Annamarie Kirkland, soon to be Snaith.
*
Grim-faced, Lord Clifford dismissed his groom, turned the horses and set off eastwards.
'The ship will have left,' Elizabeth said mildly, 'and we don't know the name.'
She had insisted on going with him, and they had left immediately.
'Yes, but I can discover the name, and then I will post down to Portsmouth, and get a boat to intercept it. She will be ruined if this becomes known.'
'Either she is ruined already, or married.'
'No responsible Captain would marry them on the ship.'
'They may have wed before going to the ship. She didn't say, but she was certain she would soon be married.'
'She is a minor. It would not be legal!'
'Crispin, consider. Even if you could intercept the ship and force her to come back, she will be ruined, and highly resentful. She will be wilder than ever.'
'She'll be locked up out of harm's way this time.'
Elizabeth laughed.
'Then you mean to behave like the wicked barons in the Minerva Press novels?'
'That's not the same.'
'How would you ever establish her with a husband and a home of her own? Do you wish to be responsible for her for the rest of her life? Have you not been wishing for someone to marry her and take on the responsibility? This has several advantages. She will be married, to a suitable man of good family, even though he is younger than perhaps you think wise. She will be on the other side of the world, unable to run back to you when, if, things go wrong, and you can be certain this would happen if she were in England, at the first quarrel. In a strange country perhaps she will think more carefully before she acts. She has an opportunity to grow up.'
'She'll probably run away and join some harem!' Lord Clifford said, but he seemed to be heeding her words. 'Elizabeth, I must at least check.'
She said no more, apart from demanding to go with him, but when they discovered that no fewer than three ships had left the London docks two days since, he finally admitted there was nothing he could do.
Slowly they drove back to Berkeley Square, but as they turned into it Lord Clifford, who had been silent all the way, suddenly spoke.
'Elizabeth, I would like to keep this news to ourselves for an hour or two. I have arrangements to make. Can you avoid everyone, and come to me in the library at noon?'
He would be going home, and so would they. There was no point in remaining in London, and many people had already left, the company was thin. He would also have to decide what to do about Lady Palgrave, now her chaperonage was no longer required.
She slipped up to her room unseen, and began to plan her own departure. They had expected to stay a further week, but she wanted to be gone as soon as they could manage it. She and her mother could drive down to Kent on the following day, leaving Joan and Meg to pack and bring the luggage later. Mama would complain at the haste, and the fact Joan would not be there to minister to her, but Elizabeth knew she could, if necessary, overcome these objections. Henry might wish to remain in London, but the hunting season had started, and he would not wish to miss too many meets.
*
At noon, she went downstairs and entered the library. Lord Clifford was not seated behind the big table, as she had expected, but standing in front of the fire.
'Elizabeth, come in,' he said, and came across to take her hand to draw her forward. 'At last, I feel free to speak to you. Heaven knows, I have wanted to ask you almost from the moment we met, but I had this child, this responsibility, on my hands, and I could not ask you to share it with me. It has been tearing me apart, but now, I am free to ask you, will you be my wife?'
Elizabeth felt incapable of replying, but the look she gave him must have been sufficient answer. She was wrapped in his arms, and he was kissing her, so that now she could not speak, until, laughing, he released her and pulled her to sit on his knees.
'My darling, when? Soon, to make up for all this time I have delayed?'
'Crispin!' was all she could say.
Suddenly, it felt as though a great weight had been lifted from her spirit. After Sir Percy, she had feared she could never again trust any man sufficiently to give herself to him, but over the weeks and months she had known Lord Clifford, that fear had gone. She had often thought, in the past few weeks, that he was becoming fond of her, and she was well aware she had more than fond feelings for him. Annamarie had stood in the way.
'I would have been happy to try and help you with her,' she said softly.
'Yes, for you have courage. But she was unstable, could be violent, and you were right, she did believe she loved me. She told me so. I could not risk it. She would have been perfectly capable of harming you, if she felt you had supplanted her. I haven't ever told anyone, but just after my father died and I came home, I once found her in the woods, when she was only just thirteen, with a rabbit that had been caught in a snare. It was not dead, and she had taken it out and was pricking it with a knife. She had lit a small fire and admitted she was going to tie the poor animal up so that it could not escape, and burn it alive.'
'Crispin, no! How could anyone do that?'
'She could. And maybe worse. I never again discovered her in any such behaviour, and possibly she had become more wary and made sure I did not. But I never again trusted her. I never left the dogs with her, and they were wary. Either she had once tried to hurt them, or they sensed her malevolence and kept their distance. I was certain you would have been in danger, so I could not risk her discovering I loved you.'
Elizabeth shuddered, and he held her close.
'My darling, forgive me! I should not be talking of such horrors. When can we be wed, and do you wish to be wed at Markby, in that old church in your village? How long will it take you to be ready? I warn you, I am an impatient man.'
*
Chapter 16
When Henry was told of Annamarie's elopement, later that day, he merely shrugged.
'Poor devil,' he said.
'You do mean Felix, don't you?' Lord Clifford asked, grinning.
'Well, yes. I imagine she'll twist him round her little finger. He's a good fellow, Felix, but he won't be able to control her starts. I don't suppose I could have done, either.'
'That's a handsome admission, brother!'
Henry frowned at her.
'I'm too young. Of course, if I'd been five years older it would have been different.'
'Of course!'
'Believe me, and I am thirteen years older than you, there would be no such guarantee. That child has the very devil in her.'
'I suppose it will be different in India, and hasn't Felix got uncles there? Probably female relatives, too, and they'll show her how to go on. Perhaps it won't be too bad. I hope not, for his sake. Now I have to go out. Jeremy is having a card party in his rooms.'
Elizabeth looked at Lord Clifford.
'Crispin, ought we not to tell him?'
'Tell me what?'
Lord Clifford nodded.
'Henry, as head of your family – '
Henry looked astonished.
'You've never called me that before. In fact, I always thought you considered me the least important member of my family! Elizabeth too,' he added, glaring at her as she giggled.
'Nevertheless, I say it now. I have asked Elizabeth to be my wife, and she has agreed. I trust you approve.'
'Fat chance if I didn't. Beats me why you didn't ask her weeks ago. It was quite obvious that was what was coming. Now I'd better be off, or I'll be late.'
Elizabeth collapsed into laughter.
'Oh, my brother! That's all the notice he takes of the news.'
'I doubt your mother will be so casual.'
'No, and we had better be prepared for questions, exclamations, recriminations, speculations, and any other emotions she can dredge up.'
'You will not permit her to persuade you to have a long engagement, I hope?'
'No, my lord, for you are
getting ancient, are you not, and I am no spring chicken.'
'When we are wed I will show you how ancient I am. Come here, I will begin with a few kisses.'
They were engaged in this pleasurable activity when there was a knock on the door. Elizabeth hastily patted her hair and retreated to the far side of the room.
'Come in,' Lord Clifford said, a query in his voice.
When Dawson appeared he frowned.
'Since when have you knocked to enter the library?' he asked.
Dawson glanced across as Elizabeth.
'I thought it more tactful, my lord.'
'Well, you were right! Congratulate me, Dawson.'
'I wish you both well, my lord, Miss.'
'Thank you. But what did you want?'
'Mr George Winton is here, my lord. He desires to speak with Miss Markby. If it is convenient.'
'Show him in.'
'What does Felicity's husband want, I wonder?' Elizabeth asked, coming forward to greet her friend's husband.
George, who she had always considered a little pompous, came in, greeted them both punctiliously, accepted a glass of Madeira, and was persuaded to sit down near the fire.
'Is Felicity ill? Or one of the children?'
'No, no, nothing like that. But as I was coming up to town on business, I offered to come and tell you the news. Felicity has written, but I wanted to inform you myself. And answer your questions, for I am sure you will have some.'
Elizabeth restrained her impatience. She knew George would get to the point more quickly if allowed to ramble on.
'The fellow who stole your school's books in Kent has been caught,' he said.
'He has? At Felicity's school? How? Oh, but that's excellent news. Tell me, George, how did you do it?'
'Felicity told you she had employed a guard? Last night, he saw a small gig draw up near the schoolroom, and he watched. The fellow, there was only one, he had been driving, broke one of the windows and climbed in. When our man went in after him he was stuffing some books into a portmanteau. Felicity said they were the most valuable. Then he tried to tear some of the others, but our man prevented him, and knocked him on the head, and while he was unconscious, he bound him up, and used his own gig to take him to the nearest magistrate. He's now in the lockup.'
'But who is it? And did he admit to the theft in Kent, as well?'
'He had to, he had those books in another portmanteau. Felicity knew what you had in your other school. And he had left the gig at a stable in Uckfield while he posted back to town. He squealed when Felicity identified him. Kept quiet before that. Once the cat was out of the bag he was hoping for leniency, I suppose.'
Elizabeth tried to conquer her impatience.
'But who is it?'
'Didn't I say? It was Sir Percy Royle.'
'That man?' Elizabeth began to laugh. 'It's so like him! After those fierce threats. We thought him capable of abducting Annamarie and demanding a ransom, when all he can think of to hurt me is to steal or ruin a few books!'
'Abduction? What's this?'
They explained, and George shook his head in disgust.
'What will happen to him?' Elizabeth asked.
'Not a great deal, I suspect, though thefts of less value can result in transportation. He'll probably claim it was a joke, and offer to repay. You know how the law treats men of property differently from poor starving devils who steal to feed their families.'
Elizabeth frowned. Lord Clifford took her hand in his.
'But the man will never dare show his face in London again. I discovered he has a small property in Ireland, one that came with his wife, and almost the only thing he had left. I think he will be persuaded to go and live there.'
*
Lady Markby, when told of Elizabeth's engagement, began to cry.
'Mama, don't! I want you to be pleased for me.'
It was, Elizabeth thought, not going to be easy to reconcile her mother to the notion. She had for years regarded her as a permanent companion, and she hated any change in her circumstances.
'Well, yes, of course I am,' she sobbed. 'Haven't I always said I wished you to be married to a good husband, with a home of your own, and children? But I'll lose you! What will I do without you?'
Elizabeth thought she had not heard a great deal of these sentiments in the past, and cast a wry look at his lordship. She had warned him her mother would prove difficult, but at the same time had reassured him that nothing would prevent their marriage, certainly not Lady Markby's histrionics.
Lord Clifford knelt down beside his future mother-in-law and took her hand.
'I think I may have a solution to that. Now my wretched ward has gone, Lady Palgrave is without employment, and I doubt she would wish to stay on at Crossways. But you are good friends. It would solve more than one problem if she could come and live with you, to be your companion.'
Lady Markby looked up, and wiped her eyes.
'Have you asked her?' she demanded.
He looked shocked.
'Of course not. I would not presume to try and make such personal arrangements without consulting you first. But you can, if you choose, employ someone else as a companion.'
'I don't want a stranger, fussing me. I'll think about it. Now, leave me with Elizabeth. I need to talk with her.'
*
Elizabeth emerged from her mother's room an hour later, to find Lord Clifford seated on a chair nearby. He raised his eyebrows.
'Well? My darling, you look utterly exhausted. Was she difficult?'
'I do not wish you to believe I am turning into a woman who will be regularly foxed, Crispin,' she said carefully, 'but I think a glass – or two – of your excellent Madeira would not come amiss.'
He laughed, and she had to shush him, indicating the door of Lady Markby's room.
'Come, I will help you to become inebriated,' he whispered, and began ostentatiously to creep towards the staircase.
Laughing, she followed him, and soon they were sitting side by side on a somewhat small sopha, so that he was forced to put his arm round her shoulders and hold her tightly.
'Was it painful?'
'No more than I expected, but after a while she began to think what a triumph it would be to inform her friends of the excellent match I had made, with her contrivances, of course. And how clever she had been to think of asking Lady Palgrave to be her companion. She is planning a summer wedding next year.'
'That, my beloved, is where I will make a determined stand. I shall cry off this betrothal if I am not permitted to marry you before Christmas. This year,' he added.
'If only it could be so soon!'
'It will be. Then we will go and celebrate Christmas at Crossways, you shall plan what changes you wish to make in the house, and we will leave them to it while we take a wedding journey somewhere. Now, have you any preference, or shall we simply cross over to Calais and wander where the spirit moves us?'
'That, Crispin, would be perfect!'
*
They were married three weeks later, and left immediately for Crossways.
Lady Palgrave had accepted with alacrity Lady Markby's invitation to become her companion in Elizabeth's place. Henry, in high spirits now he was not committed to Annamarie, had accepted Jeremy Thoroughgood's invitation to join him at his father's hunting box for a few weeks.
It was late at night when they reached Crossways, but they wanted to spend their wedding night in their own home. The servants had closed up Berkeley Square, and gone to prepare for them. Meg and Crispin's valet had left immediately after the wedding, travelling post so as to be at Crossways by the time their master and mistress arrived, leaving Joan and Henry's valet to help them out of their wedding finery and into travelling clothes.
One of Crispin's gifts to Elizabeth had been a sable cloak, and she had been glad of it, and the hot bricks which warmed her feet in the coach, for it was bitterly cold. When he held her in his arms during the journey, though, she had forgotten the cold.
/> 'I thought this day would never come,' Crispin said as they arrived at Crossways. The avenue of tall trees was bare of leaves, and ice covered the lake. Frost patterned the windows, but every window was ablaze with light, a glorious welcome after the long, cold drive.
Dawson opened the door and footmen came hurriedly to unload the trunks.
'Come right in, my lord, my lady. The staff will welcome you inside, it's far too cold to keep everyone out of doors.'
The traditional welcome of a new mistress took place in the great hall. The servants, including the estate gardeners and the tenant farmers, with their families, were lined up in rows, and Crispin, smiling in delight, led Elizabeth along the rows and solemnly introduced her to all of them, including those she already knew.
They had just reached the end when one of the kitchen maids, muttering that the spit needed attention, tried to slip through the door which led to the kitchens. She was almost knocked off her feet by the excited dogs, who rushed first to welcome Crispin, and then turned to Elizabeth and begged her to pat them.
She complied, laughing.
'They remember me,' she said in delight.
'They will have to wait for more attention until tomorrow.'
Dawson came forward.
'My lord, my lady, I have instructed them to lay a light repast on a table in your suite. You will not again be disturbed.'
Crispin grinned at him.
'How did you know that was what I would wish?'
'It is what I would wish in your position, my lord. On behalf of all of us here, I wish you both a long and happy life.'
He clapped his hands, and all the servants and tenants vanished, to where Dawson told them there was a supper awaiting them in the servant's hall.
'I thought it would be better to have a welcome meal at Christmas. You must be weary after that long drive, on such an important day.'
Crispin looked at him, and they exchanged smiles.
'Not too weary,' Crispin said softly. 'Come, my love, supper awaits.'
He led the way up to the antiquities gallery, and to his own suite. She had never been in it before, and gasped at the size. It was much larger than the one her mother had occupied at the other end of the house, and Crispin explained that it had enclosed what would have been part of the gallery.
Lord Clifford's Dilemma Page 19