Compromised Into Marriage (HQR Historical)

by Liz Tyner

  For Ella Etta to take food from the estate was one thing, but she’d overstepped her bounds.

  He no longer felt angry at anyone but Ella Etta. He would discuss this with her.

  He saw Vivian, imagining her through a different viewpoint. And, he could almost hear Ella Etta’s mind humming. She would see nothing wrong in picking out a wife for him. She would think as other people who saw Vivian. Vivian would be a wonderful wife for the right man and the crone viewed it as her duty to tell the sun how to rise and the moon when to set.

  ‘Let us go visit Ella Etta.’ He felt himself tense at the words. He would make her tell Vivian the curse wasn’t real. Vivian had been ill. She didn’t need such nonsense hanging over her head.

  ‘We’ll rid you of the hag’s threat,’ he said. He had to be careful. If he spent more time with Vivian, he knew that when he rid Vivian of the problem with the trickster, he would be adding another one for himself.

  ‘I doubt my father would agree easily for me to go anywhere with you. But I will be at your house on Sunday morning. If we could travel then, it will be less likely to be noticed.’

  ‘This curse nonsense will stop,’ he reassured her. But before leaving, he took one last look at Vivian.

  Chapter Ten

  ‘Mother.’ Vivian walked into her mother’s bedchamber without knocking, knowing she would be surrounded by servants.

  A blast of heat from the fireplace hit Vivian’s cheeks.

  Her mother sat on the chaise longue, one hand extended at her side, her fingernails being trimmed by a maid. Another servant stood at the back of the chair, carefully massaging her mother’s temples. Vivian tried not to inhale. Her mother insisted gardenia calmed her and her room smelled of the scent.

  ‘I’ve a bit of...’ her mother said, wilting briefly, ‘...a concern on my mind. Nothing to worry yourself with. I’m almost beyond it.’

  Vivian tried not to breathe too deeply. Her father was doing so much better. ‘Is Father ill again?’

  Her mother chuckled. ‘No. Nothing like that.’

  ‘I cannot tell him that I wish to take a carriage ride with Lord Everleigh. I don’t want him more upset and I know he won’t understand.’

  This time her mother opened one eye, raising her head. ‘Are you thinking of marriage to him?’

  ‘We have discussed it. But, no.’

  ‘The only young man you had me invite to the soirée?’

  Vivian gave a sharp nod.

  Her mother relaxed back against the chaise. ‘Well, don’t take Mavis. And, whatever you do, don’t think to let him compromise you and expect a ring. That’s romantic foolishness. I would advise against meeting him. A man wants most what he cannot have, especially if it’s wrapped in as beautiful a package as you, Vivian. Remember that. Always be fierce in your heart.’ Then she threw up her hands. ‘But you are old enough to decide for yourself. I just don’t want you hurt.’

  ‘I don’t want anyone hurt—’

  Her mother shrugged and interrupted. ‘Dress warm. Don’t get chilled, it’ll make your nose red, and there’s nothing attractive about a dripping nose. And wear Mavis’s Sunday bonnet.’

  ‘That hideous one which droops so much she can barely see?’ Vivian asked, shaking her head.

  Her mother chuckled again. ‘Dear. Why do you think I had it made for her and pay her extra each time she wears it out of the house? Any time I wish to visit somewhere without being noticed I wear it and everyone assumes it is Mavis. It embellishes her reputation and protects mine.’

  ‘Father has asked the servants to alert him to anything I might do which is a change from my routine.’

  ‘That man.’ She relaxed again. ‘Don’t worry about the servants, dear. Just leave early before the house is awake on Sunday. Slip out in the darkness and send the carriage back so we can use it to go to services. Tell the carriage driver to be quiet as he readies the horses and he is to discuss it with me later, not your father. Return while we are at Sunday Services. Mavis will stay home. Your father will think the two of you are together. You must not let anyone else know you are disappearing. And, if this earl’s son doesn’t work out, I know the half-brother of a duke who we’ll consider.’

  Vivian pulled the door closed to the sound of her mother asking to be fanned.

  She longed to see Everleigh again, which, in its own way, might be a completely separate curse.

  * * *

  The silence in Everleigh’s carriage was more jarring than the ruts in the road, in Vivian’s opinion. The curtains were closed. Vivian sat against the squabs, interlacing her gloved fingers.

  The vehicle interior absorbed the darkness from the overcast skies. The ornate brass trim framed the gloom more than dispersing it.

  Everleigh sat across from her, wearing a frock coat, his beaver hat sitting on the squab beside him. He could walk in a blizzard and, if his countenance gave insight into him, he would leave puddles of melted snow in his wake.

  ‘By the end of the day, this will be over and soon will be forgotten. It is not your concern any more. I will see to that,’ Everleigh reassured her.

  ‘I will be so pleased when I can put this behind me and never travel this road again.’ She glimpsed out of the window, pushing the hideous hat backwards on her head. ‘I have no doubt that she saved my life, though.’

  He moved his legs, letting them stretch to the empty space under the rear-facing seat. His arms were crossed. ‘Ella Etta should share her mixtures, but keep her machinations to herself. She is not above—well, she’s old and she didn’t get that way by being senseless, or, in her case, sensible. She knows what she can get away with and what she can’t. She’s willing to try both. She had no right to scare you into thinking you had to wed.’

  This time, Vivian pressed her palm to the window and didn’t respond.

  That, Vivian decided, was the heart of the matter. Still watching the barren trees, she asked, ‘Do you truly have no intention to marry—ever?’

  ‘My brother can easily marry and have heirs. My father could even marry again and have children. Or the title can move to my cousin. It’s not as if it leaves the family. It’s a legacy passed down in my family so we can continue the heritage. My father more or less abandoned his birthright.’

  She checked to see if he jested, but no.

  ‘I have a brother and I can guide his children,’ Everleigh said. ‘I have suggested to my father that he try for more sons.’

  ‘You told your father to select a new wife?’

  ‘Of course. Seems a logical way for him to have heirs if he wishes it. Add a few more sons to the lineage. A safety aspect. He’s pressed me to wed. When I gave in, I almost ended up with Alexandria.’

  ‘I’m surprised he hasn’t remarried.’

  ‘He has a mistress. He didn’t choose to marry her after my mother died, when they could have had children. He felt she wasn’t of suitable lineage for a society wife—not worthy of providing heirs. After all, his first wife had had beauty and funds. He has high standards.’

  ‘But did the marriage make him happy?’

  ‘Happier than he would have been with a poor and plain wife, I’m certain.’

  ‘But if he cares for a mistress and now he has the money...’

  ‘He doesn’t have the money, I do. As for his sweetheart, I suspect he believes his mistress cares for him for himself, as she requires negligible attention. He married my mother for her funds and she married him for his title, and they tolerated each other like two privileged people put in the same pot with a fire heated under it.’

  Everleigh reached to push back his hat from where it had jostled near the edge of the seat. ‘My maternal grandfather called it a marriage of love. Grandfather loved the title and Father loved the money Mother brought.’

  ‘Did they bicker?’

  ‘Mother would flick her wrist,
behold Father longingly across the table and say to him, “If only you’d been a duke.” Father would smile and tell her, sadly, that her father only had enough funds to purchase an earl. The conversation was always pleasant and always aimed for the jugular. I think they enjoyed it.’

  She grimaced, flicking at a piece of road dust near the window. ‘It seems lonely for them. Matrimony should provide a friend. Not an enemy close at hand. That gave you a bad memory of marriage.’

  ‘Vivian. Men can have solitude. Soldiers. Sailors. Men who cannot afford a wife and family. I would suppose I have less of it than they do and I prefer my life. Vastly. When I told Ella Etta I wasn’t going to marry Alexandria, the old woman must have decided to find me a wife.’

  ‘I wished to marry until I became ill. Then I felt so trapped. Both by my body and my parents. I love my parents and understand their actions completely. Yet, now I know that I could be happiest unmarried. I’m alive. I’m mostly alone, because my friends tired of asking me to do things with them as I refused so many times. But I’m well.’

  ‘It’s expected of you to wed.’ His voice, a low drawl, said the words as if that explained away every feeling she had.

  ‘As it is of you, Your Lordship.’ She raised her chin.

  He shook his head, but it was in total agreement with her words. ‘Expected, but not a requirement to be an earl.’ He quickly dismissed her words.

  And, she realised, it was only the curse that had aligned them together, even if it wasn’t in the expected way. The curse and the kiss.

  He shifted forward, covering her hand with his. ‘I understand that you were ill, but you still agreed to wed me. Much like my parents agreed to marry. I don’t find fault with you for it, but it does bring back the memories of my parents sparring with each other every day my mother lived.’

  ‘Forgive me. I didn’t know.’

  Slowly he trailed his hand up her arm, to her elbow, then stopped at the hem of her sleeve. His grasp closed around her, creating an imprisonment she could never have expected from such a light touch. Every time her heart beat, fire inside her ignited under his hand.

  ‘So delicate.’ He let his fingers trail down a few inches. ‘And yet, so much stronger than before. I believe Ella Etta saved you, too. I believe it completely. She seems to have an innate understanding of mixtures. For generations the women in her family have studied healing herbs and she even knows what apothecaries mix, and sometimes obtains their cures. I hope she meant you no ill will by cursing you with me. But that is what it would be for you. A true curse.’

  His other hand reached to touch her cheek. ‘I saw the mistake of a marriage with my parents’ union and, when I considered it for myself, I chose someone I could hardly like. Just as they did. That wasn’t an accident, I’m sure. I wanted the expected wife, but not the marriage. I’m fortunate to have discovered it before it was too late.’

  She edged closer. ‘If you considered Alexandria for a wife, I would say you erred. And...’ she shrugged ‘...I did pursue you much the same as she did. Please forget that.’

  His lips parted, but he didn’t speak at first. Instead, he examined her. ‘The first meeting... That was a surprise and had a pleasant ending.’ Emotion laced his words. ‘I’ll not be kissing you again if you continue to wear that hat. It’s daunting.’

  ‘The strings untie. Imagine that.’

  ‘You look chilled.’

  ‘The morning is cooler than I expected.’

  ‘Would you like my coat or would you prefer us to sit closer?’

  ‘Closer.’

  He moved.

  ‘So vibrant.’ His hand skimmed the spot where hers had been. His brows rose. ‘You once asked for a kiss.’

  ‘Only as a last dying wish. It meant a lot to me.’

  ‘Well...’ He touched her jaw, running a finger down one side of it and up the other. ‘If I were dying, I could see my last wish as being a kiss from you. A reason to go on living.’

  The distance between them lessened again.

  ‘Is a second one ever as good as the first?’ she asked. ‘Not that I’m asking for another. Just curious.’

  He took her chin in his hand and pulled her closer. ‘You should be the judge of that.’

  The carriage jostled at the same moment he moved forward, almost thrusting him against her, but he maintained his position. He reached up, balancing with one arm, and untied the bonnet, pulling it back from her face, tossing away the covering and leaning in.

  His lips took hers, soft and sweet for only an instant before his body moved further forward, his mouth angling, taking her, and then his tongue dipped into her mouth.

  When he pulled away, she almost moved with him and discovered her hands gripping the front of his coat.

  Her fingers wouldn’t loosen and he remained poised, not relaxed back in his seat, but close enough that he could move forward again in less than a second.

  ‘I am fascinated by you.’ Everleigh’s voice flowed. ‘I don’t know if it’s the depth I see in your eyes, or your mouth, or just a fascination with the way you’ve blossomed since we first met. I imagine, falsely, that somehow I’ve helped you regain your health. But I can’t play with fire and I won’t hurt you.’

  ‘So far, I have enjoyed your company.’ She released her hold on his coat. ‘But I think it would be preferable if you spoke more fluff.’

  ‘That’s what I mean. You deserve someone who can say those tender words.’

  She crossed her arms. ‘I’m not sure I only want to hear them. I think I want to live them instead.’

  He smiled, then folded one arm over the other and stretched out a leg to one side of her, but didn’t brush her skirts. ‘As you wish.’

  Those were the last words he spoke until they reached the camp.

  His smile captured her when he helped her from the carriage. ‘I’ll make sure you’re confident you have no fear of anything she might do.’

  They came closer to the group. Ella Etta stepped out, scratching her back, and giving a sigh. When they stopped in front of her, she said, ‘Everleigh. I have missed you. And your betrothed.’ She squinted at Vivian, frowning.

  Next, she looked around. ‘Please, pull up a stump and we’ll talk.’

  Everleigh used both hands, and hefted the makeshift seat back from the fire so his boots would be able to stay out of the ash. He lifted another stump, placed it and held out his arm for Vivian to sit.

  She chose to sit furthest from Ella Etta.

  ‘I hear you have told Vivian she must marry me.’ He made himself comfortable on the stump, stretching his legs.

  Ella Etta’s head bobbed around like a twig on water. ‘The idea doesn’t agree with you like I hoped.’

  ‘And you threaten her family?’

  ‘I have never hurt a girl. Never would. You know that, Everleigh.’

  He nodded. ‘I know. She doesn’t. Probably because you said something about a death curse to her earlier.’

  ‘And she still sent a friend my way...’ She cackled. ‘That was wise of you, miss, or not, depending on how a body views it.’

  ‘I would send no friend your way,’ Vivian said.

  ‘What are you talking about?’ Everleigh asked.

  ‘Miss Alexandria came to visit me. I read her palm.’ She laughed. ‘I told her she must go on a long journey. She must start it soon. A gunshot into the air above will kill the spirits that put love into her.’ She kicked a boot towards Everleigh. ‘Her heart will be free of you for ever. I saw no reason not to tell her a few truths and a few lies.’ She glanced at Vivian. ‘I mixed a bundle of thorns for her. It was an unlove potion.’ She shrugged. ‘I had to do something to get her to leave.’

  ‘Why didn’t you send me a message that Alexandria had been here?’ Everleigh asked.

  ‘The girl is a lovely heiress. It is ridiculous for her t
o form an attachment to a man who doesn’t want her.’

  ‘I suppose you do not consider me as falling into that category or you would not have asked me to pursue Everleigh.’ Vivian frowned.

  She scrutinised Vivian. ‘Everleigh was on my mind.’

  ‘You said I’d die if I didn’t marry him.’

  ‘Girl. We all die. Some soon. Some late. Haven’t you noticed?’

  ‘You put a curse on me.’ Vivian pulled her shoulders tight.

  ‘I will show you my magic.’ Ella Etta held up both hands, made into fists, then splayed her fingers abruptly. ‘Poof. You are a rabbit. I put that curse on you.’ She asked Everleigh, ‘Do you not think she makes a lovely rabbit?’

  He didn’t speak or move, but Vivian saw the humour escaping.

  Ella Etta waved a hand, leaning towards Vivian. ‘You are a rabbit. You just do not have a looking glass to see. Now I conjure you into a person.’ She waved her hand again. ‘I should ask next time what creature you want. The children love it. They hop around for hours. Everleigh always had to be a bear, though.’ She groaned. ‘But I did it for him. I tell the children that as soon as they leave my sight they turn back into a child.’

  Lips closed, arms crossed, he gave a good imitation of a growl.

  ‘See,’ Ella Etta said. ‘He liked that. Even then, he did.’

  Vivian looked around her. Trees. Leaves. Sky. Earth. Normal. The woman in front of her, a slippery swindler.

  ‘You want to be a rabbit again?’ Ella Etta asked.

  ‘You put a curse on me.’ She dropped her voice. ‘You said I had to marry.’

  ‘I remember, you near tripped over your skirts leaving so you could get on with it.’ She appraised Everleigh. ‘Thanked me, she did. Said she’d pay me to wed a stallion such as you.’

  He nodded sombrely.

  ‘You—’ Vivian wished she could manage a good curse. She glared at Ella Etta. ‘You said he had no heart and I’d die if I didn’t wed him.’

  Ella Etta shrugged. She spoke to Everleigh. ‘Couldn’t wipe the smile from off her face when I told her you were the man she must marry. She almost kissed my ring. Asked to pay me as well. Said she might throw in some coin.’