Married at Midnight: An Authentic Regency Romance

by Arabella Sheraton

  On Wednesday morning they were packed and ready to depart. Ned Skelton and Peters accompanied them. Becky was too terrified at the idea of “Lunnon” to accompany Roxanne, so Julian put the shivering servant out of her misery by saying that Sophia could spare one of her own maids for Roxanne. Mrs. Dawson had supervised the packing of Roxanne’s borrowed finery with glee and was hard pressed not to pack more lively colours than the few outfits that might pass muster as mourning clothes.

  “It’s not as if there’s much choice,” Mrs. Dawson grumbled.

  The array of clothing in the wardrobe revealed Sophia’s penchant for flamboyance. However, Becky managed to unearth three gowns of demure style and muted hue and an olive green travelling dress.

  “This will have to do,” said Roxanne, “until we get to London.”

  Mrs. Dawson’s sour expression and dire mutterings revealed her opinion on spending money on funeral clothing that could be better spent on finery more appropriate to the future Countess of Pennington.

  Julian presented Roxanne with three sets of jewellery, which he hastened to tell her were on loan.

  “It’s just that even though we won’t be doing much gallivanting around town, as my betrothed, one will expect you to at least have some jewellery. Ostensibly, you are the future Countess of Pennington and people will think I have used you most shabbily if I do not demonstrate my affections towards you.”

  Roxanne had thought the pearl set pretty and quite the nicest. The other two sets were a ruby and pearl and a diamond and sapphire set. None of the sets was in any way ostentatious, but their elegant simplicity spoke of the value the stones represented.

  “I’ll look after them carefully,” Roxanne vowed.

  “As soon as we get to Sophia’s she can have Silverton lock them away with her collection of gimcracks.”

  He grinned as he said this so Roxanne was sure that Sophia’s gems were marvellous.

  “Are there many family jewels besides this ring,” she asked, lifting her hand. The wedding band must be left behind since they were, of course, only betrothed.

  “Lord, yes!” Julian grimaced. “The Trevallons have been around since Good Queen Bess, so we’ve managed to accumulate quite a large collection. It’s all safely locked up, of course, at my father’s bank in London. Some huge tiaras that look so heavy no wonder the countesses of yore complained of stiff necks, plus all the necklaces and bracelets and things to go with them.”

  “If you needed money for restoring the estate, why didn’t you sell the jewellery?”

  Julian looked so shocked that Roxanne regretted her question.

  “Never!” he expostulated. “A Trevallon would rather starve to death than sell anything from the estate. I’m just fortunate that Penrose and the estates were entailed so that my father couldn’t sell anything of it to clear Bevin’s debts. He used his own money.”

  Roxanne subsided into silence after his outburst. Clearly Penrose dominated Julian’s thoughts. Roxanne felt that surely selling a few unwieldy pieces of jewellery would go a long way to helping matters. However, she sighed, there was no need now anyway since the marriage meant Julian’s inheritance was forthcoming.

  The journey was completed in good time and without mishap. It was growing dark as the carriage clattered into a fashionable London suburb. Roxanne had peered out the window every now and then to see if she recognised any of the streets from her previous experience. However, her thoughts were correct. The Duke of Silverton lived in far more elevated circumstances than the flea-bitten inn she had gone to with Edgar. Roxanne felt relieved when the carriage drew up in front of an imposing house in Mount Street. A liveried footman scampered down the stairs to assist the visitors.

  As Roxanne stepped out of the carriage, she looked up at the façade of the elegant townhouse.

  “Is Sophia very grand?” she asked.

  Julian squeezed her hand. “Not at all. She’s a total nitwit, very pretty and without an ounce of common sense. But a more loving and generous person I have yet to find. She’s not at all snobbish, even though she made one of the finest matches of the Season. And I believe she married for love.”

  As if to prove his words correct, no sooner had they crossed the threshold when a bundle of blonde curls and long gauzy scarves flung itself into Julian’s arms, squeaking, “Julian, how marvellous to see you at last!”

  The whirlwind turned upon Roxanne and embraced her, all the while chattering and kissing her cheeks.

  “Oh, my word, look at how beautiful you are. Julian, you are very sly to have concealed Roxanne from me! Roxanne, I vow I am so jealous. You will quite outshine me. Julian, you are a wicked brother!”

  Julian held up his hands, laughing. “Sophia, can we get a word in somewhere?”

  At last their hostess stopped talking and hugging them and stepped back to scrutinise her guests. She was exactly the same height and size as Roxanne, but managed to convey an impression of fragility by wearing several gauze scarves that lent an air of delicacy to her appearance.

  “Good heavens, Sophia!” exclaimed her brother. “You’re not still trailing all those scarves around are you?”

  When Sophia pouted in mock anger, Julian turned to Roxanne and said, “One of Sophia’s admirers penned some very bad verse regarding Sophia’s ‘wan and ethereal beauty, so much like Diana, moon-beaméd she goes’ or some such rubbish.” He struck a dramatic pose and then fell to his knees, clutching his chest. “Moon-beaméd! What a joke.”

  Sophia, giggling, slapped him. “Oh, stop that! How could I insult Mr. Hardwicke so by not dressing just a little as he described me?”

  She widened her eyes as she gave her brother a meaningful stare. “Just you wait until I introduce Roxanne to Mr. Hardwicke. What will you do when he delivers screeds of poorly constructed verse praising Roxanne’s emerald eyes?”

  Julian stopped laughing and got to his feet. To her surprise, Roxanne detected a note of what might be described as jealousy in his voice. “I should throw him out.”

  “No, you should not!” retorted his sister. “You will do as I say and be polite to him.”

  Roxanne could not help smiling. Sophia was as ingenuous and kind as her brother had described her.

  Linking her arm through Roxanne’s, Sophia pulled her guest up the stairs while waving her free hand towards the baggage.

  “Julian, please direct Jennings to dispose of the bags and go and make yourself comfortable somewhere. I have to introduce my new sister to her nephew.”

  Jennings steered him into the library saying he would dispose of all household arrangements while Sir refreshed himself at His Grace’s liquor cabinet. Julian, grateful to escape the domestic hurly-burly, eased himself into a chair with a large brandy.

  Roxanne was shown the nursery where young Master Francis reigned supreme. At almost two years, he was a delightful child, albeit a little spoiled by his doting nurse. His mama was surprisingly strict with him, announcing that she was not going to let the future heir of Silverton grow up to be a spoiled brat.

  Roxanne tickled the child’s chubby red cheeks and murmured, “And Pennington, of course.”

  Sophia turned astonished blue eyes upon her sister-in-law. “Now why ever should that be so?”

  “Julian said something about Francis being his heir,” Roxanne stammered.

  Sophia shook her head and irritation marred her pretty features. “I thought he’d given up on all that fanciful nonsense years ago. He can’t still feel so bitter. Anyway, he’s married now. How on earth can he still hold to that ridiculous idea?”

  “I’m not sure what you mean,” Roxanne replied, regretting her words.

  Of course, Sophia assumed that Roxanne would soon fall pregnant. She could not explain to Sophia that the marriage was false and that there certainly would not be an heir forthcoming. With a sinking heart, Roxanne realised that this was the assumption most people would make. She wanted to change the subject, but could not resist finding out why Julian was so against a pr
oper marriage and an intimate relationship.

  The two women sat on the nursery floor, with Master Francis demonstrating to them the intricacies of his painted building bricks. As his blond head bobbed up and down, Roxanne smiled at the child.

  “Years ago,” Sophia said, with a note of impatience in her voice, “Julian announced he would never marry and he would never have children. It was at the time Bevin was killed, and Father died soon after that. Julian became the new earl, of course. Anyway, he launched into this long tirade about how he never wanted a son who could hurt him as much as Bevin had hurt Father. He also said no woman should have to face possible death as a result of his selfish desires.”

  Roxanne looked puzzled.

  “Childbirth!” exclaimed Sophia. “My mother died in childbirth and Father made me feel guilty all my life for it.”

  “But why?” asked Roxanne. “It was hardly your fault.”

  “Well, he thought so.” Sophia’s reply was tart. “And he more or less ignored me after that. If Aunt Semphronia hadn’t come along, reared me, and launched me into society, I’d still be rotting away at Penrose. I don’t know how Julian manages to stick it out there. I hate the place and I certainly don’t want Francis to end up with it.”

  “Julian loves Penrose and he has done so much already to improve it.” Roxanne knew she sounded defensive of Julian.

  Sophia looked closely at Roxanne. “You really love him, don’t you?” she said slowly.

  Roxanne was saved from replying because the young heir of Silverton, seeing that his two visitors’ admiring attention was flagging, hit his mama on the head with a wooden brick.

  “Bwick, Mama!” he chuckled.

  “Ouch!” cried Sophia. “Right, young man! If you can’t behave with ladies present, you shall go to bed.”

  Before her son’s snivelling could even begin, Sophia beckoned to an anxiously hovering Nurse who whisked her young charge off to play with his toys in the bath.

  The moment passed to Roxanne’s relief. Did she love Julian, she wondered. Impossible! Their one and only kiss was an emotional impulse both of them felt compelled to enact because of the circumstances surrounding the wedding, and the wine…yes, the wine was also to blame. Satisfied that she could not possibly love Julian at such short notice, she followed her hostess downstairs.

  Sophia threw Roxanne’s thoughts into turmoil when she reached the foot of the stairs by a remark carelessly tossed over one shoulder. “Well, he loves you, that’s very clear.”

  Roxanne felt her chest grow tight. “What—” she squawked.

  Sophia turned round to face her and took Roxanne’s hands in hers. “Oh, promise me you and Julian are not like these fashionable couples who think falling in love is somehow bourgeois. You see, I love Philip so much, and I know that Julian deserves a woman who truly loves him for who he is, not for what he’ll become once he receives his fortune.” Sophia’s gaze was intense. She gave Roxanne a little shake. “Promise me! Promise me!”

  Just then Julian sauntered into view. “Promise what?” he asked.

  Sophia and Roxanne both looked at him with guilty expressions. Roxanne found her voice first. She smiled at Sophia.

  “Yes, of course I promise I will see your modiste first thing tomorrow morning. I’m so looking forward to visiting the shops.”

  Julian rolled his eyes. “Well, if that isn’t my sister all over. We haven’t been here five minutes and already she is planning shopping trips.”

  Sophia gave Roxanne’s fingers a grateful squeeze. “We’ll dine early this evening,” she announced. “I’m sure you’re both tired.” Tossing her head, she remarked to her brother, “So see you don’t keep my husband up all night playing cards and drinking.” Her golden curls danced as she shot a mischievous glance at Roxanne.

  Julian sputtered in indignation. “What? Nonsense! It’s the other way round. Silverton has a hard head and I cannot keep up with him, no matter how I try.”

  Laughing, Sophia whispered to Roxanne, “If you’d like to dress before dinner, I will send Sally to you. She’s young and hasn’t much experience, but she’s a good girl and just longing to become a lady’s maid.”

  Murmuring her thanks, Roxanne followed her hostess to the room that had been prepared for her. Sophia flung the door open and Roxanne stepped into a charming lady’s boudoir, decorated in pale pinks and mauves. She clapped her hands in delight. Sophia looked pleased.

  “I knew you’d like it,” she declared. “I’ve put Julian next door to you so you won’t feel lonely in the night. And I promise I won’t hear a thing.”

  When Roxanne blushed bright red Sophia burst into peals of laughter.

  “Oh, there’s no need to be shy with me!” she exclaimed. “After all, now we are both married women, we know how pleasurable marriage can be.”

  Flustered and tongue-tied, Roxanne stammered something noncommittal. She did not know whether Sophia was naturally open in her manners, or if marriage somehow bestowed a worldliness denied to young unmarried women. She was too embarrassed to ask her hostess. Sophia flitted about the room, directing Sally to be a good girl and help the countess dress for dinner.

  “Oh,” cried Roxanne. “Of course. I knew there was something I wished to discuss with you.”

  “I know what it is and I shall not listen!” Sophia exclaimed, striking a dramatic pose and covering her ears. Her laughing expression told Roxanne that Sophia was a woman who did not take life very seriously. Her own life was pleasant and she did not see why it should be otherwise with people she cared about. Sophia extended a natural kindness to anyone who crossed her path.

  “I just know you’re going to bring up the ghastly subject of wearing my cast-offs.”

  “Why, yes,” Roxanne stuttered. “It has caused me the greatest distress.”

  “But why should that be so?” Sophia asked, opening her china-blue eyes very wide. “You must take anything you want from Penrose. I shall never wear those dresses and since they are all new, you need not feel awkward about having anything. You should see it as a gift. While Julian has to wait for his money, simply use the garments. When he comes into his fortune I am sure he will be happy to outfit you all over again from head to foot.”

  She looked her sister-in-law up and down, scrutinising every detail. “I can see how my poor choices in fabric and colour did not look at all becoming on me, but on you they will look ravishing.”

  Roxanne blushed and demurred. Sophia brushed aside any further protests by whisking through the doorway and saying over her shoulder, “We dine when you hear the dinner gong. I shall see you later.”

  Dinner passed pleasantly. Sophia’s husband Philip was a bluff, well-built man, entirely devoted to his wife and child. Although some fifteen years older than his wife, Philip’s youthful air, handsome appearance, and sense of humour ensured his wife’s adoration. In turn, he spoiled her and wished only for her happiness. Roxanne felt wistful as she listened to the happy banter between husband and wife and how Julian laughed and joked with them.

  Under different circumstances, I could have shared in this.

  But she had chosen her path and was resigned to a fate that, as she chided herself, was not altogether unpleasant.

  Under the table Julian squeezed her fingers, whispering that he feared he had plunged her into too much too soon. Roxanne whispered back that she was managing perfectly well. Philip and Sophia both accepted the story of a long-standing, clandestine betrothal and agreed that the marriage should also remain a secret until a respectable mourning period had passed.

  Sophia blinked away tears of happiness and took her husband’s hand. “Dearest,” she whispered, “is it not romantic? It reminds me of how you courted me.”

  Sophia then launched into an amusing anecdote of how she had completely ignored the elegant and suave Philip Delmont, Duke of Silverton, because she thought he was “an old man.” She burst into shrieks of laughter as Philip reddened.

  “I had no idea he was the ultimate c
atch of the Season,” she confided to Roxanne. “And so very eligible. I kept refusing to drive in the park with him, and I would not even stand up to dance with him! I was so naïve. I didn’t know what to expect during my first Season. I think I fell in love with every unsuitable man who offered for me, and, of course, that’s not the way it’s done.”

  Julian smiled at Sophia. “If I remember right, Aunt Semphronia was quite the dragon and chased away anyone less than a duke!”

  “But what I didn’t know was that Philip approached Aunt Semphronia before he had even met me. He said he saw me once at Almack’s and that was enough.”

  “Dearest one,” came Philip’s lazy drawl. “I surrendered to love from the first moment.”

  “But how did you know I would even deign to speak with you, let alone marry you?” demanded his vexed spouse.

  “My love, being of advanced years has several advantages. Patience and persistence. I was prepared to wait for you and fight off any other suitors until you finally came to your senses,” he replied.

  Sophia gazed at him, adoration shining in her eyes. “And you have been the perfect choice. I cannot imagine being with anyone else.”

  Her husband kissed her hand, his loving gaze capturing hers. As they looked at each other, Roxanne wondered if Julian would ever look at her like that. How did Sophia know Julian loved her? Perhaps it was just because Sophia was so in love with her husband that she imagined all couples to be madly passionate about each other. She looked down at her dinner plate.

  Sophia saw the movement and burst into giggles. “My dear, I fear we are embarrassing our guests! It’s time for tea.”

  She signalled to Jennings as she and Roxanne made their way to the drawing room leaving the men to enjoy a cigar and a fine brandy.