The Chaperone Bride

Home > Romance > The Chaperone Bride > Page 12
The Chaperone Bride Page 12

by Marina Oliver


  'It is not the season for it,' he apologised, 'but as soon as the weather improves you will be able to play with it.'

  Henry swiftly removed the bat from his son's hands as Harry began to swing it about, threatening some ornaments on a small table.

  'Not indoors, my lad.'

  Harry pouted, but subsided.

  George was delighted with the quizzing glass, and immediately hung it round his neck on the narrow black ribbon, and proceeded to inspect everyone through it. Amelia, who was sitting next to him, whispered something to him and he flushed, and let the glass hang down.

  Amelia looked at her fan, said a brief word of thanks to Joanna when prompted by her father, and placed it carefully on the small table which had been in danger from Harry's cricket bat.

  The adults also exchanged gifts. Joanna had hemmed and embroidered some handkerchiefs for Sir Kenelm, with his initials entwined in the corners. He handed her a long box, and she opened it to find a necklace of sapphires and a matching bracelet and brooch. She looked up at him, startled.

  'Oh no, you must not! It is too much!'

  'Nonsense. I know your only trinket is your locket, and you probably would not care to wear Maria's jewels,' he said softly to her. 'Those I will save for Amelia when she is old enough, but as my wife you must have suitable jewels. A pity your gown today is the green one, but wear something else tomorrow so that you can wear these.'

  Joanna blinked away a tear. He was so good to her. She noticed Albinia pursing her lips disapprovingly, and raised her head in sudden defiance. She would not allow the woman to put her out of countenance. Even if it was only a marriage of convenience she was still the hostess, the mistress of the house, and she would not be looked down upon.

  She was aware that Henry knew some of the truth, for Sir Kenelm had told her of Henry's advice to advertise for a wife. Had he told Albinia? Some of Albinia's remarks had implied she was aware Joanna had brought no dowry to the marriage, but neither of them could possibly know the real situation, could they?

  After a while, as the children grew restless, they were sent up to the nursery floor. Harry had strict instructions he was not to be too wild with his cricket bat, though he could practise swings if no one else was in the room.

  'That should be safe enough,' Henry said.

  'Amelia,' Sir Kenelm said, 'you have forgotten your lovely fan.'

  The girl paused, and then came slowly back into the room.

  'Oh yes,' she said, and picked up the delicate fan, flicking it open and looking at the painted picture.

  The Rector and his wife soon said they must be going, Albinia went to lie down, saying she was exhausted, and the brothers insisted Joanna joined them in the billiard room where they played a hilarious game which, so far as Joanna understood it, involved them standing one to each side of the table and trying, each in turn, to hit any ball into any socket. To her delight she did manage to hit the balls occasionally, and as he passed her when they went out to supper, Sir Kenelm said they would soon be playing regularly.

  Supper was a quiet meal, and they all went up to bed soon afterwards. Henry, looking out at the weather, said he thought it might snow on the following day.

  'So I think we must go home tomorrow or we might be snowed in. It has been so pleasant, Joanna. Thank you so much, and you and Kenelm must come and visit us soon. If you can, and the weather permits, ride over and see us before you go back to London, Matthew.'

  Betsy was waiting for Joanna and helped her out of her gown. The girl was clearly tired, so Joanna, putting on her dressing gown, said she must go to bed, and she could manage to brush her hair by herself for once.

  Betsy smiled and went. Joanna sat and slowly pulled the brush through her hair. She opened the box with the necklace and fastened it round her neck. The blue of the stones made her eyes look an even deeper blue. She blinked back tears. Sir Kenelm was so amazingly generous. She only hoped he was as satisfied with his bargain as she was.

  Reluctantly she replaced the necklace in the box and put it in one of the drawers of her dressing table. Then she tied on her night cap, blew out all the candles apart from the one by her bed, and went to get into bed. She pulled back the covers and stepped back in astonishment. The fan she had given Amelia was lying in the bed, the delicate whalebone ribs broken and the picture torn from them and cut to ribbons.

  *

  Chapter 8

  Sir Kenelm was still clad in pantaloons and shirt, though he had stripped off his neckcloth and changed his shoes for slippers. He had sent Venner to bed. Now he stood in his dressing room, holding a branch of candles, hesitating before the door connecting to Joanna's rooms. As her husband he had every right to visit her whenever he chose, but in their situation, she might regard it as an unwelcome intrusion. Then he thought he heard the sound of a sob, and all hesitancy fled. He opened the door, took a couple of swift strides across the empty dressing room, and entered the bedroom.

  Joanna was standing beside the bed, where the covers had been drawn back. Only a single candle stood on the table beside the bed, and her face was in shadow, but as he moved swiftly forward his own candles showed tears in her eyes and a shocked expression on her face.

  He deposited the candlestick on another table and went towards her.

  'Joanna, what in the world is the matter?'

  He saw she was clutching something in her hand, and gently forced her to show it to him. For a few moments he was puzzled, it was only scraps of some material. Then he recognised the broken pieces of whalebone as the ribs of a fan, and recalled Joanna's gift to Amelia. Was this the same fan?

  'Is this the present you gave Amelia?'

  Joanna seemed unable to reply, but she did not resist when he took the pieces from her and laid them on the bed. He was not mistaken. It was Amelia's fan. Then he saw several more pieces lying on the sheet, and pulled the covers further back. It was obvious the fan had been put into the bed deliberately.

  Joanna sighed, and at last spoke. Her voice trembled.

  'They hate me so much! I was wrong to marry you as I did. It should never have happened. Your children cannot bear the notion of a step-mother. I must go away, and then they will forget and you can all be comfortable again.'

  He pushed the fan remnants aside and sat on the bed, pulling Joanna to sit beside him.

  'If you truly cannot bear it here, then I will not force you to stay. But if you go, I will come with you. You are my wife, I am responsible for your well-being, and if you cannot be happy at Rock Castle, then we will go elsewhere. I have other houses, where we can escape Amelia's silly hatred.'

  She shook her head. 'By no means. You are much too kind to me. But you must not leave your children. Perhaps, if you would permit it, I could live in one of these houses? I have nowhere else to go, but I could stay there while I applied for some position as a governess. I would use my own name, not yours, no one need know we were ever married, so you would not be made to look foolish, with such a wife.'

  He shook her, turning her as she sat beside him.

  'You are the foolish one. I married you, and even though it is an unconventional marriage, I still have obligations towards you. As you do towards me.'

  She looked up at him, puzzled. 'How can I?'

  'I need you, as hostess, and chaperone when our new governess arrives. Your friend, remember. How would she feel if she came and found you had left? Amelia is just a child, and together we will make her understand these silly, nasty tricks of hers will not force you to leave. She must not be allowed to win, and I need you,' he repeated. 'Be strong, my dear.'

  She gave a watery smile and sniffed.

  'I am so sorry, but I was shocked by such behaviour from a child. I cannot take you away from your children, though, can I?'

  'No. In the meantime, I have another gift for you, which I did not wish to give to you earlier. Wait here and I will fetch it.'

  A moment later he was back, and handed Joanna a guitar. She took it, her hands trembling, and th
e tears he had thought stemmed fell faster than before.

  'I – you – oh, how could you?'

  He took it away from her and put it on the bed, then pulled her to her feet and clasped her to him so that she buried her face in his shirt.

  'Don't you want it? I sent to London for it. Is it not the right sort? I know nothing about guitars, I had to depend on a friend to purchase one for me.'

  She struggled to stem her tears, and looked up at him as she stood in the circle of his arms.

  'It's perfect, and I am such an ungrateful wretch, to think of leaving you when you need me and are so very generous to me. I will do better. I will try to make Amelia tolerate me, even if she does not love me.'

  He hugged her close, and he knew that if he wanted it, he could make love to her. He did want it, he confessed ruefully. Her body felt so soft and compliant in his arms, and he drank in the scent of her, the perfume she used, the hint of lavender from her soap, and just the essence of Joanna. Why had he laid down such stupid conditions for their marriage? Because, an inner voice reminded him, she would never have agreed to anything else. And if he now took advantage of her emotions, of her gratitude, she would have good cause to despise him. Was it simply that, since he had dismissed Selina, he had not held a woman in his arms, made love to one? Would any willing woman do? The notion appalled him and he stepped back quickly, pushing Joanna away from him. She was not any woman, she was Joanna.

  'Go to bed now,' he said gently. 'I will talk to my daughter in the morning, when Henry and his family have gone. But keep your guitar safely out of Amelia's sight for the time being, until she can be trusted not to ruin that too!'

  He picked up the branch of candles and turned away. It was too tempting to stay.

  'And tomorrow, you shall play for me.'

  *

  It was the middle of the morning and the big travelling carriage and post chaise had been brought round to the front door. Trunks were being lashed to the roof while smaller bundles went inside. Albinia was in the hall, being swathed in shawls ready for the journey home, when Sally came running down the stairs, followed by Harry's governess.

  'Sir Kenelm, we can't find the children!'

  'What do you mean?'

  'They have been complaining they haven't been permitted to explore the ruins of the old castle,' the governess said, breathing heavily. 'I thought Harry was gathering together his toys.'

  'And the twins were helping him, they said,' Sally cut in. 'They are not upstairs, we have searched everywhere.'

  'Henry, Matthew? Come, they might hurt themselves.'

  Without a further word Sir Kenelm went swiftly towards the side door which was nearest to the old ruins. Henry, casting a harassed glance at his wife, who was moaning and being supported by her maid, abruptly consigned her to the care of the maid and governess, and followed his brother. Matthew had already gone.

  Joanna, deciding Albinia had plenty of support and would not welcome hers, snatched up a shawl and wrapping it round her as she went, followed the brothers. She had not yet explored the ruins, it had been too cold, and she wondered at the hardiness of the children. Then she decided it had been Harry's last opportunity on this visit, and that had spurred them on.

  The entrance to the ruins was through a small gate in the stable yard wall. It was open, and as Joanna went through she could see the two boys, perched precariously on top of a broken wall, the highest that was left of the old keep. George was kneeling at what looked like the end of the wall, where there was a sheer drop behind him, for the adjoining wall had collapsed completely. He was shouting at Harry, who was sitting astride the wall in front of him, and Joanna could hear him telling his cousin to go back, it was the only way.

  Harry was obviously petrified with fright and unable to move. As Joanna drew closer she could see his eyes were closed, he was rocking backwards and forwards, and was white with terror. He might fall at any minute.

  'Fetch a ladder,' Sir Kenelm ordered, and one of the grooms ran to obey the order.

  'Matthew, you're the tallest, you can best reach him when the ladder comes. I'm going up to hold him.'

  Henry protested it was his responsibility, Harry was his son, but Sir Kenelm ignored him and was beginning to clamber up the scattered rubble which had clearly been the route the boys had taken, and which had allowed them to gain the summit of the wall.

  Joanna watched, her hands clenched at her sides. The wall was so high, more than twice the height of a man. She was feeling light headed, for it had been dawn before she dropped into a weary doze. He was so very kind to her, and if anything happened to him, if he should fall and be injured, or even killed, she would be devastated, far more so than she had by her father's death.

  As she watched she became conscious of screams, and realised they were not, as she had first thought, coming from the boys, but from somewhere to her right. She suddenly recalled Amelia, who was also missing. Had the girl fallen, and was lying unseen somewhere?

  She began to clamber over the heaps of stones. There was a gap in the wall that way, and when she reached it she could see what looked like a series of old rooms, probably once used as store rooms, or even cells, for they were below ground level. A broken staircase led down to them. Most of the rooms had no doors, but one, she saw, had a wooden door, and as she drew closer she could see it was secured by a stout iron bar sitting in brackets to either side. The screams were coming from behind the door.

  Joanna managed to lift the bar aside and she pulled open the door. She was almost knocked off her feet as Amelia, still screaming and sobbing hysterically, threw herself onto her and buried her face in Joanna's neck.

  'Hush, now, it's all right! Were you locked in? But you are safe now, you're out of it, and will soon be back in the house, in your room, with Nanny.'

  Amelia continued to weep, but she was quieter now, the screams had ceased, and Joanna heard the occasional word through the sobs.

  'Harry... said girls couldn't climb... rats... hate dark... pushed me... horrid boys.'

  'Those horrid boys have got themselves trapped, they couldn't climb down, they were too frightened, and someone has had to climb up after them and rescue them,' Joanna said calmly, and at last Amelia looked up.

  Joanna turned round. She could see Sir Kenelm seated astride the top of the wall, holding Harry and talking to him, while George was being lifted onto the ladder, the top of which was just visible the far side of the wall.

  Amelia gave a wobbly laugh through her sobs.

  'They're stuck? Good! It serves them right for locking me in. I hate the dark, and being shut in.'

  Joanna felt her shudder, and pulled her closer. Then Amelia appeared to recognise her, and gave her a startled glance before pulling away.

  'You! I didn't know.'

  'Never mind. Come,' Joanna said, 'we had better go back, or they will be wondering where you are as soon as the boys are down.'

  She took Amelia's hand to help her scramble across the fallen stones, but when they were back on the solid ground she felt the child pulling away and released her. The girl watched Harry, who was still being held by Sir Kenelm, then looked at George being guided down the ladder by Matthew.

  'Silly boys,' she muttered. 'They can't climb, but I could have done!'

  'Yes, but they have had a big fright, so don't gloat,' Joanna said. 'I suggest you go inside now, you are very cold, and you don't want to be ill.'

  Amelia did not look at her, but she turned and went towards the stable yard, to be met by Sally who began to scold her as she led her back towards the house. Joanna grinned. No doubt she would have to endure scoldings from Nanny too, and her father. Perhaps the child would feel chastened for once.

  Joanna breathed a sigh of relief as George reached the ground. She went across to him and gave him the same advice as she'd given Amelia.

  'And you had better apologise to her for locking her in that dark place.'

  George glared. 'She's a coward, frightened of the dark, or ra
ts.'

  'Then you ought to have known better than to tease her. It was not the action of a gentleman.'

  'It was Harry's idea.'

  'If you tell tales of other boys once you get to school, you will lose all your friends,' she warned him. 'I taught in a school, and I saw this happen. Now go inside and get warm. And change your breeches,' she called after him. 'You have torn a big hole in them.'

  She tried not to laugh as he craned round to see the damage, and when he saw the big rent which exposed his skin, he blushed fierily and ran as fast as he could towards the house, clutching at the dangling piece of cloth as he went.

  She turned her attention back to Sir Kenelm. He had managed to pass Harry to Matthew, but the child was still too terrified to climb down the ladder by himself, so Matthew slung him across one shoulder and, with just the use of one hand, climbed precariously down. Once on the ground he handed the boy to Henry, who nodded his thanks and carried his son back towards the house.

  Joanna watched as Sir Kenelm, rejecting the ladder, saying it might slip since he was so far away from it, rose to his feet and turned to walk back along the wall. She gasped in horror. Surely he would fall! Then she found Matthew beside her while the grooms were removing the ladder.

  'Don't worry, he's as sure footed as a cat. He was always climbing in these ruins when we were boys, and it was always Henry and me getting stuck and needing rescue.'

  Joanna wasn't listening. She held her breath until Sir Kenelm was back on the ground, and then, ashamed of her terror, turned and almost ran back to the house. She needed to see what was happening there.

  *

  Albinia was prostrate, lying on the sopha in the drawing room, clutching her vinaigrette in one hand and a glass of hartshorn in the other, while her maid fluttered a fan and Harry's governess moaned excuses while she tried to chafe her hands, a proceeding somewhat hindered by the items clutched in those hands.

 

‹ Prev