To Marry a Marquis

by Melinda Hammond

  She gave a little chuckle. 'I did rather take over, did I not? But it was so clear what needed to be done, and I am sure if I had not spoken up you would have done so.'

  'Undoubtedly. Although I would not have been so rash as to promise that boy as much as a shilling for fetching the doctor.' His dark eyes glinted down at her. 'Do you have a shilling?'

  She had the grace to blush and wished she had thought to replace her veil and hide her face from his sharp eyes.

  'Well, no. I thought …'

  He laughed and squeezed her hand as it rested in the crook of his arm.

  'I know exactly what you thought, Miss Beaumarsh, and you are quite right. I do not begrudge a shilling for my friend. Or even, should the boy be very quick, one-and-sixpence!'

  They reached the house and the marquis directed the men to carry their burden up to one of the guest rooms. Rosamund accompanied them, but once Sir James was laid on the bed he dismissed her, along with the litter-bearers.

  'Managing you may be but you are nevertheless a single woman, and I will not allow you to undress Sir James. My man Davis and I will attend to that.'

  'I shall look out for the doctor, then, and bring him up,' she said.

  The doctor arrived a short time later and hurried into the hall, where he divested himself of his hat and cloak in a scattering of frosty snowflakes. He was a sensible looking man, who appeared unruffled by the garbled and highly coloured account he had received of carnage on the high street. Rosamund paid off his little escort, and watched the ragged urchin run off into the snow, hoping he would not have his largesse wrested from him by his older and larger companions.

  'I understand there is only one casualty, ma'am?

  Rosamund turned to the doctor and found herself being regarded with a fatherly eye.

  'Yes, sir. Sir James Ashby. You may know him, since he is a friend of Lord Ullenwood. I understand a horse slipped on the ice and fell upon his leg. I will take up to see him. The horse was unhurt,' she added, then wondered if this sounded too frivolous.

  The guest room showed little signs of its earlier confusion. Sir James, dressed in what she suspected was one of Lord Ullenwood's nightshirts, was lying between crisp white sheets. A fire had been kindled and was blazing merrily in the hearth, the curtains had been pulled across the window and candles burned around the room. Only the marquis was in attendance and as they entered, and Rosamund observed the look of relief upon his face.

  'In good time, sir. I have given Ashby a little laudanum but he has fainted off again.'

  The doctor put down his bag.

  'Then we will waste no time in getting the examination over and done with while he feels no pain. Perhaps, ma'am, you would so good as to find me some bandages.'

  The next few hours proved to be an anxious time. The doctor confirmed that the leg was indeed badly broken, but by the time he was ready to set it, Sir James was semi-conscious again. Rosamund had wanted to remain and help, but the pain of the injury made the patient cry out, and begin to curse his tormentors so eloquently that the marquis insisted she leave. Rosamund went to her room to change her gown then, unable to settle, she went in search of Mrs Tomlinson. She found her in the drawing room, frowning over her tambour frame.

  'Rosamund! Thank heaven. How is Sir James? Mrs Trimble told me what had happened but Elliot had given instructions that I was not to be allowed near the sick-room.' She was very indignant, but ruined the effect by adding thoughtfully, 'which is a very good thing, really, because I am dreadfully sensitive, and faint off at the merest thought of blood or pain.'

  'Then I am very glad you did not come in,' replied Rosamund, 'because there was plenty of both. Poor Sir James's leg is in a very bad way. Doctor Miles is even now trying to set it.'

  'And have they sent you away because it is so horrible?'

  Rosamund's grey eyes twinkled.

  'No, I was banished because Sir James's language is not fit for a lady's ears.'

  Arabella clapped her hands to her mouth and gave a little crow of laughter.

  'Oh, poor man! He is always so much the gentleman that he must indeed be suffering. Oh well, there is nothing we can do for him at the moment so we will have to wait for Elliot to come downstairs. I have told Cook to hold dinner, and Aunt Padiham is going to dine in her room, because late meals do not agree with her constitution. Which suits me very well,' Bella patted the sofa beside her, 'Because I want you to tell me everything.'

  'There is not much to tell,' said Rosamund, sitting down. 'We saw the wagon in Piccadilly with a broken wheel and –'

  Arabella stopped her.

  'Not about that. What happened when you went to see Mr Harkstead?'

  'Oh, Mr Harkstead.'

  'Yes. I am sorry I sent Elliot after you, but I was very worried about you.'

  'It is no matter,' said Rosamund, hoping her face would not betray her. 'Mr Harkstead did not suit me and, and Lord Ullenwood arrived in time to bring me home.'

  'Oh, is that all?' cried Arabella, disappointed.

  'Yes,' affirmed Rosamund. 'Perhaps I should go to Lady Padiham, she may be anxious to know how Sir James goes on.'

  'No, I told you, she is dining in her room and she does not like to be disturbed when she is eating. You shall not go away until I know everything! What did Mr Harkstead say, why did he not suit? Last evening you were so excited about the prospect of working for him.'

  Rosamund realised that her friend would not let the matter rest. She would worry at it, like a dog with a bone until she knew everything. Unless there was an even tastier morsel Rosamund could give her. In desperation she said, 'It does not matter at all now, because I, I have agreed to marry your cousin.'

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Arabella's silence was everything that Rosamund could have hoped for. It lasted for a full minute, then she gave a beaming smile and swept Rosamund into a fierce embrace.

  'Oh Ros, that is wonderful. You and Elliot! I had not dreamed – I had no notion of this. Elliot! But when was it agreed?' She took Rosamund's hands and said eagerly, 'Was there perhaps a long-standing engagement between you? Did your grandfather object to the match?'

  'No, no, nothing like that.'

  'No, of course not, for if that had been the case he would not have left you to Elliot's care.'

  Rosamund began to wonder if she had been wise to speak. She was not sure how much the marquis would want her to divulge of their convenient arrangement. She was thankful to see Lord Ullenwood come in at that moment. Arabella immediately flew across the room to him.

  'Elliot, you sly thing. Ros has just told me the news. How is it that you have said nothing to me?'

  Rosamund sent the marquis a beseeching look. His glance flickered over her but as his impassive countenance did not change she could not be sure he had understood her.

  'Well?' demanded Arabella, clutching his arm and walking with him towards the fire.

  He said calmly, 'With Lord Northby's demise so recent we decided not to make an announcement.'

  Arabella almost stamped her foot in exasperation.

  'I know that, but when was it agreed between you? I thought Ros was determined to remain single.'

  'I - I wanted a little time to make up my mind,' stammered Rosamund.

  'Well, of course,' said the widow, 'I always thought your determination to take paid employment was nonsensical but you were so set on it. Even last night you said – '

  'Bella, I thought you at least would acknowledge that a lady may change her mind,' remarked my lord, looking amused.

  'Yes of course,' she said. 'Oh, I am so pleased for you both.' She clapped her hands and gave a little laugh. 'And what mama and the other aunts will say – '

  'You will tell no-one, Bella, if you please.' ordered the marquis.

  'No, of course not, if you insist.'

  'I do.'

  'But they must know sometime,' she argued. 'And as soon as they have word of it they will all descend upon you, determined to inspect your future bride.
'

  'I know, and I have no intention of subjecting Miss Beaumarsh to that.'

  'So what will you do?'

  'We shall be married by special licence within the week and go abroad immediately after the ceremony.'

  'Pray stop teasing your cousin, my lord,' laughed Rosamund, but as her eyes met his, the laughter died away. 'Y-you are serious?'

  'I am,' he said gently. 'But I think we should discuss it in private, first, do not you?'

  'My dear Ros you are as pale as your lace,' declared Mrs Tomlinson. She added, with rare sensitivity, 'I think perhaps I should leave you to talk. Elliot, you are not to bully her! Dinner is another hour yet, so I shall come back then.'

  Rosamund watched her fly out of the room, leaving behind her a stillness and silence that was unnerving.

  'I think my cousin has rarely shown more tact,' observed Lord Ullenwood.

  'Yes.' Rosamund swallowed. 'How is Sir James?'

  'He is sleeping. The doctor gave him a draught to make him more comfortable. His leg is broken in two places. The doctor has set it, but James cannot be moved, at least for the next few weeks.'

  She gave a sigh of relief.

  'Then there can be no question of your leaving Town, sir.'

  'On the contrary.'

  He walked to the fireplace and rested one arm on the mantelshelf, gazing down into the fire. The flames illuminated his face, highlighting the smooth, strong planes of his cheek. Rosamund waited patiently and at last he continued.

  'James was due to go to France at the end of the week. He was to deliver a message to Lord Whitworth, the Ambassador in Paris.'

  'Surely it can be sent by courier? We are at peace with France now.'

  'A very uneasy peace. It is likely that any letters sent to France will be intercepted. James has been entrusted with a message to be delivered direct to the Ambassador and he has instructions to give it only into Whitworth's hands. It is very important, and highly secret.' He looked at her. 'After the doctor had left us, James explained it all to me. He wants me to go in his stead.'

  'I see.' She bit her lip, considering the matter. 'I do not see that you need to be married to go to France, sir.'

  'True. I have business in Paris that could account for my visit, and that was my initial intention, to go alone. However, now Arabella knows we are to be married, I wager the secret will be out within a se'ennight.'

  'Is, is that so very bad?'

  'My aunts would descend upon the house, intent upon knowing all about you and the circumstances of our arrangement, and I should not be here to support you.'

  'Are they so terrible then?' she asked, smiling a little.

  'Dragons,' he replied cheerfully. He sat down beside her. 'They want only the best for the house of Ullenwood, and while I am sure they will approve of you, I would not want to subject you to the ordeal of meeting them without me beside you. That is why I suggest that we marry immediately and fly to France.'

  'But that would look as if you were afraid of them,' she objected.

  He grinned. 'Everyone knows that is the case.'

  She looked down at her hands, clasped lightly in her lap.

  'And perhaps that you are ashamed of your bride.'

  He reached out and took her fingers in his own.

  'That is not so, and could never be. When you are out of mourning I shall introduce my new marchioness to Society with all the pomp and ceremony that I can muster.' She blushed. He took her chin in one hand and tilted it up until she found herself looking into his eyes. 'Well, will you come with me?'

  'Yes, my lord. Not because I am afraid of facing your aunts, but because if you go alone I shall be afraid for you. Since my grandfather's death you are the only friend I have in the world.'

  The gleam of teasing amusement left his face, and he regarded her with a solemn, unreadable look.

  'That is very humbling,' he said at last. 'I pray I shall not let you down.'

  ***

  'So, is it all decided?'

  Mrs Tomlinson looked from Rosamund to the marquis. They were at last alone in the dining room. The covers had been removed and Johnson had ushered the footmen out of the room in his usual unhurried style. Lord Ullenwood looked around to make sure the door was firmly closed.

  'Yes, Cousin. We are to be married and off to France for a honeymoon.'

  'There will be no time for Rosamund to buy her bride clothes.'

  'I shall be able to buy gowns in Paris,' said Rosamund.

  Arabella's eyes lit up. 'Heavens, yes! Oh, you must bring back a really dashy dress for me. I wish I was coming with you.'

  'I need you here, Arabella,' put in Lord Ullenwood. 'To look after Aunt Padiham. And Sir James.'

  'Oh goodness, I had forgotten all about the poor man!' cried Arabella in mock dismay. 'How can you think of leaving the country when your friend is laid up in your house?'

  'Very easily, if there is the possibility of my aunts descending upon me. James is too sick to require my company for a few weeks. I have sent for his valet to come and attend him, and the doctor will call regularly.'

  'Well then, what am I to do?'

  'You, sweet cousin, will have the run of my house while I am away. I rely upon you to keep Aunt Padiham entertained. I shall leave her in charge here but I doubt she will bestir herself. Ask Henry for any monies you may need.'

  'So I may talk to Cook about the menu.'

  'Yes.'

  'And order flowers for the main rooms?'

  'If you think it necessary, although you will not be entertaining, and there will be very few blooms at this time of the year'

  'I am sure Aunt Padiham will appreciate the effort, my lord,' put in Rosamund sweetly, 'Despite the expense.'

  My lord cast a scorching glance at his betrothed, but she returned his look with a bland smile.

  'Yes, and I must have something to do,' agreed Arabella.

  'If my aunts descend you will have plenty to do,' he retorted acidly.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  It was nearly three weeks since Barbara Lythmore had received a visit from the Marquis of Ullenwood. That was not unusual, for in the six months of their liaison she had found him a careless lover, and if he had not been quite so rich she would have been tempted to look elsewhere. But he was exceptionally generous, so when he did not respond to her latest letter, she decided it was time to go in search of him.

  Lady Plemstall's parties were always glittering, crowded affairs, where one could expect to find the world and his wife on display, but when Mrs Lythmore arrived at Plemstall House she looked in vain for Lord Ullenwood. She was greeted with smiles and bows from several gentlemen as she crossed the crowded ballroom, received merely a frosty nod from one or two fashionable matrons and no acknowledgement at all from the highest sticklers. She paid them no heed and made her way to the card room, where she paused in the doorway to survey the players.

  'I fear, madam, that you are to be disappointed tonight.'

  The rasping voice in her ear made her step away a little from the speaker.

  'Mr Granthorpe.' She looked round at the gentleman with badly powdered red hair standing beside her. 'I have only this moment arrived, sir and I am always interested to see who is present.'

  'There is one man you will not find here this evening.'

  His lip curled into an unpleasant smile but she tried to ignore it

  'Oh? I have no idea who you mean. I came with no expectations to meet anyone this evening.'

  'Did you not? I thought you looked upon a certain gentleman as your personal property.'

  'You talk in riddles, Granthorpe.' She hunched one white shoulder. 'It shows a lack of polish, you know.'

  He flushed, and leaned towards her. 'I may lack polish, but if I was to be married in the morning I would make sure my mistress knew of it beforehand.'

  Startled, she dropped her fan. Mr Granthorpe bent to retrieve it

  'Yes,' he drawled. 'I thought that would catch your interest.'

  'What ar
e you talking about?'

  'Ullenwood is getting hitched tomorrow, at St George's.'

  'That's a lie!' she hissed, her face growing pale beneath her white powder.

  'Is it?' he sneered. 'Then explain to me why his coachman was in the Running Footman last night, telling his cronies that he was driving his master to France tomorrow, immediately after the wedding breakfast?'

  She snatched her fan from his hand and snapped it open.

  'A likely tale,' she said, fanning herself vigorously. 'You have been sold a dummy, sir.'

  'Aye, so I would have thought, if I had not heard it for myself.'

  It was the lady's turn to curl her lip.

  'Ah yes. I had forgotten your predilection for gin-houses. It is a fashion, is it not, for a gentleman to dress like the driver of a common stage coach and mix with the scaff and raff.'

  He shrugged. 'Sometimes it yields useful information, as in this case, but if you do not believe me, go to Hanover Square tomorrow morning and see for yourself.'

  ***

  On her wedding day, Rosamund awoke to a grey, leaden sky and blustery winds that buffeted the carriage as they drove the short distance to Hanover Square. Lord Ullenwood and his secretary had arranged everything for the wedding, leaving Rosamund with little to do, and an odd sense of detachment about the proceedings. The ceremony itself was simple with very few guests, all of them acquaintances of the marquis. She recognised only Mr Mellor, who was acting as Lord Ullenwood's groomsman, Lady Padiham and Mrs Tomlinson. As they left the church, a sudden gust of wind hurled icy rain into the portico and the marquis hurried her down the steps to the waiting carriage. As she climbed inside she heard a soft, female voice calling to Lord Ullenwood.

  From the shadowy interior of the carriage Rosamund watched as a fashionably-dressed lady in a powder blue pelisse trimmed with fur approached the marquis. Guinea-gold curls peeped from the edge of a bonnet whose feathery plumes defied the wind and curled down to provide the perfect frame for an exquisite countenance. She moved forward, smiling, and extended a hand.

  'Elliot, what a pleasant surprise.'