Page 3 of Duke in Shining Armor
He grimaced. “Father explained his reasoning, and I am sure mama would have spoken to you.”
She closed her eyes briefly. “I am resigned to it now for I know that I must do my duty. I have just told Charlotte and Beatrice, and I thought to come to you to say my goodbyes.”
“I will miss you terribly,” Edward said as leaned forward and hugged her. “Hurry back.”
As Catherine exited Edward’s library and walked down the hallway, she pondered her circumstances. She was resigned to the fact that she had to marry, but she would not choose any gentleman, for just any suitor would not do. She must find someone who appreciates her attributes, one that will accept her for who she is, come hell or high water. She had a sinking feeling it might never be possible to find such a gentleman. Catherine’s steps faltered and steadied herself by leaning against the wall. She took a deep breath, strengthening her resolve to never lose sight of herself even if she had already lost her dream.
* * *
Pembroke Estate
Wiltshire
James Hastings, the Duke of Pembroke, stood gazing at Pembroke Estate through the large sash windows as far as the eyes could see. With an enormous fortune came great responsibility, and there were times it weighed heavily on him. It was his duty to ensure he carried on the legacy his father had built … well, until it was time for him to pass it on to his son.
My son?He was not yet married … to the duchess’s despair.
James reminisced on their last exchange when he saw his mother at her estate in Devonshire. His father had been indulgent toward her and made provisions for her family’s estate to be returned to her upon his death. His father knew she would be happy to spend her remaining days in her former childhood home with such beautiful countryside. She always said she felt at peace there.
“Son, you are two and thirty. When will you decide to take a wife? Is it not time?” The duchess had looked at him with love and exasperation.
“All in good time, mama,” he had replied before kissing her on her cheek and making a quick dash from the library.
He chuckled as he remembered her disappointed sigh. The conversations on marriage were becoming too frequent for his liking, but he knew that the duchess would persist until he made such a commitment. She feared for the Hastings line, that it would die with him if he did not father a son, the more the better. It was not that he was opposed to marriage; he felt the timing was not right. James was only two and thirty and did not feel as if he had to rush the process of finding his bride. He wanted a special woman to be his duchess, a formidable woman. These last few seasons, he had not found anyone who inspired him to make an offer.
He was not suitably impressed by the reasoning of some of the ladies in thehaut ton. He knew tradition would prefer these ladies to speak of trivial matters; after all, they could not appear to be smarter than their husbands. Nevertheless, James preferred a lady with a sharp wit who had interests outside of the usual pastimes. He wondered if it was wrong of him to seek a lady with virtues like his mother, but then his wife would be the Duchess of Pembroke.
The last time he saw his mother in Devonshire he was in a hurry to get to London for a bit of sport before he returned to his estate. He knew what thehaut tonwhispered behind his back … he was a rake, a scoundrel, a blackguard, and all the other epithets that came to their minds. It is said he indulges in such debauchery that the mothers of the ladies he dances with at balls wait with bated breath until their daughter moves on to the next dance partner. He understood it was nothing more than an exaggeration which is common to these genteel women.
James worked incredibly hard, although his friends said it was not necessary as he could live off the wealth from the estate. The very thought abased him; for what kind of man would he be if he did so. Furthermore, all his fine business acumen, that he spent years honing, would be wasted. He could not allow it. Rather than lay waste to his family’s empire, he worked to strengthen and enrich it. He knew his father would be proud of him.
Some say his father was a tough man to do business with, but he preferred shrewd. He was much like his father in that the former duke was not a wastrel. James had inherited a vast fortune and could have sat comfortably, but he chose not to do so. Much like James himself, he grew the estates to new heights and did not take unnecessary risks in business. He was astute but fair in his business dealings, and James would not tolerate anyone speaking ill of him.
Hastings was a proud family line steeped in tradition. The duchess was still very much a part of society with invitations to her balls and soirees being among the most sought after. She had not shut herself away from society after his father’s death. After a period of mourning, she emerged with a new sense of purpose, and he was sure it was to find him a wife. He chuckled, for although he exasperated her, James knew that she loved him, and he could not bear the thought of losing her anytime soon.
Feeling that sense of restlessness creeping over him, James decided a good ride across the countryside would help.
James proceeded to his bedchamber and, with the aid of his valet, changed into a green wool double-breasted tailcoat, with long sleeves that reached the knuckles, a waistcoat, and a neckcloth. His breeches were made of white leather and buttoned at the knee, and his boots had spurs. A pair of gloves and a riding crop completed his outfit.
He was not one for a top hat, for he preferred to feel the wind in his hair. The duchess chastised him on several occasions. She was mortified that he grew his hair too long and he went riding without a hat as if this would somehow affect his genteel capabilities.
He made his way from the main house and walked to the stables, softly humming a tune. There was something about riding, such as a visceral thrill when galloping across an open field, in tune with his stallion. He was looking forward to feeling the wind on his face, which gave him a sense of wild abandon and freedom. Riding was a way for him to enjoy the peace of the countryside and to loosen his mind from all his thoughts about the estate, the state of his life, and marriage. Once he was out in the open, he could be someone else if he so desired. There was nothing else that gave him this feeling, and it was one of his favorite activities.
He went to the stable and the stable boy prepared his horse. James took the reins, lifting all six feet of his solid frame into the saddle with ease.
James led the horse into a trot and then a gallop with its head up, ears forward. The horse’s back went up and down smoothly and evenly. He was gaining speed as the wind tugged at James’s hair. The ground rushed by him, and the only sound was the pounding of hooves. He wrapped both hands more firmly around the reins and let himself smile.
He eventually slowed his horse to a trot, and his thoughts returned to the lady he thought would fit the role of his duchess. James wondered if he ever would meet someone that fit his criteria.
Damn it to hell.Should he not be more optimistic?After all, every day is a new dawn, and he could not tell what tomorrow would bring.
CHAPTER2
As the carriage rolled away from Windemere Estate, Catherine looked upon the sprawling grounds, with their beautiful gardens and well-manicured lawns. She was being accompanied by her lady’s maid, Helen, who would act as her chaperone. The carriage was ladened with her wardrobe, which was carefully selected. She thought of all that she had left behind whilst she struggled to maintain her composure. Catherine contemplated the journey ahead, not having travelled by ship before, and she was not looking forward to it. It would be lengthy and painstaking.
Catherine sighed as she remembered the promise she made to her mother at their parting … that she would do her duty at all cost. Perhaps her mother had sensed her doubts and struggles. Catherine reasoned that if there was no money and the family was ruined, she wouldn’t be able to indulge in her pursuits at any rate. Somehow, she had reassured her mother of the same.
Damned if you do and damned if you do not.Her father would be mortified if he could hear her thoughts. Closing her eyes, she leaned her head against the squabs and tried her best to not feel uncertain and fearful about her future.
