Chapter 5 #2
“But will I find a better match than a duke?” Harriet pointed out. “He did not seem particularly cruel. Distant, but not unkind.”
“You have only met him once.” Louisa pointed out reasonably. “This is the rest of your life we are talking about. Not to mention… Well, wifely duties.”
Harriet choked on her tea and Fiona thumped her hard on the back. Catherine shot Louisa a look and said, “I think we are putting the cart before the horse. All that matters for now, is what Hettie wants.”
What do I want? Harriet drew in a shaky breath, massaging her throat as she tried to school her thoughts. When was the last time anyone had asked her what she wanted? The Duke certainly had not. The thought was like a thorn driving into her hand, and she seized on it.
He had made the whole mad thing sound so simple, and here she was considering it without question? Perhaps Louisa has a point. “I am not sure.”
“Then perhaps it is best to find out.” Catherine.
The clock chimed three o’clock and Fiona and Louisa sighed. Fiona stood and slipped on her coat. “We should be heading to the theatre. Phillip and Antony are escorting us for the evening.”
“You should join us, Hettie.” Louisa gestured to the door. “The Blackwoods have a private box after all, so you would not need to worry about crowds.”
On another evening, the offer might have been tempting, but Harriet suspected that Fiona learning of her potential for engagement might only further her attempt to see at least one of them married to one of her brothers.
That is the last thing I need. Harriet liked Fiona’s brothers well enough, but none of them ever seemed to pay her particular attention. Like most men she had met, they were polite, but their gazes never lingered.
The Duke’s quiet intensity stole into her mind, and the air around her thickened, crackling with the memory of it. She pushed it away. He is intense, that does not mean he was looking at you intensely.
Harriet shook her head. “No, I need to think about all of this. I fear I would be terrible company. Perhaps next time.”
She embraced Fiona and Louisa and watched as the steward escorted them to the front door. When she turned back to Catherine, she saw that she was standing.
Catherine hugged her. “I know I am biased because of everything that has happened, but I am also the only one who knows what you might be going through.”
“What do you think I should do?” Harriet asked, her voice small as she gazed into her friend’s kindly face.
“Listen to your heart.” Catherine placed a hand gently on her chest. “It will know what to do.”
Harriet laughed, though it came out more bitter than she intended. “I thought my heart longed for spinsterhood, for a little cottage somewhere up North. Peace and quiet.”
“That sounds rather lonely.” There was no judgement in Catherine’s tone, nor was there a question, it was simply a soft and gentle nudge.
“I like my own company.” Harriet smiled, hoping it would hide the way her heart was racing in her chest. “You know how overwhelming I find people. Perhaps I am not cut out for intimacy and such things.”
“Lady Harriet Montrose,” Catherine gave her a stern look that was undercut by the gentleness of her voice, “you deserve a life full of love and laughter. A life where someone sees just how wonderful you are, and treasures you for it. Clearly, Phoebe has seen that in you. Perhaps there is a reason.”
Before Harriet could say another word, there was a knock at the door. She turned to see her father standing in the doorway. “A pleasure to see you, Duchess.”
“And you, Lord Devonmere.” Catherine curtseyed as Harriet’s father swept into a bow.
“Will you be staying long?” Her father’s question made Harriet frown. He never asked such things, not unless he wished for someone to leave.
“I was just leaving.” Catherine replied as Harriet’s stomach lurched.
The relief on her father’s face only made Harriet’s heart race, even as he said, “There is no rush, of course. I would not wish you to think me inhospitable.”
“Not at all. I have no wish to overstay my welcome.” Catherine squeezed Harriet’s hand. “Do come and visit soon Hettie.”
Harriet nodded numbly, rooted to the spot as Catherine left the room and her father turned to her, rubbing his hands together and then running a hand through his wispy grey hair.
“Well, that certainly is fortunate timing.” His eyes went to the door and then back to her. “There is someone here to see you. Mr. Grey, you may announce our guest.”
Her father’s steward bowed low. Harriet could not tell if the sound she heard was the steady beat of her heart or heavy footsteps coming towards her.
A shadow loomed across the doorway, and she barely heard Mr. Grey’s words as a tall, handsome man swept into a low bow, flaring his dark black travelling cape behind him.
Dark blue eyes met her own as the steward said, “His Grace, Duke of Irondale.”
“A pleasure to see you again, Lady Harriet.” His eyes never left her face, his deep voice filled the room. “I expect you know why I am here.”
She nodded, her mouth too dry to form words. Has he already spoken to my father?
Harriet looked at her father, and knew from his expression that the Duke had at the very least discussed it with him. The hopeful but cautious look in her father’s eyes told her that he approved of the match, but that he would not force it upon her.
The room shrunk around her, the room impossibly small. Had it always been so small? She dug her nails into her palms, forcing herself to breath in slow and measured breaths.
“I think I should leave the two of you to discuss this. Miss Helena, would you mind acting as chaperone?” He gestured to Harriet’s maid who had clearly been lurking nearby. “Over there if you do not mind.”
Helena nodded and sat in a seat in the far corner of the room, busying herself with embroidery. The acoustics and size of the drawing room meant that Harriet and the Duke would be able to carry out a conversation with relative privacy while not breaching the rules of propriety.
A wild urge to scream swelled in Harriet as the door shut behind her. Every muscle in her body was tense as a tightly coiled spring.
The Duke turned to face her, his face giving nothing away. “Do you have an answer for me?”
Harriet looked into his eyes, feeling as though she were falling into two deep pools. She felt the tug of the water, pulling her deeper, curling around her possessively as cold seeped into her bones. Louisa’s face filled her mind, then Fiona’s then Catherines. What do you want?
The word fell from her mouth before she could stop it. “No.”