Val leveled a hard, cold stare at his cousin. “Speak of my future wife in such a disparaging manner again and, cousin or not, they’ll be the last words you ever utter.”
“You’re only doing this to embarrass us! This,” Elsworth sneered, waving a hand in Lillian Burkhart’s direction, “is the equivalent of a childish tantrum!”
“You’d bloody well know about tantrums, wouldn’t you, Elsworth?” Val challenged. “You’ve done nothing but moan and whine about your fate as the spare rather than the heir since we were boys! You forget yourself, Cousin!”
The dowager duchess rose and placed her hand on Val’s arm. Turning slightly, she said, “Hush, Elsworth. You’ve said quite enough already. Both of you have. I’ll not have this family, meager as it is, torn apart by the posturing of angry young men who’ve had too much wine and brandy.” Angling her head slightly, the dowager duchess fixed her keen gaze on the woman who had been her companion. “Miss Burkhart, please allow me to welcome you to our family.”
Val looked at his grandmother and, suddenly, he saw all of it. The lot of it began to fall into place. Not their meeting, of course. That, he knew, had been chance. But his summons to the family home, his grandmother’s insistence on his taking a bride, and her hiring a companion who was beyond doubt one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen and then trying to hide her beauty in hideous cast-off clothing that would only serve to draw the eyes to her instead of making her disappear. She’d done it all with one goal in mind. That vicious old bird had intended from the outset for him to wed her companion. Indeed, had they not met by accident, she would no doubt have put Lillian Burkhart in his path in some utterly ridiculous manner. All her posturing that morning about not having that kind of household and avoiding her companion at all costs had been naught but manipulation and misdirection. And he’d taken the bait. He’d fallen right in line with what had been her plan all along. It was quite laughable actually.
As their eyes met, it was obvious from her victorious expression that his grandmother knew he’d sussed her out. She raised her glass and offered him a triumphant smile. But then he caught a glimpse of Lillian Burkhart’s exquisite profile. Managed or not, he couldn’t be angry about it.
As he reached for his own glass, he met his grandmother’s gaze. “You’re rather proud of yourself, aren’t you?”
She simply smiled. “I will be. Once I see you actually wed and know that you haven’t managed to wriggle out of it, I’ll be utterly thrilled. Socially, of course, there could be better connections. But she’s intelligent, beautiful, and will not tolerate any nonsense from you. There are more important things than one’s pedigree, after all. Don’t you think?”
“I’m beginning to think you enjoy thumbing your nose at society more than I do,” Val replied.
“I’m old enough not to have to suffer their nonsense for too much longer,” she replied. “Why shouldn’t I see them all set on their ears before I shuffle off this mortal coil?”
Why indeed? Val looked across the table at his betrothed. However it had happened, he wouldn’t be sorry for it. At least not in the short term. The long term remained to be seen.
Chapter Six
As a betrothed couple, it was perfectly acceptable for them to drive in the park together. To that end, Val had sent a note to Miss Burkhart the morning after their grand announcement and when she replied via the same scullery maid turned messenger, he’d arranged to have the phaeton brought around. As she made her way down the stairs, he noted she leaned less heavily on the walking stick.
“I see you’re starting to mend. Good morning… Lillian,” he said. He waited for her to take umbrage at his use of her given name, but she was a practical girl. Rather than give in to temper or spite, she simply arched one eyebrow at his taking such a liberty.
“Good morning, Valentine,” she answered in a mirroring tone.
“Oh, good lord, no. Not that. Don’t ever call me that. I hear it enough from my grandmother. You may call me Somers, Seaburn, Val… you may call me the very devil, but I beg you, do not call me Valentine,” he said as the butler opened the door for them and they stepped out toward the waiting vehicle.
“Very well. If we’re confessing our hatred of our given names, I detest Lillian. My half-sister and my friends call me Lilly,” she said.
“Lilly. It suits you,” he said.
“Surely you don’t mean to wax poetic and compare me to what I’ve always found to be a rather smelly flower,” she demanded, her voice ringing with disdain.
He smirked in response, amused by her forthcoming nature and her wit, not to mention her truly horrified tone at the prospect of such a ridiculous ode to her beauty. “Hardly. I comment only on the simplicity and straightforward nature of the name itself and not the flora that inspired it.”
“Thank goodness for that. I’m perfectly willing to go through with this—”
“Thank you for making the prospect of marriage to me sound comparable to an unpleasant chore,” he said, helping her up into the phaeton. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your efforts to keep my vanity in check.”
Her lips pursed in disapproval. “I said nothing of the sort. But you must admit, we are embarking on a rather impetuous scheme… and I intend to see it through. But I’d prefer, at least when it is only the two of us, not to pretend that this is anything more than what it is.”
“And what is that precisely?” Val posed the question as he climbed up and took his seat beside her, looping the reins securely in his hand.
“You are marrying me as a means to an end and, for better or worse, I am marrying you for the same reason.”
“To escape your servitude to my dragon of a grandmother?”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “Well, not entirely, at any rate. When I was coming home yesterday and had my unfortunate accident in the park—”
“You mean that bit where you recklessly climbed a tree and nearly broke your neck?” He felt it was an important distinction.
Her lips pursed again, a clear indication of her degree of annoyance with him. “Fine. Yes. That. At any rate, as I told you, I had been returning from a meeting with a solicitor. Despite how far my mother had fallen, she came from a family that had both wealth and connections. With the marriage of Willa to Lord Deveril, one of my mother’s relatives—her aunt—discovered my general direction and made inquiries at the Darrow School as to where I might be found. The woman is on her deathbed. Indeed, the solicitor said that even if I were to set out now to meet her, I would likely not reach her in time. But she’s arranged a bequest for me that can only be released if I marry. And I know you don’t understand, having never been without wealth or family in your life, but it’s very important to me that such a bequest be claimed. It’s the only connection I have to family on my mother’s side. In truth, it’s the only evidence that they cared for her and, thusly, me at all.”
That effectively set him on his heels. “I am sorry for what you have gone through. You must miss your mother terribly.”
She drew back, somewhat stunned by his words of sympathy. “You are mistaken, my lord. I wasn’t dishonest when I told you about my upbringing, but I may have smoothed out the rougher bits. I do not miss my mother. I’d have to remember her to miss her, I think. She left me on my father’s doorstep and then walked into the Thames with enough stones in her pockets that there was no hope of rescue,” she said matter of factly. “And I only know this because my father took great pleasure in telling me the tale and informing me that they’d have all been better off if she’d carried me with her.”
“Christ above,” he whispered. “And I thought dealing with Elsworth and my grandmother was bad! Your father needs a good—well, suffice to say, something a bit more bloodthirsty than just a talking to!”
Lilly smiled tightly at that. “I don’t like talking about him. I prefer to forget that he exists, in all honesty. Back to my mother. Alas, she did not see fit to end my existence with hers. Instead, s
he abandoned me at my father’s family residence here in London. His mother discovered my existence and despite the circumstances of my birth and her desire to have naught to do with me, she did insist that he at least provide for me. So I was sent to a farming family on one of his estates and eventually to the school where I met my half-sister and Effie Darrow discovered us both.”
They’d made the turn down Park Lane and were heading toward the park’s entrance. His mind was reeling with what she had revealed, not just about her upbringing, but also about herself. She was pretty enough, and might have looked delicate and fragile. But inside, Lilly Burkhart was forged of steel. He admired her greatly for it, and also felt somewhat ill at ease in her presence because of it. Knowing her character in that way made his own failings even more apparent to him. So he focused on something else. “You speak very dispassionately about what must surely have been a painful past.”
“Oh, it was quite painful… when I was younger. I do not deny that at all. But I see no point crying about it all now. I shed my tears and moved on. I refuse to be a victim either of circumstances or people, my lord… Val,” she said. “And I say all this to let you know, that I will not be some quiet, meek society wife. And if that is what you expect of me, perhaps we should revisit our agreement.”
The deeper they went into the park, the more slowly they had to travel. After all, a drive in the park wasn’t actually about getting anywhere. It was about letting people see you. Val cast a sidelong glance at her. “And I presume you tell me all of this in order to set the stage for the conditions you wish to place on our arrangement?”
“Am I so very obvious?”
He laughed. “Like I’ve been beaten over the head with a club by it. Subterfuge is not your strong suit, Lilly.”
“But it is yours, isn’t it? I mean, essentially you did confess to me last night that you’re a… well, for lack of a better word, a spy.”
Val cleared his throat. “I wouldn’t call it that.”
“What would you call it then?”
“I would say that if in my daily endeavors, information that poses a risk to our nation is discovered, I alert the people who can deal with that information appropriately.”
Her eyebrows shot upward and her lips curved in amusement. “You do know that is precisely what a spy does, don’t you?”
Wanting desperately to change the subject to anything else, Val demanded, “Name your conditions, my lovely betrothed. But when you are done, I will be levying conditions of my own.”
She relented. “Very well. Then the bequest from my great-aunt is mine and mine alone. Regardless of what occurs between us and even if you decided you cannot bear the sight of me after a suitable amount of time, that small sum is mine to live on for the rest of my days.”
“Done,” he said. Whatever became of their relationship, should they even manage to develop something akin to one, she would not be subsisting in penury. He’d certainly be able to afford to support her in the style of her choosing. “Is that all or is there more?”
She looked away for a moment. “I’m not very good with rules. You’ve seen the evidence of it yourself. You will undoubtedly, over time, grow quite frustrated with me for that reason. When that occurs, we will simply lead our separate lives. You may do as you please and so shall I.”
A dozen emotions flitted through him. Outrage, jealousy, indignation. Those were the ones closest to the surface, however. There might have been a bit of hurt pride and wounded vanity, as well. He hadn’t even taken her to bed yet and she was already mapping out a future where other men would. “I should say you are not very good at rules at all, Miss Burkhart. It’s quite brazen of you sit here in this phaeton, the morning after we are betrothed, and inform me that you intend to have lovers.”
“I never!” she gasped in obvious outrage. “Doing as we please does not include that!”
“Then what the bloody hell does it include?” he demanded. “When husbands and wives lead separate lives, Lilly, they don’t tend to involve celibacy!”
*
To say that her future husband’s reaction and interpretation were shocking was to put it mildly. Even if such a thing were to enter her mind, she would not broach the subject so callously. “It means that if you wish to take… to do… to have… that is to say that if and when we part ways and you elect to have relationships outside of marriage, I certainly understand and would not expect you to… not do that.” She paused then, attempting to regain her composure. To even utter such things left her terribly embarrassed and created a dull ache in the vicinity of her heart that she would not even deign to acknowledge. After all, they didn’t know one another well enough for her heart to be engaged in any way that could result in significant damage. It was just that the idea of him taking a mistress, or heaven help her, for him to take mistresses, was humiliating. The very idea of it had her terribly flustered and strangely disappointed.
Drawing in a deep breath, she continued, “For myself, should we part ways, I intend to live a quiet life, away from society, with my books and possibly a cat or a dog to keep me company. I want to read and write and paint if I take a notion. But I just don’t want to be told what to do all the time. Even when it’s something I know I ought to do and normally would want to do, the moment someone tells me I must do it, I immediately want to do anything and everything else! Do you not understand what it’s like to have your every thought and action dictated by others?”
He sighed heavily and eased the phaeton off the path. A boy, dressed in stained and rumpled clothing ran forward to take the reins. Lilly watched as he gave the boy a coin and promised another if the horses were still there when they returned.
“Let me help you down. We need to discuss this and I’d prefer not to do so in front of the very interested gossips,” he said and reached up to help her down. “Given that you have a rather animated way of expressing yourself, it is not in our best interest to be observed.”
Lilly braced herself for the familiar rush that always seemed to accompany his touch. When his hands closed about her waist, deftly lifting her from the coach and settling her in front of him, she had to fight the urge to lean against him. Even then, when he leaned past her to retrieve her walking stick, she felt the firmness of his chest and shoulders beneath his coat. Contrary to so many men of the day, his impressive physique had nothing to do with the artfully placed padding courtesy of a skilled tailor.
With her walking stick in hand and him far enough from her that she could actually breathe, Lilly felt marginally more herself as they set off down one of many graveled paths.
“Your ankle isn’t paining you too terribly?”
“No,” she answered. “A bit of exercise will be good for it, I think. Mary, the maid, helped me to wrap it in a bandage before we left this morning for a bit of extra comfort.”
“Good,” he said, and led the way down a small path that was heavily canopied by the twisting branches of trees that lined it. “I jumped to a rather disheartening conclusion back there and I must apologize for that. Society marriages and my acquaintance with them have left me somewhat jaded, I suppose. I should never have assumed you meant anything of the sort.”
“Oh,” she said. “Well, perhaps I could have worded things differently. I didn’t realize that particular turn of phrase would have such significance. I truly only meant that if we tire of one another’s company or grow to dislike one another’s habits so very much that we can live apart. But I can’t imagine that I would want do anything so improper as to… well, have relations outside of marriage.”
He smiled at that. “That is a testament only to your lack of experience. Passion, Lilly, is a bit of Pandora’s box. Once you’ve experienced it, it becomes a very difficult thing to live without. I’m hoping that is something that neither of us will have to think about.”
Recalling the kiss they’d shared the night before, it was easy to see that he was correct on that score. Even now, just being in his presence, she’d los
t count of the number of times she’d wondered idly if he would steal another kiss during their outing. Though stealing was a bit of a misnomer, since she’d go quite willingly into his arms. But kisses aside, he was speaking of something far more permanent and her trust of any man only went so far. She eyed him cautiously. “Do you really think that we, standing here as virtual strangers, can make any long-range plans for what our future together will hold?”
They strolled amicably along the path, weaving in and out of sight of others who were enjoying the fine weather and the beauty of the park. “I think we can, so long as we agree to be forthcoming with one another about our expectations.”
“Very well. What is it that you expect?” Lilly asked.
“I want to address your concerns, Lilly. I don’t perceive my role as a husband to be that of dictator. The blame can be laid squarely at my grandmother’s door, I suppose, but I’ve never been permitted the conceit that so many men have of thinking women were inferior to me… not in intelligence, not in ability and not in will and determination. If such a thought had even entered my mind, my grandmother would likely have beaten it out of me. I don’t expect to tell you what to do and how to do it every day of your life, henceforth. I had assumed we would have a certain degree of respect for one another that would preclude such behaviors.”
“And you think my earlier assumption was disrespectful to you?” she asked. That had not at all been her intent. She didn’t wish to insult him or to make him question the decision they’d made, even if it had been rash and foolish on both their parts.
“I think it’s an indication that we know very little about one another. And if it were possible, perhaps we could have a long engagement and rectify that. But my grandmother has issued an ultimatum and I have no option but to meet it. So we will marry and then we will get to know one another after the fact and hope that we have both not made a terrible error in judgment,” he replied. “I don’t foresee that I will ever develop such a dislike of you or such a level of exasperation with you that leading separate lives would seem like the best course of action to me.”
Regency for all Seasons: A Regency Romance Collection Page 53