Chapter 5
The screams of the Wallace sisters could certainly be heard all throughout Mayfair.
Though Joseph doubted Catriona, his future wife, had joined in.
Based on the tense knit of her brows before she left the drawing room, he doubted she was overly ecstatic about their new arrangement, but her sisters clearly were.
The screams came five minutes into the uncomfortable stare down with the Earl of Heaton.
Joseph tried not to shift awkwardly in his chair, not looking away from the older man.
He seemed unperturbed by the loud sound though Joseph couldn’t tell if it was because he was apparently hard of hearing or simply used to it.
“They seem quite happy to hear of the news,” Joseph said, breaking the silence at last.
Lord Heaton didn’t even blink though he tightened his crossed arms against his chest. “Don’t mind them.”
The happy screams finally died down, so doing so was a little easier.
Though Joseph had been happy for something else to focus on other than the Earl’s scrutiny.
He’d attempted to broach the topic of having Catriona’s hand in marriage as soon as she left the room, but the Earl had simply held up a hand and said, “Give me one moment.”
“How many more moments do you need, My Lord?” Joseph finally asked. “At this rate, we will be sitting here all day.”
“Ah, he shows his true colors.” Lord Heaton inclined his head to the side.
“I had wondered why a man like yourself could possibly want to marry my niece. Other than the fact that she is a beautiful young lady and any man with half a brain should be jumping at the chance, I had assumed that you would be smart enough to know that Catriona is not like the other ladies in London.”
“I can see that she is not,” Joseph agreed. “And I can even see where she gets it from.”
Lord Heaton’s serious facade cracked at that, and he chuckled. “She doesn’t get it from me, I assure you. She’s strong, frustratingly independent, and she always thinks she is right. It will take a certain kind of gentleman to match her wit.”
“I am that gentleman.”
“You don’t know that. Just like you don’t know her. Which leads me back to my question of why you want to marry her.”
Joseph raised one brow. “I hadn’t realized that you’d overheard our conversation.”
“I didn’t,” the Earl said with ease. “But when you requested to speak with me in private, I simply assumed. And I guess I assumed correctly.”
Joseph nodded. There was no use beating around the bush. The quicker they got this conversation out of the way, the quicker they could move this entire process along. “Yes, I wish to marry Miss Wallace.”
“Why?”
“I need a wife, and I believe she will be a good fit. And I think she will benefit nicely from this arrangement.”
“And has she agreed to this?”
“I would not have brought this conversation to you if she hadn’t.”
“She did not seem very pleased when she left.”
“She agreed… reluctantly.”
“So, what did you promise her?”
Joseph fought the urge to let out a breath of frustration. He wasn’t in the mood for this needling.
Lord Heaton simply stared expectantly at him.
Joseph leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he clasped his hands and met the Earl’s eyes.
“Your niece will be in good hands, My Lord. Though I cannot promise that this is anything more than a convenient marriage, nor can I promise that I will love her, I can promise to respect, care, and provide for her for as long as she is mine.”
Lord Heaton nodded then clapped his hands as he launched to his feet. For such an elderly man, he moved rather sprightly, Joseph observed. “That’s all I needed to hear,” the Earl said. “And if Catriona agrees to this, then who am I to say nay? You handle pressure rather well, Your Grace.”
Joseph stood slowly, a little thrown by Lord Heaton’s change in demeanor. “I hadn’t realized that you were pressuring me.”
“You hadn’t?” The Earl scowled. “I’ll have to work on that then. It is about time I learn to perfect my ‘overbearing uncle’ role.”
Joseph didn’t know whether or not he was serious, didn’t know if he should laugh, so he simply moved on. “I would like to take Catriona for a promenade.”
“By all means, Your Grace, go ahead. You’ll quickly learn that no one can control what my niece does.”
Lord Heaton patted Joseph on the shoulder, and it somehow felt like both an apology and a warning. He watched Lord Heaton shake his head, clearly fighting a smile, before he picked up his book and went back into his corner to read, leaving Joseph to his own devices.
A little thrown by the entire conversation, Joseph left the room… and ran right into the butler.
The man, dressed all in black, straightened. “Would you like for me to see you out, Your Grace?”
“I would like to see Miss Wallace.”
The butler’s lips tightened. “I will see if she is available.”
And with that, he was left alone again.
After a couple of minutes, the screaming resumed, sounding much closer this time. Almost as if they were just a few doors away.
Joseph moved without thinking, following the sound. He didn’t know why he did it. He saw no virtue in eavesdropping on conversations—on purpose at least—but his curiosity got the best of him.
“He’s in love!”
“Oh, hush, Maisie, you know good and well that he isn’t.”
He didn’t recognize the first voice, but he was certain that the second person who spoke was his newly betrothed, and she sounded absolutely exasperated.
“If you two must know,” she went on, “our marriage will be one of convenience. We harbor no affectionate feelings for each other.”
“Then why does he want tae see ye?” came a third voice, so thick with the Scottish accent that it took Joseph a moment to decipher what she was saying.
“Perhaps he wants to sort out the details of our arrangement, Ava,” Catriona stated. Joseph could almost picture her sitting with her back ramrod straight and a stern, displeased look on her face. “Or perhaps Uncle Frederic opposed the marriage.”
“Oh please,” came the first voice—Maisie. “You know Uncle would never oppose such a thing. He would give us all of England if that were what we wished.”
“Exactly, which means if you want this marriage, then he will not oppose,” Ava spoke again, this time in complete English. “And you do want this marriage. Who wouldn’t? His Grace is tall, handsome, brooding—”
“I fail to see why one being brooding would be an admirable quality,” Catriona mumbled.
“It only makes him less approachable,” Maisie explained. “Which makes him more appealing.”
There was a beat of silence and then… “That logic makes no sense.”
Joseph felt his lips curve upwards.
“Miss Wallace.” This was a male voice, likely the butler. To think they were having this conversation when he was still present. “Should I ask the Duke to leave?”
Catriona sighed so heavily it nearly rattled the walls. “No, I will see what he wants. Thank you, Francis.”
“Of course, Miss.”
Joseph stepped away, quickly moving back to the spot the butler had left him. Seconds later, the man appeared, his features pinched with disapproval, but Joseph hadn’t expected Catriona to be right on his heels.
“You’re still here,” she observed, her voice tinged with surprise.
“I am. I wished for us to go for a promenade.”
She blinked. “Why?”
Joseph frowned, a little taken aback by her bemusement. “So that we may spend time with each other. And so that others may see that we are courting.”
“Is that necessary in our case?”
For some reason, her questions bothered him. He hadn’t expected her to blush and accept immediately, but he certainly hadn’t expected this level of hesitation. Almost as if she did not care to be in his presence which grated his nerves.
“Yes,” he clipped.
She studied him for a moment then nodded. “Very well. Please allow me some time to fetch my parasol and bonnet.”
She walked away before he could respond.
Joseph watched her go, feeling warring emotions gather in the center of his chest. Lord Heaton had said that Catriona was frustratingly independent and that she always thought herself to be right.
He’d left out that she was also remarkably capable of making a man feel rather inconsequential.
Her heart was about to explode. It had to. That was the only logical outcome of her heart pounding so erratically against her chest.
All because of the man she walked beside.
It was her third time at Hyde Park since coming to London.
The first time was in the first week she’d arrived, and Ava and Maisie had begged Frederic to take them.
She’d enjoyed the fresh air and nature-filled surroundings but found herself desperately missing the quiet peace she enjoyed in Scotland.
There were too many people, a lively hum of chatter constantly buzzing in her ears.
The second time had been when Ava had dragged her to go horseback riding with her in Rotten Row.
But Catriona had never cared much for horses—and had only learned to ride because she thought it expected of her—so she’d never cared to go back.
Now here she was, returning to Hyde Park during a fashionable hour, on the arm of a handsome gentleman. And everyone was looking.
The Duke ambled along as if he didn’t notice the attention they were receiving.
Or he was simply so used to it that it didn’t bother him.
But Catriona was not used to his attention.
She’d been so convinced that she was meant to play a background role during the Season, only seen when she wished to be seen, that suddenly becoming the subject of everyone’s curiosity unnerved her.
“You seem tense,” the Duke observed suddenly, startling from her thoughts. “Are you uncomfortable being here with me?”
“Being here, yes,” she answered honestly. She tried not to look around too much, knowing that she was bound to catch the eye of a curious passer-by.
“Do you not enjoy walks in the park?”