“Did you see how well I rode, Father?” Blythe rode over to them. “May I have a bicycle of my own?”
“I’ll think about it, Blythe.”
“Then Miss Ashley and I can ride into the village for tea.”
Lord Falconbridge had begun to frown. “Come to my study when you’re done here, Miss Ashley.”
Chewing her lip, she watched him walk back to the house. She should be planning where she might go from here, but it tore at her heart to think of it.
In Lord Falconbridge’s study, Vanessa’s heart beat fast under his scrutiny.
He walked across to her. “You are fond of Blythe, are you not?”
“Very, my lord,” she said, wondering where this was heading. He sounded surprisingly reasonable after yesterday. Was it to be just a rap on the knuckles as her father used to say?
“You might help her, Miss Ashley. Would you be prepared to do something out of the ordinary?”
His question took her completely by surprise. Vanessa fingered the watch at her breast. “Like what, my lord?”
He stood looking down at her. “I had intended to find a mother for Blythe, but I’ve had little time to do it.”
Did he wish her to find him one? The irrational thought flittered through her mind, which seemed to have turned to mush with him so close. And he was so close she could study the knot in his tie and smell his fresh cologne. She anxiously raised her eyes to search his, trying to read his mood.
He remained where he was, staring down at her. “Marry me, Miss Ashley.”
Vanessa didn’t trust her ears. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“It’s perfectly clear. I’m asking you to marry me.”
Vanessa drew a sharp breath. “This is not the time to joke, my lord.” She took a step backwards. “That’s absurd. I’m a governess.” He didn’t laugh. He didn’t even smile. The serious intent in his eyes almost knocked her knees from under her. “Lords don’t wed their household staff,” she said faintly.
“You are the daughter of a nobleman. You’ve fallen on hard times, but it doesn’t change your birthright.”
“You hardly know me … and … I don’t know you at all,” she blustered. She checked the watch at her breast. “I must be getting back …”
He stepped sideways, blocking her exit. “People often marry for convenience, Miss Ashley … Vanessa.”
Vanessa backed away.
He followed.
She found herself pressed up against the wall of framed butterflies. She felt very much like one. He leaned a hand against the wall behind her. He did want her pressed under glass!
“Don’t you see, my dear? This is what Blythe wants.”
“She is but ten years old, my lord.”
“Blythe is wise beyond her years.”
Vanessa’s lips trembled. “You don’t love me.”
“Does love have to enter into it? You’ll be surprised how often it doesn’t.”
“It’s what I’ve always wished for,” she said in a breathy voice, gazing into his clear blue eyes. She suspected she could fall in love with him, but he didn’t even pretend to love her and was unlikely ever to do so. Had he been so passionately in love with his wife he’d been jealous of the footman? He could marry Miss Patterson, with her perfect nose and such confidence in her feminine grace. Attributes which men found so attractive. Vanessa could never be that. Why hadn’t he chosen Miss Patterson? Surely, no woman would refuse his suit. Neither would she in different circumstances. If he went down on one knee, a declaration of his love with passion burning in his eyes, begging her…
“I’m offering you security and a home. That’s not so bad a bargain, is it?” Put in such unromantic terms, his words jolted her back to reality. It was to be expected. He was a rational scientist after all.
Vanessa mutely shook her head. Would a marriage that offered little fulfillment or passion be bearable? Especially if she wanted more from the man?
Acknowledging her apprehension, he moved away. “We could make it a marriage in name only until I return, and then we’ll see. Would you agree to it then?”
“I’ll have to think about it.” She darted around him and hurried to the door. “May I advise you of my decision at a later time?”
“We don’t have much time, Vanessa.”
She drew in a ragged breath. “I realize that, my lord.”
“My name is Julian.”
“Is it?” she asked distractedly, her hand on the doorknob. She turned it and fled.
Vanessa picked up her skirts and rushed along the corridor. Breathless, her heart pounding, she reached the day nursery just as Blythe and the nursery maid left it. “Oh there you are, Miss Ashley.” Blythe paused. “Are you all right? You look rather hot.”
“Yes, thank you, Blythe. I hurried because I didn’t want to miss you,” Vanessa said.
“I’m to have my bath now. Can we read more of the book after supper? What did Father want?”
“Oh … nothing of any importance, Blythe. Go and have your bath and we’ll read a bit more before you go to sleep.”
Entering her bedroom, Vanessa shut the door behind her. She sank onto the bed. Marriage to Lord Falconbridge? Had she dreamt he asked her? She studied her hands, absently rubbing her ring finger. A marriage of convenience for now, he’d said. It would give her complete control of this house in his absence. How would the servants react to that? Could she gain their respect, or would they think her a schemer who enticed her way into his lordship’s affections? It seemed overwhelming. And he didn’t love her. He had asked her because Blythe wished it. Hardly a good basis for marriage. Yet he would be gone for some time … and when he returned? They could have the marriage annulled if he wished. Or if she wished. Her mind whirled, and her stomach churned.
Vanessa lay down and crossed her hands over her stomach, staring at the ceiling. The Amazon was a primitive, dangerous place. What if his lordship didn’t return? The horror of it made a moan escape her lips. What would happen to Blythe then? Did she have relatives who would take her in and care for her? Would her birthright be protected? Was there someone reliable and trustworthy to keep her fortune safe until she came of age? It was such a difficult world. She had little confidence in it, particularly after her own experience. Wishing she knew these things, she planned to ask him.
The security his lordship offered was tempting, indeed. Nevertheless, marriage should be built on a strong foundation and be for the right reasons, otherwise it could founder….and then couples were forced to remain together in purgatory. Unless one left as Clara had done. Vanessa sat up, rubbing her arms. If she refused him, would he keep her on here after he returned? Would the embarrassment of what happened between them make it impossible for her to remain? Where on earth would she find suitable employment? She might learn secretarial skills, women were doing that now….
She closed her eyes. Her heart felt like it gave a sad little leap. What if she fell deeply in love with him, and he not with her?
The answer came to her, calming her. She would have Blythe.
*****
The next morning, dressed in her best gown with the green leaf pattern, Vanessa knocked at his lordship’s door. She rubbed her stiff neck. She had lain awake long into the night and came to the decision that by now he would have changed his mind and regained his senses. Had he been afflicted with some tropical disease on his last trip that had affected his reason?
She quaked when he called for her to enter.
“There you are, Vanessa,” he said smoothly, rising to approach her. He was immaculately dressed and unruffled as she stood trembling before him. “How well that color suits you. Have you made a decision?”
Vanessa cleared her throat. She would get right to the point before her wits deserted her. “Does Blythe have relatives to care for her should you not return from South America, my lord?”
“It’s right that you should ask this,” he said. “My brother emigrated to Canada. I haven’t heard from him
for some years.”
“Your parents?”
“Both deceased.” He rubbed the crease in his brow with a finger. “It is that reason I’ve been most concerned.”
“There’s no one else who would care for Blythe?”
“If there was, I would leave her in their care. My former wife’s relatives live in France. We do not communicate.”
Vanessa took a deep breath to steady her nerves. “Then I will marry you, my lord.” What are you doing, you foolish woman? He’ll break your heart.
His gaze lightened, more from gratitude than pleasure most likely. “That’s wonderful, Vanessa.”
“Until you return, it will be a marriage in name only,” she said quickly, “for Blythe’s sake.”
“I’ve thought about that, my dear. I think it wise, once we are wed, that the marriage continues in the normal fashion.”
While he had a perfect right to wish the marriage consummated, Vanessa’s heart increased its tempo. “But it was your idea …”
“Yes, I know. But having given it due consideration, for the staff to accept you as their mistress, I believe radical changes must be made to establish your authority before I leave.”
She had to admit to the sense of it, despite her fears. Yet her future peace of mind was at great risk from this man. To lose him now would be terrible, to lose him when her lover, beyond imagining. “Perhaps we might create a ruse?”
His brows rose, and a humorous gleam lit his eyes. “A ruse? Do you really think the servants would be fooled?”
Vanessa clutched her hands together. Really, didn’t he understand her position when he coolly suggested they inhabit the same bed for the few weeks left to them before he departed? She admitted to the odd moment of reflection in the past but had never seriously considered they might become…. A frisson of panic raced through her body, and her knees trembled so much she doubted they’d hold her up. She placed a hand on the back of a chair.
“It might serve,” she said cautiously, hating that her voice wobbled.
A smile played at the edges of his mouth. “Good. Shall we go and tell Blythe?”
He was shrewd as well as intelligent. He knew she would give in at the mention of his daughter. Vanessa had admitted to herself during the long night that she had come to care deeply for Blythe. “If you think it best, my lord.” She dropped her gaze to hide that she was well aware of his strategy. It was a noble sacrifice after all.
“I do.” He stepped close. “I promise never to hurt you,” he murmured.
At least not intentionally, she thought crossly. A marriage of convenience would not affect him as it would her. He would be gone very soon, departing on a dangerous journey, perhaps never to return, leaving her heart in tatters and a child in even worse straights. Really!
“Come, let’s go to Blythe. I can’t wait to tell her.”
“You’re so sure she will approve, my lord.” How could his mere proximity have her fighting to gain her breath? “What if she doesn’t?” she asked, gaining control of her voice. “May we then forget this rash scheme?”
“Of course. You are quite right.” He held the door open for her. “But she’ll be delighted, you’ll see. And, Vanessa?”
“Yes, my lord?”
“At least when we’re alone, would you please call me by my given name?”
“And when we’re not?” A thought she hadn’t yet considered hit her with force. She knew none of the ways of society, and was struck by the enormity of the task ahead.
“My full name is Julian St. John William Grieve, 4th Viscount Falconbridge. Viscount Falconbridge is a title in the Peerage of Ireland. It was created in 1668 for William Grieve, First Baron Falconbridge. My father sold off the lands to the tenants and went into business earlier this century, but there remains an estate in Ireland, in County Wicklow. The property is leased. One day I will take you there.”
She was about to become a viscountess and would be thrown headlong into upper-class society. When she stumbled over her feet, he caught her elbow in a strong grip. “How interesting,” she said in a tight voice.
“You are the Honorable Vanessa Eliza Ashley, are you not?”
“My mother’s name was Eliza.”
“Yes, I know.”
He knew almost everything about her. She knew nothing of him or his family, beyond what he just told her. He was a stranger, albeit an attractive one. She needed to learn more about him, and wanted to ask him about Clara, but it didn’t seem fitting to do it now.
In the nursery, they found Blythe rearranging the furniture in her dollhouse. She jumped up as they entered the room.
“Blythe.” Julian pushed Vanessa gently forward. “I have asked Miss Ashley to marry me. And she has consented.”
Blythe’s eyes grew large, and her mouth dropped open. Doubt was quickly replaced with joy, and she rushed to hug first her father and then Vanessa. “Is it true?” she asked in a hushed voice, as if to say it aloud would prove it wrong.
“Yes, child, it is.” Julian bent to kiss her cheek. He glanced at Vanessa, his eyes warm with satisfaction.
Once he realized what he had done, how long would he be happy with his decision? It was one thing to care for your child, another to sacrifice your life to her. But wasn’t she doing the same? No. The answer came swiftly, and she knew her feelings for him were stronger than she had thus admitted to herself. Acknowledging it only filled her with trepidation.
“We must announce it to the staff,” Julian said, sending another bolt of panic through her. “Perhaps a celebratory glass of sherry before lunch,” he added, gazing into her eyes, and no doubt seeing the stupefaction there. Sherry before lunch seemed a little excessive, but she wasn’t about to refuse it.
Chapter Nine
At Julian’s instruction, Johnson gathered the staff together in the ballroom. A glass of wine was offered to every member, both indoors and out, including Jim, the seventeen-year-old stable boy, the gardeners, the account manager, Davison, and Bartlet, the gamekeeper. Vanessa saw no one refuse. She drank hers gratefully and unbecomingly fast. She was tempted to have another but resisted, afraid her face would flame bright red.
Feeling a little better after the sherry, Vanessa stood beside Julian before the assembled group. Mrs. Royce’s eyes narrowed and other staff members’ mouths were agape as Julian explained that she was to be their new mistress.
She lifted her chin and managed a few words, promising to be a fair-minded mistress who would give due consideration to their needs. “I know everyone here is competent,” she added, “and I put great trust in those in charge.” She turned to nod at Mrs. Royce and Johnson. Had Mrs. Royce’s sharp expression mellowed a fraction?
Vanessa walked with Julian along the line, greeting each member of the staff in turn. When she came to Lovel, he grinned and winked. Insufferable man! Vanessa glanced at Julian to see if he had noticed, but he was deep in conversation with Johnson. She moved to the next person. It wouldn’t do for Lovel to note her distaste; it would be hard enough for her to manage this household without him thinking she disliked him. She didn’t feel an aversion to anyone without a very good reason, and she couldn’t understand why he provoked such a reaction with little effort on his part. He showed little respect for his employers it was true, but it wasn’t that. Might she be unfair? She resolved to keep an open mind where he was concerned. She had to admire his deft handling of horses.
Dorcas smiled, a little teary-eyed, and the other maids’ congratulations showed how romantic they thought it all was. Johnson squeezed her hand so tightly she felt sure she heard the bones crack. There were a few others who were subdued and no doubt needed time to make up their minds about her, but their respect for their master was evident, and as this was his wish, the atmosphere remained cheerful, helped along by Julian’s request that they all have another glass of wine and a piece of Cook’s fruit cake. It might have been the wine, or the fact that she’d met no strong opposition, but Vanessa’s fears eased a little. After
all, Blythe’s happiness mattered most.
*****
Julian and Vanessa walked through the gardens. It was early evening and cooler now with summer but a memory. He shrugged off his coat and placed it around her shoulders. “We must marry quickly and without ceremony. I hope you don’t mind. I know women like an extravagant occasion with all the trimmings.”
“Not I. I’ve never wished for a big wedding.” She smiled. “And who would I invite?”
“I should invite your uncle.”
She thought of that imperious man, watching her, judging her. “Oh no. Please don’t. He’ll feel he has to attend, and I’d hate that.”
Julian turned to glance at her. “It could be to your advantage, make things go more smoothly for you. Are you sure?”
“Yes, quite,” she said in a firm tone. Having her uncle there would make her even more nervous.
“I shall have to send word to him, though.”
She bit her lip. “If etiquette requires it.”
“So there’s no one?”
She shook her head. “My aunt in Taunton is elderly. She wouldn’t wish to make the journey.”
“I’ll invite two of my friends, Hewson Watmore and Lord Forster and their wives. You have yet to meet my colleagues accompanying me on the next exploration.”
The wedding proved to be challenging already. But what was to follow worried her most. She hated the thought of disappointing Julian, especially in the bedroom.
“I thought the Registry Office the following Friday,” he said, studying her intently. “I can obtain a special license.”
She pulled his coat over her chest, it smelled of his scent, male overlaid with a woody fragrance. “What on earth will I wear?” she asked aloud, expecting him to say any old thing would do.
“Of course. I’d forgotten. It will have to be shop bought, but tomorrow you must purchase a dress.” He turned back to walk on. “You’ll need a full trousseau of course. And you shall have one.”
The Folly at Falconbridge Hall Page 9
