The Reluctant Bride

by Meg Alexander

  The thought should have pleased her, but for some unaccountable reason it did not. Nothing of her feelings showed in her face as he rose to take his leave of her at last.

  'Until tomorrow then?' He stood looking down at her. 'For dinner?'

  'Certainly, my lord. I hope to see you then.'

  'Do you, my darling?' Smiling, he left her to her thoughts.

  Chapter Ten

  India, have you run quite mad?' Mrs Rushford was dismayed by the news of the dinner party. 'How are we to feed his lordship? You cannot see to it, and Martha is quite unable to manage on her own. How you came to suggest it I can't imagine. It was thoughtless in the extreme.'

  'I didn't suggest it,' India told her quietly. 'It was Anthony who insisted. There will be no difficulty. More food has been sent over from the Grange, and knowing him I have no doubt that there is sufficient to provide a creditable meal.'

  'And I can help,' Letty offered. 'Mama, you have not told India about the arrangements for her wedding.'

  'They are well enough,' Isabel said ungraciously. 'It can be nothing more than a hole-and-corner affair, of course. Had it been held in London the Prince himself might have attended...Isham should take care not to offend the Regent. I hear he is slow to forgive an insult.'

  "The Prince understands that we are still in mourning. Anthony has seen him already.'

  This remark reduced Mrs Rushford to A momentary silence, but she soon recovered.

  'Martha tells me that Dr Pettifer has been to see you. What had he to say?'

  This unexpected enquiry about her health surprised her elder daughter, but the reason soon became apparent.

  'I must continue to rest my foot unless I wish to hobble down the aisle,' India replied. 'It is much easier today.'

  Mrs Rushford threw her eyes to heaven. 'That is all we need!' she cried. 'Our wedding-clothes have not yet arrived, we have no bonnets, and now there will be no time to make another trip to choose them. We shall be a laughing stock...positive dowds!'

  She was mistaken. Later that day the carrier brought a pile of boxes, and for the next hour Isabel was happily engaged in examining the contents. The gowns were all that anyone might have desired, but Madame, with her usual foresight, had included a number of bonnets designed to match each toilette.

  Mrs Rushford turned to her daughters, resplendent in a magnificent turban made of the same beaded satin as her tunic and trimmed with aigrette. 'Does this not become me, girls?' she exclaimed in delight.

  India had found another box. 'This is not ours,' she murmured. 'It must have been included by mistake.' She held up a pair of pantaloons, trimmed with fine Swiss lace in one hand, whilst the other held a ravishing negligee, made of pale green silk.

  'Of course they belong to you,' Mrs Rushford scolded. 'I ordered them whilst you were choosing fabrics, India. I knew that you had given no thought to the provision of your underclothes, but you must have chemises and petticoats and nightrobes, as well as caps.'

  Letty held up a pair of drawers. 'Are not these a little daring?' she asked. 'I thought it was only gentlemen who wore trousers.' She began to blush.

  'They are quite the latest thing.' Her mother admonished. 'Letty, it is one thing to be modest, and quite another to be ignorant of fashion. You have seen drawers before. Your brother wears them, as you must have realised on wash-day. Now ladies are to wear them too. There can be nothing strange in that.'

  India hid a smile. In the pursuit of fashion all was acceptable to her mama. She closed the box, a little perturbed at the probable cost of all this finery, and even more by the prospect of appearing before her husband in the wispy negligee, which left nothing to the imagination.

  When their mama had gong upstairs to rest, India questioned Letty.

  'I'm sorry about the dinner. Shall you mind very much? It would have been uncivil of me to refuse such a clear request.'

  'I don't mind it the least, though it is sure to be a crush. Isham is so large. He will fill our little dining-room.' Letty giggled. 'We shall have our elbows in each other's ribs.'

  'I can't think what possessed him when he might have dined in comfort at the Grange.'

  'It could not be that he wished to spend the evening with you?' Letty said slyly. "

  India smiled, but she shook her head. 'Why are you so determined to prove that he holds me in affection?

  It simply isn't true. Isham and I are strangers to each other. Besides, the leopard cannot change his spots. Doubtless he will continue to gamble and to womanise after we are married. I am not fool enough to think that I can change him.'

  Letty was looking deeply troubled, but she persisted. 'I was persuaded that you had grown to like him better, India. He has been so very kind...'

  'Kind, generous, thoughtful and amusing,' India agreed. 'Perhaps if I could forget the past...? Well, it does not signify.' She shrugged her shoulders. 'Let us discuss our arrangements for tomorrow.'

  'No!' Letty's face was pink with determination. 'I will say this, though you may hate me for it. You are being most unfair to Lord Isham. You have not given him a chance to make you love him. Feeling as you do, you should break off the engagement.'

  India stared at her normally timid sister in amazement. Letty's outburst was so totally out of character, and the criticism stung, especially as it was justified. 'I won't do that,' she said coolly. 'This marriage will take place.'

  Then, as the tears sprang to her sister's eyes, India relented. 'I will be good,' she promised. 'And you are right. Anthony and I are on the way to becoming friends. He makes me laugh, you see. It is difficult to be upon my high ropes for long. Tomorrow I shall make amends.'

  It was not to be. The following morning brought Isham's groom with a message of regret. His lordship had been called to London on urgent business.

  India's misgivings returned. Anthony had not mentioned such a possibility, and she found herself speculating as to the exact nature of this so-called 'urgent business'. She said as much to Letty.

  'Oh, India, will you not trust him for just this once? Must you always believe the worst?'

  India was honest enough to acknowledge the justice of her sister's remark. Again, she had prejudged without knowing all the facts. Even so, she was impatient for an explanation.

  This was not to be vouchsafed for several days and, confined to her couch, she had plenty of time to think. It was fruitless to try to imagine what could have taken Isham away so suddenly. She would put it out of her mind, but that was easier said than done.

  She groaned inwardly at Letty's attempts to interest her in craft-work.

  'You might paint a memorial screen,' Letty suggested artlessly.

  'It would be a memorial to my ineptitude, my love. Have you forgot my efforts at the Academy? I tried painting on glass, on velvet, in fact, upon any available surface. The results were just the same. Mrs Guarding despaired of me.'

  'Oh no, she didn't!' Letty began to smile. 'She prized learning above the more usual accomplishments.'

  Visitors were a welcome diversion for the invalid. Her Aunt Elizabeth came over from the Rectory with the girls, but it was Hester who solved the problem of India's enforced idleness.

  'Have you read this?' She handed over a book.

  'Sense and Sensibility? No, I have not. It is a curious title...'

  'But a most interesting book. If you do not love it as I do, I shall disown you...'

  'Strong praise indeed!'

  'But justified. Now where is your betrothed? I made sure that I should meet him here.'

  'Isham is called away to London.'

  Hester made no comment, but Mrs Rushford did not lose the opportunity to complain.

  'So inconvenient!' she grumbled. 'I had a thousand things to ask him about the restoration of the Grange. Let this be a lesson to you, India. Gentlemen are a law unto themselves. They do not consider others.'

  India caught Hester's eye and suffered a sudden attack of coughing which forced her to bury her face in her handkerchief. M
ercifully, Hester held her tongue.

  'How is your foot?' she asked at last. 'Are you able to walk upon it?'

  'Dr Pettifer has promised that tomorrow I may try.'

  'I cannot imagine why we continue to employ him,' Mrs Rushford complained. 'He is such a fusspot. India might well have been upon her feet a week ago.'

  Hester's lips tightened, but in answer to India's unspoken plea, she bit back a sharp reply. 'Is there anything I can do to help?' she asked instead. 'Have you packed your trunks?'

  'That task will not take long,' Mrs Rushford sniffed. 'Since India intends to start her married life without a rag to her back.'

  'Mama, did I not explain that Isham intends to take me to Madame Felice when we visit London?'

  'And until then? How are you to go on in Cheshire?'

  'We shall be living quietly, I expect. Hester, it is kind of you to offer to help. If you will lend me your arm I shall manage the stairs. Letty has half filled my boxes, but we could finish them.'

  It was with a sigh of relief that she gained the sanctuary of her room. Then she turned to her cousin and shook her head. 'Why do I feel always that we are on the verge of an explosion whenever you meet Mama?'

  'Possibly because it's true,' came the unrepentant reply. 'She makes me cross. Tell me, India, what took Isham away so suddenly? Father was hoping that you would dine with us before your marriage.'

  'I've no idea,' India told her frankly. 'It was unexpected, as you say. He said nothing of such a plan on the previous day. In fact, he was promised here in the evening.'

  'And you are disappointed?'

  'Not exactly.' India was prepared to stretch the truth a little, though honesty compelled her to admit to herself that she had been surprised.

  Surprised? Had that been her only emotion? In her heart she had felt discouraged too. Had Isham returned to London to pay a last visit to his opera-dancer before he took a wife? Possibly the thought of that lady's charms had proved too strong to keep him from her side.

  Even now, he might be laughing, teasing, indulging in the banter which she herself enjoyed so much. Well, if this were to be the pattern of her future life she must learn to bear it.

  She turned to Hester. 'I am so glad to see you,' she said warmly. 'And, love, the book will be a boon. I have hated the enforced idleness'

  'I know. Let me see, what was I offered when I was recuperating? I believe I had the choice of stencilling, filigree paperwork, creating silhouettes for greeting cards, pinwork or making a bouquet of paper flowers.' Her grimace was so comical that India laughed out loud.

  'You may laugh,' her cousin reproved. 'Let me tell you this. Mother thought it preferable to suggesting embroidery in case I had a relapse.'

  'Hester, you are impossible!' India felt more cheerful than she had been in days.

  'Agreed! There is no hope for me. Now, what are you to pack, my love?'

  'Letty has done most of it. We went through all the things I had last season and chose the darker colours and the heavier fabrics. I'm sure it will be cold in Cheshire.'

  'Shall you have enough?' Hester began to examine the contents of the half-filled boxes. 'I'd lend you gowns with pleasure, but they would not fit. Shall I send some shawls and gloves? You might find a use for them.'

  India was about to refuse, but the offer was so kindly meant that she could not spurn it. 'Are you sure?' she asked. 'Mama would be delighted. She is convinced that I shall be a perfect dowd, and a disgrace to my exalted station. Isham will take one look at me and I shall be sunk beneath reproach.'

  'Do you think that likely?' Hester's eyes were twinkling with amusement. 'If appearance is all he thinks about he won't be disappointed in you, but I won't believe it of him.'

  'You are right. I doubt if he will notice.' India's face clouded, but she was quick to hide her feelings. It was mortifying to think that she might be right. 'If you will open the chest we might find something else to add to my so-called rags.'

  'How about this?' Hester held up a warm redingote in a glowing shade of bronze. 'Perhaps it will serve for travelling.'

  'Oh, yes, I had forgot it. It was too heavy to wear it in the summer. I put it away unworn. You do not think it dated?'

  Hester began to laugh. 'Of course not. Styles have not changed in these last few months. India, do you intend to take the town by storm?'

  'You may believe that when you see it. My destiny is to become a dutiful wife, the chatelaine of several large establishments, and a fond mamma.' She regretted the words as soon as they were spoken. Hester must not think her bitter.

  To her surprise her cousin seemed untroubled. 'There will be more than that...much more. With a man such as Isham you will be forced to use your mind, believe me!'

  As always, Hester's visit cheered her. 'You may be right,' she admitted. 'Shall I see you again before the wedding?'

  'I think not, India. You would not believe the bustle at Perceval Hall. My father is determined to send you off in style, and Mother has a thousand things to do. I've promised to help.' She dropped a kiss upon her cousin's brow. 'Take care of your foot. I won't promise not to laugh if I hear you creaking down the aisle.'

  Hester moved towards the door, and then she turned. 'My dear, you go to your marriage with all my love. My hopes are for your happiness. Try not to worry. You have made the right decision.'

  These words of comfort were something to hang on to, and for the next few days India was able to crush her own misgivings. Her wedding day was fast approaching and at last she fell into a dreamlike state. Nothing seemed quite real, even when Isham reappeared at last on the eve of the ceremony.

  India thought he seemed preoccupied, though he greeted her with his usual pleasant smile. He kissed her hands and then her cheek as he reached into his pocket for a small flat package.

  'What is this?' she asked.

  'Why not open it, my darling?'

  Beneath the packaging, India discovered a box of fine shagreen with an ornate clasp. She threw back the lid and gasped. Against the cushioned satin lay a string of perfectly matched pearls. No expert knowledge was necessary to assure her that they were worth a king's ransom.

  'For me?' she asked in wonder.

  'One of your wedding presents, India. May I?' Without waiting for a reply, he slipped the pearls about her neck and fastened the clasp. 'Will you not see how they become you?'

  For answer she hurried over to the mirror, gazing with pleasure at the smooth sheen of the necklace as it rested against her skin. 'They are quite beautiful,' she breathed.

  'And so are you, my love. I guessed at the size of your betrothal ring. Will you try it?' He took her hand and slipped an enormous emerald on her finger. 'I hope it is to your taste.'

  'Oh, Anthony, it is a perfect fit, but I shall be afraid to wear such treasures. Supposing I should be robbed?'

  Smiling, he looked about the room. 'I see no thieves in our immediate vicinity, but I promise to wear my pistols at all times.'

  'Mama was right...you are spoiling me,' she said shyly.

  'I haven't yet begun to do so. My dear one, I promise you a happy life. Will you trust me?'

  India nodded, too overcome to speak.

  'That happiness will start tomorrow. I have a surprise for you...'

  'Another one? Please tell me what it is?'

  'No, you must possess your soul in patience. There is another matter. After the ceremony, I thought that we should stay at the Grange for just one night. The day will be hectic, and by the time we get away it will be too late to travel far. Do you agree?'

  'You plan to make an early start next day?'

  'I do. It will take some time to journey into Cheshire. We shall travel in easy stages.' „

  'Anthony, is something troubling you?' India had not meant to question him, mindful of her mother's strictures as to the horrors of nagging wives, but she had sensed that he was not quite himself.

  'Nothing at all, my darling. Until tomorrow then, and the start of a new life?' He held
her to him for a brief moment. Then he was gone, leaving India to wonder if he was already regretting his bargain.

  India's wedding day dawned bright and clear. Her new maid, Nan, had been sent over from the Grange, and both mistress and maid took an instant liking to one another. The girl was quiet and pleasant and she proved adept at hairdressing. It seemed no time at all before India was being handed into the carriage which was to take her to the church.

  Everything about her seemed unreal. Was this really India Rushford, on her way to marry a man she hardly knew? It didn't seem possible.

  The church was crowded, rather to her surprise, but the faces were a blur as she walked slowly down the aisle upon her brother's arm.

  Then the tall figure at the altar steps turned towards her. Isham's face was radiant with happiness. India smiled up at him and then she gasped. Beyond him she could see a familiar face. It was that of Oliver Wells. So that was the surprise.

  Her uncle William motioned the betrothed couple towards him and began to read the order of service. Isham gave his responses in a strong voice but India's replies were barely audible.

  After signing the register she found herself upon her husband's arm, moving out of the church through the throng of well-wishers. It had happened so quickly. Just the exchange of a few words, a service and she was now the Lady Isham, handfasted to the man who walked beside her.

  The route to Perceval Hall was lined with villagers, many of whom worked on Sir James's estate, and India waved to all of them.

  'You are popular, my lady.' Isham slipped an arm about his bride.

  'I have known them all since childhood. How good of them to come to wish us well! My lord, Oliver Wells was one of your supporters. How could that be?'

  'Stillington was otherwise engaged. He mistook the date...' Isham told her with a twinkle.

  India shook her head. 'Now that I will not believe. I had not thought that you were acquainted with Oliver?'

  'I wasn't, but I made it my business to become so.'

  'You have been to Bristol? You did not tell me,' she reproached.