Page 100 of The English Duke
“He’s still living a bucolic existence on his farm,” she said. “He married, too, and had seven children.”
She knew there was a reason her grandmother had told her the story, but she wasn’t certain what it was. Unfortunately, she wasn’t left in doubt for long.
“Just because you’ve lost your virginity to one man doesn’t mean you can’t fall in love with another.”
She stared straight ahead, unable to look in her grandmother’s direction.
Several long minutes passed. The shriek of a fox and the rustle of undergrowth in the forest were the only sounds.
“How did you know?” she asked, only one of several questions coming to mind.
“Amy overheard you and Josephine a few days ago.”
“Oh.”
“If I’d known the truth, I would have stopped this marriage. As it is, I don’t know how to keep it from happening now.”
“I’m sorry, Gran,” she said. It wasn’t enough of an apology, and she knew it even as the words were uttered.
“What shall we do about the situation?”
She sank back against the bench, closed her eyes, and wished herself anywhere but here.
“Is there anything to be done?”
“You could find a husband,” Gran said.
“I don’t want to marry anyone.”
“Don’t resign yourself to life as a spinster, child. You could experience love with someone else.”
She didn’t want anyone else. She wanted Jordan. Perhaps her feelings would change in a few years. Perhaps when she didn’t feel this great yawning emptiness inside.
“He doesn’t seem to have an affinity for Josephine,” Gran said.
She didn’t say anything.
“Is there a possibility you could be with child?”
“No,” she said. “There isn’t.”
“Well, thank heavens for that.”
They remained silent for another few moments. Her grandmother placed her hand on Martha’s wrist.
“Why on earth didn’t you say something? Why did you just sit there and allow her to win?”
A question she’d asked herself hour after hour.
“At first I was too shocked to say anything. I didn’t understand why Jordan had gone along with Josephine’s story. Then I learned he’d taken a medicine. He genuinely didn’t know the identity of the woman he was with.”
She glanced at her grandmother. “You mustn’t blame him. I’m the one who was in his room.”
“I expected to have problems with Josephine, my dear girl, not you. Why were you there?”
“Because of Josephine,” she said, and told her what her sister had planned.
Gran had no comment other than a muttered oath, one she’d never heard her grandmother use.
