‘Lord Dellamont, what a surprise!’ she said, her eyes seeming to rove over him with as much hunger as his were inspecting her. ‘Are you investigating potential investments in the area?’
‘Nothing to do with railways.’
‘Then why are you here?’ she asked, motioning him to towards the sofa.
Too nervous to sit, he said, ‘I think you know why I’m here.’
‘After discovering that my family had left London, you came here to...investigate continuing our friendship?’
‘I want much more than that now. It’s my dearest hope that perhaps you now want that, too.’
In his rosy imaginings, at this point, she threw herself into his arms and declared she’d come to realise she loved him, too. Instead, unsmiling, with a sudden reserve that sent a wave of panic through him, she said, ‘If I understand your meaning, you are envisioning something more formal and...permanent?’
Swallowing hard, he nodded.
‘If that is true, then what has changed? I seem to recall you were determined to avoid wedlock.’
‘I was opposed to wedlock in general. But when I think about spending my life with you, all I see is...joy. Joy and enthusiasm and a richness I’d never experienced until I started sharing the things that matter most to me with you. A joy and richness that, like a lackwit, I didn’t fully appreciate until we parted.’
‘So this time, you come to me motivated by more than just honour?’
‘When I proposed before, although my heart was urging me to it even then, I was not quite able to push myself to offer you a full commitment. I’ve told you what kind of childhood I had. Fights, arguments, constant brangling. How could I let myself in for that? With no experience of anything else, how could I guarantee I would not revert to that pattern and drag you down into it? So I resisted, even though I knew you were different. That we shared more interests and were more in harmony than I’ve ever been with anyone else, even my closest friends. At first, suffering through the chill and despondency of leaving you, I tried to tell myself it would get better. That after I began to forget the delight of being with you almost daily, I’d become my old self again. Be content in my solitude again.’
‘But you weren’t.’
‘No. The misery just got worse.’
She nodded. ‘I told myself the same thing. But the sense of loss and hopelessness didn’t abate for me either. No matter how much I tried to tell myself that marrying an aristocrat, cutting myself off from my background and any association with the engineering world, would mean only heartache.’
‘So...you would now be willing to face that?’
‘I might be...for a man who could offer his whole heart. Just as I would be willing to offer mine.’
‘I had to come back to you, Marcella, but I can’t claim there’s no longer any risk. That I am certain I can make you happy for a lifetime.’
‘No one can claim that. We must make our own happiness, together. By weathering whatever comes, good fortune or ill. As my parents did. It could have destroyed them when they lost my brother and my mother was unable to bear another son. But they drew together, accepted it, neither blaming the other, and went on. Never forgetting the loss. But not letting the tragedy master them.’
‘That’s the kind of bond I would like to have, too. With you.’
She smiled then. ‘Good.’
His confidence increased at that encouragement, but before he could drop to his knees and deliver the proposal he’d come to offer, she held out a hand, halting him.
‘Then before you say anything more, you need to speak with someone else.’
‘Ah, yes. Do it properly this time. Ask your father for permission to address you.’
‘No, better to ask my grandda. The one whose wealth propelled us to make our first bargain should approve the possibility of a new one. I’ll take you to him.’
* * *
She led him upstairs, then knocked at a door. ‘Grandda, are you busy?’
‘Never too busy to see my little lass,’ the reply came before the door opened.
A tall, grey-haired man with his granddaughter’s bright green eyes stood on the threshold, his smile fading when he spied Crispin. Noting the powerful build, weathered face and shrewd expression, Crispin could easily believe this man, who’d begun as a boy wrestling coal from the bowels of earth, had persevered to invent and market machines that had earned him wealth and title.
‘Who is this young man?’ he demanded.
‘Grandda, may I introduce Crispin d’Aubignon, Viscount Dellamont. My grandfather, Sir Thomas Webbingdon.’
Noting Marcella had introduced him to her grandfather, rather than the higher title to the lesser one, Crispin suppressed a smile. The Earl would have been livid at being accorded lower status. The introduction just confirmed to him in what exceptional regard Marcella held Sir Thomas.
The entrepreneur waved them into the room and towards chairs placed in front of his desk. The dark-panelled library was full of books, the desk littered with papers that indicated Sir Thomas was still fully engaged in business enterprises. A fire burned low on the hearth where a mantel clock ticked, and from the large window on the side wall, Crispin caught a distant view of the sea.
‘What would a viscount be wanting with my granddaughter?’ the man’s gruff question recalled him.
‘I want your permission to ask her to marry me.’
Sir Thomas frowned. ‘Why should I grant ye her hand? She weren’t happy in London. My fault, I shouldn’t have supported her ma in sending her there. From my own dealings, I know how yer kind treat those not born among them. Ye would ask her to go back to that?’
‘Have you told him about the bargain?’ Crispin asked her.
‘No,’ she said, blushing. ‘You tell him.’
After nodding to her, he turned to Sir Thomas. ‘I don’t normally attend London society. My father pushed me to court the “Factory Heiress” for her dowry. I wasn’t inclined to comply, but if I agreed, the Earl promised to allow my mother, whom he usually isolates in the country, to remain in London and participate in the Season she loves. At the time, I had no idea that your granddaughter, who impressed me very much when I met her in Bristol, was in fact the “Factory Heiress”.’
‘I was very impressed with him, too,’ Marcella broke in to say.
Smiling at that tribute, Crispin continued, ‘At my first ball, I was astonished to encounter Marcella. After we chatted and discovered we had both become embroiled in society to honour the wishes of family, we made a pact. I would pretend to court her, placating my father and allowing my mother time in London. While my courting her would discourage fortune hunters and dissuade the malicious from slighting her. No one would wish to offend a lady who might one day be a countess. We agreed we’d maintain the deception for a month or so, then part as friends and return to our former lives.’
‘I heard yer father the Earl has been struggling with decreased income from agricultural properties.’
Crispin shrugged. ‘I’ve been making other investments, so I will not be as dependent on income from land. The wealth of the future will come from other sources.’ He smiled. ‘As you well know, sir.’
Sir Thomas nodded. ‘I’ve heard about yer investments. Men can lose everything counting on foolishness, but ye seem to have a good head on yer shoulders. Ye’ve made sound decisions.’
Crispin looked up, surprised. Had this captain of industry investigated him?
As if to confirm that, Sir Thomas continued, ‘I may be an old man, but I still have my finger on the pulse of what’s happening. I’m no nob neither, but I have eyes and ears that let me know what’s happening in society. So I know this bargain of yourn didn’t protect Marcella.’
Her face paling, Marcella looked at her grandfather, stricken. ‘You...you know why I left?’
‘Don’t ye be
going all sad-eyed, lass. I know what was said about ye was foul rubbish.’ Turning to Crispin, frowning, he accused, ‘Ye did nothing to rescue her good name.’
‘Don’t think that fact doesn’t gall me still! I couldn’t call the bounder out. That would only confirm the rumours. I did ask your granddaughter to marry me, but she refused.’
‘Did she now?’ Addressing Marcella, he said, ‘Why are ye bringing him here now, if ye refused him once, missy?’
‘Because he only asked me out of honour.’
Her grandfather nodded. ‘A good enough reason for a gentleman. But honour wasn’t enough for ye?’
‘No.’ She looked over at Crispin. ‘He must ask out of love. And promise me everything.’
Her grandfather smiled at that before his face hardened. ‘I looked into this baron who tried to ruin ye. Bought up all his debts, called them in. Given the option of debtors’ prison or resettling abroad, he was encouraged to take the trip overseas. Before leaving, he’s to publish an account in all the London newspapers, confessing he made up the story to discredit the heiress so he might get her dowry once she had no choice left but to marry him. Then he’ll be gone from England and can trouble ye both no more.’
The old man looked at Crispin, a twinkle in his eyes. ‘Ye see, there are advantages to not being born a gentleman. Ye don’t have to play by their rules.’
‘Bravo, sir! Thank you for doing what I could not.’
‘But what about society? I’m not a green ’un, to believe some print in the newspapers will remove all the taint from my granddaughter’s name.’
‘Don’t think she’ll be isolated. In lieu of the ton, I can offer Marcella the society of a small group of good friends who will accept and welcome her. Friends whom I think she will find interesting, who will appreciate her exceptional talents. One just married a woman who is a translator of ancient Greek. Another friend’s younger brother wed a woman who runs a boarding school for disadvantaged girls, and his sister is a good friend of one of Marcella’s schoolmates from Miss Axminster’s.’
‘Remember I told you about Emma Henley, how kind she was to me?’ Marcella asked.
‘Ah, that odd female and her friends who weren’t interested in tittle-tattle about suitors, claiming they didn’t want to marry and would be reformers instead?’
‘Yes, those are the ones.’
‘Silly women. Girls must marry. Need husbands to protect them.’
‘Maybe for now, Grandda,’ Marcella argued. ‘But not for always. Forging new paths, one day women will be able to carve their own futures, independent of men.’
‘That day isn’t here yet, lass,’ he said, shaking a finger at her. ‘So, you think ye will be accepted and happy with these friends of Dellamont’s?’
‘I think they sound wonderful and intriguing.’
‘But what her about duties as a countess?’ Webbingdon turned to ask Crisipin. ‘I understand she’ll be expected to attend court, go to balls and all those fancy to-dos she so dislikes.’
Crispin shrugged. ‘She’ll be a countess. She can do whatever she wants.’
Sir Thomas laughed. ‘I’m beginning to think I like ye, lad. As for you, missy, ye didn’t want him before. Do ye think now he will make ye happy?’
‘I think now he’s all I ever wanted,’ she said softly.
Crispin felt such a soaring rise of hope, he almost didn’t hear her grandfather’s next words.
‘If he’s an earl’s son he don’t need your dowry. Will he still marry ye without it?
‘Grandda!’ Marcella protested, her face going scarlet.
‘Keep the dowry. She is all I want.’ He turned to face Marcella. ‘All I’ll ever want.’
Sir Thomas’s expression softened. ‘Better go ask her then, lad. And that dowry? I expect ye can have that, too—if she says yes.’
* * *
Her hand on his arm, Crispin walked with Marcella out to the garden. ‘This way,’ she said, linking her fingers with his and leading him down a path bordered by great swathes of early tulips and stands of daffodil and crocus. ‘Walk with me in the place I love most.’
‘It’s beautiful here. I understand why you love it.’
‘Grandda loved it first. This garden was the main reason he bought this house. He could have had newer, larger, fancier manors in Tynemouth or in Newcastle itself. But he was captivated by this place, the distant whisper of the sea, the hint of salt in the air, and the extensive gardens. Working in the mines, in blackness stinking of coal, Grandda vowed when he made his fortune, he would surround himself with light, colour, and fresh air. And he did.’
She stopped by a bench surrounded by a great intertwined mass of rambling roses, not yet in bloom. Crispin could hear the distant roar of the surf, while sharp salt-scented air filled his head.
‘You would not have agreed to hear me out if your grandfather had forbidden it?’ he asked as he urged her to a seat.
‘I’m not sure,’ she admitted. ‘I love him so dearly it would break my heart to be estranged from him. But it would wound my soul to be estranged from you. I thought being distanced from my family, being forced to deal with your world, would be impossible. But now, I think I can bear anything but losing you.’
Crispin swallowed hard, hearing in those words that he had truly been forgiven. For not continuing to press his suit the first time. For wounding her by accepting her refusal so easily and going off to leave her alone.
Placing her arm on the bench, Marcella gazed around her with fondness. ‘I always feel like the sea air is blowing away worries and cares.’
‘What worries and cares is it blowing away today?’
‘You are here. I have no more worries.’
‘While I have just one. You did refuse me before, you know. But I shall do it properly this time, not just make you a hasty bow in the middle of a garden path.’
Clasping her hand, he went down on one knee. ‘Marcella Cranmore, I love you more than I ever thought it possible to love anyone. My delight and inspiration, will you risk your future and marry me?’
‘Leave my former life without regrets? Even face eventually becoming a countess?’
‘Remember the part about weathering hardships together? I’ll have to be an earl, after all. We can help each other through it.’
‘I can even weather leaving Papa and the office. Which I would have eventually lost anyway, since Papa will some day retire and Gilling didn’t want me there.’
Alarm jolted through Crispin. ‘You...spoke with him?’
‘Yes. He made me an offer, actually. But he wanted me to be a conventional wife, and I just couldn’t. Besides, that soul-searching time alone taught me to see the difference between my childhood affection for him, and what I felt for you.’
‘Affection, but not passion?’ he guessed.
‘Not for him.’
‘Thank heaven,’ he said, breathing out a sigh that made her laugh. ‘But since you’ve still not relieved my anxiety by saying “yes”, let me add one more inducement. It might not be appropriate for my wife to work in an engineer’s office, but I would like her to work in a similar capacity—as my engineering advisor. I have only a rudimentary grasp of the mathematical principles involved in constructing sound and safe bridges, tunnels and viaducts. I watched you at Stephenson’s lecture. It was clear you understood everything, even the most technical discussion. I want you to accompany me when I go out to inspect railway ventures. Ride the routes with me, look at the technical drawings and decide on the efficiency and feasibility of what’s being planned. It won’t be like running your own engineering office, I know—’
Face alight, she threw her arms around him, interrupting, ‘It will be wonderful! You’ll let me be a real advisor, reading diagrams, calculating angles and slope? Doing all but overseeing actual construction?’
Crispin grinned. ‘I h
aven’t yet figured out a way for you to do that.’
‘Yes, yes and a thousand times, yes! I love you to distraction and I will marry you, my darling Crispin!’
‘One “yes” will do nicely.’
Then he pulled her into his arms, pouring his relief and passion into a kiss that promised all the delights to come, for as long as both should live.
* * *
If you enjoyed this story, be sure to read the first
book in Julia Justiss’s Heirs in Waiting miniseries
The Bluestocking Duchess
And whilst you’re waiting for the next book, why not check out her The Cinderella Spinsters miniseries
Awakening Miss Henley
The Tempting of the Governess
The Enticing of Miss Standish
And look out for the next book in the
Heirs in Waiting miniseries, coming soon!
Keep reading for an excerpt from How to Wed a Courtesan by Madeline Martin.
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How to Wed a Courtesan
by Madeline Martin
Chapter One
June 1816, London, England
The ring on the table required an answer.
Lottie turned away from it so abruptly that the hem of her skirt snapped against the Brussels weave carpet in her parlour. Her pulse beat heavily in her ears.
This was what she had wanted. Years ago. When she’d been a girl. But she was no longer that girl. She was a woman.
One who understood the effects of love.
One who had sacrificed far too much.
She hadn’t even opened the box yet. Not that it mattered. The jewel within was of little consequence. She had a good deal of wealth. She could purchase her own bloody ring.
The Railway Countess Page 24