Lord Garson’s Bride

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Lord Garson’s Bride Page 4

by Anna Campbell


  She hadn’t minded. The pressure of putting the wedding together had distracted her from fretting about leaving Cavell Court, not to mention what she and Hugh would do tonight. She wasn’t precisely afraid, but when she thought about sharing his bed, butterflies the size of elephants started danced in her stomach.

  “You needed to arrange everything in Derbyshire. I understood. You wrote.” Short, businesslike notes, but at least he hadn’t forgotten her, once she was out of sight.

  He looked surprised. “Of course I wrote.”

  “And it’s not the easiest journey from Dorset to Derbyshire. You’ve spent a good deal of the last few weeks on the road.” He’d been to London, too. Last night when he arrived, he’d looked tired. But beneath his physical weariness, she’d seen the weight oppressing his spirit.

  “Nonetheless I should have courted you,” he said stubbornly.

  She couldn’t agree. A courtship would only underline that he went through the motions, while his heart lay elsewhere. The matter-of-fact arrangement suited her much better.

  “There’s no need when you’ve won me already,” she said in a flat voice.

  “You know, I’m not entirely sure that I have,” he said, and his unusually austere tone struck her silent.

  *

  Chapter Five

  *

  Jane had spent three weeks dreading the wedding breakfast. Too many of the guests knew about Garson’s history with Morwenna Nash—it was the kind of scandal the world feasted on, even the world of a small Dorset village—and were aware that Jane was very much his second choice.

  But to her surprise, everyone present seemed genuinely pleased for the bridal couple, including Hugh’s friends Silas and Caro Nash. Given Silas was Hugh’s best man, Jane couldn’t avoid him and his wife—much as the more cowardly part of her might like to. When she said she wanted to meet new people, she didn’t mean members of Morwenna’s family. Or at least not on her wedding day.

  She was sipping champagne at Hugh’s side when the Nashes approached through the cheerful throng. Jane’s stomach knotted with nerves, but she resisted the urge to run away.

  “Hugh, isn’t it time you introduced your old friends to your lovely wife?” the tall man with the untidy mass of tawny hair asked, clapping her new husband on the back with the familiarity of long acquaintance.

  “If you promise to behave,” Hugh said with a smile.

  “I like that!” the glamorous woman in the stylish bronze taffeta dress protested. “I always behave.”

  “Only when you feel like it, my darling,” Lord Stone said, and Jane couldn’t miss how love brightened his eyes when he teased his wife.

  The champagne on Jane’s tongue suddenly tasted as sour as vinegar. She could never picture Hugh treating her with such overt affection. While she’d entered this marriage with no expectation of love, witnessing the Stones’ closeness today of all days was a little too hard to bear. With an unsteady hand, she set the glass down on the marble console table behind her.

  Hugh took her hand. He seemed to be doing that a lot today. She almost became used to the warmth that rippled up her arm every time he did it. “Jane, may I present Silas Nash, my best man, and his charming wife, Caroline, Lady Stone?”

  She and Lady Stone curtsied, while Lord Stone bowed. They were a striking couple. He had an interesting, quirky face, and she was beautiful, with large blue eyes under elaborately arranged dark hair threaded with diamonds.

  “I’m delighted to meet you at last,” Jane said, every word a lie. She knew that she’d have to meet all of Hugh’s friends at some stage, and that most, if not all of them were closely associated with Morwenna. But today, she felt too insecure in her new role as Lady Garson to cope with many more reminders of her husband’s previous amour.

  She felt bad about her lack of sincerity, when Lady Stone smiled with an open friendliness she hadn’t expected to encounter in Morwenna Nash’s sister-in-law. “We’ve been itching with curiosity to see you, too, Lady Garson, ever since Hugh told us he’d found the woman he wanted to marry. Our very best wishes for your future happiness.”

  “I second that.” Lord Stone’s smile was just as warm. “I’m hoping we’ll all be great friends.”

  “Yes, please call me Caro. I’m sure this reprobate won’t mind if you call him Silas.” The glance Caro bestowed upon her husband was alight with humor. After a dozen years of marriage, the Stones were so obviously in love. The contentment of a life well lived oozed from them like honey from a comb.

  Good for them, Jane thought with uncharacteristic bitterness, although she maintained her polite smile. She badly wanted to make a good first impression. “And you must call me Jane.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Hugh’s shoulders relax. For all his pretense of ease with this meeting, he, too, was aware that past history could make it all go terribly wrong.

  “Congratulations again, Garson old chum,” Silas said. “I couldn’t be happier for you.”

  Hugh released Jane and shook Silas’s hand. Jane couldn’t mistake the affection between them. Jane told herself it was her wedding day, and it would be too pathetic to feel like an outsider.

  “Thanks, old man. I’m a lucky dog.” He almost sounded like he meant it.

  Silas glanced at the people hovering to speak to the bride and groom, and his lips turned down in a wry smile. “We won’t monopolize you both here, but when you come to London, I hope you’ll be a regular visitor, Jane. Caro can’t wait to introduce you to her friends. They’ll take you about and make sure you find your feet in society.”

  “How very kind.” To Jane’s surprise, her response was more sincere than just good manners.

  Caro leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “Courage, Jane. Hugh’s worth the effort,” she whispered before she drew away.

  Jane started, wondering whether she’d heard right. That sounded like Caro might be on her side, which was the last thing she’d expected before she met the Nashes. She’d assumed any connections of Garson’s lost love would resent her stepping into Morwenna’s shoes.

  “Th-thank you,” she stammered, poise deserting her for an instant until she frantically clawed it back.

  Caro’s smile was genuinely warm, and she squeezed Jane’s hand. “We’ll see you in Town.”

  As Caro kissed Hugh’s cheek—did she offer him advice, too?—Silas took Jane’s hand and bowed over it. “Jane, it’s been a pleasure. May you and this rapscallion enjoy many blissful years together.”

  “Thank you, Silas,” she said, still reeling at the welcome she’d received from Hugh’s friends. Perhaps she was borrowing trouble, and London wasn’t going to be quite the nightmare she envisioned.

  The rest of the wedding breakfast passed in a whirl of good wishes from family and neighbors. As her father’s health worsened, she’d largely withdrawn from local society, so she was taken aback at how heartfelt the congratulations were. Saying goodbye to so many familiar faces was difficult. She’d grown up among these people, and she was sorry to leave them.

  *

  By the time Jane went upstairs to change into her traveling clothes, she’d almost convinced herself that she might glean a measure of happiness from this match. Meeting the Nashes hadn’t been near the ordeal she’d anticipated, and the guests all acted as if she and Hugh embarked on a golden future. Hugh had hardly left her side and hadn’t betrayed a moment’s dissatisfaction with his choice of bride.

  In her pretty pink gown, Susan bustled in front of her. Her sister was always in a rush, which meant she reached her destination ahead of time. But it also meant that she relied on other people to pick up the pieces she left behind.

  Jane entered the bedroom she’d slept in all her life. Packed up and ready for Felix’s sister, it felt strangely unfamiliar. Her stomach lurched with a return of her nerves. Cavell Court was where she’d always belonged, but no longer. Would she ever feel like she belonged with Hugh?

  Susan had already fluttered forward to smooth t
he lavender traveling gown Jane’s maid Molly had laid out on the bed. That was another sad parting. Molly wasn’t coming to Derbyshire with Jane. Instead, she stayed behind to marry John, the estate’s head groom.

  Characteristic impatience filled Susan’s face. “Stop looking like a wet hen, Janie, and come over here so I can unlace your dress.”

  Jane hated the description almost as much as she hated the childish nickname. Still, she made herself smile, although Susan didn’t sound like she was joking. “You can’t say that to a bride.”

  “Nevertheless it’s true. You should be in alt. Hugh is way above your touch, my girl. Rich. Handsome. Influential.”

  “And nice,” Jane said, disliking the direction of Susan’s remarks.

  Susan shrugged, clearly unconcerned with Garson’s personal qualities. “For a woman at her last prayers, you’ve done yourself proud. Don’t mess it up.”

  Annoyed, Jane marched across and presented her back to her sister. At least temper chased away her collywobbles. “You make it sound like he’s made a very poor bargain indeed.”

  “He could have picked anyone. Never forget how lucky you are. Remember you were looking forward to years of making do in the back of beyond.” Susan’s voice took on an unattractive hectoring tone, as she tugged at Jane’s laces. “I always thought that was a mad plan, when Frederick and I offered you a home. You’re so good with the children, after all.”

  Ugh. Never in this lifetime. “So I should spend the rest of my days showering my husband in gratitude?” she asked with a touch of acid.

  “You could do worse,” Susan said equally acidly. “He’s saved you from some pretty grim decisions, and let’s face it, at your age, you were on the shelf. I can hardly believe you’ve managed to pull off this coup.”

  “Stop talking about Hugh as if he’s a prize pig in a fair.”

  “Well, he is,” Susan said, hauling the lovely cream dress over Jane’s head. Her sister had arrived with both Jane’s wedding gown and going away clothes. At the time, Jane had been touched that Susan saved her from appearing a total frump. Those warm feelings cooled by the second, as Susan’s frankness trampled her sensitivities.

  Carefully Susan laid the silk dress across the bed. She went on before Jane could argue—although the awful fact was that Susan was right. Hugh was a prize, and Jane was miserably aware that she wasn’t. Her frail, newborn hopes for her future now seemed foolish to the point of fatuousness.

  “Do you know what’s going to happen tonight?”

  Heat flooded Jane’s cheeks. “The estate breeds cattle, sheep and horses. I’m aware of the basics.”

  “Good.” Susan faced her. “Just lie back and let him do what he wants. It’s going to hurt the first time.”

  Dear heaven above. Jane had been struggling not very successfully to avoid stewing over her wedding night. Trust Susan to bring the ordeal front and center.

  Except Jane wasn’t totally sure it was going to be ordeal. Or at least she hadn’t been until now.

  Hugh was kind, and he’d do his best to ease her into her marital duties. Late at night, when she lay exhausted in her bed, she’d pictured Hugh’s big hands touching her and Hugh’s big body joining with hers, and she hadn’t been afraid at all.

  “Does it…does it always hurt?” she asked in a shaky voice.

  A smile she’d never seen before curved Susan’s cupid’s bow lips. With her mass of glossy black hair, flashing dark eyes, and generous figure, she’d always been the beauty of the family. Susan took after their mother, whereas Jane was a Norris through and through.

  “It gets better.”

  That was reassuring. In a way. “So it does hurt.”

  “It won’t last long. Especially if you lie still and let him get on with it.”

  By now, Jane was feeling lightheaded with nerves. The last few weeks, she’d been grateful that Hugh had left her alone so she could prepare for the wedding and her departure from the house. Now she wondered if perhaps more time getting used to his company might have been a better idea. If she’d become more comfortable with him in daylight, perhaps she wouldn’t be quite so panicked about what happened between them after night fell.

  “You’re back to looking like a wet hen.”

  “I wish you’d stop saying that.”

  “I daresay he won’t be too attentive. After all, everyone knows he’s in love with Morwenna Nash.”

  Jane stepped back, even as a great lump of misery coagulated in her empty stomach. “You’re full of cheerful tidings today, dear sister.”

  Susan frowned. “I’m sure I told you the story. He was engaged to her, then—”

  “I know what happened.” Jane put up her hand. “You don’t need to repeat it.”

  Susan looked abashed. “You always like to know the truth, however harsh. I thought…”

  Jane crossed to lift her new lavender dress from the bed with trembling hands. “I’d rather not spend my wedding day dwelling on the woman my husband would prefer to wear his ring.”

  Except the sad truth was that from the first, the ghost of beautiful Morwenna Nash had infiltrated today’s festivities.

  To her surprise, Susan came up and gave her a hug. “I’m sorry. Of course you don’t. I hope you and Hugh will be very happy. He’s a fine man.”

  Leaning against her sister, Jane closed her eyes and prayed for courage. Tears prickled behind her eyelids, as she wished circumstances were different. That she married a man she loved and who loved her. That she didn’t feel like second best.

  And even more futile, that her father hadn’t fallen ill and died. That she hadn’t had to set aside the hopes of her youth and waste her ardent heart in loneliness and drudgery.

  The most pitiful wish of all was that she was as unforgettable as Morwenna. No man would ever break his heart over plain, practical Jane Norris.

  After a second, she shifted away from Susan. Giving in to these childish thoughts was doing her no good. “We’re crushing the dress.”

  Susan surveyed her with surprising shrewdness. Her sister could be selfish and flighty, but nobody in the world knew Jane better. However complicated their relationship, they loved one another. “At least be thankful you don’t love him. It would be purgatory to want a man in thrall to another woman. You’ve always been sensible, Jane, and able to make the best of things. These last years with Papa, you’ve been marvelous. If you hadn’t stepped up, I don’t know what would have become of the estate. Hugh is very lucky to have you.”

  “Even if he doesn’t know it,” Jane said sourly, although she was surprised and moved at Susan’s tribute.

  Susan touched her cheek with unaccustomed fondness. “He’s a smart fellow. He’ll work it out eventually.”

  *

  “What the devil did Susan say to you?” Hugh asked, as their opulent traveling carriage turned out of the drive and headed north.

  Jane stopped staring out at the snowy landscape and stared instead at the man she’d just married. Wearing a disgruntled expression, he sat opposite her in the shadowy interior. Now they were no longer under observation, he didn’t have to play the lover by holding her hand or sitting beside her.

  “Why?” she asked warily.

  “Because you looked quite happy today, until you went upstairs. Since you came down, you’ve been like a dog whose master just died.”

  Not much of an improvement over a wet hen. “I’m sad to leave my home.”

  “And the people you know.” Compassion softened his features. “I’m sure this has been a bittersweet occasion for you in many ways.”

  “The silly thing is I’ve been preparing for this day for years.” She made a helpless gesture. “I always knew that because I’m a girl, I couldn’t inherit, but it doesn’t make it any easier to let Cavell Court go.”

  He smiled at her. “At this moment, I’m very happy you’re a girl.”

  “Thank you.” She wished she could believe that he meant that, instead of it being another example of his endle
ss kindness.

  His dark eyes sharpened. “I suppose Susan criticized your decision to marry me.”

  “Not at all.” Mockery tinged Jane’s smile. “She thinks I’m very lucky to have caught you.”

  He gave a heavy sigh. “And made you feel like a beggar on your wedding day. How very considerate of her.”

  “She loves me.”

  “Why wouldn’t she? Whenever anything unpleasant needs to be done, you step up.”

  It might be true, but she still didn’t like him criticizing her sister. “She couldn’t stay down here with Papa. She has a family.”

  “And I’ll wager over these last difficult years, she did nothing to make life easier or more enjoyable for you.”

  Jane looked at him curiously. “I thought you liked her.”

  “I do. She’s very likable, especially when she’s getting her own way.”

  “That’s not fair,” Jane said, although in many ways it was. She met his skeptical gaze and sighed in capitulation. “Oh, I know she’s spoiled and vain and self-centered, but she’s always been the pretty sister, and as a result, people have indulged her far too much. She’s used to her wishes being paramount. There’s no real harm in her.”

  “You’re worth a hundred of her. You always have been.”

  “Thank you.” Along with her shock, unaccustomed warmth flooded her. “You’re very nice to say that.”

  “It’s not nice. It’s the truth.” He made an impatient sound. “More people see that than you think. It’s a joke that Susan’s convinced you that you’re lucky to marry me. Everyone I met at that wedding breakfast told me I was the lucky one.”

  Jane made a dismissive gesture. “That’s what people say at weddings, Hugh. Don’t pay too much attention.”

  His lips flattened as he folded his arms. “Credit me with the sense to see the difference between social flummery and genuine affection. You were always too ready to discount your good points.”

  She shrugged. “Oh, I’m a steadfast friend and useful in a crisis, and as everyone keeps pointing out, I’m sensible and capable.”

 

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