Chapter 3
Three
“Do you even know what your husband said to me when I asked him about this man?” Nelly’s distress was quiet but present all the same, even if she was slightly distracted by preparations.
She was to be married today. Just three weeks ago, Meg had floated the idea to her, and suddenly it was happening.
“I know he told you his name,” Meg replied pleasantly, not at all giving the situation the sort of gravity that Nelly thought it deserved.
Nelly scoffed. “He told me not to believe the rumors. Is that what he thinks of as comforting?”
“Quite possibly, yes,” Meg answered. “He likely would think that it’s a comfort to tell you in advance that any negative rumors are false.”
“If he had not said that, I would not have even known there were unfortunate rumors to begin with!” Nelly replied.
Meg paused for a moment before she resumed brushing Nelly’s hair. Jane and Amy were occupied with making sure her dress was sitting perfectly on her frame.
“That means you have not actually heard any unpleasant rumors about him, though,” Meg pointed out. “That’s good, isn’t it? Why the concern?”
“Where would I hear any rumors?” Nelly asked pointedly. “The fact that I have not heard any means rather little, considering I scarcely ever leave the house, lest someone spot me and have a negative thought. Mother and Father would surely combust as soon as it happened.”
Meg covered her mouth with the hand not currently holding a comb, muffling a laugh. “You must be nervous, to be so forward,” she remarked. “But truly, I trust Will’s judgment, and I have heard nothing about Erasmus. Did Will honestly tell you nothing beyond his name, though?”
Nelly hesitated before reluctantly admitting, “He said that the Duke of Ashford is a loyal friend, as well as a fierce fighter and a brave leader. You mentioned he was a military man when you first brought him up, so I suppose that makes sense.”
“The Navy,” Meg confirmed. “He was an admiral.”
“Beyond the fact that his name is Erasmus Russel and that William thinks he is quite honorable, I know very little of him,” Nelly concluded.
“William did not tell me if he was kind, if he has a heavy hand, if he likes a bit too much to drink. William did not tell me what I should actually expect.” She wanted to laugh, just a bit, but all that came out was a small, brief hum.
“He did not tell me much that is actually useful, though I don’t doubt that he meant well. ”
Meg hummed thoughtfully before she admitted, “I know fairly little of him myself. He only recently returned to the country, so I’ve not had time to meet him yet.”
That was another oddity, as far as Nelly was concerned, though she did not bring it up.
It had been three weeks since she agreed to the marriage, and she had not seen her betrothed once in that time.
Apparently, he needed the entire stretch of three weeks to prepare his estate.
Nelly was not certain how she felt about the fact that she would not be meeting her husband until moments before they said, ‘I do,’ but it was not a particularly positive feeling.
Throughout the entire conversation, Jane and Amy had been oddly quiet. Typically, they were chatty as anything, unless a task required all of their attention, but they were simply helping Nelly get dressed. Their silence may as well have been an admission that they knew something.
Nelly caught Jane’s eye in the mirror and said, “I suspect you’ve heard something about this man.”
“A bit,” Jane admitted sheepishly, while Amy turned away, busying herself by sorting through Nelly’s jewelry box.
“Care to share with the rest of us?” Meg asked wryly.
“Keep in mind, I’ve certainly never met the Duke of Ashford,” Jane hurried to point out, “but what I heard was that he left the country years ago, because he coveted his brother’s betrothed.
After his brother’s death, he tried to take her for himself, and it became such a problem that his father had to send him off to the Navy to keep the situation from getting worse. ”
Finally, Amy chimed in, adding, “he excelled in the Navy, but it also turned him into a monster, inside and out. I heard that he’s spent his entire absence just waiting for his father to pass so he can come back and finally steal away the woman he’s been yearning for, all these years.
The only reason he hasn’t tried is because she’s already remarried. ”
That’s certainly polite of him, respecting the foundations of marriage like that, Nelly reflected sardonically. Like a vampire, being warded off by a cross.
The room was quiet for a moment, before Meg finally snorted inelegantly and then laughed outright.
“He’s a duke, not some sort of banshee. That sounds ridiculous,” she scolded lightly.
Nelly had to agree, but she could not deny the fact that it had rattled her slightly.
William had made sure to tell her not to trust the rumors, so he had known about them.
And yet he had not elaborated. Had he simply not wanted her to worry?
Or had he been concerned that she would back out, if she heard about the rumors in advance?
“Will would never put Nelly in harm’s way,” Meg continued, once again returning the bulk of her attention to doing Nelly’s hair. “And we should know more than anyone that many rumors are just that.”
Nelly nodded along absentmindedly, distracted. She knew Meg was right about that, and she knew that William had good intentions. And, truth be told, she was not even concerned about how he might treat her. But she would not be able to bear it if he was cruel to Harriet.
Meg touched her shoulder, catching her eye in the mirror. “Are you having second thoughts?” she asked. There was no judgment in her tone, and Nelly was reminded again just how much she loved her sister.
She thought the matter over for a moment before replying.
“No. No, I am still doing this.” She would never trust William’s judgment as fearlessly as Meg did, simply by virtue of the fact that William was not her own husband. But she did trust him enough to know that he would not offer a bachelor who might be cruel to Harriet.
“I suppose this is just not what I expected my wedding day to be,” she sighed as Meg finished with her hair and stepped back. Meg assured her, “You look lovely.” Nelly scrutinized her reflection.
She had dreamed of her wedding as a child.
Once she met Lord Osborne, those dreams had very nearly become a reality, right up until he decided he could not be with her and he’d disappeared into the sunset.
The childhood visions had faded again into dreams after that, and she supposed that dreams would be where they remained.
She had no magnificent gown. Her dress was nice, but it was a far cry from what she had pictured as a child.
It was simply her Sunday best. There would be no grand reception.
There would be no crowd cheering for her and her happiness.
Unless the Duke of Ashford brought along guests that Nelly had not been made aware of yet, she was fairly sure that Harriet and her nanny, William, Meg, and their parents would be the only attendees.
Mother and Father will certainly be cheering, but more for the fact that I will, at last, be out of their hair.
“We should start heading to the church,” Meg said after a moment. “We have a bit of time left, if there’s anything else you need to do before we go, but it would be better to be a bit early than to be late.”
Nelly knew she was right, but the idea of being late to her own slap-dash wedding nearly made her laugh.
She would not begin her marriage with that sort of disrespect, though.
She curled one strand of hair beside her face around her finger briefly, smoothed down her skirt, and turned away from the mirror at last.
“I am ready to go,” she said. “Let’s go fetch Harriet and her nanny and call for a carriage. As it is, the sooner we leave, the less we have to worry about Harriet getting into some sort of mess and ruining her dress right before the wedding.”
It was a middling sort of day, once they were outside and climbing into the carriage. The sky was overcast with pearl–gray clouds, but it was not actually raining and it was not cool enough to require a wrap.
On one hand, Nelly could not help but find it almost funny, that her wedding day would be remarkable only for how ordinary it was.
On the other hand, though, she could not help but wish that something about it might stand out.
Whether it was something magnificent or horrendous, it seemed like it would have been fitting that there at least be something to mark the occasion.
How childish.
As with every other day, though, the one bright spot was Harriet.
She skipped up and down the church steps, pale pink skirt swirling about her legs, making up games of which Nelly could only hope to someday understand the rules and goals.
Every so often, she paused, staring down intently at her feet to make sure she had not scuffed her shoes before she went whirling off to think up a different game.
She had always been so good at keeping herself entertained.
It was a blessing, but it was yet another thing that left Nelly feeling as if she had failed.
Harriet had never had much choice but to keep herself entertained, after all. Philippa was her first friend, and only sort of; a two-year-old child could not hope to keep up with a six-year-old child.
Honestly, I can’t believe I thought running off to hide in the country alone might be good for her.
How was a young girl supposed to make any friends when the nearest neighbor may as well be in a different county?
Running away with Harriet would not have been what was best for her.
Had Nelly truly committed herself to that impulse, all she would have been doing was fashioning her daughter a larger cage.
Another carriage was slowing to a halt in front of the church, and a third was approaching on the street. It would be time to go inside soon. Nelly took a moment to take a deep breath, staring at the church doors as she did.
This is truly what’s best for Harriet.
Meg touched Nelly’s elbow, catching her attention. “Are you ready?” she asked, her voice hushed, as their parents climbed down from the second carriage, and the third drew to a halt.
“As ready as I can be,” Nelly assured her, before she began to make her way up the steps. She paused just outside the doors, letting the others go on ahead. Meg walked hand-in-hand with Harriet, making sure she behaved.
Nelly’s father stopped beside her, and they waited a moment longer to make sure everyone was seated, before Nelly took his arm and he began to walk her down the aisle.
“It’s quite a stroke of luck, really,” he said, his voice low so only Nelly could hear him. “Both of my daughters, married to dukes. You especially ought to be grateful, considering the circumstances.”
Nelly kept a pleasant smile on her face through sheer force of will. She had once dreamed about her father walking her down the aisle, but in that dream, he had not lectured her for the entire walk.
“I am aware of my own circumstances, Father,” she replied, her voice just as low. “I do not need to be reminded of them.”
Her father sighed. “Don’t be like that,” he replied. “I’m simply reminding you that not many men would be willing to do this, so don’t take it for granted. For Harriet’s sake, at least, remember what is at stake.”
Nelly supposed it was a good thing he was unaware of her brief plans to drag Harriet across the country and disappear.
“Of course,” Nelly assured him, her smile fixed firmly in place. He ushered her ahead as they reached the end of the aisle, taking his seat as she joined her husband-to-be.
The Duke of Ashford was dressed well enough, though not in an outfit Nelly would typically associate with a wedding.
That, at least, they had in common, though Nelly could still not quite bring herself to look at it as a good thing.
Nelly would admit that she wasn’t sure if men dreamed about their weddings quite as much as women seemed to, but he surely had ideas about what his wedding would be, and this had to match none of them.
He was a large man, which William had not mentioned—taller than Nelly by a large margin, certainly, with muscle still visible under his shirt.
For a second, she wondered what it would be like to trace the breadth of his shoulders, but she pushed the thought away.
They were in the middle of something, after all.
He had dark hair pulled back into a pigtail, thick enough that Nelly wondered how it would feel to get her hands in it—until she felt her face begin to warm and she resolutely dragged her thoughts back on topic.
She glanced at him, trying to gauge his expression to see if he had realized where her thoughts had gone.
It was then, as she searched his expression, that Nelly realized he looked strikingly familiar.
A single eye, such a dark shade of brown it was nearly black, was visible, as the other was hidden behind an eye patch. A scar pulled one corner of his mouth down, as if in a perpetual scowl.
Nelly remembered, suddenly, that argument in this very same church from three weeks ago.
She remembered, all at once, the encounter that had left her so flustered and bafflingly heated.
As she came to a halt beside him, she felt tiny in a way she rarely did, her form dwarfed by his in every way, and she could feel some of that same confusing heat returning as she stared up at him.
He looked down at her as he offered her his arm, the gesture distracted, as if he was simply assuming it was what he was supposed to do just then. Nelly took his arm, and marveled at how small her hand seemed as she wrapped it around his elbow.
He glanced away, but paused and looked back, and then he blinked and went very still for a moment. Slowly, his eyebrows rose, and Nelly realized that he was remembering who she was, too.
He did not pull his arm away, and Nelly took that as a good sign.
Partially she was certain she would be yanked right off of her feet if he moved too quickly, and partially because it most likely meant he didn’t object to her presence too much.
Based on what Jane had said before, Nelly was willing to guess that his prospects were nearly as limited as her own.
“In a church yet again?” he mused, sounding as if he was caught somewhere in the middle of a complicated mix of confusion, amusement, and irritation. “The third time will mark the beginning of a habit.