‘Oh, Aidan, that’s so unfair.’
He shook his head impatiently. ‘The reason we married was to have a family. It was what brought us together, and my failure to deliver what I promised drove us apart. A marriage without children was a sham, she was forever saying, and I couldn’t argue with her.’
Why not? Estelle thought indignantly. It took two to have a child. Why did he assume the burden of guilt? But Aidan’s eyes were troubled, and she knew, having witnessed her parents’ behaviour, that in a marriage nothing was ever black and white.
‘It was awful, watching her going through the cycle of hope and disappointment every month, knowing that I was to blame. She kept it hidden from everyone else. She was good—very good—at maintaining appearances,’ Aidan continued. ‘It was like an obsession with her, and every time she was disappointed...’ His shoulders shook. He cleared his throat. ‘Whether the fault lay with me at that point, I still don’t know and I don’t care. I begged her to speak to someone, her mother, my sister, anyone, but she refused point blank.’
Estelle, her heart twisted with pity, couldn’t begin to imagine how wretched he must have felt. And his poor wife too—though to blame Aidan—but she knew nothing of such matters, nor of the raw emotions which drove a childless wife. Several things about him fell into place. The moments when he had seemed to disappear into himself. His coming here to Florence, his sabbatical from real life, where he’d been happy in his youth. And his taking refuge in the world of mathematics too, where order and logic reigned, where outcomes were reassuringly predictable. Now he had given her the key, in the form of his poor deceased wife, she understood him. Guilt, regrets, a tragic loss and a barren, blighted marriage. Looking at him, she could see what it had cost him to bare his soul, for he looked positively haunted.
‘I can’t imagine how you must have felt,’ she said helplessly, ‘what it must have done to you. I’m so very sorry. How did she die, Aidan?’
‘There was an accident.’
‘An accident?’
He nodded. ‘I’ll probably never know exactly what happened. It’s irrelevant now, for what’s done is done.’
‘I understand,’ she said, which she did. She didn’t like to dwell on her parents’ accident either, though secretly, she was rather morbidly curious about this one. ‘May I ask what her name was?’
‘I prefer not to talk of those days. It’s been almost three years. Life goes on,’ Aidan said grimly, ‘as my sister never tires of telling me. It’s why I came here. And since I met you I’ve come to believe she might be right.’ Though his smile was forced, there was warmth in his eyes when his gaze met hers. ‘I never talk of those times, Estelle, I told you only because I don’t want you to make the mistake I did. You can’t bend nature to your will.’
She shivered, for his heartbreaking history had twisted her dream into a nightmare she had never considered. ‘It’s a tragic irony, isn’t it, that nature is most bounteous where she is least desired. There were families on Papa’s estates who had ten, twelve, fifteen children, and who could barely afford to feed one mouth. The workhouses must have been full of such poor wee souls, and the orphanages too, when the women nature favoured eventually died as a result of her over-generosity. I’m sorry,’ she added, grimacing, ‘that’s hardly the point you were trying to make.’
‘No, but it does beg an important question. If there are already more than enough children in the world in desperate need of a home, why not reduce their number rather than add to it?’ Aidan said. ‘It’s simply never occurred to me, to look at the problem that way.’
‘I’m not sure what you mean. Are you suggesting, that I raise orphans or foundlings? It’s an excellent idea, but aside from the fact that I doubt very much any orphanage would contemplate handing a child into the care of an unmarried woman, I’m firmly of the opinion that any child deserves both a mother and a father.’
‘An opinion I share, as you know.’
‘Why are you looking at me so strangely?’
‘I’m not sure, it’s probably an absolutely lunatic idea, but there’s a chance that you and I might be the perfect solution to each other’s problems.’
* * *
‘What on earth do you mean?’ Estelle demanded, looking utterly perplexed.
‘I’ll explain,’ Aidan answered, though he was already wondering if he could or indeed should. Was he a genius or a madman? He needed time to think. Jumping to his feet, holding out his hand. ‘Come on, we’ll take a walk up to the viewpoint.’
To his relief, she did as he asked, following him through the amphitheatre and up the slope. He was aware of her studying him, bemused by his sudden change of mood. She was probably thinking his brain had been addled by his confession.
Was it? Even the severely curtailed version he’d shared with her had stretched his self-control to the limits. Thank the stars Estelle hadn’t pressed him for details. He still couldn’t bring himself to say her name. The salient facts, even though they revealed only a small part of the sad, sordid story, would be enough, he hoped, to give her the benefit of his torrid experience. A salutary lesson that she could digest when they parted.
But what if they didn’t have to part? What if there was a way for them to be together? He hadn’t dared to consider such a possibility, because he had ruled out the one obvious solution. The solution which, ironically, half of Florence seemed to think he’d already proposed. But he had ruled out that solution for the wrong reason—or rather, looked at the problem from the wrong angle. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to marry, it was that he didn’t want to risk failure. If he could guarantee success, then it changed everything.
No, not quite everything, for ironically, the attraction which had brought them together in the first place was, as far as Estelle was concerned, a barrier to them spending their lives together. She probably wouldn’t even consider what he was about to suggest. Was it then wrong of him to suggest it at all?
They had reached the top of the hill. Aidan took off his jacket and spread it on the grass for Estelle to sit on, taking care not to sit too close to her. It was thankfully quiet up here, for most people baulked at the climb. Decision time. He could choose to say nothing, and bid Estelle farewell. If he spoke, there was a chance that she would take extreme umbrage, and never speak to him again. But there was a tiny chance that she might actually consider what he had to say.
‘I beg you to put me out of my misery,’ Estelle interrupted his mental debate. ‘You look like you are trying to decide whether to jump off a precipice or push me instead.’
Aidan gave a bark of laughter. ‘What I’m actually debating is whether we should jump together. A leap in the dark.’
‘Towards what?’ she asked, laughing. ‘For heaven’s sake, spit it out!’
‘You can’t just spit out a proposal of marriage.’ There was a brief, tense silence. ‘Except I just have.’
‘Very funny,’ Estelle said.
‘I’m deadly serious.’
‘You don’t want to get married. The very first day we met, you told me that you weren’t in the market for a wife, and after hearing what you said this afternoon, Aidan, I perfectly understand why.’
‘I don’t want to take a chance on marrying again, if it doesn’t result in having a family. But if I could guarantee that it would, that’s a different matter entirely.’
‘Forgive my inability to follow your logic, but I don’t understand a word of what you’re saying.’
‘That’s because I’m making a mull of it.’ Because now that he’d thought of it, he desperately wanted to succeed. He took a calming breath. ‘Nature is a variable that I can’t control. Adoption is the solution. Remove the risk and guarantee success by adopting a family, just as you suggested, from an orphanage or a workhouse. It’s the perfect solution—from my perspective, at any rate.’
‘I can just about see that, and I�
��m delighted to have helped, but I don’t understand why you think that it necessarily means that we should get married.’
‘Because if you asked me to describe my perfect wife, it would be you. You’re good company. You listen to what I say and make conversation rather than spouting your own views. You don’t think the sound of your own voice is more important than mine.’
‘Stop it, those are my words.’
‘And very sensible ones too. A lifetime is too long to spend in the company of someone you don’t like—your words again, and I couldn’t agree with you more. I know you were teasing when you said that I was your ideal husband, but I’m not teasing when I tell you that you are my ideal wife.’
* * *
Was he really serious? Eyeing Aidan askance, Estelle concluded that he was. Her head was reeling. She had barely had time to take in the fact that he’d been married before, and now he was proposing to marry her. Marry Aidan! It was an absolutely insane idea, and she shouldn’t even be considering it. But if she didn’t, what then?
‘I was teasing,’ Estelle said, ‘when I said that you are my ideal husband, I mean. You are ideal, in every respect, save one.’
‘You want to kiss me.’
‘I want to kiss you.’
‘I understand why it’s a problem. Is it an insurmountable one?’
Estelle frowned, twining her fingers together, remembering a rhyme that one of the kitchen maids had taught them as children. Here’s the church and here’s the steeple. ‘Phoebe had a passionate affaire with the man who trained her in Paris. We had a falling out over it. Fortunately she came to her senses. Do you think that we will do the same?’
‘Come to our senses, you mean? We have said all along that our undoubted mutual attraction is, to use your own phrase, an aberration for both of us,’ Aidan said, though his voice lacked conviction.
‘One we’ll inevitably grow out of,’ Estelle said, ‘when we leave Florence for the real world?’ Though right at this moment, she couldn’t imagine it. Despite the life-changing significance of their conversation, she was acutely aware of his every move, even when her mind was concentrating on other things.
Aidan sighed, shaking his head. ‘I want to agree with you, because I want you to agree to marry me, and the more we discuss it, the more it seems to me to be the perfect solution. But it’s too big a decision to leave room for regrets. We’re talking of a lifetime’s commitment, of our children’s lives, not only ours.’
‘I know. And don’t you think that because we want this so much, it will make it easy to set aside this inconvenient longing?’
He laughed. ‘You’d think so, but nature isn’t rational. Despite all we’ve talked about, and all that is at stake, all I have to do is look at you, and I want to kiss you.’
‘Then don’t look at me.’
‘Estelle, be serious.’
‘I am always at my most flippant when I’m at my most serious. I have a terrible habit of making jokes at the most important times.’
‘Do you mean you are considering my proposal?’
‘You haven’t actually proposed. No,’ she added hurriedly, ‘I beg you not to get down on bended knee just yet. I need to think.’
She tried to imagine herself packing up her trunks, leaving for Venice, leaving Aidan behind for ever. Would there be another man who came close to what she wanted from a husband? She was twenty-five years old—how many more years did she plan to waste on what was, in all likelihood, a fruitless search? He had been married before, married at a very young age, because he wanted to settle down and have a family. Solid proof that he wanted exactly what she wanted, and that he was that increasingly rare thing, a man committed to marriage. In the years since his wife died there had been no other woman. He hadn’t said so explicitly, but he’d been very clear that she, Estelle, had brought him back to life.
It was an accident, not an illness that had taken his wife. What kind of accident? she wondered, momentarily distracted. A carriage accident? Had this perfect but nameless wife of his fallen from a turret? There were bound to be turrets in the castle. More likely it was something very mundane. She was probably thrown by her horse. All of which was beside the point. Never mind the first Mrs Malahide, the question was whether she wanted to be the second?
She did. Very much. Eyeing Aidan from under her lashes, she felt something very like a pang of longing. Of course she would much prefer to be the first Mrs Malahide, but second was not necessarily second-best.
It was very tempting to simply discount her feelings for him. The kisses they had shared had never frightened her, but they were only kisses. Aidan had always ensured they were only kisses. But if Aidan was her husband, he would want more than kisses and frankly, the way she felt when he kissed her, she was pretty certain she’d want more than kisses too. And then where would they be?
She couldn’t risk it.
But she didn’t want to say no.
She really rather desperately wanted to say yes.
But she couldn’t say yes, unless...
‘Aidan, what if I was to think logically? What we need to do is—how did you put it—eliminate the variables.’
‘I’m not with you.’
‘Our inconvenient longing. We need to eliminate it.’
‘How do you propose to do that?’
Was it too much to expect? She had to ask or walk away. ‘Ban it?’ She grimaced. ‘I mean, agree to make our marriage platonic.’ Aidan’s jaw dropped, and Estelle began to panic. ‘I know it’s a lot to ask...’
‘It makes horribly good sense.’
‘I know. Do you think it’s possible?’
‘Do you?’
A platonic marriage with Aidan! Her senses screamed denial, but Estelle was determined to think with her head. ‘If it meant that we could both have our heart’s desire,’ she said staunchly, as much for her own benefit as his. ‘It would be a sacrifice worth making, don’t you think?’
‘Estelle, it would also mean that we would both be accepting that we would never have children of our own.’
‘Forgive me, I thought you had already accepted that.’
‘I had, but you...’
‘Until this afternoon, I had more or less given up on the possibility entirely. I’ve been trying to reconcile myself to the idea of teaching music, Aidan. Adopting is so much closer to what I have always wanted.’
‘But it’s still not the same as having your own flesh and blood.’
‘You have managed to reconcile yourself to that.’
‘There’s a big difference between having tried and failed, and never trying. Perhaps you need to take some time to think about it. Write to your sisters. Go back to England, talk it over with them. To make a decision like this without due consideration, would be unwise.’
More or less exactly what Aunt Kate had counselled Eloise to do. Her decision to marry Alexander had been discussed for weeks and weeks. But Phoebe had married in haste and in secret and, according to her latest missive, she was very happy. ‘It would take for ever for me to write home and wait on replies. You’re due back in Ireland in a few weeks. And what’s more,’ Estelle said, ‘you have just proposed to me without any sort of prior consideration at all. Besides, we are considering. We’ve been considering for the last hour. In fact it seems to me that we have been extremely logical and rational in making what most people would describe as a very emotional decision.’
‘Good Lord. Estelle Brannagh, are you saying that you are willing to consider accepting my hand in marriage?’
‘I’m saying that I have considered it, and—and I rather think I will accept.’
They stared at each other, struck temporarily dumb, before their smiles dawned, and they broke into laughter. Aidan got to his feet, helping her up, keeping her hands in his. ‘We should wait, consider for longer. It’s such a leap in the dark...’
‘I prefer to think of it as a leap of faith. I don’t want to wait. I’ve been waiting for years to get on with my life. Let’s start straight away, Aidan.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Let’s get married here in Florence. I’m sure it can be arranged. Lady Gertrude is not without influence and I’m sure would be delighted to help.’
‘Actually, I recently met someone on the diplomatic team who I’m pretty sure will expedite matters, if I ask him. Are we really talking about getting married?’
‘When we met today, I thought we were going to be saying our goodbyes.’
His fingers tightened on hers. ‘Instead we are welcoming a whole new chapter in our lives. Are you absolutely certain?’
‘I am, but I think it would be wise to wait a few months before contemplating adopting our first child. It will be an opportunity to accustom ourselves to each other properly in Ireland.’
‘Yes indeed. That makes excellent sense. We must take every step to ensure success.’ His smile tightened. ‘I never thought I’d get a second chance. I won’t let you down, I swear. I’ll do my very best to make you happy.’
‘I don’t doubt that,’ Estelle said, confused by the fervent note in his voice. ‘We’ve made each other happy, these last few weeks, I see no reason why that should change. We might be husband and wife, but we’ll still remain friends.’
‘The difficult part will be restricting it to that.’
She waited, but whatever debate he’d been having with himself seemed to have been resolved. His brow cleared, and above them, the sky had cleared to a brilliant blue, the few remaining clouds puffy white, like a child’s drawing. ‘We should go,’ Estelle said.
Aidan nodded. Their eyes locked, and she stepped closer to him, and though it had only been two days since they had last kissed on this very spot, it seemed like two months and she ached to kiss him again, and she could see her own wanting reflected in his eyes. Their lips met, lingered. And then they drew apart.
The Truth Behind Their Practical Marriage Page 8
