The Convenient Bride (9 page)

Lucy dashed up the stairs, half afraid of finding Charles dying, for he wasn’t usually prone to melodrama and to request her presence ‘immediately’ over an ‘urgent’ matter was very odd. She found the suite number on the third floor and as she headed towards the door, she could see that it was aja
r and dread slowed her movement to a slow walk.

What if he was dying? He was the closes
t thing she had to a father now; could she stand to lose him too? How much loss could one heart bear in a lifetime?

She paused before the
open door and raised a hand to knock on the door frame before entering, but a voice stilled her movements.

“I’m married now, my darling and as much as it pains me to be parted from you, I have responsibilities as a husband.”

That was Max.

“And what about your responsibility to me? It’s me you love, remember?”

That awful French accent again. Even though she couldn’t smell it from here, Lucy could almost feel her nose itch from her overpowering perfume.

She heard Max sigh. “Honestly, Marie-“

“Carry on!” her tone brooked no argument, very different from the upset and emotional tone she had been using up until now.

“Very well.” Max gave a long suffering sigh again.
“Needs must, my dear. She has money, position and a faultless reputation. As much as I love you, we would both be shunned had I chosen you for my bride.”

“You speak of love but you know nothing of it! Don’t you know how much it hurts me when you return to her? How awful I feel, knowing that you are sharing her bed, trying to produce heirs with her? What about our children? Why are they condemned to be bastards
, when the children of a woman you don’t even love, get everything?”

Lucy couldn’t help the
soft gasp that escaped her lips. Max already had children? How hadn’t she known that? She most certainly would
not
have married him if she had known that.

Suddenly his betrayal wasn’t just that he had kept his mistress after their wedding, he had been hiding parts of himself from her. She had thought them best friends but he hadn’t
told her something as important as having children.

“You know that even if I married you, our children wouldn’t become legitimate.”

Lucy turned from the door and fled, suddenly as desperate to escape as she had been to get here. She felt as if her life had suddenly been turned upside down and she didn’t know what was real any more. If she couldn’t trust Max, who could she trust?

Her eyes began to fill with tears that blinded her and in her haste to escape, she tripped on the final flight of stairs, la
nding in a tangled heap at the bottom.

“My God!” She heard a man exclai
m as he rushed over to her. “Lie still,” he urged.

She tried to push him away; she didn’t want help, she just wanted to get away.
“Someone call for a doctor!” he yelled.

“No, I'm fine, just let me go,”

“You aren’t fine, please, let me call a doctor.”

“No, I have to get home, I must.
Let me go!”

“Very well, as long as you allow me to accompany you.”

He allowed her to sit up now and handed her a handkerchief, which she used to wipe her eyes. She didn’t want this man to go home with her, she just wanted to be alone, all alone but if it would get her home faster, she would accept his assistance.

She allowed him to help her to her feet and thankfully, her carriage was still waiting outside. They climbed in, although the driver gave them both some odd looks.

“She had a bad fall,” the man told the driver. “I just want to make sure that she gets home all right.”

The driver nodded, accepting that explanation.

“Please hurry,” Lucy urged. She had managed to stem her tears for now but she wasn’t sure for how much longer she could keep her composure.

The man spoke to her during the carriage ride but Lucy didn’t reply, she didn’t even hear what he was saying; there was simply too much else swirling around in her mind at the moment. When they arrived at the house, he helped her down, being very solicitous. Lucy was grateful for the help as she was beginning to feel the bumps and bruises from her fall now, but she would have preferred to have the driver help her.

The gentleman saw her to the door but she was insistent that she was fine now. Finally he seemed to take the hint and after wishing her well and a speedy recovery, he doffed his hat and bid her farewell.

Lucy went inside
and headed straight up to her room, ignoring the staff she passed on the way. She made it to the landing, when a crippling pain in the left side of her abdomen made her cry out and double over in pain.

The head chambermaid and her
lady’s maid were at her side immediately and helped her the rest of the way to her room.

Lucy cou
ldn’t help it; she began to cry almost hysterically.

The maids undressed her
because her skirt was torn and although they tried to hide it from her, she saw the small red stain on her chemise, confirming her worst fears.

The chambermaid poked her head out of the door and in a hurried whisper, asked someone
who was in the hallway to fetch a doctor.

Max threw
down the pages he held. “I’m sorry, Marie, but that’s enough. This is the worst play I have ever read and if it ever does get produced, you would do well to avoid being associated with it.”

“But Max-“

“No. The whole first act is just a man arguing with his mistress. It’s banal, juvenile and overly melodramatic. I know I said I would help you with your dreams to become an actress but I will not finance this drivel.”

Marie bit her lip, wondering who might have heard his speech. “Please, darling, just finish the read through with me.”

“No!” He tried to release some of his frustration and took a deep breath, letting out a long sigh.

It had been a while ago
that Marie had expressed a desire to act. At the time he had assured her that if that was her dream, he would do what he could to help her but she had never mentioned it again. On Tuesday at his club though, she had been insistent that he help her, reminding him of his promise. He had given her his word so although he would prefer to stay home with Lucy, he agreed to meet her at her rooms.

To be frank, she had been making something of a nuisance of herself at the club recently, constantly trying to entice him into bed, and it was
becoming tiresome. He could have reported her behaviour and she would have been banned from the premises, but he was well aware that her only source of income was from the gentlemen she met and serviced from the club, and he didn’t dislike her enough to see her destitute.

He had arrived about an hour ago, just as a messenger was leaving
her rooms, and she had told him that she had a simply marvellous play that she wanted him to finance. Although he had been reticent, she and his guilt had talked him into agreeing to the read through that she wanted, but it had quickly become evident that this was nothing more than the self-indulgent ramblings of a novice writer (and that was being kind).

She looked so upset that he had stopped however
, and he began to feel bad.

“Max, please, just read a little more, we-”

She was interrupted by a knock at the door, which Max was surprised to notice was slightly open. Marie went to answer it and the doorman was there with a message. She opened it, read it then slipped it into her pocket.

“Very well, Max, I know how stubborn you can be when you set your mind to something.”

Max wondered at her change in attitude but before he could contemplate it too much, she was sitting on his lap.

“How about if we forget the play for now and enjoy the pleasures that we used to.”

Max removed her arms from around his neck. “Marie, how many times do I have to tell you, I’m not interested in that any longer.”

“Until I believe it!” she snapped. “You couldn’t keep your hands off me two months ago and now, suddenly, I am unattractive.”

“You’re very attractive, Marie, and you know it, but I am a married man now and I love my wife.”

Suddenly it struck him how similar his words were to the play he had been reading.

Marie turned her back to him. “Fine, then go!” she snapped.

Max hated to fight with her
; after all, she had been a huge relief to him before his marriage and it wasn’t her fault that his feelings for her had been eclipsed. Still, he wasn’t doing much good here and if he stayed, they would surely continue arguing. He got up and collected his coat and hat as he headed to the door, folding the play into his pocket, although he paused before leaving.

“I will t
alk to a few friends of mine in the theatre,” he assured her. “I’m sure we can find you a decent production to-”

“Don’t bother,”
she cut him off and so with a heavy heart, Max left.

He didn’t know what to do about Marie; she was becoming a nuisance but he did feel a responsibility for her. He still gave her money, even though he no longer enjoyed her pleasures, but she did her
damndest to try and tempt him, and then make him feel bad when he refused.

He had taken a hansom
cab here but needing some time to ponder what to do about Marie, he decided to walk at least part of the way home.

The easiest thing would be if she fell for someone else’s charms. Although she slept with
a lot of men, he was her favourite, as she’d told him many times. She had even once told him that she loved him but knowing that he couldn’t answer truthfully without hurting her, he had decided not to reply.

She had to know that he didn’t feel that way about her and even if he did, he could never be with a person like her. Not only was she a fallen woman, she was a liar. He knew that she wasn’t French, and he sometimes even detected a trace of a West Country accent. She was probably a miner’s daughter
or similar, who had come to the city with dreams of marrying well, or perhaps acting and who had quickly had those dreams dashed.

Despite her words, he decided to see if he could find her an acting job. She could probably be good with a little training, she did do a wonderful impression of a French woman and perhaps
if he could make that dream come true for her, she wouldn’t pester him so often. Plus, she was pretty enough that she would quickly develop a following of devoted men, one of whom, he hoped, might eclipse Max in her affections.

He was so distracted by his thoughts, that he didn’t immediately notice the two carriages outside his house. He wasn’t worried though
, until he went inside and noticed the grave expression on the staffs’ faces.

“What's wrong?” he asked the footman, who was acting as butler until they returned to the country.

Before the other man could answer, he saw his family’s doctor coming down the stairs, looking grave. Max stepped towards him.

“What’s going on?” he demanded.

The doctor headed towards him, also looking solemn.

“I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but your wife has
lost the child she was carrying.”

“Is she all right?”

“Physically, she will recover but she was understandably overwrought when I arrived. I have given her something to calm her nerves and left her a sleeping draught. She needs rest, and a lot of it for at least a few days.”

“Why did this happen?”

“She said she had a fall and I believe that precipitated this tragedy.”

“Can I see her?”

“Of course, although I would warn you about overtaxing her. No one knew where you were, so the staff sent for your mother; she’s sitting with her at the moment.”

“Thank you, Dr Hardy.”

Max dashed up the stairs and burst into Lucy’s room without knocking.

“My darling, are you all right?”

Lucy didn’t respond but his mother, who had been sitting by the bedside, got up and headed towards the door, touching Max’s arm as she passed and offering him a sympathetic smile. Max quickly took the seat that she had vacated.

Lucy was curled up on her side in the foetal position, he
r hands tucked under the covers and only her head showing. Her gaze was unfocused, probably because of what the doctor had given her to help her relax.

“How are you?” he asked.

She slowly focused on him and her eyes filled with tears, which trickled from her beautiful, ice blue eyes onto her pillow.

He was about to reach out and try to find a hand to hold
amongst the sheets, when she turned over onto her other side, putting her back to him.

Max ran a hand over his face, feeling like a fool for having gone to see Marie this morning. He should have been here when she needed him. Her need was surely greater than Marie’s, after all.

“Lucy, I…” he didn’t know what to say to make her feel better. “We can try again.”