“Very wise, too.” Lady Glenkellie cast one more glance over Clarissa before obviously dismissing her and turning her full attention to Diana. She seemed to like what she saw, because she glanced at Alex and smiled. “Do you attend the Balford ball on Friday, Lady Diana?”
“I don’t believe we have been invited, my lady,” Diana said in a small voice, looking nervously at Marianne.
“I shall ensure you receive an invitation. The Duchess of Balford is a particular friend of mine.” Lady Glenkellie nodded imperiously.
“That is most generous of you, my lady.” Marianne curtseyed again, and Diana and Clarissa followed her lead.
The dowager marchioness looked back at Marianne and blinked, almost as though she had forgotten her presence. “Yes. Well. I daresay we shall see you there, shan’t we, Alexander?”
“I look forward to it greatly,” Alex said, with a smile at Marianne.
“You should ask Lady Diana for a dance now. No doubt she will be swarmed with eager young swains before you get a look in, otherwise.”
Alex gaped at his mother in surprise. She’s got entirely the wrong end of the stick, he thought. “Ah... yes,” he said, caught out by the unexpected manoeuvre. “Lady Diana, might I request a dance with you at the Balford ball?”
“The first dance,” his mother pushed.
Diana looked at Marianne, wide-eyed. Marianne nodded encouragingly.
“I should be honoured, Lord Glenkellie,” the girl said shyly, blushing scarlet.
“Excellent. I take it we will not have the pleasure of your company, Lady Clarissa?”
“I regret you are correct.” Clarissa smiled at him, apparently a little less shy than her older sister. “Balls are quite out of the question for me this year, I’m afraid.”
“It is Society’s loss.” Alexander bowed his head to her. “In that case, Lady Marianne, might I solicit the honour of your hand for the second dance?”
Marianne looked utterly startled. Diana and Clarissa looked quite delighted, and his mother - his mother turned to him with her mouth wide open with shock.
“Alexander, what are you doing?” she demanded.
“I am asking a delightful lady, whom I consider to be a good friend, to reserve me a dance at a ball we will both attend,” Alex said, trying to sound calm and placid, as though dancing with Marianne wasn’t one of the most desirable things he could imagine.
“Well,” Marianne said uncertainly. “I had not intended to dance...”
“But Aunt Marianne, you keep telling us how much you miss dancing!” Clarissa said, and Alex shot her a grateful glance. The minx gave him a conspiratorial wink, and he bit back a shout of laughter. She, at least, knew precisely what he was about.
“I do miss dancing.” Marianne nibbled on her lower lip briefly before giving a decisive nod. “I am my own woman these days, beholden to nobody else’s good opinion of me. Very well, Lord Glenkellie, I should be delighted to give you the second dance at the Balford ball.”
Alex couldn’t restrain his smile of triumph. With a kiss to Marianne’s hand, he followed his mother from the Havers box and back around to the other side of the theatre, knowing once they were away from prying ears, the interrogation would come. The Dowager Marchioness of Glenkellie missed nothing.
“What are you thinking!” his mother hissed as soon as they were once again seated in their own box. “Wasting your time asking that woman for a dance!”
“Why is it a waste of my time?” He raised his eyebrows at her.
“Because you need someone to give you an heir, and in eight years of marriage, she didn’t conceive once.” Lady Helena pursed her lips and shook her head.
“Mother, Creighton had three wives and none of them ever conceived. Does that not suggest perhaps the fault might not be with the wives?” Alexander had taken the time to research the late earl once he arrived back in London, and been horrified by what he found. Both Countesses of Creighton prior to Marianne had not lived into their thirties, their deaths unexplained.
The suggestion gave his mother pause. “Best not to risk it, nevertheless,” she said. “You should choose a girl from a family of proven breeders. One of those younger Creighton girls will do nicely, if you want to ally yourself with the family; there’s a whole pack of them, I believe, though they’re mostly girls.”
“They’re children, Mother.”
“You’re barely ten years Lady Diana’s senior!” Still, she frowned when he just looked back at her. “You are quite set on her, then?”
“If she will have me.”
“She’s a fool if she won’t.” The dowager marchioness snorted magnificently, looking back across the theatre to where Marianne sat talking with her nieces, now rejoined by Thomas and Arthur. “She’s very beautiful, I suppose,” she said, “but how well do you really know her?”
Alex smiled. “Do you remember my letters home, from Portugal and Spain?”
“Indeed I do, infrequent though they were.” His mother tapped him on the knee with her fan. “I was constantly trying to convince you to leave the army and come home where it was safe, but your letters were full of how you were making a difference out there.”
“And?” he pressed. “Do you recall anything else I said?”
“Oh, there was some nonsense about how you couldn’t bear to come back to England because the girl you were in love with had thrown you over and married some wealthy old earl...” the marchioness tapered off, her eyes widening. “No. You don’t mean her?”
“The Honourable Miss Marianne Abingdon,” Alex said wistfully. “We were both young and naive, and while she promised to wait for me, her father’s gambling debts were such that a valuable asset like a daughter hailed as the most beautiful girl in London wasn’t to be wasted on the likes of me, fourth in line with naught but an army commission to my name.”
“Oh Alex.” Lady Helena’s eyes were soft as she laid her hand over his. “She didn’t throw you over, did she?”
“No, but until recently I thought she had. Instead it transpires she was basically sold to a man three times her age and spent years in a desperately unhappy, even abusive, marriage.”
“The poor girl, how perfectly dreadful!” His mother sounded quite outraged on Marianne’s behalf. “I was one of the great beauties in my day, too, and my father was outraged I ‘threw myself away’ on a younger son, but he would never have forced me to marry someone I did not want!”
Lady Helena was the daughter of a duke, and her dowry had been more than substantial. Even though his father was the younger son, Alexander had always known there would be a substantial inheritance in his future. He’d also always known his parents loved each other. Indeed, he suspected his mother had become more difficult since his father’s death mainly because she missed her husband so. Lord Patrick Rotherhithe had always indulged his wife’s slightest whim.
“I love her,” Alex admitted, knowing his mother was now firmly on his side. “I’ve always loved her, and I want no one else for my wife. Unfortunately, after her terrible marriage, she has decided she prefers not to remarry.”
“Then we will simply have to convince her otherwise, won’t we, darling?” Lady Helena patted his hand and smiled. “You just leave it to me.”
“I’d really rather not.” He winced, thinking of the chaos his mother might engender with her machinations.
She laughed, unfazed by his lack of confidence in her. “Young men do like to do their own wooing, I suppose. Well, I will spend my time filling her ears with tales of how wonderful my marriage was, and how like your father you are.”
“That would be very helpful, Mother,” Alex said sincerely.
“You are, you know.” His mother reached up and touched his cheek gently. “Very much like him. He’d be very proud - and so would your grandfather, if he’d truly had the chance to know you. Don’t hold Duncan’s dying words against him. He was grieving for both his sons, you must remember. He pored over every newspaper account of the battles you fou
ght in, and every time you were mentioned in dispatches or bestowed with a medal, he would give a toast in your honour at dinner.”
“He did?” Startled, Alex blinked. “I didn’t know that.”
“You never had much chance to know him, being away at school, then university, then the army. I wish you’d known him better.” His mother looked back across the theatre at Marianne. “I think he’d have liked her, you know. He’d have said something about her looking like a proper Scot, with that red hair.”
Alex took his mother’s hand. “Let’s see about persuading her to marry into a good Scots family then, shall we?”
Chapter Eighteen
Marianne found herself utterly unable to concentrate on the rest of the play. She was far too aware of Alexander and his mother only a short distance away, heads bent towards each other in intense conversation, both of them with eyes fixed firmly on the box where she sat the whole time. The dowager marchioness had clearly been quite keen on Alexander getting to know Diana, and it would certainly be a good match for her niece.
Not only that, but Marianne knew firsthand exactly how decent a man Alexander was. He would surely take good care of Diana, make sure she wanted for nothing. Diana, with her sweet nature, could not help but love him, and would surely be loved in return.
So why did the very idea make Marianne feel sick to her stomach?
She could not stop Diana and Clarissa excitedly telling their mother about meeting a marquis and his mother, and being invited to a duchess’ ball, of course. Or Clarissa needling her sister about being asked for the first dance.
Lavinia could hardly contain her excitement, and Marianne was praised to the skies for being the means of introduction to such exalted personages. “Dancing with a marquis at a duchess’ ball!” she kept saying, as though she could not quite believe it. “My little girl!”
“Lord Glenkellie asked Aunt Marianne for the second,” Diana said innocently.
“Oh, that was just politeness,” Marianne said quickly as Lavinia’s brows drew down in a frown. “We are old friends, after all. He could hardly not ask. And you were quite right, I do miss dancing. Not many gentlemen will request a set with an old widow like me, so I shall enjoy the opportunities when they come my way.” Her tone was a little defiant as she met Lavinia’s gaze, and the older woman nodded after a moment, shrugging.
“So long as you do not distract Diana’s prospects, all will be well.” It was Arthur who whispered malevolently into her ear.
Marianne’s jaw clenched, but she pretended he had not spoken and stared fixedly at the stage, though in truth she took in little of the rest of the play.
THE FOLLOWING MORNING as Ellen and Marianne took breakfast together, Ellen confided Lady Jersey had not been prepared to offer vouchers without meeting Diana. Thus, Ellen had promised to collect Lavinia and Diana in her carriage and take them to call on Lady Jersey for tea that afternoon.
“Lady Jersey insisted I bring you along as well, of course,” she said.
“I should rather keep Clarissa company,” Marianne said quickly. “Perhaps we might take a walk in the park.”
“Are you avoiding Lady Jersey?” Ellen’s gaze was uncomfortably sharp. “It’s quite all right if you are, of course. I’ll happily assist - though I should like to know why.”
With a sense of relief that she need not mislead Ellen, Marianne said, “I think she will try and persuade me to marry again. She fancies herself a matchmaker; only look how many young men she tried to throw in your way, and she barely had any opportunities before Thomas snatched you up!”
“True,” Ellen admitted. She gave Marianne another penetrating look. “And you are quite sure you will never marry again?”
“I could never wish to be under any man’s control again,” Marianne said frankly. “I will fight Arthur to retain what independence I have, and God willing, with good friends like you and Thomas and the Pembrokes, I shall contrive to live well enough to suit me.”
“You will have a place with us always, if you wish it,” Ellen promised. “As a valued member of the family, not merely a guest.”
Tears of emotion choked Marianne’s throat, and she reached out to touch Ellen’s hand, her expression full of gratitude.
The clatter of hooves and wheels just outside broke the moment, and they both looked to the window to see a carriage drawn up at the front door.
“That’s the Glenkellie crest on the door,” Ellen noted. “I think perhaps you have a visitor, Marianne.”
“It’s rather too early for morning calls.” Marianne shook her head, regaining her composure. “I am sure he is only here because he has some business with Thomas.”
Footsteps in the hallway and the sound of the study door opening and closing seemed to confirm her supposition, and the two ladies returned to their toast and tea.
Only a few moments later, though, Thomas entered the room. “I do beg your pardon,” he said, “but Glenkellie is here to discuss some matters of business with Marianne.”
“With me?” Marianne looked blank. “What business could he have to discuss with me?”
But Ellen was already getting up and saying she had a hundred jobs to do and she would leave them to it.
Marianne had little choice but to set her teacup aside and follow Thomas to his study, a smaller room than the one at Havers Hall but no less comfortably furnished.
Alex was waiting there, smiling as he saw her enter the room. “Lady Marianne.” He bowed as Thomas escorted her to a seat and then both men took their seats as well.
“Whatever is this about?” she asked in confusion.
“Do you recall I advised you that I had commissioned Glenkellie to see what might be done about your jewellery?” Thomas asked.
“Oh.” She had tried to forget everything about the hated jewels. “Yes, I suppose so. Are they worth anything?” she asked, turning to face Alexander.
“A good deal, as it turns out. Some four thousand pounds, all told. I’ve placed the money in an account at Coutts Bank in your name. If you would at some time make an appointment to accompany me there, I can vouch to Mr. Coutts that the money is yours and then you will be able to do with it whatever you wish.”
“Four thousand pounds?” Marianne said, flabbergasted.
“Indeed, and there are still some small pieces remaining, plus a necklace my mother wishes to purchase as a gift for her sister, who she intends to visit in Italy this year.”
Completely stunned, Marianne merely sat and blinked at him, at least until Thomas said, “Marianne, are you feeling quite well? You’ve turned pale.”
“I just,” she turned to him and shook her head. “Four thousand pounds - I never expected so much!”
“You are quite an heiress,” Thomas said, teasing. “All the fortune hunters will be chasing after you when they learn of it. For it is yours alone, not a widow’s portion you would lose should you remarry.”
“But what am I to do with so much money?” For all Creighton’s wealth, Marianne had never carried more than a few shillings in her own purse. Everything she purchased was sent on account to her husband.
“We both stand ready to advise you, should you wish,” Alex said, and she looked back at him. “Or Mr. Coutts could make some recommendations, if you would like to consult with an independent party. Even placed in the four per cents, though, you would get an income of some one hundred and sixty pounds per annum, which would be more than sufficient to rent a house and keep some servants, if you wish.”
“Or you can continue to reside with us, and save the money for the future,” Thomas said with a frown at Alexander. “I know Ellen wishes you to remain with us, as one of the family, and your being a woman of means does not change that.”
“I will have to think about it,” Marianne said at last.
“Whatever you decide to do, I stand ready to assist,” Alexander said. “In fact, if it is convenient, I am available to convey you to the bank this morning.”
“I think that�
��s a good idea,” Thomas encouraged, and Marianne was persuaded to go and collect a coat and hat and ask Jean to accompany her.
“To avoid any appearance of impropriety,” she told her maid, “though of course there wouldn’t be any; Lord Glenkellie is a perfect gentleman.”
“Still, you don’t want folks gossipping about you bein’ alone with a man,” Jean said wisely, putting on her own coat. “I don’t mind goin’ for a ride in a fancy carriage at all, m’lady. Never been out of Herefordshire before, have I? London’s full of wonders to see.”
With Jean sitting beside her absorbed in the sights passing by outside the carriage window, Marianne found her eyes resting on Alexander. He looked the picture of a fine London gentleman, though he eschewed the bright colours worn by the foppish, his clothes were perfectly tailored to fit him, and she did not doubt the shine on his boots alone was hard-earned by dedicated hours of polishing by some under-servant.
“Thank you for assisting me in this matter, Lord Glenkellie,” she said impulsively.
“You’re most welcome.” Alexander smiled at her. “I admit I was surprised to find the jewels of such value, but pleased on your behalf.” He paused a moment before adding, “You paid a high price for them.”
She had not considered it that way, but now that she did, she smiled wryly. “Indeed, I was quite expensive, was I not? Five hundred a year... he could have kept several mistresses for that, if he had wished.”
Alexander looked horrified at her flippant remark. “Dear God, never say so!” he exclaimed. “Crei - that man valued you far too cheaply!”
Appreciative he had recalled she did not like to hear the name Creighton, and touched by his outrage on her behalf, Marianne gave him a rueful shrug. “I admit I do not know what he paid my father. Several thousand at least, I must suppose. I understand his gambling debts were quite substantial.”
“A good woman is a pearl beyond price,” Alexander said, and then he leaned forward, gazing at her intently. “The love of a good woman cannot be purchased, not for money or jewels or any such thing.”
Unwrapping a Rogue: A Christmas Regency Boxset Page 30
