The Brooding Earl's Proposition

by Laura Martin

  It was November, an overcast and grey day and now a cloudy and cold night, hardly pleasant in anyone’s estimation, but Selina knew she would be safer outside. Safer from her own weaknesses.

  He looked at her curiously for a moment and then agreed. ‘I shall fetch my coat. No point in waking the servants to get it.’

  Selina watched as he walked from the room. Already she could feel a nervous fluttering in her stomach.

  ‘Courage,’ she murmured to herself, then turned and followed him out to the hall, picking up her cloak from the little alcove tucked away next to the door.

  ‘Shall we go out the back?’ he asked, brandishing a set of keys he must have taken from one of the hooks downstairs.

  Selina followed him out through the library to the glass doors at the back that opened out on to the terrace. He unlocked the door, allowing her to slip through ahead of him, before turning to lock it again.

  It was dark outside, with the clouds covering the moon and the stars, and for a moment Selina couldn’t see more than a couple of feet in front of her. The house behind them provided no illumination, but slowly her eyes began to adjust to the darkness and she could make out the familiar shapes of statues dotted along the terrace and the bushes in the garden beyond.

  Lord Westcroft offered her his arm, waiting for her to tuck her hand into his elbow before starting off at a sedate pace towards the stone steps that led down into the formal garden. They kept to the path, winding their way among the flowerbeds, avoiding the worst of the mud.

  ‘How are you?’ He spoke quietly, waiting until they were well enough away from the house so as not to disturb anyone inside.

  ‘I feel drained,’ she said after a moment. ‘Worn. Worried.’

  ‘About Priscilla?’

  She nodded.

  ‘You feel things keenly, don’t you?’

  ‘I do.’ She sighed and glanced up at the man beside her. She thought he felt things keenly, too, but was a little better at hiding it.

  They walked on in silence for a few more minutes, neither wanting to be the first to broach the subject of Whitby.

  ‘I’ve been thinking,’ Lord Westcroft said eventually, ‘about your brother. And your father. I don’t believe it.’

  Selina stopped walking in surprise. ‘You don’t believe me?’

  ‘I believe you. Of course I believe you. I don’t believe what your brother told you. I want to see this will. I want to question this solicitor. Even if you are illegitimate, I don’t see why a devoted father in life would provide nothing for you after death.’

  Selina had questioned the same thing over and over again. Her father had seemed to love her very much, he’d doted on her, given her much praise and attention, but then again he’d loved her mother and still not given her the protection of marriage.

  ‘It doesn’t make sense,’ he continued. ‘I understand the title and estate would have to pass to your brother, but not the money, not your possessions. A very generous allowance could have been bequeathed, something to set you up for life.’

  ‘Perhaps he didn’t care,’ Selina said softly. That hurt most of all, the idea he might not have loved her the way she thought he had.

  ‘You know if a person cares or not.’

  Selina squeezed her eyes shut and remembered the indulgent smile on her father’s face as he patiently taught her Latin and the look of pride as Selina had won a debate over the dinner table against two Cambridge dons. She remembered his quiet indulgence as he’d helped her make her debut into society, delayed a year by her mother’s death, and the tears they had shed together for the woman they had both loved.

  ‘He did love me,’ she said quietly.

  ‘Then he would have provided for you.’

  Selina felt a spark of hope. When her father had died and her brother appeared with the solicitor she’d been overcome by grief. She’d accepted what had been said, accepted the word of the solicitor, but she had never actually seen the will.

  ‘Could he have really orchestrated a solicitor to deceive me out of my inheritance?’

  ‘I don’t know the man, but surely it would be possible. Money exchanged, bribes passed. You were a young woman alone without much knowledge of the world with no relatives to look out for you. Who was going to protest when he manoeuvred you out of the way?’

  Selina felt the beginnings of anger start to course through her body. It wouldn’t be out of character for her brother. She knew he could be cruel and vindictive, but this was beyond anything she could have imagined.

  ‘It should be simple enough to find out. To trace the solicitor who was involved, talk to whoever drew up and witnessed the will. Would you like me to make some enquiries?’

  Selina’s thoughts were still whirring round the possibilities. She’d been grief-stricken, in a daze for so long after her father’s death, that only now did she feel as though she could start questioning the events that went on around it.

  ‘Yes,’ she said decisively, now determined to understand the truth in all of this. ‘Please do.’

  ‘Although I’m loath to discover anything that might mean we lose you,’ he said quietly.

  We lose you, not just him. It was a stark reminder that she was most valuable to him as governess to the girls.

  ‘If there is anything to discover, it will take years to unravel,’ she said with a sad smile. ‘I don’t think there’s any chance of me running off anywhere any time soon.’

  ‘Good.’

  They had reached the edge of the formal gardens and Selina had been about to suggest they turn back when Lord Westcroft stopped and led her over to a little stone bench situated to look out over the parkland and the moors beyond. The view, stunning in the daytime, was nothing more than a series of dark shapes rolling out in front of them, but as always when Selina looked out over the moors she felt a sense of vastness, a realisation of how small she was in the world, how alone.

  ‘Whitby,’ Lord Westcroft said decisively. ‘We need to discuss what happened.’

  ‘Must we?’ She knew that was the whole point of this stroll into the night, but she dreaded having to confront her feelings, especially when she wasn’t quite sure herself what they were.

  ‘I wish to make a proposition.’

  ‘Lord Westcroft...’ she said, knowing it wouldn’t be a proposal she could accept and not wanting to strain things between them further.

  ‘Matthew,’ he corrected her.

  ‘I can’t call you that.’

  ‘It’s my name.’

  ‘It’s too familiar.’

  ‘Don’t you think we have reached the stage of familiarity?’

  She remembered the kisses, the shameless way she’d allowed her nightdress to fall from her shoulders and his lips to dart over her skin.

  ‘I think of you as Selina,’ he continued. ‘Always Selina.’

  ‘I can’t.’

  ‘Go on, say it just once. Once and I’ll be happy.’

  She hesitated again and then closed her eyes, ‘Matthew,’ she said.

  ‘Once wasn’t so hard, was it?’

  She looked at him, knowing that now his name had crossed her lips it would be easy for it to do so again. No doubt what he had planned all along.

  ‘I cannot stop thinking of that night in Whitby,’ he said, his voice low.

  ‘Nor I.’ The admission slipped out before Selina could stop it. That night had plagued her thoughts from the moment she woke until she went to bed at night and then she dreamed endlessly of what could be between them. She’d had no respite, waking or asleep, until her body was tight with desire and her mind begging for one more moment of indiscretion.

  ‘Good.’ Even in the darkness Selina knew he was smiling. ‘I know your views on affairs, liaisons, whatever you wish to call them. I know how your father’s treatment of your mother has coloured your
view on passion outside marriage.’

  ‘You make my views sound strange, but not many women of any class think an affair is acceptable.’

  ‘You’d be surprised,’ Lord Westcroft murmured. ‘I understand your reluctance to enter into anything, your need to deny what we both want.’

  Selina didn’t bother protesting. It was what they both wanted, but you couldn’t always be ruled by desire, common sense had to prevail, especially for a woman on her own in the world.

  ‘I understand you fear losing your position and your reputation, you fear not having the means to provide for yourself. My proposition would solve that.’

  Selina felt a surge of hope. He had never hinted at wanting to settle down before, but maybe...

  ‘I would give you a property, settle on you a sum of money that would see you spend your days in comfort if you were to move on from the position of governess here. I hope you would still wish to teach the girls, but if you ever felt that our relationship was too strained, then you could move on without any repercussions.’ He paused, looking at her intently as if trying to gauge her reaction. ‘And we could have the relationship we both desire.’

  ‘I would be your mistress?’ Selina asked, her voice emotionless.

  ‘Mistress, lover, whatever you want to call it.’ He gripped her hand in his own. ‘The important thing is we would be able to be together. To enjoy one another.’

  ‘And when you got fed up of me...?’

  ‘That wouldn’t happen, but if we did decide to go our separate ways you would have a secure future.’

  Selina tried to suppress the anger that was coursing through her. Perhaps he didn’t understand what he was asking of her, perhaps he didn’t realise quite how much he was asking her to give up.

  ‘So there would be an exchange of goods for...’ she closed her eyes as she struggled to find the right word ‘...intimacy. I would be your whore.’

  ‘No. Never.’

  Selina rounded on him, ‘That is exactly what you are proposing.’

  ‘I merely want to remove the obstacles to us being together.’

  ‘I was raised the daughter of a viscount,’ she said, her voice sharp and cultured and filled with the cold clipped tones of the aristocracy. ‘I was taught from a very young age that a woman’s most precious possession is her reputation. It is how we are judged, how our worth is decided.’ She stood, taking a few steps away from the bench so he wouldn’t see the glistening of the tears on her cheeks. ‘I may have found myself in much altered circumstances, but I’m still the same person, with the same values.’

  She felt Matthew’s presence behind her, the soft touch of his hands on her arms. Gently, slowly, he pressed her to turn and face him.

  ‘You’re crying,’ he said, reaching up with his thumb to wipe away the tears on her cheeks.

  Selina closed her eyes, trying to conquer the feelings of disappointment and sadness raging inside her. When she’d heard the word proposition she’d felt an undeniable surge of hope. Hope that the man she was realising she cared for deeply felt the same way about her. Hope that he might be about to suggest settling down together, marriage. It seemed ludicrous now, given the solution he had put forward, but it had been her hope all the same.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said quietly, his eyes seeking out hers in the darkness. ‘I never wanted to upset you.’

  ‘I think we’re just not compatible,’ Selina said, the anger quickly seeping out of her. It was unfair to be annoyed with him, he’d never promised her anything, never hinted that he might want something more than a passionate affair, short lived and sweet, but with a very definite end date.

  ‘I don’t know if I can let you go,’ he murmured into her hair as she sank into him.

  ‘We want different things. When I give myself to someone, body and heart, I want it to be for ever,’ she whispered. ‘And you are not ready to settle. It just isn’t meant to be.’

  ‘I can’t settle,’ he said, a note of sadness in his voice. ‘I can’t marry and have someone dependent on me. I can’t be relied on to make the right decisions.’

  Selina frowned. Normally he was so confident, so sure of himself. He was a successful man, and he had travelled all over the world, building his shipping business from nothing, with no support from his family.

  ‘Of course you can,’ she said.

  He looked at her, a sad smile on his face. ‘No, I can’t. Not when it comes to other people’s welfare.’

  ‘Did something happen to you?’

  ‘Nothing you want to know about.’

  She took his hand, knowing the gesture was too intimate given the limits she’d just imposed on their relationship.

  ‘You’ve helped me these last weeks. Helped me to realise what happened after my father’s death wasn’t right, that I at least need to think about fighting it. I know a governess isn’t the usual confidante for an earl, but let me help you.’

  Matthew looked at her for a long moment, his eyes searching her face in the darkness. He was holding something back, keeping it bottled inside, and Selina realised this was what had sparked his reluctance to build a bond with the girls initially, this was what kept pushing him to run away back to India.

  The cold was seeping through her cloak and she shivered as she waited for his answer.

  ‘Let’s go back inside,’ he said. ‘You’re cold.’

  ‘And then you’ll tell me?’

  He remained silent, gripping her hand in his as they hurried back towards the house.

  * * *

  ‘I’ve told you a little about my childhood,’ he said, adding a few more logs to the fire from the basket that sat beside it. They were in the library, his favourite room of the house, and he had spent a few minutes lighting and building the fire to warm them after their walk in the cold November night. ‘It was far from happy, especially after my mother died. My father disliked me, his interest was only in Henry as the heir. He was cruel and he liked to pit me and my brother against each other.’

  ‘I can’t imagine a childhood like that,’ Selina said softly. Matthew couldn’t imagine the childhood she’d described, surrounded by love and kindness.

  ‘As second son I was little use to my father, but soon after I turned eighteen he made a series of bad investments. The estate was falling into ruin and he needed money for its upkeep. He came up with the plan to marry me off to some young woman with a large dowry.’

  Matthew had been aghast when he’d first heard the proposition. He was eighteen, just about to go to university, with his whole life ahead of him. The last thing he’d wanted was a wife.

  ‘I was unenthusiastic about the plan, but I think I had always had this desire to please my father, to do something he would be proud of.’

  ‘You agreed?’

  ‘I said I would consider it. My father found a candidate. A young woman named Elizabeth from the next county over. I was told her family were rich and would provide a large dowry with ongoing financial support.’ He grimaced, that had been all the information his father had been interested in.

  ‘Did you meet her?’

  ‘My father was strangely reluctant to let me meet her before the wedding. I pushed and pushed and pushed, telling him I would not go through with it unless I could meet her, to check we were not completely mismatched, before our nuptials.’

  Selina was watching him with wide-eyed horror, reflecting his feelings all those years ago.

  ‘Finally he agreed, but before the meeting he sent my brother in to talk to me. Henry told me that Elizabeth was a sweet girl, pretty in her own way, but that her mind was not the brightest. In some matters she acted younger than her years.’

  Selina’s eyes widened.

  ‘I met with her and she was sweet, although petrified of new people. After the meeting I refused to marry her. I didn’t think it would be fair on either of us
. She was vulnerable, in need of looking after, childlike in her manner. In my mind she needed a companion, not a husband, someone who would be gentle and patient with her.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘My father raged and raged, telling me I was disobedient, I was a disgrace. He threatened to cut me off, threatened not to let me near the family home or my brother ever again.’ Matthew shook his head. It had been heartbreaking, having it proved once and for all how little his opinion, his feelings mattered to his father. ‘Then Henry came and took me to a meeting with Elizabeth’s father and my own. They told me if I didn’t marry Elizabeth, then she would marry my father instead.’

  He saw the shock in Selina’s eyes.

  ‘I know,’ he said, shaking his head in disgust even now. ‘The worst thing is I contemplated leaving her to it, leaving her to the cruelty I’d experienced over the years.’

  ‘What did you do?’ Selina’s voice was no more than a whisper.

  ‘I married her.’

  ‘You’re married?’

  ‘Not any longer. I married her, a marriage in name only, and found a companion to stay with her.’

  It had been a difficult time. He’d been eighteen, an adult, but still a child in so many ways. He’d been forced to navigate the cruelties of the world alone, then suddenly he had someone else to care for.

  ‘She was unhappy, terribly so. Confused by being cast away from her family, although by all accounts they had never been overly kind to her. Six months into the marriage she died.’

  ‘What an awful situation.’

  ‘It was,’ Matthew said grimly. ‘For a while after I hated myself, hated being so weak I allowed my father and her father to manipulate me.’

  ‘It wasn’t weakness, it was kindness, trying to save that poor girl from a much worse fate.’

  ‘I should have stood up to them, insisted that I would not marry her, persuaded her father not to subject her to the brutality she would experience if she married my father.’

  ‘You were eighteen.’

  ‘When I agreed to marry her I took responsibility for her. She was unhappy and I wasn’t able to give her the love or care she needed to make her happy.’