© 2020 Angela Johnson
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This is a work of fiction. The characters, names, incidents, places, and dialogue are products of the author’s imagination, and are not to be construed as real. The views expressed within this work are the sole responsibility of the author and do not necessarily reflect the position of Cedar Fort, Inc., or any other entity.
Published by Sweetwater Books, an imprint of Cedar Fort, Inc.
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Library of Congress Control Number: 2020937911
Cover design by Shawnda T. Craig
Cover design © 2020 Cedar Fort, Inc.
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For Athenia, Sjayna, Braden,
Bridger, Brooklyn, Jaxtin,
Joslynn, Journey, and June
May you all find ways to
make your dreams a reality.
One
Phillip sat at the pianoforte, fingers moving across the ivory keys with a smoothness that came from years of practice and enjoyment. The instrument represented much to him; his father had presented him with it when he was fifteen years old as an apology. This piano sat in a private library, which was also a gift. Over the years his father, the Duke of Ashby, had presented him with books, rare finds of poetry, short stories, and his favorite, Shakespeare, all of which came as an apology.
The song he played was his composition that he had written for his mother. The melody reminded him of the caring way she raised him. As he played, he allowed the music to fill his mind and body. He realized he was rushing through the piece, so he slowed the tempo and moved with each note. He turned when a knock sounded on the door.
“Come in,” he called as he played. His mother entered, followed by Ashby, and smiled in appreciation, recognizing the tune. Phillip stopped playing to give attention to his father. His parents were accompanied by Lady Olivia Harrison and her parents, the Duke and Duchess of Norland.
“Phillip.” Ashby stood in the middle of the group. He was a tall, intimidating, and stiff man. “You are acquainted with Lady Olivia?”
“Yes, Father.” The Duke of Ashby and the Duke of Norland had been friends and enemies since their days at Oxford. Each year, Norland and his family visited Wentworth Hall for the summer months. Phillip and his identical twin brother, Edward, had spent more time in the outdoors on horses and childly pursuits than with Olivia, but he had seen her every summer since he was four years old.
Ashby cleared his voice with a nervousness, which was rare. “Norland and I have an announcement to make.” He shuffled his feet as he spoke. It was by far the oddest behavior his father had ever exhibited. Ashby’s posture wasn’t as stiff as normal. With the way he was standing, Phillip was able to meet his eyes without having to look up. Although they both had blue eyes, Ashby’s were usually clouded with anger and intrigue. “Norland and I have agreed to a marriage between Arundel and Olivia.”
Phillip didn’t care for titles. To men like his father and Norland, titles meant everything. A man without a title was as good as a servant to both dukes. As the oldest son, he would inherit the title of Duke upon his father’s death. It was rare for his father to refer to him as anything other than Arundel.
Phillip’s heart sank. He didn’t want an arranged marriage.
“The marriage will take place four weeks from today,” Norland stated. “The banns will be read in both our parish and the parish here at Wentworth Hall.”
Clearing his throat to get back into the conversation, Ashby took Phillip’s hand and placed it in Olivia’s. “You should spend time together over the next four weeks. I believe it is better to know a little about each other before the wedding night.”
Speechless, Phillip watched as his parents and her parents left the room. Phillip turned to make certain the door to the library was open due to propriety. He let go of Olivia’s hand and tried to think of something to say so he didn’t sound ignorant or foolish. Before he could gather his thoughts, she dipped her head, curtsied, and left the room.
He waited until he could no longer hear her in the hallway before he exited the library. He walked to his father’s den and found his parents conversing in low tones.
“May I speak with you?” he asked, after a soft knock on the door.
His father gave him a frustrated glare but allowed him to enter. Shutting the door so the conversation would not be overheard, Phillip gathered his thoughts to find the best possible way to approach the subject.
“Father, I realize I have not taken the last few London seasons seriously in regards to finding a wife. I am but twenty-three years old, and I hoped to wait at least another two years before getting serious about marriage.”
“This has nothing to do with the fruitless London seasons,” Ashby said, sitting behind his desk.
Phillip noticed the similarities and differences between himself and his father. They both had blue eyes and were tall, but the similarities stopped there. His father’s face was commonly marked with a scowl, which he claimed came from the stress of his position in society. His father also had dark brown hair, where Phillip’s was a dirty blond. Phillip preferred to smile and dream about the future. His father lived day by day.
“Mother, can you not help me with this?” Phillip turned pleading eyes toward her.
“Your father is responsible for the engagement. I don’t have a say in it.” She looked down at her hands, and he could see the remorse in her face.
“We realize this has been a shock for you and Olivia. We will allow four weeks for you both to come to terms with the engagement,” his father continued.
“Four weeks is not enough time to know the woman I am supposed to spend the rest of my life with. I prefer to be in charge of my life.”
His father stood and walked around the desk. This time he stood to his full height. There was no reservation in his posture. Phillip looked up into his father’s eyes, making an effort to match the angry stare. He walked so close to where Phillip stood, Phillip was forced to take a small step backward for comfort. “You should be out there getting to know your bride. And don’t think about breaking the engagement. If it is to be broken, she will have to be the one to do it.”
“Why?” It seemed like an idiotic question to ask. If he broke the engagement it would ruin Olivia’s reputation. But the tone his father used made him think the statement was more of a threat to him than a desire to preserve Olivia.
Ashby stood looking at him as though he were trying to decide if he should answer the question. After a short internal deliberation, he spoke. “Norland and I have a small bet between old friends. It isn’t anything for you to concern yourself over.”
“You’ve gambled my life away?” Incredulous over his father’s lack of care for him, he paced the room, trying to find something to say to stop the madness. His father had never taken Phillip’s feelings into consideration, and this engagement was a prime example. “You and Norland created an engagement for what purpose?”
“If Lady Olivia pulls out of the engagement, I get Norland’s lands, money, and titles.”
“And if I end the engagement?”
“You won’t be the one to end it, Arundel. The only way out for you is through death.”
Speechless, he stared at his father’s angry red face. He had to find a way out of the engagement, but it needed to be beneficial for both his father and Norland. Instead of begging to end the contract, he decided to ask for more time. “Please, Father. I beg of you, at least give us a year.”
“Four weeks, Arundel.”
“Father—”
He could tell when he had pushed his father too far, but his senses must have been off due to the shocking news of the betrothal. Focused on his father’s eyes, in an effort to match him look for look, he didn’t see his father’s hand come up until it was too late to move out of the way.
Ashby hit him on the side of his face. The sting of the blow hurt, but he wasn’t going to let a visible expression of the pain show for Ashby’s enjoyment. In a raised voice, his father continued. “Do I need to speak louder for you to understand the situation?” He hit Phillip again in the same spot.
There has to be a red outline of a hand on my face now, he thought as he glared into his father’s uncaring eyes.
“Are you finished arguing?”
Phillip moved backward and nodded in understanding. He left the room, rubbing the side of his face and hoping the sting of the rebuke would dissipate. In an effort to gather his thoughts, he walked out to the stables. The goal was to saddle his horse, Bassanio, and head out for a ride. I’ll marry the chit, he thought, hearing the bitterness.
His brother Edward sat waiting for him. Rushing over, Edward asked, “What is going on? Father and Norland spent half the morning in the den.”
“I’m expected to marry Lady Olivia in four weeks,” he said, shrugging as though he didn’t care.
“They expect you to marry in four weeks?” Edward asked, surprise written on his face.
“Yes.”
Laughing at the absurdity, Edward asked, “What do you plan to do?”
“I suppose I will have to get to know my bride, as Father now refers to her.” He emphasized the word “bride” and heard the angry tone in his voice. He wouldn’t be able to hide his distaste for the situation.
Pointing to the stable yard where two horses stood saddled and ready, Edward said, “I already saddled horses. Do you mind if I join you?”
“You’re welcome to ride with me, as long as you don’t talk about this engagement,” Phillip said, walking ahead of his twin brother to mount Bassanio.
The first Sunday as the banns were read, Phillip looked into Olivia’s brown eyes to assess her reaction. He thought he saw defiance and wondered if she would dare object when the vicar asked if there was a just cause known for the marriage not to proceed. But she stayed silent and the meeting continued forward.
“Lady Olivia?” he asked, running to catch up with her as they left the services.
“Yes?” she asked, her posture and voice showing annoyance at his presence.
“Will you walk back to Wentworth Hall with me?” He extended his arm as a gentleman offering to a lady.
“I suppose,” she said, “if I must.” The latter part of her statement was under her breath, and he wondered if he heard correctly.
Deciding to ignore her rudeness, he walked in companionable silence with her. The weight on his arm was uncomfortable—not because it was heavy, as she was a dainty woman, but it was more the tension in her body language and the stiffness of her posture. She never once laid her arm on his. Instead she held it in a stiff hover.
He looked up to the trees and thought about pointing to the birds and asking her if she enjoyed nature. But when he said the words in his mind, he decided it was a terrible way to start a conversation. Instead he found a topic he enjoyed.
“Have you read any good books lately?”
“Why did you want to walk with me?” she asked, pulling away from him.
At least she is speaking to me, even if she hasn’t any manners. But her rudeness caught him off guard, and he stared at her for a moment while he processed a response.
“I think we should at least be cordial if we are going to be married,” he finally said.
“We aren’t going to marry.”
Her abrupt words continued to surprise him. He had always seen her as a quiet and dignified woman. He realized he had never known her, and he did not like her.
“I am trying to make the best of this situation, and I would prefer to know you before we are wed. We are stuck in this engagement, so we should try to get along.”
“I don’t want to get to know you, my lord.” She uttered his title with so much contempt he had to wonder why she had such a dislike for him. She turned and walked away. He didn’t realize the speed a dainty woman could walk when angry. Her blonde hair danced as she ran to get away from him.
“Have I done something to make you not want to know me?” he called after her and increased his speed to catch up.
She turned and almost ran into him. “I would prefer to find a match without help. I don’t need my parents to sell me to someone I don’t want.”
“I understand,” he said, trying to make peace with her. “As you are aware, I have also been blindsided by this engagement, and I don’t have a choice.”
She stared at him as though she wanted nothing more than to hit him. The situation was not his fault. It was their fathers who had caused this issue.
“Then why are you going along with it? Can you not convince your father of the imprudent match we would make?”
“Have you spoken to your father?” he asked, throwing her challenge back to her. He had gone to his parents, and Ashby had left a bruise on Phillip’s upper cheek in response. He was not going to argue with the duke again.
“Yes. He won’t relent.”
“Neither will mine.”
Phillip had spent more than enough time over the last week thinking about a marriage to a woman he didn’t love. It wasn’t the perfect situation, but then the upper class rarely made decisions of marriage based on love. He came to realize that even if he had found a woman of his choosing during the London seasons, it would’ve had to be a woman in his same social class with connections.
“My mother told me marriage does not have to be love,” she said as she continued to glare in his direction.
“As have my parents informed me,” he responded, turning his head to look away from her.
She looked as though she wanted to confide in him. He waited for her to begin speaking but realized if they were going to make it back in time for the garden party his parents were hosting, they would have to start walking. He held his arm out to her again and pointed toward Wentworth Hall.
As they walked, again in a deafening silence, he wondered why she was so adamant against the marriage. He was not happy with the situation, but he’d consigned himself to his fate.
“Is there someone else?” he asked, and then wanted to take the question back as she glared at him and pulled her arm away. She again increased her speed.
Emboldened now he had put the question out in the open, he also increased his speed and tried to goad her into answering. “Am I correct? You have another man you are hoping to marry and this ruins your plans?” He couldn’t stop the smile from crossing his face as he said the words, realizing he’d figured out her indifference.
She turned to him and pushed him away. Then, without any warning, she stomped on his foot and kicked him in the shins. She ran toward Wentworth Hall while he hopped on one foot, trying to ease the pain before putting pressure on it again.
He entered the house, to find his brothers, Edward and Charles, laughing and his sisters holding hands over their faces to hide their amusement.
“You’re getting along rather well,” Edward chimed.
“Amusing,” Phillip said, glaring as he passed by them.
He’d give up the position as heir to get out of the engagement.
He continued into the hall and heard Olivia complaining to her parents regarding his manners and inappropriate questions. He raised his eyebrows as he passed by. Ashby gave him a questioning look, but he shrugged and continued up to his bedchamber to change before the guests arrived.
Phillip pulled the bell cord to summon Edward’s valet, as his was out of town. While Phillip waited, he brooded over the engagement contract. He didn’t want to be the heir and wanted to make the choice when it came to marriage.
“My lord?” Thomas asked as he came in the room.
Phillip turned in surprise as his own valet entered. “I didn’t realize you were back. When did you arrive?”
Thomas crossed the room and pulled two options of jackets from the wardrobe. “I arrived an hour ago, my lord.”
“How is your mother?” Phillip didn’t realize Thomas would return so soon, as his mother was ill. Thomas had left the previous week to visit and care for her.
“She passed away, my lord.”
Phillip looked at him in surprise. “Why didn’t you tell me she was so ill? Why aren’t you in full mourning? Thomas, you should take more time to mourn. Edward’s valet can help me.”
“No, my lord. I would prefer my mother’s passing be kept silent.”
“If you change your mind, you have my permission to take leave. I’m sorry for your loss.” Confused, he allowed Thomas to continue to help him. He didn’t understand the desire to keep the death silent.
“Thank you, my lord. I wouldn’t want to cause distress to you and your family. My mother wouldn’t be happy to know I told you. Please forget about it.” Thomas was stiff and distant in his attention to Phillip. “Which jacket would you like to wear to the party?”
“The brown. I think I will escape early and go for a ride.”
“Where do you plan to ride, my lord?”
“The meadow. Do you think the pockets are big enough to pack a book?” Phillip loved reading in the meadow. The stream and the spring budding trees made reading Shakespeare’s sonnets come to life.
The Earl of Arundel (Earls of England Book 1) Page 1