Married To A Marquess

by Joyce Alec

  Married to a Marquess

  Hearts and Ever Afters

  Text Copyright © 2017 by Joyce Alec

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  First printing, 2017

  Publisher

  Love Light Faith, LLC

  400 NW 7th Avenue, Unit 825

  Fort Lauderdale, FL 33311

  www.LoveLightFaith.com

  Tables of Contents

  Married to a Marquess

  Bonus Books

  Regency Dukes – A Collection of Novellas

  Regency Tales of Love

  Married to a Marquess

  Hearts and Ever Afters

  By: Joyce Alec

  Married to a Marquess

  Chapter One

  Miss Alice Henstridge stood silently at the back of the church, feeling woefully unprepared for the step she was about to take. The church was welcomed a dozen guests, she had been told, but Alice was sure she did not know any of them other than her parents.

  Most of them were friends and acquaintances of her husband-to-be, William Bexley, the Marquess of Worthington. The quick wedding had been as much of a surprise to her as it had been to the guests, having been quite unprepared for her mother and father to announce her betrothal in the societal papers before discussing such a thing with her.

  Then again, Alice was well used to doing exactly as her parents requested, going along with whatever notion they thought was best. She had done so her entire life, and when they had told her that she would be marrying William in three short weeks, she had accepted her betrothal with just the correct amount of delight and thankfulness.

  Now, however, she was not so certain that this was the best course of action. ‘Wedding jitters’ her mother had called it, and Alice attempted to believe that this was all it was. After all, did not many couples marry for life without knowing much about the other?

  Alice lifted her chin and hoped that she looked well enough, even though she had heard from one of the many, many guests who had called upon her since her betrothal that her groom to be was less than pleased about the wedding.

  She had simply smiled and brushed off the comments, pretending they did not slam into her heart with a twinge of pain. Even though she had accepted the situation with gratefulness, Alice did not want to marry a man who was disinclined with the very idea of matrimony. That could not be a strong foundation on which to build a marriage, could it?

  So troubled had she been, that Alice had sought out her father on one occasion. Timidly, she had laid out her concerns, trying to ignore the deep frown on her father’s face as she spoke.

  “Why has he agreed to marry me if he does not care for matrimony in the slightest?”

  “Because he wishes to do so,” her father had replied, firmly. “Before his father died, he made a great many stipulations in his will. In short, his father made sure that the man does not receive any of his funds until he is wed. His mother, Lady Worthington, is thrilled about the match because of the dowry you bring and has made it clear to her son what his expectations are. He will be there to wed you, have no doubt. Lord Worthington is looking forward to the union.”

  Alice had not had the strength to reply, to question the decision further. Instead, she had meekly thanked her father for explaining things to her and retired back to her rooms. The thoughts troubled her still, but she had been forced to press them to the back of her mind.

  The truth was that Alice did not feel like she was likely to wed. At seventeen, she had already had two seasons with very little interest from the gentlemen of society, given that she was a little plain and very shy. No amount of cajoling from her mother had brought her attempts at conversation to any sort of fruition. In short, Alice was a quiet little mouse who was pushed to the shadows.

  It had seemed that this marriage was the best solution to her parents’ concerns over her future as well as fulfilling her own dreams. Of course, Alice wanted a husband and family, a home of her own, and to marry the Marquess of Worthington was an honor she simply could not turn down.

  Not that she knew very much of him, of course. There had been once or twice when she spotted the man, finding him loud and certainly attractive, but never once speaking to him. To discover that he was being forced into matrimony in many respects did not sit well with her, but to refuse would bring shame and scandal to her own family as well as on her own head, and Alice simply could not allow that to happen.

  The music began, pulling Alice from her thoughts. It was time. The door opened, and every single head turned towards her. It was overwhelming, and Alice’s stomach immediately began to churn with nerves. She was thankful for the heavy veil that covered her face, sure that she would be pale should anyone have seen her. Taking slow steps forward, she focused on the man at the front of the church waiting for her. It was just as her father had said. He was there, just as her father had promised. Her groom. Her husband to be. Her marquess.

  The problem was, however, that whilst her groom might be present, he was clearly quite disinterested. He gave her only a cursory glance as she approached, turning back to face the clergyman almost at once. In fact, as Alice approached his side, she noticed that he smelled of whisky, and given how he swayed slightly, she realized he must have had a lot to drink.

  Her heart dropped like a stone. This was not what she had anticipated.

  Finally standing next to Lord Worthington, Alice dared a glance up at her groom but discovered, to her consternation, that he was not even looking at her. Instead, he had something of a ribald grin on his face and gave someone just to her left a hearty wink. She heard someone gasp, evidently shocked at his behavior, which made her cheeks burn with both shame and frustration. Her future husband, apparently, was something of a rake.

  A loud buzzing rose in her ears as the clergyman began his service, his bland tones not even catching the slightest bit of her interest. When her father had stated that William was, at least, willing to marry her, she had not thought that he would be so obviously disinterested in her.

  To be making eyes at another woman on his own wedding day was utterly scandalous! Of course, she had been aware that William was known to be something of a flirt, having captured many young ladies’ eyes, but her father had reassured her that this was all simply an act and that he would settle down the moment they were married. As she had always done, Alice had believed her father entirely.

  The clergyman was staring pointedly at her, but Alice felt completely frozen from the inside out. This was not what she had wanted, not what she had been led to believe. She could not marry a man like this, could she?

  A sudden clearing of a throat behind her reminded her that her father, mother, and a great many guests were all waiting for her. To turn and run now would be devastating, not just for her but for her family in general. After what her parents had done in fixing this match for her, despite her lack of beauty, she could not back out now.

  “I do,” she whispered, barely able to get the words out through lips that refused to move.

  A sigh of relief rippled around the church from behind her, as though they had expected her to refuse. Evidently, the guests were more than aware that this was an arranged marriage.

  Her body still completely cold, Alice closed her eyes and heard her groom mutter the same words as she, sighing heavily after he h
ad done so. Hot tears pricked at the corner of her eyes, but she refused to let even a single one fall. She had just tied herself to this man for life, and already he appeared to be regretting it.

  Kneeling when she was told, she heard the clergyman pronounce the blessing before finally announcing to the church that they were now husband and wife. Reaching for her husband’s arm to steady herself as she rose, Alice realized that he was already standing, not giving her even the scantest bit of attention. Her legs trembled as she turned to exit the church, knowing that she should have her hand on her husband’s arm. He walked slightly ahead of her, taking his time so that he would not stagger given how much liquor he had apparently imbibed.

  Her face burned with shame, and she was fully aware that her husband had not yet lifted her veil. Alice walked behind him, grateful that she was not called upon to acknowledge the guests at this time. She would have to make it outside with dignity intact, not letting anyone know just how fragile she felt.

  “Well, good day to you, wife,” her husband said, as they reached the door of the church. “I have given my steward instructions on how to care for you. I do not know when I shall see you next, but I am sure you will be quite content on your own. Good day.”

  And, so saying, he climbed into a waiting carriage and, within seconds, was hurtling down the road away from her.

  Chapter Two

  Alice wrote the date in her beautiful, swirling handwriting before continuing her letter to her mother. All was well at Wren Park, the estate her husband had packed her off to some three years ago. She ignored the stab of pain in her heart, fully aware that today was, in fact, her third wedding anniversary and, as yet, she had still not seen her husband since their fateful wedding day.

  Finishing her letter, Alice scanned it carefully before sealing it and ringing for the butler. It had become her habit to write to her mother on a regular basis, usually once a week, and her mother would be expecting to receive her correspondence.

  There was not usually much to write about, except the state of the gardens or the visits she had been blessed with, but still, Alice always managed to fill a page or so with her news. Never once did they mention Lord Worthington nor his absence, although in the times her parents had visited her home, there was always concern written all over her mother’s face.

  Only once had her mother spoken to her of her regret in allowing Alice’s father to push for the marriage, promising her daughter that she had not had the slightest inkling that the marquess would treat her so. Even her father had grunted that it was not seemly for a husband to leave his wife alone for so long. It had been a balm to Alice’s wounded heart, even if it did not quite cover the shame of being a forgotten wife.

  However, she had finished this letter with a request, which was noticeably different from the other occasions on which she had written to her mother. In it, she requested the use of her parents’ London townhouse, arriving sometime next week. She reminded her mother that Lord Worthington had never given her permission to use his properties in town, meaning that she was trapped at Wren Park unless her mother could spare her the use of the townhouse. She then went on to state that the carriage was already being prepared, so that her mother would not have any temptation to write back and refuse.

  Alice was more than aware that her mother’s gentle heart would not allow Alice to arrive in London, only to find her parents’ townhouse closed up tightly. It was a little cruel to be manipulating her mother’s affections so, but Alice needed to escape the confines of the estate. Three years was more than enough.

  Handing the letter to the butler, a kindly-faced older man who treated her more like a daughter than the lady of the house, she asked for tea to be sent to the library, intending to curl up with a good book. He nodded and smiled before leaving the room.

  Sighing to herself, Alice made her way to the library, thinking that at least her husband had shown her a kindness in depositing her in a beautiful home with a full complement of staff. They had become her companions, in many ways, for often Alice would find herself in the kitchen having tea with the housekeeper and, on occasion, the cook.

  It was unseemly, of course, for a mistress of her standing never fraternized with their staff, but Alice was quite done with convention for the time being. Principles and propriety were what had driven her into her terrible marriage, so she had decided she was done with all the formalities. If her husband was to abandon her entirely, then he had nothing to say about how she spent her free time.

  Not that he cared, however. His actions made that more than apparent. She had not seen him in these long three years, although she had received a note each Christmas wishing her well. She had gone through sadness, despair, anger, and frustration until a plan had slowly begun to form. No longer was she going to be the quiet little mouse that did as she was bid, nor was she going to stand for being left alone to wither away quietly for as many years as her husband chose until he decided to plant a babe in her belly and then, most likely, ride off again. The thought caused her to shiver, knowing that, as his wife, she had very little rights. He could treat her as he wished, and no one, not even her, could say anything against him.

  Of course, Alice realized that the only reason she was in this situation was because of her inability to do or say anything about what she felt or thought. It was true, was it not? She had simply obeyed her father and she was fully expected to obey her husband in much the same way. It was what had been expected of her, or, at least, that was what she had thought.

  In behaving in such a way, Alice had come to realize that she had become something of a doormat — and look where it had got her. She had agreed to marry a man she had never met only for him to treat her with apparent disdain the very moment their marriage was declared. She had lived at his country estate for three years without him, apparently expected to simply accept her fate with gratitude.

  The tea tray at her elbow and her book forgotten, Alice contemplated her future. She had already made a decision that was going to change her future in some way, although she was not quite sure yet as to what would happen. Alice grimaced as she picked up her china cup. She was not about to be stuck here for the next however many years, nor was she going to be the obedient wife that simply waited for her husband to show only the slightest bit of interest. Things were going to change.

  Already, she had visited the seamstress in the small village next to the estate, having access to some funds. Her husband had deigned himself to send her a small amount each and every month – although, having very little to spend her coffers on, Alice had simply saved it, which meant that she was now able to order an almost entirely new wardrobe.

  The seamstress, who had been completely overwhelmed with delight at Alice’s request for new gowns in the latest styles, had been more than willing to oblige, utterly thrilled by Alice’s interest in her work. She had been for numerous fittings, and the gowns were to be with her the following day.

  Frowning, Alice did a quick calculation in regard to how quickly her letter would reach her mother. If she left two days from now, she would arrive in London in four days hence. By then, her mother should have been able to make all the arrangements, provided there was no refusal from her father. Alice did not think there would be, however, for she had seen first-hand how unsettled her father was over Alice’s absent husband.

  Surely, he would agree that his daughter needed a little joy in her life and that returning to London to enjoy the season was entirely proper.

  However, that was not Alice’s true intention.

  Three years had changed her appearance somewhat, but not to the point that she was entirely unrecognizable. However, deep down, Alice was sure that her husband would not have any idea what his wife truly looked like. In fact, she did not think that he would recognize her at all.

  She intended to take on a false name and enjoy the season as she ought to have done when she was still in her father’s house. Back then, she had been a quiet wallflower, barely able to pl
uck up the courage to speak to anyone and knowing full well that she was not the most beautiful of young ladies either.

  However, in three years, Alice had grown a little taller and had taken up gardening, bringing a slight bloom to her normally pale face. In addition, her skin had cleared — the cook promised that it was because of the fresh air — and her hair had both lengthened and brightened in the sunshine, for Alice refused to wear a bonnet whenever she was outside in the gardens.

  However, it was her confidence that shone through, which she hoped would lead to an ability to stand tall and consider herself an equal when she was in the midst of a London ball.

  Smiling softly to herself, Alice wondered what her husband would think when he saw her, but it would not matter. He probably would not recognize her. She hoped that she might shame him into realizing what he had done in leaving his wife alone for three years, although she was not yet sure how to go about it.

  At least she would have her dear friend Madeline, who was now Lady Astor, to assist her in the upcoming weeks. It would be wonderful just to see her dear friend again, having not laid eyes on her since Alice had been sent to the country estate.

  Sighing to herself, Alice refilled her teacup and sat back in her chair, allowing her thoughts to run wild. A mixture of nerves and excitement coiled in her belly, making her look forward to the next stage of her life.

  Chapter Three

  “Madeline!”

  Alice could not keep from weeping. She embraced her friend as soon as Madeline was announced, realizing just how much she had missed Madeline’s company.

  Alice’s parents had allowed her to use their townhouse, and Madeline called as soon as she received Alice’s request for a visit.