Page 3 of An Accidental Marriage

He had very little hope that he would. Between Thomas’s letter reinstating their boyhood wager and Mother’s meddling, it felt as if all of England was pressing him toward bliss-less matrimony.

But all of that was no matter. He didn’t need to love Miss Oakley. Not for a minimal, quarter-of-an-hour visit.

He reached the front doors of Westburn where he dismounted, and a groom took the reins from his hands. Charles peered up at the house, then straightened his jacket with a deep breath.

Fifteen minutes. A simple introduction, pleasantries exchanged, then he would be free.

Time to get this over with.

Marie Oakley peered out of the window at the gravel drive, her eyes fixed on the gentleman who stood before Westburn’s doors.

Mr. Charles Shepherd.

She couldn’t see much of him from her viewpoint, but he was tall and had a thick head of hair that he was currently running his fingers through. Was he as handsome as Mrs. Shepherd claimed? Mothers weren’t particularly trustworthy when it came to being impartial to their sons.

He shook his hands out at the side of him, then walked toward the front door and out of sight.

“He has arrived,” Marie said simply, moving away from the window to rejoin Mother, Father, and Mr. and Mrs. Shepherd by the hearth.

They watched her with smiles and excitement, but Marie kept her eyes trained on the crackling fire.

If she made eye contact with Mother, Marie might voice just how very much she didn’t wish to go through with this. If she made eye contact with Father, she might just beg him to reconsider her age of eight and twenty being so very “on the shelf.” And if she made eye contact with the Shepherds, she’d be filled with an all-encompassing guilt for contemplating reneging on her decision to finally agree to the arrangement.

It was too late to change her mind now. She kept her gaze averted until footsteps sounded just outside the door, signaling the arrival of the much-awaited gentleman.

Only then did Marie face forward with a deep breath.

It was time.

Time to meet her betrothed and to marry her betrothed.

Chapter Two

“Mr. Charles Shepherd.”

The butler announced his name, and Charles rounded the corner, entering the Oakleys’ parlor and coming face-to-face with a room full of expectant eyes.

He bowed, then took in the sight before him. His first impression was that of the space being stiff and rigid, not only in appearance, but in atmosphere, as well. The air was chilled despite the fire, and the color of the walls a drab brown—made even more so due to gray light filtering in through the window at the back of the room.

The people were no more exuberant.

Charles took a few steps within the room, pulling on a pleasant expression as he eyed his parents exactly where they said they’d be. Mother’s smile was tight, Father’s nearly non-existent.

Obviously, they wanted this meeting to go well. Charles would be the perfect gentleman they expected, but he already knew this meeting was not going to result in love-at-first-sight—as his parents so clearly desired.

Still, he had to admit he was curious to see Miss Oakley, if only to celebrate his accuracy in predicting her extended age.

When he finally turned to face her, he found her entirely hidden behind the stiff and imposing figure of her father.

Before anything was said, Mother rushed toward Charles, delivering a gentle embrace. “My darling son. How pleased I am to see you.” Then she whispered into his ear, “You have made my heart…so happy.”

Her voice broke between her words, and when she pulled back, tears shone in her eyes.

Crying? That was a bit dramatic, considering all he’d agreed to do was meet the woman.

“Anything for you, Mother.”

She gave a little laugh. “Your recurrent protesting would say otherwise.”