The Reluctant Bride Read online

  His wife’s distress always afforded him great sport and tonight he was particularly restless, so when she managed, between gasps, ‘Why so many secrets, Bartholomew! Tell me who came knocking at the door … when was it, five years ago? You took her away in your carriage. Emily told me but I was too afraid to quiz you. Was it Fanchette? Was it my sister?’

  Micklen just laughed louder. ‘Cripples must discover these secrets for themselves.’

  ‘Lucy was too afraid to tell me, too, until I made her. You threatened her, didn’t you, Bartholomew? It was Fanchette, wasn’t it? Lucy said she never learned her name but that she was French and in rags, half starved.’ She shivered.

  Amused, Bartholomew watched her battle with the desire to challenge him and her well placed fear of the consequences. To his surprise, she pressed on. ‘If it wasn’t Fanchette it must have been Jessamine. Lucy said she had dark hair and large eyes. Fanchette told me in the last letter she wrote me five years ago that Jessamine had run away.’ A choking fit bent her double.

  Disgusted, Bartholomew turned from the sight of her spraying spittle, yet despite her apoplexy, Margeurite struggled on. ‘If I had known how incapable you are of forgiveness, Bartholomew … and your capacity for evil, I’d have chosen to be ripped apart by the mob in the Abbaye rather than become your wife.’

  Bartholomew laughed louder. ‘You should speak your mind more often, Margeurite. It’s infinitely more diverting than watching you hide your quaking terror. As for forgiveness, I do not forgive those who have wronged me – and your sister wronged me greatly.’ He fixed her with a level look. ‘It appears Fanchette thought Gerard Fontenay’s pockets would be deeper when he made an honest woman of her, hence her interesting petition for my help.’ He pursed his lips and raised one eyebrow. ‘Now that we have a replacement for Jack Noble and – if Emily plays her cards right – access to the diplomatic pouch, perhaps we can help each other.’

  Listlessly, Emily remained in her bed at Honeyfield House.

  Grieving. And plotting.

  The death of Jack’s child had taken with it any necessity for Emily to have a husband.

  She need not have married Angus. It was a bitter reflection.

  Jack had tapped the deepest of passions within Emily. Passions she’d not known existed. The fiery responses he’d aroused had been shocking and profound. What she’d felt with Jack was real love: the explosion of the senses, the heightened sense of living. No man in her life could ever again compete with Jack. No man could arouse the sensations Jack had aroused.

  With growing certainty, as she wallowed in her misery and tossed, despairingly in her bed, she reasoned it was unfair on Angus that he be afflicted with a wife who could never love him.

  Finally, she roused herself, and reached for her writing box.

  Perhaps, she suggested in a letter to her Aunt Gemma, a bargain could be reached in terms of the dowry her aunt had intended granting Angus for Emily – a sum which obviously had not yet been paid.

  With the child dead – another man’s child – she was certain an annulment could be procured, with her aunt’s assistance.

  Her final argument in the letter – of which multiple drafts had been written – was that this marriage was as unfair on Angus as it was on Emily. He was a good man who deserved better in a wife: a wife who could love him.

  Having sent her letter, a little of the terrible weight of grief fell from Emily’s shoulders.

  * * *

  A week since Angus’s departure turned into two. She forgot that Angus had been kind and patient and had seemed to genuinely grieve over the death of the little one. While Emily’s grief remained overwhelming, her husband was becoming a distant memory.

  If she felt troubled that Angus may object to her plan of an annulment, she thought of his mistress, Jessamine. He’d had other women in the past and no doubt he’d find some worthy woman to make his wife in the future. He’d soon forget Emily.

  Caroline put her head around the door and said with a smile, ‘Perhaps you’d feel strong enough for a short walk this afternoon, Emily. It’s a beautiful day.’

  But when Caroline began to sing the praises of her brother-in-law as she drew the curtains, Emily deflected her seemingly favourite topic of conversation by asking the tantalising question which seemed to paint Angus’s dealings with women in an uncharacteristic light. ‘Please tell me about Jessamine.’

  Yes, it was scandal and surely not a topic Caroline would consider fitting for the ears of Angus’s wife, but it was something to dwell on, other than the baby. Besides, the brief reference to Jessamine in the carriage indicated Caroline clearly knew more than Emily did.

  ‘Jessamine?’ Caroline repeated the name in a tone of deep disquiet as her hand dropped from the curtain, and Emily felt a twinge of shame because Caroline had shown her nothing but kindness.

  Caroline chose her words carefully. ‘Angus told you about Jessamine?’

  With studied carelessness, Emily traced the embroidery on the bed linen. ‘He said she was long dead.’

  Seating herself beside the bed, Caroline took her hand. ‘You mustn’t be jealous, Emily. Angus—’

  Emily cut her off with a laugh. ‘I’m not jealous.’

  Caroline frowned and in the silence Emily could imagine her thoughts whirling round inside her head. Emily used to put Lucy on the spot like this, after she’d realised Lucy no longer wanted to tell Emily the stories of her father’s heroic background.

  Caroline appeared to be vacillating over how much to say. Then clearly decided to say nothing. ‘Jessamine is dead. Let’s leave the past as is, shall we?’

  Emily, a second ago, had been prepared to dismiss the subject. Now she was deeply interested in the reason for Caroline’s clouded brow.

  ‘She was a camp follower, wasn’t she? Angus met her during the Corunna retreat. I gather she was Spanish.’

  ‘French,’ Caroline corrected her, absently.

  ‘How did she die?’

  ‘She took her own life.’

  Emily was unprepared for such an answer.

  ‘Killed herself?’ That meant she lay in unconsecrated ground. A fate baby Jack would have shared had Jonathan not buried him in his own churchyard.

  Caroline rose, adding shortly, ‘Angus found her.’ She pretended to busy herself, rearranging a drooping flower and changing the subject as she said, falsely bright, ‘I received a letter from Angus today. He’s returned to England but has had to go to London on business. He asked me to convey his love and says he anticipates being home in three or four days.’

  Three or four days! Emily’s shock at the nature of Jessamine’s death turned to horror at this latest news.

  Her mind worked quickly. Surely two weeks after her miscarriage was too soon for him to expect his conjugal rights? Until she received instructions from Aunt Gemma as to how to proceed with her application for an annulment she must find any excuse to keep Angus at bay. She ought to be a free woman. She had not wanted to marry Angus two months ago and even less did she wanted to be married to him now.

  Caroline smiled and brushed away a strand of Emily’s dark hair. ‘He is so looking forward to seeing you again,’ she said, and despite herself Emily closed her eyes, enjoying the rare sensation of being caressed. She was truly fond of Caroline and sorry she would be disappointing her.

  Better to do it earlier, though.‘Poor Angus,’ whispered Emily. ‘His honourable actions towards me will cost him dearly, I fear, for I am not the wife to make him proud – or happy.’

  The following day her response from Aunt Gemma arrived.

  Snatching the sealed letter from amongst those the parlour maid delivered on a silver salver to the drawing room and with only a cursory nod at Caroline, she hurried to the privacy of her room.

  Quickly, she slid her nail under the wax seal and scanned the few lines, her heart racing.

  Dear Emily,

  Perhaps you have forgotten the number of people who witnessed your delicate condition. There were, also, two witnesses in church who would testify to the advancement of your pregnancy.

  Major McCartney is a gentleman who is anxious to secure your happiness, though not at the expense of his dignity. You seem to forget that his gallantry towards you was the only means by which you salvaged your reputation and could have kept your child.

  An annulment is out of the question not to mention a shabby way to treat a good man.

  Quite frankly, I find your efforts in soliciting my help in that direction grubby and beneath yourself.

  You also seem to be labouring under a misapprehension. While it is true I offered financial inducement to Major McCartney, he refused my offer.

  I am sorry for your misfortunes but you are, ultimately, responsible for your rash behaviour.

  Wishing you all the happiness for which you are prepared to strive towards in your new life,

  Yours, GH

  Emily crumpled the thick paper and squeezed shut her eyes as she climbed the stairs to her bedchamber.

  She felt helpless and trapped.

  Trapped, as she never had when Jack’s baby offered hope for some future happiness.

  Now not only had she lost her baby, but Aunt Gemma denied that Angus had taken her money.

  An eternity spent sharing a lumpy mattress with a soldier husband she did not know while she ruined her hands to get the fire lit each morning loomed ahead.

  In her bedroom she threw herself, face down, on the bed, and sobbed.

  She wanted Jack and she wanted their baby, but her only consolation in not being shunned and destitute as a result of being intimate with the man who would have been her husband in just a few days was … Angus.

  And he was a poor substitute.

  Angus rode into the stable yard four day
s later.

  ‘Emily!’ he cried, seeking her out from amongst the family members and staff who had come to greet him.

  Dismounting, he removed his hat, smiling as if she could be nothing other than delighted to see him. He carried himself with ease, tall and erect in the saddle. He seemed confident, different from when just the two of them were together.

  She’d expected to feel nothing but despair, perhaps even contempt, when she laid eyes on him after such a long separation. Curiously, she found herself admiring his straight-backed form, wondering about the old scar she’d never asked him about. Indeed, he looked every inch the brave, competent soldier she’d been told he was.

  ‘Hello, Angus.’ Emily tempered her smile to reflect a modicum of welcome. She felt wary and very vulnerable, a moment later acknowledging with shock the surprising warmth that swept through her as he took her hands in his strong, determined grip.

  ‘I hope your journey wasn’t too onerous.’ Still she strove for the right tone: polite, formal. Distant. She did not meet his eye. It would be wrong to encourage him in view of her determination to leave him – for she was determined on that– yet she was surprised at how much she didn’t recoil.

  ‘It would appear you’ve not ridden post haste from the docks.’ She’d intended for her words to contain a veiled criticism, despite the fact she’d given him no reason to hurry home, yet he did look awfully good. There was a ruddy glow to his cheeks and his mouth, which she was surprised to notice for the first time was full and well shaped. His eyes sparkled like one in the peak of good health or perhaps riding the crest of good fortune or buoyed up by enthusiasm. His light-brown hair was ruffled, making him appear more boyish and approachable, and his coat, though a little mud spattered, was of the finest cut. In short, her husband looked handsome and well turned out in his buckskin breeches, as if he’d visited the finest tailor before returning home, specially to please her.

  Three-year-old Jane raised her arms to be picked up. ‘Hamsum Uncle Angus.’

  Swinging her onto his shoulders, Angus’s gaze lingered upon Emily, but when it was clear Emily had no further greeting for him, he hung back to match Caroline’s pace, saying over his shoulder. ‘Not too onerous, thank you. I’ve just returned from London where I was required to submit a report.’

  Abandoned, and instantly regretting her coolness, Emily walked behind them, listening to her husband answer Caroline’s volley of questions. Most of these he adroitly bypassed, concentrating on his pleasure to be at Honeyfield and to find everyone so well.

  He’d just finished thanking Caroline for her care of Emily when he turned, his expression warming instantly as he looked searchingly at his wife.

  ‘Emily, I have a surprise. I’ve secured us a house.’ When no immediate response was forthcoming he went on, ‘I think you will like it for it is within easy visiting distance of here and not far from the village.’

  At Emily’s restrained, ‘How nice, Angus,’ he sighed and his tone lost its enthusiasm. ‘The lease came up unexpectedly, though of course if it’s not to your taste we won’t take it. I thought the proximity to Caroline and Jonathan would be’—he waited for Emily to catch up so he could walk beside her—‘helpful.’

  ‘They have been kind,’ Emily murmured, trying to maintain the sense of isolation and emotional distance she should feel. But all she could think was how well her husband looked. And handsome.

  She gave herself an internal shake. She had not wished for this marriage and the fact remained that she was his to command, all on account of the tiny, perfectly formed infant that should have been the first of many warm soft bundles of pleasure created from a loving union with Jack.

  After a few moments of awkward silence, Angus gave up trying to thaw her reserve and rejoined Caroline and Jonathan as his sister-in-law led him through the house to show off her newly decorated drawing room.

  Emily could see his admiration was genuine as he cast his eye over the purple drapes and embroidered muslin curtains which framed the French doors opening into the conservatory. It was a daring colour scheme which Emily acknowledged worked superbly and Caroline deserved to look pleased with herself. ‘Jonathan was horrified when I showed him the drawings,’ she said with a smile, ‘but I think he’s come round.’

  ‘The poor reduced husband was hardly in a position to object.’ Jonathan squeezed his wife’s slender waist, causing Caroline to feign an exasperated sigh.

  ‘As if you don’t have the authority to control my fortune as you see fit.’ Despite the tartness of her tone she was unable to maintain her frown at Jonathan’s hangdog expression. Shrugging off his arm to continue her argument, her mouth twitched as she chided, ‘How often must I remind you that I find your references to my fortune and your lack of one in exceedingly poor taste?’ She directed an arch look at Angus. ‘Not even my substantial dowry was sufficient to compensate for my lack of face and figure until Jonathan took pity.’

  ‘And haven’t I paid dearly for it?’ enquired Jonathan with exaggerated despair. ‘Three beautiful children, an exquisite, well-run home and a wife—’

  Emily had expected him to continue his bantering tone. Whereas she’d once felt uncomfortable listening to their more intimate exchanges, she now found them endearing.

  She glanced back from her contemplation of Caroline’s handiwork and her heart skipped a beat as she intercepted their look. Jonathan continued, his tone gentle and sincere, ‘who is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. A queen amongst queens.’

  At Caroline’s maidenly blush, Emily slid her eyes across to Angus. Some indefinable emotion crossed his face which made Emily quail inwardly. Did he really think they could be like that?

  He turned to Emily with a smile that looked as if Caroline and Jonathan’s domestic cosiness were contagious. ‘I think you will like our new house, Emily. Like Jonathan, I’d happily give my wife free rein to decorate as she pleases.’

  Emily was confused by the unexpected pang of hope and excitement she felt.

  Immediately her suspicions were aroused. How could Angus suddenly have come into funds? He’d told her his new appointment was dangerous and secretive, but his remuneration couldn’t be so large and immediate, surely?

  Bypassing Emily’s bland smile, Angus resumed with undampened enthusiasm, ‘It was only quite by chance I heard Wildwood Manor was available during the crossing over. I remember how highly you thought of the place after you were invited there by Admiral Chesterbrook last summer, Caroline, so I inspected it immediately following my return to England.’

  ‘My, my, little brother.’ Jonathan’s tone was admiring. ‘How your fortunes have changed.’

  Emily slanted a suspicious look at the two of them. Was she being taken for a fool?

  ‘I’m afraid I haven’t the first idea about decorating,’ she said, faintly.

  Caroline looked at her, oddly.

  ‘Perhaps, Emily, you’d like to accompany me to the schoolroom to hear the children read,’ she said.

  ‘Lovely,’ Emily echoed Caroline’s falsely cheerful tone, nodding as the men repaired to the billiards room to pass the time until the dinner gong sounded.

  ‘Caroline, I’m sorry I was unkind,’ Emily began in a rush the moment they’d gained the sanctuary of the long gallery. ‘I know my aunt’s money paid for this apparently wonderful new home of ours, yet Angus didn’t even consult me.’

  She had to believe it was true. Her aunt must be lying. It was the foundation for her hopes of dissolving this unwanted marriage. It was what she’d channelled all her efforts into achieving since Angus had left, and just because she felt this odd reluctance didn’t mean a clean break wasn’t ultimately in their best interests.

  ‘If you’re piqued Angus didn’t consult you I believe he elicited your feelings earlier but your lack of enthusiasm suggested he should do as he felt best.’ Caroline tucked Emily’s hand into the crook of her arm once more, adding, ‘You can’t have it both ways.’

  ‘You make me sound like a spoilt child,’ Emily muttered, and Caroline laughed.