Chapter 4
M organ had always intended to attend the ball.
What was important to him, however, was that the Boltons did not know his intentions.
He did not want them to be present the first time he saw the lady that he had promised to marry.
Lady Dorothy did not deserve such a fate as being his wife, and so he wanted to ensure his beliefs were correct.
He wished to be absolutely certain that he was saving her from her family, and one encounter with her was all he had needed to reach that point.
She did not enjoy life. She was but one-and-twenty, yet there was hardly any light in her eyes. She was not pleased to be at a ball and enjoying herself, she was resigned to it. It had saddened him.
The morning of his visit, he was breaking his fast with Catherine.
He wondered, with how intelligent she was, just how she could possibly be his niece.
His brother had certainly lacked that trait.
Then again, with how particular she was and how insistent she was about it, he had to admit that was a familial resemblance in that way.
She scarcely ate, for example, unless the food contained chocolate in some way, which was an expensive diet but one he was more than willing to provide.
"Are you going to see her today?" she asked, toying with the fruit on her plate.
"My bride? Yes, I will be. Is that all right?"
"Of course. I have been waiting for you to. I need you to answer all of my questions about her."
"Do you have any that I might be able to ask for you?"
Catherine shuffled anxiously before looking at him.
"Does she want to have me sent away?"
Morgan's breath caught in his throat. His niece was a concern to him when it came to his marriage, but under no circumstances would he ever have sent her away.
He had been worried about how Lady Dorothy would react to him caring for his niece, but their encounter the night before had proven to him that she was too gentle to say anything against having Catherine in the home.
"She does not," he promised.
"How could you know? You have never met her."
"No, but she is to be my wife, and your aunt. Do you truly think I would marry a lady that did not want you?"
The little girl smiled at that, satisfied. She was so pleased, in fact, that she began eating her fruit.
"Will you be all right with Mrs. Herrington for the afternoon?"
"Of course. I spend most of my time with her, especially when you are busy."
Morgan hated that his dukedom kept him so occupied that it led to him neglecting Catherine, but he was grateful that his housekeeper had built a bond with her so that she had someone. It was an odd friendship, but that was how he liked to call it.
"When I am married, you will have another lady to spend time with too."
"If she likes me."
"Which she will."
But Catherine did not seem too certain.
Standing in the Bolton household, Morgan wondered if the family liked anything at all.
There was a pianoforte in the corner of the room, but it was clearly for decoration as the chair was visibly unused.
Other than that, there was nothing of note in the room save for paintings and the family itself.
Morgan had not been the greatest fan of the Earl, as he could see through his act as a doting father that was simply doing what was best for his daughter, but he had hoped the Countess would be different.
She was decidedly not, and he could see that from the moment he arrived.
"Was your journey pleasant?" she asked. "We are hoping that you appreciated the gardens."
"Yes, they are lovely. Will your daughter be with us soon?"
"She will. I do not know what has gotten into her, for she is always on time. Perhaps it is because she is so excited to meet you?"
Or because she wishes to avoid you, he thought.
Objectively, there was nothing wrong with the Boltons.
They were respectable, and their lineage was strong, and perhaps if Morgan was not so good at knowing people's true intentions he might have been able to spend time with them without feeling ill at ease.
Unfortunately, he could see at once that they were being dishonest about who they were and he loathed that.
At least their daughter seemed to have missed that trait.
When she entered, he watched her face change as she began to recognize who he was.
It was hard not to chuckle at her as the little mouse he had met the night before stared up at him in disbelief.
It was as though she could not believe that a man she had behaved so unbecomingly with was still willing to marry her.
If anything, it would have been what he had to do in order to save her reputation.
"Good afternoon, Your Grace," she said softly. "It is a shame that we did not meet one another last night."
"Indeed. I apologize for that. There was something at home that simply had to be taken care of. I explained everything to your father."
The Earl grunted, and though Morgan did not seem to know what that meant, his wife and daughter did as the both fell silent.
He assumed, in that case, that they had not been told the contents of the letter.
It was for the best, as part of the lie Morgan had told pertained to Catherine.
The Earl knew that he had his niece, and that she was a sickly child, and so even though Morgan felt unfair pretending something was worse than usual, it was the easiest way to make them think they would not see him.
"You are a duke," Lady Bolton smiled. "We understand that things happen."
He was more inclined to believe that the Countess had been furious about his absence, and the forced smile on her face did not help that.
"I was wondering, Lady Dorothy, if you might like to promenade with me tomorrow."
"Yes," her mother said in an instant. "She would love to, isn't that right, Dear?"
But his bride's eyes were on the ground. Their interaction was too stilted, too forced, and he knew it was because her every word would undoubtedly be scrutinized when he was gone. It was better for her to say nothing at all, and even then there would inevitably be fault found in that.
But that would be changing when they were married, and so it was time for her to begin making adjustments.
"With all due respect, Lady Bolton, I was asking your daughter. I would like to know what she thinks."
Based on her reaction, the way her brows raised and her mouth was stuck halfway open, Morgan wondered if this was the first time anyone had said something like that to her. He turned back to Lady Dorothy, who was looking up at him with something resembling admiration.
But then her gaze slid away from his, and she looked out of the window instead. It was as though she was there, but she was also not. She was not acting as though she was truly present, as if things were happening to her rather than including her.
"Lady Dorothy," he said carefully, "do you want this match?"
"She does–" Lady Bolton began, but she stopped herself.
He raised an eyebrow at his betrothed, and again she was unable to meet his eye.
"Of course I do," she nodded. "Why would I not?"
"Because we are strangers, and because you do not seem best pleased with any of this. I will not be forcing your hand, and so if this is not what you want then I will walk away now. The choice is yours."
But he knew that she would not refuse him.
She could not do so, not with her parents watching her.
He did not dare think what might happen if she rejected a duke's proposal that had been arranged for her.
Even the most loving parents would have been against it, and Morgan was not at all convinced that she was in a loving family to begin with.
It was precisely why he needed to have time with her alone.
"Would you like to promenade with me?"
"Yes, Your Grace."
"Very well. I will be here to collect you in the morning."
"Why not go now?" the Earl asked. "It is a fine day, and the sooner we have all of this arranged the better."
"I understand that, but I am in no rush. I would like to spend what little time we have before the wedding coming to know my fiancée, but I will not pretend that if she does not wish to marry me I will force her hand. I would much sooner walk away before too many know that we are already engaged."
"But you are here to sign the marriage contract!"
The fear in Lady Dorothy's eyes told Morgan that she had not been made aware of that.
"That can wait until tomorrow, can it not?
What is one more day? Besides, I will not change my mind about this.
Your daughter will only be my wife if she chooses to be, and you will not do anything to force her.
I will learn of it, and then I will ensure that the ton is made aware of what your family does. "
As he said it, he wondered just how empty the threat he had made was. He had expected it to mean nothing, but as he said it he did indeed consider ensuring society knew of their wedding tactics.
"I should like to promenade with you tomorrow, Your Grace," Lady Dorothy said politely. "It has been a while since I saw the lake."
"Then that is where we shall go tomorrow afternoon. You can bring your lady's maid with you as your chaperone."
Fortunately, there were no further protests.
He made his promise to see her the following day, and then took his leave.
He hoped that the rest of her day would not be too dreadful, but he was not entirely convinced.
The Earl and Countess were not the worst people that he had ever met, especially given the characters his brother had liked to bring home, but something about them made him dislike them and he hoped that would change.
He wanted so badly to have misjudged them, as his wife would need to have someone in her life that she could talk to, as he could not be that person.
He hoped that she would understand that.
The moment the door closed, Dorothy knew that she would be in for it.