Jones, his butler, appeared in the doorway. “Your Grace, a messenger has come,” he said and presented a silver tray with a letter on top.
Kenneth took the envelope and looked at the seal, his stomach twisting.
“Who’s that from?” Leonard asked and stepped so close to him that Kenneth picked up the scent of his sandalwood cologne.
“It’s from the Earl of Carlisle,” Kenneth replied, tension lacing his voice. He read the short note and then looked up at his friend. “Lady Joanna has spoken to her father, as arranged. I’ve been invited to dinner with the Blackmore family tomorrow night.”
Leonard’s eyes widened, realizing the gravity of the situation. “Dinner with Lady Joanna’s family? I suppose he has agreed to the courtship, then. Well, Kenny, all I can do now is wish you the very best of luck, and hope you have thought this through.”
As they made their way to the drawing room, Kenneth felt a knot tighten in his stomach. The reality of the charade hit him—the dinner with the Blackmore family was no longer a hypothetical scenario.
Everything had just become more real, and suddenly, he wasn’t so sure if this elaborate plan was a good idea or a disastrous mistake. The weight of uncertainty settled on his shoulders, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was venturing into uncharted territory, with consequences he couldn’t predict.
CHAPTER 7
The drawing room felt stifling as Joanna paced nervously, her fingers wringing the fabric of her lavender gown. She’d heard the Marquess’s carriage arriving minutes ago, and her mother had gone to greet him, along with her father. She’d caught a glimpse of the man as he entered the manor, a smile on his face and a spring in his step.
He thought he was coming to discuss the wedding, no doubt. Instead, her father would deal him a blow that would be hard to take. She hadn’t set out to hurt the man, but she also knew that at the end of the day, she had to fight for her happiness. This was what all of this was about, after all. Her happiness, her freedom. Surely the Marquess of Worcester had to know that his plan to marry someone his daughter’s age could backfire.
Still, it was not a good feeling. Oh, how she wanted to take Sally into her confidence. Everything would be so much easier if she could confide in her sister. Alas, she’d kept everything to herself. Indeed, the night before, she hadn’t spoken to her sisters at all, excusing herself early under the guise of a megrim.
Even when her sisters found out the news, she knew she could not tell them the truth. Rosy was a gabster of the highest order, and Sally would judge her, that she knew.
The click-clack of half-boots on marble drew her attention, and she looked up to see her mother approach. The Countess of Carlisle entered the drawing room, her expression a portrait of solemnity. Her hair was piled up on top of her head, with a few strands framing her face in a charming manner, and her lips had been dabbed with a hint of lip pomade. As always, she looked lovely, although her puckered lips and her furrowed brow betrayed her true state of mind.
She settled into a chair, and Joanna, unable to contain her anxiety, blurted out, “He is here? He is speaking to Father?”
The Countess regarded her with a piercing gaze. “Yes, the Marquess of Worcester has just arrived. He is in your father’s study now.” She paused, licked her lips, and took a deep breath through her nose. “Are you certain about this, Joanna?”
Joanna also took a deep breath, her nerves jittery. “Mama, I’m absolutely sure. I’d rather court a man closer to my age than someone old enough to be my father. The Duke of Wells is a respectable choice.”
Her mother’s eyes bored into hers. “Joanna, I hope you’re not making a mistake. If you are, if you should change your mind, the Marquess may not be available anymore. He might not want to take you back.”
Joanna met her mother’s stare, determination in her eyes. “I’m not making a mistake, Mama. I’ve made up my mind, and the Duke of Wells is who I want. He is a better option. He is wealthier and has a higher rank. I do not see how it could be a mistake.”
She wanted to add that the Duke wasn’t widowed with young children, but her mother already knew.
Joanna wondered what her mother truly thought of this news. She hadn’t been the one to tell her—her father had taken on that burden. Until now, her mother had said little on the subject.
“Please, do not judge me harshly, Mama. I must do what is best for me,” she said, not able to stand her mother’s silence any longer.
The Countess studied her, her expression unreadable. Then, she exhaled and dropped her shoulders. “I just want you to be happy, my dear. These decisions have consequences, as you know.”
Joanna nodded, trying to shake off the knot of unease in her stomach. “I understand, Mama. I’ve thought about it, believe me.”
The Countess sighed, her concern evident. “I hope you’re right, Joanna. Marriage is a delicate matter, and it’s not always simple. Just be cautious, my dear.”
Joanna wanted to ask her mother about her marriage, and if she knew about Miss Hastings. But she knew this wasn’t the right time or place. She wasn’t sure there ever would be a right time or place to have such a discussion. Instead, she fixed her gaze on a distant point in the room.
“I will, and I appreciate your concern.”
As her mother’s eyes lingered on her, Joanna couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt deep within. She hoped she was making the right choice, not just for herself but for her family.
Alas, even if she doubted it all, it was too late now. The words had been spoken, the decisions made. There was no going back now. At this moment, her father was telling the Marquess of Worcester that their union was off the table.
She was jolted out of her thoughts by a sharp bark and the sound of chatter as her sisters entered along with Rudy. “Come boy,” she called, and the puppy jumped into her lap.
Feeling her dog’s weight on her made her instantly feel better, but she knew she would soon have to explain herself to her sisters.
