she was the sister who had enough backbone to run away with a man of her choosing, who wasn’t the good girl always doing as her parents bid. But she couldn’t help it. She had always been that way.
“Lord Heatherstone and his son will secure a special license. Apparently, he is eager to return to his estate in Cheshire and has agreed to marry you only if you can return as soon as possible.”
“What?” Her fork fell to her plate with a clatter. “But I wasn’t to be married for months!”
Her father shook his head. “I’m sorry, Hannah. The truth is, we don’t want to see you go so quickly either. But I’m sure you will be back to visit often.”
Again, lies, Hannah realized, anger beginning to burn in her belly. If all was to be believed, Lord Edmund would have no desire to return to London. He would keep her away in Cheshire. Turmoil began anew within her. If the stranger’s words about Lord Byron had been true, then what would his brother be like?
“Mother?” she implored, but when her mother finally looked up, it was with tears in her eyes before she lifted her glass and drank its entire contents.
“We best prepare your trousseau,” was all she finally said, as Hannah’s stomach sank.
There was no going back now.
Chapter 3
Why was the parlor so dimly lit? Hannah wondered as she arrived at the Heatherstones’ townhouse with her parents. She had been given three days to prepare. She would be married by special license this morning and then would be off to Hollingswood Manor near Cheshire, a carriage ride that would take three days. She would be going alone with her husband but for her maid, who seemed to carry as much trepidation about the future as Hannah herself did.
They were greeted by Lord and Lady Heatherstone, who didn’t exactly look as though they had completely recovered from the affairs at the party. The only one who seemed unaffected was Lord Byron himself, who remained seated in a carved Louis XV chair in the drawing room, waving a jaunty hello when they walked in.
Hannah nodded, looking around for the man she was going to spend the rest of her life with.
“Where is Lord Edmund?” her father demanded, apparently thinking the same thing.
“He shall be with us momentarily,” Lord Heatherstone said, looking nearly as ill as Hannah felt.
There was a sound from behind them, and they all turned as one when a figure filled the doorway. As he stepped through the threshold, Hannah had to place a hand over her mouth to cover her gasp.
He was tall, as were the rest of the men in his family. His long, dark hair was pulled back in a queue reminiscent of days of old. But it was his face that had captured her attention – how could it not? One side was near perfection, all chiseled jaw and cheekbone, a fine eyebrow over a blue eye that pierced right into her. It was the other side though, that no one would ever be able to ignore. It was… well, it was destroyed. The top part was a mangle of scars, the eyebrow gone, the skin stretched over his eye so low that it appeared nearly closed. The scars continued down his face to the side of his nose, where they began to return to the skin he had been born with.
He faced them all down with a challenging expression, as though he was waiting for them to swoon or to scream or, most likely, to call the marriage off. Hannah heard her mother let out a bit of a whimper, while her father began looking between Lord Edmund and Hannah as though he was second-guessing handing over his daughter.
“Well,” Lord Heatherstone said, clapping his hands together, discomfort covering his face. “Shall we get on with it?”
There was more behind his question than a simple statement to move along the wedding. In truth, he was obviously asking if Hannah and her family were still willing to go through with it after seeing Lord Edmund.
Hannah returned her gaze to her future husband, sensing the vulnerability lurking behind his proud stare. She yearned to know what had happened to him, what had caused such scarring, and how he had survived it. She knew he had fought in the war, knew he had been injured, but hadn’t been aware of the extent of it. No wonder he had hidden himself away far from London.