Max had grumbled but given in gracefully.
They did stop at his family’s estate near Rochester, for the articles that Lucy had spoken about and they ended up making love on her bed, before returning to the carriage.
After another six hour journey, they were pleased to arrive to the new home in London and stretch their legs.
Max’s parents had seen to the hiring of staff and since they had already been working here for a week before their masters returned, things were running very smoothly. His mother had also sent over most of their personal belongings, which were now neatly unpacked in two different rooms. Max had been hoping they could share a bedroom but he knew that for decency’s sake, they should have separate rooms. Still, he intended to always visit her room at night, so that she couldn’t run out on him like she had that night when they were younger.
Lucy hadn’t seen the house yet and was keen to look around. It wasn’t to her exact tastes but it was a very nice home, and they had been looking for a house in the middle of the Season, so although beggars couldn’t be choosers, she might well have chosen this house herself.
Max trailed around behind her, eager to see her reaction but her expression was frustratingly neutral.
“Well?” he asked when they got to her room.
“I think it’s lovely,” she said, bestowing one of her radiant smiles upon him.
“Really?”
“Yes. I think you did very well to find us such a lovely house.”
“It’s owned by Lord Ambridge who doesn’t usually let it out, but he’s in away in India for a while. His son is a friend and I knew you’d like it. He usually just takes rooms in Mivart's Hotel when in London, as a house like this is just too large for a single man, but he agreed to let us use it.”
Lucy came up to him and kissed him.
“I think it’s lovely.”
He kissed her back and then they thoroughly tested the bed for sturdiness.
“I was thinking,” she said, removing her head from his chest and propping it up with her chin on her hand as they lay enjoying the afterglow. “How would you like to redecorate my London home?”
“Me?” he sounded shocked.
“Well, both of us. I haven’t seen the London house for a while but I remember it being very dark and forbidding. There were a few things that I’d like to change in the estate house too, then we can turn them from houses into our homes.”
“So do I have a say in how we decorate both houses?”
“Of course. Especially things like the billiard room, which will essentially be your domain. Unless you want to remove any walls, then we should probably discuss it.”
“Just the wall to your room,” he teased. “Would that be very hard to do?”
Lucy laughed, pleased that her dream had survived the return to London. “Well a door might be easier,” she suggested.
“Then I’ll install a door. That way the servants won’t be subjected to me creeping back to my room each morning, clad only in a nightshirt.”
Lucy felt more content that she could remember in a long time. It didn’t matter that Max only told her that he loved her in bed, or in jest. She didn’t mind that he might have other women because he was always there for her.
“I think I'm with child,” she admitted.
“So soon!” He leaned up to kiss her but Lucy looked hesitant as he pulled away.
“I may not be,” she cautioned. “I’m only a week late.”
“Any other signs?” His eyes slipped down to her stomach, despite it being far too early to be visible.
“Well I have felt the tiniest bit queasy at times over the last few days.”
“This is wonderful news.”
“Really?”
“You don’t think this is good?”
“Of course I do, but it is very soon. I worried that you might… well that you might feel a family so soon would… Oh, I don’t know what I mean.”
“You were worried that I might feel it would affect my lifestyle.”
“I suppose.”
“Well, it’s my own fault, I suppose, I’m just too virile,” he joked.
Lucy relaxed a little, happy that he seemed pleased by the news.
“Yes, but I can see that we’re going to have to take some precautions unless we want a child every year,” she said.
“Is there something wrong with that?”
“I'm not a broodmare, Max,” she laughed.
“Well, at least we won’t have to worry for the next nine months,” he said, putting his hand on her stomach, then moving it up to cup her breast.”
“Is that all you ever think about?” she asked, though she clearly wasn’t averse to the idea.
“Well, not all, but certainly a lot.”
***
Lucy was enjoying married life to a degree that she hadn’t expected. They had been back in London for a month now and Lucy was relishing every second of her time with Max.
He still went to his gentleman’s club but usually in the afternoon rather than at night, and often only on the days when she was working at the orphanage. She didn’t know if he was still gambling but since most gambling took place in the evenings, she assumed not.
He had returned from the club smelling like that whore’s perfume (lavender and musk) twice but the scent wasn’t nearly so strong as when he returned from his club before they had been married, so she assumed that while there had been contact between them, they hadn’t had sex. Certainly Max’s desire hadn’t cooled on those days, so she doubted that he was having affairs.
She wasn’t really sure why he was being so attentive but she wasn’t about to complain.
And he had been so pleased when she told him she was pregnant that she almost couldn’t wait for the baby to come, to see how a child would fit into their marriage. She hoped it didn’t harm their relationship in any way.
Max was also showing great interest in her estate, having read all the articles she gave him and even writing to Earl of Egremont to clarify a few points on selective breeding. As well as helping Lucy, he intended to try his hand at breeding horses, which she was thrilled about. It didn’t matter how his interest in estate management came about, as long as he was ready to run his father’s estate one day soon.
They had been to dinner with his parents since returning and invited them around for a dinner party as well, but Lucy felt that Charles wasn’t looking at all well these days. He had claimed that he just had a bad cold but Lucy could see the signs of disease spreading through his body. He looked pale, had lost a little weight and generally seemed tired.
Lucy was the only one who knew the truth, that he was suffering from consumption but he had sworn her to secrecy. She thought that Eleanor might suspect that something was wrong but that she was probably choosing not to see it, while Max was all but oblivious to his father’s illness.
Lucy felt that he needed to know that his father was sick but Charles wouldn’t hear of it. He couldn’t really explain why he didn’t want Max to know, other than that Max would tell his mother and he didn’t want to worry Eleanor.
Lucy only discovered his illness because she had returned home early one day and encountered the doctor leaving, so having had her own suspicions about his health, had demanded answers from Charles. He had told her, under the strict instructions that she wasn’t ever to reveal any part of their conversation to anyone.
Worried for him, she had agreed at the time but now she was regretting her decision. Max had spent most of his childhood rebelling against his future and consequently, his father. But as much as he disliked his father for, as he saw it, forcing responsibility on him, she knew that he would regret at least some of his actions if his father died. Max had said many cruel things to his father over the years and once his father was gone, there would be no going back, no chance to apologise, no reconciliation.
Losing her own parents had been hard enough and she had a loving relationship with them; Max was likely to be completely
devastated.
It was hard to see these days, but there was love there. Charles, for example, had never held his son’s harsh words against him and when Lucy had first come to live with them, they had been closer, riding out together once a week when Max was home from school and discussing Max’s education over dinner in the evenings.
It was really only since Max had left university that things had become so fraught between them.
Now she felt that she had a duty to tell Max, before it was too late, although her promise to Charles pricked at her conscience, delaying her.
With all this in mind, when a messenger arrived with a note, signed Charles Stark and asking her to come to an address immediately, she didn’t even question that his handwriting looked different. She told the children to complete the sums she had written on the blackboard, then she left the classroom and spoke to Matron, so that she knew that Lucy was leaving early, and headed in her carriage for the address on the note.
The strange request plagued her as they travelled. What was this address? Had Charles rented rooms where he might see the doctor without having to worry about Eleanor finding out? What was so urgent that he needed to see her now?
Not waiting for the driver to help her down, she jumped out of the carriage as soon as they got to the address and ran into the building. It was divided into a series of suites where people, usually single young men or less wealthy merchant families, could rent rooms while in London. Some rented rooms for their mistresses so that they were taken care of, as well as having the advantage of being a private place for assignations.
Lucy dashed up the stairs, half afraid of finding Charles dying, for he wasn’t usually prone to melodrama and to request her presence ‘immediately’ over an ‘urgent’ matter was very odd. She found the suite number on the third floor and as she headed towards the door, she could see that it was ajar and dread slowed her movement to a slow walk.
What if he was dying? He was the closest thing she had to a father now; could she stand to lose him too? How much loss could one heart bear in a lifetime?
She paused before the open door and raised a hand to knock on the door frame before entering, but a voice stilled her movements.
“I’m married now, my darling and as much as it pains me to be parted from you, I have responsibilities as a husband.”
That was Max.
“And what about your responsibility to me? It’s me you love, remember?”
That awful French accent again. Even though she couldn’t smell it from here, Lucy could almost feel her nose itch from her overpowering perfume.
She heard Max sigh. “Honestly, Marie-“
“Carry on!” her tone brooked no argument, very different from the upset and emotional tone she had been using up until now.
“Very well.” Max gave a long suffering sigh again. “Needs must, my dear. She has money, position and a faultless reputation. As much as I love you, we would both be shunned had I chosen you for my bride.”
“You speak of love but you know nothing of it! Don’t you know how much it hurts me when you return to her? How awful I feel, knowing that you are sharing her bed, trying to produce heirs with her? What about our children? Why are they condemned to be bastards, when the children of a woman you don’t even love, get everything?”
Lucy couldn’t help the soft gasp that escaped her lips. Max already had children? How hadn’t she known that? She most certainly would not have married him if she had known that.
Suddenly his betrayal wasn’t just that he had kept his mistress after their wedding, he had been hiding parts of himself from her. She had thought them best friends but he hadn’t told her something as important as having children.
“You know that even if I married you, our children wouldn’t become legitimate.”
Lucy turned from the door and fled, suddenly as desperate to escape as she had been to get here. She felt as if her life had suddenly been turned upside down and she didn’t know what was real any more. If she couldn’t trust Max, who could she trust?
Her eyes began to fill with tears that blinded her and in her haste to escape, she tripped on the final flight of stairs, landing in a tangled heap at the bottom.
“My God!” She heard a man exclaim as he rushed over to her. “Lie still,” he urged.
She tried to push him away; she didn’t want help, she just wanted to get away. “Someone call for a doctor!” he yelled.
“No, I'm fine, just let me go,”
“You aren’t fine, please, let me call a doctor.”
“No, I have to get home, I must. Let me go!”
“Very well, as long as you allow me to accompany you.”
He allowed her to sit up now and handed her a handkerchief, which she used to wipe her eyes. She didn’t want this man to go home with her, she just wanted to be alone, all alone but if it would get her home faster, she would accept his assistance.
She allowed him to help her to her feet and thankfully, her carriage was still waiting outside. They climbed in, although the driver gave them both some odd looks.
“She had a bad fall,” the man told the driver. “I just want to make sure that she gets home all right.”
The driver nodded, accepting that explanation.
“Please hurry,” Lucy urged. She had managed to stem her tears for now but she wasn’t sure for how much longer she could keep her composure.
The man spoke to her during the carriage ride but Lucy didn’t reply, she didn’t even hear what he was saying; there was simply too much else swirling around in her mind at the moment. When they arrived at the house, he helped her down, being very solicitous. Lucy was grateful for the help as she was beginning to feel the bumps and bruises from her fall now, but she would have preferred to have the driver help her.
The gentleman saw her to the door but she was insistent that she was fine now. Finally he seemed to take the hint and after wishing her well and a speedy recovery, he doffed his hat and bid her farewell.
Lucy went inside and headed straight up to her room, ignoring the staff she passed on the way. She made it to the landing, when a crippling pain in the left side of her abdomen made her cry out and double over in pain.
The head chambermaid and her lady’s maid were at her side immediately and helped her the rest of the way to her room.
Lucy couldn’t help it; she began to cry almost hysterically.
The maids undressed her because her skirt was torn and although they tried to hide it from her, she saw the small red stain on her chemise, confirming her worst fears.
The chambermaid poked her head out of the door and in a hurried whisper, asked someone who was in the hallway to fetch a doctor.
Chapter Seven
Max threw down the pages he held. “I’m sorry, Marie, but that’s enough. This is the worst play I have ever read and if it ever does get produced, you would do well to avoid being associated with it.”
“But Max-“
“No. The whole first act is just a man arguing with his mistress. It’s banal, juvenile and overly melodramatic. I know I said I would help you with your dreams to become an actress but I will not finance this drivel.”
Marie bit her lip, wondering who might have heard his speech. “Please, darling, just finish the read through with me.”
“No!” He tried to release some of his frustration and took a deep breath, letting out a long sigh.
It had been a while ago that Marie had expressed a desire to act. At the time he had assured her that if that was her dream, he would do what he could to help her but she had never mentioned it again. On Tuesday at his club though, she had been insistent that he help her, reminding him of his promise. He had given her his word so although he would prefer to stay home with Lucy, he agreed to meet her at her rooms.
To be frank, she had been making something of a nuisance of herself at the club recently, constantly trying to entice him into bed, and it was becoming tiresome. He could have reported her behaviour and she would have
been banned from the premises, but he was well aware that her only source of income was from the gentlemen she met and serviced from the club, and he didn’t dislike her enough to see her destitute.
He had arrived about an hour ago, just as a messenger was leaving her rooms, and she had told him that she had a simply marvellous play that she wanted him to finance. Although he had been reticent, she and his guilt had talked him into agreeing to the read through that she wanted, but it had quickly become evident that this was nothing more than the self-indulgent ramblings of a novice writer (and that was being kind).
She looked so upset that he had stopped however, and he began to feel bad.
“Max, please, just read a little more, we-”
She was interrupted by a knock at the door, which Max was surprised to notice was slightly open. Marie went to answer it and the doorman was there with a message. She opened it, read it then slipped it into her pocket.
“Very well, Max, I know how stubborn you can be when you set your mind to something.”
Max wondered at her change in attitude but before he could contemplate it too much, she was sitting on his lap.
“How about if we forget the play for now and enjoy the pleasures that we used to.”
Max removed her arms from around his neck. “Marie, how many times do I have to tell you, I’m not interested in that any longer.”
“Until I believe it!” she snapped. “You couldn’t keep your hands off me two months ago and now, suddenly, I am unattractive.”
“You’re very attractive, Marie, and you know it, but I am a married man now and I love my wife.”
Suddenly it struck him how similar his words were to the play he had been reading.
Marie turned her back to him. “Fine, then go!” she snapped.
Max hated to fight with her; after all, she had been a huge relief to him before his marriage and it wasn’t her fault that his feelings for her had been eclipsed. Still, he wasn’t doing much good here and if he stayed, they would surely continue arguing. He got up and collected his coat and hat as he headed to the door, folding the play into his pocket, although he paused before leaving.
The Convenient Bride Page 6