Page 4 of Duchess Needed
“I am quite disappointed, Edward. I knew that you wished to marry, so I had been looking for a bride for you personally, and I had a number of potential candidates already lined up. If you had been a little more patient and attended the season’s events with me –”
“I am grateful, Aunt Barbara, that you would go so far in an effort to help me. truly. But I do not have that sort of time,” he said, cutting her off gently.
She clearly was not happy to hear that excuse, so Edward pressed forward, hoping that he could make her understand his side of things.
“I need a wife and an heir now. If I went along with your plan, I would have to spend weeks convincing some innocent young lady to marry me, despite us having different goals and no means of compromise. And I cannot afford to engage in such an exhausting dance of reasoning and emotions. It is my duty to secure the family line and the dukedom, so I must do all that is necessary to achieve my goals,” he added, trying not to look tired as he ran a hand through his dark hair.
“I understand that, Edward. You have done remarkably well. Even more so than I expected from you – not because I doubted your abilities, but because I had wondered if perhaps it would be best if you... paced yourself. But you have upheld the family’s principles and our name has been protected – as has our reputation. I admire how you have grown to be the duty-driven man before me. And I care for you deeply despite –”
“You don’t say?” Edward grinned. “You certainly have an odd way of showing it, given how quick you are to discipline me by pulling on my ears or smack me.”
Barbara inhaled sharply and his grin widened, as if he was taunting her to let loose the reproach on her tongue. She pointed a finger at him in warning, then she continued,
“Despite all your efforts to frustrate the life out of me –”
“– a joy I am certain you will look back on one day to relive.” He nodded sagely.
The dowager countess looked ready to throw something at his head and Edward stretched his hands out to her placatingly.
“Now, now, dear aunt. Please calm down. Remember that you are fond of me and I do not have an heir yet. If you dispose of me now, there is nothing that can be done to save the family line,” he told her quickly.
Barbara still seemed only moments away from hitting him with something, yet somehow, she managed to calm herself before she could unleash her wrath, her expression pleading.
“Edward, I do not think you should do this. It is not too late. The advertisement has not been publicized yet. We still have time to withdraw your request. Please.”
Edward straightened his spine, his broad shoulders slightly as he considered appearing stricter about the situation. But because she was the one who had taught him the importance of preferring the use of honey over vinegar, he stared down at her for a moment, before gently taking her hands in his.
“I need you to trust that what I am doing is for the best. It will be all right, aunt Barbara,” he assured her softly.
His words were not what she wished to hear and that much was obvious with the way she pulled her hands out of his.
“If you insist on going along with this absurd plan, I suppose I cannot stop you. I can only hope that the outcome is what you hope for,” she stated and turned around to leave.
Edward let her go silently, because he understood her feelings. But he wished he could have had her blessings at least, to carry on with his wishes.
At least she could not influence his decisions at this point, so he supposed that would have to count as a satisfactory win for the moment.
“I pray the outcome is what I hope for as well,” he whispered silently, watching her retreat until she was out of sight.
Then he retired to his study for the rest of the evening.
Phoebe drew the hood of her cloak closer to herself as she walked up the driveway of the Montford estate. Even in the dark, the estate stood tall, proud and terrifying in ways she knew would impress her even in the middle of the day.
It was strange, to be visiting the house of someone she was not acquainted with by herself, much less someone of such high status, but it was important to maintain as much discretion as possible. Additionally, as a spinster, it would not raise much fuss to find her without a chaperone.
She reached the front door and knocked quickly, refusing to grant herself a moment to summon courage because she feared she would begin to overthink and decide against her choice. It only took a few moments before the door was answered by a butler, an elderly man who regarded her with thinly veiled suspicion.
“Yes? How may I be of assistance?”
Phoebe swallowed, inhaling deeply and speaking quickly, “Good evening sir. I would like an audience with the duke, please.”
The butler stared at her, clearly taking stock of the situation. After a few moments, he asked,
“Could you pull down your hood, Miss? I would like to ensure that I am not letting a phantom into the home of my master.”
Phoebe cleared her throat and shook her head. “I am afraid I cannot do that. It is rather important to me, that my identity be protected for as long as possible. Discretion is only second to the objective I hoped to fulfil tonight – which is to see and speak with the duke.”
“Listen here, Miss – you ask for far too much, when you cannot provide the littlest sliver of proof that you are trustworthy. How do I know that you do not desire to harm the duke?” the butler queried, folding his arms across his chest.
