Rags-to-Riches Bride

by Mary Nichols

  Halfway there she noticed the chapel door was open and went to investigate. Richard was standing in the middle of the room dressed in an impeccably tailored evening suit, a white shirt and a blue cravat, almost the exact colour of his eyes. For a moment he did not speak, he was engrossed taking in the sight of her: the flushed face, the smoky blue eyes, the red-gold hair, glinting in a shaft of the dying sun coming through one of the windows, the soft folds of the embroidered dress that emphasised a perfect figure. Oh, how he loved her!

  ‘I am sorry,’ she said. ‘I saw the door was open. I did not mean to intrude.’

  ‘You are not intruding. I was just locking up.’

  ‘You said once you knew almost everything about me. I did not realise at the time that you knew even more than I did myself. You could have warned me.’

  ‘I wanted to, but the old lady was adamant that she would tell you herself. She is a mischievous old dear and wanted to keep the suspense going as long as she could while everyone speculated about your identity. Please forgive me.’

  ‘I do. I wish I had not been so hard on you when you have been so kind to me. I am sorry I made you take back your gift; it was unpardonably churlish of me.’

  ‘Will you accept it, if I give it back to you?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’

  He took her shoulders in his hands and looked down into her face. The anger had gone, but she was still not happy. ‘Diana—’ He stopped suddenly.

  She looked up into his face alerted by his tone and held her breath. He smiled ruefully. There were other issues to be resolved before he could declare himself. ‘I think we should return to the party, don’t you?’

  She moved away from him, wondering what he had really intended to say. Whatever it was, he had balked at saying it. She found herself looking down at the portrait of the child, whose red-gold curls and blue eyes told their own story. If Richard married anyone, it ought to be the mother of his child. She could never come between them. ‘Yes,’ she said, knowing nothing had been resolved and probably never would be.

  When they entered the ballroom, they soon realised that the dowager was present with James. He was laughing, his face was flushed and his blue eyes were unusually bright. ‘Oh, no,’ she murmured, hurrying to join him. ‘Papa, how are you?’

  He looked at her and grinned. ‘As sober as a judge.’ He looked up and saw Richard behind her. ‘Good evening, young fellow.’

  ‘Good evening, sir. Welcome to the family.’

  ‘Thank you. What a shock it was! But now I have what I most wanted for Diana, a real family of her own. Aside from a good husband, that is. She tells me the wedding is off.’

  ‘It never was on,’ Diana said, squirming with embarrassment.

  ‘Does not matter now, does it?’

  ‘No.’ She looked up as Lord Harecroft approached them. ‘James, I have a new filly in the stables. Would you like to look her over?’

  ‘I do not know anything about horses, except they have a head and four legs,’ James said. ‘I am a naval man, not a soldier. Give me a ship of the line and I will soon tell you her worth.’

  ‘Oh, then we shall have to educate you,’ William answered cheerfully.

  James excused himself and followed his host through the crowds to the door. ‘Do you think he will be all right?’ Diana asked.

  ‘Oh, I think you may stop worrying now, my dear.’

  My dear, he had said, and he had once called her sweetheart. Did it mean anything at all to him? Did he not realise, that a new-found family and wealth meant nothing when her heart was in a thousand pieces? She was about to move away from him when a footman came hurrying towards them.

  ‘Mr Richard,’ he said, ‘there is a young lady at the kitchen door. I believe she has come from the dower house. She asks to speak to you most urgently. She says her little boy has run off and she cannot find him.’

  ‘The little terror! Tell her I will be there directly. Do you know where Mr Stephen is?’

  ‘I am not sure, sir. I think he was in the garden.’

  ‘Find him and tell him to join me at the dower house.’ He turned to Diana. ‘Please excuse me.’ And with that he was gone.

  Diana stood looking after him with a heavy heart. There was no doubt who had first call on him in any situation, and whoever married him would have to accept that. She turned to find John standing beside her. ‘Where have Richard and Stephen gone?’ he asked. ‘I haven’t seen either of them all evening.’

  ‘I do not know where Stephen is. Richard was here a moment ago, but left. He was needed at the dower house. The little boy has disappeared and he has gone to help look for him.’

  ‘I am surprised at Richard allowing that woman to take over his life as she has,’ he said. ‘I am glad Stephen is more sensible.’

  ‘Mr Harecroft,’ she began. ‘I expect Stephen has told you—’

  ‘That you have turned him down. Yes, he has, and I must say I am disappointed. We all are. You would make him an excellent wife and with our pooled resources…’

  ‘I am sorry, I do not know what you mean.’

  ‘My dear, your father is a wealthy man, able to give you a generous dowry; with that and your talent for business, we could have expanded even further. We could be one of the largest concerns in the city.’

  She was shocked by his mercenary attitude. ‘Mr Harecroft, how long have you know who I really am?’

  ‘I guessed almost from the beginning. My grandmother was so adamant that you must be taken on, I knew there was something behind it. I had heard the story about the missing Harecroft when I was a boy; I remember Grandmother talking to my father about him and it stuck in my mind. I decided to make my own enquiries. After all, if you were one of the family, it made sense to encourage Stephen to marry you. Not,’ he added quickly, ‘that he needed encouragement.’ He paused. ‘I hope you will change your mind and accept him after all.’

  She was astounded and angry. Just how much more would she discover today? ‘I am sorry you are disappointed, sir, but I shall definitely not change my mind. Now if you excuse me, I must look for my father.’

  She hurried away. James had been with Lord Harecroft in the stables, she learned from a groom, but they had left some time before. She went to the barn where the sound of music and laughter told her that the lower orders were enjoying themselves. In spite of the hardships they had to endure, she envied them. She went in, looking for her father, pushing her way through the mêlée. Dawkins caught her by the wrist. ‘Come to join us, have you?’

  ‘I am looking for my father.’

  ‘Again? He’s a great one for slipping through yer fingers, ain’t he?’ He knew nothing of her new rank as one of the family and treated her like the superior servant he supposed her to be.

  ‘Have you seen him?’

  ‘No. No doubt he is enjoying himself somewhere. Let him be. Come on, dance with me?’ He grabbed hold of her to drag her into the centre of the floor. She pulled herself away and fled.

  Papa must be out here somewhere. He had probably taken a bottle to enjoy in privacy. But where? Desperately she searched the gardens and outbuildings, then tried the chapel, but Richard had locked the door to that. She set off towards the path through the woods. She needed to calm herself, to try to think. Just how much did her new status mean? Would it mean losing her independence? Did it make any difference to how she felt about Stephen and Richard? Did it make her feel any differently about Lucy Standish and the little boy? It did not. On the other hand, it would mean that her father would be looked after, watched over, eventually cured. Did you ever cure a love of alcohol? She had lived with the problem long enough to doubt it. If it was poverty and loneliness and frustration that had brought it on, would wealth and being given something to do within the family see an end to it?

  Although it was not yet dark, the woods were gloomy and there were strange noises and rustlings that reminded her of Richard’s ghost story. She was glad when she found herself on the path beside the bro
ok. Halfway across the bridge, she stopped to lean over the rail and look down into the water. The ghost story was nonsense; it would be difficult to drown oneself in so little water. A child might…Dear God! Dick! She looked about her. All was still, there was no sign of disturbance and surely he could not have come this far on his unstable little legs.

  Then she heard the sound of a child’s giggle and then a man’s chuckle. Neither were ghostlike. She crossed the bridge and ran along the bank. Hidden by a hawthorn bush there was a gently sloping beach and there, sitting with their feet in the water, were her father and Dick. They were laughing at some paper boats James had made and set off along the sluggish current.

  ‘Diana,’ James called to her, speaking more clearly than he had done since he had had his seizure. ‘Come and join us, we are racing our boats.’

  ‘Papa, how could you?’ She scrambled down beside them. ‘Everyone is searching high and low for the little boy. His mother is worried to death about him. You should not have brought him here, especially without telling anyone.’

  ‘I didn’t bring him, I found him here.’

  ‘Then why did you not take him straight home?’

  ‘I did not know where home was. I joined him in his paddle to gain his confidence so he would tell me where he lived, but he doesn’t talk much.’

  ‘Of course he does not. He is only two years old.’

  Her anger evaporated. She realized that although her father had seen the little boy when they went to the races, no one had mentioned where the child and his mother lived.

  ‘Now where are his shoes and stockings?’

  She looked about her and spied a pair of tiny stockings and one small shoe. ‘Where is the other shoe?’ she asked.

  ‘I don’t know. He had them off when I found him.’

  She squatted down beside the boy. ‘Dick, where is your shoe?’

  ‘Paddle,’ he said, giving her a wide smile.

  ‘Yes, I know you like to paddle, but it is time to go home now.’ She held the shoe out to him. ‘Where is the other one?’

  He pointed to the brook.

  ‘In there?’

  ‘Gone.’

  She kicked off her own shoes, pulled her skirt up between her legs and waded into the water. It was only a few inches deep, but the bottom was muddy and she was stirring it up with her feet. ‘It’s hopeless,’ she said. Turning to go back, she tripped over something unseen in the mud and fell forward onto her knees. Spluttering angrily, she scrambled to her feet, while both her father and Dick, sitting together on the bank, burst into delighted laughter. She tried to wade towards them, overbalanced and sat down in the water. It was impossible to remain serious; she found herself doubled up with laughter and it was then her hand went out and connected with the lost shoe. She held it up and waved it in the air. ‘I’ve got it.’

  Her laughter stopped suddenly when she looked up and saw Richard and Stephen, accompanied by Lucy, crossing the bridge at a run towards them.

  Lucy reached them first and scooped her son up into her arms. ‘Just what do you think you are playing at?’ she demanded. ‘What have you done to him? If you have harmed a hair of his head, I’ll…’ Before anyone could do anything to stop her, she set the boy down and rushed at James and would have hit him if Stephen had not grabbed her arms and pinioned them to her sides.

  ‘Stop it, Lucy, Dick is quite safe,’ he said.

  James looked bewildered. ‘I have not harmed the boy,’ he said. ‘I found him here.’

  ‘It’s true!’ Diana had scrambled from the water to defend her father. ‘Dick might have fallen in the brook and drowned if my father had not come upon him.’

  ‘Oh.’ Though her anger had abated a little, it was too red hot to subside altogether.

  ‘Yes. I was going to bring him back to you. When you arrived, I was looking for his shoe, which he had seen fit to throw into the water.’ She thrust it into Lucy’s hand, picked up her own shoes and ran back over the bridge and along the path, hampered by her wet clothes. Richard caught her up before she had gone very far, reaching out to take her by the shoulder and stop her.

  ‘Where are you going?’ He turned her to face him and held her at arm’s length while he looked her up and down. The beautiful dress was ruined, covered in mud and weed. Her hair had come down and was wet and bedraggled. There were spots of mud on her face.

  ‘Back to the house.’

  ‘Like that?’ He was smiling. ‘Have you any idea what you look like?’

  She resented his amusement, even though she had been laughing herself a moment before. ‘Yes,’ she retorted, ‘a half-drowned rat.’

  ‘Half-drowned perhaps, but not a rat, never a rat. A kitten, if you like. Or a water nymph, a green water nymph.’

  ‘Oh, I am sick to death of your silly jests. Let me go. I shall have to creep into the house by the back way.’ She stopped suddenly. ‘Or shall I present myself in the ballroom like this? That would give them all something else to talk about, would it not?’

  ‘Now you are being silly. Come back to the dower house. Lucy will find you hot water to wash and something to wear, before you return to the Hall. I want to talk to you.’

  ‘There is nothing to talk about. We have said it all. Your son is safe and you should be grateful to my father, not grumble at him. And before you say a word, he is cold sober.’

  ‘I was not going to say anything of the sort. Neither was I grumbling at him.’

  ‘Lucy was.’

  ‘She was distraught. Turn round and look.’ He took her shoulders and, even though she resisted, turned her about. Stephen had Dick on his shoulder, steadying him with one hand while his other was about Lucy’s shoulder, holding her close to his side.

  She stared at the trio. ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘No, because you jumped to the same conclusion as everyone else and like everyone else you were wrong. I am not Dick’s father, Stephen is.’

  She felt like a deflated balloon, as if someone had punched her in the ribs and knocked all the breath out of her, and for a moment she could not speak. What was he saying? What did it mean? And then she was angry, very, very angry. ‘You knew I had made a mistake,’ she rounded on him. ‘I even spoke to you of your son when I first arrived and you said not a word to correct me. That was wicked of you, downright wicked.’ She broke away from him and tried to run, but, hampered by her wet skirt, she had not gone far when he grabbed her again.

  ‘Come to the dower house and, after you have changed, I will tell you the whole sorry story.’

  ‘No. Let me go. I have had enough revelations for one day.’

  ‘I said I wanted to talk to you and I will talk to you, even if I have to tie you down to do it, but if we stay here much longer you will catch a chill.’

  ‘Do you care?’

  ‘Oh, my dear, how can you ask that?’ He stroked her wet hair back from her face with gentle fingers. ‘Of course I care. Can you doubt it?’

  ‘You have given me no reason not to.’ Even as she spoke, she knew that was not true. Some of the time he had been the only one who did care. He might have had a strange way of showing it, but it was there, all through their relationship, in London when she was visiting her father, on the journey down when he went to endless pains to make sure she was comfortable, fetching her father out of that dreadful tavern and keeping his shame a secret from everyone. He was good at keeping secrets, was Captain Richard Harecroft. Her anger still simmered but she was beginning to shiver with cold. He took off his jacket and put it round her shoulders, proving yet again that he cared.

  ‘Why did you not tell me about Stephen and Lucy?’ She allowed herself to be led away.

  ‘I thought he ought to do it.’

  ‘Why didn’t he? If he loved Lucy so much, why propose to me?’

  ‘Mama and Papa had been telling him for some time that he ought to settle down with a nice little wife who would be a helpmate in the business. He dare not tell them the truth; an actress would mos
t definitely not be considered suitable. But I knew he loved her and, given enough encouragement and a reunion with Lucy, would stand up to Papa in the end, but I dreaded you accepting him.’

  ‘Oh, I see.’

  ‘No, you do not see. I care for my brother, just as I care for my parents and the dowager, I care for Lucy and Dick and everyone who is unhappy for whatever reason, but I care most of all for you. You are my life.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  Still confused, she walked beside him back through the woods, dark as night now, but she did not hear the squeaking and rustling, only her own heartbeat and his murmured words. ‘I mean I love you, Diana Bywater. Dry and wet, I love everything about you.’

  Her joy was unbounded. He loved her, just as she loved him. But there were still so many questions and the only one she could think of was, ‘You never said so.’

  ‘I thought you might have guessed. When I kissed you. You must have felt something…’

  ‘I did. I discovered I loved you.’

  ‘You never said so,’ he repeated her words.

  ‘I could not come between you and Lucy.’

  In front of them Stephen and Lucy walked with their son, behind them ambled her father, who had put on his own shoes. ‘How did you know we would be down by the brook?’ she asked suddenly.

  ‘We searched for Dick everywhere, in the garden, the park, even the chapel, wondering if he had been shut in there accidentally. We searched the barn, where the party was just breaking up. We even went back to the Hall, though I could not imagine he would go up there. Lucy was convinced he had been kidnapped or worse, and when one of the villagers said he had seen a little boy with a man down by the river, you can imagine how she felt. I am sure she is sorry she shouted at your father.’

  They had arrived at the dower house. She was ushered inside and conducted up to Lucy’s bedroom where a bath was filled with hot water by Freddie and Joe. ‘I am sorry I was so angry at your papa,’ Lucy told her. ‘I know he probably saved Dick’s life. I have told him so and he is downstairs now, regaling the men with how it happened, drinking hot chocolate.’ She went to a cupboard and brought out a simple gingham dress and from a drawer produced a set of clean underwear. ‘Will these do? I think we are much the same size.’