A Chance Gone By (Brides By Chance Regency Adventures Book 2)

by Elizabeth Bailey

  “What? Why do you look at me so?”

  His cousin shifted his shoulders. “Just thinking. Must be devilish to be in Marianne’s shoes. Hadn’t considered before, but only think. No means of her own. No family besides yours. Wholly dependent on Lady Purford’s charity. Which is to say, wholly dependent on you, coz.”

  The awful truth of this swept into Justin’s heart. Marianne had ever been so much a member of the family, he had not stopped to think of how humiliating her position must be. But Alex had not finished.

  “Thing is, coz, there ain’t much choice for a girl in her condition. She can’t leave, however much she wants to. Spoke of hiring herself out for a companion or some such, but Marianne knew well you’d not stand for that.”

  “Good God, no!”

  Appalled, Justin could only be glad Marianne had not mentioned that suggestion to him. He would have gone through the roof and she must have known it.

  “Don’t suppose Lady Purford would support her in that notion either, though I take it all’s not been well between the two of them of late.”

  Justin had not realised this either. He knew there had been a falling out, but he’d thought matters had improved since he installed the Dragon in Marianne’s place. He’d hoped to relieve her of some of her burdens, if he could do nothing else for her.

  “Truth is, coz, marriage is the only way out.”

  Bitterness gnawed at Justin. “And marriage with me being unacceptable to her, she wants to flee my vicinity. Yes, the irony does not escape me, Alex.”

  To his confusion, his cousin broke into a grin. “Exactly so, old fellow. Only one thing for you to do, ain’t there?”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Waking with a heavy head only when Nancy drew back the curtains around her bed, Marianne screwed her eyes into slits against the light.

  “I’ve brought your chocolate, Miss Marianne.”

  She blinked owlishly at the maid, whose eyes popped at her. A lively girl, who had long served Marianne as well as the Dragon, leaving Ellen free for her duties towards the more important members of the household, she made no bones about speaking her mind.

  “Goodness, miss, you do look awful peaky! Are you ill? ’Tisn’t like you to sleep so late neither.”

  Marianne struggled to sit up, feeling a rush of pain about her forehead.

  “Dearie me! Here, let me.”

  Nancy plumped and banked the pillows behind her, and Marianne sank against them in relief, letting her head fall back.

  The maid eyed her, clucking concern. “Seems to me as if I ought to fetch Mrs Woofferton to you, Miss Marianne.”

  “No, Nancy, no need. I am not ill. I didn’t sleep well, that’s all.”

  “Yes, and anyone could see that,” said the girl in a scolding tone, as she reached for the cup reposing on a tray by the bed and lifted off the lid.

  A welcome aroma wafted into Marianne’s nostrils and she took the cup in a shaky grasp, sipping gratefully at the sweet hot liquid inside.

  Nancy beamed. “There, that’s doing you good, isn’t it? Mrs Woofferton always says there’s nothing like a cup of chocolate to put heart into a body.”

  Marianne managed a smile. “She’s right. I’ll be better presently.”

  The maid frowned. “Well, don’t you be hurrying to get up, Miss Marianne. You stay there and take your rest for once.”

  Well aware the female staff jealously guarded her welfare, apparently believing her to be put-upon by Grace, Marianne let this pass without comment.

  “Am I very late? What is the time, Nancy?”

  “It’s gone nine, miss.”

  Marianne almost dropped the cup. “Gone nine? Good heavens, why did you not wake me earlier?”

  “Mrs Woofferton told me not to. She said you were looking tired out yesterday.”

  Oh, dear Lord! How many others had noticed how distrait she’d been? She must strive for more control.

  “Would you fetch up my hot water, if you please, Nancy? Stay! Is — is anyone else up already?”

  The girl paused on her way to the door and came back again.

  “His lordship and Lord Dymond have gone riding, but the other gentleman and Lady Jocasta ain’t been seen yet. Her ladyship is still abed. Ellen didn’t like to wake her neither.”

  That was one mercy. And if she hurried, she could take breakfast before Alex and Justin came in. They would be obliged to change their clothes before breaking their fast. This determined, she addressed the maid, who was still hovering.

  “Thank you, Nancy. Pray fetch up the water directly.”

  The fuzziness in her head receded as she drank her chocolate and waited for the maid to return with her large porcelain jug filled with hot water. It did not take her long to wash and dress herself in her thick muslin workaday gown, and she took a moment to confer with Mrs Woofferton before entering the breakfast parlour.

  Only Miss Stubbings was present, as ever prim in her everlasting supply of plain chintz gowns in fusty colours. She was just finishing her repast, and Marianne found it easy enough to respond to a series of desultory remarks about the prettiness of Harriet Ibbotson, the excellent manners of her spouse and how Grace had doted on the children.

  Her mind was far from yesterday’s visitors. With the flurry of preparation over, she could not prevent her thoughts returning, as she consumed a light meal of rolls and coffee, to the pangs of a dismal and sleepless night.

  She’d allowed herself the luxury of weeping into her pillows for a time. It was not her custom to succumb to such weakness, and she despised herself for her lack of control. But the lowness of spirits pursued her into her dreams when she at last fell asleep, treacherously presenting her with the age-old visions of being held in Justin’s arms, of being loved and cherished by him in the way she’d longed for almost since the day they’d met.

  Her immature fancy had deepened as she grew to womanhood, and their friendship gave her an intimate knowledge of his character. Her affections became fixed and the dreams ripened. But she’d not had them for some time and could only suppose they’d been conjured by yesterday’s events.

  Miss Stubbings soon left, declaring she must go and see to Grace’s comfort, and Marianne was able to drink a second cup of coffee in peace.

  Her thoughts drifted, numbed by the aftermath of an uncomfortable night.

  It seemed an age since the appalling scandal of Lady Selina’s escape. Almost as though it had happened to some other family. So much had changed. She ought to be grateful to Tazewell, whose offer had lifted them into celebration after the plunging disaster.

  Marianne was struck all at once by the oddity of the last few weeks. A year ago, she would have given anything to be in the situation she was in now. Nor would she have hesitated if Justin had asked her then to marry him. How strange it was that the opportunity she’d longed for should have cast her into a pool of dejection.

  Had she been foolish? She’d bayed for the moon, instead of being content with a sprinkling of stars. It was too late now. Too much damage had been done. But what if she’d accepted him at the outset?

  A swift review of their relationship since was enough to convince her she had done right. How pitiful must her situation be now had she agreed to marry him. To be intimate without the intimacy of mutual affection? No. She would be in as much turmoil as she now was, if not worse. Because she’d have no means to extricate herself once she’d committed to the marriage.

  At least now she had a choice. A new determination buoyed her. She would write to Lady Luthrie and throw herself upon that lady’s mercy.

  Deciding what she must do served to settle her mind. Meanwhile, she had duties to attend to. She found herself at once thinking of how she could arrange for the various tasks she undertook to be apportioned to others. Much of what she did could be undertaken by Miss Stubbings. Grace might not like it, but she must bestir herself to do more. And some few things would need to pass back to Justin, or his agent. There could be no difficulty. No one p
erson was indispensable. Marianne could readily be replaced.

  She was able to continue in this frame of mind for some little while, but it proved less efficacious than she had hoped. Each action she performed felt like a pinprick of loss, as if she mentally said farewell to her unofficial stance as mistress of the household. The realisation of how closely interwoven she was in Justin’s life, by virtue of what she did to ensure the smooth running of his home, could not but pierce the thin armour she’d erected around her misery.

  A reminder from Mrs Woofferton completed her discomfiture.

  “That Peggy Baker is still unwell, Miss Marianne, though she sent to ask if we’ve work for her to do. I was wondering if I should let her have a little darning. Those sheets we looked out t’other day need doing, and she could manage that. It’d relieve you and Lady Jocasta of all that sewing too.”

  Marianne agreed to it, adding that she would try to visit Peggy again. She wondered briefly if Grace might be persuaded to go, and dismissed the thought at once. Grace would never enter a cottage where she might be subject to catching some illness, convinced she was susceptible to infection.

  “Such a pity about those curtains, miss. The women worked hard to finish them. Seems a shame they’ll go to waste.”

  Startled, Marianne stared at her. “Go to waste? Why should they?”

  “Well, you said at the time it was a makeshift solution. I dare say, when his lordship chooses another, the new mistress won’t be satisfied.”

  Her mind all chaos, Marianne knew not how she replied. Another mistress? Some unknown female to discard those beautiful curtains? To throw her choice aside, as of no account? A hectic mix of emotions churned within her.

  Excusing herself to the housekeeper, she sped up the stairs and into the gallery that led to the principal rooms.

  Standing in the bedchamber adjoining Justin’s, Marianne’s gaze fell upon the golden coverlet and swiftly shifted to the tied curtains, held at each post so that a fall of the material showed the exquisite pattern of birds, twine and leaves.

  Moving forward, Marianne set her fingers on the pattern, tracing the birds one by one, moving around the post to which the curtain was fixed, her mind alive with memories once again.

  Without warning, the hidden well of distress came gushing up to claim her.

  Struggling for control and finding her knees weak, she sank onto the golden coverlet, letting her hands fall. Without will her touch ran across the silky sheen as she fought the pricking tears. She must not give way. This was merely the effect of nostalgia. A snippet of her life only was in these curtains, this coverlet. Ridiculous to allow them to conquer her when her determination was fixed.

  Her throat ached with holding back the threatening grief, a leaden weight in her chest.

  A scrape of sound shot question into her head, suspending the distressing symptoms within her. Gaining focus as she looked up, she saw the door to Justin’s apartment opening.

  Panic threw her to her feet as he appeared in the aperture. He stopped dead.

  “Marianne!”

  Before she could react, he closed the door, moving towards her.

  “I’ve been searching for you all over! Why in the world are you hiding in here?”

  Marianne’s tongue froze. Must he take it into his head to come looking for her just at this moment?

  In seconds he was close enough to see her properly and his face changed.

  “What is it?”

  His instant recognition of her state wrought havoc within her. The need to conceal it dictated her tone. “Nothing! What do you want, Justin?”

  Those green eyes fairly glared into hers. With a jolt, Marianne recognised the stubborn tilt to his chin.

  “Don’t fob me off! I know you are distressed. You were last night when you ran away.”

  “I didn’t run away!”

  “You did, and you’ve been crying!”

  “I have not!”

  “Don’t dare lie to me, for I know you too well.”

  Marianne’s temper got the better of her. “Oh, be quiet! Have you not plagued me enough?”

  Justin grasped her unwilling hands, holding them hard. “Marianne, listen to me! You are not leaving this house, do you understand me?”

  From nowhere, rage climbed into Marianne’s bosom. She wrenched her hands away, springing away from him towards the head of the bed.

  “How dare you dictate to me? Am I your chattel, your slave, that you can order my movements as you choose?”

  He came after her, seizing her shoulders. “Neither, and that’s just the point. No, don’t try to escape me. You will listen!”

  “Justin, let me go, or by heaven —”

  He gave her a shake and Marianne threw him a fulminating look. Useless to struggle. Instead, she went rigid under his hands.

  “Go on then if you must.”

  “Don’t say it like that!” His tone softened. “Marianne, I can’t let you go, you must see that. It touches my honour, apart from anything else.”

  Despite the fury, Marianne’s acute common sense saw the force of this. “You need not spell it out. I am all too aware of my situation.”

  “Yes, but I don’t think you are.”

  Resentment sprang up and she pushed at his wrists. “Release me, Justin.”

  “I’m not letting you go until you see sense. I’ve been too easy with you, Marianne.”

  “Easy!”

  “Yes. I’ve allowed your nonsensical scruples to weigh with me, but since you insist on behaving like a lunatic, I’ve made up my mind not to do so any longer.”

  “And I’ve made up my mind to do exactly as I choose!”

  Justin’s hold tightened, and his tone became urgent. “Then choose to marry me, Marianne. For God’s sake, stop being so utterly proud and imprudent! It’s not as if I don’t love you!”

  The world went still. Marianne’s burgeoning anger slid out of her grasp. For a moment of wild confusion, she thought she was asleep and dreaming again. Her brain began to whirl and she swayed.

  “I think I’m going to faint.”

  Justin’s hands abruptly left her shoulders, and he caught her instead. “Dear Lord! Here, sit down.”

  She found herself on the bed, one hand clinging to a post, the other pushed down into the coverlet as she fought to maintain her balance. Her head slowly cleared. She looked up to find Justin watching her in some concern.

  Anxiety gnawed at her. She must know!

  “What did you say?”

  It came out a near whisper, and Marianne held her breath as he frowned.

  “When?”

  “Just now. You said…”

  He shrugged, as if the matter was of no account. “I don’t know. I said you should marry me.”

  To her own bewilderment, Marianne felt the fury reviving. The words were out before she could stop them. “No, not that! You said you loved me. Didn’t you say that? Did you?”

  He threw out his hands in a gesture utterly confused. “Yes, but why are you angry?”

  She paid no heed to this. “You love me?”

  He flushed. “I beg your pardon if it upsets you, but yes, I love you. I’ve always loved you.”

  She was on her feet, rage burning through her even as tears began to trickle down her cheeks. “You idiot man!” Balling a fist, she hit Justin in the chest. “Stupid, idiot creature! Why could you not have said so before?”

  He caught her wrists before she could strike him again, urgency in his voice. “Wait! Wait! Before you ring your peal over me, why, Marianne? Why are you angry when I tell you that I love you?”

  She wrenched her hands away, dashing at her cheeks, hardly able to get the words out. “Why do you — do you think, you — you — oh, I could cheerfully take an axe to you, you unfeeling, pitiless —”

  “For God’s sake, why?”

  “B-because you b-broke my h-heart!”

  Light entered his features, and he caught her face between his hands, the green eyes tender
. “Oh, my love, don’t weep! I never meant to hurt you.”

  “But you did, Justin, you did! For y-years you’ve had all my h-heart. How could you not know that?”

  A faint smile flickered, and his eyes shone. His voice was unsteady. “Because I’m an idiot, Marianne, just as you said.”

  A watery chuckle escaped her and she did not resist when he drew her into his arms. She rested her head against his shoulder, catching her breath as the desire to weep began to recede.

  For a long moment, Justin did not move, and Marianne was content to be held, to feel his warmth, his strength and his love, to be where she’d longed to be. A glow, like a tiny candle, began in her breast, seeping through her whole being, warming the cold places she’d harboured for too many years.

  At last the embrace loosened, and she raised her head and met his eyes, so close, intense with something that sent a fleeting thrill along her veins. Her thoughts became suspended. An eon passed.

  She felt his fingers on her chin, and one tip ran briefly across her lips, sending a flitter of warmth pursuing the thrill. She could not breathe as his face came closer. The veriest touch of his lips on hers — tentative, like a butterfly. The kiss, like nothing she had ever dreamed, was magical. Soft, tender, replete with affection.

  And then it changed. Justin’s hold about her tightened, his mouth pressed closer, harder, and she heard his intake of breath even as heat seared her insides.

  Involuntarily she gave a soft moan. As if it was a flame to tinder, Justin responded with a groan, dragging her so close against him she could feel every muscle in his chest, the hardness of his legs even through her petticoats. The sheer manliness of his form drove her brain into frenzy.

  Aware of nothing save sensation, Marianne returned the assault with fervour, until Justin pulled away, breathing hard and staring down at her with dismay and shock in his eyes.

  “We had best get married right away!”

  Marianne, both mind and body tousled into confusion, began to laugh. “Wretched creature! Have you no sense of romance?”

  Justin broke into a grin and caught her briefly against him. “My God, but I adore you!” He put her from him, his hands firm. “Let us damp things down before I dare touch you again.”