His Spoilt Lady (7 page)

Linnett was
first dismayed by John’s absence but was now relieved to find him
gone. Embarrassed by the treatment he had meted out to her in the
coach the previous evening, she felt relieved not to have to face
him again so soon. She reasoned that with him out of the way, she
could persuade her father to let her remain in England while John
returned to America.

Now that she
was feeling calmer, Linnett started to face the fact that in the
society in which they lived, where the slightest hint of scandal
ruined a young girl’s reputation, she had no choice really but to
accept John’s proposal of marriage. Of the marriage bed, well,
whenever her thoughts drifted to that terrifying and most
embarrassing subject, Linnett remembered the kiss on the balcony,
her confusion would grow, and she would begin to feel quite
strange. She decided to dwell no further on the matter.

The days passed
quickly in a whirl of activity, Linnett settled down, and she began
to enjoy all the fuss and attention. Her mother’s wedding dress was
brought down from the attic; it had been carefully wrapped and
preserved in camphor and linen. The heavy satin garment that had
once been white was now aged to a golden cream. It had a low,
rounded neckline and three ruffles edged with tiny seed pearls. The
sleeves were long, but just below the elbow flowed layer upon layer
of lace, sewn with the same tiny pearls. The skirt of the dress was
flounced around the edges and each flounce decorated with an
embroidered rose, which was embellished again with the pearls. The
style was not of today’s fashion, but for once, Linnett did not
care about that. This was her beloved mother’s wedding gown, and
she was thrilled with it. After all, it was still a strikingly
beautiful dress of quality and richness, and she loved it.

Linnett had put
forward her post-marriage plan to her father, and rather
surprisingly, he had listened to her. Sir Thomas even seemed to
agree with her plans. He told her that contrary to what she
thought, John was a very reasonable and kindly young man, who would
no doubt consider what she had suggested very seriously. Since this
conversation, Linnett had convinced herself that the problem was as
good as solved, her troublesome husband would be gone and she would
be staying on at Lavenstock Hall after her marriage, free to
continue the life that she loved.

The day of her wedding dawned cloudy and dull. So much
for good omens, Linnett thought, upon rising and gazing out of her
bedroom window at the depressingly grey weather. She had
breakfasted in bed and then bathed in the copper tub. Lottie had
put her hair up, and it was parted in the middle and back with
ringlets hanging either side of her face, a few wispy tendrils of
hair framed her face. She planned to wear her mother’s pearl
earrings but no other jewellery.

Linnett turned
away from the window and slipped her feet into her soft satin
slippers. Standing quietly in her shift, she waited for Lottie to
help her into her wedding dress. Amazingly, Linnett felt calm and
quite dreamy. Lottie and Hattie lifted the layers of foamy
petticoats over Linnett’s head and smoothed them down. Then,
carefully and gently, they put the precious wedding gown onto
Linnett while she stood patiently allowing Lottie to fasten all the
tiny satin-covered buttons up at the back of the dress. “There! All
done, miss. Aaah, miss, you look just like a princess from a fairy
tale, you do!” Lottie turned Linnett so that she could see herself
in the looking glass.

Linnett gazed
at her reflection, pleased that she did actually look quite regal a
princess indeed. She swished to and fro in front of the mirror, the
voluminous dress and petticoats rustling pleasingly as she
moved.

“My roses
please, Lottie.”

Handing Linnett
her bouquet of the palest pink and cream roses, bound up in creamy
satin ribbon to match her dress, Lottie said with tears in her
eyes, “Miss Linnett, may I say that I hope you’ll be very
happy.”

“Why, thank
you, Lottie.”

Linnett leaned
forward and kissed her little maid’s warm, pink cheek. Lottie took
out a handkerchief and blew hard. Linnett patted her shoulder and,
taking a deep breath, turned and walked to the door.

Sir Thomas
Wainwright was pacing about downstairs. Wandering from his study
into the hall and back again, he happened to be in the hall as
Linnett descended the stairs. Hearing a faint rustling of skirts,
he glanced up the staircase, and his breath caught in his throat as
he watched his beautiful, beloved daughter slowly make her way down
the curved stairway. She looked for a moment just as his dear
Arabella had on their wedding day those many years ago.

He wiped a tear
from his eye and blew his nose loudly. How could he bear to part
with his enchanting daughter, his little green-eyed puss? The last
link, it seemed, with his darling Arabella. He had put forward
Linnett’s suggestion that she remain with him while John returned
to the colonies. John had kindly but firmly refused to consider the
idea. Truth be told, Sir Thomas would not have respected John had
he agreed to Linnett’s plan. A man should have his wife beside him,
why else take a wife? However, he knew he would miss Linnett’s
presence dreadfully, but at least he felt assured that she would be
cared for when his time came.

Linnett stepped
down from the last stair and stood in front of her father. He
placed his hands on her shoulders and held her at arm’s length,
studying her, and he smiled down at her and nodded. He then took
her into his arms and gently rocked her.

“Papa?” Linnett
queried.

“My dearest
child, a child no longer, you looked so like your dear mother
coming down those stairs. You look beautiful, puss. You will make
John a good wife, I know. He is my own choice of husband for you
and I am sure he will make you happy dearest, so do be kind to him,
and he will be kind to you. Now, come along, t’wouldn’t do to be
late for your own wedding!” He kissed her forehead and drew her
towards the entrance.

Outside, an
open-topped carriage awaited, festooned with cream and pale pink
ribbons. The air was still damp from the earlier rain, and droplets
of water sparkled in the weak sunlight. Linnett climbed up into the
carriage in a daze. She gazed about her, suddenly acutely aware of
the minutest detail, the way the hairs on her father’s wrist stood
up, curling at the cuff of his sleeve as he placed his hand on the
carriage door, the rainbow of colours in each tiny droplet of
moisture standing out on the surface of the carriage and the
criss-cross hairline scratches on the leather seats inside the
coach.

In next to no
time, they had arrived at the chapel in the estate grounds. The
little church seemed packed with people, but in actual fact, there
were only around fifty or so people gathered inside. The chapel was
rarely as full as this; usually only the estate workers and house
staff joined the family for services on a Sunday. Today, most of
those people were there plus some other local folk such as the
doctor, who had seen Linnett through all her childhood ailments,
and her old governess Miss Spires, now retired and living with her
sister in Portsmouth. Of course Charles and his mother came,
together with Nancy, who was accompanied by her parents. A brace of
Sir Thomas’s business friends had also been invited. On John’s
side, only a captain from one of his ships and his wife were there.
John’s lawyer stood as his best man.

Linnett seemed
to float down the aisle in a dream-like state. Dust motes hung
suspended in the stream of refracted light from the chapel’s
coloured windows. Thick candles sputtered softly, adding to the
ethereal quality of the occasion. As Linnett glided slowly past the
guests, they turned and sighed, smiling at one another. It seemed
to Linnett that she walked through a whispering sea of swaying
corn.

At last, she
stood before the altar, and she turned to look at the man she was
to marry, studying him frankly. He was a tall man with the healthy
tanned complexion of one who spends much of his time out of doors.
His dark brown hair was tied back with a black velvet ribbon. His
lips were well defined, his chin square and firm, in all a rather
severe face. Finally, she raised her eyes to meet his compelling
gaze, thick dark lashes that surrounded pewter grey eyes unusual in
their intensity. Linnett found it hard to maintain eye contact with
him and blushed. John nodded graciously to his bride, a small smile
tugging at the corner of his mouth as he witnessed the heat
suffusing Linnett’s face.

Linnett had not
seen him since he had spanked her inside the coach, but there was
no sign of the hoyden today as she stood quietly by his side. He
was entranced by her fey beauty as he watched her study him from
under her lashes. Linnett looked like a golden angel; how could
this ravishingly creature be so stubborn and wilful? The service
flowed smoothly, and finally, they emerged from the chapel into a
watery sunlight as Mr. and Mrs. John Foster.

Suddenly, it
seemed to Linnett that everyone was shouting, the noise bursting in
on her as she emerged from her dream world with a jolt. The voices
suddenly seemed extraordinarily loud. Overwhelmed by their good
wishes, Linnett was jostled and kissed and turned this way and
that. Finally, she could cope with no more and was very near to
tears. Her elbow was grasped firmly, and she was led forward to the
waiting carriage. John guided his new wife up the carriage step.
“Are you unwell?” he inquired quietly.

“What?” Linnett
asked faintly before realizing what he’d said. “No...I don’t
know...I… I feel so strange!”

She swayed
slightly as she spoke, and John immediately swept an arm under her,
lifting her up against his chest. He cradled her in his arms and he
studied her pale, upturned face with a frown of concern.
Instinctively, Linnett slipped her arms around his neck. A slight
smile softened John’s mouth as he whispered into her ear, “Mrs
Foster you are a very beautiful woman.”

Lowering his
head, he kissed her gently on her mouth, moving his lips over hers
in a soft caress. Shyly, Linnett returned the kiss, and she could
feel herself blushing again. John lifted his head and gazed into
those intriguing eyes, wondering what her thoughts were.

The crowd of
guests witnessing this romantic moment began to clap and cheer.
John grinned at them, stepped up into the carriage and placed
Linnett on the seat before sitting opposite her. On their arrival
at the Hall, they were met by a footman who handed them up a glass
of mead each, an old tradition in this area of Devonshire. Linnett
began to feel much better after the mead had warmed her stomach and
lightened her spirits. The party feasted well on cold salmon,
followed by roast meats of venison, duckling and beef. Jellies and
sweet meats, fruit pies and thick clotted cream followed. Linnett
and John sat at opposite ends of the table. They stole sly looks at
one another, each when they thought that the other wasn’t watching.
John thought her the most desirable and beautiful bride ever, but
Linnett nervously observed John’s brooding dark looks and
masculinity.

After the meal,
there was dancing outside in one of the barns, mainly for the
servants and farm workers. But a few guests joined in, attracted by
the jaunty music; a wedding was always a great leveller of
people.

As Linnett
stood talking to Jackson, her father’s bailiff, Lord Charles and
Nancy approached.

“Linnett, you
look breathtaking!” Charles exclaimed.

“Why, thank
you, Charles. Regretting letting me go now are you?” Linnett teased
as she bent forward, accepting his kiss before turning to Nancy and
embracing her. Nancy, upon receiving her kiss, gave Linnett a
little hug. “You shall be nearly the first to know, outside of the
families of course, that Charles and I are to be engaged next
week!” Nancy beamed.

“Yes, we are to
become engaged, Linnett. We shall shortly be joining you and John
as happily married people!”

Charles sounded
exuberant and Linnett could see he was relieved at the way things
had resolved themselves.

“I am very
pleased for you both. When do you expect the wedding to be?” she
asked politely.

“Not until
sometime next summer I should think.” Nancy answered for the both
of them. “I have to prepare my trousseau, and there is so much to
do!”

Sir Thomas
walked over and stood behind them, listening quietly and placing
his hands one on each of their shoulders. “I couldn’t help
overhearing; congratulations to you both. About time you two tied
the knot, eh! eh!”

He clapped
Charles on the shoulder and turned to Linnett. “Can I have a quiet
word, my child? Please excuse us?”

He bowed
graciously to Nancy and Charles and escorted Linnett out into the
hall. “Lottie awaits you up in your chamber, my dear. She has had
the rose guest room prepared for you both tonight.”

Somewhat
embarrassed, Sir Thomas kissed his daughter’s forehead and pushed
her gently towards the stairs. “I shall bid you good night then,
darling girl,” he said and then turned, hurrying back to his
guests, most of whom would shortly be leaving now that the bride
had retired.

Linnett
reluctantly made her way up to the rose bedroom, so named for the
rose-patterned wall paper and deep pink bed hangings. A little
while later, Linnett lay stiffly between starched linen sheets, her
stomach lurching and her heart beating too fast. A fire burned
merrily in the hearth, the flickering light sending out a cheery
orange glow, banishing the strange shadows into the darkened
corners of the room. Linnett, freshly washed and scented by Lottie,
had reluctantly climbed into the enormous bed.

Linnett wore a
diaphanous nightgown of white silk, which kept sliding from her
shoulders. It was newly made by Lottie as her wedding gift to
Linnett. The material was of finest silk and, in the candle light,
quite revealingly transparent. Lottie had sewn lace ruffles at the
cuffs and neck. She was a good needlewoman, and although she had
not had very much time to make the nightgown, she had made an
excellent job of it.