Margot deserved better than someone like him and the marriage of convenience he now sought. Unless of course, she didn’t care about love and just wanted to be a marchioness and gain status in society. He knew her parents hoped for that—it was the entire reason Josiah had originally approached Roman with an offer to wed Clarissa. He’d known that Roman was in need of funds, and he’d wanted to have friends—or family—in lofty places.
However, Roman and Clarissa’s marriage hadn’t worked out the way anyone had intended. Clarissa had gone along with her parents’ wishes despite already having given her heart to another. Josiah and Harriet believed she’d been a willing participant, but it turned out she was increasingly unhappy. They did not know about her love affair, and Roman planned never to tell them.
“Will you at least spend more time together if you won’t yet enter into a formal courtship?” Harriet asked hopefully. “I feel confident you will form a close bond. I do realize I’m being a bit selfish, because I would like grandchildren.”
Margot met her mother’s gaze. “I know, Mama. We will endeavor to spend more time together.” She looked over at Roman, who nodded in agreement.
They finished the course, and the ladies withdrew, leaving Roman and Josiah to their port.
Josiah swirled the wine in his glass. “I hope Harriet isn’t being too forceful with her talk of marriage.”
“Not at all,” Roman said politely. “She cares for Margot and wants to see her settled.”
“She does indeed.” Josiah sipped his port and sent a sideways glance toward Roman. “Are you truly interested in marrying Margot? I would understand if you’re hesitant. I know your union with Clarissa was not what we had all hoped it would be. Were you happy at all?” Josiah asked, his features creased with deep and, what seemed to Roman, heartfelt concern.
“I was,” Roman replied, and it wasn’t entirely untrue. He had been happy at the start. When he had believed that both he and Clarissa had entered into the marriage in good faith.
“I’m glad to hear that,” Josiah said. “I do think you’re perhaps better suited to Margot, particularly given her interest and passion for her work with Lacey and Company. She would make you an excellent partner in home and in business.”
“That is appealing,” Roman agreed. “But I do hope you’ll let her decide without any undue pressure.”
“That is what happened with Clarissa, isn’t it?” Josiah posed the question in a whisper that was difficult to hear. “I know it is,” he added more loudly with a confident nod. “She once told me, before you were wed, that she hoped she wasn’t making a mistake. I thought she was worried about being a marchioness. She sometimes lacked confidence. As I said, Margot is likely a better match for you.” Grief and regret briefly shadowed his features.
“I hope you don’t blame yourself for Clarissa’s death,” Roman said earnestly.
Josiah didn’t hesitate. “No, nor do I blame you. She was deeply unhappy and hid it from all of us. Harriet and I wish we knew why.”
Roman knew, of course, but would never tell them. He’d suspected she was unfaithful and confronted her about it. She’d tried to lie, but Roman had seen the truth. Furious and hurt, he’d demanded that she end the affair and reveal the man’s identity. She refused to do either, saying she was deeply in love. Roman had considered hiring someone to follow her, to discover her lover, but had decided against revealing his wife’s infidelity to anyone. Instead, he told her what a disappointment she would be to her parents. That had bothered her, but it still hadn’t been enough to persuade her to terminate the liaison.
As Roman continued to question her about her lover, she began taking laudanum. After several weeks of persistent arguing and turmoil, she’d flown into a rage one night and admitted that her paramour had grown tired of her. She’d furiously lamented that she’d ruined her life for nothing. Roman hadn’t known how to respond, so he’d simply left her to her ravings.
The next morning, she didn’t wake. She’d ingested too much laudanum. Whether she’d imbibed too much on purpose or by accident could never be known, and to Roman it made no difference.
Roman and Josiah hadn’t ever discussed Clarissa’s death and whether it was intentional. “I hope you know that I tried to make her happy,” Roman said.
“Of course I do. I should not have pushed her to wed. She was too reserved for you, but I didn’t know you well then.” His features darkened again. “It was a tragedy for which there is no one at fault.”
That wasn’t true. Clarissa’s lover carried the blame. What kind of man pursued a young, unwed lady and continued to do so after she became another’s wife? And how depraved was he to turn away from her then, not from a fit of conscience but because he was weary of her? If Roman ever discovered his identity, he’d ensure the man suffered. His careless behavior had destroyed Clarissa and ravaged her family.
Josiah somehow brightened, his lips curling into a smile. “Harriet and I are so grateful to have you in our lives. You eased the pain of Clarissa’s passing as we shared our grief. Like my wife, I have selfish reasons for wanting you to marry Margot, but it isn’t about grandchildren. I very much like having you as part of our family.” He blinked, then looked toward his port, but Roman had seen the man’s emotion.
“I feel the same. You are the father I wish I’d had.” Roman lifted his glass, and Josiah did the same.
“To family,” Josiah said. “You shall always be a part of ours.”
“Thank you.” Roman’s throat felt oddly tight, and he had to wait a moment before he could drink his port.
“Are you still pleased with Mr. Ellis?” Josiah asked after a moment.
Roman was glad for the easier topic. “Exceedingly. He is everything I need in a secretary.”
“How do you like having him live with you? Do you expect him to work all the time?” Josiah asked with a chuckle.
“He does work quite a bit, but I try not to be too demanding. He’s made great progress in fixing everything my former secretary bungled.”
“I’m sure that is a great relief to you.”
“It is.” Roman took another sip of his port.
