The Earl's Captive Bride

by Francine Howarth

  “It would put distance between us and father,” said Marigold, “but if you think otherwise, then I shall abide to your good judgement and hide behind you if he should get past your footman.”

  “Be assured, dear Goldie, I shall defend you to the last breath.”

  “Oh Jude, you are so sweet, and so brave.”

  He bowed. “Quite a boxer, I’ll have you know. Ha, thus my nimble footwork thwarted Farnley’s intended right hook. Else I would be sporting a black blinder by now.”

  “There is the other matter to consider,” marked the earl, thrusting a hand to Pembrey’s shoulder. “We could be held to account for abduction, and if that should to come to pass, there is the added impediment of us having compromised these young ladies, albeit with the best of intentions.”

  “Heavens-to-mercy, we’ll have to wed the gals to save their reputations.”

  The earl laughed. “I think not, but all the same, we are in need of a chaperone post-haste, or we do indeed spirit the pair to a safe place, and arrange for the Constable to meet with them there. If we are here her father will assume his daughters are here as well.”

  Marigold’s elated expression in response to Pembrey’s light-hearted jest fell flat on hearing the earl’s suggestion. “Well, of course we wouldn’t expect either of you gentlemen to rally to a double elopement. Needless to say, there will be enough scandal attached to our skirts when it becomes common knowledge we’ve been in this house alone with two eligible bachelors.”

  “Precisely,” marked the earl, “do you not agree, Erica?”

  “Yes, I agree with your sentiments,” said she, whilst thinking Marigold was right, for damage to their reputations was now inevitable in light of the brave deed enacted by both men. Worse, the gifts could, if it became known abroad, ignite an already flaming gossip pyre and she and Marigold the sacrificial lambs.

  “There is my mother’s town house in Bath,” said the earl, his expression implying considered thought, “and it could not be construed as improper if you reside there alone with merely the household staff in attendance. Unlike a hotel, there will be no risk of encountering persons to whom you are acquainted. My mother is away to friends in Devon, and I believe she will be there for at least another sennight or two.”

  Pembrey thrust his hands to hips, equal in considered thoughts. “Ha, and how do we get ‘em there unseen, eh?”

  “Subterfuge, dear fellow. A little forethought and artifice will serve purpose. I will away to town, a plan already forming in mind. With a few items purchased we’ll fox those blighters, for if as Townsend said, he will leave men at the gates to stand watch over the comings and goings from this house, then my intended ruse will like as not sheep wool him and Farnley. I’ll reveal all upon my return.”

  “Good man,” said Pembrey, a broad grin, “for it’s not the first time we’ve resorted to artifice in times of need.”

  “Quite, and if you’ll excuse me ladies, I’ll away as soon as I’ve donned driving boots.”

  Quick in turning about Derby Rossiter departed their company, Marigold’s expression unreadable until she said: “Well it seems we are to take flight, and I shall miss you, Jude, as I’ve missed your company these past weeks.”

  “Have you? Will you?” said he, catching up her hand and thence a kiss to her fingers. “That’s nice.”

  Tears welled in Marigold’s eyes, her voice faltering. “I fear, fear; oh dear, if we are ordered by mother to join with her in Suffolk I fear I shall never see you again.”

  “Suffolk is a good distance to travel, I grant you, but not insurmountable for one such as I.”

  “Oh. Oh. Would you come and visit me there?”

  “If it would please you, Goldie, I shall answer any and all invitations from your mother requesting my pleasure at her abode.”

  Quite unexpected and without a thought to the consequences, Marigold threw her arms about his neck and kissed him, full on the lips.”

  “Well, I do declare,” said he, as Marigold released him from captivity, “How glad I am for a witness to your fervent affections. My honour thus untarnished.”

  The laughter that ensued lightened the direness of the present situation, in which two men were endeavouring to save the elder sister from a fate worse than death, and at the same time doing their best to adhere to a goodly code of conduct. “Really Marigold, be a little more circumspect, please, else poor Pembrey may feel somewhat compromised.”

  “Oh phooey, he knows I love him most dear. Don’t you, Jude?”

  “I, I, I. Well yes, I suppose I do, now. Though confess I had not thought as much beforehand.”

  “But you must have known, else why did you pay visit so often at Frampton?”

  “Ah, you have me there, thus I shall plead guilty to great affection for you.”

  “You could have said as much, and had you done so, we could have met in secret.”

  “Perish the thought, Goldie, else that would label me a bounder akin to Farnley.”

  “You wouldn’t force indecent attentions upon me as he did with Erica.”

  “There is that in my favour, yes indeed, but I dare say I would have harboured wicked thoughts of seduction. It is a natural consequence of great affections extended to a young lady.”

  “Oh did you? Do you harbour naughty thoughts?”

  “Heavens, my sweet temptress,” said he, face flushing with pink blotches, and decided sense of discomfiture befalling him. “I am quite undone and shameless in confession of undying love.” He made for a chair a noticeable protrusion extending within in his groin, and hid it beneath the table. “Sit down, Goldie,” pleaded he, perspiration beading to brow, “for I require a moment to gain sense of equilibrium.”

  Astonished by their honest interaction, his admiration for Marigold more than mere friendship, the moment had stretched to a level of romantic verbal intercourse and poor Pembrey quite aroused by it all. His embarrassment apparent, and well aware Marigold bore a wicked expression of pursuit to nail her heart’s desire to solid commitment, it was the duty of an elder sister to intervene: “Shall we take a little a stroll around the garden, and allow Jude a moment to come to terms with your confession and his own. It is, after all, quite a revelation, and raises problems I had not foreseen, any more than he.”

  “Do that, my sweet precious,” said Pembrey, a heartfelt smile and sense of relief about him, “and I shall join with you when I am feeling better able to adopt rational thought and a solution to the dilemma that has now befallen us.”

  “Is it such a dilemma, and should we not discuss our feelings further?” implored Marigold.

  “All in good time, little sister, for if you care to remember that of which we encountered in the arbour, and all that it entailed; then I think your taking a walk is advisable.”

  Sense of recognition befell Marigold, her eyes alighting on Pembrey sitting forward in his chair his nether parts well concealed below the table. “Yes, I see it is for the best,” said she, a wicked smile curving at her lips. “Poor Jude, I hadn’t realised you were suffering passions of that nature.”

  “It is the unfortunate consequence of manhood,” said he, markedly in need of a quiet moment alone, his face a picture of inner disquiet as he furthered: “My heart is ablaze with fire, my mind somewhat preoccupied, and I will recover from sense of mortification anon.”

  It was hardly his heart causing momentary embarrassment, the comical side of it all rather amusing. “Come Marigold, a turn around the garden and perhaps, who knows, a letter by return of post will arrive with news from mother.”

  Four

  ~

  It was nearing ten of evening and although supper was at end they were still seated at the dining table, its ambience of flickering candles, sparkling glassware, and highly polished mahogany upper, all in stark contrast to the more sober atmosphere of the room. After all, it was quite disconcerting to have stern learned men of law in portraits peering down at them from the walls, their robes and wigs markedly that
of judges, not to mention a large stone fireplace with lion dog irons glaring at diners. The whole embodied a masculine feel and more in keeping with the law courts, or the chancery, her father’s working environment, as seen on one visit in company with her father. Averting her eyes from the silent watchers, and with few possessions to speak of, Erica continued in her attempt to persuade the earl and Pembrey that she and Marigold might well be able to enter Frampton Manor by way of the second staircase, whilst he and Pembrey could stand guard in the passageway

  “Can we not even try to retrieve at least a few items to see me and Marigold through a few days, until mother replies to our letter? It would make life more pleasant, for I really do not relish wearing this dress a day longer than necessary.”

  “I don’t like the idea at all,” said the earl, swilling brandy around in a goblet cupped to his hand. “As I said, I am more than able to provide for your needs, no matter how many outfits you think advisable for the journey to Suffolk. Besides, my plan to spirit you away from here in the interim, is a sound one.”

  “I agree; your plan merits a successful outcome.”

  He sat forward, the goblet placed to the table, his green eyes earnest in appealing for good sense, and for her to abide to his concerns for hers, and Marigold’s safety. “If I were to concede to your mad venture, then the fewer we are in number within Frampton house, the better.”

  “I will be happy to stay on the field side of the orchard wall,” intoned Marigold, “for I shall be of more use there. I truly fear I would lose my nerve if I were to hear voices in the gardens or the arbour.”

  Pembrey chuckled, and said: “And I shall do wall duty, and pass the bags down to you.”

  “Then we go it alone,” said the earl.

  Casting her attention to Derby, it was not the first time she had sensed him watching her, but it was the first time the intensity of his gaze implied more than mere attention to the planning and detail of her proposed action. Were he of lesser rank, she would be minded to his kindness as meaningful interest. But deep inside a warning bell repeatedly rang out beware, he is what he is, and you could easily become a momentary distraction. Men such as he never married brides with paltry dowries, they married young ladies of equal standing; and family alliances were oft more important than love and romance. Her father’s edict for her to marry Farnley, a man with a knighthood, the arrangement was therefore socially apt for Sir George Townsend’s daughter to wed Sir Tarquin Farnley. There was little hope for the likes of her to wed above her station, for such was a rare event indeed.

  “Are we agreed?” said Derby, reaching across to clasp her hand. “And if for some reason I say abort, you scarper whilst I protect your back.”

  ”Agreed.”

  A gentle squeeze of her hand preceded a charming and captivating smile. “Then we shall venture forth in one hour, and on the morrow at eleven of morn we’ll away to Bath.”

  “Well then,” said Pembrey; edging his chair back from the table, “shall we depart and make ready, and meet in the hallway on the dot of eleven?”

  “Yes, my love, we shall,” replied Marigold.

  “Good, and Durston and Harper, my trusty coachman and groom will be out front by then waiting with the dogcart and Derby’s curricle. Better to take two nifty conveyances as opposed to the landau. We may have to sprint away from Frampton at speed, if by misfortune; we’re rumbled by your father. If that should come to pass, I shall make secondary arrangements as temporary safe haven.”

  Marigold shivered at thought of failure. “Oh lordy, I do hope nothing goes awry.”

  “Nor I,” said he, making for the door.

  And so it was they left the dining room and retired to respective bedchambers, each for their own needs and to dress in readiness for the risqué venture.

  ~

  Having traversed the orchard she had quite expected to see lanterns ablaze within the gardens and arbour, but merely lights in the drawing room and several upper chambers in the main section of the house were visible. Laughter occasionally reached out to them as they circumnavigated beneath a full moon lighting their path, both keeping to the shadows as best they could. The dark blue lightweight fine weave cloak Derby had purchased that morning, helped in shrouding her pale green dress. He likewise in wearing dark attire and but a shadow close behind her.

  It was agreed they speak not a word throughout the task of entering the house, and they were at the nursery doorway and the door was unlocked as it always was, for the ruling of the nursery wing had always been that it must remain accessible from inside and outside in case of fire. Despite the outer door creaked a little when opened, the real challenge came with ascending the stairway unheard, for the slightest of sound was amplified beneath the vaulted ceiling. Guided by moonlight casting through a circular window halfway up the stairs they were soon at the entrance to the dark corridor.

  She reached behind her and searched for his hand, and thence counting the paces she knew so well she guided him along the centre of the corridor and straight to her bedchamber. Once they were inside again they had moonlight to see their way. Without preamble she gathered belongings and placed them on the bed, whilst he stayed guarding the door and thus his eyes to the corridor.

  The difficulty came in finding a carpet bag she was so sure had lain in a corner for a good while but it simply wasn’t there. Its disappearance set her heart palpitating in fear her father had thought she might well attempt to steal away clothes, but if that was so, would he not have barred the door in some way, for the keys to the lock had long since disappeared.

  There was no time to think, for she had yet to collect items for Marigold from her bedchamber, which was one door back toward the stairway. Turning back toward the bed she hauled pillows free of embroidered pillow shams and rolled clothes and folded and filled the two shams. In the doing of she prayed her haul would suffice despite clothes were left strewn across the bed. Tapping Derby on the shoulder, she leaned close and whispered: “We have to go to the next chamber. I’ll go ahead and leave the door wide so that you can see the way.”

  He stepped aside, noted the pillow shams and took both from her grasp, thus allowing her to slip through the doorway. In haste she entered Marigold’s chamber, and heart racing she searched for her sister’s carpet bag and found it beneath the bed. On rising with it to hand she saw Derby glide into the room, his presence reassuring and proof no one was in, or near their corridor. With the same frenetic activity she gathered similar essential items Marigold would require and thence when the carpet bag was full they were ready to leave.

  All but a few strides to the stairwell, it was less easy with Derby carrying a cumbersome bag and a bulky pillow sham, than when they had stolen into the house. Nonetheless, they made it down to the outer door and no mishaps. At the foot of the stairs he whispered, “Well done,” and kissed her brow.

  As unexpected as the kiss was, what followed was even more unexpected, for whilst hastening along the shorter route past the darkened arbour to the lower path which led to the orchard, a guttural manly cough strafed the silence of the garden. With no alternative but to slip into the darkened interior of the floral bedecked arbour, the scent of summer jasmine and honeysuckle hung heady on the ether, until a waft of tobacco smoke drifted in their direction.

  Someone was out and about, but for what reason?

  Footsteps grew louder, voices too. Fearing the worst, that they would soon be discovered she shrank further into the shadows, and tucked her pillow sham inside her cloak. Derby likewise in realisation of imminent exposure placed his pillow sham on the seat and hid it behind the carpet bag. Standing with his back to her, his body shielding her from view to those advancing, his body pressing against her, thus they remained, and heart thudding she listened to the two men conversing. The banter was of no consequence, neither man searching for her or Derby as the men set to in declaring preference for Kent ale and its potency as opposed to the ale at the nearby inn. They were, it seemed, merely patrollin
g the gardens, noticeably armed with sporting guns slung to their shoulders. The smell of tobacco grew stronger, and then the pair, but a few paces distant, turned and retraced their former steps.

  In silence she and Derby waited, the stillness of night once again embracing them and she doubted not his heart was pounding as much as hers. The sheer relief of having indeed escaped discovery she leaned into him, resting her face between his shoulder blades in silent thank you. The citrus tang of his toilette cologne mingling with the delicate perfume of jasmine and heady scent of honeysuckle was utterly intoxicating, his whispered response endearing: “My pleasure, Erica.”

  Letting slip a sigh of relief she hadn’t stepped beyond the bounds of propriety, she straightened up in readiness to continue her flight to freedom. He likewise turned to gather up the sham and carpet bag, but somehow, in the doing of they collided, and the arbour seat pressed against the back of her knees and she tumbled backwards her rump to the seat. He proffered his hand and duly hauled her up and onto her feet, the force thus propelling her into his waiting embrace intended to steady her balance. She couldn’t have said if asked, how the kiss happened, but it did. And breathless in its captivating wake she fell speechless.