Silas sighed. “Well, there is nothing I can do about that. Luc is a gambler and a damned good one.” He shot Sophia a keen look. “She does remember how I came to own High Tower, doesn’t she? Surely, that should be a reminder that not all gamblers are like her husband. Or does she put me in the same category?”
Sophia shook her head, smiling. “She adores you and never gives your gambling a thought. We both agreed that it was a tragedy that the young man who gambled away his inheritance committed suicide, but that wasn’t your fault.” She tapped her lip. “She may be reluctant to marry Luc, but she did sleep with him... .”
Silas brightened. “Of course, there is that... .”
Luc was aware that Sophia and Meacham would have reported to Silas what they had seen, and he couldn’t pretend that he wasn’t uneasy and a little apprehensive as he knocked on the door to Silas’s library an hour later. His cravat felt as if it was choking him, and guilt stabbed at his vitals. He was very conscious of his betrayal of his friend, but was determined to rectify the situation the only way he could.
Silas managed to keep a stern expression on his face as Luc stood before him and pled his case, but inwardly, it was all he could do not to leap up and slap him on the back and congratulate him. Would he have wished the offer for Gillian’s hand had come about in a more traditional manner? Certainly, but he wasn’t going to repine over the circumstances that saw Gillian married to Luc.
When Luc finished speaking and stood stiffly before him, Silas only tortured him for a few minutes. Unable to hold back the grin that had been threatening to break forth since Luc had entered the room, as it spread across his lined features, Silas exclaimed, “My dear boy! Allow me to be the first to congratulate you.”
“It was very bad of me, Silas,” Luc admitted. “But I swear to you that I will do right by her, and that as my wife, Gillian will never want or be mistreated.” He shook his head. “I have no excuse. It was dishonorable and not the act of a gentleman.”
“Oh, pshaw! Don’t act so namby-pamby, it don’t become you,” retorted Silas. “Yours won’t be the first marriage that came about because you allowed passion to overcome you.” He waved a teasing finger in front of him. “Now if she’d not been married before and had been a decade younger, I might feel differently about it, but as it is ...” Silas beamed. “I’m delighted!”
“She doesn’t want to marry me,” Luc stated baldly.
With Sophia’s words ringing in his ears, Silas smiled slyly. “I suspect that she will change her mind after she’s had a chance to think about it. I’ll talk to her. Make her, ah, see sense.”
Having been requested to see Silas in his library, with far more trepidation and embarrassment than Luc, Gillian entered the room. Her uncle was seated behind his ornate walnut desk, and instead of the condemnation and disappointment she expected to see, there was only affection and kindness in his gaze. “Sit down, my child,” he said, indicating the brown leather chair next to his desk. The skirts of her mulberry woolen gown fluttered around her feet as she settled into the chair. When she looked shyly at him, he smiled and said, “Now tell me what you want to do about this little difficulty before us.”
Gillian had thought of little else since Luc walked out of her room. The idea of marriage to Luc, to anyone, turned her world upside down. She’d never thought to marry again, and if she had, it would have been to some older, staid gentleman—or so she had told herself. She’d never thought to fall in love again, but if she had, she’d have sworn it wouldn’t have been with someone like Luc. Yet, she couldn’t deny what was in her heart. He’d fascinated her almost from the moment she’d laid eyes on him, and she couldn’t pretend that she hadn’t been drawn to him or that her pulse didn’t jump at the sight of him. She’d tried to resist him, reminding herself that, like Charles, he was a gambler and not to be trusted. To no avail, she thought miserably. Luc Joslyn might not be the man she wanted to fall in love with, but willy-nilly she had. She loved him. Regretfully. Unwillingly. Shamefully so. And she very much feared she’d love him forever.
It would be folly to turn her back on him. Foolish folly to spurn what was offered her. Did she tremble at putting her fate in the hands of a man who placed his faith on the turn of a card? Oh yes, she did. But she also realized that life was a gamble and that if she ventured nothing, she gained nothing. In the time she’d paced in her rooms and considered the situation, she’d concluded unhappily that there was just a bit of a gambler in her. Fate demanded that she marry Luc Joslyn and take her chances.
Head bowed, she said softly, “There appears to be nothing for me to do but marry him.” Her gaze met Silas’s. “I will accept his hand in marriage.”
Silas, of course, couldn’t be happier. Once he had her decision, he rang for Meacham and asked his butler to see if Mr. Joslyn would join them. “Oh,” he said as Meacham prepared to leave, “and bring some champagne! We have an engagement to celebrate. Mrs. Dashwood and Mr. Joslyn are to be married.”
Luc took the news expressionlessly and only he knew of the sudden leap of his heart, the keen edge of anticipation that ripped through him at the knowledge that Gillian had agreed to marry him. There were details to be worked out to be sure, and he didn’t pretend that there wouldn’t be rough roads ahead, but the fact remained: before many more days passed, Gillian would be his wife.
Chapter 15
The family gathered in Silas’s library, and though Sophia acted her part, only Stanley was truly astonished by the news of the engagement. “What? What?” he spluttered. “Gillian and Joslyn? Betrothed? By Jove! How did this come about?” He glanced at Gillian, standing beside Luc, and asked, “Is this some sort of jest?”
“It is no jest,” answered Luc. “Your sister has done me the honor of accepting my hand in marriage. We will be married by special license by the end of the week.”
As taken aback as Stanley by that news, Gillian shot Luc an astounded look, but before she could speak, Silas chimed in with, “Excellent idea, my boy! Excellent!” Guessing Gillian would object, Silas glanced at her and added innocently, “Unless, of course, my dear, you want a large wedding with all the fuss and furbelows like you had when you married Charles.”
It was ham-handed of Silas, but it had the effect he wanted. Gillian’s protests died on her lips. The last thing she wanted were reminders of her marriage to Charles. A special license and the deed quickly done had its appeal. If she was doomed, she thought bitterly, to marry Luc Joslyn, she might as well get it over with.
“Upon my soul!” exclaimed Stanley, further rocked back on his heels by this turn of events. “Have you all gone mad?” Perplexed, he stared at Gillian. “This is extraordinary news. First I hear you are engaged to a man you have hardly known a month, and now I learn that you will be married within a few days.”
With her usual calm, Sophia said, “You may not have been aware of what was happening beneath your nose, but Uncle Silas and I have been very aware of Luc’s courtship of Gillian and have been anticipating an announcement for several days. As for the special license and the length of time they have known each other ...” She shrugged. “Fiddle-dee-dee! They’re neither in the first blush of youth, and they’re old enough to know their own hearts. There is no reason for them to wait and put up with all the nonsense a big wedding would entail.” Over her champagne flute she regarded Stanley. “In fact, I think marriage by special license is the best solution. You wouldn’t want all the gossip and speculation about Gillian’s first husband to arise, now would you?”
Luc hid a grin. Again it was ham-handed, but Sophia had put forth the one argument that would carry weight with Stanley.
Appearing much struck by his cousin’s commonsense attitude toward the situation Stanley nodded. “Yes, yes, of course, I see what you mean.” Forcing a smile, he raised his flute. “A toast! Let us drink a toast to my dear sister and her husband-to-be.”
The toast drunk, not many minutes later the library was empty except for Luc and Silas. Grinni
ng, Silas said, “I think we brushed through that rather well, don’t you?”
Luc half-smiled. “As well as could be expected, but I suspect that Stanley is going to want a private word with me.”
Silas waved a dismissing hand. “As her brother, you can’t blame him, but he’s accepted that you’re going to marry her and that it will be done by special license.” His grin widened. “Gillian accepted the idea of the special license, too.”
“With a bit of maneuvering on your part,” Luc commented dryly.
“Needs must when the devil drives.”
Luc couldn’t argue with him about that. The devil was indeed driving them, but he could not regret it. Telling Barnaby and the rest of the family wasn’t something he looked forward to, though. Gillian’s reputation might cause dissension within his family, but he hoped, after their first astonishment at his news, that it would not cause a fatal breach. If it did, his heart would be torn, but his first loyalty would be to his wife—no matter what the gossips said about her. He would, however, he thought with a grimace, take care that she didn’t murder him.
Thinking of the fate of her first husband, he wondered if perhaps he wasn’t mad. Why else would he be so determined, and he admitted that he was determined, to marry a woman many thought had murdered her husband? Again, the question occurred to him: had she murdered Charles Dashwood? Or was she an innocent condemned by gossip and innuendo? Instinct told him it was the latter, but only a fool would ignore the possibility that his bride-to-bride was a clever murderess. He wished he knew more of the circumstances surrounding Charles Dashwood’s death. It was something he would have to look into ... later.
Luc was persuaded to stay for a light repast before he departed for Ramstone. It can’t be said that it was a comfortable setting, and only Silas and Sophia enjoyed themselves. Throughout the meal Stanley sent confused glances between Gillian and Luc, and Gillian looked more like she was on her way to the guillotine than a woman newly engaged. Luc’s face betrayed nothing other than polite interest in the proceedings.
They finished eating and Luc was on the point of taking his leave when Meacham entered the room. Meacham bowed and murmured, “Lady Joslyn and her great-aunt have come to call.” He cleared his throat. “I put them in the formal salon.”
Caught up in the events of the morning, the proposed visit by Lady Joslyn and Mrs. Townsend had been forgotten, and a dismayed silence met Meacham’s announcement. Luc hadn’t known about it and the news that Emily and Cornelia were here, now, poleaxed him.
Silas recovered first, and rising to his feet, he said heartily, “Splendid! Their arrival could not have been more fortuitous.” Smiling at Gillian and Luc, he urged, “Come! Let us share our good news with them.”
Sophia echoed her uncle’s sentiments. Standing up and shaking out the skirts of her gown, she said, “This couldn’t have worked better, don’t you agree?” She beamed at Luc. “Naturally, you’d want to tell your family right away.”
“Naturally,” Luc murmured. It was his right to marry who and when he pleased, but he hadn’t been looking forward to exploding the news of his sudden engagement in the faces of his relatives, especially not Emily and Cornelia. It had been Emily and Cornelia who had related the gossip about Gillian to him, and only a simpleton would expect them to welcome her into the family without reservations. Their approval or lack thereof changed nothing, but ... He grimaced. The family had to know, and soon, about the changes coming in his life, but he’d have preferred to speak to Barnaby first. Men took such things, he thought wryly, with so much less, ah, commotion.
Wishing he were facing a pair of murderous rogues rather than two women held dear to his heart, Luc walked with the others toward the formal salon. Meacham led the procession, Sophia and Silas next, with Luc and Gillian following them and Stanley coming up in the rear. Reaching their destination, Meacham threw open the double doors and waved the family into the salon.
Emily and Cornelia were seated on a rose damask sofa, and as the others entered they looked up expectantly. Luc’s eyes narrowed at the faint expression of guilt that flashed across both women’s faces when they spied him amongst the Ordways. Now what, he wondered, do they have to feel guilty about?
In the flurry of greetings and initial chatter it soon became apparent to Luc that the female members of his family had been snooping. Amusement flickered through him. Today was certainly going to be a revelation to them.
Allowing Silas to take the lead, beyond dropping a kiss on Cornelia’s and Emily’s cheeks, Luc stood back and watched the proceedings. Sophia and Emily settled in a pair of cream-and green-striped silk chairs across from Cornelia and Emily. Silas selected a high-backed chair in green velvet situated between the sofa and the pair of striped silk chairs; Stanley stood at one end of the fireplace; Luc, an arm resting on the gold-veined marble mantel, lounged at the other.
Silas waited until Meacham had reappeared with refreshments, and once everyone had been served and the butler departed, he said jovially, “You may wonder at being served champagne punch.”
“Yes,” said Cornelia, “we consider it a celebratory beverage.” Having drawn her own conclusions from Luc’s presence, her brow lifted and she asked bluntly, “Are we celebrating something?”
Silas’s eyes twinkled. He’d always liked Cornelia Townsend and admired her quick intelligence. No matter what her feelings about Luc’s engagement to Gillian might be, she would prove an able ally. “As a matter of fact we are,” he said. “Mr. Joslyn has offered for my niece, Mrs. Dashwood, and has been accepted.” He beamed. “You could have knocked me over with a feather: we just learned the news ourselves this morning.”
Emily’s heart sank. Dear, dashing Luc to be married to a suspected murderess! Oh, it was dreadful. And how would Barnaby react when he heard the news? Hiding her dismay and anxiety, she forced a smile. “My, how, how ... exciting. Just this morning, you say?”
Taking a line from Sophia, Luc said, “I know it comes as a surprise, but Gillian and I know what is in our hearts, and at our age we decided that there was no need for a long courtship.”
“Of course,” Cornelia agreed, her sharp hazel eyes on Luc. “You’re both so long in the tooth that you must not squander a moment.”
Luc grinned. “I knew you would understand.”
Knowing when the deck was stacked against her and not wishing to start a rumpus, Cornelia snorted and merely said, “Then let us drink a toast to the engaged couple.” The toast drunk, her gaze shifted to Gillian. Pretty enough gel, she thought, studying Gillian. A little thing and looks as innocent and demure as a novice nun. Staring at the delicate features, the ethereal frame, Cornelia had trouble picturing Gillian as a murderess. But perhaps the wench was exceedingly clever? Or was she a victim of gossip? Hmmm. There was some sleuthing to be done here, Cornelia decided, and with her far-flung net of friends she was just the woman to do it.
Uncomfortable and not very happy with the situation, but determined not to offend Luc, Emily said brightly to Gillian, “Well, this must be a thrilling time for you. My congratulations to you both. Er, when do you expect the wedding will be?”
Luc’s relatives were being polite, but Gillian sensed that neither woman was genuinely pleased with the news that she was to marry Luc. Thinking if positions were reversed that she’d feel much the same, she didn’t blame them, but inwardly she quailed.
They had no reason to clasp her to their bosoms with joy, she admitted. They knew little about her. Mostly likely, she thought, wincing, what they did know wasn’t flattering. Charles’s murder aside, she was a stranger to them, a widow of no particular means or status while Luc’s brother was the Viscount Joslyn, the wealthiest and most powerful man in the area. Oh, and don’t forget, she reminded herself, that Luc had just purchased a handsome estate and would be considered a handsome catch by many. Suspicion of her motives wasn’t surprising, and the idea of telling them that she and Luc would be married by special license only made her heart sink lower.
Now, she thought mournfully, she could add fortune hunter to her title of murderess. Filled with misery, cursing the folly of last night, the weakness that had propelled her into Luc’s arms, it was all she could do not to leap to her feet and run from the room.
Pride and spirit came to her defense, and meeting Emily’s gray gaze, she said, “We had not quite settled the date.” She swallowed painfully and added, “L-L-Luc is obtaining a special license, so I expect it will not be many days off.”
Cornelia choked on her punch. “A special license?” she croaked.
Even more aware than Gillian that Emily and Cornelia were not overwhelmed with happiness at his engagement, Luc strolled over to stand behind Gillian’s chair. His hand resting possessively on Gillian’s shoulder, he regarded his female relatives with blue eyes that held a distinct warning. “Yes,” he said. “We do not want a long engagement; a special license best suits our needs. I intend to ride to London tomorrow.” His eyes dropped to the top of Gillian’s sable hair. “My bride-to-be was naturally reluctant, thinking it unseemly to be married in such a manner, but I convinced her that it was perfectly respectable and that there was no reason to wait. I told her that my family would understand and applaud our decision.” His eyes lifted and he stared levelly across at Emily and Cornelia, daring them to contradict him.
Cutting through the tension that crept into the room, Silas leaned forward, saying genially, “We thought, perhaps, Saturday? That will give Luc time to ride to London to obtain the license and return. And, of course, time enough for Gillian’s things to be transferred to Ramstone. Naturally, we’ll have to speak to the vicar to determine if that date will be convenient for him to perform the ceremony, and your wishes as to the date must be taken into account.” He smiled. “We want everyone to be satisfied.”
Desire Becomes Her Page 25