At the same time, Beatrix could not help feeling a little wary. Was this all too good? Would he truly be this way once they were married? She had seen friends marry men who seemed the most devoted of suitors turn into monsters once the marriage ceremony had taken place. How could she be certain that would not happen with Rothwood? Even the best of husbands had their faults. Look at Papa. Mama swore no man could please her more, but his gambling kept them at the brink of disaster. As dearly as she wished to believe in the Lord Rothwood she saw before her right now, fear still kept her wary.
* * *
Rothwood turned to Miss Trowley, satisfied the situation was well in hand. She was regarding him with a quizzical expression. Instinctively he glanced down to see if he had gotten mud on his clothes. There was, but nothing too significant. “Is something wrong, Miss Trowley?” he asked.
She shook her head, as though to shake off wayward thoughts, or perhaps that was only his own odd fancy. Certainly her voice was briskly sensible as she said, “No. I was just thinking what a complete hand you are, managing all of us so neatly.”
He quirked an eyebrow upward, not certain if she was making game of him.
As if she guessed his thoughts, she smiled. “I have been thinking you seem too good to be true,” she said. “And I have been remembering all the times we came here to talk, when you visited nine years ago.”
Edmund frowned. “It was most improper of us,” he said. “I would hope we have both grown wiser in the years since.”
“Yes, but confess, there are moments you miss those days or you would not be here, would you?” she teased.
For the briefest of moments, Edmund allowed himself to remember how it felt to be that boy, here with that girl. The ache of longing for that time almost undid him and so he did what he must, he ruthlessly suppressed those feelings. He did, however, allow himself a small smile. “You are quite right,” he said. “Those memories are a big part of why I am here.” He paused, then added, “I do not regret who we were, but we have both grown up, have we not? We both have grown wiser and learned our places in the world?”
There was the oddest look on her face as she now hesitated before answering. “Yes, I suppose we have,” she said slowly, “but I confess I hope we shall never forget who we were or the bond we felt back then, for it is that bond that inclines me so strongly toward you now.”
He lifted her hand then and kissed it. His own voice was husky as he replied, “I can promise you that I shall never forget it and I shall always do my best to make certain you remember it as well.”
Edmund might have said more, but then he heard her brothers shouting. He let it go and straightened. He was Rothwood again and perhaps that was just as well. His father always said that women wished for a strong man, one not swayed by emotions. His were once again under control as he said, “It would seem, Miss Trowley, that your brothers have found their toad. Shall we go and see?”
She grinned and said, “I’ll race you!”
Before he could object, she put action to the words and he ran after her, taking her hand in his so that they raced through the field together. Her brothers had indeed found a toad and once it was roundly approved of, he had them set it free and suggested they go back to fishing. “For I want a chance to catch something,” he said. “If, that is, there really are fish to be caught.”
The Trowley boys indignantly assured him there were, and he found himself, somewhat to his surprise, spending the next few hours happily fishing and even shouting with glee when he pulled one in himself.
* * *
The next morning, Edmund went to the village to see whether his carriage had yet been repaired, and was met with most disturbing news.
“This is William, wot fixed our carriage,” his coachman Daniel said.
“Is it ready?”
“Aye, my lord, but there’s something you be needing to know. Someone cut partway through the wood on your carriage wheel. That’s why it broke and landed you in the ditch. ’Tweren’t no accident.”
Stunned, Edmund looked to his coachman for confirmation. He nodded. “It’s true. We’d best be watching our backs,” the coachman said. “It’s as nasty a piece of work as I’ve ever seen. I’m thinking it’s just as well you had me stay here, in the village, alongside of the carriage. I’ll not want to be leaving it unguarded without we learn who did it.”
Startled, Edmund asked, “But the damage must have happened in London, surely?”
The villager shook his head. “No, my lord. Your carriage wouldn’t have gone near the distance twixt Lunnon and here afore breaking. Not with the damage I found.”
Edmund regarded the two grim faces before him and this time he was the one who nodded. “Very well. Guard my carriage well and let me know if anyone comes sniffing about trying to look at it.”
“Oh, there’s many here that have done that,” the villager replied, “but I know them all and it’s just curiosity. It’s strangers we’ll be watching for and we won’t let anything happen.”
“Thank you. And here, for your kindness and your trouble.” Edmund gave both men a generous handful of coins.
On his way back to the Trowley household, he tried to figure out who might have arranged to have this done to his carriage. Not one of his friends, for it was far too serious to be a mere prank and none of them would truly wish him ill. Someone else, then. Someone, perhaps, who thought to gain from his death. Well, there was no shortage to choose from, thanks to the provisions of his father’s will. Unfortunately, he could not begin to guess which of them might have had the wherewithal and determination to act. For the moment, he would have to count on the vigilance of his coachman and the villager as well as his own wits to prevent further danger.
And he needed to persuade Miss Trowley to marry him as soon as possible.
* * *
Edmund managed to make himself wait until he had been there a full, and fortunately uneventful, week before putting his luck to the touch with Miss Trowley.
He again took her into the garden, to the same bench they had sat on that first awkward afternoon. Nothing he had seen had changed his mind about wishing to marry her. Now he must put his luck to the touch to see if she would agree to marry him. How difficult could it be? He had, after all, spoken in the House of Lords more than once and been told he was most persuasive. What was one mere marriage proposal compared to that?
If he didn’t quite manage to persuade himself, nonetheless it helped to remember that there was all the reason in the world for Miss Trowley to accept and very little for her to refuse. All the logic in the world, however, did not change the fact that he felt like the veriest schoolboy.
“Miss Trowley, this past week has assured me that my memories of you were not mistaken. You are still the generous, kindhearted person I knew then and you have grown into a beautiful woman, one whom I would very much like to make my wife. I know I have only given us one week to become reacquainted but time is short for me to fulfill the terms of my father’s will. That is not,” he said with a wry smile, “the most romantic of things to say to you, but I will never lie to you. My affections are attached and now I ask if yours are or if you believe they could, in time, be. Miss Trowley, will you marry me?”
That was, he thought, well said. And yet she hesitated!
“Miss Trowley?” he said, hating the quaver in his own voice.
Now she met his eyes. “You will think me a mooncalf,” she said. “I know that you told me you would ask. But I find my thoughts all a whirl.”
He took her hand in his and was pleased to see she did not try to pull it away. “What is causing you to hesitate?” he asked with a gentleness that surprised even himself.
She looked at him, her distress evident in her expression and in her voice. “It is all nonsense. Emotions I cannot even name.” She paused and took a deep breath, “I am worried about my family. How are they to manage without me?”
Surely it was a measure of her trust in him that she could speak
so frankly? “You may be at ease, Miss Trowley,” he said gently. “I shall be generous with your family.”
He smiled, waiting for her cry of gratitude and some gesture, perhaps even a kiss, to thank him. His smile vanished when she replied, “Yes, but you don’t understand. My father is likely to gamble it all away.”
“Do you think I did not think of that?” he answered, with the same gentleness as before. “You are his child as well as a woman. You ought not to have to think of these things at all. But you may be sure I made provision that your father could not do as you fear.”
Now, surely, she would look at him adoringly. Now, surely she would smile at him the way she had before. But she didn’t. All she did was to nod and say, with evident relief, “Thank you. I ought to have guessed you would be sensible about this.”
Sensible? She was judging his behavior?
No, he must be mistaken. It was surely the emotion of the situation that was oversetting her. She did not fully grasp the magnanimity of his gesture in providing for her family as he was. Women did not understand matters of the world as men did. Mind you, in her own sphere, Beatrix was most capable, he would grant her that. But it was natural she did not realize just how unusually generous his behavior was. After all, what father discusses potential marriage settlements and what to expect or not expect with his daughter? It must be so for the alternative was unthinkable.
Having soothed his own feelings, Rothwood bent himself to pleasing her. “I am, will always be, happy to be of service to you and to your family,” he said.
She looked at him with frank eyes. “Why?”
Again he was taken aback. “B-because I hope you are going to be my wife. Because I wish to cherish you and make you happy.”
She nodded, then paused and smiled wryly. “I am sorry,” she said. “I am surely giving you a very bad impression of myself. You don’t deserve that. You have been all kindness to me and my family and I am grateful, truly I am. I have just been so worried, you see.”
He pressed a kiss into the palm of her hand. “You don’t need to worry anymore. I am here. Indeed, you needn’t worry about anything, ever again, for I shall do so for you.”
She blinked. She narrowed her eyes. For a moment he thought she was going to take offense, though he could not imagine why. Perhaps he was mistaken. Perhaps she was just seeking the words to thank him properly. When she spoke he knew he was right even if nervousness caused her voice to take on the oddest tone.
“You are very kind. Very generous as well. Indeed, I don’t know what to say to that.”
“Say that you will marry me. Or, if you have doubts, tell me what they are. Give me a chance to answer them.”
She opened her mouth to answer and closed it again. She looked all at sea. He tried to help. He gentled his voice even more. He smiled the smile he had been told no woman could resist. “I know that my visit came as a surprise,” he said. “I hope it has been a happy one for you. I know this visit has been delightful for me. But now you must choose. If you will not marry me, I have very little time to find another bride and to be honest, I do not wish to do so. I felt a bond with you all those years ago and I feel it even stronger today. I had hoped you might feel the same.”
He paused and enlightenment struck. “You are feeling maidenly reserve. I quite understand. Marriage can seem daunting. It can do so even when two people rub along as well as you and I have this past week. But I assure you that I shall not press you unreasonably in, er, physical ways and I shall do my best to make it pleasurable for you. Let me show you just a taste of what lies ahead.”
Gently he stood and drew her to her feet. He put his arm around her back, tilting her head so that she looked up at him. She did not resist nor did she look as though she knew what he intended. Slowly, so that she would have time to draw back if she wished, he lowered his head and gently brushed his lips over hers.
He half expected her to take to her heels or cry out, but she did not. Instead her hands crept up his chest until they grasped the lapels of his coat, crushing them as she held on and parted her lips in a sigh he did not think she knew she expressed. He kissed her again, this time coaxing her to open wide and she did. Instantly he took advantage, drawing her closer still and dipping his tongue inside to taste the sweetness of her mouth. Even now she did not draw back but rather experimented, matching her tongue to his. Indeed, he was the one who finally drew back, breathing hard and feeling the gratification of knowing she did as well.
As he looked down at her, her eyes slightly dazed, she said, “Oh, my!”
Edmund couldn’t help smiling. It boded well that she was dazed by his kiss. If she enjoyed such things it would make the bond between them all the stronger and the breeding of heirs all that much more agreeable. Feeling quite pleased, he waited for her answer.
* * *
Beatrix stared up at Rothwood, stunned by how she felt, by all that was happening so rapidly. To be sure, none of this should have been a surprise. He had told her why he was here. Indeed, he must think her a total ninny that she did not know her own mind. But no matter what Mama said, it was not a simple matter to decide. What she chose would change her life forever. And his.
She had wanted to, had tried to be herself, these past seven days. But every time she found herself around him, she had become tongue-tied and deferred to his every opinion. How could she agree to marry him when he still didn’t know who she really was?
How could she not marry him when his kiss had the power to shake her to her very core and make her want to wrap herself around him and never let go? And when he offered so much to her family? If she married him, she need never worry about them again.
If she were honest with herself, Beatrix felt as much dazed by Rothwood’s kindness as by the kiss they had shared. She could easily come to depend upon the latter, but it was the way he spoke of taking care of her and thinking of her wishes that swayed her even more. She had never had anyone who put her wishes before his own. Certainly not in her own family!
Here was a man who would protect and cherish her. Here was a man who was the answer to her prayers and perhaps even to the prayers of her family. Here was someone who would never ask her to handle all the challenges of life while he did nothing. Even had she not been seduced by his embrace, she would have been seduced by all the rest of it.
Beatrix took a deep breath and looked up at him. “Yes,” she said. “Yes, I will gladly marry you.”
He gave a whoop of delight and kissed her again, this time briefly. Then he began to tug her toward the house.
She would make him the best of wives, she vowed to herself as she followed. She would look to his comfort as he looked to hers. She would never give him reason to regret choosing her as his bride. She even, though she blushed to think of it, was beginning to look forward to their wedding night and what else he might have to teach her about the pleasures that could be shared between a man and woman. After all, she never could have guessed that a kiss could all but curl one’s toes. His kiss had been nothing like the one stolen by the butcher’s son one day when he had been delivering mutton. Beatrix had the feeling she was about to discover more delights, both in and out of bed, than she had ever known were possible.
Inside the house, Rothwood informed her parents of their intention to wed. As he did so, he squeezed her hand and smiled so radiantly at Beatrix that it took her breath away.
“I should like us to be married as soon as possible,” Rothwood said to her father.
“The banns can be read starting this Sunday,” her mother said, quite happily.
Rothwood shook his head. “A special license. We can be wed by special license sooner than by having banns read for three weeks in a row.”
Beatrix listened as her future husband and her parents arranged matters between them. She did not question any of it. And why should she? What did she know of how difficult it was to procure a special license? What would it matter anyway if the wedding was in three weeks or one? She had jus
t agreed to give her life over to this man and surely that dwarfed everything else?
She ought to have been panicking but that wasn’t the case. Was it terrible of her to feel such relief and joy rather than regret? It didn’t matter. She could no more change or hide her delight than she could have changed the color of her eyes.
Beatrix had no idea how radiant her own smile was as she looked up at Rothwood and agreed to everything he said.
Chapter 5
It was very convenient having connections all over England to all sorts of people, including in the church. It was merely a matter of one day’s ride on a horse borrowed from Mr. Trowley’s stable to reach the Archbishop of Canterbury, obtain the special license, sit down to a very fine meal and then return to the Trowley household the following day.
Mind you, the Archbishop had not signed the document until after quizzing Rothwood on the marriage. “Precisely why do you wish to marry Miss Trowley and would your father approve?” he asked Edmund.
“I believe my father would approve. But that is neither here nor there for I am the one who must live with whomever I marry,” Rothwood replied. “As for why Miss Trowley? It is a sensible match. My aunt and her mother are bosom bows. Furthermore, she has been raised with a suitable understanding of propriety and she looks up at me adoringly and agrees with all my opinions. In short, she will be precisely the sort of dutiful wife I require.”
The Archbishop quirked a skeptical eyebrow upward at Rothwood’s words, and Rothwood found himself adding, somewhat testily, “I may be young but I am not so foolish as to forget what is due my family name. This is a marriage of practicality, not of sentimentality. Miss Trowley’s circumstances may not be equal to mine, but I assure you her breeding is all that could be desired and meets every requirement my father would have set for any wife I might choose.”
April Kihlstrom Page 6