Текст книги "An Accidental Affair"
Автор книги: Heather Boyd
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CHAPTER SEVEN
Family was the curse of Merrick’s existence. He studied the two men seated opposite him and did his best to control his irritation at finding them in his home. The arrival of his Ford cousins always heralded trouble. Holland might have managed to send this pair away if he had not been already off on an errand.
And the pair had interrupted his pleasant fantasy of making love to Arabella in a greenhouse filled with orchids and tall palms. He couldn’t ever have her in such an intimate setting, but he’d indulged himself and imagined it anyway.
“I say, Rothwell, are you even listening to us?” Captain Fredrick Ford grumbled.
Such interruptions were not to be borne with any form of good grace and certainly not for a wedding invitation to Newberry Park, home to generations of meddling Fords and the last place on earth Merrick wished to go. He reluctantly focused on his cousins. “I have no interest in attending.”
“He says you have to come or the wedding cannot proceed,” Fredrick whined.
Merrick raised a brow in disbelief. “For God’s sake, man, it’s your own wedding. Tell His Grace you’ll surrender to the enemy or something equally horrifying and he’ll forget about my absence simply to avoid the scandal. You’ll get her dowry one way or the other.”
Their mutual grandfather, the Duke of Rutherford, was as difficult as all the rest and used his rank and influence to intimidate even his own family. Arranging marriages to suit his needs was high on his list of priorities. Fredrick was the first of their generation to succumb to the pressure of the shackle being secured about his leg.
Fredrick frowned. “Do you not wish to meet my bride?”
“I think it more important that you meet her. How long have you known her, anyway? A bare month at most?” Merrick shrugged away his disgust. Marriages made in haste always ended badly. “I’ll see her after the event when you’ve returned from sea and you both come up to Town.”
And if it took a considerable amount of time to arrange that meeting, he would not be discontent. The less time he spent with his cousins, the better. They had nosy, prying natures. Every last one. Only a fool or a Ford relation would disturb a man before one in the afternoon.
Captain Quinn Ford, Viscount Maitland and heir to the ducal estate after his father’s passing, lifted Merrick’s most prized orchid from the corner of the desk and studied it closely. “Sally is counting on you to come. She’s in a complete snit about Freddy bowing to the arrangement as it is.”
Merrick retrieved the temperamental orchid as Quinn started to pitch it from side to side as if measuring how it would fare aboard his ship. “Your sister has cause to disagree with the appeal of an arranged marriage.”
Deprived of his amusement, Quinn sprawled in his chair as if he would never leave. “Sally is long over her disappointment, I assure you.”
Merrick closed his eyes briefly. Did Quinn really not understand the cruel damage done to Quinn’s sister’s heart from her own aborted match? Not for one moment did he think Sally had forgotten that on the eve of her wedding, she had discovered her intended was marrying her for the guaranteed promotion it would offer him in his career. Such a disappointment would not go away so easily.
When Merrick had come upon Sally soon after, he’d calmed her down and then had the chore of ensuring her former intended suffered just enough for breaking her heart rather than the Ford cousins killing him. That was the last time he’d involved himself in Ford affairs. He was in no rush to return to the family fold to continue old bad habits.
When he opened his eyes again, Quinn held out a folded parchment document. “His Grace sent this for you. If it’s like ours, you might want to burn it before opening. It contains a special license. He’s determined to have us all married before the year is out.”
His cousin placed the parchment on his desk and Merrick stared at it, cursing his grandfather’s meddling but rather impressed in turn. When he did decide on which woman he wanted to marry, the whole business could be concluded at their own convenience.
He smiled serenely. Since he had a special license in his possession now, it wouldn’t do him any good to leave London. “Give my best to your mother and sisters when you return to Essex.”
Fredrick stood scowling, hearing the unspoken “please leave” in his words.
Quinn scowled too but shook his head stubbornly. “We’ll see you soon.”
To make sure they left, Merrick escorted them all the way to the front door. He raked a hand through his hair when he was alone again—the unopened parchment at the forefront of his mind. He picked it up and then unfolded the paper. It was a special license and came without a bride’s name upon it. He smiled. At least his grandfather had left the choice of bride open for him to decide. Now he had all that was needed to make the match he wanted.
A scratch on the door drew his attention from the paper. “Come.”
Holland eased inside the room. “Excuse the interruption, my lord, but Lieutenant Ford followed me home. Laurence, that is, and he is most insistent in speaking with you without delay now his brothers have gone.”
Merrick groaned. What the devil did that foolish young man want now? Since he was already disturbed, he decided he might as well add one more annoyance to his morning. “Oh, show him in. Show everyone in. I simply do not care anymore.”
Holland hurried off and returned a moment later with his young cousin hard on his heels. “I need your advice,” Laurence exclaimed even before Holland had completely departed the room.
Merrick waited until the door closed and he could no longer hear footsteps in the hall beyond. “You had sufficient assistance last night. I told you what you needed to do.”
Laurence raked his fingers through his untidy hair. “It didn’t work. He would not hear me out. In fact, I think Lord Farnsworth laughed at me.”
Merrick gritted his teeth. No matter how much he detested the Fords, he would not bear the insult delivered to his cousin with any form of good grace. Laurence had an earnestness of youth that was refreshingly childlike. That was why Merrick was against any alliance with Farnsworth’s daughter in truth. Laurie would not bear the connection well until perhaps he had matured enough to stand up to such a man.
Merrick settled behind his desk again, securing the special license in the top drawer, out of sight, out of mind, till needed. “Start from the beginning.”
“I gave your advice considerable thought last night and I wish to have Cecily for my wife. I wanted things settled before I returned to duty, and so I called on her father and asked for her hand, but he wouldn’t hear me out. Kept saying I was too late.” Laurence shook his head.
Occasionally, Laurence spoke as if one knew exactly what he meant without being specific. Just to be sure he’d been clear, Merrick queried him. “So you did tell him you wanted to marry her?”
“Yes, I managed to say marriage several times, very clearly, before he insisted I leave.”
Merrick hid a grin, imagining his cousin’s earnest face as he’d professed his undying love for the wild Cecily. “Perhaps Farnsworth thought your acquaintance too slight, too brief of duration, to agree to the marriage on your first request. You are very young, coz. Given time, he could very well change his mind. There is no necessity in marrying the girl immediately is there?”
Laurence shook his head, his cheeks turning red at his suggestion that there could be an urgent reason to marry, like a babe in Lady Cecily’s belly already. “None at all, although I have been led to believe she would not be adverse to that. Cecily wrote me today and I am greatly concerned by her news.”
A much-folded letter was produced and promptly handed over. Merrick opened it and read the first lines, grimacing as he did so. Sugary-sweet sentiments slid from the page. No wonder Laurence was concerned. Cecily was very eloquent about her passion for his cousin. A letter like this, in the wrong hands before a wedding, could prove highly embarrassing to all parties. “I think this is perhaps too private to be shown to others.” He made to fold it and hand it back, but Laurence waved his hands and refused to take it.
“The worst news is at the end.”
Merrick didn’t like his chances of avoiding the cloying phrases, so he skimmed them as best he could until the letter became interesting. He sat up straighter and whistled. “That’s a surprise. I imagined Farnsworth might approve of someone younger, a man he could control.” He’d also thought Parker’s attention had been on Arabella, not the niece.
Laurence nodded. “And Parker’s cruel. Just last week he beat an urchin who’d stumbled into his path.”
“There is no reason to suspect he would show his wife so little consideration.” Merrick caught his cousin’s gaze. “Despite that, it could be a good match for her. She’s bound to outlive him and can marry whomever she pleases later.”
Laurence’s expression became distraught. “I cannot wait forever. You were correct last night that I had not considered her reputation, but eloping, as Cecily suggests, is bound to cause a scandal for the family. I love her and want to spend every moment making her happy. What should I do?”
“There is nothing that can be done.” Merrick had discovered fathers were quite an obstacle when a man had his mind on their daughter, even when he had honorable intentions. “Her father has the right to choose her husband, even if others may find the match disagreeable.”
Laurence stood and paced before the desk, long legs eating up the distance in jerky strides. It was like watching a windmill, limbs everywhere at once. He pulled his temperamental orchid out of danger again and moved it to a safer position behind him to prevent an accident.
“Can you imagine Cecily wed to that man?” Laurence exclaimed suddenly. “She’s far too spirited in nature to ever be truly happy with such a match.”
When Merrick had mentioned last night that it was ungentlemanly to steal kisses from an unmarried girl without there being an understanding, he had no notion that his words would be taken so far to heart and so quickly. That Laurence had attempted to propose impressed him, but he couldn’t fathom why he would want to be saddled with such a wild, untamed wife. There wouldn’t be a lot of easy companionship in the marriage. Laurence was not thinking sensibly. “Are you sure you want to be saddled with her? I hope your decision had less to do with the threat of Aunt Pen and that you are aware of every facet of Lady Cecily’s personality.”
A flush of color swept Laurie’s face. Anger or embarrassment, Merrick couldn’t tell. Laurence sat again and drew in a shaky breath. “She may have an impetuous nature, but we do have similar interests. As you can see from her note, it is her wish to elope and avoid marriage to Lord Parker, and I’m willing to go along with that. I do want her for my wife—with or without her dowry. I’ve never considered such a thing as a necessity before and hoped you might advise me of how to go on.”
Merrick leaned back in his chair. Making a potentially scandalous match, without the family’s approval or the anticipation of the girl’s dowry to sweeten the pot, raised Merrick’s estimation of Laurence’s character considerably. Only a man in love or a fool would go against such pressure. “What makes you think I could help with an elopement?”
Laurence colored. “My brothers have mentioned your experience with women on occasion, and you have come to Lady Farnsworth’s aid before.”
Merrick frowned. “What does Lady Farnsworth have to do with you eloping?”
“An unsuccessful elopement, rather than a successful one, is sure to cause Lady Farnsworth considerable embarrassment. We would rather avoid capture if at all possible.”
He stood, infuriated that he was being blackmailed by his own cousin with the threat of diminishing Lady Farnsworth’s happiness. There was no way Laurence had concocted this scheme on his own. This was Cecily’s influence at work. “I see Cecily doesn’t care one whit for her aunt’s advice. If you think I’ll help you simply on the threat of tarnishing Lady Farnsworth’s reputation, think again. I don’t believe we have anything further to say to one another.”
Laurence bounced to his feet and leaned over the desk, his voice dropping low. “On the contrary. Cecily cares for her aunt’s future a great deal and bemoans the fact that, as a chaperone, Lady Farnsworth has not been free to pursue her own life. She’s much too pretty to be alone.” Laurence’s throat worked as he swallowed. “And I’ve noticed Lady Farnsworth has caught your attention. Do you have a special license from grandfather, too? Are you considering proposing to her?”
Merrick cursed roundly under his breath. If this simpleton had detected his admiration for Arabella, then it was likely that others had, too. He stilled. Had his aunt come out to ensure that Arabella’s reputation remained intact last night?
The idea that his mother’s family was set against any association, even a harmless one, between himself and Arabella infuriated him. He had never done one reproachable thing in his dealings with the lady before except accidentally kiss her last night. Aunt Pen couldn’t have known about the kiss at the time. During the season, he had denied every impulse to linger near the widow because she was clearly uncomfortable around him. Last night she’d been flustered, but she would never willingly choose him over propriety. His family’s mistrust was the final straw.
If he could not have Arabella, then he would help someone else find their happiness by any means. He strode to the doorway and yanked it open. “Holland, have the new coach ready to make a long journey tonight,” he bellowed and then slammed the door shut.
Laurence was on his feet in an instant, towering over him. “You cannot leave now.”
“Of course I cannot leave.” He stabbed his finger into Laurence’s chest, momentarily surprised by the resistance he encountered. Life onboard a ship had hardened the boy. “You will have your heart’s desire. Tonight. Take my new coach on the journey north and you’ll have a better chance of slipping from London undetected. I’ll have a word with your captain and ensure you suffer no penalty. He owes me.”
Laurie gaped. “Why didn’t I think of that?”
“Probably because Lady Cecily has fogged your mind with her long-winded love talk. Return here at seven to collect the coach, pack sparingly, and carry sufficient funds for accommodation, food, and change of horse. I won’t fund this whole affair, but I can ensure you make it to the border.” Merrick held out his hand for Laurence to shake. “Best of luck to you and your true love.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
“You cannot leave like this.” Arabella’s throat ached from the arguments, but she had to stop her niece from throwing her life away. Night had fallen and the maid had returned with the news that Lieutenant Ford was in agreement and would arrange the elopement for that very night. They were to meet one street away, on the edge of Green Park.
Cecily snapped her portmanteau closed and sighed. “Father will not listen, and I love Laurie too much to wait another day. Do you have any idea how hard it is to see him and yet have to part each night? My soul is ripped in two by constant yearning. Were you ever so aware of another person that you simply did not care what happened to you if the feelings deep inside are so stirred again and again?”
Arabella looked down at her hands. She had never felt such a way and doubted she ever would. Given recent developments, she might have no idea what love even looked like. She’d been so sure that Parker was interested. Yet it was Rothwell she’d kissed and wanted to again. “’Tis only lust stirring your body, Cecily,” she whispered.
Cecily cupped her face with one hand, lifting her gaze. Steady, determined eyes met hers. The girl was reconciled to her decision. “Then I shall take lust and passion and forsake a cold alliance with a man older than my father. Wouldn’t you?”
Arabella wanted to nod her agreement, but she’d hidden the true state of her life and her heart from everyone for so long that she feared their pitying glances. One kiss with Rothwell was all the excitement life had sent her way. She’d never experienced further passion or more than a passing flutter of attraction with another man. The sensations Cecily extolled as essential to life were just a dream to Arabella.
She sank onto the side of the bed, letting her niece’s touch slip away. Who was she to deny Cecily a chance at happiness? If a border wedding was the only way to achieve the marriage Cecily wished for and there was love on both sides at the beginning, then surely she should offer what little support she could and hope for the best. It was more than she’d ever had. Lieutenant Ford might be young, but he was from a very good family. Perhaps their influence could control the girl where Arabella had only failed. “If you are sure this is what you want.”
“Oh, I am. I cannot wait to see him again.”
Since Arabella had nowhere else to go save Surrey, then the least she could do was help Cecily make it to the coach and her purported true love. She wrestled the portmanteau from her niece and opened it. “The sky is filled with clouds tonight. Do you have another shawl and a thicker pair of stockings in case the weather worsens?”
Cecily crushed Arabella in a violent embrace. “You are the truest companion a girl could want. Thank you. I will do as you suggest and add to what I have already packed.”
Arabella, moved to tears by the sudden display of affection, was unsure how far to push the girl and settled for merely patting her back. “My last act as chaperone will be to come with you to meet the coach. I cannot allow you to walk the streets alone, and your luggage is somewhat awkward. What if he is delayed? I couldn’t bear for you to stand alone on the street like a common strumpet.”
Cecily wiped at her eyes. “It is kind of you to say delayed and not that Laurie may not come at all. I am sure you are thinking that.”
Arabella squeezed her hand. “As if he would dare desert you. I’ll be right back.”
She returned to her room and collected her dark blue carriage cloak and fine kid gloves. As she donned them, she admired her niece’s bravery. Cecily had never balked at any obstacle life had thrown after the fall that had taken her mother’s life several years ago. She flew through society at her own pace, unmindful of the opinions of others or their dark looks at her daring. In Arabella’s experience, such strength of character was rare in women. She could never be so headstrong, but she wished her niece well.
A tap on her door drew her attention and Cecily’s pretty face peeked through the gap. She stood, portmanteau in hand, dancing on the balls of her feet in the hallway—a woman ready for the greatest adventure of her young life. Arabella checked the time. It was now or never—time to meet Lieutenant Ford and see if his heart was true.
She hurried to her niece and led her down the servants’ staircase, past the servants who peered at them curiously, and out into the dark rear square. The night was overcast with clouds that promised rain but hadn’t delivered, making the hour feel much later than it was. Cecily’s grip tightened on hers, but her steps did not hesitate as they hurried through to the mews and out onto London’s busy streets.
Mayfair teemed with fine carriages on their way to one engagement or another. Although the light was poor due to the clouds, Arabella felt exposed. “Pull your cloak closer about your face, my dear, and keep your head down. We don’t want him to hear of this yet.” By him, Arabella meant Cecily’s father. Farnsworth would chase his daughter down and drag her back by her hair to ensure she kept the bargain he’d made with Lord Parker. Arabella shuddered at the storm that would likely land on her head because of this when Cecily was discovered missing tomorrow morning. It would not be an easy time.
Arabella stopped as she spied a gleaming black carriage standing at the appointed place. The coach bore no crest that she could see but looked very new and fine. She held Cecily in place. “That could not be him.”
“I’m sure it is.” Cecily hurried forward, hood falling to her shoulders in her haste, unconcerned that she could be spotted by someone who knew them.
Heart sinking to her toes, Arabella had no choice but to follow.
“Wait,” she called, but Cecily was already beside the carriage. Lieutenant Ford owned only a phaeton that she knew of. She imagined he’d hire a coach for the journey, but how he could afford such a fine conveyance in just a day escaped her.
She hurried her pace then let out a relieved breath when she spied Lieutenant Ford beside the dark carriage, one hand on the door, one held out to Cecily. He had forgone his navy uniform for this excursion but still looked every inch a sailor. As if in a daze, Cecily moved to him without a second thought for Arabella.
Lieutenant Ford raised Cecily’s hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “My love.”
Cecily’s return smile was blinding.
Lieutenant Ford dragged his gaze away from his future wife and grinned at Arabella over Cecily’s shoulder. “Thank you for delivering her into my keeping, my lady. I promise you we will see you again very soon.”
“How could you afford…,” she asked before she thought better of her question. She winced at how uncouth her blunt question would sound. It was one thing to discreetly enquire after a suitor’s financial affairs, but quite another to demand answers on a public street.
“I have my cousin, Lord Rothwell’s, generosity to thank for that.” His eyes flickered to the impressive conveyance and the restless horses attached to it. “He is as true a believer in love as ever there was.”
Rothwell was involved? That truly surprised her. She’d had the distinct impression that he didn’t care to help anyone, especially not members of his family and that he considered the pair rash in their affections.
Cecily turned and hugged her tightly. “I wish I could stay to see you made happy too. I cannot bear to think of you in Surrey. When I return a married woman, you must come live with us.”
Arabella could never do as Cecily wished. She could not live off their charity since the pair would have so little to live on with a lieutenant’s pay. So she made no immediate answer in order to avoid the likely argument now. Time was of the essence. When she stepped back, Lieutenant Ford assisted Cecily inside. He joined her a moment later, and a groom jumped down from the rear of the vehicle.
As the carriage rolled away, the groom came closer. The man was tall and narrow, well dressed and with a mischievous glint in his eye. “Now they’re on their way, I’m commissioned by Lord Rothwell to ensure you return home in safety, my lady. He had a feeling you’d follow the chit to this meeting and wanted to be sure you returned home unharmed.”
Arabella frowned and glanced around her. “If he thought it so dangerous, then why did he not come himself?”
“Wouldn’t do, my lady. Wouldn’t do your reputation any good to be seen alone with him. If you’d be so good as to return the way you came, I’m to follow at a discreet distance and ensure you’re sweetly tucked up at home again before the hour has passed.”
He stepped back, hands lax at his side. Why would Rothwell care for her safety and the continuation of her good reputation? He was the one to kiss her senseless and not even apologize for mistaking her for someone else. Perhaps he routinely kissed the wrong women. She shrugged aside her irritation at the idea and squared her shoulders. She was thinking irrationally to worry about that now. She had thought Rothwell uncaring of propriety in the beginning, but that wasn’t true so far. He had sent his own servant to make sure she returned home safely. That had to count for something.
Confused, Arabella hurried up the street, ducking through the dark mews. Now she was alone, she was a little unnerved by the shadows, but she drew comfort from the servant who followed. When she gained the rear square of her London home, a whistle sounded behind her. She turned but detected no sign of Rothwell’s servant lingering in her shadow anymore. “Thank him, please,” she called out but received no reply.
The first servants she passed were silent and watchful as she entered the house alone. When the butler stepped into her path, her pulse raced.
“May I ask if the young lady is on her way?”
Arabella glanced around, swallowing her worry that they would send word to Farnsworth immediately. She nodded slowly and was pleased when the butler and every other servant grinned, though they quickly stifled the expression. They were on her niece’s side about Parker, it seemed. Their reaction gave her hope that she had done the right thing in helping the girl flee the arranged marriage and that they might help delay the discovery of her disappearance by Farnsworth for as long as possible tomorrow morning.
She returned to her bedchamber and removed her cloak and gloves, satisfied that at least her niece might have a chance for happiness, if there was such a thing. She rubbed her arms. Come morning, Farnsworth would be furious. She’d be blamed and very rightly, too. She’d been a very poor chaperone. Arabella added that to her secret list of failures—wife, mother, lover, chaperone.
A miserable tally if ever there was one.
With nothing to do for Cecily anymore, she snuggled into the chair placed before the fire and tried to picture a life in Surrey again. Mind you, if Farnsworth didn’t wash his hands of her entirely over Cecily’s elopement, she might never see even that place in the future. What would she do then? Her portion from her marriage was pitifully small. She had no relatives that might shelter her if Farnsworth kicked her out. She’d be destitute, forced to rely on the charity of others to keep a roof over her head. Arabella pressed her head to her knees and hugged her legs as she tried to think of a solution that didn’t involve a hermetic lifestyle in Surrey. The only one that came to mind was remarriage. But who would want her, and at such short notice? Could she even bear to be a wife again?
