Marriage by Fairytale Series: Book 4
Fairest
of Them
All
Ruth Ann Nordin
This is a work of fiction. The events and characters described herein are imaginary and are not intended to refer to specific places or living persons. The opinions expressed in this manuscript are solely the opinions of the author and also represent the opinions or thoughts of the publisher.
Fairest Of Them All
All Rights Reserved
Copyright 2019 Ruth Ann Nordin
Cover Photo of woman and chair Period Images. https://www.periodimages.com All rights reserved – used with permission.
Cover Photo made by Book Wizz.
This book may not be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in whole or in part by any means including graphic, electronic, or mechanical without expressed written consent of the publisher/author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Epilogue
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Chapter One
April 1826
Miss Viola Keane stood by the window of the drawing room as the gentlemen left for the funeral. As much as she wanted to go, she couldn’t. Being a lady, her sensibilities were considered too delicate for the service. It hadn’t always been that way, of course. In the past, ladies used to attend funerals. But the Ton had its rules, and ladies had to follow them, even if it meant they couldn’t grieve openly for the death of their brother.
She gripped the drape next to her. She didn’t even know if she could cry given her fear of losing everything. She’d only just found out that her brother’s estate wasn’t financially secure. This whole time, Oliver hadn’t spoken a word about how serious the situation was.
She thought of her twin sisters, Pamela and Joanna. What was she supposed to do about them? They were only fifteen. Even her widowed aunt barely had enough to get by. That was why she’d come to live here with them. There were no relatives who had enough to take care of them. She closed her eyes. If she wasn’t careful with the money they had left, they would be facing destitution before the end of the year.
“Whoever marries the Duke of Sutherton would do very well financially,” Viola heard a lady softly say to her right.
At first, Viola thought someone was talking to her, so she opened her eyes and turned from the window. The lady who had spoken was with another lady, and they were standing at the other window. Though Viola didn’t know them very well, she knew they were the wives of two gentlemen who’d gone to her brother’s funeral.
“No lady in her right mind would dare marry the Duke of Sutherton,” her companion replied. “Anyone who marries him dies in under a year.”
“Maybe they were sickly,” the lady replied.
The companion snorted under her breath. “All three of them? I doubt it. If I weren’t married, I wouldn’t take my chances, even if he is offering his next bride’s family three hundred pounds simply for marrying him.”
Viola debated whether or not she should get involved, but when she saw they were walking away from her, instinct propelled her to hurry after them.
“May I have a word with you both in private?” Viola asked.
The two ladies faced her, eyes wide and both growing pale. “Forgive us, Miss Keane. We meant no disrespect by discussing gossip at a time like this.”
“I realize that,” Viola assured them. “That’s not why I want to talk to you.” She gestured to the drawing room doors. “Do you mind?”
They glanced at each other before nodding. Viola led them out of the room, only glancing once to make sure Pamela and Joanna were going to be all right without her. The two were on a settee with their aunt, who was talking to them.
Viola took the two ladies to her brother’s den. As soon as they were in the room, she closed the door and faced them.
“Is it true?” Viola asked, deciding to get right to the point. “Is there really someone willing to give a lady’s family three hundred pounds if she marries him?”
“Yes, it’s true,” the lady said. “We heard it from Lady Cadwalader herself, and she makes it a habit of knowing what she’s talking about.”
Viola knew who Lady Cadwalader was. In fact, anyone who’d been in London for a day knew who Lady Cadwalader was. She was the most important member of the Ton. Reputations rose and fell based on her opinion of people. And she was highly regarded as someone who told the truth.
“Also, the duke has sent a messenger through London stating the offer,” the lady’s companion added. “He’s seeking out any available lady he can find. It doesn’t matter what her lineage or financial situation is.”
“Are you telling me he has no requirements in mind for the next wife?” Viola asked.
“None from what we can tell,” the lady replied.
“I wonder why he’s so anxious to marry,” Viola said. There had to be a reason for it.
The two ladies shrugged, but it was the companion who said, “That’s what everyone wants to know. Even Lady Cadwalader can’t figure it out. She doesn’t even know what the duke looks like. He’s been in London for almost a month, and no one’s seen him. He stays in his townhouse all the time. The only person who’s emerged from the townhouse at all is his step-daughter, and she’s always accompanied by a maid.”
How curious. Though, one could reason that a month wasn’t a long time. Maybe he was busy getting things set up in his townhouse. “Where did he and his step-daughter come from?” Viola asked.
“One of the servants let it slip that they came from his country estate that’s a three-days’ journey from London,” the companion replied. “We don’t know any more than that. The fact that’s he’s offering so much money for a lady to marry him is all we really know.”
“I suppose since you were taking care of your brother, you didn’t have time to hear the gossip,” the lady added, a sorrowful note in her tone. “We’re both sorry for your loss. We certainly meant no disrespect by discussing this on the day of your brother’s funeral. Again, please forgive us.”
Viola nodded, though she was secretly glad they had been gossiping. This just might be the answer she was looking for. If the duke wasn’t particular about a lady’s age…if he didn’t mind that his next wife was well past her Seasons…
“I won’t keep you two any longer,” she told the two ladies. “Thank you for satisfying my curiosity.”
As she went to the door, one of the ladies asked, “You’re not going to marry him, are you?”
Viola could tell they were appalled by the idea. She suspected most ladies in London wouldn’t dare marry someone who was not only desperate for a wife but had already gone through three of them. Instead of answering them, she offered them a smile and said, “I appreciate your kindness and support by coming here today to express your condolences over
my brother’s death. I must return to my sisters and aunt.”
She left them, ignoring their bewildered expressions. She hurried down the hall, lifting the hem of her black gown so it wouldn’t slow her down. She arrived at the drawing room. She didn’t know most of the ladies who had decided to wait for their husbands, brothers, and fathers to return from the funeral. She knew her brother had many friends, but it hadn’t dawned on her just how many he’d had until today. There had to be at least forty gentlemen who went to the funeral.
Her brother was so unlike her. He got along well with so many people. Ever since they were children, he had a charming way about him. While she…
Well, she had trouble knowing what to say, especially in a room full of people. She was more comfortable fading into the background. It was why her brother hadn’t had dinner parties here. He had known how uncomfortable people made her, and he hadn’t ever done anything to make her feel awkward.
Bypassing the ladies and children, she went over to her sisters and aunt. With a glance around to make sure no one was paying attention to them, she knelt by the settee. “I have good news,” she whispered. “I just found out there’s a gentleman who’s looking for a wife. He’s offering a substantial sum of money to her family if she marries him.”
Her aunt’s eyebrows furrowed. “You don’t intend to marry someone you don’t know, do you?”
“He’s offering three hundred pounds,” Viola said.
Her aunt gasped, and Joanna asked, “Is that a lot of money?”
“It is,” Viola replied. “It’s enough to provide for you, Pamela, and Aunt Maud for the rest of your lives. If I marry him, you three won’t ever have to worry about money. We can even pay off Oliver’s debts. You can stay here in this townhouse. This will take care of our problems.”
“But you’re speaking about marriage,” Maud whispered. “Who is this gentleman, and why would he make such an offer?”
Viola chose not to answer her aunt’s second question. She, herself, didn’t know why he would offer so much money, and it wouldn’t be wise to guess in case she was wrong. The best thing she could do was focus on the things she could answer. “He’s the Duke of Sutherton, and he and his step-daughter came to London recently.”
Her aunt frowned. “I’ve heard of him somewhere.” Her expression grew thoughtful as she tried to dig up the memory.
“It doesn’t matter where you heard of him,” Viola said. “What matters is that he could take care of us. Ever since I realized what Oliver did with the family’s money, I haven’t been able to sleep, let alone concentrate on anything.”
“The burden isn’t yours alone. You have us,” Maud argued.
“But I’m the one best suited to take care of things,” Viola replied.
Her aunt was past the age of bearing children, so she couldn’t offer that to a prospective husband. As for Joanna and Pamela… They were too young to marry. Viola was the logical choice. She was the only choice. None of them had anything else to offer in order to dig themselves out of the financial pit Oliver had thrown them into.
“I’m going to talk to the Duke of Sutherton about a marriage,” Viola said. “I just hope I’m not too late.”
“Do you think lots of ladies will be lining up to marry him?” Pamela asked.
“I don’t know if anyone else will take him up on his offer or not,” Viola said. “What I know is that we need the money, and this is a way I can get it for us.”
“I don’t know,” her aunt replied. “Something about this doesn’t seem right, but I can’t put my finger on it.”
Viola squeezed her hand in a comforting gesture. “Everything will be fine. I’m not a little girl. I’m a grown lady. I’m old enough to make this decision.”
“I know you’re old enough to make the decision,” her aunt hurried to say. “Between you and your brother, you were always the more sensible one. He was ruled by his emotions. As much as I hate to admit it, if you had been in charge of the estate, we wouldn’t be in this situation right now.”
“Maybe wisdom comes from being the oldest child,” Viola replied.
“I don’t think wisdom has anything to do with what order you were born in,” Joanna argued.
Pamela snickered. “You only say that because you’re the youngest.”
“I’m only younger than you by two minutes,” Joanna pointed out.
“Let’s not get into a quarrel,” their aunt said. “This is a day of mourning for your brother.”
Joanna and Pamela immediately grew serious.
Maud turned her gaze to Viola. “You are an intelligent lady. If you think this is the best course of action, then you have my full support.”
“Thank you.” Viola rose to her feet and hugged her aunt.
“You’re not going to speak with the duke today, are you?” her aunt asked.
“No, but I am going to send a request to meet with him about the possibility of marriage.”
Before her aunt could stop her, she went to the desk in the drawing room, ignoring the others who, for the most part, seemed content to stick with their own groups. A couple of ladies went over to her aunt and sisters to offer their condolences as Viola sat at the desk and opened the drawer. Glad no one was going to bother her, she pulled out a piece of parchment, dipped the quill in the ink, and then started to write.
***
A reply to her missive came before the end of the day. His Grace had written that she could come by his residence the next afternoon for an interview. The choice of wording struck her as strange. He made it sound like she was inquiring about a job instead of a marriage. Surely, he wasn’t going to treat their marriage that way.
She pushed the thought aside. He was offering the bride’s family three hundred pounds. Maybe, for him, this was a business arrangement. Maybe there was nothing personal about it.
Though she had to wear her mourning clothes, she asked the lady’s maid she and her aunt shared put her hair in a style that was popular. Afterwards, she put on black onyx jewelry to help make herself prettier. It’d been ages since she’d made an effort to look attractive. She had forgotten how long such a process could take.
By the time she made it to the duke’s townhouse, she had only a minute to spare. She wasn’t used to being late for anything. Ever since she was a child, she liked to be early. Being early meant never having to rush. But today, she was rushing. It was her lack of foresight that delayed her. She would have to remember to give herself an extra half hour to get dressed if she ended up marrying the duke. Even if she was past her prime, she owed it to him to make herself as attractive as possible.
Out of breath, she knocked on the door. Recalling the missive the duke had sent her, she hurried to unfold it. She took a moment to close her eyes and compose herself. She had no idea how many other ladies the duke was going to meet today. She was in competition with them. It was like being in her Season all over again.
She opened her eyes and straightened her back. She could do this. She had to do this. Whatever it took, she had to secure a marriage with the Duke of Sutherton.
The door opened, and a footman stood in front of her.
She waited for him to greet her before she introduced herself. “Good afternoon. I’m Miss Keane. The Duke of Sutherton asked me to come by.” She showed him the missive.
“Ah, yes, Miss Keane.” The footman nodded and gestured for her to enter. “We have been expecting you.”
Since he didn’t take the missive, she folded it back up and entered the townhouse. She followed him to the drawing room.
The room was bright. The purple curtains were parted, and the windows were open just enough to allow fresh air into the place. A casual glance around the room told her the duke was a wealthy gentleman. The furniture was new. The colors were vibrant, as if everything had just been painted. There were trinkets on the fireplace mantle, tables, and the desk that were probably more expensive than the gown she was wearing. The overall effect was breathtaking. It looked as i
f this room had been prepared specifically for his arrival in London. She wondered if the rest of the townhouse was like this.
“I’ll let the butler know you are here,” the footman told her. “Would you like to eat or drink anything?”
She was too nervous to have an appetite, but she might be able to manage to drink something. “Something to drink would be nice, thank you.”
“Is there anything in particular you wish to drink?”
“Any kind of tea is fine. I’m not picky.”
She wasn’t sure if that would be a selling point or not. She’d overheard her brother telling her about some wives who liked to nitpick about every little thing and how annoyed his friends were by it. She didn’t wish word to get to the duke that she was like that. Besides, she honestly didn’t care what she drank. She was much too nervous to care.
The footman pulled out the chair in front of the desk. “Please, have a seat.”
Surprised he should instruct her to go to the desk, it took her a moment before she obeyed him.
Once she did, he left the room.
She took a deep breath. At least she was no longer out of breath. That, in itself, was an improvement. But she didn’t know how good that was when her heart was pounding fiercely in her chest. Everything hinged on this afternoon going perfectly. She couldn’t afford to mess anything up.
As if fate was mocking her, one of the pins in her hair fell out. With a gasp, she hurried to retrieve the item off the floor. She slid the pin back into her dark hair.
She thought the moment had gone unnoticed until she saw the butler coming over to her with a cup of tea. Face warm, she put her hands in her lap and straightened up. Would he tell the duke she was clumsy? Did the pin falling out ruin her hairstyle? Could she fix it before the duke came into the room? She scanned the room. There wasn’t a mirror to check her reflection.
The butler put the cup on the desk. “I hope you like black tea.”
“Uh, yes.” She cleared her throat. “I do. Thank you.”
Fairest of Them All (Marriage by Fairytale Book 4) Page 1