Foolish Bride

by A. S. Fenichel

  “She wrote to me this morning asking after my health. She made no mention of her father or her wishes. I assume she will be happy to find a more appropriate husband now that she comes from a titled family.”

  Tom leaned back. “I doubt that’s the case. Elinor Burkenstock is devoted to you.”

  The agony shooting down his legs was nothing compared to the pain of losing Elinor. It was his own stupidity that led him to this. He should have stayed home and never taken one last assignment. “Devotions change in the face of power and money.”

  Tom pounded on the chair again. “I will not believe that. Look at all you have accomplished. Your father left this world and you with more liability than any man can overcome, and yet you paid off his debt and even managed to save the family home in the country.”

  “I appreciate your loyalty, but I have not done much. Stonehouse is a nice townhome, but it cannot compare to what an earl or a duke can provide for Elinor.”

  Tom shook his head. “Write to her. Tell her how you feel and see if she feels the same. Do not let your chance at happiness slip away because Malmsbury is a greedy fool.”

  “Elinor deserves a better life than I can provide, Tom. Even if my finances were enough, the doctors say it is unlikely I’ll ever father children. I can never be a proper husband to her.”

  Tom fidgeted, but kept his gaze locked on Michael. “You should trust her enough to make that choice on her own. Give her the opportunity to show you how much she loves you. I believe you will be happy with her.”

  It was too much. “You should go now. I am tired, and perhaps a draft of laudanum is just the thing I need.”

  Tom touched his arm. “I can stay and keep you company, Mike.”

  Even shaking his head increased the misery that took over his body and soul. “It will be better if I am alone. Besides, I cannot get my mother to leave Stonehouse no matter how I try. Go now. I’ll be fine.”

  Tom rose and squeezed his shoulder. “I will return tomorrow to check in on you.”

  Michael closed his eyes and waited for the door to shut behind his friend. He sank down into the pillows as his despair enveloped him.

  Mother arrived with his draft of bitter laudanum. He took it without argument, letting the drug blot out his sorrow and make him forget his desperation.

  The pain in the lower half of his body persisted, but his care about it fuzzed and faded until he no longer focused on anything and oblivion took him away.

  Chapter 2

  Elinor should have been a bride that morning. Instead, she stared out the window at the street as drizzle soured her already miserable mood.

  Virginia entered, pulling on her gloves. “Why don’t you come and pay a few calls with me, Elinor?”

  “No, thank you, Mother.” The last thing she wanted was to plaster a fake smile on her face and pretend everything was okay. Elinor made several lists, but her malaise continued.

  Mutual friends informed her that Michael was out of his sick bed.

  Even Mrs. Rollins had been kind enough to send a note expressing her regret and understanding.

  Elinor had written back thanking her for her kindness.

  She sent letter after letter to Michael, but received no response.

  When she left for the country estate, Mrs. Rollins sent a second note assuring Elinor that Michael was healing nicely. She did mention he remained in a particularly bad temper, but no longer required his mother’s care.

  After several attempts with her mother, she still didn’t understand the nature of his injury. While relieved that his long recovery was near its end, she hated him for not writing to ask after her wellbeing. Didn’t he care that she was devastated? He only thought of himself.

  Typical.

  “You cannot just sit in this parlor indefinitely.” Mother put her fists on her hips.

  Elinor had to push down her temper or she’d shriek her rage. “I am in no mood to frolic around town as if nothing is wrong. I will not pay calls today, or tomorrow, or the day after that. If that is not satisfactory for you, Mother, you should rethink your position on my marriage.”

  “I have no idea what has gotten into you.”

  “Really? I would have thought it quite clear.”

  Mother huffed, and her face turned red.

  The housekeeper peeked around Mother. “Lady Marlton and Lady Dorothea to see you, miss.”

  “Oh, thank goodness,” Virginia said.

  Elinor wished everyone would leave her alone. She stood as her closest friends entered.

  Virginia curtsied. “I am sorry, ladies, but I was just leaving. I am sure you will enjoy a nice visit.”

  Dory and Sophia expressed their regret for missing a visit with Elinor’s mother, then sat as Virginia exited.

  “How are you, Elinor?” Dory asked.

  “Fine.”

  “I am sure this is a difficult day for you.” Sophia leaned forward and kept her voice low.

  “I am fine.” Elinor smoothed her dress and stared out at the clouds rolling in over London.

  Dory sat next to her on the settee. “Elinor, we are here because we know you are hurting, and we are your friends.”

  Holding her tongue had gotten her nowhere, and holding her temper even less. “I do not need your pity. I am fine.”

  Sophia said, “Dory, perhaps Elinor would prefer to be alone today. We can come back another time, when she is more herself.”

  “Of course.” Dory got up. “If you need anything, Elinor, send for me.”

  Elinor bit the inside of her cheek to hold back the sharp comment building inside her.

  With a brief goodbye, her friends left her alone.

  Emotions were like a kettle on an open flame. Elinor tried to cool them, but to no avail.

  If Michael wouldn’t answer her letters, then she would go to him and see if he could as easily ignore her face-to-face. It was improper, but she brushed aside thoughts of society and right and wrong. She wrote a note addressed to Dolan, Michael’s butler, and told her maid to have it discretely delivered to Stonehouse.

  In return, Dolan wrote, “I shall make the arrangements.”

  * * * *

  Elinor lay across her bed, reading the same paragraph of her novel for the tenth time. Her attention would not focus on the words on the page. The lace coverlet distracted her, and she stared at the intricate pattern.

  “Elinor, your father and I are leaving now.” Virginia stood in the doorway.

  Elinor looked at her mother. “Enjoy your evening, Mother.”

  “Are you sure you would not like to change your mind and join us, dear?” Draped in royal blue, Mother was stunning. Virginia was perhaps a few inches taller than her daughter, but they both had warm golden hair and sky blue eyes. She rubbed the sapphires around her neck. Of course, Mother was uncomfortable; everyone in the house had tiptoed around her throughout the cursed day.

  “No, thank you, Mother. I will likely retire early this evening. You and Father enjoy your night. I will see you at breakfast.” Elinor fought back tears. She had to be brave. Now wasn’t the time to lose her nerve.

  Mother’s voice caught. “All right, dear. Good night.”

  Elinor waited for the carriage to pull away, then jumped up from her bed and dressed. She had sworn her maid to secrecy, as well as the footman who would put her into a hack.

  Nervously, she watched in the mirror while Josephine arranged her hair. Once dressed, she donned a heavy dark-blue mantle with a large hood that would conceal her identity. If she hadn’t been so anxious, she might have enjoyed the mystery of the clandestine behavior. As it was, she was so anxious it was only anger keeping her from running back to her bedroom as the footman handed her up into the hired carriage. Luckily, the servants liked her better than her father. Of course, if he found out they could lose their posts.

  Her father wouldn’t find out. And if he did, she would find a way to protect them.

  She
twisted her gloved hands in her lap and repeated a list of things she had to speak to Michael about. Before she knew it, the driver yelled down that they had arrived.

  At the door to Stonehouse, she tapped lightly. It was just after eight, but light shone from within. Perhaps he was in bed and still unable to take callers. Her legs shook, and when the door opened with Dolan looking serene, she chided herself for being a ninny. There would be no ghost swooping out to claim her. She pushed her shoulders back and took a deep breath.

  Dolan raised his brows. “Are you all right, my lady?”

  “Yes. Fine, Dolan. Just a bit on edge.”

  He was perhaps thirty years old and had been with the Rollins family since he was a teenager. His long nose and sharp eyes could assess a person’s character in an instant. “Sir Michael is in the library, Lady Elinor.” With a bow, he disappeared behind the servant’s door.

  Everything she was doing went against her upbringing. She would be ruined if word got out that she had gone unaccompanied to Sir Michael’s home in a hired hack in the middle of the night. Well, it wasn’t so late, but that wasn’t the point. She was risking everything, and she didn’t even know if Michael wanted to see her. She suspected he did not. It didn’t matter. This wasn’t about him for once. He had broken her heart without so much as a note of explanation.

  It wouldn’t do.

  Inching down the corridor toward the library, she secured her mantle in case any servants were watching. She stepped past the round table she’d ordered for the alcove beneath the stairs. It would look better several feet to the left, but she checked herself and left the table as it was.

  “This is not your home now,” she whispered as she continued down the hallway to the right.

  The library lay behind a pair of doors. Elinor raised her hand to knock, then took hold of the handle and opened the door without announcing herself.

  “Go away, Dolan. I left word not to be disturbed.”

  Her breath caught, and she had to clutch the wall. He was beautiful. Wrapped in a black robe with his back to her, he did not look sick. He stood tall, though perhaps thinner than the last time she’d seen him. His shoulders squared, he stared out into the dark garden.

  “It is not your butler, Michael.” Her voice shook, and she could have kicked herself for the weakness.

  His back stiffened before he turned around. His eyes were as blue as she remembered, but there were deep shadows beneath them. His dark brown hair was tussled as though he had been nervously raking his hands through it as he did when he had a lot on his mind.

  “What are you doing here?” His shout shook the walls. “Where is your father? He let you enter here without him? If it is money he wants for your dowry, well, I will see what I can do. I am not made of money as you well know, but I suppose it is expected.”

  Money? Had he lost his mind?

  He stared at the book case, then studied the intricacies of the Persian rug she had picked out three months earlier.

  “You think that I have come for money?”

  “Where is your father?” His voice was rough and cold. When he looked in her direction, his gaze did not meet hers.

  “My father is not here.” She took two steps into the library, then closed the doors behind her. She pushed back the hood of her cloak.

  “Your mother is waiting?” He crossed his arms and watched the door.

  “I am alone.” Hands shaking, she untied the knot at her neck and placed the cloak over the back of a chair. Her simple blue dress had been the most appropriate for a meeting of this kind, but its low neckline left her feeling exposed. Putting the cloak back on would appear cowardly.

  His eyebrows rose and then narrowed to a point between his eyes before he turned back to the window. “Go home, Elinor,”

  She stepped closer, amazed that her legs held her. “Not until I have what I came for.”

  He scoffed and stepped into the center of the room. There was a limp to his gait, and his jaw tightened. “I told you, if it’s money you want, I do not have much, but we shall work something out.”

  A tear escaped down her cheek. She dashed it away, and the anger replaced her sorrow. “I do not want your money, Michael.”

  Hands fisted at his side, he finally met her stare. “What is it then?”

  She approached him and touched his arm.

  He flinched, but she refused to back away.

  “I want to know why? I need to know if you ever loved me. I demand to know if everything you told me was a lie.” There, she’d said it. She dropped her hand away.

  He was pale and thin. Little of his robust figure shone through the robe. “I never lied to you.”

  “Then why?”

  He turned away again. “I would have thought your parents explained that to you already.”

  She kicked at the rug, unsure of how to continue.

  “Didn’t your mother explain?” Anger rolled through his words like an army.

  In all the time they’d courted, she had never seen any signs of temper from Michael. He’d always been kind and loving. Through her fear, her own anger pushed her on. She stood toe-to-toe with a clearly dangerous man. “I was told that our engagement was dissolved because you cannot father a child. I will admit it took my mother quite a long time to get around to explaining that much, and I do not actually think she knew any more. What I want to know is what that has to do with you crying off?”

  Then he turned. “I did not cry off. You did.”

  “I did no such thing.” She stomped her foot.

  “Then your father did.” His tone had gone flat.

  “He had no right. If you did not end our engagement, then why were we not married today?” She tried to sound sophisticated, but tears pushed to the surface. His attitude was so changed. She didn’t know him. Maybe she never had.

  “Your mother explained that.” He lumbered across the room and poured himself a rather large brandy. The smooth glide that she always admired was gone from his step.

  “So if we had married, then we found that I was barren, you would have tossed me over?” She was rather proud of how rational she sounded in spite of her sorrow and raging temper.

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” He swallowed half his brandy. His shoulders slumped.

  “Then why would you think that I would care?”

  “You do not understand.” The second half went down in one swallow.

  “Clearly. Perhaps you can explain it to me.”

  He was pouring a second glass and laughed rather madly.

  Perhaps she should not have come. This Michael was a stranger, and there was no telling what he was capable of. “I assume it has something to do with your injury. I know you think I am stupid, Michael, and perhaps I am naïve, but I did grow up on a farm. I know something of reproduction. What I do not understand is—could I have one of those?”

  He turned and looked at her.

  She nodded toward the brandy.

  His eyes grew wide before he shrugged, poured another, and handed it to her, making sure his fingers never touched hers. “I did not know you drank, Elinor.”

  “I do not, but I thought this might be a good time to begin.” She winced at the harsh taste, but enjoyed the warmth seeping into her chest.

  “Indeed.” He jerked away so quickly he nearly toppled.

  It was a struggle not to run to his aid. She took another sip, and it didn’t taste so bad. “What was I saying?”

  “What you do not understand.” He downed his drink and slapped the glass down on the table.

  “Yes. What I do not understand is why you would think that I would stop loving you or why you have stopped loving me. It occurred to me that perhaps you did not love me to begin with. That would explain your ease in abandoning me.” She wasn’t really talking to him, more to herself.

  “I did love you, Elinor. I did not lie.”

  “But no longer.”

  He wouldn’t meet her
gaze. He stared at every item in the room but her. “How did you get here?”

  “I came in a hack.” She squared her shoulders and drank more brandy.

  “Really, Elinor, what were you thinking? I shall have my carriage brought round to take you home.” He ambled toward the cord to call a servant.

  “No!”

  “No?”

  “I am not leaving until I have an explanation. I waited over a year for you. Then tonight I risked my reputation, came all the way over here in a hack, and I will not leave until you explain to me how you could do this.” She put down her empty glass. She was warm and exceedingly bold.

  He limped across the room and grabbed her by the arms.

  She squeaked in pain as his fingers bit into her flesh. She had always known that he could hurt her, but until that moment she never thought he would. It made no difference. She had loved him faithfully, but he obviously hadn’t loved her enough. She stood straighter and met his angry stare. “I assume you are going to strike me now. You may as well get it over with. I am not leaving, Michael, no matter what you do to me. I was supposed to be in this house today as your wife, and I will remain until I have what I came for.”

  He released her, but did not move away. He cocked his head and narrowed his eyes. “It’s an act. You act the fool, but it’s not who you really are.”

  “I would not call it an act.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

  “Wouldn’t you?”

  “No. I behave exactly as my mother and father wished me to behave. In this I am no different than the rest of the husband-seeking women of the ton.” She forced herself to keep her gaze locked with his.

  He shook his head. “No. I suppose not.”

  She touched his arm. “Michael, tell me what happened.”

  He flinched and moved away. “I am no longer the man I was, Elinor. I am sorry. Now I see that you are not who I thought you were either, so perhaps this is all for the best.”

  “You are saying that you do not love me anymore because I am not as stupid and vapid as you believed?” The horror sunk in, and she wanted to strike him.