Chapter 5
LUCIEN
“You are to be wed!” Mrs. Greaves said and clapped her hands together. “Goodness gracious, my lord! I am quite in awe! What wonderful news! I did not think you would listen to me. Who is she?”
Lucien rubbed his temple, having been entirely unprepared for the rapturous response of his housekeeper.
“Lady Marianne Langley. She is the daughter of the late Earl of Lowey.”
“One of the Langleys? Upon my word! Quite the reputation they have—quite the catch, my lord! If her sisters are anything to go by, I can only imagine that this household will change rather.”
“Change?” Lucien said, his eyes growing wide. Marianne had not exactly struck him as someone who was going to bring major changes to his house.
“Yes, well, the oldest one, the Duchess of Sinclair, started a ladies’ society. They were among those who had been trying to make life better for the climbing boys. And her sister, the Duchess of Ravenscar, of course, started several schools.”
He nodded. He was well aware of Rhys’s wife’s philanthropic endeavors, and those of her sister, but he had never paid them too much mind.
In fact, when he met with Rhys, it was generally just with him.
Charlotte was hardly ever there. She seemed to always have an engagement here, there, and everywhere.
In fact, both she and Rhys seemed to have lives that were always busy.
But Marianne had not appeared to enjoy that sort of hectic social life.
She struck him as quieter, seeking exactly what he sought. Could it be that she had a wild side to her, also? One that had just not awakened yet? His stomach tensed. He hoped not. The reason he had proposed to her was that he thought that she was like him—indifferent to society’s wants and needs.
“Lady Marianne is a rather quiet, young lady with a most retiring disposition. She stayed at the convent for several months, seeking to get away from all of this.”
“I see,” Mrs. Greaves said. “Well then, perhaps things will not change here after all. Although I am certain young Master Henry shall be ever so excited to have a mother once more.”
“She is not his mother. And she will not be. And I will not encourage him to call her so. She and I have an arrangement. We each seek something out of this marriage. She will be someone who will live with us, but she will not be Henry’s mother.
And I would encourage you not to refer to her as such. ”
The woman’s face fell. “But the purpose of the marriage truly is to provide Master Henry with a—”
“It is to provide me with a wife in name. I am certain she will be kind and gentle and a good friend to him, but not a mother. I do not expect it. I do not even know if she is particularly fond of children.”
Mrs. Greaves gasped. “But surely she is. She is a woman, after all.”
“I would venture to say that not all women wish to be mothers,” he said, aware that he was going to shock her sensibilities even more with his exceedingly modern approach. “You have none.”
“But I have you. All the motherly pleasures without the strain,” she said, and he chuckled.
“That is true. And I suppose that is what Marianne shall have—all the pleasures of having a child like Henry in her life without any of the obligations. I do trust that you will help her find her way when she arrives.”
“Of course. I shall prepare the Countess’s chambers for her. When is the wedding?”
“I am uncertain,” he said. “Within the month, I believe. I have only just proposed to her and spoken to her aunt. I shall have to meet with Rhys and the Duke of Sinclair to discuss the settlements, the dowry, and the jointure.”
“And then you will have to prepare Henry.”
Henry... He thought of his son and hoped that he would not be too confused by the arrival of a new woman in their lives. He certainly did not want him to call her mother. But she had made it clear she did not wish to be known as such.
“Where is Henry?”
“Outside in the garden with Miss Harvey,” she said. He nodded and made his way outside, where his son was playing with wooden blocks, building a tower while his governess sat beside him on a blanket and smiled.
“My lord,” she said, and rose, curtsying deeply. “Do you wish for time alone with your son?”
“I would be grateful for it,” he said.
The governess left then, and Henry got up.
“Papa, look at the blocks! Look how high they go.” He clapped his hands together and jumped up, although as he did, his knee brushed against the tower of blocks he had made, and it came crumbling to the ground.
Immediately, his eyes grew wide, and his chin wobbled, tears spilling from his eyes. “I broke it,” he said. “Broke it!”
“It is all right,” Lucien said, lifting the little boy up into his arms. “We can rebuild it together. No need for taking on so.”
“But I wanted to show you. I wanted to show you I could do it on my own.”
“Very well. How about I sit down here next to you, and you rebuild it, while I watch? That way, you can show me that you can not only do it on your own, but you can show me how.”
The boy ran his sleeve over his tear-stained cheeks and nodded. Before he could turn back to his work, Lucien pulled out a handkerchief, pushed it against his son’s nose, and helped him blow.
“There we are,” he said. “Now show me.” Henry started building his block tower again, and Lucien refrained from advising him to put more blocks behind to give it a little more stability, because he wanted his son to truly feel as though he could do it on his own.
As he did, he lay on his side, his head propped up on his hand as his son worked.
“Do you know, Henry, there is something I have to tell you. There is a young lady who will come to live with us soon.”
Henry did not reply immediately, focused on the work in front of him. “Yes? A new housemaid?”
“No,” Lucien corrected. “She is a woman who is a friend of mine, and she will come and live with us here in the house. People will call her my wife.”
This got the boy’s attention. “Your wife? Like my mama?”
“No,” Lucien said and pushed himself up so he could sit cross-legged. “She will not be your mama. She will be my friend who lives with us.”
“Will she play with me?” he asked.
“Perhaps,” Lucien said. “I am uncertain. I shall speak to her about it. She is a very kind young woman, and you will like her, and I am certain she will wish to play with you every now and again. But you must understand that I am your father, but she is not your mother. She is merely a friend who lives with us.”
“But why do you marry her?”
Lucien scratched his temple. He did not really know how to explain this to his son. Why was he going to marry her? “Well, you see, sometimes grown-ups have to do certain things that are difficult to explain. It is good for her, and it is good for me, and good for you.”
“I see,” Henry said. He turned his attention back to his blocks. “As long as she likes blocks,” he said.
Lucien chuckled. Sometimes he longed for the simple days of childhood, when one still lacked understanding of the real world.
But as it was, he was grateful Henry was taking the news as easily as he was.
He spent the rest of the afternoon playing with him in the garden.
Once the block tower had been rebuilt, the two walked down to the lake to feed the ducks.
Then they surprised the cook downstairs in the kitchen with their desire to help prepare the evening meal, and then the two of them ate in the sunroom overlooking the park.
Come evening, he returned to his chamber and stood at the window.
Soon, it would not just be the two of them anymore.
Someone else would be here. How would Marianne fit into the family?
He knew that it would only be a temporary arrangement, but he still had to wonder what the future might look like.
He knew that she was not interested in Henry, and he had prepared the boy to see the woman as only a friend, but she would live in their home.
Dine with them. Go on outings with them.
Sooner or later, she would interact with Henry, and he only wished that the decision he had made for the good of his personal freedom would not negatively affect his little boy.
“Lucien? You are going to marry Lucien?” Charlotte said, her mouth falling open as though she had just declared herself Queen of France. “Upon my word, have you run mad?”
“Yes, I shall marry him. And no. I have not gone mad. He proposed to me, and I said yes.”
“But you do not know him in the ordinary way,” Evelyn said, as perplexed as Charlotte was. “You have lost your senses entirely.”
“I know that he is being set upon by society to marry again, even though he does not wish to. I know that he understands that I do not want to be married and to be forced into this role society has designed for me, either. Together, we will escape it all. We have come to an understanding.”
“How?” Charlotte said. “You are going to get married and pretend to be married for a time and then part ways?”
“Yes,” Marianne said. “I am going to return to the convent, or perhaps I will do something else—go someplace else. I may yet find other ways to enjoy my freedom. But I do know that I will not return to London. I will not return to society. I will not go to any more dances or dinners after this arrangement with him is over.”
“But until then, he will—?” Evelyn asked.
“Yes,” Marianne said. “We must convince everybody that our marriage is real—that we have come to an understanding and married for the usual reasons. As soon as the ton becomes occupied with somebody else’s personal life, we shall quietly part ways.
He will continue to raise his son on his own, and I will do as I please. ”
“You cannot mean it,” Charlotte said. “And he cannot mean it. What a silly idea. He needs to get married to a woman who can help raise little Henry. Henry needs a mother.”
Marianne shifted slightly, uncomfortable now. “He assured me he does not need me to be a mother. He is perfectly capable of raising his son on his own. It is this attitude, Charlotte, that has made him want to make this arrangement in the first place—the constant pressure. I understand it well.”
Evelyn looked at her sister, head tilted to one side. “I think this is a mistake. What if you fall for him? What if he falls for you?”
Marianne shook her head, a stray curl bouncing off her chin. “That shall not happen. We feel nothing for one another other than gratitude for the opportunity to escape our obligations. I shall be free. He shall be free. Neither one of us is going to complicate matters by falling in love.”
“Even so,” Charlotte replied, “do you not think it is cruel? You are robbing Lucien of a chance to find a woman who will love him and who will love Henry, only so that you can escape what you deem society’s constraints.”
Marianne paused. She had not thought about this.
But if he really wanted to find a woman again, what if it was simply too early for him?
Perhaps he still grieved his wife and was not ready to marry again, but in a few years, he would?
But no. This had been his idea. She had to take him at face value.
“If he ever wishes to, then we shall seek a—”
“Divorce?” her sisters gasped in unison.
“But that would be a scandal!” Evelyn cried.
“And? This family has been through more than one scandal. Father left our reputation in tatters as it was. Evelyn, your first husband died on your wedding day, and he was old enough to be your great-grandfather. That was a scandal. And Charlotte, shall I remind you of the way you came to marry Rhys?”
Charlotte looked away. They all remembered that upon being told she was to marry a most unsuitable rake, she had made a spectacle of herself in one of London’s grand ballrooms, wearing a scarlet gown and declaring herself utterly unwilling to marry her intended.
She and Rhys, who had undergone a scandal of his own, had made a marriage of convenience as well—though they had fallen in love.
“That is something different,” Charlotte said. “I was saving myself from a wretched marriage. And Rhys was saving himself from scandal.”
“And Lucien and I are saving ourselves from a future neither of us wants,” she insisted.
“Besides, it shall be wonderful. He will have his freedom. I will have my freedom. And my friend Juliet will join me.”
“Juliet? Your friend from the convent?” Evelyn asked.
“Yes. I have written to her and invited her to become my lady’s maid.”
“With no qualifications?” Evelyn said.
“I have no qualifications to be a countess either. In any case, you ought to be happy for me. After Father died, his title went to Cousin Morris in Dover—I am not even an earl’s daughter anymore, not in the eyes of society. I am not as desirable as I might have been before Father’s death.”
“Is that why you are marrying him? Marianne, you are the sister of two duchesses. Of course, you are desirable.”
She waved her hand. “I do not wish to argue with both of you any further. It is arranged. Now, perhaps over the next few weeks, you could help me put together my wedding trousseau. But I do not want anything too fanciful. Once this marriage is over, I think I shall travel. I shall take Juliet and travel the world. So I shall need attire that is suitable for that as well.”
Her sisters stared at her as though she had quite lost her mind, and as Marianne leaned back, a satisfied smile on her lips, she could not deny that in the back of her head, there were some things she was worried about.
The way she had felt when Lucien first looked at her.
And when they had shaken hands, there had been something.
Warm... something like a jolt. What if they were right? What if she fell in love with him?
No, no, no—she could not even entertain such thoughts. That would be foolish.
No—the arrangement was solid. A few months of pretending to be happily married, and then she would be free at last.