“A secret whirlwind courtship! I should wish for something like that for myself as well,” she said with a sigh. The wind caught a strand of her hair and blew it into her face. Charity quickly removed it, tucking it behind her sister's ear. “And a duke at that! Oh, but I should be so upset with you for not telling me. We tell each other everything!”
Charity gulped. She ought to tell Eleanor everything, of course, but she could not bring herself to do so. It would be too humiliating. And frankly, she worried about crushing her sister's spirit even more by revealing that there was no romance, no happy ending. Eleanor had taken their father's death badly—worse than Charity, even—and she did not want to rob her of this perceived happiness.
“My sister the duchess!” she exclaimed, seemingly having forgotten the mild rebuke she'd just issued. “Tell me, is he kind? And romantic?”
Charity said nothing for a moment as she looked through the window at the man who was now her husband. She knew nothing of him, only what Millie had told her. And while that was mostly positive, she had no firsthand knowledge of what Eammon was like.
Except, she did.
“He is kind enough to let me bring Ambrose to his estate so that I may see him every day,” she said.
“Oh, that is wonderful! Mama always disliked him, so I was worried for him at Millie's family's home in case they had him sent away.”
Charity ground her teeth. It was true; her mother saw no use in Ambrose. He wasn't a horse one could ride, after all, and since Charity kept him as a pet, he could not be used in the fields either.
“Evidently, Her Grace, the dowager, also has a Shetland pony.”
“She does? Oh, it must be serendipity!” Eleanor said and then paused. Charity looked up and saw that Eammon and his mother had stepped into the garden.
“It is time we go home,” Eammon said. “I know it is customary to go on a honeymoon now, but I believe it will be understood if we do not.”
“Of course,” Charity said and kept her eyes down, though she was aware of the way his blue eyes bore into her, as if he sought to read her thoughts.
“Charity, my dear,” the dowager duchess said, “I do wish to tell you how delighted I am to call you my daughter-in-law. I hope soon you will return, and we can all dine together so you may meet Eammon's family. We are a large one.”
“So I have heard,” she said, wondering what it might be like to be a member of a large family. Outside of Millie and her two brothers, she did not have close relations. Her father's family had consisted only of him and his parents, who were each the only children in their families to live into adulthood.
“And perhaps you may visit us at Hayward. I hear you keep a Shetland pony there,” she said, and to her relief, the dowager duchess smiled broadly.
“What a lovely idea! I adore Hector, and he will be delighted to have a companion in your Ambrose.”
She knew her horse’s name. How? She glanced at Eammon, who smiled at her, his eyes sparkling. He had remembered her horse's name and told his mother about it.
She wasn't certain what this meant, but at least he had been good enough to actually listen to her. Lord Markham would likely not remember the name of her sister, let alone her horse.
“Ambrose? That useless mare?” her mother said as she joined them. “Oh, Your Grace, you need not trouble yourself with it. It cannot be ridden or used for anything at all; it would only take up resources.”
Charity's anger boiled at once. She knew her mother did not care for Ambrose, but to say such things in front of her new husband! What if he changed his mind?
To her relief, she saw the dowager's visage darken, making it clear she did not agree with Lady Pembroke at all. However, she cast a worried glance up at her husband, concerned he might see her mother's point.
“If Ambrose makes my new wife happy, then he shall be at our stable, Lady Pembroke. Indeed, my mother has found much joy in her Shetland pony, though he is not much use either, other than for personal enjoyment and enrichment. Which, one might say, are very good uses. Would you not agree, Mother?”
He turned to the dowager, whose scowl lifted somewhat as she nodded.
“Indeed. I find Shetland ponies bring much comfort. There is nothing better than watching their sturdy forms frolicking in the meadow. It is a passion I share with your daughter,” she concluded.
Charity could not help herself; she smirked at her mother, who had reddened like a tomato at this joint assault from Charity's new family.
“You see, Mother,” she said. “Ambrose serves many purposes, and I believe he will make a wonderful companion for Hector.”
“I dare say that is so,” Eammon agreed. “They do better in pairs. As such, you are doing us a favor, Lady Charity.”
She noted he used her former title, but she did not mind it. She had a difficult time remembering that she was no longer Lady Charity either.
“I meant, Her Grace is doing us a favor,” he corrected himself without taking his eyes off her.
Charity sat in the carriage as it jolted back and forth, taking her away from the home of her new mother-in-law. To her surprise, Eammon sat beside her when they got into the carriage rather than opposite her. She blinked and looked at him, unsure of what to say. Her feelings were in turmoil. On one hand, she was still intensely upset at being forced and tricked into this marriage, overwhelmed by guilt for not having told her sister the truth, and yet oddly pleased by the way the conversation had gone between herself, her mother, and Eammon’s mother. It wasn’t that she had wanted her mother to be put in her place, but she could not deny that there was something validating about having somebody on her side.
