He approached cautiously. Despite Selina’s presence at his side he could almost feel the cold stares of the women upon him, their fear and uncertainty palpable.
‘Grandmother!’
Selina slipped away from him and the place where her hand had rested on his arm felt suddenly cold. She had held it there for mere minutes, and yet he felt a curious sense of loss at the withdrawal of her touch. Edward pulled his coat closer about himself, shrugging off the uncanny sensation. He must be getting tired... His mind was beginning to play tricks on him.
Selina was in the arms of an old woman, being folded into a fierce embrace. The woman was small and frail-looking, but with a similarity around the cheekbones that suggested a family connection. The embrace ended and the two began to talk. He heard the rise and fall of their voices, soft at first, but swelling to such a pitch that the neighbouring Roma glanced across in concern.
He thought he saw the glint of tears on Selina’s face, shining like rubies in the light of the fire, and turned away. You shouldn’t be here, he warned himself. You’ve played your part. Selina and her grandmother evidently had much to discuss, and none of it his business. He should enquire as to whether he could be of any further assistance and then leave these people in peace.
‘Mr Fulbrooke?’ Selina stood close to him, her fingers working in apprehension. The fire lit up one side of her face, making flames dance in one jet iris while throwing the other into shadow. ‘My grandmother told me what happened, and what you did to help us. We are so grateful.’
Edward smiled. ‘It was a pleasure.’ The tears had gone, he saw: she’d rubbed them away with the back of her hand when she’d seen him looking. There was softness under her tough facade, he was sure. Why was she so determined that he not see it?
‘We are forever in your debt.’
‘There is no debt, Miss Agres.’ He shook his head. ‘You were kind to my sister when she was in need and I’ve just shown the same kindness to you and yours.’
Selina nodded, although Edward saw unhappiness in the lovely oval of her face. The sight niggled at him, creating an uncomfortable feeling of concern that took him by surprise. ‘Has something else occurred?’ he asked.
‘Something else?’
‘You were so relieved before we arrived in camp. Now you’ve spoken with your grandmother and you seem distressed again. What has she said to you?’
‘It’s nothing that need trouble you.’ Selina’s voice was quiet and she looked away from him across the camp.
Edward followed her gaze to where a little girl was attempting to coax her trembling dog out from beneath a caravan, the wheels of which were scarred by the blade of an axe.
‘It’s only—they said they’d be back.’
‘What?’
Selina turned to him, her eyes huge with worry. ‘As they were leaving Grandmother heard them. They said it was only on your land that you would feel obliged to protect us, and that as soon as we moved they would come to find me.’
Edward felt his pulse quicken. Those two-faced, disobedient rogues. How dared they make new threats? How dared they try to get around his express word? And yet...
There isn’t much I can do to prevent it, he thought darkly. Edward couldn’t control what they did outside his estate, and short of catching them in the act he would have no concrete proof of their involvement in any future incidents.
Selina’s voice was hoarse. ‘It’s all my fault.’
‘It is not.’
‘Oh, but it is.’
She smiled then, a tight stretch of her lips filled with such sadness and fear that Edward felt another sharp stab of that something lance through his chest, only to flicker and fade the next moment.
‘Why do you say that?’
‘Because it’s me they want. And they’ll continue to hound us, over and over, until they find me.’
He gazed down at her. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the group of women watching him, Selina’s grandmother among them. Nobody seemed willing to come nearer, and the contrast between their wary distance and the way women of his own class clustered around him at any given opportunity was so absurd a part of him wanted to laugh.
The sight of Selina’s rigid face stopped him. ‘What is your plan?’ he asked.
She sighed—a long drawn-out shudder of breath that seemed to come all the way up from her toes. ‘I’ll have to give myself up to them. There is no other way.’
‘You cannot possibly!’ Edward stared at her, hardly able to express his disbelief. ‘You cannot mean that!’
‘What choice do I have?’ Selina stepped away from him, her face shuttered and blank. ‘Apparently I’ve made fools of them—and they won’t stop until they’ve proved they’re the victors and I’ve lost.’ She shook her head slowly. ‘They’ll continue to terrorise us when we leave here, and with the health of the babies and our menfolk’s jobs we can’t get far enough away to escape them. This is the only way.’
Edward passed a hand through the tousled thatch of his hair. Selina had given him a brief outline of the Roma’s current situation as they had ridden out from Blackwell. To move the community now would indeed spell disaster.
‘So, you see, it’s what I must do. Grandmother forbids it, of course.’ There was a ghost of that terrible smile again. ‘But I won’t allow a repeat of what happened tonight.’
It was unthinkable. Edward paced a few steps away from her, noting with perverse amusement the way the group of women standing nearby flinched backwards. She couldn’t. The very idea that Selina would consider sacrificing herself for the good of her community was madness.
A commendable sentiment, Edward thought, but utter madness.
The fact that he couldn’t see how to prevent it from happening pained him more than he cared to admit. He had no choice other than to acknowledge that she was a remarkable woman, quite unlike any he’d met before, and the notion of her in such danger was abhorrent to him. Of course she would face that danger bravely—there was that damned flicker of admiration again—but still...
If only there was a way he could reliably intervene...a set of circumstances that meant Harris and Milton could never touch her and she would be permanently out of their reach...
They would continue to hunt Selina, of that he was certain. Their lust for vengeance for her perceived victory and the pull of that generations-strong prejudice was too powerful. Neither common decency nor the pleas of their wives would prevent them from attempting to punish Selina and the other Roma. She had escaped them not once, but twice, and now their resolve would be firm.
No doubt it was the rumours of his family’s mistreatment of the Roma that had made the men feel safe in persecuting them, Edward mused darkly. Charles had done something terrible, and Ambrose had all but chased the travellers off his land. Their prejudices had been clear to all—perhaps people suspected that Edward shared their sentiments.
The idea that he might so easily have followed their unthinking bigotry was uncomfortable. Thank goodness I was taught better than that, he thought, his eyes on Selina’s silent face.
His childhood Romani friends had done him that favour, by including him in their play and allowing him to be himself in a way frowned upon at his austere home.
And that little Roma girl who showed me such rare kindness will never know the difference she particularly helped to make.
Her tender care of him was something he hadn’t experienced at Blackwell Hall; his mother had been only occasionally attentive, in a detached sort of way, and Ambrose had never so much as lain an affectionate hand on his shoulder.
The thought of his father caused a pain in his chest Edward could have done without, and resentment swelled within him once again as the contents of that enraging final letter ran through his head.
Having been temporarily replaced by the severity of Selina’s situation, his own t
roubles now returned to the forefront of his mind with a vengeance, and Edward felt his insides twist with renewed anger at the late Squire’s meddling. Time was running out for him to claim his inheritance—a needless pressure born out of one man’s obsession with control.
But Edward was his own master and always had been—that was what his father had hated so much. To make Edward obey him in death in a way he hadn’t managed in life would have been Ambrose’s final victory.
An idea exploded into Edward’s consciousness with such vigour he could have sworn he heard it. Of course. It was so simple—and wouldn’t it neatly solve Selina’s problem at the same time as his own?
He would obey his father’s will to the letter—right down to the final dot of the final ‘i’. He would marry as instructed—but not to the kind of woman Ambrose would have so ardently desired, nor one in any way reminiscent of the lady who had taken his heart only to grind it into dust.
It was risky. People wouldn’t like it. Certainly his father would have been beside himself with rage. But the opinion of society had never mattered much to Edward and, given the desperate circumstances of both parties involved, it now mattered even less. There was even some satisfaction to be taken in knowing he was, as always, acting according to his own wishes—dictated to by nobody but himself.
‘Miss Agres?’
Selina had turned away from him. Standing before the fire, only her silhouette was visible to Edward’s gaze, outlined in sparks and tongues of curling flame. He could see the tension in her back and knew it was only by sheer willpower that she was maintaining her composure.
‘Yes.’
‘I think I may have a solution to your current dilemma—depending on your answers to two questions.’
‘Have you?’ Her tone was flat and devoid of curiosity. ‘And what would those questions be?’
Edward ignored how dull she sounded, feeling his hopes beginning to build. ‘The first is: What is your age?’
She didn’t turn to look at him, her eyes still fixed on the flames before her. ‘How is that of any relevance?’
‘Please. Humour me.’
She sighed, as though it was an effort to find the words to reply. ‘Very well. I am recently turned twenty.’ The fire crackled, sending sparks swirling into the night sky. ‘Your second question?’
Edward reached for her. At the first touch of his hand on her shoulder Selina jumped and swung round to face him, a frown of distrust clouding her features. Edward smiled as the expression in her dark eyes, at first wary and fearful, turned to frozen astonishment as she watched him drop to one knee and take her small hand in his own.
‘Selina Agres. Will you marry me?’
Chapter Four
‘I—What? What did you say?’
Selina gaped at him, feeling her mouth drop open in shock. Had she misheard? Surely he could never have said what she thought he’d—
‘I said, will you marry me?’
She stared downwards, first at Edward’s intent face and then at their hands, joined together in a clasp uncomfortably like that of a pair of lovers. His hand was so much larger and yet it held hers so gently—almost tenderly, a disloyal voice in the back of her mind murmured.
To her horror, a sensation not unlike the warmth of a fledgling fire kindled beneath Edward’s firm fingers, flickering against her skin and stealing upwards towards her arm. The feeling crept higher, warming her against her will, until it reached her chest and settled there, burning inside her with an inexplicable heat that sent her heart fluttering.
On the very edge of her field of vision she could just make out Zillah, watching them in uncharacteristically mute shock, for all the world as though she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Selina wasn’t sure she believed it either. He couldn’t be serious—of course he couldn’t. Whatever had possessed him to make such a cruel joke at such a moment?
‘Have you run mad?’ The flickering embers of sensation sparked further, beginning to smoulder, and Selina snatched her hand from Edward’s grasp, cradling it against her body with the other as though he had truly burnt her with his touch. ‘Or do you think to mock me?’
‘Neither, I hope.’ Edward rose lightly to his feet again, and Selina took a step backwards, out of his long reach. He didn’t attempt to come closer, but instead regarded her calmly as she glared at him. ‘I asked in earnest.’
‘No! Of course my answer is no—how could you have expected otherwise?’
‘Because I think it would be helpful to both of us if you were to accept my offer.’
She stared at him, taking in the sincerity of his expression, and some private part of her regretted that such a face should be wasted on a madman. How on earth could he imagine his question to be helpful? Surely a proposal of marriage was the absolute opposite of a helpful suggestion? And yet there Edward stood, apparently entirely sober and set on his ridiculous request.
Selina’s heart thrummed in her ears as she stood, silent, hearing the hostile muttering of the watching Romani women as they hovered a short distance away. Edward must have been able to hear them too, but he gave no sign as he waited for her reply, arms folded across his invitingly broad chest.
‘How could that possibly be helpful?’
Edward glanced towards the nearby cluster of Roma and dropped his voice to a low murmur. ‘It would solve problems for both of us.’ He nodded engagingly, the light of the fire on his hair making it shine like burnished gold. ‘I think we could both benefit if we were to come to an understanding.’
Selina narrowed her eyes, taking in the calm patience of his face. What problems could a pampered gentleman have that would reduce him to pinning his hopes on a Roma girl, of all people?
When she didn’t reply he continued. ‘I am in need of a wife in order to meet the terms of my father’s will and retain my inheritance.’
Edward spoke lightly, but something in the set of his jaw increased Selina’s suspicions.
‘I thought if you were to help me navigate the issue I could do something for you in return.’
Navigate the issue? Selina opened her mouth to speak, but found she had no words. He must be a madman indeed; what other explanation could there be?
Her voice, when she finally trusted herself to speak, was strained. ‘I see. Or rather, I don’t see—not at all. Why me? What do you think you could do in return that would ever persuade me to accept you?’
His answer was not one she had anticipated.
‘I am willing to extend an invitation for your people to stay on my land, under my protection, so your camp will not have to move during the winter months.’
Edward spoke quietly but with a conviction that made Selina pause.
‘You, in turn, would be safe with me at Blackwell Hall until the spring, when we might annul our marriage, and then you would be free to leave with the rest of the Roma. By that time your menfolk will have completed their assignments, and your people will be able to travel far enough away to avoid any further trouble.’
Selina felt all the breath leave her body as she froze, pinned to the spot by his words. No. He couldn’t offer her that. How could he?
‘You jest. You can’t promise me—’
‘I can, and I do.’
Edward’s face was grave, and Selina felt her heart check as his solemnity only served to enhance her appreciation of his sharp features.
‘Without your help I will have to forfeit this entire estate. I ask for you to become my wife in name only, and not forever. My father’s will specifies that I must marry, but it gives no indication of how long I must retain a wife after the fact.’ A glint of something like wry humour passed over his face. ‘Please believe I have explored every loophole in the legalities. An annulment can follow in the spring, so long as we admit you were under the age of twenty-one and did not have your father’s permission to marry.’
Selina swallowed. He had played his cards well—he must have known that this was the one thing he could offer her that she would be tempted to accept. A whole winter without the worry of being moved on? The men would be able to keep their jobs, and the sick Roma babies would be safe—even the threat of the gamekeepers’ mob would vanish. The only thing standing in the way was herself.
If she were to accept Edward’s offer she would be ensuring the immediate future of the entire camp. Wouldn’t that be worth the sacrifice? All their lives in exchange for living a lie for a few months?
But what would those few months cost her? To live with Edward, to marry him, would be to go against everything she had felt about the gentry ever since that fateful day twelve years before.
She could see, if all pretence to the contrary was abandoned, why a woman might be tempted by his offer, and even she might have considered it had he belonged to any other class. His physicality was compelling, and there was something in his look that seemed to call to her.
Even as he stood before her, awaiting her reply with quiet dignity, Selina felt drawn to him in a way that she couldn’t explain. Never before had a man managed to affect her so powerfully, pulling her in even as she tried to dismiss him. It was beyond confusing, and a temptation like none she had ever known before.
But to marry him would be to forget almost an entire lifetime of suspicion and resentment and willingly enter into the lions’ den of her worst enemy. And what of Mama? Selina’s heart ached at that question.
Edward’s a Fulbrooke, and it was a Fulbrooke who killed Mama—or as good as killed her.
That his face made her want to stare shouldn’t matter one bit, and the fact that the urge to reach out and touch the scar that gleamed on his cheek still called to her wasn’t something she should even consider.
‘Selina—Miss Agres. It comes down to this: you don’t want your people to come to any harm and I don’t appreciate being forced to marry according to somebody else’s wishes. If you accept my proposal both of us will be delivered from situations not of our choosing.’
The Marriage Rescue Page 6