Anthony thought for a moment of remaining silent and then decided against it, pointing out, “Need I remind you, Mr Patterson, I have been interrupted during our fight with the French to come and take care of this farce?”
“Yes, though the St Clairs have a long English lineage, also, Your Grace,” Mr Patterson added, and from the way his foot tapped, Anthony could tell that the solicitor’s frustration was growing. “This is the third such letter I have received from the Comte, and I fear he shall not send another, though the man is quite adamant of this marriage. I, for one, believe you should seriously consider it. The Comte offers a considerable dowry.”
“I am not a man interested in money!” Anthony boomed automatically, and the solicitor shied away. The moment the words left his lips, Anthony pursed them, biting the side of his tongue to stop himself from saying more.
I should not blame the poor man for the hand I have been dealt,he reminded himself, yet he couldn’t stop himself from blaming him. After all, it always seemed to be the solicitors who brought bad news, just as his father always had.
Had he not been so frustrated, he might have apologised to Patterson, but although he knew the man was only trying to help, he couldn’t deny the fact that every option he suggested was one that Anthony would never choose for himself but only for the good of his family.
Am I always to suffer for the happiness of others?he wondered.
“With all due respect, Your Grace, you must make an exception here.”
Anthony closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. The headache that had begun at the backs of his eyes and spread up into his temples was enough to tell him that his solicitor was right. Since his return to England, he had suffered far more sleepless nights than during his time on the frontlines in Spain.
“Do what you must,” Anthony snarled through gritted teeth, throwing the letter in his hand back in the solicitor’s direction. “But if the girl is ugly, I shall hold you personally responsible.”
It was all Anthony could think to say to keep hold of his sanity. Marriage had been the absolute last thing on his mind all these years. In fact, he had hoped never to marry at all after the terrible situation of his mother abandoning them with their father for another man when he had been little more than a boy.
“As you wish, Your Grace.” Mr Patterson nodded. Having got what he came for, the man hurried to his feet and began to rush from the room.Elizabeth and Emily shall be pleased,Anthony thought grimly, remembering just how excitable they became at the mention of marriage of any kind.
Little did they know that this dukedom had cursed them all. Anthony alone shouldered that burden; only he knew that his extensive savings and military wages were a drop in the ocean when it came to the debts owed on the estate that now belonged solely to him.
“Mr Patterson,” Anthony said, stopping the man at the door. The moment the solicitor turned back to look at him, he stared pointedly at the man and growled, unable to hold his tongue due to his frustration. “Know that you have damned me and both of my sisters.”
Chapter 2
It wasn't always like this. During her childhood, Penelope had enjoyed her life with the St Clairs. Having been born to the lady's maid, Rose Dupont, Penelope had been blessed to live in a beautiful home and had even experienced an education not many others of her class could boast about.
She had practically been raised alongside the late Comte's daughter, Clara, and all had been well. That was until a terrible accident while out hunting had left him terribly injured.
Eventually, he had succumbed to his wounds but in the time before his death, Penelope had been the one to nurse him. She had been the one to sit at his bedside and hold his hand while he fought back the fear of where he was headed. It had been her who had spoon-fed him and bathed him, keeping him comfortable until his time.
And yet, all that seemed forgotten now that his brother had become Comte. Penelope had been unofficially demoted from lady's maid and nursemaid to kitchen maid almost the moment the late Comte was in the ground. Things had changed practically overnight, and the people she had once thought of as family had turned on her.
Standing in the hallway outside the library, she could hear them talking now. She could hear them making their plans for the future. The Duke of Chatham's name had been on the lips of everybody in the French household, and Penelope could hear them talking of him again.
"Finally, it seems Mr Patterson has got through to the duke! He has accepted the proposal!" Pierre Vigneault, the current Comte and Clara's uncle, announced. Penelope could imagine him now, sitting all high and mighty in the desk chair that had once been his brother's and his father's before him. "Clara, my dear, you are to be a duchess!"
"Oh, this is wonderful news! Simply marvellous!" Lady Cecily exclaimed. Though she still wore black in mourning of her late husband, she most definitely did not sound grief-stricken. Penelope's own heart ached for the late Comte, and she once more began to feel as though she was the only one who had not forgotten him.
If her mother were still alive, she might have pointed out that life went on and one must not linger on the past, but Penelope was not her mother. She was most definitely not all sunshine and rainbows, especially not after all the St Clairs had put her through over the last year. They were making her life perfectly intolerable.
It had been weeks since Clara had scalded her with the tea that she claimed was not hot enough, weeks since Penelope had decided to leave, and yet she had yet to come up with a plan that would not leave her destitute or worse, dead. As an unmarried woman with only one job in all her life, she had no references to her name and little hope of making her own way in the world.
If only Michel were here,she thought as she remained in the shadows outside the library, listening for any one of them to call for a maid to tend them. Though she was loathed to do it, Lady Cecily had refused to hire a new lady's maid since Penelope's mother's passing, and so that job had fallen to her also.
She was worked to the bone, the house residents asking for her to tend to them even when there were others on staff to do so. A part of her couldn't help wondering if they were punishing her for something, though when she thought about it, she couldn’t for the life of her imagine what it could possibly be.
"You shall travel to England sometime later this week and meet the duke for yourself," the Comte continued, and although Penelope heard yet more excitement from Cecily, Clara seemed awfully quiet. Perhaps her uncle was giving her his usual expression, willing her to be seen and not heard, as he so often did.
The Comte seemed to be the only person on earth who could quiet Clara St Clair, having the same effect on her that her own father had once had. Perhaps once, Penelope might have felt for her. In the past, the two had lived practically side by side, learning and growing together, even sharing in similar education and yet now, something had changed the closeness between them. Something had happened since Clara's father's death, which had left Penelope feeling entirely and truly alone.
"You will be a perfect lady, and you will ensure that nothing in the duke's mind changes on the matter of the engagement," the Comte continued in his usual authoritative voice. "Having an English ally at a time like this is of the utmost importance."
Penelope cringed at that. Ever since she had been a little girl, her mother had instilled upon her a need for love, happiness, and true connection in a relationship. Though she had never met her father, his death having come before her birth, her mother had spoken of him often, and now Penelope could think of nothing worse than marrying a man for political reasons or any other reason other than love.
Clara would probably call me a simple fool for even imagining I could ever have such a thing,Penelope thought even as she felt a little satisfaction at the thought that perhaps Clara would not get to experience such a thing either. To be shipped off to England to marry a man she had never met wasn't exactly true and lasting love. And yet, Penelope thought,even that would be better than this.