Chapter 16 #2
“He suspected. He asked on occasion if he could meet my father’s uncle, but I always made excuses.
I made certain it never happened. At one point I read in the paper that the Earl of whom we had availed ourselves had died, which gave me some breathing room.
” She looked at him. “Gideon … someone knows. There were whispers at Almack’s.
If it becomes known that I am not truly related to any noble family, that I am nothing more than a commoner who deceived her way into her current position—”
“It would be a disaster,” he said. “Yes. We would never find you a husband then.” He shook his head slowly.
“Perhaps we could find out who knows. I could speak to them. Make certain they stay quiet. In the meantime we could put it about that the whole thing is a hum — started by Lord Henry, perhaps, out of spite. Nobody would find that difficult to believe.”
“Gideon,” she said, exasperated. “Do you not see? It is over. The whole venture is imploding. We cannot continue on this way.” She looked at him. “Are you not angry?”
A mischievous expression flashed across his face. Then a smile.
“You knew,” she said. “You already knew.”
“I may have. Your father may have mentioned this particular difficulty.” He scratched his chin, where a day’s growth had come in. “When he asked me to look after you, he mentioned that this matter might one day come up and need to be addressed.”
She could not quite believe what she was hearing. He had known. And he had not cared.
“I lied to you,” she said. “How can you not be angry?”
“Did you truly think I expected you to lay the truth at my feet the moment I walked through your door? No. I am well aware of how opposed you were to this whole venture. Your father told me. I had hoped we could find you a husband and get you settled before this matter ever arose. I thought that once you found a gentleman who adored you, as you ought to be adored, he would not care about the truth even if it did come out.”
“But we have failed,” she said. “We have failed.”
“We have not failed yet. All we have right now are a few rumours. Nothing more. All can still be well.”
Helena shook her head. “You cannot seriously expect us to believe that, Your Grace. You know what this means. Society loves rumours above all else. Even if we were to find somebody now, it would be exceedingly difficult to get them to agree to the match.”
“And then what? What when they discover my secret? It would be humiliating, not only for myself, but for Lavinia. How can she ever be expected to find a respectable husband? She will be fortunate to find a position as a governess somewhere.”
“She is a legitimately titled child,” Gideon pointed out.
“I know that. But her own family does not want anything to do with her. I must assume it is because they know of my low birth though I do not quite understand why Emmett decided to provide funds at all. That is a puzzle.”
Gideon looked away and then got up. He walked to the kitchen window and ran one hand through his hair.
“It is an utter disaster,” she said. “All this work for nothing. I do beg your pardon for wasting your time.” She looked up.
He still said nothing. Was he angry after all?
She could not blame him. Even if he had known, even if her darkest secret had been no secret to him at all, she had still dragged him into this.
“You can see now,” she said, “how important it is that you extract yourself from this situation with all possible haste. If you have any chance of claiming that you knew nothing about any of this, you must distance yourself from me at once. It is only right.”
“Balderdash,” he said. The word came out quiet and firm. She looked up. Anger had seeped into his voice, and when he turned to her she saw that same anger reflected in his face. “Balderdash,” he repeated. “I will not retreat. Not now. Not ever.”
Helena stared at him, and for a moment she was quite still, taking in his words. Did he mean it? He intended to stand by her? But how? It would be foolish, utterly ridiculous, an act of sheer stupidity. And if she had learned one thing about Gideon, it was that he was not a stupid man.
He shook his head and curled his right hand into a fist, pressing his knuckles into his palm. This would not do. Not in the least.
“All is not lost,” he said. “Even if we cannot find you a husband with all haste, I will not let this go. I do not think you still fully understand what your father meant to me. He was an honourable man. Someone I admired greatly. So what if he allowed himself to be drawn into his wife’s schemes?
Were they even such questionable schemes?
She did what she thought best for her family.
It is utterly ridiculous that our society is so very focused upon titles that it cannot see people for who they are.
Even amongst us titled folk there is a hierarchy.
You saw what happened to me. I was not born a Duke and people still look down upon me for it.
It is absurd, and I will not let you fall prey to it. No, there is still a solution.”
“What is it?” she asked, and her tone was more amused than anything else.
He took a deep breath. He had thought about this all night, ever since Lady Marlborough had made her cryptic remark at Almack’s that was not, in truth, all that cryptic.
He had known there was a possibility that the secret Captain Hartwell had entrusted him with so long ago was soon not to be a secret any longer.
He had stayed up all night turning it over, examining what options remained, what he could do for her and then at three o’clock in the morning, when the sun had not even begun to contemplate rising, it had come to him. The obvious solution.
“We must get married,” he said.
“What?” She leapt out of her chair. “Have you lost your mind? Are you in your cups? You must be for that suggestion is utterly ridiculous.”
“Is it? If you were married to a Duke, you would be elevated to the highest echelon of society. And if somebody were then to come forward and say that you were merely a commoner’s daughter.
So what? You would be a Duchess. People would be more desperate for your companionship and influence than they would ever be for some old rumour. ”
“But you just told me yourself that people still look down upon you, even though you are a Duke.”
He really had to stop laying traps for himself. He thought this privately and with some feeling.
“Yes, I did say that. But I am still a Duke. You saw what happened at Almack’s — Lady Marlborough chose me over Lord Henry because I outrank him.”
“Because Lord Henry is a horrid man.”
“That too. But still a lady patroness would never eject a Duke from her establishment over a Viscount or a Baron. The same is true in the House of Lords. People are so desperate for alliances with powerful men — and make no mistake, I am both rich and powerful — that they will overlook a great many things. There may always be people who treat you as less than, but you will have a powerful title. And what is more, I have friends who are well respected, and their wives will embrace you. I know it. James’s wife Frances was a gentleman’s daughter. And she is very well respected.”
“She did not claim to be something she was not,” Helena said.
“And neither did you, truly. In fact, if you marry me and become a Duchess, Lavinia will remain Lord Vale’s daughter, but she will be my stepdaughter. She will be connected to two noble houses. Nobody will care about her mother’s parentage. Think about it. It is the perfect solution.”
“For whom?” she said, raising her arms and letting them fall to her sides.
“For all of us. I must have a wife eventually. You need a husband. And I see no reason for the arrangement to be anything other than sensible.”
She shook her head and crossed her arms, walking the length of the kitchen several times before coming to a stop.
“I do not seek romance. I agreed to this venture for purely practical reasons. I require a husband and a secure future for my daughter. I cannot give you love or affection. If I were to say yes to this, it would have to be a marriage of convenience. I would expect you to continue living your life as you always have. Doing whatever you have always done.”
He smirked, because he knew exactly what she meant. His habit of chasing skirts and placing bets.
The truth was, he had not expected this reply. He wasn’t sure what he had expected but this was far more like the Helena he had come to know. A practical answer to a practical problem.
Did he want a practical marriage? It had not occurred to him to think about it in those terms. He had rather cast himself as the hero of the piece over the last few hours since his three o’clock epiphany, and had not paused to consider the practicalities.
But it made sense. He needed a wife, that was true.
He had once hoped for love, with Cassandra, but she had broken something in him, and perhaps it would make more sense to have a practical arrangement with someone he already trusted.
Someone who might, in time, become something more.
Perhaps it was foolish to even hope for that. But the truth was, he liked Helena. More than liked her. The thought of spending his life with her had filled him with a kind of quiet joy he had not known in a very long time.
But it seemed she did not feel the same. Or did not wish to.
“I dare say we are friends,” he said.
“We are. Of course we are.”
“And that would be reflected in our marriage. We would carry on much as we have of late.”
“We could,” she said. “Just as long as you do not expect anything more of me.”
“I will not,” he said. “Let us be clear about the terms. We will be married. You will serve as my wife at official functions, and behind closed doors we will be the good friends we have become. I will be a loving stepfather to Lavinia.”
“And you will be free,” she said. “Free to do …”
“Whatever pleases me. Yes. You were quite clear.” He paused. “Very well. I can agree to those terms.”
He extended his hand. She waited for a moment, looking at his hand, then his face, then his hand again. Then she took a few steps forward and placed her hand into his.
The feeling of her skin against his sent a sudden burst of warmth through him, something he knew he did not need to be feeling at this particular moment, but there it was. She had made herself clear. She wanted no romance, and what he was feeling now fell squarely into that category.
He steadied himself. But she held onto his hand for just one second longer than was necessary. And that one second was enough for him to wonder whether perhaps, despite everything she had said, she too felt that small spark ignite between them.