by M C Beaton
“But you have not met Mama yet, you see,” said Belinda, and the duke looked at her in surprise. It was as if Belinda had been replying to some question put to her by the vicar, and yet he had said nothing.
“Ah,” said the vicar. “With such beauty, she must have very high hopes for you, Miss Belinda.”
“She had,” said Belinda, “but now that Lucy is to marry a duke, I do not think she will be ambitious about me anymore. That is, so long as His Grace and Lucy do get married.” She patted the puppy and said half to herself, “If Lucy were not to marry the duke, then Mama would become ambitious again, and what is more, she would make me get rid of this darling puppy. Yes, I see it all now. I am afraid, Your Grace, that you will have to marry Lucy after all.”
“But is there some… doubt?” The vicar looked in a bewildered way from Belinda to the duke.
“Miss Belinda,” said the duke severely, “do not addle my poor vicar’s wits any more than you have already addled them. Marsham, we must take our leave. I called to invite you to dinner tonight. When do we dine, Miss Belinda?”
“I think Lucy said something about seven o’clock,” said Belinda. She stood up, holding the puppy with one hand to her breast and holding out the other to the vicar. “Good-bye, Mr. Marsham. I am glad you are coming to dinner, for we are very much alike, and therefore I shall have someone to talk to. Not that it is very easy to talk when Mama is present, and goodness knows what sort of people Lucy is going to inflict on us.”
“What sort of people?” asked the duke sharply.
Belinda smiled vaguely. “Come, Barney, and I will take you with me and find a basket for you. Will you miss your mother, I wonder? Not being married is so frustrating when it comes to keeping dogs, Mr. Marsham. Had I a complacent husband, then I could relieve you of the whole litter.” She gave him a dazzling smile and he reddened and blinked as though in strong sunlight.
“Was I mistaken or did you just propose marriage to my poor impressionable vicar?” asked the duke as they drove away from the vicarage.
“I do not remember saying any such thing,” said Belinda placidly. “What a dear doggie.”
Mrs. Bliss could not object to Barney, for the duke declared it was his present to Belinda to celebrate his forthcoming marriage. She privately decided to get rid of the dog as soon as the wedding ceremony was safely over.
Lucy was amused and looked forward to meeting this vicar, particularly after Belinda whispered to her that she wished to be placed next to Mr. Marsham at dinner.
Usually Belinda waited for Feathers to choose a gown for her, but Lucy found her going through every dress in her wardrobe during the dressing hour and holding one gown after the other up against her and studying the effect in the glass.
“You are trying to impress him,” accused Lucy. “What will Mama say? A mere vicar.”
“I think the blue gauze,” said Belinda, studying her reflection critically. “And Mama is so in alt over your success, Lucy, that she will not trouble about me.”
“But what will happen when the engagement is off?”
“I will cross the bridge when I come to it,” said Belinda placidly. “Oh, do look at Barney. Such intelligent eyes.”
“And such an interesting way of chewing up the coverlet,” Lucy observed. “As temporary chatelaine, I should inform you that you are about to let that dog ruin anything it wants. It should be in the stables.”
“Barney can’t go to the stables. He will soon miss his mother. He had better stay close to me. You must not wear that gown, Lucy. It is gray and makes you look like a wraith. Here is that sage green silk which I never liked. Get Feathers to put a few tucks in it and wear it with your coral beads. Most fetching.”
Lucy, who trusted her sister’s dress sense more than her own, took the gown and summoned Feathers to make a few quick alterations.
When they were all at last gathered in the drawing room, Belinda with Barney on a silk ribbon leash, the butler entered and said to the duke, “Two persons have arrived, Your Grace. They say they have been invited for dinner.”
“A Mr. and Mrs. Hardacre?” asked Lucy quickly.
“The same.”
“Do show them up. I invited them.”
Mr. and Mrs. Hardacre were ushered in. Lucy half closed her eyes. Mrs. Hardacre had exceeded her wildest hopes. She was wearing a purple gown embellished with emerald green bows. On her head was perched an enormous muslin cap decorated with bows of the same color as if she had been just attacked by some monstrous species of green fly. Mr. Hardacre was wearing black evening dress. The coat looked as if it had been tailored for a much larger man. He was rouged and painted, and his hair had been powered inexpertly so that his own red color shone through the flour. He had a large paste diamond in his cravat and large paste diamond rings on his fingers. He obviously thought he looked very fine.
“Lucy,” moaned Mrs. Bliss faintly. “How could you!”
The vicar was ushered in behind them and was promptly approached by Belinda.
“How very kind of you to come, Mr. Hardacre,” said Lucy. “May I present His Grace, the Duke of Wardshire. My mother and father, Mr. and Mrs. Bliss, and yonder is my sister, Belinda, and Mr. Marsham.”
“You must find it ever so odd of us to pop in like this, Your Grace,” said Mrs. Hardacre, “but when Miss Bliss told us how frit she was of this gurt mansion, we felt we just had to come along to support her.”
“I gather your acquaintance with Miss Bliss is of short duration?”
Mrs. Hardacre said something like “Hunh?”
“Have you known Miss Bliss long?”
“Naw, the dear cheild approached me and Jimmy last night and said she was that took with us, she wanted to invite us. So here we are!”
“Yes, here you are,” echoed the duke bleakly.
The butler announced dinner was served and they all filed in, the duke leading the way with Mrs. Bliss on his arm, Mr. Bliss escorting Lucy, Belinda with the vicar, and the Hardacres following up at the rear.
That the Hardacres were sorely disappointed with the fare served to them in a ducal mansion became evident from their remarks as modest course followed course. Mrs. Hardacre said sotto voce to Mr. Hardacre that it was obvious that even dukes fell on hard times, and Mr. Hardacre remarked he would have been better off selling some of his plate and putting a decent meal on the table.
For once Mrs. Bliss, that great vulgar embarrasser of society, were herself driven into silence by the conversation and behavior of Mrs. Hardacre. Each had a napkin, but the Hardacres spurned theirs and wiped their mouths on the tablecloth. Mrs. Hardacre drank a great deal and began to flirt with Mr. Bliss, who, to Lucy’s surprise, parried her sallies expertly and even looked mildly amused.
The duke treated them courteously and suggested that instead of lingering over the port, the gentlemen should join the ladies in the drawing room after dinner.
Elated with wine and high society, Mrs. Hardacre offered to entertain them. She sang several ballads which were very naughty indeed, finishing one by putting a foot up on the chair next to Mr. Bliss, raising her skirts, and snapping her garter. The duke thought that Mrs. Hardacre—if Mrs. she was—was probably a professional performer. He envied his vicar, who sat beside Belinda and seemed enclosed in shining walls of happiness.
Lucy sat elegantly at her ease, applauding even the worst of Mrs. Hardacre’s offerings. The duke thought she looked strangely pretty in the simple green gown and with her wide eyes shining with mischief. He decided to punish her for inviting the Hardacres.
At last he said to the Hardacres that he must retire and they reluctantly took their leave, obviously hoping for another invitation. But Lucy, under her calm exterior, had become horrified at what she had done and merely curtsied to both.
“I will escort you to your carriage myself,” said the duke, and Mrs. Hardacre preened.
Their carriage turned out to be a very broken down rented affair. “Before you leave,” said the duke to Mr. Hardacr
e, “I am afraid I must ask you to turn out your pockets.”
“Your Grace!” exclaimed Mr. Hardacre. “What can you mean?”
“You know. Items as follows—two silver snuffboxes, one Dresden figurine, and some of the silverware from the dinner table.”
Mr. Hardacre opened his mouth to protest. “Come, my good fellow,” urged the duke, “you would not want me to summon my servants to turn you upside down and shake you.”
“Oh, go on, Jimmy,” said Mrs. Hardacre. “The gig’s up. Hand ’em over.”
Mr. Hardacre emptied out his pockets and passed the items over. “You’re a downy one,” he said to the duke in reluctant admiration.
“Now you may go on your way,” said the duke. “I need not tell you that if you show your face near my home again, I shall set the constable on you.”
“Oh, we’re off!” Mrs. Hardacre tossed her head and set her ridiculous bows bobbing wildly. “But I’m right sorry for that little lady who’s marrying you.”
The duke waited until their carriage had driven away and then went thoughtfully indoors. He had missed a scene. Mrs. Bliss was red-eyed and weeping, Lucy defiant, Mr. Bliss subdued, and Belinda and the vicar were talking away as if nothing else mattered but what each other said.
“I crave a word in private with my fiancée,” said the duke.
“Oh, Your Grace,” waited Mrs. Bliss, “she is such a green girl. Forgive her!”
The duke pointedly held open the door, and Lucy walked past him with her head high. He led the way into a vast, empty saloon. Now he will tell me to break the engagement, thought Lucy. It will be painful, like a visit to the dentist, but so wonderful when it is all over.
He shut the door and approached her. He swept her into his arms and, despite her stifled mumbles of protest, kissed her soundly. “My little darling,” he said huskily when he raised his head at last. “You enchant me. Such concern for my welfare, ordering all those cheap dishes! And such democracy. The Hardacres were a splendid idea. I can never remember when I was last so amused.”
Lucy struggled away from him. “What are you doing? What are you saying?”
He smiled down at her. “I have the happiness to tell you that I am in love with you and cannot wait to be married. I will obtain a special license from the bishop tomorrow. Oh, my heart. I know this news will make you as happy as it does me.” He gathered her in his arms again.
“But…” squeaked Lucy.
He crushed her head against his chest, ignoring her struggles. “You will soon be mine. Soon you will lie naked in my arms. You will like that, will you not, my darling? Oh, Lucinda.” And he jerked up her chin and smothered her alarmed protests with a deep and lingering kiss which left her so shaken that when he released her, she could only stare at him dumbly.
“Come,” he said, urging her tottering steps forward. “We must tell your parents the news!”
Chapter Seven
The announcement of a wedding to be held in a bare three weeks time threw Mrs. Bliss into an ecstatic flurry of planning. As Lucy stood beside the duke, occasionally giving fierce little tugs at her hand to try to release it from his, Mrs. Bliss’s happy voice beat upon her ears.
“Of course, I was took aback, Your Grace, for first of all, I had St. George’s, Hanover Square, in mind. I know that no one who is anyone gets married in church these days, but there is something grand about a church, you know, bells and incense and stained glass.” She went on as if churches had been built only to please the fastidious eye of society. “But as you say your family chapel will be perfect. Perhaps a rustic theme? With garlands of wildflowers held by village maidens? Perhaps even a cow or two in the churchyard and bridesmaids à la bergère.”
“I do not really think I would like to dress up as a shepherdess for Lucy’s wedding,” said Belinda consideringly. “And think of the feelings of the people of Mr. Marsham’s parish. They will think you are making a game of them.”
“Pooh!” Mrs. Bliss waved one plump hand in dismissal. “Who cares what a lot of peasants think? They will do as they’re told. But the dress! Monsieur Farré must post down from London with his seamstresses. I shall send him an express. Satin and Brussels lace, but no veil. Veils are out of fashion. All the great will travel down for it. Oh, my dear Lucy. All will think it most romantic.”
“Mama, all will think I need to get married quickly,” said Lucy desperately.
Her eyes slid away from Lucy’s. “Tch! You should not even consider such an idea. A band to play during the wedding breakfast. Neil Gow from Almack’s, I think. I suppose we must ask some of our old friends, although people like Mrs. Belize must be content to stand outside the church and watch.”
Mr. Bliss interrupted. “A word in private with you, Your Grace,” he said firmly. Lucy watched them leave. Surely her father would stop this monstrous charade.
“Now, what is Mr. Bliss up to?” complained Mrs. Bliss. “It is most unlike him.”
She then continued to rattle on about the wedding preparations.
“Come to my room as soon as we are free,” said Lucy in a whisper to Belinda, and Belinda nodded. The duke and Mr. Bliss were absent a long time. When they eventually returned, Mr. Bliss quietly resumed his seat while Mrs. Bliss, after looking quickly from the duke to her husband, continued to plan the wedding arrangements. Any hope Lucy had of her father’s stopping this hasty marriage were dashed.
She pleaded a headache and went up to her room, followed by Belinda.
“So what are you going to do?” asked Belinda.
“I do not know,” said Lucy. “But I’ll think of something.”
“Are you determined not to marry the duke?” asked Belinda.
“More than ever.”
“Has it crossed your mind that if you refuse to marry him, then perhaps he might be expected to marry me?” asked Belinda.
“Oh, what are we to do?” Lucy began to pace up and down the room.
“I think, Lucy, that it is time I took care of my own future,” said Belinda quietly. She picked up Barney and stroked his fur. But Lucy was not listening.
The next morning the vicar, Mr. Marsham, was working in his garden, weeding a flower bed. Behind him on the lawn rolled the collie and her pups. He was wearing an old wide-awake hat to protect his head from the sun, and his oldest clothes. And then he heard the wheels of a carriage coming along the road. He prayed the carriage would go past, but it stopped at the garden gate.
He straightened up and looked over the hedge. Miss Belinda Bliss was descending from a light gig driven by one of Sarsey’s grooms.
He wished he were a magician and could wave a wand over himself and transform his old clothes into his best. He snatched off his old hat and stood bowing and blushing as Belinda, with Barney at her heels, tripped into the garden. She was wearing a lacy confection of a morning gown, and her hat was a whole garden of flowers.
“Miss Belinda,” he said. “I did not expect any callers so early and… and… as you can see, I am in my old gardening clothes.”
Belinda sat down on a stone bench in the garden and smiled indulgently as an ecstatic Barney tumbled forward to join his family.
“I had to see you about something,” said Belinda.
“My time is yours,” he said, sitting down beside her.
“I am very worried.” Belinda stabbed the point of her parasol into the grass at her feet. “Yes, very worried. Wardshire has precipitated things. He is to get a special license and is to marry Lucy in three weeks time.”
“He must be very much in love.”
“No, I do not think so,” said Belinda. “I think he is being contrary. I think he knows Lucy doesn’t want him. The trouble is, if Lucy doesn’t want him, Mama will make me marry him, for he more or less said that either one of us would do.”
“Are you sure?”
“Oh, yes. But you do not know the whole story.” Belinda told the vicar of how it was that Lucy had reported the duke to the authorities and that Lucy alone had been res
ponsible for their arrival at that morning service, of how the duke had ruined them socially and then offered to reinstate them in the eyes of society by marriage.
“I can hardly believe it of him,” said the vicar. “I know him as a very kind man, very considerate.”
“I think he might be a little in love with Lucy,” said Belinda, “but Lucy is such a clever and determined girl. She is determined he shall dislike her, and then I will not be able to marry the man of my choice.”
Mr. Marsham looked bleakly about him. Only a moment ago the sunny garden had seemed like heaven, and now it looked dark even though the sun still shone and the lilac tree above their heads sent blossoms tumbling down about them.
Barney lollopped up to them, and the vicar bent and stroked the dog’s ears. “And who is the lucky gentleman of your choice?” he asked.
“You,” said Belinda in a small voice.
Barney let out a yelp as the startled vicar pulled one of the dog’s ears in his shock and agitation.
“I beg your pardon, Miss Belinda!”
She blushed and looked down, her long eyelashes fanned out over her cheeks.
He gingerly took one of her hands in his own.
“Did you say… me?” he asked timidly.
Belinda nodded.
“But Miss Belinda, I have very little money and… and… you are used to better things.”
“Don’t you want to marry me?” Belinda’s soft mouth trembled.
“Oh, my heart, more than anything in the world.”
“Then… then… would you be so good as to ask Papa for my hand in marriage?”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes,” said Belinda demurely. She raised her eyes to his. “You may kiss me if you like.”
If he liked!
It was a first kiss for both of them, clumsy, inexpert, but making the pair feel like Tristan and Isolde and Romeo and Juliet rolled into one. They kissed for a long time until Barney tugged at Belinda’s gown. “I think we shall be very happy,” said Belinda. “You had better get changed and come back with me.”