A Marriage 0f Convenience_Historical Regency Romance

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A Marriage 0f Convenience_Historical Regency Romance Page 22

by Janet Woods


  ‘Yes, Reverend,’ they lied together, for it had been entirely spur of the moment.

  ‘We’d better get on with it then.’

  Grace was already acquainted with the reverend and Mrs Hallam since one of her duties had been to accompany Lady Florence to church on Sundays. The couple had been regular visitors to Oakford House when Lady Florence had been alive, and Grace had been kept busy running ran back and forth, sometimes being required to play the piano to entertain them during tea. She enjoyed it, for her own piano had been sold to pay her father’s debts.

  Often, they’d talked about her, as if she weren’t there and it seemed her father’s demise had brought out the worse of him in the minds of acquaintances, rather than the best.

  ‘They say bad blood will out and it has. Dear Lady Florence, you are so good to her. A girl without means or relatives can so easily be corrupted and will attract the lowliest of men. We will pray for her soul.’

  Grace decided her soul could fend for itself.

  Now the same woman offered Grace a simpering smile, for she was about to rise up the social ladder. ‘Congratulations, my dear Miss Ellis … such a wealthy suitor and a match made in heaven when one considers your present circumstances, something a girl in your position wouldn’t have expected.’

  ‘I don’t see why not, Mrs Hallam. Being poor is a matter of circumstance. It doesn’t change the way you are … other people do.’

  Taken aback the woman mumbled, ‘It would be more ideal if your mama were here to advise you of the duties involved with marriage and what to expect on your wedding night. She would be so proud of you.’

  Not last night, she hoped, since her groom had already demonstrated the duty involved, and she was happily looking forward to more of the same instruction.

  ‘I’d be quite happy to act in that role of advisor,’ Mrs Hallam said.

  The woman meant it sincerely, and she looked disappointed when Grace said, for she’d suddenly remembered the Karma Sutra, ‘Thank you, Mrs Hallam, but I’m well informed. Lady Florence gave me a book that explained the umm … the duties of marriage. As well, my father was a doctor.’

  Dominic’s lips twitched.

  It wasn’t long before they were standing in front of the reverend. The wedding guests were seated in the front pew. Dominic’s brother, Lord LéSayres, his estate manager, and Sam Rider and another estate employee.

  Standing next to the reverend’s wife Sam looked solemn. He’d been trying out his line practising it over and over again, so he wouldn’t forget it. Now the time was close he was nervous.

  The reverend’s wife had a severe eye on him and affected a superior manner for the occasion, pulling it on like a Sunday hat. Mrs Hallam also had a romantic streak, Dominic mused, for she’d kindly offered them breakfast to celebrate the union – the cooking of which had been handed over to the maid, for she determined not to miss one moment of this elopement – or the glory of having her signature rub shoulders in the parish register with that of the earl.

  Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of this congregation, to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony …

  Dominic gently squeezed her hand and she gazed up at him. He was so calm, whilst she trembled like the last leaf on a winter bough, defying the breeze that would pluck it.

  There was something not quite right about this wedding, she thought. It was too fast. But then, she had never attended a wedding before.

  Wilt thou have this woman to thy wedded wife, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy state of matrimony? Will thou love her, comfort her, honour and keep her in sickness and in health and, forsaking all others, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live.

  ‘I will,’ Dominic said.

  ‘Wilt thee have this man …’

  ‘I will.’ And the smile Grace sent her beloved was returned.

  ‘Who giveth this woman to be married to this man?’

  ‘I will … Mr Sam Rider, groom in Earl LéSayres’ establishment.’

  The reverend gazed over his glasses at the lad standing proudly with the bride and groom, then at Alex. ‘Isn’t he rather young for such a responsibility, my Lord?’

  ‘All he needs do is place Miss Ellis’s hand in yours and then—’

  ‘Yes, my Lord, I’m aware of how to conduct a wedding ceremony.’ The reverend’s gaze settled on Dominic.

  Dominic said, ‘Then, please get on with it, Reverend Hallam. We haven’t got all day.’

  The reverend shrugged. ‘Very well, Mr LéSayres, on your own head be it.’

  ‘Then shall they give their troth to each other in this manner—’

  Sam interjected, ‘What’s a troth?’

  The reverend sighed. ‘The use of the word troth, means promise.’

  ‘Why don’t you say promise, so ordinary folks knows what you’re talking about? Ouch!’

  The earl had taken Sam by the ear and now manhandled him into the nearest pew, where the reverend’s wife was seated. Her gimlet eyes speared him.

  ‘Mind your manners, Sam,’ the earl said.

  ‘But Miss Ellis said if I came across words I didn’t know, then I should ask what they meant.’

  Mrs Hallam raised her lorgnette to examine Sam before condescending an opinion. ‘The poor ignorant child, but then, one cannot expect anything more from a lad with gypsy blood in him. Has he been christened? I can see the devil’s mark at work on his forehead.’

  Sam scrubbed at his forehead, then sounding injured he answered back, ‘I can read and write. Miss Ellis taught me. And Mr LéSayres told me I rode his horse like a bat in a storm. He didn’t say I belonged to no devil though. As for that mark on my forehead it were a gnat bite.’

  The woman gave a shocked gasp. ‘I will ask the reverend to take a strap to you if you don’t behave yourself.’

  The reverend sighed. ‘And he will refuse, on the grounds that a wedding, in whatever form, is a happy occasion. We are all God’s creatures, Mrs Hallam. Do try to be charitable.’

  ‘But the boy is not christened.’

  Alex patted her on the arm. ‘Come, come, Mrs Hallam. Let’s get the wedding out of the way, and then your husband can dunk the lad’s head in some holy water. You can act as his godmother should you wish.’

  Mrs Hallam nodded.

  ‘So will I,’ the estate manager said.

  Mrs Hallam’s nose began to twitch and she cast it about in the air like a dog trying to fix on a scent. Lifting a handkerchief to her nose, she uttered majestically, ‘Whatever is that disgusting odour?’

  Sam obliged her with an honest answer. ‘It’s horseshit, madam.’

  There was a moment when everything went quiet, and then laughter tore from Grace. The tension eased and everyone joined in except Mrs Hallam, who swatted the lad several times with her parasol and had him jumping into the aisle to escape her.

  Breathing heavily the woman dragged him back by his collar and said sternly, ‘If you say another word I’ll ask God to cast you from him, you bad boy.’

  Sam’s eyes displayed the fright he felt at the thought.

  Grace turned and engaged Dominic’s eyes, brimming with laughter. She told him, ‘Sam is overexcited, allow me to settle him down before we continue.’

  ‘I love you,’ he whispered, planting a kiss on the lobe of her ear. ‘Remind me to give the lad a bonus.’

  She beckoned to the boy, telling him quietly, ‘Sam. I’m trying to be married to Mr LéSayres and it’s a solemn occasion. Can we get through it without any more interruption from you?’

  ‘Will God cast me out?’

  ‘No … and he’ll be looking in the other direction at the moment. If you decide to be christened you will receive a certificate with your name written on it.’

  Sam smiled.

  ‘I expect the reverend might be more inclined to answer your questions then.’

  ‘And he might not,’ the reverend said, with a remarkable
keenness of hearing, and he chuckled. ‘This is the most memorable wedding I’ve ever officiated over. Now I have a christening to add to the list. Shall we get it over with so we can have some breakfast.’

  They could smell it as it wafted into the church from the nearby rectory – tantalizing little snatches of cooking on the breeze – sausages made from the flesh of some unfortunate pig, eggs, ham from the same pig, but the flesh sultry with apple-wood smoke. And there would be slices of black pudding spiced with herbs fresh from the garden, and mushrooms that grew wild amongst the graves in the cemetery and were plucked from the soil at the rising of the dew.

  Dominic’s mouth watered and he eyed the reverend, wishing he’d hurry up and get it over with. Obviously the man liked the sound of his own voice with all its cadences. His wife had full lips, slightly pursed, and a splendid span of breast and hips. He imagined that she catered for her husband’s appetites admirably.

  He had no doubt that Gracie would cater to his needs, as would he to hers and he wondered what she was thinking as they gazed with a solemn intensity into each other’s eyes and vowed to love, honour and obey each other always. He offered his bride a smile and she blushed, though her bottom lip trembled with the emotion of the moment, and there were tears in the corners of her eyes. He remembered her telling him that when she was a child she’d wondered what soul was. Now he felt it, pulsating between them like a pure white light – a faint essence drawing them together as one in this country church with its smell of mice and the dust of innumerable weddings floating in the air. Sound receded and he felt at one with all that had passed and all that was yet to come.

  He gazed up at the painted glass windows. They were probably a donation from some knight, home from his fruitless search for the legendary Holy Grail and paying homage to his lord by buying himself a place in heaven. The colours picked up the winter light as they melted into the frosted glass.

  He had an urge to hug Grace close. She deserved a better wedding than this clandestine affair. She deserved flowers in her hair, a ball to introduce her to the society she would live in, and a feast to celebrate his good luck in finding her.

  His stomach rumbled and she stifled a giggle.

  Dominic took the LéSayres signature ring from his little finger and slid it onto the third finger on her left hand. It would do until he had one made for her – a sign of his possession of her this day.

  He smiled, imagining her proclaiming, ‘Hah!’ to such a notion. Yet, despite her air of bravado she was a tender little creature.

  Finally they heard the words.

  ‘I now pronounce you husband and wife together.’

  Dominic kissed her, a chaste flutter of butterfly wings on her mouth before he raised her hand to cover his heart. He would plunder her later, when time permitted. ‘Your eyes are full of dreams, Mrs LéSayres, and our wedding breakfast is waiting.’

  She slid her arm through his and their fingers intertwined. ‘I will wear your name with much pride, my Dominic, and when we have children I will wish for a son who resembles his father.’

  ‘And with my pleasure.’ Dominic hadn’t thought that far ahead, but it provided him with an idea, a line to end his poem with – a new star shooting across heaven.

  Mrs Hallam took Sam by the ear. ‘And now for the christening.’

  ‘Must I?’ Sam wailed, appealing to Grace. ‘The breakfast will get cold.’

  Mrs Hallam smiled. ‘There will be no breakfast for you if you don’t behave, boy. You came into this church a sinner and you will leave it as a Christian. Is that understood?’

  And as if recognizing the woman was a force too big to be reckoned with, Sam seemed to deflate. ‘Yes, Mrs Hallam.’

  It didn’t take long to turn Sam into a Christian, though he shivered a bit as the cold water trickled through his hair and under his collar.

  The reverend said to Dominic as they were about to leave the vicarage, ‘Miss Ellis is a pleasant young woman and Lady Florence thought highly of her.’

  ‘Mrs LéSayres,’ Dominic reminded the reverend when Gracie joined them.

  ‘Ah yes … my pardon.’ The reverend kissed Grace’s hand. ‘Be good to one another. I wish you much happiness in your journey through life. Mrs Hallam and I will miss you at the Sunday services.’

  When Dominic pressed a gentle kiss against her mouth and the couple smiled at each other the reverend was left with no doubt.

  ‘As for you, young man …’ A black leather bible decorated with gold lettering was placed in Sam’s hands, along with a highly decorated certificate. ‘I hope you will read a little of this every day and you will gain comfort and wisdom from its pages when needed. I’ve recorded your name, the date, and the occasion of the presentation in the flyleaf. Thus you will always stand as the founder member of any family who may follow you.’

  It was another hour before they returned to Oakford House, their appetites satisfied, at least, for the present. There was still no sign of James Archibald, the brigadier, or of any soldiers.

  Tiredness was fast overtaking Grace now the excitement of her flight and her subsequent marriage was wearing off. The wedding hadn’t been very romantic and she spared a moment of regret that they hadn’t waited … but she couldn’t marry the brigadier now, even if she wanted to. She went upstairs to rest for a while, and was joined by the tabby cat. The creature cosied up to the space behind her knees and purred noisily. She hoped he didn’t have any fleas.

  Downstairs, Dominic joined Alex and the pair took a walk around the garden. There were still patches of frost where the midday sun hadn’t reached, and there was something desolate about it.

  Dominic said, ‘There are too many people here. Many of them earn a living that isn’t exactly honest and they can smell trouble. I have other matters to deal with and if the client doesn’t put in an appearance by noon tomorrow I’m going to extract my fee, and declare the brigadier in absentia. The whole mess will then be in the hands of a magistrate. In the meantime I’m going to send everyone home, since the countryside is awash with rumour and that might be keeping the brigadier at a distance.’

  Alex smiled. ‘You’re not sending me anywhere, Dom. Whether you want me or not I’m staying until those papers are signed, if only to watch your back. Don’t worry, I’ll stay out of your way.’

  ‘That’s what I hoped you’d say.’

  ‘If I may also say, Dom, you’re looking incredibly smug. Are you going to send your little lady back to King’s Acres?’

  ‘Yes, she’s not over that beating she took yet, and is looking fatigued. I’ll send for the hack we used before, as far as Poole. Once there, your steward can hire a carriage and escort them to King’s Acres.’

  ‘Do you think Grace will stay this time? I fully expect Vivienne to fly into the boughs when she sets eyes on her again.’

  Dominic chuckled. ‘If Vivienne does she has just cause, and Gracie deserves it.’ But Dominic wondered … Gracie would be expecting a reaction from Vivienne, and would respond in a manner to create as little discord as possible in the household. She was quick-minded and adroit with her answers to questions.

  He made his arrangements and then went upstairs to gaze down at Gracie’s sleeping form. A noise came from a small moving mound under the quilt. A rat! Cautiously, he pushed the quilt aside so he could grab it.

  It was no rat, it was the cat – it had sought her out. He gazed down at it and then smiled, whispering, ‘I’ll be damned.’

  She woke, observing him through sleepy eyes, and then smiled. ‘Dominic.’ Spoken like that, his name was so full of husky promise that it sent tremors skittering through him.

  ‘The carriage has arrived to take you and Sam to Poole. From there you can hire a carriage. My brother’s estate manager will escort you and see to the details. You needn’t stir, I can carry you downstairs.’

  Her eyes cleared and her gaze was drawn to the squeaking noise coming from the bedcover and she exclaimed, ‘Look Dominic, there are two dear little kitt
ens!’

  ‘Yes … I’ve seen them. Did you hear me say you’re leaving?’

  ‘Yes,’ and she sucked in a breath, took a stronger stand. ‘I’m not leaving without taking my cats. They will starve to death.’

  ‘Are we going to argue about this?’

  ‘Of course we’re not. There’s a woven basket in Lady Florence’s room that the cats can travel in … and that old shawl on the chair to keep them warm. It’s cold outside.’

  ‘Look at me, Gracie.’

  Her eyes were misty with unshed tears and he brushed the hair back from her forehead. ‘I don’t want to leave you, my love, but you’re proving to be a distraction and a bigger responsibility than I need at the moment. You must promise to do as I tell you.’

  Her eyes cleared. ‘We’ve hardly said our vows and already you’re issuing orders, however, on this occasion I will promise to do as you ask.’ Her arms slid round him in a fierce hug. ‘You don’t really mind about the cats, do you?’

  One of the kittens rolled onto its back and squeaked with alarm when it couldn’t roll back. It had a fat stomach, white socks and sharp little teeth.

  Dominic turned it over again and guided it to its mother’s teat, sighing in resignation. He had to admit, they were pretty little scraps of fur, but they would grow into animals that killed for sport as well as food, and reproduced themselves often, and with regularity. ‘I’ll go and fetch the basket and shawl.’

  Grace gave the cat family a thoughtful look. ‘I could almost swear the cat I saw last time was a male.’

  Dominic could swear to that too, but he wasn’t going to. It had been a battle-scarred, smelly old tom and he wasn’t about to encourage that notion. A cat was a cat and this tabby little lady and her small family had touched his heart with their beguiling little mews – well almost. His mind scrambled for a plausible reason to help her accept a cat she’d never seen before. ‘As I recall you were running a fever at the time.’

  ‘That must account for it.’

  As he straightened up to leave, she said, ‘You wouldn’t lie to me would you, Dom?’

 

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