“Your Grace?” she replied and shuffled slightly so he could sit beside her. “May I help you?”
“I thought perhaps I might helpyou—that is if you need my help.”
She frowned and tilted her head to the side. “I cannot imagine how I might need your help. You returned my dog, which is all I needed.”
The edge to her voice told him she was suspicious. He would have felt the same were he in her position.
“I see,” he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets, unsure if he should just leave her alone. “I could not help but wonder… your fiancé…”
“We are not yet engaged,” she barked, and Kenneth knew at once that he was right to have broached the subject. This was a bride mostunwilling.
“Pardon me, I meant the gentleman from earlier. I could not help but notice that you seemed… May I ask, is this a marriage of your own choosing?”
“How dare you?” she huffed, and this time, she got up, so they were almost at eye level.
The little dog, suddenly awoken from his slumber, let out a yelp and pressed against her leg.
Kenneth raised his hands. “I couldn’t help but notice that you seemed uncomfortable, that is all. I do not like to see someone in distress and…”
To his shock, her eyes glistened, and a sob escaped her lips. Kenneth looked left and right, utterly taken aback by her outburst. Fortunately for them both, nobody was looking their way.
“Come, sit,” he urged. “So you are concealed by the trees.”
He guided her back to the bench and sat beside her, noticing her shoulders heaving up and down.
“I must apologize, Your Grace. This is unlike me. I just have been so… I… This is not what I wanted. I don’t want to marry that man. He is twice or thrice my age. I know his daughter, and…”
He fished in his pocket for a handkerchief and handed it to her. “You need not apologize. Please, tell me,” he said softly as she pressed the cloth with his initials embroidered on it to her eyes.
She glanced at him, and then, the story of her impending sordid union with the Marquess of Worcester burst forth, and the more Kenneth listened, the more his blood boiled.
What did these older men think they were doing, forcing their daughters to marry men they did not care about?
“I do not understand. What in the world does Lord Worcester stand to gain from the union? Do you know him well?”
“No! I do not know him in the least! I know his daughter, who is my age, but we are not close friends. I do not understand it either. And I have an elder sister who is eager to wed. It is not right that a younger daughter marries first, and… Not that I want Sally to be shackled to a man much older than her either.”
“You need not explain, I understand very well. The eldest daughter always marries first. But then, if your father is lookingto uphold one tradition—that of the father choosing husbands for his daughters—then why not the other?”
Joanna shrugged, looking utterly miserable. “My father claims it is because the Marquess requested the match, but I think he… he does not care about me.”
The expression of utter heartbreak that flashed across her face made Kenneth feel uncomfortable, as if he was becoming involved in something he should have no part in. Yet, he heard himself speak up once more.
“Your father?”
He wasn’t sure what drew him into this conversation, but he assumed it was because the situation she was in spoke to him. He knew what it felt like not to be favored by one’s father. It wasn’t that his father had disliked him. It was just that Kenneth knew he could never measure up to Edward—although that was beside the point now. This wasn’t about him, but abouther.
“Yes. But I cannot… It matters little. It is what it is. He wants the match to go ahead, and I can’t do anything to stop it. I am helpless, a pawn on my father’s chessboard. What I want is of no consequence.” Joanna shrugged, and the puppy yelped miserably as if he could sense her despair.
“What would you want to do, if it were up to you?” Kenneth asked and watched as she bit her bottom lip in a way that would have been adorable if not for the awkwardness of their meeting.
“I would want to make my own choices. I’d like to choose the man I want to marry. If only I had known this was coming, I might have searched harder for a man I could tolerate.”
Kenneth let out a little snort then, for this was the Joanna he remembered. Direct, feisty.
“Tolerate? Is that all you seek in a husband?”
“No, but it is better than being forced into a marriage I do not want. Alas, I do not have time to find someone I could be with or another solution. My father wants to get the wedding ceremony over with sooner rather than later.” She shrugged, then picked up her puppy again and pressed him to her chest.
