Edward dreaded his next meeting. His mother was not his favorite companion. She would be difficult, at best. “Hilton, is my mother at home?” He stood at the opened threshold of his family’s town residence, hesitating before entering the house.

“May I take your coat and hat, my lord?”

He allowed the servant to relieve him of the heavy outerwear. The aging butler hung up the coat and then nodded at Edward.

“She is in her parlor, my lord.”

“Thank you.” Edward took a fortifying breath and made his way to his mother’s sitting room and knocked. “Mother?” He opened the door and walked in.

“Oh, Edward. You decided to visit. How nice.” His mother looked up from her book. “I had heard you had gone to Eynsham, not that you ever tell me what you are about.” She shot him an austere look and went back to reading.

“Mother, I have important news and a request.” Edward fought his impatience and kept his outer composure, while his insides churned.

“You have a request? Do go on.” She remained focused on the open pages in front of her.

Edward lost patience. She could read ‘Othello’ when he left. He walked over to his mother and pulled her volume closed.

“How dare you? What do you think you are doing, Edward? I did not bring you up to be rude.” She snatched her tome back and opened it.

“You did not bring me up to be anything, Mother. You did not bring me up at all. However, let us not worry ourselves with such details. I am getting married. I came to tell you.” He hated to be so brusque with his mother, but she vexed him.

The book fell away and his mother stood up, a stunned look on her face. “May I ask who the young woman is? I feel sure you have mismanaged the whole affair and I will not have the Weston line sullied by any fortune-hunter who has set her cap at you, Edward.” She screwed her face into an expression of distaste.

“Mother, whom I marry has little to do with your opinion.” He bit his tongue and stopped before he threatened to move her to the Dowager cottage on the country estate.

She moved to the window and stood, staring outside, her arms crossed. Outside, the gardener was pruning the shrubs. The sound of his clippers could be heard above the silence in the room. “Must we argue, Edward? Your actions mock me at every turn. I have tried to do what is right for the family. It was you who failed us. I lost a son because of you. You should have been home to help him, but no! You were gallivanting in Paris, doing goodness knows what—gambling? Whoring, perhaps? Your behaviour was disgraceful. That is how, in my eyes, you compare to your brother. It should have been you.”

Her icy words pummeled him, one by one. That his mother would even speak of such activities surprised him. But that was always part of her attack—to throw her opponent off and swoop in for the kill. Edward was determined not to let her gain control of this discussion. He felt his temper rising, and struggled to control it. While he understood that part of this was her grief speaking, a large amount was through an inner ugliness she reserved for his benefit. He could not remember when she had been nice to him, or praised him for anything. She had saved all of that for Robert. He was not jealous of his brother. He missed him and he loved him. Just once, I wish Mother could show me some level of warmth. It would never happen.

“Mother... I, too, think about Robert all the time. But the fact of the matter is he is gone and I am here. He called the duel, and lost it. You have one son now, and I am he. I am sorry you are disappointed, but be that as it may, I am taking a wife and you will treat her with the respect due to a countess. And...” He paused, taking a deep breath. “And you will meet her at the wedding, which is in two days. I bid you to have your trunk packed. I will return for you tomorrow.” He bowed and turned to leave. 

“You have not mentioned who she is.” Her words stopped him, her voice almost a whisper.

“Her name is Harriet Longbottom—Hattie, Lord Bentley’s sister. We are to be married at her brother’s country estate.”

“This cannot be happening!” His mother’s face twisted in anger. “Lord Bentley’s half-sister? How could you do that to this family! She is hardly deserving to kiss your family ring. Edward, you must reconsider. There are several diamonds of the first water on the market...”

“Enough! Mother, I do not wish to argue with you. Nor is it my wish to disappoint you. However, who I choose to marry is not your concern.”

“I see. You were foxed and compromised her. I cannot believe you could have been interested in any relation of Louisa Bentley... and do not bother to lie to me. I can tell by your expression that you did just that. Consider your name and position…”

“Mother, the decision as to whom I wed is mine.” He spoke slowly and deliberately. Well, maybe not completely in this case. How did she know how to get under his skin? Of course, she was right about what had happened and that added to his irritation. He fought for control of his words. “Hattie and I are betrothed. Furthermore, Mother, if you cannot be respectful and treat her with the kindness she deserves, we will not visit. You will live here in your town house, or in the Dower House in Hampshire. Do I make myself clear?”

They stared at each, until she looked away. “Very well,” she muttered, looking away. “I will be ready. And,” she sighed, “I will be...cordial to your bride. I know my duty.” She pasted a cold smile on her face and spoke in a subdued tone.

He did not miss her derisive smile or her false tone. He expected it. This was her typical response to any request he made. However, he chose not to take the bait. “Mother, it has been interesting, as always.” He placed a kiss on her cheek, and noticed she did not react. “I think you will like her, if you will give her a chance.” Even he did not believe what he had just said. “My carriage will be here at seven o’clock on the morrow to pick you up. Please be ready.”

“I will.” Her tone remained derisive.

“Good.”

“Before you make your grand exit, Edward, I found something in your brother’s effects that I thought you might be able to clear up for me.” She leafed through to the back of her book and withdrew a folded piece of vellum. “Here!” She shoved the note in his hands. “Maybe you can make sense of it.”

Edward started to read the note.

“It is from some man I did not recognize…he signed it Martin, I believe. He requested a meeting with Robert, regarding your gambling debts that he wanted covered. I believe the dates he mentioned are also in there. They were accumulated the week before Robert’s death, at some club or such in London.”

Edward stared at the note a moment longer. He had not been in the country that week. He wanted to show this to Bergen, to see what he thought of it. It had to be a connection to Robert’s death—he could feel it. He just did not know what that connection could be. He tucked the note into his jacket pocket.

“Thank you, Mother. I will look into this.” His voice softened. “These are not debts I created.”

“I could not say.” She was looking away from him again.

“Well, as I say, I plan to look into this, but I am not going to bother defending myself to you. It is a waste of my time.” He paused. “I will see you tomorrow, Mother. Let us hope for pleasant weather.”

Satisfied that things would go as well as they could with his mother, he left for his other town house. His home. He had arranged to meet Bergen at the Club, in a couple of hours, for dinner, and he wanted to change his raiment. Bergen had mentioned celebrating Edward's upcoming nuptials. I could use a good brandy or two. It would be good to have a quiet night at the club. As he mounted his horse, he thought more about that note. He wondered what Robert would say about all of this.

* * *

Hattie had never owned anything so lavish or extravagant in her life, she decided, as she saw her reflection in the glass. A well-proportioned woman, in a high-waisted lavender silk gown with a shimmering overdress and dainty capped sleeves, looked back at her. In fact, this gown cost more than the sum of her lifetime’s worth of dresses! She felt like a beautiful princess, but a guilty one. They had never been poor; in fact, Hattie knew she had a dowry which would become her own competence if she did not marry by the age of thirty.

“Don’t you look a picture, miss!” Sally said from somewhere behind her.

Tears sprang into Hattie’s eyes as she realized what a change was about to take place. She was terrified. She was no more suited to be a countess, regardless of her genteel upbringing, than Lord Weston was suited to be in the church. They were from two entirely different worlds and this was nothing short of a disaster! Her cheeks heated when she recalled the feeling of his mouth and hands on her—when he had not realized whom he was touching, she thought bitterly. Admittedly, she had responded to his touch, but would it be enough to prevent their marriage being a misery? To keep it from being nothing more than an empty show put on for Society?

“What is the matter, miss?” Sally asked. “You are supposed to be delighted. Is this not what every lady dreams about? Lord Weston is the most handsome man I have ever seen. And he treats his dependents well, from what I’ve heard tell.”

“Oh, Sally. It was a horrible mistake. He does not wish to marry me!”

“Then I suppose he should have considered that before he climbed into your bed!”

Hattie stood with her jaw hanging open at the maid’s impertinence. Never would one of her mother’s servants have had the audacity to say such a thing—even if what she said was correct.

The maid was still talking. “It is the way of the world and if he was not to marry you, you would be ruined. I have seen that happen as well and you should be thankful Lord Weston is an honorable gentleman.”

“Why is he being lauded as honorable for coming into my bed and compromising me?” Hattie snapped.

“As my mistress said, if such a rumpus had not been raised, then it could have been kept quiet.”

“So, now the whole sordid affair becomes my fault?” Hattie asked, incredulous.

“Now then, don’t fly up into the boughs right before your wedding. As my ma always said, ‘What’s done is done and now you make the best of it.’”

“A charming start to any union,” Hattie muttered in defiance, but she was most afraid of what came after the ceremony. Granted, she had not known anything the other night and things had progressed regardless, but instinct told her there was more than what had happened.

“Sally?”

“Yes, miss? I am almost finished now.” She put a few more pins in Hattie’s hair.

“Have you ever… do you know… oh, how do I ask this?” Hattie threw up her hands.

Sally stepped in front of her and smiled. “You mean the wedding night? But I thought…”

“How could you think that?” she asked, dropping her hands on her hips.

“I am sure I do not know, miss.” Sally chuckled.

Hattie’s shoulders slumped. “Well, we were, but when I felt his... his... snake…”

“Oh lawks! So you truly did call it a snake!” Sally burst out laughing and kept laughing until she was holding her sides and crying.

“Sally!” Hattie snapped, in an attempt to bring the maid out of her merriment.

“I am sorry,” she sighed, still smiling. “That is the funniest story I have heard in my life.”

“I am happy to know you enjoyed my distress, but do be serious for a moment. I need to know what happens. The Bible mentions joining, but how does it happen?”

“Well, now, miss. How do you think it happens?”

Hattie thought for a moment and shock registered on the face staring back at her from the looking-glass when she realized the snake’s purpose.

“Oh no,” she whispered.

“Yes. But don’t you worry, it will fit.”

“I do not want it to fit!” she protested.

“You will, mark my words.” Sally winked. “And almost any other female in the country would, too. You had best appreciate what you’ve been given.”

The maid’s words did not make her feel at all better. She could not stop thinking about what was going to happen to her and regretted asking. Lord Weston had made it clear he wanted heirs, so there was no hope for a marriage in name only. She was sick to her stomach at the thought she would have to face him during the ceremony, knowing what was to come. All of those people would be watching her, knowing what they had done and knowing she was not sophisticated enough for him.

“Stop worrying yourself to flinders. His lordship knows what he is doing. Just let him do what he wants and all will be well.”

Hattie expelled a deep breath and reminded herself she wanted to be a good wife. Being submissive to someone else was going to be difficult after six and twenty years without such constraints.

“Now you look the perfect bride—so long as you don’t squint.”

“So long as I do not trip or run into the altar,” Hattie added.

There was a knock on the door and Sally let Richard inside.

“Sister, you are beautiful!” he exclaimed. She smiled despite her nerves.

“Thank you, Richard. I have never owned anything so dear,” she confessed.

“That circumstance was a dreadful oversight on my part. This toilette was worth every penny. I trust the other gowns were delivered with this one?”

“Yes, you were very generous, brother.”

“I very much enjoyed spending the day with you, Hattie. I hope, once you are settled, we may join our families together on better terms. Louisa will come about. If nothing else, you will outrank her,” he teased. “Are you ready to be married?”

“May I answer honestly?” Hattie responded, looking up at her brother.

“Perhaps I should put it another way. Everything will work out for the best. You will see, dear Hattie. I do not believe in accidents. All things happen for a reason, and I truly think you and Weston were intended for each other.”

“I can scarce credit that my brother sounds so wise.”

“Your brother has been married to Louisa for ten years.”

“And this has made you wiser?” she asked skeptically.

“Indeed. You can choose to make the best of any situation.”

“I suppose so.” She smiled sheepishly up at him.

“One last piece of advice,” he said as they walked through the house. “Find Archie his own room to sleep in.”

Richard had insisted upon them having the ceremony at the church. Despite the inauspicious beginning, he wanted to imagine a love match. Hattie was entirely too practical for that. She was no beauty like Lady Pennywaite, though Sally had managed to work a miracle with her appearance in three short days. Never would she become accustomed to having her bosom on display; she could even see them without looking, although they were less conspicuous than those belonging to most ladies.

Richard handed her down from the carriage and escorted her up the steps to the church. Before the doors were opened to the nave, a place where Hattie was normally most comfortable, she felt guilty about crossing the threshold. This wedding was a farce—except it was still happening.

The bells chimed the hour of ten and the doors swung inwards. The small church was almost full, Hattie noticed, though she could not see faces clearly. The local vicar must have gathered his parishioners to support Lord Bentley. She was still in mourning and had hoped for something discreet. Richard escorted her down the aisle, which was full of sunlight shining through the tall stained glass, until she stood next to her future husband in front of the altar. She felt inadequate. It was grossly unfair for him to be so handsome. He wore a dark blue coat of superfine which was tightly fitted to him and her thoughts strayed to what he looked like underneath those elegant clothes. A flush rose in her cheeks as she realized the vicar was speaking and she had not heard a word. She would dearly love to have a fan and to loosen her corset. Edward was watching her with a twinkle in his eye. Could he read her thoughts? How mortifying!

“Do you, Harriet Eleanor Longbottom...”

“Bottom! Bottom!” She heard Archie screech, and the congregation rumbled with suppressed laughter. She looked over to where Lord Bergen stood on the other side of the groom, and there was Archie, with something around his neck, trying to spread his wings.

“What is he doing here?” she whispered.

“We thought you would want him here,” Edward whispered back.

She smiled sweetly at him. It was very considerate of him. Everyone knew rakes could be charming, though.

“He greeted me as whoremonger,” he told her with a wink.

“Oh!”

The vicar cleared his throat in a condemnatory manner and continued with the vows until it was time for her to say, “I will.”

What choice did she have, she wondered cynically. When would her wariness cease? She was vowing before God to honor, obey, and cherish a man she did not know.

The time came to exchange rings, and Hattie was surprised. She had played the organ at countless weddings and she knew every note by heart, yet this ceremony was difficult to follow.

Edward took her hand to place the ring on it, and she hoped he could not feel how she shook. He slid a golden band of diamonds and sapphires onto her finger, and it was all she could do not to stare. She had never seen anything so beautiful—certainly she had never owned any such precious gems.

Before she allowed herself to think too much of it, she realized the ring was, in all likelihood, a family heirloom, and a countess was expected to have such extravagance.

“I now pronounce you man and wife.”

Before the impact of who she was dawned on her, she was signing her new name in the register and being led back through the chapel. What strange turn of fate had found her now married and a countess to boot?