The Inconvenient Elmswood Marriage (Penniless Brides 0f Convenience Book 4)

by Marguerite Kaye

  If only she had the smallest clue as to what to do with herself. Perhaps she’d travel to a far corner of the globe and hunt out some rare species of plants. There was a book in the library at Elmswood by some Cornish botanist who had done just that, full of the most beautiful illustrations. The desert plants in particular had struck her, so oddly lush and such vivid colours.

  Trevelyan—that had been the author. Daniel Trevelyan. Another Daniel. The illustrations had such a delicate, feminine touch she had been surprised, the first time she had opened the book, to discover that they had been painted by a man.

  Whether the Admiralty had made him or not, her Daniel was his own man. So much his own man that he struggled to follow Sir Marcus’s orders, and felt obliged to redefine them to suit himself.

  As the vicar embarked on his sermon Kate caught her husband’s eye and smiled. Sir Marcus, albeit unwittingly, had defined a role for her to play, and she intended to enjoy it while it lasted.

  * * *

  ‘Yes, I was very fortunate indeed that my wife was able to come to my rescue,’ Daniel said for what he reckoned must be the tenth time.

  He and Kate had been standing surrounded by avidly listening faces just outside the church door for the last hour, answering a battery of questions and fielding an onslaught of invitations.

  ‘Yes,’ he said, continuing to smile, ‘I was taken ill on the little island of Cyprus. Do you know it? It is in the eastern Mediterranean. A charming place, with some very ancient sites. Kate was able to explore some of them when she was not nursing me. She is an excellent nurse.’

  The ‘excellent nurse’ was looking decidedly dejected.

  ‘It was nothing—any wife would have done the same,’ she said, but the woman who had asked the question ignored Kate’s reply and continued addressing Daniel.

  He tamped down the prickle of irritation. Despite being warned, he had not been prepared for the level of interest shown in him, and despite what Kate had said about being ‘only’ the estate manager’s daughter, he had not been prepared to witness her being sidelined and ignored. The so-called elite of Shropshire weren’t remotely interested in Lady Elmswood, who had lived among them for the last eleven years. But in stark contrast they were quite consumed with interest in her absent husband, in the reasons for his sudden and surprising marriage to an employee’s daughter, of all people, and in the explanation for his immediate abandonment of both his bride and his newly inherited estate.

  Ignoring yet another pointed remark about the secrecy of his nuptials—which, he had been informed with a titter, would have given rise to a very different kind of speculation had Lady Elmswood produced an early heir—Daniel put his arm around Kate’s waist, pulling her closer.

  ‘It is no exaggeration to say that my wife saved my life,’ he said. ‘And that despite having to survive in a foreign land, often with only the most basic of facilities.’

  ‘Facilities?’ the woman—Wycham? Was that her name? He vaguely remembered her—smiled blankly.

  ‘The personal facilities,’ Daniel said, casting Kate a mischievous smile. ‘They were exactly what one comes to expect when one is exploring antiquity, madam, but not what my lovely wife is accustomed to. To be blunt, they involved a shovel and a bucket of sand. If you understand my meaning.’

  He felt Kate’s shoulders shake, and threw her a conspiratorial smile.

  ‘Lord Elmswood! But I suppose I must forgive you being indelicate, for you are not accustomed to polite society...’

  ‘Oh, on the contrary, madam. I am used to consorting with royalty. I was once the guest of an Arabian prince.’ As he had intended, this drew an audible gasp. ‘Yes, I spent three months in the desert with his entourage, living in a tent made of goatskin. Oh, indeed, I can ride a camel as easily as a horse, sir. They have mouths every bit as sensitive as a thoroughbred, you know—though an unfortunate tendency to spit, which I confess takes some getting used to. The other end is also best avoided. No, I do not plan on expanding the stables here at Elmswood at present, though if I do I will be sure to take a look at the matching pair you speak of.’

  ‘Lord Elmswood!’ The cut-glass voice penetrated the general hubbub, followed swiftly by the statuesque woman it belonged to. ‘Lord Elmswood, I am Eveline Hartford—though you will know me as Marlow.’

  ‘A pleasure to meet you, Mrs Hartford, though I’m afraid I don’t recall...’

  ‘I was your sister Gillian’s best friend when we were girls. I must say I’d never have recognised you had you not been pointed out to me. Who would have thought that sickly little boy would have turned into such a—? Well, let me just say you have improved out of all recognition.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Daniel said through gritted teeth. ‘May I introduce my wife, Kate?’

  ‘How do you do, Lady Elmswood? I confess I expected someone more... Your father was estate manager at Elmswood, I understand?’

  ‘Yes he was. But I hung up my clogs and started taking regular baths when Lord Elmswood condescended to marry me,’ Kate said with a sweet smile.

  Though Daniel snorted, the sarcasm was quite lost on the other woman, who was barely listening.

  ‘Surely you remember me?’ she said, turning to Daniel. ‘Gilly and I were inseparable, and you,’ she said, with a gusty laugh that set Daniel’s teeth on edge, ‘you were forever begging to tag along.’

  ‘I’m afraid I don’t recall much of those days,’ Daniel said, though even as he spoke he did remember—with distaste. Realising the woman was not to be easily fobbed off, he turned to the rest of the fascinated onlookers. ‘If you will excuse us? I would like to catch up with an old family friend.’

  ‘Not so old, if you don’t mind,’ Eveline Marlow tittered as he ushered her off to one side.

  ‘Let me see... My sister was nine years older than I, which would make you—’

  ‘There is no need to bring arithmetic into it,’ the Marlow woman snapped. ‘I can’t believe how many years have passed since we lost dear Gillian...taken far too young. Though she was happy enough with her charming Irishman, and that must have been a consolation to you, Daniel—I’m sure you won’t mind my calling you Daniel, since we go back such a long way... My goodness, I really am finding it difficult to reconcile the strapping, handsome man you have become with that little boy. But I can see the family resemblance, especially around the eyes. Yours are a very different colour from Gillian’s, and there is no trace of her crowning glory of Titian hair in yours, but I will grant you you have turned into a very striking man. But, oh, your sister was a genuine beauty, was she not? I was far from plain myself, in those days, but she put me in the shade. It was a tragedy...a true tragedy...losing her so young and in such a terrible manner. She had promised to pay me a visit—for I was happily married myself by then, and by a stroke of good fortune I was living quite close to the school their darling little boy was due to attend. Did you know that?’

  ‘I’m afraid I did not. I was—’

  ‘Oh, yes, you’d have been off on your travels by then. You see,’ Mrs Hartford said, with an arch rap of her fan, ‘I have been keeping track of your progress. Not through Gillian, of course, for she was very much an out-of-sight-out-of-mind kind of person, but I am not without other more conscientious correspondents from Shropshire. The Wychams—you were talking to them a moment ago, and I am currently paying them a short visit. Anyway, when we had word that you had returned—well, how could I not make a point of coming along today to introduce myself? Though that should be reintroduce, shouldn’t it? You do remember me, don’t you? Surely I have not changed so very much?’

  ‘Not a bit,’ Daniel said blithely, for in essence she had not.

  ‘Hermes, Gillian called you—her little joke. For you were always boring on with stories of the Greek gods...and you were her messenger, weren’t you? Those billets doux of hers—do you remember?’

  ‘Vaguely,’ Da
niel said, aware that his smile was becoming ever more rigid. ‘In my defence, it was almost thirty years ago.’

  Eveline Marlow’s smile faded at this. ‘Never say so?’

  ‘Indeed,’ Daniel said, ‘for the eldest of my nieces is now a mother herself. Gillian would be a grandmother, were she alive. She did tell you, in those letters of hers, that she had given birth to three girls before her “darling little boy”?’

  ‘Well, of course she mentioned the girls. Twins! The poor dear was at death’s door, having those two.’

  ‘That would explain her rather distant parenting, no doubt,’ Kate cut in.

  ‘Oh, girls... You know, they need none of the attention one must lavish on a boy. I know that from my own brood. Why, girls can practically raise themselves.’

  ‘That certainly seems to have been your dear friend’s view. My own experience,’ Kate said, ‘is that girls benefit every bit as much, if not more, from having a little love and attention lavished upon them.’

  ‘Oh, yes, you took them on, didn’t you? Poor little orphans... Yes, I can imagine that they must have missed Gilly terribly. You must have found it so difficult. They would naturally have seen you as a very poor substitute, though I’m sure you did your best.’

  ‘Let me see,’ Daniel intervened. ‘Eloise, the eldest, is now Lady Fearnoch, and has just given birth to her first child. A girl but, despite that, the apple of her papa’s eye. Lord Fearnoch, of course, is very well known in diplomatic circles. Phoebe, the youngest of the twins, is chef patron of one of London’s most sought-after eating establishments—Le Pas à Pas, have you dined there? No? Well, it is very difficult to get a table if you are without influence. And Estelle, the middle sister and eldest twin, is extremely musical. She is off touring Europe at present, but we expect to hear that she has established her own orchestra very soon. So I’d say that Kate has done an admiral job, wouldn’t you agree?’

  ‘Gillian’s children would be bound to shine, whatever the circumstances.’

  Kate gave something very much resembling a snort, but before he could retort she caught his hand, squeezing it in warning.

  ‘You must excuse us,’ Daniel said. ‘You are doubtless aware, for you seem so very well-informed, that my wife and I are taking a belated honeymoon.’

  ‘I confess I had heard some such thing. Rather an odd state of affairs, though, is it not? For you have been married for years.’

  ‘For years I have dedicated my life to exploring the world, and Kate has dedicated her life to raising Gillian’s girls. Fate, in the form of my illness, has contrived to bring us together now, when we finally have time to devote to each other without the distraction of other obligations, and we intend to make the most of it.’

  ‘Indeed we do,’ Kate agreed, with a beatific smile in his direction. ‘It was a pleasure to meet you, Mrs Hartford, but it is an encounter that I’m sure you’ll understand we must curtail now, since we have other plans for this afternoon. What a pity that your visit to Shropshire will be concluded before our upcoming garden party.’

  ‘Well, as to that...’

  ‘If you will excuse us? We really must be off.’

  Chapter Six

  ‘I did warn you,’ Kate said as they finally left the church for the short walk back to Elmswood Manor. ‘As far as the county set are concerned I am and always will be the estate manager’s daughter. Clearly eleven years of continued improvement and renovation, providing people with work and making sure their farms are profitable, to say nothing of putting food on their tables, counts for nothing with that lot. I was right to have nothing to do with them.’

  ‘Slow down,’ Daniel said, taking her arm.

  ‘Sorry. You are so much improved that I sometimes forget how ill you have been. Are you tired?’

  ‘No, but my jaw is sore from talking!’

  She turned, smiling briefly. ‘And your ears must be burning. I hadn’t reckoned on all those questions about our marriage.’

  ‘Nor I, but I think I managed to deflect them.’

  ‘You are extremely adept at turning the subject. Is that a skill you have honed over years in foreign service?’

  ‘And is interrogation by stealth a skill you have honed over years of looking after my nieces?’

  Kate was obliged to laugh. ‘I should know better than to attempt to use subterfuge against a master of the art.’

  Daniel gave her arm a little shake. ‘The ordeal is over and we have achieved what we set out to do. So I think we both deserve a pat on the back.’

  ‘Largely thanks to you. No one was in the least bit interested in me. Actually, I’d rather they weren’t interested, so I’m delighted that you took centre stage. If I never have to pass the time of day with any of those people again I’ll be happy. Save that I will have to. Must we hold a party? No, don’t answer that. I know we must.’

  ‘What’s bothering you?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Come on, Kate, you’re a terrible liar.’

  ‘I suppose it’s sour grapes, really. Or wanting to have my cake and eat it. I am not interested in socialising with those people, and I am not interested in their lives, but to see how little they care about all the work I’ve done is galling. Perhaps I should have made more of an effort to blow my own trumpet.’

  ‘I’d like to understand better what you’ve achieved so that I can defend you.’

  She laughed. ‘I can fight my own battles, thank you very much.’

  ‘Oh, I’m very much aware of that. I’m just glad we’re on the same side.’

  On reaching the manor, they decided to remain outside, heading for the walled garden.

  ‘Do you mind if I take my coat off?’ Daniel said as they made for Kate’s favourite bench in the wilderness area. ‘Even I am finding it hot.’

  ‘Of course not. We can go inside if you’d rather?’

  ‘No, I like it here.’

  Daniel threw his coat carelessly over the back of the seat, and Kate decided to follow his lead, taking off her bonnet and gloves.

  ‘That Hartford woman was horrid,’ she said. ‘I take it you do remember her?’

  ‘As I said to her, it was a long time ago.’

  Which was his way of saying that he had locked it away, along with the rest of his past history, and didn’t want to discuss it. But Kate was getting tired of the growing list of topics which he considered out of bounds.

  ‘Hermes, she said your sister called you.’

  ‘It was Gillian’s pet name for me.’

  ‘Hermes was the messenger of the gods, wasn’t he?’

  ‘I thought you didn’t know anything about the Classics.’

  ‘We’re supposed to be getting to know one another better on this honeymoon of ours. How can I do that when you won’t even answer a simple question?’

  ‘I delivered love letters,’ Daniel said, after a tense moment’s hesitation. ‘Gillian enjoyed intrigue and she required adoration. I took the letters she wrote to her beaux and hid them in various secret locations, bringing replies back if there were any.’

  ‘Good grief, how many admirers did she have?’

  ‘I’ve no idea—nor whether the extent of her flirtations before Sean Brannagh began and ended with love notes or extended to assignations. Given what Eveline was hinting at, the latter, I presume.’

  Kate took a moment to assimilate this. ‘You were a child. Your sister was nine years older than you. Selfish as she was, she must have known it was wrong of her to embroil you.’

  ‘I didn’t need much persuading, Kate. I was pathetically eager to please. It was not only my father she had eating out of her hand.’

  ‘That Hartford woman referred to you as a sickly child.’ Kate frowned. ‘But I don’t remember you being anything other than a picture of health.’

  ‘I really don’t see what relevance m
y childhood ailments have now.’

  ‘Don’t you think that we are the sum total of our experiences?’ Kate asked. ‘You have admitted that in every role you have played an element of the real Daniel lurks. I’m interested in knowing all of that person. Including what he was like as a child. Go on—indulge me, please.’

  He rolled his eyes. ‘Very well. My mother died not long after giving birth to me. I know almost nothing about her, my father never spoke of her, but I can only assume, given the large gap between myself and my sister, that there were a number of failed pregnancies in between.’

  ‘Oh, the poor woman.’

  ‘As I said, she died, and since I was born some weeks before full-term I wasn’t expected to survive. Obviously I did, but during my very early years I was sickly, and left in the care of a nurse.’

  ‘While Gillian hogged your father’s attention, no doubt?’ Kate interjected.

  ‘I presume so. As a result of my poor health I was tutored at home. When I eventually grew out of my childhood ailments I begged to be sent to school, but my father insisted that I was too much of a weakling to cope. The fact that I refused to hunt or shoot confirmed him in his assessment.’

  ‘I presume he enjoyed both pursuits?’

  ‘He did—with relish.’

  ‘And I may safely also presume that is why you did not?’

  ‘It was a small enough rebellion, and in fact it stemmed from a very real repugnance. Perhaps if I’d tried from an earlier age to please him...’

  ‘Or perhaps if he had evinced any interest in you...’

  ‘The only interest he had in me was in riling me or thwarting me, and the net result was that I determined not to allow him to do either. But don’t start imagining me persecuted mercilessly, Kate. I spent most of my time hiding away—either here, or in the library, the one room in the house that held no interest for either Gillian or my father.’