To Marry a Marquis

by Melinda Hammond

  'Everywhere else it's barrels or sails and rigging that me lads need to work with, and there'll be no by-your-leave if you gets in the way.'

  John sat down on a nearby barrel and took out his pipe.

  'Methinks we'd be best to stay put then.'

  The others made themselves comfortable on the deck, wrapped in their thick travelling cloaks. Around them the crew was busy loading the remaining cargo and making preparations to put to sea again.

  'Goodness!' Rosamund looked around, wide-eyed. 'Can all this be contraband?'

  The marquis came to sit beside her.

  'Undoubtedly. I suspect our fine captain is a free trader.'

  'How exciting.'

  He laughed. 'You should be shocked, madam.'

  'It is impossible for me to condemn someone who is helping us. Besides, one is always reading the newspaper reports that most of the tea and brandy we drink in England has never paid duty.' She watched, fascinated, as the signals were given to put to sea. She looked back, watching the tiny pinpoints of light from the harbour lanterns growing smaller. As they left the shelter of the inlet the wind grew stronger and the marquis suggested they should sit down on the deck so that the barrels would provide some shelter.

  Remembering their outward journey, Rosamund was concerned that Meggie might succumb to sea sickness again, but her maid was quick to reassure her.

  'Why, miss, I'm right as my glove sitting here on the deck! It is very different being up here in the air, you see, than being in a closed cabin.'

  Davis too seemed to be surviving the voyage, sitting next to John Wilson and showing no signs of his previous sickness.

  The little vessel settled into a steady motion and when there was light enough to see, the only view in any direction was the grey water and a clear sky. The captain came over to them, rolling with the ship as he walked.

  'Is all well with you and yours, Mr Malvern sir? ' He accepted a pinch of snuff from the marquis and sat down beside him, ready to repay this sign of comradeship with conversation.

  Rosamund was fascinated and by gentle questioning she persuaded the man to tell her something of his trade. The marquis, amused, sat back and was happy to become an observer.

  'Well, we've a mixed cargo on board tonight, ma'am. Half-ankers of Cousin Jack – that's barrels of brandy to you, ma'am, and silks and spices safe below-deck.'

  'And what would happen if you were caught?' asked Rosamund.

  The Captain grinned.

  'Why, bless you, ma'am, they give us plenty o' warning. There's no cutter could creep up on a man out here. No, if the Revenue cutter hoves into view and gives chase, well then, we just sow the crop. That is, we rope the half-ankers together, weight 'em with stones and drop 'em overboard.'

  'But how would you know where you had dropped them?' asked Meggie, looking at the endless expanse of grey water.

  'There's charts miss, that we can mark and then we come back late to pick up our cargo.

  But we cannot be leaving it too long, else the sea water will get into the barrels and spoil the brandy.'

  'And when you land,' said Rosamund, intrigued. 'Surely there is more risk then of you being surprised.'

  'Aye madam, but we have lookouts who give us the nod if there's trouble. For instance, when we are standing off the bay, you look to the cliff top. If you see a man on a grey horse riding south along the cliff, then you know we'll be safe to land.'

  'Should you be telling us all this, captain,' murmured the marquis. 'Can we be trusted, do you think?'

  The giant threw back his head and gave a hearty bellow of laughter.

  'I've only told 'ee what the Revenue men already knows, sir. And as for the lookout, that changes every trip, so much good that information will do 'ee.'

  With a nod the captain went off, still chuckling.

  Snuggled down behind the barrels and sheltered from the wind, Rosamund closed her eyes, enjoying the warm sun on her face. Occasionally, as the morning wore on, the spray would touch her skin, but it did not disturb her and with her companions she dozed for the remainder of the crossing until a quiet word from the marquis made her sit up. They were within sight of land, the rugged cliffs and green hills of the Devon coast growing ever closer.

  The marquis pointed.

  'That is our destination, I think,' he said. 'That small cleft in the hills. And there, if I am not mistaken, is the lookout.'

  She followed his outstretched finger, looking up at the cliff top. A tiny figure, a rider on a grey horse, could be seen riding along the ridge.

  'He is heading south. That means it is clear.' She turned to the marquis. 'We are home, Elliot.'

  He put his arm around her and pulled her to him. Before she knew it, he was kissing her. It was rough and salty, the full day's growth of stubble on his chin grazed her face, but she wanted it to go on forever. Her hand came up, fingers threading through his dark hair. At last he let her go, but only so that he could look down into her face.

  'That is the first time you have used my name.' he murmured.

  'Really? I did not notice.'

  He hugged her.

  'I hope you will continue to use it. I like the sound of it on your lips.'

  The cliffs were towering over them now, the sun almost directly overhead.

  'I thought we should be landing here on a moonless night,' confessed Rosamund.

  Davis allowed himself a rare smile.

  'The captain says these remote beaches are quite safe, even in daylight.'

  They were heading towards the narrow strip of beach at the mouth of the inlet, where a string of pack-horses was already waiting. The captain sailed the shallow-keeled lugger directly on to the beach, leaving only a few feet of water to be negotiated. The men had removed their boots and jumped down to wade ashore while Meggie was subjected to the indignity of being thrown over the captain's shoulder to save wetting her thick skirts. Rosamund submitted herself to the same treatment and was soon standing on the beach beside the marquis, a little red-faced, but perfectly composed.

  The captain wished them good fortune for the remainder of their journey. Lord Ullenwood handed him a purse which he pocketed with a word of thanks and a wink, adding, 'I'll have one of the village lads escort you to the vicarage. The reverend will be able to take you in until you can arrange for a carriage to carry you back to London.'

  'I might need to find a banker first,' the marquis replied. 'My ready funds are nigh exhausted.'

  'Well, once the dibs are in tune we should be able to find ourselves a decent carriage and horses now, my lord,' remarked John, tapping out his pipe and refilling it.

  'My lord?' The captain repeated, raising an enquiring eyebrow.

  'Marquis of Ullenwood, at your service, captain.' Elliot bowed. 'It was thought advisable not to use the title in France.'

  'No, very true,' muttered the captain, staring at him for a moment before grinning broadly. 'Well dang me! So I've had a real live marquis on board. Well I never!'

  He walked away, chuckling, and Lord Ullenwood took Rosamund's arm and began to follow a ragged urchin to the vicarage, leaving Meggie to follow behind with Davis and John, who were waiting for their trunk to be secured on a spare pack-horse.

  They had not quite left the beach when the marquis looked behind him to see that the others were out of ear-shot.

  'Well, Ros, I am too impatient to wait any longer. It is time to make some decisions' he said. 'You have become such a managing female these past weeks that it should not be hard for you.'

  'What is there to decide, my lord?'

  'In Paris, madam, you were determined our marriage was a mistake and must be annulled. I need to know if you want me to take you to London and summon our lawyers, or do we go directly to Leverhill?'

  She swallowed.

  'What – what would you like to do, Elliot?'

  He stopped and turned towards her, catching her hands. His thumbs circled the bare patch of skin between glove and sleeve, sending little shockwav
es up her arms, and making it even more difficult for her to stand still.

  'Wiltshire is of course closer.'

  At his words she gave an exasperated sigh and his grip tightened.

  'Forgive me.' He fixed his eyes at some point above her head and said carefully. 'I was ever a solitary fellow, Ros. I have never been in the habit of explaining myself and do not find it easy to share my thoughts with anyone. It is especially difficult now, when it concerns something so close to my heart. You have never seen Leverhill. I think you would like it. We will be too late to see the spring flowers, but the bluebells in the home wood look wonderful. My father had Leverhill built for his bride and I have always thought of it as home.' He looked down at her. 'We have made a poor beginning, Ros. I would like us to start again: this time it will be a real marriage, for both of us.'

  'But you said we should go our own way, my lord,' she reminded him. 'It was to be a marriage of convenience. A logical choice. You could have your mistresses and I – '

  She broke off as the grip on her hands became painful.

  'Logic be damned!' he retorted savagely. 'I was foolish every to think of it. If we are to continue, madam, there will be no one else, on either side. I will make you this promise, Rosamund. In future there will be no mistress in my life except you.'

  He stopped. She observed the muscle in his cheek working and she wanted to reach up to smooth away his worried look, to tell him she understood, but she needed him to tell her what was in his heart.

  He continued, 'I should like to take you home with me now. To have and to hold, from this day forward. What do you say, Ros?'

  She looked down at their clasped hands.

  'You said that only a fool would seek perfection, sir, but would I be too much of a fool to expect you to, to love me?'

  'To – well, of course I do!'

  'You have never told me so.'

  He put his fingers under her chin and tilted her face up towards him. 'My darling Rosamund, I love you more than life itself. I love you, if you must know, to the point of madness!'

  She blinked, but this time the tears would not be held back. They spilled over her cheeks, even while her face was wreathed in smiles.

  'Oh Elliot, my love, I have wanted you to say that for so long!'

  He kissed her.

  'Well, then, madam, which is it to be? Make your choice.'

  'To Leverhill, if you please.' With a happy sigh she leaned against him. 'Take me home, Elliot.'

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Lord and Lady Ullenwood returned to Ullenwood House in September, in time for the wedding of Mrs Tomlinson to Sir James Ashby. They arrived at Ullenwood House to find Arabella waiting for them. As they entered the drawing room she ran forward, chattering non-stop.

  'Cousin Elliot, how well you look! And Rosamund, my love, let me look at you. I declare you are positively blooming! We have been longing to see you, for although your letters explaining how you escaped from France were fascinating, my dear there is so much I want to ask you, and you do not need to worry at all that I did not get my dashy dress, for I have found the most wonderful French seamstress here in Town. My love, would you credit it? Oh, and Mama was obliged to go out, but she says I am to make sure I thank you for allowing us to live at Ullenwood House until the wedding. She is so happy to be hostess here, but all that will have to change now you are come, of course.'

  The marquis walked over to Sir James, holding out his hand.

  'Good God, Ashby, do you really want to marry such a gabster?'

  'Isn't she a darling?' Sir James grinned. 'She is excited, that is all. Were you surprised when you heard we were betrothed? I hope you do not object?'

  Lord Ullenwood put out his hand.

  'Would it make a difference if I did object? My wife guessed which way the wind was blowing, so I was prepared. Congratulations, my friend.'

  Sir James gripped his hand. 'Thank you, Elliot. But tell me, how are you, fully recovered now I trust?'

  'Aye, never better.'

  'And how is Lady Ullenwood.? I hope you are keeping her busy. Bella told me that your lady was determined to find an occupation.'

  The marquis grinned. 'She is my right hand now, and understands estate business very well. Which is useful, since she is determined I shall be more active in politics.'

  'About time!' Sir James nodded vigorously. 'I have been urging you to do so for years.'

  'Well, it seems you will have your wish. I am to give up my hedonistic ways and become a useful citizen. Ros wants to support Wilberforce with his call for the abolition of slavery and she is keen that we support the war effort. I foresee a busy few years ahead of us.'

  'Well thank heaven you have had the summer at Leverhill to recover. From what I learned of your time in France I think you deserved it. The message you sent to me, that Napoleon had decided to sell Louisiana and concentrate on building up his western ports, finally convinced the government to act. Very late, of course, but it could have been much worse.'

  'So, we are at war again, and in imminent expectation of invasion.'

  'Aye, but better that than to be shilly-shallying while Bonaparte has it all his own way. We have pre-empted him, Elliot. Personally, I do not believe Boney will try to invade us now. We spiked his guns. Let me pour you some of this excellent cognac, Elliot.'

  'Thank you,' Lord Ullenwood's lips twitched. 'It is mine own, after all. And after the events of the spring I have a special affection for the spirit. So, how are the arrangements proceeding for your wedding?'

  'Very well, my friend. Bella and her mother discuss everything with my own dear mama: there is nothing for me to do but to turn up on the day.'

  'And Lady Ashby's ball, to celebrate your forthcoming nuptials?'

  'All arranged for Friday, as planned.'

  The marquis studied his glass.

  'And the guest list – you have added my suggestions?'

  Sir James grinned.

  'Yes. Mama was dead set against it, of course, but you are after all the hero of the hour, and your wishes must be granted.'

  'Excellent. Then we can look forward to an eventful evening.'

  ***

  Rosamund was at her dressing table when the marquis came in. She looked up, meeting his eyes in the mirror. Her heart swelled with pride at the sight of him in his black evening coat, white waistcoat and the tight knee breeches that showed his muscled thighs to advantage.

  'Is it time to leave already, my lord? I beg your pardon, I thought –'

  'No, calm yourself, Ros. You have plenty of time. I came to see how you go on.' He put his hands on her shoulders, smiling at her in the mirror. 'What is it, my love, do you not wish to go to Lady Ashby's ball?'

  She sighed.

  'Bella is my dearest friend, and Sir James has been your close companion since you were boys. You know we must attend, it is in their honour.'

  'And I want the opportunity to show off my new bride. You have not yet been to a Society ball, Ros. You might enjoy it.'

  She thought back to her last public appearance in Paris, and her cheeks reddened at the memory. She dropped her head to one side, resting her cheek on his hand.

  'I am sure I shall, if you are there beside me.'

  He kissed her neck. 'My darling, I shall be with you always. Now. I have brought you this.'

  She took the slim leather case and opened it carefully, gasping as the light glittered on the diamonds nestling on their satin bed.

  'Oh, Elliot, they are beautiful.'

  He lifted out the necklace and fastened it around her neck.

  'Coloured stones would be frowned upon, since you are not yet out of mourning, but you may wear this necklace for me tonight, with the matching ear-drops. There, now stand up and let me look at you.'

  She stood before him, shaking out the skirts of her white and silver gown.

  'Well, will I do for you, Elliot? I do not wish to let you down.'

  He picked up her spangled shawl and draped it gently
over her shoulders.

  'You look magnificent, my dear. And you must not be anxious. I shall be at your side throughout the evening, I promise you.'

  Ashby House was on the western fringe of the capital, a pristine new building with soaring white columns at its impressive entrance. When the Ullenwood town coach arrived, the sweeping drive was already crowded and it took several minutes for them to reach the shallow steps where liveried footmen jumped forward to open the door and tenderly help them to alight. Lady Ashby, Sir James and Arabella were waiting at the top of the grand staircase and as Rosamund approached, Lady Ashby held out her be-ringed hands to her.

  'So you are Elliot's new bride. At last we meet. How do you do, my dear? Such adventures as you have had! James has told me all about it. Not that he needed to do so, because it is all over Town, you know. You and Elliot will be much feted tonight, I think' She barely waited for Rosamund's shy response before she said, 'But I suppose I must not keep you to myself. Off you go now and talk to Arabella.'

  As Rosamund moved away, Lady Ashby turned to Lord Ullenwood.

  Well, well, Elliot. No wonder you are looking so pleased with yourself. Your bride is adorable. '

  'Thank you, ma'am.'

  'And do your aunts approve?'

  'They do, my lady. I took Lady Ullenwood to visit each of 'em during the summer.'

  She tapped his arm. 'Much you would care if they disapproved of your choice!'

  'True, but my wife would care, so I am glad they like her.'

  'Hmm, you seem very fond of your new bride, which makes it all the more puzzling why you should ask me to add that woman to my guest list. But there, all the world and his wife will be here tonight, so I doubt we shall even notice her.'

  He smiled. 'Oh I think we will, ma'am. I hope everyone will notice her.'

  The marquis collected his wife and escorted her through the rooms. Everywhere they went, Rosamund found people wanting to be presented to her and to talk about their escape from France. Elliot was true to his word and stayed at her side, and gradually Rosamund began to relax and enjoy herself. She refused to dance, excusing herself on the grounds that she was still in mourning, but she was happy to stand beside her husband, watching James and Arabella lead the dancing.