Noelle stifled a yawn as she moved to the sideboard in the dining room to fill her breakfast plate up with gooseberry tarts and clotted cream. She was ravenous after a late night at the Weatherston ball. Though she normally loved socializing and having various gentlemen dance attention on her, the previous night had been nothing but a bore to her, the ball lasting till the wee hours of the morning. She was restless and found her thoughts wandering to Soren all too frequently, wishing she could be with him instead of in the stuffy ballroom dancing with men who, in her mind, could not even compare.
She had no sooner sat down when her father walked into the room. But instead of filling up a plate of food for himself, he marched right in and sat at the head of the long table in his customary seat. "Darling, we must talk."
Noelle looked up from her plate and noticed for the first time that her father's face appeared unusually pale. "What is it, Father?"
He cleared his throat before starting. "You know very well that I have been prodigiously patient with both you and your brother about finding proper matches, especially with you, Noelle." He gave her a pointed look that made her nervous, not sure she liked where this was going.
"You promised to give me until the end of the season, did you not?" She asked him tersely.
He looked uncomfortable, as he cleared his throat once more, a sign he was more nervous than he was letting on. "Yes well...I uh...that is to say, things change. I have arranged an advantageous match for you with the Duke of Kerrington."
"What?" She pushed back from the table furiously, knocking her teacup over in the process but not even paying it an ounce of attention, as the warm liquid seeped off the table and onto the floor. Her fists were balled tightly at her sides; she couldn't believe that what she had just heard could be true. "You do not even know the Duke of Kerrington."
"Of course I know him."
"Know of him, maybe," she pointed out, "but certainly you have not made his acquaintance. How could you arrange a match with someone you don't even know?" Her voice had increasingly gotten louder and louder with each word she shrieked, until before she knew it, she was yelling loud enough for half of London to hear, which only proved to make her father angry.
"Enough! Sit down this instance and show me some respect." Noelle grudgingly did as she was told.
"You are not getting any younger Noelle, and I have let you play your silly games long enough. I gave you plenty of time to pick a gentleman of your choosing, but you seemingly could not have been bothered, so this is what it has come down to. The duke is a wealthy man with a large estate. You could not have found yourself a better match of that I am sure."
Noelle closed her eyes and took multiple long breaths, holding them in her lungs before exhaling slowly, trying to force herself to calm down. A thought rose unbidden into her mind of shocking green eyes and a handsome face, and she instantly knew the words her father spoke were false, she most definitely could find herself a better match than the Duke of Kerrington—maybe she already had. There had to be a way out of this arrangement. She forced herself to sound calmer than she felt when she finally addressed her father again.
"I thought we had an agreement, Father, that I could have until the end of the season. Since nothing has been announced as far as an engagement to the duke, maybe you could make good on your word to me and let me have the remainder of my promised time to make up my own mind. If, by then, I have not made a match of mine own choosing, I will agree to go ahead with this—arrangement." She couldn't bring herself to utter the word marriage.
"Noelle." Her father was exasperated. "I cannot agree to that."
"Why not?" she sputtered, "What could be more important than your word?"
She watched as her father reached a fleshy hand up to loosen his expertly-tied cravat, "Exactly my point. There is nothing more important than my word—" she looked hopeful for a split second before he continued, "—to the duke that is, and that is why I will not be going back on it. Do you want me to be taken for the fool?"
Of course, she didn't, but neither did she want to spend the rest of her life in a loveless marriage to a man she had never met. She had heard of the infamous Duke of Kerrington. Everyone had, but hearing of his reputation as a heartless rake didn't exactly endear her to the idea of being married to him. Noelle felt like she was losing the battle and she didn't take to losing well, especially when something so important was at stake.
Turning tear-filled eyes on him, she asked in a quiet voice, "Why did you do it?"
"Some things aren't meant for a lady to understand."
"Try me," she quipped coolly, trying to gain some sort of understanding.
"Fine, if you think that knowing what motivated the arrangement will make it easier for you to comply, then so be it. I wagered your hand in marriage to him in a card game, and he won. I knew he needed a wife to provide him an heir. How fortunate for me, I had just the thing that he needed. I figured, if he won, it would benefit him and you both, seeing as you need a husband whether you are willing to believe it or not. I didn't go into the game intending for him to win, but he did, and I could not very well go back on my word now could I? There, does that make you feel better knowing all the sordid details?" he growled.
"Does it make me feel better to know that you honor your word with a practical stranger more than the agreement you had with your own daughter? Hardly. Nothing you do, short of calling off this absurd arrangement, will make me feel better."
"Don't be so dramatic, Noelle. You aren't the first lady of society to enter into an arranged marriage, and you certainly won't be the last. And pouting about marrying a duke does not become you, my dear. You appear spoiled to complain of it as such a trial. There are many girls out there who would willingly, and happily, take your place."
"Then let them," she quipped before standing once more. "I've suddenly lost my appetite. Please excuse me." Before her father could oppose, she was walking briskly out of the room. The moment the thick door shut behind her, she found her resolve had disappeared. Warm tears trickled down her face, obscuring her vision, but she forced herself to keep walking, lest someone see her and question her actions. The minute she entered her bedchamber, she flung herself across her large bed, weeping into her pillow.
She felt betrayed by her father. How could he have done something so selfish? She had always taken pride in the fact that her father allowed her the freedom to dictate her own future, within reason of course. He had strongly encouraged her to find a suitable gentleman to settle down with, one with a title and a good reputation and preferably plenty of wealth, but he had never been one to force her into things. This most recent development both shocked and bothered her.
When the tears had finally been spent, she rolled onto her back and wiped the remnants of the crying from her face, and began pondering on the Duke of Kerrington and everything she had heard of the man. She had to admit that she had never paid attention to much of the gossip of the ton, but there was only so much you could avoid, and the duke had been the center of many rumors and speculations over the years. The gossip suggested he was a heartless rake bent on seeking his own pleasure and caring little to nothing for the hearts he left shattered in his wake. He was reputed to be cold and held little regard for society and its expectations. No wonder such a man would acquire a wife through gambling. Most men, any gentleman at least, would not stoop to such a low. At least Noelle hoped that was the truth. Before today she also would have thought that no true gentleman would likewise wager his daughter's hand, but she had been proven wrong.
Maybe all supposed gentleman were merely putting on a façade, and now she was expected to be wed to one of the greatest cads of them all. For a moment, she let herself entertain the idea of living in a world with no titles, a world where she truly was free to make her own decisions and forge her own destiny, a world where she could marry whomever she chose whenever she chose, someone like Soren Johannsen.
The thought of Soren made her sit upright, an idea forming in her mind. She knew that she couldn't just go ahead and marry the duke without first talking to Soren. She felt an instantaneous need compelling her to go to him, to tell him of her dilemma. She knew where he was staying and briefly entertained the idea of sending him a note before squelching it, knowing that she would regret not having a last opportunity to see him. He was set to sail home to America by the end of the week and quickly decided she would do whatever it took to see him again. She reached for the small, brass bell sitting on her bedside table and gave it a ring, alerting Hope of her need for assistance.
Hope came scurrying into the room and took one look at Noelle and knew that she had been crying. "Oh, Milady, whatever is the matter? Are you not feeling well?"
"No, I am not," Noelle replied sadly, her bottom lip quivering. Hope's concern had made her feel emotional all over again.
"Shall I ring for some tea? Do you need to lie down? I could pull your covers back and help you into bed, if you would like."
"No, none of that will be necessary. It's not my body that aches; it's my heart. Father has done the most awful thing." Hope clutched a hand to her heart and waited curiously for Noelle to continue. "He has arranged for me to marry the Duke of Kerrington."
Though she said it with such disdain, Hope failed to see why that would make Noelle so miserable. Of course, she didn't know the duke, but one would presume he was a fine gentleman, if her father had seen fit to arrange for his only daughter to marry him. "Pardon, Milady, but I fail to see the horror in your predicament. Surely you should be honored to marry a duke."
Noelle snorted, "Ha! You sound like my father. The Duke of Kerrington is reputed to be a cold and uncaring man with frivolous pursuits, and I refuse to be wed to someone not of my own choosing." That part Hope could understand—she couldn't say she blamed her mistress for not wanting to marry a stranger.
"Well I am sure this has come as a shock to you, but I best say you make the most of the situation seeing as how there is nothing to be done for it now. Look on the bright side. At least you will be a duchess and will have your own large estate to manage and care for."
Noelle shook her head vehemently, "That's where you are wrong. There is something I plan to do about it, but I will need your help."
"Are you sure, Milady, what could I possibly do?" The minute the words escaped her mouth, she was filled with a sick foreboding, and she prayed that Noelle wouldn't ask her to pose as her again.
"I need you to go to the Hampshire's ball for me tonight so I will be free to go speak to Soren."
"Can't you just send him a note?" Hope pled, knowing it would never be that simple of a solution with Noelle.
"I already thought about that, but I know a note wouldn't be enough. I need to see him again. He leaves for America in a matter of days. This could be my last chance to see him before I am forced to marry."
"I fail to see the importance of meeting with him again. What do you expect to accomplish?"
"Oh Hope, have you not a romantic bone in your body? He may very well be the only man I will ever love. Surely you would not deny me the opportunity to see him one last time."
Hope knew she was in trouble. If she didn't agree to her plan, Noelle would surely force her into it once more. There was only one problem. "I cannot go to the ball in your place. I do not know how to dance." She hoped and prayed it would be sufficient enough to keep her from being forced to attend the ball.
"Drat, I hadn't thought of that. I suppose you will just have to inform my father that I have taken ill and won't be able to attend."
"Taken ill...again? It was only last week that you stayed home with a megrim. Your father might grow suspicious and insist on calling the doctor," Hope pointed out.
"Then tell him it is my monthlies. Surely he won't question that." Hope felt her cheeks heat at the thought of discussing such personal things with the master of the house. Noelle didn't seem to notice her discomfort and forged ahead. "I will need to borrow one of your dresses once more and have you pull my hair back into that horribly tight bun. I have no idea how you stand it. It is highly uncomfortable. While I'm gone, you will just have to stay here in my room so that, if anyone comes to question how I am feeling, you can answer for me."
"Do you think it is wise for you to go?" Hope didn't think it was but she already knew what Noelle's answer would be.
"Of course, I have no other choice. Now that you will not have to attend the ball, you can relax." But Hope knew she wouldn't be able to relax, not until that troublesome American had left the country for good.