The Thoroughly Compromised Bride

by Catherine Reynolds

  He inclined his head. “I daresay. At any rate, I concede the point.”

  “Thank you!”

  “Not at all. Do you agree to travel to Langley as I requested?”

  “I said as much.”

  “So you did. Then, if you have nothing further to say...” He looked a question.

  “I...” She glanced away. “What of—what will happen after the wedding ceremony?”

  “I shall take you to Brentwood, of course, before I...” He stopped and gazed at her for a moment, then asked abruptly, “How many?”

  Her eyes met his, her brow creased in puzzlement. “How many?”

  “How many men?” he asked shortly.

  She was certain her face must be flaming now. “Only one, damn you! And only once!”

  For a fleeting second, she could have sworn, a look of relief crossed his face, but it was gone instantly and he said softly, “Ah... a small blessing to be thankful for.”

  Knowing that it could only lead to further unpleasantness, but unable to stop herself, she challenged him. “How many women?”

  He rose hastily from his chair, towering over her. “By God, woman! Have you no sense of what is fitting conduct in a lady?”

  Determined not to be intimidated, she gave him stare for stare. “Perhaps I am more woman than lady!” she retorted and, ignoring his stunned expression, rushed on, “Oh, I am quite cognizant of the fact that ladies are not even supposed to be aware of the inevitable truth that men have numerous liaisons both before and during marriage. Or, at least, a lady is supposed to ignore that fact. And I know that the more women a man has, the more highly esteemed he becomes, whereas if a woman makes even one mistake she is held to be lower than the basest criminal! It is the greatest piece of bias! Who the devil made up such a rule?”

  “Doubtlessly a man,” he admitted, and was chagrined at having to suppress a strong urge to smile. This was no time for his damned, bizarre sense of humour to surface, and thank God she had lowered her eyes, so did not perceive his struggle.

  Damn it! She was challenging one of man’s most inculcated tenets, one it had never occurred to him to question.

  He paced a few steps away, ran his fingers through his hair, then returned and lowered himself into his chair once more. “Listen to me, my dear. Inequitable as it appears to be at first glance, there is a very good basis for that particular rule. Oh, I am not saying that it is right that a man should... well, we shall not go into that just now. What I wish to say is that a man is expected to be experienced. It is to a bride’s advantage that her husband have some experience.” Then he added, in a bitter tone, “I am sure I need not explain that to you!”

  Her eyes lowered swiftly again, and he sighed deeply. “Forgive me. I had not intended to rip up at you again. But to return to what I was saying... A female’s virtue is the greatest gift she can give to her husband, and it should be saved for him alone, not.. .not given lightly and promiscuously to just any man who takes her fancy. Damn it, a lady is not supposed to feel...” He stopped himself again and frowned oddly before continuing. “In any event, aside from all that, there is an even more important, natural foundation for that rule. If a man’s bride is not a virgin, how can he be certain that his children are his own?”

  She had no answer for that. What could she say in her defence? That, except for that one fatal night, she had lived a totally blameless life? Even if that should count with Charles, she had no proof to offer him. Or, could she say that, despite her age at the time, she had been quite innocently unprepared for her will-shattering response to an unknown man’s practised lovemaking? That was no excuse. A lady was not supposed to feel passion, and certainly not with a stranger.

  She could recall, in surprising detail, the occasion when she had first learned that lesson. It had been one day during her twelfth summer, and she had come upon one of the housemaids and a footman in the home wood. They had been locked in an impassioned embrace, and she had been embarrassed by their obvious embarrassment when they had noticed her. But before that, she had been strongly impressed by their blatant enjoyment of the kiss they had shared.

  She had gone at once in search of her papa to ask about this newly discovered aspect of the relationship between males and females, and would never forget his response to her naive questions. It was the first and only time in her memory when he had been truly uncomfortable with her. He had blustered and offered several vague explanations, but one thing had come through quite clearly: ladies of breeding did not experience such impure feelings as women of a lower order did.

  No wonder Charles held her in contempt. He had every right, for she must be the most unnatural, the vilest of females.

  She was startled when Charles reached out and took her hand, saying ruefully, “Elizabeth, how did we come to such blows? I promise you, I had no intention of doing so. In fact, I should like you to know that I am prepared to give you the benefit of the doubt, and shall endeavour never to throw your one mistake up to you again.”

  Elizabeth stiffened when his unfortunate turn of phrase reminded her of Lord Braxton’s pomposity, and she came near to giving Charles a witheringly acerbic reply. But the urge only lasted for a moment. What a wretch she was! It was very good of him to be so magnanimous. She murmured a sincere “Thank you.”

  He squeezed her hand and smiled at her. “Well, then. I really must be going if I am to set out for London today.”

  She stood and walked with him to the door, where he turned and, placing a finger under her chin, lifted her face, then lightly touched her lips with his own in a light kiss.

  “I shall see you in a few days’ time at Langley Hall,” he said, then looked as if he would say something more, but instead turned once more and was gone.

  For a few moments after he had gone, she stood, transfixed, her fingers touching her lips in wonder.

  Oh! He was so very, very good, and she so unworthy! But, despite the fact that she was quite undeserving, perhaps things would, after all, turn out right for them.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  The remainder of that day and the following one were taken up with preparations for their removal to Langley Hall, and Elizabeth and Aunt Emily left early the next morning in Lady Langley’s well-sprung, comfortable travelling coach. The ensuing trip might have proved tedious had it not been for Melanie’s diverting chatter, as well as Lady Langley’s interesting conversation, for which Elizabeth was most grateful. Little was said about the reason for their journey and, all in all, Elizabeth had little time for any worrying over her coining marriage and the problems likely to be attendant upon it.

  However, her good fortune could not last forever, and that very first night, as Elizabeth prepared for bed. Aunt Emily paid her a visit in her bedchamber.

  After exchanging a few pleasantries, her aunt hesitated and cleared her throat nervously. “My love, now that you will soon be a married lady, I feel that I must tell you a few things which you will have need of knowing. Not that I have had any experiments, but I did hear what Mama told Caroline—your own dear mama—on the brink of her marriage.”

  “Oh, no. Aunt Emily! You needn’t!”

  “But yes, my dear. I must! For you will have certain duties as a wife, you know, which, while they may not be quite pleasant, are none the less most important, and you must just design yourself to putting up with them. I mean that you must learn to accustom yourself to Charles’s... to his baser desires, and try to bear with them with as much composure as possible. And you must always be amiable and compliant and, of course, never embarrass him with ill-bred questions or scenes if you should learn that he has formed a... a connection outside of marriage. For gentlemen, I understand, do have an unfortunate propendipity for that sort of thing, and really it means nothing, I have heard. It is just their way.”

  Elizabeth laughed. “Good God! It needed only that! I pray that you’ll spare me. Aunt!”

  “Well... but, Elizabeth, it is only what your own dear mama would tell you, were she h
ere to give you advice!”

  “Yes, my dear, and I thank you, but you’ve told me quite enough! You have done your duty, and now I am sure that you must be quite as tired as I, so I shall wish you good-night.”

  Elizabeth was gently pushing her aunt out the door of her chamber as she spoke, and when she was once more alone, she fell upon the bed in a fit of laughter. Surprisingly, she was so amused at the absurdity of her spinster aunt in the role of adviser to a new bride that she fell asleep rather easily with a smile on her lips.

  She woke in the morning in the same light-hearted mood.

  When she had dressed and gone down to the breakfast room, she found Lady Langley and Aunt Emily already there.

  “Good morning, my dear,” Lady Langley greeted her. “Did you sleep well? I think you must have done, for you look quite radiant this morning.”

  “Indeed, I did sleep well,” said Elizabeth with a mischievous smile. “And that, in spite of Aunt Emily’s grim portrayal of what I may expect as a married lady.”

  Lady Langley made an impatient sound in her throat and looked at her friend accusingly.

  Goaded to self-defence. Aunt Emily said a trifle belligerently, “Well, but someone must have told her, and I am the nearest thing she has to a mama!”

  “Good God, Emily! What a ridiculous ninny you are! What, pray, do you know of the matter?”

  “Well, I do not, of course, but I have heard...”

  “Humbug! The hearsay on that subject is so much rubbish! You would be better advised to listen to me, Elizabeth, for I know whereof I speak. That oft-repeated canard about ladies not being capable of enjoying certain aspects of married life is nothing more than a sham—a tale fabricated from whole cloth, and perpetrated by heaven knows who for God knows what purpose!”

  “Do you mean... ?” asked Elizabeth tentatively, scarcely daring to believe what Lady Langley seemed to be saying.

  Her ladyship nodded her head emphatically. “I mean that with the right husband, a bride, lady or not, should be able to enjoy every facet of married life.”

  Elizabeth would have liked to discuss this revolutionary notion further, but was prevented from doing so by Melanie’s entrance into the room. In deference to Melanie’s tender years and her unmarried state, conversation turned to her come-out, then to plans for the coming wedding.

  What with one thing and another, it was not until later in the afternoon that Elizabeth found time to be private. When she was able to do so, without attracting unwanted company, she slipped out of the house to walk in the grounds, though she studiously avoided the summer house, while she examined more fully this new information which Lady Langley had presented her with. But, more important, she wished to think about what it meant to her.

  It was difficult to credit. Heretofore, she had thought of herself as some sort of freakish creature, unfit to be called a lady, but if Lady Langley were to be believed, there was not the least thing wrong with her. She was not an indecent wanton, and she needn’t be ashamed for having had feelings that were unnatural to a lady.

  She paused in her walking and frowned, disturbed by a niggling impression that her logic was faulty somehow, but unable, for a moment, to pinpoint the error of her thinking. And then it burst upon her. Granted that such feelings might be natural and allowable, but they must still be prohibited to an unmarried female. Her spirits sank to a new low.

  What was the matter with her? Was she indeed a wanton creature, incapable of controlling her baser instincts when confronted by temptation? She thought guiltily of her instant response those few times when Charles had touched her, albeit quite innocuously. But it could not be entirely so, for she had been kissed, more than once, during her two Seasons, and those kisses, more ardent than anything she had experienced with Charles, had done nothing to arouse her; she had not even found them mildly pleasing.

  She could accept the fact that she reacted so strongly to Charles. There was some excuse for that; she was, after all, in love with him. But why in God’s name had she responded so to a stranger, a man she could not even see in the darkness of that long-ago summer night here at Langley? It was a question for which she could find no acceptable answer, though it festered in her mind through the afternoon and evening and long into the night.

  * * * *

  No one told Elizabeth, the next morning, that she looked radiant, and such an omission held no surprise for her. She felt positively hagged. Charles was expected to arrive sometime that day, and the wedding was to take place the following morning, She vacillated between excitement and dread, moping and irritation. It was unbelievably wearing and had a decidedly depressive effect upon her spirits.

  Finally, after having spoken sharply to Aunt Emily twice in as many minutes, for which she was instantly sorry, she escaped the house and went to sit in the garden. But this time luck was not with her. Aunt Emily discovered her there just as she was beginning to feel a trifle more at ease.

  Sitting down beside Elizabeth, Aunt Emily patted her niece’s hand and said reassuringly, “Now, my love, you must not be frizzled. I am persuaded that it is nothing more than a case of bridal nerves, which cannot be wondered at. But are you not feeling cold sitting out here? I wonder that you do not take one of your books and go to the summer house, as you were used to do when we were last here. Do you remember, my dear?”

  “Yes, Aunt Emily,” Elizabeth sighed. “I do remember. But I would as lief not go to the summer house just now.”

  “How very odd! For I am sure that you practically lived there the whole of the sennight we were here.”

  “Mmm,” murmured Elizabeth, thinking that perhaps if she did not encourage conversation, her aunt would go and leave her in peace.

  “It was such a lovely party, was it not, my love? It has been on my mind quite continuously since arriving here.” Aunt Emily fell silent for a moment, presumably lost in recollections, but when Elizabeth said nothing, she continued, “It is a great pity, I think, that Margaret’s scheme came to nothing.”

  Against her better judgment, Elizabeth asked, “What scheme?”

  “Why, her scheme to make a match of it between you and Charles.”

  Elizabeth knew a sudden sense of alarm as she wondered fleetingly if perhaps her aunt’s mind might be failing. She shot an oblique glance at Aunt Emily. “But, my dearest, her scheme did not fail. You cannot have forgotten that Charles and I are to be married.”

  Aunt Emily laughed delightedly. “Oh, Elizabeth, do not be absurd. Of course I have not forgot. It is my dearest wish come true. No, it was Margaret’s first scheme of which I was speaking. That was to have taken place during the sennight we were here. Of course, I did not know of it at the time, for I only just learned of it quite recently.”

  Elizabeth turned towards her aunt. “Are you saying that Lady Langley had a similar plan to entrap me during that ridiculous house party? The same that we attended with Papa?”

  “Well, of course, my love. There have been no others, for you know you have refused all such invitations for all these years, and you know my sediments upon that subject! But, indeed, Margaret was hoping to bring off a match between you and Charles at the time, though if it had come about, it would not have been at all the same! Indeed, it would have been perfectly proper, and not the havey-cavey business which it is now. And I must say that if it had come about, you would not have wasted all these years!”

  “Very likely,” remarked Elizabeth with a touch of impatience. “But you are forgetting that Charles was not here at the time.”

  “Oh, but indeed he was, my love. Only he did not arrive until late on the last evening of our stay, after you had retired for the night. And, if you will recall, we left very early the following morning, and so you never met and the whole of the plan was quite spoiled.” She sighed heavily with regret.

  “Charles was here, at Langley, on that night?” Elizabeth asked rather stupidly.

  “Certainly, my love.” Aunt Emily looked at her niece oddly. “Is that not what I sa
id?”

  Apparently Elizabeth answered appropriately, for Aunt Emily continued to chatter away, but her niece was no longer listening. She wished desperately to sort out her thoughts, but they were in a tangle of confusion, and Aunt Emily’s voice kept intruding upon them, so that she was unable to carry any one of them to its conclusion.

  Aunt Emily broke off in mid-sentence as her niece stood up abruptly and began moving away down the path. “But, Elizabeth,” she cried in bewilderment, “wherever are you going?”

  Elizabeth turned back to look at her aunt, as if surprised to see her there. “Oh! Aunt Emily! Forgive me, but I have decided that 1 should like to visit the summer house, after all.”

  “Shall I come with you, love?”

  “Oh, no! Please don’t. Aunt Emily. I would much prefer to be alone just now.” And so saying, Elizabeth hurried away from her aunt.

  Stepping into the summer house a moment later was eerily like going back in time for Elizabeth, and for the first time in all the intervening years, she allowed full play to her memories, with no attempt to block any of them. Once more, echoing through the recesses of her mind, she heard a husky, seductive male voice, and her fingertips remembered the touch of a firm, muscular chest....

  On the few occasions when she had permitted herself to think at all of that night, one aspect had been especially distressful to her. It was bad enough to have been ravished, shameful to have actually enjoyed much of it, but when she thought that her ravisher was one of those elderly, married men who had been present at the house party, she had always felt faintly ill.

  Now, as she stood in the middle of the small enclosure, gazing at the chaise where it had all taken place, she wondered how she could ever have thought for a moment that such a thing could be true. It could not have been any of those men. But if Charles had truly been here that night... In a sudden flash she knew, and without the least trace of doubt, that her seducer had been Charles himself.