The Makeshift Marriage

by Sandra Heath

  Laura began to draw away then, but he held her a moment more. “You are all right?”

  She nodded, suddenly very conscious of his closeness. His eyes were very dark as he released her. He didn’t say anything, but she was aware of him in a different way now, recognizing the strength of his desire for her. The realization came as a shock, and her hands were shaking a little as she went to continue searching for the drawer.

  It was Daniel’s questing fingertips that discovered the drawer’s whereabouts behind the dressing table. Something clicked and suddenly the drawer was protruding a little from an apparently solid expanse of polished satinwood.

  The key turned gratingly in the cupboard’s rusty lock, proof that the Grenville jewels were indeed never used by Augustine Townsend. A silver-gilt casket was revealed inside, and they took it to a table and opened it. Emeralds flashed with green fire in the sunlight, and pearls glowed soft and creamy white. There were sapphires of the darkest hue, turquoises, opals, and most of all, diamonds. Laura held her breath as she took out one of the necklaces, its diamonds glittering like the sun on water, the bright reflections shimmering on the gray silk walls—just as the water of the Grand Canal had shone on the walls of her room in the Hotel Contarini….

  The diamonds were fashioned in the Grenville emblem, many tiny suns linked together by golden chain. Daniel took the necklace and set it on a piece of soft cloth he had brought with him, but Laura retrieved it.

  “Not this one,” she said.

  “Why?”

  “Because it carries his family’s badge.” She replaced the necklace in the casket. “I do not think he would sell this particular piece, do you?”

  He smiled at her. “Possibly not, but it would certainly fetch a tidy sum.”

  “So will all the rest.”

  “Very well, the diamond necklace remains.”

  A little later a lot of the jewelry was safely wrapped in the cloth and hidden away in Laura’s reticule. The casket was replaced in the cupboard, the door locked, and everything put back in its place. As they left the room nothing looked as if it had been disturbed, and unless Augustine returned unexpectedly and happened to open the cupboard—which seemed very unlikely—no one would be any the wiser. Unless something went wrong.

  * * *

  Charles Dodswell was waiting in the library when they returned, and the moment the door was closed behind them, he took a rolled parchment from his pocket and laid it on a table.

  “I have done everything necessary for our purposes, my lady. If Sir Nicholas signs this, it will give complete power of attorney to you; you will be able to act in his name in whatever way you wish, exactly as if you were Sir Nicholas himself. The Earl of Longford will not be able to overrule you on anything, nor will Miss Townsend and her mother. Anything pertaining to King’s Cliff and its estate, anything belonging to Sir Nicholas—all will be under your jurisdiction until such time as Sir Nicholas himself states otherwise. You will be mistress of King’s Cliff in fact as well as in name.”

  She gazed thoughtfully at the document’s neat lines of even handwriting. “Does that mean that I will be able to implement the plans my husband has for King’s Cliff? I could sell the hounds, and the unwanted land and possessions if I wished?”

  Startled, they both looked at her. “Laura—” began Daniel.

  “I have thought about it, Daniel,” she interrupted, “and I believe I know what I am asking.”

  The agent nodded. “Yes, Lady Grenville, you would indeed be able to do those things, but I do not know if I would recommend you commencing such a mammoth undertaking. You will meet with much resentment in the neighborhood, and your enemies will be legion.”

  “Mr. Dodswell, as land agent here, you more than anyone else must be aware of the danger this estate will still be in after the threat from the moneylender has been removed. My husband’s health is such that he cannot do anything for himself, but if he were well, I know that he would immediately commence these sales.”

  Charles Dodswell smiled at her. “He would indeed.”

  “Then so must I.”

  “But you are a woman—”

  “Does that make me less able to carry out his wishes?”

  “That is not what I meant.”

  “If Nicholas puts his name to that document, I fully intend doing all I can to implement the changes he desires here.”

  Daniel watched her, and he could not keep the admiration from his eyes. She was so splendid, seeming to be so certain and determined, but it was all a fragile shell hiding the doubts and unhappiness beneath, and as always with her, he was affected profoundly. In that small moment he went beyond mere desire and into love itself.

  She picked up the document. “What must we do, Mr. Dodswell?”

  “Sir Nicholas must sign it before two witnesses—Daniel and myself—and then you too must sign it, as proof that you accept the responsibilities catalogued in the text.”

  She nodded. “Then let us see to it.” Before my bravery falters….

  Nicholas was awake, striving to hide his pain from Laura in a smile, when he noticed with some surprise that Charles Dodswell accompanied Daniel. “A physician and a lawyer—all I am lacking is a damned minister of the church!” His voice was quite clear now, free of the laudanum, although it was not strong. He winced a little as a shaft of pain pierced his body from his arm, and he leaned his head weakly back against the silk pillows as he tried to conquer it. His eyes were closed and beads of perspiration started on his pale forehead. His face, already drained of so much color, seemed to take on a more ashen hue as waves of pain washed over him.

  Anxiously she hurried to him, and he seized the hand she held out, crushing her fingers as another stab of pain passed jaggedly through him. “It will pass,” he gasped. “It will pass.” She felt each spasm as his fingers tightened and then relaxed, but then gradually the pain did indeed seem to go from him, for he breathed more easily and opened his eyes again. “Forgive me,” he whispered, “I did not mean to hurt you.”

  She smiled a little. “We are even, Nicholas, for I recall talk of viselike grips in Venice.”

  His eyes acknowledged the humor. Oh, how impossible it was for her to believe he had said those things to Augustine. She looked away, afraid that he would read her thoughts too clearly. “My poor Laura,” he murmured, “How very tedious married life has proved for you.” His gaze went past her then to Daniel. “I shall welcome the moment you begin your butchery, my friend, for this torment becomes too much.”

  “It will not be long now, I swear. I believe that the laudanum will have dispersed in an hour or so.”

  “If there is the merest trace of it in me now, I shall be damned surprised,” said Nicholas, wincing again as the pain returned. The air was sucked shudderingly through his clenched teeth as he sought not to cry out, and Laura could not bear it. She took his hand firmly, knowing that it would help him, if only a little. She almost cried out herself as his fingers tightened cruelly over hers, his nails almost drawing blood. The spasm held him for a long while, and then gradually it released him again. He leaned weakly back, breathing heavily for a moment.

  Then he looked at the agent. “Why are you here, Charles?”

  “Only a small matter, Nicholas.”

  “Let us hear it then.”

  “There is a fellow in Langford buying horses for the army, and he is prepared to pay top price for your animals.”

  “I’ll warrant he is, they are top horses.”

  “Before you left for Venice, you said that you wished to sell some of them, and unfortunately this fellow can only see them tomorrow as he has to travel on. As you know, your cousin the earl is away in Taunton, and would probably not wish to conduct such a sale anyway.”

  Nicholas smiled at that. “That goes without saying, my friend.”

  “So, the sale could still be accomplished, if someone else could act for you in his absence. Lady Grenville is prepared to take the responsibility.”

  Ni
cholas’s eyes swung shrewdly to her face, and she knew that already he was suspicious.

  The agent took out the document. “If you sign this—”

  “Charles Dodswell,” interrupted Nicholas, “I know when I am being humbugged. The army is always sniffing around for good horseflesh, and this fellow would be only too willing to return at a later date. You know that, and I know it, and yet you have gone to the extraordinary trouble of having a legal document drawn up authorizing Laura to act on my behalf. That is a humbug if ever I saw one. I may be weak and indisposed, but I am not in my dotage yet! What is all this really about?”

  “Merely horses—”

  “The truth, damn you! Something is wrong, isn’t it? Something connected with the estate?”

  The agent could not meet the intense gaze, and Daniel glanced away too, shying away from breaking such a truth to a man in Nicholas’s fragile state. He could sound sharp and alert, he could joke a little, but he was still very ill indeed, and a shock could do irreparable damage.

  It was left to Laura. “I will tell you, Nicholas,” she said at last, “but first I will also tell you that you must not worry because I can attend to everything, I promise you that.”

  “With the help of this bright pair?” The humor returned momentarily.

  “Yes.” She sat on the edge of the bed, smiling a little.

  “Tell me then.”

  “Mr. Peterson, the moneylender, has called in your father’s debt.”

  “Dear God above—”

  “But it can be met easily enough if the Grenville jewels are sold.” He said nothing and so she continued. “The earl will obviously not countenance such an act, and so I need your authority, Nicholas, if I am to keep the duns away.”

  He gave a short laugh at that. “St. George is to be rescued from the dragon by the damsel? But you are right about the jewels, and about needing my authority. My cousin would stand in the way of anything which would take from what he obviously still hopes will one day be his.”

  “I do not like your cousin.”

  He smiled. “I do not know anyone who does; he has none of my immeasurable charm.”

  “You are vain, sir.”

  His smile died away a little as he put his hand over hers. “You realize the implications of this document, don’t you? The short glimpse I have had of it tells me that you will be able to do far more than just sell the jewels.”

  “I know.”

  “Laura, I don’t want you to feel that you must—that you have to—”

  “I will not do anything I do not wish to.”

  The pain threatened to engulf him again, and he closed his eyes, his head falling back again. She shared every second of his agony, wanting to hold him in her arms, to stroke his golden hair and tell him how much she loved him. But she could do none of those things….

  At last he relaxed again and looked at her. “You are sure you wish to embark upon this?”

  “Yes.”

  “I have no right to expect anything of you.”

  “I am your wife, Nicholas, you have every right.”

  “Maybe, but the circumstances of our marriage would hardly….” He did not finish.

  “I made vows and I will honor them.”

  He smiled at her then, his tone light and teasing. “Honor, Laura?”

  “Yes.” She smiled too, remembering.

  He nodded at Charles Dodswell, who brought a small writing stand. As the agent prepared the document and dipped the quill in the ink, Daniel helped Nicholas into a position from which he would be able to write. The movement caused great pain, and it was some time before he was able to complete his signature.

  When Laura had put her own name to the document too, Nicholas drew her attention quickly. “About the jewels—”

  “Yes?”

  “Do not sell the diamond necklace.”

  “I have already set it aside, for I knew you would not wish it to go.”

  Daniel watched them. Maybe it was a marriage of convenience, maybe Nicholas was fool enough to be in love with Augustine Townsend, but there was no mistaking the special rapport he shared with his beautiful wife. He had guessed immediately what her intentions would be once she had the authority, and she had known instinctively about the necklace. Their thoughts seemed to move side by side, and they had only infrequently to explain anything to each other. Jealousy stabbed Daniel, and he turned away, unable to bear watching them even glance at each other. He lowered his eyes then, for as Nicholas’s oldest and closest friend, he knew him very well—well enough to realize that Laura possessed far more of her husband’s affection that she knew.

  Chapter 23

  Laura watched as the footmen carried more lighted candles into Nicholas’s dressing room, spacing them so that their light fell to the best advantage across the scrubbed table that now dominated the little room. Daniel placed his case of surgical instruments upon a chair and then took out a small, dark brown bottle and a neat pile of small cloths.

  She twisted her handkerchief over and over again as she watched the footman go to stand with his companion by the door. Everything was ready now; it only needed Henderson’s arrival….

  The window by which she stood was open and the scent of honeysuckle was very heavy from the shrub growing against the wall outside. Twilight had faded into the inkiness of a starless night, and a breeze stirred the curtains. By now Mr. Dodswell would be well on his way to Bath, lodged overnight in some wayside inn.

  There was a hint of damp in the draught from the window, and she knew that there would be rain before dawn. The sun had set behind a thick, impenetrable cloak of dark clouds, clouds which had crept over the horizon just a short while after the agent had departed on one of King’s Cliff fleetest horses. The cold air touched her warm skin through her flimsy muslin gown, ruffling the dainty ribbons on its puffed sleeves, and she drew her shawl more tightly around her.

  Daniel emerged from the dressing room as Henderson at last arrived. She turned then, her heart tightening. It was time…. She looked at Nicholas. He was still for the moment, exhausted by the almost constant pain, and he knew nothing of the touch of her lips on his as she prepared to leave.

  She glanced at Daniel. “You will come to me directly after it is finished?”

  “You know that I will.”

  “Let me stay.”

  “No, Laura.”

  “Please.”

  He held her gaze firmly. “No. I will work alone but for Henderson, Laura; on that I stand firm.”

  She accepted then. “I—I will be in the library.”

  “I promise that I will come to you as soon as I can.”

  “Save him for me,” she whispered, her eyes filling with tears. “I beg of you that you save him.”

  He nodded, and then she was gone, gathering her skirts as she hurried away. He stood where he was for a moment, and then went to the bed, touching Nicholas’s shoulder. “Nicholas?”

  The glazed, tired eyes opened immediately.

  “It is time.”

  “I pray your blade is sharp.”

  “None sharper.”

  “Where is Laura?”

  “I have sent her away. This is no place for her now.”

  There was an almost imperceptible nod. The footmen came to carry him to the table and the pain increased sharply, washing over him so severely that he thought he would lose his sanity. A cry escaped his tight lips, but he made no other sound as they laid him carefully on the table. The candles flickered wildly in the draught as the footmen left to wait outside in the passage as they had been instructed.

  Henderson remained nervously by the table, his face almost as pale as his master’s.

  “You are up to this?” asked Daniel swiftly, seeing the valet’s pallor.

  “I served with Sir Nicholas with Wellington in Spain, Dr. Tregarron. I’ve not worked with a surgeon before, but I’ve seen enough blood and pain to know what to expect.”

  “There will not be any pain,” reminded D
aniel, “not with sweet vitriol.”

  “What must I do?”

  “Sweet vitriol exerts its influence through its vapor, so it is important that neither you nor I inhale it ourselves. To that purpose I have improvised these masks. They are but cloth and strings, but they will serve to keep the vapor at bay for long enough for me to complete the operation. The liquid must be administered very sparingly, only one or two drops at a time on one of these cloths, and then the cloth must be placed so that he breathes deeply of the vapor. Are you clear on all that?”

  “Yes, Dr. Tregarron.”

  The valet’s hand were shaking as he opened the bottle and carefully allowed two drops to fall on a cloth. Daniel stared down at Nicholas for a moment. Laura’s husband’s life was in his hands…. Without this man, she would be a free woman, and Daniel Tregarron—oh, so eager to capture her.

  Henderson lowered the cloth, and slowly Nicholas’s pain-racked eyes closed. Daniel waited awhile before pinching the motionless hand, but there was no reaction. He took up his scalpel. But it was Daniel Tregarron the surgeon, the disciple of Paracelsus, who looked down at his patient then, not Daniel Tregarron, the man who would be Laura Grenville’s lover…. The blade flashed in the candlelight before cutting deep into Nicholas’s flesh. There was no cry of pain. No movement at all. Nicholas felt nothing, knew nothing.

  * * *

  The rain was falling heavily; she could hear it on the library windows. The ticking of the clock was the only other sound she heard as she sat in a deep leather chair, staring without seeing anything. How slowly time passed, she seemed to have been waiting for hours, and yet it was not all that long. Her thoughts returned to Venice, recalling Nicholas as he had been then, so virile and strong, so very attractive. She could see him now, lounging elegantly in the gondola, laughing at her with his eyes. And on the lido, riding like the wind on that black horse toward a break of tamarisk shrubs. And most of all at the end of that perfect day, when his lips had been so warm and soft as he had kissed her….

  “Laura?”

  Daniel was there, and immediately she started to her feet, but he put out a reassuring hand. “He sleeps now and is as well as can be expected. The operation was more complicated than I realized, for the bone was much splintered by the ball and I could not at first even locate the cause of the damage.” He tossed a tiny lead ball into a dish on the table beside her. “But in the end I succeeded.”