Fenella J Miller - [Duke 02] (3 page)

With a sigh Ralph sank back in his seat. He had made a sad mull of things, exacerbated the situation instead of improving it. God's teeth! He'd offered to buy the boy his colours last year but this had been thrown back in his face. He should never have listened to their mother. When the boy had wanted to join the cavalry he should have allowed it. His brother was at far greater risk in England than he would be on the Continent. With Napoleon safely locked up on Elba there were no battles to be fought which was possibly why his brother no longer wished to join.

He had the unpleasant duty of informing Mama that not only had Rupert not apologised for his reprehensible behaviour, he had ignored the warnings about his allowance being cut off. Convincing her that he was being cruel to be kind was going to be difficult. Letting Rupert accumulate debts, become unpopular with his creditors, was the only way to persuade his brother to give up his reckless ways.

He munched his way through several scones and strawberry conserve and emptied the coffee jug before he felt ready to go upstairs. When his mother had taken a crashing fall the previous year and severely damaged her back, the specialist from London had been certain she would eventually regain strength in her legs and be able to walk. However this had not happened; the months passed and his beloved parent remained marooned in her apartment seemingly no nearer recovering than she had been before Christmas.

Being the bearer of such bad tidings might well set her back even further. He could delay no longer; he’d heard Ralph gallop off down the drive more than a half an hour ago. His valet, the uncomplaining Evans, would no doubt follow behind in the carriage.

His mother looked up, her face sad. “My dear, don't look so worried. I’m well aware what took place both last night and today. Nothing remains a secret for very long.” She patted the space at the end of the
chaise longue
. “Come and sit down, tell me what you decided.”

He bent down and kissed her still golden hair. “He stormed off, as usual, ignoring everything I said to him. I’m afraid, Mama, this time I’m determined to stick to my word. I will not be cajoled or wheedled into paying his debts or rescuing him from any scrapes.”

“And neither should you, my love. It’s high time Rupert understood his wild behaviour has consequences not only for himself, but also for those who love him. I’m quite sure a spell in a debtor’s prison would do him good.”

“Good God! I shall not let it come to that.” His mother’s gurgle of laughter broke the tension. “You are an insufferable tease, Mama, and I should not let myself be taken in.”

“I know you too well, dear boy. For all his faults, and I’m the first to admit he has many, he has no malice in him and will soon come to his senses. His fair weather friends will desert him if he has no gold in his pockets. Then he will see we were right and come home to straighten himself out.”

“In which case, Mama, we must both pray he does nothing too foolhardy before his blunt runs out.”

*

Hadley Manor

Anna waited whilst her friend removed her bonnet and gloves. “Well, Marianne, what is it that has brought you here in such a flurry?”

“I have received a letter from Lydia Banister. You remember her? She was in the year below us at the seminary? Well, her brother is a great friend of Mr Simmons and a Lord Rupert Shalford.”

Anna was becoming more puzzled by the moment. “What have these gentlemen to do with me?”

“I was coming to that, Anna. It seems Lord Shalford is in a similar position to you; he wishes to contract a marriage of convenience immediately. His brother, The Duke of Westchester, is a cruel monster and is denying him his rightful inheritance. The only way he can access his own money is by marrying. He has reached his majority and needs no permission.”

“My dear Marianne, this sounds like a tale from one of your more lurid romances.” A horrible sinking feeling developed in the pit of her stomach. “Tell me you have not spoken of my situation to complete strangers? I could not bear it if you have done so.”

Her friend blushed scarlet. “I might have mentioned it in passing; I can assure you Lydia is the soul of discretion.”

“So discreet that she discussed the fact you have a friend seeking a suitable husband with a friend of her brother?” Anna was tempted to throw a book at Marianne but sensibly refrained. “It will be all over the county by the end of the week. I shall be ruined and Sir John will be justifiably incensed.”

“Oh no, it will not come to that,” was the airy reply. “I have all the necessary information about Shalford. Dearest Lydia included the information with her letter. All you have to do is decide if he is the sort of person you could think of marrying. I’m sure in a year or two you could have the marriage dissolved or annulled or something of that sort.”

The paper was held out and reluctantly Anna took it. She quickly scanned the contents:

Shalford was the youngest son of a duke; he was one and twenty, had a large estate in Essex, several smaller ones elsewhere, and sufficient funds to keep a wife and live comfortably. Why should the son of a duke wish to marry her? He could look far higher.

“Marianne, I am not an eligible bride for someone as top-lofty as Lord Shalford. We must forget your harebrained scheme.”

“I told you, Anna, he wishes to escape from the tyranny of the duke. You are the granddaughter of an earl – that’s grand enough for a younger son.”

Her pulse quickened. Was this the miracle she’d prayed for? Lydia Banister seemed an unlikely conduit through which the Almighty might work but stranger things did happen.

“Are you sure these details are correct? That Shalford is in a similar position to me and is only contracting a marriage of convenience to remove himself from the control of his unpleasant brother?”

Marianne clapped her hands. “Everything is absolutely accurate, I have Lydia’s word. Are you going to meet Shalford?”

“If he can be at The Kings Head in St Albans the day after tomorrow then I shall meet him to discuss the matter. I’m not so desperate I will marry without first meeting my future husband. If I cannot like him, even though it will be in name only, I shall not consent but continue on my way to Isobel Cunningham’s home in Romford.”

“I cannot believe you are about to embark on such a romantic adventure, Anna. Is there anything else I can do for you before I leave? I didn’t tell Mama I was coming here and she might be anxious about my absence.”

“No, dearest friend, I shall be forever in your debt. I must write to Lord Shalford at his London address and pray he receives it in time. I must assume he will have obtained the special licence in case we decide to go ahead with this.”

“I believe one can obtain such a document in Town. I must ride through the village on my way home so I will delay for a few more minutes whilst you write your letter then I can send it for you. It must go express, you know, to ensure it arrives in good time.”

Twenty minutes later Marianne had departed with the letter and Anna explained to Molly what her new plans were. They were not received well.

“Miss Hadley, whatever were you thinking of? If you will pardon me for saying so, Miss Duncan is of a romantic nature and not the most practical young lady. How can you be sure you’re not stepping from one problem into another?”

“Enough! You forget yourself, Molly. I am not committing myself to anything
before
I meet Lord Shalford. If I decide not to proceed then I shall continue on my way to Romford

and things will be as before. I have nothing to lose and possibly everything to gain.”

“I beg your pardon, I’m sure.” Molly shook her head. “Then I had best complete your packing. Shall I leave out the gown I altered for you, the one with the matching spencer and bonnet?”

“No, I think it best that I travel as inconspicuously as possible. A lady alone on a stage could be the subject of unpleasant attention from male passengers. However I shall wear it if I
do
decide to marry.”

The very idea was quite nonsensical but for the first time since her mother had died her spirits were high. Finally she had something to look forward to.

The journey to St Albans was uneventful and Anna had no difficulty discovering the direction of The King’s Head. The inn was but a short step from the hostelry at which she had alighted. She spoke to the landlord and arranged for her trunk to be transported leaving her maid to manage the smaller bags.

“We have arrived in good time, Molly, and should have no difficulty reserving a room for tonight. I wonder if Lord Shalford has also arrived.”

Her maid shifted a carpet bag under her arm before answering. “Didn’t he say the time you were to meet, Miss Hadley?”

“Indeed he did; he was most precise with his instructions. We are to
rendezvous
in a private parlour at exactly four o’clock. We are to spend an hour together before deciding if we wish to proceed. You will remain with me at all times, of course, Molly.”

“Yes, miss, I’ll not let you out of my sight. If you decide to go ahead, when will the ceremony take place?”

“At six o’clock. Then we shall dine together and retire to our separate chambers. Tomorrow we shall depart for his estate in Essex where our lawyers will attend us to arrange for the release of our funds.”

Speaking the words out loud made it all seem horribly real. What was she thinking of? How could she be contemplating entering the holy state of matrimony when she had no intention of honouring, obeying, and certainly not begetting. To be about to marry a complete stranger for mercenary reasons, however pressing these were, was beginning to seem very wrong.

“Here we are, it was no distance at all. I shall go at once and speak to the landlord.” Anna walked into the dim interior of the ancient building. The beamed ceiling would be a hazard to anyone above average height. There was a stout wooden table at the far end of the spacious vestibule upon which rested a large brass bell. Molly dropped the three bags and hurried across to ring it.

A tall, spare woman of middle years emerged from the passageway and stood behind the table. She was dressed from top to toe in dark blue cotton, a spotless white apron around her middle and a remarkably pretty lace cap on her head.

“Good morning, miss, can I be of assistance? Mrs Turnbull is my name, I am the landlady here.”

“Good morning. My name is Miss Hadley and I’d like a room for tonight with a separate parlour. I also require a truckle bed for my abigail.”

“I have an apartment which will suit you perfectly. It is at the back of the building and very quiet. Will you be requiring supper in your room?”

“No thank you, Mrs Turnbull, I shall be dining with another of your guests who has already reserved a private parlour.”

Anna felt the blood flood into her cheeks. Good heavens! It must sound as if she had a clandestine assignation and was a young woman of dubious morals. The landlady pursed her lips.

“Very well, Miss Hadley. I shall have hot water sent to your rooms immediately. Shall you be requiring anything else?” Her tone was decidedly frosty

“No thank you. I shall leave my maid to take care of the formalities. Kindly show me to my chamber.” She had been going to request luncheon be sent but had lost her appetite. She waited with as much dignity as she could muster for a boot boy to be summoned to carry the bags and escort her upstairs.

The rooms allocated to her were more than adequate. A parlour adjoined the bedchamber and there was a small anteroom in which the truckle bed for Molly could be set up.

“Put the bags in the bedchamber, if you please.” The boy did as she bid, tugged his forelock and vanished.

Molly puffed in behind her. “My, this is far better than I expected. It’s clean and the sheets freshly starched. Nothing to complain of here.”

The hot water arrived and whilst Molly put out the recently altered gown Anna stripped of the hated brown dress. With the grime of the journey rinsed from her person she was refreshed and a little calmer. “I have yet to cancel our seats on the stage for tomorrow, I thought it better to wait until…well…to wait until later.”

“Shall I put your hair up in a more becoming style, miss? We can’t do anything about the colour but with a bit of ribbon I reckon I can make it more pleasing.”

She was tempted to refuse. The last thing she wanted to do was appear an attractive proposition to this young man. After she spoke her vows, whatever her wishes, she would be legally bound to him and he could
demand
his conjugal rights. “No, I think it best I don’t wear my sprigged muslin. I’ll keep it for tomorrow. Either I shall be starting a new life as Lady Shalford and will want to look my best or will be continuing my journey to live with Mrs Cunningham. In either case I don’t want to look like a governess.”

An hour later she was regretting her decision not to send for refreshments. “Molly, can you go down and see if you can find us something to eat? It’s still three hours until I am to go downstairs to dine with Lord Shalford.”

The few moments later there was a sharp knock on the door. Botheration! Molly must have both hands occupied and needed the door opening for her. She uncurled her feet from beneath her, put aside her book and stepped across to open the door. She clutched the wall for support. A startlingly handsome young man stood framed in the doorway.