The Chaperon Bride (Harlequin Historical)

by Nicola Cornick

  Adam did not move towards her and the light in his grey eyes was brilliant. They threw her a challenge. ‘You have no cause to fear me, Annis. Surely you know that?’

  Annis struggled, with herself, her thoughts and her fears. ‘Marriage is too important for me to embark upon it without the expectation that it would work.’ Her tone rose with feeling. ‘Yet I know so little of you, of your reasons and expectations! I do not know you well at all! This attraction we have between us…this affinity…simply makes matters more difficult.’

  The panic was rising in her and she tried to crush it down, seeking Adam’s gaze, desperate for him to understand. ‘I have told you that my first marriage was unhappy. It made me resolve never to repeat it again—’

  She found she could not quite put into words her fears of being trapped once again in marriage. The horror of such a prospect was so huge that it literally closed her throat. On the one hand she knew that not all men were alike. A small part of her even whispered that Adam would never bully her or make her ill, as John Wycherley had done. Yet somehow she could not get past that mistrust and give him her heart. Not yet. It was too soon and she was too unready.

  She saw the anger go out of Adam’s face and the hard lines soften, and she thought that he was a better man than she deserved. Perhaps in time she would be able to explain the whole to him—but for now this was the best she could do.

  He took her hands in his. ‘Annis, as for my hopes and expectations, they may be summed up quite easily. I truly wish to marry you, and not just to save your reputation or put matters to right in the eyes of the world. If you consent to our marriage, we will have the time to discover more about each other and then your fears may be put to rest.’

  Annis could have wept at his gentleness. She looked up at him. ‘I do not know…’ The words were wrenched from her. ‘I am so very bad at relinquishing control…’

  His eyes filled with tender laughter. ‘You are bossy, my sweet. That is why you were always so good at marshalling those tiresome girls.’

  ‘And then there is your previous marriage to Mary…’ Annis’s voice faltered. She did not wish to forever live in Mary Ashwick’s shadow.

  Adam let her go. ‘One day soon I will tell you about Mary, just as you will tell me the whole about your marriage and the reasons you are so chary to commit to another match.’ He kissed her cheek. ‘Do not look so doleful, my sweet. I am sure that everything will resolve itself in time and for now we had better get on with this business of arranging a wedding.’

  Annis did not say anything else. Adam had offered her his understanding and his patience and she knew that he was being generous to her. It was more than she could have expected. But as for time, that was the one thing that she did not have.

  It was a strange couple of weeks. The banns were read for the first time that weekend and after that Annis felt that there was no going back. Adam had intimated that he would like to invite a few of his closest friends from London to attend the wedding service, and, although Annis was quaking in her boots at the prospect of meeting them all, she agreed that it was only appropriate. Her side of the church would be sparsely populated, with only Sibella, David and their family, Charles, Mrs Hardcastle and the Shepards attending. Lady Ashwick had called her own dressmaker from Harrogate to fashion Annis’s trousseau and the time seemed full of fittings, re-fittings and the choosing of dress materials, from the diaphanous négligées that brought a blush to Annis’s cheek to the day dresses, walking dresses, riding habits and all the other outfits that seemed so essential to a lady. Soon all of Sir Robert Crossley’s money had gone, but Annis was determined not to allow Adam to pay. He had little enough money in all conscience, and Annis was determined that she should not be the one to push him further into debt.

  Eventually, one fine afternoon, she and Adam found the time to play truant from their duties and ride over to Starbeck. Mrs Hardcastle had already been drafted in to wage war on the dirt and the mice and this was the first time that Adam had the opportunity to inspect the property closely.

  ‘It is not so bad,’ he said encouragingly, as together they inspected the broken window frames and peeling walls. ‘Much of the damage is superficial and I am confident that we shall find a tenant once the structural improvements are made and Mrs Hardcastle has had the opportunity to clean it up.’ He smiled at her. ‘Or we could keep it as a love nest for when we wish to escape from Eynhallow…’

  Annis blushed and smiled, but a part of her felt frightened. Starbeck had been her refuge; now that it was to go to Adam on their marriage, it felt as though she had nothing left, no place to hide. She was very quiet as they accepted a tankard each of Mrs Shepard’s cider and wandered outside to drink it in the shade of the garden.

  ‘I hear that the Pensioners were called out again last night to deal with the latest riots,’ Adam said, as they walked slowly down the path into the walled garden, past Starbeck’s small sulphur well and the beautiful brass sundial that Captain Lafoy had brought back from his travels. ‘Apparently they were so old and out of condition that the rioters managed to overpower and disarm them! Ingram is threatening to call the regular troops next time.’ He looked closely at Annis. ‘You are not attending, are you, my love? I could have been speaking a different language for all the sense I am making.’

  Annis sat down on a stone bench in the shade of the apple tree. There was an old summerhouse leaning against one of the walls and in front of it a pool of water supplied from the same spring as the well. The garden was very overgrown now, with roses and cornflowers and honeysuckle all tangling together in the profusion of high summer. It was warm, scented and very peaceful. She stroked the furry head of a snapdragon.

  ‘I beg your pardon, Adam. I was thinking.’

  ‘Of Starbeck?’ Adam came to sit beside her. ‘You will not be losing it, Annis.’

  His quick understanding both impressed and alarmed Annis. She cast him a look under her lashes. ‘No, I know. But it will not be the same.’

  Adam took her hand in his. ‘You are worried because you will have nowhere to run to,’ he said acutely. ‘Why do you think that you will want to run away, Annis?’

  Annis looked at him. His gaze was very deep and dark and she felt a shiver of apprehension. She could not tell him that she could not yet trust herself to him. That would be too hurtful when he had been so patient with her. Besides, the problem was not in him, but in her. And it was not her only concern.

  ‘I know that you were in love with Mary and I am afraid that you will be disappointed in your second choice,’ she blurted out. ‘I could not bear it if our marriage was a pale imitation of what went before.’ She locked her shaking fingers together. ‘Perhaps it is a fault in me, wishing not to be second best, but I would rather we never wed than that we be haunted by memories.’

  The words were out. She waited, trembling inside, for Adam’s reply.

  He did not answer at once, then he stood up and moved a little away from her. ‘I should like to tell you about Mary, if I may, and then you will understand me, Annis. It is very important that there is no misunderstanding.’

  Annis waited.

  ‘I ran away with Mary when she was seventeen and I was eighteen.’ Adam smiled faintly. ‘We knew that my father would never have approved the marriage and neither would Mary’s family. Everyone said that we were too young to know our own minds and that it was a most unsuitable match.’ He shrugged. ‘We knew well enough what we wanted. We ran away to Gretna and our families simply had to accept what we had done. It was uncomfortable at first, but matters soon settled down.’

  A butterfly settled on a flower by Annis’s cheek. She stared fixedly at its jewel-bright colours.

  ‘We were very happy for five years,’ Adam said softly. ‘There were no children, but we always thought that we had plenty of time. Then Mary contracted scarlet fever. Within two weeks she was dead.’

  Adam got up and walked across to the sundial, resting a hand on the warm stone of the
rim. ‘I could not accept it at first. We had been so young and I suppose we had never been tried. Apart from our elopement, which had seemed little more than a romantic adventure, nothing had ever gone awry for us. And suddenly I was left with nothing.’

  Annis did not speak. Adam’s voice was expressionless, but she knew that it must be hurting him to talk about this. She wanted to touch him, to comfort him, but she did not dare to get up and go to him. He seemed far away from her, wrapped up in the grief of years, beyond her reach. She was afraid that if she went to him he would reject her.

  Adam rested his booted foot on the base of the sundial and looked away across the gardens.

  ‘Such heartache does not last forever. Inevitably the initial sharpness will ease, although one does not ever forget.’ He shrugged. ‘I went abroad and fought the French. I came home and—’ he smiled a little ‘—I confess that I played the part of a rake about Town. It is perfectly possible to survive on one’s own. It is simply that one feels…unfinished. The years passed and I never met a lady I wished to marry. Until now.’

  He came back to the bench with a swiftness that took Annis by surprise, and took both her hands in his.

  ‘Annis, I love you. From the very first I was attracted to you and I quickly realised that I wanted to marry you. There is nothing to say that a man cannot love—sincerely love—more than once.’ He gave her a little, loving shake. ‘What I felt for Mary was a boy’s passion that I believe would have mellowed into something deeper with age. What I feel for you cannot be compared with that. I am a man now, not a boy of eighteen, and I feel for you everything that a man can feel.’

  His arms went around her and he pulled her hard against him. Annis clung to him, her face turned against his chest, hearing the thud of his heart, breathing in the scent of him. He was offering her everything that she could ever have asked for and she could not quite believe it. In a few moments, when he felt the warmth of her tears drench his shirt, he held her a little away and scanned her face.

  ‘Sweetheart…why are you crying?’

  Annis shook her head slightly. Her heart was too full for her to speak. ‘I am sorry,’ she managed to say. She freed herself from his grip. ‘You are so generous and I…’ Her words failed. I cannot tell you that I love you… The words hung in the air, unspoken between them. She wanted to say them; wanted to believe them. She was so close to it…

  ‘I suppose that I am envious,’ Annis said in a moment, ‘which is no very admirable thing. My own marriage was such a poor thing in comparison.’

  There was such a tender light in Adam’s eyes that she almost cried again. ‘That need not matter one jot, Annis. It does not mean that we cannot be happy. I am confident that when you are ready, you will tell me what happened to you. In the meantime, I can wait.’

  There was a week to go before the wedding. The house in Church Row had been emptied and all Annis’s meagre possessions moved to Eynhallow. Mrs Hardcastle was established at Starbeck and suddenly it seemed that there was nothing for Annis to do.

  ‘It is very odd,’ she confided in Della Tilney, as they sat together in the drawing room one morning. ‘I am so accustomed to being busy that I cannot settle. I feel as though I am suddenly become useless.’

  Della looked up from her needlework, a light of understanding in her grey eyes.

  ‘It is only until the wedding, Annis. At the moment you are in that state of anticipation where you are simply waiting for something to happen. Afterwards…’

  ‘Yes?’ Annis cast her needlework aside restlessly and jumped to her feet. ‘Afterwards I may do what?’ She spread her hands appealingly. ‘It is so long since I have been a lady of leisure, Della, that I cannot remember what to do!’

  Della laughed. ‘Why, there are endless things for you to do, Annis! If you do not care for the usual pursuits of reading and needlework, then you may walk or go out riding, or visiting. There are plenty of good causes for you to embrace and besides…’ Della cast her a smiling look ‘…Adam will want to monopolise you for plenty of the time!’

  ‘He does not seem to want to do so now,’ Annis said gloomily. Adam and Edward had gone out hunting that morning and she imagined that they would be away for the whole day.

  Della gave her a shrewd look. ‘I rather suspect that Adam finds your company too much temptation prior to the wedding,’ she said, with a wicked smile. ‘Last night he was watching you all the time during dinner. I asked him the same question three times and he cut me dead! He is fathoms deep in love with you, my dear!’

  Annis was spared an answer by the arrival of Tranter.

  ‘Excuse me, Lady Wycherley.’ The butler bowed low. ‘Mrs Hardcastle is here to see you, ma’am. She seems in some distress. I tried to encourage her to wait for you in the library, but she insisted on staying in the hall. She is out there now.’

  Annis got to her feet in some surprise. The thought of Mrs Hardcastle in distress was difficult to imagine, for that redoubtable lady had been a tower of strength for years.

  ‘Excuse me, Della,’ she murmured. ‘I think I had better go and investigate. In the hall, you said, Tranter?’

  Mrs Hardcastle was occupying one of the hard, straight-backed chairs that stood beside the long pier glass at the bottom of the stairs. She was looking straight ahead and was clutching in her hands what looked like a piece of old sacking. When she saw Annis approach she got hastily to her feet and Annis saw that she was not so much distressed as agitated. She launched into speech at once.

  ‘Oh, Miss Annis! I found this yesterday when I was cleaning at Starbeck and I thought I should bring it straight over to you! I’ve been awake all night worriting.’

  Annis took her arm. ‘Come into the library, Hardy. Tranter, a pot of tea, if you please.’

  ‘Couldn’t drink a drop!’ Mrs Hardcastle puffed. ‘I’m that distraught, Miss Annis!’

  Annis urged her to a seat and Mrs Hardcastle again sat bolt upright, the piece of sacking clutched in her hands. She seemed to recall suddenly that it was there, for she held it out to Annis and said again, ‘I found this yesterday, ma’am. I was cleaning the end bedroom, the one where the gable is coming down. Anyway, that’s nothing to the purpose. Proper mess it was in there, with the floorboards loose and the paint peeling. I got young Tom Shepard to bring a hammer and nails to settle the floor, but before he did I just stuck my head down. Disgraceful mess there was down there, Miss Annis, with paper everywhere, and mouse droppings and this disgusting sack…’ Mrs Hardcastle paused to draw breath. ‘So I bundled it all up and took it down to the fire and when I was about to throw it in I suddenly saw this!’

  She thrust the sack at Annis, who looked at it dubiously.

  ‘Yes, Hardy? It is a sack.’

  ‘Look inside, ma’am,’ the housekeeper said, in tones of deep foreboding.

  Annis inserted her hand into the canvas bag.

  ‘Careful now,’ Mrs Hardcastle said, reverting to her usual practical tone. ‘Mind the mouse droppings!’

  Annis’s fingers closed on a scrap of paper that was left in a corner of the bag. It was larger than the rest and had escaped the destruction of the mice. She pulled it out.

  The first thing that she saw was the image of Britannia, then the words one thousand pounds, ripped across by sharp little teeth. She felt a little faint.

  ‘But this…this is one thousand pounds, Hardy!’

  ‘You mean it was one thousand pounds, Miss Annis,’ Mrs Hardcastle corrected heavily. ‘There was ever so many of them papers as well—banknotes, I suppose they’d be—all nibbled to destruction by those pesky mice! I’ve been worriting and worriting all night about what they was doing there. Tom and me, we searched all under the floor, but there was nothing left but shreds. So this morning I put on my bonnet and got Tom to bring me over here in the cart because I knew you would know what to do, Miss Annis.’

  Annis frowned. She had no idea what to do. Whoever had hidden the money in the first place had clearly not banked on Mrs Hardca
stle’s obsession with hygiene, and whoever had hidden it must have gained it by criminal means. No one could have so many banknotes sitting under the floorboards for a legitimate purpose.

  Annis got to her feet and walked across to the window, staring out at Eynhallow’s beautiful gardens bathed on the afternoon sunlight. The sensible thing would be to wait until Adam returned and discuss it with him, but he and Edward had indicated that they might be away until dinner. Besides, Annis was accustomed to taking action of her own accord and she was feeling very restless. She rang the bell decisively.

  ‘I think that it would be best if I came back to Starbeck with you now, Hardy,’ she said. ‘I shall leave a note for Lord Ashwick and explain where I have gone. We must instigate a search of the house, for who knows what else may be hidden on the premises? And then we must alert the appropriate authorities, whoever they are.’

  Within ten minutes the matter was settled. Tom Shepard brought the cart round to the front of the house, looking appalled when he was informed that both Annis and Della Tilney would be accompanying Mrs Hardcastle back to Starbeck. Della was there because she had insisted that it was not appropriate for Annis to go on her own.

  ‘I never have any excitement,’ she said, a twinkle in her grey eyes as she drew on her cloak and gloves and following Annis out to the cart. ‘Besides, Adam will be very displeased about this, dearest Annis, so it is better that he should have two of us to vent his bad temper on. You see what a staunch sister-in-law I shall be to you! I think that we shall deal together extremely well.’

  They searched all afternoon, but found no more money and ended up dusty and thirsty for their pains. Della declared that she had seldom enjoyed an afternoon more and that Mrs Hardcastle’s elderflower cordial was marvellously refreshing. Mrs Hardcastle beamed.

  When the time came for them to return to Eynhallow, they hit a snag. Tom Shepard refused to take them. He stood in the hall, twisting his cap in his hands and looking bashful but determined.