The Truth Behind Their Practical Marriage

by Marguerite Kaye

  ‘You seemed very taken with them.’

  ‘They were a nice family, obviously close.’

  ‘I’d like a family like that. I mean I’d like what that woman had—to be the centre of someone’s world, to nurture a child—no, a host of children—and watch them grow.’ Aidan looked as startled by the admission as she was herself. ‘I don’t know why I blurted that out. Ignore me.’

  ‘It’s a natural enough thing to want. I want it myself,’ he said, with an odd little smile. ‘But we can’t always have what we want, can we? Cashel Duairc is crying out for a gaggle of children to fill it with laughter, turn it into a home, not a draughty castle. But it’s not going to happen in my lifetime.’

  ‘Why on earth not?’ Estelle asked, both touched and taken aback by this confession.

  ‘I told you, I’m not in the market for a wife.’

  ‘Never? I thought you meant at the moment.’

  ‘I meant never.’

  His tone was clipped, his expression forbidding. Mortified, Estelle could think of only one reason for this sudden change in his mood. ‘You need not worry that I have designs on you.’

  His hand found hers under the table. ‘I don’t. Did I mention,’ he continued after a brief silence, ‘that I first came to university here when I was eighteen? When my father died, I was obliged to return home and therefore left before completing my degree.’

  ‘So you came back to pick up the reins of your misspent youth when you turned thirty?’

  He smiled weakly. ‘I’m sorry to disillusion you, but I never had a misspent youth. I was a very serious young man back then, and inheriting Cashel Duairc so unexpectedly made me even more so.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘To my father? He was one of the main investors in the project to build the Royal Canal, and I suspect an irritating distraction to the men charged with actually constructing the thing, for he was a bit of an amateur engineer. It was when he was inspecting one of the half-built bridges that he died—the scaffolding gave way.’

  ‘Oh, Aidan, how awful, I’m so sorry.’

  ‘He wasn’t the only casualty, not by a long shot. Building canals—building anything—is a dangerous business. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time, is what it amounts to. It’s a pity that he never got to see it completed. They invited me to the opening—one of my first official duties, after I inherited.’

  ‘That must have been very difficult for you.’

  ‘I was too busy to think, most of the time.’

  ‘And so your studies were put on hold.’

  ‘Abandoned for twelve years, would be more accurate.’ Aidan picked up his empty coffee cup, frowned down at the cold grounds and signalled for another. ‘As it turns out, the world hasn’t been deprived of a mathematical genius after all. But my time here hasn’t been wasted. I reckon I’ll take some inspiration from my father and put my studies to more practical use in the form of engineering. There’s no shortage of projects to keep me occupied.’

  Estelle puzzled over this insight into his thinking while they waited for his coffee to be served. ‘Occupied to the extent that there would be no room for a wife and family?’ she asked when they were once again alone.

  He hesitated, drinking his coffee in one gulp in the Italian manner. ‘The structures I build will be my legacy.’

  Was that an answer? She still couldn’t understand why he was so set against marriage, but his words had struck a chord none the less. Aidan could not be a mathematician, but being an engineer was a practical alternative use of his talents. ‘To follow your logic, if my continued single status denies me the opportunity of having a family of my own,’ Estelle said, ‘then perhaps I should consider helping other families raise their children.’

  ‘Surely you don’t imagine yourself as a governess?’

  ‘Oh, dear heavens, no! I am far too independently minded for that. But establishing a school—now that is something I’ve not considered. Using my one talent to teach children to play musical instruments.’

  ‘Estelle, tell me to mind my own business if you want, but isn’t the obvious answer to your dilemma to find a husband rather than found a school, however laudable the motive? Look at you! You’re beautiful, talented, clever, witty—you cannot possibly be short of suitors.’

  ‘Oh, if I could content myself with marrying a man who was merely interested in fathering my children, not being a father to them, then I expect I could have settled down to raising my brood years ago. That sounds horribly conceited,’ she added, grimacing, ‘but I’m afraid I have a very romantic view of parenthood, and believe that children deserve both parents sharing an interest in their upbringing.’

  ‘Is that romantic? It seems to me perfectly rational.’

  ‘Ha, tell that to my parents!’

  ‘From what you’ve told me, your parents set a terrible example, but they are not typical I assure you. If all you wish for is a man who wants a family...’

  ‘Well, no, it’s not as simple as that.’

  ‘What else do you require? I’m fascinated. Go on, describe your ideal husband.’

  ‘Oh, he is a perfect paragon of a man. Good company, a man who will share my life without wanting to dominate it. A man who respects me, and who doesn’t simply lust after me, who truly listens to what I say, you know, and who makes conversation, rather than one of those men who simply spout their own views. A man who can see past the colour of my hair, and my figure, who doesn’t think the sound of his own voice more important than his wife’s—’ She broke off, embarrassed. ‘When I put it like that, it’s clear my expectations are unrealistic, but a lifetime is far too long to spend in the company of a man I don’t actually like and besides—Oh, it doesn’t matter.’

  ‘It clearly does.’

  Estelle pondered. She and her sisters rarely talked about the past, for it was too painful a subject, and they were afraid of opening up old wounds. Being alone, first at Elmswood and then on her travels, had given her a great deal of time to reflect. Despite the fact that she had known Aidan for such a little time, and perhaps because their time was coming to an end almost before it had begun, it mattered to her that he understood her. ‘In a nutshell,’ she said, ‘I want a marriage as different from my parents’ as it is possible to have.’

  ‘The fact that your eldest sister was forced to play mother from an early age, tells me that they were neither fond nor attentive parents,’ Aidan said, choosing his words carefully.

  ‘Nor particularly present for much of the time.’ Estelle frowned down at her coffee cup, turning it around and around on her saucer. ‘Mama was a beauty. Papa’s role was to worship at her shrine. I suppose you would describe it as a tempestuous marriage.’ She glanced briefly at Aidan before returning her attention to the coffee cup. ‘My father was besotted with my mother and she with him, though not exclusively so. Their marriage was an endless cycle of passion boiling over into jealousy, resentment giving way to reconciliation. And all of it played out in front of their children, with absolutely no regard for the effect it was having. We used to peer through the banister rail at them, me and Phoebe, until Eloise dragged us away.’

  ‘I didn’t realise. I didn’t mean to upset you. We’ll talk of something else.’

  But she shook her head. ‘I might as well finish now I’ve started, if you want to hear it?’

  ‘Of course I do, but I don’t want to upset you any further.’

  ‘It wasn’t like that all the time. They preferred Dublin, and only came to the country when funds were short. We were happy enough left to our own devices, our little gang of three, or we thought we were. Looking back, I can see that we were quite neglected—out of sight, out of mind, you know?’

  Aidan swore softly.

  ‘My thoughts exactly,’ Estelle said wryly, ‘though to be fair, they neglected their tenants even more than their child
ren and—and they didn’t neglect all their children.’ She pressed the heels of her hands together, bracing herself. ‘I had a brother. Diarmuid was five years younger than Phoebe and I. The longed-for son and heir, the golden child—not only in our parents’ eyes either, all three of us girls adored him. I haven’t mentioned him before. I still find it hard to talk about him, even after all this time. He was only ten when he died.’ She blinked rapidly. ‘I struggle to remember what he looked like sometimes, how he smiled and that naughty laugh of his. He was a spoilt brat, but a very endearing one, when he chose to be. He’d be twenty now. I wonder sometimes, what he’d have made of himself—though to be honest, I doubt he’d have had the inclination to make much of himself at all, for he was quite ruined. My point is, Aidan, that they were atrocious parents, to us girls and to poor little Diarmuid too.’

  ‘They didn’t deserve you.’

  ‘No, they didn’t. If we hadn’t had each other, we three, and lovely Aunt Kate, we might have turned out very badly.’

  ‘It is a tribute to the strength of character you must all have that you have turned out very well indeed.’

  ‘Well, now, there’s the rub, for I’ve yet to make anything of my life.’

  ‘Estelle...’

  ‘No, don’t go singing my praises, for to date I’ve done nothing of merit save survive, and hordes of people have done that in much worse circumstances. I didn’t tell you all this to make you feel sorry for me or even to impress you, I told you because I wanted you to understand why I won’t compromise when it comes to finding a father for my own children. Children need to be loved, Aidan, they need to be cared for, they need certainty and stability, not turmoil. What they don’t need is a mother and father who are so passionately in love with each other that they feel obliged to act out The Taming of the Shrew twice a day in front of them. Do you see?’

  ‘Only too well, and I couldn’t agree more, trust me.’

  ‘I must do, for I’ve told you far more than I meant to.’

  She watched him anxiously, dreading any sign of pity, but when he spoke, there was only warmth in his voice, and in his eyes, something approaching tenderness. ‘I’m glad you did. I feel I understand you much better now.’

  ‘Is that how you view me, a puzzle to be solved?’

  ‘A beautiful conundrum? That would certainly explain why I can’t stop thinking about you.’

  Colour flooded her cheeks. ‘And now I am no longer a mystery, your interest will pall.’

  ‘On the contrary, I am already certain that you’re going to be very difficult to forget.’

  ‘Aidan, I...’ But the polite disclaimer died on her lips as their eyes met. ‘I feel exactly the same, believe me.’

  ‘I know.’ He pulled a handful of change from his pocket and pushed back his chair. ‘Shall we get on with making the most of what little time we have left, then?’

  * * *

  Time had grown wings since she met Aidan, Estelle thought. It was already almost a week past her self-imposed deadline. They had spent the afternoon exploring the Boboli Gardens, and had climbed from the amphitheatre, past Neptune’s fountain and up the stairs to the highest point. It was late afternoon, and the gardens were clearing, leaving them alone, sitting on the grass side by side in the shade of the cypress trees. Florence was spread out below them, a mass of red-tiled roofs, with Brunelleschi’s Duomo, and Giotto’s Campanile highlighted against the dramatic backdrop of the Chianti mountains.

  ‘I like your gown,’ Aidan said. ‘I don’t think I’ve seen it before.’

  ‘I didn’t think you noticed my clothes.’

  ‘I notice everything about you. What is this colour—mint green? You favour it, you’ve another gown the same colour, though the sleeves are different, a puffier shape, and it has emerald ribbons. I prefer the lemon. Though my favourite of your gowns is the pale-blue one with the lace trim.’

  ‘It’s a little too tight for comfort.’

  Aidan’s smile became wicked. ‘In my opinion it fits like a glove, since it shows your figure off to perfection.’ He held his hands up, laughing. ‘Or maybe I’d better not express any opinion.’

  She was blushing, laughing, and because it was Aidan, not at all offended. ‘Have you any other observations to make about my toilettes?’

  ‘Oh, any number, but I won’t embarrass either of us by sharing them. Are you looking forward to your trip away tomorrow?’

  ‘Honestly? I wish I hadn’t agreed to go to Siena with Lady Gertrude.’

  ‘The wife of our most senior diplomat in Tuscany. Her invitation is quite an honour. You must go.’

  ‘It would be considered very rude of me to refuse.’

  ‘And foolish. You will travel in style, and sleep in comfort.’

  ‘I have only met her once, but she seems very amenable. And I’ll only be gone a couple of days.’

  ‘I’ll miss you.’

  ‘And I will miss you. Will you resume your studies while I’m away?’

  Aidan shook his head. ‘I think my studying days are behind me.’

  ‘And your sabbatical year too, will be over soon.’

  His smile faded. ‘Let’s not talk of that.’

  Estelle plucked a blade of grass. It was wiry, even this early in the year, the soil already parched. ‘I’m thinking that Venice will be the next major destination on my trip.’

  ‘When? Have you made plans?’

  ‘Not yet.’ Though she should have, long before now. ‘When I get back from Siena though, I was thinking...’

  ‘That it was time you moved on.’ Aidan stared out at the view, but bewitching as it was, she had the distinct impression he was seeing a very different landscape. ‘You’re right, of course,’ he said, nodding to himself. ‘And after Venice, what then?’

  Estelle shrugged. ‘Perhaps I’ll just keep wandering on into another sunset and then another, and never go back to England.’

  ‘You don’t mean that.’ He turned back towards her then, covering her hand with his, his expression a gentle rebuke. ‘You’re not a wanderer at heart, Estelle. You’re a woman that needs a place to call her own. A home.’

  His words brought a lump to her throat, for they showed an understanding of her character that even she hadn’t quite recognised. ‘I also need a purpose. I owe it to Eloise as well as myself, to do something productive with my funds.’

  ‘I’m not sure I understand.’

  ‘My independence was not a legacy from my parents, Aidan, it was Eloise’s doing. When she married Alexander, it was part of the arrangement, that she could make settlements on both Phoebe and I.’

  ‘Arrangement? You mean the marriage contract?’

  Estelle plucked another blade of grass, twisting it around her finger into a ring.

  ‘Forgive me, I didn’t mean to pry.’

  ‘Isn’t it strange how, despite spending many hours in each other’s company, we’ve avoided discussing our circumstances?’

  ‘The real world, you mean? I thought that’s what we both wanted.’

  ‘It is. Only—my sister, Phoebe, bought me a little globe in Paris. It’s a glass dome with a model of the city in miniature inside it. I sometime feel that you and I are living in our own glass dome, isolated from the world. I don’t want to leave our little private bubble, but I must, I’ve wasted enough time. I have to get on with the rest of my life now.’

  Estelle pulled the grass ring from her finger, casting it aside. ‘Eloise’s marriage of convenience has turned out very well. She and her husband have proved an excellent match. They have a little girl now, and they are working together on a vast project to modernise his lands. After Eloise was married, Phoebe wasted no time in putting her windfall to use.’

  ‘Her restaurant?’

  ‘Yes. There were a few twists and turns along the way, but she succeeded—is now succeeding
beyond her wildest dreams. She’s actually married too now. A business arrangement, not a love match, and like Aunt Kate, she and her husband were living apart for a time, though according to her latest letter, he recently returned, and she seems very happy to see him.’

  ‘Good Lord! When you told me that your parents’ marriage was destructive...’

  ‘But we learned from it, all three of us.’

  ‘And then there was Aunt Kate,’ Aidan said, looking much struck. ‘Was she the role model for your sisters’ marriages?’

  ‘Are you imagining her as a sort of scheming wedding planner?’ Estelle burst into a peal of laughter. ‘If you could see her, you’d understand why that is so funny. In fact she was very much against Eloise’s marriage at first, even though it was proposed by my Uncle Daniel.’

  ‘So he is the scheming wedding planner?’

  ‘Ha! If he was, then perhaps he could find me a husband like Eloise’s—for in my view, she has the perfect marriage. But he had nothing to do with Phoebe’s marriage, she arranged that all by herself and now he—oh, it doesn’t matter.’

  ‘You told me, oh, aeons ago, on the first day we met in fact, that your time at Elmswood Manor was over—by choice, you said. But it’s been your home for nigh on ten years, Estelle, wouldn’t it make sense for you to return there, regroup, consult your oracle of an aunt on your future?’

  ‘No.’ She picked up another strand of grass and began to weave it into another ring. ‘I’ve had five years to think about the future, Aidan—five whole years of more or less living in limbo while my sisters got on with their lives. I’ve not been entirely useless. Latterly, just before I took up my travels, I was looking after Elmswood for Aunt Kate, but now suddenly I’m twenty-five!’ She cast her second attempt at a grass ring aside impatiently. ‘Perhaps we were right after all not to talk of the world outside our little glass dome, it’s too depressing. What will you do while I’m in Siena?’

  ‘Miss you?’

  ‘Don’t say that.’

  ‘It’s the truth.’ He leaned in, pressing his cheek to hers, pushing back her bonnet, smoothing her hair. ‘When you leave Florence, the spell you’ve cast over me will lose all its power, and I’ll go back to the real world, and you—you’ll go on to work your magic somewhere else, spellbind some other lucky fellow.’