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‘Not,’ Kendal bit out, ‘with a lady.’
‘Beatrice is more than suitable to be my Duchess,’ Briggs said. ‘And I will not tolerate a bad word spoken about her, in society or this room.’
He did not know why he defended her. Not in light of everything.
Perhaps it was because of what she had done.
It was foolish. Ridiculous. And exceedingly brave. She had risked much to defy her brother.
Had she done it for love? The love of this... James?
He looked at her, at the misery on her face.
He did not think she had. She was not heartbroken now, but furious.
She had done it to kick against Kendal, and for that he could only feel a grudging sort of respect.
From infancy, there had been a clear path laid out for Briggs. All he had to do was marry and produce an heir, and the rest... It was his choice.
Beatrice was beneath Kendal’s authority. And she had limited options when it came to opposing it. None of what her brother had was hers. Nothing would ever pass into her ownership. She would have to acquire a husband to ever change her circumstances, and Kendal had taken steps to ensure she could not do so.
So she had defied him in the only way she could.
Forced his hand.
In truth, he was angrier at his friend than he was at her. In this, he understood her. The desire to have one’s own life. To make one’s own choices. All while being thoroughly misunderstood by those around you.
In his case, actively despised.
‘A duchess?’ she said. ‘I don’t want to be a duchess. I just want to marry James. I want to be free. And I want to have a life of my own. I didn’t want to stay here forever. I already made an entire life of these walls. And I could not take any more of it. You took everything from me, Hugh, when you said that you would not allow me to marry. When you withheld presenting me to court, having my Season. I... I did not have a choice. I told you then that I could not bear it and you did not listen. And now you cannot simply hand me off to Briggs...’
‘What I offer you is an honour,’ Briggs said, the reality of the situation not quite yet settling in. For it was too much to fathom. Beatrice. Beatrice as his wife. Him taking a wife a second time...
He had never intended such a thing.
Perhaps William needs a mother.
William had a governess. William...
Was the angriest, most difficult child he had ever known. He had terrors in the night, and destroyed all of his toys. He did not speak fluently, and he was volatile at the best of times. It was only because he had managed to secure a very esteemed governess that anything went as well as it was currently. She was a sturdy woman with a capable manner, and years of experience. She had informed him that she had known children like William before. It was her opinion that he would grow well enough, though would potentially always have a different sort of manner about him.
The boy had support. He did not need a mother.
William had had a mother, who had not cared enough about him to stay.
Just as Briggs had had a father who had hated him.
At least he loved his son.
You leave him to his governess more often than not...
But he did not scorn him.
Surely that had to count for something.
‘I am preserving your reputation the best I possibly can,’ Briggs said. ‘And my own. You have given me no choice in the matter, Beatrice.’
‘I will secure a special licence,’ Kendal said.
