Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Johanna
With her hand on the Duke of St. Albans’ arm, Johanna felt as if she was in a dream. She must have fainted before walking out onto the stage, and at any moment, she would awake to find that she still must go on.
But the dream did not end as St. Albans gave Mr. O’Connell a princely sum of money—an amount that could have been a respectable dowry.
She only managed to stir when she realized that Mr. Blash had disappeared.
She frowned, but she supposed he did not need to be there for this part.
Mr. O’Connell could pass on his share later.
It was not until Mr. O’Connell turned away from her that she stirred.
“Half of that is mine,” she said, starting out faint but her voice growing stronger as she spoke. “I need it for my family.”
“Half of it is Blash’s,” Mr. O’Connell said without looking up. “What he shares with you is none of my business.”
“But—”
“Do not worry,” St. Albans said soothingly. “Whatever you need, I will provide.”
“But—” she tried to protest again, but the duke was already steering her out of Mr. O’Connell’s office. Despite several days’ worth of regular meals, she did not have the strength to pull away from him or to turn them around.
“We need to get you out of here,” he said in a low voice as he swept her into the hall. “It is not safe here.”
Although she was uncertain what he meant, she did believe him.
He sounded completely sincere, and she trusted him at least somewhat.
He would not have been at the Blackstone house party, and she would not have been introduced to him if Lady Astrid had not thought him a suitable prospect for a husband.
Another man appeared at the end of the hall, also dark-haired, but his hair was shorter, his eyes lighter, and his complexion swarthier than St. Albans’.
She recognized him immediately—Lady Astrid’s betrothed, the Duke of Ormonde.
What was he doing here? A moment later, another man turned the corner, who she also recognized from the house party as he’d been the only blond duke present, the Duke of Montagu.
Even here, in their tawdry surroundings, next to two other exceedingly attractive dukes, his male beauty made him stand out.
She’d heard the titters at the house party—the ladies called him the Adonis of the ton.
“Good, you’ve got her,” Ormonde said shortly. “You and Christian get her out of here.”
“And what are you doing?” St. Albans asked, but Ormonde had already turned on his heel and was striding off. St. Albans picked up his pace, pulling Johanna along with him to the juncture where Montagu waited with a grim set to his jaw. “Where is he going?” St. Albans questioned.
“I do not know, but he is not wrong about needing to get her out of here,” Montagu said shortly.
His gaze swept over her as if to ascertain she was unharmed, but then flicked away as if dismissing her once he knew she was hale.
“There are already rumblings in the other room about who might have her after you’re done with her. ”
A chill swept through Johanna as St. Albans cursed under his breath.
“We’ll talk to Ormonde later,” he announced. “How do we get out of here?”
“This way. My lady.” Montagu smiled charmingly, bowed, then led the way, which was in the opposite direction from where Ormonde had disappeared.
Several turns, then they were out the door and into the night.
Despite the warmth of the evening air, Johanna still felt chilled.
Her mind was desperately trying to keep up with what was happening around her.
She was physically safe now, but without the promised funds…
but still in possession of her virtue and a duke who said he would take care of everything.
Did she dare trust that? What other choice did she have at this moment?
Both men pressed against her, one on either side.
Guarding her, she realized, as they made their way down several streets before reaching the carriage waiting for them.
She was grateful for their presence as the fog of London curled around the dark streets, creating foreboding shadows in every nook and cranny.
Being on her own would have been terrifying.
St. Albans helped her into the carriage, then followed her into the enclosed space. It was not until Montagu had joined them and rapped his knuckles on the roof, causing it to lurch forward in response, that she shook herself free from the silent shock that had gripped her.
They might think they were rescuing her from a horrid situation, but she had been there for a reason, and she’d received no assurances from St. Albans other than the initial declaration.
Why would he give her money for nothing?
He must have been trying to get her out of there to save her reputation, but her reputation was worth less than nothing if she couldn’t save her family.
“Wait! I need the money, my family—”
“I told you,” St. Albans said, taking hold of her hand and squeezing it tightly. He sounded completely serious. “I will take care of it. All you have to do is agree to marry me.”
Now she knew she was dreaming. The Duke of St. Albans had just proposed marriage to her.
It did not sound like jest, but surely any moment, both men would explode into laughter.
Except that, across from her, the Duke of Montagu’s mouth had dropped open in utter shock, but he did not laugh, nor did he protest. St. Albans ignored him, keeping his gaze steady on her even as she stared back and forth between the two dukes in utter disbelief.
“Marry you?” Her voice squeaked. Montagu’s reaction or not, she had to be dreaming.
“Yes. Marry me.” The duke sounded completely serious. “Then my funds will be yours to spend as you please.”
“I… You do not understand. My family…”
“Is very poor.” He nodded, looking at her dress. “I can see that.”
She felt color bloom in her cheeks. The dress had once been light blue, but now it was faded grey and tattered. She’d taken care of it the best she could since arriving in London, but she knew it was hardly the kind of garment a lady of the ton would willingly be seen in.
“Matthew,” Montagu muttered, covering his face with his hand.
“What? Am I supposed to ignore the obvious?” St. Albans grinned widely, suddenly, and he was even more handsome smiling than when he was serious.
Johanna had not truly noticed at the house party. She had not wanted to notice. She would have married any of the men who offered to help her and her family. Now was no different, was it?
“You need money for your family, yes? I have plenty, and I am happy to help them.”
“We are… my mother is starving.” Tears flooded her eyes as she said the words aloud, choking her. “We barely made it through the winter. The house needs repairs. Everything needs repairs. The children do not have enough food or clothes—”
“Marry me, and none of you will ever want again.” St. Albans’ grin had faded at her words, and he lifted her hand to his lips to kiss her knuckles.
Johanna felt a flutter go through her belly, one that was different from those that came when she had gone without any food for too long.
“This is the most unusual proposal, but it does suit you somehow,” Montagu said, shaking his head.
She turned to look at him because she needed someone else to tell her this was really happening. Someone who was not the man proposing to marry her for no good reason.
“He is serious, then?” She could hear the desperation, the hope in her voice.
“Utterly.” Montagu answered immediately, and he seemed entirely sincere. “He would not propose without meaning it. I suppose you flipped for it?” The question was directed at St. Albans. Johanna did not understand what he meant, but the duke nodded his head.
At the house party, Johanna would have cried with joy at the prospect of marrying a rich duke.
That he was young and handsome did not make a difference, though it was a relief.
He did not seem cruel. She hoped he was as kind as his smile suggested.
She had to believe that Lady Astrid would not have introduced him to marriage-minded debutantes otherwise.
Not that it mattered.
In order to save her family, she had been prepared to do far worse than marry a duke.
“Yes,” she told him. “I will marry you.”
The smile he flashed was blinding.
“Good. Now, tell me about your family.”
Matthew
Lady Johanna’s family was even worse off than they’d supposed.
Matthew and Christian exchanged a glance when she told them about meeting Mr. Blash.
The idea that he was providing for her family off his own income…
Matthew thought it far more likely that he was supplementing his income with funds that should have gone to her family.
Clearly, she had not suspected anything, and he was loath to part her from that particularly charming na?veté before he had to. There was something very sweet and soft about her, despite the hard hand she’d been dealt. He would rather preserve that aspect of her, not crush it.
But he would certainly have someone look into Mr. Blash.
Matthew would get Lady Johanna settled in his home and introduce her to his grandmother and staff.
Christian would head to her family’s home and pack them up to bring them to Matthew’s.
He was more than happy to pay for whatever repairs were needed to their home while they were with him, so they could eventually return.
He could sponsor her brother, and his grandmother would likely enjoy having young ladies to bring up.
In the meantime, having a happy, grateful bride—very much unlike his friend Nathanial, who had recently married and begun his married life rather coldly—sounded very nice to Matthew.
He should have thought of this before. He had no need of a wife with a dowry of any kind, and this way her entire family would be grateful to him rather than considering it a social triumph to marry a duke.