What now? “Does this mysterious event involve my brother?”
“I’m afraid that it does, your grace.”
“Is the carriage ready? Have you sent for Evans and Digby?”
“I have, your grace, they are waiting in the vestibule.”
Ralph strode through the Hall grateful that at least the evening was clement and he would not have to put on his topcoat or gloves before departing. He gestured to the two men hovering by the front door and they trooped after him. A closed carriage was standing outside, the team of four matched bays no doubt eager to be done with this escapade.
The carriage rocked as he climbed in, Evans and Digby caused less movement. Being so large was a damnable nuisance and unbalancing the carriage was the least of it. “Have you any idea what my brother has done this time?” He addressed the remark to the far side of the carriage; one or other of the men would have the information he wanted.
Evans cleared his throat. “It would appear, your grace, that Lord Rupert is in his cups and urged on by his friend has decided to pay his addresses to Miss Ashley.”
This was the last time his younger brother would embarrass him. He had been too lenient. He had paid his gambling debts and extricated him from several unfortunate liaisons—but enough was definitely enough. From now on his younger brother would have his allowance curtailed until he came to his senses. Rupert must live a blemish free life and not continue to cause their beloved mother so much pain. He should have stepped in sooner but, since mama’s accident, he had been loath to upset her by curbing the excesses of her favourite son.
The carriage completed the journey in a quarter of an hour. Ralph jumped from the vehicle without waiting for the steps to be lowered. Thank God all was quiet outside the vicarage, no lights on in the house and no crowd of disapproving villagers gawping at his brother’s latest tomfoolery.
He stood listening. Yes, he could hear voices further down the lane. “With me, Digby, Evans, Shalford is on his way. We have arrived in time to prevent an unmitigated disaster.”
As he walked briskly towards the two indistinct shapes Ralph became more incensed with each step he took. He was heartily sick of being dragged from his bed to attend to this young puppy’s misdemeanours, or being obliged to go to Town in order to settle his brother’s debts.
Fortunately there was sufficient moonlight to see without the necessity of taking the lanterns from the coach. “Rupert, enough of this nonsense. Bid your friend good night and come with me.”
His brother staggered against the tall brick wall and stared blearily at him. “Ralph, what you doing here? Come to help me wake up my future bride?”
Ignoring his brother’s equally inebriated companion Ralph stepped up and gripped Rupert’s arm. “No, you nincompoop, I’ve come to take you home before you make a bigger fool of yourself than usual.”
“But Jack says Miss Ashley smiled at me when we passed in the street this afternoon. Must mean she likes me, don’t you see?”
“No doubt she did, for some reason the fair sex find you an attractive fellow. However, that’s no excuse for larking about in the middle of the night. I can assure you we shall discuss it in detail tomorrow morning.” Allowing his brother no room for manoeuvre he took one elbow and Evans took the other. Together they marched him to the carriage where Digby was waiting to pull him in.
By the time the coachman had turned the vehicle Rupert was snoring loudly in the corner. His sibling was a constant trial but he loved him dearly. His lips curved as he recalled the day his parents had called him into mama’s bedchamber. He had been almost ten years of age and as pleased with the new arrival as they had been. Rupert was the image of his doting mother, blonde curls, periwinkle blue eyes and an elegant physique. Whereas he had the lion eyes of his father, hair the colour of mud and was the size of an elephant.
Rupert’s nature was affectionate and he was universally adored. He thrived on the attention and looked up to his big brother especially after their papa had died from an apoplexy some years ago. Perhaps if his brother had been more firmly disciplined he would not have turned out the way he had. He was mixing with a rackety crew whose influence was not beneficial to one lacking in maturity and common sense. Thank the good Lord Rupert would not have access to his inheritance until he was five and twenty, unless he married before that date.
Ralph jerked upright. So that was why Simmons and tried to persuade his brother to pay his addresses to the vicar’s daughter. The leeches who had attached themselves to Rupert were after a share of his fortune. If Rupert had himself a wife he would be his own master and able to dispose of his money as he wished. Over his dead body! He would do whatever it took to protect Rupert from himself until his younger brother was sensible enough to take care of his estates and fortune himself.
*
Grim faced, Ralph awaited the appearance of his brother in his study. The time was already past noon and there was still no sign of him. He had promised Mama he would go upstairs after the interview and tell her what had been decided. Noisy footsteps in the corridor announced the arrival of his errant sibling. Not bothering to knock Rupert barged in, his eyes bloodshot and his expression belligerent.
“Well, let’s get it over with. I don't want a bear-garden jaw, I can tell you. My head’s thumping like a drum.”
“And a good morning to you, brother. I have ordered strong coffee to be brought; sit down, and stop scowling like a recalcitrant schoolboy.”
Rupert almost grinned as he dropped heavily into the chair on the opposite side of the desk. “I don’t appreciate being dragged out of bed by my valet. If Evans weren't so useful I’d give him his marching orders.”
The rattle of crockery heralded the arrival of the much-needed aromatic brew.
Ralph waved away the footman Preferring to pour the coffee himself. Cook had also sent a selection of pastries, scones and bread-and-butter. No point in offering Rupert anything to eat, after one of his heavy drinking sessions his digestion was in turmoil for several days.
“Here, drink your coffee. Do you want anything else?” His brother shook his head and swallowed his coffee loudly. “Forgive me if I do, I’ve yet to break my fast this morning and, unlike you, am not suffering from an attack of self-inflicted biliousness.”
Ralph helped himself to bread-and-butter and cup of coffee before resuming his seat. He waited until his brother looked up before speaking again. “Rupert, last night’s nonsense was the outside of enough. You are one and twenty; it is high time you gave up your roistering and your ill-advised cronies. Can you imagine the furore you would have made if I had not prevented you from hammering on Mr Ashley’s door last night? What were you thinking of? You have overstepped the mark this time and I shall not allow it to continue.”
His brother scowled. “I ain’t a child, Ralph, and I won’t be dictated to by anyone. I’ve reached my majority and shall do as I please—there’s nothing you can do to prevent it.”
“You forget, brother, that I hold the purse strings. You have no choice. If you don’t live within your means then you are on your own. I shall pay no more of your debts; unless you retire to your estate in Essex and behave responsibly your bills will remain unpaid.”
Rupert surged to his feet sending his chair crashing backwards. “I’ll do as I please. I’m going back to Town tonight. There’s a cockfight in Cheapside and I’ve already wagered fifty guineas on the outcome.”
“Don’t go off in high dudgeon. I have your best interests at heart. I don’t want you to destroy your health and happiness by dissolute living.” Ralph’s fingers clenched on the arm of his chair. Using his unnatural size to intimidate his sibling was not an option. He would drive the boy away and that was the last thing he wanted.
“You’re a killjoy, Ralph. You don’t want to have any fun yourself, can’t even find yourself a bride, so have nothing better to do with your time than ruin my life.” He turned and kicked the chair aside before stomping off slamming the door loudly behind h
im.
With a sigh Ralph sank back in his seat. He had made a sad mull of things, exacerbated the situation instead of improving it. God's teeth! He'd offered to buy the boy his colours last year but this had been thrown back in his face. He should never have listened to their mother. When the boy had wanted to join the cavalry he should have allowed it. His brother was at far greater risk in England than he would be on the Continent. With Napoleon safely locked up on Elba there were no battles to be fought which was possibly why his brother no longer wished to join.
He had the unpleasant duty of informing Mama that not only had Rupert not apologised for his reprehensible behaviour, he had ignored the warnings about his allowance being cut off. Convincing her that he was being cruel to be kind was going to be difficult. Letting Rupert accumulate debts, become unpopular with his creditors, was the only way to persuade his brother to give up his reckless ways.
He munched his way through several scones and strawberry conserve and emptied the coffee jug before he felt ready to go upstairs. When his mother had taken a crashing fall the previous year and severely damaged her back, the specialist from London had been certain she would eventually regain strength in her legs and be able to walk. However this had not happened; the months passed and his beloved parent remained marooned in her apartment seemingly no nearer recovering than she had been before Christmas.
Being the bearer of such bad tidings might well set her back even further. He could delay no longer; he’d heard Ralph gallop off down the drive more than a half an hour ago. His valet, the uncomplaining Evans, would no doubt follow behind in the carriage.
His mother looked up, her face sad. “My dear, don't look so worried. I’m well aware what took place both last night and today. Nothing remains a secret for very long.” She patted the space at the end of the chaise longue. “Come and sit down, tell me what you decided.”
He bent down and kissed her still golden hair. “He stormed off, as usual, ignoring everything I said to him. I’m afraid, Mama, this time I’m determined to stick to my word. I will not be cajoled or wheedled into paying his debts or rescuing him from any scrapes.”
“And neither should you, my love. It’s high time Rupert understood his wild behaviour has consequences not only for himself, but also for those who love him. I’m quite sure a spell in a debtor’s prison would do him good.”
“Good God! I shall not let it come to that.” His mother’s gurgle of laughter broke the tension. “You are an insufferable tease, Mama, and I should not let myself be taken in.”
“I know you too well, dear boy. For all his faults, and I’m the first to admit he has many, he has no malice in him and will soon come to his senses. His fair weather friends will desert him if he has no gold in his pockets. Then he will see we were right and come home to straighten himself out.”
“In which case, Mama, we must both pray he does nothing too foolhardy before his blunt runs out.”
*
Hadley Manor
Anna waited whilst her friend removed her bonnet and gloves. “Well, Marianne, what is it that has brought you here in such a flurry?”
“I have received a letter from Lydia Banister. You remember her? She was in the year below us at the seminary? Well, her brother is a great friend of Mr Simmons and a Lord Rupert Shalford.”
Anna was becoming more puzzled by the moment. “What have these gentlemen to do with me?”
“I was coming to that, Anna. It seems Lord Shalford is in a similar position to you; he wishes to contract a marriage of convenience immediately. His brother, The Duke of Westchester, is a cruel monster and is denying him his rightful inheritance. The only way he can access his own money is by marrying. He has reached his majority and needs no permission.”
“My dear Marianne, this sounds like a tale from one of your more lurid romances.” A horrible sinking feeling developed in the pit of her stomach. “Tell me you have not spoken of my situation to complete strangers? I could not bear it if you have done so.”
Her friend blushed scarlet. “I might have mentioned it in passing; I can assure you Lydia is the soul of discretion.”
“So discreet that she discussed the fact you have a friend seeking a suitable husband with a friend of her brother?” Anna was tempted to throw a book at Marianne but sensibly refrained. “It will be all over the county by the end of the week. I shall be ruined and Sir John will be justifiably incensed.”
“Oh no, it will not come to that,” was the airy reply. “I have all the necessary information about Shalford. Dearest Lydia included the information with her letter. All you have to do is decide if he is the sort of person you could think of marrying. I’m sure in a year or two you could have the marriage dissolved or annulled or something of that sort.”
The paper was held out and reluctantly Anna took it. She quickly scanned the contents:
Shalford was the youngest son of a duke; he was one and twenty, had a large estate in Essex, several smaller ones elsewhere, and sufficient funds to keep a wife and live comfortably. Why should the son of a duke wish to marry her? He could look far higher.
“Marianne, I am not an eligible bride for someone as top-lofty as Lord Shalford. We must forget your harebrained scheme.”
“I told you, Anna, he wishes to escape from the tyranny of the duke. You are the granddaughter of an earl – that’s grand enough for a younger son.”
Her pulse quickened. Was this the miracle she’d prayed for? Lydia Banister seemed an unlikely conduit through which the Almighty might work but stranger things did happen.
“Are you sure these details are correct? That Shalford is in a similar position to me and is only contracting a marriage of convenience to remove himself from the control of his unpleasant brother?”
Marianne clapped her hands. “Everything is absolutely accurate, I have Lydia’s word. Are you going to meet Shalford?”
“If he can be at The Kings Head in St Albans the day after tomorrow then I shall meet him to discuss the matter. I’m not so desperate I will marry without first meeting my future husband. If I cannot like him, even though it will be in name only, I shall not consent but continue on my way to Isobel Cunningham’s home in Romford.”
“I cannot believe you are about to embark on such a romantic adventure, Anna. Is there anything else I can do for you before I leave? I didn’t tell Mama I was coming here and she might be anxious about my absence.”
“No, dearest friend, I shall be forever in your debt. I must write to Lord Shalford at his London address and pray he receives it in time. I must assume he will have obtained the special licence in case we decide to go ahead with this.”
“I believe one can obtain such a document in Town. I must ride through the village on my way home so I will delay for a few more minutes whilst you write your letter then I can send it for you. It must go express, you know, to ensure it arrives in good time.”
Twenty minutes later Marianne had departed with the letter and Anna explained to Molly what her new plans were. They were not received well.
“Miss Hadley, whatever were you thinking of? If you will pardon me for saying so, Miss Duncan is of a romantic nature and not the most practical young lady. How can you be sure you’re not stepping from one problem into another?”
“Enough! You forget yourself, Molly. I am not committing myself to anything before I meet Lord Shalford. If I decide not to proceed then I shall continue on my way to Romford
and things will be as before. I have nothing to lose and possibly everything to gain.”
“I beg your pardon, I’m sure.” Molly shook her head. “Then I had best complete your packing. Shall I leave out the gown I altered for you, the one with the matching spencer and bonnet?”
“No, I think it best that I travel as inconspicuously as possible. A lady alone on a stage could be the subject of unpleasant attention from male passengers. However I shall wear it if I do decide to marry.”
The very idea was quite nonsensical but for the first time
since her mother had died her spirits were high. Finally she had something to look forward to.
Chapter Three
The journey to St Albans was uneventful and Anna had no difficulty discovering the direction of The King’s Head. The inn was but a short step from the hostelry at which she had alighted. She spoke to the landlord and arranged for her trunk to be transported leaving her maid to manage the smaller bags.
“We have arrived in good time, Molly, and should have no difficulty reserving a room for tonight. I wonder if Lord Shalford has also arrived.”
Her maid shifted a carpet bag under her arm before answering. “Didn’t he say the time you were to meet, Miss Hadley?”
“Indeed he did; he was most precise with his instructions. We are to rendezvous in a private parlour at exactly four o’clock. We are to spend an hour together before deciding if we wish to proceed. You will remain with me at all times, of course, Molly.”
“Yes, miss, I’ll not let you out of my sight. If you decide to go ahead, when will the ceremony take place?”
“At six o’clock. Then we shall dine together and retire to our separate chambers. Tomorrow we shall depart for his estate in Essex where our lawyers will attend us to arrange for the release of our funds.”
Speaking the words out loud made it all seem horribly real. What was she thinking of? How could she be contemplating entering the holy state of matrimony when she had no intention of honouring, obeying, and certainly not begetting. To be about to marry a complete stranger for mercenary reasons, however pressing these were, was beginning to seem very wrong.
“Here we are, it was no distance at all. I shall go at once and speak to the landlord.” Anna walked into the dim interior of the ancient building. The beamed ceiling would be a hazard to anyone above average height. There was a stout wooden table at the far end of the spacious vestibule upon which rested a large brass bell. Molly dropped the three bags and hurried across to ring it.
A tall, spare woman of middle years emerged from the passageway and stood behind the table. She was dressed from top to toe in dark blue cotton, a spotless white apron around her middle and a remarkably pretty lace cap on her head.
Fenella J Miller - [Duke 02] Page 2