The Madcap Marriage

by Allison Lane

  “What troubles you, dear?” Lady Alquist dropped sugar in her coffee and stirred.

  “Lord Hillcrest. A man who would publish notice of a nonexistent betrothal must have been a horrible father. What did growing up in such a family do to Rafe?”

  Lady Alquist’s hand jerked, sending her spoon across the room, where it hit the wall. “He published a betrothal announcement?”

  “Two days ago in the Post. Rafe swears he never consented, but I can’t imagine a father being that dictatorial.”

  “That’s Hillcrest.” Lady Alquist absently accepted another spoon from the footman and resumed stirring her coffee. “I dislike speaking ill of others, Helen, but you need to understand Hillcrest if you are to help Rafe.”

  Helen blinked. “So I was right that he needs help.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Rafe claims Hillcrest has hated him from birth.”

  “It is more stubbornness than hatred, but it has mired them in a war that neither can win. Yet neither is strong enough to abandon the fight. Rafe has tried to retreat – and succeeded to some extent, creating a normal life for himself in town. But he will need more help than I can give if he is to be truly free.”

  “Why?”

  “Because the battle started before he was born, so he knows nothing else. Retiring from the lists resolved nothing, though even that much accomplishment proves his remarkable character.”

  Helen frowned. It seemed that Rafe’s depiction of his father might be truer than she’d thought. “What started it?”

  “Many things.” Lady Alquist shook her head, then sipped her coffee. “I was twelve when I first met Hillcrest, but the seeds of this battle had already been sown. He was horrible.”

  Helen shivered.

  “You may think I was too young to judge,” Lady Alquist continued. “But I knew. He was all of thirty and stone cold. The thought of Catherine— But I must back up so you’ll understand. Hillcrest would not have entered our lives had my sister Catherine been less willful. She and Papa crossed swords almost daily. Tired of the turmoil, he finally set out to find her a husband. I don’t know how he thought Hillcrest would do for a girl barely sixteen.” She toyed with her cup. “He was domineering, bad-tempered, and desperate for money – his father had recently died, leaving him nothing but a derelict estate and crushing debts. It was the scandal of the year, for the Hillcrest fortune had been legendary. To find it replaced by a mortgage seemed….”

  “Your father gave his daughter to a tyrannical fortune hunter?” Helen stared. Granted, arranged marriages had been the rule, but most fathers chose grooms who could enhance their own credit, then demanded elaborate marriage contracts to assure their daughters’ comfort and grandchildren’s security. It was yet another reason her father had set up the trust. He feared he wouldn’t be available to negotiate the contract.

  “It was a good match.” Lady Alquist’s dry tone belied her words, pulling Helen back to the story. “Papa was a baronet, so snaring a viscount was a coup.”

  Was that how people would see her? wondered Helen suddenly. An heiress who had traded her fortune for consequence? She stifled a shudder.

  “Papa was adamant that it was a good match,” repeated Lady Alquist. “But I never believed him – not even the day he announced it. He and Catherine had butted heads for years.”

  “Why?”

  Lady Alquist sipped while she composed her thoughts. “Rafe will never admit this, for he worships his mother, and I would deny it to anyone outside the family, but much as I loved Catherine, she was perverse. If our governess called us to do sums, Catherine would insist on needlework. If ordered to remain upstairs, she would barge into the drawing room, but if invited to join guests, she would refuse. She was headstrong and willful to a fault – especially with Papa. I would like to believe he thought Hillcrest could settle her, but at best, he didn’t care. And I suspect he accepted Hillcrest’s offer to punish the daughter he had never understood.”

  “Dear Lord,” murmured Helen, more thankful than ever that her parents had loved her.

  “I’ve made her sound unbalanced, I fear.” Her face registered frustration. “She wasn’t. She was inquisitive and very bright, with a zest for life few people manage. Her only fault was her refusal to accept what Papa termed her place. Rafe inherited her best traits, along with a dose of her stubbornness. But at least he listens, uses logic, and is willing to concede an argument if evidence proves him wrong.”

  She nodded. “I take it Catherine wasn’t.”

  “No. She accepted Hillcrest to escape Papa, but she soon learned that he was just as autocratic. She’d expected a gay life in London, but he took her directly to his estate. Catherine was furious. If she had been older…” She shrugged. “I don’t know all the ways she fought, for while her letters were filled with complaints, she said little on her own account. But I do know that neither of them ever compromised.”

  “So she lost.”

  Lady Alquist nodded. “Men have all the real power, and they wield it at the first sign of trouble. Papa refused to intervene – oh, yes, within the month, she begged him for help. But he’d washed his hands of her.” She shook her head. “The next time I saw her was three years later at Rafe’s christening – he was such a darling baby, and well worth the scold.”

  Helen raised her brows.

  “I slipped away from school while your mother covered for me.” She giggled. “Such a to-do when they found me gone, but I had to see Catherine. Her letters had grown quite frantic. Mostly a hum, though. Hillcrest might be cold and autocratic, and he never gave in to her demands, but he treated her well enough otherwise. She had her gardens and hothouse as well as adequate food, clothing, and shelter. With a little effort, she could have built quite a congenial life. But she refused to give in on the least point. It made me fear that Rafe would be caught in their struggle for power. And so he was.”

  At least this explained Rafe’s stubbornness. It hadn’t all been wine. Like both parents, once he got an idea into his head, he refused to give it up – marriage, pampering her wound, investigating Alquist’s death…

  He was occasionally susceptible to logic, though. Or seemed to be. Only time would tell if he was pretending so she would drop her guard.

  Lady Alquist accepted more coffee. “As for Hillcrest, you need to know that he is incapable of any strong emotion except fury. Some people cannot love, though it is an easily disguised fault. Emotional displays are disparaged in our class.”

  “So Mother claimed when we discussed my Season.” Helen pushed her plate aside.

  “Dear Fanny.” Lady Alquist smiled. “She never quite mastered ennui.”

  “I know. She told hilarious stories about your school days – giggles during deportment, pranks on the dancing master—”

  “Ah. I’d nearly forgotten the dancing master – such a short little man. Even at fifteen, Fanny towered over him. How he hated it when we crowded round to pelt him with questions. Fanny was especially adept at tying his tongue in knots. Laughter was so easy for her.” Her smile faded. “But not for Hillcrest. I don’t think the man has laughed once in all the years I’ve known him. Nor is he capable of love. Because Rafe was Catherine’s from birth, Hillcrest rejected him. By favoring his mother, Rafe neglected his duty to his father, so he had to be punished. Catherine’s attempts to protect him made matters worse.”

  “But she has been dead for ten years.”

  “In body.” Lady Alquist sighed. “But her spirit lives on. Rafe won’t repudiate her, which keeps the battle alive. And Hillcrest prefers that. He sees any retreat as surrender. So he keeps fighting. In his eyes Rafe has become Catherine and thus must return home and dutifully accede to Hillcrest’s demands – including that he wed Alice Pauling, since that was the last battle before Catherine died.”

  “Surely Rafe could end the war by conceding something.”

  “I doubt it. Only complete victory will satisfy the man. So much of his character is tied to the b
attle that he would cease to exist without it. Sad.”

  “Very. And Rafe seems just as stubborn.”

  “Not quite. He sees nothing dishonorable in retreat. Living in London lets him ignore Hillcrest entirely. As a result, his character is more balanced.”

  In public perhaps, but that was only a façade. She was beginning to recognize the fury and frustration seething inside him – not that she had any idea how to subdue it. What would happen if he turned it on her?

  But beyond that was her fear that he would become the same sort of husband as Hillcrest – children usually resembled their parents. An instinct to command rather than discuss had already surfaced more than once. Or he might fall back on his London persona, with all its attendant lies and secrecy. She needed more. Love was unlikely, but they could at least attain honest cooperation – she hoped.

  Lady Hillcrest shook her head. “Set it aside, Helen. Rafe will never subject you to the indignities his mother suffered. He will make you a husband at least as dear as Alquist.” She sniffed. “I was so fortunate to find him. And marriage was so joyous that I made sure dear Fanny was happy, too. I introduced her to Arthur, you know.”

  “So she said.” But talk of happy unions revived an earlier fear. She met Lady Alquist’s eye. “You claim Rafe’s confrontations with Hillcrest are a habit he can’t break because he knows nothing else. So did he refuse Alice because he wasn’t interested or because Hillcrest demanded the match?”

  Lady Alquist flinched, dropping her cup on the floor. Her face twisted in distress. “I don’t know, Helen. He has always sworn disinterest, but I truly don’t know. Refusing Hillcrest’s demands is automatic, I fear.” She shook her head. “Why do you ask?”

  “He makes a romantic tale of whisking me to the altar because he recognized his perfect wife. And that tale is essential for town if we are to avoid scandal. But in truth, he was drunk as a lord and reeling from his latest battle over Alice. For years he has been obsessed with securing his financial independence. I have a fortune.”

  But Lady Alquist was already shaking her head. “Rafe would never wed a fortune, not after watching his parents quarrel over money every day of his life. Catherine threw her dowry in Hillcrest’s face in every battle, reminding him who had rescued his inheritance and delivered him from poverty. She demanded concessions in return, which he never allowed. Money, even more than power, fueled their feud. Hillcrest tried to control Rafe with money, too. So Rafe learned early on that money was essential, but only if it was indisputably his own. He claims Hillcrest created his own hell by wedding a fortune and has long sworn that he would never accept a wife who had a dowry. If he’d known about your inheritance, he would have fled as far and as fast as possible.”

  “If? He’s my guardian.”

  “But Alquist never told anyone about your trust. You would have been hounded by fortune hunters. Even Arthur hid much of his wealth lest Steven become more importunate. Alquist was amazed when he learned the extent of your inheritance.”

  Helen nodded, relieved. If Lady Alquist was right, she must banish the instincts implanted by her father, which wouldn’t be easy. “Tell me about Rafe,” she begged. “Good and bad. He is reluctant to discuss his past, and I’ve no one else I can ask.”

  “You’ve heard the rumors, I take it.”

  Helen nodded.

  “Ignore them. Most are exaggerations of incidents that happened ten years ago. If Hillcrest didn’t keep them alive by decrying Rafe at every opportunity, they would have died long since.”

  “That’s what Rafe said.”

  “Listen to him. Gaming was his way of escaping Hillcrest’s financial blackmail, but he quit after winning a large sum just after Catherine died. He’s parlayed that windfall into a respectable fortune.”

  “I wonder how the loser felt.”

  Lady Alquist waved a hand. “Naturally, he was unhappy – the loss put him deeply in debt. And though it was his own fault, he still bears a grudge and vies with Rafe at every opportunity. Some men never grow beyond childish spite. He started half the rumors – like that idiocy about dueling over the fair Lydia. All nonsense, of course, but he has never accepted responsibility for his own stupidity.”

  Lydia? Helen clenched her fists under the table.

  “Forget the rumors, Helen.” Lady Alquist was still prattling. “They arise from envy of a man who lives life to the fullest. Rafe ignores them. After growing up with Hillcrest’s censure, society’s exaggerations don’t faze him.”

  “He sounds more like his mother than you claimed.”

  “They are very like. But their differences are important. Catherine held no real convictions. She would fight tooth and nail, but her goal was to defeat her opponent, not uphold any particular belief. If Hillcrest had exhibited the least sense, he could have controlled her easily, for she always did the opposite of what he demanded. In contrast, Rafe knows what he wants. His arguments support his principles. His behavior conforms to his code of honor. Thus he never lies, never cheats, and never harms others, even when doing so could benefit him. He enjoys debate, but if logic convinces him he is wrong, he will admit it.”

  “Thank you.”

  Not that she accepted the statement in its entirety. Every gentleman she knew lied in the name of honor or to protect his family and reputation. Even her father had lied when necessary to achieve a goal. Rafe would be no different. And while he displayed many characteristics she admired, when it came to Hillcrest, he doubtless fought with the same blind determination as his mother. That battle was so engrained that it superseded logic. Even Lady Alquist could not tell whether he loved Alice.

  High stakes could also prompt uncharacteristic behavior – as Steven’s recent excesses proved. Her fortune had driven Steven far beyond his usual reckless gaming. She feared it was large enough to tempt even a man who decried wedding money, for she was one of the wealthiest individuals in England. Killing her once the fortune was firmly in his hands would prevent it from ever becoming a bone of contention. Rafe had expressed surprise that Steven had not done just that.

  So she must remain wary. Lady Alquist had long ago chosen sides in the Hillcrest war, planting herself firmly behind her sister and Rafe. That must color her perceptions.

  If only she could peer into the recesses of Rafe’s mind. So far he was tiptoeing through the early days of marriage, unwilling to press her. But a stubborn man could not maintain that posture for long. Worse, he had never known a loving family. Could he learn, or would she find herself in the same barren household his mother had known?

  * * * *

  Having eaten early, then gone for a ride, Rafe headed for Alquist’s study. Rhodes was visiting his brother, so it would be some time before they could talk, but the casket of London papers sat on a table beneath the window.

  He pulled out three past-due accounts that must go to the solicitor. Invitations. Condolences. Information on a potential investment. Notes on a speech Alquist had planned for Parliament. A report on the spring planting. Pleas for contributions from three benevolent societies. A preliminary report from a Bow Street runner—

  Rafe stared. The report concerned Steven and Dudley.

  Inv S and D. Not invite. Investigate. “My God.”

  “What?” asked Helen, entering the study.

  Rafe looked up. Her face held more color today, but her eyes remained wary. It hurt. Yet perversely, her distrust did nothing to diminish his desire. Winning her trust was a stimulating challenge. He clasped her hand, raising it to his lips in a courtly gesture that deepened the roses in her cheeks. An answering heat pooled in his groin, but he thrust it down, determined to give her another day to recover so he needn’t think about her head. He could manage one more day.

  Maybe.

  “Alquist was investigating Steven and Dudley,” he said, forcing his mind back to business.

  “It was a reasonable step, undoubtedly arranged after meeting Formsby. He must have recognized Formsby’s weaknesses and feared Steven m
ight be stealing me blind. Alquist never trusted Steven.”

  “I didn’t realize they were acquainted.”

  Her eyes widened in surprise. “Surely you know Alquist’s grandmother was a St. James. He and Papa were second cousins. Alquist sided with Papa after Grandfather died, which drew Steven’s fury. They have been enemies ever since.”

  “Arthur! Damn. I never made the connection.” Stupid. But he and Helen had not been properly introduced. She’d all but fallen out of the sky, with no link to the world he knew, at least none his drunken mind had noticed. Since then, he’d been too busy to consider how she related to that world.

  “What connection?”

  “Alquist often mentioned his cousin Arthur, but never by rank.” The memory triggered another one.

  Cousin Arthur died, Alquist had reported over wine several months earlier.

  My condolences, Rafe replied. He sounded like a fine man.

  And much like you. He is another who built a comfortable income from nothing. He’d gazed into the fire for several silent minutes. He named me guardian to his daughter. She’s a cute little thing – or was when last I saw her.

  Quite a responsibility. Rafe grinned at the image of Alquist raising a little girl with golden curls.

  Not really. She’ll remain with her mother. Another long pause. But I’ll have to name a successor. You would be perfect.

  Rafe had shrugged, which Alquist must have taken for assent. By morning, he’d forgotten that conversation. Alquist had been barely fifty and in excellent health. Even a child in the nursery should have been settled long before he passed on.

  “Alquist’s cousin,” he murmured, shaking his head.

  Helen nodded. “Mama and Lady Alquist attended Miss Harris’s Select Academy for Young Ladies – as did I. Mama would not have met Papa without Lady Alquist’s introduction, for he rarely went about in society in those days.”

  “How is it that you know so little about Alquist if he was family?”