The Makeshift Marriage

by Sandra Heath

  He shifted uncomfortably. “King’s Cliff is a very large estate, Lady Grenville, and you have no experience—”

  “But you have, sir, and I shall be relying upon your help.”

  “You may call upon me in whatever way you wish, my lady.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Dodswell. You will write to Christie’s then?”

  “I will, and I will inform you the moment I hear from them. And now, with your permission, I would dearly like to return to the farm.”

  “Of course. And thank you again, sir.”

  “For you and Sir Nicholas, my lady, I would attempt to move heaven and earth.”

  She smiled. “I don’t know about heaven, Mr. Dodswell, but I sincerely hope you will shortly move a little earth, to say nothing of a good few pairs of hounds, and sundry other items.”

  * * *

  She did not disturb Nicholas, but stood for a moment by the bed looking down at him as he slept. Even when his health was brought so low, he was still very handsome, and so very arresting with his pale, clear complexion and golden hair. She touched his hair now, her fingertips so gentle that he felt nothing. She became aware of Augustine’s portrait at the bedside, and slowly she removed her hand.

  The wind howled eerily across the park, flinging rain against the window, and she crossed the room to look out. A draught moved through the house, making the solitary candle in the room sway a little. Shadows loomed over the pale gray walls and the gilded plasterwork glowed momentarily before the light settled into an arc which fell across the bed. Laura’s reflection was broken by the rain, and her distorted face was that of a stranger seen in a nightmare.

  She glanced back at Augustine’s portrait. She had spoken bravely enough to Daniel about not fearing to face her opponents now, but inside she was not at all confident. She had right on her side, but employing it successfully was another matter. And right would not keep her marriage intact, it would not win Nicholas’s heart, and it would not bring happiness.

  He stirred a little then and she went to him. He heard the movement and opened his eyes. “Augustine?”

  She stepped into the arc of light. “No, it’s only me.”

  “Only you?” He smiled a little. “My poor Laura, have I been so neglectful a husband that you feel like that?”

  “How are you feeling?”

  “There is not so much pain.”

  “You have Daniel to thank.”

  “I know. I know too how much agony I have been saved by his interest in sweet vitriol.” He paused, remembering other things. “I have seen field operations during battle; I know only too well what it could have been like.”

  “You will soon be well. Nicholas, I have good news for you. The jewels have been disposed of and so has the danger from the moneylender.”

  “It went well?”

  She nodded.

  “For which I have you to thank.”

  “I did nothing.”

  “That is not true. Laura, there are things that must soon be said between us.”

  “Yes.” Her voice was very small. Please don’t say it, please don’t tell me now….

  He watched her for a moment. “Has Augustine returned?”

  “No.”

  “I must see her first.”

  “I will see that she is told when she returns.”

  “Laura, I want to tell you—”

  “You must rest,” she said quickly. “You need all the rest you can get. I only came to tell you Mr. Dodswell’s news.” She backed away from the bed. If she wasn’t in the room, then he couldn’t say it; he couldn’t destroy the little dreamworld she sought so desperately to cling to.

  When she had gone, he thought he could still smell her perfume. So sweet a perfume.

  Chapter 25

  Daniel had departed the next morning when Augustine and her mother returned, their carnage arriving simultaneously with that of James Grenville, a coincidence which strongly suggested that they had been together while away.

  Laura waited in the red saloon. She had left instructions with Hawkins that Augustine and her mother were to be informed that she wished to see them as soon as they returned, and if the earl was with them, so much the better, for Laura could get the confrontation over with in one fell swoop. She felt strangely collected and calm, her hands not shaking at all as she clasped them before her. She could hear their voices now, and the stunned, disbelieving silence as Hawkins duly delivered his message.

  “Lady Grenville requests your presence in the red saloon.”

  The earl demanded an explanation for such impudence, and was informed that Lady Grenville was the mistress of the house.

  Her heart began to beat a little more swiftly as they began to come up the staircase, the earl muttering furiously, the two women whispering together. Laura swallowed, her chin raised just a little as the doors were flung open to admit the bristling figure of James Grenville. He was followed more sedately by Augustine and her mother. Augustine looked exquisite in mauve velvet and white muslin, and the tall feathers in her little beaver hat streamed proudly as she walked. There was a mocking smile curving her lips and it was obvious that she expected the earl to dispose of Laura in a matter of moments.

  James Grenville halted before Laura, his hands on his hips, his jaw jutting out truculently. “How dare you leave orders for me, madam!”

  “I have every right to request something of someone who is in my house, sir.”

  “I am master here while Nicholas is—”

  “I must correct you, sir. You are not master here, for Nicholas has given me power of attorney to act for him. You have no rights here, which I am at pains to point out—just as you once did to me, only I believe that I am being a little more polite about it.”

  “What damned nonsense is this?” he growled, his face pinched with anger and an expression in his eyes that told her he would dearly like to strike the smile from her lips.

  “It isn’t nonsense, sir; it is a legal and indisputable fact that my word is a command here now, not yours.”

  Augustine no longer looked quite so sure of herself and she glanced at her mother. Something in Laura’s attitude suggested that she was not bluffing. Slowly Augustine teased off her dainty white gloves. “So, my lady,” she taunted, “once again you have tricked Nicholas into something foolish.”

  “It is no trick; Nicholas was perfectly aware of what he did.”

  “As he was when he married you?” The scorn was not disguised.

  “He was hardly unaware.”

  “I will go to him immediately—”

  “Do so, by all means, but you will find that everything I say is true.”

  Augustine’s green eyes darkened. “He would not trust you with anything as vital as this!”

  “Go to him then,” said Laura smoothly. “No doubt you are anxious to hurry to his side anyway.” She could not resist this last pinprick, and was gratified to see the uneasiness in Augustine’s manner as she glanced swiftly at James Grenville. His whole body stiffened as he waited for her reaction.

  Augustine turned to her mother. “Mama, will you go to see Nicholas for us?”

  Mrs. Townsend nodded, gathering her cumbersome brocade skirts and sweeping from the room.

  The moments passed silently, as if on leaden feet, as they waited. Augustine’s eyes glittered with hatred as she looked at Laura, a fact Laura pretended to be unaware of. At last they heard Mrs. Townsend returning.

  Her face was pale as she appeared in the doorway. “He confirms what she says,” she said. “He has given her power of attorney.”

  Augustine turned in amazement. “He wouldn’t!” she cried.

  “He is most definite, Augustine.”

  A vein throbbed at James Grenville’s temple, and his face went pale and then dark again. He was impotent, and he knew it, but still he would not accept until Laura’s claim was backed by more than words. “I demand to see proof,” he snapped, “absolute proof.”

  She placed the parchment on the
table before him and he almost snatched it up. “I warn you,” she said, “that that is but one of two identical copies.” And may God forgive me for my lie….

  Augustine came to read the document with him. “Tregarron! And that fool Dodswell!” she cried. “I might have known!”

  James Grenville lowered the document at last. “You have been very clever, madam, for this gives you carte blanche, does it not?”

  “You certainly do not have such powers here anymore.”

  “For the moment.”

  “Before you leave I have something to impart to you.”

  “I leave in my own good time.”

  “You will leave directly I have finished speaking to you.” She held his gaze, and he said nothing more. “I wish to inform you,” she went on then, “that I am about to implement Nicholas’s own plans for his house and estate. Those plans include the selling of the hounds, the—”

  “No!” cried Augustine. “No!”

  “The selling of the hounds, the shedding of much unwanted land, and the eventual draining of King’s Cliff Moor to provide farming land.”

  “It’s damned madness,” spluttered the earl. “Damned lunacy!”

  “It is exactly the opposite, given the circumstances pertaining here at this time. What madness there has been has been of your doing, sir, and of Miss Townsend and her mother’s. Oh, and that reminds me…. Miss Townsend, about those invitations and plans you have set your heart on—I am afraid that as I warned you, they cannot possibly be contemplated. I have issued orders that everything is to be canceled.”

  “You’ve what?” breathed Augustine.

  “I believe you heard me. There will be no masquerade, no foolishly extravagant summer ball, and no guests who expect to wallow in King’s Cliffs lavish hospitality. The belt, in short, has been tightened more than a mere notch or two; it has been drawn in a very great deal.”

  “How dare you speak to me like that,” whispered Augustine, not trusting herself to speak louder her fury was so great.

  “Oh, I dare, Miss Townsend, I dare. My only concern is Nicholas, and I intend to see that his plans are carried out. I don’t much care for you, and I certainly do not care what you feel or think. I find you quite odious, Miss Townsend, as odious as the noble earl here, and that is odious indeed.”

  James Grenville snatched up his hat and strode from the room. When he was gone, Augustine’s lips curled into a snarl as she looked at Laura with all the venom she could muster.

  “You’ll pay for this, you’ll pay for every word! Nicholas has done this to outwit James, and that is his only reason! You mean nothing to him, for he is in love with me! What little trust there may be between you now will soon be shattered, that I promise you!”

  “Because you will tell him lies?”

  “Because he will believe what I say.”

  The poisonous hatred was chilling and Laura could all but feel it reaching out to touch her. Her own smile did not falter, however. “I think this disagreeable interview is at an end, Miss Townsend, for I have no desire to be dragged into a low demeaning contest of words with you. Good day to you.” With a slight inclination of her head, she walked past both mother and daughter.

  Augustine watched her. Soon that smile would be gone forever from the lips of Laura, Lady Grenville. Augustine looked at her mother. “Do you think the rumors I so providently set in motion have spread sufficiently far yet?”

  “That she and Daniel Tregarron are lovers? Yes, I would imagine that they had spread the length and breadth of the county by the end of the first day.”

  Augustine smiled. “They are about to reach Nicholas’s ears. I’ll destroy her for her impudence. I swear that I will trample her so low that she will never again claw her way up. He’s mine, and this house is mine; nothing and no one is ever going to alter that!”

  * * *

  Augustine’s skirts whispered coolly as she entered Nicholas’s room, and her beautiful face was a study of anxious concern. She hurried to the bedside, taking his hand and raising it softly to her lips, kissing the palm. “I have missed you so,” she whispered. “Each moment I was away seemed like an hour.”

  “How is your nurse?”

  “I am more concerned to know how you are.”

  “Better, as you can see.”

  Her fingers moved against his face, their touch gossamer light and full of aching love. “I love you so, Nicholas. I love you with all my heart.”

  “Augustine, I wish to speak to you—”

  “And I with you.” She stood abruptly. “I don’t know how to tell you this, Nicholas, but I feel that someone has to and the unpleasant task seems to have fallen to me.”

  “Tell me what?”

  “About your wife and—and….” Her voice shook as if she could not go on.

  His eyes sharpened. “And what?” he demanded.

  “It isn’t what, my dearest, it’s who.” Augustine exuded unhappy consternation as she turned reluctantly toward the bed again. “She and Daniel Tregarron are lovers, Nicholas. Oh, I know yours is a marriage of convenience, that there is no love, but it is still not something I willingly impart to you. The whole of Langford rattles about them, they have been seen riding together almost every day. They go to Langford Woods.” She paused to allow the implication of this information to have full effect. “Ask anyone. Ask Henderson.” This last was her trump, for Henderson, so faithful and trusted, could only confirm the carefully orchestrated rumors. But she did not expect Nicholas’s reply.

  “Leave me, Augustine.”

  “But—but you wished to speak with me!”

  “No, not anymore. Please leave me for a while.”

  “Do you blame me for telling you?” She had expected his anger, but not somehow quite like this. He was obviously much affected by what he had been told.

  “In God’s name will you go away?” he cried then.

  She flinched a little and hurried out of the room. In the passage she paused. A marriage of convenience it might be, but it meant a little too much to Nicholas for Augustine’s comfort. But it was over now. She had driven the final wedge between husband and wife, for Nicholas was not a man to tolerate his wife’s infidelity, least of all with his best friend.

  Nicholas closed his eyes, and in spite of the warmth of the day, a shiver passed through him. Laura. How pliable and honey sweet her lips had been when he had kissed her the night before the duel. And how that kiss lingered with him even now.

  * * *

  Henderson came as soon as he was sent for. A coal boy was busy stoking up a roaring fire and the windows were tightly closed. Soon the room would be unbearably hot, but Nicholas only felt the cold. The valet saw with dismay that his master no longer looked quite as well, and yet only that morning before breakfast he had seemed to be making excellent progress. The shadows beneath his eyes were once again pronounced and he was oddly restless as he beckoned the valet toward the bed.

  “Come here, Henderson, and I want the truth now.”

  “The truth?” Uneasiness began to spread through the valet.

  “About my wife and Dr. Tregarron.” Nicholas suddenly remembered the coal boy. “Get out of here!” he snapped.

  The boy dropped his shovel and ran out. Henderson glanced in surprise at his master, for it was not like him to be short with a mere child. “Sir Nicholas?”

  “How close are my wife and Daniel Tregarron?”

  “Th-they know each other, how could it be otherwise when until today the doctor was a guest here.”

  “That isn’t what I mean.”

  “I don’t know anything more, Sir Nicholas.”

  “Are they lovers?”

  The valet’s eyes widened. “I don’t know, Sir Nicholas,” he muttered unconvincingly.

  “But you have heard rumors?”

  Miserably Henderson nodded. “I’ve heard them, Sir Nicholas, but I don’t believe them. I don’t think that her ladyship would ever—”

  “You aren’t certain, though, ar
e you?”

  “How can I be, Sir Nicholas? Everyone’s talking about it; it’s the constant topic belowstairs and everywhere else.”

  “Have you ever known there to be so much smoke before without there being a fire to cause it?”

  The valet slowly shook his head. “No.”

  Nicholas looked away. It must be true. What else could he believe? “That is all, Henderson.”

  The valet went to the door, pausing there. “I don’t in my heart believe any of it, Sir Nicholas. Not of her.”

  Nicholas said nothing, and the door closed slowly behind the valet. The new fire crackled in the silence, but Nicholas was aware only of the empty cold that was setting over him. In Venice he had thought he had found the only woman he could ever know true happiness with, but it was quite evident now that she had not felt the same. The marriage was meaningless, for already someone else enjoyed her embraces, someone he had thought he could trust above all others…Daniel Tregarron.

  A burst of glittering sparks spiraled up the chimney. Nicholas closed his eyes. He had come so close to confessing his love to her, so very close that had she remained in the room after telling him of the sale of the jewels, he would have told her. The words had remained unspoken, and now he could salve his shattered pride by pretending he felt nothing for her.

  Dear God, how cold it was. He was conscious of an uncontrollable urge to shiver again. As before.

  Chapter 26

  Daniel was preparing to visit Nicholas at King’s Cliff when his housekeeper came to see him. She entered the clean, white-washed room where he kept his medicines, and she smoothed her hands nervously on her starched apron.

  “Yes, Mrs. Thompson? What is it?”

  She said nothing at first and he turned to look at her. Her plump, country face, usually so ruddy, was a little on the pale side, and he noticed how her tongue passed swiftly over her lips. “Mrs. Thompson?”

  “Sir, I don’t know how to begin….”

  He smiled, closing his leather bag and crossing to gently take her arm and usher her into the room’s only chair. He leaned on the edge of a table, his arms folded. “Now then, what’s all this about?”