“MY LADY,” Lady Thalia Trevor’s maid said as she entered her parlor, “your mother has sent word that you are to go immediately to the duke’s study.”
This was it then. Thalia had known it was coming, and she should not be nervous, but she was. Rising from the window seat, she glanced at her sister Laia, Duchess of Bolton. Their other sister, Euphrosyne was not allowed to visit, nor did she wish to. “Am I presentable?”
“Yes.” Laia grimaced. “Not that he will notice. Remember what I said. Smile gratefully and do not in any way betray that you do not agree with his decision.”
“I do remember what happened to Euphrosyne.”
Her other older sister had been kept literally a prisoner in the castle after the duke had rejected the perfectly eligible Marquis of Markville as her husband, only because Markville did not have any property the duke wanted.
Due to an elaborate scheme involving their sister-in-law Meg Hawksworth, Euphrosyne and Markville were finally able to wed. For at least three months after she ran away with Markville, their father had guards following Thalia.
Yet, for her, however, it was almost pleasant. With her two older sisters gone, she had few people with whom to walk, go horseback riding, or converse and had decided to make do with the guards. The duke, however, eventually decided that she had no plans to flee the castle, and recalled the guards.
Thalia walked quickly to her father’s study on the other side of the castle. Her father’s butler opened the door and announced her—because, naturally, her father would not know who she was or remember that he had summoned her. She made herself stroll into the room as if she had no worries and performed her best curtsey.
Glancing up from his papers, he motioned to one of the heavy leather chairs in front of his desk. “Have a seat.” She quickly took the one to this right. Laia had told Talia about being made to wait, but apparently their father was in a hurry today. “I am in the process of arranging a marriage between you and the Duke of Berwick-upon-Tweed. You will travel with your mother to her family’s home, and from there journey to Berwick-upon-Tweed in July.” He lowered his bushy white brows. “I trust that you will make yourself agreeable to the duke, and he will decide to accept you.”
Thalia had kept her eyes lowered and was glad that he couldn’t see her anger. Both her older sisters had discovered, much to their dismay, that the duke wished to arrange their marriages only to acquire property for the dukedom. She crossed two of her fingers, hiding the gesture in her lightly clasped hands. “Yes, Father. I will not disappoint you.”
“Good girl.” He went back to the documents on his desk.
Assuming she had been dismissed, Thalia rose and quietly left the room. Now it was time to pray that somehow, somewhere, she would meet the gentleman she was meant to love and marry, before her father discovered that she had no intention of wedding the man he had selected.
GILES, Duke of Kendal, strolled around the Midsummer’s fair in Wintering, a small market town in Lincolnshire. His friend, mentor, and one-time guardian, the Duke of Berwick-upon-Tweed, had suggested Kendal take advantage of being a guest of the Duke and Duchess of Hull. The town was famous, at least in this small area of England, for its Midsummer’s night fair. Berwick had even gone so far as to suggest that Kendal might find something that would interest him, or perhaps it was someone that would interest him. If it was a
He gave himself an inner shake. There was no point in continually asking if he could have done anything differently. She was gone, and that was that. Or so Berwick had told Kendal more than once.
Determinedly, he turned his focus on the fair. The purpose this year—aside from local craftsmen and women making a bit more money and celebrating the longest day of the year—was to raise the funds necessary to provide a new roof for the church. Why did churches always require new roofs?
