If Arabella was considered stubborn, there was no doubt in her mind where she had picked up that particular trait. Mother was either deaf or pretending to be. To keep the peace, she would go along with her—for now. Once Lord Clarendon had come to his senses, life would return to normal.
A bit of fear nudged her. If life were to have any semblance of contentment for her, Clarendon simply must agree to cry off.
…
Nash sat very still as the solicitor explained Lady Arabella’s dowry, and why the amount had dwindled since it had first been set up. It appeared Lord Melrose had played fast and easy with his money. After that was gone he’d dipped first into the money set aside for his wife should he pre-decease her, and had then pilfered a chunk of his daughter’s dowry. Her original amount of three thousand pounds had been reduced to a little more than five hundred.
Five hundred! Rumor had it that Lady Grace’s dowry had been six thousand, and he’d depended on that to infuse some life into his estate. In addition to the lack of funds he now had available to him, most likely he would need to support his mother-in-law, since her portion was gone, and when the new heir returned, she would be without a home.
“I am sorry to be the bearer of bad news, my lord. I had cautioned the late earl that things were becoming dire, but even during the year he’d been ill, he somehow managed to find ways to wager.” The solicitor tugged at his neckcloth.
“Tell me, Mr. Manson, how has Lady Melrose fared the year since his lordship died? The few times I’ve seen Lady Arabella, she seemed well turned out, and I assume they maintained their household and staff.”
The solicitor laid the pen he’d been fiddling with on the desk in front of him. “That is another reason Lady Arabella’s dowry is only five hundred. Once his lordship died, and against my advice, the trust fund passed into Lady Melrose’s name. Food, household supplies, staff salaries, and clothing have been paid from that fund. Lady Melrose continuously assured me that Lady Arabella would make a successful match and their money problems would be at an end.”
This was certainly a dilemma. While his situation was nowhere near as unfortunate as Lady Melrose and her daughter, he still needed to put some money into repairs on the Suffolk manor house. He also had plans to improve on the land so his tenants could produce more. The returns he’d been receiving from his steward had dwindled each year, much like his betrothed’s dowry, only he hadn’t been frittering the money away on gaming and other pursuits.
Well, there was nothing to be done for it. He would have to make do with what he had, and as soon as the blasted wedding was over, he would return to Suffolk and see if he could figure out how to make his estate more profitable.
After they worked out the contracts, Nash headed to White’s to cap off the meeting with a whiskey. Soon it would be time to pick up his betrothed for their carriage ride in Hyde Park. The two of them together would help squash any rumors that might have started about last evening. Although Lady Arabella had not been his chosen bride, nevertheless now she was, and he did not want his future countess’s reputation sullied.
He settled into a chair and signaled for a drink. He’d only taken a sip when Mr. Edmund Kilroy plopped himself into the seat across from him. The man had been an annoyance to Nash since their days at Eton. Never very popular with the other fellows, Kilroy tended to link up with whatever group was badgering a lone student. He joined the harassment, vicious at some points, always looking for praise from the group bully. One semester Nash had been the chosen one to be tortured. The following year, Kilroy had attempted to befriend him. He’d had no use for the man.
“Were I you, I am not sure I would be walking these halls. At least without sufficient protection.” Kilroy moved his mouth in a stupid grin. “You cost several men a great deal of money by switching brides last night.”
Not wishing to discuss the situation, especially with Kilroy, who was known for gossiping as much as the ladies, Nash grunted and took another sip of his drink.
“What happened, man? It was well known that you were all but leg-shackled to Lady Grace.”
Nash placed his now-empty glass on the small table alongside him. Since Kilroy had made his visit disagreeable by his presence, it was time he made his way home to prepare for his ride with Lady Arabella. He stood and glowered at the man. “Whom I choose to marry—not leg shackle—is my own, and the lady in question’s, business.”
“I hear you were forced to offer for her because her virtue was in question.” The odious man wiggled his eyebrows which gave rise to a swift surge of anger pulsing through Nash’s body.
He leaned down and placed his hand on Kilroy’s shoulder, pressing firmly enough that the man winced. “Should I hear any more comments from any source about my betrothed’s virtue or lack thereof, I will take it as a direct insult to me and personally seek you out and thrash you.” He squeezed harder. “Is there anything about that statement you find unclear?”
Kilroy shook his head.
“Good.” Nash straightened and strolled away, the slight altercation with Kilroy not assuaging the anger at the man’s comments. He still felt like thrashing someone.
Truthfully, part of his anger rose from his financial situation. The money he’d counted on would not be there, and he would have to work hard not to direct his anger toward his bride. Not that it was her fault, of course. The earl had left his wife and daughter in an untenable position. Lady Melrose had attempted to right their circumstances by marrying her daughter off to—from all accounts—a wealthy earl. Except her bumbling had resulted in her marrying off her daughter to the wrong earl.
He had no sooner handed his hat, gloves, and cane to his butler, Quinn, than his mother hurried down the stairs, her face flushed. “There you are, Nash. I have been waiting all morning and most of the afternoon to speak with you. Whatever happened at the Ashbourne ball last eve?”
Nash pinched the bridge of his nose. How did one tell one’s mother to please retire to her bedchamber to allow him time to compose his thoughts before he began a lengthy explanation of that which still confused him?
“If you will join me in the library, Mother, I will be happy to answer any of your questions.” He followed her down the corridor. Once they entered the library, he headed straight for the sideboard and poured himself another whiskey. “Would you care for a sherry?” When she shook her head, he added, “Tea?”
“No. What I would like are some answers.”
He settled into the soft leather chair behind his desk. “I assume from your demeanor that you’ve heard I became betrothed last night.” He took a long, slow swallow of the liquor.
“I did. However, not to the woman I assumed would be your chosen bride. Not Lady Grace, but Lady Arabella, the late Earl of Melrose’s daughter! I wasn’t even aware you two knew each other.”
“We did.” Deciding to keep to himself the fiasco in the park yesterday afternoon, he answered, “We danced a couple of times. She is also a friend of Eugenia’s. I’ve seen her several times at Devon’s townhouse.”
“And based on that scant contact you decide to spend the rest of your life with her?” His mother’s voice rose a couple of octaves.
He eyed her over the top of his glass. “Be careful, Mother. The decision as to whom I marry is mine alone.”
She waved her hand. “Of course, it is. I am not questioning your choice—”
“Aren’t you?”
Mother sighed. “All right, perhaps a bit, but I feel very confused. Although you hadn’t come out and said so, I was of the impression that you would be offering for Lady Grace.”
“The idea had crossed my mind.” He was reluctant to admit, even to his own mother, that he’d been duped into offering for the wrong girl. Although, most likely she had already been told the story of how they’d been discovered locked in an embrace in a dark library, in the middle of a ball.
“If you have been listening to well-meaning friends, I will attempt to explain as best I can. Lady Arabella ca
me into the Ashbourne’s library during the ball, seeking her mother, from whom she had received a note. I was there to gain some quiet. When she determined her mother was not there, she turned to leave and stumbled. I caught her, and the door opened to several people taking in the scene.”
Mother sniffed. “Well, that certainly sounds as though the girl set it up.”
Nash stiffened. Not even from his mother would he accept criticism of his betrothed. “No, she did not. She was as shocked and dismayed at being discovered in there as I was.” He stood and walked around the desk, resting his hip on the edge. “I did the only thing I could to avoid her complete ruination and offered for her. It is done. She will be my countess, and I expect everyone to accept her as such. I will take her driving this afternoon so the entire world can see that we are both happy.”
“Are you?”
“What?”
“Happy?”
Was marriage a place where one looked for happiness? All he had been searching for was a woman to be his countess, run his household, and rear his children. He’d had no desire for romance, love, or the elusive “happiness,” though contentment did rank high on his list.
Now, without the funds Lady Grace would have brought, contentment might be a dream he needed to chase for a while. So far, he had kept their precarious situation to himself, and Mother’s lack of knowledge in that regard would remain that way. There was no reason to burden her with that information.
But to appease the woman who had birthed and raised him, he would give her the answer she hoped to hear. “Yes, Mother. I am happy.”
Chapter Five
Arabella tugged on her gloves as she descended the stairs to join Lord Clarendon at the entrance hall where he chatted amiably with Mother. Despite the unseasonably cool weather and the threat of rain, he had arrived promptly at five o’clock to escort her on a ride through Hyde Park. Apparently, whatever he and her mother had discussed the night before had not put them at odds.
He turned toward her, and something flickered in his eyes that she was unable to identify. Or perhaps she imagined it. Once again, she was mindful of his appearance. His dark blue woolen tailcoat brought depth to his blue eyes. The rest of his ensemble, starched cravat, well-fitting breeches, blue and silver waistcoat, along with well-polished Hessian boots, spoke of a young, wealthy, titled gentleman calling on his betrothed.
She shivered, not at all comfortable with that designation, and anxious to have all of that resolved. “My lord,” Arabella offered a curtsy.
Clarendon bowed. “Good afternoon, my lady. Are you ready for our ride?”
Nodding stiffly, she took his arm and they left the house, Mother’s gleeful farewell echoing in Arabella’s ears.
A four-wheeled curricle, with two lively Cleveland Bays tossing their heads, stood in front of the townhouse. Clarendon helped her into the vehicle, then strode around the front and joined her. “Comfortable?”
“Yes, my lord.”
He snapped the ribbons and the horses moved forward, the clopping rhythm of their hooves on the cobblestones matching the pounding of her heart. What would she say to this man? Except for their recent fiasco, they were strangers, yet it was expected of her to behave as an engaged woman. The sooner she disavowed him of that idea, the better she would feel.
“Since we are betrothed, my dear, perhaps I can convince you to leave off with the ‘my lord’ and call me by name?”
No time like the present. “Yes, Clarendon.” Goodness, was that her voice? She sounded like a squealing mouse with a cat on its tail.
He grinned. “Actually, I prefer Nash.”
“Nash?”
“Yes, my given name. Once I assumed my father’s title, for all the world, I was Clarendon. However, my mother and sister have never relinquished the name I answered to for years.”
“And now you wish me to use that name, as well?” Dear God.
He studied her from under thick, dark eyelashes. Was there no part of the man not attractive?
“Unless that makes you uncomfortable?”
Uncomfortable? She wanted to jump from the curricle and run screaming back to her house. To sanity. “No, my lo—Nash. I am not uncomfortable at all.”
Liar.
She cleared her throat. “However, there is something I’d like to discuss that does make me uncomfortable.”
One arrogant eyebrow rose.
“I must insist, as I did last evening, that there is no need for a betrothal. If you wish to pretend to be engaged for a—very short—period of time, I believe that will be sufficient to ward off any talk of ‘ruination.’”
“No.”
A slow burning started in her stomach. “I insist.”
“No.”
Her fingers tightened on her parasol handle. She had to stamp down the very strong urge to smack him over the head with it. “I think I deserve the right to have a say in this.”
“No.”
A parasol would not be strong enough. Perhaps a heavy rock along the pathway would suffice. Using two hands she could probably lift it.
“Smile,” he said, nodding to three older ladies of the ton passing them by.
She gritted her teeth, moving her mouth into a semblance of a smile. A Hyde Park afternoon ride was famous among the Quality. The latest fashions were flaunted, and the most recent on dits shared and remarked upon. Marriage-minded mamas displayed their daughters to their best advantage while taking note of the young gentlemen, assessing wealth and titles. The idea was to see, and be seen.
Like all other young ladies of Society, Arabella had accepted her share of carriage rides. Oftentimes with her mother, once or twice with a gentleman and her maid, and many times with friends.
This ride was like no other. The minute their carriage joined the queue, heads turned in their direction and fans rose to cover gossiping mouths. Arabella refused to succumb to the desire to duck her head. Instead, she raised her chin and smiled in the direction of the carriages they passed.
“Good girl. Do not let them intimidate you.” Nash spoke to her out of the side of his mouth, keeping his eyes on the carriage in front of them.
“I have no intention of allowing any such thing.” The statement would perhaps be more benign had her voice not snapped with anger. Who were these people to judge her?
“I believe conversation would be pleasant.” Nash turned to her and smiled. “Remember, the purpose of this ride is to assure all is well. As a newly betrothed couple, we are supposed to be enjoying ourselves. Please forgive my poor manners, but right now you look as though you could snap the handle of your parasol in half. Or at least strike someone over the head with it. Hopefully, not me.”
“The thought did cross my mind, but I feel it is not strong enough to do sufficient damage to your hard head. Just because we are in full view of the gossipers of the world, do not think I have accepted your edict on marriage. We will discuss this further when we leave the park.”
Arabella attempted a smile for the gawkers. Then, thinking about the ridiculousness of it all, she gave Nash a genuine grin. Again, the same look flitted across his face she’d witnessed in her entrance hall. Whatever was that all about?
“Actually, I am enjoying myself.” Startled, she realized it was true. The threat of rain had diminished, and sun peeked out from behind now-scattered clouds. With the sun visible, the air had warmed up a bit. She rode alongside a handsome man, in a stylish carriage, among fashionable people. ’Twas the first time that had occurred, since all her prior male carriage companions had been men older than her mother.
Since nothing would be resolved right now, she relaxed and actually looked around. Brightly colored carriage dresses decorated the path as young ladies rode, walked, or trotted on horseback.
“Tell me a bit about yourself, Arabella.” He glanced at her sideways. “I assume I am permitted to use your given name?”
“Yes, of course. Since I am friends with Eugenia, I assume you already know a little about me.”
/>
“A few things. I also know you like to take cats to the park that escape your hold and require rescue.”
Arabella shifted her parasol handle from one shoulder to the other as the vehicle took a turn in the other direction. She tilted her head and smiled. “And I know you spend time at parks to be available for young ladies to ask you to rescue their animals.” She tilted her head in a saucy manner and spun her parasol.
Nash grinned. “Ah, but that is not so. I was merely taking a stroll, trying to enjoy the day, when I was accosted by a screeching furry banshee, with a pretty young lady running after her in a most unladylike manner.”
She flushed. He thought she was pretty? “’Tis hard for one to maintain the demeanor of a lady when one is chasing a cat in the park.”
One eyebrow shot up. “I will need to take your word for that, my dear, since I have never been a lady chasing a cat in the park.”
“You must excuse me if I laugh at the image of you dressed in a gown.” Arabella’s smile faltered. “You have an aversion to animals, then?”
“Not so. I do not dislike animals, I am merely unable to be in the presence of some without suffering a sneezing fit.”
“Miss Aphrodite?”
“Indeed.” He shifted to look at her. “Whatever possessed you to name that devil’s spawn Miss Aphrodite?”
“You do not believe it suits her, my lord?”
He shook his head. “And you, my dear, have managed to dodge my initial question quite nicely. Tell me something about yourself.”
“And then you will do the same?” Lord, she was actually flirting with him. That would not do. Flirting was the forerunner to romance, and all the entanglements following. If she were foolish enough to actually consider this arrangement—a startling thought, that—her life would no longer be her own. Before she knew it, Nash would be controlling her, which she had no intention of tolerating.
“I am the only child of the late Earl of Melrose. I’m sure you know, as most of Society does, once he died, his estate passed into the hands of a distant relative. He will be traveling here to take possession in a few months.”
Marrying the Wrong Earl (Lords & Ladies in Love) Page 5
