And while Griffin knew very little about her marriage, he knew three things. Maxwell had spent most of his time in London, while Meredith remained in the country. They had never had a child. And as a result of whatever had happenedbetween Meredith and her late husband, she abhorred the institution of marriage.
“You know you turn thirty this autumn,” Meredith continued, pulling Griffin from his memories. “Your mother is at her wits’ end. She’s waited long enough, don’t you think?”
Griffin expelled a long breath. Blast it. Hehadpromised his mother he’d take a wife, but that promise had been made years ago, back when he’d been a soldier. Back when he’d assumed—no, hoped—he wouldn’t evenlivethrough the war. He’d made the promise to his mother via letter. Of course, Mama, who adored Meredith, had immediately told her the news. And Meredith had the memory of an elephant. She forgot nothing. Neither did Mama. Which meant…he should have known this day was coming.
“Fine. What are you proposing?” Griffin said with another sigh, already aware he would regret asking.
“This is the year,” Meredith announced after taking a sip of her tea. “With Gemma’s debut this week, it’s the perfect time. We’re going out in Society. I’ve been out of mourning, and you’ve been back in London for nearly a year. In addition to helping Gemma make a match, it’s time you find a wife. And I intend to help youandyour sister. What’s the point of being a duchess if you cannot help your friends?” There was that resolute nod again.
Ah, yes.Friends. They werefriends. She reminded him of that often. Hewantedto growl. Instead, he ensured that his voice sounded nothing but nonchalant. “Seems quite a lot to take on.” He’d perfected it over the years, sounding completely indifferent about his emotions. An effect of being ignored as a child and madly in love with a woman who didn’t love him back.
Meredith was right. This was the year. But not for her to help him find a wife. It was time for him to show Merediththey were perfect for each other. Endeavor to change her mind about marriage.
And he had a plan.
He’d never forgotten Meredith’s dream to be courted, given flowers, and taken for rides in the park. Her dream had turned into a nightmare when her father had unceremoniously announced her betrothal to the old Duke of Maxwell at the start of her first Season. But Griffin intended to change all that. He intended to make her dream come true. He would ask her to marry him at the Cartwrights’ annual Midsummer Night’s Ball. Because if Griffin was going to marry, ithadto be Meredith.
CHAPTER TWO
Five Nights Later, The Cranberrys’ Ballroom
Meredith twirled in a circle as she took in the sights and sounds of the crowded space. She was wearing a new gown she’d commissioned specially for the occasion. Lavender silk with an empire waist and tiny circles embroidered along the hem and sleeves. Her hair was pinned atop her head in a chignon, and she wore white slippers and gloves, and a diamond necklace that had belonged to her mother.
Mama. The thought of her always made Meredith’s throat tighten. What would Mama think of her now? Would she be proud that Meredith had become a duchess? Or would she be horrified that Meredith had failed as a wife by being unable to produce an heir to the Maxwell dukedom?
Meredith shook herself and forced a smile to her lips. This wasn’t the time to be melancholy. Or to ruminate on the awful past. It was the first ball of the London Season. Exciting and full of promise, filled with debutantes and gentlemen in search of proper wives. And this year, darlingGemma, Griffin’s younger sister, was among them. Meredith adored Gemma, and she’d promised to help the girl navigate the Season. Meredith may not have had the courtship and marriage ofherdreams, but she wished it for Gemma more than anything.
She knew exactly how Gemma felt, after all. The first ball ofMeredith’sfirst Season had been in this very place—the Cranberrys’ ballroom. The family had hosted the first ball of the Season for as long as anyone could remember. Meredith glanced up at the chandelier filled with candles and, for a moment, it was as if she’d stepped back in time. Back to that night.
She’d been so full of hope. So convinced she would finally have a chance to prove herself to her father, to finally make him proud. She’d been planning to find the perfect suitor. A duke, just as Father had said. Just as Mama had wanted.
Meredith had set her sights on the Duke of Grovemont. He was handsome and young and from a good family with a large fortune. What’s more, Ash and Griffin both liked him, and she trusted their judgement implicitly. She didn’t know it that night, but she needn’t have bothered trying to garner Grovemont’s attention.
Not a sennight after her debut, Meredith was having supper with Father at his town house. Their dinners had become a regular occurrence since she’d come to London to prepare for the Season. In fact, Meredith had seen more of her father that month than she had the entirety of her childhood. She’d already decided that Society was ever so much more exciting than being stuck out in the countryside, alone. She was enjoying every moment of her first Season, just as she’d always known she would.
“Cometo my study after dinner, Meredith,” Father said as if it were an afterthought or something he’d just remembered. “There’s something I need to speak to you about.”
Meredith, of course, was certain he wanted to discuss her marriage prospects. She was dutifully prepared to tell him about her promising dance with the Duke of Grovemont at the Whitfields’ ball the prior evening.
But when Meredith entered her father’s study an hour later and took a seat in the large leather chair in front of his desk, he tossed a small stack of papers toward her and managed a tight, brief smile.
“There,” he said, ever cryptic.
She pursed her lips and tipped her head to the side, not at all certain what he meant. “What is this?”
Father nodded at the papers. “It’s all settled. You’ll marry the Duke of Maxwell after the banns are read.”
Meredith’s heart plummeted to her stomach. “What?”
“The contract has been signed,” Father reported.
Panic clawed at Meredith’s insides. “But the Duke of Maxwell is…quite…old, is he not?” Her voice was high and thin, and she hated it.
“What does that have to do with it?” Father barked, narrowing his eyes on her, already disapproving.
“It’s just that…” She searched her mind for the proper words. There had to be some way to make Father understand. “I barely know him. I don’t—” She’d been about to say she didn’t like what she did know about him. Not only was Maxwell old and unattractive, but there had also been rumors that he’d been cruel to his late wife. She’d died many years ago, but the rumors continued to swirl.
Her father impatiently slashed his hand through the air. “I thought you’d be pleased about this, Meredith. After all, you’ll be aduchess. It’s what your mother wanted.” He grabbed his lapels and stared at her, anger radiating from him in nearly palpable waves.
