His Bluestocking Bride_A Regency Romance

by Sally Britton

  Marcus spoke into the silence, his voice softer. “I have no intention of entering into a romantic relationship again. I have risked my heart and lost it. I will not promise you more than a fair partnership, working together to build a life which serves a purpose. Building an estate we can leave our children. Assisting our tenants to do the same for their children.” He turned to face her, expression earnest.

  “You will never want for safety, protection, or companionship. I will be an honorable husband and one day a good father to any children we have. I ask that you honor our vows in the same manner. We’ve grown up together. We can be friends. But that is all I can give you.”

  Ellen’s heart cracked with each word. To be loved, the thing she most desired, would remain outside of her reach.

  She took in a breath and closed her eyes. “I understand.”

  Ellen rose and ran her hand down her skirts to straighten them and smooth out the ripples from sitting. It took her a moment to build the courage to look up again, meeting Marcus’s light brown eyes.

  “I have pondered your proposal and I appreciate your forthrightness on the subject. If you are certain you could be content with me as your wife, I’d like to accept your offer and give you my hand in marriage.”

  The serious look he wore changed to an expression of shock, then melted into relief.

  Marcus crossed the room to take up her hands. “Thank you, Ellen. You are a wonderful woman. I will do all in my power to make you happy.” He lifted one hand and kissed it, his lips brushing the bare skin of her knuckles.

  Ellen’s heart shuddered but she ignored it, pushed her feelings aside, and gently retrieved her hand from him. “Though I am past the age of majority, I would ask that you speak to my father for his blessing.”

  “I will go and obtain it at once.” He walked to the door, giving his words surprising immediacy.

  Ellen’s heart stuttered. Anxiety struck her. “At once?”

  Marcus paused at the doorway and turned back to her, his customary smile in place. “Why delay? If I speak to him now, we can read the banns this Sunday and be married after Christmas.”

  She balked at his words, her heart racing. “After Christmas? But that’s four weeks away!” She shut her mouth abruptly when his eyebrows drew together. The smile remained but he looked confused with her hesitation. “It is not a great deal of time, is all,” she stammered. “What of your mother? Your brother? I should like our families to attend.”

  He came back into the room a few steps. “I think it should do, barring a bad turn in the weather. Ellen, what need have we to wait? If we marry before January we can go to London for the season as husband and wife. It will mean less gossip on the part of society. And you will have a London season at last.”

  Ellen forced a smile. His reasoning made sense for an arrangement such as theirs. “I suppose the very idea of marriage has taken me by surprise. Are you really leaving now?”

  “As quickly as my valet can pack a bag for me. I’ll send to the stables to have them ready my horse. I will be there and back again in next to no time.” He half-bowed and whirled on his heel to make for the door but stopped at the threshold. “I suppose I should also dash off a note to Mother. She will want to speak to you and make arrangements.”

  Ellen nodded and raised both hands, making a shooing motion. “Go on, then. You might make it halfway to Oak Lodge before nightfall.” Although she wished to say something cleverer, something to make Marcus smile, she bit her lip and watched him leave, this time making it out the door and away from her sight. She waited a few moments longer, to be sure he would not return, before collapsing onto the sofa, all energy drained from her.

  While she ought to have been happier than she had ever been, though she should have been rejoicing in obtaining what had been a dream, Ellen experienced a heavy sensation upon her fragile heart, a weight of disappointment instead of the elation she always thought marriage would bring.

  It should have been flattering how quickly he wished to gain her father’s blessing and have the banns read. But Marcus wanted his inheritance secured. He wanted the wedding behind them when they went to London, to avoid gossip and save them both the bother of a society-sanctioned wedding.

  It would not be the marriage she dreamed of for herself in the years before accepting spinsterhood. There would be no spring flowers to decorate a church vestibule. No specially made gown.

  Instead, she would pick her favorite dress, add lace where she could, perhaps borrow her mother’s pearls, and invite those who would be near enough to attend. Dorothea would not come with a young babe at home. But the others would be there.

  Ellen didn’t know how long she sat in the library, thinking through her wedding plans and mentally composing a letter to her family. It could not have been long, because Marcus came back into the room with as much haste as he’d left, dressed in travelling clothes with a large coat draped over one arm.

  Though her posture had slumped in the time she sat there, she didn’t straighten upon his reappearance and stared at him, allowing herself to take in his handsome face and the dimple in his left cheek when he grinned at her.

  “Haven’t moved, have you?” he asked cheerfully. “I have informed Collin of my departure and its reasons. I think Marianne will likely swoop down upon you if you remain out in the open. Have you any message to send your family? Anything I can tell them?” His eyebrows raised and he leaned forward slightly, anticipating her words.

  Ellen knew she ought to send word of her happiness or give them her love, but she shook her head. “I will not burden you with extra words. Your presence will be confusing enough. You are welcome to tell them I accepted your proposal with no reservations. That ought to help, I think.”

  His eyebrows drew together, his lips pursed slightly. “Confusing?”

  “I think my family planned to keep me to themselves for the foreseeable future.” She straightened at last and came to her feet. She saw his cravat looked rumpled. Almost she stepped forward to fix it, but instead she dropped her hands. Fixing a damaged cravat did not sound like something a wife of convenience ought to do. He would muss it while riding, at any rate.

  “I will bid you a safe journey, Mr. Calvert.” She kept her words light, but she could not entirely bring herself to call him by his Christian name.

  “Thank you.” His confusion cleared, he bowed once more. “I take my leave of you, Miss Bringhurst.” He grinned as he said her name, as though it was a joke between them. Marcus disappeared from the room in another instant and she heard the echo of his boots in the entryway before the large front door of the estate slammed shut.

  The house remained silent for several moments and Ellen wondered what she would tell Marianne or anyone else of how her engagement had transpired.

  Chapter Eight

  Riding through the night was not an option, but Marcus made it more than halfway to his destination without having to strain his horse. The coaching inn where he found a room was comfortable enough, but he was up before the sun and on the road again.

  The sooner he procured permission for Ellen’s hand, the better. If he could have the banns read in each of their respective parishes by the coming Sunday, they could marry on December twenty-ninth, before the year was out.

  The long ride gave him time to think. While he rushed through his last conversation with Ellen, it did not escape his notice she appeared less than enthusiastic when accepting his proposal. When he went over in his mind all they said, each detail he shared, he understood why.

  Collin and Marianne told him how practical Ellen was, and he remembered her being an exceptionally level-headed girl, but at one point she must have had dreams of how her wedding would be, what sort of man she would marry.

  Reality had a way of putting aside dreams as easily as an adult putting away a child’s playthings.

  He arrived at Oak Lodge shortly after the household had taken breakfast. The butler informed him, with nary a smile, that only the Bringhurs
t gentlemen were at home. This suited Marcus perfectly.

  He was shown into a comfortable study, where a fire burned high and warm, and father and son worked bent over a table. They straightened as he was announced and returned his bow.

  Never, Marcus thought, had two men looked so confused.

  “I am sorry to arrive unannounced, Mr. Bringhurst.” Marcus came closer to the table, trying not to smile when the two continued to stare at him. “I know it’s been many years since we’ve met. I believe Master Reginald was still a boy, no more than ten, at the time.”

  Reginald Bringhurst collected himself, recognition dawning in his eyes. “Ah, yes! Cousin Collin’s friend. We met when I went to Aunt Falkham’s with Dorothea and Ellen one summer.” He held his hand out and Marcus shook it firmly. “Father, this is Mr. Calvert, the brother of Lord Calvert, Earl of Annesbury. He and Lord Falkham have been friends for years.”

  Even when coming to ask for a lady’s hand, he was known first and foremost as the younger brother of an earl. Though it irked him, Marcus kept smiling.

  “Ah, yes. The years have seen you grow into a fine man, Mr. Calvert. I did not know you at all. Still more of a boy when last we met.” The father now extended his hand and shook Marcus’s heartily. “Any friend of our family is most welcome. Are you in the neighborhood for a time?”

  Marcus, amused by his welcome, tried to anticipate the confusion Ellen said he would stir with his errand. “No, I plan to leave again after my horse is rested. I have come from the Falkhams’ home, actually.”

  The older man nodded. “Please, Mr. Calvert, sit. Tell us what brings you here.”

  Marcus waited until his host was sitting behind the desk to take a chair across from him. Reginald leaned against the table and folded his arms, frowning. Though the youth had no part in this conversation, Marcus saw no reason to dismiss him from the room.

  Marcus sat on the edge of his seat, leaning forward slightly. “I have come with a very particular mission, Mr. Bringhurst. One which involves your daughter, Miss Bringhurst. Though you may not know it, we often spent time together as children. She joined Collin and I in our games.”

  “What has any of that to do with your visit today?” The father scratched his chin and sat back more comfortably in his chair. “Has she sent us a message through you? Is she in good health?”

  “Miss Bringhurst is in excellent health,” Marcus assured him, repressing his smile as best he could. “I have come to ask your blessing on a marriage between Miss Bringhurst and myself.”

  Reginald took in a sharp breath. His father stared, eyes wide. The man opened his mouth and closed it no less than three times, preparing to speak, only to stop himself. He did not wear a smile and while the look of confusion was brief, it was not replaced with anything more pleasant.

  “I am sorry,” Marcus said, looking from father to son. “I have given you a shock. I did not expect that.” Indeed, he had expected a moment of surprise, then either a line of severe questioning or else happy congratulations.

  “You have asked Ellen?” Reginald said when it became clear his father must gather his thoughts. “She accepted you.”

  “Yes.” Marcus directed the answer to the lad, who did smile. At least someone was happy for Ellen.

  “Ellen accepted?” Mr. Bringhurst repeated quietly, drawing Marcus’s attention back to him. “I’m surprised. I thought she had no wish to marry.”

  “You did?” Marcus’s eyebrows raised. “I’m certain she liked the idea once it was presented.” What sort of father would expect his daughter would not wish to have a husband and home of her own?

  Sighing heavily, the older gentleman looked to his son. “This is unexpected. Do you know anything of Ellen’s wishes?” He turned back to Marcus before the young man could answer. “And how long have you been courting her without my knowledge?”

  Ah, a protective father was someone Marcus understood. “It is unexpected for everyone involved, but I hope it is pleasant news. I am in need of a wife. Miss Bringhurst and I happened to be present at the Falkhams’ home at the same time, we renewed our acquaintance, and I put the question to her. I find your daughter to be an intelligent, practical sort who meets my requirements for my wife perfectly. I offered her my name and protection, she accepted, on the condition we receive your permission and blessing.” He shrugged. “I have written a note to the steward of the estate I will inherit after marriage. He will be sending an accounting of all that I hold by courier, so you may look over things and be assured that your daughter will be well provided for as my wife.”

  “Being related to an earl will help her in society, too, Father.” Reginald came forward to stand behind his father’s chair, a half-smile on his face. “Think what this will mean for Ellen. A home of her own, a family. She need not be uncertain of her future.”

  “Uncertain?” The man blustered, looking up at his offspring and back to Marcus, his eyes wide. “How could she be uncertain? Many families have an unmarried miss who is welcome in every home. She would reside here, throughout the life of her parents. Then possibly go to one of her sisters, should you and your future wife not require her.”

  Marcus listened in shock. While his suit had not been denied, it certainly wasn’t being accepted.

  “Mr. Bringhurst, have you objections to my engagement to your daughter? If so, I would like to know. You are keeping me in some suspense.” He tapped the arm of the chair, impatient with the man and his strange vision for Ellen’s future.

  The father stood and paced to the window and back, shaking his head all the while. “I cannot think of a good reason to deny you. I should like to talk to Ellen in person, to be certain of her mind. I give my blessing, contingent on hearing from her this is what she wishes. Reginald, go back with Mr. Calvert as my envoy. Send word on what you find your sister’s state of mind to be. If she is well, then we will proceed.”

  Marcus stood. “Then we must go at once. Have you fresh horses? I would like mine to rest.”

  Reginald looked surprised. “But you just arrived.”

  “I know. I would like the banns to be read as soon as possible, in both our parishes as custom dictates. I wish to marry before Parliament convenes.”

  “A man who knows his own mind. I suppose that is something.” Mr. Bringhurst nodded. “Yes, yes. Take our horses. I will dispatch a letter to Ellen’s mother to apprise her of the situation. Please, take some refreshment while Reginald prepares for the journey. Quick, boy. Mustn’t keep a prospective groom waiting.” He sighed deeply and shook his head again. “Very strange business, but nothing should surprise me anymore. Four daughters, married. That will be a feather in Mrs. Bringhurst’s cap.”

  “Indeed.” Marcus settled back into his seat. Mr. Bringhurst said little else.

  Marcus’s body might not thank him for the long hours on horseback, but he would happily travel twice the distance to ensure his future with Ellen and Orchard Hill.

  Chapter Nine

  The week following Marcus’s return with Reginald in tow kept couriers and the postal coach busy travelling between Ellen and her family. Her mother wrote to her, a short missive.

  Your sister’s time has not arrived yet, and I do not think it will for a fortnight. If such is the case, I may not be able to attend your wedding. I do not understand Mr. Calvert’s haste, but he must have his reasons. You will do well as his wife and will be a credit to the family. I give you my blessing. Be happy, Ellen.

  Ellen’s heart fell as she read it, though she recognized her mother’s difficult position. A wedding could be gotten through without much anxiety but the same could not be said for childbirth.

  Her father would give her away. And Reginald, and her elder sisters, would be present.

  They had yet to leave for Oak Lodge, though Marcus had delivered Reginald and left the next day to see to the business of their marriage. He would make certain the banns were posted and read, begin work on the legal documents, and see to it Orchard Hill would be ready for him
to take possession.

  Ellen would have left for home and her own preparations, but Marcus’s mother had announced her intention to call upon Ellen at the Falkham home. Which made sense. Her father was not able to entertain nobility in their house without his wife present, but Collin and Marianne had room and were delighted to host a dowager countess.

  Marcus took the time to inform Ellen of that visit before he left to see his steward and solicitor to draw up contracts, the bridal agreement, and check into his affairs to arrange matters before they appeared before the vicar.

  Ellen felt more upside-down than anything. Her only comfort was being with Marianne and Reginald as one letter after another arrived and preparations were made for her future mother-in-law to arrive. Marcus’s brother sent his congratulations and accepted her invitation to attend the wedding.

  Lady Calvert, of course, knew full well why Marcus and Ellen rushed to be wed. She had tightened the purse strings and threatened him into matrimony. The woman might, however, take one look at Ellen and retract the conditions or change them if she found Marcus’s choice undesirable.

  Ellen didn’t think Lady Calvert to be especially cruel or underhanded, as all her memories of the woman were pleasant. But the irrational idea that she would be rejected at once took hold. It took Reginald’s cheery disposition and Marianne’s kind words to keep her from pacing from morning to night.

  The carriage bearing the Earl of Annesbury’s crest arrived on December the tenth, two days after the banns had been read. Alerted by the staff, Ellen, Marianne, Collin, and Reginald all waited on the steps for the stately dowager countess to descend from her vehicle and pass judgment upon the prospective bride.

  Marianne subtly squeezed Ellen’s hand as they stood, watching the Countess emerge wearing a dark purple traveling suit, complete with a hat festooned in black feathers. The woman descended regally and looked up at them with a surprisingly pleasant countenance.

  Collin bowed deeply, with Reginald following suit while the women curtsied. “Welcome, Lady Calvert,” he said formally. “Please, allow me—"