A Matter of Choice

by Laura Landon

  Allison knew better.

  They bustled about, chattering like happy magpies while they helped her get ready for her special day.

  One made a last minute adjustment to her hair while another checked that each tuck and pleat and ruffle on her dress lay perfectly. The third picked out just the right flowers for her gown and her hair. Together they decided on the necklace and ear bobs that would go with what she wore.

  She only wanted to be left alone. She didn’t want to be reminded of the monumental step she was about to take or the enormous mistake she was undoubtedly making. But none of them would hear of leaving until everything was perfect.

  Finally she was ready. They gave her a last perusal and declared her the most beautiful bride of them all. Then, they looked at each other nervously and ordered her to sit down.

  She thought she would die when they informed her that since their mama was not here, they considered it their duty to enlighten her as to what to expect on her wedding night.

  “Don’t be squeamish,” Mary volunteered, her cheeks flushed with a deep blush. “It’s terribly discomfiting, but it’s something we all have to tolerate.”

  “Just concentrate on something else, a new gown you want or a new bonnet you’ve had your eye on. I always reward myself the next day,” Phoebe announced, as if being the oldest and having been married the longest gave her special insight.

  “And whatever you do, lie still and keep your eyes closed until he’s finished,” Mary added as if she’d suddenly forgotten the most important part. “Your husband will think you’re no different from a common trollop if he suspects you enjoy it.”

  “If you’re lucky,” Tess added, crossing her fingers as if making a wish, “he’ll plant his seed in you right away and you won’t have to suffer the embarrassment too many times.”

  “And never allow your husband to see you unclothed,” Phoebe added as an afterthought.

  She stared at her three sisters in shock. Was this truly what it was like between a husband and a wife? Was letting a man hold you, kiss you, be intimate with you truly so horrible? It hadn’t been when Montfort had held her. When he’d kissed her.

  The deafening silence in the room brought her attention back to her sisters. Phoebe looked to Mary, then to Tess, as if needing to be reminded of what else they needed to tell their younger sister. “And don’t be afraid,” she said in a very matter-of-fact manner. “It’s only painful the first time. After that, it’s just uncomfortable.”

  “And be sure the room is totally dark,” Tess added, chewing her lower lip. “It’s ever so much worse when you can see him…his…” She took a deep breath and finished her sentence on a shaky sigh. “Well,…when you can see.”

  She fought to keep from being sick. Surely it couldn’t be so horrible? Surely it couldn’t be such a dreaded part of marriage? She couldn’t bear it if it were. She wrapped her arms around her middle and hugged tight.

  “Oh, look,” Phoebe said, rushing to put her arms around Allison. “We’ve scared her to death. She’s as pale as a ghost.”

  “Don’t be afraid,” Mary said, trying to comfort her. “You will learn that that part of marriage isn’t very important at all. It’s just necessary to produce an heir or two. And if you’re lucky, Montfort will keep his mistress for the other times he feels the need.”

  No!

  Her blood pounded in her head. Surely Mary wasn’t serious.

  “What would half of the women in Society do without them?” Tess said on a laugh.

  It was Mary’s turn to add her opinion. “I don’t even want to venture a guess. Pity the poor women whose husbands can’t afford to keep someone on the side.”

  Phoebe laughed. “At least I know my dowry went for a good cause.”

  No!

  Allison’s heart thundered in her chest.

  She jumped from the stool where Mary had been putting the last flower in her hair. “Stop it! All of you! Doesn’t it bother you that your husbands aren’t faithful? Don’t you care that all of Society knows the man you married would rather sleep in someone else’s bed than his wife’s?”

  Her sisters’ cheeks turned bright red as their jaws dropped.

  “You can’t let that bother you,” Phoebe answered timidly for all of them. “To let your husband come to your bed so often is not proper. No well-bred married woman allows it. Besides, how can you stop your husbands from taking their pleasures elsewhere?”

  Allison swiped her hand through the air. “I don’t know, but I’d make an effort to find out.”

  Three pair of eyes stared at her as if she’d grown a second head.

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Mary said.

  “Just wait until you’ve been married awhile,” Tess said.

  “You haven’t even gone through your wedding night,” Phoebe said.

  “All I know,” Allison answered as calmly as she could, considering how badly she shook from head to foot, “is that I will do everything in my power to satisfy my husband both in my bed and out. How can you go through life holding your heads high while all of London knows where your husbands are sleeping? How can you pretend you don’t hear the whispered comments and ridicule because your husbands all prefer someone else’s bed to yours? How can you pretend you are the happiest wives in England when everyone knows you are not? You can’t be!”

  Silence settled around them like a thick London fog.

  For ever so long, no one spoke. Phoebe was the first to recover, the first to make an effort to defend herself. “You don’t know yet, Allie. You don’t know what it’s like to watch your husband leave your bed and not know what to do to get him back. To know it’s not really you he wants in his arms. To know he can’t wait until he’s done his duty by you so he can spend the rest of the nights with another woman.” She swiped at a tear that spilled from her eye. “Your marriage will be no different. None of our husbands came with half the reputation as a rake and womanizer as the man you are marrying.”

  Allison felt the air leave her body and reached out a hand to steady herself.

  “If you are lucky, though,” Tess added, with tears running down her cheeks, “you’ll be smarter than we were.”

  Allison was ready to hear Tess warn her not to marry Montfort, but she didn’t. She gave her a warning even more impossible than that.

  “You won’t let yourself fall in love with the man you marry,” she finished. “You won’t let yourself care that he prefers someone else to you. Or you won’t go to bed each night praying that this will be the rare night he comes to you, even though you’ve done your best all day to convince him you don’t want his attentions. That you don’t need them.”

  Tess brushed a tear from her cheek before she added, “Or that maybe, just this once, he’ll fall asleep when he’s finished, still holding you in his arms. And you’ll get to lie next to him for at least a few hours.”

  “If you are truly lucky,” Mary said, her voice thick with emotion, “you’ll be able to hide how much it hurts to know your love will never be returned. We’ve all gotten quite adept at it, don’t you think?”

  Allison looked from one to the other. “How can you live like that?”

  “What choice do we have?” Phoebe asked.

  “Surely there’s something you can do. Some way to fight for the men you married.”

  Mary shook her head. “If there is, none of us know what it is. It’s not at all proper to encourage a husband’s attentions. If we did, we would be no different than the women they visit when we refuse them.”

  Tess brushed a finger across her damp cheek. “It would be different if we’d started our marriages loving our husbands and they loving us. But we didn’t.” She hesitated. “And neither are you.”

  She couldn’t breathe. This wasn’t how she wanted to start her marriage. Wasn’t the way she wanted to spend the rest of her life.

  “My marriage will be different,” she said, trying to sound more confident than she felt. Failing mi
serably. “Lord Montfort has promised—“

  Phoebe stopped her sentence with a laugh. “Don’t you know, they’ll promise you anything. Until they get your money.”

  She didn’t want to believe her. Couldn’t believe her.

  On legs that barely held her, she turned away from her sisters and took a shaky step toward the door.

  “Oh, Allie,” Phoebe said, rushing to her and pulling her into her arms. “We’re sorry. Truly it isn’t so bad. We didn’t mean nearly any of the things we said. We’re just three old married ladies complaining about nothing. It’s really wonderful. Being married is so romantic. Really it is.”

  “Yes, Allie.” Mary grabbed her hand and held it. “Being married is just grand. We should have only told you the best parts instead of all the rest.”

  “Never mind us,” Tess said, with sadness in her eyes. “This is your wedding day. You’re supposed to be happy. We never should have been so open with you. We should have told you just what mama told us.”

  “And what was that?” she asked, looking at each of her sisters, not sure she really knew them. “What did Mama tell you on your wedding day?”

  The three sisters looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders. Finally Phoebe spoke for them. “Nothing. Just that we’d find out soon enough. I guess that’s what we should have told you, too. But we didn’t want you to walk into it blind like we did.”

  She nodded, then stepped away from them. She had to get out of here. “I need to be alone for a while. Tell David I’ll be down shortly.”

  Tess took a step toward her. “Are you all right?”

  She wanted to laugh, but was afraid if she started, her laughter would turn into tears. Instead, she nodded and took another step toward the door.

  Mary reached out and touched her arm. “We’re sorry if we said something we shouldn’t have.”

  Her head felt light, her hands cold and clammy. How could she go through with this? How could she walk into the same trap each of her sisters had, knowing once she said the words, there’d be no turning back?

  She turned away from them and fled the room. She raced down the hallway until she could go no further, then turned the knob to the last door on her right. She slipped inside the dark, unused chamber and leaned against the closed door.

  With her eyes squeezed tight and her blood pounding in her head, she struggled to keep the weight that pressed against her chest from suffocating her.

  No matter what, she wouldn’t let her life end up like her sisters’. She wouldn’t let her husband keep his mistress. She wouldn’t be the object of ridicule and gossip.

  She walked to a chair pushed against the wall by the window and lifted the dust cover from it. With a heavy sigh, she sat down. She knew sitting on her silk moiré gown would wrinkle it, but that didn’t matter. Her legs weren’t steady enough to support her any longer. She and Lord Montfort had made a bargain. He’d put her terms in writing and they’d both signed it with witnesses present.

  She vowed by everything she held sacred, she’d never give him cause to leave her bed. She had done everything possible to protect her dowry and her future.

  The only thing it was too late to protect was her heart.

  +++

  Joshua stood in the small circle that included Allison’s brother, three brothers-in-law, Chardwell, and the minister who would perform the ceremony. He stood relaxed, while focusing his gaze on the open doorway. He would not rest easy until he saw her.

  Allison’s sister-in-law, Lady Hartley, played the perfect hostess, making sure all the men had a glass of excellent brandy. She would no doubt offer the ladies a glass of wine as soon as they arrived. Her husband, the Earl of Hartley was an expert host. Conversation flowed smoothly, the small gathering never at a loss for some topic to discuss.

  Joshua had liked Hartley the first time he’d met him. He admired his intelligence as well as his straight forward manner. And he was impressed by the way he truly cared for his sister. What surprised him though was that he also liked his future brothers-in-law. He hadn’t expected to.

  He’d never had business dealings with any of them, so had never formed an opinion, other than the negative one Allison had given him. But he found each of them pleasant to converse with, and unique in their own way. He wondered what kind of women they’d married. How like Allison the three sisters were.

  Just then, they entered the room.

  Allison wasn’t with them.

  He moved his gaze from the empty doorway to the three sisters. Their excitement was obvious, yet beneath their enthusiasm, he noticed tiny frown lines etched on their faces, as well as the frequent glances they shared. A wave of unease sharpened his senses, alerting him to some unknown problem he knew involved Allison.

  The ladies came toward them and Hartley made the introductions. The circle opened to include them, and, instead of staying with her sisters, the oldest of the three, Lady Fortiner, went to stand by her husband. His reaction was one of surprise, as if his wife’s nearness was not something he was accustomed to.

  “Is everything all right?” Fortiner asked as he took a glass of wine from a passing servant and handed it to his wife.

  “Yes.”

  But Joshua thought he noticed a slight hesitation in her answer.

  Of the three sisters, she looked the most like Allison: her hair the color of burnished brass; her eyes the same vivid blue; her coloring the same creamy perfection. Lady Fortiner didn’t seem as tall as Allison, nor as perfectly filled out, but she was a beauty nonetheless.

  She took a sip of wine, then, with her free hand, entwined her fingers with her husband’s and held them in the folds of her skirt. The puzzled look on Fortiner’s face showed his confusion, but he did not pull his hand away. If anything, he stepped even closer to nestle his wife’s shoulder against him.

  “Is Lady Allison nearly ready?” Tiny pinpricks of unease stabbed at Joshua and refused to leave. The troubled glance Lady Fortiner cast at each of her sisters stung him anew.

  “Yes. Nearly.”

  “She just needs a little time before she joins us,” Lady Hanbury added. The hesitancy in her voice was obvious. She moved close to her husband, Viscount Hanbury, who seemed equally as perplexed by his wife’s attention as Fortiner.

  Joshua experienced an emotion that bordered on alarm. What if she’d changed her mind? What if she refused to marry him? Graystone Manor would be lost to him forever. Bloody hell. What more did she want from him? He’d already agreed to everything she’d demanded. “I would like a word with her before the ceremony,” he said.

  The three sisters looked nervously from one to the other. Finally, Lady Fortiner nodded. “I’m sure her maid, Emma, can take you to her.”

  Lady Hartley called for the maid and Joshua followed her up the stairs to a room at the end of the hall. He nodded his dismissal and slowly turned the knob on the door.

  No candles lit the room. For a few seconds, he thought the maid must have been mistaken. He didn’t think Allison was here. Then he saw her—seated in a chair by the window, her back ramrod straight, her hands clasped in her lap. A look of regret on her face.

  “This is hardly the place for a bride, my lady. You should be standing in the bright sunshine so the light can reflect off your beauty.”

  Slowly, ever so slowly, she turned to face him. Her gaze contained a frightened look, as if she were about to go to the gallows instead of her wedding.

  “Do you wish to change your mind?” she said. “It is not too late.”

  Her question startled him. There was no softness in her voice, no trepidation. Not even the hint of meekness. She’d asked the question as matter-of-factly as she’d ask the milliner if there’d been a mistake in her bill. It was not a plea, but an ultimatum. A last-minute demand for him to tell her if he had changed his mind. An opportunity for him to back out now if he intended to, if he couldn’t meet the terms of their agreement.

  “I would not be here if I had, Allison. There has never
been a pistol pointed at my head.”

  “Hasn’t there?”

  He smiled. “Perhaps, but you weren’t the one holding the gun.”

  She turned her head and stared ahead. He wondered what she saw. There was nothing there except an empty wall without even a picture to break its bareness.

  After what seemed an eternity, her shoulders lifted.

  He took the steps necessary to reach her and stood before her, his feet planted wide. She had no choice but to lift her head and look at him.

  “Are you waiting for me to give you the same option?”

  “Would you give it?”

  Her voice lacked any sign of hopeful expectancy. He was glad.

  “No. We are both here because we have no choice.”

  More silence stretched between them. Finally, he heard her sigh of resolve.

  He did not move, but stayed so close it was impossible for her to rise from her chair. “I have already given my word that yours will be the only bed I share. In a few minutes I will swear before God and man to plight you my troth. I can’t do more than that, Allison.”

  “Is that all there will be to our marriage?”

  “Only time can answer that.”

  Their gazes locked and held. With far more confidence than he felt, he held out his hand and waited for her to take it. She did.

  Her touch was warm. Her small hand a perfect fit in his larger one. As if it belonged there.

  As if she belonged there.

  +++

  “Joshua Camden, wilt thou have this woman to thy wedded wife, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honor, and keep her in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?”