by Lisa Campell
“Andrew would not want this for me,” she said softly. “If he were here, he would stop you.”
Her father looked at her with hard eyes. She saw his hands clenched into fists and winced, anticipating a second attack, but he did not move.
“If he were here, you would not be.” Her father shook his head. “No amount of wishing can change that.”
Anna drew in a sharp breath, pained by his words. She knew he wished his children’s places were exchanged, he had said before, but it burned just as much as the first time he had said it.
“Will you accept him?”
The question was moot. Her father was really asking if she would save her mother. It took an army of doctors and specialists on rotation to attend to her various medical needs. Without financial support, she would surely perish.
“On one condition: You will take care of my mother. You will not gamble away her health with the money my new husband gives you.” Her voice caught on the strange word. Soon she would have a husband. “You will swear this.”
“I swear.” He spoke the words too quickly, his watery eyes darting to avoid meeting her own. She doubted him completely, but she had no idea how to make him care. “When will he come?”
“Tonight. You will be married in three days.” So soon. Her heart was weak with the immediacy of it, but she stood strong. “I have told your mother.” Anna nodded. At least she was spared that task.
“Well, I should have a conversation with her.”
Anna swept out of the room, walking quickly upstairs so that her father wouldn’t hear her tears. She rested against an upstairs door, letting her sobs fill the heavy, silent air. Their money problems had started the day that her elder brother Andrew died. Her father had walked into an alehouse and not come out for three days. Her mother was so worried she had taken to her bed. It had been five years, and Anna had been forced to run back and forth between the two, trying to mend something that she soon realised could not be fixed. In the last year, her father had held the estate together on a thread of promises and loans. Anna was tired of the humiliation, of lying to society, and asking the cook to stretch the side of beef as far as it could go. She was so deeply tired.
“Anna, darling? Is that you?” Her mother’s voice drifted to her from down the corridor. Anna rubbed her hand across the back of her nose, sniffling hard before making her way to her mother’s suite.
“Yes, mother?”
Anna’s mother sat up in bed, resting against a pile of cushions. Anna’s heart clenched when she saw her pale, drawn face and thin grey hair, braided into a neat plait. The years since her brother’s death had aged her - she looked like an old woman.
“Have you been crying?”
“No, mother.”
“Come, sweetheart, don’t lie to me.”
Her mother patted the bed beside her with a frail hand. Clearly, she was having one of her better days. Though her body seemed as weak as ever, her eyes were shining with some of their old interest and spark. Anna crossed the bedroom to sit on the embroidered quilt beside her mother.
“Papa told you?” she asked dully.
Her mother nodded. “This morning. He said he has made a fine match for you. You are unhappy with it?”
“The man, he … he is not -,”
Anna struggled with her words. How could she explain her fear and worry at being matched with such a disreputable man without potentially putting her mother at more risk? Doctor Graham, her primary physician, had been very clear about not putting additional strain on her mother’s nerves.
“He is not what I expected,” she finished lamely.
“Oh my dear, no man ever is!” Her mother smiled gently. “Every young girl feels trepidation before their wedding.”
“It’s not that I - I - don’t -,” Anna’s voice broke and she bit her lip. She stared down at her fingers as they twined together anxiously. “I - I don’t love him,” Anna whispered. “We always dreamed that I would marry and be in love and be happy, I don’t know him, I’ve never even met him!”
“Oh, Anna!” Her mother’s hands pressed against her trembling fingers, gentle but still strong. “I never expected that you would love your husband before your wedding.”
“You didn’t?”
Her mother laughed softly. It was not quite her twinkling laugh of full health, but the sound of it filled Anna with joy nonetheless. She couldn’t help but smile.
“No, darling. Even if a couple profess to love one another before they are wed, it is not usually true love, the love that comes from knowing a person deeply. It is usually a childish infatuation. Like how I felt about your father.” Her mother sighed deeply, her eyes drifting as she was lost in memories. “Love is a wonderful thing, Anna, it’s right that you want it for yourself.”
“What if I don’t feel it with him?” Anna blurted out. “What if we marry and I despise him?”
“Oh, darling. You must not worry about that. Every marriage is a step into the unknown.”
Her mother touched her face. Anna was overwhelmed by the gentleness of her mother’s touch and her tears fell even quicker. Her father had dropped the news of her marriage so quickly, she had not even really had a moment to consider how the dreams she had built in childhood, of meeting a man and falling in love, had fallen apart.
“I worry I cannot love a man like him,” Anna gasped. “With his … reputation…” Anna stopped herself from saying more. She didn’t want to upset her mother, but her mother batted away her concerns with a wave of her hand.
“Who a man is known to be and who a man truly is are two very different things, my dear. Do not concern yourself so much with reputation. You never know the truth of a man’s heart until you live with him in matrimony. Anna, look at me.” Anna lifted her blurry eyes to her mother’s face. “You must give him a chance. You must give love a chance.”
“Oh, Mama!”
Anna fell forwards into her mother’s arms, relaxing into the comforting scent of her: The strong, herbal tang of her balm of Gilead that she took for her nerves and the soft, warm smell of her cotton nightdress. Anna breathed deeply, her mother gently stroking her head until her breathing steadied. Her mother’s words comforted her deeply and she closed her eyes to rest a moment, safe, in her mother’s arms.
Chapter Three
Silas Klane stared up at the Willington estate, his keen eyes taking in all the features of it. It seemed well enough from the frontage, but there was an air of dilapidation about the place. It seemed that whilst Adley had been keeping up appearances in town, he had certainly let them slip at home. As he entered the once-great stately home, he noticed that someone had gone to effort to make it seem taken care of inside: fresh flowers stood in vases, and the light from the parlour was warm with the glow of a healthy fire.
“In here, sir.”
He was shown into the parlour. The Marquess was standing by the fire, looking worse than he had done the night before. Clearly the man could not stand his liquor.
“Marquess.”
Silas took a seat in a tall, leather-backed chair in the warmth of the fire’s blaze.
“Mr Klane.”
Adley didn’t sit, but simply stared into the fire, taking large gulps from a glass of port. Silas shifted, his irritation mounting. He was doing this old fool a tremendous favour by accepting his daughter, the least he could do was appear grateful, and perhaps offer him a drink! He knew there was every chance Adley’s daughter would not be a fraction as beautiful as the portrait had suggested, but Adley had been prepared to give him what he really wanted: his title. Silas would put up with a poor-favoured girl for that.
“Ah,” Adley stirred into life as footsteps were heard outside the parlour. “My daughter.”
Silas rose and turned, groaning inwardly at the farce he might have to play of actually pretending to desire this woman.
“Anna, this is your intended, Mr Silas Klane.”
Silas stared. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever lai
d eyes on. Her golden hair was as fair as angel feathers, her skin as soft and smooth as a pearl. Her form was exquisite, the simple white gown she had chosen only enhancing her natural loveliness. Even the frown between her soft, blonde eyebrows and the look of wariness in her leafy green eyes couldn’t detract from her innocent aura. Silas couldn’t understand how such a beauty as she had not been snatched up in marriage by a young duke or marquess years ago. He could only assume her father had blocked her prospects, kept her away from society as much as possible, knowing all along that his most valuable asset was his attractive daughter. Silas felt a twist of dislike for a man who would put his finances before his child’s happiness.
“Your servant, my lady.” Silas recovered himself and bowed slightly.
“Mr Klane.” She inclined her blonde head deferentially, then looked between him and her father, her eyes passing over the small tables beside them.
“You are in need of refreshment, gentlemen. Hanson.” She nodded authoritatively to the old servant behind her, and he disappeared. “I can offer you some Madeira, Mr Klane, or perhaps a little sherry? Brandy? I am sorry to say, we have no port.”
She threw a tense look at her father, who glugged the last of the port sullenly. Silas frowned. The glance Anna gave her father was not the look of an adoring daughter, but a wary, perhaps even nervous one.
“Brandy.”
“Father, for you?”
“Nothing.” The Marquess drained his glass and set in on the mantelpiece. “I shall leave you in my daughter’s capable care, Mr Klane.”
Silas was surprised at Adley’s attitude. Leaving the two of them alone was highly irregular, but he supposed Adley was keen to show Silas what he meant by completing giving over his daughter to him. He glanced at Anna. The girl didn’t seem surprised by her father’s decision to leave her and Silas noticed how she averted her gaze from her father’s as he left the room. He frowned to see a slight, purple bruise on her upper arm, partially hidden under her sleeves. If he didn’t know any better, he would have said that it was the unmistakable mark of a man’s hand.
“Mr Klane.” He took the glass of brandy offered by a servant. “Please, be seated.”
“After you, Miss Adley.”
She inclined her head elegantly and took the chair opposite him. The servant returned with a plate of small delicacies, fine cheese and crackers, and he watched as Anna thanked him graciously and murmured quiet instructions. Clearly, Adley’s daughter was the one keeping this whole shabby family together. She was not only beautiful, it seemed, she was also capable.
“You understand the terms of our engagement?”
She looked up at him slowly, a frank, assessing gaze that he found quite intriguing.
“Not entirely. Father was … not explicit.” Her voice was bitter and her gaze drifted into the flames. “But the bare essentials are simple enough, are they not? Me and my title - for his debt.”
“You don’t seem happy to be engaged.”
“Should I be?” Her green eyes were piercingly lovely. “I am merely a pawn in a larger game, am I not?”
“My word, you do offer your opinion readily for a woman in your position, do you not?”
She bristled at his words. “What position is that?”
“Alone. With a man. Who knows what a man might do with such a free-thinking young woman?”
Silas sipped his sherry, enjoying both the sweet taste and her obvious discomfort. She looked lovely when she blushed. He liked her astute, practical manner, too. He wondered how far he could push it.
“If you are intending to marry me, you could hardly be a threat to me.”
Her words were light but her eyes were wary. He didn’t doubt she had heard the rumours about him, all the dark and twisted tales. He decided to test her.
“Is that so?”
Silas smiled again, leaning closer, deliberately raising a hand to loosen his cravat. He saw the way she stiffened, forcing herself not to recoil. She didn’t move. These feminine signs of strength were strangely endearing to him. Careful, a dark voice at the back of his mind hissed, you know what happens to delicate flowers in your grasp - they break.
“You are right to be afraid.” He sat back, chuckling, watching the way her body softened with relief. “No wonder you are so enraged at your father.”
“I am not enraged!”
Despite her caution of him, he saw her green eyes light with fire. He liked it.
“You are. You see yourself as the lamb sacrificed on the altar of his folly, do you not?” His eyes drifted over her pure, enticing flesh. He enjoyed watching an indignant blush creep up her neck. He allowed himself to lean even closer, whispering words in a husky voice. “The virgin offering to the devil.”
Her green eyes widened. He couldn’t help smirk to himself. He liked to scare her, to play the role of the villain. It was much easier than dwelling on the way her scent was like sweet, heady perfume to him, or how he longed to feel her warm breath on his cheek. No, it was better this way. It was better she was afraid. Then, she would not be hurt.
“Well, if that is the case, do tell me, what does the devil offer the virgin in the return?”
It was a daring question from an innocent girl, yet she had spoken the words with her head raised, her glassy eyes fixed on his. She was still afraid, he could see it in the way her creamy bosom rose and fell, but she was also defiant. She was going to be much more interesting to him than he might have hoped before.
Chapter Four
Anna stared at the devilish man across from her, forcing her voice to sound calm and confident. She had asked a question and she was afraid of the answer, but his lingering gaze and silence were much worse, so she repeated her words, “How do you think our marriage will benefit me?”
Mr Klane leaned back in the leather, brushing his fingers distractedly across his full lips. He was unhelpfully handsome. He was nothing like she had expected, thinking he would be an uncouth, low-class dog snarling and barking demands at her. Instead she was face to face with a dark, cunning, enchanting creature - with all the lure and danger of a dragon. Something about him compelled her to speak honestly and truly. It was as if his lack of decorum dissolved her own.
“Well, there is the obvious. A woman of your age needs a husband and now you have one -,”
“That is not specific to you,” Anna interrupted. “I assure you, I am not short of offers from other gentlemen.”
This was not completely true. Anna had admirers. She had been the belle of several balls in her younger years. Yet in the last year or two interest had waned, reflecting her family’s falling fortunes. Gentlemen looked at her with admiration, citing her as a model of decorum and a guide post for young ladies entering society, but they did not beg for her first dance anymore. However, there was no need for Mr Klane to know that.
He laughed. Anna noticed the way his cold smile deepened with fascination. She tried not to be distracted by the alluring, sharp line of his jaw, his handsome, white teeth.
“My, my,” he murmured, “you are somewhat impetuous, aren’t you?”
She blushed under the perusal of his dark eyes but refused to answer. He really was a rogue. He took out his cigar and lit a match. It was not polite to smoke in front of a lady, but Anna did not think he cared.
“Benefits, well, let me see.” He crossed his ankles lazily, leaning back so that the leather squeaked. “You will live comfortably.” He gestured around her home as if it were squalor, and her hackles raised.
“I live well enough.”
“You deserve better.” She was surprised by his words. She looked into his face for signs of mockery, but there were none. Only his dark eyes and a thumb, slowly running up and down the cigar. He saw her look and smiled. “A beautiful bird deserves a lovely apiary, does it not?”
Or to be set free, Anna thought bitterly to herself, but couldn’t bring herself to say it. A second, smaller voice whispered quietly: He finds you beautiful.
“My count
ry estate, Fallenbrook, shall suit you. My sister lives there.”
“You have a sister?”
“I do.” He blew smoke out of his mouth. “I intend for her to enter society this year with your guidance.”
“That seems like a benefit to you,” Anna pointed out, glaring. “Babysitting a young girl is hardly going to help me.”
“Well, you have not met her.” Anna wished he wouldn’t look so devilishly attractive when he grinned. “Well, if that is not a benefit, what of children? I hear most ladies are quite urgent about their need to be mothers at your age.”
