Chapter 8
It was done. Francesca had said her vows and now she was Matthew’s wife.
Her baby would never know the stigma of being a bastard.
There might be talk, but it wouldn’t matter.
When her child was born it would be within the bonds of matrimony and the date it had been conceived wouldn’t matter.
Let the whole world talk. She didn’t give a damn.
If only she could forget that kiss at the end of the ceremony.
Matthew did have a way of making her desire him, and he had not failed there either.
The first touch of his lips against hers had sent spikes of desire throughout her.
She should have stopped the kiss before the vicar had, but she’d been consumed by him.
Matthew was her greatest weakness, and she feared he always would be.
She turned to her friend, Violet, and said, “Thank you so much for being here. It wouldn’t have been the same without at least one of my friends to witness the ceremony…what little of it there was to see anyway.”
Violet frowned. “I think he loves you.”
Francesca shook her head. “I don’t believe Matthew knows what love is.” She sighed. “I have no doubt he feels desire. That he does understand and uses it like a weapon. He’s quite good at it.” She placed her hand on her belly. “I know that all too well.”
“But you do love him, don’t you?” Violet asked in a soft tone. “The way you look at him…”
There was no denying the truth. “Most of the time he makes it quite easy to love him. He can be sweet and attentive.” Except for the times he was a complete arse and said all the wrong things.
“But it’s not enough.” It would never be enough…
“I’ll try to be happy and content with what he can give me.
My child has the protection of his name now and that is the only reason I married him. ”
“I’m sorry,” Violet said. Her tone was full of pity and Francesca hated that. She pulled her into her arms and hugged her tight. “Do you want me to go with you to speak to your parents?”
She shook her head and pulled away from Violet. “No, I need to do this myself. I’m going to go now. Would you walk with me?”
“Yes,” she said immediately. “Of course, I will, but don’t you want to wait for your husband?”
“He’s busy with his friend.” She lifted a brow. “About that…” Francesca glanced over at Matthew and Merrifield. “What is happening with you and the marquess?”
“Absolutely nothing,” she said. “I thought he was intriguing but now I know the truth. He’s an outright boor.”
Francesca held back a laugh. She had a feeling there was more than Violet was saying, but it could wait.
Violet might say she was no longer interested in the Marquess of Merrifield; however, her constant glances in his direction told another story.
Francesca had to get her own life in order before she could become embroiled in her friend’s dilemma.
When the time came, she would help Violet though.
Something told her she would need it. The marquess was part of the scandalous gentleman.
Nothing involving them would be easy or simple.
“All right,” Francesca began. “Keep your secrets. I’m here when you need someone to listen.
Now let’s slip out while the men are preoccupied.
” She really didn’t want Matthew with her when she faced her parents.
They slipped out and started to walk toward the Weston townhouse. In a couple of days, they were to relocate to Blackthorn house now that her ball was over with. When they reached Violet’s home they stopped. “Go on inside. Iris will be waiting for you. I’ll pay a call later in the week.”
“You’ll be over for our weekly tea, right?” Violet asked.
“I wouldn’t miss it for anything.” She hugged her friend. “Now go before I start to cry. I don’t know why I’m an emotional mess.”
“You’re entitled.” Violet stepped back. “It’s your wedding day. You only get married once.” She smiled. “I do hope you’re happy.”
“I am.” She was in an odd sort of way. All anxiety she had been carrying around with her had dissipated when she said her vows. “Besides I’ll have someone else to love soon.” The baby growing inside of her would be enough. Francesca would do her best to make it so.
“That’s true enough,” Violet agreed. “Good luck.” With that last bit of encouragement her friend left her alone and went inside.
Francesca finished the trek to her grandfather’s townhouse and went inside.
No one had noticed she’d left, or at least it seemed that way.
She went to the back of the house and into the library where her father had been working until they moved to Blackthorn.
He sat at a table looking over ledgers, and her mother was at his side.
That wasn’t unusual, but something seemed off. “Hello,” she said.
They both glanced up when she spoke. Her mother smiled. “There you are. Bess didn’t know where you went off to.”
“You were looking for me?” Francesca didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing.
“Yes,” her mother said. “I saw the lovely flowers. Who is your suitor?”
Francesca swallowed hard. This was the part she hadn’t been looking forward to. How did she tell them she’d married and didn’t bother to tell them anything about her situation? They would still love her. She had never doubted that. She just hated disappointing them.
When she didn’t answer right away her mother frowned. “Is it someone you do not favor?”
“It’s not that…” It hurt so much. She hated that she worried her mother even for a brief moment. “I…it’s just that…” Francesca nibbled on her bottom lip.
Her father stood and walked over to her. “Whatever it is you can tell us. We love you.”
That made it even worse. The tears she’d been fighting started to spill and she sobbed so hard her chest hurt. Her father pulled her into his arms and held her tight. “Baby, tell me what’s wrong.” There was an edge to his voice that Francesca didn’t like. “If someone hurt you…”
She pulled back and shook her head. Francesca didn’t want him to defend her honor. That was completely unnecessary. “No,” she said through the sobs. “I don’t need you to rush in and save me. I’m capable of doing that for myself.”
“Then tell me what is going on,” her father insisted.
Her mother came over then. The color had drained from her face. “My dreams…”
Francesca had forgotten about those. Her mother had been worried about her and had known in some fashion that something was wrong with her. “I’m sorry,” she said, and hiccupped. Francesca did her best to rein in her tears. “I never wanted to disappoint you.”
“You never could,” her father said and cupped her face. “You’re our daughter. Tell us what happened.”
She drew in a deep breath. “I married the Duke of Lindsey this afternoon.” Her mother’s mouth dropped open.
“The hell you did,” her father said. “That can and will be undone.”
“You can’t,” she told him. She shook her head emphatically. “I have to stay married to him.”
“Fran…” Her mother sounded so hurt…
“Why the hell would you marry him without speaking to us?” her father demanded.
“Because she’s carrying my child.” Matthew stood at the entrance to the library. He looked angry. Francesca frowned and considered perhaps she should have waited for him. “And no one is setting aside our marriage. She’s my wife, and she’s not leaving me.”
It had taken him longer to get rid of Merrifield than he thought it would.
When he finally convinced the marquess to leave he realized Cesca had slipped out while he was distracted.
Once he realized she was gone he knew where to find her.
There was only one place she’d run off to.
She should have waited for him. He’d been so angry he had wanted to hit something and found himself wishing Merrifield hadn’t already left.
He blamed his friend for distracting him.
Now he was in the library of Francesca’s grandfather’s house facing her parents, and he’d overheard them saying they would have their marriage set aside.
There was no way he was going to allow that to happen.
Matthew didn’t work so hard to convince her to marry him only to lose her now.
She was his wife, and that was his child she carried.
Her mother turned toward her. “You’re having a baby?”
Cesca face blanched. “I was going to tell you…” She nibbled on her bottom lip. “I just hadn’t gotten to that part yet.” She glanced at Matthew. “You didn’t need to come over.”
“The hell I didn’t. You should have waited for me.” His tone was hard and unrelenting. “You don’t need to face anything alone ever again.”
“While I find it a little endearing,” Cesca’s mother began. “You do not need to protect her from us. We would never hurt her.”
He tilted his head to the side. “I did not think you would, but it is clear she is upset with something. She’s been crying.” He wanted to take away all her pain. “What did you say to her?”
“Nothing,” the Marquess of Blackthorn said. “She started crying before she told us anything. I have to wonder if it is us, she’s upset with, or is it perhaps you?” He glared at Matthew. “What did you do to my daughter?”
Francesca stepped in front of her father. “Daddy, I don’t need your protection. Matthew didn’t do anything I didn’t want him to.”