Page 43 of An Innocent Bride for the Duke

Louisa turned away, shaking her head as tears threatened to fill her eyes. The Duke of Northwick might well be tall, dark and handsome, and she knew from experience how kind he could be. Still, how could her romantic hero ever be a man self-admittedly known to half the ton as as rake?

“I can never have what I wished for, Seraphine,” Louisa told her cousin. “I can never have what you and Damien have. It is not really Benedict’s fault, but it feels like my heart is broken.”

Seraphine hugged her again and stroked her hair.

“This may not be the exact dream you dreamed as a young girl, Louisa, but just think, it might be the start of something even better. You will be a duchess after all.”

At this suggestion, Louisa gave a mirthless laugh. Despite the earnestness of her cousin’s face, she supposed the words were largely spoken for comfort rather than from actual conviction.

"I do believe you'll be happy together, Louisa,” insisted Seraphine. “If you both allow yourself to be happy, that is. Have you spoken to Benedict about how you’re feeling? He is not a bad man, you know. Perhaps he would understand.”

“I tried, that day in the rose garden, but then he began on scheduling our future children…”

At this recollection, both women fell about again in laughter all over again. Louisa marveled at how a situation could be simultaneously absurd, comical and tragic.

“Talk to him,” Seraphine recommended once more. “It really is the best way.”

Louisa nodded her agreement although such efforts felt futile. Benedict might be understanding and reasonable and kind, but he would still not be her dream man and her heart ached for that loss.

Chapter Eighteen

“Good Lord, Fanny and Ezra have been well-spoiled here at Rosemere, I can see,” laughed the Duke of Wexford as he and the Duke of Northwick went into the library together after luncheon, the ladies and children having all retired to rest. “They have taken over the place.”

“I think there are still two chairs over by that window we might use,” replied Benedict, smiling around at the complex construction that had occupied Lady Louisa and the children that morning. “Everything else has been absorbed into the castle.”

Damien dropped into one of the comfortable leather chairs with a long sigh of satisfaction.

“How good it feels to rest on something that is neither moving nor hired for the night,” he said, extending his legs and relaxing. “I have been on the road non-stop for the last four days, and I believe you owe me some further explanation. I could barely keep Seraphine back long enough for our belongings to be packed.”

“Ah, the moment for explanations,” Benedict sighed in turn, going to stand beside the window rather than taking his own seat opposite his friend.

In his letter to Damien, he had indeed promised to explain when they saw one another and now the time was here.

“So, you are betrothed to Lady Louisa Ascot,” Damien began for him. “That was not quite the result I expected when I asked you to escort this little family party to Rosemere, Benedict.”

“No, it was not what I expected either, nor what I intended,” responded Benedict. “With no disrespect to Lady Louisa, it was not an outcome I had anticipated.”

“Yet you are now only a few weeks away from your wedding, a day many thought would never come. Out with it, man! What brought this about?”

“Honour,” Benedict mused, “duty, and…a damnable lack of self-control on my part.”

“Benedict,” said Damien very seriously. “What did you…”

“I kissed Louisa, that was all,” interrupted Benedict before his friend could start imagining some nefarious seduction of the unworldly young woman. “We kissed, and we were seen, by Lady Esher and two servants. So, you see, there was really nothing else to be done.”

“You bloody fool!” his friend castigated him, nonetheless. “Of all the women you might have chosen to play around with, why Lady Louisa? Unworldly doesn’t begin to do her justice, and you kissed her?!”

Benedict nodded. Louisa had kissed him too, but not until he had awakened that fire in her. He felt as responsible for rousing her desire as for failing to control his own.

“Louisa is very beautiful and I ought to have kept my distance,” he acknowledged. “I meant to, but we kept being thrown together, and I found her more and more…fascinating, simply because she is so different to every other lady I have ever known.”

“You ought to have looked and not touched,” Damien pronounced, stating only what Benedict already knew. “Now you must marry.”

“As honor demands,” agreed Benedict, now turning to face his friend. “We have discussed the matter and Louisa and I understand one another. This may not be what either of us wanted, but I believe we can find some arrangement that works for both of us.”

“Some arrangement?!” queried Damien, incredulous. “Do you have any idea how that young woman feels about marriage? She believes it is something almost sacred and that love conquers all. This kind of talk will break her heart.”

“I know Louisa is a dreamer with some very unrealistic ideas about love and marriage,” Benedict replied, smiling sadly as he recalled some of their conversation during the journey. “I cannot give her those dreams.”