Chapter 13
“Are you ready?” Marcus asked.
Lucy was not paying attention.
Her focus was saved for outside the carriage window.
As the carriage pulled into the park and then started its way along the road which wound through its center, she eyed the crowds that gathered toward the lake where the picnic was taking place.
And, as she did, her stomach twisted with nervous anticipation.
There is nothing to feel nervous about, Lucy. All you need to do is pretend. Be kind, act normally, and try not to do or say anything that might give the game away.
Before the carriage arrived in the park, Lucy had felt perfectly at ease. She knew what was expected of her today, and she saw no reason to worry. After all, this was part of their deal, and there was no reason that she should not be able to do as was asked.
Now, with the event in question having arrived, a change in mood took her.
It all felt so real suddenly. This marriage. This life. She was officially a duchess, she had a child to raise, and she had a husband who depended on her. What if she messed up? What if she ruined everything? What if the Duke had made a terrible mistake marrying her?
Not things that she should have cared about, but she did, and that only confused her further.
“Lucy…” Marcus cleared his throat.
“Oh!” She pulled her focus back into the carriage and found her husband watching, clearly concerned. “Is something the matter?”
Was it so wrong that she was starting to like her husband?
Not in any real way, of course, but more as a person who she no longer loathed being around.
While he might not have been the most personable of men, he was still kind, still understanding, and he was surprisingly forgiving where her own misguided actions and mood fluctuations were concerned.
What was more, she found that she wanted to do right by him.
His dark eyes studied her, the concern growing behind them. But it wasn’t concern felt because he thought she might ruin everything. Rather, it looked as if he was generally worried about her well-being.
“I am fine,” she said a little too quickly. “Just… I am fine.” She offered a smile that was a little too gratuitous.
“We’re here…” He studied her for a moment longer before shifting toward the door. “Remember, all we need do is pretend that we do not loathe one another.”
“I do not loathe you,” she said, hurt that he would think that.
“I know it.” His smile was soft. “Now, let us make sure that everyone else knows it too.” The door suddenly swung open and Marcus was the first to climb out. When he did, he offered his hand for her to take.
She eyed that hand and she felt her own tingle as she considered taking it. A quick memory passed behind her eyes, the last time that he had touched her…
No, none of that, Lucy. Do not be so absurd!
She gave her head a shake and took his hand, breathing a sigh of relief when she did not feel a pulse erupt up her arm at his touch. And then, she allowed him to help her from the carriage.
“I worried we might have a repeat of our wedding day,” he said as she stepped beside him. He kept a hold of her hand, squeezing it tight so there was no chance she would let go.
She grinned. “I considered it.” His face dropped and she laughed. “Jokes, Marcus. Just jokes.”
“I am still getting used to your sense of humor, if that is what you call it.”
“You will come to love it, I promise you. Everyone else does.” She winked at him and he frowned.
Now, holding hands, standing together, the two approached the gathering as man and wife for the very first time.
The picnic was centered around a stunning lake with water of aqua that glistened in the midmorning sun.
By the lake stood a large pavilion and inside the pavilion was a small orchestra whose angelic music drifted pleasantly over the lake and across the park.
Around both the lake and the pavilion were gathered the guests, and there looked to be at least two score of them.
Many of them were members of the peerage, and Lucy recognized a few faces.
The women especially, in their elegant gowns of every color, were those who Lucy either knew well or had seen growing up.
But most were of the gentry, businessmen with money who were desperate to find favor among the lords who ruled over them all.
Children were about also; they laughed and shouted as they ran to and fro. A few of the guests had their dogs with them. And Lucy saw more than one governess with a baby who she minded as her lord and lady socialized.
It was a busy event, more than what Lucy expected. For that reason, the nerves she felt earlier returned.
“There is nothing to be nervous about,” Marcus said as if he could read her mind.
“Who said that I am?” she shot back.
“The way your arm shakes is indication enough.”
“Oh…”
“They are not here for you,” he assured her gently. “Most will not even notice you. It is me who they wish to see.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
“Does it?”
She rolled her eyes. “Do not worry, I will not embarrass you.”
“I am not worried that you will embarrass me…” They walked slowly toward the lake, following a stone path that wound through colorful flowerbeds and trimmed hedges. As they did, Marcus eyed her. “I am worried about you.”
“You are?”
“Of course,” he said. “This might not be a regular marriage, but you are still my wife. And I do not want you to have a heart attack when there is no need.”
Lucy narrowed her eyes as she studied her husband.
She wanted to believe that he was just saying these things to ease her. After all, their reception today might greatly affect his standing among these business associates, and no doubt he worried that she would embarrass him.
But from the way he looked at her, the way he squeezed her hand, she knew that it wasn’t nearly that simple. He did worry about her, he did care about her well-being, and he did mean it when he asked how she was feeling.
Strangely, this thought made her relax, safety found knowing that he was there for her. Not something that Lucy expected, but something she greatly appreciated.
“I will be fine,” she assured him with a warm smile. “But thank you for asking.”
“If you need anything,” he said. “I am right here.” He squeezed her hand again and she felt it pulse up her arm so that she gasped.
What was that…
Lucy had little opportunity to ponder on the way her arm tingled and her hand burned because no sooner had Marcus spoke did they reach the outer limits of where the partygoers were gathered were they pulled into various conversations of which Lucy had little interest.
“Your Grace!” a young gentleman was the first to come and greet them. He looked like a member of the gentry, noticeable because he was finely dressed beyond what the event called for. “I am so glad that you made it.”
“Mr. Darcy,” Marcus greeted. “I would not miss it.”
“Ah, this must be your wife,” Mr. Darcy said as he turned and bowed deeply. “Your Grace, it is a pleasure to meet you.”
“As it is you,” she said politely.
“She insisted that she come,” Marcus told Mr. Darcy. He held her hand tight as he spoke. “I told her there was no need but…” He chuckled but it sounded awkward. “That’s married life for you. We can hardly get enough of one another.”
Mr. Darcy smirked. “I am sure.”
It went on that way for some time.
Again and again, a random lord or member of the gentry would approach.
Sometimes on his own, sometimes with his wife, and always Marcus would be sure to exaggerate his and her love for one another.
He spoke as if they were in the throes of a passionate romance, hardly able to get enough of one another, and it always came across as false and forced.
“My only regret is that we did not meet sooner,” he told an older gentleman named Mr. Farnsworth. “I so regret the years we spent apart, wasted as they were.”
“I wake up every morning, thanking God himself that he brought us together,” Marcus explained to Lord and Lady Westwood. “And before I sleep every night, I do the same.”
“Getting lost in her eyes,” he told Mr. Swallow when asked how the two have been spending the first days of their marriage. “For which, surely, you cannot blame me for.”
Lucy stood silently throughout, studying her husband as the urge to say something slowly built inside of her.
She knew what today’s purpose was, and she had no problem with it whatsoever.
Just as she knew what she needed to do to complete this ruse that Marcus was so sold on.
The problem, as she saw it, was how fake it all sounded.
To her ears, it came across as if he was saying what he thought they would want to hear, without saying anything that might suggest that the two were happy.
All these cliches and tropes are surely not working. While I know little of love and romance, I know enough to understand that love is not about compliments and exaggerated declarations.
It is not real… anyone can see it!
It was just after Marcus finished explaining how utterly obsessed he was with Lucy that she decided that she’d had enough. While she did not really care what people thought of them, she knew that Marcus did, and that was what mattered.
“Marcus…” She pulled gently on his hand. “Might I have a word?”
“Oh?” He looked at her. “Is it urgent? I just spied Lord –”
“It is.” She widened her eyes at him. “Believe me, it is.”
He clicked his tongue, gestured to the lord who was coming their way, and allowed Lucy to pull him from the crowd so that they were alone. She was sure not to look annoyed, smiling the whole way, not wanting people to think that they were having a fight.
However, once they were separated from the small gathering, she turned on him.
“You really need to stop,” she said.
He blinked. “Stop? Stop what?”
“The way you are behaving… the things you are saying. They are ridiculous. Worse than that, they are so obviously false I am surprised that nobody has called you out.”