Chapter 3
“Ithink that you are being a little dramatic,” Gerard said, gesturing with a half-filled glass of brandy. “We are not in a Shakespearean drama, Reeds.”
“Overreacting?” Elias, Duke of Reeds, asked incredulously. “Are you certain that is your first glass of brandy? This is a rather serious matter!”
Bridget, dressed in a clean gown, lingered uncomfortably at the doorway of the parlor. By the time they had reached Gerard’s townhouse, she had nearly managed to collect herself.
Then, Gerard’s butler had informed them that Elias, Bridget’s elder brother, had arrived a week earlier than anticipated. Worse, he had decided to wait for his siblings to return from their promenade. Doubtlessly, he had anticipated a joyous meeting with Bridget and Dorothy.
Bridget had gone to her bedchamber to dress in something that was not filled with lake water, while Gerard had promised to gently inform Elias of what had happened.
Evidently, either Gerard did not know the meaning of the word gently or the situation was just as bad as Bridget had thought it was. Bridget cleared her throat, and three pairs of eyes snapped to her.
Elias and Dorothy sat on the settee together, while Gerard occupied the only other chair in the room. With a sigh, Bridget settled herself beside Dorothy, leaving her in the middle. She was like a wall, protecting Bridget from her brother’s frustration.
“This is terrible,” Elias said, springing to his feet.
So much for Bridget’s plan to hide behind Dorothy.
“I rather think you could do with some brandy,” Gerard said dryly. “It is bad. I do not deny that. However, it is not—”
“It is more than bad!” Elias snapped. “Already, Bridget was in a precarious position. Now, her position will be unsalvageable!”
Bridget bit the inside of her cheek, trying to keep herself from crying again. Unsalvageable. Her optimistic brother believed that she was unsalvageable.
“Reeds, you have a title and wealth,” Gerard said. “Both Catherine and Dorothy have married well. Someone will be willing to marry Bridget, even if she has seen a couple of scandals.”
“We do not know that,” Elias said. “Would you marry a woman who had endured two scandals?”
Bridget winced. An urge to flee rose within her, but she forced herself to remain seated. Dorothy squeezed her hand. “There is no need to be so harsh,” she said soothingly.
Elias sighed, his shoulders slumping. “It is a rare man who is willing to look past a woman’s ruin.”
Bridget’s hopes were dashed.
Maybe she truly was unsalvageable.
For the first time ever, she wondered if all hope was utterly lost. Maybe she would never find her love-match. Maybe she was too ruined. Unsalvageable. The word kept echoing inside her head, like church bells heralding a death.
“There is no going back,” Bridget said.
“That does not mean we cannot move forward,” Dorothy said softly.
She gave Bridget a sympathetic smile. Dorothy was always nurturing, even when Bridget was an embarrassment to her.
“What choice do we have?” Elias asked.
Elias was still a young man, his blue eyes usually alight with mischief and good humor, but at the moment, Bridget’s poor brother looked as though he had aged a decade in the span of just a few minutes.
Even his red-blond hair was in a state of disarray, as though he had run his hand through it in frustration several times. And it was all her fault.
“Maybe I have to say farewell to everything,” Bridget said.
Her brother cast her a despairing look. “To everything? Certainly not. It is true that I cannot find a solution to our current dilemma, but that does not mean there is not one. I just—I just need time to think. Gerard is right. There will be something.”
Bridget suspected that her brother did not believe it and that it was seeing her despair that made him claim he did.
“No,” Bridget insisted, clasping her hands together so tightly that they hurt. “I should leave London.”
“Return to the countryside?” Dorothy asked. “We tried that.”
“To no avail,” Elias said.
“No,” Bridget said. “I mean, I should leave London for good. I will never return. I can take a position as a governess.”
Gerard smiled softly and stood. “Apologies, everyone,” he said. “But I have another obligation to attend to.”
Bridget could not have said if he truly did have another obligation or if he had decided that this conversation need not involve him. After planting a quick kiss on Dorothy’s cheek, Gerard left, taking the entire decanter with him.
“Excuse me?” Elias asked. “Bridget, I know that I must have misheard you.”
“You did not,” Dorothy said tiredly.
“It is a good idea,” Bridget said. “Since no one will marry me—much less love me—I can become a governess. At least, I will be able to make good use of my lessons. It would not be the life I wanted, but I could be respectable.”
And she dared to have a smoldering spark of hope.
Being a governess would not be ideal, but there was still something a little romantic about it.
Perhaps some wealthy and respectable gentleman would see how gracious and intelligent she was, how lovely and well-mannered, and he would be filled with the gentlemanly urge to rescue her.
He would understand the injustice of her situation and restore Bridget to her proper place in the world.
Elias rubbed his forehead and sighed, the sound so mournful that Bridget almost believed he meant to destroy all her hopes.
“Bridget, having a profession is a noble pursuit. It is. And I admire workers, especially women, but you are not trained to live a life outside of Society, outside of this family.”
Bridget’s heart sank. “You do not believe I could do it.”
“You have not been prepared to do it,” Elias said gently. “And that is no fault of yours. Most young ladies would be unprepared to become governesses.”
“Then, what am I to do?” Bridget asked. “You have left me with no other solution than to become a spinster!”
“Being a spinster would not be so terrible—” Dorothy began.
“Yes, it would be!” Bridget exclaimed, her head snapping towards her sister. “And you know that! You swore that you would become one, but the instant that you found your love-match, you abandoned those ideas. Nothing can compete with love!”
“She did,” Elias conceded. “But that does not mean there is anything disreputable about being a spinster. You have a family that is willing to support you, Bridget. But if you are so set against being a spinster, we may yet find someone willing to wed you. I cannot promise what manner of man that may be.”
“As long as he loves me, it does not matter what manner of man he is.”
“Given the circumstances, it might be best for you to reconsider your feelings on a marriage of convenience,” Elias said carefully.
Bridget’s jaw dropped, injustice and indignation burning inside her. “What?” she whispered, scarcely daring to believe the cruel words.
“We may be forced to marry you to whomever will have you,” Elias said. “And if a man is inclined to marry you after two scandals, I fear that he will not be thinking of love. He will be acting out of desperation.”
“Or else, he will truly love me!” Bridget exclaimed, bursting with passion. “That possibility remains!”
Elias raked his hand through his hair. “It is a small possibility. I want nothing more than for you to find a love-match, but we must face the possibility that you will not. Love-matches are rare even in the best of circumstances. I dare say our family is remarkably fortunate to have found two.”
“It will be three,” Bridget declared.
“I hope it is,” Elias said.
Bridget’s breath hitched, and her eyes burned. Tears threatened to fall again, and if the situation had not been so wretched, she might have laughed. How could she have any tears left after crying so much throughout the day?
“Love has always been all that I have wanted out of life,” Bridget said.
“It is the one thing that I—that I thought of when I was in the countryside after Lord Fourton betrayed me. I could live with the error I had made if I could have faith that I would find love someday. But what do I live for now? I would rather die than marry someone for whom I bear no affection!”
Beside Bridget, Dorothy inhaled sharply.
“It is not so terrible,” Elias said gently. “Many women marry without love, and it ends well for them. Think about Cat! She is quite happily married, and she did not initially marry Sarsen out of love.”
“She has been fortunate!” Bridget argued.
A throat cleared, and Bridget’s head snapped to the parlor’s entryway. Nathanial Halls, Gerard’s butler, bowed deeply. “You have a guest, Your Grace. The Duke of Wheelton wishes to speak to Lady Bridget.”
“Wheelton?” Elias asked.
Bridget grimaced. She doubted that the Duke of Wheelton would say anything that she wanted to hear. In all likelihood, the man had changed his mind and decided that he did wish to be compensated for his ruined clothing. Perhaps she ought to suggest that His Grace find a more adept laundress.
“I suppose,” Elias said. “Maybe he has found some solution that we have not.”
“We will see him, Halls,” Dorothy said. “But first, do find my husband. Ask him to rejoin us.”
Elias frowned. “Is that really necessary?”
Dorothy shrugged. “I know not what to think. I have only heard rumors about the Duke of Wheelton, and…”
“And he is a reasonable man,” Elias interjected.
“Is he?” Bridget interrupted. She huffed indignantly as she smoothed the creases in her gown. “He struck me as rather unreasonable.”
Elias arched an eyebrow curiously in her direction, prompting her to continue.
Bridget gestured to her own finely made muslin frock. “The man was obsessed with his clothing and appearance. I was drowning, Elias, and yet, he had the audacity to…”
The sound of Halls clearing his throat pulled Bridget out of her tirade.
She turned slowly and saw that behind the butler stood not only Gerard but the Duke of Wheelton. Bridget rose slowly to her feet because it was proper, but a petty part of her considered remaining seated. Why should she make an effort to impress when this man would not?
“Good evening,” the Duke of Wheelton said briskly.
Like Bridget, the man had changed into new, dry clothes, but his hair was still clearly damp from his plunge into the lake. Bridget’s heartbeat quickened, and she tried not to notice once more how attractive he was.
She failed. The man was infuriatingly beautiful.
“Good evening,” Elias said. “I am glad that you came to call. Dorothy has told me about what you did for Bridget today, and I wanted to personally express how grateful I am for your rescue. I value my sisters more than even my own life, and I would be…beyond distraught if anything happened to them.”
Bridget’s chest tightened. It was suddenly impossible to meet her brother’s eyes, even though she sensed him looking at her.
“I understand,” His Grace said.
He sounded utterly unmoved. It was fortunate for the Duke that he was handsome, for he seemed entirely lacking in all other charms.
“It is that matter which has prompted my visit, as you may have guessed,” the Duke of Wheelton continued. “Having given the matter considerable thought, it is apparent that I must marry your sister. So, I am here to offer my hand in marriage.”
Bridget knew the reality of her situation, but that was not reason enough to abandon her quest for true love—especially not for this man, who wanted to marry her simply because he was unable to tolerate a little gossip!
No, the man she married would love her. He would be like a hero in the romances of old, chivalric and hopelessly devoted to her.
“Is that truly necessary?” Elias asked.
“I believe it is,” His Grace said. “Perhaps you have not heard the whispers of the ton, but many are insisting that I have disgraced your sister by rescuing her. It is easy to see why given what occurred with her skirts.”
“The gossip will surely die down,” Dorothy offered.
“Not soon,” the duke said. “So I am here to make things right.”
Bridget’s face burned with fury. He wished to offer his hand, did he? Over her dead body!