A Marriage of His Mercy

A Marriage of His Mercy

Book 3 in the ‘Marriage Series’

A marriage of mercy, of friendship, of mutual benefit, but never one of love…

Viola Fox

Marriage is a given for ladies in my position.

We are trained to become wives and mothers, to be a vital cog in a gentleman’s need to produce an heir.

But what if there are no suitors? What if every time a gentleman shows any sort of interest, someone is there to stop them?

Time has passed and I am still unmarried, still unable to inherit my father’s estate, unless…

Unless I wed a monster who has haunted me since childhood. If I am forced into such a union, I know what I must do, know what I would rather do.

No one can save me from that fate now…can they?

Frederick Brown

Look at him, Victoria, look at how wonderful our son is!

Ah, yes, years of conversing with my late wife whom I lost only after eighteen months of marriage. I suppose heartbreak does that to a man. As does taking a vow to never lie with another woman again. Tending to our son whilst having these mental conversations with her is enough…isn’t it?

It was enough. But then I ran into an acquaintance from my past, a meddlesome friend who is intent on saving a beautiful young lady from a terrible fate, but only with my help.

Mercy, she calls it; scheming would be more apt.

But mercy I can offer; mercy I can live with. What I cannot allow is for either one of us to fall in love.

A simple feat, no?

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Sample:

“Do you feel anything for me?” he asks so suddenly, I drop my mouth open in shock. Indeed, I suspend breath for a few moments too long and am left feeling dizzy.

“Frederick, I do not know what to say to such a question,” I sigh, feeling, for the first time, disappointed in him. How can he ask me such a thing when he has already told me we can never be anything other than what we are. I am about to get to my feet when he lifts my chin so I am forced to face him and look into those beautiful eyes of his. “Frederick, what is this?”

“I feel things for you, Viola, things I would never feel for Lady Winton; things I have only ever felt for one other person,” he says, and my heart begins to pound inside of my chest. He’s saying words I thought I would only dream of him saying, however, from the look on his face, they pain him. “And so, I am caught in the most impossible position, between my first wife and my new wife. I want to give you all the things I gave to her, including all the love in my heart, as well as the passion a new husband gives to his bride. I want to give you babies and family, Viola, but—”

“But you also want to remain faithful to Victoria, I know this, Frederick,” I interrupt him, feeling close to tears, for the situation is both frustrating and painful. “Please, I can accept this, and I can live with it; I have lived through much worse, Frederick, I am strong.”

“I know you are, Viola, you are so strong,” he says as he brings my hand to his lips and kisses it.

He kissed me inside of the church, but this is different; this is private and intimate. I have to close my eyes to it, to stop the idea of this giving me any sort of hope that we could be more. But then, with my eyes remaining closed, I feel his lips press against mine while his hand cups around my neck. I feel so many things, so many emotions, that I release a gasp. I want it, all of it, so much, but this only means I must stop this now before too much damage is done.

With reluctance, I get to my feet, breaking all contact and walking away to create some much-needed distance. When I turn to face him again, he is hunched over his knees, which can only mean I made the right decision to end this now.

“I am strong, Frederick,” I whisper, “and I am more than grateful for everything you have done for me, for your kindness, I truly am. But please do not offer me false hope, Frederick, I beg of you.”

“You are right,” he says ashamedly as he too, gets to his feet. He walks towards me but stops before getting too close, and I release a stream of air through my lips. “I am sorry, Viola.”

“Goodnight, Frederick.”

“Goodnight,” he utters before nodding his head slightly, with all formalities returned after our first and only moment of intimacy. He then marches towards the door to make his exit. However, before he leaves altogether, he turns to face me again. “I cannot believe I am having to ask such a thing, Viola, but might we be able to—”

“Already forgotten,” I reply, feeling as if I might end up crying before he’s even left, which is something I pray will not happen.