Page 55 of Rules for Heiresses
She and Sarani spent most of the morning catching up on gossip from while she’d been gone, which was broken up by luncheon, followed by a walk on the beach. Apart from a long nap, her infant niece remained with them, wrapped in a clever body sling made from a swatch of soft woven cotton. Ravenna was struck by how tiny and perfect she was. Baby Anu was the perfect mixture of both her parents, sporting her father’s huge blue-gray eyes, her mother’s thick dark hair, and delicious plump skin the color of sun-glazed peaches. She was a beauty.
Ravenna loved that Sarani chose to look after her baby herself, instead of depending on a wet nurse. Being the daughter of a duke, the child had a veritable army of nannies and nurses, of course, but Sarani wanted to do the bulk of mothering herself. Ravenna had to admit, cuddling her sweet infant niece had been an unpleasant shock to her system, knowing that her own husband had snatched that choice from her without any qualms whatsoever.
She hoped for children…not now, but someday.
Do as you like.
Courtland’s cutting words rose to haunt her, making a lump gather in her throat. The callous beast! Given the fact that she wasn’t the kind of woman to cuckold her husband, or conceive a child out of wedlock, it seemed unlikely that she would ever mother children of her own. Not to mention his offer of a divorce!Thatdeeply depressing thought sent a harsh stroke of hurt into her chest. Determined not to think of the dour duke she’d married, Ravenna continued to skillfully steer the conversation away from her disastrous nuptials.
Her shrewd sister-in-law, however, saw right through that ploy. “I take it you’re not happy, then?” she asked, propping a hungry Anu to her breast as they sat on a blanket on the sand. The attending servants retreated a few feet away to give them some privacy. “Being married to the Duke of Ashvale? I’m sure the dowager is pleased.”
Sarani didn’t care that Queen Victoria had declared nursing one’s child an unsuitable practice for refined ladies, or what anyone in thetonthought of her. Ravenna heartily agreed. Besides, there was nothing more natural than feeding one’s baby, not that she would ever get to know. A pang filled her, but she ignored it. She would have to have an enthusiastic partner and a functioning marriage before even thinking of nourishing infants.
Ravenna shrugged, sipping Sarani’s special brand of tea that one of the servants had brought along in a picnic basket. “You know Mama, of course she is. She despaired of me ever getting married.” She let out a slow breath, wondering how much she should confess. “In truth, it’s not what I expected.”
“How so?”
Sarani would understand better than anyone, considering her own background and the challenges she’d faced in being accepted.
“Ashvale doesn’t think he deserves to be married to me,” Ravenna explained. She pursed her lips with a thoughtful frown. “I haven’t gotten to the bottom of it, but I suspect it’s a convoluted mess that has to do with Stinson’s and Lady Borne’s feelings toward the first marchioness. They are calling out his legitimacy as well as the late duke’s state of mind, and I fear it’s going to get much worse. They want to do anything they can to discredit him.” With her voice trailing off, she stared down into the teacup as though it held answers, and then exhaled. “I’ve never seen this side of Stinson. So vicious and hateful. Lady Borne too. It’s as though I’ve been living with blinders on all these years. The way they treat him is abominable.”
“Because of his origins?”
Ravenna nodded, lips tightening. “I cannot countenance it. He is the legitimate duke.”
Sarani gave her a small, understanding smile. “Prejudice is rampant in England. Though I have been welcomed at court and I’m lucky to be in the queen’s favor, people still rant about me behind my back.”
“How do you deal with it?”
“With courage and a good dose of humor. I try not to let the opinions of others affect how I choose to live or whom I choose to love.”
“Courtland doesn’t see it that way. I fear his scars run deep. Likely tied to Stinson, I suspect.”
Sarani nodded thoughtfully. “Rhystan is not particularly fond of Lord Borne, either, or is it Lord Stinson now, considering your husband’s rather astonishing return from the dead.” She frowned. “Rhystan did mention that legal certification of his death had never passed through the courts, which is rather surprising, if you ask me. You would think they’d want to get approval as soon as possible.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m not an expert on laws, but the family of a peer must wait seven years before declaring him dead, and it would have to be legally sorted out before the title and entailed lands could past to the next heir in line.”
Ravenna’s brows drew together. “But Stinson was calling himself the Marquess of Borne, which was Courtland’s courtesy title, because everyone believed his brother to be dead.”
Sarani nodded. “Apparently, it was never corroborated in the courts, and for good reason since your husband is clearly alive and kicking. He would have had to go back through the courts and prove his birthright.” A thoughtful expression crossed her face. “People will do anything in the pursuit of power. I should know—my own cousin tried to murder me!”
“It boggles the mind.”
“Heavens, it’s like a theater production, isn’t it?” Sarani pantomimed fanning herself with the baby at her breast as though she was in the grandest of ballrooms instead of in the middle of nursing. “So Shakespearean.”
Ravenna huffed a laugh. “Indeed. Drat, I do wish you were in town. It would make things so much more bearable.”
“You’re that unhappy?”
“I don’t know what I feel. Ashvale is…guarded on his best day. And on his worst, well, suffice it to say that he offered me a divorce when this is all over because he thinks it’s what I want.”
“Is it?”
She bit her lip. “It was. I mean, I thought that’s what I had wanted.”
Sarani canted her head. “And now?”
