Regency Romance Collection From Christina Courtenay

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Regency Romance Collection From Christina Courtenay Page 4

by Christina Courtenay


  ‘What’s wrong?’ she asked, confused and dizzy.

  ‘I think perhaps we need more time to get to know each other before we pursue this, my dear,’ he said. His voice sounded oddly cold and Amelia shivered. Had she put him off with her ardour? She knew that young ladies of quality were not supposed to show their feelings, but she had not thought this applied to encounters with one’s own husband.

  ‘As you wish,’ she murmured, distraught that she may have given him a disgust of her. She stumbled towards the bed and sat down abruptly.

  ‘It would be best if we get a good night’s sleep, we have much to do tomorrow,’ James said and went over to his side of the bed.

  Engulfed in misery, Amelia hardly noticed as he blew out the candles, undressed and lay down. Without looking at him, she did the same in the dark, but it was a long time before sleep claimed her.

  James lay staring into the darkness, very aware of the woman only a few inches away from him. The woman who had been willing to give him everything she had to offer.

  He had wanted her – still wanted her – with a fierceness that had taken him by surprise, but her passionate response to his kiss had made warning bells ring inside his brain and stopped him from taking things further as yet. He found himself wondering how much he really knew about his new wife – what if she were not the innocent she claimed to be? What if he had been duped and she really had been Sir Bernard’s mistress already? Her abandoned caresses suggested experience. Perhaps this was all a ruse so that Sir Bernard would not have to accept the consequences of his actions? What if Amelia was already with child? She had claimed not to be, but she could have been lying.

  And dear Lord, why didn’t I think of this before? Why did I take her word for it? But she had seemed so sincere and he had been so angry at her cousin ...

  A cold knot formed in his stomach. He would have looked a fool indeed if she was pregnant and he had to claim the child as his own simply because he couldn’t wait to bed her himself. It would account for her willingness to marry a man she barely knew and her wanton behaviour just now.

  James began to think of more and more possibilities, his mind torturing him with visions of Amelia kissing someone else as passionately as she had him. All the conversations they had had during the journey, when he had begun to like and trust her, were instantly forgotten.

  I must have been mad, he thought. I should have checked her story more thoroughly. But he had been taken in by her air of a damsel in distress and the loathsome Sir Bernard had certainly done his bit to convince him. James swore silently. Well, he would not fall for her wiles. If she was with child, let her try and foist it on someone else. He would bide his time and make sure before he touched her again. Until then, she would be his wife in name only.

  As for his grandfather’s wish for him to have an heir on the way, that would have to wait. Hopefully the old man would live at least another six months and James was sure he would know within two or three if Amelia was pregnant or not. Perhaps he could have her examined by a doctor? No, nature will take its course so there should be no need for that. She would have to be a few month’s gone already in order to be certain herself, if that truly was her motive in proposing, so in the not too distant future the pregnancy would begin to show ... His brain worked feverishly, turning over the possibilities, but he was sure he was right. One of his female cousins had regaled him with all the tedious details of being enceinte and he remembered what she had said, despite being bored out of his skull at the time.

  And if there is no sign of a child? Once he was sure Amelia had been telling the truth, they could continue with the marriage as planned. If not, I will have to divorce her.

  Besides, he thought, there was no guarantee of a child for him and Amelia in any case. It was up to God whether they would be so blessed, as and when the time came to try. And Grandfather would want him to make sure that any heir was a true Winholt.

  James swore to do just that.

  James was already gone by the time Amelia was awakened by a kindly maidservant who brought her hot water to wash with and some breakfast. Amelia’s head was throbbing with the after effects of the wine, but she made herself eat a little nonetheless. James had said they had a busy day ahead of them, so she needed something to settle her stomach.

  Just as she had finished eating, her new husband entered the room, looking as if nothing had happened at all. Amelia frowned slightly, but could not pluck up the courage to ask him anything about it.

  ‘Are you ready?’ he asked. ‘We are going to Carlisle to buy you some clothes. I can’t arrive home with a wife who is dressed in cast-offs, which is what I take that to be?’ He nodded towards the dress she was wearing, which was indeed one that had belonged to Lady Marsh. ‘And I did promise to buy you a new wardrobe, did I not?’

  ‘Yes, I remember you mentioning it, but I’m sure just a few things will do for now.’

  ‘We’ll see,’ was all he would say before hurrying her out of the room.

  Carlisle was not very far from Gretna Green and they found it to be quite a large, bustling place. After making enquiries, they were directed to a dressmaker in the High Street who, although very obviously not of French origin, called herself Madame Antoinette. Having met the lady, Amelia hoped quietly to herself that the lady’s talent for dressmaking was rather better than her acting skills as her French accent was atrocious. Fortunately this soon proved to be the case.

  Madame ushered Amelia into a changing room and ordered her to take off her clothes. Amelia obeyed and waited for the exclamation she knew was coming.

  ‘Oh, la, la! What on earth? Why are you wearing zat?’ Madame Antoinette pointed to the roll of padding around Amelia’s waist. ‘Are you mad, my lady? I mean, I beg your pardon, but who in zeir right mind wants to be fatter zan zey have to?’

  Amelia smiled. ‘I was trying to make myself unattractive in order to keep a suitor at bay,’ she explained, ‘but I suppose I no longer need it now.’

  ‘Well, no more! Off, off with it I say.’ Madame wasn’t having any of this. ‘You have a lovely figure, we must show it off to ze Monsieur. Oui, oui.’

  It was therefore a rather more svelte Amelia who emerged from the changing room, dressed in a gown Madame had made for someone else who now no longer wanted it. It was a low-cut evening dress of ice blue satin with an overdress of silver gauze, and Amelia felt distinctly uncomfortable with so much of her bosom on display. But it was a beautiful dress and she had to admit that it fitted her perfectly. James, who had been idly flicking through a book of prints while sipping a glass of wine, looked up and almost choked on his latest mouthful.

  ‘What the devil …? What have you done to yourself?’ He stood up abruptly and came over to inspect her more closely. ‘I won’t have you squeezing yourself into tight corsets in the name of fashion, like the Prince Regent does. That’s ridiculous. You will surely faint.’

  ‘I’m not wearing a corset, James, I … well, it’s a long story. You see, I was wearing padding to make myself appear slightly larger than I really am.’

  ‘Whatever for?’ He was scowling at her and she took a step back.

  ‘To put Bernard off, although it didn’t work very well. So what do you think? Will this gown do?’

  James still looked flummoxed and didn’t immediately reply. In fact, he looked very annoyed indeed, and Amelia couldn’t understand why her subterfuge should rile him so. She put a hand on his arm and said, ‘I’m sorry if I’ve startled you. I suppose I should have removed the padding before, but I had no choice but to keep wearing it as none of my clothes would have fit otherwise. I’ve had no chance to alter any of my old gowns yet, but I would have done eventually, I promise.’

  He didn’t look as though he believed her and she acknowledged that she should have mentioned it before, but there had never seemed a good time. He snatched his arm away as if she had branded him, and Amelia couldn’t help but feel hurt that her touch affected him thus. If he couldn’t bear for her
to even put a hand on his arm, how would they ever live together? She turned around, with drooping shoulders, and muttered something about trying on another gown.

  James stared after Amelia as she disappeared behind the curtain yet again. He could not but see her pretence as yet another instance of her having duped him. He supposed he should have noticed when he held her in his arms the night before, but he had been so intent on kissing her, it never occurred to him that her waist felt strange.

  He ought to be grateful that she was so much prettier than he had thought. Her bosom had not been faked, and combined with the narrow waist so newly revealed it gave her a stunning figure. Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that she was taking him for a fool, and it was not one he relished.

  Had he married a deceitful woman or was he wrong about her? He wished he knew.

  Amelia had lost all her enthusiasm for clothes shopping, but Madame was nothing if not thorough. Amelia soon found herself the owner of several morning dresses, two evening gowns, a ball gown, a carriage dress and no less than three walking dresses. There was also an array of undergarments and every other item a lady could possibly require, including a lovely fur-trimmed travelling cloak, a small Spencer jacket and a shot silk pelisse.

  ‘Are you sure we should be buying quite this much?’ she asked James in a whisper while Madame went in search of yet another item. Since he was so annoyed with her, she wondered whether he was really wishing to spend a fortune on her wardrobe. He must be regretting his promise by now.

  ‘I never go back on my word,’ James said, although his mouth tightened slightly as if she had guessed correctly. ‘And while we are here, you must have a riding outfit. You are, after all, going to live in the country most of the time.’ He added as an afterthought, ‘You do ride, I take it?’

  ‘Yes, of course I do,’ Amelia answered, exasperated with his strange mood. ‘My father saw to it that I had the best possible tuition and I love horses.’

  On the way back to the inn, they stopped at a milliner to acquire several different bonnets to match her new outfits. They also bought some new boots, slippers and gloves. Amelia’s head fairly whirled with it all and she wondered vaguely if they would have to hire an extra carriage just to bring all her luggage.

  ‘It was lucky that Madame Antoinette had so many gowns already made up,’ Amelia commented on the way back to the inn. She felt the need to make small talk in order to try and lighten the mood a little. ‘She said they were for some young woman whose mother died before she was able to go off on her season. How very sad.’

  ‘Indeed, but fortunate for you,’ James commented in a somewhat dry tone.

  Amelia tried not to feel hurt at his continued pique. ‘Yes. Thank you very much for buying me all those things, you have been far too generous. I’m sure I didn’t need the half of it.’

  ‘You are welcome. I can’t have my wife looking like a dowd,’ he replied, looking so forbidding Amelia didn’t dare pursue the topic. She didn’t yet know enough about her new husband to be able to coax him out of his bad humour, so she could only wait and hope that it would pass.

  CHAPTER SIX

  They began their journey south the following morning, but it was very different from the one they had shared before. James said hardly a word and Amelia did not dare initiate any conversations when he looked so stern. Consequently, they travelled in silence most of the time and Amelia found that she missed the companionship they had shared on the way north.

  If she was perfectly honest with herself, she had begun to like James very much during those conversations. And even though he had been acting strange since the wedding, she still found him attractive. Just sitting in the same carriage as him did funny things to her insides, and whenever his gaze rested on her, she felt warm all over. She could only hope that his mood would improve soon so that they could continue to get to know each other.

  The southward journey was accomplished at a slightly slower pace and they stopped overnight several times.

  ‘Your two best chambers, if you please,’ James demanded each time, and Amelia didn’t know whether to be grateful or sorry that they slept in separate rooms every night.

  During a rare exchange of conversation, he told her that they needed to stop in London in order for him to sort out all the legalities of their marriage with his lawyers.

  ‘But there is no point opening up my town house for just one night, I think. You won’t mind staying at Brown’s Hotel, will you?’ he asked.

  ‘No, of course not.’ Brown’s was considered one of the finest hotels in London, so how could she possibly object?

  Their suite consisted of two bedrooms with a shared sitting room in between, and it was done up in the best possible taste. There were some surprised glances from the staff when James demanded the use of a maid for his wife, but he lied glibly.

  ‘I’m afraid her ladyship’s maid was taken ill during the journey and so we had to leave her behind.’ No one seemed to dare comment on the fact he hadn’t brought his valet either and a nice cheerful girl soon arrived to assist Amelia with changing her gown and arranging her hair.

  After a quick luncheon, served in their private sitting room, James said he would like to pay a visit to his lawyers straight away.

  ‘Might as well get it over with. Do you mind staying here on your own for a while?’

  Amelia felt sure he was only asking out of politeness, so she didn’t make a fuss. ‘No, of course not. I am a little fatigued from the journey so I might have a rest.’

  ‘Good. I will see you later then.’

  The law firm’s offices were situated near the Inns of Court. James was ushered into the office of Mr Jarvis, his solicitor, almost immediately. A small wiry man, Jarvis wore thick spectacles, behind which were a pair of very intelligent eyes that seemed to miss nothing.

  ‘Lord Demarr, what a pleasure to see you again.’

  ‘And you, Mr Jarvis, I trust I find you well?’

  ‘Very well, thank you. Please be seated.’ Jarvis indicated a comfortable chair facing his desk and sat down in his own chair once more. ‘Now then, to what do I owe this unexpected visit, my lord?’

  ‘I have come to inform you that I’m recently married, to the former Miss Amelia Ravenscroft.’

  ‘Really? A new Lady Demarr, excellent.’ Mr Jarvis smiled at him, but looked slightly puzzled. ‘But how is this? I have not seen any announcements in the papers.’

  ‘No, I’m afraid we have been very remiss in that quarter,’ James replied with an apologetic shrug. ‘You see, we have only been married a week and I’m afraid it was a somewhat clandestine affair. Gretna Green, in fact. For reasons we will not go into now, my wife’s guardian would not have approved our marriage so this was the only way.’

  ‘I see. May I have a look at the marriage lines, please, my lord?’

  ‘Of course.’ James handed him the papers. ‘I would be grateful if you would keep them here, somewhere very safe. I wouldn’t like them to fall into the wrong hands.’

  ‘Naturally.’ Mr Jarvis took this request in his stride. ‘And do I take it you wish to draw up some settlements?’

  ‘That’s right. Although ...’ James hesitated, not sure how much he should confide in the lawyer. Eventually, he settled for a half-truth. ‘As the marriage was entered into with such haste, we have decided on a trial period, without, er ... That is to say, if we find we don’t suit, we want to have the option of an annulment. Therefore, any arrangements I make with you today are contingent upon the marriage becoming completely valid in all respects.’

  Jarvis nodded. ‘I understand, my lord. You can rely on me, I won’t breathe a word to anyone of this. Just let me know when you have decided one way or another.’

  ‘Thank you.’ James heaved an inward sigh of relief, thankful that Jarvis was so sharp.

  There followed a lengthy session about settlements and the like. When Jarvis asked for details of Amelia’s background, James told him what he knew. Jarvis nodded and mutt
ered, ‘Excellent family that, the Marquess of Ravenscroft was well regarded,’ which pleased James. At least I got one thing right, then! The fact that Amelia’s father had committed suicide was not mentioned and James assumed it had been hushed up.

  It doesn’t matter anyway. After all, the marriage may not last, he thought, so it might be irrelevant. And he had caused enough scandal himself and therefore would not worry unduly about one more.

  Amelia had ordered some afternoon tea to be served in the private sitting room and James returned just in time to join her.

  ‘I hope you don’t mind?’ she asked. ‘I felt in need of some refreshment.’

  ‘Not at all, good idea.’ James accepted a cup from her and sat down. ‘I have arranged for you to receive a monthly allowance so you can buy whatever you need. Although I will of course pay for any larger purchases.’ He handed her a small purse. ‘This is the first instalment. My lawyer will arrange for you to have an account at Coutts from now on, which you can draw upon.’

  ‘Oh, thank you, that is very generous.’ Amelia almost felt guilty for accepting. She didn’t feel she had done anything to deserve this as yet, although that was not entirely her fault, she reasoned.

  ‘It is nothing. I am not a poor man and I would not have it said that I was ever stingy towards my wife.’

  James further surprised her by suggesting a visit to the opera that evening, in order to pass the time. Amelia accepted with alacrity, as she had a passion for the opera and indeed had an excellent singing voice herself. Her father had often bemoaned the fact that she could not show off her own talent at the Theatre Royal in Covent Garden, but instead he had made her give private recitals to their friends, which were much sought after.

  ‘You don’t think there is any chance of meeting Bernard, though?’ she asked, remembering that London was where her cousin spent most of his time.

 

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