Page 17 of His Unexpected Duchess (Hearts of Whitmores #2)

CHAPTER 17

A s ridiculous as Joanna felt about her argument with her husband, she stood by her words.

She simply could not forget what she had witnessed near the kitchens. He had been flirting with a maid. Anytime she thought of forgiving him, she brought that to the forefront of her mind.

No matter how kind or generous he might have been during our ride.

She winced at the memory. Not because it was awful, not even because of the awkwardness that had occasionally hovered over them, but because it had been so splendid.

Much to her embarrassment, she had even dreamed about it the next evening. She replayed much of the same memory, but more moments came within, even a kiss where he brushed back her hair and stroked her cheek.

The following morning, she woke up flustered. She decided not to forgive him no matter how sweet he may have been in her dream.

But it grew a little more difficult when Eleanor walked into her room just as she was finishing her breakfast.

“We’re going shopping!” Eleanor announced with a cheery smile, clapping her hands together. “I was just talking with Nicholas. He’s made several private appointments for us both today. The dressmakers, the milliners, even the jewelers! How soon can you be ready?”

Joanna blinked while her maid spoke for her. “Oh, how thrilling! I’ll dress her at once.”

“But Aileen––”

“Your blue day dress would be best, I think. I can have you ready in just a moment, Your Grace. Oh, how lovely it will be to have a full wardrobe fit for a duchess.” The maid rambled on as she hurried into the next room, a large closet that Joanna herself knew was rather empty.

Hurrying over, Eleanor took her hand with a broad smile. “My brother told me to tell you that he is very sorry for waiting for so long. You’re welcome to shop as you desire, he said. Would you like to add another stop to the list? The stableboys are readying the carriage at his moment. I suspect we will be out all day. How fun this will be!”

What is Nicholas doing? Does he think new dresses will make me change my mind?

Joanna hardly knew what to think.

Over and over, she was told that day how she could do exactly as she pleased. Purchase new ribbons, new dresses—new everything. The dressmaker made clear that she was to have at least four riding habits. Four! She barely had four day dresses, which were about to be tripled once they were sewn.

It was overwhelming and exciting, to be certain. Joanna allowed herself to be swept about in beautiful and soft items. She’d never enjoyed such a luxury before.

Staying angry at Nicholas was difficult, especially when she found the note he had left for her at a tea house when they needed to fill their empty stomachs before continuing on to the next shop.

“Your Grace, your table was arranged following some particular instructions,” their server said.

Two squares of chocolate and a letter sat on a small silver platter.

“Goodness. What is Nicholas doing? You must read it at once,” Eleanor gushed when Joanna thought to put the paper away.

Joanna sighed. “Fine. But I’m not reading it to you.”

Eleanor didn’t seem to mind, instead treating herself to one of the chocolates.

Joanna grudgingly opened the letter, not knowing what to expect.

Joanna,

I have been remiss in ensuring that you have an updated wardrobe. We have accounts at all these shops, as you might have noticed. I do hope you’re spoiling yourself.

You deserve some fun for putting up with my tiresome self. Goods may not fix wrongs, but I hope they will at least soften you to our next conversation, whenever that may take place.

For any uncouth behavior, I do apologize. I am glad to have you as my wife.

Nicholas.

“Is that all?” Joanna asked, turning the note over in her hand.

Eleanor perked up. “What is it?”

“Nothing, I only…”

Joanna re-read the last line and frowned, not knowing what to make of the fluttering in her stomach. She wanted to quash it, but it wouldn’t go away.

Why would her husband say such a thing? Their conversation had not ended well the other day. It made no sense.

Perhaps he is a madman. Or… well, perhaps he is only human. What if he means what he has said to me? Can I believe any of it?

To her surprise, Joanna found herself wishing that she could believe it. Believe him. She wanted the charming husband who had taught her to ride a horse so easily. Who could hold her and make her feel special. It was difficult, unfortunately, to know whether there would be any of that in their future.

Though she let Eleanor lead the way into the next shop—a bookstore where she wished to hunt for sheet music—Joanna lost herself in her thoughts. She fingered the edges of the letter repeatedly throughout the day and found herself hoping that Nicholas would enjoy everything she had purchased.

Although she resolved to at least thank him for his kindness and inform him how much she had spent in case it was too much––regardless of what Eleanor had told her––she didn’t see him that day or even the following morning.

“Good morning!” Eleanor greeted her instead. “How good it is to see you up and about. Would you like to go riding?”

“I think that sounds very nice, but I’m not sure…” Joanna trailed off.

She had been rather sore after her first ride. And it would feel strange to go without Nicholas. She ignored the odd tightness in her chest.

“I would like to wait until I have my proper riding habits. I should receive one next week, I think. Perhaps a carriage ride instead? You can give me another driving lesson.”

Eleanor nodded. “That would be lovely.”

The two of them chattered throughout breakfast. Though Joanna often sat beside her sister-in-law, this time she sat across from her so she could watch the doorway. She couldn’t explain why, nor the way her eyes darted up every time a servant passed by.

It couldn’t be that she wished to see anyone in particular, after all.

“Your Grace?”

She looked up from where she was setting her napkin down. Eleanor had just stood up, ready to look for her favorite bonnet. They glanced at the side door, through which a footman had walked in to speak to Joanna.

“There is a guest at the door, Your Grace. Are you receiving callers?”

“Am I…?” Joanna looked to Eleanor for guidance, but the girl only shrugged. She was not the Duchess, after all. “I suppose I am. Do you mind?”

Eleanor shook her head. “We can ride afterward. I’m afraid I need more time to locate my bonnet, after all. Please help yourself. Richie, we won’t be receiving callers afterward, I think, so let’s clear the door. If that is what you want, Joanna?”

Joanna nodded. “Yes, please.”

She felt a nervous flutter in her chest. Who wished to speak with her? She tried to clear her head.

“Take our guest to the ground floor parlor, and I’ll be there in just a moment.”

Noticing her nerves, Eleanor paused in the doorway and turned toward her. “Joanna, would you like me to accompany you?”

“No, no. I’ll be all right. I have received callers before.” Only her stepmother. “It should not take very long.”

Joanna hoped it wasn’t a stranger, or else someone would have to do the introductions. Or perhaps it was her stepmother again?

But why would Beatrice return?

She paused in the hall to smooth down her dress and prayed that her hair still looked well put together. She inhaled deeply before entering the parlor, bracing herself for whatever awaited her inside.

And then she skidded to a halt. “Madeline?”

Her stepsister rose. “Joanna!” She blushed, glancing around anxiously. Fumbling with her hands, she moved forward and then halted, stepping back. “How good of you to receive me. I didn’t think… I wasn’t sure…”

“Certainly.” Joanna hesitated, closing the door behind her before stepping further into the room. “Shall I ring for tea?”

“Oh, no need. I shall only be here for a moment. But how kind of you. And you look well, really,” Madeline added earnestly.

There was something odd about her. She appeared wound up and was wringing her hands anxiously as if she couldn’t keep them still.

Joanna slowly sat down, studying her. “Please, sit down. I am glad to see you. I have wondered… how are you, Madeline?”

They had been sisters for years. They still were. However, as much as Joanna cared for Madeline, there had always been a barrier between them. Joanna had always blamed it on Beatrice. Yet, she couldn’t help but wonder if there was something more.

Her heart thudded in her chest, and she tried to convince herself that this was not the case. They were two unfortunate young ladies caught up in Beatrice’s web. Joanna had gotten out. Now, it was time for Madeline.

I hope.

“Mother said that I could visit briefly. My carriage is just outside, and the hour is still early, so I should not be at any disadvantage. I wished to bring you the invitation in person,” Madeline explained.

“Invitation?”

Madeline took a neatly folded piece of paper out of her pocket and stood up to hand it to her.

Joanna wondered what this was about. What invitation this could be. She couldn’t recall a time when her family had sent out any sort of invitations. There was her father’s wedding to Beatrice, and then her own wedding to Nicholas. Wedding breakfasts were typically larger so that more people could celebrate the good tidings.

Dear me, is Madeline…?

Joanna wiggled her nail beneath the wax seal and opened the invitation. It was beautifully made, with familiar calligraphy. She even smelled Beatrice’s familiar perfume.

As she read the invitation, she tensed up.

“You are hosting… a ball?” She looked up in bewilderment.

Madeline gave her a tight smile. “Indeed. In two weeks.”

“Isn’t that rather soon? Or has this been the plan for some time?”

Joanna racked her brain, trying to remember what she had learned about hosting balls. Most invitations were sent out three weeks before the event to ensure that there was enough time for the preparations, like buying new dresses and the like. But planning one required much more time.

Madeline shrugged. “We shall manage.”

Which means it will be set up in a rush. Beatrice must be running around London. Or rather, making London run to her to make such a thing happen. I can hardly imagine why.

“How… grand.” Joanna was too stunned to say more than that.

Madeline forced a smile. “Isn’t it?”

“You are not thrilled, are you?” Joanna asked, studying her carefully. “What is the reason for such an affair? Your mother has hardly hosted more than the occasional salon since she married my father. What has changed her mind?”

A heavy breath escaped her stepsister’s lips. Her eyes were trained on the floor before she grudgingly raised them. There was a pallor to her cheeks that surprised Joanna.

Unable to help herself, Joanna rose and moved over to sit beside her stepsister, taking her hand in her own.

Something was making Madeline very uncomfortable. But she had come to Joanna for a reason, and so Joanna waited quietly for her to say what’d been weighing on her.

“Mother wishes me to be wed. Soon. She fears that I will not marry this Season. Before long, I shall be on the shelf and an embarrassment to her.” Madeline blinked rapidly as if to hold back her tears. “She believes that a ball will be the perfect opportunity to find me the right gentleman.”

Frowning, Joanna sank back into the settee they were on. Yes, a ball was a perfect place to meet someone. A young lady such as Madeline was pretty, fairly wealthy, and had a good reputation.

Countless bachelors would wish to dance with her if given the opportunity, I suppose. But what does Beatrice really expect from this? That Madeline will have a proposal by the end of the evening? She hardly allows her to go out and mingle with the ton. And if she was willing to marry Madeline off to a rakish duke, who else might she be willing to marry her off to?

“I don’t understand,” Joanna said slowly, still trying to piece it together. “Our family has never hosted a ball, and now she suddenly wishes to host one for you, and I am invited?”

Madeline attempted a smile, patting the invitation in Joanna’s lap. “Both you and your husband are invited. Mother insists that you attend. She added that on the bottom note, in case you missed it.”

“Oh, I saw it,” Joanna responded dryly. “I just don’t understand it.”

A loud sigh escaped Madeline’s lips, and her shoulders slumped. “Mother never makes any sense, does she? I still don’t understand the way her mind works—and that’s after living with her my whole life. But it shall be a grand ball. Your father has permitted her to spend as she desires. I fear it will look somewhat garish. She wants all manner of entertainment, you know. But she wants me to wed, and she believes that… Well, she believes that since my sister has married a duke.” She gave Joanna a gentle nudge. “Why can’t I? Or why can’t I find someone better?”

There it is. I have never been useful until now.

Joanna found herself relaxing as she finally made sense of her stepsister’s odd visit. And it made her glad to see Madeline. Not just because she had missed her—something she had not realized before—but because Madeline also understood the importance of the situation.

“My marriage to the Duke of Henley has already increased our family’s social standing,” Joanna said softly. “Everyone will know us. Know you . You could attract any sort of suitor, Madeline. I knew this, I think, and yet…”

“Exactly. We did not know how it would be used. My mother has her plans, and we are caught up in them once again. But perhaps we can still enjoy ourselves,” Madeline added eagerly. “I am sure it will go well. We can have a splendid time. I have missed you, and I would like to see you again. I’m sure your father would like to see you as well.”

Joanna paused. “Has he asked about me?”

“Not in so many words, but I believe he misses you so much,” Madeline said.

Which means not at all.

“You are too kind.” Joanna pulled back, finding her feelings caught up in her thoughts. She hesitated before rising to her feet. She plastered on a smile and then told Madeline, “I shall attend the ball, as your mother insists. I cannot promise you that my husband will join me, however.”

Standing up, Madeline nodded. “I understand. Thank you very much, Joanna.” She reached forward to squeeze her hands—a generous token of kindness. “Thank you, and take care. I look forward to seeing you soon.”

“Three weeks,” Joanna noted before seeing her out.

Madeline was gone, and Eleanor was momentarily forgotten, since Joanna needed to think. She paced the halls with the invitation in hand as she tried to imagine attending her stepmother’s ball.

A ball. At my home. My father’s house, that is. It hasn’t been home in what feels like so long. I cannot believe they’re hosting something so grand, after all this time. What will it be like to return there even for an evening?

Her mind spun as she tried to imagine going back to Crampton Manor. She recalled playing in the closed-up ballroom often as a child, sneaking her doll in there to twirl her about while singing off-key. Then, her governess would take her there and show her the dance steps to prepare her for the day she’d have to dance with eligible bachelors. She’d had high hopes back then, until she had met Beatrice and the woman had proclaimed that balls were a waste of money.

At least, it was a waste of money when I was still living in the house. It’s just fine the moment I leave. If she had done anything for Madeline, then she would have been forced to do the same for me. I cannot be surprised…

“Joanna?”

“Oh!” She jumped, finding Nicholas right in front of her. Heat bloomed on her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there.”

He glanced over his shoulder at the long hall before turning back to her and giving her an odd look. “Are you well? I called your name three times. You might have run into me without noticing. Is something wrong?”

He seemed to mean it.

She shook her head. “Not at all.”

His sharp gaze dropped to her hands, where she still held the invitation. “Are you certain naught is amiss?”

“Well, not exactly,” she sighed.

As his eyes flitted between her face and her hand, she grudgingly handed him the invitation.

“Ah, a ball. How kind of your family to invite us. We should certainly…” he trailed off as he read the personalized postscript for her.

Do make certain to attend. I insist. Do not embarrass our family. – Lady Ely

A dark look crossed his face. “What a… strange way to invite you,” he muttered. His gaze slowly rose to meet hers, and he took his time studying her before speaking up. “Do you wish to attend?”

“Not particularly,” she admitted. “But I must. Madeline was just here. She explained that my stepmother wishes to find her a suitor soon and have her married before the Season’s end. It is no surprise to me, and I cannot say that my status would not make a difference for her. She deserves a chance at a good life, Nicholas, and I find myself compelled to attend. I told her I would.”

“You wish to help your stepmother?”

“My stepsister ,” she couldn’t help but correct him. Then, she hastily corrected herself. “My family. They have raised me, and I must return the favor. I shall attend, but I will not ask you to accompany me, Nicholas. You don’t need to go.”

“ We shouldn’t go,” he corrected her. “That’s hardly a kind suggestion. She’s practically demanding your presence—and remember, you no longer have to listen to her. Why don’t we amuse ourselves with other entertainments and leave the ball to the others?”

She was shaking her head before he finished his question. “I’m sorry, but I can’t. I owe Madeline.”

It could have been her here—she could have been free of her mother. I took that from her even though I knew she would not have wanted this marriage. But Nicholas has not been that awful, and Madeline would have made peace with her situation as I have.

“What if I asked you not to go?”

“Don’t you dare.” Joanna raised her gaze to his, flushing when she saw that he was merely curious. “That is, I wish you wouldn’t. I intend to attend this ball, Nicholas. It… It is important to me. Even if you won’t be there, I shall attend.”

Tilting his head, Nicholas gave her a long, thoughtful look. She wished she understood what was going on in his head.

“Very well,” he relented gravely. “We will both attend. You may let your family know.”

She could hardly believe it. “What? Really?”

“Joanna, I would never leave you alone with such people, even if they are family,” he told her firmly.

Her lips parted in surprise. Though she knew how uncomfortable her family could make her, how neglectful and mean they could be, she hadn’t realized that her husband had noticed. She thought she had hidden it well enough from him.

She stared as his lips curled into a slight smirk. “When I said I would protect you, I didn’t just mean from horses.”

Her heart thumped loudly in her chest. She caught the teasing note in his words, but she knew he had meant them—she could see it in his eyes.

He wished to protect her.

A blush crawled up her cheeks before she could think to try and hide it. Inhaling deeply, she hoped he didn’t hear her loud gulp.

There was a hum in her blood that made her wish to reach out to him. To thank him, to hug him, to do something to make him smile.

Yet, she could hardly move.

It was Nicholas who stepped back and offered a small bow and a quiet farewell. He appeared rather pleased with himself as he retreated down the hall.

His words kept replaying over and over in her head, stirring more questions that bounced around in her mind in a never-ending cycle.