If he heard his daughter’s remark, Mr. Lennox ignored her. He barked some quick orders to the butler and hurried to the nearest sitting room, awaiting the viscount’s arrival. Mr. Lennox tried to hide the anticipation from his face. He needed to get his daughter off his hands as quickly as possible. If his plan didn’t work, everyone would know what sort of daughter he had. His friends would shun him! He’d be blacklisted at his favorite clubs! He couldn’t stand for that, could he?
A few minutes later, the butler announced “Lord Randall to see you, sir,” and ushered a tall, gaunt-cheeked man into the room.
“Good evening, my lord,” Mr. Lennox greeted the viscount, hopping to his feet. Tall and lean, Lord Randall towered above him. He was a slightly intimidating figure to a stout, portly man like Mr. Lennox. “Or… uh… it’s rather like good morning, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” Lord Randall agreed, his thin lips twitching into a smile. “I hope you are well.”
“Very well, sir. How was your journey?”
“Short,” the viscount answered with a chuckle. “At present, I’m still living in London. My townhouse isn’t too far from here, actually. But… as I said in my letter, I have plans to move to Berkshire as soon as I marry your daughter.”
“Yes. Very good.” Out of sight, out of mind, Mr. Lennox mused.
“Is that her, sir?” As he spoke, Tristan nodded in the direction of a portrait on the wall.
“Ah, yes. That’s my Leona. Of course, she was a bit younger when she sat for that portrait.”
“She looks beautiful. She’s… just as I remember her.” As Tristan stared at the picture of the angelic beauty, her image tugged at his heartstrings. He hadn’t even met her face-to-face, and he was already feeling like a villain. He wondered if it would be impossible to look into the eyes of that beautiful creature and lie to her. How would she react if she knew he didn’t have long to live?
How would her father react?
“So… right… the wedding.” Mr. Lennox rubbed the palms of his hands together, looking sinister as he did. “Let’s not waste any time, shall we? Would you like a cigar? A brandy?” He opened up a box of cigars and withdrew one for himself.
“No. I really shouldn’t.”
“Very well. So, we both expressed a desire to arrange a wedding soon. Very soon. Is there any reason why we shouldn’t schedule it as early as… next week?”
“That would suit me fine, Mr. Lennox. But there’s something I must tell you.”
The older man didn’t hear a word he said. It was like Mr. Lennox was in a trance. “I thought about announcing the engagement in the paper, but… honestly, I don’t want a lot of people turning up. I think it would be better if we kept this between friends and family.”
In Mr. Lennox’s mind, that list included himself, Leona, Lord Randall and Leona’s maid. Anyone else might suspect he was patching up a scandal with a quick marriage.
Which, of course, he was.
“Mr. Lennox,” Tristan tried again. “I have something very important to tell you. I hope it doesn’t affect your decision to offer your daughter’s hand in marriage. If it does, I won’t hold it against you. I would understand any reservation on your part.”
Mr. Lennox shook his head. His mouth was hanging open, so his lower lip shook like a hound dog’s jowls. “What is it?”
Tristan gripped his walking stick and closed his eyes. If Mr. Lennox changed his mind, he didn’t know what he would do. It was serendipitous that his father’s old friend was looking to arrange a match for his daughter. Another stroke of luck was unlikely. “I’ve been told I don’t have very long to live.”
“Whaaa?” The older man’s eyes were bulging.
“I have a heart condition. I’m afraid it will limit me to a few more years, at best. I hope this explains my desire to marry quickly. I… need a wife. I don’t want to be alone when I come to the end of my days. I can’t think of anything more dreadful than having no one at my bedside.” Tristan lowered his eyes; he didn’t want to see the other man’s expression. Would it be shock? Disgust? “I shouldn’t have assumed you would be willing to marry off your daughter to an invalid. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”
“Well…” Mr. Lennox cleared his throat before he spoke. “I’m very sorry to hear that, my lord.”
Several moments of silence fell on the room. Tristan wondered if he was a fool for being honest. He wondered if he would be turned away without even a glimpse of the girl who would have been his wife.
“We had an arrangement,” Mr. Lennox finally spoke up, “and I see no reason why we should break it.”
Relief fell on him like an anvil. “Really, sir? That’s wonderful!”
“I’m sure you would make my daughter a fine husband… never mind how much time you have left.”
Tristan blinked several times. “I can’t believe how understanding you are, sir! May I ask you to be understanding about something else as well?” When Mr. Lennox nodded, he continued. “I would like to tell your daughter myself, if I could. After we’re married… I’d like to be the one to tell her.”
“Ah, yes. Of course. You should definitely be the one to tell her, I think.” Mr. Lennox felt his lips elongating, twisting into a grin. The viscount’s impending death was perhaps the best news he could have hoped for. “Now… I must go fetch my daughter. It’s about time she met her future husband, don’t you think?”
Chapter Eight
Leona wasn’t listening to her father. Her eventual meeting with Lord Randall was consuming her thoughts. Her life was changing at such a drastic pace, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. In a few days’ time, she would leave her father and go to live with a husband she did not know. She didn’t mind leaving her father, but… a husband! The thought made her stomach quake.
So did the thought of a baby. Lord Wintergreen’s baby. If her father had his way, she was supposed to lie to this new man. How wicked had she allowed herself to become?
“So, Leona…” Her father was grinning again. It was his usual, devious, gum-baring grin. “What do you think about everything I’ve just told you?”
“I’m sorry, Father. I’m afraid I… I’m afraid I wasn’t paying attention.”
“Not paying attention? Don’t you realize that what I’m saying concerns you more than it concerns anyone else? And you can’t trouble yourself to pay attention? I’ve worked out everything for you… everything is perfect! The least you could do is show a little gratitude.”
“I’m sorry, Father,” Leona repeated through clenched teeth.
“It’s the greatest news we could ask for, really. The man is dying!”
Leona’s head tilted. “Who is dying?”
“Good God, you really listened to none of it? Lord Randall is dying, girl! He’s ill! And he ain’t got long to live!”
“Are you serious? You’re marrying me off to a dying man?” Crossing her arms over her chest, Leona stared blankly at her father. “Do you care to explain why this news of my fiancé’s condition should make me happy?”
“I can’t believe I have to explain everything to you, Leona. Your mother always thought you were such a clever girl…” Mr. Lennox sighed. “The fact that Lord Randall is dying is most advantageous. He wants to expedite everything as much, if not more, than we do! I’ve thrown a beautiful girl in his path, and he’s lapping it up. You could have him eating out of the palm of your hand.”
“Well…” Leona kept her arms crossed. “I guess I’m not as heartless as you are, Father. I will not rejoice at the prospect of losing my husband… though I suppose it would be in my best interest to dislike him as much as possible. I don’t want to get attached to him, only to lose him in… how long do you think he’ll live?”
“About a year or so, or something like that. Anyway, dear, he doesn’t seem like the sort of man you would get attached to.”
“Why do you say that?”
Her father didn’t honor her with an answer. Instead, he asked, “Do
you remember the plan?”
“I know what you intend for me to do, Father, but I’d rather not recite it. It makes me feel like such a--”
Mr. Lennox interrupted and said, “you marry him, you bed him, and you make him think that bastard is his. If it all goes according to plan, your unborn son will be a viscount in a year or so!”
“And if I have a daughter?” Leona dryly questioned.
“You’ll still be a viscountess, and a respectable widow! It’s much better than having the baby and letting everyone know what really went on, isn’t it?” Her father waved a hand at Leona’s midsection. “When Lord Randall dies, you’ll be free to marry the man of your choice. The fact that he’s dying is beneficial to us, don’t you see? I’m not asking you to shackle yourself to him forever! It’s only temporary, ‘til he’s in his grave!”
Leona didn’t look amused. “I’m amazed at your cruelty, father. I haven’t even met the man, but I feel sorry for him! Poor Lord Randall! You’ve made it sound as though his death will be a blessing! I would never delight in someone else’s misfortunes.”
Mr. Lennox cradled his portly stomach in his hands; it jiggled as he chuckled. “Leona, Leona…it’s too late to pretend to be a saint! I’m telling you the circumstances as plainly as possible. You should thank me for it! Now, there’s one more thing I have to tell you. Are you listening?”
His daughter nodded solemnly.
“Lord Randall explicitly expressed that he wanted to be the one to tell you about his health. I told him I’d honor his request, but when it came down to it, I couldn’t keep such a big secret to myself. Do not tell him I let it slip.”
“After everything else, one more lie is hardly worth worrying about.” As Leona rose from her chair, she was feeling worse than she’d ever felt in her life. She hated the deceit. She hated herself. But if there was any way to improve her situation, marrying Lord Randall was her best chance. Leona tried to think she was doing him a favor. At least he would have a wife by his side when his time was up. “Alright, Father. I’m ready to meet him.”
“Remember everything I’ve told you! Be as natural as possible!” her father coached her as they headed off to the sitting room. “Whatever you do, don’t say anything that might put him off!”
“I won’t!” Leona insisted. As her father pulled open the door to the sitting room, there was a haze over her eyes. For a moment, she thought she might faint.
She saw him. When she entered with her father, Lord Randall rose to his feet and turned to meet them.
“Hello,” Lord Randall greeted them, managing a wisp of a smile.
Leona didn’t respond right away. She was too busy forming a first impression of her fiancé. There was nothing about him that put her in mind of a dying man. He looked relatively healthy, aside from the cane he used to prop himself up. Lord Randall wasn’t an unattractive man, though he wasn’t what she would call handsome. He had a strong jaw and lines around his mouth, which she found strangely appealing. His nose was oddly shaped, and his skin was a bit sallow, but Leona liked his face well enough. She was expecting someone worse.
After a moment of silence, Leona finally regained her senses and bobbed a curtsy. “Hello, my lord.”
He came forward and took her hand, raising it to his lips. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Miss Lennox. I don’t suppose you remember meeting me? You were just fifteen at the time, and now… you’re even more beautiful than I remember. Your portrait doesn’t begin to do you justice.”
“Thank you for the kind words, my lord,” Leona responded. When he released her hand, she retreated to the nearby sofa and sat. Everything was so overwhelming. This was the man she was going to marry! The man she was supposed to trick! Why did he have to be so kind and cordial? Leona thought she could feel his eyes on her, watching her, judging her. If he was a good judge of character, would he be able to tell what a horrible person she was?
“If you have any questions for me, I would be more than happy to answer them,” Lord Randall insisted.
Leona exchanged glances with her father. “No, my lord. There is nothing.”
Mr. Lennox spoke up, saving them from an awkward silence. “I’m interested to know more about Randall Hall. Aren’t you interested, Leona? After all, it will be your home in a few days’ time.”
Tristan watched Leona for several seconds, waiting for her to show some sign of interest. But she gave no indication at all, not even the merest nod. “I won’t embellish it,” Tristan began. “It is a secluded estate in Berkshire, not particularly large, but the scenery is nice. The interior is, more than likely… a bit rundown at the moment. Everything should be in order by the time we get there; however, as I sent my servants ahead to prepare for our arrival.”
“Servants? Do you have a large staff, my lord?” Mr. Lennox asked.
Tristan kept his eyes on Leona as he spoke, hoping there would be some glimmer of interest on her face. Her indifference was disappointing. “Well… not really. I have a valet, a butler, two maids… one that doubles as a cook. But they’re capable of running a household, I assure you.”
“Mary,” Leona suddenly spoke up. “My maid… Mary. I would like to keep her with me.”
She didn’t spare her fiancé a glance as she spoke. If she hated him already, they weren’t off to a very good start. Tristan wasn’t so deluded as to think she was thrilled about marrying him, but he’d expected her to be a bit less… distant. “Of course. Mary comes too,” Tristan allowed.
When a second silence descended on the room, only Leona’s father was brave enough to end it. “Well, it’s a brilliant match, if I do say so myself. I see a happy future for both of you.” His comment drew dubious looks from the engaged couple. “I’d like to get everything done as quickly as possible. Could you see yourself married by next week, my lord?”
“I have no objection,” Tristan answered. “But if the lady objects, I--”
Mr. Lennox spoke on his daughter’s behalf. “Oh, Leona’s happy about it. She thinks the engagement’s a grand idea. She has no objections.”
“Really? Well, to be honest, I’d like to hear it from her.” Tristan’s gaze was locked on Leona. He was anticipating some sort of emotion from her, but her face was completely unreadable. He couldn’t tell if she was miserable, or just apathetic. “Miss Lennox, do you have any qualms about becoming my wife? I think it is a young lady’s right to choose her husband. Your father has expressed to me that this arrangement is as much your decision as it is his. Is that true?”
Mr. Lennox snorted. “Do you doubt me, Lord Randall?”
“I don’t doubt you, Mr. Lennox. But I want to hear it from your daughter’s lips. I would hate to think our nuptials would make her unhappy.”
“I’m not unhappy.” She lowered her eyes to her stomach, reminding herself why she had to go through with this. She had no other choice. “I have no objections whatsoever.”
That was the first of many lies.
Chapter Nine
Their wedding was arranged so quickly, Leona hardly had time to blink. In an hour’s time, she would be married to a man to whom she had barely spoken a word.
Her bridal gown belonged to her mother. It didn’t matter what dress she was wearing. She could’ve been wearing the most beautiful dress in England, and it wouldn’t have done anything to quell her overwhelming feeling of dread.
Her mother’s dress. She almost felt guilty for wearing it. Leona wondered what her mother would think about everything that had gone on in the last two months. Would she have lost her mother’s respect? Would she have lost her mother’s love? Would her mother have cast her aside to some strange man in hopes of saving her daughter’s reputation?
Leona had no way of knowing.
On the way to her mother’s funeral, Leona had a similar feeling of dread in her stomach. Now she was heading to her own wedding, and the feeling was even worse. At least her mother was heading to a better place. Leona didn’t know what direction her own life was ta
king. Would it be for better or for worse? Lord Randall didn’t seem particularly awful, and she could escape her father’s abusive tongue. On the other hand, she would forever lose the life she loved, and the friends she always adored. Her girlhood days with Silly Westcock were at an end.
It was Leona’s own doing. If she hadn’t been a fool with Lord Wintergreen, she could have avoided these repercussions. Leona knew it was her own mistake that landed her in such a hopeless situation.
In less than an hour’s time, she would be Lady Randall.
“Oh well…” she sighed to herself, “I suppose it could be worse.”
Mary, who was sitting beside Leona, gave her mistress’ shoulder a squeeze. “There, there. Maybe it won’t be so bad, miss.”
Too bad she didn’t share Mary’s optimism.
When the carriage slowed, Leona peered out the window. They were approaching a small country church: a quaint, unassuming stone edifice. Was Lord Randall already inside? As she alighted from the carriage, Leona nearly stumbled. Her legs felt wobbly, like those of a deer taking its first steps. She thought she might retch. Was it because she was nervous, or was a telltale sign of her condition sneaking up on her? If she was going to retch, Leona hoped she would not do it in front of Lord Randall. It would not be a very happy way to start their marriage, would it?
Mr. Lennox sneaked up on his daughter, grabbed her elbow, and started pulling her toward the church. “Come on, then. No time to waste. The viscount’s already here. We’re late, you know? It took Summerson too long to hitch up the horses, and now we’re late!”
“Father,” Leona tried tugging her arm away from him. “Do you mind not squeezing me so hard? I don’t want my new husband to see bruises on my arm the first night we’re together.”
Her father sneered. “Must you talk about that? I don’t want to think of you with that man.”
Leona couldn’t help it—she had to roll her eyes. “You were the one who insisted I should lure him into my bed as soon as possible, were you not? I don’t see why you would shy away from the topic now, Father.”
The Fallen Woman (A Regency Romance) Page 5