Vengeful Lord, Defiant Lady.

by Maggie Pritchard

  ‘I am sure your skill at dancing is such that I need have no fear on that score sir. I was thinking more of how your close embrace might lead those who observe us to deduct that we practice that distain for propriety you have cited as being so common in country society.’

  ‘Touché Miss Calthorpe,’ he replied with a smile.

  ‘But is this not a little late in the day for you to worry about propriety mistress? I feel sure there is little enough of it to be found in gypsy encampments and none at all in young ladies who ride astride with no care for their reputations.’

  He watched as her eyes widened in shock before pulling her into a hold so close as to be completely inappropriate in even the most liberal of gatherings and they finished the dance in silence.

  Catherine was too stunned to reply to his taunt, what, in any case, could she say? There was no denying it, he had obviously seen her and the only thought in her head now was to get this interminable dance over with. It would remain to be seen if he had told her father of her escapade. That would be worrisome. It would be much more difficult to win her father round if he thought she had been seen.

  It was noted by some at the gathering that evening that Miss Catherine Calthorpe seemed more than a little out of sorts. She had danced but one dance despite repeated requests from young men she usually favoured and even refused to stand up again with the handsome stranger in their midst with whom she had danced the first dance. Some even voiced concerns for her health as she was flushed and at times seemed agitated and finally retired early. Something she had never been known to do before. If they had been able to witness her tossing and turning all that night they would surely have sent for a physician

  Chapter 2

  Catherine watched as the next morning dawned bright and clear. Not having slept more than a few hours she felt irritable and went down to breakfast in a state of agitation. It was certain that Papa would speak to her this morning, so she needed to be at her best and most beguiling, but even her most earnest plea would fall on deaf ears if the unpleasant Lord Alex had added his voice to that of Mama’s. She was joined at breakfast by Dorothea though she found herself unable to eat even a morsel.

  ‘Are you sickening for something Kate? It is not like you to breakfast on tea alone. Or is it the promise of Papa’s censure that robs you of your appetite?’

  ‘Oh Dorothea you know Papa will not be angry with me for long, but I will not wait to be summoned, it will surely be better if I will go to him now.’

  Catherine rose to do just that but sat down heavily at her sister’s next utterance.

  ‘You may find it more propitious to wait a little as Papa has been closeted with Mama and Lord Tremayne this last hour. I think your pleas will fare better without our mother in attendance. However I must admit that, though I was prepared for her to be still in high dudgeon about your escapade, she said nothing when I passed her on the stair earlier. In fact she seemed in high spirits.’

  ‘Lord Alex closeted with Mama and Papa, what possible business can the man want with both?’

  ‘Well I cannot begin to speculate. Though there is one matter that comes to mind!’

  Catherine was beside herself. Rising from her seat she paced the floor.

  ‘You cannot think for one minute that he would offer for me Dorothea. He has not given me any sign and I have certainly not given him any encouragement. Why we were only acquainted for the first time last evening’

  ‘Well men of that ilk are not used to putting the sensibilities of others first. To him marriage is a business matter, best dealt with by gentlemen behind closed doors. I am sure you will be informed once negotiations are concluded, if indeed there are negotiations afoot.’

  ‘Oh it is too much to bear. I will not wait here to be summoned like some chattel to be disposed of as they see fit. I will go in there now and disabuse them of any such idea!’

  Leaping up from her seat Catherine crossed the room, only to be met at the door by her smiling mother.

  ‘Ah Catherine, your Papa awaits you in his study, make haste now, do not keep him waiting. Oh come child there is nothing to fear. All is forgotten now about yesterday’s adventures, it is all come good. But I prattle on while your father waits, go now and he will tell you such news as will make your head spin.’

  With that, her mother fairly pushed her across the hallway and into her fathers study.

  Less than five minutes later Dorothea, who was still seated at breakfast with her Mama, heard her sister’s shrill cry and saw her through the breakfast room window as she rushed around the side of the house towards the walled garden and obviously in a very distressed state. She immediately rose from her seat intending to follow but was stayed by her Mama when the tall figure of Lord Alex strode after her.

  ‘No Dorothea, let his lordship say his piece and I am sure Catherine will soon see the sense in this match.’

  ‘I am not convinced that Catherine can be prevailed upon to see any match in a good light Mama, let alone a marriage so suddenly decided upon and to a man she has hardly know more than a few hours. I am sure even I would not be happy at such an arrangement’

  ‘You would never have put yourself in such a position as this, where your parents despair of your behaviour and can think of no other solution but to marry you to a husband well suited to curbing such impropriety. No Catherine will soon see that she has brought this situation upon herself. Just as she will soon learn that her husband is well appraised of her tendencies and fully intends to teach her how to be a dutiful wife.’

  ‘You are too harsh Mama, Catherine has always been spoilt, it is no fault of hers. It is something Papa must admit to. I fear she will never submit to this marriage and then what will become of her reputation? Now I must go to her, Lord Tremayne or not, I will not see her uncomforted in her distress.’

  Whereupon Dorothea rose to go to upstairs to fetch her bonnet and also one for Catherine, before making her way into the garden in search of her sister.

  Catherine ran sobbing through the walled garden to the summerhouse, which was always her refuge in times of trouble. Fashioned of thick seasoned wood and covered in trailing roses just coming into bud it had provided her with a safe haven many times, but not today, for close on her heels with his long stride followed her nemesis. It was too much, and so when he invaded her refuge she snapped, in a fog of grief and rage she stepped quickly towards him and dealt him a resounding slap to his arrogant face. Only to quickly regret the action, not because it was completely improper, but because he seemed not to have even registered the blow and before she could move away, was well able to grasp her wrist, twist it cruelly behind her back in the act of pulling her hard up against the wall of his chest. The kiss that followed was no gentle salutation, but rather a hard, demanding assault, designed to subdue. She struggled and fought, doing her best to bite him but it was impossible, his strength was overwhelming. It was not until she ceased to fight for lack of breath, that he released her and she was able to move away, backing herself into the corner furthest from him.

  ‘How dare you...’ she was unable to finish, unable to think, and completely unable to grasp her situation.

  He stood, in a relaxed almost nonchalant stance and his voice held the authority of a man fully appraised of his position of power.

  ‘When you have quite finished miss, you will come to realize that this behaviour will not be tolerated any longer. You may have been able to twist your father around your little finger but even he is done with you now. From here on in you will learn very quickly who is in charge, who is your lord and master, and you will begin by answering my questions before accompanying me back into the house where you will apologize to your father for your appalling outburst.’

  ‘I will not answer and I will not be sold, to you or anyone else. So you may as well leave this house sir for I will not yield to you or any other man.’

  ‘No? I think you may review that stance when you realize that I will stop at nothing to have my way. W
hat if your little escapade of yesterday were common knowledge? What if society knew that Miss Catherine Calthorpe was in the habit of cavorting with gypsies and vagabonds? You and your family would be ostracized, shunned by society. Do you doubt that they would share in your shame? What would your sisters newly acquired family say to that?’

  ‘You have no shame sir, none at all. You would force me into this marriage...’

  Catherine was unable to finish, realization of his ruthlessness beginning to dawn, even as her mind searched for a reason for his insistence.

  ‘You begin to understand your position, which is good. Now look at me and weigh your answer carefully. It will do you no good to lie to me, I assure you. Is the gypsy your lover?’

  Catherine held her breath, he thought she had been visiting the gypsy camp to meet a lover! This might be her salvation, if he believed she was impure he would reject her, she was sure of that. Hadn’t Mama made an almighty fuss about just this issue? So she looked him straight in the eye and told a partial lie.

  ‘If you are asking if Romany is my love, then the answer must be yes. For I have never loved any as I love him.’

  There, it was said, she thought, not a full lie, but it might just do its work.

  His features darkened, the look in his eyes made even her quake. Then he took a step forward and gripped her shoulders before she could move away. Giving her a hard shake, he ground out.

  ‘Well well, quite the little wanton aren’t we? But hear me now mistress, this affair has ended, for within the week we will be wed, and if you have any regard for your lover you will keep yourself for me. I will not hesitate to destroy any man that dares to touch what is mine, is that clear?’

  When she didn’t answer he shook her again, and Catherine, filled with misery that her ploy had not worked, that he still intended to have her, could do no more than nod in dumb misery.

  He sealed his victory with another kiss, and this time she did not fight him.

  Dorothea sat on Catherine’s narrow bed holding her trembling sister, slowly stroking her hair and soothing with her voice.

  ‘Shush now Kate dearest, you will spoil your face and inflame your eyes with all this weeping.’

  ‘Oh what does that matter when all is lost? I am lost, Papa was... I’ve never seen him so cold, so unfeeling. I pleaded, I begged, I promised to be good, but all to no avail. Then when I would have run to hide, he came after me. He insists we will be married within the week. A week! How can that be? It cannot be done in a week, can it?’

  ‘Kate you know he has a special license, there will be no reading of banns, and you will be wed by the Bishop no less. Mama has preparations for your wedding clothes in hand, all will be in readiness, and so you must prepare yourself Kate. You really must.’

  Catherine sat up at that, all the blood drained from her face, leaving it to the domination of her eyes. Dorothea worried that she would make herself ill with worry.

  ‘There is no hope is there Dorothea? No hope, I have been given to him, and soon I will be torn from all I know and all who love me. Wales, I don’t even know where that is. I am so afraid...’ and she dissolved once more into tears.

  The morning of the wedding dawned and Catherine filled with resentment, waited in her chamber for Mama and Dorothea to arrive with the yards of lace that constituted her wedding finery.

  “I’ll run away, yes that’s it, if I can get to the stable and saddle Dolly I can be away from here and him. By the time they come to dress me I will be miles away.”

  Even as she the thought skittered for the hundredth time through her brain, she knew that the plan would achieve little more than a temporary reprieve. Where would she go? There was nowhere she could run to, and even if there was he would come after her and bring her back and there would be hell to pay. So she stood, waiting for Mama and Dorothea to come to dress her in her wedding finery, the view from her window blurred by her tears.

  ‘Oh come Catherine, will you let the world know what a ninny you are? How many girls make such a match, not only a rich husband but so handsome and charming too.’

  Catherine did not answer, there was no point, Mama was enthralled by him, and no wonder, for where he’d been arrogant and overbearing with his future wife, with his mother in-law, he’d been the perfect gentleman. Kind, attentive and charming, it was sickening. The week had flown, a blur of fittings, shopping and all the other activities necessitated by a wedding and all squeezed into a week. Mama had been in her element. Far from being thrown into a fit by the short notice as one would expect, she had risen to the challenge and galvanized everyone to help. So romantic, she told them all, such a good match for Catherine, and her groom so smitten by her that he could not wait, but insisted they wed within a week. A special license and the Bishop himself, he’d arranged. As a result it had been all hands to the pumps, with countless hands stitching through the nights to fashion every scrap of silk and lace that could be found in the locality into a trousseau fit for any bride.

  So here she stood, decked out in a dress she’d sworn never to wear, with Mama and Dorothea fussing, pinning pearls into her hair before pulling her veil down to cover her face. It was a relief to be so cocooned from the world. For a short time she would be apart from it, neither Catherine Calthorpe nor Lady Tremayne. She knew that when he lifted the veil it would be done, she would belong to him, but for now she would take refuge in this gauze-softened haven. The time would come soon enough to face reality.

  Mama was relieved to find Catherine had stopped weeping, and was calm and biddable. It was more than she could have hoped for from her wayward daughter. Dorothea, though sharing Mama’s relief a little, was worried for her sister. This was so unlike Kate, to be so lacking in spirit, so broken, resigned to her fate with such misery. The congregation, unaware of any of this looked on with a smile. The bride, fittingly demure, the groom handsome, the whole thing so romantic, it was going to be a lovely wedding. No one paid much attention to the bride’s father, missing the grey pallor, the blank, troubled eyes and the tremor of his hand as he gave away his most precious girl.

  The groom repeated his vows with a clear voice, the bride, when she responded to the Bishop was quiet of voice, as one would expect. When her husband lifted the veil and lowered his head, she accepted his kiss and the ladies in the congregation sighed.

  Lord Alexander Tremayne had taken Miss Catherine Calthorpe to wife, and immediately following the ceremony, forgoing the wedding breakfast, they set off for Llangorfan Castle in Wales.

  Chapter 3

  Catherine woke with a start as the carriage jolted to a halt. Disorientated for a moment she could only stare in fearful incomprehension at the dark man seated opposite. Then slowly it all came back, he was her husband and he was taking her to her new home, their home. A castle, somewhere in Wales. She didn’t even know where that was, all she knew was that they had been traveling all day and into the evening. She had spent most of the journey alone in the carriage, while her new husband rode alongside on his Arab stallion, only spending an hour in his company as they stopped at a comfortable hostelry to feed and rest the horses and partake of a meal.

  As they had traveled on the landscape had changed progressively, from the soft green rolling hills and meadows she was used to, to an altogether wilder terrain. No more hills but rather dark mountains rose each side of their road. Blocking out the sun and casting a gloom deep into Catherine’s already leaden heart. Every now and then the landscape would open up and soften a little and she glimpsed green meadows, and little hamlets. Often they crossed fast flowing streams or rivers. But by the time dusk began to gather they were driving into heavy rainfall. It blotted out the view from the carriage window, and settled a blanket of gloom over Catherine.

  Now with the end of the journey came wakefulness and the realization that he was sitting opposite her watching with shrewd eyes. She felt uncomfortable at the thought of him sitting there watching, thinking. Of the wedding night to come in all probability. He would
expect his wife in his bed this night, and she had no idea what to expect from him. Oh of course she had a rudimentary idea of what it might entail, at least she had gleaned a little insight from the animals around the estate. But quite how to translate that into the detail of what was expected of her, she had no idea. Mama, when pressed, had been of no help whatsoever. There was an expectation of something that she would have to ‘endure’ that much was frighteningly clear. It was also clear that a man expected purity in his bride and that Mama feared that Catherine had somehow compromise this by her adventures and by ‘riding astride’. This made no sense to Catherine at all. It was all very confusing. Dorothea had been of less help, assuring Catherine that she had nothing to fear if she did her best to be a ‘dutiful wife’.

  And all the time, those grey eyes watched. Making Catherine regret her impulse to lie to him, for now he would assume she knew what was to come, and surely it was too late now to retract the lie. Too late to make him see that she was not the wanton he believed her to be, and much too late surely, to let him know she was frightened.

  The carriage was stopped now and Catherine sat in silence not moving, not wanting to see what awaited her. Her husband rose in response to the opening of the carriage door, making his way outside into the gloom. Then turning he extended a hand to her, and she followed him.

  At first Catherine could see very little, the fading light of evening was prematurely darkening with help from the wind and rain and she hesitated, unsure of which direction she should move. She took a few tentative steps forward, hugging her cape closer around herself protectively, just as a flash of lightening cut through the darkness and illuminated the castle in front of her. In that same split second her hood was ripped from her head and through her flying hair she glimpsed the lines of the gothic mansion.