by Janet Woods
‘It will sound more official if you write to my uncle … write “urgent” on the outside, and tell him the matter is strictly private. I will ask Jane Bessant to move into the house to keep the cat company while we’re away. She would do anything for you.’
A tinge of colour stole into his cheeks and he stuttered, ‘That’s nonsense.’
‘Is it? Jane Bessant would make you a perfect wife, and in case you think your children might not approve, we all like her.’
Kissing him lightly on the cheek, she departed to make arrangements for their visit.
Two
King’s Acres, Dorset, 1812
After days of deliberation, Alex LéSayres had made up his mind. ‘I must find myself a wealthy woman to wed. Our finances are in a mess and unless I act now we’ll have to sell land to pay Father’s debts – there’s no other choice.’
His brother, Dominic, keeper of the family fortunes, or what remained of them, gazed at Alex, deferring to his elder brother as the earl and the undisputed head of the LéSayres household. ‘We could sell Howard the property he wants.’
Alex ignored his brother’s grin and dropped his gaze to his scuffed black hessians, wondering when he’d be able to afford a new pair. Eventually he looked up at Dominic. ‘If you’re referring to the King’s Mile, you know what my answer is. John Howard wants to pull down the cottage and erect some damned monstrosity of a house in its place. I’d rather go bare-arsed for life.’
Dominic shrugged. ‘That’s become a distinct possibility, Alex. Bear in mind that the family owes John Howard a great deal of money, and he’s offering a good price for the land.’
They were alike, Alex thought. Olive-skinned, their hair as dark as night. His brother had a quiet if somewhat sinister elegance about him. The difference lay in their eye colour. Alex had inherited the deep blue eyes of his father, while Dominic favoured the calm grey of their mother.
Alex shook his head. ‘He can’t have the King’s Mile. It will have to be something else of value.’
‘Name it?’
‘The family silver.’
‘It’s already gone. George Rattattou accepted it in lieu of cash in payment of Pa’s promissory note. It would have been melted down by now.’
‘The portraits?’
‘Nobody but the LéSayres family wants them and we’re all that’s left of that. We’ve been over and over this, Alex. From now on, whether King’s Acres estate rises or falls is entirely up to us.’
‘Then I must marry … and soon. I’ve quite made up my mind to it.’ Alex tried not to let his disappointment show as he contemplated the lack of responsibility their father had displayed towards his two sons. In life, the late Alexander LéSayres had loved them both, and he’d been proud of them. His fault was the need to gamble, and gamble he had, gradually emptying the house of its treasures. By some miracle he’d managed to hold on to the house and land, and he’d been the most understanding of fathers, though strict.
That thought took the edge from Alex’s anger as he gazed at Dominic. He heaved a sigh. ‘We’ll have to sell the LéSayres jewellery if we’re to clear John Howard’s debt and plant a crop. It must be worth something,’ he said into the ensuing silence.
Dominic reminded him of what he’d forgotten. ‘We can’t. It has to be passed down to the next countess. It’s a tradition, and we promised Father.’
They had promised their father a lot when he’d been on his deathbed. He’d been full of remorse for his shortcomings and had expected his two sons to put matters right.
‘Promises are made to be broken, as Pa demonstrated on many an occasion, and traditions can be changed.’
Dominic’s quick smile took on an ironic edge. ‘Marriage it is then.’
Alex’s eyes narrowed in on him. ‘I don’t like that syrupy tone of voice you’re using, Dom. You have devious moments that bode me no good, and I think this is going to be one of them.’
‘Nonsense, I’m sure my solution to our problem will be perfect for you, especially since you’ve brought the matter up on several occasions. As the new earl, certain behaviours and duties will be expected of you … no more whoring around.’
Devious or not, Dominic did have a good brain for figuring things out, Alex admitted, and although he knew exactly what his brother was going to suggest, he couldn’t help but lead him on. ‘Go on.’
‘We’ll pawn the family jewels – which isn’t actually selling them. That will scrape us up enough money to fit you out decently.’
A pair of shining new hessians marched across Alex’s imagination. ‘Why would I want to be fitted out?’
‘So you can go to London for the season.’
‘A season in London? What am I supposed to do there, dance with a bear in the dung of the market place while the bystanders throw coins into my hat?’
‘That’s where you’ll find yourself a wealthy bride.’
Alex roared with laughter. Then he realized Dom was laughing at him, not with him and his own laughter turned into a growl. ‘That might take some time.’
Dominic gave a faint smile. ‘We’ll have to sacrifice time if we’re to save the estate for the future. You must find a willing maid with a fortune as soon as possible.’
‘Wait a minute … the only person making a sacrifice here is me.’
‘You’re the only one with aristocratic balls,’ Dominic pointed out.
‘So because of that you’re going to put me out to stud. You want me to sell my freedom and be at the beck and call of some quivering innocent who doesn’t know one end of a man from the other?’
‘I’m sure it won’t take you long to educate her on which end of you does what. Many women would give their all to marry an earl and become the Countess LéSayres. You’d only have to service her once a year to breed a brat in your image,’ Dominic pointed out helpfully.
Alex managed a smile. As Dom well knew, the thought of having a family had always appealed to him. But he’d imagined he’d fall in love with a buxom woman of great beauty who would fill the role of Countess LéSayres to perfection, for the family portraits displayed delightfully endowed countesses with satisfied expressions and plump babies clinging to their skirts. The LéSayres men were a lusty-looking lot and the artist had managed to capture the lascivious expressions in their eyes. He sighed. ‘I usually sample the wares without the legalities attached.’
‘I’m not talking about an easy type of woman, but one who places a value on her worth as a wife. Plenty of the ladies in the church cast long, languishing eyes in your direction.’
‘They are either too young and innocent or too old and virtuous.’
Dominic grinned. ‘There speaks the voice of experience. What have you been up to with the ladies of the district, brother?’
‘Mind your own business.’
‘But we are discussing your future nuptials. Apart from money, what quality will you expect from a wife?’
Alex thought for a moment or two. ‘I don’t want to end up with a spinster who’s too plain to attract a man despite having a fortune attached. And neither do I want a dowdy who goes to bed with a lock on her briar patch.’
‘To which lock you will hold the key. Have you ever heard the saying, beggars can’t be choosers?’
He growled, ‘I’m no beggar and I’m aware the more attractive fillies will be encouraged by their mamas to gravitate towards those who can bid the highest for them. She will have to attract me and know her place … and she must not be outspoken. She must be sweet and demure … and … clean. And she must not flirt with other men.’
Dominic chuckled. ‘She doesn’t sound anything like your usual conquests. Don’t underestimate the little ladies on the marriage market. You have good looks, and you’re intelligent enough to attract the right type of female. We’ll ask Eugenie to teach you how to dance and approach a lady, so you don’t need to throw one over your shoulder and carry her off. As for the rest, if your bragging is anything to go by, you certainly know your w
ay round a woman, even a virginal one.’
‘I’m frightened of virgins. Their eyes are wide and innocent and you can see their little hearts beating like wings against their bodices at the wickedly delicious thought of being ravished. When it comes down to it I can’t bring myself to actually spoil the sweet little creatures … then they look all dewy-eyed and disappointed.’
‘When did you become such an expert on women, Alex?’
‘Since I decided to wed five minutes ago.’
‘You knew you were going to have to wed eventually. It might as well be now and at least it’s for a good cause.’
Alex knew his smile was smug when he informed his brother, ‘Get this through your thick head. I’m not going to play the fool, spout flowery poetry, fawn over a woman and lead her to expect something different than what she’d actually get after the marriage service. As for dancing, I already can. The farmer’s wife taught me.’
Dominic managed a thin smile. ‘Yes, I noticed that at the harvest supper. One jug of scrumpy cider and you were hopping about like a frog with its bum on a hot skillet. For an earl, you made a complete bumpkin of yourself. No dignity at all. I think you’re scared of women.’
‘Women are God’s gift to men.’
‘You’ve been scared of them since you dumped that relative of John Howard into the pigsty. And called her Princess Piggy. She climbed out stinking to high heaven and almost in flames, then chased after you with a pitchfork to push you into the duck pond.’
‘She succeeded.’ He grinned as he recalled, ‘She was a skinny dab of a creature, too. I underestimated her aggression. I gave her thruppence to take the blame. She told her uncle it wasn’t my fault, but Pa gave me a thrashing anyway. I settled the matter with a kiss before she went home, and promised to marry her. She was only about twelve, and the poor little idiot believed me.’
‘Perhaps she’s still waiting.’
‘I hope not. Besides, her father was a parson, I think. He probably hasn’t got two beans to rub together.’
‘Wealthy and obedient it is then. I don’t know any woman like that, but I’ll wager my new horse that you can’t catch yourself a wealthy wife.’
Alex thought about that. Dominic’s horse was an elegant gelding he’d recently won in a card game. It was a glossy black creature standing at sixteen hands and in his prime. ‘You’re not twitting me?’
‘I’m not.’
‘All right.’ Alex held out a hand. ‘Let’s shake on it.’
When Dominic took his hand, Alex applied a wrestling throw he’d just learned, and his brother found himself flat on his back.
Alex laughed, but the scowl Dominic offered him was almost admiring as he rose and dusted himself off. He grabbed Alex’s shoulders and they pitted their strength against each other.
Attracted by the laughter and grunts, a pair of family lurchers who’d just finished devouring the entrails of a rabbit for breakfast, lobbed in and joined the melee, tails thrashing about, bodies twisting and tongues drooling all over them.
A sudden deluge of cold water intruded into their fun. The dogs ran off yelping towards the kitchen as if they’d been scalded. The LéSayres brothers emerged from the fray as a duet of shabby but well-built and graceful figures. They gazed towards the minstrel’s gallery.
Alex shook the excess of liquid from the dark locks of his hair and grinned affectionately at the neat figure in a grey gown with its modest lace-edged fichu. Eugenie had a jug in one hand. She looked personable for fifty and she wore one of her contrite expressions.
‘Well aimed, Eugenie, did we wake you?’
‘Sorry gentlemen, the water was meant for the dogs.’
Alex didn’t believe that for one minute. Eugenie had first been their nurse and then their governess. After their mother died in childbirth Eugenie had become their father’s companion. Perhaps she always had been, neither of them knew for certain. What they did know was that their father had loved her. A week before he died, barely two months previously, Eugenie had become Countess LéSayres, for their father had summoned a bishop to his bedside and had refused to die until he’d made an honest woman of her. Eugenie was the nearest thing to a mother they’d ever had, for they couldn’t remember their own, and their father had finally got his wish to make her his wife. Now Alex gazed at her with as much deference as if she were their real mother.
She gave a throaty laugh. ‘You know very well I’m not still in bed at this time of the morning. Stop grinning in that obnoxious manner, Alex. You’re supposed to be getting the carriage hitched to take us to church. We leave in five minutes.’
‘It’s already hitched, My Lady.’ He gave her a sweeping bow and Dominic followed suit.
This time it was Eugenie who grinned, and her voice softened. ‘The pair of you go and tidy yourself up. You’re a disgrace, especially you, Alex. Remember that you’re now the earl and should conduct yourself with dignity if you want to earn respect, especially from that rogue who calls himself your brother.’ She bestowed a fond look on Dominic and the brothers exchanged smiles, secure in the knowledge that Eugenie adored them both.
Dominic blew her a kiss before they scattered in opposite directions.
Alex knew how important this day was to Eugenie. Raking the water from his hair with his fingers, he donned his best jacket, and not for the first time wished he had a pair of decent hessians to wear. He smeared soot into the scuffed leather, polishing the boots as best he could before he joined his brother, who was outside astride his horse … a beautiful creature that would soon be his, if he found a wealthy wife. He had no trouble attracting women, so it couldn’t be too hard.
It was a perfect summer day, the sky blue, the breeze soft and the hedges full of flowers. A song thrush warbled in the trees.
Helping Eugenie into the gig, Alex followed her up and took the reins. They headed sedately towards the church through the winding sun-dappled lanes, his brother, long-legged and lithe, astride his gelding.
Yes, he thought. The time had come when he needed to wed, and his bride must be a wealthy one. It was the right thing to do, for himself, his brother … and for the family name.
His gaze travelled over the soft green countryside. ‘I’ll miss all this when I’m in London,’ he said out loud.
Eugenie’s brown eyes turned his way. ‘You’re considering going to London?’
‘I’ve decided the time has come to find myself a wealthy wife.’
‘It’s not a bad idea. It’s about time you were wed, Alex. You need heirs.’
Knowing he was making a last stand, he said, ‘Last time I looked I had a perfectly worthy earl presumptive in Dominic.’
‘You know very well what I mean. Your father left debts and the estate is nearly bankrupt.’
‘Isn’t it rather unfair to expect some unsuspecting female to marry a pauper and pay off his debts?’
‘No … it’s not fair, but that’s the way things are. Many young women would consider your title worth paying for, and many fathers of means would see the desirability of such a match for his daughter. You’re a handsome lad. Both of you are.’
He laughed. ‘When will you admit that we’re grown men?’
‘You were acting like a couple of unruly pups a few minutes ago.’
‘We tend to lapse back to childhood on occasion, but I really don’t want to be a purchased husband. I want a woman I can feel some affection for.’
‘What makes you think you won’t fall in love with the woman you wed? You’re like your father in that, a born romantic,’ she said. ‘Find a woman who is honest and who you feel easy with. Treat her with kindness and respect. She will respond to that and you will have a solid foundation to build a future on.’
Alex shrugged and picked up speed as the church bells began to ring. Eugenie had loved his father right until the end. He would like the same regard from a woman.
His brother had surged on ahead and Alex picked up speed when the church bells began to ring.
; Eugenie lifted her hand to the crown of the pretty straw hat she wore, anchoring it to her head.
There was a small crowd of people waiting for them to arrive at the church. Alex helped Eugenie down and led her towards the door. There were curtseys bobbed, and murmurs of ‘My Lady’.
They came level with John Howard, a man their father owed a considerable amount of money to. ‘Good morning, Mr Howard. It’s a fine day.’
‘Indeed it is.’ There was a pause in which John Howard nudged his wife.
‘Good morning, My Lord.’ Mary’s gaze raked over Eugenie. Her lips pressed together in a thin line. ‘My Lady.’
Howard took a step to one side. ‘May I present the Reverend Ambrose Fox and his daughter, Miss Fox.’
A pair of jade eyes engaged his directly. ‘I believe the earl and I have met before, Uncle.’
They had? Alex’s brow wrinkled as he wracked his memory.
‘Have you forgotten so easily?’
The little touch of mockery in her voice was annoying, but then she had one of those faces that appeared unremarkable. She smiled, and now he saw that her mouth curved in just the right places, her eyes were wide and beautiful with their long lashes, and all was set in a face of flawless complexion. A pity about the straw bonnet; it didn’t suit her.
He found himself floundering for words. ‘Really … you have me at a disadvantage, Miss Fox. I’m afraid I cannot recall …’
‘Perhaps I should jog your memory a little, My Lord. It was about twelve years ago when you dubbed me the princess of pigs. The ceremony took place in a pigsty.’ More softly she said, ‘Or was it a duck pond?’
Alex nodded, made uncomfortable by her grin, and even more discomforted by the fact he’d been thinking of her just two days before, and now she’d appeared to haunt him like a witch on a broomstick.
‘I believe we were children at the time, Miss Fox.’
‘Ah yes … now you remember.’
‘Only just … I tend to put childish things behind me, Miss Fox. Perhaps you should do the same.’
