Bound by Honor

Chapter 4

The sounds at the door resonating through the empty church interrupted

his thoughts. His bride must have arrived.

Percy turned. She stood next to her father, a slim girl with hair the color of

ripe wheat, arranged high on her head and adorned with some lace and

dainty, white flowers. She wore a simple, white dress and held a bouquet

of white roses.

She gazed at him then, and he saw a sudden flicker of recognition in her

eyes. Her lips compressed with displeasure. No wonder. He should have

introduced himself yesterday.

With visible impatience, the Earl of Stanville offered his daughter an arm

and started walking down the aisle rather too quickly for the occasion.

Apparently, he too could not wait for this to be over. Lady Letitia Parker

had hardly time to lift the hem of her dress before stepping on it.

They reached the altar in record time, and after responding to Percy’s

perfunctory bow with a mere jerk of his head, Stanville motioned the

parson to proceed.

Percy said his vows as prompted and listened with indifference to his

bride’s recitation of her part. When a moment later he bent down to place a

disinterested peck near the corner of her mouth, her large green eyes

seared him with a pointed accusation.

Stanville was already walking away from the table where the register had

been placed for their convenience. He reached them as soon as they

turned away from the altar.

“My best wishes for your happiness,” he mumbled, examining his pocket

watch. “I must be off, if you will excuse me.”

And without so much as one look at his daughter and son-in-law, he

turned and hastily left the church. The sounds of his departing carriage

echoed between the old walls as Percy led his bride toward the table with

the register. Stanville’s lack of paternal love barely intruded upon his mind.

His heart already beat with the expectation of the coming night. The

moment he had dreamed of for years was only hours away.

Letitia glanced at the elegant man next to her as the carriage set in

motion. He had a good profile too, but that meant nothing to her now. She

was driving away with a stranger who had just become her closest family

for the rest of her life. It was a very depressing realization. Only the

knowledge that Josepha must have already reached their new home

brought a measure of comfort and consolation.

“You knew yesterday who I was, but you deliberately misled me,” she

said, breaking the silence eclipsed only by the sounds of a moving

carriage.

Sir Percival turned toward her. His eyes, inscrutable and as dark as she

remembered them, measured her face with slow interest. He leaned back

against the seat cushions.

“And you were deliberately rude, ma’am.”

“I was not the one trespassing. And you looked like a highwayman

escaping the noose in that horrible coat of yours.”

His set features relaxed for the first time since she’d seen him standing at

the altar. “I beg your pardon for giving you such a fright,” he replied with a

hint of laughter. “As it happens, I am attached to that garment.”

“Why did you not introduce yourself?”

“Neither did you,” he pointed out.

When it became apparent he was not going to say anything more, she

said, “I assume my father paid you well.”

“Your father gave me what I wanted.”

Fear gripped her by the throat. Doubtless, his appetite did not differ much

from that of the others.

“What about the plantations?” She tried to keep the anxiety from her

question.

He seemed surprised by it. “What do you mean?”

“Did my father give them to you? As my dowry?”

“No.”

She bit her lip to hide the involuntary smile of relief, then glanced at her

husband to see if he’d noticed her reaction. He regarded her with some

curiosity.

“I’m relieved to see you do not seem distressed by your father’s decision,”

he remarked. “I would find it impossible to accept them, even if he wished

to include them in your dowry. Forgive me for saying this, but s*****y is a

repugnant way of obtaining wealth.”

Then he shifted to face her better. “Since we have another mile or so

before we reach my home at Bromsholme, let us use it to discuss the

subject of our impending coexistence and try to settle the affairs between

us as much as possible at this stage. In a marriage of convenience, we

ought to make our covenant clear from the start.”

“Covenant? Whatever you mean by that, sir, I am sure I do not know.”

She peered at him, but his face betrayed nothing. Weariness crept into her

heart. Whatever tiny hope she had nurtured that perhaps, just perhaps, he

might be a little different from her father seemed to be dissipating under

his pronouncement.

“In such cases as ours, it is advantageous, I believe, to state clearly the

expectations each party has of the other,” he explained. “I will tell you,

then, what I expect of you as my wife, and you can do the same. I trust we

can resolve our differences expeditiously.”

“Frankly, sir, if I could have my way, I would not be here.”

“For my part,” he said, ignoring her comment, “I expect you to take over

the duties of running the household, fulfill our social obligations in the

neighborhood and behave as a lady should.”

“Behave as a lady? How dare you! You know nothing about me.”

“Very true. We are complete strangers. I know only what your father

chose to tell me and what I was able to confirm when in town last week.”

“You went to London to inquire after my conduct?” she asked

incredulously.

“No. I went to purchase the special license we used so successfully half

an hour ago. However, my curiosity was easily satisfied. You are still the

talk of town, even though, I suspect, most of what I heard must be pure

imagination.”

“Indeed, sir, it is all one big lie!”

“My point exactly,” he agreed. “You will keep from fueling circulation of

such lies, as my wife and in this neighborhood.”

“Is this all?” she asked.

“Yes,” he replied. “Now, perhaps you can tell me what you expect of me.”

Letitia darted an assessing glance at him. “How many children do you

have, and what are their ages?” she asked.

He blinked as if she’d taken him by surprise, and pressed his lips together

in a tight line, without responding immediately. After a few seconds, she

began to worry that he had trouble counting them all or remembering their

ages.

“None,” he said at last.

Well, that at least was a relief.

“You haven’t told me yet about your expectations,” he reminded her when

she said nothing more.

“I have none.”