Marriage Made in Money

by Sophia James

  ‘You have questions?’

  ‘Mama is always telling us that we should be docile and sweet and that embroidery and tapestry and reading are the kind of things a husband will be looking for in a marriage. But our brother has been pursued by women for years and years and he did not choose someone like that at all...’ The rambling came to a stop as the girl realised what she was saying.

  Amethyst picked her words carefully. ‘Our marriage might have been a little different from others, Gwendolyn, but I would say to you to be honest to yourself. Be the person you wish to become and follow the interests you want to pursue. Only then will you find a husband who will truly suit you.’

  ‘I love riding and horses and if I could I would live in the country. Mama and Caroline are more interested in gowns and boots and bonnets.’ She hesitated before carrying on. ‘Are things like fashion and hairstyles important to you, Lady Montcliffe?’

  Despite herself Amethyst laughed. ‘Not especially. I have only ever had a few gowns at a time and my hair is much too short to do a lot with. From what I can see society seems to dedicate a great amount of time to what one looks like, but I was always too busy helping my father balance books and sourcing timber to care.’

  ‘But you are rich? Richer than anyone else we know?’ Gwen’s blue eyes flashed fiercely. ‘Mama says you come from trade, but it seems to me that you know a lot more than I ever will. You are free to learn things, different things, and in the end you still get to marry an Earl.’

  Amethyst did not know whether to tell her of the nature of their union, but then decided against it, choosing to let Daniel’s sister see the possibilities before her and not the problems.

  ‘If you would like to come up to Montcliffe Manor to stay with us for a while, you would be most welcome. We could ride together and you could show me the places you liked as a girl when you were here.’

  A heavy frown settled across the young brow.

  ‘We did not come here much because Mama never enjoyed it and after Papa died in a riding accident my mother never wanted to stay at Montcliffe Manor.’

  ‘Then we will find new memories, Gwendolyn.’

  ‘Gwen. All my true friends call me Gwen.’

  Amethyst smiled. My God, could it be just this easy to fit in? Could the women of the ton be exactly like those from the other parts of society; some difficult, some judgemental and others only searching for their way in life? Like Gwen was.

  The pathway into the future suddenly did not look so impossible. Amethyst liked Christine Howard and now she understood Daniel’s younger sister better, too. How many friends did one truly need?

  Reaching over, she took the girl’s hand in her own. ‘You will find all the things that you need to, Gwen, I promise, and if there is anything that Daniel and I could help you with you have only to ask.’

  ‘Could you teach me how to wield a knife?’ The query came back quickly.

  ‘Absolutely.’ There were no qualms at all in her answer.

  * * *

  Lucien Howard was at the lunch table when Amethyst came down, as was Daniel, her father and Julia McBeth. Today her husband wore all black, the darkness of his clothes making him look even more dangerous than he normally did.

  ‘I hear felicitations are in order, Lady Montcliffe. Pity I was not invited.’ Lucien’s voice held a good deal of humour within it.

  Daniel’s didn’t. ‘Lucien has come to pick up his brother.’

  ‘I see. How does Andrew fare this morning?’

  Lord Ross shrugged. ‘He should be down joining us any second. From his recounting of the tale he was the hero of the hour.’

  The subject of their musings arrived just as he finished the sentence.

  ‘Who are you saying was the hero of the hour, Luce?’ Today a black bruise on Andrew’s chin had darkened and he used a crutch to walk.

  ‘You are, Drew.’

  Daniel supplied that and his tone sounded grateful. ‘If you had not insisted on accompanying my sisters on their foolish journey from London, God knows what else could have happened.’

  Charmingly the boy blushed and Amethyst looked away at her father who was in conversation with Julia. The widow brought out the best in Robert and she was glad to see his plate piled high. A new sort of contentment began to fill the empty corners of the past and she caught Daniel’s eyes upon her before looking away. The right one had swelled up even further in the night, making him look dissolute.

  She wanted to kiss him again, she wanted him to hold her against his warmth and never let go. Her ridiculous heart was beating faster than it normally did just on that one small glance and when she lifted her fork she saw her hand shake.

  ‘You seem flustered this morning, my dear. Perhaps it is the lingering effects of yesterday’s adventure?’ Robert remarked.

  ‘Perhaps.’ When her father smiled in that particular way her heart sank. She had never been a good liar, that was the trouble. She had never been one of those people who could conceal everything behind an implacable mask.

  Like her husband.

  ‘It seems we will be at Montcliffe longer than we had anticipated, but I must say that the area is growing on me. The rolling hills and the greenness and the peace of it all.’ Papa was effusive in his praise and Julia laughed.

  ‘Everybody says that after a few days’ residence. I could never understand why the Lady Wylde did not come here more often. If it were mine, I should never leave it.’

  ‘But you live here now, do you not?’ Papa sounded more than interested.

  ‘Only for another few weeks. I will be travelling north to stay with my sister after that.’

  Again Amethyst saw a look on her father’s face that made her puzzled, but she could dwell on it no longer as the door opened and a well-dressed woman she had never seen before stood before Daniel, a look of utter disdain upon her beautiful face.

  ‘I have come to take your sisters home, Daniel,’ she said, her voice imperious and harsh. ‘I also presume that this woman’s presence here means that this foolish alliance of yours has already taken place much against my wishes.’ Her disdainful glance swept over Amethyst without the slightest degree of interest.

  ‘Indeed it has, Mother,’ the Earl replied frostily as he stood. ‘This is my wife, Lady Amethyst Montcliffe, and her father, Mr Robert Cameron. I think you know all of the rest.’

  ‘I do.’ Lady Montcliffe made no attempt at niceties whatsoever.

  ‘If you would wait in the library, I will come to you directly, Mother, for there are a few things I need to tell you. Gwendolyn and Caroline shall be readied to leave presently.’

  But the newcomer was going nowhere. ‘Is that you, Andrew Howard? Was it you who put this nonsense into the girls’ heads and led them on to a merry goose trail that could have ended in such tragedy?’

  The bravado on Andrew’s face wilted, though it seemed Lord Montcliffe had had enough of his mother’s poor manners as he took her by the arm and shepherded her from the room.

  ‘Daniel’s mother was always a difficult woman,’ Lucien offered into the silence. ‘And his father was little better. Daniel would come and stay with my family most holidays and, looking back, I cannot even remember one where he went home. Nigel came too, sometimes, but he was melancholic and nervous.’

  ‘When he died I didn’t feel surprised, really.’ Andrew spoke up now. ‘Mama used to say that he was not long for this world, remember?’

  Lucien took up the tale now. ‘Well, Daniel looked after him as best he could, but sometimes even he lost his patience and that’s saying something. Nigel was in London when he got home from La Corunna. Daniel had a fever and a leg that looked like it might be septic and he’d lost so much weight from dysentery that the doctors thought he wouldn’t make it, yet Nigel only talked incessantly about his own problems. Daniel yelled at him to go away and come back when he was in a better mood, but Nigel was killed in a hunting accident two days later here at Montcliffe.’

  ‘And Daniel bla
med himself?’

  Her words fell into the silence and Lucien looked at her quizzically.

  ‘I think he did. He seldom spoke of his brother afterwards.’

  Glancing around at Julia, Amethyst saw her worried blue eyes were swimming in tears.

  * * *

  Lucien walked into the library late in the afternoon as Daniel was tidying up the deeds from the minister and filing them into the family bible. A marriage of convenience this might be, but it would be recorded in posterity as real. Daniel was glad for that. After yesterday he understood his bride was not the trembling sort of girl that was so predominant in society. No, Amethyst Amelia knew how to wield a knife and ride a horse with the best of them.

  Lucien looked more than concerned. ‘Could I speak to you, Daniel, in confidence?

  The serious tone of his oldest friend alerted him to the fact that something was wrong. ‘Of course. Is Andrew—?’

  He didn’t finish as Lucien broke in. ‘After the fracas at the Herringworth ball I took it upon myself to look further into the death of Mr Gerald Whitely and there are things I think you should know.’

  Closing the cover of the family bible, Daniel sat down.

  ‘What things?’

  ‘He spent an inordinate amount of time at the Grey Street brothel and word has it that he...he liked to play rough.’

  ‘Damn.’

  ‘My thoughts exactly.’

  ‘Define rough.’

  ‘He gave several of the women there black eyes and split lips. Worse if anyone ever mentioned his...affliction.’

  ‘Affliction?’

  ‘He had had some sort of accident to the groin as a child. I don’t know what damage it caused.’

  Lord. Had Amethyst ever been hurt by him? he wondered.

  Lucien wasn’t finished. ‘Perhaps Miss Cameron failed to tell you of the relationship between them because it was so terrible. Not lying exactly, just a bending of the truth. She never kept the bastard’s surname because...’ He tailed off.

  ‘Because he was a bully. Because she was glad he was dead.’ Daniel finished the thought for him.

  Amethyst with her knife in hand and the ability to use it well. Had she learnt because she had had to? Because she’d had a husband who had taken his anger out on her?

  His eyes went to the clock. Too late to try and find out the truth tonight. Yet would she want him to confront her with it tomorrow? His wife was proud, independent and capable and her marriage to Gerald Whitely must be something she would have liked to have forgotten about altogether. He needed her to tell him of it, on her own terms and in her own time.

  As a confidant, not an interrogator.

  If he picked his moment and had patience she would come to understand that she could trust him.

  Finishing his drink, Daniel poured himself another and indicated to Lucien to join him.

  Chapter Ten

  The next morning began with a fire in one of the cottages and so Daniel was called down to deal with that until well into the afternoon.

  When he got back John, the old stablemaster, was waiting for him on the front steps of Montcliffe.

  ‘There has been a mishap, my lord, with Deimos. I took him out into the fields after lunch and he got frisky with a few of the mares. Before I knew it he had taken the fence and gone over into the next paddock, but as he came back one of the younger fillies got in his way and there was a tumble. The long and the short of it, my lord, is that your stallion has a gash on his left fetlock. I knew ye’d want to be dealing with it yourself, so I came up here to find you.’

  ‘How bad is it?’

  ‘Bad enough, I think.’

  Daniel’s heart sank at the implications. Deimos had been with him in the gruelling Peninsular Campaign and the big black stallion had won over his heart.

  Turning for the stables, he was surprised to see his wife waiting for him around the first corner of the building. He was glad that she had dispensed with the brown hairpiece altogether and he wished he might have been able to simply grab her hand and lead her off somewhere to talk. But with Deimos injured his priority lay in the stables. Still, he liked the way she smiled at him, her short golden curls making her look like a beautiful woodland sprite.

  ‘I heard about the accident.’

  Her voice was concerned as she stepped into the space beside him. John behind them kept up a low monologue of the way things had transpired all the way to the stables.

  ‘Stay here,’ Daniel ordered when they reached Deimos’s stall, positioning Amethyst on the other side of the half-door and closing it behind him. Inside Deimos stood, head hanging near the ground and the air of injury about him tangible.

  Moving slowly, Daniel went to the steed’s head, allowing the stallion the knowledge of him being there, as he turned his hand against the big muzzle and let him sniffle.

  ‘What’s happened?’ he crooned. ‘I leave you for but a moment and you’re hurt. And no war either. Just fillies,’ he added, clicking his tongue as the horse raised its head to look straight at him. ‘They’re always trouble, lad, and it’s a fine wonder you have not figured that one out yet.’

  * * *

  Worry sat in the quiet words and the love between them was obvious. By his own admission Amethyst knew that Deimos had carried him through months of chaos in Spain and that they had come home together on the lighters through the winter storms in the Bay of Biscay. What sort of bonds would something like that forge? The tone of his admonishment softened into a whisper as strong fingers slid across a dark topline to the left-hand flank and settled on the leg beneath.

  As he knelt, Amethyst balanced on the stall door in order to see better, though when the stallion’s tail began to twitch she was suddenly afraid he might kick out.

  ‘Careful.’ She tried to keep her voice low, but the anxiety within had both of them looking up at her in surprise.

  ‘He won’t hurt me. He is as steady as a rock, are you not, Deimos, and we have been in far worse scrapes than this one.’

  As if the stallion understood he simply turned his head away and stayed still. The stoic lines of the beautiful animal made Amethyst’s eyes moisten.

  ‘Is it bad?’ When Daniel lifted the injured leg from the ground she held her breath as the blood dripped beneath. If he had sliced open a vein...?

  ‘It’s a tear from the knee to the fetlock, but by the looks of it it’s missed all the major tendons and arteries,’ Daniel answered as he placed the leg down again.

  A jagged diagonal wound came into her view, the skin pulled back to reveal the muscle beneath. She noticed he didn’t touch it with his fingers, but skirted around the outside as though feeling for something.

  ‘He’ll recover,’ he said finally. ‘With a little luck and some hard work he will be fine again. I’ll get the supplies I need now and stay down here with him tonight.’

  The light was falling and the dusk burnished Daniel’s hair as he stood. Pulled into a loose queue at his nape, the leather ties were fraying at each end. His beauty never ceased to startle Amethyst. Daniel Wylde’s was not a pretty sort of beauty, but a dangerous menacing magnificence that eclipsed all other men. Like the sun in the daytime sky or the full moon hanging low on a summer’s eve, one could not remain unaware of his presence. Christine Howard had expressed it well when she had helped her in the preparations for the ball.

  ‘Montcliffe is the man all the girls of the ton want to take home, but I think he would eat them up before they ever had the chance to tame him.’

  Smiling at such folly Amethyst looked about her. Once the Montcliffe stables must have been magnificent, she mused, for even now in its faded glory the marbled manger and decorative filigree walls caught her attention. Craftsmen had laboured here long and hard on wood and metal and glass. Beneath her feet the floor was inlaid with small stones fitted into patterns that would be easy on horny hooves.

  The head groomsman had returned to stand beside her. ‘It were a strange accident, my lord, and I am so
rry for it. One moment I had his head and the next...’

  ‘I don’t hold you at fault, John, but if you could find some empty pails and clean cloths I’d be grateful. I’ll get what else I need from the kitchens.’

  ‘Ye’ll do the mending yourself then, my lord?’

  ‘I will.’

  Daniel had slipped through the door to rejoin her, his mind on the tinctures and ointments he would need, she supposed, a man who would not easily let others do something he could manage himself. Her heart swelled with a kind of aching want; to reassure him, to hold him close against all disappointment, to make this injury disappear and see Deimos well again.

  ‘I would like to help.’

  His glance ran across her gown and he smiled, the lines around his eyes deep in the twilight.

  ‘I’ll find something else more appropriate to wear,’ she added, trying to keep the pleading from her query.

  ‘Very well. It will take me a good half-hour to rustle up the things I need from Mrs Orchard in the kitchen. If you meet me there...’

  Walking briskly down the aisle of stones for the doorway, she was glad to go before he had the chance to change his mind.

  * * *

  His wife had not only swapped her clothes, but she had been transformed into a lad, complete with breeches and a shirt. No small metamorphosis either, her legs well defined in the tight pantaloons and the shirt buttons undone around the neck. The most surprising thing was that the outfit looked as though it had been made for her.

  ‘Papa and I travelled in Spain together a few years back. It was easier as father and son at times. I always wore a substantial hat,’ she added as his scowl deepened, ‘and a coat in public. A long one and well buttoned.’

  He wanted to tell her to go and find a jacket now, but the hour was advancing and Deimos needed attention. He hoped John, the old stablemaster, had retired for the night.

  Amythest’s bottom before him as they traversed the path was round and curvy, little hidden in the cut of cloth or the line of her legs. His wife was tying him in knots and enjoying it for he could see the jaunty lilt in her walk as she turned into the doorway of the stables.