by Josie Bonham
Max moved over to the fire and relaxed into his favourite chair. Eliza would know what to do about the girl. He ought to marry her. With that sort of gossip about her, she would be ruined if her name came out. She was a taking little thing but there was probably an irate father somewhere. Had she been abandoned by a clandestine suitor? She didn’t look old enough but then Sally’s daughter, Cecilia, who had always been his favourite niece, had needed rescuing from that excuse for a soldier at barely seventeen.
Did he want a bride that young? A young bride would give him more chance of an heir though. Lord, what he wouldn’t give for an heir. It would get Selina off his back let alone keeping the Hargreaves estates out of Bertie’s clutches. He jumped up and strode around the bookshelves. This was cold hearted nonsense. Surely there was room for love somewhere? Still he had more chance of that with a filly with the gumption, however misguided, to try and help herself out of her difficulties than the girls his sisters paraded in front of him.
He sighed. He’d always known he would have to do his duty someday but with his thirtieth birthday approaching and Selina’s latest antics there was no hope that his sisters would leave him to find his own bride. Even Eliza had dropped hints. If he’d listened to Eliza he would never have gone to that house party. He hadn’t expected Selina to be so brazen as to try and force him to invite her and Bertie for Christmas, in front of witnesses. He shuddered as he remembered the amusement on the sea of faces in the hall when he walked out of Simon’s breakfast room.
He didn’t mind his friends ragging him, but he did object to family matters being aired in front of some of the biggest gossips in the Ton. The episode would be fine fodder for the scandal sheets, especially after his precipitous departure from the house party. He had to marry sometime and he’d had enough of Selina’s obsession with Bertie’s chance of inheriting the title. After this he would only have to dance twice with a girl for speculation on an engagement to run wild. Perhaps his runaway would be the solution.
He stopped short. The poor little thing deserved better than having him tell her what to do. On the other hand, she would be lucky not to be compromised by this escapade and his duty as a gentleman was clear. Any irate father would be soothed by the prospect of a marquess as a son-in-law. He needed to talk to her as soon as he could.
***
It was dark when Georgie woke up. She sat up in bed and wondered what to do. Someone scratched at the door.
“Come in, Martha.”
The door opened but instead of Martha the Marquess entered. Georgie gasped and pulled the covers up to her chin.
“What are you doing here? I thought you said you meant me no harm.”
He shut the door and advanced towards the bed.
“I don’t mean you any harm but I need to speak to you.” He frowned and raised his voice slightly.
Georgie cried out. “You’re not going to send for the magistrate, are you?”
The Marquess shook his head. “If you must know, I am the magistrate.” He carried a chair over to the side of the bed and sat down. “We have quite a problem.”
He studied her face.
Georgie bit her lip. She shivered at his gaze. “I suppose you want to know how I became stranded in your barn?”
“Yes, that would be helpful.”
Georgie hesitated, he had a right to know but would he want to return her to the Huttons and wash his hands of her? “If I tell you I will be one and twenty on Christmas Eve would you mind if I leave the rest of the explanation until then?”
“As it happens, I would mind very much.”
“I rather thought you might.” Georgie sighed. “You have probably worked out that I am running away from my legal guardian. She was trying to force me to marry her son. When I resisted, she locked me up with nothing more than water.”
“Ah. Was that why you stole what was left of my meal? You were taking quite a risk.”
Georgie nodded. “I’d had nothing to eat for nearly four days, apart from some bread and cheese at one of the inns on the way here.”
She looked up at him. He certainly seemed more awake than he had in the morning. She glanced away quickly, with a flush in her cheeks, at the admiration in his eyes.
“I see. What do you intend to do when you are one and twenty?”
“Collect my inheritance and travel up to Yorkshire to live with my old governess.”
Instead of answering, the Marquess stood up and paced the room. Georgie watched him anxiously. At least he hadn’t immediately insisted on returning her. Her head started to thump with the tension of waiting for his answer. She grunted with frustration and he turned and walked back towards her.
“I have a proposition to make you.”
Georgie’s cheeks became unbearably hot. She started forwards forgetting to hang on to the bedcover. His eyes dropped to her bosom which added to her confusion. He shifted his gaze and sank into the chair beside her.
“No, no, no. I don’t mean what you think I do.”
“What do you mean then?”
“I’m offering you my hand in marriage.”
Georgie’s mouth fell open. “But you don’t even know me. If you’re worried that you have compromised me it was entirely my own fault.” She studied his face. Was he being chivalrous or was it a trick to get her into his bed?
The Marquess laughed, but he didn’t look amused. “I have compromised you and I need to put it right.”
Oh dear, he sounded angry. Did he think this was an elaborate plot to ensnare him? “I am not the sort of minx who sets out to trap a man into marriage. I’ll be quite happy to buy a cottage and live quietly with my governess as companion.”
“I have my own reputation to consider, Madam.” He glared at her. “The truth is there was a witness to my outrageous attempt to kiss you at the Golden Cross. It was completely out of character I assure you. You would oblige me by accepting my offer of marriage, thereby saving your own reputation as well as mine.”
“You would marry a woman you don’t even know simply to keep up appearances?”
His eyes narrowed as he looked at her. “Is there anything about your background that would make you an impossible match for me?”
Georgie looked away. He was considering her as if she was a mare to breed to his best stallion.
He slapped a hand on his thigh and grimaced. “Am I to take your silence to mean you would not be a suitable bride?”
“No, it’s not that.”
His eyes narrowed as he studied her. “Have you been lying to me and there’s a suitor waiting for you somewhere?”
“I’m not in the habit of lying.” Georgie’s voice deepened. “There is no suitor except for the obnoxious cousin I’m running away from!”
The Marquess ran a hand through his hair. “I’m tired of these games. Just tell me who you are.”
“If you must know had I been born a boy I would have the title of Baron now. I’m a suitable, although not brilliant, match for a marquess but I don’t want to marry you or anyone else.”
“Look, I’m not keen on the idea of marrying someone I don’t know either. The fact is I need a wife. I too have some unpleasant relatives and it’s about time I set up my nursery, unless I want Cousin Cuthbert running tame. Will you marry me?”
He sounded exasperated. Hardly the devoted suitor of her dreams. Georgie studied him. She opened her mouth to refuse and then closed it again. Was it such a bad idea? He was tall, with a passably handsome face and an athletic build. He was older than her but not by many years. Besides which he had probably saved her life and he was very keen to find a wife. He seemed quite high in the instep at times so perhaps the housekeeper taking her for his doxy had upset him. She was startled when he laughed.
“Touché. Now you have studied my points what do you say? I should have realised you were an innocent yesterday but I convinced myself that you responded to me when I kissed you. It’s a poor excuse but I would never have kissed you like that had I been sober and not
in an appalling fury about something.” His expression softened. “For my part I find you quite delightful,”
His eyes dropped to her bosom and she remembered the bed covers and drew them up under her chin. He smiled and met her gaze.
She looked away. “I’m surprised you remember anything from yesterday.”
He laughed. “The Lovells have notoriously hard heads, but mine hasn’t been given such a test since my Oxford days. The more I think about it, the better this idea seems. You need a place of safety and I need a wife. Many a marriage has prospered with nothing more than a mutual admiration.”
“You said something about us both being runaways earlier. Was that why you got so foxed yesterday?”
“I see I am going to have to tell you the whole. Cuthbert Lovell is a charming wastrel. His mother, my aunt Lady Selina Lovell, managed to get an invitation to a house party I was at. She set about trying to persuade me into inviting her and Cuthbert here for Christmas. I suspect Cuthbert is in dire need of funds. When she started making remarks in front of other people to try and force my hand that was too much. I made my excuses to my host and left.”
The Marquess jumped to his feet and paced the room. “I was so angry at being put in that position. The truth is, of course, that as my heir I should be taking an interest in Cuthbert but he would run through even the Lovell fortune inside a year or two. My sisters have been urging me to find a wife for years. After this latest start from Madam Lovell they will be determined to push me to the altar.”
“So you’ve decided to pick the first eligible female who comes along?”
“I’m offering you the protection of my hand because I have compromised you as a result of my fit of temper. I am a man of honour. I am pointing out to you the advantages to myself.” He smiled at her.
Georgie shivered. When he smiled passably handsome was definitely an understatement.
“Are you still cold?”
She shook her head.
“There is nothing to be afraid of. I would treat you well. I would also keep you safe. Can you be certain that reaching your majority will be enough to keep you out of your cousin’s clutches?”
“Surely once I have contacted the lawyers after my birthday they will look to my safety?”
“They may act with exemplary care but not all lawyers are honest. What do you know about the ones handling your inheritance?”
“Nothing - but they have been the family lawyers forever as far as I know.”
“Anyone unscrupulous enough to lock you up without food is not likely to give up easily. Can you be sure that these lawyers would resist an offer of payment out of your funds if they helped force you into marriage?”
“Oh, I hadn’t thought of that.”
Georgie’s mind whirred. She had overheard Cousin Mary’s lawyer friend telling her about some awful things he had done with great pride. How safe would she be from someone who happily devised ways to defraud his hapless clients? Her biggest fear was that his team of investigators would find her whereabouts. Perhaps reaching her majority wouldn’t be enough to save her if they did. She knew Cousin Mary to be ruthless after all.
The Marquess took her hand and rubbed her palm with his thumb. “Am I such a bad bargain you would rather take your chance with them?”
Georgie felt a pulse beat in her neck as heat rushed to her cheeks. “It’s not that. It’s all so sudden I don’t know what to think.”
The Marquess smiled at her. “If I add that I have seven sisters and a lively dread of what their matchmaking might entail won’t you take pity on me?”
Georgie gasped. “Seven sisters!”
His smile widened into a grin. “I’m afraid so.”
A marriage without love went against everything her family had taught her. Perhaps love might grow afterwards and she was so tired of being frightened. Only marriage would protect her from Cousin Mary and her schemes. It would be wonderful to feel safe and the Marquess did make her feel safe in a strange way, despite the manner of their first meeting. Georgie took a deep breath. She might regret it but why not?
“Yes. I will marry you.” There she had said it. Her heart skipped a beat. Only time would tell if she was right to trust her instinct that he was a decent man.
“Thank you. I promise I’ll treat you with respect. One of my sisters is expected with her family as soon as the roads are passable. They were due today. We need to get our story straight before she arrives.” He sank onto the seat.
“Why can’t we tell her the truth?”
“It’s complicated.” He paused. “There is more than one version of the story in circulation.”
“Oh. I think I understand what Martha was talking about now.”
“If you mean the version that you are my betrothed and I was waiting to collect you from the coach but missed you because of the delay then yes.” He sighed. “The truth is I would hate my sister to find out how I insulted you.” He looked at the floor but he couldn’t hide the flush staining his cheeks.
“I still think we should tell her everything.” Georgie said softly.
“Perhaps. You haven’t told me your name.” He grinned at her. “Now we are betrothed it might be useful for me to know.”
“I’m Georgina Sherborne. I lived in Benfort with my aunt until she died last spring.”
“If you’ve been living less than five miles away why haven’t we met before?”
“We hardly move in the same circles, do we? Besides, when my aunt died, I was sent to live in London with my Hutton cousins.”
“The ones you ran away from.”
Georgie nodded. Her head was throbbing and she was hungry again. The Marquess sat staring at the floor and she lay back against the pillows. He jerked upright.
“I wonder if you were recognised. The story of an engagement between us wouldn’t seem so fantastical then. Who were your aunt and uncle?”
“Mr and Mrs Weston, my uncle was a clergyman.”
The Marquess ran a hand through his hair. “Eliza might have known your aunt. The Overtons live the other side of Benfort.”
“That wouldn’t be Lady Eliza Overton would it?”
“Yes. She’s my youngest sister.”
Georgie smiled. “I’ve met her two or three times.”
“Ah that makes things a lot simpler.” He grimaced. “You’re right though, we will have to tell Eliza the whole since she knows you. We should be able to brush off any scandal with her help.” He looked relieved.
Georgie stiffened. He seemed a lot more worried about his reputation than hers. Was she doing the right thing?
“You look tired. I’ll send Martha up with a tray. We’ll talk again in the morning.”
He stood up and bowed to her before turning on his heel and marching out.
***
Georgie watched him go. Had she really just agreed to marry him? There was so much she didn’t know about him. Why had he had a meal at the inn when he lived nearby? Although he couldn’t have been expected at home that evening and having met Mrs Powell that was understandable perhaps. There was a knock at the door and Martha entered.
“Miss, did you say yes?” Martha stared at her with eyes too big for her face.
There was no going back now. She smiled at the girl. “Yes, I did.”
Martha carefully laid the tray she was carrying on the chair. Her face was alight with mischief. “That will upset old Ma Powell.”
Georgie tried not to smile. She sympathised with Martha but Mrs Powell had some justification for her attitude. She would reserve judgement on the woman and it wouldn’t do to encourage Martha to be disrespectful.
“Thank you, Martha,” she said, in what she hoped was a quelling voice.
The maid bobbed a curtsey. “It’s no trouble, miss.” She ran out of the room before Georgie could say more.
***
The next morning Georgie came to with a start to find Martha opening the drapes. Light streamed through the window and she pulled herself into a sitt
ing position.
“What time is it?”
“Nearly eleven o’clock, Miss. I’ll go and fetch your clothes.”
How had she managed that after sleeping for most of the day yesterday? She sipped at the hot chocolate Martha had left for her. Martha returned with the best of her dresses. The brown velvet was old but at least it was good quality.
“I’ve washed and pressed this for you, miss.”
“Thank you. I’m sorry for the extra work I’ve caused you.”
Martha grinned. “I’m not. I’m from the village and when the Overtons didn’t arrive yesterday old Ma Powell would have sent me home on half pay.”
Georgie drew in a sharp breath. That wasn’t very good. Really what did she know about the Marquess? Was he simply careless or had he taken on a dragon like Mrs Powell to save him money? She pursed her lips. She had the impression he liked to think himself dutiful but especially when it coincided with his own interests. Perhaps that wasn’t entirely fair. At least in part he had been trying to put her at her ease.
“I think I will have breakfast in bed please, Martha.”
“Yes, Miss.” Martha skipped out.
She was a coward but she needed a few more hours to herself to adjust to her situation. Lady Overton had been kind and gracious in the past but would she be influenced by Mrs Powell’s attitude? The Marquess looked the sort of man who generally got his way but it would be uncomfortable if Lady Overton took a dislike to her. She leaned back against her pillows.
If she had asked him to help her obtain her inheritance and keep her safe until she was established, without marrying him, he would have done so she felt sure. He was a proud man and now she had agreed to his proposal he would probably be too angry to help her if she changed her mind. The truth was he fascinated her and part of her wanted to marry him. The wanton part that couldn’t forget his kiss and his firm body pressed against hers.
The sensible part had serious doubts. A shudder ran through her. He would keep her safe if only to protect any future heirs. He couldn’t have made it any plainer that his main interest was to get himself an heir. How would he act if she failed to provide at least one son? She shivered. What had she done?
