The Thoroughly Compromised Bride

by Catherine Reynolds

  However, far from boring or disgusting him—and he could not imagine her ever doing so—Elizabeth attracted him in every way. In truth, she suited him very well. She was well-born and undoubtedly virtuous; a complete lady, in fact. She was also intelligent, witty and had a marvellous sense of humour. And if that weren’t enough, she was an utter delight to look upon.

  Having got so far in his deliberations, he then admitted that perhaps his sister was not so very wrong. Perhaps it was time that he married and set up his nursery. He was, after all, the last living male of his line. It might not be a bad thing to produce an heir to carry on the family name.

  Yes, he thought, as he climbed into bed, for several days past he had been toying with the notion of offering for Elizabeth. His only problem had been in deciding how to overcome her peculiar resistance to the married state, and Margaret had provided the means of doing so. He did not expect too much opposition from Elizabeth, in spite of her behaviour this evening. And as for her fear of the physical aspects of marriage, it was doubtlessly no more than any innocent female might be expected to feel. It needed only patience and sensitivity on his part to allay it.

  He smiled contentedly as his eyes drifted closed. His son, he mused, and the thought gave him unexpected pleasure. His and Elizabeth’s son...

  That thought gave him even more pleasure.

  CHAPTER NINE

  It was long before Elizabeth was able to fall asleep that night, so many thoughts and questions were swirling through her brain.

  How could she have allowed herself to fall in love with Charles and not have been aware of it? Now, of course, it was glaringly clear to her that there had been any number of clues which should have warned her. She supposed that deep down in her innermost self she had known, but to have admitted it to herself would have meant having to stop seeing him, and that she had been unwilling to do. And so she had deceived herself, never foreseeing where it might land her.

  She ought to have seen through the machinations of those two conniving women—and had she had the wits of a two-year-old, she would have. Charles obviously had. And what, in the name of all that was holy, was he about? Since he had made no secret of his distaste for marriage, it was inconceivable that he should wish for it now. She unhesitatingly declined to believe that he could have fallen in love with her. No, it was as he had said: his concern for Melanie had prompted him to take part in this charade, and his notion of proper conduct now prompted him to offer for her.

  She thought of his reaction when she had rejected his offer and wondered at it. She would have thought that he would leap at the opportunity to be let off the hook, but perhaps it was simply that the alternative she had suggested did not satisfy his sense of propriety. She still believed that to say she had spent the night with a friend would answer quite nicely, but if it did not suit him, she must come up with something better. But what?

  After considerable reflection, she still had not found an answer and finally, exhausted, she gave up the attempt. Something was bound to occur to her tomorrow when she was more rested. Of course, if Charles persisted in his unnecessary notion of gallantry, she would be obliged to tell him the truth about herself. That truth, however, would only be used as a last resort. She did not think that she could bear it to have Charles consider her what he had called “another man’s leavings.”

  On that unhappy thought, she finally fell into a restless sleep and did not awaken until ten o’clock the following morning when the landlady came into her room bearing hot water to wash with and coals for the fire.

  A good-natured, amply endowed woman, neatly dressed and with a crisp, white cap tied under her chin, the innkeeper’s wife kept up a running commentary as she busied herself about the room.

  “Happen we have another lady and gentleman staying with us, or I would have sent you our Alice— she being our maid, you see. But I bethought myself that you, miss, and your gentleman brother, being quality, like, it was more fitting that I should be waiting upon you myself—and happy I am to be doing it! Not but what they don’t be quality themselves, but there be quality and there be quality, I always say,” said she, as she pulled back the curtains. “Lor’ bless us, miss, just look at that! You’ll not be going anywhere today. It’s still snowing something fierce out there.”

  It needed only a glance to convince Elizabeth that this was nothing less than the truth, and she was sunk with dismay, but the landlady’s cheerful monologue continued without pause.

  “There’s been nothing like it since I can’t remember when. Happen it’s been years since there’s been such a snowfall, and all the roads closed with nothing able to get through. I shouldn’t wonder if you was to be stuck here for a sennight. But there now, miss. I make no doubt you’ll be wanting to make yourself all pretty-like, and best you do it while the water is nice and hot. You’ll be wishful of having your breakfast, too, I make no doubt, which it’ll be ready in a trice, and if you was wishful of anything else, miss, you have only to tell me.”

  She had whisked up Elizabeth’s gown as she spoke and now bore it to the door with her. “I’ll just be taking this downstairs to press, miss, and it’ll be right as a trivet in no time at all, and back up to you before you know it.”

  When the door had closed behind her, Elizabeth continued to lie there for a few minutes. The protracted snowfall presented a definite problem. The longer they were kept here, the less likely it was that Charles would agree to any solution to their dilemma other than marriage. He must, however, and she must think of something that would make him see reason. But the only ideas that came to her were so idiotic that even she could not accept them.

  Well, it made no sense for her to delay like this, she thought, and she forced herself out of bed and hurriedly performed her chilly ablutions. By the time she was ready for it, the landlady had sent her freshly pressed gown up to her, and she was soon satisfied that she made a presentable appearance.

  When she entered the parlour, Charles was there before her, standing by the window, looking out. When she shut the door, he turned, smiling, and said, “Good morning,” and with a gesture towards the window, added, “Have you had a chance to notice the weather? It looks as though we are likely to be tied here for some considerable time.”

  “Good morning,” she answered, coming to stand beside him. “Yes, I saw it from my chamber as soon as I awoke.”

  The wind had died down, but the snow was still descending heavily, and for several minutes they stood watching it. She was afraid that he would reopen their discussion on matrimony and the evils of their situation, but he did not, and silence prevailed until their breakfast arrived.

  While the landlady was in the room, conversation between them was impossible as she was no sooner through the door than she was embarked on one of her lengthy speeches. And when they were once more alone, and Charles merely remarked that he was famished, seated her and began filling their plates, she began to hope that he had no intention of reviving their disagreement.

  She relaxed as the meal progressed and still he did not bring up the subject, engaging her instead in light-hearted banter, and discussing various means by which they might stave off boredom and make the time pass more quickly.

  “We might try our hands at building a snow creature later on, if this lets up,” he told her, grinning. “I used to be quite adept at it.”

  “Oh, Charles, yes! It sounds like great fun!”

  He laughed softly at her enthusiasm, then said ruefully, “Yes, well, I should imagine we shall both be pining for something to do before many hours have passed.”

  But it was not until the following afternoon that the snowfall lightened enough for them to venture out into it, and, surprisingly, time did not hang heavily over them for the remainder of that day. As always, they found a great deal to talk about, and had long, fascinating discussions on every subject imaginable, from the profound to the ridiculous.

  The only worrisome thing for Elizabeth was the fact that not once did Charles rai
se the subject of their predicament. While she could not help but wonder at this, feeling that it was unnatural and only a temporary reprieve, still she was grateful. She continued to find herself at a standstill so far as a solution to their problem was concerned, and she had no wish to get into a skirmish with him over the matter.

  They were again saved from boredom the next morning by the landlady, who had unearthed an old pack of playing cards and two books. The cards they agreed to save for a later time, and passed the morning hours reading, but by afternoon they had both had their fill of the small parlour and were more than ready to brave the snow and the cold.

  Elizabeth had not had so much fun in years and threw herself into their venture with the abandon of the very young. They built their snowman and laughingly pelted one another with snowballs, behaving like children until the cold finally drove them back inside.

  It was as they were playfully brushing snow from each other, just after entering the inn, that they first encountered their fellow guests, a Mr. and Mrs. Parker. The couple introduced themselves and Mrs. Parker remarked, “You are brother and sister? Oh, yes, I believe the innkeeper’s wife did mention that fact.” She looked from one to the other and Elizabeth stiffened slightly at the knowing look in her eyes as she continued, “How very odd. You do not at all resemble each other.”

  Charles smiled easily as he replied, “People frequently remark upon it, don’t they, sister? But the fact is that we each take after different sides of the family.”

  “Really! How very interesting,” said Mrs. Parker, and without pause, went on to say, “We were also told that you arrived in a curricle. Surely you could not have travelled far, in so open a vehicle, in this dreadful weather. Do you live nearby?”

  “Not far,” said Elizabeth shortly, disliking the woman and her vulgar inquisitiveness intensely.

  “Oh...well! We were on our way to Bath when we were delayed by this wretched snow. Do you know Bath?”

  “Slightly,” said Charles. “And now, Mrs. Parker, I don’t mean to be rude, but my sister and I must change out of these damp clothes before we catch our deaths.”

  Elizabeth could feel the woman’s avid gaze on their backs all the way up the stairs. Mr. Parker had said not a word during the entire exchange, and she could only wish that his wife had been as taciturn. She fully expected Charles to say something now, but he said nothing other than to recommend that she change into dry clothing as quickly as possible, before he went on to his own chamber.

  Perversely, rather than feeling relieved, she felt quite irritable. She was on tenterhooks, as though waiting for a second shoe to fall, and she began to wish that he would say what he had to say and have done with it. But, again, he did not, and finally when the evening meal had been cleared, she could bear it no longer. She burst out with, “Well? Why are you not badgering me?”

  His eyes opened wide, but his lips twitched slightly before asking, “Why ever should I wish to badger you, my sweet?”

  “Oh!” she cried. “You know very well why. I should have thought that you would have been nagging me, long before this, upon the necessity for us to marry!”

  “I never nag,” he informed her calmly, but with a touch of humour in his eyes. “And I have not mentioned it for the simple reason that I thought the matter already settled. We shall be married, you know. And I wish you would sit down.”

  He was seated comfortably in one of the fireside chairs, and she had jumped up to pace before him, but now she stopped to confront him. He had spoken with such irritatingly complete assurance that the level of her ire shot up by several degrees. However, as she observed his expression, she realized that in spite of his gentle smile, there was a rather implacable look in his eyes, and she thought better of giving free rein to her temper. Perhaps it would be wiser to remain unruffled and attempt to reason with him.

  To give herself time to regain her composure, she stepped to the opposite chair, sat down and arranged her skirts carefully, then leaned towards him confidingly. Keeping her voice as quietly reasonable as possible, she said, “Charles, we are both agreed, I believe, that it is a most unfortunate situation we find ourselves in. I realize that there is no way in which we can prevent some scandal, for even if we were to marry there would be bound to be some malicious gossip about us. Society is made up of too many vicious people like Mrs. Parker. But what you must understand is that I care nothing for that. Oh! Not that I wouldn’t prefer to do without it, of course, but— Well, what I mean to say is, if I were a younger woman, Melanie’s age or even a little older, and desirous of finding a husband... but I am not. Or even if I were the type of person to whom Society and acceptance into the ton meant all, it would change the entire face of the thing. But I lead a very quiet life. I don’t need balls and routs and all such vapid entertainments to keep me happy. So, you see, you are not obligated to marry me in order to save me from ruination.’’

  He had listened to her without trying to interrupt, and with a promisingly interested expression on his face, but now he simply studied her own face, his expression a little puzzled. When he spoke, he surprised her by not referring directly to anything she had said, but by asking, “What is it that has you so adamantly against marriage?”

  She was so taken aback by this question that it was a moment before she could answer.’ ‘Well... as I told you once before, I like my life very well as it is, and it would be no easy thing to change it all about at my age, and—”

  “I wish you would stop harping on your age as if you were at your last prayers!” he interrupted.

  She shook her head dismissively. “And, even more important, I like my freedom and independence far too much to marry and be obliged to give them up. Are you aware that marriage deprives a female of what few rights she has? Her money, her property, even her person and the very clothes on her back become her husband’s to do with as he sees fit. I think it is an excessively high price to pay for having fallen in love.” Her colour rose slightly before she added quickly, “And an even worse punishment if one is not in love.”

  Even in the midst of his astonishment, he felt a surge of hope and exaltation at her remark about falling in love. And he was encouraged to learn that it was not physical intimacy which she feared, but he put these things aside for later consideration. He, too, leaned forward, and said patiently, “No, I had never thought of that aspect of marriage. But, my dear, I am not an ogre, nor am I a particularly greedy man. I have no wish to deprive you of anything that is yours, and I promise you that as your husband, I shall do nothing which might concern you without your prior knowledge and complete agreement. If you like, I will put it in writing.”

  “Oh, that is not necessary. I trust you, but...”

  “But?”

  Her eyes slid away from his. He had completely disarmed her. Now was the time to tell him her true reason for refusing to marry, but she was so afraid that he would not understand, that he would look at her with contempt and loathing. And, confined as they were in this small inn, she would not be able to escape the awful unpleasantness which was sure to follow her revelation. She could not forget the look on his face when he had spoken of Melanie’s possible ruination.

  Misunderstanding her silence, he said, “Forgive me! I have not answered the other objections you have raised. In the first place, my dear, you say that you care nothing for the gossip which is certain to arise, but I don’t believe that you have thought this through. Would it really leave you unmoved to be cut even by Bath Society, provincial though it may be? Oh, doubtless your friend Mrs. Gilbert would not wish to cut you, but she has a daughter of marriageable age whom she must establish. She cannot afford to be on friendly terms with someone of questionable reputation.

  “Secondly, though you may not need balls, routs and vapid entertainments to keep you happy, surely a life devoid of not only those things, but of friends and acquaintances, with no one to talk with but your aunt Emily, cannot be regarded as happy. It would be a very lonely existence, Elizabeth.�
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  At his words, she suddenly saw a lifetime of being shunned stretching out before her, with no one’s companionship but Aunt Emily’s. Dear, kind, maddening Aunt Emily, who neither understood her, nor shared her interests or her sense of humour. And, dear God! how could she have been so selfish as to forget Aunt Emily and what all this would mean to her? Her aunt would be even less able than she to bear the humiliation of being cut by their former friends and acquaintances.

  The eyes she turned to Charles had such a dazed look in them that he was moved to exclaim, “Sweetheart! Don’t look so tragic! You cannot deny that we find a great deal of pleasure in each other’s company. And I promise you that I shall make you an exemplary husband. I want nothing so much as to make you happy.”

  To her honor, tears welled up in her eyes and began to spill down her cheeks. Trying with little success to wipe them away, she choked as she exclaimed, “Oh! I hate women who are forever weeping!”

  And as the tears continued to flow at an even more alarming rate, she cast him one anguished look, jumped up, and ran from the room, leaving Charles to stare after her in stunned perplexity.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Elizabeth spent another nearly sleepless night, and though she was up quite early the following morning, she could not bring herself to leave her room before the noon hour. She was overcome with mortification each time she recalled her mawkish behaviour of the previous evening. She had been exactly like the sort of hysterical female she most detested! What must Charles have thought of her?

  And when she was not remembering the embarrassing exhibition with which she had regaled him, she was sick with dread at the thought of having to tell Charles that she was not the innocent he thought her to be. The telling could not be put off much longer, for the snow had stopped sometime during the night, and it was entirely within the realm of possibility that they would be able to leave for Bath that very afternoon.