A Bargain With Fate

by Ann Elizabeth Cree

  ‘But I did. I discovered those were the qualities I wanted in a wife. After our first meeting, I decided I would ask her for her hand.’

  Lady Spence looked at her nephew with exasperation. ‘And she accepted. Oh, dear! I have long prayed you would meet a woman that would show you at least a measure of resistance. I rather pity Lady Jeffreys if she has fallen in love with you.’ She rose to her feet, clearly agitated. ‘Michael, this is a very difficult situation. You have offered marriage to Lady Jeffreys so you cannot with honour back away from it. But there is Miss Randall to consider. Certain promises have been made to her also.’

  ‘But I did not make them. I have never met Miss Randall. I cannot conceive why she would be particularly eager to marry a man she has not met. Has she ever given you any indication she wishes to marry me?‘

  ‘No, she has not,’ Lady Spence said slowly. She thought for a minute. ‘I think she wishes to do her duty, but I’ve never had any strong feeling that she considered the marriage as settled. I believe she was told the marriage would take place after you had met and decided there was some compatibility. It is not likely that it will be Miss Randall who will feel slighted but rather Lord Sheringwood and Eversleigh. Your father will kick up quite a dust over this, Michael.’

  ‘He’ll settle down. He’ll be so pleased that I have at last found a suitable bride he’ll forget he didn’t choose her himself. And I am certain he will consider Lady Jeffreys quite suitable. She is well-bred; her manners are pleasing; she is intelligent. Just imagine how relieved he’ll be that I didn’t bring home one of my dashing widows.’

  ‘I don’t think he’ll be that pleased to have his plans overset.’ Lady Spence stared at him with a frown. ‘You’re up to something, aren’t you, Michael? How very convenient for you to find a bride in the nick of time. Are you in love with Lady Jeffreys?’

  Michael shrugged and said lightly, ‘I have been in love a hundred times. But I am very fond of Lady Jeffreys. She is pretty and charming and intelligent, and I will endeavour to be a good husband.’

  Lady Spence rolled her eyes upwards. ‘God help her. You’ll lead her a merry dance. Well, what will you say to your father?’

  ‘I was hoping you would help out in that regard. He’ll listen to you,’ said Michael. His mouth curved in an engaging smile.

  ‘I shall have to meet Lady Jeffreys again before I attempt to do any such thing. I still can’t believe you actually plan to marry someone decent. I would have been less surprised if you had announced you wanted to marry Lady Marchant or one of the other ill-bred creatures you’ve associated with. Sometimes I have felt you deliberately go out of your way to find the most annoying and vulgar sorts merely to irritate your father and the rest of the family as well.’

  Michael grinned. ‘Caroline has frequently accused me of the very same thing.’

  ‘You’re a rogue, Michael.’ She sighed. ‘And far too charming for your own good. I will call on Lady Jeffreys and decide if I wish to plead your cause.’

  ‘Don’t scare her too much. Caroline did a pretty good job of it last night, and Charles informed her she was marrying into a family of lunatics.’

  Lady Spence pulled on her gloves and tied the ribbons of her bonnet. ‘She is. There is no need to hide the truth from her. Perhaps she will come to her senses in time. However, I promise not to intimidate her.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  Michael accompanied her to her waiting carriage and handed her in.

  Lady Spence started towards home and then changed her mind. She tapped the roof of her carriage with her parasol and instructed the coachman to drive to Grosvenor Street. She would call on Lady Carlyn. The whole affair was highly suspicious. She had fully expected Michael to find a way to defeat his father’s plan, for he was as stubborn and high-handed as the Duke in getting his own way. He had successfully blocked the Duke’s move this time, but who would win the game was still up in the air.

  Rosalyn had barely removed her pelisse when Mrs Harrod bustled into her bedchamber to inform her that Lady Spence had come to call. ‘She is such an elegant woman, my lady. Such an honour to have her come, for she moves in the highest circles. You shall want to change your dress.’

  Rosalyn looked down. Mud had spattered across the bottom of her cream gown. In the past few days she had begun walking in Green Park with Annie, her abigail, wanting to escape from the confusion her life had suddenly become. The park with its dairymaids and cows reminded her a little of the country.

  Usually, her walks were peaceful. But not today. She had been pestered by a fop in a revoltingly green frock coat over a butter-coloured waistcoat who persisted in speaking to her in a bold manner. Her most icy demeanour hadn’t fazed him. He flustered her so much she stepped in a mud puddle, soaking her kid half-boots and splashing mud on her gown.

  And now Lady Spence, Lord Stamford’s formidable aunt, the aunt with the uncanny perception, sat below. She vaguely recalled meeting Lady Spence years ago, but could remember little about her. She pushed back her hair, trying to think. She wished she could send Lady Spence away and crawl under the covers pleading a headache, but she knew that would hardly do. She sighed. ‘Yes, I shall change. Please inform Lady Spence I will be with her shortly.’

  Rosalyn finally entered the drawing room, her hands clammy. She saw an elegant, aristocratic lady with a fine-boned face and observant blue eyes, immaculately dressed in a dark green spencer over a dress of pomona green. Her cool appearance as well as the speculative look in her eyes would have been quite intimidating, except for the warmth of her clasp as she took Rosalyn’s hand and the kindness that lit her face.

  ‘Thank you for receiving me on such short notice, Lady Jeffreys, but I had to come. I saw my nephew this morning and he told me the delightful and most unexpected news. Congratulations, my dear. We are so very pleased that Michael will be wed at last.’

  Rosalyn was momentarily stunned. ‘Thank you,’ she said, feeling the colour mount her cheeks. ‘Won’t you please be seated, my lady?’

  Lady Spence sat down on the small sofa near the fireplace. She patted the spot beside her. ‘Come and sit by me, my dear. I want to hear all about this. I could get very little out of my nephew, which is so like him.’

  With some trepidation, Rosalyn sat down beside Lady Spence, catching a whiff of her delicate perfume. She waited.

  Lady Spence turned to her. ‘So you met Michael at the Winthropes’ rout? He said he was instantly charmed by you.’

  ‘Did he?’ Rosalyn asked faintly.

  ‘Yes, he was determined to marry you after the first meeting. I never thought he could be so romantic.’

  She didn’t seem to notice the dismay Rosalyn could not quite keep from her face. She continued blithely on. ‘I imagine he quite overwhelmed you. He is that way when he wants something. Your grandmother said you did not particularly care for Michael at the outset.’

  ‘You have seen my grandmother?’

  ‘Yes, before I came here. She will come to call on you later today to congratulate you. She had not been certain last night that you would accept him.’

  The world was beginning to spin. ‘Last night? I do not understand.’

  Lady Spence’s smile was bland. ‘Did Michael not tell you he called on your grandmother yesterday to assure her his intentions were honourable?’

  ‘No, he…he never said a thing.’

  ‘That is not surprising. So Michael overcame your resistance. Tell me, Lady Jeffreys, what do you think of my nephew now?’

  ‘I beg your pardon?’

  Lady Spence’s lips curved in a slight smile. ‘Lord Stamford, my nephew. What do you think of him?’

  Rosalyn was momentarily confused. What did she think of Lord Stamford? What she thought would hardly be polite to say to his aunt. She decided on a neutral tact. ‘He is very amiable,’ she replied cautiously.

  This time it was Lady Spence who looked startled. ‘Amiable?’ she repeated. She looked at Rosalyn with frank interest.
/>   Rosalyn realized she had blundered. She should have come up with a more enthusiastic answer.

  To her relief, Lady Spence suddenly smiled. ‘Forgive me for sounding so surprised, but I don’t believe I have ever heard Michael described as amiable. Certainly by many other terms, including exasperating and overbearing, if you talk to his sisters, but never merely amiable! Do you find him at all charming?’

  ‘He can be when it pleases him,’ Rosalyn replied truthfully.

  Lady Spence didn’t seem displeased with her answer. ‘That is very good. He is the sort of man that one should never be too charmed by. Are you in love with him?’

  Rosalyn’s mouth fell open. Certainly his family asked the most amazing questions. ‘I…what?’

  Lady Spence looked amused. ‘I can see you are not. Thank goodness, I was quite worried about that. If you were in love with him, I would caution you against marrying him.’

  Rosalyn could only stare. She felt as if she’d wandered into a family of Bedlamites.

  Lady Spence apparently did notice her dazed look. ‘Eversleigh will be quite pleased with you once he accepts Michael has defied his wishes. He doesn’t like to be crossed, but no matter. He’ll come around. You probably know he was trying to arrange a match for my nephew. Michael was quite against it. How fortunate the match didn’t take place before he met you. I think you will be quite good for Michael.’

  ‘I…I hope so,’ Rosalyn said uncertainly. The shrewdness in Lady Spence’s eyes rendered her uneasy. She had the odd feeling Lord Stamford’s aunt knew something was amiss, but for reasons of her own, chose not to say anything. She only hoped she would never meet the Duke. She fumbled about in her mind for something else to say.

  ‘We will need to discuss the wedding.’

  ‘Wedding?’

  ‘It should take place as soon as possible. Your grandmother and I thought perhaps in six weeks, at the end of June. That should give us enough time to make the necessary arrangements.’

  ‘In six weeks?’ Rosalyn exclaimed in panic. She had never dreamed anyone would actually wish to discuss a date for the non-existent wedding. ‘That seems so…so soon.’

  Lady Spence raised delicate brows. ‘So soon? We have been waiting for my nephew’s wedding date for the past decade. And Michael was in such a hurry to persuade you to marry him, that I don’t think he’ll wish to wait very long. In fact, I am certain he will not.’

  ‘I…’ Rosalyn was at a loss for words. She racked her brain for some plausible reason they could not marry so quickly. And if her grandmother was involved…Rosalyn shuddered inwardly. They’d be at the altar before they could turn around.

  ‘I had really hoped for an autumn wedding,’ she found herself saying. ‘I love the autumn, the leaves are so pretty and it is my favourite time of the year. And Lord…Michael and I would like to become better acquainted.’

  ‘I see.’ Lady Spence regarded her curiously. ‘I quite understand. An autumn wedding will be ideal if that is what you wish.’

  ‘Oh, yes!’

  ‘We will give a small dinner for you next week to celebrate your betrothal,’ Lady Spence said.

  ‘Surely a dinner is not necessary.’

  ‘Of course it is. We must celebrate your engagement and formally introduce you to society as the next Marchioness of Stamford.’

  ‘But, I don’t think…’

  Lady Spence rose. ‘My dear, I am certain this is all quite overwhelming for you. Now, I will leave so you may rest. You will attend the Fawnworths’ ball tonight, I understand. I shall look forward to seeing you there.’

  She embraced Rosalyn and then left, leaving Rosalyn staring after her in a daze.

  Mrs Harrod’s voice jerked her out of her reflections. ‘My lady, you’ve another visitor.’

  ‘I shall announce myself.’ Lady Carlyn pushed past Mrs Harrod into the room. ‘Oh, my love! I knew how it would be! There was something in his manner…We haven’t a moment to waste! This time you will have a proper wedding!’

  Rosalyn sunk back on the sofa. This charade of a betrothal was going to be much more complicated than she’d ever imagined.

  Rosalyn stood in one corner of Lady Fawnworth’s ballroom, which had been decorated as a Greek temple with vines running up false pillars, statues of nymphs and goddesses tucked in corners. The lively strains of a country dance filled the room as the dancers galloped through the steps.

  Lady Carlyn chattered with an acquaintance, occasionally flinging a delighted smile in Rosalyn’s direction. Rosalyn suspected she could scarcely contain the news of Rosalyn’s betrothal. She had declared it was certain to be the coup of the Season.

  Rosalyn was already experiencing regrets. Not only must she deal with Lord Stamford but now with her grandmother. She sighed and shifted positions. At least one problem had not yet arrived.

  Her eyes strayed towards the doorway as the music ended. She stiffened, all of her senses springing to life. Lord Stamford entered the ballroom with his usual air of nonchalant elegance. As he strolled into the room, she noticed several feminine heads turning in his direction. He paid little attention, his eyes roving over the room. Undoubtedly looking for her. Rosalyn fled.

  She found an unoccupied spot behind a pillar, near one wall of the ballroom. Rational thought returned. Whatever was she doing? She had to face him some time this evening. It was only that she’d had a sudden vision of her grandmother making some embarrassing remark designed to hint to anyone within hearing that a special announcement was to be expected soon.

  ‘Hiding, my sweet?’

  She gasped and spun around. Lord Stamford stood next to her, a slight half-smile lifting his lips.

  ‘Oh! I did not hear you!’

  ‘Is there a particular reason you are standing behind this pillar? Your grandmother said you suddenly disappeared. If I wasn’t so certain of your delight in seeing me, I would almost think you were avoiding me.’

  He leaned one shoulder against the wall and crossed his arms. The movement emphasised the muscles beneath his black evening coat. Perhaps she should have chosen a spot where she wouldn’t feel so cornered. ‘I always find balls so stifling. I suddenly needed some fresh air.’

  ‘You would do better if you stood near a window. Come, I want to dance with you.’ He held out his hand.

  She stared at his hand as if it were a hot coal. ‘Thank you, but I really don’t care to dance tonight.’

  ‘And why is that?’

  ‘I am rather tired, that is all.’ His brows shot up. She stumbled on, ‘That is, I haven’t danced much, and I…I will probably step on your feet.’

  ‘I doubt that.’ He moved away from the wall towards her, causing her to back up a few steps. ‘My dear Rosalyn, perhaps I did not make this clear to you. I expect you to behave like a proper fiancée in public. Not only will you dance with me, I expect you to make it clear you find the experience enjoyable.’

  His dictatorial tone set her back up. ‘And how am I suppose to do that?’

  ‘You will smile at me, and attempt some sort of conversation. I do not want you to give my family any reason to suspect why you accepted my offer.’

  ‘So you wish me to lead them to believe I accepted you for your wealth and title?’

  He gave her a startled glance and then suddenly grinned. ‘So you do have claws, my dear.’ His voice dropped to an intimate level. ‘I was rather hoping you would lead them to believe you fell head over ears for me the first time we met. That is the impression I hope to create.’

  Rosalyn felt colour rise up her face. ‘I really wish you would not. It will only make everything more complicated.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Won’t it be more difficult to explain why we do not suit in the end if you are pretending to be in…that is, hold a fondness for me?’

  He snorted. ‘Hold a fondness for you? You do have an interesting way of putting things. Don’t you mean if I am in love with you?’

  ‘I really don’t know what I mean! Perhaps we
should dance.’ She looked around to find several people staring at them, including a dandy who had levelled his quizzing glass on her face.

  ‘An excellent idea.’ He took her arm, leading her around the side of the pillar. The musicians were striking up the notes of a waltz.

  ‘Oh, dear,’ Rosalyn said faintly. Not a waltz. The dance had only gained formal acceptance last year and she had never danced it in public.

  ‘Now what is wrong?’ Lord Stamford asked, as he led her to the ballroom floor.

  ‘I can’t waltz with you. Not here.’

  ‘Do you wish to waltz with me in private then? I must admit that might be more interesting.’

  ‘That is not what I meant! I have never danced the waltz in a ballroom before. In front of people!’

  His mouth quirked as he looked down at her. ‘I have no doubt you’ll manage quite well.’ He placed one hand lightly above her waist and drew her into position, then began to move in time to the music.

  He was a graceful dancer and, after treading on his foot once, Rosalyn managed to follow him.

  ‘Relax,’ he murmured. ‘You’re doing very well. And look up at me.’

  She obeyed. He smiled down at her, a warm smile that made her catch her breath. His hand suddenly seemed to burn through the light silk of her dress. She glanced away, trying to remind herself he was only pretending. The thought stiffened her spine. She looked back up at him to find his eyes fixed on her face.

  ‘That is better,’ he said softly. ‘I prefer to see your face, not the top of your head. Although it is very charming.’

  ‘Indeed.’

  ‘Yes, although I suspect you do not believe me.’

  ‘Are all your conversations so ridiculous?’

  ‘I am afraid so. But I am willing to reform if you so desire.’

  ‘I really have no desire to reform you in any way.’

  ‘But isn’t that the task of a fiancée?’

  ‘I should hope not. In your case, I think it would be quite impossible. I would never attempt it.’