To Catch A Spinster (The Reluctant Bride Collection)

by Megan Bryce

  “I’m sorry, is something wrong with that scenario? It seems quite pleasant to me.”

  “Thankfully, I know better. That is boring, Livvy. Yes, yes, you would have your studies, but no family. No interruptions, no surprises. Having a plan is all well and good, but distractions are sometimes better.”

  “I find this hard to believe coming from someone who has known who she would marry since she was five years old.”

  “That wasn’t a plan, Livvy, that just was. I can’t help it if I found my mate so young.”

  “So, you want me to have distractions. That’s why you wouldn’t tell me about your wedding night.” Olivia narrowed her eyes. “It was your wedding night, wasn’t it?”

  “Of course it was my wedding night, as we were married that day. But was that the first time we were intimate? That was the night before we became engaged. Rufus was so distraught about the whole thing he ran to Father the next day.”

  “I can’t believe you never told me!”

  “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you getting any ideas. That was clearly short-sighted of me; you don’t need my help in thinking up crazy ideas.”

  “And I can’t believe your toady husband was so self-righteously smug!”

  “Olivia, you have a strange concept of the world. Rufus, although of course he loved me, had ruined me, therefore he had to marry me. Mr. Jenkins has ruined you, therefore he has to marry you.”

  “Our situations are vastly different, Mary. You were but eighteen and I am twenty-seven. If you and Rufus and Nathaniel will simply be quiet about it, no one need know that I am ruined. It’s not as if I was marriageable material before, anyway.”

  Mary fingered the paint pots. “Do you not like Mr. Jenkins?”

  “Well, of course I like him. I would not have done such a thing if I didn’t.”

  Mary eyed her. “Sometimes I think it doesn’t matter if you like the idea or not, as long as you find a solution to your problem.”

  Olivia glared at her. “That is a terrible thing to say. I am not amoral.”

  “I believe the vicar would argue that.”

  “I believe the vicar would argue that you are amoral. Simply because you married afterward does not change the fact.”

  Mary shrugged. “The vicar would probably argue that the king is amoral.”

  “The king is amoral.”

  “So he is. But that doesn’t change the fact that you are a ruined woman. You must marry Mr. Jenkins. Soon, Olivia. There are consequences to your actions that will not wait for you to change your mind.”

  Olivia stared out the window. “There is nothing to worry on that regard, Mary. There are no unexpected consequences.”

  “Do you not wish to have children?”

  Olivia glanced at her. A touchy subject, she knew. “I am an aunt many times over. That’s enough for me.”

  Mary snorted. “You can lie to yourself, Livvy, but I at least know there is a vast difference between being an aunt and a mother.”

  “I know, but it doesn’t call to me, Mary. I don’t lie awake picturing my child.”

  Mary rubbed her belly lightly, then nodded. “I understand. It won’t be the end of the world if you don’t have one.”

  “No matter what Mama thinks. How many grandchildren does one woman need?”

  “I think she wants granddaughters.”

  Olivia conceded the point. The newest generation was overrun with boys.

  “What of Mr. Jenkins?”

  “What of him?”

  “Where does he stand in all this? I thought you liked him. I thought he liked you.”

  “I do like him, and I believe he does like me. But that was never part of our agreement. He agreed to certain rules.”

  Olivia sighed. She should end it now. She should write him a quick note telling him his services were no longer needed. She didn’t know if she could do it, though. How could she give up the best times of her life? Why should she have to?

  Damn men and their rules. Damn marriage. She could be quite happy as a kept woman. As long as she was Nathaniel’s kept woman. What need had she of society? She could endure the jeers of the ton, the insults. Oh, if only she was an only child, with no family to suffer from her actions.

  Mary looked intrigued at the idea of an agreement but merely said, “Agreements change, Olivia. You like him, he likes you. Why are we having this conversation? We should be celebrating your engagement.”

  “It is marriage I do not care for.”

  “What have you against marriage?”

  “Have you met our parents? They’re miserable.”

  Mary studied her. “I don’t think they’re miserable.”

  “They have nothing in common, rarely talk to each other, and remember the fights they used to have? I’m surprised any of us married.”

  “I don’t remember them fighting. And they have six children in common. I think that’s something.”

  Olivia sighed. “Mary, you’ve been in love with Rufus since before you could walk. You were oblivious to our parents strife.”

  “And you are too sensitive. You notice every little detail, but miss the big picture. They’re happy together now, don’t you agree?”

  Olivia shrugged. “They seem resigned.”

  Mary narrowed her eyes. “What of Rufus and me? Do you think that we fight all the time and have nothing to talk about and nothing in common?”

  “No.”

  “But?”

  “But I don’t think it will last. I don’t want to be mean, Mary, but I’ve never seen any marriage stay happy. For instance, Prudence. She’s so miserable, I can hardly stand to be around her.”

  “Prudence is pregnant with her fifth child in six years and you know how swollen she gets at the end. I don’t think that’s a fair example. Besides, just the fact that this is the fifth baby means that she and Marcus have something in common.”

  “A bed.”

  Mary laughed. “Yes, a bed. And don’t knock it. Prue could keep him out of it if she wanted. Just as Mama could have kept Papa out, and they had six.”

  Olivia shook her head. “I know she has what she wants, as does Mama, and so do you. It’s just.... It’s just that I don’t want it. I don’t want to be stuck with someone that I hate, eating meals in silence, or relying on my children for love. I don’t want that, Mary.”

  “And you think that will happen with Mr. Jenkins?”

  “It’s inevitable. One day he will look at me with loathing instead of passion. One day he will think himself a fool for letting his emotions push him into marrying so unsuitably. I need only look at Papa to see how it will happen.” She shook her head and whispered, “I could not bear it if I saw Nathaniel look at me like that.”

  Mary took her hand gently. “I never realized how pessimistic you are.”

  “I’m realistic. I refuse to be blinded by love.”

  “No, you’re blinded by fear.”

  Olivia was silent.

  Mary patted her arm. “You are not Mama, Mr. Jenkins is not Papa. If anyone can have a marriage worthy of love, it is you, Livvy. You can make anything work. The only question is, do you want to make it work with Mr. Jenkins?”

  Thirteen

  “Aunt Livvy, Aunt Livvy! We have a surprise for you!”

  “You do?” Olivia grunted as she caught her five year-old nephew as he flung himself into her arms.

  Olivia’s eldest sister Prudence lumbered from the coach. “Yes, but not yet, Richie. It’s a surprise.”

  “I told her it was a surprise.”

  “Hmm. We’ll have to work on that.”

  Olivia let Richie go as he spied his cousins. She kissed Prue on the cheek.

  “How’s the little devil?”

  Prue grunted. “This is the last one, I swear. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, and my ankles! I look like a cow.”

  “You’ve said each one was the last one, so I can hardly believe you now.”

  “I keep having boys! Four boys in a row
! Even God could not be so cruel. I deserve a girl, surely.”

  “And what if this one’s a boy?”

  “Don’t curse me, Olivia. If this one’s a boy, Marcus will be sleeping with his horses.”

  “Mmm. And you’ll have another. Mother didn’t learn her lesson until she had six. I doubt you’ll give up before then either.”

  Prudence groaned. “Every night I pray to God that I will do anything, anything, if He’ll just make sure this one is a girl.”

  “Then how can He refuse. Come, Prue. I have a seat all set up for you in the pasture.”

  Prudence swatted her. “Just wait until you start waddling around. I’ll not hold my glee.” Prudence eyed her. “Is your Mr. Jenkins coming today?”

  “He is not my Mr. Jenkins.”

  “I think the lady doth protest too much. He is certainly no one else’s. He only dances with you at balls, I hear. Two dances, then poof.”

  “I’m going to cut out Mary’s tongue.”

  “Tut-tut. Does your Mr. Jenkins know how violent you are? Oh, never fear, dear. I certainly won’t tell him. He’ll find out soon enough after the wedding when you lock him in his bedroom so you can paint in peace.”

  Was she never to live that down? She had been in braids when she had pulled that little stunt.

  She changed the subject. “Have you heard if Eugenia is coming today?”

  “She said she would try, although she is feeling a little under the weather.” Prudence winked. “I believe a wedding-night baby is on the way.”

  “Egad. Two sisters expecting at the same time? How will we ever survive.”

  “Mmm. At least I’m almost done. I feel bad for Mary though. She laughed it off when Amelia became pregnant right away, but it has been four years now. What will she think when she hears about Eugenia?”

  “Probably the same thing I thought when I heard she was getting married. Rot her. The youngest should never do anything before the eldest have had their turn.”

  Prudence chuckled. “I would have given you my monthly allowance if you’d said that to Eugenia when she was getting married. Perhaps I’ll mention it to Mary.”

  Luncheon was served picnic-style. Cold ham, diced potatoes, and light wine. The men and children sprawled in the grass; the ladies sat in chairs.

  Eugenia stood up and announced that, yes, she was in the family way.

  Mrs. Blakesley clapped her hands, the men congratulated Landon, and Mr. Blakesley said, “We can never have too many babies.”

  Olivia snorted. If this family had anything in excess, it was babies.

  Mary entered the melée with, “Rot you, Eugenia,” and everyone turned to stare at her.

  Prudence hid her chortle behind a very loud cough that turned into a real fit. Olivia pounded her on the back.

  Eugenia fingered her lace collar. “I’m sorry, Mary. I don’t mean to be cruel but just because you can’t have a baby doesn’t mean everyone can’t be happy for me.”

  Mary looked unperturbed. “I can have a baby, you twit. I simply wanted to tell everyone first.”

  Prudence stopped coughing. “Are you truly?”

  Mary patted her tummy. “Around Christmastime.”

  Mrs. Blakesley jumped from her chair and ran to hug Mary. “A Christmas baby!”

  Marcus leaned toward Rufus and whispered, “About bloody time. Prudence wanted me to see if you needed any tips,” and Rufus turned bright red.

  Prudence narrowed her eyes. “I don’t remember you being ill at all.”

  Mary smirked. “Not a stitch. Felt better than ever.”

  “Rot you.”

  Mrs. Blakesley frowned at her. “Prudence, language!”

  Olivia rubbed her forehead. “Three sisters? That’s half the Blakesley bunch. I hope one of you has a girl. Poor little Margaret is surrounded over there by seven boys.”

  Eugenia stamped her foot. “Hello! I’m pregnant as well, Mama!”

  Mrs. Blakesley hugged her. “I know, dear. And we are excited about that as well. It’s just we’ve been waiting so long for Mary.”

  “I don’t see why that makes any difference.”

  Prudence sighed. “That’s because you’ve never learned the art of anticipation, Eugenia. The longer it takes, the better it is. That’s why Olivia’s wedding is going to be the best of the bunch, because we’ve all been waiting so long.”

  Mrs. Blakesley speared her third oldest daughter with the look, but it was too late.

  “Rot you, Prue.”

  Eugenia sat beside Olivia. “Is your Mr. Jenkins coming today, Olivia? I should think we’d all like to meet him.”

  Mary hid a snigger behind her hand and Olivia glared at her.

  “No. And he’s not my Mr. Jenkins.”

  “Really? The way Mary tells it, the engagement is as good as announced.”

  “Mary is a twit.”

  Mrs. Blakesley clapped her hands. “That is enough, girls! There are children present.”

  Little Richie peeked out from behind his father’s chair and said, “Twit.”

  Prudence leaned over and whispered, “Don’t worry, Livvy. He didn’t learn that from you.” She pointed a finger at her eavesdropping child. “Run off and play with your cousins, Richie.”

  “But when are we going to give Aunt Livvy her surprise?”

  Her father jumped up. “Quite right. Shall we go get it, Richie?”

  “Yes!”

  Olivia turned to Mary. “And have you all known about this surprise?”

  Eugenia grinned. “Of course we have. And I’m surprised Mary didn’t let you in on it.”

  Olivia was surprised, too. Mary shrugged. “I would have told you if I’d thought you wouldn’t like it.”

  “That is comforting.”

  Mrs. Blakesley swatted at Mary. “Oh, it’s quite exciting. I think, Olivia, that you will be over the moon.”

  Richie ran across the lawn, waving a small wrapped package, Grandpapa trailing behind him.

  “I’ll have to assume it’s not breakable.”

  Little Margaret and six other little boys came running over to sit by Aunt Livvy.

  Richie held the gift in his hands. “You must wait for Grandpapa.”

  “Thank you. May I hold it?”

  Prue shook her head. “Don’t give it to her until Grandpapa is here. We don’t want her cheating.”

  “Mama says no, Aunt Livvy.”

  “Well then, what does it feel like?”

  A chorus of yells and boos greeted her question and she sat back, grinning at her family. It wasn’t even her birthday. A thought crossed her mind that it had something to do with Nathaniel and she nearly groaned. What would her family do when she broke off their agreement and never saw him again? Hang her, most likely.

  Mr. Blakesley resumed his chair. “Go ahead, Richie. Let her open it.”

  Richie solemnly handed her the gift and Olivia felt through the wrapping. She bent it in half, and looked up.

  “It feels like a magazine.”

  The children yelled at her to open it, and so she unwrapped it. She looked at for a moment in consternation.

  “It’s my monthly star magazine. Have you renewed my subscription?”

  Mrs. Blakesley leaned forward. “No, silly. Open it.”

  She opened it and read the contents page and felt the blood drain from her face.

  “My article,” she whispered. “They published my article.”

  Mr. Blakesley leaned forward. “With drawings! Look at the article, my dear. Everything is in detail. Quite extraordinary. None of the other articles have drawings half so well done.”

  “You sent in my article to be published after they’d already rejected it?”

  “And look, Olivia,” Mrs. Blakesley leaned forward,” with your own name, not some silly fake one.”

  She looked up at her family, all smiling and happy for her, and bit back her retort. Not some silly fake name? This was exciting? The entire world was going to laugh at her. Oh, her family th
ought it fun that she studied the stars, but it wasn’t going to impress anybody else. It would just make them laugh harder.

  “Thank you.”

  Prudence nudged her. “Come, Olivia. Is that all you have to say? Your name! In a respected journal.”

  Olivia looked down again, scanning her article, eying her drawings. She had hoped one day to find her work accepted. But the article had needed more work. And she definitely wouldn’t have used her own name!

  “It’s overwhelming. I can’t think what to say.”

  Her father smiled. “Let the poor girl get her head around it. It’s not every day the Blakesley name is put in print.”

  Marcus slapped his knee. “Well, pass it ‘round. Let us have a look at it.”

  The children gathered around him and they loudly exclaimed at the drawings.

  Her father winked at her. “Well done, Livvy.”

  Olivia smiled, wondering how big a debacle this would create.

  Mary slipped her arm through Olivia’s and steered her towards the trees. “You hated it. Even I thought you would be excited.”

  “You thought I would like having my name bandied about?

  “Oh, Olivia. No one will care a fig if you’ve published in a magazine. I doubt anyone will even know.”

  “Did none of you think this would cause a stir in society?”

  “Olivia, no one but you reads those dreadfully dull tomes. And no, I don’t think it will cause a stir. Why should it?”

  “Because I am already odd man out, that’s why.”

  Mary eyed her. “Are you worried about your Mr. Jenkins reaction?”

  “Aaargh! He is not my Mr. Jenkins.”

  Mary laughed. “Of course not. Anyway, everyone in the family is quite proud of you. Especially Papa. And I know you don’t care at all what society thinks of you anyway. We shall simply see if Mr. Jenkins is worthy of you, shan’t we?”

  Fourteen

  Olivia heard the murmurings as soon as she entered the ballroom. She hissed at Mary, “See. No one will care a fig, my ars-”