A Suitable Husband

by Fenella Miller

  ‘Thank you, madam. It’s my grandma’s name day next week; could I take that day off, if you please?’

  Sarah nodded. ‘Of course, you must. And have Cook pack you a basket to take with you as a gift.’

  Edward, with guidance, had been spooning cool water into the dog’s open mouth. Then fatigued by so much activity Rags closed his eyes and fell asleep. Edward gasped in horror, believing his dog had lapsed into unconsciousness again. Oliver squeezed the boy’s shoulder reassuringly.

  ‘Don’t worry, Edward. He’s only sleeping. Look, see how his chest’s moving? He needs to rest now, but I promise you, he will be as good as new by morning.’

  ‘I’ll sit with him all night, Master Edward, don’t you fret. If he needs anything, I’ll be right here to fetch it.’

  ‘Thank you, Elsie.’ Edward ran forward and hugged the girl. ‘Rags and I will always remember how you took care of him.’

  Chatting happily, Edward led the way back through the narrow passageways, upstairs to his usual domain. He went willingly to find Sally, who was waiting in the freshly scrubbed nursery,

  on the understanding that he would be sent for when it was time to dine. The adults needed to converse in private.

  Oliver closed the study door and waited politely for Sarah to seat herself. ‘I have discovered how the substitution was made, but not, unfortunately by whom it was done.’

  “Tell me, how did they do it?’

  ‘An under-footman was sent, in a pony cart, to deliver several parcels to various deserving cases in the village. He came here last; the cart was left unattended whilst he delivered the baskets. It would have been possible to exchange the gingerbread at any one of those stops.’

  ‘And no one saw anything? One would think a stranger rummaging in Lord Hepworth’s pony cart might have been noticed. Good heavens, there are more gossips in this village than anywhere else in England.’

  He chuckled. ‘Unfortunately they must all have been looking elsewhere today. I’ve also discovered Edward’s passion for gingerbread men is well-known. It appears he would always gravitate to the cake stall at any village fair.’

  ‘It is quite true. I should have thought of that for myself.’ She smiled. ‘At least we no longer need to suspect anyone of betraying us. That is a relief.’

  ‘I have also spoken to the Reverend Murray. He’s naturally overjoyed at our news and will arrange to have the banns called. Have you your letters written?’

  ‘Almost. I will finish them before dinner and Jack can take them over to Hepworth House. It is a good thing the nights are lighter now, I would not wish him to be out in the dark.’

  Sarah closed her eyes for a moment, lost in thought. If she was to be married in six weeks she would have to meet with her lawyers immediately. Once the vows were spoken she would no longer have control of her properties or money, all of it would become her husband’s responsibility. She had to take the necessary steps to protect both Edward’s and her own financial future in the unlikely event that Oliver should turn out to be a gambler, or worse.

  She sat up. She must go to London as soon as possible. He could pursue his inquiries more easily in the capital and she could get her financial affairs in order. ‘I intend to travel to Town, as soon as I am declared well enough. Edward can accompany me’

  The announcement was greeted with incredulity. ‘Have you run mad, Sarah? There is a maniac on the loose and you want to leave the safety of your home?’

  ‘I believe we will be as safe, or perhaps safer, away from here. If your riflemen come with us we will be well protected on the journey. Surely it will be harder for the person to get near to us in Town?’

  Oliver scowled. ‘Why do you wish to travel now? Why not wait until we’ve discovered why someone wishes you dead?’

  ‘I have to see my lawyers, and it will not wait. And I am sure it will be easier for you to speak to your investigators in person rather than relying on written messages.’

  He stared at Sarah, his eyes narrowed, his expression hard. ‘I know why you wish to see your lawyers. You’re protecting your assets, are you not? You don’t trust me to use your fortune wisely.’

  Sarah felt revealing colour flush her cheeks. She stood up, embarrassment and guilt making her speak unwisely. ‘Yes, of course that is why I am going. Do you blame me? I know nothing of you, apart from what you have told me. How would Lady Hepworth feel if I allowed Edward’s fortune to be gambled away?’

  ‘God’s teeth!’ Oliver swore, his manners forgotten. ‘If that’s how you feel why in God’s name are you marrying me?’

  Sarah tried to remain composed in the face of his anger. ‘I am doing so because Edward loves you and you will make him an excellent father. And I do not wish him to remain an only child.’

  The force with which the door slammed behind him almost lifted her from her feet.

  Chapter Eleven

  The silence that followed Oliver explosive exit gave Sarah time to gather her scattered wits. Should she ran after him and apologize or let him recover his temper first? Undecided, she paced the room, the speed of her passage swirling her skirts and threatening to remove the newspapers from the desktop.

  Then she stopped. She had quite forgotten they had promised Edward he could join them for dinner. She had never broken her word to her son and would not do so now. Swallowing hard, with clammy palms but straight back, she hurried from the room in search of Oliver. She met Jack in the hallway.

  ‘Have you seen the captain, Jack? I wish to speak to him.’

  Jack’s face went pale. ‘I have, madam, but he’s in a fearful temper. He near scared me half to death when he went past.’

  ‘I am not asking you to find him, Jack. I merely wish to know where he is at this moment.’

  Relieved the youth smiled nervously. ‘He was heading for the Dower House and the speed he was moving I reckon he’s there by now.’

  Sarah frowned. Should she risk further acerbating the situation by defying his explicit orders not to leave the house, or disappoint her son? She had no choice. ‘Are the riflemen about, Jack?’

  ‘Yes, madam; they’re all over the park.’

  ‘Excellent. I am going to the Dower House, would you fetch Sam from the stables, must both accompany me.’ With Sam, Jack, and the riflemen in the woods, she should be safe enough.

  Jack ran off to fetch the under-groom and Sarah returned to her room to change from her slippers to stout boots. The walk was over a mile and she had no desire to acquire blisters on her journey.

  Her escorts were waiting for her on the drive when she returned. Determined to complete the walk in as shorter time as possible Sarah set off at a brisk pace. She had travelled scarcely one hundred yards when there was the sound of running feet approaching.

  ‘Excuse me, madam. You must not go in there.’ Two neatly dressed men, carrying well serviced rifles, halted with military precision beside her.

  ‘I am going to the Dower House. It is imperative that I speak with Captain Mayhew immediately.’

  The taller man stepped politely in front of her. ‘I’m sorry, madam, we have our orders. You are to stay within sight of the house at all times. If you return I will send a runner to fetch the captain back.’

  Sarah admitted defeat. ‘Very well. But please stress to the captain how important it is he returns at once.’

  Sarah heard the man whistle and a third, younger, but equally well-armed ex-soldier, trotted up, nodded and jogged off down the path she had been about to take herself.

  There was no more she could do. She doubted Oliver, in his present frame of mind, would answer her summons to return.

  ***

  Oliver was not at the Dower House, he had changed his mind and doubled back, cutting through the woods, and was venting his spleen by hurling stones into the lake. The satisfactory spl
ashes began to have the desired effect and slowly his choler dissipated. He gazed morosely across the sparkling water watching the offended water birds slowly return to their positions bobbing on the surface.

  His mind was in a turmoil. He could not understand why he became so enraged by Sarah’s idiotic outbursts. She was a woman, after all, and in his limited experience of the fairer sex he had not found them particularly rational in their outlook. His objective had been achieved; he had taken the position at Rowley Court with the express intention of charming Sarah into marriage. Did it really matter she had pre-empted him?

  He smiled. He understood, now, how the new debutantes must feel as they were paraded, like brood mares, by their ambitious mother’s at Almack’s every season. It was not a comfortable feeling being selected for one’s breeding qualities.

  He yawned and ran his hand idly down his jaw, glad this evening he would not need to shave again, as he had no intention of dining with Sarah. Then he remembered the promise to Edward and swore. He kicked viciously at a boulder. The resulting agony that shot down his injured toes made him swear again. He was a man who kept his word and he would have to swallow his pride and return to the house.

  He stamped his damaged foot experimentally and his features relaxed into a grin. He supposed he must get used to taking solitary promenades if he was to shackle himself to Sarah. But woe betide her if she angered him again today: he would not be answerable for the consequences!

  He was strolling back when he saw two of his men approaching at the double. His stomach lurched. The dog had died, it could be nothing else, and Sarah could not bear to break the news to Edward. He broke into a run and met the riflemen halfway. ‘Out with it, Smith. What’s happened?’

  ‘Mrs Haverstock wishes to speak with you urgently, sir. We intercepted her on her way to the Dower House. We have been searching for you this past half-hour, Captain.’

  Oliver continued at a run, dreading the task before him. He loved Edward and did not wish to see him hurt.

  ***

  Sarah looked at the clock for the tenth time and resigned herself to the unpalatable fact Oliver was not coming. Edward was going to be disappointed but it could not be helped. She must return to her rooms and change. She had given Sally instructions to dress Edward in his best; she could do no less herself.

  She was halfway up the stairway when the side door crashed open and booted feet thundered down the passage towards the study. Alarmed, she flew back down the stairs to the hall and ran, skirts held high, her heart pounding.

  They arrived simultaneously at the study door. To avoid a collision Oliver was forced to halt so suddenly his feet shot forward in his boots and his injured toes were painfully squashed again. He barely managed to swallow his oath. He hobbled after Sarah into the study.

  ‘I am so sorry, Sarah. Edward will be devastated.’ Sarah’s blank look made him pause. ‘Rags? You sent for me because he has died.’

  Sarah knew she was in trouble. She had made her summons unnecessarily urgent so it was small wonder he had made an erroneous assumption. ‘I am sorry, Oliver, there has been a misunderstanding. Rags is not dead. I only wished to remind you of your promise to dine with Edward tonight.’ She shifted nervously, and fiddled with her sash, unwilling to meet his eyes. She could hear him breathing heavily, but still the storm did not break over her bowed head. Puzzled, she risked a glance up and, to her astonishment, saw he was having difficulty containing his amusement.

  ‘You are incorrigible, Sarah, my love; I am in two minds whether to put you over my knee or….’ His words died away and she saw the predatory gleam in his eye and felt her heart skip a beat.

  She raised her hand, not sure if she would prefer a spanking to the alternative he had in mind. Oliver reached out and her hand disappeared in his; then she was yanked forward unceremoniously and all but fell into his waiting arms.

  ‘You are a sore trial to me, my dear; what do you suggest I do about it?’ His words were barely audible but sent a frisson of fear, or was it excitement, down her spine. Then, instead of the expected searing kiss, he laughed out loud and swung her round; making her head spin and her skirts swirl indecorously above her ankles. Replacing her, none too gently, on her feet, he stepped back, holding her at arm’s length.

  Thoroughly flustered Sarah watched him, unsure what he would do next. He grinned, obviously enjoying her discomfiture. He gave her a little shake before dropping his hands. Sarah hastily put a chair between them before risking her reply.

  ‘I am sorry if I misled you, Oliver, that was not my intention’

  ‘I am sure it was not,’ he answered, his expression bland.

  ‘I was frightened too, when I heard you racing down the passage.’

  ‘Good; it was no more than you deserve. Your stupidity involved my men in unnecessary work and caused me to run all the way from the lake.’

  Enough was enough! Sarah was indignant. ‘Do not call me stupid. I am not one of your men to be so casually insulted.’

  ‘You may be grateful you are not, my girl. I have had men flogged for less.’ She did not see the glint in his eyes as he spoke.

  She gasped. ‘But that is disgraceful! How could you be so cruel?’

  ‘Cut rope, Sarah. It was a joke. Do you honestly think I am the sort of officer who flogged his men?’

  Shamefaced Sarah blushed. ‘Oh, no, of course not.’ She quickly changed the subject. ‘You are staying for dinner, are you not, Oliver?’

  He groaned and turned, pretending to bang his head in frustration on the wall. Sarah stamped her foot. ‘What is the matter with you, Oliver? You are behaving like a child.’

  He turned back to face her, shaking his head and tutting at her in the most annoying way. ‘If you do not desist, I will strike you,’ she shouted at him, her patience at an end.

  He stepped in, fast, until he was a hand’s width away. ‘Go ahead, Sarah. But I warn you I shall retaliate.’

  Sarah felt the heat pulsing from him and every instinct urged her to retreat. But she could not; her feet remained rooted to the floor. Instead she tipped her head, rested her hands on his shoulders, stretched up and pressed a soft kiss on his parted lips. Before he could react she skipped out of reach and he heard her tinkling laughter as she ran back along the corridor and away upstairs to change for dinner.

  ***

  Tentatively he ran his tongue over his lips and tasted the sweetness she had left behind. ‘God damn it! That woman is as random as a weather-vane!’ He shook his head in disbelief that, once again, he had been wrong-footed and his intended bride had taken the honours. He stomped off, as surly as a schoolboy but already plotting her come-uppance. Reluctantly he felt a bubble of mirth fighting to escape and chuckling to himself he bounded up the steps two at a time.

  It was then he admitted he was enjoying his regular spats with Sarah. Indeed he was already eagerly anticipating their next encounter. At least being married to such a woman his life would never be dull.

  ***

  Dinner a trois was a great success. Oliver sat at the head of the table, Edward to his right, Sarah to his left. Cook presented a simple repast prepared especially for Edward’s childish palette. By the last remove, of sugared fruit, a blanc-manger and a bowl of sliced pineapple from Lord Hepworth’s hot house Edward was wilting.

  ‘It is time for you to go up, my love. Sally is waiting to put you to bed.’

  ‘Yes, Mama. Thank you for allowing me to stay.’ His head nodded and his elbow slipped from the table noisily.

  ‘I’ll carry him up. He’s asleep on his feet.’ Oliver didn’t wait for her consent. He pulled Edward’s chair back and lifted him. ‘I’ll join you in the drawing-room. Don’t go up: I wish to talk to you.’

  He was gone, her son in his arms as though he owned him, before Sarah could answer. She was sorely tempted to ignore his words an
d creep off to bed but did not trust him not to follow her and she well knew where such a visit could lead.

  She drifted from the table into the connecting drawing-room. The terrace windows were still open and the room was pleasantly cool. The lamps were lit and made pretty pools of golden light on the surfaces upon which they rested. Sarah had no candles downstairs, believing oil lamps were safer when there was a child in the house.

  She paused in front of the mantle to adjust the décolletage of her dinner gown. She pushed a stray strand of hair back into the simple chignon she wore at the base of her neck. She stared at her reflection critically. Did she look any different, for she believed she must? Her blood seemed to be fizzing round her veins; she had never felt so alive. Danger was obviously agreeing with her.

  Her eyes sparkled with excitement and the embroidered bodice of her russet silk gown was tight and made her long to remove it and replace it with something less restrictive. Not wishing to be caught preening at the mirror she walked down the room and out onto the terrace. The moon was small and the night dark. She saw a flicker of movement by the yew hedge which made her jump.

  A cheerful voice called out. ‘Good evening, Mrs Haverstock. Lovely night.’

  Relieved, she replied. ‘Good evening, Jenkins. Are you stationed there all night?’

  ‘Yes, madam. There will be someone here until dawn.’

  Light footsteps approaching from behind her indicated Oliver was back. She spoke without turning. ‘When do the men sleep if they are working both day and night?’

  ‘They have six hours on, six off; that way I always have enough men on duty.’ He answered from a position so close behind her she felt the hairs on the back of her neck tingle. She stepped forward but he followed and this time he put his arms around her waist and held her lightly, making further movement impossible.

  ‘Stop fighting me, sweetheart. You’re to be my bride in a few weeks. It’s time we got to know each other more intimately.’ As he was speaking he slowly tightened his arms until she was pressed hard against his chest.