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The gentleman stood up, taking his hand. “Thank you, your Grace. For everything. As I said, my daughter is a very lucky girl.”
Jackson smiled. “I rather think that I am the lucky one, my Lord. I shall be in touch.”
And then he had left the house after taking his leave of the rest of the family.
Jackson gulped his brandy, as he slowly walked around the room. He had been in this room only a few hours ago. But it felt like a lifetime. So much had altered in that time. His hasty decision to call upon the Lady Patricia had utterly changed his life.
As he had climbed into his carriage to leave the house on Park Lane, something had compelled him to look back. Lady Patricia was standing at the drawing room window, watching him, one hand gripping the lace curtain. She had smiled at him. A beatific smile that had spread over her face like warm sunshine.
It had been that smile, as he had been leaving, that had convinced him that it was all going to be alright. That he had made the right choice in proposing to her and saving her from scandal.
Amazingly, inexplicably, she appeared to be as happy with the situation as he was.
Back in his study now, he downed the brandy, feeling a warm glow settle over him. He still could not quite believe it, but it appeared he had found a lady who actually wanted to marry him. And not for his title and fortune. She seemed not to see his scarred face at all. The connection between them was strong. Could it be real? Did she genuinely admire him?
He placed the glass on his desk. It was a start. A very good start. Soon she would become his wife. He knew without a shadow of a doubt that he could barely wait. It was only three days but even that seemed like an eternity now. He had known that he wished to bed her before. And now the hunger was building, with every passing moment, until he could make her his own.
* * *
Patricia gazed at herself in her dressing table mirror, as the maid brushed out her hair before bed, with long, sure strokes. The shock of the tumultuous events of the day had abated a little, but she was still having a hard time grappling with the fact that she was about to marry.
Three days, she thought, in wonder.In only three days’ time, I shall be a married lady.
The speed of it had taken her breath away, just a little. The Duke’s proposal. Her mother in paroxysms of joy. Then her father had been summoned. Margaret’s shocked face. It was all like a blur in her memory, now.
The door opened and her mother walked in.
“You may leave, Dulcie,” she said to the maid, taking the brush. “I shall finish Lady Patricia’s evening toilette.”
The maid bobbed a curtsey and withdrew.
As soon as she was gone, her mother put down the brush, gazing at her daughter’s face in the mirror.
“Well?” she whispered, her eyes shining. “How do you feel, now that you are an engaged lady?”
Patricia exhaled slowly. She hardly knew how she felt. She had calculatingly engineered the situation with the Duke, after all, in the vain hope it would come to this. But the surprise in all of it was that she actually liked him. And she was still shuddering remembering the feel of his lips upon her own…
She blushed fiercely. She could hardly tell her mother that.
“I am very happy, Mama,” she said eventually, biting her lip. “The Duke is a good man. I am sure of it.”
Lady Hunter nodded, picking up the brush again. Her mother’s hand was not as gentle as the maids had been. Patricia could barely stop herself wincing as the brush pulled at her locks, quite fiercely.
“As am I,” said Lady Hunter, nodding with satisfaction. “I would not have left you alone with him otherwise.” Her eyes sparkled. “Youarea clever girl, Patricia. It did not take you long to have him eating out of your hand, did it?”
Patricia’s blush deepened with shame. Her mother’s assessment of the situation was uncannily accurate. Shehadbeen calculating and wished to place the Duke into a position where he had no choice but to propose to her. But hearing it from her mother’s lips made her recoil in distaste.
What kind of a woman had she become?
“Your father is very pleased by the situation, as well,” continued Lady Hunter, pulling at her hair with the brush. “The Duke said that he would not accept a dowry, claiming that his estate is flush and does not require it. He actually brought it up and saved your father the embarrassment of offering a paltry amount…”
Patricia tightened her lips. This was further proof of what an honorable gentleman the Duke of Merriweather was. Not only had he risen to the occasion, and proposed to her as soon as he realized she was compromised, but he had also rejected the notion of a dowry completely, without even knowing that they had practically none to give. Not many men would have done such a thing, even if they were extremely wealthy. Most men thought of it as purely a business transaction. Who would reject more money going into the coffers, after all?
The Duke of Merriweather was such a man.
Her face burnt with further shame, just thinking about it. He had no idea that he had been played by all of them. What would his reaction be if he realized that she had manipulated this situation to secure her future and that of her sister?
“Now, Patricia,” said her mother, gazing at her earnestly in the mirror. “Once you are settled into your new life as the Duchess of Merriweather, you must talk to the Duke about securing your sister’s dowry.” She paused. “And perhaps also asking if His Grace would pay off the majority of our debts, so that we are not forced to sell off all our assets and live in virtual penury.”
