Chapter 7
EXACTLY ONE WEEK LATER
“You don’t have to do this, Madeline,” Charlotte murmured, twisting the very last tiny glass flower into Madeline’s hair.
“If you don’t want to marry him, you don’t have to.
Just because you’ve stayed in his house for the past week doesn’t mean you’re bound to the man.
And your father will side with you, whatever you decide. ”
Madeline clenched her jaw, staring at her reflection.
“I thought you liked him, Charlotte. Isn’t he Isaac’s friend?”
“I do like Tristan. But that doesn’t mean I want to see my closest friend marry him.”
She swallowed. “Do you think that I shouldn’t marry him?”
“I think that you should be sure of what you want,” Charlotte responded evenly, never missing a beat.
Madeline was quiet for a moment.
Had a full seven days really gone by so quickly? Was it possible? She hadn’t seen Tristan at all, not since their little disagreement in the gardens. She had thought of that conversation over and over again, turning over every word in her mind.
Sometimes, when she thought of his slow, languid grin, a heat would spread through her middle. It was a strange sensation; not an unpleasant one, but a sensation which Madeline was quite sure she ought not to be feeling. What did it mean? What did any of it mean?
“He’s avoiding me, I think,” Madeline said at last. Charlotte’s eyes met hers in the mirror.
“Oh?” she asked carefully, clearly hoping to hear more.
“Or perhaps he’s just busy,” Madeline continued, half to herself. “I don’t know what sort of man he is, after all. We agreed upon a sort of friendship marriage, if such a thing exists. A marriage of convenience.”
“They certainly do exist,” Charlotte responded firmly, taking a step back to admire Madeline’s hair.
A fleet of hairdressers had been hired to get Madeline ready for her wedding, but none of them had produced a hairstyle that suited her taste.
None of them could fathom the fact that Madeline preferred a simpler style, even on her wedding day.
“Isaac and I planned to have a marriage of convenience,” Charlotte added, almost off-handedly.
Madeline flinched. “Well, this marriage is different from yours.”
Charlotte chuckled. “Are you so sure?”
“Yes, of course I am sure,” Madeline responded, faintly offended. “It’s an entirely different situation.”
This latest news needed a bit of thinking over.
Madeline was not pleased at Charlotte drawing parallels between her wedding and Madeline’s.
Madeline’s marriage would not end in a love-match, and expecting otherwise seemed thoroughly foolish.
To be sure, the circumstances of their wedding were a little unusual, but it was clear to anybody with eyes that they adored each other.
When their eyes met, the air between them seemed to crackle with heat.
“I’m only afraid that…” Charlotte began, only to close her mouth with a snap when footsteps echoed outside.
“Only me, girls!” chirped Dorothea, letting herself in. She paused, taking in Madeline’s gown, and gave an exclamation of delight, clapping her hands together. “Oh, my darling! You look beautiful, Madeline. Your papa is going to burst into tears when he sees you.”
Madeline gave a weak smile. “I hope not.”
Her gown was a very pale green, simply cut, made of silk overlaid with lace. It was a trifle showier than she would have preferred, but now that the dress was on, Madeline felt it did suit her. She smoothed the bodice with shaking hands.
It’s really happening, she thought faintly. I’m marrying the duke.
She hadn’t really believed that it would happen, even when he assured her that they were getting married, even when the notice appeared in the Gazette, even when she was fitted for a wedding dress, even when the special license was given.
And now, today was the day.
“How are you feeling?” Dorothea murmured, breaking into Madeline’s thoughts. She came to stand behind her, twisting her hands nervously together as she always did. “You look beautiful, my dear, but I’m sure you know that already.”
“I feel strange,” Madeline confessed. “And nervous. Were you nervous on your wedding day?”
Dorothea sighed. “It was a different situation. My marriage was arranged by my parents. I did not object, of course. It wasn’t the done thing to object in those days. I simply didn’t think much about it. Isn’t that odd?”
“I suppose so.”
“Now, I shall leave you to finish getting ready, but I have a gift for you.” Dorothea took out a neat little velvet box, offering it with a smile.
Madeline accepted the box, smiling back.
In the week she’d spent at the house, Dorothea had been exceptionally kind and friendly.
She wasn’t at all like the overbearing, unpleasant mother-in-law that Madeline had expected.
Stranger still, Tristan seemed to adore her.
If Dorothea ventured a mild hope for something—fish for dinner, for example—Tristan would take care to ensure that she got what she wanted.
It was almost sweet.
She opened the box, revealing a beautiful pair of emerald earrings. Madeline gave a gasp of pleasure. “Oh, they’re lovely!”
“At first I thought they could be your something borrowed,” Dorothea laughed, “but then I thought it would be best to simply give them to you as a present, from me to you. Do you like them?”
“I adore them. They’ll go perfectly with my gown, I…” Madeline paused, frowning. “They do look costly. Oh, Dorothea, these aren’t a present from your husband, are they? I couldn’t possibly take them from you in that case.”
Dorothea gave a wry chuckle. “Good lord, no. They were a gift from my mother, once upon a time. Not a wedding gift, and certainly not from the late duke, my husband. I should not let anything from him taint your wedding.”
Her words suddenly grew harsh, making Madeline flinch. She glanced across the room to where Charlotte stood, looking equally baffled. The awkward moment lasted only a short while. Dorothea cleared her throat, smiling nervously.
“Forgive me. I’m so glad you want to wear them, though! Now, I shall leave you, girls, to it and check on Adam. He slept poorly last night, but don’t fret, I shan’t let him cry through your vows!”
Flashing a nervous smile around at them, Dorothea scuttled out of the room, leaving Charlotte and Madeline alone.
“Well,” Madeline said at last. “I think it’s fair to say that Dorothea didn’t care much for her husband.”
“Clearly not,” Charlotte muttered. “Oh, Madeline, please tell me you aren’t being forced into this. We can always find a way.”
Madeline glanced back at her reflection, chewing her lip. It could almost be a stranger shown there in the mirror.
“Do you really think we won’t suit?” she whispered.
Charlotte took a moment before she responded.
“I think that you two are very different,” she said at last.
“And perhaps that is why I can’t trust him with Betty’s baby,” Madeline remarked firmly. “I’m sure he has good intentions. I don’t mean to accuse him of planning neglect, but I promised Betty that I would raise her baby, and I won’t go back on my promise. I won’t.”
There was silence after that. Madeline felt a funny sort of ache, lodged right up under her ribs. She felt it whenever she thought of Betty.
Betty died young, but at least she managed to fit so much happiness into her life, Madeline thought, smiling grimly at her reflection. She loved Anthony. She loved Adam. She loved her life.
What will I love?
This was not a healthy way to think. She let out a ragged sigh and set about smoothing down her bodice again. The lace felt cool and soft under her fingers.
“I can see that you’ve made up your mind,” Charlotte said at last. She sounded somewhat resigned.
Madeline smiled wryly at her friend through the mirror. “I have.”
“Well, I don’t believe that Tristan will make you really miserable, but if he hurts you or does anything terrible, you must let me know. Do you promise?”
Madeline swallowed. “I promise. Everything will be fine, you know. We struck a bargain not to disturb each other’s peace. Besides, he’d never do anything to hurt me. He needs me.”
Charlotte bit her lip hard, her brow scrunched into a frown. She leaned forward, tweaking at Madeline’s hair and pulling a thin part loose from her temple. The hair had a slight curl, and Charlotte wound it around her fingertip to enhance it.
Silently, she moved to Madeline’s other side and repeated the process. It was a worthwhile effect, much to Madeline’s surprise, the thin tendrils of hair framing her face. It suited her more than having her hair pulled straight back, in fact.
However, she had the feeling that Charlotte was trying to gather her thoughts, preparing to say something.
“Madeline,” Charlotte said at last, slowly, “men like Tristan don’t need anybody.”
Madeline was silent for a moment. “And I do? Is that what you mean?”
“No, it isn’t. I just worry about you, that’s all. Oh, you aren’t the reserved little wallflower that Society thinks you are, but you don’t know much of the world outside of your books, you must admit. I don’t mean to be hurtful or unkind, Madeline, but you don’t.”
Madeline tilted up her chin at her own reflection.
“If I wanted to be a different person,” she remarked slowly, not sure whether she was talking to herself or to her friend, “do you think I could be?”
Charlotte took a moment before responding.
“I don’t know,” she said at last. “It’s a little too philosophical for me.”
Madeline rolled her shoulders. It was an oddly graceless movement. Ladies weren’t meant to roll their shoulders, or stretch, or walk with too long strides. There were a lot of things that ladies weren’t supposed to do.
Did the same rules apply to duchesses?
I am about to find out, Madeline thought, and felt a flush of something giddy inside her. Was it excitement? She conjured an image of Tristan, tall and broad, perpetually amused. Nothing she did seemed to surprise him.
Except when I told him I wouldn’t share his bed, she thought, with a flutter of something deep in her stomach. Not that it matters. I won’t share it, and he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care in the slightest.
This thought made her feel oddly uncomfortable. Unsettled, somehow. Not wanting to examine the feeling any further, she breathed deeply and turned toward Charlotte. She met her friend’s eye and smiled.
“I know myself, Charlotte. I appreciate your concern, and I love you for it. But I know what I am doing.”
Charlotte eyed her for a moment, then gave a tight nod. “I believe you, Maddy. I do.”
Madeline smiled back. “Then we should leave. I have a wedding to get to, after all. Dukes don’t like being kept waiting.”