All the planning in the world couldn’t ensure a happy marriage if he resented her now.
Did he miss her, even the tiniest little bit?
She missed him.
How had she come to rely upon his friendship, his nearness, in so short a time as they’d had together? How had it occurred that his presence in her life gave it new meaning? She wished he would write to her. She wished even more that he would visit her at Raven’s Park before summer’s end.
He did neither.
Was he punishing her? That must be his reason. He must be very angry with her. She’d taken away his choices—his choices and his freedom. Oh, but she hoped she was doing the right thing, for both of their sakes.
When the time came to leave for London, Natalie’s emotions were as brittle as a dried rose. Climbing into the carriage with her mother, she glanced down to see her hand shaking. She could barely untie her bonnet. And they had not even left Raven’s Park yet.
They could have completed the journey in one day but had decided to travel at a leisurely pace and stop for the night at an inn. It was an unnecessary delay, but Natalie had been unable to convince her mother to forgo it.
Darlington and Stone were already in London, having left the week before, but Father and Peter rode mounts alongside the carriage. Natalie suspected Peter would become impatient and ride ahead before they passed through the local village. The large entourage of coaches carrying baggage and servants followed at an even slower pace. Oh, if only one could fly!
Over the past few weeks, she had became more and more anxious to speak with Garrett, her fiancé. Good Lord, with over three hundred invitations having been sent out, she hoped to goodness that she did, in fact, have a fiancé!
****
A week in London, and still, Natalie hadn’t heard one word from her betrothed. She knew he’d signed the marriage contracts with her father, but he had not bothered yet to wait upon her. And a lady could not call upon a gentleman. She wasn’t a harridan, for goodness sake! And she most certainly would not go to his home in search of the proposal she’d hoped he’d make officially, once and for all.
The first event of the Little Season was nearing, and as each day passed, Natalie’s anxiety grew into nothing short of terror. She hoped it would all be worth it.
She could do nothing but wait.
****
As had become her daily ritual, after taking breakfast, Natalie expelled some of her restlessness by pacing the length of the room while her mother perused the gossip columns. Since arriving, she’d been unable to sit still long enough to read a book, or attempt any sewing projects, or focus on anything else, really, except for her tenuous situation.
On this particular morning, she’d twisted her handkerchief into a nearly unrecognizable knot, when Mr. Thomas, the butler, stepped in to announce an unscheduled caller. Her mother glanced up, startled, when Natalie squealed in delight. The familiar face she saw behind the butler was a person she’d not expected to see so soon.
She had missed Lilly, now the Duchess of Cortland, more than she’d realized. Dressed in an impeccable morning gown of mint green and sky blue, her dear friend wore a jaunty hat atop her elegantly coiled platinum hair.
“Lilly!” Natalie rushed over to her friend, holding both hands out to grasp hers.
Lilly smiled and held Natalie’s hands in hers. “I have missed you so much! When Aunt Eleanor told me you were in town, I came right over!” She squeezed Natalie’s hands warmly. “The duke and I have just arrived back from our honeymoon, but my thoughts have been with you since the day we left.”
“Please, sit down, Your Grace,” Natalie’s mother invited, using the title that ought to have been bestowed upon her own daughter. Nonetheless, she spoke in polite and welcoming tones. “Your wedding travels were pleasant and uneventful then?”
Lilly nodded and then went on to tell of some of the places she and Cortland had traveled to. She appeared to be so very happy. She moved with a lightness that hadn’t been there before. In fact, she glowed.
“But that is not why I have imposed upon you this morning. I have come because my aunt informed me of your, er…situation.” And then looking at Natalie with a gleam in her eye, she added, “It is true, then? You are to marry Lord Hawthorne, and I am to have two new cousins?”
Natalie hadn’t considered the familial connection between Lilly and Garrett. But of course, if Lady Sheffield was Garrett’s aunt and Lilly’s aunt, then the two of them would be cousins. “You are not related to Lady Eleanor through Lord Sheffield?”
Lilly smiled warmly. “Lady Sheffield is my late mother’s older sister. Lord Hawthorne’s father was their brother. He was the middle child. So, yes, we are first cousins! You can imagine my astonishment when I read my aunt’s letter.”
“Are you acquainted with Lord Hawthorne, with Garrett?” Natalie asked the question cautiously. For the older earl had attempted to kill Lilly. He’d kidnapped Lilly, but she’d managed to get away. She’d knocked over a lantern filled with fuel while climbing out of a second-story window at Maple Hall. She’d been lucky to escape unharmed. It was why the estate came to be in ruins.
Natalie placed her hand on Lilly’s arm. Lilly had been so very brave! She’d been so strong! Natalie felt ashamed for her own self-pitying thoughts of late, considering.
Lilly’s smile disappeared for a moment. “Despite all that occurred with his father, with the old earl and myself, I have never spoken with his heir. I never thought there would be any reason to. But he had nothing to do with what Hawthorne tried to do to Michael and me. He is his own person, and unless I discover anything to contradict this, I am happy to meet him, to welcome him into our lives—if he wishes it.”
Natalie tilted her head sideways. “Does it upset you greatly? Knowing your cousin was raised by…a murderer? Because I must tell you Garrett is a most honorable gentleman. He has proven this to me on numerous occasions.”
“It did, initially, but my aunt has convinced me of his good character. My sister and parents have passed on, and I believed Glenda and Aunt Sheffield were my only living relations. I am pleased to have found more family.”
“So with Glenda being married to Joseph, you are not only to be my sister-in-law, but my cousin-in-law as well. Would you think me a dolt for not having considered this connection before this morning?”
Natalie’s mother tugged at the bell pull. “It is nearing nuncheon, Your Grace. Will you stay for sandwiches and tea?”
Lilly turned her attention to include Lady Ravensdale. “I’d be delighted. But what I wish to ask you is what Michael—His Grace”—Lilly corrected herself with a blush—“and I can do to help.” Looking back to Natalie, she explained. “I understand there was something of a situation earlier this summer? It sounds harrowing, but you look to be well. Are you completely recovered then?”
Natalie summoned a faint smile, as her nerves, which had disappeared for the last few minutes, made a clamoring return. “I am fine now, Lilly, but Lord Hawthorne faces a few social hurdles. And if he cannot manage to clear them, I’m not certain my groom will show up for our wedding.
“Tell me what I can do. I am a duchess now, ladies, as you well know! And that must be good for something!”
At these words, Natalie’s mother leaned forward. “As a matter of fact…”
****
Through the post, Lord Ravensdale had confirmed to Garrett that his father was Mr. Arthur Winters. He and Lady Ravensdale, having a close relationship with Lady Sheffield, had suspected this for years. The events surrounding his birth and then later, the uncanny resemblance between Garrett and the late Mr. Arthur Winters validated their suspicions. Natalie’s father wrote to him that Mr. Winters had been a man of gentle birth, with no claims to any title or nobility. This information served as confirmation of that which Garrett had already come to believe as truth.
Garrett himself had examined more closely the drawings stored in the trunk. And yes, he saw a strong resemblance. He w
as surprised he’d not noticed it initially. He was coming to terms with the reality that William Castleton had not fathered him. His own chances of siring a healthy child, as far as he was aware, were the same as any other man. He could partake of his marriage bed with no concerns in that area.
Garrett also received word from both his solicitors and the crown, with their determination regarding Garrett’s claim to the title. Both assured him that his position as the Earl of Hawthorne was secure. They based the declaration upon “marital paternity presumption.” The letter from the crown explained that “a child born during a marriage is to be considered the offspring of the husband.” Even a child born of a wife’s adulterous affair would be recognized as a legitimate child of the marriage. His solicitor explained in the letter that this rule recognized a husband could rebut the marital presumption only by proving his impotence or his absence from the country. Since the late Lord Hawthorne had never rebutted Garrett’s claim as his son, then no one could question his inheritance. Even if the fact became common knowledge, the law would continue to recognize Garrett as the legal heir. At this point, there was no long-lost relative willing to step forward and challenge his ascendency.
Garrett presumed it would not be convenient to find somebody else willing to take on the rebuilding of Maple Hall. Might as well be himself as anyone else.
And so he would retain the title about which he’d grown to have very mixed feelings.
Upon arriving in London, Garrett went directly to Burtis Hall, one of the more imposing manors in Mayfield. He’d visited Ravensdale before, but only on business, and with much less at stake. He and the earl were to sort out the marriage contracts.
Unless of course, Natalie had come to her senses and decided to call the entire thing off.
Each time he expressed his concerns, they fell on deaf ears. When he sat down with Ravensdale that morning, the earl merely lit a cigar and shrugged. “Nothing to do but wait and see.” His future father-in-law showed a surprising lack of concern.
Garrett felt as though he were falling off a cliff.
In drawing up the marriage contract, Lord Ravensdale insisted on including the same dowry he’d promised the Duke of Cortland. Garrett agreed, only so long as the majority was put into trust for Natalie and their children. He would not take her property. The earl did not argue this point. The dowry encompassed considerable wealth, and Garrett refused to benefit in any way, monetarily, from this marriage.
After agreeing upon, and signing the contracts, Garrett had no legitimate reason to wait around. The ladies had gone out that morning. They had left earlier for some fittings on Bond Street and whatnot. Lord Ravensdale jovially slapped Garrett on the back and told him that with women, there was no telling how long they would be out. “Get used to it, my boy,” he said, walking Garrett to the door.
Garrett had hoped to spend a few moments alone, in Natalie’s company. He’d not spoken with her for over a month. He wanted to behold her smile, hear her laugh. And then he would give her a tongue-lashing for planning their very public farce of a wedding, which promised to be the social debacle of the decade. He still wasn’t sure what to think of it all. What the hell were the Spencers thinking allowing Natalie to go forward with such plans? Would it not have been better for them to tie the knot in some obscure church in the country?
He was going to marry her.
It still seemed unreal.
Since arriving in London, Garrett had spent as little time in public as possible. He attended his duties at Parliament and then usually returned to his townhouse. He did not attempt to visit White’s, Brooks’, or any other club. On the three occasions he’d endeavored to visit his betrothed, she had been away from home. Apparently, wedding apparel required a lady to make several visits to her modiste. As usual, he turned to work for a distraction.
He’d contracted construction of a new manor to begin as soon as possible. There were a few months of warm weather left, and he did not wish to delay. He was also considering some new investment possibilities. Turning his attention to such details and decisions created a convenient, albeit temporary diversion. It allowed him a sense of control over his business affairs, at least. He’d long abandoned any semblance of control over his personal affairs.
Just as he was putting away some reports, his butler entered the room to announce a guest.
The Duchess of Cortland?
Garrett directed the butler to escort Her Grace into the drawing room where he would attend to her shortly. What could possibly be the reason for such a visit? In a vague memory, he recalled she had been a friend of Natalie’s and then married Natalie’s betrothed. Whatever the reason, Garrett found himself both annoyed and intrigued. Was she to give him a piece of her mind for daring to marry such a lady as Lady Natalie Spencer? Pinching the bridge of his nose, Garrett prepared himself for an unpleasant encounter.
He donned his jacket and checked his cravat. Inspecting himself in a conveniently placed looking glass, he then stepped into the front drawing room. He’d had no cause to use it before today. Glancing around, he was pleased to find the room tidy and fresh. The servants who’d chosen to stay on after his father’s death cared for the townhouse impeccably.
A woman, presumably the Duchess of Cortland, sat primly on a brocaded love seat. She was not tight-lipped, and she did not appear to be full of reprimand. She was, in fact, very pretty. She looked quite pleased with the world and herself. Of course, Cortland would not have married a homely woman.
“Cousin Garrett?” she asked tentatively, “If I may be so bold?” She smiled and actually appeared a little nervous. The duchess, nervous? And then he registered her words.
Cousin?
Garrett bowed formally. “I am Garrett Castleton. As to the other, perhaps. Stranger things have happened lately.”
“Please do sit down,” the duchess implored him. “Lady Sheffield is my aunt.”
Her aunt…?
Befuddled initially, it took a moment for him to recall that, although Natalie referred to Lady Sheffield as her aunt, the woman was, in fact, her godmother.
But Lady Sheffield was the duchess’s aunt, in truth.
Her Grace went on to explain, in detail, the family connection. Although a beautiful woman, the duchess aroused not even a stirring of attraction in him. She was his cousin?
She was his cousin.
“And so we are family,” Garrett said. Ah, hell, but this was awkward. He’d not made enough small talk in his lifetime for this sort of thing. Should he discuss the weather? What was the social etiquette for conversing with a lost relation? But then he realized he need not worry. His newfound female relation had no such qualms and went about insisting he attend an event she and the duke were hosting. A water party to launch the Little Season. He must attend with the Spencers. She would accept no excuses. It seemed he had no choice.
Feeling as though this just might be the beginning of the end, he agreed. Natalie would see the impossibility of his social position when the guests at Cortland’s party openly shunned him. He hoped she would not receive the same treatment.
And then, as Garrett escorted the duchess out the front entrance, she placed her hand over his.
“I am so pleased for Natalie—and for you.” She spoke softly, but then her voice took on greater conviction. “I will not allow the two of you to be anything but ecstatically happy. You see, I attribute Natalie’s intrepidity to my own happiness. She is a courageous and generous lady. And now she is to marry my very own cousin. Thank you so much for your promise to attend. I am most eager to see the two of you, together, at the party.” And with that, she turned and a footman handed her onto a very elegant crested carriage. A duchess indeed, and his cousin at that!
Chapter Thirty
Two days later, Garrett arrived at Burtis Hall braced for an uncomfortable and humbling afternoon. He followed the butler like a man headed for the gallows, into the drawing room, where Lord Ravensdale and his four sons awaited the womenfolk.
Most likely they were bracing themselves for Natalie’s reintroduction as well. All the troops had been rallied, and the Spencer boys were prepared for battle. Lord Ravensdale offered Garrett a brandy, which he refused. He would go through this afternoon sober.
“Beautiful weather we’re having.” Stone broke the silence and grinned. “One would think if the sky were falling, there would at least be a few clouds hanging about.”
Peter and Joseph Spencer laughed out loud. Darlington scowled.
Garrett merely shook his head at his friend and tugged at his cravat.
“Nothing to worry about.” The earl didn’t look nearly as concerned as his sons. “I’m considering investing in a few ships, Hawthorne. Tomorrow, perhaps you’d come down to the docks with me to look one of them over. I always appreciate your sound opinion.”
“Of course.” How could the man be thinking about business today? Perhaps it was a clever excuse to lure him down to the docks and throw him into the river.
The gentlemen made stilted conversation until they heard a rustling of silk and taffeta in the foyer.
Along with a hint of feminine perfume, the women brought with them smiles and laughter, carefully descending the stairs in their afternoon finery. Behind Lady Ravensdale, a young girl immediately attached herself to the arm of Mr. Joseph Spencer. He’d been informed this was the duchess’s niece or stepdaughter? Was she, too, then some relation to him? Before Garrett could turn his attention to Natalie, introductions were made. Ah, yes, Mrs. Joseph Spencer was a second cousin of his.
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