Marriage Gamble

by Oliver, Marina

  'My cousin Jennifer,' the Earl said softly. 'I have no doubt my Aunt Emily retreated promptly to her room and is surrounded by hartshorn and sal volatile and brandy, with her own maid and half my household in attendance. Come, I will take you back to Cavendish Square, and you can view my house another day. The pair of them will have turned it quite upside down by now.'

  He turned his horse to retreat, but at that moment one of the horses pulling a smart curricle took high-bred exception to a footman dropping a trunk into the road just as they were passing. Miss Frayne began to scold the driver of the curricle for driving too fast, but he was fully occupied in bringing his pair under control. She turned to berate the footman instead, demanding to know whether the trunk had been damaged, and saw his lordship.

  'Luke? Is that you? I wondered why you were not at home to greet us, since Mama sent a note yesterday when we halted for the night. She expected you to be here. Did you not read it? Now you are, at last, you can come and make sure these fellows don't do any more damage, while I go and check they have put everything in the correct rooms. I wasn't aware Barbara and Alex were in the best guest room. Mama was not pleased, she prefers to use it.'

  'They always do use it when they are home in England, which is rare enough, and in my house I think my sister has prior claim.'

  'Mama has the greater need, for she is older and in poor health. Don't you understand how travelling exhausts her for days afterwards? Did you not read her note, I asked you?'

  'But my dear Coz, I never read notes from Aunt Emily, as they invariably demand I do something I don't want to do.'

  Damaris stifled a chuckle. Then she realized Miss Frayne was surveying her, with a somewhat suspicious look in her eyes.

  'Don't be so disobliging, Luke. I need your help.'

  'So does Miss Hallem. I must escort her back to her home. Surely you do not expect me to desert her in the middle of the street, and leave her to find her way home by herself?'

  'Well, can't you send a groom with her? I'm sure Miss Hallem would understand, in the circumstances, that Mama and I have a prior claim to your attention.'

  'Not in my view. This charming lady, as you may have gathered, Miss Hallem, is my cousin Miss Jennifer Frayne. Jennifer, Miss Hallem is the owner of Frayne Castle.'

  Miss Frayne's look of suspicion deepened

  'I thought the name was familiar. But Luke, how does it come about you are associating with one of that family? The Cits? If she wishes to enter Society, though I cannot conceive how she thinks it will benefit her, even if some of the ton, the less discerning of them, receive her, I would expect her to wear something less lurid than those garish scarlet reveres!'

  'Miss Frayne, I may be descended from honest tradesman, but I trust you are not suggesting I am a Scarlet Woman,' Damaris said softly.

  The Earl stifled a laugh.

  'Come, Miss Hallem, allow me to escort you home. You can inspect my house another time.'

  *

  Jennifer was distracted as she supervised the rest of the unloading and bestowal of the mountain of luggage she and her mother had brought to London. Why was Luke riding with that girl, and why should he be anxious to show her his house? All her life she had listened to her parents castigating the Hallem family, claiming that the loss of Frayne Castle, which none of them had ever seen, had been achieved by old Mr Hallem's trickery. If Luke owned it, her mother frequently insisted, he would be more willing to settle another of his estates on Clarence, and they would not then be obliged to hang on Luke's coat tails.

  Jennifer sometimes wondered at her mother's powers of reasoning. Surely, even if Clarence possessed one of the smaller estates and the income from it, they would still not be able to afford their own house in town? They must continue to use this one, but what possible interest could it be to this Hallem chit, with whom Luke was apparently friendly?

  She left her maid unpacking and went down to the drawing room, the better able to think. It was while she was drinking her second cup of tea that a possible explanation occurred to her, and she set down the cup hurriedly, her hands shaking. Surely, even to acquire Frayne Castle, Luke could not be contemplating marriage to its new owner?

  All her life Jennifer had expected to marry her cousin. She had, as a child, tried to follow him and emulate all his exploits, trailing after him round the gardens and parks of the houses they stayed in. He had frequently been exasperated when she fell into streams because she could not balance on the logs thrown across them as bridges, or became stuck in trees, was frightened of the sound of guns, sick when she saw a rabbit being skinned, or refused to enter fields inhabited by cows. He had been blamed when she broke her arm sliding down the bannisters after him. Despite it all, she was determined to become Lady Frayne.

  As they grew older her certainty began to diminish. Until she was five and twenty she maintained that all young men needed to sow their wild oats, which was what Cousin Luke was doing. Afterwards, when he still gave no indication that he enjoyed her company, indeed frequently showed his irritation with her, she began to believe he never would propose. While he remained free, however, she still clung to a faint hope.

  She had considered attempting to make him jealous, but finally recognized she was not a girl who attracted lovers. No man had ever made up to her. She was not pretty, or vivacious, qualities men seemed to appreciate, and she had only a small competence. She could remember clearly the very few occasions when she had ridden or driven with young men, none of whom had repeated their invitations, and the many evenings when she had had to sit at the side of a ballroom, lacking a partner.

  She tried to think clearly. Luke was bound to marry at some time. She had no illusions about her brother and was quite aware that Luke despised him. She did herself. He had been a child who whined for what he wanted and sulked when it was denied him. Luke would not wish him to succeed to his title and fortune. He had to marry, and since he showed no inclination to marry her, or anyone else, why should he not wed this Hallem girl?

  She was trying to find arguments against this conclusion when a letter was brought in by a young footman.

  'Ma'am, Miss, shall I leave this here?'

  'Who is it directed to?'

  'There isn't any direction, Miss.'

  'Give it to me, then.'

  When he left the room she turned over the missive. It had no direction, so it could be meant either for Luke, or his sister or her husband who were staying here. There was only one way to be certain, she reassured herself, so she broke the wafer and opened out the sheet of paper. What she read there made her thoughtful. How could she use this?

  ***

  Chapter 6

  When Luke, having escorted a silent Damaris back to Cavendish Square, and dragged from her a promise to drive with him on the following afternoon to discuss their plans, returned to Upper Brook Street it was to find Jennifer seated in the drawing room. His cousin had a book open in front of her, but was obviously not reading it. A tray of tea was on a table beside her, and he wondered what had happened to the one she had been ordering her maid to take to her room. Did she drink endless cups of the insipid brew, or had the maid's instructions been countermanded? He poured himself a glass of brandy, and turned to see her glaring accusingly at him.

  'Do you always use the drawing room when you are still wearing riding clothes and stinking of horseflesh?'

  'It is my drawing room, may I remind you?' he said mildly, trying not to let his annoyance show.

  She ignored him. 'And I hope you are not going to become inebriated,' she added.

  'On a small glass of brandy? You underestimate my capacity.'

  'I want to know what you were doing with that woman. She's not fit to associate with the Fraynes.'

  'No,' he said slowly, grinning, and she looked at him suspiciously. 'I wonder if the Fraynes are fit to associate with her? I will ensure you do not meet her again.'

  Jennifer glared at him.

  'Why do you always attempt to be funny? Is she
another of your lightskirts? I thought your latest chère-amie was a Miss Cartwright.'

  'Oh, Coz, you are so behind the times! I said my farewells to Catherine Cartwright weeks ago.'

  'Then why is she writing to you? It does not sound as though she believes that was final.'

  'What do you mean?'

  He felt his anger grow. He knew Jennifer, and found his suspicions confirmed when for answer she waved a sheet of heavily embossed notepaper at him.

  'This was delivered here soon after we arrived. The footman who brought it gave it to me, and since there was nothing to indicate for whom it was meant, I read it.'

  He almost snatched the letter from her hand, and quickly scanned it.

  'You grow even more impertinent. It could not have been for you. If you and your mother are to remain in this house I must insist you cease interfering in my business.'

  He turned his back on her injured self-justifications and marched from the room. If he had stayed, he thought as he stalked into his book room and slammed the door to, he might have wrung the woman's neck. He'd give instructions to all his servants that all notes and letters were to be given to him in future.

  He threw himself into a deep armchair before the fire and read Catherine's missive more slowly. So she was already tired of Lord Stanton, was she? She regretted her hasty words when they had parted, did she? She missed him, and dearly longed for another chance to show him how truly fond of him she was. He crumpled up the sheet and tossed it into the fire. Why were all the women in his life so confoundedly difficult? Even Barbara, with her wretched dog, was creating problems. And he had not yet met his aunt. After a few minutes he rose, went to change from his riding clothes, and walked to White's, determined not to return until long after midnight.

  *

  In Cavendish Square Damaris found Mary fretting over Tommy, who was tearful but refused to be put to bed, clinging instead to his mother and pushing away everyone else who tried to tempt him with food or games.

  'I am convinced he has the measles,' Mary said with a sigh. 'Nurse says it starts with a fever.'

  Damaris laid her hand on Tommy's forehead, and he screamed and tried to push it away.

  'Have you sent for a doctor?'

  'Yes, and he said it was simply a cold, and would probably be gone in two or three days.'

  'Then we can only wait. Will he not permit anyone else to hold him? You look in as much need of rest as he does.'

  'It wears me down when either of them are sickly. Amelia is out with Nurse for a short airing, and I mean to give Tommy a small dose of laudanum, and put him to bed in my room. Thomas will sleep in his dressing room, he cannot abide being disturbed when the children are unwell.'

  'I think most men are the same,' Damaris said, but thought fondly of how, when she had suffered childhood ailments, her grandfather had sat up all night with her, telling her stories and giving her soothing drinks until she fell asleep.

  When Tommy, exhausted, had finally succumbed, Mary had a tray in her room. Sir Thomas, hearing the news, said he would dine at his club, and Damaris told the butler she would have a tray also. She had a great deal to think about, and welcomed the opportunity of no distractions.

  Had she been quite insane to issue that challenge to Lord Frayne? Was her beloved grandfather turning in his grave to think she might lose the inheritance he had nurtured so carefully for her? Not all her inheritance, she reminded herself. She had retained enough sense to stipulate it would only be the Castle. And perhaps it would really be just if he did win it back. She did not approve of gambling for more than penny stakes, and it had only been through an unlikely gamble that the Hallems had gained possession of Frayne Castle. And all that had followed, she reminded herself, the wealthy marriages, the building of a fortune on the basis of the Castle estates, and her own existence.

  She was desperately torn. Ought she to offer more? At the notion her resolve stiffened. If Lord Frayne had not insulted her by making it clear he only proposed in order to regain the Castle, she would not have wanted to teach him a lesson, and would not have made that ridiculous challenge.

  How expert was he at chess, she suddenly wondered. He had looked pleased when she had proposed that, and she had detected a smile of satisfaction on his lips. He clearly considered himself a good player. She had played almost every evening with her grandfather, but rarely with anyone else, so she did not really know how good she was. She smiled to herself. At least she knew she was not an expert in card games, which were probably what he had expected her to suggest.

  Her thoughts turned to practicalities. Where would they hold the contests? It would not be proper for her to visit his house, especially now his aunt and deplorable cousin were in residence, so he would have to come to Cavendish Square. Would Mary agree, or would she consider Damaris had lost her senses, and in her capacity of chaperone forbid the whole exercise? Would she even call upon Humphrey to try and use his authority as guardian? Surely, knowing Humphrey and his overbearing ways, Mary would not involve him.

  Damaris felt a moment of apprehension at the thought of what Humphrey would say if he found out about the challenge, and how he would rage and bluster at her, shouting and forbidding her to take part, and threatening to haul her back to Yorkshire tied hand and foot.

  The image made her smile again, for she was not intimidated by him, but to avoid trouble she determined she would beg Mary not to tell him.

  She had poured scorn on the notion of Lord Frayne's that Humphrey wanted to marry her, even though she had sometimes wondered about it. He didn't even like her, and had, as he often said, only taken on his guardianship because her grandfather had asked him to, and she had no nearer relatives, so he considered it his duty. Humphrey always laid great stress on duty, continually reminding her it was his sense of responsibility which had made him agree to undertake the task, despite his other commitments which took up so much of his time.

  He was being paid to undertake the responsibility by her grandfather's man of business, she knew. He was moderately wealthy himself, and could not need such an inducement, but long ago she had discovered her cousin to be acquisitive. He would not have turned down such payment.

  Did he indeed want to marry her, to gain her fortune? She shuddered at the very idea. While she did not find him actually repellent as a man, she did not enjoy being in his company. She tried to analyse why not. She was not afraid of him, either in a physical way or because of his domineering manner. Perhaps, and she felt some disquiet at the thought, she was ashamed of his loud voice and bombastic manner in company.

  He visited Frayne Castle infrequently, maintaining he could not leave his business in Whitby for too long, so she had never had to put up with him for more than a couple of days. What would it be like living in the same house all the time, unable to get away?

  She shook herself. As she was under no circumstances about to marry him, even if that was his own intention, it would never happen, so she could stop even thinking about him. Instead she would try to recall some of the chess games she had played with her grandfather, remembering the moves, the strategies he had taught her, and preparing herself for what she suspected would be a difficult game with Lord Frayne.

  *

  Luke found himself sitting next to Sir Thomas Gordon in White's that evening. He had met the man a few times, but did not know him well. However, as host to Miss Hallem he might have useful information regarding her. Luke began to chat, innocuous remarks about the weather, the social events of the Season, and the theatre. His attempts were soon rewarded.

  'I can't think why the women put such stress on these few weeks in London,' Sir Thomas said. 'And why my wife wants to encumber herself with introducing a debutante and staying here for the entire Season I can't imagine. Just because her older sister was the chit's governess, and she lived in the parish when her father was Rector there.'

  This was a fortunate meeting, Luke thought. He could perhaps discover more about the wretched girl.

 
'You mean Miss Hallem, I collect?' Luke said. 'I have met her. She is rather old to be making her come out, is she not?'

  'She's twenty, and it should all have been over and done with years since. But first her grandfather died and she was in mourning. Then my son Tommy was born, so Mary could not come, and last year the girl herself was ill.'

  Luke knew this, and had been frustrated himself for three years, unable to meet Miss Hallem. He had considered trying to meet her at one of the watering places, but had discovered she rarely visited any, and as he did not either, any such move would have aroused instant suspicion amongst his cronies.

  Sir Thomas was continuing.

  'I was half expecting something to prevent it this year, and I would not have been sorry. Why she doesn't settle for marriage with her cousin, instead of hoping to find a husband here in London, I can't imagine. He'd be a far more suitable husband for her.'

  'Her cousin? That would be Humphrey Lee, I assume. Or does she have other cousins?'

  'He's the only one. I've only met him a couple of times, but he's rather a boorish chap. Abrupt, domineering. That comes of owning some sort of manufactory, I suppose. Not at all my sort, but no doubt marriage would soon smooth down the rough edges.'

  Luke felt sorry for Damaris, but Sir Thomas was continuing.

  'The fellow's her guardian, and I suppose he may have some scruples about marrying his ward. Men often do, if the ward has a fortune, and they are afraid people will say they took advantage. Or he may think that a Season will knock some of the nonsense out of her head.'

  'Is she that sort of girl, full of nonsense?'

  'I can't say, I hardly know her. But are not all girls and women full of romantical nonsense? Mary likes her, though, and so far she has not caused any commotion in the house. Mary said she was helpful on the journey, with the children, you know.' He chuckled. 'I made an excuse not to travel with them and came later. Couldn't stand the thought of three days in a coach with two squalling brats, and I didn't fancy riding escort all the way from Yorkshire.'