Lord Ravenscar's Inconvenient Betrothal

by Lara Temple

  Alan ignored his sister’s double entendre.

  ‘Not quite. I explained to Miss Wallace that though Hollywell House is the right size, we would need to make structural adjustments to it that she might not be willing to countenance.’

  ‘And I explained to Lord Ravenscar that I will not object to adjustments as long as they respect the spirit of the original structure.’

  ‘Could you not find a structure in Bristol?’ Marston asked.

  ‘Not of that size and with grounds where we could construct a manufactory to employ the men. We have found they mend better when they have gainful employment. Believe me, I have looked high and low this past week. We are about to lease a property near Saltford—’

  ‘Which is inadequate by your own admission,’ Lily interrupted. ‘I suggest you swallow your pride and send your men to inspect Hollywell tomorrow, Lord Ravenscar. Now, we should take our places for the second act. Lady Ravenscar is beckoning.’

  * * *

  Finally it was over. Lily kept her smile firmly on her face and tried to listen to Lady Ravenscar, Catherine and Marston dissect the singer’s skills as they moved along with the crowd towards the entrance, but her whole concentration was on the man behind her. As she was edged aside by a portly couple, her shawl caught on the arm of a chair placed against the wall and she paused to untangle it.

  ‘Allow me.’ Alan brushed aside her hands and took the shawl.

  ‘I can do it myself, thank you.’

  ‘Yes, I know, but it’s done. Here, turn around.’

  She met the challenge in his eyes as he held the swathe of silk, aware of the flow of people. To quarrel would only attract attention and more censure. She turned.

  ‘Relax. You’re as stiff as a sail in the high wind,’ he murmured as he draped the shawl over her shoulders. His breath whispered along her exposed nape, stirring the soft hairs there, preparing her flesh for the kiss she knew could not follow. Then his fingers fell away, just skimming the length of her arm as if arranging the silken folds. ‘Birds of paradise. Very fitting... You looked like one in this flock of pigeons and hens. Fire and light and completely out of place. And very hard to capture.’

  His voice sank to a whisper and she shivered, a clammy cold skittering under the heat his words and touch were sparking. She wasn’t hard to capture; she was snared, utterly. Her legs were shaking and she felt ill with the need to turn to him and either slap him for what he was doing to her or beg him to take her out of there, with him. He had hardly touched her, but just that soft brush of his flesh on hers and she was on fire again, it was staining her cheeks, as corrosive as acid. She could hear her own pulse, sharp convulsive gasps of her heart as his fingers curved over her elbow, taking her arm to guide her towards the door and another step towards her fate.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Alan watched the bemused group of men trail along behind Lily as she pointed towards the shuttered windows of the north wing of Hollywell. They stopped and Tippet scribbled on his pad while the two masons stood elbows akimbo, heads cocked to one side like two curious sparrows trailing an exotic bird.

  He should have known it was a mistake to concede even as much as this examination of Hollywell, because the masons and carpenters had already decided it would be easier to modify to their purposes than Saltford and had said so in Lily’s presence, leading to disastrous results. She had commandeered Tippet and the masons, left Catherine and Nicky to inspect the contents of the linen closets and marched off, leaving Alan with the carpenters and workmen to inspect the roofs. Tippet hadn’t even asked for Alan’s approval to disappear with her, the traitor, Alan mused as he watched the mutiny disappear around the corner of the north wing.

  He didn’t know if he had it in him to turn down her offer. He should. If he knew one thing about Lily by now, it was that she needed the safety of an island of her own, which was precisely why she had run here when she had wanted to think. This made her willingness to sacrifice it all the more touching, but for her sake he should keep Hollywell inviolate for her. He should have thought of that before and warned the masons and Tippet to offer all forms of reasonable explanations why Hollywell was inappropriate, but he hadn’t been prepared for her insistence on overseeing them like a little general.

  He sighed. It would lead to another battle royal, but it was unavoidable.

  ‘Is this what you asked for?’

  Alan turned to face the tall man striding across the stable courtyard, the sun striking gold in hair the colour of late wheat and a flash of silver in the deep-set eyes. He was always happy to see Stanton, but the extreme degree of relief he felt at seeing his friend was a sign of how low he had sunk since his arrival in Somerset.

  He took the extended document and clapped his friend on the shoulder.

  ‘Stanton! Damn, it’s good to see you, man. I didn’t expect you to bring it yourself.’

  ‘I’m afraid my curiosity isn’t equal to the challenge of sending a deputy when one of my two best friends requests I procure a special licence from the Archbishop of Canterbury. Especially when that friend is you. What on earth has happened and who is Lily Wallace?’

  Alan tucked the licence into his coat pocket.

  ‘Straight to the crux of the matter as usual. Come, we need some brandy to make this comprehensible. At least I do.’

  ‘That bad? When I warned you that if you ever fell you would fall hard, I didn’t expect it to be on your face, Raven.’

  ‘I was actually happy to see you for a moment there, Stanton. Would you mind saving your compliments until I have a glass in my hand?’

  ‘Not at all. So you managed to secure Hollywell from the new heirs after all? Your last communication wasn’t so promising. What did you do, threaten to set your grandmother on them?’

  ‘No, compromise them. Lily Wallace is the heir.’

  Alan had rarely seen Stanton, the master of diplomatic finesse, bereft of words. He closed the library door and went over to the cupboard where Albert had kept his brandy. He was just handing Stanton his glass when the door opened and Lily and Tippet entered.

  ‘Lord Ravenscar, Mr Tippet and I were wondering... Oh. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt, but I’m afraid the masons need to know whether we plan to open the wall in the north wing.’

  Alan subdued his various warring reactions to her appearance and tried to make sense of her question.

  ‘Why on earth would we need to do that?’

  ‘For the bath chairs. I thought that if we convert the north wing to bedrooms for those who cannot climb the stairs, we should still ensure those men can enter and exit the house without encountering stairs. Like a gangway. A paved one. The north wing is lower lying than the south wing and the mason said we could transform the blind wall at the end of the corridor into another door leading directly to the back courtyard.’

  Her voice slowed as they remained silent, as if explaining something to the very dim. Stanton recovered first and moved towards her, hand extended.

  ‘What an excellent idea. Good morning, Mr Tippet. I will save my graceless friend the bother of making introductions because you must clearly be Miss Wallace. I am Lord Alexander Stanton. What a pleasure to meet you.’

  Alan waited for the inevitable reaction almost all women had when confronted with Stanton. When he bothered to charm them, which was rarely, they fell like ninepins. When he employed that smile, the effect was often catastrophic.

  Lily took the extended hand and smiled and Alan relaxed. He knew the shades of her smiles and this one was friendly, curious, but definitely not bowled over.

  ‘Ah, the least wild of the Wild Hunt Club. You are in the Foreign Office, correct?’

  Stanton’s smile widened.

  ‘Correct on both counts. The gangway is an interesting idea; I wonder why we never thought of it.’

  ‘I will treat that as a rhetorical quest
ion, Lord Stanton, since any answer I give is likely to offend. Are you here to help?’

  ‘I admit I did come here to help, but I see my offices are absolutely unnecessary.’

  Lily’s eyes narrowed and she pulled her hand away from Stanton’s lingering clasp and looked past him to Alan.

  ‘Shall I tell them to make the measurements, then, Lord Ravenscar?’

  He nodded, unequal to arguing with her at the moment, and she smiled at both of them and left, Tippet at her heels.

  They both stood watching the closed door for a moment.

  ‘I’m losing my touch,’ Stanton said. ‘And you’ve either lost your heart or found your senses. That was not what I was expecting.’

  ‘Lily is not what anyone would expect.’

  ‘No details until I have a glass in my hand. I’m parched after driving all the way on my mission to save my best friend from being forced to the altar against his wishes.’

  ‘Can you?’

  ‘Even if I could, I am not certain I would. I like her. A paved gangway. Since when is she part of the Hope House effort?’

  ‘Since this morning. Or rather since yesterday when she offered us Hollywell. I hadn’t realised my tentative agreement to consider Hollywell included allowing her to shadow Tippet and the masons and to set my sister and niece to cataloguing the linen, but to be fair it is her property.’

  ‘A young lady accustomed to command. Interesting. Tell me about her.’

  Alan handed him a glass and told him.

  ‘If you laugh, I’ll do some damage to that perfect face of yours, Stanton,’ he concluded as his friend’s smile hovered on the edge of a grin.

  ‘I won’t, I promise. I’m as worried as hell. I never would have placed odds that you and Hunter would both become tenants for life within two months of each other after a lifetime of evading that fate with such religious zeal. My faith in my abilities to predict the future actions of men or nations is sadly shaken. But did she have to be an heiress? You know this will just give credence to all those tales about the dispossessed rake. Does the fact that you have been allowed back into the Hall mean you are now restored into your grandmother’s good graces as well?’

  ‘Since she isn’t restored into mine, I neither know nor care. We are in a state of armed neutrality and I am staying at the Hall merely to ensure our courtship, such as it is, has credibility. I don’t need Jezebel’s money and you know it.’

  ‘Still, if you are going to marry and have a brood of children, you will need a home.’

  ‘Marry, yes, children, no. And I have a home. Two of them.’

  ‘A house by a manufactory in Birmingham and a bachelor’s residence on St James’s Street most certainly do not qualify as homes. But you cannot still be serious about not breeding. Even if that young woman believes this is merely a marriage of form, she cannot be so naïve not to know you are likely to bed her. I saw the way you were watching us. You were ready to drive a carriage between us if need be.’

  He shrugged. He wasn’t ready yet to put into words his chaotic thoughts and feelings.

  ‘Wanting to bed a woman and willingly making a pact with the devil are two different things. You know I swore never to have any children.’

  ‘You swore never to marry and never to cross your grandmother’s threshold, too, so forgive me for not being impressed with your record.’

  ‘This is different.’

  ‘I agree, it bloody well is. You cannot possibly mean to marry that delectable girl and keep that resolve.’

  ‘I am perfectly capable of bedding a woman without leading to conception, I have been doing so quite successfully for almost half my life.’

  ‘Yes, but this would be your wife, Raven. Surely she wants children?’

  Alan went to refill his glass and Stanton continued.

  ‘How long are you going to punish yourself? This makes no sense.’

  ‘I am not punishing myself. Quite the opposite. Having a child would be the ultimate punishment.’

  ‘So you would condemn her to a life without offspring merely because you are a coward.’

  Alan winced, though it was the truth. The rushing river of fear, pain and need that had coursed through him at Nicky’s excited babblings about children had still not quieted. The images clung—Lily reading aloud, with a little red-haired girl leaning on her and on her other side, more shadowy, a little boy, dark haired, small hands curved around a ball.

  He made a last effort to cling to the vision of his fate he had presented to Lily by the lake.

  ‘I won’t stop her if she wishes to...go her own way. As long as she is discreet, she is welcome to conceive as many children as she can bear, literally and figuratively. The ton is littered with other men’s offspring anyway. I don’t see why I should be any different.’

  Stanton shook his head.

  ‘My God, you’re even more cold-blooded than I thought. No wonder she is considering Marston’s offer. Are you purposely trying to drive her away?’

  ‘No. I am merely trying to ensure she isn’t disappointed.’

  Stanton stood up. ‘If you set the bar any lower, she won’t have any choice but to step over it, Alan. Now, as much as I would love to continue observing the details of your downfall, I’ve left my poor horses out there and it’s been a long drive. I’ll rack up at the Pelican in Bristol, so come pay your respects before I drive back tomorrow.’

  ‘Busy?’

  ‘Very. I’m off to Vienna to discuss how far south the Austrians can go in Italy. I told Hunter I’d come and save you if need be, but if I couldn’t, it is up to him and Nell to hold your hand during the ceremony.’

  ‘They might not have to follow your directives after all if Marston gets his way. As for you, try not to get kidnapped by pirates or shot by princes this time. I might be too busy in the near future to come to your rescue again.’

  ‘To be fair I had already escaped when you and Hunter came to rescue me from Derna and it was the veiled bride who was my saviour of sorts on Illiakos, so I think I shall survive even if you are too busy lying to yourself about how much you are the captain of your fate, Raven. I wish I could delay sailing just for the pleasure of watching your expression as you sign the register under the parson’s beaming smile, but I promise to try to be there for the christening.’

  * * *

  Alan watched the curricle disappear down the drive and turned to inspect the façade of the house. A little sunshine, however weak, made any house seem more welcoming and Hollywell was no exception. They had done nothing yet and already it looked more like the home he remembered from Jasper and Mary’s days. It only reinforced his conviction that Lily should not relinquish her sanctuary. He might not need a home in the sense that Stanton just mentioned, but Lily did and he knew what this place symbolised for her. If she gave them Hollywell, she would have nothing that was truly hers. All her money amounted to nothing more than a banker’s draft waiting to be withdrawn by whoever married her. Hollywell had come to mean something different for her, and if he took that, too... In a fair world this should be her home, someplace she could be safe and build her own world. Have the family she wanted. Not as his mistake or as Marston’s property.

  Could he do it? Let go that last vow and risk the pain. For her.

  She would be a good mother. Both stronger and more vulnerable than his. He could see how his mother had never known how to navigate the barriers set by his grandparents. Lily would probably have put his rigid grandfather to flight and tamed his grandmother just as she had these past weeks. All that pain and need inside her only made her strong. What was she asking for in the end? A child. So what if it felt like she was the guardian of hell asking for his soul? Perhaps this was his punishment, to risk that pain again.

  This was the real choice—release her to marry Marston or tell her he would marry her on her terms.

 
; No, the real choice was whether he was willing to allow her into his life. Or whether he was capable of letting her go. If so, he had better do so sooner rather than later because with each passing hour that thought was becoming more unacceptable.

  The rumble of wheels alerted him and he turned at the top of the steps to see a carriage approaching. He cursed under his breath and waited for the carriage to draw up and the footman to lower the steps.

  ‘Hello, Marston, Miss Marston. Welcome to Hollywell. To what do we owe this pleasure?’ He stood back to wave them up the stairs into the house, wishing them at the devil.

  ‘Penny and I decided to take advantage of the fine weather to pay a visit. Lady Ravenscar’s butler informed us you were all at Hollywell. Since our visit is partly motivated by some news I have heard which might be pertinent for your effort here, we decided to join you.’

  He paused as three figures appeared at the top of the stairs and smiled.

  ‘Good afternoon, Lady Catherine, Miss Wallace. And this must be your beautiful daughter, Lady Catherine. We apologise for the intrusion.’

  ‘You are always welcome, but I’m afraid Hollywell isn’t ready to receive guests, Mr Marston,’ Lily said as she descended. When she was in her social mode, Alan found it hard to gauge her thoughts, but the very fact that she had withdrawn into her cool shell was telling. She was nervous and alert. He had no idea if that boded ill for him or for Marston. ‘But the library is almost habitable, so we should proceed there. Unless Tabby and Grim have laid it to waste again.’

  ‘Who?’ Penny asked curiously, and Nicky launched into an animated recounting of the haunting which Lily had shared with her and Catherine. Mr Marston watched his daughter with Nicky for a moment and smiled.

  ‘Together they look like that child’s tale my daughter used to love, Snow-White and Rose-Red. She would imagine she had a sister like Rose-Red, dark haired and lively.’

  Catherine smiled. ‘That certainly describes Nicola.’