The Convenient Bride

by Winchester, Catherine

  As she left she wondered if in all good conscience, she could refuse Charles. He wouldn’t be upset if she refused Max’s proposal but he would be disappointed. Knowing how it would set his mind at ease and after everything he and his family had done for her, she felt a little guilty at even considering denying his request.

  She returned to her rooms and took out her journal, intending to pour her thoughts onto the pages. She usually found that writing things down helped her come to a decision.

  She could vividly remember coming to live with the Starks after her parents died; she had felt so lost. She didn’t even know the Starks very well but she had little other family who wanted her, so she had been sent to her father’s closest friend and her Godfather, Charles Stark, Earl of Rochester.

  Maxwell had been away at school when she got here and when he returned, he didn’t know what to do with the strange girl who had invaded his home so while he was polite, he largely ignored her.

  She had been living with them for two months when his younger brother, Michael, had reduced her to tears once again, telling her that she wasn’t welcome here, that she should just run away and that her parents had only died because they were so desperate to be rid of her. That was nothing new for Michael, he had enjoyed torturing her since the first day she had arrived but that day was different, because Max overheard the mean-spirited diatribe. The sixteen year old Max had seemed so large and imposing to the thirteen year old Lucy, not to mention, very brave and noble. He was her knight in shining armour.

  Happening upon them, Max had told his brother in no uncertain terms, that he would whip Michael to within an inch of his life if he should ever discover that he had insulted their guest again. Then, gathering the sobbing girl up in his arms, he had taken her to the kitchen, where he dried her tears as Cook found a slice of cake and glass of milk to cheer her. Max had assured her that Michael was just a bully and if he ever said anything even slightly disagreeable to Lucy again, she was to tell him and he would take care of it.

  Between him and Cook, they had succeeded in stopping her tears, coaxed a smile and then a laugh from her and finally, Max had offered to show her around. Not like the adults had when she arrived, but showing her the things that a child needed to know, such as where the interesting books in the library could be found, where a child might spy on gatherings while remaining unobserved, which banisters were the best to slide down and the best riding trails around the estate.

  Lucy couldn’t say when she had fallen in love with Max precisely; was it when he told Michael off, when he cradled her sobbing form in his arms, or when they became friends? Nevertheless, from that day onwards they were virtually inseparable. Even when Max was away at boarding school and university, they wrote to each other almost daily.

  As Lucy had approached her 17th birthday, people had begun to speculate about them getting married, not least of who was Max’s younger sister, May.

  Despite living together, they weren’t related after all, and they were so close to each other that it seemed inevitable. Lucy allowed herself to be swayed by their words a time or two, even though in her heart, she knew that Max saw her only as a sister and of course, no matter how much she wished it wasn’t so, she had been proved right.

  Max was not a man who wanted to settle down, with anyone.

  Only now that had all changed and he did want her, just not in the way that she had dreamed of for so long.

  Chapter Two

  Maxwell Stark awoke with a sore head and when he remembered why he had drunk so much, a sinking heart. He wasn’t usually prone to drinking too much, at least, not enough to leave him feeling this bad the next day, but he had needed to forget his problems for a while.

  It had been foolish of him to run up so much debt and in all honesty, he couldn’t blame his father for being angry with him, but he couldn’t seem to alter his behaviour either. All his life he had known that his future was to follow in his father’s footsteps, and all his life he had rebelled against the idea.

  His brother, Michael, had resented him because while he would inherit some cash, Max would get the title and the estate. Max meanwhile, had envied Michael his freedom.

  From the day that he was old enough to understand such concepts, Max knew what his future was. He had no choice in the matter at all, while Michael had a world of possibilities before him, from entering the clergy, to going into business, to emigrating.

  When he left university, Max had enquired about the possibility of serving in the Army or Navy for a time, but his father had flatly refused. Then Michael had swept in, claiming that he wanted to do the same, and had been given every support possible.

  Michael had chosen the Army in the end, so his father had duly purchased a commission for him and settled an amount on him, to supplement his low wage. Right now Michael was in West Africa, on the Gold Coast, helping to protect the population of Accra against Ashanti incursions, and sending regular letters home about his adventures.

  Pushing such thoughts aside, Max pulled the bell for hot water, then quickly washed and dressed when it came, before he headed to the kitchen for a quick coffee. Cook had always indulged him and didn’t mind him intruding on her space in the slightest. She prepared him a coffee, just the way he liked it and since he’d missed breakfast, she made him what she called a bacon butty, to help him ‘face the day’.

  Finally feeling a little more human, he headed up to the ground floor to face his family. He found his mother and Lucy in the rear parlour, as they usually were before lunch. His mother was embroidering a sampler while Lucy was at the writing desk, supposedly updating her estate books, although she seemed distracted.

  “Good morning,” he said.

  “Maxwell.” His mother looked reproachful as she nodded to him, but she would never dare chastise him.

  Lucy just looked at him, as though she were sizing him up.

  Last night, marrying her had seemed like the only thing to do but this morning, he was certain that his father wasn’t serious about this whole marriage business.

  “Your father wants to see you,” Lucy informed him. “And good afternoon.” She raised a pointed eyebrow, then turned back to her books.

  “I suppose I’ll go and see him then,” Max said, backing towards the door. His mother looked sympathetic to his plight but Lucy ignored his departure.

  He knocked on his father’s door and went in before being told to enter.

  “Good afternoon, Father.”

  Charles put his pen down and looked at his son, who sat opposite him as if he hadn’t a care in the world.

  “I just wanted to let you know that I'm serious, Maxwell. Either you are married in four weeks’ time, or I will cut you off without a penny.”

  “It will all come to me when you die anyway,” Max taunted.

  “True, but between now and then, how long do you think it will take before your friends are tired of giving you charity? And you must ask yourself, who else is going to pay off your debt?”

  Max scowled.

  “Lucy told me that you had asked her to marry you.”

  “What of it?” Max snapped.

  “Nothing but if she agrees, I will wholeheartedly support such a union.”

  “I thought you wanted me to marry Georgette?”

  “No, but unless you can find your own bride, I will force such a union.”

  “You can’t do this,” Max said, getting to his feet and pacing the room like a caged lion. “I am an adult, you cannot dictate to me whom I should marry.”

  “You are indeed an adult, but you do not behave like one. My conditions stand but you are of course free to leave at any time, if you find my terms unacceptable.”

  Max stormed from the room, slamming the door behind him. He wished they were at their country estate instead of in London for the Season. The only thing that would calm him right now would be riding but Arthur was in Kent, being exercised by a groom rather than Max. They did have other horses stabled in London and Max could
ride them in Hyde Park but he needed more than a polite ride, he needed to gallop across the countryside, to feel the wind in his hair, away from civilisation; it was the closest he could come to ever feeling free.

  He had to get out though, to clear his head and think, so he headed straight for the front door, not even bothering to say goodbye to anyone.

  ***

  Max’s mother, Eleanor, wanted to call on Georgette that afternoon and dragged Lucy with her, as she usually did. It wasn’t that Lucy disliked calling on ladies, simply that given Max had asked Lucy to marry him, she felt awkward going to meet Georgette, especially since the young woman was so smitten with Max.

  Eleanor was a slight lady, standing barely five feet and the only attribute she shared with her son, was his dark colouring and blue eyes. Her features however, were small and dainty, with a fine bone structure and a button nose.

  Lucy kept mostly silent during the visit, as Georgette’s mother and Eleanor talked, preferring to observe the young woman before her. Georgette was a plain looking girl but not unattractive, and she made the best of what she had, with the latest fashions and hair ornaments.

  Her temperament however, was all wrong for Max. He needed someone who could stand up to him but Georgette was far too timid to offer any real opposition. He needed someone who he could converse with but Georgette hardly seemed to be able to venture an opinion. And he needed someone that he could make passionate love to, while poor Georgina looked more likely to be frightened by his advances than to welcome them.

  She supposed that to most people, Georgette would be considered her competition but the truth was, neither of them were even in the race. It would take an extraordinary woman to win Max’s love and clearly, neither lady was in the running.

  Lucy wondered what would happen if she did marry Max and he later met a woman that he truly loved. Could she stand it if he left her to live with the other woman or perhaps worse, for him to keep the true love of his life as his mistress?

  Then again, she felt that it would be wrong to let Georgette marry him. Lucy would be hurt by his antics but she knew that she could survive heartbreak. Could Georgette?

  And then she had to consider Charles’ plea, knowing that if Max never did live up to his responsibilities, she could.

  But at what cost to herself? She had always assumed that when she met the right man, her love for him would eclipse her feelings for Max. Didn’t she have a right to marry for love rather than duty? Didn’t she deserve someone who loved her as much as she loved him?

  She didn’t really know how she felt but what she did know was that she had to decide, and soon.

  ***

  Max didn’t return home for dinner that evening and the meal was a rather stifled affair. Lucy excused herself afterwards and changed for bed, then she got out her journal and began to write down more of her thoughts. Hopefully after a good night’s sleep, she would know what to do.

  ***

  Max awoke in the arms of a beautiful prostitute, one Madam Marie Poisson. She could do things to the body that would make a man’s toes curl and his hair stand on end but more importantly, she could make him forget his woes for a while.

  He hadn’t meant to fall asleep and spend the night but he had slept so poorly the night before and, his father could hardly get any angrier with him than he already was. Marie seemed to enjoy it when he spent the night with her, even although it was a rare occurrence.

  He did his best not to wake her as he dressed but she began to stir as he tied his shoes.

  “You are leaving?” she asked in French accented English. “I thought that we could have some fun this morning.”

  Max turned to her and smiled. She really was very pretty, and physically, with dark, almost black hair and an olive complexion, almost the exact opposite of Lucy.

  He came and sat beside her on the bed. “I’m sorry, my sweet, but I have to get home.”

  “What for? You spend all your time with me complaining about your family. Stay with me a little longer, I can help you forget all about them for a while.”

  He leaned down to kiss her goodbye and she wound her arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. The passion of her embrace almost made him change his mind; almost but not quite. He couldn’t run from his problems forever.

  “I’m sorry,” he said when he pulled away, “but I really do have to go.”

  She pouted, stretching languorously, the swell of her breasts peeking out from the covers, tempting him. Marie was a skilled lover, knowing exactly how to tempt a man. The very artifice of her actions however, made them easier to resist; or at least it did once you recognised her for the skilled manipulator that she was.

  “I’ll be by in a few days,” he said, placing a quick kiss on her forehead before heading home.

  He was pleased to see that it was still early and luck was on his side when he got home, with only the servants being about. He washed and dressed for the day, smiling as he noticed Lucy’s surprised expression when she entered the breakfast room, to find him sitting at the table.

  “I am capable of being up at a decent hour,” he said, clearly enjoying her shock.

  “Are you certain that you actually went to bed?” she asked. “Because it wasn’t slept in last night.”

  “Making a midnight run to my bedroom again?” he teased. “I thought you said we were too old for that?”

  Lucy couldn’t help but smile at the memories of their childhood antics. They didn’t creep into each other’s rooms very often but when he had just returned from school, or was about to leave once again and time felt short, they would often risk it. She had put a stop to that after they had made love, too afraid of giving into her desires once more.

  “I just wondered if you came home last night, that’s all, so I looked in on my way down.”

  “Jealous?” he teased but as the breakfast room door opened and drew his attention, he missed the look of pain that crossed her face because yes, she was jealous.

  Charles paused on the threshold as he saw Max.

  “I won’t change my mind,” Charles said by way of greeting.

  “I know,” Max agreed, getting up to help himself to the hot plates on the sideboard, while Lucy served tea and coffee to everyone at the table. When he returned to the table and handed her a plate, she looked surprised again and he realised that it had been an awfully long time since he had been up early enough to eat breakfast with her. As children, he had always got her breakfast for her, it was just one of their ways.

  When his mother entered and also looked bewildered by his appearance at the breakfast table, he began to feel a little bad. It didn’t feel like that long ago since he had shared breakfast with his family, although he couldn’t quite recall when that might have been.

  Conversation flowed as they discussed various topics, from the news in a letter Eleanor had received yesterday from her sister, to local politics and the next Ball.

  Max just listened, feeling a little uncomfortable.

  When the meal and conversation was over, his father excused himself to open his correspondence in the study and his mother headed to the rear parlour, where she usually spent the mornings. Lucy picked up her post and went to follow Eleanor.

  “Can we talk?” Max asked her.

  Lucy nodded and followed him through into the library, where they would have some privacy.

  “Have you had a chance to consider my request?” Max asked.

  “I have,” Lucy said, taking a seat in the armchair that was among the cluster of green leather seats near the fireplace.

  “And?” Max looked hopeful.

  “I will marry you,” she told him.

  Max grinned and stepped forward, his arms outstretched to embrace her. Lucy held her hand up to stop him.

  “I do I have some conditions that you might want to hear first.”

  His smile faltered at her words but he supposed that it was a reasonable request. He nodded for her to continue and took the seat at the end of
the small sofa, next to her.

  “Number one, I am putting my inheritance in trust for our children. If I should die before you, you will have the use of my property for the remainder of your life, but they will belong to our children.”

  “Why?” he asked.

  “Because you gamble, Max, and while I don’t believe you to be a degenerate gambler, I won’t take this risk with our childrens’ future. If you should happen to gamble your estate away, our children will still have something. My lawyer is taking care of the details and the trust document should be ready to sign by Monday.”

  Max nodded. Were his inheritance about to become the property of someone who enjoyed a flutter, he supposed that it would be prudent to take steps to protect his interest.

  “Very well.”

  “Second, I realise that you have no intention of changing your womanising ways but I would prefer it if you no longer discussed them with me.”

  “But we tell each other everything!” He sounded shocked.

  “Yes but right now, we’re only friends. When we’re man and wife, it won’t be appropriate. Not that it’s appropriate for you to talk about the things you do with a woman anyway but… well.”

  “You’re not a woman, Lucy, you’re my friend.”

  Lucy took the blow well. “Be that as it may, my condition stands.”

  “Luce? I don’t understand why you’re saying this.” Didn’t she know that he would be faithful to her? That she was probably the only woman he could be faithful to?

  “As someone who will share your bed on occasion, I would really rather not be reminded on a regular basis, of all the possible diseases that you could give me!”

  “But you know that I'm always safe.”

  Yes she did know that, but her real fear was the pain she would feel when he talked of his conquests.

  “I don’t believe that my request is asking too much of my husband!”

  Lucy rarely raised her voice so he knew she was serious. “All right, fine, no talk of other women.”

  “And no flirting with them in public. I have no wish to become a laughing stock. I know discretion isn’t something that you are very familiar with, but I ask that you learn to exercise it.”