Page 4 of His Unexpected Duchess (Hearts of Whitmores #2)

CHAPTER 4

N icholas had another sleepless night.

It shouldn’t have been of concern, since he’d spent the last eight months hardly sleeping, let alone resting. His body no longer felt like his own. With the title sitting heavy on his shoulders, he could hardly sit or stand comfortably. Sleeping was nearly impossible.

And yet the night had still felt different, more so than he thought it should. He hadn’t even been able to close his eyes or stay abed.

Instead, he had paced about his room and even pulled a sheet of paper and quill out of his desk drawer. Writing in the moonlight had been somewhat difficult, but he didn’t want to light any candles either.

“Welcome, Your Grace, to Crampton Manor.” The footman was young and jittery as he bowed and then bowed again as if he wished to try again. “You are expected––I mean, that is––”

Another servant dressed in neater gray attire lined with green that matched the emblem on the wall joined them. He murmured to the footman to move aside before presenting himself in a much steadier voice.

“Your Grace, welcome. Please, do come in.”

Nicholas hesitated as he always did whenever someone addressed him by his new title. But he still needed another minute to pull himself together.

One minute he was pacing about his room impatiently, scribbling something that he couldn’t even remember on a piece of paper—a list of his estates or outstanding bills or servants with whom he had to talk about one thing or another, probably—and now he was here… at Crampton Manor.

Right. The Cramptons. The Earl of Ely. Blast it.

It was all coming back to him now as he stepped inside, the door closing behind him as his fate was sealed.

“Your Grace! What a delight it is to see you. I almost thought…” Lady Ely trailed off, her face paling as if she realized too late that she was about to say something rude.

Nicholas paused in the hall, waiting for her to continue. Not eager to deal with this situation, he wasn’t about to let her off the hook.

She stammered for a minute before plastering on a smile. “We are glad to see you. I presume you are here for my husband?”

There came the temptation to turn on his heel and leave. Back into the harsh sunlight, back to the street, and all the way back home, where he could hide in familiar surroundings.

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. All I wanted was a perfunctory marriage to a proper lady. Now, what am I doing? What will happen?

At one point in his life, Nicholas had enjoyed not knowing what would happen next. He liked guessing and changing things up to have his world filled with endless surprises. Until, of course, one surprise changed everything for the worst.

This past year had been about avoiding every possible surprise because all of a sudden, there were too many weights on his shoulders. He couldn’t risk dropping a single responsibility. Doing so could cause more change and more risks and more problems. It left him struggling to hold on to everything.

There wasn’t time for surprises.

Like this one.

He hadn’t planned on coming here today to speak with the Earl of Ely.

What else could he do after he and the man’s daughter were caught in a compromising position? She shouldn’t have shown up at his house unchaperoned. He shouldn’t have spoken with her. She shouldn’t have fled the study, and he shouldn’t have followed her or stopped her fall. There were so many things that should have been avoided.

Except none of them had been avoided, and now here he was.

Something caught his attention before he could answer Lady Ely. He didn’t know what it was that drew his attention to the stairs, but suddenly there she was. Joanna Crampton.

He would recognize her anywhere after meeting her once. He would have remembered her if they had met before, but he had heard plenty the previous day––she had yet to have a Season, to officially come out. And yet she still felt the need to escape this very house and these very people.

After hearing Lady Ely speak, he couldn’t blame her.

No, I can. I can blame her for all of this. I should have been able to make my choice And I did make my choice, which was not her. But here we are. Trapped.

He frowned at the sight of her standing on the stairs, clutching the banister as if she couldn’t stay upright on her feet without support. He saw her pretty throat bob as she swallowed audibly. Her deep green eyes landed on him, and he tried to gather his thoughts.

Annoyed. Angry, even, about being trapped like this. That was how he was supposed to feel. Nothing more and nothing less. Surely that was the only reason why his heart was beating so quickly.

“Your Grace?” Lady Ely frowned at him before following his gaze. He heard her huff. “Joanna, what are you doing there? Go back to your bedchamber at once. This doesn’t concern you.”

“Truly?” Joanna murmured dryly, still staring at him.

Lady Ely made a disgruntled noise as if she was about to scold her.

The look in Joanna’s eyes showed that she was just as upset as Nicholas felt—as they all felt. His heart pattered as he found himself interjecting on her behalf, as though to protect her.

“Lady Ely.” He grudgingly tore his gaze away from her. “Thank you. I would like very much to meet with the Earl if he is available.”

The look on his face must have been persuasive enough because Lady Ely quickly bobbed a curtsy and offered to show him around.

The butler was excused, and Nicholas found himself leaving Joanna behind on the stairs to follow her stepmother. The young woman never moved; he could feel her eyes on him as he left.

Once she was out of view, it was easier to forget her pretty features and brash attitude. She could be charming, he supposed, but she was more trouble than anything else.

For all I know, she plotted all of this. Her stepmother and sister––they may not be blood, but they are still family. I must be going mad, thinking I need to come to her defense. Anything that happened here is on her shoulders. None of this was my fault. If there is a victim here, it is me.

Nicholas counted the steps to the study by counting everything he needed to do that day. Already he had canceled three appointments, since he didn’t know how long his meeting with the Earl would take. His secretary was also on his way over, since they all knew what the outcome of this meeting would be.

Right, hold on to that anger.

Managing business was not his forte, especially not marriage contracts. He hadn’t ever planned on taking a wife until approximately three months ago, when his secretary had mentioned something about his progeny and the family.

Nicholas remembered that day. He hadn’t heard much else of the conversation and forgot to eat supper. His sister had found him pacing back and forth in the library. A tray was in her hands, and he realized she was tired. She had spent the whole day with the staff.

It wasn’t out of the ordinary for her to help, of course, as the only woman in the family. Their mother had long since died. But only then had Nicholas realized that Eleanor needed a respite. And his household needed a mistress. Which meant he needed to marry.

That was something he had sat on without saying a word until the first evening he’d spent with Eleanor in London.

“You are… lonely here, are you not?” he had asked awkwardly.

She’d been eyeing the fish distrustfully before glancing up at him. “What do you mean?”

“Well, it’s quiet.”

“Everything is quiet,” she pointed out.

It went without saying that they had let go of half of the servants, since there were only two of them and they didn’t want too much attention or activity.

Nodding, Nicholas had put down his fork. “Still, it makes me think. I won’t force you to join the Season, Eleanor, but I wish you would. And I intend to marry before the Season ends.”

She had stared at him for a long time. “Do you really?”

“Does that bother you?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Does it excite you?” he asked hesitantly. “Perhaps it would be nice to have another lady in the house. It would free up more of your time. I haven’t heard you play the piano in some time. Nor the harp.”

Wincing, Eleanor pushed her plate away and shook her head. “I don’t care for music these days. But I suppose that would be nice. If she is nice, I mean.”

Nicholas had waited for her to say more, but she did not. The dishes were cleared away, and they’d wrapped up supper. He had lost his appetite. He supposed that she would most likely sneak down to the kitchens later for some fresh bread. She always did that of late, finding solace in food rather than music.

After that conversation, Nicholas had mentioned marriage at his club, and soon after, Joanna Crampton had barged into his home, and now he was in her father’s study.

Lord Ely was of average height, with thick gray hair, narrow eyes behind large spectacles, and a rather sharp nose. He greeted Nicholas with a terse smile.

They both glanced at Lady Ely, who had seated herself in the corner. She shifted with an impassive expression on her face, letting them know that she would not leave.

For a moment, Nicholas couldn’t help but feel pity for their daughters. They had to put up with this impossible woman daily. Maybe this was why Joanna had felt so desperate.

He rolled his shoulders before focusing on the Earl.

“Thank you again for taking the time to meet with me, My Lord. I believe we all know why I have come here today.” He cast another glance at Lady Ely before turning back to the Earl.

“Yes, yes. Something to do with Joanna, I believe. I have a hard time believing that she was discovered in your house.”

Nicholas’s lips twitched. “Indeed, she was. While I would like to reassure you that I have not harmed a hair on your daughter’s head, I understand how it must have looked to my visitors and staff. I would be remiss not to make amends and salvage her reputation.”

Steepling his fingertips on the desk, the Earl peered at him curiously. “You wish to wed her then.”

Nicholas braced himself. “Indeed, and the sooner the better. I have an appointment with the Archbishop this evening to obtain a special license. In two days, we could be wed at St. Matthew’s.”

“But that is too long!”

They both ignored the Countess’s protest.

The Earl nodded slowly as he considered. “You have met my Joanna? Before the other day, I mean?”

“Before yesterday? No, I did not have the pleasure. My responsibilities keep me busy,” Nicholas replied.

“My daughter is busy as well. Both of them.” The Earl glanced at his wife and pursed his lips. “I must admit, I find myself reluctant. I have heard your name bandied about town, Your Grace, and I wish to secure my daughter’s future. With your past…”

Nicholas balled his hands into fists at his sides and exhaled slowly. He took a moment to compose himself. Would his past never leave him be? Was that all he was?

“Are you refusing my offer?” he asked, at last.

There was tension in the room that he attempted to ignore. None of them were thrilled to be here, he could see that. He shifted and cursed himself inwardly, not wanting to show weakness.

Would he ever be comfortable again?

The Earl leaned back in his chair with a heavy sigh, while his wife made a strangled noise. “I cannot, as we all know. Joanna deserves security, and after what happened, it is important that she marry before the week is out. Two days will be sufficient. I suppose we will need the time to prepare everything and hammer out a marriage contract.”

“My man of business should arrive within the hour. We’ve already set up terms that I believe you will find most accommodating,” Nicholas reassured him.

“How wise of you to move so quickly. My dear, call for Joanna, would you?” As Lady Ely left the study, Lord Ely turned back to Nicholas. “Joanna’s dowry is not large, but I am confident you will not be disappointed.”

Disappointment is one word to describe this situation. I can think of a dozen more—all of them frustrating.

Still, Nicholas shook his head. “Thank you, but I have no need of a dowry.”

“I insist. At the very least, we could put it into an account for her or her children,” the Earl reasoned.

Her children now meant his children, Nicholas realized vaguely. His brain swam.

Grasping the arms of his chair, he tried to say that he didn’t mean for that to happen. Hadn’t Joanna mentioned a marriage of convenience? He hadn’t used that wording, but it was roughly the same. He didn’t mean for them to be anything but husband and wife on paper.

And yet didn’t he intend to have children? To secure Eleanor’s future?

With his head spinning, he didn’t trust himself to speak. He listened numbly as the older man talked about the terms he might add to the marriage contract. A simple document, to be certain.

It didn’t take long for their secretaries to arrive and start discussing the matter. As Nicholas had predicted, the marriage contract was sufficient. They added a special clause about the dowry before signing it. And with that, their matter of business was concluded.

Nicholas stood up, feeling the walls closing in on him. He could hardly breathe, and he knew he had to get out.

“Thank you for your time, My Lord.”

“Your Grace. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, and let me be the first to welcome you to the family. Would you like to stay and have tea with us?”

“I’m afraid I have other appointments.”

Nicholas offered his farewells and hastened out of the room.

Focusing on putting one foot in front of the other, he rounded the corner and found the front door. He held his breath as though worried someone might try to stall him before he could make his escape.

The footman appeared again, stammering as he opened the door for him. But no one stopped him as he reached the top step and inhaled deeply. Even the glare of the sun was welcome right then.

Nicholas tugged at his cravat. Muttering under his breath about finding a new valet who wouldn’t try to strangle him, he hurried down the steps toward his phaeton, where another servant was holding the reins of his two dusty white horses. Fast creatures, they were. Efficient and pleasant.

“Your Grace!”

“Blast it,” he muttered.

He turned his head to find Joanna hurrying toward him. She had hiked up her skirts just a tad.

As she moved down the steep path, he caught sight of her ankles before raising his gaze. “My Lady. How do you do?”

She skidded to a halt at the forced politeness. Rocking on her heels, she swept her green eyes over him as if she had a hundred questions.

“I…” she trailed off and glanced around warily.

Nicholas suppressed a groan. She was obviously not supposed to be out here. Did no one ever notice what she did with her time? What was she doing out here, unchaperoned?

He raised an impatient eyebrow. “Yes?”

But Joanna only stared at him. Her lips were parted, as if words hung on the tip of her tongue. He glanced at her pink lips. They looked soft… very soft.

If he were to touch her, what––

Nicholas turned away. She clearly had nothing to say right then, but there was no problem there, since he was about to tie himself to her for the rest of his life. By the time they reached the altar, she would have surely found her voice. He supposed he should be grateful she wasn’t yelling at him and arguing like yesterday.

Unfortunately, Joanna soon found her voice.

“Wait, Your Grace. I only wanted… I wished… well, what do you intend to do?”

He had only taken two steps down the drive before slowly turning to face her once again. There was a busy world out there, but it felt so very far away with the two of them together. He frowned at her and tried to understand the odd sensation in his chest.

“What do I intend to do?” he echoed.

She nodded, fidgeting with her fingers. “Yes. I… I couldn’t hear you through the door, and…” she trailed off again, realizing her mistake.

As he watched a blush bloom on her cheeks, Nicholas couldn’t deny that she was beautiful. He had noticed that yesterday. Marrying her, as dreadful as it would be, would not be the worst thing he could ever do. He would manage.

“The way I see it is that there are two options. I could act as a gentleman and salvage your reputation—which you so carelessly cast aside when you came to my house,” Nicholas began. “Or I could leave you to flounder in a society you seem to know nothing about.”

He could have been nicer about that, he supposed, but he wasn’t in the mood.

It clearly took some restraint to bite back her words. Her cheeks grew redder and splotchy. There was a dark glint in her eyes, and he noticed her chin trembling. He wished she would retort, perhaps even yell at him. He wanted to hear what was on her mind.

“And?”

“And I was raised to be a gentleman.” He needed to do that for Eleanor, didn’t he?

He gave her a brief nod as she gaped at him and then turned back to his phaeton.

“Wait! But… why would you do that? You have no reason to care for me. Especially after I shouted at you. There is no reason for you to care for my reputation. Just because you are a lord doesn’t mean…”

Doesn’t mean I will act like a gentleman. Is that it?

“No matter what you might think of me,” Nicholas bit out, “I am a man of honor, and I will do the respectable thing. No matter how we have floundered our way into this scandal, My Lady, I will make matters right. I couldn’t live with the knowledge that I had ruined someone’s life. No matter what you might think of me, know that much.”

“Oh. Well… thank you, I think,” she stammered.

That was it? That was all she had to say?

Nicholas stared at her in amazement, wondering if she was mad. For some reason, he wanted to strangle her. He moved closer and narrowed his eyes at her, waiting for her to complain or gloat. This was, after all, exactly what she had asked for when they first met.

“The day after tomorrow, we will marry. The marriage contract is already signed, and I’ll have the special license by tonight,” he announced.

Joanna let out a surprised squeak, but he continued nonetheless.

“Before the end of the week, you will be the Duchess of Henley. As you know, this shall be a marriage of convenience and nothing more. I expect you to manage the house and the servants and to keep my sister company. Beyond that, I expect to be left alone, and I shall do the same for you. You will have your choice of six properties to reside on, so take your pick once we are wed, but I will remain in London. If we never speak again, I will not care.”

She was too stunned to speak. Her lips parted so prettily that he was almost tempted to kiss her just to see what might happen.

Instead, he steeled himself and extended his hand toward her. Joanna didn’t look away, but her hand still rose and fell into his—an automatic reaction to what he did.

Lifting her hand, he politely brushed his lips across her knuckles. “I’ll see you at the altar soon, wife,” he added sardonically before lowering her hand to her side.

Still, Joanna did nothing.

So Nicholas took his leave.