The Convenient Felstone Marriage

by Jenni Fletcher

  ‘I think I’ve changed my mind.’

  ‘We made a deal, Ianthe.’

  ‘I’m reneging.’

  ‘Too late.’ He folded his arms, though the action seemed to make his muscles bulge even more. ‘I’ve already learnt a poem.’

  ‘Already?’

  ‘Yes. So come here.’

  She pursed her lips. A deal was a deal, but now that she was there, she wasn’t sure she could go through with it. What if he touched her? If he was going to teach her to swim, he’d need to be close to her. If she started to sink, he’d surely have to touch her! She might have to touch him! She was confused enough after what had happened between them on the beach. Touching him definitely wasn’t going to help clarify matters!

  She gasped, the memory of their kiss still making her pulse quicken alarmingly. Even after they’d agreed that love was folly, she’d fallen into the old trap of letting emotion get the better of her, kissing him as if it were natural to do so, as if she weren’t hiding the shameful truth about herself. She’d felt so close to him, closer than she’d ever felt to Albert, drawn towards him like a butterfly to sunshine.

  When he’d told her about his upbringing she’d seen the hurt in his face, that of a young boy, then a young man, craving love from his parents and finding no comfort from either. She’d finally understood why he said he wasn’t capable of love. He had had no experience of it. No wonder he felt such a strong urge to prove himself and his respectability to the world, channelling all his energies into business as if that was the only way he had any value, as if he didn’t truly believe in his own worth.

  The old Ianthe had wanted to comfort him, but the new Ianthe had known better. She couldn’t comfort and deceive him at the same time. If her secret ever came out then it could destroy everything he’d worked for, making whatever comfort she offered him now seem like just another lie. She’d gone to bed that night with guilt gnawing a hole in her stomach.

  ‘The deal was that you read a poem to Matthew. You haven’t done that yet, so I can still call it off.’

  There! She swung on her heel, heading back inside the hut. He’d just have to be angry with her. There was no way she was going into the water with him looking like that. She wasn’t going to let herself be tempted again.

  No sooner had the thought crossed her mind than she felt his hands around her waist, scooping her up and over his shoulder.

  ‘Put me down!’ She pounded her fists against his back, but he ignored her, wading out into deeper water as she wriggled against him.

  ‘We had an agreement, Ianthe.’

  ‘I’ve changed my mind!’

  ‘That’s not allowed.’ His hands tightened around her legs. ‘Not without both parties’ consent.’

  ‘Don’t you dare!’

  The cold water knocked the air from her lungs, sending shock waves cascading through every limb as she splashed around frantically, waving her arms in a panic before she finally found her feet on the seabed.

  ‘How...could...you!’ She stood up, spluttering like a landed fish.

  ‘You don’t renege on a deal.’ His expression was distinctly unsympathetic.

  ‘It’s...so...cold.’ She wrapped her arms around her body, rubbing herself for warmth, not that it made much difference.

  ‘Then let’s try this again. Here.’ He uncurled her arms and reached for her waist. ‘We’ll work on your feet first.’

  ‘What are you doing?’ She leapt away from him with a startled squeak, almost losing her footing again.

  ‘Teaching you to swim. I’ll hold on to your waist, then you kick your legs out behind and move them up and down like this.’ He made a gesture with his arms.

  ‘Oh.’ She tensed as he placed a hand on either side of her body.

  ‘There. Now lean forward, over my arms.’

  She did as he instructed, lying flat in the water, suddenly glad of the cold that disguised her trembling as shivering.

  ‘Good. Now move your feet. Small, steady movements. There’s no need to splash.’

  She kicked her feet out behind her, trying to concentrate on the action and not the feeling of his biceps pressed against her stomach.

  ‘Now stretch your arms out in front of you.’

  After a while she found herself starting to relax, almost to enjoy herself. Robert was a surprisingly patient teacher, and she did want to learn after all. The other bathers, mostly young boys splashing around, made it look so easy and natural. She wanted to be able to swim like that.

  ‘You’re doing well.’ His voice was reassuring. ‘I’m going to let go now.’

  ‘What?’ She twisted her head around in alarm.

  ‘Just keep doing what you’re doing. You won’t get it the first time, but I’ll catch you, I promise.’

  ‘What...?’

  He let go abruptly, and she yelped in panic, opening her mouth and swallowing a mouthful of seawater. Instantly, she scrambled for her feet, but the ground wasn’t there. She was sinking!

  In another moment, she felt hands on her shoulders, pulling her back to the surface.

  ‘Don’t panic.’ Robert laid her flat on her stomach again. ‘Remember, nice smooth movements.’

  ‘I need a rest.’

  ‘Not until you’ve swum a few feet.’

  He pushed her off again and she moved her arms and feet as he’d shown her, propelling herself through the water with ungainly, but apparently successful strokes. She was doing it! Not very well, perhaps, but she was swimming!

  A wave swept towards her, and she thrashed her way through it, losing her rhythm again, but Robert was back at her side instantly, catching her as she started to flounder.

  ‘I did it!’ She flung her arms around his neck triumphantly.

  ‘I saw.’ He grinned, tugging her back towards the shallows. ‘Not bad for a beginner.’

  ‘I swam!’ She tossed her head back, laughing with glee. Her heart was still pounding with fear and excitement, but in a good way. She felt more intensely alive and vital than she had in a long time.

  She could feel the pulse of another heartbeat, too. She gasped, coming back to her senses, belatedly realising where she was and what she was doing. The water was shallow enough for her to stand up in now, but her arms were still coiled around Robert’s neck, her chest still pressed against his, her face only inches away as the waves lapped softly around them. She was pressed up against her husband on a public beach—and she seemed incapable of moving away.

  Instead, she held her breath, waiting for the moment to pass, but it only stretched out, every second deepening the tension between them. She looked into his eyes and felt her insides quiver. Every look he’d given her before seemed to pale in comparison to the one he was giving her now, his grey eyes blazing with an intensity she’d never seen there before.

  ‘You did well, Ianthe.’ His voice was even deeper than usual.

  Another wave, higher and stronger than the rest, swept towards them, and she tightened her hold instinctively. He did so, too, pulling her closer as if afraid she might slip from his grasp, so close that she could feel every hard line and contour of his body. She heaved in a breath, all of her stomach muscles seeming to contract at once. There was no space between them now, not so much as a sliver of air. She could feel every bit of him, even the part pushing between her legs, a hot hard pressure that was obvious even through both their bathing suits.

  ‘Ianthe?’ His voice sounded ragged, as if he were asking some kind of question.

  Somehow she forced herself to breathe. This—whatever this was—couldn’t happen. It wasn’t part of the agreement. It wasn’t the way she ought to behave...

  He took hold of the mob cap and pulled it gently away from her head, fingers stroking her hair as he did so. She inhaled sharply, fighting the urge to pur
r. Some of her pins must have come loose because her bun started to unravel at once, falling in a ponytail down her back. Instinctively, she tipped her head up, arching her throat like the wanton she clearly was, but unable to control herself...

  A shout from the beach made them both start in surprise.

  ‘Matthew!’ Robert recovered first, raising one hand to wave even as the other kept a tight hold of her waist below the water line.

  She twisted her head towards the shore. The boy was running along the sand towards them, accompanied by two men carrying a picnic basket and someone else... She screwed up her eyes to make sure they weren’t deceiving her...a woman dressed entirely in pink, brandishing a large frilly parasol.

  ‘Aunt Sophoria!’

  ‘I thought it would be a nice surprise.’ Robert’s voice was a combination of frustration and apology.

  ‘It is.’ It was—everything except for the timing. She leaned away, trying to extract herself from his grasp before Aunt Sophoria saw them. ‘I should go and get dressed.’

  His hold slackened at last and she waded back towards the hut, trying to escape before any of the new arrivals came close enough to see her flaming cheeks. Once inside, she tore off her wet things, standing naked and dripping in a futile attempt to cool down. Her body seemed to have gone from one extreme of temperature to another. What was wrong with her? All her hard-won self-control seemed to vanish whenever Robert touched her. If Matthew and her aunt hadn’t come along... She took a deep breath. She didn’t know what would have happened, but it was probably best not to think about it.

  She dressed and fixed her hair quickly, hurrying outside to find her husband and aunt sprawled in a pair of deckchairs.

  ‘Ianthe, my dear!’ Aunt Sophoria tossed her parasol to one side. ‘Come and hug an old woman!’

  ‘Aunt Sophoria.’ Ianthe bent down to embrace her. ‘It’s lovely to see you again. I’d no idea you were coming to stay.’

  ‘Just for tonight, dear. Your husband tried to persuade me to stay longer, but you know I like to be amongst my own things. And it’s not as if Pickering’s very far away. We can visit each other as often as we like.’

  ‘We can. It’s still a nice surprise, though. Thank you, Robert.’

  She smiled shyly at her husband, but his expression was unreadable as he lounged in the chair watching them, a towel draped casually around his broad shoulders.

  ‘I’m glad it worked out.’ He heaved himself to his feet. ‘Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a ten-year-old boy to play with. Apparently the picnic can wait.’

  Ianthe watched as he strode away, admiring the way his shoulder muscles rippled beneath his damp costume, before dragging her eyes away quickly as she realised her aunt was watching her.

  ‘I told the footmen to come back in an hour. I hope you don’t mind, but I think we can manage a picnic on our own. It gives us a chance to talk in private.’ Aunt Sophoria settled back in her chair with a wicked grin. ‘So...enjoying married life?’

  ‘Hmmm.’ Ianthe made a vague affirmative sound, sitting down on the blanket and tucking her legs primly beneath her.

  ‘Still just a business arrangement?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Is that why you had your arms around his neck just now?’

  She froze with her hand halfway towards the hamper. ‘He’s teaching me to swim.’

  ‘Swim? Is that what you call it?’ Aunt Sophoria chuckled. ‘Now you’d better tell me everything before he comes back.’

  ‘There’s nothing to tell.’

  Her aunt heaved a languishing sigh. ‘You know, he reminds me of my Horace. A little taller perhaps, but just as handsome.’

  ‘Who’s Horace?’

  ‘My husband, dear.’

  ‘Your what?’

  ‘Husband.’ Aunt Sophoria looked nonplussed. ‘Didn’t your mother ever tell you I’d been married?’

  ‘No.’ Ianthe shook her head in bewilderment. She’d always assumed that her aunt was a spinster. No one had ever mentioned a husband anyway. ‘But aren’t you still called Gibbs?’

  ‘Oh, yes, dear, my parents insisted. When I came back home after a year, they made me tell everyone I’d been staying with relatives. No one in Pickering knows I’ve been married.’

  ‘But why don’t I know about him?’

  ‘I suppose your mother thought it was better kept secret. I haven’t been the best role model, I suppose.’

  ‘So what happened?’

  Aunt Sophoria leaned backwards, her face taking on a dreamy expression. ‘He was a soldier, the handsomest man I ever saw. Black hair, long moustache, dazzling green eyes. We met at a regimental ball and I’d agreed to run away with him by the end of the week.’

  ‘You eloped?’ The very word made her stiffen with panic.

  ‘It was the only way. Neither of us had any money and our families would never have approved.’

  Ianthe gaped open-mouthed, shock giving way to a strange sense of relief. All this time, she’d been afraid of telling her aunt about Albert, yet it seemed that she was the one person who might understand. She’d made the same mistake. If she’d come home after a year, her alliance must have ended badly, too.

  ‘So what made you come home again?’

  ‘He died, dear.’

  ‘Oh!’ She put a hand to her mouth.

  ‘He was posted to Burma. I wanted to go with him, but he said it was too dangerous. Quite rightly, as it turned out. There was an outbreak of cholera in his camp.’

  ‘Oh, Aunt.’ Ianthe wiped at her eyes, brushing away tears. ‘I’m so sorry.’

  ‘So am I, dear. Even forty years later, it still hurts.’

  ‘Did you love him so very much?’

  ‘We loved each other very much. We weren’t romantic like your parents. Their love was based on words and ideas. Ours was somewhat earthier, but just as real.’

  ‘Earthier?’ She frowned in puzzlement. ‘What do you mean?’

  Her aunt’s eyes flashed with amusement. ‘Your mother would never forgive me for telling you. Though I’ve a feeling you might find out on your own.’

  Ianthe looked away quickly, to where Robert and Matthew were splashing about in the shallows. She had a feeling she might have found out already.

  ‘Just like Horace.’ Aunt Sophoria smiled dreamily.

  ‘So you never regretted eloping?’

  ‘Not for a moment.’

  ‘Then you don’t think... That is... Elopements themselves...’ She took a deep breath, the words escaping in a rush. ‘You wouldn’t judge somebody else for doing the same thing?’

  ‘Ah.’ Her aunt’s expression softened with understanding. ‘No, dear, I wouldn’t judge. Is that what happened last year?’

  Ianthe hung her head, shame-faced. ‘We didn’t get far before his family caught up with us. They convinced him that it was a mistake—that I was a mistake. He didn’t really love me, Aunt.’

  ‘Then he wasn’t the right man.’

  She blinked, taken aback by her aunt’s matter-of-fact tone. ‘But it’s so shameful. I was wicked!’

  ‘I don’t see why. Did you pursue him?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Was it your idea to elope?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Did you do anything your mother might have disapproved of?’

  ‘No!’ She felt her cheeks start to burn again. ‘But if people found out they might think that I... That we... That is...’

  ‘Oh, my dear, if you can’t even say it, then you really have nothing to be ashamed of.’ Aunt Sophoria screwed her mouth up thoughtfully. ‘That explains it then.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘All the grey. I knew it wasn’t you.’

  ‘But I wanted it to be!’ Ianthe almost wailed. ‘I wanted to
be sensible and respectable, so nothing like it would ever happen again. I thought I was different, that I’d changed. That’s why I agreed to marry Robert. And now...’

  ‘Now you’re the young woman I remember.’ Aunt Sophoria reached down and patted her cheek. ‘I’m glad to see her again.’

  ‘But you don’t understand, Aunt. I married him under false pretences. He thinks I’m still her, the woman in grey. I haven’t told him any of this. I know I should have, but I couldn’t. I thought that if I could be the respectable wife that he wanted...’

  ‘Then what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him? You might be right. Though I think he’d understand more than most.’

  ‘No!’ Ianthe shook her head adamantly. ‘You don’t know how important respectability is to him. I didn’t realise how much until after we were married. Just look at the way he is with Matthew!’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘He won’t even acknowledge his own son!’

  Aunt Sophoria tilted her head to one side quizzically. ‘But he’s not his son, dear. Who on earth told you that?’

  ‘It’s obvious, isn’t it?’

  ‘It’s obvious that they’re related, but not like that. They both take after their father, that’s all.’

  ‘Their father?’

  ‘Yes, dear, they’re half-brothers.’

  ‘Brothers?’ Ianthe’s mouth dropped open. ‘How do you know?’

  ‘Oh, there were always rumours. Old Theakston wasn’t known for being discreet. Matthew’s mother was another poor housemaid. She came to Pickering after she was dismissed, but she fell ill when the boy was still young. I’ve no idea how your Robert found out about it, but he just turned up one day with a doctor. From what I gather, she asked him to take the boy if anything happened to her.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me any of this before?’

  ‘You said he’d mentioned his ward. I assumed he’d told you the rest. Though I’d no idea they looked so similar. It’s quite incredible really.’

  Ianthe felt the knot of guilt in her stomach tighten painfully. She hadn’t believed Robert when he’d denied that the boy was his son. She’d wronged him instead, condemning him as a hypocrite when in fact the very opposite was true. He was prepared to let most people think the worst just to keep his promise to a dying woman.