The Convenient Felstone Marriage

by Jenni Fletcher

  There. She felt a rush of satisfaction. That was true, sort of. They had met through Percy, even if not in the way she implied.

  ‘You’re an orphan, then?’ The old man reached out a hand suddenly, grasping his daughter’s in a surprisingly firm-looking grip. ‘My Violet lost her mother when she was born. That’s why there’s only the two of us. Now she takes care of me.’

  Ianthe smiled politely, feeling a spontaneous rush of sympathy for the other woman. Somehow she doubted that Violet had ever been given a choice about that.

  ‘Very well then, Mrs Felstone.’ Mr Harper gave an approving nod. ‘You may stay for tea. See to it, Violet.’

  * * *

  ‘I know how much my husband values good breeding?’ Robert grabbed Ianthe’s waist, swinging her up and around in a circle the moment they were out of sight of the house. ‘It was all I could do to keep a straight face.’

  ‘Really?’ Ianthe looked surprised. ‘I’d never have known. I wasn’t even sure you were listening.’

  ‘Do you blame me?’ He lowered her back down to the ground, marvelling at how light she felt in his arms. ‘If I hadn’t kept out of it then I might have told him what I really thought of his breeding.’

  ‘So I was respectable enough for you?’

  ‘Above and beyond. You’re full of surprises, Mrs Felstone.’ He let go of her reluctantly, moving away as a man in a strangely familiar brown jacket rounded the corner of the street. ‘Now shall we take a walk down to the shore? I’d like to blow the cobwebs away. That house always makes me think of a graveyard.’

  ‘All right.’ She peeped up at him from under her lashes, her doe eyes alarmingly enticing. ‘As long as you don’t tell Matthew. He’ll be furious if he finds out we’ve been to the beach without him.’

  ‘That boy’s starting to behave like your lapdog.’

  She laughed gleefully as they made their way towards the promenade. ‘He even wants to be walked. He’s always trying to persuade me to hold our lessons outside.’

  ‘And have you?’

  ‘Not yet.’

  He threw a quick glance towards her, trying to keep his tone casual as he tested a theory. ‘I’ve heard that some people are scared of the sea.’

  ‘I’m not.’ Her expression became wary at once.

  ‘Good. Though if there was something that did frighten you, I hope that you’d tell me. I might be able to help.’

  She looked pensive, pursing her lips in that familiar way of hers as they started down the winding path that led to the west beach. ‘I’m not sure I can explain it. It’s not something I understand myself. Sometimes I just...panic.’

  ‘Have you always done so?’

  ‘No.’ She spoke hesitantly, as if choosing her words with care. ‘Something happened a little while ago. Something that upset me. It’s over and done with, but I haven’t wanted to go outside ever since. All the space...it just feels overwhelming.’

  ‘Do you feel overwhelmed now?’

  ‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘Now I feel normal.’

  He clenched his jaw, head whirling with possibilities. ‘The thing that happened...was it on the day after the ball?’

  She was silent long enough to confirm it.

  ‘And was that what convinced you to marry me?’

  ‘Yes.’ Her voice sounded small and unsteady.

  ‘Will you tell me what happened?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Were you hurt?’

  ‘No.’

  He let out a breath of relief. ‘Then will you tell me if there’s anything I can do about it?’

  ‘Yes, but it won’t happen again.’ She glanced towards him nervously. ‘Does it bother you?’

  ‘It bothers me that something happened and that you’re still scared because of it. But I’m glad that you told me.’ They reached the deserted sea wall, and he jumped down, reaching his hands up to help her. ‘Here.’

  ‘I can’t go down there.’ She gestured at her new dress. ‘I’ll get all sandy.’

  ‘We’re done being respectable today, Ianthe.’

  ‘We’re done?’

  ‘Yes.’ He grinned, trying to put her at ease again. ‘There’s only so much a man without breeding can take.’

  She gave him an arch look as she put her hands on his shoulders and jumped.

  ‘There.’ He kept his hands on her waist, holding her tight in the circle of his arms. ‘Now it’s your turn.’

  ‘To do what?’

  ‘To ask me a question. I know that telling me that can’t have been easy for you, Ianthe. It only seems fair that you get to ask me something in return.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘No?’

  ‘We’re having a pleasant afternoon.’ She pulled away from him gently. ‘I don’t want to spoil it.’

  ‘Am I that moody?’ He felt mildly aggrieved. ‘What if I promise that it won’t?’

  ‘No.’ She tilted her chin up stubbornly. ‘I don’t want to pry. Why don’t you just tell me something I don’t know?’

  ‘All right.’ He wandered down towards the water’s edge. ‘Most people want to know about my father.’ He bent down and picked up a stone, turning it over in his hand. ‘You know who he was?’

  ‘Yes, my aunt told me.’

  ‘Ah. I always knew who he was. Even as a boy, I was used to the gossip, but my mother never spoke of him, not once in twenty-one years.’

  ‘Didn’t you ever ask her about him?’

  ‘No. I thought the stories about my father upset her. Whenever she spoke of the past she looked so unhappy. I didn’t want to make her look like that so I never asked.’ He flung his hand back and then quickly forward again, flicking the stone across the water, watching as it bounced five, six, seven times. ‘Then after she died I got a letter from him saying he wanted to meet. I thought that perhaps he cared for me after all, that he’d been watching and waiting all those years, keeping away out of respect for her. I thought that I must have proved myself—that he wanted to acknowledge me.’

  He stooped to pick up another stone and then changed his mind, sitting down on the sand instead. Why was he telling her all this—bringing up the pain of the past as if it would change anything? And yet, oddly enough, it did change things. Even if he didn’t feel better, he felt strangely relieved. After only a few days in her company, he’d told her more than he’d ever told anyone else, as if he’d known her for years.

  He turned in surprise as she sat down beside him.

  ‘What about your dress?’

  ‘It’s just a bit of sand.’

  ‘People will wonder what we’ve been doing.’

  He gave a sly smile, but she ignored the comment. ‘Will you tell me what happened with your father?’

  ‘I thought you weren’t going to ask any questions?’

  ‘I changed my mind.’

  He shook his head ruefully. ‘It’s a common enough story. You can probably guess the rest. He wanted money.’

  ‘Money?’ She gave an audible gasp.

  ‘He was a gambler and he had debts. He thought it might be convenient to have a businessman in the family. He thought that I’d pay just for the honour of calling him my father.’

  ‘Did you?’

  ‘I gave him a choice between me or the money. Guess which he chose.’

  ‘Oh, Robert.’ She let out a soft sigh. ‘I’m so sorry.’

  ‘So am I. A year later he contacted me again, though this time he didn’t bother with the pretence of a reconciliation. I tore his letter up.’

  ‘I don’t blame you.’

  ‘I do. If it had been a business decision then I could have lived with it, but it wasn’t. I made the decision in anger. He died a few months later.’

  ‘I still
don’t blame you.’ She sounded defiant, and he leaned back on his elbows to look at her.

  ‘Are you defending me?’

  ‘Yes. He treated you badly.’

  ‘I ought to be glad of it really. If he’d been clever enough to pretend then he could have had me and the money, but it probably never occurred to him that I might actually want him to care for me. I doubt he was capable of love. He only wanted a business arrangement.’ He winced at the irony. ‘I must get it from somewhere.’

  Ianthe’s voice turned sombre. ‘If you really weren’t capable of love, then you wouldn’t have cared how he felt about you.’

  ‘Defending me again?’ He lifted an eyebrow sardonically. ‘Maybe it was just hurt pride.’

  ‘You loved your mother, didn’t you?’

  ‘I suppose so.’ He swallowed against the sudden lump in his throat. ‘But she wasn’t what you would call a warm-hearted woman. She tried her best, I think, but part of her always resented me for ruining her life. In her mind, if she hadn’t fallen pregnant then she’d never have lost her position, never been separated from my father.’ He clenched his jaw. ‘She loved him, you see. Worthless as he was, she loved him to the end.’

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘Because she told me. When she was dying, she looked up at me and said the words. It was the only time in her life she ever told me she loved me and she thought I was him.’ He twisted towards her, unable to keep the anguish out of his eyes. ‘She wasted her life on a man who forgot her a long time before. I told you, I’ve seen what love does to people. Love is for artists and fools.’

  ‘You might be right.’

  He blinked, surprised by the bitterness in her voice. ‘I thought you were close to your parents?’

  ‘I was, but they were artists. They raised me to believe in love, to expect everyone else to believe in it, too... It’s not like that in the real world.’

  He frowned. It was one thing for him to be cynical. When she said something similar, he felt a strange urge to contradict her. Never mind that the wistful note in her voice made it sound as if she were speaking from experience. Had she had love affairs in the past, then? The very idea made his chest constrict with jealousy.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ She gave him a quizzical look.

  ‘Nothing.’ He stretched himself out in the sand, throwing one arm casually behind his head. ‘It just seems we’ve more in common than we first thought.’

  ‘What are you doing?’ She sounded scandalised.

  ‘Lying down.’

  ‘Well, you shouldn’t. What will people say if they see you?’

  ‘They’ll say they always knew I wasn’t a gentleman.’

  ‘I’m serious!’

  ‘So am I. Lying on a beach in broad daylight next to my own wife. Tsk-tsk. It’s just the kind of reprehensible behaviour they would expect.’

  ‘I don’t understand you.’ She sounded exasperated.

  ‘What don’t you understand?’

  He raised a hand, shielding his eyes from the sun to study her. She was shaking her head reprovingly, though the twinkle in her eyes gave her away.

  ‘I can’t decide if you really care about what people think of you or not.’

  ‘Sometimes I do. Other times I want to tell everyone to mind their own damned business.’

  ‘Then make up your mind.’ She laughed and lay down on the sand beside him, propping her head up on her hand. ‘You can’t be a respectable gentleman and a rebel, so which is it? What do you really want?’

  He moved so fast he hardly knew what he intended to do until he did it. Only the answer to her question was so clearly, blindingly obvious that he wasn’t able to stop himself, seizing her lips with a fervour that took them both by surprise.

  For a moment, he kept completely still, waiting for her to push him away, but she didn’t. Instead, she gave a low murmur, opening her mouth slightly so he could taste the sweet tang of her lips. Slowly, he smoothed a hand over her waist, gathering her towards him as she put a hand on his chest to steady herself. Then there was nothing else, no other sight or sound, just the feeling of her in his arms and the warm, silky smoothness of her mouth against his.

  He didn’t know how long he held her, only that she was the first to break the embrace. She pulled away with a gasp, glancing around nervously as if to make sure no one had seen them.

  ‘Robert...’ she sounded out of breath ‘...our agreement...’

  The agreement. His blood cooled instantly at the reminder. For an intoxicating moment, he’d forgotten all about it—had thought she had, too. Apparently not. But after everything he’d just told her about his past, he didn’t feel up to discussing their arrangement just then. He certainly didn’t know how to explain what had just happened.

  ‘I’d like to swim.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You asked me what I wanted. I want to swim.’

  ‘Now?’

  He looked out to sea, trying to distract himself so that he wasn’t tempted to haul her back into his arms, agreement or not. They felt altogether too empty without her.

  ‘When I was a boy, I swam here all the time. Nobody cared. Then I got older, took on more responsibilities, became Robert Felstone Esquire, and people expected me to behave a certain way. But I still want to swim.’

  She sat up, brushing the sand off her skirts. ‘I’d like to learn one day.’

  He looked at her incredulously. ‘You can’t swim?’

  ‘I’ve never tried.’

  ‘You can’t live by the sea and not swim. It’s dangerous.’

  ‘Why?’ She sounded defensive. ‘It’s not as though I’m going to jump in.’

  ‘That’s not the point. I’m not taking you to the shipyard until you learn.’

  ‘But you promised!’

  ‘I didn’t know you’d be a liability.’

  ‘Then I wish I hadn’t told you.’ She scowled down at him. ‘Are you saying that everyone who works for you can swim?’

  ‘I make certain of it. Safety’s important.’

  ‘Oh.’ She was quiet for a moment. ‘So how would you go about teaching me?’

  ‘You can rent bathing huts further down the beach.’

  ‘It’s autumn!’

  ‘It’s the warmest October I can remember.’

  ‘Won’t people on the promenade be able to see?’

  He shrugged. ‘A horse pulls the hut out into the water, but it’s perfectly respectable, I assure you. Ridiculous, but respectable.’

  ‘All right.’ She sounded circumspect. ‘I’ll let you teach me to swim, but only on one condition.’

  ‘Which is...?’

  ‘You have to recite a poem.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Find one you like and recite it to Matthew.’

  ‘I thought we just agreed that poetry was for fools?’

  ‘No. We agreed that poetry wasn’t real life. It’s not poetry’s fault that people let it down.’

  ‘So you want me to learn a poem because...?’

  ‘Because Matthew looks up to you. If he hears you recite one, he might not be so closed-minded about it.’

  Robert arched an eyebrow. ‘Is that your way of saying you think I’m closed-minded?’

  She didn’t answer. ‘You might enjoy it.’

  ‘So you want another agreement...’ He took a deep breath, already regretting his next words. ‘Shall we shake on this one?’

  He held out a hand and she took it tentatively. ‘You have a deal, Mr Felstone.’

  ‘Good.’ He closed his fingers around hers. ‘We’ll start tomorrow.’

  Chapter Thirteen

  ‘I’m having second thoughts!’ Ianthe shouted through the wall of the bathing hut, trying to
pluck up the courage to open the door.

  ‘You’re not backing out now!’ Robert’s voice outside was muffled.

  She glanced down at her costume, the only one she’d been able to find at short notice, a short belted jacket over a pair of long bloomers, wondering whether so many clothes were strictly necessary. The flannel fabric wasn’t uncomfortable, but for a dip in the sea she felt ridiculously overdressed. Even worse, the bright pink-and-white stripes looked like something Aunt Sophoria might have chosen.

  ‘All right.’ She pulled on the matching mob cap before twisting the door handle. ‘Here I am.’

  ‘You look...’ Robert stood in front of her, hand on his hips, looking suspiciously like a man trying very hard not to laugh. ‘I’m lost for words.’

  She made a face. ‘I think the hat finishes it off, don’t you?’

  ‘It’s my favourite part.’ White teeth flashed in a grin. ‘You should get a few more like that.’

  ‘Be careful or I just might.’

  He laughed and strode out into the sea, beckoning for her to follow. ‘Shall we get started then?’

  Ianthe looked at the water with trepidation. The hut had been pulled out into the shallows so that she was far enough away from the promenade not to feel completely exposed, but now she was there, she was a long way from certain that she actually wanted to learn at all. Robert was dressed in a full-length white flannel costume and the resemblance to male undergarments was distinctly unnerving.

  ‘It looks cold.’

  ‘It is.’ He was already waist-deep in the water. ‘But it’s a warm day, you won’t freeze. Look.’

  He dived under the surface, coming up again after a few moments wearing a broad grin and shaking his head like a dog. Ianthe caught her breath. He looked completely happy and at ease in the water, the waves lapping gently around his body and sculpting his costume to his chest in a way that accentuated every bulging muscle. She’d had no idea that he was so...solid.

  She dropped her eyes, gingerly sticking a toe in the water before retracting it again quickly. It was cold, though the sight of his athletic body made her feel red hot all over. Her imagination was running riot as she imagined what he looked like beneath his costume.