Page 75 of A Wounded Duke's Passion
“I do not see how. I have no dowry,” she said, “and even if the Duke of Hamilton were willing to wed me without one, there is still the matter of Lord Thornton’s feelings and our father’s debts.”
Anna looked at her sister with pleading eyes. “Why would you not let David intervene? He could ask about our father’s debts, at least. Maybe he could help. He is very wealthy.”
“Anna, I cannot rely on the charity of your groom-to-be!” Bridget exclaimed. “What would the ton say?”
“The ton would not need to know.”
Bridget shook her head. “If I accept the Marquess of Thornton’s proposal, it will guarantee that he clears our father’s debts, and once Lord Thornton is wed to me, I imagine he will be willing to aid our family in the future.”
“David could aid our family.”
“But if he does not have to, he should not,” Bridget said. “He needs his money to care for you and your family. You will bear him children, Anna. He will need his inheritance to support them as well as you.”
“But Bridget, how can I be happy knowing that my joy has been purchased with your misery?”
“You will be,” Bridget said. “And I will be happy. I may not love my husband, but I will find other things to bring me joy. I will love our children.”
Even if she detested all the activities that were involved in having children.
“That will be enough,” she went on. “There are many women who cannot marry the men that they love, and they manage fine. I imagine that I shall be the same.”
“You should not have to do that.”
“I am the elder sister,” Bridget replied. “It is my duty to do that.”
“It is unfair.”
“That is life,” Bridget said.
Anna’s face was so soft with understanding that Bridget’s own heart ached. Her sister so desperately wanted them both to find their happiness with men that they loved, but that seemed utterly impossible.
“I will be fine,” Bridget said. “I promise, dear Anna. Be happy with your husband, and I will find some way to be happy with mine.”
“Will you?” Anna asked. “Will you be happy when you wed him? When he lies astride you during the night?”
Bridget shivered in revulsion but forced a pleasant smile. “I will endure, as many women before me.”
She was not sure that she could. A small part of her hoped that, if she told Anthony about her plight, he would spirit her away to Gretna Green. That would not solve her problems, and Bridget knew she would feel terribly selfish if she eloped. But it would mean that she would be free of the repulsive Lord Thornton.
Even though the lines between real and play had become blurred in the course of her feigned courtship to Anthony, Bridget felt that she loved him. She could imagine herself being happy with him, and when she thought of sharing her bed with him, Bridget’s body reacted in the most pleasant way. Everything inside her grew hot and eager for his touch.
“I believe you,” Anna said at last. “And I know that your resolve is as strong as iron. Still, I wish you were not so resigned.”
Bridget was not entirely resigned, but she said nothing. She would let Anna believe that she was. Perhaps it was dishonest, but it would be simpler that way—and easier for her sister.
Chapter 34
Anthony entered Lady Emily’s ball, accompanied by his ward and aunt. Mother and daughter were both clad in pale blue, but Anthony scarcely noticed the actions of Lady Rose and her mother. As they were introduced, Anthony searched for Lady Bridget among all the elegantly dressed lords and ladies. He could not forget how she had looked when they met one another in the park. Something had distressed her terribly.
He needed to speak to her, so he could assuage her worries. Anthony’s heart ached when he thought of Lady Bridget. She should have an easy life that was free of anything unpleasant. At last, he found her. Bridget’s green eyes locked with his, unimpeded by the long distance between them.
“Enjoy the ball,” he said.
Lady Rose said something in reply, but Anthony scarcely heard her. He walked along the edge of the room, too aware of the sound of his blood warring in his ears. Bridget watched his path with wide eyes. The young lady stood beside her father and the Marquess of Thornton.
Anthony curled his hands into fists, and his shoulders grew tense. It seemed the despicable Lord Thornton hadreturned. Perhaps he meant to claim Bridget’s hand. If so, the man was about to be met with an unexpected obstacle, for Anthony had no intention of seeing Bridget married to that man.
It was time for him to act like he had never acted before. Pretending to be Bridget’s devoted suitor would not even be very difficult. He had not adored a woman as much as she since Anastasia had died.
