“Do not make up stories, Jemima,” Andrew snapped.
“I would never tell tales to you! I am speaking the truth. I swear it upon my life.”
“And now you are simply being dramatic.” Andrew heaved out an exasperated sigh. “I have already agreed to the betrothal, and you will come around to the idea in time. As I have said, once you become a wife, you will feel settled within your position. Isn’t that right, Leonora?”
“Quite right, Darling,” she replied.
“This is absurd,” Jemima muttered. “This is entirely absurd.”
“It is the way of things, Jemima,” Leonora said. “Your father knows what is best for you and, given the current circumstances, the Marquess may well be your only chance at future security. I do so hate to say it, but you have brought this upon yourself. Had you behaved with more decorum, things might have been different. However, as your father has said, the Marquess is likely to be the only gentleman brave enough to offer a proposal.”
“When did independence become a crime, for which I must be punished?” Jemima gaped at them both. “When did my life stop being my own, to do with as I please?”
“Do you hear yourself, Jemima? You have buried your nose in one too many of those foul romance novels. Duty ought to be your sole purpose—duty to the mother and father who have raised you, and given you everything you could ever have wanted,” Andrew replied sourly. “Perhaps, in a way, we are to blame for your willfulness. But, no longer. This must be resolved, Jemima. And marriage is the perfect solution.”
“I cannot listen to this a moment longer!” Jemima scraped back her chair and strode from the room, her hands balled into tight fists.
“Get back here this instant!” Andrew shouted after her, but Leonora reached out and placed her hand upon his forearm.
“Give her a moment to let the news sink in, Darling. She is an obedient girl, deep down in her heart. She just needs some time to think about what you have said, that is all. It will have come as a shock to her.”
“You think I should allow her to speak to me like that, in my own home?” Andrew growled.
Leonora smiled. “I think you should allow her one last breath of that rebelliousness, before she marries the Marquess. She will be well again soon enough, once she sees that we are right about this. You know what she is like, Darling. Just give her time. I have been in her position, and I remember railing at my own father in the way that she has just done. And yet, I found a happiness that I could never have expected. So will she.”
Andrew frowned. “She had better come around to the idea. Otherwise, I shall have to take matters into my own hands. And she will like that far less, I guarantee it.”
Chapter 4
Jemima paced the rose gardens at the back of the house, swiping at the dried-up blooms of autumn. Her body bristled with absolute rage, a lump thick in her throat. She had never known anger like it, nor had she thought herself capable of such ire.
How could they arrange a marriage for me, behind my back? How could they do this to me? How could they possibly think that this will lead to my happiness?
Her lungs burned as she dragged in sharp breaths, thinking of the obnoxious voice of Lord Beaurgant. Of all the gentlemen, in all the world, why had they settled on that weasel? She could not fathom it. How had he ingratiated himself into her father’s trust?
Although she and her father did not always see eye to eye, she had thought him more perceptive than that. Normally, he did not suffer fools, and had an excellent gauge of people he met. It seemed as though that gauge had suddenly become broken, when faced with the prospect of a spinster daughter.
She knew that she had been somewhat unruly of late, and had overstepped the mark by attending some literary meetings and being a little too vocal about matters that were important to her, but she could not believe that he would punish her for it. And punish her with a husband she would surely detest, of all things.
What does he think this will resolve?
To her mind, it could only lead to further trouble. Lord Beaurgant was only interested in the thrill of the chase, and in gaining what he wanted. She knew gentlemen like him. She knew of their intentions. The moment he had everything he desired, he would become cruel, and would reveal his true nature. The one that her father seemed to be blind to. She had heard enough sad tales at soirees to understand the trials of an arranged marriage.
I will not become a cautionary tale. I refuse.
And yet, she could not think of a way to get out of this web that had been formed around her. She was the wrapped-up fly in the center, awaiting the spider who would devour her whole. The more she struggled, the more stuck she would become. She knew that much.
Her father was a gentleman of his word—if she tried to defy him, he would only make things more difficult for her. Indeed, he would go to the lengths of marching her down the aisle himself, by force, if he had to. When he had a notion fixed in his mind, there was nothing to be done to shift it. He had always been stubborn. Her mother always said that was where Jemima got her stubborn streak from, but it no longer felt like an attribute she wished to share with him.
How can I escape this?
She looked up towards the bright, autumn sunlight with tears in her eyes. She did not know how she had ended up in this situation. Surely, her mother and father ought to have some concern for her feelings in the matter? Only, that did not seem to be the case. They saw only the benefits it would provide them, with no thought for her.
What of love? Am I never to have it?
All her life, it had been all she could think about. She had hoped to be fortunate enough to find a husband she adored, who respected her and admired her somewhat rebellious thoughts. With that unknown gentleman, she knew she would be blissfully happy for the rest of her days. Now, that was to be stolen from her, without her consent.
“What a pleasant surprise.” A voice made her freeze. She turned very slowly, to find Lord Beaurgant standing by the wall of the rose garden, a smug smile upon his face. She had not even seen him approach the house, nor heard the telltale beat of hooves upon the drive to announce a visitor. She realized he must have come through the woods. He was as sneaky in his actions as he was in his manner.
“You should not be here,” she said coldly.
“Whyever not? You are to be my wife. I am sure we might be forgiven an outing in the garden together, unchaperoned.”
“You are mistaken,” she replied.
“About which part?” He chuckled, his eyes fixed hungrily upon her.
You see, he thinks of me only as prey. He does not really care for me, nor would I alter my thoughts, even if he did. This man will not be my husband. I will not allow it.
She had put too many of her hopes and dreams into the prospect of love, to simply throw all of that away for the sake of keeping her mother and father happy. Duty only went so far, and respect had to go both ways. They had not respected her, and so she felt no inclination to reciprocate.
“That you and I can walk alone and not be chaperoned, and that I do not think that you and I will ever be wed,” she said firmly.
A momentary bemusement passed across Lord Beaurgant’s face. “But I had it on your father’s assurance that the betrothal would be made official today. Has he not informed you of our plans?”
“Yours and my father’s, or mine and yours? You see, I do not believe that you and I have ever made any plans. Not that I can recall.” She held her ground. “And I would hate to think that you had been deceptive and gone to my father before speaking with me about something as important as marriage.”
She sensed that he did not know what to say, for the arrogant façade appeared to have slipped from his features. He looked puzzled and annoyed, his brow furrowed.
“Are you lost for words, Lord Beaurgant? You had plenty to say last night, or so it would seem.”
A smirk crept back onto his lips. “So, your father has informed you of our betrothal?”
“So, you
have been deceptive?”
“Touché.”
“If you have misunderstood me, Lord Beaurgant, I am sorry for that. If I showed you any undue affection, I am also sorry for that. It was not my intention. And I apologize that your proposal has been misplaced, for you and I will not be married.”
“That is not what your father seems to think,” Lord Beaurgant replied.
“He does not know what he thinks.”
“He seemed very certain of our betrothal last night, and I received word this morning that he was to tell you of it. Not only that, but I have it on good authority that he has already arranged for the banns to be announced and the betrothal to be published. It would seem that you are the one who is mistaken, in this current arrangement.” He smiled. “You and I will be wed.”
Jemima’s heart pounded in her chest. “You would have an unwilling bride?”
“You would not be unwilling forever, I assure you.”
“How dare you speak to me so uncouthly,” Jemima snapped, her words dripping venom. “How dare you go against my wishes and speak with my father, without my consent. How dare you think yourself above my own feelings.”
He laughed coldly. “I know what young ladies are like, Lady Jemima. I know how free-spirited you can be, and I admire that in you. But we cannot all do as we please in this life. We all have duties to obey, and responsibilities to consider. Mine is to find a suitable bride, and yours is to find a suitable husband. How fortunate that we have found one another with such ease.”
“You are despicable.”
“Now, now, let us not resort to name-calling.” He took a step forward. “You will come to realize that I am the best you can hope for. You have forged quite the reputation for yourself, and I do not see any other suitors asking for your hand in marriage. Fear not, I will treat you well, and I will honor you as my vows command. And you will do the same, in time.”
Jemima shook her head. “I will do no such thing. Now, I suggest you leave before I call my father out, to see what sort of wretch he plans to make me marry. If he saw you here, trying to speak with me alone, he would know that you are dishonorable.”
Lord Beaurgant visibly jolted. “Fortunately for you, I was just about to go in to speak with your father. I will not tell him how curt you have been, for I would hate for him to think badly of you.” His features relaxed. “Although, I must assure you that your behavior will not dissuade me. I rather like your tenacity. I look forward to experiencing more of it, when you stand at my side, as my wife.”
He turned without another word and strode through the gardens towards the house, leaving Jemima in a state of abject horror and disgust. He had been troublesome enough at last night’s ball, but this was beyond anything she had ever expected. The gentleman had no regard for her, whatsoever. He saw her as a prize, not a person. And if she did not think fast, she knew she would end up bound to him for the rest of her life.
But how am I to evade this?
She turned at the sound of trees being cut in the distance, her eyes peering through the morning mist at the workers who were trimming the branches of the forest ahead. One paused to wipe his brow, removing his flat cap to brush the perspiration away with his forearm. He was a young man, dressed in a burgundy flannel shirt and woolen trousers. He could not have been much older than herself, though he was broader and taller.
Still, she had seen plenty of young men in the nearby town who were of a much slimmer build and shorter in stature. Besides, she was tall for her sex, which she hoped might work in her favor.
A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips as a plan began to form in her mind. It will be an enormous risk, but if I wish to escape this betrothal, it is my only choice.
Now, all she needed to do was decipher the finer details and find the nerve to execute such a plan of escape. She would only have one chance to make it happen, and if she failed…she would be destined for a future as a prisoner of Lord Beaurgant. And she did not care to think about what he might have in store for her.
Chapter 5
Simon stood in the empty entrance hall of Burhill Towers, feeling the weight of the house’s penetrating silence.
As he was not often home, he did not keep a wealth of staff. Instead, he had only his steward, Asher, and a handful of servants to keep the place in order. He could hear a faint clang and clatter coming from the kitchens down the hallway, where the cook was preparing the evening meal. A meal that he would eat alone.
Every time he returned here, the emptiness became more apparent. It no longer felt like home to him, making him restless to return to the Evening Star and the adventures that he enjoyed upon the vessel. All his memories of this place seemed to belong to someone else, now. He found no peace in being here, for it only served as a reminder of the choices he had made—the decisions that would undoubtedly see him remain a bachelor.
He would not have given up his time on the Evening Star for anything, but being here did force him to hold a mirror up to himself and assess his future. He could feel the presence of his parents, both deceased, more keenly when he stood within these walls. He wondered what they would think of him, and the path he had chosen to walk upon. If he closed his eyes and pictured it, he could almost hear the arguments ricocheting off the walls.
“Were you looking for something, My Lord?” Asher appeared in the doorway of the right-hand corridor. He was a young man of equal age to Simon, with an unruly mane of red hair and piercing blue eyes. Freckles dotted his pale complexion, giving a flavor of his Irish heritage. Simon trusted this man more than anyone, with the exception of Captain McMorrow.
“No, I was just…I am not sure what I was doing,” Simon admitted.
“It must be strange to be home, after so long at sea?”
Simon nodded. “Very strange indeed. I am not yet used to solid ground.”
“Will you stay awhile longer, this time?”
“Alas, not. I leave this evening, and sail on the dawn tide.”
Asher smiled sadly. “That is a shame, My Lord. You are missed when you are not here.”
“Has there been any trouble with the estate and its tenants?”
“Not at all, My Lord. Everything is in order, as you have dictated. I make sure that all the rents are paid, and all the taxes are collected, whilst ensuring that the people are happy. It is exactly as you planned it, before you left that first time.”
Simon smiled. “I could not have done it without you, Asher.”
“I am happy to be in your service, My Lord. You have always been kind to me, and you have given myself and my family a life that we could never have hoped for, in your father’s time.”
“Do you think I ought to stay longer?” It was something that had been troubling Simon, ever since he had made his way back from the harbor to check on his estate.
“I think you ought to do whatever makes you content, My Lord. Life is bitterly short, and from the tales you tell of your travels, I am almost envious of your position. There are things that I should like to see, that I know I will never have the opportunity to see. We must all live vicariously through you, for you are the only one brave enough to take such leaps of faith.” He chuckled softly, which brought some relief to Simon.
“I suppose I am fortunate, in that regard.”
“Are you having second thoughts?”
Simon shook his head. “Being here simply reminds me of family, and of my own duties towards the future of this dynasty. I am the sole heir to my father’s estate, after all.” He paused, feeling that familiar tug of responsibility. “One of these days, I will have to remain here for good. I will have to settle and find a wife, I suppose.”
“You are young yet, My Lord. There will be plenty of opportunity for such things, once you are satisfied with your adventures at sea.”
“And if I am never satisfied?”
Asher dipped his head. “I feel I am ill-qualified to speak on such matters.”
“I did not mean to make you uncomfortable,
Asher.”
“You have not, My Lord. I only hope that, one day, you find a young lady who makes you desire to stay here. If I may be honest, I believe that will be the only thing that can entice you to remain on dry land, without feeling resentment for the adventures you have given up.”
Simon laughed. “See, this is why I chose you for the job of steward. You are honest and you are fair, and you are wise beyond your years. I only wish I had a fraction of that insight.” He glanced at Asher. “Did you find such a lady? I hope you will not mind me saying, but you always seem remarkably happy with Evangeline, whenever I see you together.”
Asher sighed. “She is an angel amongst ladies, My Lord. I have been fortunate, indeed, to find a wife who matches me in all things. And challenges me in a great many others.”
A Ravishing Night With The Mysterious Earl (Steamy Historical Regency) Page 3
