Page 88 of The English Duke
If so, he would never have taken the elixir. Nor would he have seduced Josephine. He wouldn’t have placed himself in a compromising position, one requiring he be sacrificed on the altar of honor.
Martha was loyal and kind. She was also irritating, didactic, fierce, and opinionated. But she wasn’t his fiancée and wishing things were different didn’t change them.
As they approached Griffin House he was more impressed by what he saw. Even Reese remained silent beside him, taking in the sheer size of the house and the grounds.
Jordan knew, from things Matthew had said, that the majority of the York wealth came from York Armaments. The family had become as rich as Croesus after the Crimean War, and had diversified their investments into transportation, including ships and railroads.
They needn’t worry where the money was going to come from to pay the annual salaries of the servants. Or how the roof repairs were going to be made.
If nothing else, the wealth Josephine would bring to their marriage should have given him some enthusiasm for the union. Unfortunately, it didn’t.
Josephine had written him once in the past weeks, informing him of certain activities planned around the ceremony. Her handwriting had been juvenile, the many misspellings, inarticulate grammar, and almost bluntly worded demands giving him an indication of what his future was to be.
It wasn’t enough that he brought a title and Sedgebrook to the marriage. He suspected he was going to be reminded, often, that she was an heiress. Frankly, he was ready to let Sedgebrook crumble around his ears rather than sell himself.
If he hadn’t taken her to his bed, he would have never offered for her.
As it was, every night when he entered his bedroom, he got a flash of memory, something making him smile. It made no sense, but he remembered being happy. Feeling as if the moment, the interlude had almost been ordained.
On retiring, he sat on the edge of his pristine bed, remembering how rumpled the sheets were after they loved, the spot of blood declaring her virginal.
In his memory he heard her soft voice and it caught in his chest, almost as if she’d reached in and placed part of herself there.
He couldn’t rationalize those memories with the woman he was going to marry.
The day was a lovely one, the sun passing directly overhead. Not a cloud marred the piercing blue of the summer sky. Sunlight glittered on the surface of the lake, making the scene appear as perfect as a painting.
To the north, however, the sky was darkening, promising a storm shortly.
Martha walked from the cottage down to the dock, carrying theGoldfishin her arms. A soft, warm breeze carried the scent of the water as she approached the lake.
The dock was wide and had been constructed three years ago. The boards had already weathered to a pale gray, but they were even and didn’t bounce beneath her feet as she made her way to where she normally launched her ship.
Kneeling, she placed theGoldfishon the boards, unbuttoned her cuffs, and began to roll up her sleeves.
“Miss Martha?”
Martha turned to see Amy standing at the end of the dock. She watched as the maid approached her.
“Your grandmother sent me to tell you His Grace’s carriage has been spotted. He should arrive momentarily.”
She knew Jordan was coming today. She just hadn’t expected him to arrive right now. Nor had she expected her pulse to suddenly race at the news that he was here.
Part of her wanted to rejoice that she would see him. She’d be in the same room with him again. She’d be able to talk to him. Another, more rational part, reminded her that he was going to be her brother in marriage.
In the past few days she’d been behaving like one of those besotted females she’d met in London. She’d reread each one of Jordan’s letters to her father. Several of them she’d placed in a special pile because they’d revealed his character. His sense of humor was in those letters. So, too, the warmth and affection he felt for her father.
“I can’t possibly leave now,” she said. “A storm is coming and I wanted to get in one test beforehand.”
Amy walked a few feet closer, her hands smoothing her skirt.
“I’m to tell you that your grandmother expects you to welcome him, Miss Martha.”
Martha stared down at theGoldfish.
No, she couldn’t. She couldn’t be there when he arrived, not when she was certain Josephine would make a scene. She could just envision it now.
Her sister would come sweeping down the stairs, her face lit with happiness, a bright smile—one of her better expressions—curving her mouth. She’d embrace Jordan, act as if her life had been dull and gray without him instead of what it had been, weeks of Josephine commanding everyone and having a wonderful time doing it.
