Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Johanna
“What was it like?” Rose asked in a low whisper, glancing at Lady Stark, where she was speaking with the shopkeeper about bonnets for Bridget and Charlotte.
They’d barely been able to speak privately during the day, so they took every opportunity for Johanna to catch Rose up on what had transpired between her and the duke.
It was all Johanna had to offer to get Rose to speak to her, once she’d admitted to Rose the real manner in which the duke had found her.
Her cousin and best friend had been furious to know that Johanna was going to offer herself up in such a manner, and that she had not even tried consulting with Rose on other options.
Despite the fact that Rose had not been there to consult with.
If Mr. Blash was smart, he would stay well away from the Falmouth household from now on. The duke seemed very displeased with him, but it was Rose’s retribution he would really need to fear.
Telling Rose about the duke kissing her last night was the first thing that had broken through her cousin’s icy facade. Neither of them had been kissed before yesterday.
“It was…” Johanna groped for the right description. ‘Wet’ did not nearly do it justice despite its accuracy, because it did not encompass any of the emotions or the reaction she’d had. ‘Hot’ had the same problem. “Magical.”
Both of them giggled, and Johanna flushed from head to toe with the remembered sensations.
Her body still felt as though it was buzzing.
Especially after seeing him at breakfast this morning.
She’d barely been able to look at him. When she had, he’d winked, and she’d felt like hiding under the table.
“Then there should be no problem on the wedding night,” Rose said, sounding relieved.
Though neither she nor Johanna had been kissed, they knew a bit about what to expect between a man and a woman.
Women had come seeking Johanna’s mother for certain herbs and potions to help keep them from getting with child, as well as for assistance with births.
Not the normal occupation for a countess, but Johanna’s mother had been happy to assist. As such, Johanna knew the basics of what went on between a man and a woman.
But she had not known that it would feel so… so…
Good.
Especially because there had been instances for the young women visiting her mother where it had certainly not been good for them. A sobering thought, but also a relief that she would not experience such a thing. Because of her knight. Her duke.
“Rose. Come here. Gloves.” Lady Stark beckoned.
Rose obeyed with a sigh and a sardonic look at Johanna.
She shrugged.
She was certainly not going to apologize for sharing her good fortune with her cousin and sisters. If Lady Stark wanted to outfit them all, then Lady Stark would outfit them all.
A tug on her sleeve made her look down.
Charlotte. Clad in all light grey. With her light coloring, the effect was very… creepy. As Johanna had told Matthew. Though she had not admitted that she’d always rather liked that about Charlotte. Her youngest sister walked to the beat of her own drum, and Johanna admired that about her.
“Yes, darling?” she asked gently, leaning down so Charlotte would not have to raise her voice to be heard. She liked to speak softly, when she spoke at all, perhaps because Micah and Bridget tended to make enough noise for all of them.
“Mama’s wrong,” Charlotte told her quite seriously. “You need to marry the duke.”
Turning in place, though she did not seem to actually move her feet when she did so, Charlotte glided away.
A shiver went down Johanna’s spine. Yes, her youngest sister was a touch eerie at times.
As if those violet eyes knew things other people did not.
Even though Johanna knew the same was occasionally said about her, with Charlotte…
she was not certain they were incorrect.
“What was that about?” Bridget asked from behind Johanna. Straightening, Johanna turned and cast a gimlet eye at her middle sister.
Charlotte could be unsettling just by being herself, but Bridget would deliberately work to discombobulate a person.
“She’s glad I’m marrying the duke,” Johanna said simply, rather than getting further into what Charlotte might have meant and what she might have overheard.
“So am I.” Bridget preened, holding out her hands, which were covered with a fetching pair of kid gloves, a fawn color that nearly matched her hair. “Look at these gloves! We have whole new wardrobes, Johanna!” She spun in place, too delighted to remember to be ladylike.
Johanna could not help but laugh. It had been so long since her sisters had anything to be happy over, especially when it came to their clothing or fripperies. And Bridget did love her clothing and fripperies.
“Do not be gauche, Bridget,” Lady Stark said. “It is not done to rub others’ noses in your good fortune.”
“I am sorry, Lady Stark.” Bridget beamed at her, not appearing sorry at all. “I am just so happy. Thank you so much for your generosity. Today is the best day of my life.”
Happy and winsome enough that the shopkeeper and other ladies in the shop were all smiling at her, some with sympathy after the set-down Lady Stark had given her.
Even Lady Stark was not immune to Bridget’s charm, though she did her best to hide her smile.
Johanna could have told her it was not worth the attempt—even the hint of a smile and Bridget became incorrigible.
If she was not also sweet, generous, and genuinely appreciative, she would have been insufferable.
“Gunter’s,” Lady Stark declared. “For ice cream.”
Bridget cheered, and Johanna could not stop herself from making a very small cheering sound of her own. It truly was a wonderful day.
And tomorrow she would marry a duke. Bridget might be excited, but Johanna was still terrified.
Still, if last night was anything to go by, there were some parts of being a duchess that she thought she might enjoy.
Matthew
Spending time with Micah Ashfield was rather enjoyable, Matthew found.
While part of him felt as though he should be looking for the Earl of Cornwall and finding out why he’d invited the Duke of Hereford to the hunting lodge where he’d died, it was nice to help someone with their problems for a bit instead.
First, he took Micah to the tailor, which thankfully did not require much input from him since they were well equipped to outfit the earl without Matthew’s opinion. After that, it was several stops at shops for other necessities, by which time Micah was beginning to look a bit apprehensive.
“Is something amiss?” Matthew asked him. “Was there something else you needed?” He did not like seeing the young man’s exuberance dimmed.
Micah shook his head.
“You have already done too much,” he said quietly, ducking his head down and glancing at Matthew as they walked along the street.
The passersby were paying very little attention to them, other than those who recognized Matthew and made their acknowledgments.
Several glanced at Micah’s startlingly light hair with interest, but no more than that. “I am not sure I can ever repay you.”
“You do not need to,” Matthew reassured him, feeling utterly generous.
He’d already flipped his coin and knew that he was paying for everything, as a gift.
“I am marrying your sister. It is only expected from the ton that I would take you under my wing and ensure you and your family are provided for.”
For a long moment, Micah was silent, processing that thought as they ambled down the road.
“I feel as though I should not lean on you, though,” he replied quietly. “I am going to be an earl.”
“When you reach your majority, that might be true,” Matthew agreed cheerfully. “But you will always be able to come to me with any questions you have. We are going to be family.”
Though he would not have gone to his own father with questions, Matthew had good friends who he could approach with any of his issues.
He had seen some of their relationships with their fathers and knew what was possible.
Not that Micah was his son, but he could fill the role in some manner, especially as Micah’s guardian had proven to be deficient.
Even if the man was not stealing from the estate, suggesting that Johanna sell herself at such an auction as they’d attempted…
The man was a scoundrel and a reprobate from that alone.
“You should also cultivate a group of friends. You’ll find them at university, most likely, or among your peers,” Matthew explained as a man who fit such a description appeared at the corner.
The Duke of Ormonde was also out for a walk today…
or perhaps, going by his disheveled appearance and unshaven jawline, on his way home from the night before. “Come along.”
Matthew picked up the pace, and Micah followed him with alacrity.
“Ormonde!” Matthew called out before Drake could cross the street, not caring that it was gauche. Perhaps he should have checked with his coin, but there was not enough time, and he did not want Drake to disappear into the crowd.
The other man paused and turned, his expression clearing when he saw that it was Matthew hailing him. His eyes flicked to Matthew’s side, where Micah was coming along.
“St. Albans,” he said with a formal nod. “And Falmouth, I presume.”
“The Duke of Ormonde,” Matthew told Micah, who breathlessly made his bow.
Despite his rumpled clothing and hairy face, Drake made a rather imposing figure in his black attire, relieved only by the starchy white of his shirt and the copper pocket square tucked over his breast. There was always something about him that exuded high amounts of confidence, even for a duke.
“I was hoping to catch you,” Matthew said. “I was wondering if you’d sent out the investigators yet.”
“Sent, and they have returned.” Drake’s dark gaze flicked over Matthew and Micah. “I was going to visit you this afternoon. You might as well come with me. This is not a discussion for the street.”
Which was how Micah ended up visiting the Duke of Ormonde’s household with Matthew and learned that not only had his former guardian been stealing from them, but he’d fled to the Americas already. He’d boarded the ship yesterday and was currently far out of their reach.
Micah knew a startling number of curses for a youth in a household full of women, and he fair blistered the air with them as he paced around in a rage afterward.
Neither of the dukes stopped him. They both understood that kind of anger. If anything, Drake looked upon him more companionably once he’d settled back down.
“There is nothing to be done for now,” Drake told Micah once he’d sat, slumping in his seat with a weariness in his expression that went far beyond his years.
He really was far too thin. Living in Matthew’s household, under his grandmother’s wing, should help rectify that.
“I will send men after him, and we will have him returned to England to pay for his crimes when we can. In the meantime, we will have Matthew appointed as your new guardian and recover what funds we can.”
“But why would you do all this for me?” Micah asked, looking at Drake with utter bewilderment. “I know Matthew is to be my brother-in-law and feels responsible… but why are you doing this?”
“Because sometimes everyone needs some help, and when we receive it, it is our responsibility to either repay it or to pay it forward,” Drake explained calmly, handing the young man a glass of water to sip from.
Micah pondered this when there was a knock at the door, and Drake’s butler came in with a silver tray balanced on one hand.
“The mail, Your Grace,” he intoned somberly, holding the tray out in front of him with a small bow so that Drake could pick up the stack of letters and cards. Having performed his service, he immediately exited back out of the room.
The duke shuffled through them quickly and raised his eyebrows before lifting a single invitation from the pile.
“Your wedding is tomorrow?” he asked Matthew. “And a dinner tonight, in lieu of an engagement ball.”
“Really?” Matthew asked, trying to lean forward and see what was written there. “That must be my grandmother’s doing. I did not realize we were to host anything tonight. What time?”
Drake snorted his amusement, shaking his head as he handed the invitation over for Micah to see.
“I will be there,” he said. “I am looking forward to being properly introduced to your bride.”
Since the last time he’d seen her had been immediately following Matthew’s purchase of her at the auction. If Micah caught the reference, it did not show on his face.
“If Grandmama is inviting you, she is probably inviting the others,” Matthew said, scanning over the invitation.
“The others?” Micah asked.
“The tragic dukes,” Drake explained. He grimaced when Micah shook his head in confusion, and Matthew shrugged.
He had not told the story to his bride’s family, because it did not seem of any importance.
“Those of us who inherited our titles early when our fathers were killed in a fire at the hunting lodge they were visiting.”
“That’s terrible, I’m so sorry,” Micah replied, with all the sad fervor of someone who understood completely—because of course he did. “What a terrible accident.”
Drake and Matthew exchanged glances.
“Actually,” Drake said, leaning forward to brace his elbows against his knees, before Matthew could flip his coin to decide whether to tell Micah. “There is something you should know, as your sister is marrying Matthew and you are the man of the house…”
Because it had been no accident, though that was the official verdict of the investigation.
So far, it did not seem as though there was any further danger, but there was always the chance of something they’d missed.
Or of stirring things up now that they were investigating their fathers’ deaths, if the culprit got wind of what they were doing.
It was unlikely Johanna would be put in any danger by marrying Matthew, but there was always the chance. Her brother, even if he had not reached his majority, should know the truth.
Matthew supposed that eventually he would need to tell Johanna as well.
Pulling out his coin, he gave it a quick flip as Drake filled Micah in.
Apparently, it would have to wait for another day.