The Makeshift Marriage

by Sandra Heath

  “You know that I wish you to be with me.”

  The agent gazed at his cognac for a moment. “Sir Nicholas, I think that one good thing at least must come out of this, and that is that you are forced at last to see the light about a certain lady whose name I choke to utter after what I have recently learned.”

  “My dear Charles, do you not realize that I have long since seen that particular light? I first saw it in Venice.”

  “Then do something about it!”

  “It is too late, as I said before. Too much has been said and done.”

  “Surely—”

  “I think it best left. It was never meant to succeed.”

  “I believe in fate. Fate decreed that you should live and fate has given you this chance now, but fate cannot anticipate the outcome, for that is in your hands.”

  “Not only mine,” reminded Nicholas softly, “not only mine.”

  The agent declined to press further. He finished his glass and rose to his weary feet. “If we are to leave early, I had best return to my bed—”

  “You must rest here tonight, Charles. I will not hear anything to the contrary. I think you could do without the final short journey to the farm, don’t you?”

  Charles Dodswell smiled. “I am too weary to do anything but accept your kind offer.”

  A little later Nicholas was alone in the library. He poured himself a little more cognac and then went to the windows, flinging them open to let the cool night air in. From the marsh, hidden from the house, came the sound of fiddles playing and bursts of laughter as some of the laborers who had accompanied Mr. McDonald and his assistants made merry prior to the hard work of the following morning. Through the trees Nicholas could see the faint flicker of their campfire on one of the causeways stretching out across King’s Cliff Moor. The night was very still, the leaves hung motionless on the trees, and not a flower stirred.

  He stared across the dark grounds, but it was a sunny morning in Venice that he saw, and the balcony of the Hotel Contarini. And Laura, forgetful of propriety as she stood there in her nightgown, her dark hair tumbling over her shoulders and her eyes shining with the sheer joy of being there.

  Chapter 37

  The following morning Laura was awoken when Kitty came to her, bringing the long-awaited letter from Lady Mountfort. Kitty bit her lip as she watched her mistress sit up in the immense bed, breaking the seal on the letter and unfolding it. Lady Mountfort was in a crusty mood, complaining that Laura lacked manners by not arriving at the appointed time and by not having had the decency to write sooner, but although the letter complained, in the end it conveyed to Laura that the position was indeed still open. Nothing was said of Laura’s title or the interesting address where she could be reached, but she knew that Lady Mountfort could only be all agog to know the details.

  Laura looked at Kitty. “I have somewhere to go, Kitty.”

  “Please don’t leave King’s Cliff, my lady.”

  “I must, for there is no place for me here.”

  “But you love Sir Nicholas—”

  “A one-sided love.”

  The maid lowered her eyes. “My lady…. I have another letter for you.” She held out another folded, sealed paper. “It’s from Dr. Tregarron.”

  “He gave it to you?”

  “Yes, my lady. I wouldn’t have taken it, but he said it was very urgent.”

  “And he can twist you around his little finger, can’t he?” said Laura with a smile.

  Kitty flushed.

  Laura broke the seal and read.

  My dearest love,

  I must see you, for my plans have had to be brought forward and I must now leave within a few days. If you have any affection for me, any gentleness toward me as a friend, then I beg you to come where you know I will be waiting this afternoon.

  Daniel

  Well, how could it be wrong to see him, for by then Nicholas would know that she intended to leave anyway. Nicholas. Thinking of him brought her back to what she must now do.

  “Kitty, I must dress quickly, for I wish to see Sir Nicholas before breakfast.”

  “Oh, but you can’t, my lady, he’s not here.”

  “Not here?”

  “He set off very early this morning in his carriage with Mr. Dodswell. I think they are expected to return either tonight or tomorrow, but I don’t know for sure.”

  Laura’s heart sank. The moment had come at last; she had screwed herself up to the necessary pitch—and now he had gone away and she could not see him. She must endure for at least another day. For a moment she contemplated leaving anyway, for what good would it serve to face him again? But almost immediately she discarded the notion, for she at least owed him an explanation of her decision. He was, after all, still her husband.

  She had no intention of taking her breakfast with Augustine and her mother, and so ordered some coffee and toasted bread brought to her room. She was sitting in her favorite place, the window ledge, gazing over the park, when she heard the light steps and rustle of silk she had come to know only too well and to loathe greatly.

  Augustine halted, glancing critically around the room, which was so much less grand than her own. “Good morning, my lady.”

  “Good morning.”

  “I trust you slept well.”

  Laura gave a thin smile. “How kind of you to be concerned.”

  “I also trust that you enjoyed yesterday evening.”

  “You quite obviously did.”

  “Admit defeat, my lady.” The primrose silk rustled again as she came a little closer. “Have you no pride at all? I vow I would not humble myself so pathetically.”

  “No?” Laura stood, shaking out her white muslin skirts. “You surprise me, for that is exactly what I was under the impression you have been doing, Miss Townsend.”

  “What can you possibly mean?”

  “Oh, come now, I think we both know, so let us not pretend to wear kid gloves at this late stage of the game. You are soiled goods, Miss Townsend, for you have humbled yourself in the Earl of Langford’s cheerless bed. Even a shabby, brazen little Nine Elms whore would think herself a lady compared with you.”

  Augustine blanched, taken completely by surprise.

  Laura laughed. “Did you honestly think your sordid secret would remain undiscovered?”

  “How dare you speak to me like this,” breathed Augustine, shaking a little.

  “I dare because I no longer care two pence about you. As you say, Nicholas has made his choice quite obvious, and you waste your time coming here to taunt me. Your malice is water off the proverbial duck’s back. I wish he was less blind where you are concerned, but I fear that that must be his misfortune, for there is obviously nothing I can do about it. He deserves better than you, and I would tell him the truth about you if I thought it would do any good. He is everything to me, everything in the world, but I must relinquish him to a malevolent chienne like you.”

  Augustine recovered a little. Laura was not going to tell Nicholas…. “You really do love him, don’t you,” she asked at last, intent upon driving the final nail into Laura’s coffin. “You love him, but he despises you.”

  “Please go.”

  “He despises you and adores me. How very galling for you!”

  “I asked you quite politely if you would go. Now I am telling you to get out of this room.”

  “With pleasure.” Augustine turned and went out, leaving the door wide open so that Laura could hear her steps fading away along the passage.

  * * *

  To Laura’s immense relief, Augustine and her mother drove to see the Countess of Bawton after luncheon, so there was no one to see her ride to meet Daniel in Langford Woods. She had no qualms about defying Nicholas, for it simply did not matter anymore. She had made her decision and was set upon her course, and that course did not touch upon either Nicholas Grenville or Daniel Tregarron. It was Laura Milbanke’s course, and hers alone.

  Daniel was waiting in the clearing and he smile
d as she rode toward him. “I knew that you would come,” he said, seizing the reins.

  “Your letter made it hard for me to refuse.”

  He reached up to help her dismount, and his hands remained on her waist, drawing her close, kissing her, but she drew away. “No, Daniel.”

  “But you have come to me—”

  “I came because you asked me most urgently,” she reminded him. “And I came to tell you that I am leaving Nicholas and going back to the life I should never have left in the first place.”

  He stared at her. “You’re doing that? You’re choosing a dreadful future as a lady’s companion when you could come with me as my wife? I don’t believe that you can be serious, Laura.”

  “I am very serious, Daniel. I have said all I can say to you, including that in the end it would not work and you would be made very unhappy. It is best if I just step out of your life as swiftly as I entered it.”

  “No,” he whispered, “No, I will not let you go away like this—”

  “I have decided.”

  He saw that determination he knew so well, for it was the brave face on her heartbreak. He felt foolishly close to tears suddenly as he put his hand to her cheek. “I love you, Laura,” he said softly, “and I want to look after you—is that so very wrong? Is it truly so cursed and doomed to misery? I beseech you to think again. Promise me that you will think again.”

  “Daniel—”

  “Promise me, my love. I will not ask you to see me again, just that the day after tomorrow, no later than that, you send word to me of your final decision. I will abide by whatever you decide then, I promise you that I will.”

  She stretched up to kiss him gently on the lips. “Oh, Daniel,” she said softly, “my poor Daniel. I know that my decision will not change. But I give you my word that I will think about it and weigh everything carefully.”

  “If you do that,” he said, touching her face gently, “then I know that you will see that you must be mine.”

  The day turned cloudy as she rode back to King’s Cliff, and it was raining heavily by the time she reached the house. The rain fell for the rest of the day, and at nightfall a bedraggled rider came from the Countess of Bawton to announce that Augustine and her mother would remain there overnight.

  True to her word to Daniel, Laura did indeed think very hard about what she must do. He was so very persuasive, so convinced that he was right and that his love would prevail, that he made her doubt her plan to go to Lady Mountfort. Had it not been for the passionate love she had for Nicholas, she knew that she could have mistaken her feeling for Daniel as being true love, but that was not the case. She found him attractive and good company, but he had not engaged her innermost heart. Only Nicholas had done that.

  She spent a very restless, sleepless night, going over and over in her mind the options that were open to her—going to Lady Mountfort, or casting her lot with Daniel. It was almost dawn before she fell asleep, her decision made. The past months must be wiped out completely. Laura, Lady Grenville, had never been; there was only Laura Milbanke, about to become companion to Lady Mountfort….

  Chapter 38

  Rain was still falling the next morning, but after breakfast it became little more than a blustery drizzle and so Laura went for a walk. Her hood was raised over her head and her cloak flapped around her as she went past the silent, deserted kennels and down the hedged path to the copse on the edge of the escarpment. The wind moaned through the trees and the smell of damp moss and earth pricked her nostrils as she at last emerged from the small wood to gaze across the spectacle of Sedgemoor.

  Gangs of men moved everywhere and she could hear the noise of their work, hammering and chanting in unison as they worked. Wisps of smoke from campfires were torn by the wind; gone forever was the peaceful serenity this place had once held.

  For a long time she stood there just watching, and then at last the rain began to fall heavily again and she retraced her steps. As she came within sight of the house she saw that Nicholas and Mr. Dodswell had returned, for the carriage was still by the portico steps. She saw them on the steps, Mr. Dodswell obviously taking his leave to continue to the farm. Nicholas looked very tired; his face seemed almost gray and he had for the first time discarded the light sling. He flexed his wounded arm as he spoke to the agent, and then Mr. Dodswell returned to the carriage and it drew away, passing Laura as she returned to the house.

  Nicholas was in the library. He had poured himself a cognac but it was untouched. He leaned his head back against the chair, his eyes closed, but he heard Laura as soon as she entered.

  “Nicholas?”

  “Laura.”

  “I must speak with you.”

  He opened his eyes. “What about?”

  “Our marriage.”

  Not now, please not now…. “I still do not wish to speak of it,” he said curtly.

  “I am afraid that you have no choice now, Nicholas, for I am leaving.”

  Slowly he stood. “No, Laura, I will never release you from those vows you made in Venice. You are my wife and I intend that you shall remain so.”

  She stared at him. “But why? Why?”

  “Because that is how I wish it to be. You are Lady Grenville of King’s Cliff and you will damned well stay in this house!”

  “Remain here to be treated with contempt? To watch while you pay court to Augustine Townsend and humiliate me? Never!”

  “You are my wife,” he repeated.

  “In name only!” she cried.

  His eyes were dark. “Oh, believe me, Laura,” he said softly, “I am quite prepared to rectify that state of affairs. Quite prepared.”

  “You would not—”

  “I am your husband, Laura, and your body is mine.” Suddenly he turned, dashing his glass into the empty grate. Fragments of crystal shivered over the smoke-blackened stone. “Damn you, Laura, I will not let you go! Do you hear me? I have done parting with what belongs to me, from now on I will keep what is rightfully mine—and that includes you.”

  She was shaken by the barely held fury of his outburst. “Nicholas?” She could only whisper his name in bewilderment.

  He closed his eyes, passing a weary hand across his forehead before turning back to her, and for the first time she noticed how strained and tense he was. When he spoke, however, his voice was more rational. “Forgive me, Laura, but I have a great deal on my mind again, and as you know so well, I am not renowned for my courtesy at such times. I promise you that I will speak to you about—about our marriage. But not now, I beg of you. Later today, maybe.”

  “What’s wrong, Nicholas? Is it the estate?”

  “No, it isn’t King’s Cliff.”

  “What then?”

  “You will learn it all soon enough, but at the moment I am too weary, too damned drained, to talk clearly about it.”

  “Is there anything I can do?”

  “Oh, yes,” he said drily. “You can make this most difficult of days for me go a little more easily by desisting from this talk of leaving, which presumably will eventually entail an annulment, until I have spoken to you again.” He looked at her for a long moment. “Did you see Daniel Tregarron during my absence?”

  She did not flinch from his gaze. “Yes.”

  “At least you are honest about it.”

  “Nicholas, I have never been dishonest about anything.”

  “No, perhaps not. Ours is, after all, a marriage of convenience, is it not? Or maybe it should be termed a marriage of inconvenience; there are no doubt erudite arguments in favor of both descriptions of the same empty contract.” He turned away again.

  She said nothing more and it wasn’t until she had returned to her own room that she realized she had not told him she was going to Lady Mountfort. She had said nothing at all beyond the fact that she was leaving King’s Cliff.

  Five minutes later Nicholas emerged from the library, calling for Hawkins as he descended the staircase.

  “Yes, Sir Nicholas?”

>   “Have my curricle brought around immediately.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Has any further word been received from Miss Townsend?”

  “No, Sir Nicholas. She and Mrs. Townsend must have decided to spend today with the Countess of Bawton.”

  “Are my orders being carried out?”

  The butler faltered. “Y—yes, Sir Nicholas, but—”

  “Hawkins, everything is to be done as I commanded the moment I returned. I want those rooms cleared and packed as quickly as possible.”

  “Yes, Sir Nicholas.”

  “Well, jump to it, man, I don’t wish to dally here all day!”

  The unfortunate butler began to hurry away, but then halted again. “Sir Nicholas, if Miss Townsend should return, where can you be found?”

  “Dr. Tregarron’s house.”

  Hawkins’s eyes widened and then he hurried on to see about the curricle.

  * * *

  Mrs. Thompson could not hide her nervousness as she asked Nicholas to step inside. The hall was filled with baggage and trunks, and two footmen were carrying another heavy trunk down the staircase as the housekeeper fled up to find Daniel.

  Daniel was putting the phials in a traveling box as she showed Nicholas in a little later, and he did not bother to turn around when the door had closed behind her again. “And what brings you here, Nicholas? Do you require a salve for your bruised pride?”

  “You will require a wooden casket if you step near my wife again.”

  Daniel turned at last. “Do you threaten me?”

  “I warn you.”

  “And why should I pay heed?”

  “You would be advised to. I may owe you my life, Daniel, but I will still deprive you of yours if you see Laura again.”

  “If ever there was a dog sitting tight in its manger, it is you, Nicholas Grenville. You want that damned bitch Augustine Townsend, and you want to keep Laura as well. Why? Because your pride will not stand the shame of her leaving you? You don’t want her, but I do. I love her and I know that she loves me.”