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“Of course I will tell her. It is important that she makes a good impression. Grantley will have his pick of prospective wives. She must stand out from the lot.”
“And if she rebels? Rebecca always struck me as the romantic sort. Something like you, when you were her age.”
Again the boyish grin from Edward, his typical defense mechanism.
“Was I ever romantic?”
“The very soul of romance.” Alexandria laughed, stepping into her dress having already put on petticoat and underskirt.
“Well, she will understand her duty as a Bolton. And she will see that duty done,” Edward said with finality.
“And if she does not see it so?” Alexandria persisted.
Edward was shrugging on a coat of deep blue, studying himself in the mirror. He stopped, looking at Alexandria’s reflection.
“You continue to ask. Do you think she will resist my choice for her?”
He did not believe that Rebecca would be so irresponsible. But then, once upon a time, so had he.
“She may. You are not her father.”
“I am Duke and therefore father to her in all but name. She is my responsibility. And this is in her own best interest. A match with the Duke of Stamford will bring her prestige and a comfortable income for life. What more could she want?”
Alexandria’s pouting lips twitched into a mocking smile.
“Love, my dear Teddy.”
“Love?” Edward scoffed. “Love is for poets and fools. It is not practical. When I marry, it will be for the betterment of my family and my name. That is all.”
CHAPTER 4
Edward watched the rain lashing the windows of the carriage with irritation. He hated two things above all else. Being wet and being cold. The war had taken him to Spain and for the most part, heat. If it weren’t for the thousands of murderous Frenchmen, it would have made a pleasant break from the dreariness of the English weather. Not for the first time he considered the merits of property in southern France or Italy.
The road was bumpy and he made a mental note to raise it the next time he was in London. The county of Northdane was not poor or isolated within miles of empty wilderness. It lay within spitting distance of the capital and there was no excuse for allowing the highways to deteriorate so, especially now that there was no threat of French invasion.
A curving bend took the road around the shoulder of a hill and exposed a spectacular view of the Northdane countryside. Below was the town of Southame, nestled against the River Thane. Around it the land was carved into a patchwork of fields and meadows, with woods beyond that, climbing the hills. The view was lost as the bend in the road continued its turn until it faced the gates of Wrexham Manor.
The house was a regal spread of red and white stone, perfectly proportioned and symmetrical. Its wings spread to encompass the park that occupied the north side of the house. A tree-lined avenue led to the baronial entrance. Beyond that, deer grazed amid the open grassland and wild woods hemmed the parkland in. Beyond the house, to the south, lay the gardens designed by Capability Jones.
House and gardens had been his mother’s third child. And it never failed to bring forth a sense of pride in Edward. This was the symbol of his family’s achievements. It spanned generations, outliving any individual Duke or Duchess. It was eternal and it was his duty to protect it and pass it on to his heirs. Which brought his mind back to the need for a wife. Edward sat back in the seat with a sigh. The thought of marriage and children had once been enough to set him, quite literally, running for the hills.
It had led him to purchase a commission in the Northdane Cavalry Regiment, and to adventures in Spain and France. The day he had arrived home, resplendent in the red and white uniform of the British army was vivid in his mind.
“What the devil do you think you’re doing, Teddy?” Richard Bolton, Duke of Wrexham had demanded.
The Duke had a strong, square face and iron-gray hair and whiskers. There was not an ounce of fat on his body and his demeanor was always one of rigid control.
“I’ve joined up papa. And please don’t call me that. I’m not a boy anymore,” Edward protested.
“The devil you’re not. I see a boy about to run off to Spain to evade his duty.”
“My duty to my country outweighs my duty to this family,” Edward said with a lifted chin.
“Balderdash! You’ve never cared a fig for your country. Never wanted to accompany me to Parliament, though our seat in the Lords will be yours one day. I doubt you even knew the situation in Spain until I told you I expected you to marry.”
“Give me more credit, papa. I’m not as naive as you think.”
“You’re a babe in arms, boy. And your duty is here, securing the future of this family which has been here since…”
