Chapter 16
“Y ou cannot marry her, Your Grace.”
Leander stared at Mr. Miller, Mercy’s father, aghast.
When Leander had allowed the Millers entrance into Heron House, he had imagined that the parents had come for some sort of reconciliation after they had heard the news of the marriage. No doubt, it was being talked about all over the country. After all, a duke’s marriage was something for public consummation. It would be gossiped about, newssheets would be printed, special pamphlets would be made, and the fact that he was going to marry an American was even more interesting news.
My God, how mistaken he had been.
When they had put out the announcement, he had expected people to be… Well, if not upset, then flustered or discontent. But he had not expected all-out rebellion from her parents.
“Mr. Miller,” Leander began through gritted teeth, leaning his hands slightly on the desk in his study. He attempted to draw strength from the Stoics, lest he cross the room and grab the man by the throat. “I am going to marry your daughter. She is a remarkable young lady, and I am lucky to have her.”
“She’s a traitor,” Miller ground out, “to this country. How can you marry a traitor?”
Miller’s wife stood but a step behind him. Leander half expected her to wring her hands and try to pull her husband back.
Instead, the woman stepped forward and said, “He is absolutely correct, Your Grace. She is a difficult young lady. She always was as a child. She’s very educated, which I am grateful for, but she has misused that education to go against her king. You cannot marry her, nor can you allow our son, Tobias, to marry your sister. They cannot be awarded for their duplicity, for their traitorous actions against England.”
Leander swung his gaze from Mr. Miller to Mrs. Miller. They were a handsome couple of advancing years, and both looked physically strong. There was nothing amiss about them outwardly. They were dressed well and clearly from the upper-middle class of society. But they had no love for their children.
This was something that Leander could not fathom. He had been loved so entirely and so entirely accepted by his mother and father, grandmother and grandfather, and brothers and sisters his entire life, even with his secret, that he could not imagine two parents willing to cast aside their own beautiful, remarkable children.
Leander cocked his head to the side. “I beg to understand. You wish to deny the power that being associated with a duke would give the two of you?”
Mr. Miller nodded his silvery head. “To protect you, Your Grace? Absolutely.”
“To protect me?” he echoed, his body tensing with dislike.
“Indeed, Your Grace,” the man blustered. “You do not understand. Those two were directly involved in war against this country. You cannot—”
“Cannot is not a word I would use with me, Mr. Miller,” he warned softly. “Now, listen to me. I admire your son, Tobias. Actually, I sought him out and asked him to work for me because his views are so akin to mine own. And your daughter, Mercy? I admire her beyond all measure. She is the sort of young woman who will make a great duchess. And while it is remarkable to think that an American woman who was involved in the revolution is to join the aristocracy, she’s perfect for it. She is just what my family needs, just what the children of my dukedom need. Do you see? She is the future, not the past, and you two, it would seem, are very much stuck in the past.”
“We gave up everything we had in New York,” Mrs. Miller rushed, her eyes flashing with indignation. “We gave up our printing—”
“That was your choice,” the duke said without compassion. “And while I admire your loyalty to king and country, I do not admire your behavior now. Do you truly love your children so little?”
Mr. Miller’s lip curled. “How can one love a traitor, sir?”
“Because,” Leander breathed, “that traitor is your child.”
“As the good book said, ‘And if thy right hand offend thee, cut it off.’”
Leander sucked in a sharp breath. “Dear God,” he growled, “have you no kindness in your hearts?”
The Millers stared at him.
“Please go,” the duke said.
Mrs. Miller gasped, astonished. Her mob cap fluttered as she stepped forward. “But, Your Grace—”
“Did you expect me to be grateful for this warning?” Leander cut in harshly.
The two of them looked at each other.
“Ah, you did,” he realized, his stomach twisting. “You thought, somehow, in your cruel thinking, that I would appreciate you protecting me from these traitors. But the truth is my family and I brought them in because they are unique and wonderful individuals.”
Leander blew out a derisive breath. “You two? Well, you are remarkable, but only in the way you have treated your children. I do not wish to see you again. Do not ever bother Mercy again. Do you understand? I will not have her upset by you. Her happiness is my main goal in this life, and if you upset a single moment of her happiness—”
Before he could say another word, Mercy was standing in the door, her face pale with shock.
“Mama? Papa?” she whispered.
Mr. and Mrs. Miller turned to her.
“Mercy?” her mother queried, her voice rough.
“What are you doing here?” Mercy asked, her gaze swinging from her mother to her father.
“You cannot marry this man,” her mother stated.
“Why not?” Mercy asked, lifting her chin.
He could see it, though she hid it well, the pain under the armor she had put on to protect her heart from her parents.
“You know why. You betrayed this country,” her father drawled.
The man was repeating himself now, because he clearly had nothing else to say.
“I stood by my ideals,” Mercy said without apology, “my beliefs for what could make a great country, for what was right.”
“And now,” her father mocked, “you will have the benefits of being a duchess? Do you still believe in your so-called ideals?”
She nodded tightly, her mouth hardening. “Yes, because I believe that I can change things here too and help people.”
Her father all but snarled, “You will not remake this country in the image of the Republic of the United States.”
“She will,” Leander countered. “Not as a Republic, of course, but what I want for this country is very similar to what has happened across the Atlantic. Have you seen what’s happening in France?” Leander challenged. “If we do not move with the times, we shall be overblown by change.”
The Millers turned to him as one.
Mrs. Miller shook her head. “The traditions of this country—”
“Are what?” Leander demanded. “Tradition is important, but if you cling too hard to it, it’ll kill you. Change is life. Growth is life. You see it all around you in nature. We must be the same. Now, Mercy,” he called, holding out his hand, “my future duchess, will you join me?”
In that moment, Mercy’s eyes lit and she crossed to him. She slipped her fingers into his.
How he longed to take her into his arms, to assure her that she would never be rejected again. Never abandoned again.
“You two may go,” he stated simply, gazing at the woman he desired more than anything in the world. The woman who would be his wife. He smiled at her and then he turned his gaze back to the people who had given her life but not love. “She’s of age, so you can say nothing.”
“I let you go now, Mama and Papa,” Mercy said. She tightened her grip on his hand, clearly drawing strength from him. “Simply know that Tobias and I? We do not think of you leaving us as a punishment. It hurt when you abandoned us, but that was your unkindness. It was no reflection upon Tobias and myself. Go now and try to find some peace in the loyalty that you have chosen above all else.”
The Millers looked at each other, horrified, enraged even, but there was nothing left for them to say, and so they stormed out of the room.
Mercy collapsed against him, tears slipping down her cheeks.
He caught her as the sorrow swept over her, and he held her in his arms.
“I’m so sorry that happened to you just now,” he said, smoothing her hair. “I thought they came here to—”
“To reconcile?” she sobbed softly.
“Yes, if I’m honest,” he whispered against her ear. “Does that make me terribly naive?”
“I never would’ve thought such a thing possible,” she said gently, pulling back slightly. She laughed through her tears. “You naive, Leander? But you are, and that’s a good thing in this, because you have always known love. You couldn’t imagine the likes of my parents.”
He pulled her tight to him again and carefully wiped the tears from her cheeks. “And you shall know love, Mercy. I promise you that. I love you,” he confessed, unable to stop the words. “I love you so very much.”
She clung to him, and her eyes widened with astonishment. Suddenly and clearly, before she could think, she returned, “And I love you, Leander. I can’t believe it, but it’s true. I can feel it in my heart. But I’m scared. I’m scared that something shall seize it from us.”
He lifted his hand to her cheek, and he tilted her head back and locked gazes with her. “Nothing will take it from us,” he vowed. “Nothing ever. We shall be married. Everything will be just as it should be. And you shall be the envy of London.”
“They shall all hate me,” she stated plainly.
“Good,” he said.
“Good?” she echoed.
He nodded. “Let them begin with hate, for then they will transform to admiration, because you will be the greatest duchess this country has ever known.”
She laughed and blinked tears from her eyes. “Your confidence is astounding.”
“It’s not just confidence,” he said. “It’s a fact, because I know you. You are safe with us. You are safe with me.”
Leander flinched as he held her in his arms. Perdita came to mind. He needed to tell her about his secret.
And so he whispered, “Mercy, will you accept me for all that I am?”
“Of course,” she said.
His throat tightened, but he managed, “Even if I’m not perfect?”
“Who’s perfect?” she demanded, lifting her hands to his shoulders.
“Sometimes I struggle…” he began, though it pained him to admit his weakness.
“We all struggle,” she rushed.
He shook his head, his brow furrowing. “No, no, it’s more. Sometimes a wildness comes over me and a darkness—”
She lifted her hand to his lips, and placed her fingertips over them.
“Whatever it is, Leander, do not be afraid,” she assured. “I shall accept you exactly as you are. For there is no one else like you. The world needs you just as you are.”
He prayed that he had said enough, explained enough. Prayed with all his heart that she meant what she said. That she would accept him. And he prayed his confession of his struggles… Well, that it had been enough.