Anne sat back in the folds of the sofa. “He’s a very severe gentleman. I should like my gentleman to smile a good deal and not be so serious like the duke.” A long sigh slipped past Anne’s bow-shaped lips. “I could never despise anyone who would save you in such a heroic manner as the duke did. But beyond that, there seems little to recommend him.” She wrinkled her nose. “Though that is a very high recommendation.”
One time when Katherine and Anne had been girls of just seven or eight years, they’d been traipsing through the woods of their father’s estate. They’d come upon a red fox; its front leg had been caught in a snare, and hopelessly broken and bloodied. The creature’s lip had pulled back as it snapped and snarled.
Katherine bit the inside of her cheek to keep from explaining that Jasper was that scared, hurt fox. She loved her sister and trusted her implicitly but still could not betray Jasper’s privacy in telling of his past.
“You mustn’t wed him unless you wish to,” Anne continued. “It shan’t be easy with the holiday nearly upon us, but we must find someone to rescue you from both Mr. Ekstrom and the Duke of…”
“I asked him to marry me, Anne.”
Her quietly spoken words brought her sister up short. Anne’s eyes widened in her face, giving her the look of a night owl. She opened her mouth, but Katherine interrupted her.
“I could not wed Mr. Ekstrom, and the duke, he will be good to me. He will allow me my freedoms and…” Her words trailed off, because beyond that, she wasn’t altogether certain what type of marriage they would have. There certainly would be none of the grand love he’d known with his last wife.
Anne drummed her finger over the arm of the sofa. “I must say when I dreamed of the heart of a duke for the both of us, I had a far different vision than you married to that beas…er, gentleman,” she amended when Katherine shot her a reproachful look.
And, sitting there, if Katherine were being entirely truthful, even with just herself, she could admit that she too had longed for something more than a marriage of convenience.
~16~
When Katherine’s father, the Earl of Wakefield had died, a heavy pall hung like the thickest rain cloud upon their household. Shortly after she’d learned of his sudden death, she’d been seated in his office, perched on the edge of a leather winged-back chair, with the ormolu clock atop the fireplace mantle tick-tocking a steady beat. She still remembered the emptiness of that dark day.
Standing at the center of that same room, Katherine considered how very like that day was to this, her wedding day. She stole a sideways peek up at Jasper. Attired in his customary black jacket, black breeches, stark white waistcoat, and gleaming black Hessians, with his too-long black strands of hair shoved back behind his ears, he put Katherine in mind of that fallen angel Lucifer, cast from the gates of Heaven.
His shoulders stiffened, as if he felt her stare upon his person, but his gaze remained trained on the small vicar officiating the services.
Her gaze slid away, over to the spot her mother and Anne occupied upon the brown, Italian leather sofa. They sat, with like expressions of pained regret carved upon their faces.
“Madam,” Jasper bit out.
Katherine jumped, and heat flooded her cheeks as she realized the time had come to recite vows which would forever bind her to this dark, near stranger. Her mouth grew dry as the implications of this vow registered. In wedding Jasper, she’d forever be tied to him. The buried hopes she’d only just now acknowledged surfaced, with images of a gentleman who loved her and read poetry to her while their children played at their feet.
She sprung forward on her feet, feeling much like a bird poised for flight.
The gentleman alongside Jasper coughed into his hand.
Katherine looked at the Marquess of Guilford. He met her gaze and gave a gentle smile. Something in his eyes, a silent encouragement, the promise that she was not wrong in her decision this day, strengthened her resolve.
“I, Katherine Adamson…” She proceeded to recite the remainder of her vows.
Jasper frowned, and she wondered if he’d expected her to cry off. He clearly didn’t know she was a woman with too much honor to ever jilt her respective bridegroom.
Then, in the presence of her mother, sister, and the Marquess of Guilford, and in the absence of her brother, Benedict, sister Aldora and her husband, Michael, Lady Katherine Adamson became the Duchess of Bainbridge. She expected she should feel…something; a new bride’s excitement or jittery nervousness…not this…this…emptiness.
There was a flurry of signing required of her and Jasper, completed in silence. The only occasional utterances were spoken by the Marquess of Guilford to the vicar.