by Jane Lark
Harry could see from his father’s expression that he had known about the marriage. He and John were the only people who did not appear surprised.
Henry gripped Harry’s hand, then embraced Harry with the other arm. ‘Bloody hell, you discovered a woman who has entranced you. You’ve always said never and you have said it often.’
His father and John stayed back as his cousins and his brothers, Daniel and David, came to shake his hand and laugh at him for catching himself in the noose he’d always sworn he’d avoid. Uncle Robert and Aunt Jane added their felicitations and then Katherine was the last to wish him well, she hugged him and kissed his cheek as his sisters had done. Then she turned to Charlie, who his mother still stood beside.
‘May I have a word with you?’ his father stated. John stood beside him, his eyes holding the accusation Harry had known would come.
Harry glanced at Charlie, his mother would make Charlie feel welcome, she would manage.
His father raised his hand, encouraging Harry to walk ahead. Lord. It was like being marched out under guard.
‘We’ll talk in the library,’ John said, as they reached the landing.
Harry walked downstairs with one hand resting on the hilt of his sword.
One of John’s footmen moved to open the library door for them to walk through and when they were all inside the man shut the door.
Harry stood straight, with the palm of his right hand still resting on the hilt of his sword.
‘You married her…’ John said, the accusation brimming in his voice challenging Harry’s sanity with his outrage.
‘Yes.’ Harry let his answer ask what was wrong with that?
‘For God’s sake, why?’ his father reproached.
‘Why not? I think it is my choice who I marry.’
‘Except, I know where this began. She was a man’s mistress and you were with her in his house. The scandal is running through the clubs in London. You asked John to pay for the woman and then, in the next moment, you are married. Why? Because John would not give you the money? I thought you had outgrown rebellion, Harry.’
He widened his eyes at his father, in censure. Whatever Charlie’s background she was now his wife. ‘Do you think I would marry her to spite you?’
‘You cannot use a woman like this. If you knew what you have done…’ John said in a more ominous tone, as though Harry had committed the worst sin in the world.
‘Papa, you told me again and again to think about the lives of women who choose to be paid for their favour. I understand now. Charlie deserves this. I did not marry her to spite you. It is right, that is all. Do you think I would be that foolish to commit myself for such a shallow reason? I have been posted to India. I am due to leave in six weeks. I want her with me.’
His father stared at him. ‘And that is what she wants?’
She’d had little choice, but. ‘Yes.’ He thought so.
John stared at him. ‘One never knows if you are serious, Harry, or being dismissive. God, if you knew the truth in this…’
He knew well enough. He did not need John behaving as though he was the authority on life. Harry had seen things John could never imagine. He looked at his father. ‘She is terrified of you all. She comes from a poor family. Do not insult her and do not blame her. Please?’
‘We would not treat her badly. You simply cannot realise the impact of this,’ John said.
‘Of course I know. I have married her. I will be living with her. I am being sent to India for my sins towards a retired officer and I would do everything again if I had the same chance.’
‘She has a bruise about her eye…’ his father said, in a low, cutting voice that questioned why.
Damn. Harry had become so used to looking at her with it he’d forgotten about it, but then his mind had been focused on marrying her. Perhaps that was why everyone had stopped and stared for a minute before greeting her. God, and no wonder Rupert had been so starched. ‘The man she left did that. You should be praising me as the heroic son you have always wanted, not berating me.’
His father swallowed and his skin coloured red.
He hardly ever blushed.
Harry looked at John, expecting approval. His brother was a holier-than-thou Puritan. Harry did not receive approval. John looked… odd. He was paler and he looked as though he’d eaten something bitter.
‘You had better treat her well. I would like to stay here until I join my new regiment in four weeks, but if you do not accept Charlie, I will go and God knows when I will see you again. I might be in India for years.’
‘Harry,’ his father walked towards him, finally recognising what his going to India meant and he was embraced. ‘I am proud of you.’
They were words often spoken to Rob or Mary or the others, but rarely to him.
He held his father and breathed in the smell of his cologne. It was strange things like that which had hovered in his mind in the time he’d endured the nightmare of the Crimean War.
‘Do you love this woman?’ his father asked as he let Harry go.
Love. He did not answer. He had not allowed himself to think of love. He had kept his heart hard. If his heart became soft again how could he walk away from his family once more, probably for years, and how would he live with the guilt in his head.
John sighed, his eyes saying that he was still unhappy.
When Harry was on the other side of the world what John thought would not matter. But Harry hoped he did not make it uncomfortable for Charlie while they were here, and if he did then Harry would ask Drew if they could stay with him.
Harry looked at his father. ‘May I go back to her now?’
‘Yes.’ His father turned and opened the door.
John caught hold of Harry’s arm. ‘Do not mention to anyone the name of the man she was with.’ The statement was a whisper he did not want his father to hear.
‘Why?’
‘Do not risk trouble that does not need to befall us.’
What had John heard? But he could not ask John to explain as his father held the door and was waiting.
Harry turned and walked out ahead of them. Poor Charlie would be upstairs as alone as he’d felt the last time he’d returned. He climbed the stairs two at a time, his hand on his sword hilt again to stop it swaying. He’d take it off in a minute, but not near George or John’s sons.
Charlie was sitting on a sofa flanked by his mother and Katherine. He hoped she had not been grilled. Where did you meet? When?
Charlie looked up at him, her eyes speaking her plea to be saved.
He looked at Katherine. ‘Is there a room we can retreat to? It has been a long day and we would welcome the chance to rest before we change for dinner.’
She stood up and beckoned over one of the footmen who’d waited at the edge of the room. ‘Show Captain Marlow up to his room please.’
‘But before you go, you must let me say my congratulations, Harry.’ His mother stood and her arms wrapped about him. He held her in return. ‘You are a bad boy,’ she whispered into his ear. ‘It was cruel of you to marry without me there.’ The words were not said unkindly, but they were genuinely meant. He had deprived her.
He ought to admit, though… ‘Rupert and Meredith were there. They were in town. Phillip invited them—’
‘Phillip was with you?’ Katherine asked with a pitch of envy.
‘Phillip, Drew, Rupert and Meredith.’
‘You should have come here and fetched us,’ his mother chastised.
‘And then everyone would have wished to be involved and a fuss would have been made.’
She did not answer, but their embrace ended.
‘Will you excuse us?’ He nodded at his mother, then Katherine, then caught hold of Charlie’s hand.
Chapter 10
Charlie clasped Harry’s fingers as though she was drowning in a river and he was a rope someone had thrown to pull her to safety. All these beautiful, well-dressed people. Wealthy people. Noble people.
/> What had she done?
This was not a world she should be in.
Why had Harry asked her to marry him?
His father and his eldest brother had taken Harry away within moments and they had not spoken to her or looked happy about Harry’s announcement. They had looked uncomfortable when they’d returned. They did not want her here, they knew her past. But they could not have told anyone else, everyone else had spoken to her. How long would they keep the secret?
Uncle Baba, the children had called Harry. He’d told her about the nickname and that his family had deemed him the naughty one, the one who liked to cause trouble. Had he married her because he wished to contradict his father’s words? He had received the letter and then proposed.
She hung on to Harry’s hand as they followed the servant up another flight of stairs. Their room was at the far end of the hall on that landing. The walls were covered in a paper decorated with green vines and the ceiling had gilded plasterwork.
Harry let her go. She walked further into the room as he thanked the servant, then shut the door.
When he turned, he sighed.
She looked back as she heard it.
‘Now you may breathe, Charlie.’
She did, her lips parted and she drew in a deep breath; she had not even realised she had not been breathing properly.
‘Sorry I left you. But it was better I let John and my father have their say. I knew they would not approve of our rushed marriage.’
‘Do they hate me?’
He walked quickly across the room and held her.
She clung to him, her fingers curling into the cloth of his coat at his back.
‘They do not hate you. It is me they are angry with and the bruise about your eye raises questions. I had forgotten about it myself, but if you think people have been looking oddly at you, you must remember that.’ He let her go and instead held her hands. ‘This is not the wedding day I would have chosen for you. I am sorry. But shall we take a while to recoup? Shall I ring for a bathing tub and hot water?’
She nodded. In this room, she could pretend that it had been like the days in the inns—as it would be again when they left for India. She only needed to survive this intense weight of unworthiness and guilt for a few weeks.
Yet weeks… Days would be easier, but weeks…
It felt as though she was walking along the High Street in her village, when everyone had stared and instead of others doing it, her own mind shouted the names that people had called her and threw the stones that people had bent to pick up and hurl at her.
‘Come back to me,’ Harry said in a quiet voice.
She had been lost in thought—fear.
He pressed a kiss on her lips. ‘I shall ring down.’ When he turned away he began unbuckling his sword belt.
She turned away too, uncertain what to do, and walked to the window. No. She could not pretend this was a room in an inn. When she looked out of the window she saw a landscape that was perfectly laid out, as though it was the view in a painting. There was a huge lake with a weir that flowed under a bridge and perfectly placed trees in the meadows about it.
Harry wrapped his arms around her waist from behind. He’d taken off his gloves.
‘My wife. I like the word.’ He kissed her neck. ‘Did Mama interrogate you?’
‘Yes.’
‘Sorry.’
She did not say more. She had avoided the questions as much as she could and said nothing about her family or where she grew up. Her head rested back on Harry’s shoulder as he bit her neck then kissed it again.
She and Harry had this sense of closeness and attraction, no matter what.
Someone knocked on the door. Harry’s hands fell away and the warmth of his body left her.
She turned and watched as he opened the door and spoke with the servant. Then he shut the door and turned back, looking at her. ‘The bath and the water will be up directly; they keep water warm here. You do not make a duke wait if he wants something.’
He began unbuttoning his coat. She noticed her trunk had been placed in a small room adjoining theirs. The door was open and she could see her trunk in the corner. Beside it were his things and on top of them were his hat and her bonnet. It must be a dressing room.
Her heartbeat raced with the desire to run.
‘Charlie…’ he said her name as though he’d thought her mind was wandering again. ‘Do not be afraid of them.’ He stripped off his coat.
But she was afraid of his family.
The door was knocked on again. Harry walked into the dressing room and laid his coat down on top of the trunk beside his other things, where he’d put his sword too, and came back in to open the door.
The servants brought in a large copper bath, lined it with a linen cloth and then filled it with water. They also brought soap, cloths and towels. Then they were gone again.
‘Let us open the window. It’s warm in here.’ Harry walked past her to do it. ‘I’d rather be swimming in the lake, but we might cause some outrage if we did that.’
He turned then and his fingers started releasing the buttons on the back of her dress. ‘You are joining me, aren’t you?’
‘Yes.’
She felt better when she was sitting in the water with him, between his parted legs, resting her back against his chest. His arms were about her and his fingers were threaded in between hers. He lifted her left hand and held it up so that the sunlight caught on the ring.
She could sense him smiling.
He was happy. That was a good thing. They had promised each other happiness. But she wanted it too.
She sighed out her breath.
When he’d had enough of bathing, as she stood in the bath he wrapped her in a towel, then lifted her out and carried her to the bed, where he kissed her everywhere. Then she kissed him everywhere before she climbed over him and made him even happier.
But he said they must go back downstairs afterwards to join his family again.
Her heart pulsed in a hard, heavy beat as they dressed.
He kept a firm hold on her hand as they walked down and as they stood in the drawing room she met his youngest sisters and his cousin Gerard, who had been outside earlier.
When his sister-in-law Katherine, the Duchess, and his mother, Ellen, came to speak to her she could not take her eyes off their jewellery. Their necklaces held layers of gemstones. She had thought the things the Colonel had bought her were pretty and extravagant, but now she saw that they had been cheap and gaudy compared to real jewels.
When they sat at the table she was in between Harry and his brother Rob.
Rob spoke to her pleasantly. Yet she had a feeling that Harry’s family had been talking about her before she’d come down. There was an atmosphere of caution at the table. Did they want an explanation for her bruised eye? She saw some of them glance at it when they spoke to her.
She watched them too. There were a number of couples and at times they talked exclusively while other conversations flowed across the table.
Most of it excluded her. But even if she could not participate, there was one thing she was skilled at; she could smile for hours and bear anything and pretend she was happy.
It is only for four weeks, she told her silly head. It was not long. She would make her cheeks ache with smiles in those weeks.
Katherine stood a short while after they had finished eating, then Harry’s mother stood and his Aunt Jane and his sister Mary, and it was like a wave flowing down the room. Harry touched Charlie’s hand. ‘I will be as quick as I can.’
As every woman had stood, she supposed she must have to stand too. When she did, the women started walking from the room. Oh. She was to leave Harry…
She swallowed, then stiffened her smile and remembered the nights when she had served Mark’s friends with drinks and cigars. That was her only marker for understanding how to behave here.
The women returned to the long drawing room, which was full of red velvet and dark wooden fu
rniture, huge portraits and more gilded plaster. This world, this place, was the gilded edging on Harry. She had met the solid, plain, bear oak of the man in Brighton, but here…
‘So how long have you known Harry?’ Helen asked.
Charlie turned, met Helen’s gaze, and forced her voice to stay steady. ‘For a few weeks.’
As Charlie answered, Harry’s female cousins walked across the room, as though they had been desperately awaiting the moment when they could question her.
‘Sit, Charlie.’ Helen patted the end of a sofa as she sat there too. Then Harry’s sisters and cousins gathered about them while Harry’s mother, Ellen, and Katherine, who had already asked these questions, stood across the room talking with his aunt.
‘Tell me where you met?’ Helen prompted.
‘Yes, where did you meet him?’ The youngest, Jemima, pressed too.
‘At the seashore. I saw him everyday throwing a stick for his dog.’
‘Did he spot you and come and talk to you?’ Someone else asked.
‘No. I spoke to him first.’
‘Oh, that would have polished up his ego,’ Mary answered.
‘Did you go to assemblies?’ Georgiana asked.
‘No, but we walked out together, along the front, with Ash.’ These women were so very different to her. Those who were married must have met their husbands at balls and been courted on carriage rides, in the way of a penny romance novel.
When the men entered the room, Harry came over to Charlie immediately; he walked behind the sofa and set his hands on her shoulders, then he leant down and kissed her neck. It was an excuse to whisper in her ear, ‘How are you?’
She touched his hand as it rested on her shoulder and glanced up to smile. The smile was such a lie, more of a lie than any she had told the women about how she had come to be his wife.
They retired to their room before anyone else had and he asked about what had been said to her as they walked upstairs. She told him the answers she had given so that he could say the same.
