'I trust that when you finally get around to asking her you are more adroit. I would like you to be able to provide me with a grandchild soon.'
He took a deep breath.
'I promise I will not attempt to kiss her unless she is willing.'
'That is all I ask, apart from wishing you well. She is a delightful girl, and will make you an excellent wife. And while I know it would not count with you if you really loved a girl, I want her as my daughter. Goodnight, my dear, sleep well.'
***
Chapter 18
After their horses had been led away by farmer Jenkins's son, the Earl and Damaris went to look at the remaining Shetland ponies, and there they found Mr Jenkins himself, supervising the installation of half a dozen newcomers. Damaris commented that there were not two the same colour or markings, and moved closer to stroke their noses and talk to the wizened old man who seemed to be in charge.
'No, they vary a lot. These come from the Shetland Isles themselves,' Mr Jenkins explained. 'They're tough little beasties, but to ask them to walk all that way doesn't do. They came in a closed wagon. How are your two doing?' he asked, turning towards the Earl. 'You don't want to send them back, do you, now your little guests have gone?'
The Earl shook his head.
'No, I will keep them for my own children.'
Mr Jenkins looked at him with sudden interest, then glanced at Damaris.
'So you're getting wed, my lord? About time too, if I may say so. Mrs Jenkins will be thrilled, and wanting her old job back!'
'We're just going in to beg her hospitality. It isn't settled yet, Jenkins, so don't raise her hopes.'
Jenkins nodded his comprehension, and Luke wondered how soon the gossip would spread. He knew it was useless to demand secrecy. He must, whatever the result of the chess game, take a far more important gamble today.
Damaris came back towards them and he led her to the farmhouse, where the kitchen door stood open and a whole flock of hens scrabbled about just outside.
'Nanny Jenkins, may we come in?' his lordship called as they approached the doorway.
A woman in her late forties came to the door, wiping her hands on an apron and beaming with delight.
'Of course you can, my dearie. Shoo, shoo!' she added, and flapped her apron at the hens, which fluttered a yard or so back, squawking loudly.
'Dratted things. I keep asking Jenkins to make me a small gate I can prop up in the doorway here, to keep them out of my kitchen, but he's always too busy.'
'Tell him that if he can't find the time I'll borrow his tools and make one myself.'
She chuckled.
'That should do it. He'll be thinking of that see-saw you made, and your cousin Clarence fell off because it wasn't fixed tight. But come in, do. And this must be Miss Hallem? We heard you had guests at the Manor. Welcome, Miss. Come in, and have some of my last year's damson wine.'
'Don't!' his lordship exclaimed in mock horror. 'If you do your head will be too thick for you to even think! Yes, Nanny, this is Miss Hallem. We've come to beg a favour. We are having a chess contest, for a bet, and need somewhere private to play our last game. May we use your parlour?'
'Chess? That's a new one for needing privacy. Why can't you play at the Manor? There are dozens of rooms there.'
'You know my mama disapproves of any sort of gambling. We don't want her to know.'
'She'd think a game of chess was gambling? Have your wits gone begging, my lord?'
'Yes, I think they did when I started this contest. If I win I cannot think how I will explain it to Mama. Nor if I lose,' he said ruefully.
He had not considered how he might explain to his family his sudden and unexpected acquisition of Frayne Castle. But if matters went as he hoped it might not be necessary. They could believe he had acquired it in the conventional manner.
He glanced at Damaris and saw she was trying not to smile at his old nanny's blunt speech. Then Mrs Jenkins moved to the big table in the middle of the room, and gestured to the bowls and spoons set out there.
'It's my baking day, and I'll not leave it. The bread's already in the oven, and I'm short of cake and pies. I can't play propriety like the quality expect when a man and his lass are together. But you can use my parlour if you tell me there's nothing havey-cavey going on.'
'You have my word, and you may pop your head in whenever you wish, and perhaps bring us a slice or two of your new bread and some cheese?' Luke suggested, feeling an unexpected glow of warmth on hearing Damaris referred to as his lass.
'Get away with you. Ye'll have your work cut out to keep this one under your thumb,' she said to Damaris. 'Come on now, this way.'
*
The parlour was at the end of a passage, and overlooked the gardens at the front of the farmhouse. Like the parlours Damaris was accustomed to in her own tenants' farmhouses, it was rarely used, but well-furnished. There was a walnut table in the centre, several chairs placed against the walls wherever there was room in between various side tables and cupboards, some of them very old. All were highly polished, smelling of beeswax, as was the floor, on which there were several colourful pegged rugs. A gilt carriage clock had pride of place on the mantlepiece and was flanked by several jugs and vases. Two paintings of horses hung on the walls, and Mrs Jenkins pointed to them.
'You haven't seen Danny's last one, my lord,' she said. 'He's doing one of the Shetlands now.'
'Your son has talent,' the Earl said, walking across to inspect a painting of a group of sturdy carriage horses. 'Has he sold any more?'
'The vicar bought one, and Squire Templeton.'
'Perhaps he'll do one for me of my new Shetland ponies, after he's finished yours.'
Damaris found Mrs Jenkins looking at her intently, and then she smiled and nodded as though satisfied about something.
'Aye, he will. Now, can I get anything before you start?'
The Earl shook his head, and she went away, closing the door firmly behind her.
'I am still just a few years old according to Nanny Jenkins,' his lordship said, grinning.
'It's the same with Netta, my maid. Shall we begin?'
The Earl had brought a chessboard and set in a canvas bag, and he now unpacked it. It was smaller than the one they had used in Cavendish Square, and as she helped set out the pieces Damaris exclaimed at the beauty of the delicate carving. Instead of the more normal black and white, these were made of dark green jade and ivory.
'Your turn for white, my lord.'
*
Both were concentrating hard and the opening moves were made slowly and with intense care. Luke found he had an unresolved dilemma. He could not endure the prospect that, if he won and gained Frayne Castle, and then asked Damaris to marry him, she would perhaps feel he did it out of pity. It would be even worse if he lost and she still suspected he offered for the sake of the Castle rather than because he loved her. Ought he to speak to her before the end of the game? Before he could decide Damaris had taken one of his pawns, so he abandoned the idea and and concentrated more carefully.
After an hour they were only just entering the middle game. Luke was reasonably content with his moves so far. He had positioned his pieces in preparation for attack, and placed others ready to protect them when they were in danger. He wanted to attack Damaris's king, keeping him penned away from where he might be able to attack. It all evolved very slowly, and they were concentrating so hard they did not hear the door opening, until Mrs Jenkins set a tray down on the other end of the table and bade them help themselves to bread and cheese and ale.
'Thank you, Nanny,' Luke said, but did not look up until he had made his move. Then he glanced at Mrs Jenkins and surprised an indulgent smile on her face as she looked down at him. With exaggerated care she crept out of the room and closed the door.
The break in concentration forced Damaris into an unwise move, and she promptly lost her light-squared bishop, but within minutes she had captured Luke's dark-squared one. She bit her lip. Although
she had an extra pawn left Luke was well aware this promised ill for a decisive victory. Neither of them by now had the right pieces to force a checkmate.
And so it proved. Very soon it was stalemate. Both of them recognized it at the same moment. Luke suppressed a smile. It seemed it was about to resolve his dilemma.
'Let us eat some of this bread and cheese. I can promise you it will be the best you have ever tasted.'
He rose and went to pour ale into two tankards, and Damaris, stretching out her arms, also rose and went to take it from him.
'Do we have to have another match in order to decide?' she asked. 'But when can we arrange it? I must set out for Yorkshire very soon.'
He cut her a slice of bread and placed cheese on top.
'Eat this. I think this is the perfect outcome.'
'Perfect? But my lord, there is no decision! We are back at the beginning.'
'Indeed we are. And I am sure you recall what that beginning was. I had, very ineptly, made you an offer. One which you rightly took to be more of an attempt to gain the Castle than because I wanted you for wife.'
Damaris nodded. She was suddenly breathless.
'And I was so very angry!' she managed.
'As you had every right to be. Are you still angry with me?'
She laughed a little tremulously, shaking her head.
'How could I be when you have been so kind and considerate?'
'And I have come to know you and admire you. And love you.'
She stared up at him, her eyes enormous, and in them a puzzled look.
He laughed, then took a deep breath. It was time to to take the most important gamble of his life, but from the look in Damaris's eyes he though he had a very good chance of winning.
'You have every right to be sceptical, but this time, Damaris, I am asking you to be my wife because I love you. You can give Humphrey the Castle if you wish, and I will still want to marry you, more than I have ever wanted anything before. So you see how this game has helped us, neither of us winning at chess, but both, I hope, winning at love.'
'I – I think it would be the ideal solution,' she said, and suddenly smiled brilliantly. 'Luke, do you really love me?'
He took the tankard from her hand and placed it deliberately on the tray with his own. Then he relieved her of the slice of bread and cheese, which she had not even tasted, and put that down too.
'Come here and let me show you how much I love you,' he said, and opened his arms wide.
With a deep sigh she walked straight into them, grasped his shoulders, and held up her face to his. He bent to kiss her lips, and then brushed his own over her eyes, her cheeks, and her chin.
'So this is what you call chess, is it?' Mrs Jenkins said from the doorway, but her tone was indulgent.
Luke, with his arms still round Damaris, smiled at her.
'Be the first to congratulate me, Nanny! We are going to be married, just as soon as it can be arranged. And I know I am the most fortunate man in the world.'
*
The next few days went past in a blur for Damaris. She could hardly believe how it had all turned out. Only very occasionally did she remember how adamant she had been that she would never give control of her fortune to a husband. But then she had not known and fallen so deeply into love with Luke.
They decided to travel to Yorkshire together. Luke wanted to be there for Damaris's birthday celebrations, and they agreed to announce their betrothal on her birthday. They would marry as soon afterwards as could be arranged. Barbara declared she had no intention of going to Brighton as they had planned, she would far rather see her brother wed at last. The Countess, who rarely left Beechwood Manor, said nothing would prevent her from seeing her son married to a girl she loved already. Frances Willett, by now hobbling about on crutches, threatened to walk there if necessary, to be his friend's support.
A whole cavalcade of coaches set out a week later. Mary, replying to Damaris's somewhat incoherent letter, said the children were so much better they no longer felt the need for sea air, and they would also be in Yorkshire for her birthday. Her father fully understood they could not visit him until later than planned, and in fact hoped he might be invited back to Frayne, perhaps to help celebrate the wedding with the present vicar. Mrs Frayne would, Luke said, be informed after the event, as would Clarence.
'I suppose Humphrey will be there for your birthday?' Luke asked.
'He will have to be, with the lawyers, to hand all to me, but I refuse to allow that to interfere with my happiness. And I will not tell him of our marriage until it is too late for him to object. He has no right to do so, but probably will,' she added with a laugh.
To no one's regret, Humphrey wrote to say he washed his hands of her after the way she had treated him, and the lawyers could oversee everything. His presence was not needed at her birthday celebrations, and he had far more important matters to deal with in Whitby.
The birthday celebrations consisted of games and races, several short dramas enacted by the villagers and her tenants, recalling events in the lives of Damaris, her parents and grandparents, some of which sent her and Luke into whoops of laughter. They were followed by an enormous feast in the great hall of the Castle, and in the evening a dance in the largest barn on the estate. Damaris insisted that the tenants would feel more comfortable there than in the Castle itself.
It was as the dance was coming to an end that Luke called for silence, and drew Damaris's hand through his arm while he asked the tenants and villagers whether they approved of the marriage proposed. A huge cheer sent a colony of roosting rooks in a nearby spinney screaming into the air.
The wedding took place a month later, when Damaris was beginning to think it was never to happen. She had bowed to the pleas of Mary, the Countess, Barbara and Netta to delay for long enough to assemble her wedding clothes, and half a dozen seamstresses from York and Harrogate had been installed in the Castle.
Sir Thomas gave her away, Mary and Barbara were her matrons of honour, and Amelia, together with three little girls of the same age, daughters of tenants, her bridesmaids. Frank, by now managing with just a stick, supported Luke, and at last, after the wedding feast, they were able to be alone.
'I wish I could take you to Paris,' Luke said as they stepped into the chaise which was to carry them away. Netta and his valet had gone ahead, and apart from the coachman and groom were the only servants they were taking with them.
'I have no desire to see Paris, or Rome, or any other city,' Damaris declared. 'The cottage Francis's parents have lent us, on the shores of Lake Windermere, is all I want. We can walk, and ride, and sail.'
'And make love.'
Damaris knew she was blushing, and was thankful dusk was falling. They were to stay the first night in Ripon, in the best inn, where Luke had arranged for a whole suite of rooms.
She could eat very little of the supper provided, but drank the wine. When Netta came to ask if she needed anything Luke waved her away.
'I will maid my wife tonight,' he said, and Netta grinned and wished them a happy night.
'Not a peaceful or quiet one,' Luke said, laughing. 'Come, sweetheart, it is time.'
He took her hand and raised her, and led her into the adjoining bedroom. She was unaccountably nervous and her hand was trembling. Damaris expected him to want to undress her at once, but instead he doused all but one candle, shrugged off his coat, sat in a chair by the window from where they could glimpse the silhouette of the cathedral, and pulled her onto his lap.
'I sometimes thought this day would never come,' he said, kissing her. 'I think I began to love you almost as soon as we met. And I know I will love you and no other till the day I die.'
Gradually, talking about how their love had grown, she found her nervousness vanished, and when Luke began to unhook her gown she helped. Soon she was naked, rather astonished to find herself so, but totally unembarrassed, and thrilling to the look of admiration in Luke's eyes.
'You are so lovely, so small
and delicate,' he whispered, and lifted her into the bed. Seconds later, and she did not know how it had happened that he had disrobed so quickly himself, he was sliding in beside her.
She turned to him, all shyness gone, and clung to him as he caressed her, kissing and stroking until she was craving a release from tension. When it came, as he entered her, wave after wave of sensation, she clung even more fiercely. This, she thought happily much later, as she drifted off to sleep, her head on his shoulder and his arm cradling her, was more than she had ever expected, just perfect, delicious, and every other adjective she could think of, none of which truly expressed the utter joy and contentment she felt. It was, she thought as she finally dropped into sleep, such an amazing result brought about by her possession of Frayne Castle. If her grandfather had not won it, she would never have met Luke. The thought made her shiver, and Luke's arm tightened about her.
'Sleep well, sweetheart. We have many more nights for loving.'
###
THE END
Marina Oliver has written over 60 novels, and has converted most of them to Ebooks. Others have been or are being published as Ebooks by other publishers.
For the latest information please see Marina's web site:
http://www.marina-oliver.net
Two of my recent Regencies are now available as Ebooks from Robert Hale.
SCANDAL AT THE DOWER HOUSE
BY MARINA OLIVER
When Walter, Catarina's elderly husband, dies she moves to the Dower House so that the new Earl, Nicholas, can give the estate to his soldier brother Jeremy. Because Jeremy is injured at Waterloo Nicholas has to spend time at Marshington.
Catarina's sister Joanna, who has been inveigled into a clandestine marriage, arrives in distress. She is pregnant, and is told her marriage was a sham. To protect her reputation Catarina takes her to visit their Portuguese mother's relatives, and then stay quietly in Lisbon. Joanna rejects the baby, and Catarina takes the child back to England after Joanna decamps with a Brazilian.
Marriage Gamble Page 21
