Page 7 of A Deal with an Artistic Lady (Marriage Deals #2)

The wedding party moved through to the dining room, where the staff had laid out an abundance of small cakes, assorted breads, buttered toast, hams and chocolate pastries. Nobody spoke as they took their places; the tradition of expected practices rolling out, void of any enthusiasm. Hannah felt extreme tension in her shoulders, coiled tightly from the knowledge that the Duchesses’ crude stare was still constantly upon her. She placed some items on her plate to show willing but found herself quite unable to consume anything, opting to push it about her plate with a fork.

Evelyn attempted to initiate uplifting conversation within the small group and Emmeline cheerfully engaged but the two of them were up against a wall of tension, created chiefly by Anne, whose flinty conduct put everyone on edge.

Evelyn exhausted conversation about the pleasant weather and the length of journey between London and the Montwood country estate. Sophia assisted by complimenting Hannah’s dress and the array of food. After those most basic of topics were covered, there was not much more for anybody to say and the sound of cutlery on ceramic plates was quite uncomfortable for all the people gathered.

The staff revealed the wedding cake – a beautifully white-iced fruit cake that smelled rich with brandy. As all members of the wedding party were served a slice, Hannah forced herself to eat a morsel in good faith. Somehow, it seemed to her that if she should not try some, she may be damning her marriage from the start. It was a symbolic taste and was delicious, but she had no appetite with her mother-in-law’s caustic gaze upon her.

‘We shall have slices sent to your cousins, Hannah,’ Evelyn commended. ‘And ensure there is some kept aside for when your sister Clara, and her husband, Lord James Ashworth return from their travels.’

Hannah merely smiled weakly at her mother, shrinking into her chair hoping Anne would not say anything regarding her family that might humiliate Hannah in front of everybody. The moment thankfully passed without drama and as pleasantries circulated regarding the high quality of the cake, Hannah realised that the end of the wedding feast also symbolised the end of her time at home. A new home awaited her and she would be expected to bid her farewell as soon as the meal was finished. This almost made her want to recall her food and spend copious amounts of time eating it, simply to delay the inevitable.

The energy levels rose in the household as the departing group readied themselves for their carriages. Hannah embraced both her parents – her father holding her a moment longer than usual, which formed a knot in Hannah’s throat and her mother choking back tears as Hannah attempted to dissect whether they were predominantly of pride or of loss, and concluded it was likely a combination.

Approaching Sophia to hug her goodbye, Hannah felt more emotional than she had with her parents. Sophia knew the inner workings of Hannah’s mind; she was her lifelong confidante and did not know how her life would look without her readily accessible on a daily basis. Already, Sophia’s eyes had filled with tears and as Hannah held her best friend to her, she felt the wet of Sophia’s tears upon her neck. Hannah closed her eyes, breathing deep, resolving that she should not cry and show weakness to the Montwood family.

Caleb watched the two friends from across the hall and once again felt that nag of guilt; that he was the issue causing these two close friends to part. There was clearly a strong bond between them and truly, Caleb did not wish to stand in the way of their companionship, but he recognised a marital union always meant changes in relationships and knew that the greater purpose of Hannah’s commitment to him as his wife outweighed any sisterly connection.

Reinforcing this priority, Caleb stepped forward as Hannah released from Sophia’s embrace and he offered his arm for Hannah to take. She did so, dutifully and followed his lead out to the waiting Barouche-Landau.

Anne and Emmeline’s coach departed ahead of the wedded couple, much to Hannah’s relief. Emmeline said farewell to the Haworth household with thanks and warmth, compensating for the lack of gratitude expressed by her mother, who left with only a nod and barely audible ‘thank you,’ to Evelyn and Vincent. Hannah was happy to see Anne leave but it only worried her more that they had the same destination.

Lucy helped Hannah to arrange her skirts on the seat and floor of the carriage comfortably for the journey and ducked back out. Hannah looked out at her family gathered on the steps waving her off. She waved once and in order to avoid breaking into tears, focused on the road ahead, telling herself not to look at them any longer. It suddenly felt all too real, disconcerting and crushingly sad to her.

Once Caleb had completed all obligations and pleasantries, he sat beside Hannah in the carriage, leaving a wide gap between them. The horses were bid to move and they began their journey; leaving the Haworth residence behind them in the distance.

The sunshine from earlier that morning had faded to grey clouds and the only sound was the rhythmic clopping of the horses' hooves on the cobblestones and the trundle of the wheels as they navigated the streets. Hannah sat rigid with tension, unaware whether it was expected they should hold a conversation or remain formal.

Having travelled a few minutes in relative silence, Hannah reached the conclusion that the latter was likely, when suddenly, the Duke cleared his throat and turned his body to face Hannah.

‘I feel it is only fair to share with you-’ he paused, his eyes flicking uncertainly over her face ‘that our marriage is purely an obligatory arrangement.’

Hannah blinked at him, not knowing how she should respond.

‘Our fathers arranged our match and we are honouring their agreement,’ Caleb clarified.

Hannah nodded, just once, to show she understood.

‘You are free to pursue your own interests and spend your time as you wish, fulfilling the duties of Duchess expected of you when required to do so.’ Caleb bowed his head slightly, looking up at her through his eyebrows.

‘Of course, Your Grace,’ Hannah agreed very quietly.

‘Er – Caleb. You may call me by my first name,’ Caleb’s gaze set upon her face as though he were trying to gauge if his words had upset her. Replaying them in his head, they sounded sterner and colder than he’d intended. But they were out now – there was nothing he could do to soften the blow.

Hannah was determined that he should not see how those words affected her. Though they fully enforced the understanding that their union was purely a formality and Caleb had married her exclusively to satisfy an agreement. She felt pathetic now – that she may have entertained the idea of there being any tender feeling between them earlier in the day. Her frivolity and folly regarding the sentimental ceremony now only brought her shame.

Caleb watched as Hannah’s face fell – when he had started to speak, there was a glimmer of anticipation in her expression, but upon hearing his message, she shrunk into herself and he noted that her small hands in her lap tensed up so that the pale tendons were visible in the dim light of the carriage. He felt a desire to take back his words and reframe them – in his bid to set boundaries for them both, his declaration held the unfortunate tone of reprimand and that had not been his intention.

In a futile attempt to engage fondly, he commented ‘The cake was very good.’

Hannah looked bewildered by the remark that seemed out of place following his previous statement. She blinked innocently at him and nodded by way of admission. There was an awkwardness between them that Caleb did not know how to remedy.

The only way Caleb knew to repair the situation was to turn away from it and move on. He passed the rest of the journey by looking out at the street from the window on his side, aware of Hannah’s embarrassment bubbling away beside him, but feeling incapable of rectifying his unintended rebuke. He tried to move his mind onto other matters. The wedding was now done; his new bride would be installed at his house and their new normality could commence. There was much to be done.

Hannah echoed Caleb’s stance, staring out of the window on her side, angling her shoulders away from him so that he would not see how her eyes involuntarily filled with tears. She begged them not to drop – if she should be forced to reach for her handkerchief, he would certainly become aware of her distress. She did not want his impression of her to be one of weakness or dramatic tendencies, for that was not the sort of woman she was. However, it seemed he lacked interest entirely in learning what sort of woman she was or was not, and it was precisely this issue that summoned up the tears Hannah held back. She did not expect love nor romance, but civil conversation and perhaps a friendship had at least seemed possible until the moment Caleb had admonished her. She barely noticed the streets of London beyond her carriage nor observed the grand street they turned into just as the carriage pulled up outside an ostentatious town-house.

‘We are here,’ Caleb announced coldly and Hannah took a deep breath.