Page 5 of His Unexpected Duchess (Hearts of Whitmores #2)

CHAPTER 5

J oanna stared harder at her hand, but nothing looked different about it. She frowned and turned it over in the light, wondering why it still burned after the Duke had kissed it.

It was hardly a kiss. A mere brush of his lips… I should have worn my gloves, but I forgot them, again. Now he’s in my bloodstream. I cannot get rid of him.

“You need some rose lotion, I think.”

She jumped, not having realized someone else was in her bedchamber. She turned to see Madeline standing before her.

With a wry smile, her stepsister offered her a small jar. “To smell lovely today.”

“Oh. Right. Yes, thank you.” Joanna accepted the jar and carefully opened it. The rich scent of roses floated to her nostrils, and she promptly dropped the lid. “Oh!”

“I’ll get it.”

Letting out a shaky breath, Joanna let her stepsister do that. “I’m sorry. I’ve never been so clumsy in my life. I am bruised all over from running into everything and pinching myself, and now this. It’ll be a marvel if I…”

“If you what?” Madeline straightened up with the lid in hand, gazing at her curiously.

It was such an innocent expression. She meant no harm.

It made Joanna’s stomach churn with guilt. She had barely had a moment alone with Madeline until now. They were expected at St. Matthew’s Church in the next hour. Where had the time gone?

“I’m sorry,” she blurted, feeling the tears prick her eyes. “Oh, Madeline, I’m so awfully sorry for this.”

“Goodness!” Madeline took her hand and led her to the edge of her bed, where they sat down. She gave her a handkerchief, her brow creased in a frown. “What is the matter? You have nothing to apologize for.”

The lotion was forgotten. Joanna took a deep, shaky breath before dabbing gently at her eyes. It was a wonder that her stepsister could bear to be with her.

“You know I do. This is all a mess. We were just talking about our futures, and then I’ve come and stolen the Duke from you. I promise you that wasn’t what I meant to do. Not exactly, that is,” she added, before pausing. “I wished to speak with him before you two met in the hopes that your mother couldn’t try to sell you off like she planned.”

Madeline’s face softened. “Is that why you were there?”

“Yes. And what a mistake it was! I don’t understand how it happened, but somehow I’m the one marrying him, and I wish I wasn’t. While I don’t wish him on your shoulders, Madeline, I never meant to hurt you like this,” Joanna reassured her hurriedly.

Madeline patted her hand before shaking her head. “You really are too kind. Brave, too. I would have never had the courage to do such a thing. But Joanna, please do not worry. I wish you didn’t feel so awful. You are right that I could have never married him. I like to think that he wouldn’t have accepted me even if we had met first.”

“Are you certain?”

“Very much so. Please do not feel guilty. I am more relieved than anything that I am not marrying him today.” Madeline flushed. “I’m sorry to say that when you are… well, marrying him today. I do hope it will work out in your favor.”

A morose smile curved Joanna’s lips. She wasn’t sure that it would, but she wasn’t particularly surprised. Life had been difficult of late, why should it get any easier?

“May I ask exactly what you were doing there?” Madeline asked tentatively. “What did the two of you talk about before you left?”

Joanna opened her mouth to answer but found herself hesitating. The words were right on the tip of her tongue.

And there were so many words.

How much did Madeline really know, even understand, about her mother and her behavior? While Joanna imagined that she must see it all, she knew for a fact that Madeline had never been deprived of supper before. She’d never been locked in her room for her sharp tongue or forbidden from leaving the house.

It was years of torment that Joanna could no longer endure. Beatrice’s suffocating control weighed more heavily on her every day. Even her sacred spots like the window seat were no longer safe.

The only thing less bearable was the idea of living like this forever.

Countless memories of her interactions with Beatrice flashed through her mind, but she couldn’t push them off her tongue. Saying them out loud would only make them more real. She thought of her old slippers and how they pinched as badly as Beatrice’s fingers when no one was looking. Every pair of shoes she wore hurt because she never received new ones, but she always had new gloves to hide the bruising.

They’re only pinches. Child’s play.

Finding herself rubbing her arm, Joanna dropped her hands to her sides and shook her head. “It is of no consequence now, Madeline, but I thank you for your kindness.”

“Certainly. I only…” Madeline trailed off uncertainly, as a loud thump sounded at the door.

They turned their heads as the Earl called, “Are you in there, Joanna? Come, we must go to the church.”

To the altar, where she would be sacrificed. Or perhaps both she and the Duke would be sacrificed. She wasn’t particularly confident about anything any longer.

Sparing a glance in the mirror––dressed again in her best green dress, wearing tight shoes and thick white gloves––she supposed this would have to do for her wedding.

“Coming, Father,” she called back with great reluctance.

She saw the doubtful look on Madeline’s face, so she gave her hand a squeeze and offered a promising smile. Not everyone should be so miserable today.

“I’m sorry,” Madeline murmured, her voice low and her eyes wide as though she did understand after all.

That gave Joanna pause. She knew she wasn’t entirely alone in her pain. Madeline had suffered greatly, and she would for much longer than Joanna had. It was only the severity that shifted between them.

Joanna gazed back at Madeline and knew that even if her stepsister didn’t know everything, she understood this much—her desperation was so great that she would endure a husband she didn’t know or care for just to escape this cruel environment.

“Thank you,” she replied simply.

Together they made their way out of her bedchamber and down the hall. Her father complimented her looks, though he noted she should be wearing jewelry. When he brought it up to Beatrice in the carriage, her stepmother said something about everything being cleaned at the moment.

It was an odd sort of situation to pull up at the church and walk in quietly with her family before they took their seats at the front pews. Conversation had died—none of them had anything to say. Everyone seemed to just want this wedding over and done with.

Joanna felt herself grow cold and numb until she heard a quiet laugh on the other side of the church. She turned her head slowly to find Nicholas there with his family.

A young woman stood at his side, her hands wrapped around his arm. He was smiling down at her, and she chuckled, a pretty flush on her plump cheeks. In the next pew stood three other people. A tall, beautiful young woman stood shoulder to shoulder with an even taller man, and at his other elbow was a wrinkled, old woman who was beaming with delight.

Unable to help herself, Joanna watched them curiously. She heard her father talking to the vicar to ensure that everything was prepared, but she wished she could hear what her groom’s family was talking about.

That is how it should be. One has only to look in their eyes to see how happy they are with one another. A true family bound by love. I know Father and I had that with Mother when she was still with us. It is the closest I have to a real memory of her. But she is gone now. And I… I am in the way of this, whatever they have. The Whitmores won’t care for me, only that I do not break them up even more than what I am doing today. Do they all despise me, I wonder?

“Joanna.”

She flinched and turned her head to see her father frowning at her. He had been calling her name for some time. She flushed and glanced over at her groom’s family––they had all paused to stare at her.

Embarrassed, she ducked her head. “Yes, Father?”

“It’s time.” Her father drew closer but didn’t offer her his hand as she rose.

It seemed that she would have to walk over to the altar alone, where she would meet the Duke to marry him. The sight ahead intimidated her, and she hesitated.

“Go,” her father commanded.

Whatever love he might have had for her seemed to have vanished in the past few days since she’d caused the scandal. A minor one, she had tried to tell him, but he was clearly disappointed. Resentful, even, based on the baleful look he shot her.

She followed his movements as he pointedly took a seat to avoid helping her. Beside him sat Beatrice, who openly glared at her. Those eyes of hers pierced through Joanna, making her take a step back.

This was what she wanted, Joanna told herself. Freedom from the evil woman.

Thick tension hung over her family, and it gnawed at her insides. She felt like she would be eaten alive.

Swallowing hard, Joanna managed a shaky breath. She couldn’t bear looking at Madeline, though her stepsister shifted as if she wanted to give her an encouraging look.

But Joanna couldn’t bear it. She would surely burst into tears if she dared.

“My Lady?”

Twisting around, she inhaled sharply as she found him right there. Nicholas was tall enough to see over her head. She thought he had glimpsed her family, but then his unfathomable eyes were boring into hers. There was no telling what he had seen, and no idea if he even cared.

He doesn’t. He won’t. Why would he bother? All of this is my fault.

It was time for her punishment, she silently acknowledged. She grudgingly regretted Nicholas’s presence there. He didn’t deserve any blame, but he had still done the honorable thing.

“Thank you,” she murmured as she accepted his outstretched hand.

Joanna had finally found her escape after all these years. Though there was no telling what sort of trouble she was getting herself into, she told herself the risk would be worth it. It had to be.

The two of them walked up to the altar, and she found herself saying that yes, she would spend the rest of her life with the Duke of Henley.