The Makeshift Marriage

by Sandra Heath

  A great many fashionable carriages had been drawn up along the wall of the churchyard, and Laura recognized both Augustine’s barouche and the Earl of Langford’s landau.

  Daniel squeezed Laura’s finger briefly. “Courage,” he murmured. The carriage lurched to a standstill and as the footman flung open the doors, the sound of the bell and the more distant droning of the May horns leaped in. She distinctly heard the buzz of interest pass through the gathered crowd as Daniel climbed down, but she did not see the glances that were exchanged. It was true then, the glances said, about Lady Grenville and Doctor Tregarron….

  Daniel held his hand out to her, but uncertainty seized her, making her hesitate. He reached in then to take her hand firmly, and so she climbed down. The sunlight was very bright after the enclosed carriage, and she did not glance around at anyone. If she had, she would have seen a sea of unfriendly faces, for in their view she was an adventuress—a meddling, interfering temptress whose activities threatened their future and whose morals were already proved to be virtually nonexistent by her immediate commencement of a passionate affair with Daniel Tregarron.

  The gathering remained silent as she and Daniel passed beneath the lych-gate and walked up the cinder path beneath the overhanging yew trees toward the church.

  The church was crowded, and everyone turned as one as they entered. After the dazzling sunlight, the church was as dark as the landau had been, the only brightness coming from the magnificent stained-glass window behind the altar. There were flowers everywhere, filling the musty air with their perfume, and golden vessels shone on the altar. A tall, jeweled cross rose in the center, glittering beautifully in the rainbow light from the window behind, and Laura kept her eyes on that cross as she and Daniel walked down the aisle toward the second of the two Grenville pews, the first of which was already occupied by James Grenville.

  Whispers spread through the congregation, and she knew that her cheeks were flaming as Daniel opened the low door to the pew and handed her inside. Augustine and her mother were already in their allotted places, but they moved still farther away along the wooden seat as Laura knelt to pray, thus ensuring that there was a suitably noticeable gap between their persons and those of Lady Grenville and her paramour. Augustine smiled with great satisfaction as she glanced around and saw the raised hands and fans, behind which the whispering condemnation went on. Yes, it had been such a simple exercise on her part, merely a matter of dropping a word in the ear of the likes of Betsy May Jenkins, and already the whole of Langford and the surrounding area was aware of what was apparently going on between Laura and Daniel Tregarron. Laura herself gave no hint that the rumors could be true, but one only had to look at the doctor’s warm eyes to know that he would bed the new mistress of King’s Cliff if he could. The smile still played around Augustine’s perfect lips, for soon the rumor would be imparted to Nicholas himself, and that would see an end to any faint hope Laura may have had of retaining her empty marriage.

  James Grenville sat stiffly in his pew across the aisle. He glanced neither to the right nor to the left, his plump hands clasping the carved ivory handle of his cane, and behind him, in her pew, the Countess of Bawton, influential and domineering matriarch of the family to which the Reverend Tobias Claverton was proud to belong, raised her quizzing glass to survey Laura closely. The Countess of Bawton resembled a crow, for she always wore black, her nose protruded in a way that unfortunately recalled a beak, and her voice when she spoke was deep and croaking. Now her lips were purged sourly and disapproval registered in every fiber of her bony body as she lowered the quizzing glass and sniffed audibly.

  At that moment the service began, and Tobias, in his flowing vestments, announced the first hymn. His sermon was up to his usual dismal and lengthy standard, for he seemed quite incapable of choosing an interesting text. When he had been preaching for an hour, almost the entire congregation was shifting uncomfortably, and only the Countess of Bawton remained motionless, her attention fully on her blundering kinsman. But everyone’s attention was caught when suddenly they heard him mention Laura by name.

  “And may I take this opportunity to welcome among us Lady Grenville, wife of our dear Sir Nicholas, who we so recently thought lost to us forever after a dastardly attack upon his life in a foreign land. We all pray constantly for his recovery.” The vicar’s eyes slid uncertainly toward the Earl of Langford, for everyone knew that that was the last thing he would pray for! “A-and now to happier things,” he went on, “May God send His blessings upon our dear Princess Charlotte, our future queen, and her new husband, Prince Leopold. May He grant them long and fruitful lives, and much happiness. And may God grant too that the forthcoming nuptials between Princess Mary, sister of our beloved Prince Regent, and the Duke of Gl—”

  Abruptly Tobias fell silent, and a ripple of amusement passed through the congregation, for everyone knew of the bitter rift between the Duke of Gloucester and the Earl of Langford. James Grenville scowled blackly at the unfortunate preacher, whose nervous glance went beyond him to the Countess of Bawton, whose face was similarly black, but for another reason. Her nostrils flared and she tapped her cane once upon the stone-flagged floor, commanding her relative to continue or it would be the worse for him.

  Tobias cleared his throat miserably, for whatever he said now he would offend one of them, and better the earl than the dear countess. “Between Princess Mary and the Duke of Gloucester,” he continued, “who is so soon to be a guest of the Countess of Bawton and who will, I earnestly hope, be a worshiper at this very church during his stay.”

  The countess sat back with great satisfaction at the stir of interest that went through the church. James Grenville’s fury was evident as he turned to glower at her, but she ignored him. The Duke of Gloucester was a prize infinitely superior to James Grenville, Earl of Langford, for the dear duke was a prince of the royal blood, cousin of the Prince Regent. James Grenville was just a Grenville, and thus of little consequence when set beside her illustrious visitor.

  Daniel smothered a smile as he witnessed the various silent exchanges, and for his pains received a look from the earl that would have annihilated a lesser man. Daniel merely returned the glance, allowing his mirth to show openly then, which infuriated James Grenville all the more. Snatching up his top hat, gloves, and cane, he stomped from the church, leaving a ripple of chatter behind, and the unfortunate Tobias to stare, openmouthed.

  But if there was little love lost between the countess and the earl, that certainly did not mean that the countess would either accept or approve of Laura in any way whatever, and that much was made quite clear as they left the church afterward. Tobias made a further blunder by choosing to engage Laura and Daniel in conversation by the porch, thus affording everyone the chance of snubbing them as they passed. Not a word was uttered, skirts were flicked aside, heads averted, as the entire congregation filed out. Laura remained miserably where she was, her eyes downcast, her hand on Daniel’s arm, as Tobias Claverton stumbled from pleasantry to pleasantry, all the time wishing the ground would open up and swallow him—or them.

  Augustine and her mother had already left by the time Laura and Daniel at last escaped from the vicar. They had added to the insults by deliberately sweeping out without a word, and they had not glanced at the other occupants of their pew throughout the service. Their disapproval could only be noted.

  The gathering of Langford people was still by the lych-gate as Daniel and Laura left the churchyard, and now for the first time she looked around at them all. Their unfriendly eyes looked back and she saw the accusation there. She saw in particular the Tibdale brothers, the poachers of the marsh, now resplendent in their best clothes, their faces pink and scrubbed, their shirts neat and ironed. As she looked, one of them spat contemptuously on the ground before turning to walk away.

  Daniel helped Laura into the carriage and then climbed in himself. As the door closed, the children in the crowd began to blow their May horns, and the discordant sound jeered
and mocked as they ran after the moving carriage, following it down the long street toward the bridge. Laura hardly heard them, however, for now her thoughts moved on to what must be done on their return to King’s Cliff—the carrying out of their plan to relieve James Grenville of control of the house and the estate. She closed her eyes nervously, and Daniel took her hand, drawing it soothingly to his lips as he mistook the gesture for reaction to what had happened at the church.

  “Don’t let them hurt you,” he said gently, “for they are not worth your pain.” But then his attention was snatched away as the coachman put his team at the bridge again, coming dangerously close to touching the wheels against the stone parapet.

  Angrily Daniel lowered the window and leaned out, his words snatched by the wind as the carriage sped up the hill. “You damned fool! You almost feather-edged men!”

  “I’m sorry, Dr. Tregarron, I didn’t mean—”

  “You’re paid to drive this damned drag, not to aim and fire it!”

  “Yes, Dr. Tregarron.”

  Daniel sat back again, looking anxiously at Laura. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes.”

  The carriage drove on toward King’s Cliff, and she swallowed as it turned in through the gates. Her stomach was beginning to churn now, for there was so much that could go wrong. At the very least Nicholas could be caused anxiety…. Her hands were ice cold.

  Now Daniel knew the reason for her pallor. “Soon it will all be over,” he said gently. “The operation, the sale of the jewels, the ending of the threat from the moneylender.”

  She managed a smile, but her heart was not in it. At the door of the house, however, something happened to restore a little of her shaky confidence and depressed spirits.

  A gardener stood there, his hat removed and held against his chest as he shyly approached her. “My lady?”

  “Yes?” She thought he looked a little familiar.

  “My name is Roberts, Frank Roberts.”

  “Kitty’s father?” She smiled at him.

  From behind his back he drew an enormous bunch of red and yellow tulips which he held out to her. “From my own garden, my lady, to say thank you for your kindness to my daughter.”

  Her eyes shone with pleasure as she accepted the flowers. “Why, thank you.”

  “They aren’t much, and they certain sure aren’t a match for your beauty, Lady Grenville, but I grew them myself and I’m proud of them. I hope you don’t mind me being so bold.”

  She smiled. “I don’t mind at all; in fact I’m very pleased to be given such a beautiful bouquet. Thank you.”

  He bowed and then hurried away down the steps, his boots crunching on the gravel drive.

  Daniel glanced at her. “He’s right, you know.”

  “About what?”

  “They aren’t a match for your beauty.”

  Chapter 22

  Laura anxiously paced back and forth across the library floor, her hands clasped nervously in front of her and her eyes lowered to the richly patterned carpet. The smell of books was all around, and through the slightly opened windows she could hear the hounds whining and yelping in their kennels. Glancing out she saw the fresh wheel marks in the newly raked gravel. It was over an hour now since Augustine and her mother had departed for Taunton, and yet Henderson had still not come.

  She turned to Daniel, who stood by the fireplace. “Something has gone wrong. I know that it has!”

  “Give him time. The pursuit of the fair sex is not something to be accomplished in seconds!” He smiled a little as she resumed her restless pacing.

  There was a quiet tapping at the door and the valet’s face peered around it. Seeing they were alone, he came in. “My lady.” He bowed.

  “You have seen the maid?”

  “I have, Lady Grenville. She took some persuading, I can tell you, for she’s mortal afraid of Miss Townsend, who’s no easy mistress, but in the end she agreed to meet me. She’ll be well away from Miss Townsend’s room at three o’clock.”

  She glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. One hour from now….

  Daniel nodded. “Thank you, Henderson.”

  The valet hesitated, glancing from one to the other. Should he mention the rumours about them, which were rife belowstairs? After a moment’s hesitation, he thought better of it, for if the rumors were true, then he would be making a sorry mistake with his revelations. With a slight bow, he retired from the room, but outside he paused again. He could not believe that Laura would so easily turn from Nicholas to Daniel Tregarron. In Venice it had been so very obvious that she loved Nicholas with all her heart. Even so, the valet walked on, unable to bring himself to tell her what was being said of her and the doctor.

  * * *

  As the hour of three approached, Laura and Daniel strolled along the passage, to all intents and purposes engaged in admiring the various paintings on the paneled walls. Their route took them past Nicholas’s room—for Augustine’s rooms lay beyond it—and at the closed door, Laura halted.

  “May I see him?”

  “He is sleeping, and it is best that he does so while he may, for soon the pain will prevent any such rest.”

  “He will survive the operation, won’t he?” she asked suddenly, putting her hand on Daniel’s arm.

  “I will do all in my power to see that he does, Laura, but no doctor can state categorically that his patient will endure through such an operation. It is my honestly held opinion that the judicious use of sweet vitriol will ensure his safety throughout, but much as I would dearly like to, I cannot promise you anything.”

  Her eyes were filled with doubt and fear and Daniel put his hand to her cheek, making her look at him again. “It must be done, Laura,” he said softly. “There is no alternative, for if that bullet is left any longer it will of a certainty make the wound putrid. I have delayed as much as I dare, for he was severely weakened by both the ague and the journey from Venice. Now is the time to do what must be done, and I sincerely urge you not to turn back at the eleventh hour.”

  After a moment she nodded. “I will not fail you, Daniel.”

  “You do not fail me, Laura. Indeed, had you not doubted, I would have been surprised. Everyone doubts; it is natural to be wary—especially when you are concerned with the man who is dearest to you in the world.”

  Somewhere a clock struck three, and Laura turned to look along the passage toward Augustine’s room, but there was no sign of Betsy May. Perhaps she had changed her mind. Perhaps she had already gone to meet Henderson. How could they know for sure?

  Augustine’s door was of imposing gold and white, the gold repeating over and over again the Grenville sun in splendor, and Laura’s pulse was racing as Daniel listened carefully for a moment before slowly opening the door. The sunlit room beyond was deserted; there was no sign of Betsy May. They went quickly inside, closing the door behind them again.

  The room was very beautiful, its walls swathed with pale gray silk, and the plasterwork was so heavily and ornately gilded that it reminded Laura of her room in the Hotel Contarini. The bed’s rich drapes were of royal blue velvet, and on the floor was a carpet picked out in a delicate blue and cream pattern. The Grenville emblem was everywhere, the sun’s rays reaching magnificently over plasterwork, carvings, friezes, and doorframes.

  Daniel wasted no time. He went to one wall where a large painting of an Italian landscape had been hung, and he lifted it carefully down, revealing that the wall was false and that a small cupboard was concealed there. He smiled at her. “I gather that the key rests in a secret drawer somewhere in the dressing table, but I do not know exactly where.”

  As he began his search something caught Laura’s eye in the empty fireplace. She picked it up. It was a sheet of crumpled parchment and she had seen it before, in Augustine Townsend’s hand as she had spoken of her nurse’s tragic illness. Laura flattened the parchment and stared at its blank surface. There was no trace of ink, not a word—it was further proof that Augustine had gone to Taunton
for purposes other than those she had stated to Nicholas. Tossing the parchment down in disgust, Laura went to help Daniel search for the secret drawer.

  They had been searching for only a very short time when they suddenly heard voices at the door. Laura gasped, and Daniel moved swiftly, taking her hand and drawing her behind the heavy drapes at the windows. He pulled her close and she hid her face fearfully in his coat, her eyes closed tight and her heart beginning its wild beating again, The door opened, and Daniel glanced in dismay at the painting, so obviously resting against the wall beneath the secret cupboard.

  Betsy May stood with her hand on the door, her back toward the room. “Listen here, Johnny Henderson, I just can’t go with you, not when I’ve got so many things to do for Miss Townsend. I must have been mad to say I’d meet you.”

  The valet glanced past her and saw to his relief that there was no one to be seen. “Can’t your tasks wait just a while?” he asked. “Just a little while, eh?”

  “No.” The maid pouted, pleased by his flattering attention.

  “Come on,” he urged. “You’ve plenty of time to do what your mistress wants afterward.”

  “No, I haven’t.”

  “All right,” he said suddenly, “Do your tasks, there’s plenty of other wenches I can take my pick of.”

  “That’s not fair….”

  “You may be the handsomest of them all, Betsy May Jenkins, but I don’t have to wait around on the likes of you.”

  She hesitated, torn between her duty and her desire for glory belowstairs. The glory won the day. “All right,” she said at last. “All right, I’ll come with you.”

  To the immense relief of the two behind the curtains, the maid went out again, closing the door behind her. They remained in each other’s arms for a moment, absolutely motionless until everything was completely quiet again.