Just a Marriage of Convenience with the Duke by Hazel Linwood
Chapter 5
Bridget walked the length of the drawing- room slowly, back and forth, looking out at the street beneath the windows from time to time. Her father had yet to come in from breakfast, making it a habit to browse the morning papers undisturbed at the breakfast table. Harriet, however, felt such nervous flutterings that she struggled to keep still in her seat on the sofa.
“A duke?” Harriet had asked breathlessly the night before when Bridget had shared the news. “How is it even possible, you don’t even know him!”
“What’s there to know? It’s no different than being married to a man Father chooses for me come autumn,” Bridget had explained. “But I do have a good sense about him. From the very moment I first spoke to him, he had come to my rescue to save me from a drunken brute. Then, when he learned of the academy and the children we served, he was moved to offer marriage in order to keep the school open. How horrid can he be when he is so quick to think of others?”
“But he had never even seen you before. Yes, you are beautiful, of course,” Harriet had admitted, rolling her eyes a little, “but how can a man know if you are the most stunning creature unless he has known you long enough to make a comparison?”
Bridget had laughed greatly at that. “Dear sister, there are plenty of men who do not put so much weight on a woman’s appearance. Some men dare to consider instead women’s minds, the goodness of their hearts, their willingness to be a true friend.”
“Those men must be equally unappealing,” Harriet replied with a disdainful shudder.
Now, they passed the morning in the dreadfully boring practice of waiting to see if anyone came to call. It was usually not a futile effort, as there were often visitors for their father or people who had some business with the academy. Frequently, friends of theirs stopped by to talk for a while, and on the rare unpleasant occasion, their cousin Albert chanced by to look around at his future home with an appraising eye.
“If anyone does come to call, I hope it’s not that awful Lord Durningham. Did you see him last night? He was practically hunched over like a street beggar, and his coat looked as though he might have stolen it from one.”
“Harriet, that is very unkind!” Bridget exclaimed. “What has gotten into you? You were never one to be so judgmental of another person’s appearance or fashions.”
“I don’t know, I suppose I’m only feeling put out. I had every intention of enjoying this Season and even having a second one,” Harriet confessed sadly. “I had thought it would be an endless cloud of dancing and go visiting and attending the opera. Instead, it is to be cut short by Father’s financial troubles. The wolf is at the door, so to speak.”
“Remember that Father’s financial troubles, as you called them, are also our troubles. We are family, Harriet,” Bridget chided gently. “Whatever befalls him will drift down to us, too. But do not think on it as though your Season was severed. After all, once you are married, you will still attend these events.”
“Oh, I know. But I won’t attend as a delicate flower that men are clamoring to be close to. I’ll be a tired old matron who stands off to the side and gossips about the unmarried girls,” Harriet complained.
“Or you could choose not to do so,” Bridget replied, her sentence flooded with sarcasm. “You could actually make a choice to be a nice person who has lots of friends and is invited everywhere, even if she is an old married woman.”
“That’s easy for you to say, you’re marrying a duke!” Harriet called out, flinging a small pillow at her sister. “Oh Bridget, promise me you will host magnificent parties and balls so that I might be invited. My husband will have to let me attend since you’re my sister, and my brother-in-law is the Duke of Lockhart!”
“You are worrying yourself sick for nothing,” Bridget said, laughing in astonishment. “Could you perhaps wait to see which man falls at your feet before worrying that it will all end badly?”
“Who is falling at Harriet’s feet?” the earl asked loudly as he entered the room.
“No one, that’s the problem,” Harriet said, crossing her arms and groaning slightly.
“Father, please talk some sense into her,” Bridget interjected playfully. “She is convinced that at all of seventeen years, she is a spinster of the worst sort, fearful that she’ll have to marry the man who sells mackerel from his cart.”
“Hmm, I don’t know, that might actually be a good match,” their father answered, looking thoughtful for a moment. “Be rid of a second daughter and have all the mackerel I can eat? That does sound rather fortunate.”
Bridget did not know which was more humorous, her father’s playful remark or her sister’s horrified expression. In the end, she changed the subject before anyone else could take offense.
“Father, have you had any messages today?” Bridget asked, trying to sound innocently disinterested in the answer.
“If you’re referring to any dukes who chanced to ask for my daughter’s hand in marriage, then I’m sorry, you’ll just have to wait to find out. I wish to have a clear head and a quiet room to discuss a contract with such a man… if he is indeed coming to call, that is.”
“Father, I haven’t seen you this playful in quite some time,” Harriet said, scrutinizing him. “What’s gotten into you?”
“I am just a man whose immense burdens have been slightly relieved for a while, that’s all. My troubles are no longer a secret, Bridget is already being spoken for, and you will undoubtedly snare some man in the trap of those enormous blue eyes any day now. I can finally rest a little easier, that is all.”
Bridget’s heart caught in her throat for a moment. How could they have missed his obvious distress all this time? Spending every day caring for the unfortunate children of their academy had left them oblivious to their own father’s grief. Bridget felt rather ashamed at having exerted so much care for others while sparing none for the one who may have needed her the most.
“I’m very glad to know that you’re feeling some measure of happiness, Father,” Bridget said, crossing the room and kissing her father on the cheek. “And I will not pester you about any messages you may receive, no matter how much I might wish to.”
“It’s all right, dear girl. You know I would inform you at once,” the old man answered, unfolding his newspaper, and beginning to read.
Over the course of the next hour, a small handful of visitors came and went. Earliest to arrive were the closest of friends and confidantes, those who’d known the girls for so long that the earliest hour of the day was their prerogative.
“Bridget, I came as soon as it was appropriate,” Agatha said breathlessly once Mr. Blake had announced her and shown her in. “To think that you’re marrying the Duke of Lockhart! And that you met at my event!”
“I know, I’m still not quite sure how it all happened,” Bridget answered. “I was dancing one moment, and then betrothed the next!”
Harriet only sank back against the sofa cushions and crossed her arms in front of herself. Bridget ignored her as she spoke to her guests.
“But did he say anything about how long he’d known you, or how you’d caught his eye?” their friend Camille asked, looking unsettled.
“No, that is the most unusual thing,” Bridget said, wondering how much she should confess.
Was it safe to inform others that this match was only the meeting of two like minds, the product of two stalwart people who were both in great need of something the other could provide?
No, it was best not to put it that way, at least not around those who still clung to the fervent hope of marrying for love. Due to her age—all of one-and-twenty years—Bridget no longer harbored such ideas. She had lost her youth to sitting at her mother’s sickbed, then at championing the academy her mother had cared so much about. In truth, she would have counted herself lucky if her husband had not been past sixty and already walking with a limp.
“Still, I find it rather romantic,” Agatha said, her eyes bright with excitement. “A man who is so enamored by you that he proposes right that very moment! And without even pausing to speak to your father first!”
“My parents would have rejected the man just on principle,” Camille said, shaking her head. “Father holds no affection for people who do not do things by the book.”
Bridget suppressed a gentle laugh at the thought of their friend’s parents refusing a suitor’s request simply for being overeager and not following decorum. However, having known Camille and her parents for quite a number of years, she was not entirely surprised.
“So, when do you think you’ll wed?” Agatha asked excitedly. She clapped her hands softly and asked, “Oh, do you think he’ll get a special license? I know some think those are wasteful and a sure sign of a young lady’s immodest behavior, but I think they’re romantic.”
“What’s so romantic about hurrying up to get married without getting to have any parties or dinners or go to any balls as a betrothed couple?” Harriet shot back.
“You’ll have to forgive my sister,” Bridget said, intervening. “But she seems to be under the impression that upon marriage, all invitations cease to exist. That’s why there’s such a shortage of married couples everywhere we look.”
“Don’t tease me,” Harriet said, making a face at her sister.
“I’m only making light of it because it is troubling you so. You mustn’t worry, I’m certain you will meet a man who sets your heart on fire with a simple glance, and you will be the envy of the ton once you wed,” Bridget assured her, patting her hand comfortingly.
Before another word was spoken, Mr. Blake came to the drawing room door and announced a new arrival. Everyone sat up taller, even Harriet, who’d been slumped in agony.
“My lord, the Duke of Lockhart has come to call,” the butler said formally, bowing politely, as he stepped back to permit Patrick to enter.
Every eye was transfixed on his handsome features and pleasant expression. Bridget couldn’t help but feel the slightest stirring of happiness. If she had to marry and if it had to be someone she did not know so well, at least he was both nice to look at and seemingly kind. Unlike friends of hers who’d married men who owned permanent scowls, the duke was the epitome of warmth as he smiled at everyone around the room, even Mr. Blake.
“Good day to you,” the earl said, standing to greet Patrick. “Do come in.”
“Actually, my lord, I’m afraid I have quite a number of things to do today. Would it be possible for us to retire to your study to speak about an urgent matter?” Patrick asked after giving Bridget a sly look.
“Of course. Blake, if you’ll have a tray sent up?” the earl asked before leading the way from the room.
Bridget watched them go, her heart skipping a beat unexpectedly. She shivered when Patrick turned at the door and looked at her once more. Had she imagined it, or was there a certain amount of longing in his glance?
“My heavens, Bridgie,” Agatha said after they’d left, gulping loudly as though wetting her dry throat, “I knew he was handsome, but I had no idea it was so dire!”
“Did I not tell you?” Camille asked, nudging Agatha with her elbow. “He’s quite a feast for the eyes, if I dare say so in front of Bridget.”
“Oh, I am not bothered by others’ compliments toward the duke,” Bridget answered, waving off Camille’s concern. “Ours is a match of pure convenience, that is all. I need to marry, as does the duke. It only makes sense.”
“But wouldn’t it be marvelous to marry for love?” Harriet asked, her eyes finally brimming with unshed tears. “I had such great hopes of meeting someone who truly cared for me. I simply thought that was the way it was done, even though I had heard differently. And I’ll admit, Bridget… I always thought the same would be true for you.”
“Dear little sister, I am so sorry to disappoint you,” Bridget answered, smoothing back Harriet’s hair. “But I am already one-and-twenty, the mere hope that I would marry someone who loved me and did not simply need a wife was rather dim. I devoted my alluring years to the academy, something that I am not sorry for. If the price I pay for keeping the school open and fulfilling one of Mother’s dreams is to marry a kind but unfamiliar man, then I am not at all displeased.”
“Oh Bridget, do you even hear yourself?” Agatha asked, close to weeping. “You are not displeased to be marrying? That is hardly the sentiment of true love.”
“Fortunately, I am not looking for true love,” Bridget said brightly, trying to explain how she was so at peace with her situation. “I am looking for provision, an ease to the burden I am to Father, and the chance to keep the school doors open. That is all I ask from life… and from a husband.”
