Charmed in an Arranged Marriage
Preview
Chapter One
Somehow, the minutes seemed to stretch on for what felt like hours. A calming breeze drifted through the open bay windows, rustling the tendrils of golden blond hair curled at Isabella’s temples. She fussed at it with a huff of annoyance, then resisted the urge to rub the back of her neck restlessly. Everything bothered her. The wind, the silence, and especially the fact that she had been sitting in this drawing room for two hours staring at the boring pages before her.
“Don’t sigh, Bella,” came a drone before her. “It is unbecoming of a lady.”
Bella lifted her eyes to the matronly woman perched in her favorite armchair under the window. Her aunt Gertrude Wentworth looked every bit the adorable, motherly lady she pretended to be, but Bella knew better. She’d been in London for only a week now and had already learned that her aunt was more akin to a strict schoolteacher than anything else.
For a moment, Bella considered how best to answer. “Who cares?” came to the tip of her tongue but her aunt would simply launch into a lengthy lecture that would bore Bella half to death. So instead, she murmured, “Yes, Aunt Gertrude.”
“And sit up straight!” her aunt snapped, finally looking up from her own book. “How will you find a husband this Season if you slouch like that?”
“If my husband cares about slouching, then perhaps I do not want him.”
“Isabella!”
Bella lowered her eyes to her book, flipping a page as she stifled a sigh. “Forgive me,” she muttered then sat up straight. She waited until her aunt’s heavy stare lifted before she relaxed again.
“You have a lot to learn, Bella, if you want to become the Diamond of the Season,” her aunt continued. “Silly things like refusing to sit up straight and sighing every time you feel discontent will only hinder you.”
“I know, Aunt Gertrude,” Bella droned, only because she knew that agreeing was the quickest way out of this lecture. But she couldn’t hide her restlessness. She didn’t want to be here. The only reason she’d stopped fighting in coming to London for the Season was because she wanted the chance to visit the British Museum. She would much rather be there than pretending she cared about Shakespeare’s sonnets as her aunt insisted.
“You’re a beautiful girl, Bella.” Her aunt’s tone softened. “But that can only take you so far. There are many lovely ladies in London who will stop at nothing to find their perfect match.”
“Is that what you did, Aunt Gertrude? Did you stop at nothing to marry?”
Bella might have been mistaken but she could have sworn she saw a flash of sorrow in her aunt’s eyes. She instantly wished she could take back her words. Sometimes it was hard to remember that her aunt had once been in love. The loss of her husband was a painful scar her aunt constantly tried to hide.
“My time is long gone, my dear,” Aunt Gertrude said softly. She closed her book, resting it on the side table under the window. “Now it is time to focus on creating a future for yourself.”
“My future does not have to rest in a—” A crease formed between her aunt’s eyes. Bella bit her tongue. “Tell me about those days,” she said instead. “Was it any different from now? I’m certain that something must have changed since then.”
“How old do you think I am, child?”
“Four-and-eighty?” Bella asked innocently, a playful glint in her eyes.
Her aunt scoffed. “Your insolence will get you in trouble one day, you know. But to answer your question, not much has changed. So, you will do well to listen to me, child. I know what I am talking about.”
Sensing another lecture, Bella switched courses. Between listening to her aunt talk about the past and reading another dreadful line of her book, the choice was easy. Still, she left the heavy book in her lap.
“What of Father?” Bella probed. “What was he like?”
Aunt Gertrude sighed softly and nestled further into her armchair. The large orange cat, Mr. Whiskers, that had been lounging by the hearth got to its feet at the sound, ambling over with slow blinking eyes. He jumped into Aunt Gerturde’s lap, spun twice, and then curled up to sleep.
“You do not know your own father, my dear?” her aunt asked wearily, stroking her haughty-looking car.
“Not nearly as much as I would like,” Bella admitted. “We have been in London for an entire week and I have only seen him once since our arrival. He hardly has any time for me.” She didn’t mean for her words to sound as bitter as they did. Hopefully, her aunt hadn’t noticed.
Aunt Gertrude only said, “Never you mind what your father is doing. He is an important man in the House of Lords, so you needn’t worry about where he is. Go on, continue reading.”
The older lady twisted to face the window, still stroking her cat as it purred loudly in her lap. Bella stifled another sigh. That was the end of that, she supposed.
Bella resumed her reading, speaking out loud to appease her aunt despite her distaste for Shakespeare’s work. The words blended together, her voice nothing but a low hum accompanying the tick-tock of the grandfather clock across the room. After a while, Bella hardly heard herself, her mind drifting back to the last thing her aunt said.
He is an important man in the House of Lords, so you needn’t worry about where he is.
Easier said than done. She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her father and his state of mind since…since Christopher passed away. The gentleman she’d come to love had hardened into a cold presence Bella could not come to terms with. Even though it had been four years since her brother’s passing, her father was still mourning. He would never admit it. No one would. But Christopher’s passing left a mark on everyone’s heart and only Bella seemed capable of poking her head above the murky water of sorrow.
And her mother…
The Duchess of Redshire was only a shell of her former self, even with the mask she constantly wore. Bella knew better. She saw through the smiles that lifted her mother’s lips and the lilt in her voice when she spoke. She heard the sobs at night, shattered gasps and tremors as if her mother had been suppressing it all day.
A pang of longing hit Bella suddenly. Right now, the duchess was still in the countryside attending to Bella’s sister, Matilda, who was expecting her first child. Bella had wanted to stay, had begged her father to let her skip this Season. But he was insistent, and once the Duke of Redshire decided something, everyone else had to fall in line.
A distinct nasal sound interrupted her speech. Bella glanced up to find her aunt’s head slanted upon her lap, while a resounding snooze reverberated across the room.. She laughed under her breath. Quite ladylike, she thought.
She returned her attention to her book, then paused. This was her chance, she realized. Her aunt was a heavy sleeper. This sudden nap could buy her perhaps an hour or two of freedom.
Slowly, Bella wedged her bookmark between the pages and set the book aside, keeping her eyes on her aunt. Even though she doubted she would wake her, Bella rose as quietly as she could, backing away. She didn’t so much as breathe, her hand gripping the door handle slowly.
The moment it clicked, Mr. Whisker’s opened his eyes. Bella froze under the oddly judgmental stare of the cat. Slowly, she raised a finger to her lips. Mr. Whiskers only watched her.
Deciding that she must have received the approval of the cat, Bella slipped out of the drawing room. She closed the door quietly, then released her pent-up breath. A victorious grin stretched across her face. Bella backed away gingerly then turned and raced up the staircase to her bedchamber.
Her lady’s maid, Annie, was already within, dusting. She dropped her rag in alarm the moment Bella burst through the door.
“Quick, Annie!” Bella gushed. “We haven’t much time!”
“Much time for what, milady?” Annie asked hurriedly. Bella heard her approach her from behind but she was too busy rummaging through her armoire for her gloves. “Lady Isabella, is something wrong?”
“Not at all, my dear, Annie! Unless you consider my aunt falling asleep while I was under her watch something wrong.” Bella whirled to face her, holding up a pair of blue gloves. “Do these match my dress?”
A confused frown fell over Annie’s face. “I don’t—I’m not certain—”
“Perhaps not.” Bella tossed them aside, not caring where they landed. She snatched another. A pale-yellow pair, much better suited for her ivory-colored dress. “Quickly, Annie, find me a parasol and a bonnet.”
“Are you going somewhere, milady?” Annie asked, still bemused. Even so, she got into action, claiming the task of rummaging through the armoire when Bella stepped away to tug on her gloves.
Gloves on, Bella made her way to her vanity table. Her hair was still in place, she saw, a simple chignon that held most of her blond hair at bay. If she were caught outdoors with a single strand of hair out of place, her father and Aunt Gertrude would know about it.
Not that she planned on getting caught. No, she had to return before her aunt woke. But for now, she needed to get out of here as quickly as she could.
“Yes, Annie,” Bella answered, unable to keep the excitement from her voice. “I have decided to visit the British Museum.”
Annie approached her with a bonnet and parasol in hand, her eyes wide with horror. “Alone, milady?”
“Of course not,” Bella laughed. “Father will be the first to hear of such a thing and I’d rather not incur his wrath when I can avoid it. He will be home late, as he usually is, and I would have returned long before then.”
“Does Lady Wentworth know of this, milady?”
Bella shook her head slightly, then allowed Annie to secure her bonnet. “She is napping in the drawing room. I wish to take advantage of the time I have.” Bella caught the look on Annie’s face and added, “There is no use trying to talk me out of it, Annie. I’ve already decided to go and there is no changing my mind. And you will be accompanying me.”
“Lady Wentworth will not like this,” Annie expressed fearfully. “His Grace will be furious.”
“All accurate presumptions, Annie. But you forget one thing.”
“What’s that, milady?”
Bella gave her a broad, mischievous grin. “I am my father’s daughter.”
Annie’s shoulders sagged with defeat. There was no arguing with that. The Duke of Redshire was a notoriously stubborn man. That was the only trait Bella had inherited from him.
Parasol in hand, bonnet secured, Bella hurried out of the room with a reluctant Annie on her heels. She knew her lady’s maid would not hesitate to accompany her. It went beyond simple duty. Annie had been her lady’s maid for over five years now and had become her friend during that time, though Annie would never admit such a thing out loud. She would never allow Bella to head into trouble by herself.
It didn’t take long for a carriage to be ready for their departure. Annie made a few more attempts to dissuade her of her foolhardy plan but Bella ignored her. She’d been vying to visit the museum since she set foot in London, the only good thing about coming here. Her mother had even gifted her tickets to be used whenever she wished. She wasn’t about to let this opportunity slip through her fingers.
Do not go anywhere without your aunt.
Her father’s warning echoed in her mind as their carriage rattled across the cobbled street. He had all but ignored her these past four years. Surely it wouldn’t be so bad to ignore him this once?
Chapter Two
“A break? You wish to take a break?”
Edward almost rolled his eyes at his father’s incredulous tone. Instead, he rose and ambled over to the sideboard, pouring himself his third glass of whiskey for the afternoon. He wasn’t one to indulge, but after spending nearly the entire morning in a meeting with his father, Edward wasn’t certain he’d be able to manage much longer without the liquor easing his tense mind.
“Is that so difficult to imagine, Father?” Edward said, taking a small sip of his whiskey. He met his father’s dark eyes from across the study. “We have been at this for hours and we are no closer to a breakthrough than when we first began. Surely you understand that taking a break may help.”
“Do not take that tone with me, boy! I see no value in that foolish suggestion. Let us continue.” Lord Humphrey Harrington, the Earl of Harenwood, was a predictable man at times. Edward could have recited those words at the exact same time if he’d dared to. He didn’t know why he’d even made the suggestion in the first place.
Perhaps he was too tired, so mentally exhausted that he could no longer mind his words around his harsh and temperamental father. It was only a matter of time before he snapped.
He said nothing, simply watching as Humphrey rounded the large redwood desk dominating the north of the study and sank into his armchair with a huff. Scattered across the desk’s surface were invoices and letters from merchants in India, the current root of Humphrey’s problems. He’d dragged Edward into a meeting late this morning to discuss how best to expand their influence in the tea industry. According to Humphrey—and Edward couldn’t help but agree—the first step would be to monopolize the industry in England before expanding across the borders. And their biggest rival was Lord Henry Brown, the Marquess of Thanebridge. A man nearly as ruthless a businessman as Humphrey was.
Nearly.
Even so, the meeting they had secured with Lord Thanebridge required extensive preparations, according to Humphrey. Edward, on the other hand, didn’t know how much longer he could endure this.
“Lord Thanebridge sits on the House of Lords,” Humphrey continued. “His own influence extends past our industry and delves into construction and mining as well…”
Edward stopped listening. He knew all there was to know about Lord Thanebridge. He had done the research, had presented it all to his father even though he knew that it would not be deemed enough. Right now, they were going in circles and Edward could no longer pretend to focus.
He wandered over to the window, still sipping his whiskey, his father’s voice a drone in the background.
It was a lovely afternoon. One that would be much better spent outdoors atop a horse, or perhaps in the gardens with a good book. Not discussing business affairs.
“Are you listening?” Humphrey snapped, banging his hand on the table.
Edward looked over his shoulder at his father. Once upon a time, the anger on his father’s face would have frightened him into submission. But he was seven-and-twenty years old, a man with his own accomplishments. Though he would never care to admit it, Edward was partially the reason their business in the tea industry had become what it was. He didn’t need to fear his father anymore.
But it didn’t mean the resentment didn’t linger.
“Today is the day, you know,” Edward said calmly. Always calm, while Humphrey was a mass of unbridled rage.
Humphrey scowled at him. They looked so much alike that it bothered Edward at times. The same tall, athletic build. The same dark, wavy hair. The same striking blue eyes. Had his father left that constant scowl behind, perhaps he would even be deemed handsome.
“What are you talking about?” Humphrey grumbled. “We don’t have time for this.”
Edward faced the window again, but didn’t see anything but that fated day fourteen years ago. “The day she left. Do you remember what happened or was it all nothing but a foolish inconvenience for you?”
“Oh, not this again.” The frustration in Humphrey’s voice was stark. “What is wrong with you? How will you inherit the earldom if you keep clinging to such petty sentimentality?”
“She is my mother!” Edward didn’t shout. He stopped doing so long ago, when he’d vowed to be nothing like his father. But that didn’t mean the anger in his voice did not stand out.
“Was. She was your mother. And now, where is she, Edward?” Humphrey paused, as if he truly wanted a response to his question. “Dead. Gone from this world. Rather than lament on what we cannot change about the past, we need to focus on creating a future for ourselves.”
“A future that includes dominating everything you touch,” Edward said bitterly.
“Yes. Now let us continue.”
And that was that. No apologies. No explanations. Nothing. After fourteen years, Humphrey still didn’t deem it worthy.
Edward couldn’t stay here any longer. He set his glass down and headed for the door. “I think you can handle this all on your own, Father.”
“Edward, don’t you set foot—”
He closed the door on his father’s sentence. Edward stalked down the hallway, barking an order at the butler to fetch his coat and have a carriage prepared. With every step away from the study, his mood grew fouler, annoyed with himself for allowing his father to get under his skin like that. Edward had long since perfected the art of dealing with his father’s cold nature, but a day like this had those raw memories pulling at the emotions he’d tried to keep locked away for years.
He would never forget the day she walked through the door, her screams still echoing throughout the hallways. The manor had been so big back then, even as he began to grow into himself at the age of ten-and-three. But when his mother walked out the door, driven away by a heated argument she had with Humphrey, the walls seemed even further apart.
Ten days. The late Countess of Harenwood had been away from home for ten days, staying with her sister in Bath as she calmed down. To this day, Edward still didn’t know the nature of the argument, only that it had driven his fierce, beautiful mother out of the manor. On the tenth day, when she’d decided to return, a fever claimed her life.
It was a swift death, Edward had been told. She fell ill in the morning and the fever stole her breath by nightfall. Physicians assumed it was because of her fragile mental state, being away from home and the distress of her marriage, that caused her body to give up so quickly. Edward didn’t care. All he knew was that his mother was gone and his father continued with his life as if nothing had happened.
The anger and resentment he had been choking down for years came back up like burning bile in his throat. He didn’t have to wait long for his carriage and winced inwardly when he snapped at the coachman to take him to the museum. It was the only place he could think to go. Though he had inherited his father’s appearance, his mother’s love for literature and history was forever ingrained in him. He wanted to be surrounded by the things that reminded him of her.
Before long, the carriage pulled to a stop in front of the British Museum. He was inside within seconds, having visited so often that he had no need to procure tickets any longer. Inside, his angry steps slowed and he shoved his hands into the pockets of his coat. He let the rage simmer, walking without aim.
It wasn’t particularly busy today, which gave him some relief. When the London Season was in full swing, these hallways would be swarming with people. For now, only a few milled about, the people growing sparser when he delved into a room that housed the Egyptian exhibits.
“Please stop fidgeting, Annie. You are distracting me.”
Edward slowed, his eyes falling on a particular piece his mother had loved. It was only a collection of cracked vases and back then, Edward couldn’t understand her fascination with them.
“You can tell they were made with love and care,” she would say to him. “Much attention was put into creating these.”
Since she was an avid lover of art as well, he’d trusted her word on that.
“Milady, I think it is best that we leave now,” came a timid voice, breaking into Edward’s reminiscing. “Surely Lady Wentworth has woken from her nap.”
“It has only been a little more than an hour, Annie,” the calm voice of a lady nearby stated. “My aunt will sleep for another hour. And don’t forget that Father will be home late, so I have plenty of time.”
“What if His Grace returns early this evening?”
“He won’t,” she stated confidently.
Edward couldn’t concentrate. He wandered away from the vases to admire a set of hieroglyphics instead.
The voices followed.
“Don’t you have any faith in me, Annie?” came the voice again, light with humor. It was closer now. “I have snuck out away from home many times before and I have never been caught.”
“That was when we were in the countryside, milady. With the London Season upon us, His Grace will only become stricter. I do not think it is wise to invite his ire.”
“I won’t,” she chirped. “Because he simply will not know.”
Edward turned, intended to go the other way as to give the two women their privacy—and himself some peace of mind. Just as he did, he bumped into a small body with enough force that she seized his arm to steady herself.
“Forgive me,” he said quickly. Without thinking, he put a hand on her elbow to make sure she did not topple over. His gaze fell to a pair of deep, emerald eyes.
Large eyes. Ones he could feel himself falling into, forgetting where and who he was. For a moment, they simply stared at each other, her small, pink lips parting in surprise.
But then she jerked away from him and Edward took in the rest of her.
She was indeed small. He towered over her tiny frame and yet she pulled her shoulders back and met his eyes as if she were twice his size. Hair like spun gold curled at her temples, the rest tucked into a thick knot at the nape of her neck. Her cheeks were flushed, her skin like alabaster.
“What were you doing around there?”
It took Edward a moment to realize that she had asked the question, her tone dripping with accusation.
“Pardon me?” he asked, bemused.
She narrowed her beautiful eyes at him. “You seemed awfully close. Were you spying on me? Eavesdropping on my conversation?”
The spell she had inadvertently cast on him was broken instantly. Edward lifted a brow. “And who might you be? You ask me such a thing as if I should know you. Or care about who you are.”
“If you were not then perhaps, I was mistaken,” she said stiffly. “Though I find it quite odd that you were standing so close to us.”
“And I find it awfully odd that a lady of your obvious standing is here without a chaperone,” Edward shot back. He couldn’t help himself. The defiance packed into this small person was enough to intrigue him, rather than anger him.
“My chaperone is right here,” she stated, slinging her arm through the cowering lady’s maid beside her.
“Hm.” Edward hardly spared the maid a glance. “Would that be enough for your slumbering aunt, I wonder?”
The lady’s eyes went wide. “You were eavesdropping!”
“You were simply speaking too loudly. Tell me, Miss, do you make it a habit of picking a fight with strangers?”
Anger flared in her eyes. Edward fought his smile. He could see a battle waging within her, as if she was contemplating whether she should respond or not. He wished that she would.
But then her maid tugged on her arm and whispered something in her ear. Whatever it was must have been enough to calm her, somewhat.
The lady drew in a slow breath as if preparing herself for something. “You are right. Forgive me.”
“You sound quite sincere,” Edward drawled sarcastically.
She narrowed her eyes at him. “I do not care if you doubt my sincerity. I have apologised and now I shall take my leave. Please do not wander about this museum spying on other people, sir.”
With that, she turned and walked away. Edward watched her go until she was out of sight, humor tugging at his lips. How hilarious of her to apologize for her accusations in one breath and then accuse him again in the other. He wondered how his mother would have reacted to an encounter like this.
Somehow, he got the feeling the late countess would have liked her.
Chapter Three
Bella’s hands were still shaking. She gripped Annie’s arm a little too tightly as they hurried to the carriage. The stranger’s mirth-filled eyes lingered in her mind a little too long.
“Do you know who that was, milady?” Annie asked her once they were in the safety of the carriage.
Bella shook her head. She watched as the imposing building disappeared as the carriage pulled away. “No, I don’t. At least, I do not think that I do. In hindsight, perhaps I should not have snapped at him the way that I did.”
“Why did you?” Annie asked softly, clearly uncertain of whether she was passing her place by voicing such a question.
Bella sighed, burying her hands in her face. She was already ashamed of the entire interaction. That was not the impression she liked to make on strangers, but he had frightened her so much that she’d lashed out without thinking. “He reminded me too much of Lord Harold.”
“The second son of the Earl of Kenton?”
“Yes, the same. Do you recall how he hounded me while we courted? And the way he would report my every move to my father hoping that it would bring his favour? It was clear that he would stop at nothing to secure a marriage, even though he’d quickly made it clear that he only wanted my dowry and not me.”
“Oh, I see.”
Except, Annie did not understand. She couldn’t. When Bella had told Annie that she intended to sever her relationship with the lord, she had been appalled. He was handsome, attentive, and might have made a decent heir to her father’s dukedom.
But Bella saw him for the overly ambitious man that he truly was. She couldn’t stomach the thought of attaching herself to a man like him.
He hadn’t been the only one. From the day she turned ten-and-seven, gentlemen all but lined up to ask for her hand in marriage. She’d given them all chances, hoping that the next suitor would be someone who truly cared for her. But they’d all shown themselves to be egotistical, power-loving men who only wanted power and wealth.
Why did that man remind her so much of Lord Harold?
She had reason to be cautious, she knew. Especially since she hadn’t expected to come across anyone in such close quarters. What if he knew her father and intended to use this as blackmail to get closer to her? It had certainly happened before.
Even so, her reaction had been entirely rude and she was ashamed to have ended it that way. She hoped she never had to see him again.
Despite that, his striking blue eyes lingered in her mind all the way home.
The moment the carriage pulled into the driveway, Bella sensed that something was amiss. There was another carriage in the driveway as well, bearing the crest of her father’s dukedom. Surely he hadn’t returned home so early? He rarely came home before dinner and it wasn’t even night yet!
Annie lingered behind as they made their way up to the front door. Whatever stood on the other side, it was clear she did not want to be in the line of fire. Bella wished she could turn back herself.
Please don’t be on the other end, she silently prayed.
The moment she opened the door, her father’s hard glare greeted her.
“Good evening, Father,” Bella chirped, her heart fluttering with fear. “I did not expect you home so early.”
“Is that why you thought to sneak out of the house like a rat?” Lord Victor Redcliffe, the Duke of Redshire, would not spare her, she knew. With his legs apart, his arms crossed, and that glare capable of turning the hardest man into a bumbling mess fixed on her, Bella knew there was no chance of talking herself out of it.
But she was nothing if not hopeful. “I know how this must look but—”
“How this must look?” he barked. “You are smarter than that, Isabella. How this looks is the only thing that matters! You were out in London without a chaperone doing who knows what! Now when your disobedience reflects poorly on this family, what will you do?”
Bella tried not to hang her head in shame. He always had a way of making her feel as if she was nothing more than the dirt under his shoe. A constant disappointment that could not be fixed. No wonder he was so eager to marry her off lately.
“Father, I was careful,” Bella carefully explained. “And I brought a chaperone. My maid was with me.”
“Your maid,” Victor spat. Bella saw Annie flinched in the corner of her eye. “What good will that do you? Didn’t I tell you not to go anywhere without your aunt? She is an upstanding lady in London society and you have proven time and again that you are incapable of conducting yourself properly when left alone.”
Bella thought of the way she’d snapped at the stranger at the museum and winced. “I understand, Father. But I only wished for a bit of freedom—”
“You argue too much, child!” he bellowed, his voice reverberating within the foyer. “You should know when to simply stop talking! I shall hear no more of your foolish excuses. Go to your chambers and you shall remain there for the rest of the night.” He paused. Bella held her breath. “As a matter of fact, you shan’t leave this manor unless I deem it fit.”
“But, Father,” Bella began, despite the voice in the back of her head telling her to just be quiet, “the Season has begun. Shall I remain out of the public’s eye the entire time?”
“That is the price of your disobedience.” He waved a dismissive hand, stalking away. “Now go. I am done with you.”
Bella stared after him, then listened to the sound of his footsteps long after he was out of sight. Annie was still a quiet presence next to her, not daring to speak. Without another word, she made her way to her bedchamber, closed the door, and then sank to the floor to cry.
***
The hum of chatter reverberating throughout White’s Gentleman’s Club was usually a welcomed sound to soothe Edward’s troubled mind. But this evening was different. He gazed out the window, an untouched glass of brandy in one hand. He came here because he didn’t want to return home just yet and he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the lady at the museum.
“You’d better have a good reason for pulling me away from my training.”
A disheveled man sank into the chair across from Edward, raking his fingers through his already unruly brown strands. Edward wordlessly slid the decanter of brandy towards his friend. Lord Luke Bentley, the Viscount of Fellington, waved a dismissive hand. Edward left it there. His friend would be reaching for it soon enough.
“Isn’t loneliness and longing for company enough?” Edward drawled, reclining in his chair. He took in his friend’s frazzled appearance, as if he had rushed in getting dressed. “It has been so long since we have shared each other’s company, don’t you think?”
“Out with it, Edward. Have you fought with your father again?”
Edward masked his instant scowl by sipping his brandy.
Luke grinned. He’d always had an easy demanour, from the way he spoke to the boyish appearance he hadn’t quite grown out of. Even in the dim lighting of the club, his freckles stood out, his green eyes alight with humor.
“I’m right, aren’t I? He’s the only one capable of putting you in such a dour mood.”
“I’m not in a dour mood,” Edward grumbled and winced when he heard how much his tone contradicted his words.
“Yes, yes, so you say. What did he say this time? Did he pressure you again to marry? Or perhaps he has gotten more creative and has thrown a hapless young maiden in your path for you to take as your bride.”
“Jest all you wish, Luke. It is only a matter of time before you will have to take a wife yourself. Your title requires an heir, after all.”
“You and I both know that I have quite some time before I need to worry about that. You, on the other hand…”
Edward sighed. He didn’t want to have this conversation. He’d spent the past few months dodging his father’s attempts to get him married, distracting him as best as he could with business matters. But Luke was right. While his carefree friend still had years of bachelorhood ahead of him, Edward could feel the noose slowly tightening around his neck.
He didn’t mind the idea of marriage. He understood the logical reasoning behind it, understood that it was proper to marry first then have an heir later. Edward had never clung to the silly notion that he should fall in love with his future wife.
But that didn’t mean he wanted his father arranging a marriage that would only be means to strengthen his power and influence. Edward had no intentions of starting a family as a business transaction.
It had been a while since Humphrey had mentioned marriage to him. Edward knew better than to think that his father had decided to leave him alone.
“You’re right,” he confessed at last. “I could not stomach being in his presence any longer and so I left for the museum. To take my mind off things.”
“Ah. Today is the day then?” Luke didn’t really need to ask. He was Edward’s closest friend. He knew how many scars had been sliced into Edward’s heart the day his mother walked through that door.
“It reminds of me of her,” Edward went on, staring unseeingly into his untouched glass. “Today more than ever. Though my time was rudely interrupted by a feisty, blond lady.”
“Feisty, blond ladies.” Luke grinned. “They have always been my favourite.”
“I doubt this lady would have put that smile on your face. She attacked me out of nowhere.” At the look of horror that crept over Luke’s face, Edward chuckled. “Not physically, no. She accused me of eavesdropping on her conversation.”
“Were you?”
“Not intentionally. Though, I must say, I found it rather interesting. It seems she left her home without permission.”
“To go to the museum?” Luke wrinkled his nose in distaste. “I’m sure there are far more interesting places to go if one were to sneak out.”
“I suppose there is something to be said about a lady that eager to partake in world history.” Edward thought back on her blazing green eyes, so large they threatened to take over her face. A smile touched his lips. “Perhaps there is more to her than meets the eye.”
Silence met his words. It took Edward a moment to realize that Luke was only staring at him. He frowned. “What is it?”
Wonder filled Luke’s eyes, a mischievous grin lifting his lips. “You are smitten with her.”
Edward scoffed. “She is a stranger.”
“A stranger who has you grinning to yourself like a madman.”
Edward poured him the glass of brandy and placed it directly. “Have a drink and be quiet.”
Luke’s laughter echoed throughout the club, earning a few curious glances. Edward tried not to laugh, not wanting to encourage him. Once Luke got something in his mind, it would be hard to convince him of otherwise.
Smitten? Edward couldn’t recall ever feeling such a thing. He didn’t pay the opposite sex much mind save for the barest of polite greetings. Many ladies were simply shells of their upbringings and lessons, with carefully crafted words with no meaning between them and hobbies with no passion. Echoes of their mothers, their aunts, and the countless other ladies who bury themselves under the guise of who a ‘proper’ lady should be.
No one had ever snapped at him like that, save for his father. Edward supposed that counted for something.
I hope you enjoyed the preview of my new novel“Charmed in an Arranged Marriage” It will be live on Amazon soon…
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Very intriguing