If Mother could see me now…
He shook off the thought. That was wrong, and he knew it—it wasn’t to his mother that he had made his vow. The promise had been to himself, and no one had been betrayed. Still, he felt a deep sense of guilt over what he had done. It made him feel as if the vow had never meant anything at all—as if the value he’d placed in it had always been worthless.
How could he have forgotten just because of a beautiful lady? How could that be enough to turn his head?
I always knew this would happen.I always knew that marriage made people weak. And sure enough, that’s exactly what it’s doing—it’s making me weak. I should be ashamed. Iamashamed.
“Your Grace,” a lady said, interrupting his thoughts. “May I ask what brings you out here?”
He paused to assess the situation. The lady was with a friend, so there would be no scandal if he stopped to speak to her. Still, he could tell by the flirtatious look on her face that she had inappropriate thoughts in her mind.
“If you’ll excuse me,” he replied, “I’m just out for a walk.”
“But I couldn’t help noticing that the Duchess isn’t with you,” the lady observed.
He was disgusted by her advances. Could she possibly think that there was any chance at winning him away from his wife so soon after their wedding?
“She’s just inside.” He began to walk away.
The lady followed. “You know,” she said, “many of us have wondered about what drove you to marry so suddenly, Your Grace. You looked as if you were bound to be single for the rest of your days, and suddenly, you were saying your vows. If there was some sort of scandal—if you found yourself regretting your position and wanting a way out—well, I’ve always admired you, Your Grace, and of course, it would be an honor to find myself attached to a duke in whatever regard he might desire me.”
“What kind of offer is this?” He shook his head and turned to her friend. “You had better get this young lady inside before she makes these advances on someone indiscriminate enough to accept,” he said. “This is how ladies get themselves into trouble, and I want no part of it.”
He pushed his way down the path, away from everyone else who had had the idea to come outside, needing to be alone. It took a considerable amount of time to get away from the crowd. The night air was warm and pleasant, and many of the partygoers had had the same idea as Edward, so the garden path was full of people. But Edward persisted, and after a while, he came to a part of the garden that was completely devoid of guests.
He sat down on a marble bench and let out a sigh.
He should never have married. It had been a mistake from the start. He had allowed himself to be pushed into this arrangement he’d never wanted by people who had insisted he needed it to succeed in business—well, what did they know? He had never allowed anyone else to tell him how to be successful before. Why had he listened this time? It was such a mistake.
A long shadow appeared on the ground beside him. He looked up and swallowed a groan. It was Lydia. She’d followed him out here.
“How did you find me?” he asked.
He knew he had come a long way from the manor, and unless she’d been following him right from the start—which he knew she hadn’t—it didn’t make sense.
“People are talking about you along the path,” she said. “A young lady called Lady Charlotte has a lot to say about you. Apparently, you were making improper advances on her.”
Now he groaned aloud. “Of course I wasn’t.”
“I know you weren’t,” Lydia said, and he knew a moment’s gratitude for the fact that Lydia was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt in this way. “Aside from anything else, there was the way she was talking about it. She wasn’t upset. It sounded more like she was showing off.”
“Did anyone believe her?”
“No, I don’t think so,” Lydia replied. “She had a friend with her, and her friend was exposing her as a liar, saying she had seen the whole thing. And another gentleman said that Lady Charlotte had told a similar lie about him at a ball last month. This seems to be a regular thing she does.”
“Well, that’s horrible.”
“I know, but it’s not your problem,” Lydia said. “However, they were able to tell me which way you’d gone. And that’s how I followed you. I needed to speak with you.”
“What is it?” he asked her.
Maybe she had only come wanting to speak to him about something—maybe she would go away.
But she walked over to him and stood beside the bench. “May I join you?”
“I was hoping to be alone,” he said. But if he was honest with himself, he was glad to have her company.
“Please.”
