Chapter 7
“You do not think it is a bit much?” Harriet asked from behind a screen in her room as her maid helped her remove her wedding dress.
It was the day before her wedding to the Duke – no, Theodore - and Fiona, Louisa, Catherine and Harriet’s mother, Lady Devonmere, were gathered in her bedroom.
The weeks since she had agreed to his proposal had flown by in a blur.
She had seen her future husband only twice since she had accepted his proposal, both encounters brief and perfunctory, though they corresponded most days.
Usually about wedding details – things like the menu for the breakfast, confirming her guest list and how she would get to the church on the day.
He had told her that he was happy for her to arrange things like the flowers and the wedding breakfast without his approval,, but she had felt odd not involving him at least a little.
“Only you would worry about being too much on your wedding day.” Fiona laughed. “You are supposed to be the center of attention.”
Harriet emerged from behind the screen, straightening a crease in her day dress as she sat down on her chaise longue as Louisa and Fiona made a space for her. “I know, but… But what if people think I am trying too hard or something like that?”
“Then they will have to answer to us.” Louisa nudged Harriet playfully. “Besides, you are about to be a duchess – they will be tripping over themselves to win your favor.”
“Louisa is right.” Catherine nodded her agreement, wrinkling her nose slightly. “They may think unkind things, but to your face they will be unfailingly, sickeningly polite.”
“They are the same with me, and I am only the daughter of a duke.” Fiona grimaced. “You get used to the sycophants eventually but they are no less tiresome to deal with.”
Harriet thought of the way people crowded around Catherine after she had become a duchess and felt as though she might be sick. “I do not think I will have much time for socializing. My priority is to care for Phoebe. She is the reason for all of this after all.”
“So you keep saying.” Fiona exchanged a look with Louisa. “But I suspect his brooding good looks were not unappealing.”
“Far too serious for me, but I am glad he appeals to you.” Louisa nodded to Harriet.
Harriet rolled her eyes even as she twisted her fingers in the fabric of her dress. “You two are utterly ridiculous.”
“That is why you love us.” Fiona grinned and sipped on her glass of ratafia.
“I will admit, I had not expected Irondale to be quite so generous.” Louisa gestured to the suitcases stacked in a corner of the room.
“He is a traditionalist.” Harriet glanced at the suitcases, still uncomfortable with the volume she had purchased.
She had not planned to commission so much, but the modiste had told her that this was the sort of wardrobe one needed if they were to be only one step removed from royalty.
Harriet had spent days waking in the middle of the night, expecting Theodore to arrive at her house and accuse her of taking advantage of him. But he had not.
“Clearly, though not so traditional.” Catherine took a delicate bite of one of the biscuits. “He did insist you order at least three sets of riding attire.”
Harriet nodded, her eyes going to the letter she had received from him a fortnight ago. You will require more riding attire. Yours, Theodore Langford, Duke of Irondale.
She clapped a hand to her mouth as a thought struck her. “Oh goodness, the flowers! The bouquet, I –”
“- it is all in hand, Hettie. You have checked with the florist three times already. If you check again, I suspect she will quit.” Catherine gestured for Harriet to sit.
“Everything is perfectly in order. The food is arranged, the carriage will be here in the morning and Fi, Louisa and I will meet you at the church.”
Harriet ran a lock of her hair through her fingers, repeating the motion as she nodded.
“I just do not want to make a fool of myself. The church may be small, but that will not stop people from lining the streets. Do you remember what they were like when Lady Arabella wed Lord Simon? And he was only an earl.”
“All will be well. We will be right by your side.” Fiona gave her a reassuring smile. “We will not let anything happen to you, I promise.”
“The wedding will be over before you know it, and then you will get to retreat out of the spotlight. All you have to do tomorrow is be on time to the church and repeat after the priest. You do not even have to smile if you do not want to.” Louisa squeezed her hand.
Harriet felt a lump form in her throat as she continued to run her hair through her fingers over and over again. “I suppose I may as well get used to the attention.”
“You are going to be a duchess, it comes with the territory I am afraid.” Catherine gave her a wry smile. “But try not to dwell on it. Tomorrow, you will look radiant – every woman will wish she was you and every man will wish that you were his.”
“I suspect even Irondale will be moved by the way you look.” Fiona gave her a sidelong look, and Harriet felt her cheeks blush. “It will do him good to see just how lucky he is.”
Harriet gave a weak laugh and Louisa, Catherine, and Fiona all pulled her into a hug. “All you have to do is get through the ceremony and breakfast, and then you can get on with the rest of your life,” Fiona murmured into her ear.
“And Irondale is very near to Coldmere, so you can visit whenever you wish. Perhaps it would do Phoebe good to meet someone her own age?” Catherine said. “I am sure Oliver would not object to it.”
Harriet felt numb as she tried to think of what to say. Her mind kept replaying Fiona’s words. Get on with the rest of her life. A weight settled across her shoulders. What had she been thinking? She was marrying a stranger tomorrow.
She was dimly aware of her mother standing, smelled the lilac scent of her perfume as she felt a warm hand on her shoulder. “I think that is enough wedding talk – Harriet needs to rest before tomorrow.”
Her friends goodbyes washed over her as she fought to keep the smile on her face. When the door closed behind them, she began to pace, unable to keep still a moment longer.
“Harriet?” her mother’s voice made her jump.
“Oh!” Harriet clutched a hand to her chest. “Mama, I… I thought you left with the others.”
“I could see you were getting overwhelmed earlier, and I wanted to make sure you were all right.” Her mother perched on the end of Harriet’s bed and gently patted a spot beside her. “Sit with me a moment.”
“I do not think I can.” Harriet swallowed, the lump in her throat swelling to twice the size of before. “I feel like I can hardly breathe. I keep fretting that I have forgotten something or that there is something I am not remembering or thinking about. Am I making the right decision?”
“Only time will tell, darling.” Her mother followed her movement as Harriet continued to pace. “And it is normal to feel a little jittery before one’s wedding. The day before I married your father, I woke up in cold sweats thinking I had mixed up the dates and slept through the entire affair.”
That stopped Harriet in her tracks. “But you and father always seem so sure of each other, so in love.”
“We are, but that did not mean I was not nervous.” Harriet’s mother gave her a warm smile that undid the knot in her shoulders.
“Marriage is an enormous decision, a life changing one, only a madwoman would not be a little worried about it. And so long as you do not do what your Aunt Anne did, we should all be fine.”
Harriet laughed. “I do not think I have the strength to rip my wedding dress, let alone tear the thing from my body and run screaming, nearly naked from the church.”
“And yet even she is happily married now. Though it did take three attempts.” Her mother sighed. “I hope your wedding will be less dramatic.”
“So do I.” Harriet plopped down beside her mother. “It feels like there is so much more I should know. He wants me to be a mother to his niece but I do not know the first thing about motherhood.”
“Darling, none of us do. We are all just muddling along, hoping we get it right.” Her mother leaned forward and added, in a conspiratorial whisper. “So long as you treat her with kindness and compassion, and patience to spare, you will do wonderfully.”
“I wish I shared your faith.” Why does everyone seem so convinced I can do this when I am not? Harriet kept the thought to herself, tracing her fingers along the stitching on her quilt. “None of this is what I expected.”
“I know.” Her mother took her hand in hers, and rubbed small circles against her knuckles, calming Harriet as she had when she was young. “It is unusual, but he is a duke and though he may not be what any of us imagined, he does not seem unkind. Your father was rather impressed with him.”
“I just… I feel as though there has been a great weight thrust upon me, and I worry that I will crumble beneath it. No, that is not quite right. It is more… It is like…. I am supposed to be a wife, to be a mother to a child who has lost her own and to be a duchess. How do I do all of that?”
Her mother stiffened beside her, and to Harriet’s confusion she saw her cheeks turn red. “Ah… Well… I suppose such conversations are a mother’s duty.”
Harriet frowned as her mother cleared her throat and stood up. “It is usual to um… fumble one’s way through intimacy. At least at first. Though men are usually given to… Well, you will not have to figure things out unaided.”
“Some men perhaps, I doubt Theodore will be much use.” Harriet shook her head.
“I just do not understand him. He is cold, distant and yet clearly he adores his niece. And when he asked me to marry him, he genuinely gave me the choice. It feels mad, but I truly believe he would have accepted my word if I had rejected him.”
“Do you wish you had?” Her mother asked quietly.
“No.” The answer surprised Harriet, and she twirled her hair round her finger as she pondered it. “I was too curious to decline his offer. I think if he had tried to bully me into it, I might have felt differently. But he did not. And yet…”
Harriet stood and moved to the window, her heart beating faster and faster. “I… What if…” The lump was back in her throat, beating in time with her racing heart. “What if the woman he sees when he looks at me is not the woman I am? What if he sees not Harriet, but a duchess, a mother.”
She could see days stretching before her, the long, dark hall of Irondale surrounding her. Empty save for her footsteps. “I am supposed to offer comfort to a little lost girl but… but I do not want to lose myself as well.”
She felt a tear roll down her cheek and leaned her head against the cool glass of the window. The sound of footsteps told her that her mother was moving, and a moment later, she felt her mother gently turn her to her.
“I am so used to fading into the background, Mama, to escaping notice…” What if I am invisible in my own marriage? She could not make herself say the words, it would make them too real.
Her green eyes flashed in the flickering candlelight, full of a quiet intensity and determination. “Then you must let yourself shine, my darling girl.”
“I do not know how.” Harriet whispered.
“Then I shall tell you a secret.” Her mother drew herself up to her full height, every bit as regal as the Queen. “When you walk into a room, do not try and command the attention of everyone. That is overwhelming, and no one can manage such a thing.”
Harriet arched an eyebrow at her. “You do. Everywhere we go, people are drawn to you.”
“That does not mean I am trying to command all of their attention at once. I focus on one person, and one person alone.” She held up a single elegant finger to demonstrate.
“That person is the one I want to see me, but more than that, I pretend they are the only person in the room. Everyone else ceases to exist, and so the room becomes mine. It becomes ours.”
“But I do not understand.” Harriet wiped a tear from her face. “Why would that make anyone want to look at you?”
“People want what they cannot have, Harriet. Remember that.” Her mother dabbed at her cheeks with a handkerchief. “All you have to do is decide who you want to see you.”
Her mother’s words played in Harriet’s mind all through the night, and the morning. She ruminated on them as she was dressed. They echoed around her head as she tried, and failed, to eat.
It is easy for her to say that. Lady Devonmere was one of the most artfully graceful and elegant women Harriet knew. One could not help but look at her and want to be near her.
Yet as she drew up to the church in her carriage pulled by four white horses, and was met with a wall of cheering and whistling as the commoners gathered to celebrate her marriage, she could not help but wonder if her mother’s trick might work for her.
“Are you ready?” Catherine whispered, handing her a bouquet as they moved towards the door.
Harriet did not trust herself to speak, she simply gestured to the door and hoped Catherine would understand. She saw Fiona and Louisa helping each other with their dresses. She felt her father take her arm in his.
“It is time.”
The door to the church swung open, sunlight streamed through the stained glass windows as every head in the room turned to look at Harriet.
Her legs felt as though they were made of lead. She moved forwards, feeling herself shrink into her father, his grip tightening reassuringly.
You must let yourself shine. She saw her mother waiting for her in the front pew, her friends, her eyes drifted across them. Choose one person.
Dark blue eyes found hers. Theodore stood tall and proud, looking otherworldly as the dappled light shone on him. He was wearing a perfectly tailored set of tails that only drew attention to his powerful build.
Her mouth went dry. She focused on him like a lighthouse in the storm. Perhaps it was her imagination, but it felt like she was the only person he could see.
His eyes pulled her towards him like magnets. There was no one else in the room but them. Her mother’s trick was working. It was just her and Theodore in the aisle.
She knew it was just a fantasy, that the dark hunger she saw was just a projection. She told herself it was just in her imagination, but her body did not believe her mind.
It felt his gaze upon her like a physical touch, and by the time she had reached him at the altar, she was covered in gooseflesh. She drew level with him, and it felt as though a band had wrapped itself around them, tightening so much that she could scarcely breathe.
“Dearly beloved…” The priests voice broke the spell, and Harriet blinked, unsure if she was relieved or disappointed.