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“Hang it all, never mind that. Arthur, how can you be sure you’re not making a terrible mistake?” Ralph gestured wildly and narrowly missed spilling his drink before he thumped it on the table. “She’s a maid. What assurance have you that she’s not merely seeking a way to access the Bedford fortunes for her own designs?”
Arthur grimaced, unease and anger threading through his mind and threatening to darken his mood. “Come now, you saw how she looked at me…”
“And that’s just the point, isn’t it?” Samuel chimed in. “She looks at you like you’re the very devil, rather than even having the grace to be grateful for your attention, and now you say she’s accepted your suit, just like that?” He shook his head. “Ralph is right. What assurance have you? You could be making a terrible mistake. And anyway, what do you know of the girl besides that she is a servant?”
“She’s well read. Intelligent. Spirited…”
“Likely a shrew if she’s got temper enough to be called spirited when she was only in your employ,” Ralph muttered.
Arthur shot him a dirty look. “Spirited, I meant, and I still do mean. But she’s also graceful and well-spoken, and gentle. And she has a good heart…”
“And how would you know it’s her heart and not her greed?” Samuel frowned.
“She’s family in London, and she asked for permission to care for them, even after our marriage.” Arthur scowled back.
Ralph promptly choked on his drink. “Family in London? And you just accepted that? Arthur, man, you’ve lost your wits. Think! Family could mean a husband or a lover and bastard babes, for all you know.”
“That’s right. Did she offer to introduce you?” Samuel nodded
Arthur frowned again, though he tried to ignore the unease sending little darts of pain and uncertainty into his heart. “I… she mentioned she was estranged from her parents, but I believe she has a sister... yes, she did say that she was going to ask her sister to go with her to the shops.”
Ralph snorted. “A sister? Have you entirely lost your senses to the girl? She might introduce you to anyone, and how would you know different?”
“He’s right, Arthur. You’ve taken leave of your senses. It’s too sudden, all of it. Your interest in this girl, your proposal, her acceptance... She’s got you bewitched.” Samuel shook his head. “You need to stop and think a moment. Do you really want to entwine your life with a girl who’s all but a stranger to you?”
Anger heated his blood, and he stood, shoving his chair back. “Say what you will. I am neither mad, nor besotted, nor ensnared. But I am determined to take Nora to the altar, and there are no words you can speak that will convince you that this choice is a poor one. It may, in fact, be the wisest I have made in some time. Certainly, it is a most pleasant one for me. I have every confidence that things shall work out quite well between us.”
He drained his glass of beer and set it aside. “I have much to do. I came mostly to tender your invitations for tomorrow night. I trust you are all still attending, despite what some of you seem to think?”
Three nods met his sharp inquiry. “Then I shall see you tomorrow. And I hope that, by the end of the night, you will see the truth... that Nora is in every way an excellent match for me and will make a more than suitable Duchess of Bedford in every particular.”
And with that, he turned and strode from the room, more resolved but less at ease than he had been before he entered. For all that he was determined to ignore their criticism, one question Ralph and Samuel had posed still rang heavy in his mind.
What do I truly know of Nora?
Perhaps it was time to make an effort to learn more about her than the teasing hints she had shared thus far.
CHAPTERELEVEN
Nora was nervous about picking up Scarlett and introducing her to the Dowager, but there was no way around it and no one else she could call upon. In truth, there was no one she would have trusted, even had she possessed a wider circle of acquaintances.
By the time the Bedford carriage pulled up to their small cottage, she was nearly sick with anxiety. Would the Dowager ask questions about Lydia? How would they answer if she did? She hadn’t anticipated this situation and had no plan in place.
Would the Dowager react badly if she revealed her daughter’s existence? Would the older woman demand the match be dissolved if she found out she was raising another man’s child?
Her heart was pounding hard enough to make her feel almost ill as she approached the front door, the Dowager following with an air of polite curiosity.
For an instant, she felt embarrassed, bringing a lady of such high station to the cottage she called home. Then a thread of anger moved through her and stiffened her spine.
The Dowager knows what I am and what my situation is. If she dares to scorn my home for it, it only proves her as shallow and arrogant as the rest of Society.
But that was not something to be worried over. She reached out and rapped firmly on the door. “Scarlett, dear.”
The door opened moments later. Scarlett blinked at her. “Nora! I thought you were going to be out for some time.”
“As did I, and technically, I still am. However, I have a favor to ask of you.” Nora stepped back and gestured to her companion. “Scarlett, may I introduce the Dowager Duchess of Bedford, Lady Abigail Russell.”
Scarlett swept a credible curtsy for someone who had no reason to have ever learned how to do so properly. “It is a pleasure to meet you, my lady.”
