The Convenient Bride

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by Winchester, Catherine


  “Anything else?”

  “Yes, no sleeping with another woman and me on the same day. The very thought of that just…” She shuddered at the idea.

  “Of course, that would simply be crass.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Is that all of your conditions?” he asked.

  “Yes, but there are some details to be worked out, like where we shall live.”

  “I had thought we might live in your properties. Unless you want to continue living with my parents?”

  “As much as I care for them, I don’t believe that would be appropriate. The estate is empty but being the Season, my London house is currently rented.”

  “Then we will rent a small house for the rest of the Season.”

  A part of Lucy had hoped that he would say they could remain in the country until next year, far away from his club and his women, but she knew that she had to forget fantasies like that. Her dreams of marrying Max were over; now it was time to face the harsh realities of what marriage to Max really meant.

  This was a marriage of convenience, nothing more.

  “Very well. I want to sign the trust contract before we obtain a marriage licence, so with the banns needing to be read, we could marry in four weeks’ time.”

  “Or we could obtain a special licence,” Max suggested. “Then we can marry whenever we like.”

  Despite herself, she felt a thrill at marrying him sooner rather than later. She liked to believe that his eagerness was because he wanted her too, although she realised that it was probably freedom from his father that he desired, rather than her.

  “All right, we will obtain a special licence, only…”

  “What?” he smiled reassuringly. “Another condition?”

  “Of a sort. I would like…” Calling it a honeymoon seemed far too romantic for such a calculating marriage. “I would like two weeks on my estate, well, our estate, before we return to London.”

  “It will still be your estate.” He tried to keep the bitterness from his voice but it stung that she didn’t trust him.

  “I already explained that you will have the use of all my properties for the remainder of your life. I only wish to safeguard my property-“

  “From me.”

  “For our children,” she corrected firmly but she could see that she had hurt him. “Maxwell, you know that I would do anything for you and I am already giving up my chance of marring for love. You have an estate coming to you that you can do as you like with, why must you have control of my estate too?”

  “It’s not the lack of control which bothers me, it’s the lack of trust.”

  “I am sorry, Maxwell. In many ways I do trust you. I trust you to keep my confidence, to defend me, and to be my friend but in financial matters, you have not proved yourself trustworthy.”

  He could see on her face how making such an admission pained her and he suddenly wished that he hadn’t run from his responsibilities for so many years. As far as she was concerned, he was only marrying her because of the debt he had run up and the ultimatum his father has issued. Why would she trust him with her finances?

  Two weeks alone with her in the country was tempting though, a honeymoon of sorts. Perhaps they could spend it in bed and maybe if he was very lucky, he could thaw this cool exterior that she seemed to have developed in the last few days.

  “Very well, I accept your conditions but I have one of my own, if I may?” A smile crept onto his lips.

  Lucy’s expression hardened. “It is you who wants this marriage, Maxwell; you are hardly in a position to be dictating terms.”

  His expression fell. “I was simply going to ask that we seal our deal with a kiss.”

  “Oh.” She blushed. “I’m sorry. I…”

  Max got to his feet and offered her his hand and although she hesitated, she finally put her hand in his and got to her feet. She felt both nervous and excited at the thought of kissing him.

  He put his hands around her waist and pulled her to him so their bodies were flush, and Lucy felt her breathing become shallow as her skin grew warm. She couldn’t look into his eyes and, hoping to get this over with quickly, pecked him on the lips.

  “Oh no,” he said, tightening his grip as she tried to pull away. “That’s not what I call a kiss.”

  She still couldn’t look at him so he took one hand from about her waist and using one finger, tilted her chin up until she had no choice but to look in his eyes. Her cheeks were flushed, her full lips slightly parted and being pressed up against him, her cleavage prominent. There was no artifice in Lucy; she just exuded sex appeal, drawing men to her like a flame draws a moth. Perhaps the sexiest thing about her though, was that she was completely oblivious to her appeal, she believed that most men who showed an interest were attracted more to her inheritance than to her.

  His lips claimed hers and he poured every inch of ardour that he felt into it.

  Lucy felt her heartbeat increase and her legs grow weak as he deepened the kiss, wishing with all her heart that he wouldn’t stop, while also terrified of what might happen if he didn’t. His tongue sought entrance to her mouth and she granted it, moaning into the kiss as he ignited the feelings that she tried her hardest to repress. She wanted him so badly at that moment that it almost physically hurt.

  “That is a kiss,” he informed her, stepping away.

  Lucy felt bereft as he left the room and feeling a little shaky, she slowly sat down again.

  What had that been about, she wondered. The kiss had been passionate but also, perhaps, a little angry? What did he have to be angry about? And why couldn’t she just control her feelings when it came to Max?

  If only she could love him as she loved his parents, in a platonic way. As much as she cared for Charles, she was certain that no kiss from him would ever inflame her desire, as a kiss from Max could.

  She was doomed, she decided but as she heard Max telling Charles the good news, she knew that she couldn’t change her mind now.

  Seconds later the library door opened and she was enveloped in a whirlwind of embraces, kisses, congratulations and well-wishes.

  There was no backing out now.

  Chapter Three

  “But darling, you know what the suggestion will be!” Eleanor said, wringing her hands together.

  “I thought you’d be happy for us,” Max sounded confused.

  “I am happy but you know how cruel people can be. You have been living together for so long now…”

  “With my parents, you should add, which is hardly an environment for sin, is it?”

  Max was suddenly wishing that he had left it to his father to impart the ‘good’ news.

  “Mother,” Max came and sat beside her. “People have been suggesting that things between us were improper ever since Lucy turned 17.”

  “Precisely!”

  Max sighed and decided to try another tactic. “I know Father has protected you from the worst of my antics, Mother, but even you must know of my reputation.”

  His mother covered her mouth with her hand and appeared as though she was about to burst into tears. Nevertheless, she nodded that she did know something of his conduct.

  “And do you honestly think that if I had a woman as beautiful as Lucy warming my bed, I would have earned myself that sort of notoriety.”

  “Maxwell! How dare you be so coarse in front of me!”

  “I’m sorry but you know it’s true, correct?”

  His mother nodded again.

  “Then what does it matter what people say, if you know the truth? If people said that I had blonde hair, or that Lucy had black hair, that wouldn’t upset you would it, even although it is untrue?”

  Reluctantly, his mother shook her head. “But this is hardly about the colour of your hair.”

  “But the suggestion that Lucy and I are lovers is just as untrue. Don’t let them upset you, Mother.”

  “I can’t stand the thought of people gossiping about you. They will say that you only m
arried Lucy because you got her in trouble! Oh, why do you need a special licence, why can’t you wait and have the banns read like everybody else? You know you are only inviting talk.”

  Since she was one of the biggest gossips in London, Max rather thought she deserved to be the subject of it for a change, but he held his tongue.

  “And when we have a happy event, no sooner than nine months from the wedding, those people will be proved wrong. Just try to remember that you know the truth, Mother, that we are marrying because father is forcing me, not because I have ruined Lucy’s reputation.”

  “I know you are right but-”

  “No, no buts,” he cut her off. “Lucy and I have done nothing wrong and I will not let people who would gossip about us decide our actions. I want to marry Lucy, Mother; I’m actually looking forward to it. Do try and be happy for us. Please?”

  “I will try.” Eleanor Stark nodded, though she looked anything but happy.

  ***

  “Married!”

  Max sighed. Was no one, other than his father, going to congratulate him? Granted, this was his mistress but they were hardly soulmates; he had thought that she might at least pretend to be happy for him.

  “There’s no need to sound so shocked, Marie, I am a very eligible man you know.”

  Marie made an effort to cover her shock. “But you have always seemed so happy being single?”

  Max found that he didn’t want to tell her he was being pressured into marriage and since she wasn’t congratulating him, he decided it was best to leave. He picked up his coat and pulled it on.

  “Anyway, I wanted to let you know that I cannot meet with you like this any longer. I am sorry but I know you have plenty of other admirers at the club who will provide for you.”

  “But Max, many men have mistresses, why must marriage change anything between us.”

  ‘Because it’s Lucy,’ he thought. “I want to try and enjoy being married, at least for a time.”

  “You know that a Society woman cannot please you in the ways that I can, Max. They are too introverted, too innocent to please you as I can.”

  “I have enjoyed our time together, Marie.” He came up to her and kissed her forehead. “I will treasure the memories that we made but for the foreseeable future, I cannot continue our relationship.”

  “I thought we were friends as well as lovers, Max.”

  “We are, of course, and we will still see each other at my club, I'm sure.”

  He was surprised when she grabbed either side of his face and pulled him down for a passionate kiss. He responded but his heart wasn’t in it and he wondered what she was trying to prove. When it became clear that he wasn’t responding as he used to, she pushed him away and folded her arms across her chest.

  “Fine, go. I don’t need you.”

  They had been companions for a while now and Max didn’t want to finish things on bad terms, but he didn’t know what else to do. He collected his top hat and headed for the door.

  “Goodbye, Marie.”

  “Good riddance!” she yelled, slamming the door so hard that it shook.

  Max sighed and headed to the street to hail a hansom cab to take him home. Despite the frosty reception that his mother and his mistress had given the news of his impending wedding, he was beginning to look forward to it. They were keeping things simple, just a few friends and family present and in just two days’ time, Lucy Steed would become Lucy Stark, his wife.

  He couldn’t help but smile at the thought, even if the circumstances of the union weren’t ideal.

  ***

  On Tuesdays and Wednesdays, Lucy volunteered at an orphanage. Her father had set up two, one in London and one in Canterbury, and Lucy’s mother had taught at both, depending on whether the family was in London or at their estate.

  As a child she had often gone with her mother, who thought that Lucy needed to learn that there were many less fortunate children in the world and that it was her duty to try and help them. After her parents died, she hadn’t been allowed to attend the orphanages until she turned 16, when Charles deemed her old enough to be responsible for herself.

  In the mornings Lucy taught reading, writing and arithmetic and each afternoon, she taught the girls to sew, crochet and make lace. Her mother had informed her that working class housewives often made lace, which they sold to dressmakers to earn a little additional money for the family.

  Although orphaned (or sometimes simply abandoned because their parents couldn’t afford them or they were illegitimate) in many ways these children were luckier than most, as a basic education was given to them and when they were old enough, the institution would try and find them at best an apprenticeship and at worst, a good job.

  Lucy didn’t really believe that made up for the lack of parental love but as much as she might want to, she could hardly magic parents into existence for them.

  The London orphanage had originally been built to house thirty children but it sadly, was now home to almost 150. Although her father had extended the buildings, things were still cramped and far from ideal but when a child was brought in or worse, abandoned on the doorstep, they could hardly turn it away. The dormitories were divided into girls and boys, then split by age. Infants were housed in a separate building nearby, so that that they didn’t disturb the sleep of pupils or staff.

  The children did most of the work in the orphanage, such as cooking, cleaning and laundry. For many of the girls, it would be good training for entering service, which was the most that many of them could hope for. They tried to find apprenticeships for them, just as they did the boys, but there were far fewer opportunities for girls.

  After chores, that only left an hour each morning for study and an hour after lunch for skills. The children were also allowed two hours before bed each evening for play, and the library was well stocked with books for the brighter pupils.

  Lucy did her best to find a variety of volunteers to teach them skills, such as carpentry, vegetable farming and basic dressmaking, things which would help them become self-sufficient and frugal in their adult lives, even if they didn’t enter those trades.

  Many local people came to the orphanage for their apprentices, as the Steed Homes for Destitute and Waif Children were known to have educated, polite and conscientious children. So when Matron came to tell her that there was a Frenchwoman asking to see her, Lucy naturally assumed that it was someone who had come looking for an apprentice.

  The woman waiting for her in the entrance hall was very grand, dressed in a scarlet gown with intricate lace trim and carrying a matching parasol and reticule. Dressed in a very plain, dark brown dress that was practical for the orphanage, Lucy felt rather dowdy in comparison.

  Since this lady obviously wasn’t a businesswoman, Lucy assumed she was here to choose a housemaid, although that was usually taken care of by the butler or housekeeper.

  “I’m Lady Steed,” she said, curtseying to the other woman. “Can I help you?”

  “I hope so.” The woman answered but her accent made the words sound more like ‘Eye ‘ope so.’

  “You’re French?” Lucy asked, smiling.

  “Oui. I am Madam Poisson.”

  “Very pleased to meet you. Would you like to talk in the library? I'm afraid we don’t have many home comforts here, but I can offer you some tea.”

  “Oh no, I am fine, thank you.”

  They seated themselves at the table in the middle of the room.

  “So what can I do for you?” Lucy asked.

  “I have been feeling a little altruistic recently and am looking to gift some money to an institution that does good works. I heard that your family’s orphanages are well regarded.”

  “That’s very kind of you,” Lucy smiled. “Monetary donations are always very welcome, as are clothing, linen and supplies, such as chalk boards, paper, ink wells, quills, books, soap and much more. As you can imagine, the list is endless.”

  Lucy was feeling a little odd. Never before had so
meone come to her orphanage, asking specifically for her, and offering to make a donation. If people did wish to do so, they either spoke with her at a social gathering, or spoke with Matron, who ran the institution.

  Not only that but something about Madam Poisson seemed wrong. Lucy had smelled her perfume, lavender and musk, before she even entered the hallway, and it still stung her nose a little. She wore a large beaded choker at her throat that was just a little too large to be tasteful, her hair was also just a little too coiffed and the ornaments adorning it a touch too gaudy. The colour of her dress also was a little too loud, the neck a little too low to be decent and the skirt a touch too wide for fashion. Lucy could be wrong, but her accent also seemed a little forced.

  Lucy rather had the impression of a child playing dress up, getting everything almost right but overcompensating on the details in her desire to ‘fit in’.

  “I will have to speak to my banker before I can make a donation but would a cheque be acceptable?”

  “Indeed.” Lucy doubted that the orphanage would ever see a single penny.

  “Then I shall ask my banker the next time I see him.”

  “Thank you.” She hesitated for a moment then decided to test this woman, to see for certain if she was genuine. “Depuis combien de temps vivez-vous ici?” she asked.

  Madam Poisson’s eyes widened a fraction. “Pardonne moi, your accent is a little difficult to understand.” Her accent was also more exaggerated, the sentence sounding more like ‘Pear-donn-eh moir, your ak-sent is jus’ a leetle difficult to understand.’

  “Oh, my apologies, it’s been years since I spoke French fluently. I asked how long you’ve been living here?”

  “Oh, for many years,” Madam Poisson waved a lazy hand in the air.

  “And do you like London?”

  “Very much. I consider it my home now.”

  “And what region in France do you come from?”

  “I was born and raised in Paris,” she said, though Paris sounded more like ‘par-ree’.

 

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