“You mean the late Earl of Lichfield.”
His eyes hardened. “In May, I prepared the Last Will and Testament for the late Earl of Lichfield and at that time he confided that he was urging his son to marry. The cost of the upkeep and restoration of Shugborough weighed heavily on his mind. Since the earl had no wealth, he pressed his son to contract marriage with an heiress.”
Harry felt her mouth go dry.
“Anson refused his father’s advice and it became a bone of contention between them. In June, Lichfield changed his Last Will to read that if his son wished to inherit Shugborough, he must wed an heiress before his father died.”
Thomas and I met in June at the Crystal Palace. Her throat tightened.
“Anson was determined to control his father, whose health was deteriorating rapidly. They fought on a daily basis and by July, Lichfield had no choice but to prepare a signed affidavit stating that his son would be disinherited unless he wed a wealthy wife.”
It was July when Thomas told D’Arcy that Trixy was mad about him. Harry had difficulty swallowing. “I warrant you cannot wait to show me the signed affidavit.”
“It was stolen from my files along with the Earl of Lichfield’s rightful Last Will and Testament.”
Harry’s lip curled in contempt. “A likely tale.” Why would he tell me this unless it was true? Cold fingers squeezed her heart.
“I have every reason to believe Thomas Anson broke into my office.”
Harry raised a defiant chin. “What is your purpose in telling me these things?”
“I wanted you to know what sort of a man you married, Lady Lichfield.”
She gave him a pitying glance. “My husband and I have no secrets. He made it quite plain that we must marry before his father died. Thomas legally inherited the Lichfield title and Shugborough Hall and that is all that matters, Mr. Fowler. I bid you good day.”
The carriage jolted and Harry came out of her trance. She realized she was riding in a hackney cab. She didn’t recall leaving the attorney’s dank office or what address she’d given the driver. She wished she didn’t remember the things Fowler had said, but unfortunately every syllable he had uttered was indelibly etched in her mind.
She wanted to scream her denial, but she was suddenly remembering things that made denial difficult. When she’d asked Thomas why he’d told D’Arcy that Trixy was mad about him, he had replied: “Because I couldn’t let him marry you, of course.”
Harry’s thoughts flew back to the time she’d asked Thomas why he was courting her. His answer echoed in her head: “You are the daughter of wealthy nobility.”
She remembered the night they signed the marriage contract, and how surprised she was at his astuteness in negotiating that everything from Shugborough be returned. Then he had declared: “I’ve made arrangements for us to be married at St. George’s Chapel tomorrow at five o’clock. I’m sorry everything has to be rushed.”
Harry thought about the night he came to Hampden House to propose marriage.
“I have no intention of declaring my undying love.”
Her hand went to her throat. I truly believed that Thomas loved me. She was devastated to learn that he did not. He married me to secure his inheritance. Shugborough means more to him than anything or anyone in the world. How could I have been so gullible?
As Harry sat in the swaying carriage, she could feel her heart breaking.
When the hackney stopped at 15 St. James’s Square, Harry paid the driver and walked listlessly into the house. She climbed the stairs slowly to her private sitting room, put the letter back in her writing desk, and sank into a chair. Her thoughts were in turmoil, her emotions were in chaos, and her happiness was shattered. For the first time in her life, Harry did not know what to do or say. She was so overwhelmed with sadness and disappointment, and so afraid of what she might learn, that she knew she could not bring herself to confront her husband.
“Are you cold, Lady Harry?”
She blinked. “Rose, I didn’t hear you come in.”
“Let me take your hat and coat.”
Harry stood up and allowed Rose to remove them.
“Since dinner at Montagu House will be hours away, I’ll get Clara to prepare you a substantial afternoon tea.”
She shook her head. “No, thank you. I have no appetite today.”
Rose gave her an odd look, and put some coal on the fire. “I’ll let you rest.”
Hours later, Rose found Harry sitting in the same chair. “I laid out your jade velvet gown and everything else you’ll need.”
“There’s no hurry.” Harry glanced at the window and saw it was dark outside. How long have I been sitting here? Thomas could be home any minute. I must get ready now. I don’t want him to find me half-dressed. “I want you to help me, Rose. We must hurry.”
Harry sat before her mirror in her corset and petticoat, absently brushing her hair.
“I believe you have some lovely hair ornaments that match your gown.”
“Never mind, Rose. I can’t be bothered with such things.” She heard a footfall on the stairs. “Quick! Help me into this dress.” She held up her arms while Rose lifted the gown over her head and settled the folds over her voluminous petticoat.
“Hello, darling.” Thomas closed the distance between them and dipped his head to kiss her. She turned so that his lips brushed her cheek. “You’re already dressed.” His face fell with disappointment.
“I thought it would save time. Lady Montagu is a stickler for punctuality.” She smiled brightly. “I’ll wait for you downstairs.”
Chapter Twenty-two
At the Montagu party and through all the entertainments leading up to Christmas, Harry was her usual sparkling self, but when she was alone with her husband, either in the carriage or at home, she became quiet and withdrawn. She avoided intimacy whenever she could with the excuse that she was tired, yet she accepted all invitations and even went out on the nights her husband was at home.
Thomas sensed something was wrong. On the few occasions they had made love lately, her response wasn’t the same. She held herself back from him and took no joy in their coupling. He watched her carefully and soon realized that the laughing, witty persona she affected in company was a brittle facade. When they were at home, she took off the mask and withdrew into silence.
On the day before Christmas, Thomas helped his wife into the carriage. They were on their way to spend the festivities with Harry’s family at Campden Hill. He thought that his wife looked unusually pale today. “Are you feeling all right, darling?”
“I never felt better.” She tucked her fur against her throat and gazed out the window.
“Is something wrong, Harry?”
“Of course not. It’s Christmas, the most exciting time of the year. My family loves and adores me, and I’m married to an earl of the realm. What could possibly be wrong?”
“When we’re alone, you seem distant and withdrawn.”
“Nonsense; it’s simply fatigue from all the season’s festivities. Please, don’t concern yourself with some imagined problem.”
There was a problem, and it wasn’t imagined, but Thomas bit his tongue. He didn’t want to upset her at Christmas. In spite of the fact that she said she felt well, her paleness disturbed him, and his common sense told him that something was ailing her. If she wouldn’t confide in him, he hoped she would discuss it with her mother.
At Campden Hill, all the men went out to cut the Christmas tree. Thomas joined Abercorn, Lord John, D’Arcy, and young James, home from Oxford. After they set up the tree, the ladies and the younger children had great fun decorating it, and Thomas saw that Harry joined in. She seemed to be enjoying herself, though she was a bit subdued.
Harry spent her time with the children, reading to them and then putting them to bed. Thomas took her mother aside. “Have you noticed how pale Harry is? She insists she feels well, but I’m worried about her.”
“She’s spent hours with the children tod
ay. Perhaps she is practicing.”
When Thomas took her meaning, his heart soared. “Perhaps you are right, but she hasn’t said anything.”
“A woman usually keeps her secret until she is sure. Don’t worry, Thomas; she’ll tell you in her own good time. I’m speculating about Trixy—she’s plump as a partridge.”
Harry sat in the darkened nursery long after the excited children hung up their stockings and had at last fallen asleep. She had avoided her husband’s company by surrounding herself with the little ones. Their obvious love made her feel less vulnerable.
Knowing that Thomas had married her to secure his inheritance was deeply humiliating. Harry’s pride had been dealt a mortal blow, and her self-confidence had deserted her. When she looked in the mirror, she found the image that looked back at her unattractive. She appeared pale and listless, and her eyes had a haunted look. Harry lived in dread of her family learning the truth of why Thomas had married her. The last thing she wanted was pity, so she had put on a false face of gaiety and laughter when she was in their company.
What a naive fool I was to go about telling everyone I needed proof that Thomas loved me before I would accept a proposal of marriage. She closed her eyes. Perhaps there’s no such thing as love. She shook her head sadly. She knew that wasn’t true, because regardless of how her husband felt, she loved Thomas with all her heart.
She had avoided intimacy as often as she could because she was terrified of her wanton response to him. She often pretended sleep when he came to bed, because his touch set off a wildfire of desire. If he knew how much she hungered and longed for his love, she would be mortified.
Music from downstairs floated up to her, and she knew the Yuletide carols had begun. She straightened her shoulders and went below to join in the festivities. Harry was relieved when the ladies decided to retire and the men stayed up to talk politics and enjoy a couple of drinks together, without reproachful looks from their spouses.
Christmas Day was taken up with presents, a huge feast, and sleigh rides around the lake. The entire family joined in the merriment and Harry was never alone with Thomas.
The next morning when it was time to leave, the duchess invited her married daughters to stay at Campden Hill until New Year’s, while their husbands returned to London. Thomas encouraged Harry to stay. A few days apart might be just what his wife needed, and he thought she would benefit from time spent with her mother and sisters. He kissed her good-bye and promised to return for the New Year’s Eve fireworks.
The following day, when Louisa and her three oldest daughters were alone, Trixy confided that she might be having a child. Harry was relieved that all the attention was focused on her sister. All the talk was centered on symptoms, cravings, weight gain, and babies, babies, babies.
Trixy explained that she had no intention of telling D’Arcy until she was sure. She was uncertain of his reaction and needed her mother’s assurance that he would be happy about becoming a father.
“All men look forward to begetting an heir, and if it turns out to be a girl, they welcome the chance to try again,” Louisa told her daughters. “How about you, Harry? Any secrets to confide?”
Her hand went to her throat. “Secrets?” Then she realized they were still talking about babies. “No, no, I’m not having a child.”
“Good!” Trixy declared. “I don’t want you to steal my thunder.”
On New Year’s Eve, D’Arcy arrived, but Thomas did not. Harry found her emotions were between the devil and the deep. She was relieved that business must have prevented him from joining them, yet wistful that he did not rush from London so they could celebrate their first New Year together. He showed up the next day with profound apologies, and on the ride home, Harry lapsed back into silence.
Thomas gave his wife time to unpack and refresh herself from the journey. Then he joined her in her private sitting room. He schooled himself to patience, but knew he was dangerously close to the end of his rope.
“Are you feeling all right, darling? Please tell me what’s wrong.”
“There is nothing wrong.”
Thomas exploded. “Damn it all, Harry, there is something terribly wrong! It is a brand-new year, and I intend to start it with a clean sweep. If you think I’m going to carry on allowing you to withdraw from me, you are deluding yourself. What the hellfire happened to that audacious, outspoken baggage that gave as good as she got? I married an impulsive, reckless creature with a voracious appetite for life. I want her back!”
She jumped to her feet, goaded by his words. At last her anger ignited, and her temper flared, turning her pale cheeks to bright pink. “I deluded myself, all right! I actually believed you married me because you loved me!” She rushed to her writing desk, pulled out the letter, and thrust it at him. “I had no idea you married me to secure your inheritance. I was blissfully ignorant!”
He tore the letter from the envelope and read it. “Fowler!” He laughed bitterly. “Knowing human nature as I do, I should have expected the vindictive bastard would need to slake his revenge for being dismissed. Where’s the other letter?”
“I didn’t wait for another letter. I suspected it was from your father’s attorney. I found out his name was Martin Fowler and went to see him.”
“Why the hell didn’t you come to me?” he demanded.
“I wanted to hear for myself what he had to say,” she said defiantly. “He informed me that your father swore out a signed affidavit to disinherit you unless you married an heiress before he died. It was like a knife in my heart to learn the real reason for the rushed wedding.”
“Oh, Harry, no wonder you’ve been so unhappy.” He wanted to enfold her in his arms and take away her pain, but he feared she would recoil from him. “Sit down, and I will explain everything.”
She sat, desperately wanting to hear him refute Fowler’s accusations.
“My father never stopped hounding me to marry an heiress, as he had done, for the upkeep of Shugborough. He wed my mother, went through her fortune, and brought her nothing but unhappiness. I vowed I wouldn’t follow in his footsteps, and told him so.
“Then I met you, Harry, and you stole my heart. I didn’t want him to know anything about you, so when he ordered me to find a wealthy wife, I told him to go to the devil. It infuriated him when he couldn’t control me, and as a way to force me to his will, he signed an affidavit to disinherit me.”
“Why didn’t you confide in me?” She raised her chin. “I trusted you, implicitly.”
“Confide that I was being coerced to marry an heiress? I think not! When your father offered me your dowry, I refused it, and told him to put the money in your name.”
“I didn’t realize that.” She was momentarily disarmed. “But you cannot deny you negotiated that my father return everything he bought from Shugborough.”
“I don’t deny it. I freely admit how significantly I benefited from that, but I knew how much you loved Shugborough, and believed it would make you happy if the books and paintings were restored.”
“You should have taken me into your confidence. If I’d known you had to marry before he died to secure Shugborough, I would have agreed.”
“Harry, I didn’t need to marry to secure my inheritance. The laws of primogeniture would have prevailed. The choice to marry you was mine alone.”
“Then why did you have to break into Fowler’s office and steal the signed affidavit?”
“I refuse to be blackmailed!” His face was hard, dark, carved in stone.
“Tell me the truth, the whole truth, Thomas. I don’t want secrets between us.”
His dark eyes searched her face as he calculated how much he could tell her. He decided to take a chance and reveal some of the truth.
“My father died an hour before we were married. I vowed that I would not allow his death to ruin your wedding day. Your happiness meant everything to me, so I kept it from you until the next morning.”
Harry was astounded by the revelation. Even if he h
ad done it to protect her, it was still an act of deception. “Thomas, I am not a child who needs to be shielded from reality. I am a woman and want to be treated like one.” She was still unsure whether he was being completely honest with her. He said he’d lost his heart to her and had wed her from free choice, but could she believe him? “I want no more secrets between us. From now on, I want the truth.”
“More than anything, I want you to believe that I married you because I love you. That is the truth, Harry, and I will do my utmost to prove it to you from this moment forward.”
“I lost my trust in you.” She raised her chin and said coolly, “Don’t expect me to fall into your arms until it is restored.”
I will woo you relentlessly and win back your heart.
Harry awoke late the next morning. She felt disheartened when she saw that the bed was empty. But a moment later, Thomas arrived with a breakfast tray, and her spirits lifted.
He set the food before her and drew her hand to his lips. He placed a kiss on each finger, then opened her palm and dropped a kiss inside it. He folded her fingers upon it to catch and hold it. “Enjoy your breakfast. I’ll see you tonight.”
As she was brushing her hair, she found a note on her dressing table. She picked it up and read it. The words astonished her:
My only love, you enthrall me. Your image is before me day and night. Your loveliness haunts me. I have an unquenchable thirst for you. When I hear your voice, it fills me with joy. When I see you across a room, I have to draw close to you. When I am close to you, I have an uncontrollable need to touch you. When I touch you, I become wild with desire. From the hour that we met at the Crystal Palace, I loved you. And today I love you more than yesterday.
The Dark Earl Page 29
