Eammon
Once the curtain was drawn up over the carriage, he turned to her. “The gentleman you beheld was Mr. Clyde Morris. He is employed by me. He regularly oversees affairs in the city when I am absent. He has informed me that, evidently, Markham has made inquiries at the registry office, striving to prove that our union is not legitimate.”
“Charity grows cold,” she queried. “What dost thou mean? Charity has grown cold. How can he attempt to demonstrate that our marriage lacks validity? We are wed. We exchanged our vows. How can he claim it to be invalid?”
“He does not believe we were ever married. Of course we were, and there exists documentation to attest to it; that, however, is not the crux of the matter. The man who united us is someone who owes me a debt of gratitude. He would never betray us, for to do so would endanger his own position.”
“Ah, so the papers we possess assert that we were wed on the day we claim, not on the actual date,” she replied in confirmation.
“Indeed. They cannot issue paperwork to just any random soul who requests it,” he explained, “but that is not the principal concern. The main issue is that the registry office has confirmed our marriage, albeit not the specific date, which is perfectly within their rights to do.”
The carriage jolted into motion, propelling them onward. “Forgive me, but I fail to see the problem.”
He adjusted his collar, seemingly attempting to allow for a breath of fresh air to reach his skin, to soothe his body. “The trouble is that once Markham learned of the existence of a marriage license on record, he began to tell his acquaintances and companions that you were coerced into this marriage. That it was not of your choosing, and that I compelled you to wed me.”
“When did you compel me?” she countered, but the moment the words escaped her lips, she noticed his eyes widen, and he cast a glance behind him. “Charity, unless you wish to become the talk of Markham, you must cease to voice such sentiments aloud.”
“Evidently, Markham has resolved to prove to the world that our marriage is built on false pretenses, and that you did not wish it, which could first ignite a scandal on both our heads and second…well, the scandal could compel us to dissolve the marriage, meaning you would be required to wed again. If he can convince individuals at the registry office that you were forced into this marriage, there may be inquiries. Many inquiries. People may delve into the particulars of our union, into our tale. Even if it does not lead to any scandal, the fallout could be such that our entire narrative is laid bare. It will become known that we misled the registry office, and our marriage could be declared null and void.”
“And then what?” she asked. “Would we be obliged to wait once more?”
“No,” he said, shaking his head as he regarded her as one would a naïve child. “If Markham can establish that we falsified our wedding date, then our marriage is indeed void. There would be a thorough inquiry, and maybe charges brought against me. The days when nobles could evade accountability, as they did two decades past, are long gone.”
“So I am in peril of being wed to Markham after all?”
“Nobody can compel you to wed Markham,” he rejoined.
She wished to point out that she had been made to marryhim, but her previous venture down that path had earned her such disapproval from him that she would not tread there again.
“So if Markham perseveres on this course, he may indeed uncover something? But you claimed that the man who wed us is loyal to you.”
“He is, and he shall remain steadfast. I possess certainty on that matter. But Markham could make inquiries as to our courtship. Regarding when we claimed to have met, contacting those who witnessed our vows, even speaking to our mothers, perchance.”
“Is it possible?” she inquired.
“I cannot tell you how probable it is. I doubt such a thing has ever transpired before, and I know not of anyone so determined to prove a marriage as false. In truth, never have I encountered anything like this.”
She glanced out the window, catching sight of the little village of Worcester fading from view, while Hector and Ambrose commenced their walk back to their abode.
The landscape transformed, replacing the quaint cottages that had surrounded them for hours with vast fields and groves of trees in the distance.
“What does Markham desire? I cannot comprehend this. All of this, and for what? To force a marriage he knows I do not want? Even if he could demonstrate that I was forced into this union, I did not wish to marry him either.”
Eammon clenched his jaw as he gazed out the window. Now he understood why, yet he held his tongue. Why?
“Tell me the truth,” she implored.
“Markham is a dreadful man. You questioned whether I was after your fortune. I was not. Yet he very well could be. He covets all that your father possessed. We must ensure that such a fate does not befall us.”
To Charity, this sounded but half the truth. There was certainly more hidden. Her father was not a wealthy gentleman, and what was her husband concealing? The mere notion that he harbored secrets stung her deeply, for she had believed they had reached an understanding, an agreement. Had it all been naught but an illusion?
Nevertheless, she knew there was nothing she could say or do to unravel his silence. For the moment, all that mattered was their mutual protection. But how?
As if he had divined her thoughts, he inhaled deeply. “What we must do is mimic what we have accomplished here today. We were here today as duke and duchess, presenting ourselves before all who reside on our lands, demonstrating that we are a contented couple, dedicated to our futures and to those of our subjects. We must do the same at our next gathering. There is a ball, Charity, to be held this very weekend. We should attend together.”
“Present ourselves as duke and duchess,” she agreed. “Show everyone that we are indeed a happy couple, delighted to be wed, so that we may quell all attempts by Markham to disparage us.”
A small smile flickered across his face. “I once thought you young and naïve, Charity, but now I see you possess understanding far beyond that which I credited you. You are a woman of great fortitude, far more formidable than I had ever surmised.”
