The idea of being married to a man who was almost fifty and to… consummate the marriage… it had made her stick to her stomach. The truth was, after their walk, she’d contemplated running away. As she’d sat on the bench, her new puppy in her lap, she’d wondered where she might go, who might take her in. She had friends, but none who’d be able to take her in.
All of her friends were her age and either lived with their parents or were already married. Her only hope had been a distant auntin Ireland who had been estranged from the family long ago because of her outrageously modern views.
She’d been contemplating ways to make her escape when the Duke had sat beside her and made his shocking proposal.
He wanted a fake courtship. Even now, as she sat here, preparing to tell her father, it had hardly sunk in. It was the salvation she’d needed, the ray of hope that might allow her to forge her own path.
With the Duke offering to court her, she’d get what she needed most—time. Either time to find another man she could tolerate or time to find a way out of marriage altogether. All that was left was to tell her father.
She cleared her throat. “Father, I won’t be forced into a marriage as some sort of punishment. We both know that is what this is.”
“I do not know what you mean, Joanna,” the Earl said and shook his head, though they both knew the truth.
The air in the room grew heavy with tension.
“You know very well. You want me out of this house as soon as possible because I know what you’ve done. You know that I saw you with Miss Hastings all those years ago.”
The name of her former governess, a lovely young woman with a curvaceous form and a dazzling smile who’d charmed everyone she came across, echoed in the room.
The Earl took a deep breath, and Joanna’s mind flashed back to that fateful day four years ago, when she had stumbled upon a betrayal that shattered her naivety. Seeking her governess, she had entered Miss Hastings’ chamber, only to witness a scene that stained her memory forever. Her father and Miss Hastings entwined in a forbidden embrace. She remembered her father’s panicked face when he spotted her in the doorway, pushing the governess aside and ordering her to dress.
Joanna might have been fifteen, but she’d understood what had happened.
“We need not talk about this, Joanna,” her father said, but he could not face her. Instead, he glanced up at the portrait above the fireplace, which showed their family back when Joanna and her sisters were still young, before he had cheated on the Countess.
It was true. While both knew what had happened that day, they’d never spoken of it. The following morning, Miss Hastings had disappeared. The Earl had declared that her family had called her away—a lie the entire family had accepted.
Well, everyone but Joanna, who had seen the governess leave in a carriage like a thief in the night that very morning.
Had her father paid her handsomely to ensure her silence? Had he chased her away like a stray dog with nothing but the clothes on her back?
Joanna did not know—nor did she want to. The governess’s actions had been almost as vile as her father’s, for her mother had always been kind to the young woman.
“Of course, we need to speak about it,” Joanna insisted. “It is why all of this is happening. For four years, I’ve kept your secret. I haven’t told my sisters or Mother, although I suspect she knows.”
“She does,” he confirmed.
At the time, Joanna had assumed that her mother was in the dark about her father’s actions, but the older she got, the more she understood that women often knew what their husbands were doing. Of course, she’d never spoken to her mother about it, nor had she intended to do so.
“I’ve kept your secret, but I know you can never be sure if you can trust my silence. So, marrying me off to the first man available is convenient, I am sure.”
Struck by the moment’s gravity, her father struggled to find words. Fueled by years of silent resentment, Joanna waited for a response that could unravel the web of deceit and confront the painful truth they had both avoided for far too long.
“I have regretted my actions, I assure you. And they play no role in what is happening now. I have been looking for husbands for you and your sisters for some time. It is my duty as a father, that is the only reason I am doing this. Lord Worcester is an excellent choice. He has a lovely estate, you will love it.”
“I will not, and I willnotmarry him. I refuse,” Joanna asserted. She felt the flames of rage burning in her chest as her father’s eyes grew wide.
“You will,” he returned, his voice low. “I am your father, and I am telling you that youwillmarry him.”
Joanna’s chin quivered in anger as she reached into the pocket of her gown and pulled out a letter. “I willnot, for I will marry another,” she stated and handed it to her father with a trembling hand.
His bushy eyebrows rose at once. “Marry another? What do you mean? What is this madness?” He took the letter from her, unfolded it, and read it as he paced up and down the heavy red carpet in front of his desk. “The Duke of Wells? Kenneth? But you hardly know him.” He spun around and stared at her, his lips slightly parted.
“Nor do I know the Marquess of Worcester, yet you’re ready to marry me off to him.”
“You have known him since you were a child! You used to play with his daughter,” he thundered, but Joanna did not yield.
“And you see nothing wrong with that? That I should marry an old man whom I have known all my life? Besides, I know him no better than Kenneth.”
