by Aileen Fish
“You see, I need your assistance in a small matter. A personal matter. It was Gilbert’s idea, to be honest, to ask you. My grandfather is dying. I know it sounds like a plot from a novel, but he insists I marry before he dies or he’ll leave his share of his business to his secretary, Mr. Faircliffe.”
Mama shook her head slightly and glanced at Barbara. “Are you proposing? If you are, this is very sudden. While you’re a friend of my son and he speaks well of you, that’s hardly enough to make me believe you and she would be happy together as husband and wife.”
He cleared his throat. “I had in mind a business arrangement, to be honest. I don’t want to marry, especially not when my days at the shipping company are so long. What I hoped was that Miss Hallewell would pretend to be my betrothed.”
A sigh escaped, but Barbara kept her features composed. A business arrangement, nothing more. “You’d like us to call on him and convince him I’m madly in love with you?”
“There’s no need to go so far as love, but fond of each other will do.”
“Where does your grandfather live?” Mama asked. Barbara couldn’t believe she was considering this.
“In Great Yarmouth.”
Frowning, Mama said, “That’s far to travel just to meet your grandfather. Couldn’t Barbara simply write him a letter as though she’d accepted your proposal?”
“He’d never believe that.” Mr. Tatum jumped up and began to pace. “You’ll both need to stay at his house. We can say the wedding is some months away. He’s not expected to live long, so your visit won’t be more than a few weeks.”
Barbara gasped. He was cold, so callous about the impending death of a loved one. While she had enough practice in her fantasies to pretend she loved someone, she had no desire to assist such a heartless person in his charade. “I cannot help you.” She wouldn’t lie and say she was sorry.
“In return for your aid, I’ll pay for you to stay in London in the spring. My aunt, Mrs. Granderson, will be happy to introduce you to her friends. You’ll receive invitations to some of the finer homes.” He had the decency to look embarrassed at suggesting he pay for her services. “Gilbert felt you’d enjoy the chance to meet someone you’d wish to marry.”
Drat. He had to go and dangle a shiny bauble in front of her. A London Season! She must have heard him wrong. She shouldn’t get her hopes up—there were so many things that could go wrong, the worst being she ended up married to Mr. Tatum. “I don’t think it’s wise.”
“I agree.” Mama sharp words surprised Barbara. She was normally quite skilled at maintaining her poise.
“Your grandfather might live well past summer,” Barbara said. “We won’t be able to keep up the charade that long if I go to London. Or were you thinking I’d go the year after that?”
Mr. Tatum swiped his hand across his mouth. “Forgive me, but I hadn’t thought the entire scheme through. It wasn’t until I received Gilbert’s letter that it occurred to me to ask you.”
Her own brother got her into this ridiculous situation. She’d write him as soon as Mr. Tatum left to give him a piece of her mind. She forgave this man the tactless mention of her not being his first choice, since there was no pretense of a grand romance between them.
Still, the image of London ballrooms enticed her. She and Mama didn’t have the means or the necessary friends to spend spring in Town. A seed of hope began to germinate. “When would we leave for your grandfather’s estate?”
“As soon as possible. When the doctor said Grandfather was so close to death, I came straight away in hopes you’d agree.”
“If we are clear that I do not wish to marry you, I can accept your terms.” She couldn’t meet his gaze, or Mr. Tatum would know how often she’d practiced her response to a proposal, and how much her disappointment weighed on her to agree to a fake betrothal.
He held up his palms as if warding off a great evil. “Believe me, I have no intention of marrying, or I wouldn’t suggest this scheme.”
“But surely you’ll marry one day…to beget an heir at least.” The idea he didn’t want a family at any point in the future made her sad. What a lonely way of life. She shouldn’t care, but she did. She was such a ninny.
“I have many years before I shall require an heir. I work such long hours my wife would nag me to spend time at home.” As if he knew what she was thinking, he added, “I’ll be at home more while you’re there so we may convince Grandfather we care about each other.
Even though he spoke of their phony relationship, she noticed he never mentioned even a pretense of love. Affection, care…those were such timid words for what two people who loved each other should feel. That told her all she needed to know about his character. He might be a friend of her brother, but he was no one she needed to know better. In some small way that made it easier to accept a business arrangement like this. She’d play her part and then be glad to be free of him.
Mama shook her head, her stern voice showing she was still unconvinced. “Barbara, how can you expect to find a husband in London once word gets ’round of your betrothal? No one will want you if you cry off, and they’ll want you even less if Mr. Tatum does the leaving. As difficult as it is for a lady your age to find a husband, you make it impossible with this arrangement.”
The room grew quite warm, and Barbara fought the urge to fan herself. She avoided looking at Mr. Tatum, not wishing to see his pity—or whatever emotion he might feel toward a plain, dowerless woman such as she. “I am only five-and-twenty, not a spinster yet. No one will know of our betrothal, so there’ll be no repercussions. You’ll accompany me to his grandfather’s home. Mr. Tatum can present me to his grandfather, and we can slip away before anyone’s suspicions have been raised.”
“I will introduce you as the family of my comrade at arms should anyone visit while you’re there. I’m certain my aunt will agree to sponsor Miss Hallewell next Season if I tell her of some great service Gilbert did me on the battlefield. You see? This scheme will work to everyone’s benefit. I will inherit Sir Waldo’s business without being leg-shackled, and Miss Hallewell will have her Season.”
She was to have a London Season. The possibility was within her reach. The only thing lacking was Mama’s approval. She held her breath in anticipation of Mama’s agreement. Although she knew Mr. Tatum only a little, she trusted him to protect her reputation in such an arrangement, or Gilbert wouldn’t have suggested he ask her. Visiting Sir Waldo’s estate would be a holiday of sorts, a chance to live in the comfort she hadn’t known since she was a child.
Truthfully speaking, she’d never known the sort of comfort Sir Waldo must live in. The gossips claimed his income was far above her father’s. And the meager inheritance Father had left them meant she’d have to work the rest of her days or marry a local man who lived comfortably, if there were any men nearby she would consider. Hambledon didn’t have a lot to offer regardless of how pretty or accomplished a young lady was.
Her mother had been silent too long. All the excitement building inside Barbara began to fade. Despite all the possible problems, the chance to see London was too exciting to miss. “Mama, will you allow it? May we tell Sir Waldo we are engaged?”
At her mother’s quick shake of her head, her dark ringlets bounced about her neck where they escaped her bonnet. “I do not like this. There are too many ways it can go wrong, and you would be ruined. Then there are the specifics. Your wardrobe. You do not have enough fashionable gowns to dine at Sir Waldo’s table for weeks on end. He will wonder why his grandson has chosen someone beneath his notice.”
Mr. Tatum approached in long strides. “I’ll give Miss Hallewell an allowance generous enough to buy gowns, if she needs them, and anything else either of you requires. But Sir Waldo doesn’t leave his bed, so we needn’t dress as formally as you might fear. I daresay Miss Hallewell is beautiful enough that my grandfather won’t notice her attire.”
He thought she was beautiful? Heat crept up her neck just as butterflies fluttered
in her belly. No, it was more likely he was saying that for Mama’s benefit.
“But the servants will notice,” Mama insisted. “And servants will talk.”
“I’ll inform the butler to expect the mother and sister of my dear friend, who have come to enjoy the sea air while recovering from an ailment. If Sir Waldo says differently, one could blame it on his feeble mind. But the servants would never say anything to him directly, so it’s unlikely he’d have the chance to contradict anything we say.” Mr. Tatum remained standing in front of Mama, one eyebrow lifted as if he were speaking to a colleague rather than a prospective mother-in-law—a pretend prospective mother-in-law—awaiting her response.
Mama studied Barbara for an endless moment. “Are you certain you wish to do this?”
“It would mean so much to me to have a Season, Mama. Your father was a gentleman, so no one would look askance at Mrs. Granderson sponsoring me. I will have the chance, at last, to change our circumstances by being exposed to such gentlemen as we might meet in Town. Do say we’ll go with Mr. Tatum to Three Gables.”
Her mother’s features softened as a soft exhale slipped between her lips. “If it’s what you truly wish, I will allow it. But keep in mind I’m leery about this scheme. Something will go wrong. I know it.”
Barbara ignored the grim warning. There was hope for her future, hers and her mother’s. In all likelihood, she would be married by this time next year. She turned to Mr. Tatum, her grin so wide her lips hurt. “When do we depart?”
* * *
Please enjoy this excerpt of His Impassioned Proposal, the first book in The Bridgethorpe Brides series.
Excerpt: His Impassioned Proposal
Aileen Fish
His Impassioned Proposal
June 1803
Cheshire England
* * *
Fourteen-year-old Jane Marwick smoothed her palms down the crisp fabric of her pale pink gown with embroidered rose buds and narrow lace trim and sighed, feeling so grown up. She was certainly more grown up than Lady Hannah Lumley, whose eleventh birthday they were celebrating. Mama let Jane wear her hair up for the party, but refused to allow her maid to pin jewels among the forced curls.
“In a few years when you’re invited to dance in someone’s ballroom you shall be adorned with diamonds and pearls, but in a garden, one must restrain one’s desire to overdress. You’ll be more to your advantage allowing your natural beauty to show.”
Natural beauty. If Mama could see it, Jane hoped others could, too, but it certainly didn’t show in the reflection in her mirror. In particular, she hoped one Stephen Lumley, cousin to her best friend and neighbor Lady Hannah, had noticed. Just the thought of Stephen gave her butterflies, and the sight of him sent those butterflies dancing in the wind. He was so handsome. His thick black hair picked up the sunlight in streaks of silver, and his deep brown eyes were so very expressive. She had to admit the emotion she was accustomed to seeing there was laughter, and often at her expense, but it made his eyes sparkle.
Spying him playing lawn bowls with Hannah’s brothers, Jane skipped across the neatly trimmed grass. “Hello, Stephen.”
“Jane.” He nodded his greeting, not looking away from where his ball rolled. “Knightwick, I vow you won’t beat that pitch.”
Lord Knightwick prepared to toss his ball toward the smaller one that was their target while David and Stephen watched. Jane refused to be ignored. That might have been fine in the past, but she was nearly a grown woman now. While she didn’t expect the boys to suddenly fawn over her, at least Stephen could notice her new dress. “May I join in the next game?”
“Of course,” David answered. “Why don’t you see if Hannah would also like to play?”
Knightwick and David were Hannah’s older brothers, and were as handsome as their cousin, but Jane didn’t feel the same response when she spoke to one of them. Knightwick was much too old to even consider as a possible beau at twenty-one years old. Only a few months older than Stephen, David was closer to her own age, but none of the three demonstrated they felt anything for her beyond that of their sister’s friend.
Mama said she was too young to think about beaus, but as much as she tried, Jane couldn’t convince her heart of that. Hannah understood how she felt, but was likely only humoring her desperate need for attention. Hannah still enjoyed playing with dolls in the nursery with her younger sisters.
Determined to spend time with Stephen, she said, “That’s a lovely idea. Hannah and I could team up with you and David. It wouldn’t be fair for Hannah and me to play against the two of you, since you’re older and have sharper skills, so Stephen and I could be one team and Hannah and David the other.”
“David and I play equally well,” Stephen said, “so the resulting difference in score would be no different than if you girls played without us.”
He was such a stubborn boy. She might allow him this win, but she had the rest of the afternoon to be close to him.
Nothing anyone said would keep Jane away from Stephen’s side whenever they were both at Bridgethorpe Manor, Hannah’s home and Jane’s closest neighbor. In recent months she’d admit she visited there as much in hope of seeing him as her best friend.
When the party moved inside for cakes and lemonade, she made certain she sat close to him. “What is that you’re eating?” she asked, setting down her dish at the small table where he and David were.
“Strawberry trifle. Surely you can see that.”
She swiped the tip of his nose with her napkin. “If I had, I would have been careful not to embarrass myself with the whipped cream.”
His grin made her want to find Hannah and giggle over how his smile affected her. She fisted her hands in her lap to refrain from doing something so childish. “Will you be playing cards later?”
Stephen looked askance at David, who turned to stare out the window while biting back a smile. “I haven’t decided what I’ll do next. Doesn’t Hannah want to play with you?”
“Hannah is a mere girl and I’m a young lady now.” How could he not see the obvious truth of that? “I should associate with the older people now.”
David coughed and stood to leave. “Ask Mother what activities she has planned for the older guests, Jane. Although since it’s Hannah’s birthday, I’m sure she would enjoy your company.”
Jane twisted her lips with guilt and her stomach burned, realizing her rudeness. She’d almost forgotten the party was for Hannah. Her friend sat in a small gather of other girls, so at least she wasn’t alone, but Jane was her closest friend and she needed to be more considerate. And she would be, just as soon as she was bored with Stephen’s company.
Since he and David were gone most of the year at school, she looked forward to spending as much time as possible with him during the summer. The older they got, however, the more he and David stayed away from the girls, making it quite clear they didn’t want their company. It hurt to be set aside like an old toy.
Studying him from the corner of her eye, Jane reached for her glass, only to tip it over. Lemonade spread on the lovely damask linen tablecloth almost as quickly as heat rose on Jane’s face. She jumped to blot the spill with her napkin. Stephen rose to help, and between them they had most of the mess cleaned by the time a footman appeared to finish the work.
Jane stepped closer to Stephen, folding her arms across her chest in frustration. “Drat. I shall never learn to deport myself as a lady. Mama keeps telling me that, but I refuse to listen. I’m determined to accomplish this before we go to Town for my Season.” If she couldn’t carry herself with elegant style, she would never find a husband. Even an old friend such as Stephen would look beyond her for a wife if she couldn’t move with grace.
“When are you travelling to Town? There might still be enough time.”
“In four years, when I’m eighteen, of course. I hope Papa will let me go when I’m only seventeen, but he is adamant I wait.” Papa was her biggest frustration when it came to matters of becoming an a
dult. Mama was much more agreeable to letting Jane act mature, but Papa still called her his little girl.
Stephen choked on his lemonade and set down his class as he fell into a brief coughing fit. When he found his voice again his lips twitched when he spoke. “You have plenty of time to practice.”
“Will you be in Town for the Season?”
“In…four years?” His brown eyes laughed at her, but it didn’t matter. He loved to tease, and since it meant he was paying attention to her, she accepted it.
“Yes.” Was he being obtuse? “Why would I care if you’re there before then? I hope to dance with you.”
“As it happens, it’s likely I won’t be in London for many years. More than four, to be certain.”
Her heart sank until she realized that meant he would be at home, which would allow her to see him year-round, or as often as he visited Bridgethorpe Manor. That would be much better than a few months in London, although she would be dressed in finery at the balls in Town and he would see how lovely she’d become. “Mayhap I can convince Mama to have an assembly here in the autumn when the weather is still fine, once I’m old enough to attend.”
“I won’t be available to attend. I’ve joined the cavalry. I leave next week for the Continent.” He tore his gaze from hers and plucked a button on his coat so she couldn’t read his expression.
Jane’s mouth went dry and her head grew light as her blood pooled in her feet. He couldn’t have done something as…as foolish as that! Surely he was jesting. “That can’t be true. The cavalry? Why would you do something like that?”
“Why?” He looked at her as if she had two heads. “To protect king and country, of course. Isn’t that why most men go to battle?”
“Well, no. Some do it because it’s expected of them as a younger son. But you are your father’s only son. Don’t you plan to farm like he does?”