“Fortunate child, then. She was blessed not to look like hawk nosed Blessing,” Lucky muttered, looking sullen. “Oh, lawks. You are really going to do it. You’ve made up your mind. It’s all set in stone, isn’t it?”
“It is. I must do it. I have no choice,” he said solemnly, nodding his head.
“I don’t want to sound like a snob, Felix…but I have to ask. I know of this Colonel Blessing, he is also known as the Earl of Painswick. I think my father knows him better.” Clarence cleared his throat nervously, and tugged on his cravat. “I…well, that is…I just want to know one thing…”
“You want to know why he would deem a rascal like me good enough for his beloved daughter, eh?” Tiny asked, a twinkle in his eyes.
“Yes,” Clarence stammered.
“I asked him that very question myself. I told him I was a bloody lowdown dirty rascal. I told him I was a rakehell, and I wasn’t highborn enough for his daughter. He told me that he used to feel that way, and that as he has drawn closer to the great hereafter, his views on life have changed. He has realized he has been a pompous prick in the past, and he said that I was ten times better than most of the men he knew, and that he couldn’t hope for anyone better for his only child. However, I don’t think he would have had the change of heart, if I hadn’t been ennobled since we knew each other last.”
Ann sighed loudly, her exasperation evident. “Has anyone thought to ask Lady Epiphany for her thoughts on this match? Or does her good opinion not matter?”
Clarence looked over at her, and was shocked, suddenly remembering that she knew Lady Epiphany. He could recall Lady Epiphany being at a few of the balls that Ann’s mother had held. No other girl had ever caught his fancy, so he only distantly recalled what the girl looked like. She did have blond hair, and she was of a slight frame, and she had been comely enough. Felix was right. She did have lively eyes that danced about whenever she looked your way. And, she did have the voice of an angel. She played the pianoforte with a talent that was rare, and her voice…her voice was a rarity as well. Hostesses always asked her to play and sing for them whenever she attended one of their soirees. She was quite the accomplished young lady.
“You know Lady Epiphany, Lady Evesham?” Felix asked, surprised.
“I do. Fanny is an old friend of mine. She is a dear girl. We are not as close as Ginny and I but she was in our circle and I cannot say that she would appreciate being married off in this sorry fashion. No, indeed. I wager she would appreciate it just as much as I did…and you all know that I do not look at what my father tried to do to me in a favourable light.”
Tiny looked as if he wanted to find a hole to crawl into. Clarence had to do something to put Felix back into Ann’s good graces. Presently, she was looking at Tiny with murder in her eyes.
Mayhap, she would become a load of mischief after all. Even though, he felt pride at the way she was getting stirred up, he wasn’t about to let her take her wrath out on his mate. Felix could have a strong mouth at the best of times but he wasn’t heartless. He wouldn’t hurt Lady Epiphany, and he would do his best to be a good husband to her.
“Felix isn’t a brute. I don’t think that he would marry a woman who wasn’t willing, Ann,” Clarence said softly, hoping this would be end of it.
“Oh, you don’t, do you? And how do you know that she isn’t being coerced into this foolhardy match? Fanny adores her father. She thinks the sun rises and sets on him—she is far more devoted to her father than I was to mine—and with good reason—her father lavished her with love and anything else she ever wanted. He spoiled her, and thank goodness she didn’t have a disagreeable personality because if she had, why, she would have turned out to be a rotten little chit. Fortunately for her, Lord Painswick wasn’t a churl like my father—but to think that he is arranging a marriage for her. Why he is more of a cad than I thought. Well, she shall simply have to put her foot down. She shall have to fight it. There is no other way. She shall have to become a good little rebel, and I know that Fanny has it in her to be so. She has an awful temper when riled—her mother was part Irish, you know.”
“She can’t,” Felix said forlornly. “I have the special marriage license. It has all been arranged, and he has made his daughter promise him…that she would marry me. He told me he didn’t doubt her word.”
“She will have to break that promise. Men break promises all of the time. It is about time for us ladies to do the same. I shall write to her and give her my full support in this matter.”
Clarence sighed. Ann wasn’t looking at this situation reasonably. She was casting aspersions without the authority to do so. It was all because of how her own father had treated her.
“How can you break a promise that you have made to a dying man?” Felix asked sadly. “Her father is not long for this world, and Lewis confirmed it. If he cannot help him, well, then, her father has no hope—he is as good as dead. I must away to their manor house, Blessing Hall once everything is settled here. He…I owe him a lot. The good turn he gave me led me to being selected by Colonel Elliot for The King’s Royal Couriers that was our proper name, our nickname was the Angels of Death. And…well, he taught me a lot…I…I can’t ever forget it, and I owe him my life. My lady, I am sorry that you feel this way but it cannot be helped. Lady Epiphany shall become my wife, and I shall become her protector and that is the end of it.”
Clarence wanted to save Tiny any further grief. He looked as if he was being tortured.
“I think that we should keep our noses out of this, Ann,” Clarence said softly.
“Oh, really?” she asked, her eyes swirling with her amber fury. He had never seen Ann so angry before. “I thought more of you, Clarence. I really did. I won’t stand idly by while one of my oldest friends is married off against her will—it isn’t right, and I can’t believe you are siding with them.”
“You needn’t sound so indignant. This is far different from you situation, Ann. You cannot think to compare Lord Spaulding to Sir Wilfrid—that is a disservice to Felix. He is worlds away from being like Sir Wilfrid and you know that in your heart of hearts.”
“I grant you Lord Spaulding isn’t at all like Sir Wilfrid. However, he is still a man that she barely knows, and you expect her to marry him, and share the rest of her life with him. Not to mention bear his children? How could you, Clarence? You are being bloody vexing.”
“I don’t want to start a row between the two of you,” Tiny said softly.
“You are doing nothing of the kind,” Clarence said. “Ann just needs to see sense.”
“I do see sense. I understand that Fanny has been placed in an untenable situation. She…she must be quite distraught. Her father expects her to marry a man that she doesn’t love!”
He felt as if he had been punched in the gut.
“You married me without loving me. You told me as much,” he said softly. “And yet, you still married me.”
“I didn’t have any other choice. Fanny does. She doesn’t have to do what I did. She doesn’t have to put herself into such a loathsome position.”
Awkward horrible silence hung between them all. Ann gasped, clapping her hand over mouth. She realized what her rashly spoken words had done. She was horrified by what she had said, and so was he.
Her words had damned her well and good.
Pain shot through Clarence. He felt robbed of breath. He couldn’t believe what he had just heard. Had all of their time together still meant so little to her? Did she think so badly of him? How could she say such a hurtful thing?
“I think we…I think we should make ourselves scarce, Tiny. Clarence and the Countess need to finish their lover’s spat without us,” Lucky interjected. “Come on, let us go and see if we can find some of Clarence’s fine whisky. Maybe it will dull this awful ache in my head.”
Tiny and Lucky quickly left.
“I…” Ann had gone as white as a sheet. “I didn’t mean it the way that it came out, Clarence. Pray, listen to me. I said what I sa
id without thinking.” She rushed to him, and closed the distance between them. He quickly stood up, and moved away from her.
“I don’t think we should continue on this course, Ann. I think…I think I need some time alone. I told you when you married me that you might have to leave me be when I was in an ill-tempered mood, and right now…I feel a little bit cross. I am a bit sore at you. I don’t think any good can come from us continuing to trade words, like this. It will only make one of us say something else that we shouldn’t.”
She reached for his hands, and drew them to her heaving bosom. “I didn’t mean it, Clarence. When I came to you to ask for you protection, I was desperate. You knew that. I had no other choice. I had no other way of escaping Sir Wilfrid, and you knew all of that and yet you still wanted me. You didn’t have to marry me.”
He looked away from her. “I didn’t have to marry you?” His words sounded hollow to his ears. “How do you figure that, Ann? I was…no, I am a man in love. I couldn’t deny that love any more than I could deny having to drink when I am thirsty or eat when I am hungry. You haunted my every waking hour, you still do. I think of you more than I think of myself. With you, I am totally unselfish, and I thought…I thought that things had changed between us in the last fortnight. I thought I had won your love. I was mistaken. I…I do need to be by myself now,” he said, pulling away from her. “I will see you at dinner, and then, afterward we shall have the servants bring in the decorations.”
With those parting words, he turned his back to her, and walked away. He had to clear his mind, and the best way to do that was to take a nice long stroll down to the village.
“Clarence,” she said, a sob catching in her voice. “Please, don’t go. Don’t leave me—not now. I have so much more to say to you. I will beg you for your forgiveness. Just please, don’t go.”
He halted, giving time to consider her words. Without turning back to her, he continued on his way, ignoring her pleas. He couldn’t indulge her right now. How could he when he felt as if she had shot him through the heart with a poison tipped arrow?
Chapter Sixteen
Ann’s mind raced.
She couldn’t allow Clarence to leave, not without smoothing things out between them. She couldn’t bear the thought of him believing her to be such a heartless wretch. One thing had led to another, and she had found herself saying things that she didn’t mean, horrified that they were coming out of her mouth. As she reflected back upon it, her words repulsed her. The dejected expression on his face—it had shattered her heart. He looked as if she had destroyed his world.
She chewed her lip, until she tasted blood, and dashed back to their bedchamber. Maybe he went back there. Although, he did have a dressing room, that they could both use, she rarely did—she always got ready for the day in her bedchamber, and he had his own bedchamber that he rarely used. She rushed into the dressing room to find his valet, looking at her in astonishment, as he organized Clarence’s things.
“Where is my husband?”
“The Earl came for some boots and a heavy coat. He has decided to go for a walk. I think he said he was off to the village.”
Clarence had taken her to the village a few days ago, to pay a visit to a few older ladies that had been friends of the family for years. They had brought them a basket filled with goodies, and the elderly women had been delighted to see them.
Clarence had been his old charming self with them, and had brightened their day considerably. She had seen him put a few coins in a purse, and then, he had tucked that small purse into the bottom of the basket. She had a feeling that he gave them money whenever he was in residence at Evesham Hall, and they never spoke of his generosity, though she could see by the way they reacted to him that they were grateful.
It wasn’t a long jaunt. She could make it on her own. She dashed back into her own bedchamber and reached for a warm cloak. Laying it on her bed, she changed into some good walking boots, and took out some warmer gloves. She placed the gloves with the cloak, and then walked over to her escritoire. Reaching for the missive that was from Fanny, she broke the seal, and quickly started to read it.
Dearest Ann,
I write this letter with tears in my eyes. I am about to lose my father. He has been terribly ill for far too long, and he’s become thin and gaunt, in recent weeks. A shadow of the robust man he used to be. I know that he is worried about leaving me behind, without anyone to take care of me…and on a lark, I told him that I would only marry a man that we both knew such a long time ago. I told him that man was the only man on Earth that I would even consider marrying. He was a man that served under my father. He was his personal servant, and helped to watch over Mama and me whenever we went to visit Papa, during the time that he was fighting Boney. He was a great giant of a man—and I told my father that he is the only man for me. Oh, Ann, Papa did the impossible, he found that man. A mutual friend told him where to find him, and Papa has gone to London to enlist his help. I…I have called this calamity upon myself and I fear that I shall have to do go through with it, as Papa shan’t return empty handed. He always gets what he wants. What if the gentle man I remembered isn’t the man who shows up here at Blessing Hall? It was such a long time ago, and fear I might have romanticized him in my mind. What if I only remember him as a hero, and he’s turned into something quite the reverse? I never dreamt that he would have raised himself to such an extent. I never dreamt that he would now be a baron and therefore deemed acceptable in my father’s eyes. Oh, what shall I do? Papa shall linger long enough to make certain that we are married, his resolve is like steel—and perhaps, perhaps, if Lord Spaulding is still the laughing good natured fellow who used to wink at me, tell me stories, and treated me like I was a princess—maybe…maybe it won’t be such a bad thing after all. Oh, how he made my young little heart race back then. I thought I was hopelessly in love with him, and I had my hopes dashed when Mama told me that I could never think to marry a man like him. She said that a man such as he could never hope to win my hand, as I was an earl’s daughter, and far above him in station. It didn’t stop me from constantly thinking about him, and wondering what it would be like to have him court me. I do believe that is why I never made it on the marriage mart. Once I met such a dashing scoundrel, the others that were offered to me at the balls and routs paled in comparison. They didn’t have his sparkling eyes, or his cheeky smile. I pray my memory serves me because if I have not recalled him as he is…I shall never forgive myself. I do not think it shall be a trial to fall in love with Lord Spaulding, should he not be greatly altered. If he has changed beyond recognition, I shall rue my words to my papa bitterly.
I do know one thing, I can’t abide the thought of marriage to my cousin. You know how truly horrible he is. I think that being married to Lord Spaulding—as long as he is still an honourable man, with a good heart, would be far preferable. I pray my memories do not deceive me.
I beg of you, Ann, write to me without delay, and tell me more about Lord Spaulding. Papa’s friend, Mr. Lovett told him that you know him that Lord Evesham knows him well.
Oh, how Mr. Lovett sang Lord Spaulding’s praises. He said that he was all that I remembered, and more. He told Papa that he was a man capable of making me a happy wife, and that he possessed a strong mind, body and spirit, and could defend me against any who tried to come at me in my time of grief. And, he said that Lord Spaulding was in possession of his own fortune, he would not be going after mine. I don’t mind sharing—but I love Blessing Hall with a passion, and my cousin would change it—he would make me a feel like an intruder in my home.
Once Papa is gone from this world, my aunts would come at me, and somehow, they shall talk me into marrying their precious Peter. I thought I could remain as I am and become an old maid, but alas, I cannot. Wedding bells shall ring for me soon.
I do hope you are in good health, and enjoying marital harmony. Happy Christmas, Ann.
Your loving friend,
Fanny
Ann’s hand went limp, and she dropped the letter. She had been wrong. So terribly wrong.
Fanny had picked Felix.
Fanny had once been besotted with Felix, and she, Ann Deville had treated the prospective match with such lip curling contempt. Oh, what had she done? She had made such rash judgements. Fanny didn’t need saving, she had chosen Felix, such as he was. She wanted the giant fellow as her husband.
Maybe Fanny had chosen Lord Spaulding for all of the wrong reasons. After all, she had picked him because she had believed her father would never conjure him into existence, but she had chosen him, and she was right—he would be better than her foul cousin. Who was, as Lord Spaulding would call him, a bloody toff. She reached for her gloves and cloak, and raced from the room. She had to find Clarence, and she had to beg for his forgiveness!
She was crossing the grounds of the Estate, having managed to elude the servants who hadn’t wanted her to leave unescorted. Lovely fat snowflakes started to fall from the sky, and hoar frost covered the ground and the trees.
Fear trickled over her, as she suddenly had the sense of being watched. She quickened her pace once she heard footsteps behind her crunching on the ground. She had nothing to fight them with, and no one was close enough to hear her scream.
The wind picked up, and the howling of it would drown out any of her screams. The church bells started to ring and the beautiful sound made her heart freeze with fear. No one would hear her now. She could scream her bloody lungs out and no one would hear her until the bells stopped tolling their beautiful tune.
In a heart-stopping moment, hands reached out for her and lifted her clear off the ground. She thrashed wildly against her assailant, dropping her muff in her struggles. A desperate scream escaped her, even though she knew it would bring no help. No one would hear her. The blackguards had timed their abduction perfectly. Her heart sunk as she heard Sir Wilfrid whisper into her ear. “Do stop struggling, wench, or I shall have to take it out of your hide later on once we are in my carriage.”
His Christmas Angel (A Regency Holiday Romance Book 8) Page 17
