Found and Bound - A Victorian Romance Novella (The Victorian Arrangement Series Book 2)

by R. G. Winter

Victoria frowned. “You must be kinder to him.”

  Madelaine tapped a foot into the floor, “Was I not kind?”

  Victoria shook her head. “No, you were not. You contradicted him at every turn.”

  “I merely said how I feel.”

  “But that is not how he feels!” Victoria sighed and picked a bit of lint off Madelaine’s sleeve. “Can you not see how kind and gentle he is, and how easily upset he becomes when you contradict him?”

  “Oh, so now I’m a sharp-tongued shrew?” Her irritation was growing. Victoria was the younger sister, and she should be listening to advice, not giving it.

  Victoria threw her hands up. Despair was written all over her. “No! I am only saying that he is far gentler than you imagine and…would it have harmed you to speak to him more civilly? It is one thing to hold a different opinion of something than he holds, it is another to state it so fiercely. You must learn to speak softly. And eat less. He was literally horrified at your gulping down on the sandwiches.”

  “They were delicious. I adore egg and cress.”

  Victoria flashed back with, “And it showed too!”

  Madelaine stomped her foot. “Oh if only he would retract his proposal to me! Then he could find a nice biddable wife who would let him walk over her…”

  Victoria went scarlet. “Being kind to a man you are to marry is not the same as allowing him to walk over you!”

  “It feels like it is!”

  Victoria turned and walked away. Madelaine stared after her, remorse making her feel terrible. She should go after her and apologize but she had no real wish to.

  Instead she went back into the parlor, filched several more of the sandwiches and wrapped them in her handkerchief than took them upstairs in case her dinner was far too light.

  She had a feeling if her mother learned of her gobbling it would be. She also had no doubt Victoria would run to tell their mother about her behavior during the horrid little visit.

  She closed her door, hid the sandwiches and threw herself across the bed. Her eyes were dry but she was weeping frantically inside.

  She missed Jonathan, she missed the freedom of the clothing she’d worn while working at the inn, and she missed riding Persephone.

  She sat up. She could do nothing about the rest but she could most certainly do something about the latter of those things.

  She called for a maid to help her dress then ran downstairs. Ever since she had given her word to marry the duke she had been allowed slightly more freedom. She called for a groom, and her horse, knowing she would never be allowed to ride alone.

  She wasn’t. Not one but two grooms accompanied her as she headed for the park. Frustrated by that she kept Persephone to a nice trot until they reached the park. The crush usually seen in the afternoon was less than usual today due to the large gray clouds hovering over the edge of the sky, and the black-edged clouds blotting out the weak sunshine.

  She rode Persephone as fast as she dared. Several young men chased after her, their faces shining with approval as she spurred Persephone onward.

  Her mood lightened and she began to enjoy herself immensely.

  By the time Persephone was growing tired Madelaine was as well. She cooled the horse, and the passions of the young men riding alongside her, calling out their love and devotion, by riding close to several rather sedately moving carriages.

  A few dowagers and fresh young faces greeted her vision. She nodded and reined Persephone in to speak as she should.

  She had just made it past a carriage containing a ridiculously nosy old friend of her mother’s when she was halted by a soft voice coming from inside a carriage whose top was up and its curtains closed.

  “Madelaine! I thought I would have to go round and round this damn park all day, nay, all week!”

  Her heart lurched to a painful halt. She did not turn her head toward the carriage even though she wanted to, and desperately. “Jonathan!” Her voice was as soft as his own.

  His chuckle came from the carriage. “I’m masquerading as an invalid women. How am I doing?”

  Laughter bubble dup in her throat. She swallowed it back. She let her eyes slide toward the carriage just as he lifted the curtain just a bit, just enough for her to catch a glimpse of her dear face.

  She slowed Persephone even further. Her grooms were but a few paces behind but the carriage was slow as well. She lowered her voice further, hoping he could hear her and others could not. “I thought you had decided to desert me.”

  The curtain dropped. “Never. I am just all out of ideas other than stealing you away barbarian style.”

  Tears swum up in her eyes but they were happy tears. “You’re insane.”

  “I am. I need to see you. We must arrange it.”

  “How?”

  He cleared his throat. “I’ve an idea. I am invited to a dinner tomorrow evening, one you are also invited to. None but your family and fiancée know of our relationship so I imagine they won’t wonder why I excuse myself so hastily.”

  “I don’t understand.” She managed to turn her head to check on her grooms without being too obvious. “How can we see each other if you leave the dinner?”

  “Who says I am leaving? I hear the terrace is lovely there and, during a recital, which gets awfully crushed, the hostess often throws those doors to the terrace open.”

  Her heart thumped fiercely in her chest. “Victoria is playing at the recital. They will be so busy with watching her they shall not even notice me!”

  “Then that is where we shall speak again.”

  The carriage turned a corner and headed out of the park. She followed behind by a short distance, unwilling to lose him again. Eventually she had to turn onto the avenue her family’s home was on, and the carriage continued on without her tailing it.

  Jonathan!

  He still wanted and loved her!

  Maybe there was hope yet, if she could only get Reginald to break that engagement!

  Oh but how to do that? He seemed determined to go on with it, even though she had run away rather than marry him.

  The man was a glutton for punishment it seemed.

  Her eyes twinkled as she considered being so cruel to him that he would have no choice but to break the engagement.

  Oh but that would never do. She wanted to break the engagement, not hurt him deeply. That was so against her nature, to willingly hurt another, that she honestly had no knowledge of how to do so anyway.

  Tomorrow! She would see him tomorrow!

  CHAPTER NINE

  The morning started off with a bang and a clatter as Clare Devon first arrived then accidentally knocked over a giant and quite hideous bust that sat in the front hallway.

  The bust did not shatter, thankfully, but it definitely woke the house. Madelaine, coming down the stairs, had to fight back laughter as Clare grabbed the heavy bust, hoisted it back onto its pedestal and then dusted her hands—all before a single servant had time to come running.

  Madelaine said, “Clare! How wonderful to see you again!”

  Clare lifted her head. Her hat was quite outdated, her gown was as well but neither the color of those things, which was a sickly yellow, nor their unfashionable cut could detract from her beauty.

  She was a great beauty. Her skin was alabaster pale, and her hair a flaming mixture of deep red and gold. Not a single freckle marred her face, and her mouth was wide and generous and quite red, nearly as red as the rouged lips of so many a court-bound lady.

  “Madelaine!”

  They embraced at the foot of the stairs and Clare whispered, “Thank you so much, I mean it.”

  They broke the embrace just as Lady de Winter came down the stairs with a frown marring her clear forehead. “I thought I heard a fearsome racket.”

  Madelaine managed to keep a straight face. “A wagon passed just as the door opened and lost a wheel to boot. Terrible racket.”

  Lady de Winter flapped her hands and made a face. “It was likely that milk wagon. It’s fo
rever causing havoc out there. Hello, you must be Miss Devon.”

  Her eyes went up and down Clare’s body. She cleared her throat. “I was hoping…that is it seems that Madelaine has outgrown several of her gowns from last year. You are slightly shorter but just as slim. It would be a shame to merely toss them out so I was hoping you might be kind enough to let us take them up for you.”

  Relief hit Madelaine. It was no secret her brother was a hot commodity on the marriage market. Clare Devon was stunning but she needed a gown that brought that out. And she had, indeed, outgrown several of the gowns that had been made the year before after a sudden growth spurt.

  Not to mention as the fiancé of a duke she could hardly be seen in gowns already a year old.

  Still, it was not uncommon for an elder sister’s gown to be taken apart and remade for a younger sister, not even in the gentry. The cost of a Season was high, and many saved money in any way that they could so the offer was beyond generous, and she was grateful that her mother had made it.

  Clare smiled and Madelaine saw relief written large on her face. “That is very kind of you Lady de Winter. I shall accept gratefully. You have a lovely home, thank you for allowing me to visit in the midst of Season when you are already so taxed with activities and duties.”

  It was a pretty speech and Madelaine saw her mother was pleased b it.

  “Oh you are welcome.” She rested a finger on her chin as she gazed around the hallway. “I must say though, something seems amiss. Oh! The bust! It is slightly corked on its base! One of the servants must have moved it just slightly while they were dusting. Oh but here I am prattling on household issues. Madelaine, please show our guest to the room next to yours. Tell me Miss Devon, have you had breakfast?”

  Clare opened her mouth. Behind her back Madelaine shook her head vigorously. “No Lady de Winter, I fear not.”

  “Oh, then I shall have a tray brought up to you with the maid who will help you settle in.”

  “That would be lovely thank you,” Clare said.

  Madelaine waited until her mother had left the hallway and then she took Clare by the hand and led her up the stairs. “Thank you. I am to be wed soon and they are all but starving me to ensure I fit into my dress.”

  Clare gave her a wry glance. “I was told in no uncertain terms not to let my appetite seem too large. I do hope I shall not be reduced to shooting pigeons out my window and roasting them on the bedroom hearth.”

  Madelaine, amused by the image Clare conjured, said, “You may very well find yourself in such a circumstance.”

  Winston’s door blew open. He stood there, freshly shaven. So freshly shaven there was still a tiny plaster stuck to his lower jaw.

  He said, “I say Madelaine—who is this?” in a booming voice.

  Madelaine pushed Clare forward, “May I present Miss Clare Devon, who may very well be shooting pigeons off the neighboring roofs if we do not feed her well.”

  Winston’s mouth hung open. His eyes drank in Clare’s face and she stared at him, just as eagerly.

  Lady de Winter came down the hallway. Clare recovered quickly, curtseyed, and said, “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance sir.”

  He bowed in a courtly fashion, stepped back and closed his door but not until he gave Clare one last lingering look.

  Lady de Winter had an armful of gowns and she said, “I have found them and called for a seamstress to come in the next few hours. There’s a dinner party this evening so we must rush I fear.”

  “Yes Lady de Winter,” Clare said softly.

  The two young women went into the room given to Clare and Lady de Winter followed to lay the gowns on the bed then take her leave.

  As soon as she was gone and the door closed Clare sank onto the settee and whispered, “Oh heavens! He is even more handsome than he was riding across my father’s lands!”

  Madelaine whispered back, “Does nobody know you two have met then?”

  Clare shook her head. The sun, coming through the windows, sent sparks of gold lifting away from that magnificent hair of hers. “Oh no, if we told anyone I would have to explain why I was out hunting. I have been forbidden to do so, you see. It’s a manly sport after all. Nobody asks where the grouse and game come from, they all just pretend it dragged itself to our dining room table, but I am still not allowed to do so. It’s such utter hypocrisy!”

  “I understand.” She did.

  Clare gave her a gamine smile. “I know you do. You ran away rather than marry after all. Winston feels terribly guilty over that. He says he put the idea in your mind.”

  Madelaine patted her hair. “He did but I would have thought of it all on my own if he had not.” So you have not told anyone you care for him?”

  Clare collapsed in on herself. “Oh how can I? Nothing can come of it anyway. All my sisters must wed and my family cannot afford to marry them off, truly. Not to mention your parents are, at this very moment, seeking a far more advantageous match for him.”

  Madelaine’s sympathy cranked up a few more notches. “I know. It’s awful, this hunting down of the best circumstances for the parents. I wonder when people will consider that the circumstances are not always best for us?”

  Clare took her hand and squeezed. “A young woman I know was made to wed a much older man. He’s cruel and hardly ever speaks to her. She’s not allowed much of an allowance nor to have many new gowns or even pretty things.

  “When she asks for something he just reminds her of the large sum of money he had to give to her parents as part of their marriage contract and tells her that so far she has not proven to be worth much of it. He wants an heir, and yet he visits her bedchamber as seldom as possible.”

  Madelaine sympathized. “Poor girl! The duke is kind, at least. He’s just boring. Bland and…forgettable. Ever so forgettable.”

  “I doubt there is anything worse than that.” Clare made a face. “I don’t mind a man that drives me to distraction. I mind, greatly, a man that bores me to tears.”

  “Then you had better know right now my fiancé is going to bore you stiff.” Madelaine covered her mouth with her hand a cast a guilty look around the room. “I should not speak so but…but can you keep a secret?”

  ‘You are keeping mine.”

  They were interrupted by the arrival of the tray and Clare’s luggage. They quickly changed the subject and talked about the dinner party that evening, and a few other things like gowns and shoes until the maid left again.

  Clare looked at the tray then said, “Oh, look, Toast and jam.”

  “Are you hungry?”

  Clare grinned then said, “No, I’m but teasing you. I’d love some tea though. There’s two cups, you eat and I’ll pour.”

  Madelaine, who had been hungry since the night before, liberally smeared jam on the toast and took a large bite. She’d had a dinner consisting of potatoes steeped in vinegar and a small piece of chicken served to her in her room so she would not be tempted by the dinner served to the rest of the family and the rest of the tiny sandwich wedges and her naturally healthy body demanded food.

  “There’s bacon,” Clare added as she lifted a lid.

  ‘Madelaine snatched it off the plate and gulped it down. “Never get wed if you are going to be wearing your mother’s gown and your mother was famously slender in her day.”

  Clare lifted an eyebrow and sipped her tea. “Sounds like good advice.”

  Madelaine chewed, swallowed and sipped tea. “I was going to tell you a secret.”

  “Yes, you were.”

  Madelaine looked toward the door then put her mouth to Clare’s ear and whispered about the plan to see Jonathan later.

  Clare didn’t look shocked as Madelaine had feared she might. She looked thrilled. “How romantic! Surely there is a way for the two of you to be together!”

  Madelaine sipped at the tea then sighed. “No. He won’t break the engagement. I daresay he is just going forward with it now fore pure spite. Oh, I wish it was spite at least that w
ould make him interesting! Unfortunately he is just afraid to cross our parents.”

  “I suppose we are all afraid to cross our parents.”

  “True.”

  Clare set her cup aside. “I do so wish things were different Madelaine. I know I may be reduced, this week, to watching your brother charm legions of hopeful and well-placed young women. I must remember not to tear their hair out. Or push them into the nearest punch bowl.”

  Madelaine bit her bottom lip. “Was it cruel, bringing you here?”

  “No, it’s wonderful. If I cannot wed him at least I may enjoy some measure of his time. Much as you must try to see your dashing gentleman before you are consigned to your own gloomy fate.”

  Madelaine clapped her hands. “We are a pair of conspirators, are we not?”

  Clare leaned forward, her lovely eyes aglow. “Look out London!”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Evening had fallen and Madelaine was hideously nervous. She was shaken by the daring of what she was going to do that evening but she was determined to do it.

  She had to do it.

  She had to see Jonathan, at least once more.

  Her heart cried out for him and her whole body did as well. He was everything she wanted, and needed, and why she was stuck marrying a man she did not love or want while there was one that she did—and who loved and wanted her too—was an utterly confounding thing.

  True the arrangements were all made and, as Victoria had said, those arrangements were complex and complicated and breaking contracts could sour two families into bitter rivals, something nobody wanted to happen if they could help it.

  Her family was wealthier than many but their title was not as robust as it could have been. Her marriage would cement them forever into the fabric of high society, and she knew that that and nothing more was what was the highest on her parent’s minds.

  There was no need for her father to pay the duke out of debt for that marriage, and the bestowing of a title. Nor was there any need for the duke to offer money to her father for her hand, as often happened when a young woman had a high title and empty pockets.