“I married you because I needed a wife,” he explained. “More specifically, I needed theappearanceof having a wife. I need society to see me as a married gentleman. Married gentlemen have more success in business, apparently, though I can’t begin to fathom why that might be, and I can’t compromise my chances at success, so I needed to marry. That’s why you’re here. That’s the purpose of our arrangement.”
Lydia stared at him. “Is this some sort of joke?”
“Excuse me?”
“You brought me here for the sake of appearance only? Did you even consider what I would want before deciding to play games with my life, Edward? Did you even think to ask me?”
“I didn’t need to ask you, did I?” he countered. “You were very clear with me on the first day of our knowing one another. You told me that what mattered most to you was having the opportunity to become a duchess—didn’t you say that?”
She opened her mouth and then closed it again.
He was right, of course. She had said exactly that.
Much as she would have liked to deny it now or protest that she had never meant it, there was nothing she could really say. He was perfectly right. She’d told him that the only thing she cared about was his title, so whyshouldn’the marry her for appearance alone? Why shouldn’t he treat her as a means to an end when she had given every impression of treating him in that very way? He must have thought he’d discovered a diamond when he’d realized the lady he was there to discuss marriage with wanted the very same thing he did—a loveless marriage that meant nothing at all.
“What if I hadn’t said that?” she asked him. “What if I’d said something different? What if I had told you I wished to marry for love?”
“But you didn’t say that,” he pointed out. “What’s the point in exploring things that are untrue? A practical gentleman such as myself would never waste time on such pursuits, and that’s something you ought to understand about me right away. It doesn’t matter to me whatwouldhave happened if things had been different. Things aren’t different. They are as they are. You wanted a duke, and I am one. I wanted a lady to be my wife, and you are that. In that way, we can make one another perfectly happy. There is no need for us to pretend that this is something other than what it is. There’s no need for shared beds or children or a pretense at love.”
“But don’t you want an heir?” she asked. “Doesn’t the dukedom need an heir?”
It was her last grasp at turning the situation in her favor. If she gave him a child, perhaps he would eventually come to see things differently. Perhaps, given time…
“I have a younger brother,” he said, his tone disinterested. “And he plans on producing children, so there won’t be any need for me to do that. The dukedom will have an heir regardless of my actions. But you needn’t worry about your place in the hierarchy, Lydia. You’ll enjoy all the privileges of a duchess. You’ll be free to do whatever you’d like, to move about the house and use your title as you please. You’ll have access to all the financial resources of the dukedom, and you’ll be free to throw parties and make use of the staff however you see fit. It will be everything you wanted it to be.”
It would be nothing she had wanted it to be. But what could she say? How could she tell him now that it had all been a lie, that his title had never been the thing she cared about? How could she be angry with him, feel deceived by him, when he had just pointed out her own deception? There was nothing to be done. He was perfectly right, and now, she had gotten herself stuck.
She was miserable. If only they had been permitted even a short courtship! If they had, she could have learned these things about him. She would have fought harder to stop this marriage from taking place. She had convinced herself that the idea of love was enough to make her want to marry, but now, all hope of that was gone.
She saw her life stretched out in front of her, and it was bleak and empty. She would never have a child to raise alongside Nancy and her child. She would never have love in her life. Yes, she and Nancy would be family to one another, but it would look nothing like what she had anticipated. How could she possibly be happy with this turn of events?
Edward led her into the foyer, where the housekeeper was waiting to show her up to her room. He handed her off and walked away without a word. Bleakly, Lydia followed the housekeeper up the stairs and to the bedroom that would be hers. Already, she was longing for her bedroom at home and for the night before, when her future had still seemed bright and full of promise. Everything had gone so wrong so fast.
“If you need anything, you may inform your lady’s maid,” the housekeeper said. “The staff is all here to provide for you, Your Grace.”
Your Grace. It was the first time she had been addressed as if she was a duchess—which, of course, she was. It was the first time she had been honored with the title she had married into.
She no longer wanted it. She would give it back, she thought bitterly, if only it meant that she could reclaim a chance at having love in her life.
But that chance was gone forever.
CHAPTERELEVEN
Violet was waiting for Lydia in her bedroom as promised, and the sight of a familiar face from her past life was at once so comforting and heartbreaking that Lydia was hard-pressed not to fling herself into the arms of her lady’s maid and burst into tears.
“You look unhappy,” Violet noted sympathetically. “Was the wedding not what you hoped it would be, Your Grace?”
“The wedding was absolutely nothing like what I hoped it would be.” Truer words had never been spoken. “Nothing about any of this is what I hoped it would be, Violet.”
“Well, let’s get you out of that gown,” the lady’s maid sympathized. “Then you can tell me all about it.”
Lydia stood in front of the looking glass, staring at her reflection as Violet helped her undress. It was odd. She had seen herself every day in the looking glass at home, but even that familiar sight felt strange—almost unknown—to her now that she was here. She didn’t recognize the young lady she was looking at. In the space of a single day, all the hopes and plans she’d had for her life had been stripped away, leaving her with nothing but empty spaces.
What would tomorrow look like? What would the world look like five years from now, or ten? It was impossible to imagine now that she was married to a gentleman who had told her he could never love her and would never try. She didn’t know what to think.
When she was dressed for bed, she went over to the window seat and sat down. It was too dark outside to see what her view might be like, and she found she didn’t have a lot of curiosity about it anyway. Whatever was out there, she would see it in the morning. It would be very fine, no doubt. This whole manor was very fine. But it didn’t matter.
“Can I bring you something, Your Grace?” Violet asked. “I’ve been instructed on how to fetch anything you might need from the kitchen. And it’s been made clear to me that, as the lady of the house, you’re to have whatever you want.” She smiled. “That’s lovely, isn’t it? You could ask for anything, and it would be arranged for you. It must be wonderful to be a duchess.”
