Finagled

  The night was beautiful, the sky particularly navy, with a large white moon to compliment Ramona's glossy blonde curls. The garden smelled beautiful, full of night blooming delights, it was a natural odor that the trio remarked was much more pleasing than the perfumes or oils that many women mixed and dabbed on themselves for these affairs.

  "I think this is doing me well," Tirinia said, as they entered an arched arbor, with a sweet little bench, "I should like to sit a spell."

  Tirinia sat down, waved the other two to continue their walk, just around the arbor, she would join them in a moment. They were hardly out of sight when she stood again and quickly walked back to the house. She waited a moment at the french doors, anticipating the soft cry she expected her niece to expel. When she heard it she lifted her violet skirts and rushed into the house, startling several people...

  "My niece, I heard her cry, I fear she has been injured!" she exclaimed.

  Ramona was in the Duke's strong arms, she felt breathless and confused and incredibly hot. She had stumbled and cried out as the small sharp pin had broken through a layer of fabric and stabbed her in the heel. Grabbing onto the Duke's lapels with urgency, her face surprised by the slight pain, she hardly knew what was happening. She felt the warmth of his body against hers, as she leaned down to inspect her slipper, and drew out the pin. She leaned against him as he led her back to the arbor, where Tirinia no longer sat, the vacated bench accommodated the both of them as she wiped away slight and sudden tears. His closeness became more real as the pain subsided, and then suddenly, he reached for her chin and lifted her lips to his and it made some sort of sense.

  Ramona had never been kissed before, not actually, not on the mouth, only heated and sloppy on the cheek as she turned away with a cry, she had been kissed. She had never been kissed with every aspect of someone’s mouth, their body and their hands. The Duke of Blusterfuss kissed her, with his fingers in her hair, he kissed her, with the pressure of his chest against hers, he kissed her, not to mention his lips, his tongue, his teeth, they kissed her, it seemed so slow and then suddenly like a cold bucket of water thrown over them the voices came. Tirinia exclaiming, "Oh my!" and more people, so many people, perhaps 10 or 100, it seemed like so many. Ramona felt dizzy enough from the sweet pressure of George's lips, but seeing the crowd tittering and exclaiming she could no longer keep her tender hold upon consciousness. She slipped into George's arms, it felt like sinking into a dream, or out of one, yes, none of this was really happening, slipping from one dream to another, a warm feather bed, fat downy pillows, cool against her heated, feverish face. Just a dream.

  She awoke. Her head hurt, she felt first the tight pins holding her coiffure into place. Why ever would she be in bed with her hair so elaborately dressed? She groaned. It was not ladylike, it was the sound of a throat full of tears, and the sobbing began. She was completely ruined. In the arms of someone completely unsuitable, alone, enraptured and completely ruined.

  "Why are you caterwauling?" Tirinia asked, standing beside the bed. The bed, in a strange room, with unfamiliar bedside knick knacks. She couldn't even climb under the covers and refuse to leave, she was still at the party house.

  "Oh God, Tirinia, can you not see?" she sobbed, "I am completely ruined! Unsuitable for anything but widow's weeds and a life spent praying for salvation!"

  "Do you expect the Duke to die so soon after you are wed?" Tirinia asked.

  "Wed? You do not think I was locked in that terrible, dirty, disgusting, ruinous embrace after a marriage proposal, do you?" Ramona choked out.

  "No indeed, but everyone else did, and that is as much the same thing. If that was not what they took away, my dear, you would be ruined."

  "But it was not that, Aunt, God, what must he think of me? I should have resisted, it happened so quickly!"

  "It was he that kissed you, then?" Tirinia asked, "I did think so, but you seemed rather savvy earlier in the evening. You are clearly acting the fool now. Of course he kissed you, a small injured forest animal at his very mercy."

  "Injured, the pin in my foot! How in the world did that get there...?" Ramona's eyes narrowed, "Oh dear lord, Aunt, you did not?"

  "You needed prodding, and he was clearly not going to make the first move without motivation. You both did beautifully."

  "Well... at least I should be able to get home without a scene, if everyone suspects we are engaged, but from there, oh a life spent indoors and never again to dance! It is so painful, and so terribly mean of you, Aunt Tirinia. I thought you wanted to see me wed well, but here now, I see, you want to keep me as a small downtrodden mouse, your companion in your dotage, I suppose, but such a cruel trick to play!"

  "You are being utterly thick, Ramona, did you not hear me, do your ears need checked, a cleaning perhaps?" She took Ramona firmly by the head and shook her about a bit. "You are going to get married, silly goose, well above your expectations and to a man who is clearly very fond of you."

  "I don’t know what you are trying to say, Aunt, it all sounds rather stupid to me. I have not ruined his reputation at all. There was no betrothal and I am not going to claim one. That would be manipulative and horrible of me."

  "But he, he is an honorable man, my dear, he will not let you go to ruin, I believe he is a great man, that is why I chose him for you."

  "Chose him? How could you do this to me, and to him? He is an honorable man, like you have said, but even if he did propose now, I would reveal all to him, I would not make him take me simply for my own reputation when there is no feeling behind it. I was always looking for a lover, Aunt, as well as a husband."

  "What was he doing to you on that bench, if not making love?" Tirinia inquired.

  "More manipulation, on your part! Some men cannot keep their baser needs in check when a girl appears as wanton as I did! Oh what he must think of me! A hussy, a courtesan, such a slattern!" she wept.

  "You have very much to learn, Ramona." Tirinia scoffed, "Especially about men like the Duke of Blusterfuss. And in time, as his wife, you shall."

  "You don't let up!" Ramona moaned, "just, oh, let us leave this place, I shall never dance or wear pretty things again, for I am ruined!"

  Chapter Four

  She languished in bed for days.

  Her mother was so delighted, a Duke for a son in- law, it hardly seemed possible, and yet, while Ramona languished in bed, the betrothal was officially announced, the Duke came and spoke to Lord and Lady Havishamble several times, and while it seemed strange that he never asked to see Ramona, they were too delighted to care.

  Ramona had no idea. She began making doilies and asked her mother if she might keep a kitten for company. How could the girl be so simple? She was about to make a pact that would give her more company than she had ever had in her life, a robust husband and the babies that were sure to follow, and here she was, acting like she was recently widowed.

  Their conversations were confusing to both parties. Ramona ignored any mention of her upcoming wedded bliss, and her family seemed not to hear her late night crying or sudden exclamations of "ruined!"

  When the Duke of Blusterfuss finally asked to see the young girl, she exclaimed, "How can I? Oh no, ruinous, ruinous!" and hid under her bedcovers.

  "She’s feeling suddenly shy," Lady Havishamble explained. "It is going to be such a change for her, and she is so innocent."

  George Flanders bit his tongue. Innocent indeed, the manipulative little pixie! She had made this happen and was now too afraid to face up to it. He would marry her, he would attempt to make her comfortable, but he had no intention of living as man and wife in anything but name. She had been such a charming girl, too charming, he had not even realized he was being played.

  And now, having to make plans for a wedding, something he had vowed never to do. Such a manipulative little pixie! At least she would be pleasant to look at over the dinner table.

  He grumbled.

  He saw no point in delaying his time in town for this situation, and said
, through his teeth, that he was anxious to get his young bride home to his estate, Loathewood, in Y___. He was slightly surprised by the rather agreeable dowry the girl brought. He had expected this to be an act of poverty on her and her family's part, but it seemed they were quite comfortably living within their means, and those means accounted for a nice wedding trousseau and an amount of spending money for Ramona to receive monthly. In the very least he would not have to worry too much about her ruining him financially, unless she found the sum too little to support her baubles and gowns. He was willing to supplement it somewhat. He had no intention of torturing the girl, though his immediate reaction to her tricking him into this situation was to let her rot with her reputation. Something bred deep inside of him would not let him do it. He felt a little angry with himself. He undoubtedly had been more encouraging to this young woman than the many who had tried to finagle him into marriage previously. But she had seemed so disinterested. He was even more angry with himself for giving in to her pretty display of tears and kissing her as he had, indeed, as he had thought of doing several times before that night, when he had thanked the heavens that Tirinia was always there, watching like a hawk, like a good chaperone, indeed!

  The pin in her shoe, surely a device! The way she leaned into him, a seduction! How had he misjudged her so?

  He continued to grumble.

  The marriage was set to take place, and the bride had shown little interest until a dressmaker was brought.

  "You can't be serious!" she exclaimed, looking at her mother.

  "You can't be married in anything you already own, my dear, do be practical."

  "I can't be married at all, I'm ruined!"

  Deftly her mother avoided this strange insistence Ramona had determined to take. Ruined indeed!

  "If I am to be married, where is the bridegroom. I would speak to him."

  "He has called for you once a week these past three weeks!" her mother exclaimed, "you would not see him!"

  "Clearly I was delirious." Ramona said, in a small voice, "I have felt feverish,"

  "You would not have me call for the doctor, though I suspected something was amiss, you probably need to be bled, oh I am derelict in my duties as a mother!"

  "Oh pish posh." Ramona said, laying a comforting hand upon her mother's shoulder, "you only did what I asked you to do. Now send for... for the groom. This has gone on long enough."

  "Thank goodness!" Lady Havishamble said, misinterpreting Ramona completely.

  Ramona sat silently, seeing her surroundings for the first time in weeks through eyes puffy from tears, the veil of which had finally been lifted.

  The tiniest part of her thrilled. The Duke of Blusterfuss was an honorable man, surely he saw how unsuitable she was, but he did not wish to see her ruined. She wondered if he thought her duplicitous and felt a pang. He must, how could he guess that it was Tirinia and not herself who had arranged this situation, this terrible situation. He would not be taking this plunge but for her honor, so he must have something of respect for her left in him. But oh! How she would have liked the idea... it was silly, the very idea that he might marry her on her own merits, for some feeling beating within his chest, and not this, finagled into it by an interfering old woman. Could he ever trust Ramona?

  Finally owning up to her actions! George received the card with a surge of emotion. He had been prepared to speak to her three weeks prior, the delay had muddled his thoughts. Where he had immediately been angered, he was now unsure. Why would she deny him entrance if she were fully responsible for her actions? He would remain guarded.

  Announced and standing before her. Ramona looked a wreck. Her hair was tightly knotted, not with care, with haste, her dress simple and somewhat rumpled, her eyes red rimmed and her nose raw. Had she been crying over him or herself,? He could not know.

  George looked calm. No hair out of place, just as dark and incredible as she remembered him. He was not losing sleep or wasting thoughts on her account. What was she to him? An embarrassment, an unsuitable little ninny of a bride, who finagled her way into his arms, oh the agony!

  Her voice was tiny when she finally spoke, "I think there has been a misunderstanding," she said, "Please, feel no need to sully your good name with mine, it was a mistake, I am so sorry."

  This was not what he expected, "It is too late for that. I have ordered the plate for goodness sake," he said, searching her little face for some sign of current feeling, not the scars of feelings past.

  "Why are you making excuses? I am letting you go," she whispered.

  "I..." why was he making excuses? "You would not recover from the scandal," he said.

  "It does not matter. There is no need for both of us to be in this unhappy situation. If I could lessen your discomfort, I would do so."

  He found himself on his knees at her side, "It was not your mistake that I kissed you, that was my own,"

  "It was a mistake, though, and one with consequences, furthermore, I most definitely made the mistake of reciprocating it."

  "Bah!" he said, "Did you... reciprocate out of feeling?" he inquired.

  "Feeling, oh so much feeling, I have done nothing but feel for weeks, and I am sick of it." she replied.

  "Did you finagle me out of love, or greed, or pride?" his voice, suddenly stern, "and how do you do it now, for I feel it, finagled grievously."

  "I did not, if I'm doing it now, well, it is some selfishness, some small part of me that would like to spend her life with you, by your side, but it is not a conscious finagling on my part. I would that none of this had ever happened."

  "Then how? Surely it was not an accident, your falling into my arms like that?"

  "On my part, it was, very much so. I fear... in fact, I know it was my Aunt Tirinia Shoobukkle who has done this to us. She had some misguided idea... it is all very nonsensical, but it has worked to an extent in the way that she intended. She has spent many hours trying to convince me that this was right, but I can't believe that a plot of deception is the place to grow a fertile marriage. If I could have won your heart by my own talents... perhaps I would then deserve it, but like this? I feel false, small and horrible. It was never my intent to inconvenience you."

  "Inconvenience me?" he looked at her earnest little face. "Gads, woman..."

  "I can hardly stand for you to look at me, just go, leave me here and we will never speak again. It would be so easy for you. You need not think of my turmoil. I am sure I can find some happiness, perhaps as companion to my aunt."

  "Easy for me? You have no idea what this has been for me, little girl, easy it would not be."

  She looked up in surprise, "Well... I cannot make this decision for you."

  "Could you be happy with me?" he asked, slowly, quietly.

  "I imagine so, as happy at least as with my aunt, but then, probably happier." she replied.

  "No. You do not understand what I would be asking of you..."

  "If it is my reaction to marital congress that worries you, you need not fear, my aunt has detailed to me of the pains and pleasures it will lead to, and I am prepared."

  "Marital congress, you little minx! That’s just the thing..." he furrowed his dark brow.

  "So you were worried about my maidenhead, please, concern yourself no further... But other things... my name is sure to be a blot on your family tree, and any children I could give you, would they be worthy of your exalted name?"

  "Children. Yes, I imagine they would, but... we cannot. I should tell you from the first, I have no intention of keeping you as a wife ought to be kept."

  "I have no idea what you're saying, Duke, but the look of agony upon your face hurts my heart."

  "As it should, to consign a lovely young bride as yourself to my musty old estate and leave her there without the pleasures of motherhood to keep her occupied." He shook his head.

  "Does your seed not sprout?" she asked, putting her hand upon his, "Well surely you have never tried within the sanctity of marriage! We may overcome this ob
stacle yet."

  "No, no, my seed is undoubtedly fine..."

  "Then it is my station, you abhor the thought of breeding with me!" she cried out.

  "No! I just... I made a promise, once. I shall have no children, bring none into this terrible world."

  Ramona felt an ache in her stomach, her heart, and a shortness of breath. Just what was he asking her to forsake? To have a husband, but no family, or to lose her reputation, to have no husband, no family but that from which she had come... who she would have in either case.

  Both choices sounded sad and lonely to her, unfair, she had done nothing to deserve it. And yet, as the wife of the Duke of Blusterfuss, perhaps she could find other pleasures, the duties that would fall to her as mistress of a large estate, she would likely find that she had no time to even think of the lack of children. Was the Duke of Blusterfuss the lesser of two evils, or finagled as they both were, was it a greater sin to give in to this finaglement?