The Reluctant Marchioness

by Anne Ashley

  ‘I decided, after our—er—slight disagreement the other week, that I would never again interfere in your handling of our son.’

  It was not the admission itself which brought a tender smile to his lips, but the fact that for the first time ever she had acknowledged that Charles belonged to them both.

  ‘Though I must say that I think you were extremely foolish to give way to him over this. Charles has very winning ways, I’m afraid, and can persuade people to do precisely what they have no real desire to do.’ She darted a slightly disapproving glance at the portly figure standing beside her husband. ‘Besides which, there are those who chose to lay bets with certain persons on the outcome of this race, giving me little choice but to take the challenge seriously. Which I sincerely trust that you will also do, Julian.’

  This time her glance was directed at her mount who was now being saddled. ‘I just hope Oriel behaves himself. I’m afraid he can be the most appalling show-off on occasions. Quite headstrong! But I’ll do my poor best to prevent him from getting too far ahead of you, Julian. I wouldn’t wish for it to be a totally one-sided contest.’

  Theodore could not prevent a chuckle as his friend’s look of concern was replaced by one of astonished outrage. ‘You appear to think that the race is a foregone conclusion, Jenny. Let me remind you that Wrox, here, is no mean rider.’

  ‘I sincerely trust you’re right, Theo, otherwise Charles will be most disappointed. He’s hoping to see a fine race.’ She had some difficulty in suppressing a smile at the indignant glance his lordship bent in her direction, and could not resist the temptation to goad him a little more. ‘You must remember, Julian, that I have yet to see you ride at a neck-to-nothing pace. If, however, you have any desire to win, you are going to need to do just that.

  ‘By the by,’ she went on without giving him the opportunity to respond to her taunting, ‘I observed on the diagram of the route you decided upon that you intend to skirt the home wood. I see no reason to do so. When I rode out in that direction last week, I noticed the main track through the wood is perfectly suitable. Cross-country races are no fun at all if riders do not need to negotiate obstacles, and I do not consider the banks of the stream cutting across that particular path would pose any real degree of difficulty.’

  ‘Perhaps not, but had you forgotten the five-bar gates at either end of that particular track? Or do you intend to waste time by stopping to open and close them?’

  The sarcasm was too blatant to be ignored, and Jennifer raised her finely arched brows in exaggerated surprise. ‘Well, you can do so if you consider them a problem, but I fully intend to jump them both, otherwise Charles will be most dreadfully disappointed. He’s dragged poor Mr Granger up to the home wood already to watch that part of the race.’

  Deciding not to delay the start further, Jennifer took a hold of Oriel’s reins, and got into the saddle, revealing as she did so that her skirt had been cunningly fashioned and divided in the middle so that it resembled nothing so much as a pair of rather baggy trousers as she sat astride her mount.

  Knowing that his friend was a stickler for the proprieties, Theodore cast his lordship a fleeting glance, but discovered much to his surprise that, apart from slightly raised dark brows, there was no visible evidence that the Marquis disapproved of his wife’s apparel or, indeed, her mode of riding.

  ‘Shall we—er—get this contest underway?’ Theodore suggested. ‘You haven’t forgotten, Julian, that you promised to accompany me out later to view Colonel Halstead’s place?’

  Although Julian would have dearly liked to have his friend residing close by, looking for a suitable country residence for Theodore to purchase was the last thing on his mind at the moment.

  Mounting his grey, he accompanied Jennifer out of the yard, avidly watching Oriel’s playful antics as they made their way to the starting point, which had been decided would be on the driveway at the front of the house. The powerful black was undeniably restless this morning, eager for a good gallop, and although Jennifer appeared to handle him easily enough, whether she would be able to do so at full gallop was a different matter entirely. Oriel, Julian very much feared, could be temperamental. He was also spirited and, as any seasoned rider knew, spirited horses were difficult to control on occasions.

  ‘It would appear, Julian, that a great many of the servants have found themselves tasks at the front of the house,’ Jennifer remarked wryly, and his lordship, momentarily abandoning his concerned thoughts, glanced up at the house to see peering faces at several of the windows. ‘I wonder which of us they expect to see take a tumble?’

  She could not fail to notice that high, intelligent brow darken, and began to experience pangs of conscience. She ought, she knew, to have proved to him that she was now a highly competent horsewoman, instead of weakening to that inner feminine demon which had prompted her to amaze him with her skills.

  ‘I’ve always considered it faintly vulgar, Julian, to blow one’s own trumpet, and am reliably informed that self-praise is little recommendation. None the less, I have been lucky enough to receive instruction during these past years from a true master. Believe me, James O’Connell would never have given Oriel to me if he had considered that I wasn’t capable of handling him. I do not believe that I am being over-confident when I tell you that no one can handle this boy of mine nearly so well as I can. So, if you’re ready…?’

  She didn’t wait for any response, but turned to Theodore, who stood, handkerchief raised, and gave the faintest of nods. The square of fine lawn floated to the ground, and the race was underway.

  As soon as they had ridden up the sweep of the driveway, and were heading over the wide stretch of rising pasture land which led to the home wood, Julian was convinced of two things: Jennifer was possibly the finest horsewoman he’d ever seen in his life, better than most men, and certainly his equal in the saddle; and that his chances of winning the contest were zero, a fact which surprisingly enough didn’t trouble him in the least, even though he was a man who didn’t like to lose.

  Lost in admiration, he was happy to watch Oriel gradually increasing the slight lead he had held from the start, and was convinced that Jennifer was not allowing the powerful black to have his head quite yet. They were as one, both horse and rider in perfect accord. The hunter had indeed been well named, for he seemed to fly across the ground like some unearthly creature. Or perhaps, Julian mused, admiring the superb way Jennifer checked her mount’s stride before effortlessly clearing with inches to spare the five-bar gate leading to the wood, Oriel felt as if he were carrying a mere fairy on his back, so light was the weight, so slight the control of those slender, expert hands.

  He began to fall further and further behind as they rode along the woodland path. He vaguely heard the cheers from his son, urging him on, but he knew the race was lost. As his excellent mount easily cleared the second gate, he was content to watch the peerless display of equestrian skill as Jennifer, at last giving her superb mount his head, galloped across the beautiful park back towards the house.

  By the time Julian arrived back at the stable-yard, Jennifer had already dismounted and was receiving heartfelt congratulations from both Theodore and Miss Carstairs, together with those of several of the stable-lads who had witnessed the fine ride.

  Julian found it impossible not to smile at the cheeky wink he received from Patrick as the groom led the superb black hunter back into the stable. Patrick had mentioned on more than one occasion just what a fine horsewoman Jennifer was. Charles too had not infrequently praised his mother’s equestrian skills, and Jennifer herself had admitted to being no mean rider. And Jennifer did not lie; a fact that he had accepted for some little time.

  ‘Ah, Wroxam!’ Theodore, noticing him at last, voiced his commiseration. ‘But you were up against superb competition, what?’

  ‘Indeed I was.’ Dismounting, he handed his grey over to one of the stable-lads before turning to the victor, his eyes betraying the unalloyed admiration he was experiencing.
‘I was comprehensively beaten, madam. I congratulate you.’

  Once again Jennifer felt moved by the sincerity she clearly detected in his voice. ‘The outcome might have been different had you taken the challenge seriously, Julian, and had not allowed me to take the lead at the start.’ She turned in time to see his favourite mount being led into the stable. ‘That grey of yours is no slug. I do not believe there is much to choose between him and Oriel, and he was handicapped by extra weight.’

  ‘Perhaps next time we might exchange mounts?’ he suggested, swiftly warming to the notion of a rematch, but Jennifer, surprisingly, wasn’t so enthusiastic.

  ‘Much will depend on Oriel, I’m afraid. He can be a contrary demon on occasions, and is quite particular whom he allows on his back. You’ll need to win his approval first, then we’ll see.’ She turned towards the house. ‘In the meantime, I must change my attire.’

  ‘Yes, and so must I. I’ll meet you back here in fifteen minutes, Theo,’ his lordship assured him, leaving Serena with just Mr Dent to bear her company.

  Not that she objected to this in the least. He might not be every female’s idea of the perfect male companion, but he was swiftly becoming hers. Although he was large, slightly on the portly side and not remotely handsome, he was every inch the gentleman, both affable and charming. He was also a most entertaining conversationalist, whose occasionally vague, rather childlike gaze concealed a keen mind and razor-sharp intelligence.

  Since his arrival at Wroxam Park she had grown very partial to this large man’s company, and experienced no reticence now in remarking, as she watched her host and hostess disappear into the house, ‘What an ideal couple those two make. At least, they would be remarkably compatible if ever they manage to put past events behind them.’

  She glanced up at him and knew by his faintly wary expression precisely what was passing through his mind. ‘It is all right, Mr Dent,’ she assured him. ‘I know all. Jennifer confided in me shortly after I arrived here. I know, also, that you are one of the few in his lordship’s confidence. What do you make of it all?’

  They had begun to walk towards the gateway leading to the shrubbery. It was unlikely that any one of the stable-lads could manage to overhear. None the less, Theodore waited until they’d passed through the gateway before he said, ‘Yes, it was all very sad.’

  ‘And very perplexing too, do you not think?’ Again she shook her head. ‘I cannot imagine dear Jenny ever doing such a thing.’

  Massive shoulders rose and fell. ‘She was very young. And it must be said that Julian has been known to be selfish, inconsiderate on occasions. At least he used to be. He wasn’t perhaps as sympathetic towards his young bride as he might have been. So I suppose it is quite understandable, when you come to think about it, why Jenny sought companionship elsewhere.’

  ‘Companionship, yes,’ Serena readily agreed. ‘But that, I suspect, was all she sought. She’s admitted that she was very much in love with his lordship when they married.’ Serena raised both hands in a helpless gesture, at a loss to understand. ‘And why is it that she can remember so little about what took place between her and Mr Wilburn that afternoon?’

  Theodore drew his sandy brows together as memory stirred. ‘Yes, Julian, I recall, mentioned something about that… Yes, it is most odd.’ He shrugged again. ‘I suppose it is quite possible, though, Miss Carstairs, that the incident is something Jennifer might have preferred to forget.’

  ‘Might have lied in an attempt to save her marriage, you mean,’ she responded, putting his thoughts a little more bluntly than he might have wished. She nodded. ‘Yes. Yes, I can understand why you might think that. It is the most obvious explanation—lie in order to save face. But that doesn’t answer the question of why now she still claims not to remember. When she returned to England earlier in the year, it was for the sole purpose of requesting his lordship to take steps to terminate their union. There was no reason for her to continue to try to excuse past behaviour… And I, for one, do not believe that she ever did lie.’

  Theodore digested this for a moment. ‘You may be right, but I think it would be futile trying to speculate on what happened. Besides which, I do not believe that the events of that day are important to that extent any longer.’

  ‘Not to his lordship, no,’ Serena agreed, smiling faintly. ‘Jennifer, on the other hand, is a different matter entirely.’ Her smile widened as she glanced up at the kindly, rounded face. ‘But you’re quite right—it is futile to speculate. And I must not keep you. No doubt his lordship has returned to the stable-yard by now.’

  Reluctantly, it seemed to her, he bade a hurried farewell, and for a moment she followed his progress along the path leading back to the stables, then she turned and walked in the opposite direction. Soon she found herself in the formal gardens at the back of the house and, enjoying the pleasant morning sunshine, continued along the path, arriving at the front of the magnificent Restoration mansion in time to see an all-too-familiar carriage pull up outside the front entrance. Her heart sank.

  Chapter Eleven

  Jennifer was made aware of the unexpected arrival by Slocombe, who came up to her apartments to inform her that Miss Carstairs was entertaining her mother in the front parlour, and that he had taken it upon himself to furnish the visitor with refreshments. For a moment Jennifer toyed with the idea of hurrying downstairs in order to offer her friend moral support, but then decided against it, and instead seated herself at the dressing table, informing Rose that she might take all the time she required to dress her mistress’s hair.

  The purpose behind the visit was obvious: Lady Carstairs had undoubtedly made the journey to Somerset in order to persuade her daughter to return home. But would Serena wish to go? That was the all important question. If she did not, then there was absolutely no reason why she should do so. She could be in no doubt that she was welcome to remain at Wroxam Park for as long as she wished. Julian had raised not the least objection to her remaining under his roof. In fact, he had made her most welcome from the start, betraying a surprising bent for her company, so she could be under no illusion whatsoever that her presence in the house was anything but welcome. Furthermore, since Mr Dent’s arrival, Serena had not once broached the subject of moving on to Bath to take up residence with her godmother. Which, of course, had been her original intention.

  Jennifer smiled to herself as the last curl was neatly pinned into position, and she nodded dismissal to the young maid. Julian was by no means the only one to betray a fondness for the sensible Miss Carstairs’s company. It had been a delight to witness the friendship developing between Theodore and Serena during these past days. They had gone along famously from the start. Which was most surprising, really, now that she came to consider the matter, because they were both essentially very reserved people who were not given to indulging in idle chatter. Yet, she had come upon them on several occasions, sitting together, discussing some topic or other, both seemingly remarkably content in each other’s company.

  It was too early to tell at this stage whether a deeper relationship might develop between them, and she certainly had no intention of interfering in such a personal matter. None the less, Jennifer couldn’t help feeling quite optimistic. After all, Theodore had suddenly developed a keen interest in finding himself a suitable country residence, and had dragged Julian off to visit the Grange, the fine country house which Colonel Halstead had decided to sell.

  The clock in the bedchamber chiming the hour interrupted her pleasant musings. She judged that Serena had been alone with her mother in the parlour for half an hour, and felt that she couldn’t possibly ignore the unexpected visitor’s presence in the house any longer. Hopefully, Lady Carstairs had finally come to her senses, and had decided to abandon her foolish attempt to coerce poor Serena into marriage with a man that she found abhorrent. If this was indeed the case, then Serena had nothing to fear, and perhaps might now wish to return to the family home.

  A sigh escaped her as Jennifer mov
ed across to the wardrobe to collect one of her lightweight silk shawls. She would miss her friend’s company very much. Serena’s presence in the house during these past two weeks or so had made her own position far more tolerable, almost pleasurable. She could, of course, invite Serena to return a little later in the year.

  The idea had been such a natural one that it was a moment or two before she realised in which direction her thoughts were leading. What made her suppose that she would still be residing at Wroxam Park later in the year? Her present position was tenuous to say the least. Even supposing Julian was content with his present domestic situation, there was no guarantee that he would continue to be so. More importantly, was she, without being aware of it, becoming more reconciled to the idea of remaining under this roof, foolishly looking upon Wroxam Park as her home?

  Before she could decide upon an answer, her reflections were interrupted by a gentle tapping on the bedchamber door. A moment later Serena herself entered, appearing remarkably cheerful on the surface. Beneath the bright smile, however, Jennifer thought she could detect just the faintest hint of tension, and began to suspect that the reunion between mother and daughter had not been wholly joyous.