The word evoked images of the man from the park. If only he were someone as handsome as he was, but without the rudeness. A face like his made it almost easier to bear the thought of being married off to a stranger.
“He is a duke, Madeline!” Lady Marlow insisted, her voice turning desperate. “He is one of the wealthiest men in England, and with a title that gives him even more power with his wealth. We need his power. After all, your father has pushed us to the edge of the abyss once more. The papers are mocking us, as we are related to the man who floated in the Thames! Theydescribed him as miserable and smelling of gin.”
Madeline flinched. In this family, she was the one who was all too ready to defend their father, but this time, she could not find the words.
“Cathy should have left him in his self-exile,” her grandmama continued. Her shoulders shook in frustration. “After his debts were paid, Harleigh has been accumulating new ones. We are now being snubbed by every hostess in London. We have not been invited to balls and other social events in weeks.”
“That much is true, but I would rather stay in the library, anyway,” Portia confirmed. “Though even the vicar’s wife ignored me at the market yesterday.”
“This does not mean I need to deceive a duke and marry him to my advantage!” Madeline’s composure nearly slipped.
“Madeline, please! Think of Selina,” the baroness gestured to the youngest Quinten. “It is her debut Season. Who will want to dance with her if we are still looked upon as scum? She will be ruined before her Season has even begun.”
Madeline wanted to argue. She turned her attention to her youngest sister, the family’s beauty. Selina’s eyes were brimming with sparkling tears.
“I will not let that happen to Selina,” Madeline insisted. “I can work.”
“Work? Doing what? What you do not understand is that the social repercussions outweigh the financial, and we barely have money. You are a gentleman’s daughter, a baron’s granddaughter. Your only currency is marriage. Working will only make it worse for your younger sisters. They will talk aboutour disgrace and poverty even more.”
“Is this duke a bore?” Lord Marlow asked. “Most of them are. At least, our Cathy was fortunate to marry Tristan!”
“Grandpapa, please,” Madeline complained, groaning. Then, she turned her attention back to her grandmother. “I cannot do that, Grandmama. Marrying a man I do not love. Cathy was merely fortunate that Tristan had truly fallen in love with her, but...”
A sob interrupted her. It was not coming from Lady Marlow. It came from Selina. Her youngest sister covered her face with her hands, but Madeline could tell she was distraught. Her shoulders were shaking.
“I am so sorry, Maddy,” she moaned. “I am so sorry you are being pressured to marry a stranger because of me. I do not want you to sacrifice your happiness just so I can attend a ball! I would rather hide myself than make you unhappy.”
Madeline looked at each of the women she loved. Her grandmother appeared resigned, with the light fading from her eyes that had twinkled only moments before. Portia’s eyes looked tired and wary. She likely thought she would be thrown into this situation instead of her older sister. Then, there was Selina, who was willing to hide her beauty from the world and sacrifice her entire future for her.
“Hush, Selina. I will not let you destroy your future,” Madeline said softly, forcing a smile on her face. “Don’t you fret. Our sister Cathy was forced to marry the Duke of Baxter, who has become a part of our family, and they are so in love with each other. They are happier than ever. Perhaps if I put in some effort, I could find the same happiness in this marriage.”
Madeline did not really believe her own words. She was going to marry a stranger, even if he was the Duke of Huntington, for the sake of her sisters.
As she finally walked toward the breakfast table, her mind was not on the eggs, toast, and butter. Instead, her mind had created a mantra:
Please let him be kind. Please, just let him be kind.
Chapter 6
The weeks following the lake incident and being chosen as the Duke of Huntington’s bride were a blur. Madeline never expected to be properly wooed, but she thought there would at least be some communication before the ceremony.
Alas, she was mistaken. The Duke of Huntington was as good as a phantom. He did not send flowers or love notes. He did not offer romantic carriage rides, either. Instead, he seemed prepared to make the arrangement completely contractual. Madeline spent the days leading up to the event oscillating between hope and dread. When the wait was finally over, she did not know what to think.
The heavy doors of the chapel were now open, ready for her to enter and walk the aisles of lilies and stone.
“Steady, my girl,” Lord Marlow whispered. His voice was steady, but his arm trembled beneath hers. Everyone else would see a sharp-looking man in his eighties wearing his dress uniform. His eyes darted here and there, as if expecting an attack from somewhere. “We march on according to orders!”
Madeline forced a smile, but her cheeks felt like lead. The despair was quickly replaced by anxiety as they finally walked down the aisle. She kept her gaze on her tiny bouquet of nosegays and white roses. All the details in the wedding were arranged by a man she had never even met. A few steps from the altar, she let herself raise her eyes to see if her duke would be old.
The air was suddenly pulled from her lungs.
The Duke of Huntington was certainly not an old man. Instead, he was a young man with a sharp jawline and the most piercing blue eyes she had ever seen. And she had seen those eyes before. That chiseled face.
It is him!
Madeline’s knees felt weak, but she was proud of the fact that she was able to hold on to the gasp about to escape her lips. In contrast, the Duke of Huntington barely moved except for a muscle in his jaw. His gaze swept over her. There was no sign of warmth or attraction. Instead, she saw assessment. She was also quite certain there had been a brief flash of recognition.
The ceremony quickly proceeded as planned.
