Chapter Seventeen
Lisbeth entered the tiny church hidden by larger buildings in the London area of Piccadilly.
She’d been quite surprised to see the older structure in an area where so much new development was occurring.
The walls were made of ancient stone. She ran her hands along one side of it, suspecting this place dated back to the Roman period.
“It is a beautiful space, Your Grace,” the bishop said, entering from a side door.
She smiled. “It’s lovely. I was wondering if it dates back to Roman times.”
The older man nodded. “It does. Dozens of buildings have been built around the church, but luckily, no one has tried to remove it.”
“I’m glad,” she said. The uniqueness of this building had taken away the melancholy of her impending wedding.
The bishop frowned at her. “Are you sure you wish to wed, Your Grace?”
Her eyes flew to his face, and he added, “My leadership indicated this was a rushed request, and your future husband had asked for a discreet location.”
She wanted to confess that she didn’t want to marry, but didn’t think it mattered.
The determination and anger in Thomas’s eyes yesterday left no room for debate.
She swallowed the lump forming in her throat, wishing that all of this could have happened differently.
Lisbeth should have told Thomas about Alice in Syria.
Yesterday, she sat down with Alice and Jeremy, telling them that she was to be married.
Jeremy had been intrigued, and her daughter furious.
Her chest ached because Alice had always been close to Nicholas.
Her revelation about her imminent marriage to Thomas hadn’t gone over well.
Lisbeth suspected that more difficult roads lay ahead in establishing a relationship between Thomas and Alice.
“My betrothed likes ancient things. That is why I picked this church,” Thomas said from the entryway of the building.
Her stomach dipped because even though he looked messy and disreputable, the man was still breathtaking.
She wondered if he’d slept at all last night.
Another man bumped into him. He laughed.
Stepping aside, the other man, also looking rumpled, stepped in, followed by a more studious-looking person.
“Here are my two witnesses, Father. Mr. Matthison and my solicitor, Mr. Green.”
The bishop’s lips pinched in disapproval.
Lisbeth suspected they were thinking the same thing.
These men had spent the evening enjoying vice a little too much.
Her heart clenched, wondering if women were involved.
She pushed the thoughts from her mind. It didn’t matter.
They weren’t marrying because they cared about each other.
He’d loved you once, her heart whispered to her.
Still, that wasn’t why they were here. Lisbeth was marrying Thomas because of his threat.
Anger coursed through her that it had all come to this.
The man who was in London wasn’t the boy she left in Tuscany all those years ago, nor the man she said goodbye to in Syria.
He was angry and hurt, and Lisbeth didn’t know how to fix it, but doubted their wedding would improve anything.
Thomas and Matthison laughed about something, and the bishop skewered them with a glare. They immediately quieted. The bishop leaned closer to Lisbeth. “Are you sure, Your Grace?”
She glanced at Thomas, who watched her intently.
Even after she’d married Nicholas, she’d fantasized about being his wife and raising their children together.
None of those fantasies had ever come close to this debacle, but she didn’t have a choice.
Maybe they would find a way to be happy again.
Skepticism filled her. Yet, she suspected without this marriage, there was no healing.
Still, it pained her that this wasn’t one forged on love but hatred.
It would be the second marriage foisted upon her.
She forced herself to smile. “Yes, Father, it is my choice.”
Thomas made his way to the front of the church. He smelled of smoke and liquor. Her soon-to-be husband had been out getting foxed while she laid in bed a bundle of nerves. Frustration flared in Lisbeth, but she kept it tamped down.
“Shall we begin, or do we want to have you leave and come back in?” the bishop asked Lisbeth.
She shook her head. “I think we can simply start.”
The bishop began the farce of a ceremony that Lisbeth was still struggling to believe was hers. In all honesty and fortunately, it passed in a blur until the bishop said, “You may bestow a kiss on your bride.”
Lisbeth’s gaze flicked to his. A coldness emanated from him, and she suspected he would hate her forever. Thomas’s friend, Matthison, whistled, “Kiss her, Easton.”
The bishop cringed at his obnoxiousness. Thomas quickly brushed his lips across hers. It was the briefest of touches, and it broke Lisbeth’s heart. Any fantasy she’d had about marrying Thomas had always ended in a spectacular kiss. This is reality, she reminded herself, not a dream.
Thomas turned to his friend and solicitor. “Thank you for your assistance today. We will be on our way.”
He held his hand out to her, and she took it, but no warmth existed between them. They both thanked the bishop and walked out of the church directly to a carriage. Once inside, Lisbeth asked, “Where shall we go now?”
“Home.”
He meant her townhouse. Nerves filled her. “I told the children yesterday that we were getting married. Alice didn’t take it well. Perhaps you could gradually move in.”
“No, you’ve denied me my child long enough.”
There was so much pain etched on his face. She’d been the cause of that. “I’m sorry, Thomas. Truly, I am, but I think if you heard me out, you would see that I didn’t—”
“I don’t want to hear any of it,” he said harshly. “You made your choice, and I have made mine.”
Lisbeth didn’t want to argue. “I told the children we’d be arriving today. Jeremy reads your serials and is excited to meet you. Alice has a love of history, and I think, eventually, she will come around. Please treat their feelings gently. Their father has only been gone for three years.”
He scowled at the mention of Nicholas. They needed to have an open and honest conversation. “I think we need to talk.”
Thomas shook his head. “I’m not interested, duchess.”
She flinched at his new nickname for her and remained silent. Sadness and guilt coursed through her, but fury at his behavior was starting to build. This man sitting across from her wasn’t the Thomas she knew. He was being an ass.
*
Thomas stepped into the foyer of Lisbeth’s townhouse. The staff had curtsied and fawned over her as they entered. The entryway was extravagant but not gaudy. It very much suited the lady. She took a deep breath and nodded as the butler whispered something to her.
Turning to him, she said, “The children are in the drawing room. I think it is best if we do an introduction now.”
His heart hammered. Thomas would meet his daughter. He couldn’t form any words and simply nodded jerkily. She said, “Follow me, please.”
They walked down the wide hallway before stepping into a room. A girl of eleven and a younger boy sat on a sofa and a chair, reading. The boy looked up and smiled, “You are home.”
Lisbeth smiled. “Yes, I wanted to do introductions. Alice and Jeremy, this is Thomas Easton, my new husband.”
The girl slammed her book shut and glowered at him. His heart broke slightly because the fiery eyes were so much like his. He was looking at a reflection of himself—well, his younger self anyway.
He smiled. “Hello, Alice and Jeremy.”
The boy slid off the sofa. “I’m reading a serial about when you discovered a statue on the island of Sardinia.”
“I remember that. We had to deal with an awful storm while we were there. It was quite the adventure.”
Alice snorted. “Everyone knows those serials are an exaggeration.”
“Alice,” Lisbeth warned.
Thomas knew this would take time, and for the first time, he rationally comprehended how his demand that they marry might not have been wise. Still, it was too late now. “I would love to share the real details of my adventures with both of you.”
Jeremy nodded excitedly, but Alice shrugged. Still, she hadn’t said no. Lisbeth explained, “Both the children love history and artifacts.”
“We have a room here of antiquities from across the world and a room at our country estate of ones found on the grounds there. Would you like to see the room?” Jeremy asked excitedly.
Thomas nodded. Alice jumped up. “I think I will go to my room.”
She stomped out, slamming the door behind her. Lisbeth frowned and rose. He shook his head; he didn’t want Lisbeth to scold her. Jeremy bounced on the balls of his feet excitedly.
“Lead the way, Jeremy.”
Most of Lisbeth’s house contained antiquities, but when Jeremy opened the door to the space that he wanted him to see, Thomas was shocked.
The room was twice the height of most rooms and featured a second-floor walkway that overlooked the first floor.
Shelves lined all the walls, and they were filled with a variety of relics.
He glanced at Lisbeth, surprised. Thomas figured she’d given up her love of all things old, but no, she’d become a collector. He suspected that her private collections surpassed those of most museums and clubs. “This is quite stunning.”
“Mother acquired all these. Father said she was obsessed.”
Lisbeth flushed. “My husband—Nicholas, was very supportive of my hobby.”
“I see that,” Thomas murmured. Envy flared in him, imagining the conversations they had.
Being in this townhouse suddenly felt like all too much.
It was late afternoon. He needed to settle up with the hotel and attend to some other matters.
In truth, he just needed some air from this space and the past. “I have an appointment, so I must depart.”
Jeremy nodded. “Maybe when you return or tomorrow, we can talk about Sardinia.”
Thomas forced himself to smile. “I promise.”
He practically fled from the room and quickly headed to the door. Footsteps followed him, and he looked back to see Lisbeth coming towards him. Harshly, he asked, “What is it?”
“Where are you going? Will you return?”
He felt smothered here. “That isn’t your concern.”
She bristled. “I’m your wife.”
Thomas leaned forward so only she could hear him, “Only because it allows me to be near my child.”
She wore a pained expression. “I will have the bedchamber connected to mine prepared for you.”
“Was that the duke’s?”
Lisbeth nodded, and he shook his head. “Prepare a guest chamber for me.”
“Thomas, can we please talk?”
He didn’t let her say anything else but yanked the door open, escaping her and everything that he’d lost because of choices that were made outside of his control. Thomas would never allow that to happen again.