by Diane Gaston
The square was lovely, with trees starting to sprout leaves and plenty of grass and benches for people to sit on.
A lady and gentleman sat on one of the benches, their hands clasped.
Tess gasped.
It was Marc and Miss Caldwell.
Chapter Ten
Tess quickly glanced at Lady Northdon and Amelie to see if they noticed the couple, but both ladies and even Nancy were still wrapped up in the discussion about fabric.
Her throat tightened.
Why would Marc be with Miss Caldwell?
Why else but that he still felt an attachment to her?
How often had she heard her father lament that he’d married her mother instead of the woman he truly loved—Edmund’s mother. He’d kept Edmund’s mother as a mistress and she’d borne him a son. He’d spent more time with her than with his own wife, more time with his son than the children his wife eventually bore, the ones everyone said were fathered by her lovers.
They all wound up unhappy. That is what happened when two people did not marry for love.
That is what would happen to her and Marc.
The carriage entered Grosvenor Street and brought them to the door.
When they were inside the town house, Tess said, ‘I am suddenly very tired. I believe I will retire to my room for a little while.’
‘Mon Dieu, ma chérie,’ exclaimed Lady Northdon. ‘You do look pale. Go. Rest. We do not wish you a maladie.’
Her kindness made Tess’s eyes prick with tears.
She gave Lady Northdon a quick hug. ‘Thank you, madame.’
She felt like running up the stairs and flinging herself on the bed as she did when she was little and Lorene or Edmund teased her. Instead she forced herself to walk at a normal pace.
Once in the room, she still could not dissemble. Nancy would enter any minute and how would she explain her tears to the maid?
Nancy came into the room, carrying the packages from the shopping trip. ‘Oh, miss, I must say that I adore London! I had no idea there could be so many shops. I do believe Lady Northdon knows them all!’ She set the packages on a table. ‘So many corsets! Did you ever see the like? I understand now how the right corset might enhance a gown. It is like discovering the New World, is it not?’
‘A whole new world.’ Tess sank into a chair. ‘Of corsets.’
‘So.’ Nancy faced her, arms akimbo. ‘What may I do for you? You look very tired.’
‘Help me into a morning dress.’ She rubbed her eyes. ‘I may even nap a little.’
Nancy sprang into action, pulling one of Tess’s new morning dresses from the wardrobe.
As she helped Tess out of her walking dress, Tess asked, ‘Did the shopping not even tire you today, Nancy?’
‘Oh, no, miss!’ Nancy pulled the dress over her head. ‘There is too much to see.’
She helped Tess into the morning dress and brushed out her hair and put it into a plait. ‘There. That should be more comfortable for you. When you are finished resting, summon me and I’ll rearrange your hair. I’ll come to help you dress for dinner, as well.’
It was comforting to be fussed over.
The girl tied a ribbon to hold her plait. ‘Unless there is something else you need for me to do, I’ll work on your wedding dress.’
Her wedding dress. A dress she should not wear.
‘It will be so pretty,’ Nancy went on. ‘I hope you will like it. It will be the best gown I’ve ever made.’
‘I am certain it will be lovely.’
How could she let Marc marry her, if the woman he wanted was Miss Caldwell?
‘Then I’ll go,’ said Nancy brightly. ‘Have a nice rest.’
Tess remained in the chair, gazing out the window that looked down upon the small garden in the back, the storage sheds and the gated wall. There was a bench facing flower beds, a nice place to sit when the weather was warm and dry, like the bench in Berkeley Square.
She rose from the chair and climbed on to the bed, burying her face in the pillow.
Be strong, she told herself.
Refuse to marry him. It was her right to cry off, after all, and his reputation would not suffer overmuch for refusing, not under the circumstances. She would seek employment. She would put her name in with an agency that found positions for governesses and ladies’ companions. There were many such agencies in London, she’d heard.
She rolled on to her back and covered her eyes with her arm.
But what of Genna and Edmund? And Lorene?
A rap on the door made her jump.
‘Who is it?’ Please, not Amelie or Lady Northdon. She could not pretend to be cheerful.
‘It is Marc,’ came the voice from the other side. ‘May I speak with you?’
Marc?
This was too much like the night before, waking to his knock. Her senses flared with the memory.
And plummeted and hardened in resolve.
She climbed out of bed and walked to the door.
Like the night before, she opened it a crack. ‘What is it?’
‘May I come in?’ He smelled of fresh air. He must have come straight from Berkeley Square.
She opened the door wider and he entered the room. She left the door ajar.
His demeanour was altered from the night before. Then he’d looked wild, emotional, sensual. Now he appeared steady and calm.
‘Forgive my appearance,’ she said. ‘I was resting.’
‘I woke you?’ He frowned. ‘I am sorry.’
‘I was not asleep.’ She took a chair. ‘What do you want?’
He sat in an adjacent one and handed her a small wrapped package. ‘I bought you something. A trifle.’
She untied the string and unfolded the paper. ‘Oh. Sweets. How nice.’ Her voice rang flat in her own ears.
‘I walked by Gunter’s Tea Shop and purchased some for you, and for Maman and Amelie.’ He smiled.
‘Gunter’s,’ she repeated woodenly.
‘On Berkeley Square,’ he added.
Berkeley Square. She tried not to flinch.
She set the sweetmeats aside. ‘I shall save them for later.’
He reached into a pocket in his coat. ‘I also have the special licence.’ He pulled out the paper.
‘Oh’ was all she could manage.
‘And I’ve arranged for a clergyman to perform the ceremony here in three days, if that is to your liking.’
‘Three days?’ She rose and faced the window. ‘Are you certain this is what you want?’
‘How many times must I say it, Tess?’ He left his chair and stood behind her. ‘I know this is not the sort of marriage you desired. I know you marry me for your sisters’ and brother’s sakes and for no other reason. I know it is not your choice.’
‘It is not your choice, either,’ she said.
He turned her to face him. ‘You are wrong there. I did have a choice and I chose to offer you marriage.’
She would not look at him.
‘What is it, Tess?’ He shook her gently. ‘Is this about my behaviour last night? I told you, it will not happen again.’
‘It is not about last night.’ The look of him coming to her room, wanting her, was too painful to remember. She raised her gaze to him. ‘I know last night was nothing to you, nothing but drink. Please be honest with me now. Do you still wish you could marry Miss Caldwell?’
His expression turned exasperated. ‘Why ask this of me again? I told you, that was in the past. I do not think of it now.’
‘But you met her at Berkeley Square.’ It still hurt. ‘I saw you.’
A muscle in his cheek twitched. ‘I met her by happenstance and we spoke together a short while. Nothing more.’
Her mother’s excuses to her father rang in her ears. I just happened to encounter him. It was nothing. Or that day her mother’s lover visited her sitting room. He came to call upon you. I offered him some sherry.
Lies.
Was Marc lying to her? She’d been completely foo
led by Mr Welton, after all. And Lord Tinmore lied about giving her a dowry. Even Lorene had kept the truth from her, the truth about getting married to Tinmore.
Their father lied to them so many times, it became a joke among her and her sisters.
Her own mother had lied to her. She said she’d come to their bedroom to say goodnight. She said she would see Tess the next day.
She never came back.
How was Tess to believe Marc?
* * *
Somehow Tess managed to get through the next three days. Marc was especially attentive to her, making time to show her some of the sights of London. They walked through the tombs at Westminster Abbey. Toured the Tower. He even took her to Gunter’s Tea Shop where she again saw the bench upon which he had sat with Miss Caldwell.
* * *
The wedding was set to take place in the afternoon, because the clergyman Marc found to do the ceremony was not available until the afternoon. Because of the special licence, they did not need to be married in the morning, though, so the time was of no consequence. Tess’s preparation for the ceremony started two hours before the scheduled time. As Nancy and Amelie joined her in her bedchamber, it started to rain outside, a heavy, constant rain that reminded Tess of the storm not even a fortnight before, the one that brought her and Marc together.
It seemed fitting that it should rain for this day, as well.
Amelie had begged to help her dress so Tess had to keep up a facade of good cheer for both Amelie and Nancy. Nancy spent at least an hour arranging Tess’s hair in curls tied up with ribbon that matched her dress. Amelie tinted Tess’s cheeks and lips the lightest pink, which was good because otherwise Tess feared she would have no colour in her face at all.
She felt as if this were someone else’s hair being arranged, someone else being dressed like a doll. A part of her was again lost in the storm, wandering one road after another.
Nancy’s hands shook as she helped Tess step into her wedding gown and put her arms through its sleeves. Nancy buttoned the long row of buttons she’d sewn on the back of the dress. Then Amelie turned the mirror on Tess.
‘Do you like it?’ Nancy asked nervously as Tess shook herself back to reality.
In the full-length mirror was the image of a woman dressed in a beautiful ivory-silk gown with embroidery and lace adorning the bodice, sleeves and hem. Tess gasped.
‘It is quite the loveliest gown I have ever worn,’ she answered truthfully. ‘I hardly know myself.’
Amelie clasped her hands together. ‘My brother will love it, I am certain, and Maman will be so very impressed.’
Nancy looked awed. ‘If her ladyship approves, I can ask for no greater compliment.’
‘She will approve, do not worry, Nancy,’ Amelie said.
Tess slipped her feet into shoes that matched the ivory silk and picked up her prayer book, the one piece of her past that could accompany her to her wedding. ‘I suppose we should go.’
Already waiting in the drawing room were the clergyman, Lord and Lady Northdon, and Marc. The only other people who would witness the wedding would be the servants, who were included as members of the household. Tess was glad for Nancy, who had always been much more excited about the wedding than Tess could ever be.
Nancy fussed with the dress one more time, then nodded and smiled. ‘I am ready, miss!’ She laughed. ‘This is the last time I shall call you miss. You will be ma’am from now on!’
She’d be Mrs Marc Glenville and, someday, Lady Northdon. It felt like the end of Tess Summerfield, the end of her connection to home, a fraying of her ties to her family, who were not even present to see her married.
Her past washed away in the rain.
Amelie walked down the stairs first and Nancy trailed behind Tess, attending to the train of the dress. Amelie slipped into the drawing room to alert them that they were ready. Nancy peeked in and gestured to Tess when they all stood in their places. Nancy opened the door and everyone turned.
The furniture had been moved out of the way and Tess’s path to where the clergyman and Marc stood was lined with jardinières of flowers. Lady Northdon’s idea, no doubt, and such a dear gesture that a lump formed in Tess’s throat.
The servants stood along the walls and Lord and Lady Northdon were joined by Amelie near where Marc stood waiting for her. He was dressed in buff-coloured breeches and a black coat and waistcoat. He might have been attending the finest ball, he looked so handsome, but the expression on his face was unreadable and she faltered before making the inevitable walk towards him. His gaze followed her every step. She clutched her prayer book tighter as she took her place next to him. Marc turned to face the clergyman, a kind-faced man with a smiling demeanour that was almost enough to put her at ease.
‘Dearly Beloved,’ he began. ‘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; which is an honourable estate...’
An honourable estate? It wasn’t honour that brought Tess to this moment. It was love. Not the romantic love for which she once yearned, but love of her sisters and brother. Perhaps there was honour in that.
He went on, not in a style as if he were reciting some memorised passage, but as if he were talking to them in conversation, serious at times, smiling at others. All the while, Tess heard the rain in the background.
The clergyman spoke to Marc as if he’d known Marc for years. ‘Wilt thou have this woman to thy wedded wife, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honour and keep her, in sickness and in health and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?’
Marc answered, ‘I will.’
Did he hear the rain, as well?
It was her turn.
‘Wilt thou have this man to thy wedded husband, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou obey him, and serve him, love, honour and keep him, in sickness and in health and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?’
She answered, ‘I will.’
In the distance, thunder rumbled.
The ceremony continued. It was astonishingly personal, and very intimate with just Marc’s parents, sister and servants there, all cocooned by the rain.
At the end, the clergyman smiled. ‘I pronounce that they be man and wife together.’ He finished with the blessing, in like manner, as if he were a friend come to have conversation with them.
And it was over.
* * *
After the ceremony, there was punch and cake for the servants. Marc had known some of them since childhood and their congratulations were heartfelt. His mother seemed in her element, basking in praise for how she’d transformed the room into something special for the occasion. She and his father were on good behaviour for once, but, then, they did not speak to each other overmuch. His father talked mostly to Reverend Cane, and his mother, to Amelie.
He and Tess accepted the good wishes of the household, but said little to each other.
She looked stunningly beautiful. No woman on her wedding day could have looked more beautiful. Her silk gown caught the candlelight, making it shimmer as she moved. Her hair was a luxury of curls that appeared as if they would all tumble down with one tug on the ribbon threaded through them.
Tess smiled and accepted the servants’ congratulations with grace. She thanked his mother and Reverend Cane for making the ceremony special.
How sad, though, that this was not the wedding of her dreams, a wedding to a man she could love. Marc would try to make it up to her. He vowed to do whatever was in his power to make her life pleasant.
‘How are you faring?’ he asked her during a break in the congratulations.
‘Very well,’ she said unconvincingly. ‘I am touched by all the care that was taken by your mother and the servants to make this—this—special.’
‘You have given
my mother a great deal of happiness. And doing this for you brings her much pleasure.’ Marc was grateful, so very grateful to Tess for accepting his mother and befriending her. His mother knew so little of friendship.
‘I should add Nancy,’ Tess said. ‘Nancy made this splendid dress.’
His gaze swept over her. ‘You look magnificent in it.’
Her expression stiffened. ‘That is kind of you to say.’
Any compliment he gave her seemed to have the opposite of what one would expect. Instead of helping her to warm towards him, it made her withdraw even more. At least her distance cooled his ardour, like a cold rain cooled the warm earth.
It was good, though. It helped his head rule his heart. Only by using his head would he avoid any missteps. He was determined to make this marriage pleasant for both of them. He wanted them to regain the camaraderie they had shared when stranded in the cabin.
Eventually the cake and punch were consumed and the servants returned to their duties. Marc, Tess, his parents, the reverend and Amelie sat together in the drawing room until dinner was announced. The wedding breakfast of tradition became a wedding dinner, not unlike dinner every other night of the week, except they had Reverend Cane as a guest and Marc’s father served his best wine. The reverend had a gift of making everyone comfortable and Marc experienced perhaps the most pleasant dinner ever with his family. Tess was polite but reserved, but perhaps no one noticed except him.
* * *
When dinner was over, it was quite like any other night. The men stayed in the dining room for brandy and the women retired to the drawing room for tea. The reverend did not stay long after the men rejoined the women. He bid them all goodnight and wished Marc and Tess a happy life together. Marc walked him out to the hall where he donned his greatcoat and hat and armed himself with his umbrella. Marc’s father had ordered the carriage for the man. When it pulled up to the door, he said goodnight and left.
Marc returned to the drawing room and his father suggested they all retire.
They walked up the stairs together, Marc and Tess leaving his parents and Amelie on the first floor. He followed Tess up to the second floor. Staines was waiting for him as, Marc expected, Nancy would be waiting for Tess. Let the servants ready them for bed. Let them think this would be a typical wedding night.