Hannah laughed – it had been the right decision to visit Sophia; she always knew how to lift Hannah’s spirits.
CHAPTER FOUR
As Hannah returned home from her visit with Sophia, she couldn’t shake the darkness that weighed upon her mind. Sophia had provided a much-needed levity but as Hannah’s coach had pulled away and the two friends waved through their respective windows at one another, it had hit Hannah once again that she may soon not be permitted such freedom. She hoped that it would still be her right to visit friends whenever the will took her, but she did know of ladies who disappeared from their preferred social scene once they took a husband. Some men could be possessive and wish their wives to stay at home for the majority of their days. Tears slipped into Hannah’s eyes as she considered the terrible impending loss of autonomy which could potentially be her fate.
This had bothered her the short journey back to her parent’s town-house and as she stepped down from the coach steps, she lowered her head, determined that nobody should notice her red-rimmed watery eyes. Ascending the concrete steps with some urgency, she had decided to request Lucy draw her a bath – she needed some alone time and wished only to soak in warmth with her thoughts.
Head down, bounding up the steps, Hannah had been quite unaware of the front door opening and the gentleman stepping down onto the top step as she arrived there. Suddenly, she impacted with the solid fabric of a suited chest – the shock of it sent her flailing backward and a panic rose desperately into her chest.
Then there were strong, large hands clutching at her upper arms and pulling her safely back to the step before her body was unbalanced and fell. Hannah looked up into a face she knew and yet before her mind had correctly placed the identity, she exhaled as an unfamiliar sensation hit her – a simultaneous reaction of feeling safe, of being thankful, of admiration for this person so tall, strong, and quite markedly handsome. Her breath left her body as she registered all these new feelings hitting all at once. As recognition set in, she realised with a jolt that it was the Duke.
For Caleb’s part, he had been quite surprised to see a lady scuttling so quickly toward him as he stepped out of the door and before he had a moment to call out, she had collided with him and the impact sent her scrambling backward. Caleb would not usually dare touch a lady without consent, but she was certain to fall should he not reach out – the concrete steps were steep and she would undoubtedly land far down on the pavement beyond which should be an impossible fall to endure without injury. His instincts had him reach out to grab her upper arms, which were slim and lithe – he pulled her back toward the top step and she was so light that he pulled her in closer than planned.
It was only when she looked up into his face that Caleb realised he was looking at his future wife. Her face was pale, with rosy flushed cheeks; her eyes wide and wet. She stared up at him with an innocence and honesty that had not been there the night before. As a demure debutante, her composure had been formal and reserved. There on those steps, she had not been expecting a collision; especially not so with the man she had just that day been advised she was to marry. In her unprepared state, Caleb saw a fiery authenticity in Hannah’s eyes that intrigued him.
It must only have been a fleeting moment, but Hannah felt as though Caleb looked into her eyes with such an intensity it must have been longer and Caleb could scarcely pull his eyes from searching her face.
Once she was upright, Caleb quickly removed his hands from her arms.
‘Lady Hannah – are you quite alright?’ Caleb asked, composing himself.
‘Thank you – I….yes,’ Hannah bobbed, embarrassed.
For one more passing moment, they simply stood looking at one another – aware that there was so much to say. Here they were; practical strangers who were on the precipice of committing their lives to one another, yet their nuptials had never featured in any conversation between them.
Finding the awkwardness excruciating, Hannah turned to the door and pushed her way in, without a further word to the Duke. As she passed, he noted her floral, sweet scent and as the door closed, he breathed in deeply.
As the door closed, Hannah leaned back against it, resting her head against the wood and taking a deep breath. There was the man causing her such consternation and threatening the world she currently inhabited. Yet he had just saved her from a certain nasty fall and she saw in his face a tenderness that he had successfully masked the previous evening.
Having regained her physical stability and having allowed her heart to calm, Hannah pushed away from the door to find Lucy and request a bath. However, as she did so, her Father’s steward approached and requested she attend the drawing room where her Father and Mother were keen to speak with her.
Instantly, Hannah’s heart lifted – surely the Duke had attended with second thought and decided they should not marry as they did not share compatibility.
Hannah knocked upon the drawing-room door and entered to find her parents sitting together on the long sofa.
‘Hannah, do come and sit,’ Vincent gestured to the armchair opposite the sofa.
Hannah perched herself upon the edge of the seat, poised to hear the happy news, that her day of anguish had been in vain and that her life should return to its conventional blithe design.
‘Daughter, the Duke of Montwood has visited me,’ Vincent began and Hannah noticed her mother dip her head sorrowfully.
Hannah simply nodded – she did not wish to disclose her collision with him on the steps.
‘He has advised that he will be meeting with the Archbishop of Canterbury to expedite your nuptials. There will therefore be no traditional reading of the banns and the wedding will be held by special license before the week is through.’
Hannah’s parents watched her face intently. This was not the news she had anticipated. She had not thought her predicament could be worsened, but here it was.
‘I do not understand….’ was all Hannah could mutter as her mind processed this new blow.
‘By the end of the week, you shall be the Duchess of Montwood, darling!’ Evelyn asserted cheerfully, though Hannah could see through the façade, her mother’s own disappointment and distress.
‘Will there be a wedding?’ Hannah asked tentatively, ‘or simply a ceremony?’
Vincent and Evelyn exchanged glances and Vincent responded.
‘A ceremony here, at home and a family meal to celebrate.’
Hannah gulped as she recalled her sister, Clara’s wedding. Clara had been terribly excited to marry Lord James Ashworth – it was a wonderful match.
