Page 1 of His Duchess to Remember

CHAPTER ONE

“Are you not afraid? You are dealing with this remarkably well.”

Octavia St. Vincent met her sister-in-law’s reflection in the mirror and smiled, shaking her head. “What is there to fear, dear Evelyn? It is my wedding day.”

In truth, there had been moments when she had thought such a day would never come. It was not easy to find a husband when one had all but withdrawn from wider society, but she had been determined enough to find herself a match. A match that suited her needs entirely.

“But it is all so rushed,” Evelyn, the Duchess of Ravenvale, said in earnest, her hand resting gently on Octavia’s shoulder. “You can take more time if you want to, even now. I know your brother will not mind, for he cannot understand the hurry.”

Octavia sighed. “He is my brother; he would complain about anyone I chose to marry.”

“Perhaps,” Evelyn frowned, “but even I am struggling to comprehend this. You barely know the gentleman. He has visited you but once. There has been no courtship to speak of, not really, and yet… you do not seem troubled by that.”

The two women had become very dear to one another since Evelyn had married Octavia’s brother, Hugo, the Duke of Ravenvale. Indeed, they were as close as true sisters, but there were facets of Octavia’s past that she still did not like to speak about, not even with such a beloved friend. Things that had influenced this very wedding.

Evelyn was aware of certain events, of course, but they never broached the matter. Octavia could not and would not.

“Because I am not troubled,” Octavia said, as brightly as she could. “This is what I want. I cannot wait for the wedding to be done, in truth, so that I may begin my life afresh.”

Evelyn turned Octavia around to face her, wearing a rather stern expression. “I do not like him, Octavia. I realize I should have said something sooner, but I… cannot shake this uneasy feeling that I have about him. I did not sleep at all last night, worrying that you might be making a grave mistake.”

“I know you do not like him,” Octavia said with a tight laugh. “You might not have said anything, but your face is not as quiet as you might think. Nor were your endless questions about my opinion of him particularly subtle.”

“I am a surprisingly good judge of character,” Evelyn said, her forehead creased as if in pain.

“You married my brother,” Octavia teased, needing some lightness to return to the bedchamber.

It had to be this way; she wanted it to be this way, but she could not explain to her dear friend and sister-in-law why. After all, Evelyn and Hugo were besotted with one another, so in love that it was occasionally sickening. Of course they would want the same for Octavia, but it was impossible. Impossible in a way that they would not understand, for they were not her; they could not see into her mind.

Evelyn’s face relaxed into a smile. “As I said, I am a surprisingly good judge of character.” Her expression hardened again. “The Duke of Highcastle is… not right for you, Octavia. He is rude, he is cold, he seems to revel in intimidation, and he did not look at you once throughout the entire dinner we had here at Ravenvale. Did he even speak to you, beyond pleasantries?”

“He did not need to,” Octavia said, a little defensive now.

“What do you mean, he did not need to?” Exasperation tightened Evelyn’s voice, raising the pitch. “Of course he did! You are to be his wife, my dearest Octavia. You are about to marry the man, and yet I see no warmth between you. Why are you doing this?”

It had been a swift engagement, taking just three and a half weeks between the proposal, such as it was, and the wedding day. Enough time to announce the banns and do everything properly, without bothering with the rigmarole of a proper courtship.

“I cannot let you leave this manor to go to Scotland with him,” Evelyn said thickly. “I will not be able to bear it. I do not think he is a kind man, Octavia. Please, reconsider this. Your brother and I can protect you from any scandal.”

Octavia sighed and turned her gaze toward the window, where a foggy summer morning cast an ethereal light upon the country estate. Her home. The one place where she felt safe, where she could be herself.

Of course, there was the London townhouse too, but she had fallen out of love with that residence. The city no longer brought her the joy it once had.

“Then, be reassured, for I am not going to Scotland with him,” she said quietly.

Evelyn tilted her head to one side. “I do not understand.”

“He will escort me to his estate after the wedding, and I believe he will stay for the duration of our honeymoon,” Octavia explained, her face suddenly too warm. “Once the month of our honeymoon has ended… he will depart for another residence, and I shall have my peace.”

With-child, I hope.

She was too embarrassed to say that part out loud, but it was the only reason she was getting married at all: to be a mother. It was her sole desire in life, to have children of her own. Seeing her friends with their children, her cousin Dominic and his wife Frances especially, Octavia had been struck with the realization that it was all she wanted.

The trouble was, she did not necessarily want the man that came with parenthood. And the Duke of Highcastle did not want to be part of that happy family ideal.

It was exactly why he was her perfect match.

“What?” Evelyn gasped. “It is to be… a marriage of convenience then?”