Page 22 of Married to the Duke By Midnight

Beatrice had arrived along with Mr. Oakley, who was now in a meeting with Robert, Ambrose and their respective solicitors. Jo had opted not to attend the meeting. Her urge not to see her cousin again was greater than the desire to know what he might say about her.

“I mean I obviously knew that Lord Riddlesmarsh was wealthy, but this is beyond anything I had ever imagined,” Beatrice continued as she looked around the sitting room.

Lord Bellingham, Beatrice’s father, had not been particularly wealthy. The family had gone through several generations of people who were poor at money management, and Beatrice’s father was no exception. This was also why Beatrice had not had a season in London but had only debuted in Hampshire society. Still her father had counted on her making a ‘better’ match than a solicitor. The couple had settled in London since it was where Mr. Oakley worked, but also to escape Beatrice’s father’s presence. But Jo and Beatrice kept in touch throughout.

“I know,” Jo muttered and looked around the room as well. “I feel the same.”

She asked Beatrice to sit on the sofa, then sat in the chair next to her. Jo poured tea for them both and gestured for her friend to help herself with the food.

“Are you nervous?” Beatrice asked as she filled her plate with several biscuits and small cucumber sandwiches.

Beatrice had always had a sweet tooth, but this was a bit excessive even for her. Jo had an inkling that her friend might be pregnant again, but since Beatrice had not told her, she would refrain from asking.

“Oakley says that you have no right to be. He has made certain that the paperwork is all in order. Mr. Hawkins has no claim over you or your money,” Beatrice continued.

Her attention was focused on her food, and she was speaking matter-of-factly. Jo appreciated that her friend was not witness to the brief burst of distress the words ‘claim over you’ gave her. Ambrose had never stated outright what he had intended to do if Jo had become financially dependent on him, but given the many times he had mentioned how unnatural she was, Jo feared that he might be thinking of placing her in a home for women suffering from hysteria – or worse.

“I am glad,” Jo said and gulped.

Beatrice’s focus changed from her food. She delicately placed her plate on the table in front of her and took Jo’s hand.

“Oh, Jo, please. He is out of your life now. You married Lord Riddlesmarsh to be rid of him.”

Beatrice gently stroked a curl away from Jo’s face, only to have it fall back in place immediately. Jo’s new lady’s maid had put a very strong potion in it to make the curls stick.

“I know,” Jo muttered and leaned into Beatrice’s hand. Even though Beatrice was only a year older than Jo, she had always acted like an older sister, almost maternal at times.

“I know this is not what you wished for, and it is not what I hoped for you either if you ever married, but I think it is the best solution, given the circumstances. He seems kind, Lord Riddlesmarsh,” Beatrice continued cautiously.

“He is,” Jo confirmed and turned away from Beatrice’s caress to pick up her sandwich. Her friend took it as a sign that she could concentrate on her food as well.

“How has it been? Is he sticking to your agreement?” Beatrice asked in between bites.

“He is.”

Jo’s mind briefly strayed to last night. The way she had foolishly tried to flirt with him, given liquid courage by the madeira, only to be met with a dumbfounded expression on his face.

She had been wondering for hours last night whether he had agreed to her second list because it would give him time before he had to bed her as well. Maybe he was starting to share Ambrose’s sentiment that she was unwomanly?

The notion made her shiver and heat rise in her cheeks in embarrassment.

“Oooh,” Beatrice cooed, misunderstanding Jo’s blush. “But you haven’t I gather?” her friend teased her.

“No, we… no, I still want to wait…” Jo sighed heavily. “It’s…” She picked a sandwich as she spoke. “I find him very attractive,” she said, tight-lipped.

Beatrice grinned delightfully.

“Good, because he is. He certainly is.”

Jo did not know how she felt about her friend stating it as if it was obvious to everyone. Part of her wished to discuss Robert’s attractiveness at length and part of her wanted for Beatrice never to mention it again. As if it was for Jo only to see it.

“I am afraid that he does not find me attractive,” Jo whispered quietly.

“Jo,” Beatrice said patiently and waited for her friend to look at her before she continued. “I saw the two of you kiss in the Thistleworths’ garden. I am certain he finds you attractive.”

Jo blushed at the thought. She was still not certain why he had demanded that they kiss before the wedding. What kind of test it had been.

“Do you think that he finds fault with my clothing? He has not complimented me once,” Jo confessed and looked down at the pale-yellow gown she was wearing.