Captain Fawley's Innocent Bride

by Annie Burrows

  ‘The connection is there. You heard what Miss Lampton told us when we drew up the original will—’

  ‘Excuse me,’ Deborah said, rising to her feet, her pulse tumultuous with agitation. ‘But I am quite able to vouch for my suitability to marry any man I choose,’ she said, addressing the plump lawyer. ‘My mother is granddaughter to the Earl of Plymstock, through the female line. You may check her lineage in Collin’s Peerage. My father was a Gillies of Hertfordshire. Again, check away as meticulously as you please. Third son of Reginald and Lucinda Gillies, of Upshott. Not perhaps a noble family, but old.’

  She drew in an indignant breath. Not only had Captain Fawley been dishonest in the manner of his proposal, but he had exposed her to this piece of impertinence!

  ‘You may also investigate as long as you please, and you will discover I have never done anything that would give anyone any justification for claiming I was not completely respectable. My father was a man of the cloth. As his child, he taught me how important it was not to let him down by so much as an unseemly gesture. Go and inquire in the town of Lower Wakering, where I grew up. You will not find anybody who could cast an aspersion on my moral rectitude. And as for the other matter, yes, I am of age! At my last prayers, in fact,’ she said, her face twisting with bitterness as she recalled that it was precisely this fact Captain Fawley had used to lure her into what he thought was her last chance of ever marrying. ‘And do I marry Captain Fawley of my own free will?’

  She whirled round to glare at him. She felt humiliated, used, deceived. He held her regard without the slightest sign of guilt or remorse. There was only what might have been interpreted as a slightly mocking challenge in his eyes.

  Trust him, the Countess had urged her. Do not side with his enemies.

  She swallowed. Furious as she was with him, right at this moment, could she really back out of this horrible tangle, having come this far? Would he not see it as a betrayal, far worse than anything that had been done to him to date? He would regard her as an enemy. He would hate her.

  Shaking with impotent fury, she turned back to the lawyers, who were awaiting her answer with quills poised.

  ‘Yes,’ she croaked, her voice clogged with emotion. She cleared her throat. ‘If I do not marry him, I shall not marry anyone,’ she declared firmly.

  Then, her eyes full of humiliated tears, she whirled from the room and stumbled down the stairs into the dusty street. Leaning against the wall, her forehead grinding into the brickwork, she fought to regain her composure.

  What was she doing, allying herself to a man who could deceive her, use her without regard for her feelings? Condemning herself to a lifetime of hurt, that was what!

  ‘Miss Gillies!’ She blinked as the Walton coach drew up at the kerb, and the countess leaned out, her face puckered with concern.

  ‘Miss Gillies!’ She heard another voice, a masculine voice, calling her from within the lawyer’s offices. Captain Fawley must be making his way down the stairs, of necessity slowly and carefully.

  A footman jumped down from the box and opened the carriage door for her. She strode across the pavement and got in.

  ‘Where is Robert?’ the Countess asked, peering behind her.

  ‘I don’t think we ought to be seen together, do you?’ Deborah said, on a flash of inspiration. ‘Wouldn’t want to give the game away!’ she finished bitterly.

  The Countess’s face lit up. Clapping her hands, she gave the order for the coach to set off.

  Just as Robert emerged from the doorway, his face as dark as a thundercloud.

  Chapter Five

  ‘Oh, isn’t the Countess coming in?’ Susannah wailed in disappointment as the Walton carriage pulled away the moment Deborah had entered her front door. ‘I was so hoping to meet her. What is she like? Where did you go? You have been an age, and I am dying with curiosity!’

  ‘She is rather like a small, determined whirlwind,’ Deborah answered, thinking it typical of Susannah to display that unfamiliar emotion on a day she was least willing to satisfy it. ‘She whisked me off in her coach without waiting for a proper introduction to you both. I am so sorry,’ she said, joining her mother and Susannah in the front parlour, where they were partaking of a light nuncheon. ‘But I did not like to keep her ladyship waiting….’

  ‘That is quite all right, my dear,’ Mrs Gillies replied, pouring her a cup of tea. ‘Since she is French, we cannot expect the same standards in her manners as if she had been brought up properly, can we?’

  ‘I have been consumed with jealousy all morning!’ said Susannah, heaping ham on to the plate in Deborah’s place setting.

  ‘Jealous? You?’ she gasped, taking her seat at table.

  ‘Yes! It is one thing having men dangling after one. But what really gets one into society is to make a friend of some influential or aristocratic female.’ She placed a slice of bread and butter to Deborah’s plate, adding, ‘I don’t blame you for dropping everything and dashing off after her. If she takes you up, you will be made.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Mrs Gillies interposed. ‘She is not exactly a leader of fashion. And she will not be much use to Deborah after another month or so anyway, since she is increasing.’

  Deborah paused in the act of lifting a slice of ham to her lips, a troubled frown knotting her brow.

  ‘One does not just make friends that can be of use, surely!’ she protested. She had never liked this side of Susannah’s nature, and was appalled to hear her mother speaking of connections in similar terms.

  ‘But it is always a point to take into consideration,’ said Susannah, popping a slice of tomato into her mouth. ‘You are too unworldly for your own good, sometimes.’

  ‘Unless…she may be looking for a companion to go with her, when she has to return to her country estate for the lying in,’ Mrs Gillies pondered. ‘Her husband is bound to insist his heir is born at Wycke, and I have heard that she detests the place. She grew up in Paris, you see, in such exciting times, and finds the countryside tedious.’

  ‘Oh!’ cried Susannah. ‘Perhaps, if she does take a fancy to you, she will take you with her, to keep her amused.’

  ‘Like a pet monkey,’ Deborah remarked sourly.

  Susannah began to giggle.

  ‘I can just see you in a little knitted c-cap, with a Spanish j-jacket, like the one we saw dancing in the park that day….’

  Her mother’s mouth, too, twitched with amusement and from then on, by applying a little ingenuity, Deborah was able to ensure that the conversation never returned to exactly how she had spent her morning. By the time they rose from the table, her mother was ready to take her afternoon nap, and Susannah declared she simply had to write to her parents, since she had not done so for two days.

  Deborah escaped to her room with a feeling of profound relief.

  It did not last long.

  Once she was on her own, there was nothing to prevent her from dwelling on what a dreadful situation she had got herself into. She had known it would be quite wrong to turn Captain Fawley down in the lawyer’s office, while she was so angry with him. She needed to consider the situation rather more dispassionately, and make the decision which would affect her whole future, with a clear head. Concentrating her mind on fielding Susannah’s curiosity had certainly helped her to calm down somewhat, but now she was alone, and free to think as she would, all her doubts and anxieties came flooding back with a vengeance.

  Could she really marry a man who showed so little regard for her, who was embroiling her in some scheme about which she had the deepest suspicions?

  She sank on her bedside chair, her head in her hands.

  No, the real question was, could she live with herself if she spurned him? It hardly mattered what had motivated him to ask for her hand, even though she now had some evidence to suggest he was using her as an unwitting accomplice in snatching a legacy from some person. Some person that she refused to assume was Percy Lampton. That would be too dreadful a coincidence.

/>   Oh, how she wished she had not promised to keep the whole matter from her mother! She would have known all about the family connections, and been able to give a name to the poor wretch who was expecting to inherit the property she and Captain Fawley were about to…steal from him. It amounted to that!

  Though…the cross-looking lawyer had said that the lady who had died had wanted everything to go to Captain Fawley to begin with. So she was not stealing anything from anybody. She was only helping to fulfil the dying wishes of a poor elderly lady with no children of her own….

  She sat up, pushing a stray wisp of hair from her forehead. She had only a few hours to make her mind up about what she should do. During the carriage ride home, Lady Walton had informed her that the marriage was going to take place that very evening, at six of the clock, in the library of Walton House.

  While everyone who aspired to be fashionable was promenading round Hyde Park, she would be sneaking into a private room, to take part in a clandestine marriage, which would rob some other poor fellow of a substantial inheritance.

  It was morally repugnant!

  She got to her feet and paced to the window.

  Yet how could she back out? If she refused to go along with Captain Fawley’s plan, he would be the poor fellow who had his inheritance snatched from his grasp. She paced back to the chair.

  Perhaps the issue was not so bad as she was imagining. Lady Walton had said she should trust Robert.

  Robert. Hot jealousy had her pacing back to the window, her fists clenched at her side. Lady Walton called him Robert. She had not even known it was his given name, until she had prattled on about all the confidences he had shared with her! It would serve him right if she did jilt him!

  No, no, it wouldn’t, she gasped, searing pain almost doubling her over as she thought of the effect such an act would have upon him. Jilting him would wound him irreparably. How hard it had been, Lady Walton had said, for him to beg a woman for a dance, let alone for her hand in marriage! He would not understand why she had refused him. He would think it was because he was too deformed, even for a woman as desperate as her, to marry!

  She could not do it to him.

  She did not want to hurt anyone.

  She paced back to the chair, sat down and wrapped her arms round her waist. Since somebody was clearly going to lose out because of the actions she took today, she would rather it was this faceless, nameless nephew, than Captain Fawley.

  And even if the other legatee of the will turned out to be Percy Lampton, as she suspected…well, she had never liked him. In fact, she wouldn’t put it past him to have sought Susannah out on purpose to prevent things from progressing to the point where Captain Fawley might have proposed to her. He had already lived with the unnecessary stigma of illegitimacy all his life because of the Lamptons’ lies! And now, they were trying to prevent him from inheriting his own fortune.

  She was not going to side with them. She was on Captain Fawley’s side, no matter what!

  Getting to her feet, she stomped to the wardrobe and yanked open its doors. Now, what kind of dress did she have that would be suitable for taking part in a clandestine wedding?

  * * *

  No sooner had Susannah set out for her ride round Hyde Park in Percy Lampton’s high-perch phaeton, than Deborah urged her mother to get her bonnet and pelisse on.

  ‘The Countess is returning for us both,’ she explained. ‘She is going to take us to Walton House….’

  ‘And she did not want to include Susannah in the invitation?’ Mrs Gillies frowned. ‘Is her husband so high in the instep that he will not admit someone from her background into his home? I do not think I wish to encourage you in this friendship, if that is the case.’

  ‘No, no, Mother, that is not it at all. Only please hurry to get ready, and I shall explain it all on the way.’ She cast a significant look in the direction of the butler who came with the house, and Mrs Gillies subsided at once.

  They waited for the Countess to arrive in tense silence. When the Walton town coach finally drew up outside their door, Deborah was surprised by a sharp pain that shot across the back of her hand as she leapt to her feet. Looking down, she saw she had been twisting the strings of her reticule so tightly they were cutting through her gloves into her flesh.

  Lady Walton beamed at them as they scrambled into the coach before her footman even had time to climb their front steps and knock on the door.

  ‘Oh, I am so glad you have decided after all to come! Robert has been in the state most terrible since this morning after that he came home from the lawyers. He said you were so cross, you would not go through with it. But I knew you would come! For you love him enough to forgive him anything, is that not so?’

  She turned to Mrs Gillies, who was regarding her with frank amazement.

  ‘Ah, you have not told your mother yet? But, no, since that silly girl who could not see how wonderful Robert is has only just left the house, I suppose you have not had a chance.’

  ‘Er…Mother…’ Deborah began.

  Mrs Gillies made a dismissive sound as she dived into her reticule for a handkerchief. ‘You have decided to marry Captain Fawley, after all. I am happy for you,’ she said, blowing her nose, ‘if you are happy?’

  ‘Thank you, Mother,’ Deborah fudged, unwilling to admit that right at that moment, she was not at all sure she was going to be happy marrying a man who had so clearly demonstrated how little he valued anything about her, except as a name on a piece of paper.

  ‘I take it we are going to meet with the family and discuss settlements?’ Mrs Gillies got out, stuffing her crumpled handkerchief back into her reticule. ‘Though, really, this sort of thing should be done through a man of business. I am sure Mr Hullworthy would be only too happy to act for you, if you applied to him.’

  Deborah laid her hand firmly on her mother’s sleeve. ‘There will be no need for that. We went to see some lawyers this morning. We are getting married today. Now. In the library at Walton House.’

  ‘But…without a man of business to see to the settlements? Really, Deborah, dear…’

  ‘Mother, I have no dowry, so what good would a lawyer do me?’

  ‘But you cannot have considered what a fragile thing life is. What if he dies and leaves you widowed? He has hardly a penny to his name. Your portion might be so slender that—’

  ‘Mother, you have no need to worry. I told you that we discussed the financial side of things on Tuesday afternoon, did I not? Once I marry Captain Fawley, he will qualify for a substantial property. We will be able to live very comfortably. Indeed, he has even agreed that, should you wish it, you may come and live with us….’

  ‘Oh, the dear boy!’ Mrs Gillies cried, digging her handkerchief out of her reticule once again. ‘So long as it is not entailed, this property?’ she said sharply, crushing the damp piece of lace between her arthritic fingers.

  Deborah saw that she had taken a great deal on trust. Far too much. She had no idea what kind of allowance Captain Fawley was likely to settle on her, nor how she would fare should she indeed be widowed. Not bringing in some man of business to negotiate all these points had been extremely foolish of her. But she was not about to burden her mother with her doubts.

  ‘I am sure there is no need to worry about anything, Mother. We can trust Captain Fawley to do the right thing.’ She only wished she could have felt the conviction she tried to put into her words. She was almost positive he was not doing the right thing, in marrying her secretly this afternoon.

  Lady Walton, who had been watching them both, her beady eyes flicking from one to the other as she followed the conversation, clapped her hands, beaming at Deborah.

  ‘Of course you may trust Robert! He may not have the polished manners of so many of the men who think themselves so attractive, but he has what they have not. The integrity. Yes, and the courage to fight for what is rightfully his!’

  To fight for what was rightfully his. Yes, Deborah mused, settling back into the luxur
iously soft leather squabs, that was what he was doing this afternoon. Lady Walton clearly knew all the details in regard to this inheritance, and regarded it as a just fight.

  Perhaps it was understandable that he had not taken her fully into his confidence. He did not know her all that well. Besides, what was it Lady Walton had blurted out, earlier, on the way to visit the lawyers? That men sometimes did not explain why they were acting in a way that might be interpreted as a bit questionable, in an attempt to protect their women. She certainly had moral qualms about what she was doing. Had he been trying to protect her from going into a questionable situation, to spare her conscience?

  A warm glow began to melt the knot of ice that her insides had become over the past few days. His woman. She was Captain Fawley’s woman. Of course he was attempting to shield her from anxiety. Of course he would provide generously for her. For today, by marrying him, she was going to stand shoulder to shoulder with him in his fight, though he had deliberately kept her ignorant of the details.

  * * *

  By the time they reached Walton House, Deborah was glowing with the kind of happiness any bride might display on her wedding day. Her mother was still dabbing at her eyes as they mounted the front steps, just as the mother of a bride should do. When they went into the hall, one footman produced a fresh handkerchief for her mother, while a second presented her with a posy of roses and honeysuckle. Her heart almost stopped. They had been sitting in an arbour perfumed with roses and honeysuckle when he had proposed to her. He had remembered! Just as he had remembered the colour of the ribbons in her hair the other time he had bought her flowers.

  This time, she did bury her face in the blooms, inhaling their scent with a mounting sense of elation. She drifted through the magnificent hallway in a haze of romantic hopes. It seemed like an omen that the bonnet and gloves she had picked out were the exact shade of pink as the centre of the honeysuckle blooms. How could she fail to love Captain Fawley? Even though he did not return her regard, he was perceptive and considerate. She was sure he would do his utmost to be a good husband to her.