Chapter 4 #2
Adrian’s words were cut short when Lord Warwick started to laugh.
“Your face!” the small man chuckled and waved Adrian down. “Oh, if only you could see it. I bet you are not used to being spoken to like that!” He laughed further. “Please, please, take a seat. I promise I will not bite.”
Adrian balked, again unsure what to make of what was happening. He was not used to such humor, or to being spoken to that way. Not in fear. And not as if worried that he might lash out. Rather, being treated as a human…
“A joke?” Adrian said sharply, wanting to sound angry. “Is this some joke to you?”
“Not at all,” Lord Warwick said seriously. “It is just my way. I have a habit of doing such, even when the time does not call for it. Please, forgive my inappropriateness.” He smiled pleasantly.
Adrian scowled because he thought he should, and then he took a seat.
“People will talk,” Lord Warwick said with a sigh, still smiling. “Whether a wrong has been committed or not, know that they will. All we can do is what we feel is right and hope that is enough.”
“I…” Adrian hesitated. “I am doing everything that I can to make sure that they do not.”
“For which I thank you,” Lord Warwick said. “This entire situation…” A shake of the head. “It is not ideal to say the least. But I wanted to thank you personally, Your Grace.”
“You do?” Adrian blinked.
“For looking out for my daughter,” he said. “Most would not do so, as most would do anything that they could to try and distance themselves. That you have seen fit to shelter her…” He smiled warmly. “You are an honorable man, and I am looking forward to calling you my son-in-law.”
Adrian stared blankly at Lord Warwick.
It is not an act at all. He really is that kind and loving…
Again, Adrian could not escape how out of place he felt. He was not used to such kindness. His world was harsh and unforgiving, and he had expected the same from Lord Warwick.
“I want you to know that I will not be expecting a dowry,” Adrian said. “I have been made aware of your financial issues, so know that you need not worry about such things.”
Lord Warwick looked embarrassed. “Oh… really… There is no need for that.”
“I insist.”
Lord Warwick beamed. “You know, a small part of me almost wishes the child was yours. I have no doubt that if she were, she would grow up to be one of the luckiest young girls of the ton.”
It was an off-hand comment. No doubt one designed to be taken as a compliment and accepted as such. But it sat strangely with Adrian… uncomfortably… and he squirmed and grimaced as if it were an insult.
Adrian did not do happy. He did not do sentimental. And he certainly did not do warm comments about a congenial family life, as if he had any idea what such a thing might look like. And being reminded of that fact upset him, as much as it angered him.
“The girl is not mine,” he said sharply. “Nor will she ever be.”
“Oh…” Lord Warwick blinked. “Yes, I know. I was just saying –”
“I will find her true father,” he cut the man off. “And he can raise her. Happy or not, she will not be my problem.”
Lord Warwick’s face turned white in surprise and an awkwardness swept across the room, smothering the warmth from earlier and strangling any chance of comfort.
“We should…” Lord Warwick cleared his throat. “We should check on Ophelia, I think. Yes, no doubt she is wondering about us…” He could not have jumped from his chair and crossed the room more quickly.
Adrian sighed and shook his head to himself. That was not very well done, and where he had started to make a decent first impression, he had all but ensured that Lord Warwick thought of him the same as the rest of the ton did.
But what else was new? Such is my way… and all the fake cheer and forced laughter isn’t going to change that.
It was a most awkward morning to be sure.
Ophelia had no idea what her father had said to the Duke but whatever it was, when the two men came outside, the Duke’s mood had taken a turn for the worst.
Or worse than usual, anyhow.
He was not known to be a conversationalist. He was certainly not known to be one who smiled and laughed when others were doing so. But even for him, the mood that he brought from the meeting with Ophelia’s father was like a storm sweeping across a sunny day and causing terror.
“… I would like to see the little angel,” her father chuckled as he sipped his tea. “I know, I know, she is not mine. But I have always had an affinity for children.”
“Since when?” Ophelia laughed.
“Always!”
She scoffed. “That is not how I remember it. Although maybe you would make a good grandfather? No responsibility, only required for affection.”
“Obviously, that is what I mean,” her father chuckled. “What of you, Your Grace?” He turned to the Duke. “Do you have a way with children?”
“No,” the Duke said.
Her father laughed awkwardly. “Maybe you do, and you just don’t know it.”
“I doubt it,” the Duke said.
“But how can you –”
“Father,” Ophelia cut him off. “Behave yourself.”
“What did I say?!”
The Duke sat across the table and while the day was a sunny one, somehow, he had managed to find the only patch of shade. Although it was more like a shadow that refused to leave him, as if to signal for all those who could not see it themselves how bad his mood was.
He scowled as he watched Ophelia and her father chat. He sat stiffly and awkwardly. The tea on the table in front of him remained untouched, and Ophelia had no doubt that he was just waiting for the moment he could demand that they go home without it being taken as a rudeness.
He is clearly uncomfortable too, as if he does not understand what he is seeing.
The longer that the morning stretched on, the more certain Ophelia became that this was the true cause of the Duke’s mood. Whenever they laughed, he winced. Whenever she made a joke, the Duke frowned. His blue eyes flicked between them constantly, and the confusion behind them was telling.
Until that moment, Ophelia had been able to resign herself to her marriage.
It was not something that she wanted but something that she had no choice in.
Not that she could refuse, but if she did, it would surely ruin her name further than it had already been ruined, and from that there would be no coming back.
It is the only way, and I must be grateful that the Duke offered it.
Now, however, she started to look to the future, just as she started to wonder what this marriage might look like.
There would be no warmth in the marriage.
There would be no love. And if she did not miss her guess, it was sure to be a lonely thing indeed.
It might have been nice to have pretended that she and the Duke could learn to live together in peace and harmony, but they were just so different…
complete opposites in every way… and she doubted that would change.
Her only hope was that there might be more to the Duke than she knew.
After all, it was not as if she knew him.
It was not as if she had really spoken to him.
Was there a chance that there was another side to the man?
And that if she were to find it, then he might…
might what? That he might laugh and joke and dare to show happiness as most would do? That, she knew, was highly unlikely.
And as the morning wore on, as the Duke continued to scowl, and as Ophelia continued to watch him, she came to admit that this was the man to whom she was married, and nothing would change him.