With that, and nothing more, he walked out, leaving Clara feeling as if she knew him less now than she had the first time she’d met him.
Chapter 15
“Icannot believe he is goingthrough with it,” Quintina said to Gillian in the carriage on the way to the church. “What in the world did she say to him to prevent him from calling it off?”
Gillian gazed listlessly out the rain-soaked window. “Maybe she lied.”
“We can only hope. If she did, there might be a chance for an annulment. He could claim fraudulent misrepresentation or something of that nature.”
Gillian turned to her. “How do you know about that sort of thing, Auntie?”
Quintina’s eyes bored into Gillian’s. “I’ve been reading up on it, my dear, trying to find ways to shift things in our favor. The last time this happened, Henry—God rest his soul—had used an iron fist to stop Seger’s marriage, but I don’t have that option. Seger is the marquess now and he has an iron will of his own. We must be more conniving and move him to end it himself. Believe me, if there is any way to terminate this, I will find it. I am not one to give up hope.”
“But he is going to marry her today, Auntie. After that, there won’t be any hope.”
Quintina gazed at her niece, saw the pained look in her eye, and remembered the day Susan had died. A sickness had spread through her body, and for weeks leading up to the end, it caused her excruciating pain that made her writhe on the bed. Quintina had found it difficult to stay with her, for it was too horrific to watch. Grotesque, really. She had not been there when Susan died, though Susan, her twin, had asked for her repeatedly.
Quintina still felt guilty about that.
At least Gillian had been there at her mother’s side the entire time, waiting, praying, and hoping. She had been dutiful to the end.
There was such a desolate finality in death, Quintina thought as she watched her niece stare out the window at the passing traffic. No wonder the girl found it difficult to imagine happiness now.
Quintina squeezed Gillian’s hand. “Do not despair. This is happening very quickly, and a man who marries in haste often finds himself nursing regrets later on. Fortunately for us, Seger is not the type to worry about divorce scandals. I believe he would be the first to leap on an opportunity for freedom if he is not happy.” She leaned back and pulled on her gloves. “We must hope there won’t be any children right away. That would only complicate things.”
“What are you saying, Auntie?”
“I’m saying that even if he does marry the American today, it doesn’t mean he will remain married to her. I know, it sounds scandalous to even suggest that there should be a divorce in our family, but I cannot bear to see you hurt. You have been hurt enough, with your dear mother departing this world and your father nothing but a cruel brute, God rest his putrid soul. Your mother was my twin, and you are as precious to me as my own daughter. You deserve to get what you want, Gillian, and you have wanted Seger all your life.”
“I’ve more than wanted him, Auntie. I’ve loved him.” The carriage swayed back and forth and rumbled over the bumpy cobblestones. Gillian smiled at Quintina. “Do you remember when I was twelve, and I fell in the courtyard at Rawdon Manor and cut my knee?”
Quintina nodded, her heart squeezing with sympathy as she recalled that cloudy afternoon.
“I remember how badly it hurt and that I couldn’t get up, and I wanted to cry, but I couldn’t because I was afraid Father would find out. He always got so angry when I cried. Then Seger appeared out of nowhere and scooped me up in his arms and carried me inside. I buried my face in his coat collar, and he said, ‘Don’t worry, Gillian, I’ve got you. You’ll be fine,’ and I burst into tears. Nothing ever felt so good as to cry that day. My knee was throbbing, and all I could think about was how wonderful Seger was, saying to me, ‘There, there now,’ and rubbing his cheek against the top of my head.”
“Then he returned to check on you that afternoon,” Quintina added, encouraging Gillian to continue.
“Yes, and that’s when I fell in love. No one knows what he’s really like, Auntie. Not like I do. I know the real Seger. Society has always judged him wrongly and most unfairly.”
Quintina remembered that day very well. That’s when the seed had been planted, and it had grown into something far too substantial to be ripped from its roots now. Especially by an American.
Straightening her shoulders, Quintina spoke with fresh resolve. “This wedding is impulsive for both of them. There is room to maneuver and to manipulate the situation. We will all be living together in the same house very soon, and I for one will not simply hand the reins over to a vulgar, opportunistic foreigner. She has no heart invested in this marriage, while you have half of your lifetime invested in loving Seger, deeply and truly. It is not fair, and we will do what is necessary to find a way around this obstacle. You will have him. It won’t be difficult. With all that we know about that woman and her past, wewillfind a way to put an end to this.”
He should not be troubled, Seger told himself, as he spoke his marriage vows in front of the reverend and the small number of guests. Clara simply had a blemish in her past, which was nothing compared to the complete discoloration of his own tainted history. He should think of it as further proof that they were a good match. She was a kindred spirit, so to speak. She was by nature impulsive and somewhat rebellious toward social restrictions, even though, since her near brush with scandal, she had tried to walk the straight and narrow.
He had witnessed that wild impulsiveness in bed when she had pleaded with him to make love to her. He had given in and reveled in her passion.
So, what was the problem now? he wondered, resisting the urge to rub the tense muscles at the back of his neck. Why did he not feel elated on this day when he was securing a beautiful, spirited woman as his bedmate, and he was removing the cloud of duty that had hung over his head his entire life—the duty to marry and produce an heir and continue his line.
He should be relieved. He should feel that a great weight had lifted, but he did not. He felt only apprehension.
Perhaps it was because he was entering into a permanent relationship with a complicated woman, and he would have to deal not only with the problems of life, but with her resulting emotions.
He’d dealt with a problem that morning, and it had not been a pleasant discussion. He hadn’t enjoyed asking her those questions. He’d tried to be impartial, and had wanted the same from her in return, for he had only once let himself near a woman’s emotions, and in doing so, he had fallen in love. Then he had been devastated beyond words when it came to an end.
No, he said to himself as he slipped the ring on his bride’s slender finger. He should not feel apprehension or any other convoluted emotion. This was all very simple. Clara had made a mistake once, and almost married a swindler. She did not care for the man, and it was ancient history. He knew about it now, and he would very quickly forget that.
In fact, he should try to see this as a good thing. Clara’s secret had put some distance between them. They did not really know each other, and this morning that truth had been brightly illuminated.
