That, apparently, was no longer the case. Carrying a child, or God help them all, perhaps two, made her sister irrational, and weepy and weak. Dorothea shuddered. If Gwendolyn could not be counted upon to retain her good sense and equilibrium while pregnant, what chance would Dorothea have if she ever carried a child?
“You look lovely, Gwen,” Dorothea replied. “Entrancing in an entirely different way.”
They all seemed to hold their breaths as they collectively waited for Gwendolyn’s reaction to her sister’s remark.
“I vow I am not such a disagreeable harpy under normal circumstances, Lord Atwood,” Gwendolyn said wistfully.
Carter smiled kindly. “How very disappointing. I was hoping this marriage would bring me some lively, entertaining relations. Alas, my own are rather, staid, proper, and on occasion deadly boring.”
For a moment Gwendolyn looked as if she would burst into tears, then she started laughing. “Thank you, my lord. For treating me like a person and not a porcelain doll that would break if you came too near.”
“If I may be so indelicate, a woman in your condition should be allowed to do and say anything that she wishes.”
“Do you hear that, Jason?”
“Yes, I did, my love. Sound advice that I fully intend upon taking.”
Dorothea stole a glimpse of her sister as Gwendolyn poured the tea. She offered Lord Atwood the first cup, then poured a second for Dorothea. As she drank her hot tea, the sour feeling in the pit of Dorothea’s stomach slowly eased. Carter went out of his way to be charming and amusing, treading carefully around Gwendolyn’s unpredictable emotions. By the time they took their leave, Gwen was smiling and giggling.
Jason walked them out to the carriage. Carter tactfully pulled ahead to check on the horses, allowing her a moment of privacy.
“Atwood seems like a fine man, Dorothea,” Jason said. “You’ve done well.”
“So everyone keeps saying.” She tugged on the bonnet ribbon tied under her chin, making certain it was secure for the open carriage ride back to London. “It’s all happening so quickly, I feel that I’ve had no time to think.”
Jason laughed. “Trust me, that’s the best way to approach marriage. Let your feelings and emotions guide you. Love is never wrong.”
Dorothea lowered her head. Oh, dear, Jason had misinterpreted things completely. Feeling too embarrassed to correct the mistaken notion that she and Lord Atwood were in love, Dorothea hugged her brother-in-law good- bye.
“Take good care of Gwen and my future niece or nephew,” she admonished.
“I shall endeavor to do my best, no matter how ill-tempered she becomes.”
Dorothea spied Gwendolyn standing at the window and she waved until the carriage brought them down the drive and well out of sight of the house. Only then did she glance up at Carter.
He had his eyes firmly on the road, his hands tightly gripping the reins. She settled herself more comfortably beside him, enjoying the stillness, not at all minding the silence. It was a good silence, a comfortable quiet.
All things being equal, the visit had gone well. Carter had not been overly shocked at the unusual situation, although it might just be good manners that prevented him from being too critical.
But more importantly, Gwendolyn and Jason had liked Lord Atwood and approved of the match. Jason had even gone so far as to say he believed she had made a good choice.
They made a sharp turn and Carter’s left hand instinctively reached out to ensure she was safely seated. Dorothea smiled her thanks and her heart lightened. She fervently hoped that Jason was right.
Chapter Nine
The announcement of the impending marriage of Miss Dorothea Ellingham to Carter Grayson, Marquess of Atwood, appeared in
In his more optimistic moments Carter had told himself the duke’s anger would be swift, sharp, and short-lived. Yet as he stood before his father in the duke’s private study, he grudgingly acknowledged that was not proving to be the case.
“I had to read the announcement in the newspaper,” the duke roared, tossing the offending item on his desk, where it scattered across the dark mahogany. “The newspaper! Was I not owed the common courtesy of being told beforehand,
“You were not in Town,” Carter answered, raising his voice to be heard above his father’s disapproving bellows. “There was no opportunity.”
“You could have waited. You should have waited.” The duke paused, his eyes narrowing with alarm. “Unless there is a specific need for the marriage to occur with undue haste?”
A chill of anger swept through Carter at the inference. “You dishonor me, sir, by asking such a callous, inappropriate question.” He cared little for his own reputation, for it was hardly stellar. However, he would not allow his future wife’s honor and integrity to be impugned, even by his own father. “The time frame is perfectly acceptable, and I will insist to you that there is no need for a hasty wedding. We are not running off to Gretna Green nor arranging for a ceremony by special license. The banns shall be dutifully read and we will marry in three weeks’ time.”
“Three weeks?” The duke rubbed his hands together. “Hmm, then there is still time for you to reconsider.”
“Sir, you have continually badgered me to get married and now that I have chosen a bride, you wish me to call off the wedding?” Carter’s jaw clenched in anger. He paced off the carpet and onto the intricate parquet floor, his boot heels clicking loudly.
The duke leaned forward, closing his hands on the newspaper spread on his desk. “I want you to call off
“I do not!” Though in that moment Carter desperately wished he did have the list on his person, just so he could crumple it in his father’s face before tossing it into the fireplace. “I swear, I shall not be held accountable for my actions if you mention that damn list once more, sir. I shall choose my bride, not you.”
The duke’s hand balled into a tight fist. He stood, paced, turned, then banged his closed fist on his desktop. “Why must you be so infernally stubborn?”
“I am your son,” Carter blurted out, not bothering to hide his irritation. “I come by my stubbornness naturally.”
“You get it from your mother’s side of the family,” the duke grumbled. He took a long, deep breath, then slowly sank down into his chair. His face was as dark as a thundercloud until suddenly he smiled. “If you insist upon this course of action, then I insist upon meeting Miss Ellingham immediately.”
Ah, so that’s how he was going to play it. Denied his way, the duke now planned to intimidate and essentially frighten off Miss Ellingham. As if that could ever work! Carter forced an answering smile. “If you cannot control your temper any better than you are, sir, you will meet my fiancee at the church on the morning of our wedding.”
The duke looked at him cautiously, and Carter had the distinct impression his father was weighing the threat in his mind.
“I view your Miss Ellingham as a social upstart and a fortune hunter,” the duke replied. “And I’ll make no bones about the matter. Mark my words, she’s after your title and your money.”
“Perhaps she has fallen in love with me,” Carter suggested casually.
“Fallen in love with your money, you mean.”
Carter squared his shoulders. “Your flattering assessment of my personal charm aside, I firmly believe Miss Ellingham is not a fortune hunter. She is a very comely female, genteel in her upbringing. True, she has no great family connections or wealth, but I have enough of that for the both of us. We will suit, Father. That’s all that matters.”
The duke’s eyes narrowed into sharp points. “You’re damn quick to defend her.”
