Wager for a Wife

by Karen Tuft

  “I don’t know how to answer your question,” she said to Anthony at last. Both brothers were watching her closely. “If he were proven to be a scoundrel, I would end the betrothal. I do not believe I am required to sacrifice myself if such turned out to be the case.

  “The problem is I simply do not know. He claims he will be here for the banns at church tomorrow, and I must believe him until he proves the contrary. He says we will spend next week getting better acquainted. How one can get acquainted with the person one is to marry in a week’s time, I do not know, but marriages have been made on less.”

  “Sadly true,” Alex acknowledged.

  “Which is precisely why you are being sent to play escort to little Lady Lizzie this evening, dear brother,” Anthony said.

  “Sadly true again,” Alex said.

  “You like her; I know you do,” Louisa remarked.

  “And that is sadly true too,” Alex said with a grin. “And I had best be off to get ready. I must look the part if I am to be glared at all evening by the Duke of Marwood.”

  “And I am off to White’s,” Anthony said. “But, Louisa, rest assured that I shall continue to do all in my power to find out anything I can about Lord Farleigh. Don’t worry”—he held up his hand in reassurance when Louisa tried to caution him—“I shall continue to be discreet. But you are running out of days to change your mind, so there is no time to be lost.”

  “I too shall do my best to seek out information on him,” Alex said. “Granted, I doubt I’ll be able to ferret out anything much, considering the company. You had better make the rounds tonight, Tony, and not spend all your time at White’s.” He leaned across the pianoforte and kissed Louisa on the cheek. “Never fear, Weezy dear, you have two gallant heroes at your beck and call should anything be required of us. Now, I must bid you both adieu.”

  “He’s right,” Anthony said. “We will not stand by and have you sacrifice yourself in marriage to someone who is unworthy of you.”

  “Thank you, Anthony, and you too, Alex. I don’t know what I’d do without you both.”

  “Never fear, Lady Cumulus. We are ever in your corner,” Alex said.

  She watched her brothers leave the music room and then stared at the pianoforte, mindlessly poking at the keys and creating a sort of somber melody. Tomorrow, the second banns were to be read, and William said in his letter that he would keep his promise to her and be there. If he did not, she would end the betrothal, vowel or no vowel.

  She wished she understood why it hurt her heart to reach that conclusion.

  Chapter 11

  William asked Walter to have the carriage to London ready to leave at dawn Sunday morning. He intended to be at the church well ahead of the scheduled service when the second banns were to be read. Besides, he was ready to take a break from the estate.

  The past few days had been a trial for everyone at Farleigh Manor.

  After a lengthy conversation between Miss Purnell, Heslop, and himself, William had finally convinced Miss Purnell that there was a place for them at Farleigh Manor and that as head of the family, he could not and would not allow her and her children to fend for themselves, with no income and no other persons to whom they could turn for help. For, regardless of the illegitimacy of her marriage to his father, they were family; Peter and Daisy were William’s blood relatives. There was a modest dower house on a corner of the property, he had explained to her. A very modest dower house that was not much bigger than a cottage, but with room enough to hold her and her children comfortably.

  He and Matthew had actually discussed leasing the dower house as a means of bringing in income, something the former steward should have arranged to be done years ago—but that was no longer an option now. Since Miss Purnell would have been the dowager viscountess had his father not played false with her by marrying her while William’s mother was still alive, it seemed only right that Miss Purnell and Peter and Daisy make it their home.

  She had reluctantly agreed, on the condition that William help her find employment in the village. She was an educated woman and had worked as a governess before marrying his father, she’d reminded him, and would do whatever she must to see to the welfare of her children and not simply rely on the charity of others.

  William had felt a begrudging admiration for her. His own mother had been a lovely and genteel woman of means who had also fallen for his father’s guile. He would allow Miss Purnell the same benefit of the doubt.

  Due to the threat of eviction by her landlord, Miss Purnell had already packed most of their personal belongings before making her first visit to Mr. Heslop on Thursday morning. Her efforts had ended up saving them all a great deal of time and had allowed them to begin their travel early that afternoon.

  William hadn’t pushed her for further details, considering the poor woman had only just learned that the man she’d thought was her husband had died, that she was penniless, and that her children were illegitimate, and William had no desire to add to her grief. Heslop had laid all the legal facts out clearly enough, and as far as William was concerned, it had been sufficient for the time being.

  He had opted to take his horse to Buckinghamshire so she and her children could ride in the carriage alone and would not feel encroached upon by a stranger. The ride had taken longer than usual, with multiple stops for the children to have comfort breaks. During those stops, William had conversed with Miss Purnell while they watched the children stretch their legs and play, and she had confessed to him that while her marriage to his father had started out happily and well, it had deteriorated over time and that, eventually, she hadn’t minded his long periods of absence. In fact, she had preferred them. It had been enough that she’d had her home and her children and had only needed to tolerate him on occasion. Glowing words, indeed.

  They’d arrived at Farleigh Manor late Friday afternoon, where the staff had formally greeted them in the courtyard the minute the carriage had come to a halt at the front doors. William had quickly jumped from his horse and quietly explained to Mrs. Holly and Grimshaw who the occupants of the carriage were before assisting Miss Purnell from the carriage. Peter had scrambled from the carriage on his own.

  William had helped little Daisy down, picking her up and keeping her in his arms. Whatever the reason, Daisy had come to accept William on friendly terms at some point on the journey, and as she was his half sister, he wasn’t inclined to object. Peter would take time to win over, and William understood better than most the reason why.

  Mary had burst from the ranks almost immediately, eyes huge, her arms waving wildly. She’d run straight to William, crying, “You brought a wife! And you brought babies!”

  Miss Purnell had frozen in place, and Peter had looked ready to throw fists at being referred to as a baby, so William—with great care and patience—had explained to Mary that Miss Purnell was not, in fact, his wife but that the three of them were special guests who were to live in the dower house and be welcomed by everyone, and he had left it at that. More explanation would have to occur over the course of several days or even weeks before Mary would comprehend it completely.

  At the mention of the dower house, Mrs. Holly and Matthew had come to full attention. Until William’s comment, the dower house had dropped in priority, the preparation of the manor house for the impending arrival of a Lady Farleigh being the most important consideration. With the arrival of Miss Purnell, work on the manor house had been diverted to the dower house early the following morning.

  In the meantime, Mrs. Holly and Sally had set about cleaning the nursery and airing out a guest room so Miss Purnell and the children would have somewhere to sleep. William had left the trio in the capable hands of Mrs. Brill, who would see that they were well fed, and then he had gone out with Matthew to review the improvements that had been set into action on the estate. Since it had been mere days since William had been at Farleigh Manor, there hadn’t been much to see, but he’d listened and looked and made suggestions.

  He
had also spent time with Miss Purnell—Jane, as she’d asked him to call her—after supper, wanting to assure himself that she felt comfortable at Farleigh Manor. She’d told him that she did and even opened up a bit again, although she’d shared few particulars—but what little she’d said had been enough. It had sent him careening back to a dark time in his childhood, so familiar were her words to ones his mother had spoken so many years earlier. Birchings, sarcasm, punishments for small childhood infractions, like dirty clothes and crying, all reared their ugly heads. Toughen up, boy. You’re an embarrassment. You got your mother’s weak character, you sniveling little pest. But then there were the other times. That’s right, my boy, you’ve got it. You’re like granite; they’ll never win now. Never let them win.

  Jane had been careful in her choice of words, but William knew what his father had been like with his mother. He had ears, after all, and his father hadn’t been particularly discreet during his rants. You’re dull and tedious; it’s no wonder I can barely stand to come home anymore. Stop crying. You’re so weak it’s pathetic. I need a drink.

  William felt a kinship with Jane. He understood her, and he was starting to recognize the wounds that had been inflicted on all of them by his father. It explained his own stoicism, albeit his reticence to show himself to others, really share himself, and not hide behind a facade, had begun to show a few cracks in the past couple weeks.

  Thanks to Louisa.

  And now he was on his way back to London with the hope that Louisa would accept his explanations and answers—lacking though they surely would be—with the generosity of heart he knew was inherent in her character. He could not tell her about Jane and the children, however. It was too scandalous, and their betrothal was too precarious. But he could try to tell her more about himself, as he’d promised. And eventually, when he was more secure in their connection, he would explain the appearance of Jane Purnell to her.

  He settled into the seat of the carriage, placing his feet on the seat opposite and crossing his ankles, then slid his hat down so the brim covered his eyes. It had been an exhausting three days. It had been exhausting trying to read between the lines and discern truths from carefully chosen words and vague expressions. He’d begun to understand why Louisa had reacted as she had at Vauxhall. He owed her a huge apology. And he owed it to her to open himself up to her.

  He tapped his hat firmly in place over his eyes and tried his best to sleep while the carriage bumped along on the road back to London. He needed a fresh head and his wits about him when he was reunited with Louisa this afternoon. He may understand that he needed to share himself more fully with her, but he hadn’t the vaguest idea how to actually go about doing it.

  * * *

  Louisa peered out the window of the carriage as she and her parents and Anthony arrived at the church, right before the noon service was to begin. She saw William standing outside the doors, looking as he always did: tall, handsome, modestly but neatly attired, and completely unreadable.

  Her heart leaped at the sight of him. He was here. Whatever business had taken him from London the past few days, he’d told her he’d be here today for the banns, and he was. She had at least a hundred questions to ask him, but the two most pressing ones were simple and straightforward: Are you going to be forthcoming with me today, and will I be able to tell if you aren’t?

  His current expression didn’t give her a great deal of hope.

  They made it through the church service, however, along with the second reading of the banns. They sat side by side, her parents on one side of her in the pew and Anthony seated next to William on his other side. Louisa clasped her gloved hands in her lap, and William did the same with his. It was all very appropriate, as it should be—especially during church—but it did nothing to allay Louisa’s concerns about the conversation they were to have afterward.

  “Lord Farleigh,” her father said after they had all exited the church and shaken hands with the rector and greeted several acquaintances. “I would ask you to join us at Ashworth House for dinner, if you are agreeable.” Knowing her father as well as she did, Louisa recognized it as a command rather than an invitation.

  “Thank you; I shall,” William replied. “Perhaps Lady Louisa would care to join me in my carriage for the journey there.” He looked at her with his usual impassive face, but his eyes gleamed with awareness. He had not forgotten his promise to her after all.

  Mama glanced from Louisa to William and back to Louisa. “I’m not sure—”

  “I shall be fine, Mama,” Louisa said. “The drive is a short one, and we are betrothed. We won’t scandalize anyone.” She looked at William and raised her eyebrows in defiance. “Will we?”

  The corners of William’s eyes crinkled just the slightest bit at her declaration. “We will maintain the highest level of decorum,” he said. “I have missed my bride-to-be, and we must take every opportunity presented to us to get better acquainted. It is my fault, I know, and I hope to remedy it in the remaining time we have before our marriage.”

  Their marriage! Good heavens, Louisa thought, she’d been so focused on getting him to open up to her and getting through the reading of the banns that she hadn’t even considered an actual wedding date, though she and Mama had made a few essential dowry purchases while William had been absent. William had wanted to marry quickly; they’d be married already, in fact, had she not asked for the three weeks with the banns. He would not want much time to pass before their marriage took place once the final banns were read.

  She could be a married woman within two weeks.

  “Very well, then,” Mama said, shooting William a severely arched eyebrow meant to put fear and trembling into him. “Come, Ashworth, Anthony. I suppose I must eventually learn to trust Lord Farleigh if he is to become my son-in-law.”

  “I will be spending time in my study this afternoon, Farleigh,” Papa said. “I expect you to join me there at some point.”

  “Understood, your lordship,” William said.

  Anthony said nothing at all, which was unusual for him. He’d been that way all morning, come to think of it. Alex had still been in bed when they’d left for church; no one had said anything about it, and Louisa suspected that even if he had spent the early part of the evening with the Marwoods and Lady Elizabeth, he had probably spent the rest of his night visiting gentlemen’s clubs. Anthony had been planning to go to White’s, but Alex had suggested he—how had he phrased it?—“make the rounds.” Had he learned something Louisa needed to know while he’d been out making these so-called rounds?

  William extended his hand to Louisa and assisted her into his carriage. He looked tired. That came as no surprise, considering he’d ridden to Buckinghamshire and back twice in the past week, in addition to whatever he’d done there. She wondered again what his urgent business had been about.

  He gave directions to the driver, then climbed in and seated himself next to her. “For the record, I do not intend to take the quickest route back to Ashworth House,” he said. “I hope that doesn’t distress you. I wished to spend some time alone with you, without your parents or brothers about, so we—I—can communicate more freely, for that is what I promised you earlier this week.”

  “I am not distressed,” Louisa said.

  His eyes did that crinkly thing again for just a moment, and Louisa realized it was the faintest beginnings of a smile. It didn’t extend to the rest of his face or reach his mouth, but—

  She really had to stop looking at his mouth so much, she thought as she felt her face heat up.

  The corners of his mouth twitched.

  “Maybe I am a bit distressed,” she remarked rather lamely.

  His mouth twitched again, but he didn’t say anything to her in return, which was a surprise, considering he’d caught her in the act of staring. Her brothers had teased her so incessantly over the years about absolutely everything that she’d come to expect it as a matter of course. William, however, had not subjected her to any teasing.


  It was a nice change.

  By this time, they’d reached the outskirts of Mayfair, and the carriage took them down a street lined with respectable houses before coming to a stop in front of one of them. “Welcome to Farleigh House,” William said. He jumped out of the carriage and set the steps for her, then gave her his hand. “You wished to learn more about me. I thought I’d begin by showing you this.”

  He led her to the front door and unlocked and opened it and then allowed her to precede him inside.

  Louisa’s immediate reaction was that it was a man’s domain. The wallpaper in the entry was bold, the woods dark in color. The sitting room, which was just to the left of the front entry, was similar in tone. A sofa upholstered in brown-striped silk faced the fireplace, while two leather armchairs sat on either side of it, facing each other. The painting over the marble fireplace was of a hunting scene, with men on horses and dogs in pursuit of a fox. A sideboard held an array of decanters, full of a variety of spirits, with a selection of drinking glasses nearby.

  “This was my father’s domicile; his place of refuge,” William said matter-of-factly. “I didn’t even know the place existed until I went through the estate holdings with Heslop after my father’s death. It was a well-kept secret. I don’t recall my mother ever accompanying my father on a trip to London, though he traveled here frequently. My own first time in London was with school friends when I was at Oxford. We came to Town only a handful of times, usually for academic symposiums and the like—not very exciting, I know. After that, I moved to Edinburgh and remained there. Until now.” He ran his hand along the back of the chair nearest him. “Would you care to see the rest of the floor?”