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Wedded for His Secret Child

Page 6

by Helen Dickson


  When he halted in front of her he bowed, smiling at her, but it was to his friend that he spoke. ‘I see you have made Miss Frobisher’s acquaintance, Antony.’

  ‘It has been my pleasure,’ Antony replied, ‘and you were right, Laurence. She is quite charming. I do believe your lovely lady has drawn everyone’s attention.’

  Laurence glanced around and noticed as he did so several people turn rapidly away in embarrassment at having been caught gaping.

  ‘Now—please excuse me,’ Antony said, looking towards his wife, who was moving about the guests. ‘My wife is beckoning.’

  Melissa watched him walk away. For what seemed an eternity, she stood perfectly still, existing in a state of jarring tension, clinging to her composure as she waited for Laurence to speak to her. At that moment she was sure that there were no eyes in all the world that shone brighter than those which looked down into hers. As she stared into the translucent depths, it was easy for her to imagine a woman being swept away by admiration for him without a single word being uttered. A slow, appreciative smile worked its way across his face as his eyes leisurely roamed over her body. The unspoken compliment made her blood run warm. Taking her arm, he led her away from her parents.

  ‘You look entrancing,’ he said in a quiet voice. ‘I’m delighted you were able to join us. I can imagine the invitation came as something of a surprise. I should have warned you, but there was no time. Eliza was keen to meet you before the wedding.’

  ‘It was kind of her. I thought it was your doing.’

  ‘I implied I would appreciate them making your acquaintance before the ceremony. It was Eliza who suggested a dinner—inviting some close neighbours would give your father the opportunity to announce our betrothal. Would you approve of that? After witnessing their treatment of you, I think it especially needful tonight.’

  Inhaling deeply and taking a firm hold of herself, she nodded. ‘As you wish. It will certainly please my mother to have it out in the open.’

  ‘Personally I don’t care a damn what people think, but, no matter what you believe, it is not my wish to cause more gossip that will hurt you.’

  Her face working with the strength of her emotion, which had, for the moment, got the better of her, Melissa gazed up at him. His eyes shone softly down into hers. His words, spoken quietly and with gravity, touched her deeply. ‘I’m afraid it’s a little late for that. You have seen how I am being treated. When Violet was born, they might as well have tarred and feathered me and tied me to a tree.’

  At any other time Laurence would have laughed at the image her words conjured up in his mind, but now he would not insult her by doing so, for the strain of what she had gone through—was still going through—was there on her lovely, troubled face for him to see.

  ‘You have been treated harshly. You did not deserve that. For what it’s worth I am sorry and I am determined to do my upmost to put it right. I will speak to your parents before we go in to dinner.’

  ‘Sir Antony and Eliza have made me feel welcome. I appreciate that.’

  ‘They were astonished when I told them we are to be married—although they cannot fail to be taken with Violet when they meet her. When they were made aware of the circumstances that have brought about our betrothal, they agreed that I am doing the right thing. Now come and meet some of the other guests before we go in to dinner.’

  She hung back. ‘Do I have to?’

  His slow smile held the charm that had drawn many a lady into his arms before his marriage. Taking her hand, he tucked it into the crook of his arm. ‘Consider it necessary—to please me.’

  Laurence seemed blind to the conspiratorial smiles Antony and Eliza exchanged and his manner was that of pride as he calmly presented Melissa to the house guests—a polite, friendly gathering—who were suddenly willing to set aside their displeasure concerning Melissa’s past conduct in the face of such a distinguished and wealthy gentleman’s preference for her company.

  * * *

  The meal was a relaxed, informal affair and extremely civilised. Melissa found herself seated beside Laurence, who was attentive to her every need throughout the meal. The gay and constant chatter lightened the mood somewhat. Looking for unease on Melissa’s face, Laurence found nothing but calm and the soft glow of light in her lovely eyes. Despite her inexperience, she spoke easily and with confidence to those around her. There was surprise followed by congratulations when Baron Frobisher announced the betrothal and it pleased Laurence to see how his future wife became lively and amiable, a lovely young woman in possession of a natural wit and intelligence.

  Seeing her as she was tonight, her face flushed after partaking of a small glass of wine, her eyes sparkling in the light of the chandelier suspended above the table, Laurence thought she was still a girl in many ways. A girl he was intrigued by, a girl who had it in her to entice and arouse him—a young girl who had been hurt and paid the price for what he had done to her. He had not set out to seduce her, nor she to trap him. She had thought she loved him, deeply and sincerely and with all her young heart. And so they had come together in that age-old way and he had taken her from girl to woman. The simple truth was that he had amused himself with her and for that he was deeply ashamed.

  ‘Are you glad you came?’ he asked, bending his head close to her ear.

  Turning, she met his eyes and saw a kindly warmth in the silver depths. ‘It’s turned out better than I could have hoped.’

  ‘And no doubt you’re wondering what all the fuss was about.’ He chuckled at her questioning bewilderment. ‘Your mother told me you were concerned about appearing among your neighbours and that you took some persuading to come tonight.’

  ‘My mother has an unfortunate habit of saying too much and speaking her mind far too often,’ Melissa said crossly.

  ‘Think nothing of it. I can see you have set the gentlemen agog and tomorrow all the ladies’ tongues will be wagging, telling their neighbours how delightful is the lovely Melissa Frobisher after all. So you see, some success will have come out of tonight. Now, since I know virtually nothing about my future wife, tell me about yourself.’

  Melissa stared at him. ‘Why—what is it you wish to know?’

  ‘Anything—anything at all about your life before we met. I’ve always prided myself on being a good judge of character and I’d like to know if my assessment of you is correct.’

  Melissa laughed, making the loose curls about her head dance as she shook her head. ‘I think we will have to live together for some time for you to do that. If I don’t want you to think ill of me, then how will you know that what I tell you will not be out of self-interest?’

  His shadowed smile was lazy as he held her gaze. ‘Try me. I am not gullible enough to believe an interpretation of events that are untrue. Besides, I’ve already decided that you are a woman of passion and opinions, that you have the most stubborn nature and that good behaviour hasn’t always been an abiding principle in your life.’

  She sighed and looked at him with mock gravity. ‘That is a fair assessment. I cannot argue with it. I have always been contented and blissfully unaware of the vicissitudes of life. It may shock you to know that having decided from an early age that I had no use for the lessons in French and sums, or improving my writing and tuition on all the things a young lady of quality should learn, often evading my governess, I would saddle my horse and ride to places where no one could find me.’

  ‘I suppose galloping hell for leather all over the countryside was your idea of fun.’

  She flashed him a smile. ‘It was exactly that—although I’ve had to rein in my enthusiasm since Violet came along. In exasperation, my mother would scold me most severely, wondering why it was that her wayward, wilful daughter caused more ructions, more aggravation than her two older brothers put together. They were both even tempered, whereas I possessed a strength of will my mother called stubbornness. Only my
father, who found me good-humoured, lovable, maddening and frequently defiant, understood me. Mother frequently accused him of letting his daughter run rings around him.’

  ‘And did you?’

  ‘Yes...’ she laughed ‘...I’m afraid I did.’

  Her laughter was a husky, rich sound and Laurence remembered how it had drawn him to her in the Spring Gardens, when she had danced and laughed and tossed her head, her lovely amber eyes aglow with warmth. In the space of time they had been seated at the table, this enchanting young woman had made him feel more light-hearted than at any time in the last three years. Her manner was not flirtatious, but rather the result of naturally high spirits. Her eyes sparkled with merriment that was contagious. She fascinated him. In fact, he couldn’t remember being so intrigued by a woman for a long time.

  After she’d drained a small glass of wine, her inhibitions no longer as restricted as they had been when she’d arrived, Laurence was amused to see her wade through the delicious courses that were placed before her.

  ‘For a young lady of such slender proportions, you have a remarkably robust appetite.’ His eyes narrowed and one dark eyebrow rose in amusement.

  ‘I didn’t realise how hungry I was.’

  ‘So it would seem.’

  ‘Please don’t mind. I’ve eaten nothing all day. I was too nervous about tonight to eat—and I’ve been busy.’

  ‘Doing what?’

  ‘Getting ready for tonight. I couldn’t make my mind up what to wear—not that I have an extensive wardrobe, you understand, but I wanted to look my best.’

  ‘I can’t imagine it taking that long, although I must admit that I find the end result extremely pleasing.’

  His compliment brought a flush to her cheeks and she liked the way he was smiling at her as he said it. There was a curl to his mouth which she was not quite sure how to decipher, as if it gave him immense delight to tease her—not to be hurtful, but with a wicked smile and a glint in his eye which she could not interpret. She sensed he was a complex, deep-layered man who allowed no one to see the hidden fathoms of himself.

  * * *

  And then the evening was over. When they had said goodnight to their hosts and her parents had climbed into the carriage, Melissa hung back a moment to say a private goodnight to Laurence. Gazing at the cool, dispassionate man standing before her, looking so powerful, aloof and completely self-assured, she smiled up at him.

  ‘Not only are you an accomplished businessman—oh, Eliza lost no time in making me aware of your accomplishments,’ she told him when he raised a surprised eyebrow, ‘you also appear to have a gift for strategy and subtlety. Why, who would have thought that these are the same people who have shunned me for the past twelve months. I have not seen Mother look so animated in a long time. She could not be more delighted at the way things have turned out—for which we have you to thank.’

  Taking her hand and raising it to his lips, he smiled down at her, relieved that the evening had gone well and a beginning had been made to their future relationship. ‘I do my best,’ he replied. Unable to resist the temptation she presented him with, he drew her close, savouring her warmth and her softness. So alluring was the curve of her lips that he was tempted to prolong the embrace, but he chose instead to keep it gentle and persuasive, merely brushing her lips with his own.

  ‘Goodnight, Melissa. When we see each other again it will be at the church.’

  * * *

  On the journey back to High Meadows Melissa was content to sit back and let her thoughts drift while her mother talked non-stop about the evening, seeming unaware that her words fell on deaf ears. Melissa’s head was filled with thoughts of her betrothed, unable to really believe that very soon she would be his wife. She found herself contemplating what her future would be like married to Laurence Maxwell. Had she really agreed to be his wife? She wanted it, this came to her in a blaze of honesty, but at the same time she shrank from the prospect.

  Out of curiosity she wanted to know more about Alice. She wondered what kind of marriage he had enjoyed with his late wife. He had mentioned her, but told Melissa nothing about her, which could mean that he had loved her to distraction or quite the opposite. Never having experienced the loss of anyone close, she imagined that the death of a loved one had deep roots and cast long shadows. Its impact could be stored away, but not forgotten. Nothing would ever be the same again. Melissa was afraid of failing in her duties as a wife—and afraid that Laurence would measure her unfavourably against Alice.

  * * *

  ‘I am to commit my entire life into the keeping of a man I do not know—except in the carnal sense,’ she said to Daisy, her personal maid, as she helped her prepare for bed. ‘Oh, Daisy! When Violet was born I gave up thinking I would meet a man who would want to marry me—and certainly not Violet’s father. I cannot believe this is happening to me. I have to ask myself if I am doing the right thing.’

  ‘Of course you are, miss. You are about to marry the most handsome man I have ever laid eyes on. There are plenty of women who would give their eye teeth to be in your position, so don’t even consider changing your mind. You must look on this as a golden opportunity. Don’t let it slip through your fingers. If you do, mark my words you’ll live to regret it. Besides, you can’t deprive Violet of her father. She would never forgive you.’

  Melissa sighed. ‘I know.’ Her eyes clouded over and her face became serious as she quietly contemplated Daisy’s words. ‘He would not be marrying me were it not for Violet, Daisy, I know that. I have to wonder what marriage to him will be like. He is so proud and arrogant and intimidating at times—but I think deep down there is so much more to him than that. He is duty bound to right the wrong between us and he simply adores Violet. As young as she is, she already has him eating out of her hand.’

  ‘And who wouldn’t, miss? But it is scarcely to be wondered at that he is proud and arrogant. A man as rich as he is, and with everything in his favour, can afford to be. I have heard that among his friends he is an agreeable, good-humoured man—but I have also heard he has the most violent temper. You would do well not to aggravate him before you are married, otherwise he might change his mind and marry someone else instead.’

  Melissa gave her a sharply suspicious look in the mirror. ‘I doubt it. He’s not prepared to miss out on the chance of being Violet’s father. And anyway—how do you know so much about him all of a sudden?’

  ‘I just happen to know some of the servants at Beechwood House, miss. He’s often visited in the past and the staff have got to know him quite well.’

  Melissa knew how Daisy with her lively disposition loved to gossip and socialise in her time away from her duties at High Meadows, when she contrived to learn what news she could about people, so if anyone knew anything about what was going on in the area it was Daisy. ‘What else have you heard about him? Is there anything I should know about before I pledge my life to him?’

  ‘Not really—only that he was once married, which you already know about. His wife, who I believe was a great beauty, died several years ago, leaving him a widower.’

  ‘I wonder what happened?’ Melissa wondered aloud. ‘No doubt I shall find out in time. I’m glad you’re coming with me, Daisy. I don’t think I could bear it if you didn’t.’

  Daisy laughed, drawing the brush through Melissa’s long, curling hair. ‘I can’t wait to see what Winchcombe Hall is like, miss. Your life is going to be so different from what it is now. I wouldn’t miss it for anything.’

  Melissa sighed wistfully. Daisy was right. Laurence was handsome. In fact, he was the first man to stir her emotions and set her body aflame with desire. She wasn’t sure she liked the way her heart was inclined to race when she recalled the occasion in the Spring Gardens when they had been together, when he had spoken smooth endearments into her ear, for it made her realise how vulnerable she was to his charm.

  * * *
/>   Over the following days everything was hurried along—what her bridal gown would be, clothes gone through that would be suitable for the new Lady Maxwell to wear—until her husband provided her with a wardrobe befitting his wife. There was no time for Robert and his family to journey from the north, or Henry from his ship, to see her wed.

  * * *

  The wedding took place at midday in the small village church where Melissa had worshipped all her life. Here she was to become a Countess—Lady Maxwell. The realisation of the title struck her anew. She rarely considered the fact that on their marriage, Laurence’s status would become hers. Perhaps it was because of the uncertainty she still felt.

  The local pastor presided. The special licence Laurence had obtained eliminated the necessity of the reading of the banns. Stiff and unsmiling and with a strange sense of unreality, Melissa walked down the aisle of the small village church with her arm through that of her father’s. At the outset, Laurence had said he did not care to surround the ceremony with undue pomp. This suited Melissa perfectly, for she did not want to attract further attention to herself. But it was not the marriage she had envisioned. There were to be no festive celebrations and her gown was not the lavish extravagance of a bride. It was ivory and pale blue silk gauze, a gown that was not new, there being no time to hire a dressmaker to outfit her in the latest fashion, so she’d had to make do.

 

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