Chapter Six
It was done.
The wedding was brief and formal, featuring a few readings from the Church of England’s Book of Common Prayer. They then signed the church registry and began their journey to Bamford Park.
Duncan looked at his new bride, who sat across from him, gazing out the window. The carriage moved slowly because of the many ruts in the road. He figured he should say something. “We will stop at an inn soon, and tomorrow morning, we will continue our journey. Is that satisfactory?” he asked.
Augusta caught his gaze and smiled. “Yes. I imagined we would be staying at an inn since we left at two of the clock.”
“I am not one for a rushed journey or for changing horses. I prefer my own mounts. If we depart early tomorrow morning and make rest stops along the way, we should arrive at Bamford Park before nightfall. Of course, that depends on the weather and other factors. Another night at an inn may be prudent.”
“Your Grace—”
“I apologize for interrupting you, but we are married. Can we dispense with the formalities and at least call each other by name when we’re alone?”
She smiled warmly. “You are quite right, Duncan. Thank you for speaking to my parents the way you did. You were polite, yet firm. Do you intend to invite them to your residence?”
“At some point. Reese should know his grandparents. Your parents could have handled your situation better, scandal or not. Punishing you by ignoring you and your son for these past years was an insufferable thing to do. It is best to leave such mistakes in the past.”
“Including my grave mistake of running away with a married earl?”
“Yes, Augusta. Even that. Put it behind you. No one outside the family and a couple of others knows about it, so let it stay in your past.”
“I will endeavor to try. My parents paid a substantial sum to arrange this marriage, so I am thankful for that, at least.”
“That is true. They did assist you. The stipend I asked for? That money is yours. I will ensure the amount is set aside for your future use.”
Augusta gasped. “For me?”
“Yes. Rest assured, you and your son will be taken care of in my will. No more worrying about the future.”
Augusta smiled. “Thank you, I am most grateful. Putting the past behind us is sage advice.”
Duncan stared out the window at the passing scenery. “Just about everyone has done something society deems unforgivable, given how judgmental it can be.”
“Have you? Done something society considers unforgivable?” she asked softly.
“Yes. I did not die a hero, nor did I rescue my cousin, the heir to the dukedom. I had the temerity to survive, albeit scarred. And then to ultimately become the duke? Why, I had that planned all along. I allowed my cousin to perish so that I could eventually inherit.”
Augusta appeared astonished. “Society thinks that of you? How terrible!”
Duncan shrugged. “It is easy to ignore malicious chatter when secluded in the country, but it reached my ears, notwithstanding.”
“How did your injury occur?” Augusta asked.
Duncan’s stomach clenched, as it always did when reminded of his injury. It was part of his past, a painful memory he would rather forget. “It is difficult to talk about. I prefer that we discuss it another time,” he said gruffly.
Augusta continued to gaze out the window. “As you wish.”
She looked hurt, and Duncan had not intended that. In a gentler tone, he said, “Please understand that it’s rather traumatic to think about, let alone talk about. Besides, it is our wedding day, and I would like to avoid such a dire subject. I will tell you the tale soon. I promise.”
Augusta smiled again, and the warmth of it caused his heart to skip a beat. What a strange reaction.
“Of course. I am sorry if I seem out of sorts. All this happened so swiftly, I’ve hardly had time to process it. I’m also preoccupied about broaching a delicate subject with you.”
“The marriage consummation?”
Augusta blushed prettily. “That is part of it. Can we wait a few days until we arrive at your country home? I am not being missish. Oh, good heavens. I started my courses this morning.”
Good God. Delicate, indeed.
But, as he said, they were married. Duncan knew next to nothing about it.
His stepmother and stepsister had never mentioned it, and why would they?
He assumed a husband and wife would discuss it, given the intimacy involved.
He recalled that his stepmother had taken to her bed on occasion. “Are you in pain?”
“A slight ache in my temple. I often suffer from cramping, as well. I brought a prodigious amount of willow bark powder, because I do not care for laudanum. My, that was rather personal. But I want us to be straightforward with each other.”
“Just so. I agree. Are you warm enough? There are quilts in the box under my seat.”
“I would like a quilt. And perhaps the chance to rest my eyes for a bit.”
Duncan immediately leaped to his feet, opened the seat, and reached for the rose quilt. He also gathered a small pillow. “Here, lie down.” He handed her the pillow, then gently draped the quilt over her. “Sleep as long as you like.”
Augusta pulled the quilt up to her chin. “Thank you. You are most kind, and you have been, through this entire situation.” She sighed. “I received a reply to my letter yesterday. Miss Barry will be packed and ready by the time the carriage reaches them.”
“I’ll be sending McGloin.”
“The valet at the wedding?”
“I have promoted him to steward, and he will accept the position as soon as we arrive at Bamford Park.”
“Tell me about Bamford Park,” she asked sleepily.
Duncan sat on the opposite bench seat. “The estate is well-appointed. It is called a ‘park’ because it is surrounded by dense forests, filled with animals. But there are extensive gardens, well-manicured lawns, and shrubberies as well. The house sits on a small hill, with a lake below. In the rear, there are several acres for horses, cattle, and chickens. Do not worry, it is located far enough from the house that no odiferous farm aromas reach us. We have tenants working the land, and I aim to expand our operations. I’m aware this sort of pastoral aristocrat’s life will soon come to an end.
It’s not sustainable. The full weight of the industrial age will soon be upon us, with expanded water and steam power, mechanization, and—”
Augusta had fallen asleep.
Duncan stretched out his long legs, then pulled back the curtain to take in the scenery again.
It was overcast, with gray clouds that looked threatening.
In a way, he was glad the marriage’s consummation was temporarily delayed.
Augusta was an attractive woman with a tempting figure, which boosted his confidence about what was to come.
But this wasn’t a fling like the ones he’d enjoyed in his twenties and early thirties.
This was a lifelong commitment. Yes, he felt self-conscious about his appearance because of the scars on his shoulder, upper arm, and the left side of his face.
It was best to get her used to looking at him without his mask before they indulged in any deeper intimacy.
Many aristocratic marriages were arranged.
Duncan had never imagined he would be one of those choosing a spouse as if selecting a prized object.
He couldn’t recall much of his parents’ married life because they were rarely together.
Duncan suspected it was due to a settlement, since his mother was the daughter of a marquess.
But his father’s second marriage was entirely different.
He had married for love, and it had been obvious to Duncan that Laura and his father loved each other deeply and were true friends and partners. It was something to aspire to.
That was why he had never rushed into serious entanglements.
He’d held out for love. But all of that changed when he became a duke.
As he was reminded, Duncan had a duty to continue the line.
Gazing at a sleeping Augusta, he felt certain he had made the right choice.
And, if by Providence, they should fall in love, Duncan would welcome it.
But first, their budding friendship had to be nurtured so it could grow and deepen. If that was all he and Augusta had from their marriage, he would welcome that, too.
At least, he was no longer alone.
Augusta rubbed her eyes and sat upright.
Their arrival at the inn was announced by the blaring of horns and a flurry of activity.
Even though the sun had not quite set, candles lit the numerous windows of the busy inn.
A young boy rushed forward to grab the reins of carriage horses. “Heavens. How long was I asleep?”
“For close to three hours,” Duncan replied.
Granted, she hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before—probably nerves, she supposed—but waking up this morning to her courses!
And on her wedding day! Augusta could not believe her luck.
At least she and Duncan were able to discuss it without much fuss.
Southen always became flustered whenever Augusta tried to bring the subject up.
Southen. They had become strangers since Reese was born.
So, when she received word of his passing, she found it rather disturbing that she felt very little emotion at all, considering how much she’d loved him those first few years.
Augusta shook her head to dismiss the alarming thoughts as she felt her hair to ensure no pins had loosened during her nap.
Then she gazed out the window. Ostlers were busy changing horses on another carriage in the courtyard.
Briggs, Duncan’s coachman, and McGloin, his valet, were already giving orders regarding stabling the horses and which cases to bring inside.
Duncan assisted her out of the carriage, and they were quickly ushered into the bustling inn. The air was filled with lively conversation and general merriment, and the scent of pipe smoke mingled with the delicious aroma of cooked meat.