A Marriage 0f Convenience_Historical Regency Romance

by Janet Woods

  Grace had been on the road for about an hour when she began to tire. The mist had crept higher and her pace decreased. She began to wish she’d stayed in bed as she entered the wooded area. When she emerged on the other side and her feet found the depression of many carriages in the earth, she sighed with relief. Her feet had carried her to the main highway. Up ahead, floating in the mist like a ship on an unearthly sea, were the lights of a distant inn – one she remembered as occupying a prominent position on Bourne Heath.

  ‘Thank goodness,’ she whispered and seated herself on a grey stone marker while she debated whether to return to King’s Acres or go on. The marker had an arrow pointing back towards the house. She traced her finger over the indentations in the stone between her calves and ankles. LéSayres Hall. Three leagues. A rapid calculation gave her a conversion to one mile. She seemed to have been walking forever without covering much ground.

  There was the pad of a footfall and a pebble rolled to give a muffled clink against another. The moon disappeared and the mist thickened around her. A shiver crawled up her spine. She had the feeling she would touch somebody if she held out her hand.

  ‘Is anyone there?’

  Silence greeted her enquiry, except a hedgehog ambled across her path with a rolling motion. She smiled as she nudged it with her toe. ‘It’s you giving me a fright, is it?’

  The creature curled into a ball. Not surprising, since, though it was a peaceable creature it carried formidable armour in its prickly jacket to call on if needed. After a safe time passed it found its feet again and ambled off along its way.

  So did Grace, though she was beginning to be scared by the enormity of the step she’d taken. There could be a murderer hiding behind every bush just waiting for a fool like her to rob. Not that she had anything worth robbing. She did have her ned inside her pocket though, and the weight of that was reassuring as her hand closed round it for a few seconds.

  As she neared the inn noise came to her, an ebb and flow of raucous laughter, a foul expletive and something being smashed. Horses fretted.

  Perhaps she should go back. But whatever she decided, she must rest for a short time. Wrapped in her cloak she found a stunted tree and sat in its dark shadow, with her back against the trunk and the cowl covering her face. The mist enveloped her and although it was cold she felt safer now she couldn’t easily be seen. After a while she grew warmer, and, turning on her side, she rested to regain some of her energy.

  She became alert some time later, reminding herself not to fall asleep, in case the cold carried her off. Her body ached, but her energy had returned thanks to Eugenie’s chicken broth. The hairs on her neck prickled when she heard breathing. Obviously they didn’t mean her any harm, else they would have taken advantage while she was resting. Perhaps it was a fox. The breathing stopped when she hissed, ‘Who are you?’

  ‘Sam Rider. I’m sorry, Miss Ellis, I mean you no harm so don’t you be afeared.’

  ‘Have you been following me?’

  ‘The earl thought you might do something like this and he told me not to allow you to take any of the horses, but to stay with you and keep you out of harm’s way. I promised I would. I slept outside your door, and you almost tripped over me when you left.’

  ‘I thought I’d tripped on the rug. Why didn’t you make yourself known earlier?’

  ‘I didn’t want to raise the household and I didn’t think you’d get this far. I thought you’d return to the house and raise a rumpus trying to get back in. It’s a cold night.’ Removing his heavy coat he placed it back around her shoulders. ‘It will give you more protection from the cold than your own cloak and I have my leather jerkin on.’

  Grace wasn’t sure if she liked Lord LéSayres being able to read her so well.

  ‘I’m sure the earl didn’t intend for you to follow me all the way to Oakford House on foot. You frightened the life out of me.’

  ‘Sorry, miss, I didn’t mean to give you a fright. I had a look at the inn while you were resting. There are Dorset Yeomen volunteers in there, three of them, and they’re as tight as ticks. We need to avoid them.’

  ‘Is it the brigadier and his companions?’

  ‘I don’t think so, miss. They’re not proper soldiers, and are wearing blue jackets with black trim. They don’t appear to be the soldiers Mr LéSayres is expecting, just locals looking to make a name for themselves. There is a price on the brigadier’s head.’

  Any thoughts Grace might have harboured about returning to the safe haven that was King’s Acres were forgotten. ‘They might be the renegades. It matters not, since we must try to warn the earl and Mr LéSayres of their position. We have no horses so must hurry.’

  ‘Leave it to me, miss. I’ll borrow one of their horses, and scatter the rest of them. That will give us a clear start while they round them up.’

  ‘I thought you were told not to touch the horses.’

  ‘His lordship meant the estate horses, not those belonging to the Yeomen.’

  A convenient display of male reasoning, she thought.

  ‘Will you wait for me here and look after my coat? It will hamper me if I have to run.’

  She placed a hand on his arm. ‘What if you’re caught? Be careful, now, Sam they’ll probably shoot you if they catch you.’

  He grinned. ‘Don’t you fret, Miss Ellis. They won’t even know I’m there.’

  ‘They’ll hear the horses.’

  ‘There are ways and means, miss, and I always carry sugar lumps in my pocket. Horses will do summersaults for a piece of sugar.’

  Grace gave a muted giggle at the thought of such an unlikely and comical act.

  There was a shout from the inn, ‘Put your hat on the bar and sing us a song, Hal.’

  ‘Diddle dum dee,’ someone else called out.

  Hal didn’t need much prompting. A fiddle began to play, feet stamped time on the floor and his raucous voice sang out:

  An ’andsome young maiden named Dora,

  diddle diddle, dum

  raised her skirt higher than she oughter

  diddle diddle dum

  For the fiddler to cheer and admire

  diddle diddle dum

  The parson did troth them, but true

  diddle, diddle, doo

  ‘Louder gentlemen … let’s wake the dead in the cemetery.’

  The singing took on a new tone with different voices competing. It was out of key for a few verses except for the chorus, which collected the loudest cheer no matter how many times it was repeated. And no wonder, Gracie thought, grinning at the gusto with which the last rollicking few lines attracted:

  And now to his light-of-love the fiddler sings,

  come straddle my saddle and fiddle with me

  and I’ll dance with you darling on diddle dum dee.

  The place erupted into whistles, diddles, dums and daddles, and tankards were thumped on the table with bucolic gusto. There was a swell of noise when they shouted with one voice, ‘More … more!’

  Sam said, ‘Good, they’ve only just started to get warmed up. There’s a splintered tree up the road a ways. I’ll meet you there … lessen you want to return to King’s Acres. Reckon I could get you into your room without too much trouble, and nobody any the wiser. You know, the earl will ring a peal over you, and I expect Mr LéSayres himself will give you a tongue-lashing after he went to all that trouble to keep you out of harm’s way. As for me, I daresay I’ll get a clout or two … or worse. The soldiers might hang me for stealing a horse. They might hang us both.’

  Shame filled her.

  Grace couldn’t imagine Dominic being angry enough to take her to task, but then, she’d never so blatantly ignored his instructions before. A mountain of guilt tightened her stomach into a knot. Dominic’s feelings would be hurt, but surely he wouldn’t allow the soldiers to hang them.

  ‘We will only borrow one horse. By the time it’s missed nobody will hang us since we’ll just say we found the horse wandering and we was bringing it
back to the inn. The earl might dismiss me though.’

  Gracie was tempted to abandon her plan for a moment. Then her resolve strengthened. She would be earning enough money as a clerk for both of them. ‘If he does I’ll employ you.’

  Gracie’s nap had replenished her energy and she stepped out purposefully, leaving the noise of the inn behind. Sam went in the opposite direction.

  As promised, Sam was waiting along the way for her, and astride a stout farm horse. He didn’t give her time to feel nervous, for she’d never ridden on such a large animal before, except for Argus of course, and Dominic was a more solid figure to cling to than the flimsy Sam, who seemed to be perched on the horse like a flea on a dog’s back.

  ‘Come on up then.’ He reached down, and, grasping his wrist, she was swung up behind him. He waited until she adjusted the cloak so it covered her legs and tied the ends together to keep it snug.

  ‘Keep a tight hold of me,’ Sam said, ‘and tell me if you feel you’re slipping.’

  ‘Where are the other horses?’

  ‘I removed their saddles and left them and the horses in a field not far from the inn. I’ve scattered them a bit and one or two might make their way to the forest. They’ll be safe there, but easily found when daylight comes. The saddles are easy to find. We’ll be safely at Oakford House by then. This one will find its own way back to its companions. Horses like company.’

  The horse had a good turn of speed, in a lumbering sort of way and was an easy ride. Sam kept it at a comfortable canter so as not to unseat them, or tire the beast. They covered the ground quickly, with Grace clinging to Sam’s slight figure, which she found to be surprisingly sinewy and strong. In his turn he used the animal’s flowing mane as a rein. The raw night stung their cheeks as the hooves of the horse thudded on the hard-packed ground beneath them.

  Eventually Sam brought the animal to a halt, slid down from its back and helped her down. He gave her some sugar to reward the horse with and its tongue rasped over her palm, all gritty and moist. The animal rumbled with pleasure and took a last lick.

  ‘We walk from here,’ Sam said. ‘It’s only a mile or so to Oakford House. Give me five minutes to take the horse to the highway and point him in the right direction, then I’ll come back for you. Just sit on this stone and don’t move.’

  It was a cold seat, and one she couldn’t recall as seeing before. There was a moment of hesitation in Sam. ‘If I don’t come back you must make your own way, but wait until it’s light.’

  ‘Don’t come back … why shouldn’t you come back? Sam, don’t you do anything that’s likely to harm you.’

  But Sam was gone.

  After a good ten minutes, Grace began to fidget. Only a mile or so, he’d said. How long was the ‘or so’ part? She gave a wry smile. Her behind would have blisters upon the blisters after that ride. Gazing around her in the rustling darkness she fancied there were some lighter patches, and tried to get her bearings. He’d gone off to their left … to Oakford House.

  It was the longest few minutes Grace had ever experienced as she sat in the darkness. A fitful breeze sprang up, the noisy squabbles and sudden rattles of brittle winter foliage made her jump. It brought with it the faint, piquant odour of the mud flats when the tide was out and the market vendors calling loudly, ‘Cockles and mussels alive, alive oh! Fresh oysters, crabs and eels.’

  She became uneasy as the minutes ticked by, and something disagreeable clawed at the back of her mind. What landmarks were there within a mile or so of Oakford House?

  She could be anywhere in this rising mist. Near to Mudeford perhaps. It was a well-named spit of muddy land that supported the inn of Betty Bunce, and it was just the place for someone like her. Or was she in Lymington? Everything looked different at night. If Rafferty Jones married Betty to claim the inn it would be out of greed, for she was the most unlikeable woman Grace had ever met. Though, like the cat, she had never really met her. Raff didn’t display any strong feelings towards her, and certainly he didn’t seem to love her. Still, Betty carried Raff’s infant inside her, and who was she to pass judgement on others, especially people she hardly knew. Many people made a marriage of convenience.

  Haven’t you decided to do the same thing, you hypocrite?

  That’s different.

  How?

  I don’t know. It just is. To start with, Dominic is a married man with a family. If I stay with him someone will tell his wife so she is bound to find out. That would bring shame down on her.

  Dominic’s stepmother was in the same position, and she wasn’t regarded as shameful.

  Will you please stop mixing me up … go away.

  You will need to eat, and Lady Florence has been kind to you. She wants her nephew to be settled and she wants you to be settled. Marriage is the only way to get out of this predicament and still have sufficient means left over to support yourself.

  I’ll tell Dominic the next time I see him. He’ll understand.

  She was beginning to shiver and was wondering what had happened to Sam when she sensed rather than heard another person. She stopped breathing and her fingers closed around the ned in her pocket. ‘Is that you, Sam?’

  A tantalizing smell of lime soap teased her nostrils and her sense of unease crumbled as she whispered, ‘Dominic, thank goodness it’s you,’ and her eyes teared up. ‘Where’s Sam?’

  ‘I made him a bed on the chaise longue in the housekeeper’s sitting room. It’s next to the kitchen so if he leaves the door open he will be warm. The other bed chambers are locked, except for the one I’m using.’

  She forgot her resolve. ‘It wasn’t Sam’s fault. Your brother told him to look after me … are you very angry?’

  ‘I’m absolutely seething, my dear.’

  He didn’t sound it.

  ‘I told Sam to keep an eye on you, not clatter around the countryside with a herd of stolen horses in the dark, waking everyone up. First it was my brother with the local Dorset Yeoman volunteers in tow – a villainous-looking bunch of weasels who headed for the nearest inn at my brother’s expense and who are still there, I imagine. Alex and his man are sequestered at Rafferty Jones’ cottage. Now I’m dragged from my bed to rescue you again.’

  ‘You don’t sound as though you’re seething,’ she said practicably. ‘Where’s Rafferty Jones?’

  ‘Fishing … or so I’m told.’

  ‘For fish or for brandy?’ she asked.

  Laughter huffed from him. ‘I wouldn’t hazard a bet on that one. But I haven’t finished complaining yet.’

  ‘Then please do and forgive me for interrupting.’

  ‘I’d just got back to sleep when Sam came rattling at the door. He told me he’d left you sitting on the lid of Lady Florence’s resting place. And here you are, enthroned. All this for a signature on a paper.’

  He made it all sound so trite. Her blood ran cold as she imagined the grisly scene under her. No wonder she’d felt so uneasy. ‘I’m on Lady Florence’s grave? I’m sorry to put you to so much trouble, Dominic, truly I am.’

  The sigh he offered sounded heartfelt. ‘Woman, you are beginning to be a damn nuisance.’

  His answer brought a nervous scrape of laughter from her and she reached out an arm. ‘Where are you?’

  There was a change in the atmosphere, a disturbance, and the impression of a warm breath against her cheek. He was close … too close for comfort but not close enough. Her fingers touched against his skin, found his mouth and followed the curve. ‘I need to tell you something.’

  He kissed her palm. His thumb anchored her chin while his fingertip was a whispery stroke along the parting of her lips. ‘So tell me, my precious.’

  Inner sense told her this wasn’t the time to remind him he had family commitments, after all, he only had a limited supply of good will, and she had the feeling she’d used most of it up.

  The warmth of his body began to draw her cold one towards him. It didn’t surprise her that they fitted together so well. His arms
supported her and his thighs snugged hard against her core and captured him in a shockingly intimate embrace she couldn’t have escaped from, even if she wanted to.

  She didn’t want to. The embrace they were in was tender. His arms were strong, and warm and her face rested comfortably on his shoulder. There was just a heartbeat between them, a steady, warm pulse that beat in tandem with hers. She couldn’t resist taking a small lick with the tip of her tongue. A faint fragrance of limes drifted about him, and she sucked in a deep breath, which was noisier than she meant it to be, so she followed it up with a sigh and, ‘I like your smell.’

  Her behind, which was almost attached to the stone edifice was decidedly cold, and getting colder by the second.

  Laughter huffed from him. ‘Are you going to eat me or inhale me?’

  She would like to do both.

  ‘Am I rewarded with a kiss for the rescue? I’ll be gentle.’ His breath stirred through her hair and he didn’t wait for an answer. He tipped up her chin and took possession of her mouth. There was more than one method of kissing, she learned over the next two or three minutes, and all of them were delightfully tender – and deadly.

  There was a sense of something begun but not finished when Dominic released her, and this wasn’t the place to remind him of it. ‘Now … what was it you wanted to tell me?’

  Tell him you are going to marry the brigadier to save your reputation … go on, you know you want to.

  What shall I say?

  Give him the truth straight from your heart. Take courage from me. Don’t think and on the count of three: one, two, three …

  She blurted out the first thing that came into her head.

  ‘I love you.’

  He took her by the hand, laughing. ‘Tell me something I don’t know. Come on, Gracie girl, you’re cold and have barely recovered from that beating. We both need some sleep, and without Lady Florence looking over us … or should that be, under us?’