Chapter Four #5
‘No, we will marry,’ Edward said, resolute.
Bea’s heart rate picked up, her chest expanding with gratitude. She liked that Edward knew his own mind; that he was standing up to his father—especially where she was concerned.
‘What will you tell the ton about her standing?’ the older man said.
‘As little as possible. I have already ensured Beatrice has started lessons in deportment, but I shall not lie. You know how I feel about secrets.’
The Duke’s face clouded over and he shook his head. ‘She will never pass for a future duchess.’
He was reiterating Bea’s own fears, her concern that she wouldn’t be good enough for Edward, like her mother hadn’t been good enough for her father, and yet a determination solidified in her stomach. She wanted to prove this hateful man wrong.
‘I cannot believe you would do this. That you would subject the family to another scandal. It could bring back memories of the first, of Harrington wives letting the family down. Do you really want to bring up old wounds right now, at a time like this, so soon after losing your brother, and with the state of my health as it is?’
Bea wondered what the man could mean. What had happened before, to make him and Edward so reluctant to incite gossip? She looked up at Edward, but his face was grave; he gave nothing away.
‘Why in heaven’s name could it not have been you instead of William…?’
Edward reached out and gripped the table with his hand, and Bea inhaled sharply.
It was a despicable thing to say. So despicable, she wondered if she had misheard.
Surely the man didn’t mean it? It was one thing him being cruel to her, but to his own son?
Considering they thought she needed lessons in how to behave, the Duke’s manners were severely lacking.
She wondered how many times a similar thing had been said in the past, and what damage that had caused to Edward if he’d always been made to feel second best.
All her protective instincts were triggered, and she shot out of her seat to stand by Edward’s side, and he stared down into her eyes.
‘She will ruin you, Edward. Do not say I did not warn you,’ the man spat.
Edward shook his head. ‘Thank you for the advice, Father,’ he said slowly. ‘But someone once told me you have to live by your own values, no one else’s, and I intend to.’ His words were directed at the Duke, but his gaze was still focused on her.
Bea’s pulse pounded harder. She couldn’t believe he remembered the words she had told him that night.
The older man looked between them, shaking his head. ‘Well do not expect me to be at the wedding,’ he said, before removing himself from the room.
She watched a muscle flicker in Edward’s jaw. ‘Would you mind giving Miss Puddifoot and me a moment?’ he said to Mrs Potter, passing Thomas over to her, before she and Miss Linton made a hasty retreat.
Finally, they were alone, and Edward loosened the top button of his shirt as if the tight collar was choking him.
‘I apologise for my father—he is not in good health,’ he said.
His voice sounded strained, thick with emotion.
‘It is dropsy. It causes swelling. Fluid on the lungs. The doctor has said it will be a slow, painful decline.’
She felt his grief pass over her heart like a shadow. ‘I’m sorry, Edward. I know of it, for my mother died of something similar.’ Bea had tried everything to keep her alive—from bloodletting to herbal tonics, but nothing had worked.
‘You were there with her, till the end?’
She nodded. ‘It must be a great worry to you,’ she said. She could tell the burden of his responsibilities weighed heavily on him.
‘Indeed. Family is an obligation one cannot extract oneself from.’ Now he could add her and Thomas to his duties too.
His apology hadn’t excused what the man had said, but she knew Edward was trying to make amends for all that had been spoken.
Yet deep down, it wasn’t his father’s words that had wounded her so badly, but his own.
He had called their night together a mistake—twice now, making her more certain than ever this marriage would end in disaster.
‘Edward, you really don’t have to do this,’ she said. ‘I do not want you to regret it. If you are in love with another…’ She bit her lip, drawing it into her mouth.
His frown deepened, and he stepped towards her.
He reached out and his hand cupped her jaw, shocking her, his warm touch sending ripples of heat through her body.
He smoothed his thumb over her bottom lip, sending her pulse haywire.
She brought her hand up to stop him, but it just lingered there, her fingers curling over his arm.
She wondered if perhaps she needed that straitjacket after all, for her actions could be deemed a danger to herself.
‘Forget about Miss Deverell. It is unimportant. She was my father’s choice, not mine.’
The breath left her.
‘Forget about my father and all that he said. I have seen the flaws in his judgement before and just like then, I am set on choosing my own path.’