Page 3 of Her Lion of a Duke (Dukes & Beasts #3)
“It is a joyous occasion for all in London.
Yes, the Dervaux musicale has come to an end, and we may all live another year without paying it any mind.
One has to question why Lord Dervaux would continue to humiliate his daughters by putting them on display in such a manner, but love comes in many forms, and I can only assume that this is somehow the way he shows his.
Other strange ways of showing affection include surprise engagements, of which London has known thousands. There has, however, never been one quite like that of Lady Cecilia Punton and His Grace, the Duke of Pridefield.
For a lady who has always shunned Society, thinking herself above it all, she certainly knows how to play the part when it is convenient for her.
There have been many questions about how the match came to be and whether there was any seduction involved, but I believe in something far simpler than that.
They were simply so roused by the performance that night that they were swept up in the romance and had to confess their love for each other. The musicale was, of course, most rousing.”
Cecilia slammed the sheet down on the table and sighed, burying her face in her hands as her family ate their breakfast.
“You cannot be surprised,” her aunt said gently. “The two of you were not even courting.”
“No, but we have known each other for a very long time. You would think that the ton would see it coming, especially when we are hardly ever with other people.”
“Regardless, a courtship would have been more proper. I wish that you had asked me beforehand, Cecilia. I am happy for you—truly, I am. But there will be questions that I do not have answers for.”
“There is nothing much to say. We have known each other for a long time and decided that marriage would be beneficial for both of us.”
Her aunt eyed her narrowly. “I do not want to ask this, but I must. Is there anything that I should know about?”
“What do you mean?”
“Do not play coy. Did you and His Grace do anything that I should be aware of?”
“No, Aunt Margaret. I can assure you that nothing untoward has happened. We simply had a conversation, and we believe this is the right thing to do. Think about what this will do for Clara.”
Clara, who had been sitting quietly while eating some fruit, finally raised her head to look at them. “Do not tell me that you are marrying for my sake.”
“Of course not, but you must admit that it will help. Perhaps I was simply tired of making things more difficult for you?”
“And if that is the case,” Aunt Margaret said softly, “then it is very noble of you. I am not angry, please know that. I simply want to be certain that this is what you want.”
Cecilia smiled weakly, twisting the ring around her finger. It was an heirloom, Leonard had explained, and clearly cost a fortune. She simply hoped that she would not lose it.
She did not know what she wanted. She had been grateful that Leonard had given her time to decide, but that was simply not meant to be. The moment she returned to the gathering, she heard the whispers.
Clara was never going to marry, not when her cousin was so awful. The Punton name was at risk because of how Cecilia behaved. The Duke of Pridefield would never take a wife as long as she was there. Gentlemen could not stand to be within ten meters of her. She was going to ruin everything.
And so she accepted the proposal.
She was not a fool. She knew that Leonard was the best option she would ever have, and that if he decided he wanted a wife, he would have found one very easily. It was not an opportunity that she could allow to slip through her fingers, so she did not.
And now she was to be a duchess.
She aired such grievances to Beatrice, who had invited her to tea that afternoon.
Beatrice had made the cakes herself, and though Cecilia ate one to show her appreciation, she could not eat anything else. She did not know what to do with herself.
“I wish I had been in attendance,” Beatrice sighed wistfully. “It must have been wonderful.”
“It was not. It was a rushed affair, and there is no romance to be had.”
“Come now, Cecilia. Anyone can see that the two of you share something.”
“Yes, friendship. Why is that so impossible to believe?”
“Because I have eyes. You have always appreciated my honesty, and this is me telling you the truth. This is a good match, and you will be happy once you stop thinking like this.”
“I cannot help it. I never focused during my etiquette lessons, nor did I ever think to pay attention when learning about the duties of a duchess. I never expected to be one!”
“And now, here you are. You can regret not paying attention, or you can make the effort now.”
Cecilia blinked. Beatrice had always been the softest of her friends, never truly having much of a thought about anything until they were alone together. She was easy to like, but that came with her not having many opinions.
Until it came to her match, it appeared.
“You are not yourself.”
“Nor are you,” Beatrice countered. “Besides, now that I am to be alone, it is time that I spoke my mind.”
“Yes, I should like to see you find a husband like that.”
“It has worked for you.”
“Yes, for it just so happens that I know a gentleman who does not need a perfect wife.”
“Then I shall be just as fortunate. Regardless, now is not the time to discuss my prospects, but yours. How are the wedding preparations going?”
“It will be the smallest of affairs, so there truly is not much to do. The banns have been read, and within the month, I shall become a wife.”
“You do not seem very excited.”
“Because I am not. It will merely be another day, and then I will return home and be done with it. Truly, there is not much more to say.”
Beatrice rolled her eyes, biting into another one of her glazed biscuits. “If you insist. Have you told Emma and Dorothy yet?”
“I have written letters, but I have not yet sent them. I am not happy with what was written.”
“They should be arriving in town soon. I believe Dorothy will be here within the week. You ought to invite them to your wedding.”
“I do not believe there will be any guests. We shall say our vows and leave.”
Cecilia was certain of it, but the morning of her wedding day, she was being laced into her corsets and thinking of everything and nothing all at once.
Her friends had indeed arrived, and they had been invited and had accepted. She looked into the mirror and frowned, wondering why she was so disappointed that they would be there.
She loved her friends; she always had. But something about them seeing her enter a fake marriage caused her a great deal of unease.
She was not going to pretend to love Leonard, and if her friends asked, she would tell them precisely what had happened, but it felt as though she had disappointed them.
She had always been headstrong, determined to be true to herself and to never bend simply because a man wanted her to. Her friends had always admired her for it, even if they did not understand, and now she could not help but feel as though she had let them down.
“You look lovely,” Clara said softly as she entered the room.
“I look miserable.”
“Then perhaps you should smile?” she suggested. “I know that this is rather rushed, but it was your choice. Surely you are happy about it?”
“I am happy enough. I’ll have security and freedom, and that is far more than most young ladies have. Even so, I feel like I am not being the person I am meant to be. Does that make sense?”
“Of course. None of us is ever truly able to be who we are, but that is the price we must pay. Given all of the luxuries we have in return, it is worth it, would you not agree?”
Cecilia looked at herself again. Her frown aside, she did look lovely. Her gown was plain, but it was a perfect fit, and she liked it far more than she would have if she had one of the more elaborate gowns designed by the modiste.
Ignoring how she felt, she did at least look like a bride. Nobody would know that anything was amiss, as long as she played the part well.
She took a deep breath, knowing that she had never pretended to be someone she was not.
The wedding came and went without much ceremony. There was no fanfare, no kiss, and hardly any applause. She said her vows, and Leonard said his, and then they were pronounced man and wife.
It was strange to look at her friend and know that he was her husband. He was not the worst choice, but she had never expected to have a husband at all.
During the brief breakfast afterward, chatter rippled around them. Mercifully, none of it was about the wedding. She never truly enjoyed hearing idle gossip, but it was a welcome distraction at that moment.
“Congratulations, Your Grace,” many guests said to her, and she did the dutiful thing and thanked them each time.
There were, of course, whispers of what their marriage truly meant.
Neither of them wanted love, and so they had found each other.
It was not unheard of, and there was not very much judgment passed about it, which Cecilia was thankful for.
It meant that Clara’s reputation was restored and that her actions would no longer harm her.
Leonard did not say anything to her. She did not mind, as she did not say anything to him either. When she looked at him, her words lodged in her throat.
She wished that they could speak to one another as they always had, but something had already changed between them. She hoped that it would improve with time, but she had no way of knowing for certain, and it made her chest ache.
His hand brushed against hers while reaching for a cup, and they both froze. Their eyes met, and she wondered what he was thinking. The moment stretched on a little too long, and Cecilia pulled away with a polite smile.
At last, Leonard cleared his throat.
“You did well,” he commented. “And you look nice.”
“Thank you,” she replied. “You did well, too. We are rather good at acting, eh?”
“Indeed. Do you wish to stay here much longer?”
“I do not mind. Will we be returning to the townhouse?”
“Not immediately. We will be expected to be on our honeymoon, so it might be better if we go to the manor. It is not far.”
“I know. I have been there before.”
She had meant to be playful, but the words had left her lips in a dismissive tone.
“Very well. We shall leave soon. Perhaps you might wish to speak with your friends? I know that I would like to speak with the Duke of Lupton.”
Cecilia nodded, and a short while later, she was with all three of her friends, and they were talking and laughing as if nothing had changed. That was until Dorothy gave her a knowing look.
“It is about time that the two of you admitted your feelings.”
Emma nudged her, but Dorothy did not seem to care.
“What do you mean?” Cecilia asked.
“We have all known since that house party all those years ago that there was something between the two of you.”
“No, you have not. There has never been anything to notice, for we are friends. You all know that I never intended to marry.”
“No,” Emma said gently, “but you must admit that, if your hand were forced, you would have chosen His Grace.”
“He is the least objectionable man, yes, but that does not mean I am pleased about any of this.”
“Then why would you do it?” Beatrice asked. “I must now fend for myself, and to make matters worse, all three of my friends have married dukes. I will never live up to such expectations!”
“Bea, I have not done this deliberately. I was thinking of Clara and how she must marry well, too. That was never going to be possible while I was here, with such a reputation. If I could have avoided this, I would have. Besides, you are more than capable of marrying well. You need only try.”
Her friend did not seem to believe her, but it was the truth.
Beatrice was beautiful and kind, and she was incredibly talented, as well as passionate about her interests. Still, she had never truly been able to speak to gentlemen because she thought herself unworthy.
Cecilia hoped that would change soon.
“I shall be going to Pridefield Manor,” she added. “We will return to London after our honeymoon, so you do not need to miss me too much.”
The ladies laughed, but Emma seemed to be lost in thought. Cecilia gave her a look, prompting her to speak.
“Has His Grace spoken to you about his situation?” she asked.
“About his need for a wife? Yes, that tends to happen when one is accused of murder and has to fix his reputation.”
“No, I mean… Oh, it truly is not for me to say.”
“What do you mean?”
“The Duke has told my husband about some letters he has read, but I had not thought much of it until you announced your engagement.”
The words rang in Cecilia’s ears.
Emma’s husband, the Duke of Lupton, was Leonard’s greatest friend, so it was no surprise that Leonard would tell him about such a thing. What surprised her, however, was the fact that she knew nothing about the said letters.
However, she intended to find out about them.