Unsuitable Bride For A Viscount (The Yelverton Marriages Book 2)

by Elizabeth Beacon

  ‘I should never have asked you to talk about this when it obviously upsets you. Please will you ignore my nosiness, I truly did not mean to make you cry.’

  Impossible to say it was the awful realisation she was actually in love with Juno’s uncle that did that, not only the memory of Daniel being so gruffly silent for once when they first met and so gallantly determined not to act upon the unseemly spark of attraction between himself and Lieutenant Yelverton’s sister. ‘Sometimes we have to cry, Juno. It is the only right response to a situation we have no control over. I learned to hold my tears in and pretend not to be feeling anything very much while I lived with my parents in Bath after Daniel died and grief twisted in on me until I felt dead inside. Anything is better than living in a world that suddenly feels grey and hopeless and I hope I never have to go back to the wretched place again and relive the sorrow I lived with there. If you have a yearning to see the place, I would be grateful if you would dismiss me and engage another companion because I cannot endure it.’

  ‘That I do not and even if I did I would rather have you and put off a need to visit a place that sounds far too full of dull people without enough to do. And I do hope I will be considered a disgrace to my family and far too disreputable to be allowed to join the gossips in Bath if I never marry. I would rather keep cats and a procession of scandalous lovers than end up in such a hotbed of silver loo and scandal one day because I forgot to live an exciting life.’

  Marianne had to laugh at the highly unlikely scenario. ‘I think perhaps you should become a playwright instead with an imagination like that,’ she said.

  ‘I really wish I had the talent for it, but was it really so awful living there?’ Juno said as if she could not believe a lady so much older than she was could be bowed down by hard words and slights just as she was by those spiteful girls in London.

  ‘Not really, I was feeling low and that colours the way you see a place, but it really was boring and full of bored people with nothing much to do but make up stories about anyone a little out of the ordinary to enliven their days.’

  ‘I wish they would mind their own business, then.’

  ‘So do I, but most of the time I barely heard the tutting and whispering about me. It was trying to pretend there was nothing wrong with me that made the world seem so bleak. Not being true to yourself is a curse I hope you never endure.’

  ‘No, indeed, it sounds even worse than my miserably unsuccessful debut. So you hate Bath and I loathe London. I hope neither of us needs to set foot in them ever again, but there is not much hope of us ever being truly fashionable without one or the other of them to bring us up to scratch.’

  ‘Perhaps we could endure it for some new clothes now and again and you could learn to endure the capital for a week or two to look suitably ravishing to enchant this beau you have been dreaming about meeting one day, I suppose? My mother has always insisted the London dressmakers are literally a cut above the rest.’ Marianne thought Juno was trying to joke her out of her sadness and was touched. The girl had depth and character far beyond that of the usual debutantes and in a few years’ time the polite world could be in for a shock when the Honourable Miss Defford finally came out of her shell.

  ‘Not dressmakers, Mrs Turner, modistes,’ Juno corrected primly. Marianne laughed at her imitation of a fine lady astonished anyone could even speak about such distinct branches of the craft in the same breath. ‘And now there is Paris to outdo them all, since they say the finest modistes in the world live there and set the fashions everyone else is forever trying to catch up with,’ Juno added.

  ‘And what does Miss Defford say about Paris and all the finery she might find if only her uncle would consent to her going there?’

  ‘That they are still only clothes and she is very happy as she is. I do not think I will care if I never see another fashion plate in my entire life.’

  ‘Hmm,’ Marianne mused. ‘I expect you were always dressed in white as a debutante. With your dark hair and creamy skin you would look much better in colours and even I love the luxury and fine texture of silks and good velvet as I move, as long as I do not have to wear them all the time and be forever worrying about getting dirty.’

  ‘I cannot imagine you sitting in state all the time in order to keep your gown from harm,’ Juno said with a rueful smile.

  ‘No, neither can I,’ Marianne said and shook her head at a fantasy of being Lady Stratford, dressed in silks and satins to please her lord and make her feel more of an aristocrat. That was a fantasy that could turn into a nightmare when it rubbed up against the day-to-day reality of trying to be someone she was not, so it was just as well it would never come true.

  ‘You never did tell me how you know when a man is the right one for you, Marianne.’ Juno interrupted her reverie, thank goodness, so she owed her another try at explaining the unexplainable.

  ‘When he makes you forget any differences of rank and fortune and expectations between you. He may be a gallant fool who thinks he ought to put you first and walk away, even if it hurts you to even think about not being there to share his life with him from that moment on, but he is your fool nevertheless. Because he lights a fire in you that refuses to go out and maybe because he is uniquely himself. In the end it is simply because you love him and if he loves you back there is no better feeling on earth. Where he walks is where you want to go, too. Where he is going is the place you need to be.

  ‘But although we were so certain we loved one another and it was right to have risked everything for him, there were days when I wished I had never met him, Juno. Sometimes I longed for safety and certainty and home when I was with Daniel in Portugal and Spain, but I would still rather have been with him than sit safely in Lisbon waiting for him to come back, or not. There were days when I wanted to weep with fatigue and hunger and Daniel wanted to send me away so I would not suffer the privations he had to endure so we could be together, but I am so glad I am a stubborn woman and I would not go, because that way we had so much more time together than we would have done if I was a biddable sort of person who does as she is told.’

  ‘I will be sure I feel that much for a man before I risk everything for him then, but could a person love like that more than once, do you think?’ Juno added so casually Marianne eyed her with suspicion. The girl could look so innocent she made lambs seem cynical.

  ‘Maybe,’ Marianne replied tightly and hoped that was enough to let Juno know there was some ground she should not tread on.

  * * *

  ‘I fear the poor old place has not been lived in for decades, Your Lordship.’

  ‘I can see that for myself,’ Alaric replied absently.

  ‘It was a splendid old house in my grandfather’s day. He often spoke of the fine company and days of feasting and dancing here when old Miss Hungerford was young and engaged to marry a baronet.’

  ‘What happened?’ Alaric asked, still staring at the uneven shamble of roofs added piecemeal when the owners wanted more room for guests or family and what looked like a long gallery tacked on to the roof of the west wing when fashion dictated every house with any pretensions to grandeur should have one.

  ‘He ran off with a serving wench and was never heard of again. It was the scandal of the county and the locals swear Miss Hungerford’s father caught up with the rogue, ran him through in a fury then buried his body so deep in the woods nobody will ever find him.’

  ‘And the maid?’

  ‘I suppose she ran away,’ the lawyer said as if it had never occurred to him to worry about a servant girl. ‘A runaway maid would soon find work in a city and it is not far to Gloucester or Hereford or even Bristol from here. The locals claim to see Sir Edwin walk on moonless nights searching for his lover, but I do not know how they expect anyone to believe it when such darkness stops you seeing your own hand an inch in front of your face, let alone the wraith of a man who probably got clean away, then liv
ed out his life in disguise to avoid Miss Hungerford’s father’s wrath. I expect the maid got old and ugly and he regretted losing all this place must have offered a man for a pretty face and a comfortable armful.’

  The lawyer was clearly not a believer in the power of true love over rank and differences of fortune, even if he liked to tell an improbable tale. Alaric tried to block his ears to the man’s chatter and assess the place as a possible home for himself and his family. Juno would like living anywhere that was not Stratford Park, its Dower House or Stratford House in London. And if only he could persuade her to marry him, would Marianne like this poor old place? She might relish the challenge of renewing and restoring an even more tumbledown house than her brother’s equally ancient manor house was before she started. And yet... There was a forlorn air of old glories and future possibilities he felt guilty about turning his back on. If he ever managed to persuade the stubborn, challenging, extraordinary woman to let them both be happy, he would bring her here and let her make her own mind about it.

  ‘Are there smugglers this far from the coast?’ he asked as part of that story about ghosts walking rang true. Moonless nights would not betray signs the so-called Gentlemen were at work to the authorities, but they were a long way from the sea in this wild corner of Herefordshire nearly into the ancient mysteries of the Forest of Dean.

  ‘The River Severn is tidal as far as Gloucester,’ the man admitted cautiously so Alaric concluded he was right and the tale had been put about to keep the curious in bed on the darkest nights of the year.

  ‘So an old tale of mayhem and haunting would be very useful to anyone with nefarious business in the dark,’ he said, wondering if the house itself might be of use for storing cargoes since it was so forlorn and empty he doubted anyone had been employed to watch over it for a very long time. Smugglers to scout as well as spiders and vermin this time then, but if he could persuade Marianne to let them both be happy they could rid the poor old house of all its unwanted visitors and make it a perfect home for a hardworking country gentleman and his energetic lady.

  ‘Indeed,’ the lawyer said gloomily.

  At least the man had fallen silent while Alaric worked through that reason for the old tale being embroidered and kept alive for such a purpose and they both brooded on the broken windows and tumbled slates of Prospect House as it sank into ruin. ‘No,’ Alaric said at last. ‘I require a house and estate that needs hard work and dedication to get it all up to scratch and working well again, but this place has gone too far.’

  It would not do to let the lawyer know he already felt angry the near-derelict old house had been allowed to get in such a state it was nearly too late to save it. He hoped to persuade Marianne to feel the same way about it as long as she would take him with it, of course. He could not live under the same roof as her one day longer and not let her and his niece and the rest of the world know he was in love with the woman. He had endured quite enough of being the honourable man and trying not to seduce his niece’s companion was more than he could manage now he had spent three whole weeks riding about his native land pretending she was no more to him than any other ladylike companion for his niece might be and that he was not tortured by unsated need and yearning for her beside him in every bed he had slept in since the day he met her. She could either marry him or find another fool to drive to distraction with her stubborn temper and coolly challenging blue eyes.

  He had borne weeks of it before he was wound up to such a pitch of wanting and needing her he knew he would break if he stayed with her and Juno on the road one day longer. For once it had been useful to be a lord with too many matters of business to neglect for much longer when he found an excuse to leave Juno with her and ride away. And at last that month was nearly up so she had best get ready to be thoroughly seduced by her former employer the moment he could bring that foolish contract to an end, if only she would finally admit they felt more for one another than a polite lord and Juno’s companion should if they were to remain polite and companionly much longer.

  ‘I will write to colleagues in nearby towns and see if they know of anything in the area,’ the lawyer said with a last mournful look at the poor old house and a shrug as if he had done his best for it and it had been worth a try.

  Luckily Alaric was looking for comfort and a house you could not lose half a regiment in without feeling crowded and this place could do very well. He was done with echoing glory and lonely staterooms; Stratford Park was far too uncomfortable and barn-like to live in day by day and he wanted far more from life than gilding and consequence and a marriage of convenience. This place was close enough to Owlet Manor to visit in a day and far enough away for them not to live in one another’s pockets. And Chantry Old Hall was only twenty miles away as the crow flew, since crows could fly over water and that tidal River Severn was a significant barrier to humankind.

  He suspected there was a lot more than employer and governess between Miss Yelverton and Harry Marbeck as well, but he would not lay odds on them reaching a happy ending. He sensed a troubled soul under Marbeck’s determined pursuit of pleasure and deliberate provocation of the gossips, but if any female could tame him it was a Yelverton, so who knew? He was far more wrapped up in his own Yelverton female to even want to interfere and he hoped it was just a question of planning and hoping and not giving up on a very different dream than he thought he wanted before Juno went missing and his whole life seemed to collapse around him.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Marianne felt shaken and bewildered by the speed they had travelled since Juno received an invitation to spend a week or two with Miss Donne in Broadley and immediately wrote back accepting it and promising to be with her very shortly. The usually docile and obliging girl then insisted they travel as fast as they could go to get back to a place she had obviously been longing to be during this whole month of leisurely exploring this place and that.

  So now here they were, back where they started. Marianne was not quite sure how she felt about being at Miss Donne’s neat home where she had opened that lady’s front door so unwarily that first memorable morning and found a travel-worn and exhausted viscount on the doorstep. Images of Alaric tense with exhaustion and worry and handsome as ten devils haunted her at the most inconvenient moments as it was. Being back in Broadley and visiting Owlet Manor without him when his presence there was imprinted on her memory as well would feel so bittersweet. He was hardly likely to come here when he knew Juno was safe and sound and happy with people she felt at ease with. Now he could go back to his old life and his fashionable and important friends and forget he had ever kissed a prickly woman who could not guard her tongue or her heart effectively whenever she was with him.

  In a few months’ time he would probably struggle to recall her name when they met to discuss Juno’s next move and whether it was too soon to try and persuade his ward to try another London Season in the spring and hope for a much better outcome for her this time. Goodness, she was tired after all this travelling, though. She sighed and wondered what was wrong with her as she struggled to be glad Juno was so much happier now that her uncle obviously thought it was all right to leave her to carry on with her life without his constant presence.

  Tiredness and a lack of spirits had dragged at Marianne ever since Alaric left them in Buxton. She looked back at the long days of work she had put into Owlet Manor before Darius married Fliss and sighed for the energy and single-minded verve of those first weeks and months at the dear old place, before life became complicated by love declared and fulfilled for her beloved brother and this unexpected and ridiculous love of hers for a man who probably did not want her anywhere near as much as she did him.

  ‘Uncle Alaric!’ Juno exclaimed as she stepped out of the hired carriage ahead of Marianne and ran towards her uncle like an eager schoolgirl.

  And it was true! Lord Stratford really had just stepped out of the yard entrance to the Royal George at Broadley and no
w he was striding forward to greet his niece as if a magician conjured him up out of Marianne’s yearning thoughts and what the devil was he doing here? Whatever it was she felt her heart race and colour flush into her cheeks as she wondered if she might be about to faint for the first time in her life. The shock of seeing him so unexpectedly made her feel light-headed and silly and then there was this urgent need to forget the rest of the world and run towards him and embrace him in such a very public place as soon as Juno had finished with him. The poor man would be horrified. Even the thought of his face as he fended her off with a harassed expression sobered her.

  But, oh, dear, he was handsome, though, wasn’t he? And strong and compelling as well and he made the rest of the world fade to silence and never mind the activity and noise all around them. She must be standing here gawping at him like an open-mouthed yokel. For a moment she dreamed of a fairy-tale world where they were the only ones who mattered to each other, until reality stepped back in and the rest of the world was suddenly noisy and curious and real again.

  They were in a yard with horses and grooms and ostlers busy all around them and even the odd curious face or two at the windows looking to see what important personage had arrived this time in a luxurious carriage with outriders and mud-splashed and weary horses that said no expense had been spared in getting here as fast as possible. And Alaric was a lord and she was a lady’s companion.

  It was her own fault he had ordered himself to forget they had ever kissed one another as if they meant it, her doing. She had snapped and snarled at him so effectively he had treated her as an almost polite stranger from the moment they set out from Owlet Manor on this meandering journey to show Juno there was another world outside her schoolroom and the London ballrooms she had hated so much.