TheWifeTrap (22 page)

Aye, he assured himself, casting aside his doubts, she loved him.
He had only to make her confess it—to herself, as well as to him.

“Nay, I am not mistaken,” he told Raeburn with more confidence
than he actually felt. “So, have I your agreement to keep quiet and let me tell
her the truth in my own way and time?”

The grin widened on the duke’s face, brown eyes twinkling with an
irrepressible gleam. “Deceive Jeannette? What a perfect turning of the tables.
Yes indeed, you have my word and my permission to wed her, assuming you haven’t
decided to run, after all.”

“Not a bit. Circumstances may have forced my hand, but fate has a
curious way of working miracles. Even if we had no need to marry, I’d still
want her for my bride.”

“In that case,” Raeburn said, extending his hand, “let me welcome
you to the family, Lord Mulholland.”

“Darragh, your Grace. Darragh will do fine.”

Chapter Fourteen

“You look beautiful.”

Jeannette didn’t respond to her sister’s declaration, barely
slowing as she paced from one end of the church’s narrow antechamber to the
other. She gazed down at the dress, a garment that in its own way had played a
part in leading her to this alarming turning point in her life.

It was the gown Darragh had given her all those weeks ago, the one
she had once returned.

A few days ago, Darragh had presented the dress to her again, this
time as a wedding gift, asking her with sincerity shining in his eyes if she
would consent to wear it for the ceremony.

Caught in a moment of unexpected vulnerability—an emotion from
which she seemed to suffer a lot lately—she had found herself murmuring “Yes.”

And it did make a charming wedding gown, as lovely as the instant
she’d first glimpsed it, the delicate rose-tinted silk fitting her body as if
the gown had been crafted exclusively for her, the band of embroidered white
roses and green leaves that trailed across the skirt lending the garment an
unmistakably romantic grace.

If only today’s ceremony was truly a joyous one.

Quivering at the realization, she fluttered her hands in a flurry
of nerves. “Oh, what am I to do?”

Violet reached out, stilled Jeannette’s restless hands inside her
own. “You are to do what the situation requires. Walk down the aisle in a few
minutes and marry Mr. O’Brien. That is all you can do and what you must do.
There are no other options.”

No other options.

The words tolled between her ears like a funeral dirge. In the
five days since she and Darragh had been caught together in the conservatory,
she had tried desperately to conceive of a way out of proceeding with this
marriage. Yet as the days flew past, one by one, nothing had come to mind, her
panic increasing with the rising of each morning sun.

Her family was of no help whatsoever.

After the initial meeting in the study that first morning, Darragh
and Adrian had emerged from the room grinning and talking like best friends.
She’d been dismayed at first, then irritated. How could they be so cozy
together so quickly? Did Adrian care nothing for Darragh’s lack of proper
lineage? Surely he could not be eager to welcome the Merriweathers’ architect
into the family?

But apparently he could.

Violet, Kit and Eliza Hammond were introduced to Darragh next, and
after an initial spate of awkwardness, quickly fell prey to his charm as well.
By the end of the first afternoon, it was as if she and Darragh were engaged by
choice rather than necessity. Only she and her cousins seemed less than
enthused.

The Merriweathers, in fact, could barely stand to look at her,
particularly Cousin Cuthbert, who grew red-cheeked and flustered every time she
came near. Wilda did her best to be polite, but the usual warmth she had always
shown to Jeannette was gone.

And really, how could she blame either of them? She had
embarrassed her relations in the most mortifying of ways. And despite the fact
that her reputation would be restored upon her nuptials, the delicious details
of the scandal would linger on. Likely for quite some while, since, unlike in
London, scandals of this magnitude didn’t happen in the country all that often.

As for herself and Darragh, the two of them barely had time to
exchange more than a few words. Her plan to waylay him prior to his
conversation with Adrian had gone completely awry because Betsy had, of all
things, let her oversleep! By the time she’d dressed and hurried down the
stairs it had been too late, the men already behind closed doors.

Afterward she’d waited, expecting Darragh to seek her out for a
private conversation. Instead he’d come to her when she was with company, her
sister and Eliza in the room looking on.

“So we shall be wed, then,” he’d said as though it was a foregone
conclusion and there was nothing else to discuss. She had wanted to argue but
felt reluctant to do so in front of the others. Before she had a chance to shoo
them out, Darragh had announced that he would be leaving immediately for
Dublin, where he could obtain a special license. As soon as he returned, he
declared, they would be married.

She’d balked at the notion of being married in such haste, but
everyone else had chimed in, agreeing that she and Darragh must be wed without
delay. To do otherwise would only prolong the scandal, inviting even more
gossip, censure and disgrace.

So here she stood in her wedding dress that was not a wedding
dress, waiting to be irrevocably joined in matrimony to a man she had never
intended to wed. Even if said man did happen to make her pulse jitter and her
knees turn to the consistency of pudding every time he touched her. Even if he
had the power to make her emotions zing and zip from one end of the spectrum to
the other, turning her madder than a yellow jacket one minute then teasing a
hearty laugh out of her the next. A life spent with him would never be easy,
she realized. Then again, it would also never be dull.

Violet gave her a knowing look as if she could read Jeannette’s
thoughts—which perhaps she nearly could, considering they were twins. “It is
obvious you have feelings for Mr. O’Brien, considering the cause of today’s
hasty nuptials. And in spite of the unenviable circumstances, he seems a good
man. Adrian told me he was most favorably impressed with him.”

“Mayhap Adrian is, but he isn’t the one being wed to the man. He
isn’t the one being asked to give up her family and friends, being expected to
move into the frontier.”

“Ireland has a frontier?” Violet queried, a skeptically amused
gleam in her eyes.

“It does compared to England! O’Brien plans to take me to his home
in the western wilds for our honeymoon. Even Cousin Wilda says she’s heard it
is a rough, untamed land where half the populace doesn’t even speak
English.
I was supposed to be going back home to Surrey with you.”

Her twin gave her a sorrowful look.

“Oh, Violet, I can’t go through with the wedding,” Jeannette said,
letting her trepidation show in her eyes, ring in her voice. “You have to help
me. We must find a way to delay the vows long enough to send word to Mama and
Papa. Surely once they learn what is happening, they will wish to aid me. Find
some other, less irrevocable means of remedying the situation.”

She gazed down, studying one snowy satin pump. “I know I’ve
brought disgrace upon them yet again, upon us all, but it isn’t entirely my
fault. Darragh seduced me. I…didn’t realize how far a simple kiss might go
until it was far, far too late.”

Her sister rested a hand atop her protruding belly. “So you’re
saying he’s a rake?”

“No, I’m saying he’s…” She trailed off, trying to decide exactly
what it was she was attempting to say. Swallowing against the tightness lodged
in her throat, she continued. “He has a way about him that quite makes a girl
lose her head.
He
approached me in the conservatory. I fail to see why
I should be forced to accept all of the blame.”

“Women are always the ones forced to accept the blame when it
comes to matters of virtue and modesty. Be glad, Jeannette, that he is
honorable enough to wed you and restore what he can of your reputation.” Violet
hesitated, a mild frown wrinkling her forehead. “Unless when you say
seduced
you actually mean
forced.
He didn’t force you, did he?”

This was her out, Jeannette realized, her way to gain her twin’s
complete sympathy and support—and thus, her freedom. If Violet believed Darragh
had tried to violate her, not even the ensuing uproar would keep her sister
from rallying to her side and preventing the wedding.

Yet even as she opened her lips to utter the falsehood, she
hesitated, the words refusing to come. Whatever Darragh O’Brien’s faults,
however obstinate and outrageous, brash and, on occasion, bossy he might be, he
wasn’t the sort of man who would ever resort to forcing his attentions upon a
woman.

For one thing, he didn’t need to. Men like O’Brien attracted women
the way flowers lured bees. She suspected he could stand silent in a field and
some winsome girl would find him, an encouraging smile on her lips.

For another, he was too innately decent a man to ever cause harm
to something smaller or weaker than himself, be that something a woman, child
or animal.

He would be hurt, she thought, imagining his shock and
disillusionment should she lie and cry rape. If she perpetrated such a horrible
deceit, her conscience would haunt her for the rest of her days. So, no matter
her misgivings over their pending union, she would not resort to using such a
low method of escape.

Her shoulders sagged. “No, he did not force me. I returned his
attentions of my own free will.”

“Then I am afraid there is nothing for it,” Violet said. “The two
of you must be married. Now, if you are ready, I imagine we should be getting
on with the ceremony.”

“But what about Mama and Papa? It only seems right they should be
consulted before I take such a monumental step. Instead of proceeding with the
wedding today, we could postpone it and return to England exactly as planned.
Once there I shall plead my case. You could help me. They listened to you once.
I am sure they would do so again.”

An expression of regretful resignation settled over Violet’s face.
“Unfortunately, I am sure they would not. You have no notion of the lengths I
went to in order to convince them to let you come home in the first place. And
now with this new scandal…Oh, Jeannette, it’s just no use. And if you were to
return home unwed…well, I hesitate to say this, but our parents might very well
disown you.”

Jeannette drew in a harsh inhalation, then waved off her shock an
instant later. “They would not, do not be absurd. Mama and Papa have always
doted on me, you know that better than anyone. You are being extreme, that is
all.”

“I am not. Papa grumbles and growls about everything, so I cannot
comment upon his true feelings. But as for Mama, well, I have never seen her so
thoroughly distressed as she was after learning the truth about what we did.
She has been quite beside herself ever since. Breaking the news to her that you
have made an impecunious marriage will be difficult enough. Telling her you are
ruined with no wish to marry the man responsible—”

Violet broke off, shivered delicately. “I am sorry, but you must
marry Mr. O’Brien and make the best of whatever is to come. Even if I were
willing, there can be no trading places this time, no last-minute possibilities
of flight. If you do not marry him you will bring irreparable disgrace upon our
families. A disgrace from which neither Adrian nor I could ever hope to shield
you, especially considering we have had our own difficulties of late in that
regard.

“Should you be cast out,” Violet continued, “I don’t know what
would become of you. You could live with us, I suppose, if Adrian would permit
it. Otherwise, you would be on your own, and I fear for you should that happen.
No one would have you as a governess—”

Jeannette gave a delicate snort. “I wouldn’t want them to.”

“—which would leave you with no reputable options. You might even
have to become…” Violet broke off, clearly distraught.

“Some man’s mistress, is that what you were going to say?”

Her twin met her gaze, Violet’s sad but serious. “Accept your
fate, Jeannette, and do your best to be happy. Once you are husband and wife, I
think you may be surprised how well you and Mr. O’Brien get on.”

“What if we don’t?” Jeannette’s insides squeezed uncomfortably at
the prospect. Truly, she and Darragh knew little about each other and had even
less in common. What if those differences grew more pronounced instead of less
once they found themselves shackled together for a lifetime?

She repeated her qualms aloud to her sister.

A gentle smile curved Violet’s lips. “Ah, but you have genuine
passion between you, something of which a great many couples cannot boast,
especially those of our class. And there is the way he looks at you, when he
thinks you do not notice.”

“And how is that?” Jeannette asked, unable to resist the inquiry.

“With the longing and intensity of a man gazing upon a rare and
cherished prize. Perhaps he isn’t who you would have chosen, but he is the man
you will have. Give him a chance. Give your union a chance and let him make you
happy.”

“Likely Darragh and I shall drive each other to distraction, and I
shall find myself more miserable than I have ever been in my whole life.”

Violet sighed. “I pray you will find otherwise. But if, after a
time, you discover yourself desolate beyond all hope, know that you may always
come to me. We have had hard words and bad feelings between us in the past, but
you are my sister. I care, even if you do make me want to throttle you
sometimes.”