by Anna Gracie
eligible bride. On the other hand, Tallie would not put it past her
cousin to set her up for a humiliating fall. In fact, it would be very
like her. Tallie could just imagine Laetitia entertaining her London
friends with the joke. Imagine, that plain, foolish lump of a girl
actually believing that Magnus wanted to marry her! When he has the
pick of the ton at his fingertips! Oh, my dears, I laughed until the
tears ran down my cheeks! But there, 'tis not kind to laugh at one's
inferiors . but really, if you could have seen Magnus's face when the
girl confronted him, Lord, he thought he was being pursued by a
lunatic! And gales of laughter would follow.
"Er ... Cousin Laetitia was under the impression..." Tallie's eye fell
on the newspaper 'that the maids might have forgotten to press the
paper for you, but I see they have, so I
will go at once and tell her that everything is. organised. " She
stood up to leave. Lord d'Arenville rose also.
Heavens! He was looming again, standing so close she could just smell
the faint tang of a masculine cologne. Tallie took a step backwards
and stumbled against the divan. A strong hand shot out and caught her
by the arm, holding her until she steadied, then releasing her.
"Thank you... So clumsy..." she muttered, flustered, and annoyed with
herself for being so.
"Stay a moment, Miss Robinson. I wish to speak to you." His hand
touched her arm again, a light touch this time, not the firm, warm grip
of before.
Tallie looked up, puzzled. A faint warning bell sounded in her mind as
she saw the purposeful look in his cold grey eyes, but she quashed it
immediately. No doubt he had some complaint about a servant, or a
message he wished her to carry to her cousin. Outwardly calm, she
allowed herself to be seated a second time, folded her hands demurely
in her lap and waited.
Magnus noted the quiet way she folded her hands. It seemed to him a
pleasantly womanly gesture. Her whole demeanour pleased him. Clearly
Laetitia had told her of his decision, and, whilst he wished she had
not, this girl's reactions bore out the soundness of his choice. She
was neither filled with vulgar excitement nor coy flutterings. Yes,
she would do nicely. He took a deep breath, surprised at how
unexpectedly nervous he suddenly felt.
"You said you had spoken with Laetitia?"
The cold knot in the pit of Tallie's stomach grew. Wordlessly she
nodded.
"Yes, I should have expected she could not keep it to herself."
Without waiting for her reply. Lord d'Arenville began to explain.
"It would be best if the wedding took place almost immediately--it
takes three weeks for the banns to be called. We would be married from
this house and my cousin's husband George would give you away. I would
prefer a small affair, just my immediate family--Laetitia and her
husband-- | and of course any friends or relations you wish to
invite..." j It could not be true. She was not sitting here listening
to this cold, proud man elaborate on the arrangements for his wedding.
Her wedding!
His wedding to Tallie Robinson! A girl to whom he had scarcely spoken
two words.
But his cool, indifferent demeanour, his very seriousness convinced
her. It was not a joke, not a malicious trick to make sport of the
poor relation.
But he hadn't even asked her if she wanted to marry him!
After a time, Tallie's shock wore off, and she realised she was
furious. And utterly mortified. She had known the likelihood of her
ever marrying was slim. Living in the country as Laetitia's unpaid
governess, she came into contact with few eligible men, and with
neither looks nor fortune to recommend her, her prospects were few and
far between. But it was one thing to face the prospect of a lonely and
loveless future, and another to be so little regarded that she did not
even merit the appearance of a courtship. Were her feelings and
desires of so little significance to him?
Tallie stared down at her knees, flushed and fuming, biting her lip to
prevent her rage from spilling out. Her hands shook, itching to slap
the smug condescension off his face. She clenched them into fists,
dwelling on how pleasant it would be to box his arrogant ears! She
took in very little of what he was saying!
Lord d'Arenville rose from his seat and paced up and down before her,
explaining the arrangements. He noted his bride's delicate blush, her
modestly bowed head, and congratulated himself again on the excellent
choice he had made. No pampered miss, this. She sat there, meekly
listening to his plans for her future. Quiet, submissive,
delightful!
How could he ever have been so foolish as to consider a sophisticated
woman of the ton as the mother of his children? Laetitia's candidates
had been self-centred, selfish, and far too sure of themselves. Much
better to have chosen this sweetly shy girl with her modest, downcast
eyes. Thalia Robinson would be grateful for his offer--she had no
worldly ambition, no highly strung temperament.
His eyes ran over her figure. It was difficult to tell in that
frightful dress she wore, but she seemed sturdy--certainly robust
enough to survive the rig ours of childbirth. And this girl, he
believed, had the capacity to love, and he needed that--for his
children. He recalled the tender way her hands had caressed young
Georgie. He wanted that for his child. yes, for his child. Her hands
were trembling, he realised. Magnus watched approvingly as she
clenched her fingers tightly together in an effort to control her
emotions. Excellent. Self-control was a good thing in a wife.
He gentled his voice. Doubtless such disparity in their respective
stations in life made her a little nervous, a little eager to oblige.
The thought did not displease Magnus. He intended to treat her
kindly--her nervousness would pass with time and she would no doubt be
grateful for his forbearance. It would be a start. She would find him
a good husband, he hoped. He would look after her, protect her, take
care of all her needs. He continued to pace the floor, describing
d'Arenville, the family seat, and how much she would like living
there.
Tallie fumed silently, letting his words wash over her. So she was to
be his quiet, compliant little brood mare, was she? The wife he
intended to keep immured in his beastly d'Arenville for ten years or
more!
In a pig's eye she was!
The nerve, the arrogance, the presumption of the man! He must have
decided a plain, poor woman would give him the least trouble, a woman
without prospects but with the hips and teeth and bloodlines to bear
his heirs! A sturdy woman!
She longed to leap up, to fling his proposal of mar. No-- Tallie
Robinson, poor relation, did not merit a proposal, for he had not even
waited for her reply. He'd presented his prospective brood mare with
an assumption of marriage!
Well, whichever it was, she would fling it in his teeth! That would
bring a shocked look to that insufferably complacent face. And how she
would enjoy snapping her fingers under that long, proud nose! She
would wait until he had finished describing the wonderful treats that
marriage to him would bring her! What was he talking about now? The
view of the lake from the summerhouse at sunset? Hah!
I'm sooo sorry, Lord d'Arenville, she would tell him, but even the
delightful prospect of viewing the d'Arenville duck pond at dawn cannot
tempt me to marry you. I would much prefer to remain unwed.
Sooo sorry to disappoint you. And she would sail out of the room, head
held high, leaving him stunned, furious, gnashing his teeth with
chagrin.
No, she decided. Too tame, too straightforward. He deserved a taste
of his own medicine. He hadn't even bothered to speak to her} He'd
merely informed Laetitia, no doubt offering to take a poor relation off
her hands. Tallie had been scalded and abused and accused of outright
immorality. And all because of his arrogance. He needed to be taken
down a peg or two! Or three!
Tallie smiled to herself, planning her revenge--she'd keep him
guessing. A man of his pride and consequence would loathe being kept
waiting. Especially by a little nobody from nowhere! A sturdy little
nobody at that!
Laetitia's guests obviously knew of Lord d'Arenville's choice. They
would be waiting for the announcement. And Laetitia--what would it do
to her pride to have the despised poor relation keeping the head of the
family dangling?
The thought filled Tallie with glee--she would let them all wait. and
wait. and wait. And they would marvel at her temerity in making her
future husband wait, for of course it would never occur to any of them
that she could be so foolish as to refuse such a prize!
A prize indeed, Tallie thought scornfully, glancing up at him from
under her lashes. As if a handsome face and figure and a wealthy purse
were everything!
Yes, she would make him, and everyone else, wait. And then, just when
everyone was starting to wonder how much longer Lord d'Arenville's
temper would stand it, Tallie would carelessly decline his offer. That
would serve him right! How his pride would suffer--the great Lord
d'Arenville, prize of the marriage mart, courted and pursued by every
matchmaking mama in the country, rejected by the plain and
insignificant poor relation!
"The banns would be called immediately and the wedding set for three
weeks from now. Would that be enough time for you to organise your
bride clothes?" said Lord d'Arenville.
Tallie blinked up at him in mocking surprise. Was that a question he
was asking? Something he didn't know? An arrange menthe hadn't
made?
Something for her to comment on? Amazing.
She stood up.
"Lord d'Arenville. I thank you for your very... surprising... offer of
marriage. May I consider my reply?" Without waiting for his response,
Tallie hurried on, "Thank you. I will let you know my answer as soon
as is convenient."
Magnus's jaw dropped.
She walked to the door, opened it, paused, turned back to face him and
smiled sweetly.
"Until then, may I suggest you make no irrevocable arrangements?"
Chapter Three
ell, what did he say? It was a hum, was it not? " Laetitia dragged
Tallie into a nearby anteroom.
"No, I am afraid it was not," said Tallie reluctantly.
"You were perfectly correct, Cousin, he thought to marry me."
Laetitia caught the tense Tallie used and pounced eagerly.
"But he has changed his mind?"
Tallie knew she had to choose her words carefully, so as not to
exacerbate her cousin's volatile temper any further. She was skating
on very thin ice as it was.
"No, not exactly."
"I knew it!" Laetitia stamped her foot.
"He is such a selfish wretch!
How could he put me in such a position? Each girl out there was in
daily expectation of being made an offer! " She glared at Tallie.
"Each one a diamond of the first water, an heiress or a duke's
relative--and he chooses youV Tallie nodded, ignoring the insult. She
understood how foolish her cousin felt. She even felt some sympathy
for her. Lord d'Arenville was an arrogant, selfish, thoughtless
boot.
"It is all right. Cousin," she said soothingly.
"I intend to refuse him."
Laetitia froze. She stared, stupefied. Her face went white beneath
the rouge.
"What did you say?" she whispered.
"I am going to refuse him." Tallie smiled reassuringly.
"Refuse MagnusT Tallie nodded.
"Yes."
"You--to refuse my cousin Magnus? Lord d'Arenville?"
Tallie nodded again.
"Absolutely. I have no wish to marry him, so there is nothing for you
to be upset--' " Of all the brazen effrontery! You arrogant little
bitch! "
Tallie took a step backwards, unnerved by the fury she saw in her
cousin's face.
"Who do you think you are to refuse my cousin Magnus'I You--a complete
nonentity! A mere Robinson'. Why, he is so far above the likes of you
that he is the sun to your, your..." Laetitia waved her hand in
frustration, unable to find a suitable comparison to convey to Tallie
just how far beneath him she was.
"How dare you think to humiliate me in this fashion?"
"But, Cousin, how does my refusing Lord d'Arenville humiliate you?"
interrupted Tallie, confused by her cousin's abrupt volte-face.
"I can see how choosing me instead of your--' " Do not for one minute
dare to gloat, you insolent hussy! "
"I am not gloating," said Tallie indignantly.
"But I don't understand.
Surely if I refuse him it saves you the embarrassment of people knowing
he preferred me to your friends? We can say that your guests
misunderstood. "
Laetitia threw up her hands.
"She even has the brass to boast of her conquest!" she muttered.
"Mortifying enough that my cousin chooses a shabby little nobody over
my friends, but for the nobody to refuse him! No. No! It is too
much!"
She turned to face Tallie, hands on hips.
"Little did I think when I accepted you into my household that it would
come to this. You will pack your bags and be out of here within the
hour. John Coachman will take you back to the village where you lived
before you insinuated yourself into my home." Laetitia's voice was
low, furious and vengeful, her expression implacable.
Tallie stared at her, shocked. There was no hysteria in her cousin's
manner now.
"You ... you cannot mean it, surely, Cousin?"
Laetitia sniffed and turned her face away.
Tallie tried again.
"Please, Cousin, reconsider. There is nothing for me in the village.
The school closed down when Miss Fisher died. And... you know I have
no money."
"You should have considered that before you set your cap at my
cousin."
"I did not set my cap at him. I never even spoke to him! It was Lord
d'Arenville who--' " I am not interested in your excuses. You have one
hour. " Laetitia was adamant.
Tallie's mouth was dry.
"You cannot mean it, surely, Cousin?" she began.
"I have nowhere to go, no one to turn to."
"And whose fault is that, pray? Had I known before what an ungrateful,
scheming jade you were, I would never have taken you into my home. The
subject is closed. One hour." Laetitia swept towards the door.
"Cousin!" called Tallie. Laetitia paused and glanced disdainfully
back. Tallie swallowed. She had been about to beg, but she could see
from her cousin's expression that her cousin was hoping for just
that.
No, she would not beg. In her current mood Laetitia would enjoy seeing
her grovel, and it would do no good; Tallie could see that now.
"Will you write me a letter of recommendation so that I may at least
seek work as a governess?"
"You have a nerve!" spat Laetitia.
"No, I will not!"
Magnus strode through the damp grass, snapping his whip angrily against
his booted leg. He'd planned to go for a long ride, but had found
