by Laura Martin
She looked at him for a moment, then shook her head. ‘Not many viable ones.’
‘You could join your sister in India, or marry and have a family of your own.’
‘India is Beth’s adventure.’
‘And marriage?’ He knew he was pushing too hard, but he wanted to see her reaction.
‘I know no gentlemen, Mr Ashburton. I’m a recluse with no prospects. I hardly think anyone is going to step forward and offer for my hand at this stage.’ It was said without bitterness, just the gentle acceptance of someone who had resigned themselves to their fate a long time ago.
‘But if someone were to offer, would you want it?’
With narrowed eyes she slowly nodded her head. ‘Of course, but why torture myself with the impossible?’
Leo sat back in his chair and steepled his fingers together, his mind racing. Many years ago when Annabelle’s father was alive, the old Earl had done something for Leo he would never forget. In thanks Leo had agreed to marry his elder daughter, Lady Elizabeth, when she was of an appropriate age. Six months ago they had both half-heartedly started courting, but neither had truly wanted the match. Lady Elizabeth had promptly fallen for his brother and now they were on their way to India together as man and wife. Leo was happy for his brother, but it had meant he wasn’t able to fulfil his promise to the old Earl and he didn’t like not keeping his word.
He looked at Lady Annabelle. She was quiet, well-bred and, apart from climbing out of first-floor windows, didn’t seem to have any overtly annoying habits. Her scars had kept her cloistered inside for most of her life, but he didn’t need a wife to show off to society, he just needed a wife to keep Lord Abbingdon happy and the money from the inheritance coming his way. In addition, Lady Annabelle was unlikely to refuse. The alternative was spending the rest of her days running after her objectionable mother in this small cottage.
If he asked Lady Annabelle to marry him, he would gain the wife he needed and fulfil his promise to her father.
‘I wonder, Lady Annabelle—’ he said, but cut himself off as Lady Hummingford sailed back into the room.
‘My apologies, Mr Ashburton, the hired help don’t seem to grasp the meaning of valuable.’
‘Not at all. I was just going to ask Lady Annabelle for a tour of the garden before I leave.’ He turned to the younger woman. ‘Would you oblige?’
Her eyes narrowed and he knew she was aware something else was afoot here, but she couldn’t quite work out what.
‘Of course, Mr Ashburton.’
He offered her his arm and they strolled from the room and back out of the open front door, having to stand to one side to allow two men struggling with a heavy piano past.
‘What are we doing, Mr Ashburton?’ Lady Annabelle turned to him once they were out of earshot of the house in a pretty little garden filled with flowers.
‘It is a beautiful day—’
She shook her head to cut him off. ‘I don’t believe you are that eager to see the garden here at Sea Spray Cottage.’
‘I have a proposition for you,’ he said, trying to soften his tone. It wouldn’t do to bark the marriage proposal at her, he wanted her to consider it properly at least. ‘And I wanted to discuss it out of earshot of your mother so the decision you make is yours and yours alone.’
Gesturing to the little wrought-iron bench at one end of the garden, he followed her over and waited until they were seated comfortably before beginning again. He was sat to her right and she had turned her head so he couldn’t see the scars on her left cheek. Lady Annabelle was very proficient at hiding herself.
‘Do you know a little of my circumstance?’ he said, thinking that if they were to unite it would not be an emotional attachment, so best to discuss this like a business arrangement. ‘Did your sister mention to you why I was considering marriage?’
‘I know you felt you owed our father a debt of gratitude,’ Lady Annabelle said slowly, a slight frown on her face, ‘But Beth did not tell me anything more than that.’
‘I did owe your father a debt of gratitude and when I asked him how I could repay it he suggested I marry Lady Elizabeth when she was of age. Of course, that didn’t quite work out.’
‘Father wouldn’t have begrudged Beth her happiness, even if you had the better prospects.’
He suppressed a smile as he glanced up, knowing she was adding on paper silently. Josh might not be in line to inherit a title and the vast estates that went with it, but he was going back to run his own shipping and transport company in India, and Leo didn’t doubt he would make his fortune within the decade.
‘That is indeed part of the reason I approached your sister, but I also have another rather pressing reason to want to find a wife. I’m sure you’re aware that Lord Abbingdon is no longer a young man and has myriad health issues. When he passes away I will become the next Viscount and I will inherit a fair amount of land.’ He paused, wondering if she was aware of where this was leading. Lady Annabelle looked mildly interested, but as though what he was saying couldn’t have anything to do with her. ‘The estates, of course, require a substantial amount of money to run and Lord Abbingdon has made it a stipulation of his will that I only inherit the money along with the land if I am married.’
‘How strange.’
‘He is adamant he doesn’t want the estate passing into the hands of increasingly distant, and in his mind inferior, relatives. He thinks if I am married I will produce an heir and secure the family name.’
‘I can see why you pushed ahead with courting Beth when you did,’ Lady Annabelle said quietly.
‘Lord Abbingdon is very sick, his doctors do not expect him to live more than a month or two, so my need to get married is even more pressing than ever.’
Lady Annabelle nodded politely, but he could see she had no idea he was about to propose to her. It was as if she had labelled herself as unmarriageable a long time ago and couldn’t see past that perception.
‘I have never felt the desire to marry for love or companionship,’ he said, feeling the lie fall thickly from his tongue. Lady Annabelle didn’t need to know anything about his past, it was all long buried along with his heart. ‘I am looking for a match that is mutually beneficial. I would offer a comfortable lifestyle, the chance to be mistress of a grand house and no expectation to have to mingle with society.’ He paused, watching the young woman next to him closely. ‘What do you think?’
‘I’m sure there are many young women who would be delighted to accept your proposal.’
‘Yes, but I’m not asking them. I’m asking you.’
‘Me?’ Lady Annabelle almost fell off the bench as she backed away so quickly with surprise. ‘You shouldn’t jest about these things, Mr Ashburton.’ She stood, two spots of colour rising on her cheeks and just the very first glint of tears in her eyes.
‘I do not jest. Ever. Sit down, Lady Annabelle, if you would.’
She hesitated, looking over her shoulder wistfully at the cottage behind her, but something about his proposition must have intrigued her enough to stay.
‘I need a wife for all the reasons outlined. You have as much as told me your prospects are poor, there is no suitor waiting for your hand. If you decline my proposal, you will likely spend the rest of your youth looking after your mother.’
Lady Annabelle grimaced and he knew he’d touched on her main reason to want to get away.
‘We barely know one another.’
‘We don’t need to. We don’t even need to live in the same house if we don’t want to.’
‘A marriage on paper only?’
‘Not exactly. But think of it as a business arrangement from which we both benefit.’
Her eyes flitted around the garden and he could see her mind was racing.
‘And children?’ she asked eventually, homing in on the one area he had hoped she might not ask abou
t. ‘You said yourself you will need an heir.’
‘My brother will be my heir. I’m sure he and Lady Elizabeth will have plenty of children.’ It would be wrong to allow her to think there would be children. He had resigned himself long ago to a single life. He was willing to take on a wife, in name if not into his life properly, but he did not want the emotional attachment children would bring.
‘I don’t know what to say, Mr Ashburton.’
‘Don’t say anything. Not now. Take a day to think about it. I will need an answer by tomorrow afternoon. I shall stay at the Three Boars tonight and call on you tomorrow. Consider your options and I expect an answer before I leave for Kent.’
He stood, bowed over her hand formally, then took his leave, wondering if this detachment was how you were meant to feel after proposing to a woman.
Chapter Three
Dear Beth,
You will never believe what happened yesterday. I am almost certain I must have imagined it. And yet...
Annabelle paced around the garden, walking so quickly that every so often her skirt would catch on one of the plants that spilled in a riot of colour from the flowerbeds. Her mind was in turmoil, her stomach churning, and every time she thought she had come to a decision about Mr Ashburton’s proposal she found some reason to doubt herself.
‘What are you doing, Annabelle? You’re wearing a track in the grass you’ve stomped the same path so many times.’ Lady Hummingford emerged from the back door of the cottage with a frown on her face. She had been in a foul mood all day, slamming cupboards and letting out dramatic huffs and sighs. Annabelle had spent the morning trying to keep out of her way, but her mother always seemed to find her.
‘Just enjoying the sunshine, Mother.’ She hadn’t confided in her mother about Mr Ashburton’s proposal. She knew her mother would push her towards the union, thinking of the money, thinking her new son-in-law could move her out of this tiny cottage to accommodation more suiting a woman of her status. Annabelle wanted to make her decision without the interference of her mother.
‘This situation is untenable,’ Lady Hummingford declared, sighing dramatically as she perched on the edge of the little bench at one end of the garden. ‘The house is tiny, the maid is useless and I dare not show my face in company ever again.’
For a moment Annabelle felt a swell of compassion for her mother. She had been raised to be the wife of a man of status, to have his children and run his household. Lady Hummingford had done her part over the years and now she should be sitting back and watching her daughters live their own lives while she became one of the matriarchs of society. Instead she had lost her husband, her home and her status.
‘I know it is a lot to adjust to, Mother, but we need to give it a chance. Perhaps in a few months things won’t seem so bad.’
‘For you. This suits you perfectly well, hiding away in a cottage far from civilisation, not having to socialise with anyone, but for a normal person it is hell.’
The criticism only stung a little. Annabelle had become used to her mother’s harsh and insulting words over the years and had found it easier to filter out the horrible parts than to get upset every time.
‘I’m sure you’ll still receive invitations to socialise.’
Her mother scoffed. ‘Of course, I will. People love to revel in others’ misfortune.’
In a flash Annabelle saw what her life would be like if she stayed here with her mother, year after year stretching out, listening to her mother’s complaints, hearing why their life wasn’t good enough. A marriage to Mr Ashburton might not be for reasons of love, but she would get to be mistress of her own house. It sounded as though he didn’t really want a wife, aside from allowing him to fulfil the terms of Lord Abbingdon’s will, but that suited her. She would get to live a life of quiet independence, away from her mother and barely bothered by Mr Ashburton.
The last of the doubts nagged at her. The most persistent of the lot was the thought that if she married Mr Ashburton she would never know the love of a husband. With a sense of determination she pushed the doubt aside. She had never planned to marry, even if she had dreamed of being swept off her feet when she was a young and foolish girl, and never went out long enough to meet anyone. This was the perfect solution, even if the idea of being married to the serious and sober Mr Ashburton made her stomach clench with anxiety. She reminded herself of the kindness he had shown her when they had first met at Birling View a few months earlier. He’d been there, half-heartedly courting Beth at the time, and had caught Annabelle creeping round after dark and, even though it was a strange thing to be doing in her own home, he had not drawn attention to it, seeming to instinctively understand her desire for privacy wasn’t something easily explained.
‘Lady Hummingford, Lady Annabelle, I trust your first night in your new home was comfortable.’
Mr Ashburton came walking through the garden gate, his bearing as upright as ever and his manner clipped and to the point. He acknowledged Annabelle with a formal nod, with no hint that he’d proposed to her the day before. There was no intimacy, no connection, and Annabelle felt the certainty in her decision draining away.
‘It was not the level of comfort I am used to, but I slept adequately, thank you,’ Lady Hummingford said, smoothing her dress down on her knees.
‘And you, Lady Annabelle?’ He turned his dark brown eyes on her and regarded her seriously, making Annabelle want to squirm away from his gaze. She hadn’t known he was coming so early, hadn’t had time to don her veil and conceal her scars. Still, Mr Ashburton didn’t seem overly affected by her scars—in fact, if they weren’t so obvious for everyone to see she would have sworn he hardly noticed them at all. She grimaced. It was a sign of how little he actually saw when he looked at her. And this was the man she was planning to marry.
‘I slept well, thank you,’ she lied. She hadn’t slept more than a few hours, tossing and turning in an unfamiliar room, feeling completely alone without the comforting presence of her sister in the bed next to her.
‘Good. Would you care to take a stroll along the promenade, Lady Annabelle? We can leave your mother to rest after her disturbed night.’
Silently Annabelle nodded, knowing words would stick in her throat if she tried to speak.
The nerves were twofold. First, she felt anxious about giving Mr Ashburton her answer when she wasn’t at all sure she was making the right decision. Second, she felt nervous about going out, walking along the seafront, everyone’s eyes upon her. Until recently she hadn’t left the estate of Birling View for years, and although in the past few months she’d taken a few trips out, encouraged by her sister, it still felt strange to be walking among others.
‘Take your bonnet, Annabelle. People will stare less,’ her mother said harshly.
With her hands shaking she rushed inside to pick up her bonnet, making sure she chose one with a veil attached.
Mr Ashburton didn’t comment on the face covering when she emerged, but she could see his eyes raking over it, taking in her insecurities.
The cottage was situated on the very outskirts of Eastbourne and to access the promenade they first had to walk down the narrow coastal path from the cottage to the sea. The sun was bright and the day hot, but there was a light sea breeze that whipped at their clothes and provided much-needed relief from the warmth.
‘It must be hot under there,’ Mr Ashburton said as they strolled stiffly side by side.
‘I’m used to it.’ She hadn’t often worn a veil when secluded in the safety of the estate, but over the last few months she had grown used to the thin material covering her face.
‘You don’t have to wear it.’
‘People stare,’ she said quietly.
‘Does it matter?’
She glanced up at him and wondered what it would be like to be as self-confident and sure of himself as Mr Ashburton. He was the sort of man who neve
r doubted himself, never cared what others thought of him. He wouldn’t hide behind a veil because of his appearance. Of course he didn’t need to. Mr Ashburton was an attractive man with a strong jaw, thick dark hair and dark eyes that fooled you into thinking he might care. Annabelle had no doubt he had women falling over themselves to dance with him at the balls he must attend in London, or to sit next to him at the fancy dinner parties. Surely one of them would be a better choice than her.
‘Can I ask you a question, Mr Ashburton?’
He inclined his head, then looked across at her expectantly. They were walking side by side, but not touching. Annabelle hadn’t felt confident enough to take his arm as she knew was the custom when a woman walked next to a man.
‘Why did you ask me to marry you?’
‘For the reasons I explained yesterday.’
‘I know you need a wife urgently, too, and I understand you do not feel the need to wait for a woman you have romantic feelings for, but there must be a hundred debutantes in London clamouring for your attention. Why would you choose me over them?’
‘I will not do you the discourtesy of answering with meaningless platitudes or pretending we have a connection that is not there. I made a promise to your father to marry his daughter and I take my promises very seriously.’
Annabelle nodded, feeling strangely hollow. She had hoped he might say he saw something in her he admired. Even if it were just her ability to run a household or her sensible manner. This was so impersonal.
‘There is another reason,’ he said slowly as if not sure whether to go on. ‘I am aware that the debutantes husband hunting in London have a certain expectation of married life. They are more likely to be dissatisfied with the arrangement I am offering you. They would want a more...conventional marriage. To socialise together, share a life together, have a family.’
Annabelle felt as though she had been punched in her stomach. She couldn’t blame the man walking so calmly next to her—in fact, she should thank him for being so honest. He wasn’t trying to deceive her into marrying him, just the opposite, he was making sure she was aware of exactly what she would be getting herself into. It just made her feel nauseous to think he had chosen her because she had such low expectations from life. Nauseous and sad.
