The Marriage Rescue

by Joanna Johnson

  The world seemed to have splintered into jagged fragments of light, shining in the flow of her tears. She leaned forward and grasped the stable door with both hands, overwhelmed by the grief and terror that threatened to fell her.

  Selina felt Edward’s arms come around her just as her legs gave way, all the breath escaping from her bursting lungs as he held her close to the firm column of his body. She knew she should push him away, force him to keep his distance, but the strength of his embrace was impossible to resist, and she allowed him to cradle her as sobs racked her body and grief overcame her powers of rational thought.

  Don’t let him, Lina! her subconscious screamed as she felt one of his hands come up to smooth the ebony silk of her hair away from her face, raising goosebumps on the sensitive skin of her neck with the power of one gentle touch.

  But it just felt so good to be held. The unshakable circle of his arms held her swaying body firmly upright, and as her sobs quieted she became aware of the beating of his heart close to her ear, a steady rhythm she found unaccountably soothing.

  ‘I am so sorry, Selina. More sorry than I can ever say.’

  One of his hands stroked her back, gentling her in the same way she would calm a frightened foal, and she gave herself up to the comfort it brought. Of all people, how was it that this man should be the one whose arms felt the most secure? she marvelled, half dazed by grief and innocent wonder. Each movement of his hand down her back left sparks in its wake, drawing a tingling line of fire down the column of her spine, and she found herself speechless in the face of her uncontrollable desire to remain there, safe in the protection of his arms.

  Some small part of her started at the realisation that she had never been held so close by a man before. Papa was the only male ever to have gathered her into his embrace, making her feel loved and protected from all who might wish to harm her. The sensation of utter security was the same now as it had been when Papa’s strong arms had chased away all her childhood fears, so complete and unquestionable that all words were stolen from Selina’s mouth.

  Pressed up against the warm planes of Edward’s body she could hardly move, but the horror of her last day with Diamanda felt more manageable now, the pain somehow more bearable, and the unlikely fact that it was Edward she had to thank left her stunned.

  He was looking down at her with the same intent expression he had worn when they had begun to dance, his attention so completely fixed on her that she felt her cheeks begin to burn. The deep hazel of his eyes held a world of compassion, and she saw her own sorrow reflected back at her in the mirror of his face.

  His lips were mere inches from hers. Selina felt something inside her will her to move, but to move towards him or away from him she couldn’t quite tell.

  The voice whispered louder. You could be the one to lose control this time. Why not just try...?

  * * *

  Seeing she had stopped crying, Edward gently put Selina from him. Delving into the pocket of his coat, he drew out another white handkerchief and passed it to her.

  She took it with one unsteady hand. ‘You won’t have many of these left at this rate.’

  ‘No. You’re amassing quite a collection.’

  Watching as Selina rubbed at her eyes in an unpolished movement took Edward straight back to the day she had found Ophelia. Then, standing in the gently stirring woods, he had been struck by her unrefined loveliness. His appreciation of her beauty had not diminished since. In fact, it seemed to be deepening—a fact that was becoming more and more difficult to fight.

  No wonder she was reluctant to tell me her story.

  Edward’s head spun as he tried to make sense of Selina’s words, their terrible meaning slotting into place like jigsaw pieces in his horrified mind.

  The Roma woman Charles had been rumoured to have harmed was Selina’s mother. It was his family’s fault that she had been forced to grow up without her mama. It was a horrible twist of fate, almost unbelievable, and yet no part of him suspected her of telling anything but the truth. Her emotion, so real and unashamed, could never have been faked. His own feelings swelled with pity, and with a burning guilt that tasted like bile in his throat.

  It had been a reflexive move to take her in his arms, driven by the sight of the tears that had torn at him in a way so unexpected it had almost caused him to gasp aloud. Selina’s grief was raw and true, not constrained by any upper-class notions of respectability. She had given him a glimpse into the deepest secrets of her heart, quite unlike any true-born lady, and Edward couldn’t help the way his own heart had leapt at this unfamiliar show of honesty.

  He had never before felt such compulsion, or been so instinctively moved by a display of emotion. Urged into action by the depth of her distress, he had felt himself richly rewarded by Selina’s surrender into his embrace.

  She’d felt so small and soft in his arms, so unlike the fiery creature he had argued with earlier. Both versions of her were lovely in their own way, each so different from the other, but nothing could have prepared him for how protective he’d felt as she’d cried against the silk of his waistcoat. In truth, as much as her tears had caused him a deep and very real concern, he could not deny that the chance to take her in his arms once more had been too tempting to ignore.

  ‘I came to tell you that I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have raised my voice to you and I shouldn’t have tried to force you into doing something you don’t want to. I was so set on escaping my own problems that I didn’t fully consider your feelings. I apologise.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Especially now, after what you’ve explained about your mother... For my uncle’s part in your family’s distress I have no words to express my shame and sorrow. I had no idea he was responsible for such a thing.’

  Selina was still playing with the damp handkerchief and she shook her head, avoiding his gaze as she spoke. ‘I should apologise, too. You only wanted me to fulfil my part of our arrangement. You couldn’t have known what happened to Mama.’

  Edward rubbed the back of his neck, unsure of what to say. What could one say to a woman who had just poured out the worst experience of her entire life to a man who had, only minutes earlier, been cursing her for her apparent pig-headedness?

  A fresh current of guilt coursed through him, alongside the intense pity. No wonder she had mistrusted him, had hesitated before accepting his hand. No wonder her entire camp had looked at him as though he were a monster prowling among them, related as he was to the one who had caused them such grief.

  To undergo such an appalling ordeal at all was abhorrent; to be aged eight at the time was even worse. Another wave of sympathy for the devastated woman he had cradled in his arms crashed over him. Edward thought back to his own childhood, casting through his memories for pictures of himself at a similar age. His mother hadn’t left yet; that had come later. Edward had only dim memories of flavoured ices in summer and candied fruits at Christmas, interspersed by a jumble of Roma playmates and fat, placid ponies. No tragedies at all.

  ‘Even so. I should have behaved better.’

  Selina had moved to stand at Djali’s head and was blindly stroking his wiry forelock. She still looked so small, so fragile, and so unlike her usual self that Edward felt a powerful burst of protectiveness roar up inside him, rising to mix with the disgust for his uncle that circled in the pit of his stomach. It was close to nausea, what he felt for the man who had caused so much harm, and he could have growled in grim satisfaction at successfully keeping the Blackwell inheritance out of Charles’ hands.

  He will never be welcome here again, he resolved, even as he tried to swallow down the renewed urge to take his wife in his arms and hold her close once again. The moment had passed. There could be no excuse to allow himself such dangerous weakness now. He had indulged his secret desires too far already, and it was with an unpleasant jolt he feared his touch might have been unwelcome.

  How could she bear for
him to be near her after what she had just revealed?

  ‘Where does this leave us?’ she asked.

  Edward wrenched his attention away from his unwanted thoughts. ‘Leave us?’

  ‘Yes. You wanted me to venture out with you. Publicly.’

  Was that a blush he saw cross her cheekbones?

  ‘Do you still?’

  He shook his head with all the conviction he could muster. There was no way he would pursue his previous aim—not now he knew the reason for her reluctance. The sight of her face, still tearstained and slightly ruddy with distress, increased the guilt twisting in his gut.

  ‘I would never expect you to accompany me to the assembly rooms now, in light of your revelation.’

  ‘But it would make things easier for us if I did?’

  Edward hesitated. There could be no pretence: Selina knew how set he had been on the idea, and he knew her well enough by now to realise she wouldn’t appreciate being lied to. ‘I can’t deny that it would.’

  ‘I see.’ Half of Djali’s forelock had been braided into a neat plait by her careful fingers. ‘So it truly would be in our best interests to establish this connection in the minds of others?’

  She appeared to be considering something. Edward waited.

  ‘Perhaps I could propose a compromise.’ She glanced at him—a swift, cautious look, as though taking his measure. ‘In light of your apology.’

  Edward’s spirits rose just the tiniest fraction. A compromise? From the distinctly uncompromising Selina? ‘What would you suggest?’

  ‘I would be prepared to accompany you on a walk. I don’t want to visit anybody, and I won’t be displayed like a fairground attraction in any assembly rooms either.’ She held up a warning hand. ‘But a walk... That I will do.’

  Relief mingled with puzzlement surged within him. A walk would be better than nothing; indeed, it might even turn out to be better than his own original scheme. They would see more people out walking than sitting in some stuffy room, and Selina would be far more relaxed out in the open air. It was an excellent suggestion. But why had she changed her mind?

  ‘I would appreciate that very much indeed.’ He knew the relief must have shown on his face.

  Selina gave him the smallest of smiles before wiping it quickly from her lips with a touch of what struck him as confusion.

  ‘Very good. I shall leave it up to you to decide where and when we shall have our outing.’

  Edward bowed with all the courtesy he had been trained to show. The idea of half of society clustering at his home was unpleasant. Many of them were the same faces he had encountered on social calls with Letitia, and Selina’s willingness to oblige him was as welcome as it was confusing.

  ‘I didn’t think you would change your mind.’

  The look she gave him was strange. Not challenging, as had been her usual expression, and not anxious, either, as it had been earlier that afternoon. It was closer to thoughtful.

  Edward felt the hairs on the back of his neck stir under her scrutiny, unable to read the expression in her dark Romani eyes.

  ‘Neither did I. My only hope is that I won’t live to regret it.’

  Chapter Eight

  Warwick was teeming with people, and Edward felt Selina’s anxiety as they continued their stroll along the busy street.

  He took in the sight of his wife, more demure than he had ever seen her before in the respectable navy cloak and prim bonnet rescued from Maria’s expansive pile of cast-offs. Selina had raised an eyebrow when Dinah had helped her into them, but she had eventually accepted their necessity.

  Gossiping servants were one thing, but Edward would not have Selina exposed to upper-class ridicule when a simple change of clothing could prevent it. Nobody glancing at her would guess she was anything other than a lady born and bred, and he felt a wry appreciation for the way the dark blue served to enhance the raven of her hair.

  Of course you’d notice that. Why does that come as no surprise?

  ‘Would you take my arm? I can see you’re not enjoying this. We won’t stay much longer.’

  Edward caught the flash of gratitude in the glance Selina threw him, accompanied by a quick nod. Her small fingers reached up and slotted into the crook of his arm, sending a thrill of that unnamed something skittering beneath his skin, and he took a moment to marvel at how far their relationship had come.

  On the night the Roma camp had been attacked, she had only touched him under the greatest duress; now she barely hesitated before entrusting him to guide her along the busy street. He wasn’t sure whether to smile or frown that her trust in him had evidently increased so much, or that his chest swelled with something suspiciously close to pride at the thought. Ever since she had told him of her mother’s fate he had tried harder still to repress his growing regard for her, more certain than ever that any hint of it would be unwelcome.

  Selina was all eyes as they made their leisurely progress past shops and houses. Everywhere she looked there were new things to be seen, and her curiosity made Edward feel as though he too was surveying the scene with fresh eyes. Selina’s head moved back and forth as she took in the carriages that trundled past, the enticing displays in shop windows, the costly fabrics of passing ladies’ clothes—all things Edward had taken for granted for twenty-four years and rarely given a second glance.

  Perhaps, although her almost childlike interest was tempered by the wariness he could feel radiating from her, he might dare to wonder if she might not be finding their outing such an unbearable ordeal after all...

  ‘Good morning, Mr Fulbrooke!’

  Edward felt Selina flinch as an older man and woman suddenly cut across them, the man’s voice ringing out above the rattle of a passing barouche. He brought his hand up to cover her fingers, pressing them closer to the material of his coat, and felt them grasp tightly.

  ‘Good morning, Mr Egerton... Mrs Egerton.’

  Edward tipped his hat to the elderly couple, still feeling the vice-like grip of Selina’s fingers on his arm. He saw how the woman’s eyes widened in powerful curiosity, apparently absorbing every detail of Selina’s face and clothes—in order to tell her friends about them later, Edward had no doubt—before they had passed by and moved out of sight.

  Edward looked down at Selina, at her hand still gripping the material of his coat. ‘That was Mr and Mrs Egerton. I was at school with their son Henry, the biggest blowhard you might ever have the misfortune to meet.’

  He saw the corners of her lips twitch a little, the unease draining from her face, and felt relief wash over him. She had looked so startled by Mr Egerton’s braying upper-class voice—not that he could blame her. The man was known in Edward’s circle to be a human foghorn.

  ‘Mrs Egerton is a determined gossip, so the news that she’s seen my mysterious new wife will be all around town by nightfall.’

  Selina gave a dry laugh. ‘I’m glad to know it. The more people we see today, the fewer will come to call on us at Blackwell, I would hope.’

  ‘That’s certainly my desire.’

  They walked on for a while in companionable silence, until Edward felt Selina give a small shiver. ‘Are you cold?’

  ‘A little.’ She peeped up at him, eyes dark beneath the brim of her bonnet. ‘I understand they would have seemed a little out of place, but no cloak is as warm as my own shawls.’

  ‘I see.’ Edward nodded, dismissing the smile that attempted to curve his lips upward.

  He could just imagine the scandalised looks his wife would have attracted had she ventured out in her usual wardrobe, and Selina’s indignant reaction was one he could all too easily picture.

  ‘I think we should return to the carriage. You’ve indulged me quite enough.’

  Selina’s pert expression told Edward exactly what she thought of that notion, but she said nothing as he turned her gently and guided
her back through the busy streets. She had more than upheld her end of their bargain, even going so far as to muster a passable attempt at a smile for some of the acquaintances they had passed during their walk. Edward couldn’t fault her in that regard, and it was an enjoyable sensation to know that Selina had undertaken such a thing for his benefit when at one time the idea would have been unthinkable.

  As they approached the place where the carriage awaited them Edward saw his coachman standing with hands on hips, looking over one of the pair of handsome black horses with a frown.

  ‘Is something the matter?’

  The coachman, a stout individual named Greene, looked round at Edward’s voice and paced towards him, dipping a bow in Selina’s direction. He nodded, a look of concern on his weathered face.

  ‘Aye, sir. This one’s gone lame.’ He gestured at the nearest horse. ‘I thought she was favouring her back right hoof on the way here, and now it’s grown worse. She won’t be able to pull the carriage back to the Hall in this state.’ He patted the horse’s flank with rough affection. ‘I’m not sure what to make of it.’

  Edward frowned, and was about to speak when Selina stepped up to the horse and smoothed her hand along its gleaming back.

  ‘May I look?’

  Greene’s eyebrows raised in surprise. ‘If you’d like to, ma’am.’

  He lifted his hat and rubbed the back of his head. Edward saw how doubtfully he eyed Selina as she moved to stand behind the horse.

  ‘Be careful, ma’am—she might kick...’

  The coachman’s sentence died in his mouth as Selina flung her cloak out of the way and firmly seized the horse’s back leg, bringing it up to clamp it between her knees. Edward started in shock. What kind of woman did such a thing? And in public?

  He looked about him quickly. More than one passer-by was looking askance at the otherwise respectable young woman who now bent to inspect the hoof, her practised fingers running across the shoe as she frowned in expert concentration.