A Question of Love

by Angeline Fortin

  Eve struggled within herself for a long moment. She wanted so badly to share her trials with Francis, yet knew it would be highly inappropriate given their short acquaintance. Still, if it helped him to understand her and the way she was now, wasn’t that better than leaving him in the dark? “When I danced the first dance at my wedding to Shaftesbury, I remember hearing everyone whispering that it was like a fairytale, just like when Jenny Jerome had wed Randolph Churchill.” Francis remembered that story, of course, when the younger brother of the Duke of Marlborough had wed the American heiress. Most had put it about that it was a love match. But of course, many English lords looked to the daughters of wealthy American businessmen to increase their dwindling fortunes, while the daughters were eager to snare a title to accompany their wealth. It was an avenue that he might suggest to Jack Merrill now that it occurred to him. It was usually seen as an agreeable situation of give and take. Jack might sell his title for an American heiress.

  He returned his attention to Eve. “So everyone thought yours to be a love match as well?”

  “Indeed, they all assumed it was a great romance.” She shook her head with some disgust. Eve thoughtfully examined her plays available on the board before her. She considered a moment then made her move before she continued in a low voice, “But all I remember thinking was that he looked at me so oddly. I thought at first it was pride. You know? As if he were proud to have me as his wife. It wasn’t just that. It was possession. It’s hard to explain what it was like but it was terrifying.”

  “Did it get better? Was your marriage a happy one?” he asked softly. He regretted asking. If she had been happy and in love, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know that another man had made her so, yet at the same time he only wanted her happiness.

  But Eve shuddered and shook her head, avoiding an answer. “Was yours?”

  Francis laughed harshly. “I divorced her, if you will recall. No, like yours, my marriage was arranged as well. When I was eighteen, my father had taken a fall from his horse and broke his hip and leg in several places. Rather than getting better, his health continued to decline rapidly. The doctors could do nothing for him and speculated that there was some internal injury that was causing the problems. Mother had died only a couple of years before and I feel that perhaps he did not truly want to get better. I think he wanted to join her again, but first he wanted to see the MacKintosh line secured and arranged for a quick marriage to Vanessa Fane. She is the only daughter of the Earl of Westmoreland. A very powerful man. She was eighteen as well, very beautiful. I initially thought I was lucky, in spite of it all.”

  “So you were happy?” she wondered.

  “I would say oblivious, at least in the beginning, would be a better description,” he corrected and explained. “You must remember, a lady at eighteen is far more mature than a man at the same age. To her, I was but a boy, a child, and she wanted a man. She had one, many, I don’t know. But she gave birth to a daughter not six months after we wed.” At her questioning look, he gave a curt nod. “She had allowed me in her bed but once. I assume that my boyish groping was not as satisfactory to her for she never allowed me in it again. But the child was fully developed. There was no doubt that her father had advanced the marriage to hide her disgrace and my father, in his weakened state, was taken advantage of in his desire to see us settled. He died at least before her ignominy became evident.”

  “Oh, Francis,” Eve sighed, and reached over to stroke the back of his hand again. “I am so sorry. Did you love her very much?”

  “I never loved her,” he denied vehemently. He turned his hand over to hold hers and looked seriously at her for a long moment. “There has only been one woman who as ever taken hold of my heart. Only one woman who has shown me a hint of paradise.”

  “Oh, Francis,” Eve whispered, feeling her heart twist with painful regret over the love they had lost. “Those few moments with you were the best of my life.”

  “Of mine as well,” he returned sincerely. “I have never forgotten you these many years. I have often wondered where you were and what you were doing. Wishing that things could have been different.”

  Eve stared down at their clasped hands but could say nothing more, as longing washed over her. For she had wished for that very thing for a very long time.

  “You avoided the question I asked you earlier.”

  “No, I didn’t,” Eve replied evasively. “I told you about my marriage.”

  “But not how it related to what I was asking,” he clarified. “How had I offended you?”

  “Let me put it this way, Francis,” she gave him a direct, honest gaze. A hard look to his mind. “I would rather have had a marriage with an unfaithful spouse who went his own way than to have suffered a miserable marriage where my spouse was there every day. You said before that I had changed, that it was as though I were inside myself but would not come out and you were right.” Eve took a deep shuddering breath uncertain whether she could continue, but Francis reached across and took her hand in quiet support.

  “For six years, Shaftesbury controlled my every moment. For six years, he molded me into his version of a perfect socialite. I did what he wanted, when he wanted. I was hardly allowed to breathe unless he gave his say so. If I tried to stand up for myself, he would punish me as he saw fit. His punishments were appalling and sometimes painful, but the worst was when Laurie was a year old.” She paused and took another shaky breath, the bitterness that had built in her voice suddenly deflated. “He took my baby away from me for almost a month as punishment for saying something untoward to one of his cronies. I can’t even remember what it was that I said, but he knew how to hurt me, Francis. He knew exactly how to extinguish any fire I dared show. He demanded perfection, insisted on it and forced me to it.”

  “My paradise, I had no idea.” He caressed her hand and kissed her palm. Inside, though, he was seething with anger at the man who had dared to abuse this woman. A woman of her fire and liveliness should have been treasured and nurtured! It was appalling that her husband had not done so!

  “No one did.” She hesitated but pulled her hand back. “I was so humiliated by what was happening to me I did not dare to tell anyone, even my sister. I had only just gotten the courage to ask my father to help me secure a divorce when Shaftesbury was lost on the Utopia.”

  “You had the courage to ask for a divorce? Did you not fear the consequences? The scandal?” Francis thought of the years of indecision that had preceded his own bid for divorce. How he had feared the scandal, not for himself but for his brothers and Fiona.

  “I did.” Her mouth set in a determined line. “But I deserved freedom to make my own choices in life. I needed that freedom for myself.”

  Glenrothes’ head spun suddenly with possibilities. This woman, who had convinced herself that she was unable to countermand Society, had been willing to face the greatest scandal of all in seeking a divorce from her husband? An earl of the British nobility, no less? She might think herself meek and proper but there was strength and rebellion in her, indeed, if she had been willing to take such a step. What an enigma! His own divorce had rocked the local society and brought down a scandal that had plagued his clan for years. Only recently had they been able to emerge from the cloud that had hung over them, though he was still watched and talked about. The whole experience had been a test of their love for one another as a family.

  Eve would have been well aware of what such a scandal would mean but had been willing to face it. What that told Francis was that there was a part of her yet willing to take chances, even if she didn’t see it in such a light. To risk everything she cared for despite the outcome. Perhaps there was one other thing she might care enough about to take such a chance?

  When Francis remained silent, Eve met his gaze. “You’ve got quite a gleam in your eye, Francis,” Eve commented lightly. “Whatever are you thinking?”

  “I will share with you soon, my Eden,” he assured her. “Just let me think on it a while lon
ger.” Though he had not admitted it to Eve or anyone else as yet, Francis was determined to have a future with Eve. He would not forsake her again. He refused to live the rest of his life without her.

  “Very well. By the by, check mate.”

  Chapter 21

  After dinner that evening, when the ladies had departed the dining room, Jack lit a cigar and puffed on it for a few moments, while he watched his friend sipping from a glass of port with a contemplative look on his face. “What has you in such a quandary, MacKintosh? The ice queen not melting quickly enough for you?”

  “I believe I have asked you repeatedly not to refer to the countess in such a manner, Merrill,” Francis responded in a low, dark tone, as he swirled the ruby liquid around his glass.

  “I believe you haven’t answered my question,” Jack retorted blithely.

  “And I do not intend to.” Francis’ voice was rough and distracted prompting Richard to take an interest in the subject.

  Richard leaned forward curiously. “Something is on your mind, brother. What is it? Your look is much more serious than that of a man planning a seduction.” Richard leaned back and clasped his hands behind his head. “Naturally, Abby and I still feel that you should not pursue the countess any further.”

  “Naturally,” Jack drawled.

  “You’re right. Naturally,” Francis concurred.

  “He is?”

  “I am?”

  Francis snorted as he took another sip of his port, rolling the heavy liquid around appreciatively before swallowing. “You have told me time and again in these past days, quite adamantly, I might add, that the countess is a respectable woman and deserves more than to be cast in the role of a temporary lover. Is that not so?”

  “It is,” his brother answered wondering where this was going.

  “Well, you are right.”

  “I am?” came the doubtful response.

  “He is?” Jack chimed in, baffled.

  Francis looked thoughtfully into his drink. “She does deserve more.” He downed the rest of the drink and thunked the empty glass to the table. The burn of the alcohol matched the fire of his resolve for he wasn’t going to stand apart from his destiny any longer. “That’s why I am going to marry her.”

  The two other men exchanged a shocked glance. “You’re not serious!” Jack retorted, choking on his shock. “After all that bitch put you through.” Haddington waved them off when the brothers both started in protest. “Not the countess, the other one! Nessa made your life hell for nearly a decade and you would voluntarily put your head in the noose again? You must be foxed.”

  Disbelief was evident in his friend’s expression, but Francis merely nodded thoughtfully, settling back into his chair. “Not foxed at all, merely… awakened. Aye, I believe I would do it. For her.”

  “Unbelievable!” Jack huffed and downed his port in one swallow. He glanced down the table where the remainder of the MacKintosh brothers and other men had gathered, before lowering his voice. “I would and will do it because I must, lest I lose my estates, but old man, you have options! Have an affair with her and get her out of your system! You needn’t marry just to get under her skirts.”

  Francis leveled a look upon his oldest friend that had Jack reconsidering his words.

  “Umm, Francis?” Richard tentatively asked. “You realize that Eve is a woman of unimpeachable propriety? Have you forgotten the scandal of your divorce?”

  “Of course not,” he tapped the empty glass on the table and lolled it from side to side. “Eve told me something today which I will relay to you in the strictest confidence.”

  “Aye?” Richard prompted him to continue.

  “It seems her husband Shaftesbury was not the best of husbands. He was abusive to her.” The other two men raised their eyebrows in surprise. “Indeed, the countess was planning on divorcing him before he died.”

  Both men’s eyebrows shot farther up. “Really?”

  Francis nodded. “Damn the bloody consequences, damn the scandal. She was going to do it, and it got me thinking that perhaps my scandal would not mean so much to her. You see, she was planning on doing it herself.”

  “That scandal has been so harsh that you’ve become a veritable hermit these last years,” Richard reminded him. “Added to that, Westmoreland practically tore the earldom apart financially.”

  Francis considered his first marriage and his damned wife. All ten of the MacKintosh siblings had taken to that name for his wife within the first couple years of their marriage fifteen years ago, when Vanessa had been caught in the embrace of the earl’s secretary. Francis’ damned wife. Even wee Fiona from two years of age had called her that.

  None of the MacKintosh clan could truly understand why Alec MacKintosh and Vanessa’s father, Jamie Fane, had forced this marriage on Francis. He had wanted the line secured to be sure, but why Fane’s daughter? None of them had known. Vanessa had been the terror of Glen Cairn; impossible to live with and impossible to please. Though none of them tried to please her much anyway once her duplicity was known.

  Francis’ damned wife was quite adept at finding her pleasure without any of their help. She would sleep with any man who cared to make the effort and had cut a wide path through the male servants and crofters before the end of their second year of marriage. It wasn’t until she tried to seduce their brother Vincent a year later that they discovered the whole truth of her exploits. Vin had been nineteen at the time and so obvious in his rejection of her that her rage had nearly shaken the castle walls.

  When she had taken up her public affair, that had been enough for Glenrothes. Determined that he could take no more, Francis had attempted to petition a divorce only to be visited by Vanessa's father, the powerful Earl of Westmoreland. He had slapped the divorce petition down before Francis and told him that if Francis ever attempted to divorce his daughter again he would ruin the entire MacKintosh clan. Westmoreland was a powerful man; his connections were so deep that he’d managed to secure the petition before it had even reached the courts.

  But by that time, Francis was not a callow youth any longer. He was Glenrothes! He was no longer cowed by Westmoreland and his threats to ruin the MacKintosh family. Glenrothes had become a power of its own since he had taken over the earldom. Francis had taken the matter all the way to the crown on grounds of adultery, even bringing in his brothers and others before the courts to stand witness.

  Richard was right, it had cost him dearly both in reputation and monies. Westmoreland had fought the proceedings vehemently and stretched it out over years before finally, four years ago, the commitee had finally found in Glenrothes’ favor and a Parliamentary divorce had been granted.

  “He did,” Francis agreed gravely to Richard’s point, “but we have recovered and grown even greater.” Glenrothes now had influence, it was true. Through his business and political connections, Francis had grown the earldom to easily rival that of Westmoreland. Were it not for Vanessa’s occasional presence in Edinburgh, the scandal would have all but died, however the woman did not have the decency to flee to the continent and stay away. At least she was in London for now. “There will be a greater scandal if I remarry,” he added. “Do you not think our family could withstand it?”

  Richard knew the men of the family could. The older ones especially remembered how Francis had suffered from his marriage and would all give an arm or leg to have their brother find peace. The revelation that Francis wanted to achieve that serenity through remarriage would shock them all no doubt. But what of Fiona? He raised the question to his brother.

  “Fiona will have a dowry large enough to make any man forget and forgive such a scandal. If I make this happen now, she can have her debut next Season and most will be forgotten,” Francis voiced his plan. “With a new Countess of Glenrothes, a woman of impeccable reputation, to see her through it.”

  “You mean to do it then?” Richard asked.

  “I had my solicitor draw up a marriage contract this afternoon.” Francis
pushed away from the table and stood as Richard clapped him on the back. “All I have left to do is propose.”

  “We’ll stand by you, old chap.”

  “Thank you, and until then I mean to take your advice and merely court Eve properly until we are wed,” Francis grinned. “It will be hard to resist temptation though.”

  Jack was a bit slower to get up from the table as he shook his head in disbelief. “Are you actually saying that you’re going to do it? I mean you are actually going to marry again? You want to get married again? To the ice…the countess, of all people? You barely know her!”

  “Aye, my friend, that is exactly what I mean.” Francis grinned and placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “And believe me, I know her very well.”

  “You’ll have to excuse me.” Jack walked toward the stairs. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

  Richard and Francis watched him go in amusement. “Abby will want to collect on her bet, you know?” Richard reminded him.

  “I will be glad to pay,” Francis told him in all honesty. “I knew all along there was an exception to every rule. I should have known better than to bet against her.”

  Chapter 22

  “Journeys end in lovers meeting,

  Every wise man’s son doth know.”

  William Shakespeare, Twelfth Night

  Moira and Eve were again ensconced in the corner chatting after dinner when Jack joined them some minutes before the other men. The look he gave Eve roused her curiosity but, rather than question him about it, Eve brought up another topic that had been niggling at her in the back of her mind. It had occurred to her that if Jack wanted a wealthy heiress then Moira should be just the ticket for him, and asked him about it after he joined them.

  Surprisingly, Jack shuddered. “Alas, as wealthy as she is, I could no more marry Moira than my own sister!” he admitted. “She is a brat to say the least and I have known her since she was a young child. Having seen her in short skirts and with her hair in plaits, I cannot contemplate the prospect of taking her as my wife.”