by Laura Martin
‘Does that make sense?’
‘That’s very clear,’ she said, trying to make her voice sound as normal as possible.
Mr Ashburton stopped and reached out to take her arm, placing his fingers on the bare skin of her forearm until she stopped and turned towards him. He was very still, just his eyes moving as he searched for hers under the veil, then he let out a tiny sigh of exasperation.
Annabelle felt her pulse quicken as his hand came up and lifted the material of the veil, folding it back over the top of her bonnet so he could see her face. For one crazy moment she thought he was going to kiss her and was surprised to find her body swaying towards him. The embarrassment when she realised he just wanted to see her expression as he said the next words sent a flush to her cheeks.
‘I know I’m not offering you the fairy tale, Lady Annabelle. I’m offering you the choice of a different future. You can stay here with your mother, reading your books, toeing the line. Or you can marry me and become mistress of your own house. Free to make your own decisions. In neither scenario do you end up with what most women dream of—the doting husband, the brood of children running around.’
Annabelle hated that he knew her secret weakness. She had known for many years she wouldn’t get the future other young women of her birth would. There would be no dazzling debut in London, no gentlemen falling over themselves to fill her dance card. There would be no perfect man asking for her hand in marriage. She’d known none of this was a possibility for her, but she had still dreamed of it. Every so often she would torture herself with daydreams about how her life could have been if it wasn’t for her disfigurement.
‘Do you have an answer for me?’
With visions of both possible futures spinning in her head, she took a deep breath to still her thoughts and compose her mind.
‘I will marry you, Mr Ashburton.’
‘Good. I shall see to the arrangements.’
‘When do you expect the wedding to be?’ It felt surreal, as if she were asking about someone else’s wedding, not her own.
‘We need to move quickly. I shall look into getting a special licence. If not, as soon as the banns can be read.’
Annabelle swallowed hard and summoned a smile. If he was successful in purchasing a special licence, they could be married within the week. Even if it was to be a church wedding Mr Ashburton was a determined and organised man. No doubt he would secure the soonest date and she would be saying her vows within the month.
They strolled on in silence for a few minutes and Annabelle felt Mr Ashburton’s impatience to get away now he had his answer. She wondered if this was what her life would be like. Fleeting meetings with her husband when he visited to sort out some detail of their shared life and then his swift departure to return to the life he truly wanted to live.
* * *
Leo knew he couldn’t just abandon the woman who had just agreed to be his wife, but he had the overwhelming urge to be alone. He wanted to stride off across the cliffs and lose himself in the deserted countryside while he worked on suppressing the emotions raging inside him.
Lady Annabelle wasn’t the first woman he had asked to marry him, although she was the first who had been free to give him an affirmative answer.
For a moment he allowed himself to picture Emily’s face, the features blurred by the passing years. It wasn’t fair to think of her now when he should be focusing on the fresh start Lady Annabelle was offering him.
‘Do you wish to tell your mother while we’re together or will you do it alone?’ he asked, forcing his mind to more mundane details.
‘I will tell her. I need to choose the right moment.’
‘Indeed. Don’t wait too long though. You will need to start packing and preparing for the move to Kent.’
‘Where will we live?’
‘My main residence is just outside Tunbridge Wells. You will reside there. I split my time between there and London.’
‘Very well.’
It all felt so formal, so cold, but he knew it was for the best. Lady Annabelle was a sensible young woman, but he didn’t want to give her any reason to think this was anything more than a business arrangement. He didn’t want her to grow fond of him, didn’t want to have to consider her emotional needs when making decisions. It would be better if she closeted herself away in Tunbridge Wells and busied herself with running the house without wanting too much from him.
‘Is there anything you will need, Lady Annabelle?’
She tilted her head to one side for a moment as if considering.
‘No, I don’t think so. That is...’ She trailed off.
‘Go on.’
‘It’s not something I need as such.’
‘Something that would make your move to Kent easier?’
She nodded.
‘Then tell me.’
‘Does your house have stables?’
‘Of course.’
‘Then I would like a horse to ride. I know it is a significant expense, but if I am to spend much of my time alone I would like to be able to go riding. It is one of my pleasures.’
‘You do not need to justify the request, Lady Annabelle. It is very reasonable.’
Stopping for a moment, she turned to him and he could see her giving him a tentative smile from underneath her veil. It would seem his fiancée was easy to please. He supposed after leading a life as restricted as Lady Annabelle had that any little freedom was significant.
‘We should return you home,’ he said gently, trying not to make it seem as though he was abandoning her now he had got what he wanted. ‘I need to start my journey before it gets too late.’
‘Of course.’ She turned at the same time as he did and their bodies collided. Lady Annabelle was small and she bounced off him, stumbling backwards, her arms flying up from her sides as she tried to regain her balance. He lunged forward with the aim of gripping her and steadying her, but his foot caught hers and for the third time in two days they landed in a tangled heap. Leo was quick to spring to his feet, bouncing back as if she had burned him with the contact. He saw the flicker of hurt on her face at his reaction to her, but stalwartly ignored it. It wouldn’t do to bring emotions into their union—the sooner Lady Annabelle accepted that the better.
Chapter Four
Dear Beth,
I can’t quite believe this is happening, but today I travel to Kent to prepare for my wedding. I keep telling myself it doesn’t matter that we’ve only spoken half a dozen times, but surely I should know a few simple facts about my future husband. I don’t even know if he takes his eggs poached or scrambled in the morning.
‘Don’t do anything to jeopardise this, Annabelle,’ Lady Hummingford muttered as the carriage began to slow. ‘Smile...be polite. Try to remember all the lessons I taught you when you were growing up.’
Annabelle murmured something vaguely positive and wondered if it would be classed as a crime if she pushed her mother from the carriage. It was barely moving and no one could argue that Lady Hummingford wasn’t antagonistic. The journey had seemed endless, with her mother swinging between expressing her incredulity that someone, anyone, would be willing to marry Annabelle and lecturing her daughter on what not to do to mess up this opportunity.
Thankfully the carriage finally stopped and a footman opened the door before her mother could say anything else.
‘Lady Annabelle,’ Mr Ashburton said, stepping forward to greet her. He lifted her hand, but didn’t quite touch it with his lips and Annabelle was reminded of the moment he had leaped away from her when they had tumbled together on the promenade in Eastbourne. It would seem Mr Ashburton didn’t like close contact, at least from her. ‘And Lady Hummingford. I trust your journey was comfortable.’
She got the impression he wasn’t really listening to her mother’s reply as he offered Annabelle his arm.
‘Mrs Westcott will show you up to your room, Lady Hummingford. I’m sure you will want to rest after the arduous journey, so you are fresh for tomorrow. Lady Annabelle, my great-uncle has requested an audience.’
‘I can accompany Annabelle,’ Lady Hummingford said.
‘No need. Lord Abbingdon tires easily, it will be better if it is just Lady Annabelle and myself.’
Before her mother could protest Mr Ashburton had swept Annabelle away through the dark hallway and into the depths of the house.
‘We’ll keep the visit short,’ Mr Ashburton assured her. ‘Then you can rest before tomorrow.’
Tomorrow. The big day. Her wedding day. Annabelle felt her stomach do a flip at even just the thought of it.
‘He is a man who does not care for niceties. He may be—’ Mr Ashburton searched for the right word ‘—unpleasant. It doesn’t mean he disapproves of you, at least not any more than he disapproves of anyone.’
‘I will try not to take whatever he says personally.’
‘Good. Very sensible.’
They were still downstairs when they paused outside a closed door, the wood heavy and patterned with carved flowers and berries. The man beside her—she still couldn’t bring herself to think of him as her fiancé—hesitated as if wanting to say something more, then thought better of it and knocked, not waiting for an acknowledgement before pushing open the door and entering.
The room was dark, with only a small amount of sunlight filtering in through the tiny gaps in the heavy curtains. It smelt musty, the air thick and cloying, and Annabelle had the urge to run over and pull open the curtains and throw wide the windows to let some fresh air in.
It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the gloom, but once they did she saw there was a bed against one wall, a grand, four-poster piece of furniture that would have dominated any normal-sized room, but it looked at home in its spacious surroundings. On the bed, propped up with the covers pulled up to his chin, was an old man, so thin he looked skeletal. As Annabelle moved closer she could see the waxy yellow tinge to his skin and eyes and a horribly bloated belly tucked under the blankets looking out of place with the rest of his skinny form.
‘Come closer, girl. Don’t dawdle in the doorway. How am I meant to see you from there?’ The old man’s voice was surprisingly strong and Annabelle felt herself bristle at the tone. She might be a recluse, a scarred young woman who didn’t have many prospects, but she was still the daughter of an earl and didn’t appreciate being spoken to as though she was one of the old dogs lying by the fireplace.
‘Lord Abbingdon,’ she said, channelling her mother’s most superior tone, ‘a pleasure to meet you.’
Next to her she felt Mr Ashburton jolt in surprise. He had expected her to cower and shy away from the crotchety old man.
Instead she swallowed hard, trying not to breathe through her nose to avoid the worst of the smell, and glided regally over to the bed. Without being asked she took the chair closest to Lord Abbingdon and raised her eyes to meet his. Without even a flicker she held his gaze, seeing his eyes move to the scars and over the rest of her body before returning to her eyes.
‘My great-nephew tells me you are to be married tomorrow. If I give my blessing, of course.’
‘It is important for all parties involved to be satisfied with one another,’ Annabelle said serenely.
Lord Abbingdon let out a low chuckle. ‘You’re assessing me?’
‘Mr Ashburton and I are not married yet. There is still time to change our minds if we do not feel our families are suited.’
‘Balderdash. Don’t you dare go pulling out now. There must be some legal precedent. Leonard? Breach of promise or some such thing?’
‘No one is changing their minds, Lord Abbingdon,’ Mr Ashburton said firmly. ‘Lady Annabelle is just quietly reminding you that you are not the one holding all the cards here.’
Lord Abbingdon eyed her from his position in bed. ‘I thought you were meant to be meek and mild.’
‘That is not what I said,’ Mr Ashburton murmured, shaking his head in despair. ‘I said quiet and reserved in manner. As befits a woman of Lady Annabelle’s status.’
‘You do have that going for you, I suppose. The daughter of an earl, albeit an impoverished one.’
‘I hope I have a little more than just that going for me,’ Annabelle said quietly but firmly.
‘Hmm. What about children? Any problems in the family in that department?’
‘Lord Abbingdon, I understand you are keen for your great-nephew to marry and sire an heir. Here I am, the woman he has selected, ready and prepared to walk down the aisle tomorrow. I am from an ancient family, there is no scandal in my past and...’
‘And children?’
She saw the tension on Mr Ashburton’s face and smiled serenely, smoothing down the skirts of her dress. ‘The women in my family have always been blessed with children.’
‘Good. That’s enough, I’m tired. Get the deed done tomorrow.’
Thoroughly dismissed, Annabelle murmured a farewell and started to move away from the bed.
‘Stay a moment, Leonard,’ the old Viscount said, reaching out and clutching at his great-nephew’s hand.
‘I’ll be out in just a moment,’ Mr Ashburton said as Annabelle hesitated by the door.
‘She’ll do,’ she heard the old man say as she closed the door. ‘Shame about the scars, but at least she’s not some vapid debutante more interested in spending your money than looking after the house and producing children.’
Annabelle quickly let go of the door handle and moved away, her fingers rising to her cheek and covering the scars as she felt the familiar humiliation whenever anyone judged her appearance.
She heard the old man chuckle and then say in a more serious tone, ‘Time for you to move on, too. No more moping about that broken heart of yours.’
* * *
‘You did well,’ Leo said as he strode into the drawing room, finding Lady Annabelle perched on one of the chairs, staring out of the window. He was pleasantly surprised at how well his fiancée had handled Lord Abbingdon. Leo had been managing the man’s difficult moods and pointed comments for years, and as such knew he respected a firm, no-nonsense response. He liked people to be direct, to stand up to him. Lady Annabelle had taken in the old man and his traits and assessed him, then adjusted her manner and words accordingly.
‘He hasn’t told you to call off the wedding?’
‘Good Lord, no. If he was able, I think he would be out of bed by now and dancing a jig that I’m finally going to be standing up in church and saying my vows.’
‘He looks very frail. Is there something wrong with his liver?’
Leo blinked in surprise. From all accounts Lady Annabelle had spent her life cloistered and secluded. She hadn’t walked the streets of London, hadn’t seen the drunks sprawling out on the streets with their skin tinged yellow and their swollen bellies protruding over skinny legs.
‘Yes. The doctors say his liver is swollen to at least double its normal size, although they do not know why. He hasn’t touched a drop of alcohol for years.’
She nodded sagely, seeming to take in the information and file it away.
‘How did you know?’
‘He has that appearance of someone whose liver is failing. He must be very tired.’
‘Have you seen it before?’
Lady Annabelle shook her head. ‘I spent a lot of time on my own at Birling View and the library was filled with books. I read a lot. There were some old medical volumes there.’ She smiled to herself at the memory. ‘Some winter days I would curl up in the library for hours.’
Leo felt suddenly very contented in his choice for a wife. Lady Annabelle was used to living her life alone. She wasn’t going to be needy, always wanting him to be with her, always wanting company or entertainment.
‘I have a decent library at Five Oaks, and a good selection at my London home, Millbrook House, but if there are any books you would like then just let me know and I will arrange to have them delivered.’
‘That is very kind.’
‘Are you ready for tomorrow?’ He searched her face as he asked the question, but Lady Annabelle was a master at concealing her feelings. She looked serene even though he knew she must be feeling some upset at the sudden upheaval of her life.
‘I think so. I have barely had to do anything.’
Leo felt a tiny flicker of guilt. He was aware most young women would want to be involved in organising at least a few details about their wedding, but he had wanted to get everything sorted as quickly as possible so hadn’t consulted Lady Annabelle on a single detail. Instead he had sent a note informing her of the date of their nuptials. Quickly he pushed the guilt away. Lady Annabelle understood the need to be practical.
‘Mr Ashburton, may I ask you a question?’ She looked deadly serious and Leo felt his heart begin to pound. Ideally he wanted to spend a little time with Lady Annabelle before the wedding. He didn’t want to give her any reason, or any chance, to pull out.
‘Of course.’
‘Do you have a mistress?’ It was a bold question, a question many men wouldn’t tolerate from their wives, but he didn’t have anything to hide on that front.
‘No. Would it matter if I did?’
‘No, but I would like to know. I am aware our marriage will not be close in the traditional sense, but I wouldn’t like people knowing things that I do not.’
‘I don’t have a mistress.’
‘I heard your great-uncle say something about heartbreak?’
Leo felt the whole world slow. Here was his future wife asking him about the one topic he really didn’t want her to know about: the woman he had once been foolish enough to love.