Visions of Lady Mary

by Rachel Ann Smith

  “Greene, were you aware that I was betrothed to Lord Waterford this past year?”

  Her maid dropped her gaze to the floor and wrung her hands in front of her. “Yes, my lady. I was informed.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I was hoping he’d not make it back from the Continent this time. Your family waited all those years to see if he would return from the war, and then when he returned, your papa told him his time was up. His Grace threatened to marry you off to another if he didn’t sign the papers.”

  In her formative years she had accepted that there were events and disappointments that one could not avoid. Aunt Agnes and Lady Frances foretold Gilbert was the man she was destined to marry. She understood that some things, no matter what choices you make, are unavoidable, but for her parents and others to have acted as they did—blast them all!

  Suppressing a surge of indignation, Mary calmly said, “Thank you for sharing this with me. Sorry to have awoken you. Please go back to bed.”

  Mary laid her head back upon the pillow and stared at the canopy above, mulling over the fact no one had cared or bothered to consult her about her wants, needs, or wishes.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Stomping back to his room, Gilbert flung himself atop his bed. Mary hadn’t uttered a single retort to his confessions. Sliding his hands behind his head, he closed his eyes.

  Hadfield. When she believed she had a choice, Mary had chosen Hadfield and not him. How was he to convince her a life with him would be ultimately better than marrying the man across the hall?

  Phillip’s voice whispered once more. Remember what I shared with you.

  The letters!

  Scrambling off the bed, he pulled out his satchel hidden beneath the bed. He reached in to retrieve the stack of letters Mary had sent to Phillip during the war. He hadn’t read them, despite his promise to Phillip he would. The man really had a long list of wishes upon his death.

  Gilbert untied the blue ribbon that held the tattered letters together. Phillip had placed them in chronological order with the very first letter he received on the top. His fingers trembled as he unfolded the parchment to read:

  Dear Philly,

  * * *

  I’m stuck inside again today. Mama refuses to allow me to ride in the rain.

  But I long for the bite of the wind against my cheeks and the balm of the fresh, clean water seeping into my pores.

  * * *

  Enough of my woes. To answer your question, do I agree with the theorems of Joseph Fourier? His ideas on time and heat are of particular interest. However, with the limited resources available to me, now that you have abandoned me, it will take me a few weeks to organize my thoughts, but do not fear. I will endeavor to provide you with a thorough analysis.

  * * *

  Your devoted sister,

  Mary

  Mary had always exhibited a keen mind, but her interest in the complex theorems relating to the transfer of heat and energy between physical systems was surprising. He certainly couldn’t deny the heat that he generated whenever she entered a room.

  Gilbert read through the letter again. What a dunce he had been! Mary’s intense curiosity had been facilitated by her brother. Phillip had been her confidant and conspirator, assisting in obtaining data for her research and gaining introductions for her to go on explorations.

  Without Phillip, she needed a husband that could provide her access to information and adventure. He could provide exactly what Mary wanted. His duties ensured he was constantly on the hunt for new intelligence and led him on more than one escapade.

  A bead of sweat ran down his spine. By involving her in his missions, he would be placing Mary in danger. Was marrying Mary while in the midst of an assignment a wise decision? Gilbert glanced at the paper in his hand. No more excuses. Mary was going to be Countess Waterford by day’s end.

  Footsteps sounded in the hall. He hastily replaced the letters in the satchel and kicked it under the bed. Hadfield swept in, not even bothering to close the door. The man pulled back the curtains. Muted streaks of sunlight filtered through—what time was it?

  After scanning the room, Hadfield’s gaze settled upon him. “Lady Mary is missing. We need to find her before her papa does.” He released the curtain and bent to look under the bed. “His Grace is in no mood for games and wants a ceremony to be held later this afternoon.”

  Without sleep, Gilbert’s brain was not fully functioning. “Afternoon? A ceremony today? Wait, Mary is missing?”

  Striding to the adjoining chamber, Hadfield placed a hand on each side of the door casing and stuck his head in. When he emerged, he said, “Yes. Her maid awoke to find Mary’s bed empty this morn.”

  Hadfield was here to search his room.

  “She’s not in here.” No. After telling her the truth, he had seen to it that Mary was safely tucked away in her own bed. “I’m sure she is somewhere about the estate.” Gilbert bent to retrieve and put on his boots.

  “No one has seen Mary, and Valois has already questioned all the staff. None have laid eyes on her since last eve. When did you see her last?”

  Gilbert did not care for Hadfield’s question or tone. “Why do you want to know?”

  “She has been withdrawn ever since we left Comte Boucher’s estate. Making a decision has weighed on her heavily.”

  Donning his coat, Gilbert said, “There is no question as to who she is to marry.”

  Hadfield stood directly in front of him. “That is a rather bold statement. Do you care to explain?”

  “Her papa and I already signed the settlements. Mary is betrothed to me.”

  “Why did you fail to mention any of this before?”

  If Mary was genuinely missing, now was not the time to discuss how foolish his actions had been.

  Gilbert asked, “Has Valois searched the grounds?”

  “It’s raining. Surely she wouldn’t have ventured outdoors.”

  His blood pumped faster. Rain. Hadn’t he learned just last night Mary loved to venture out in the rain—to feel the moisture soak into her pores. He felt in his bones she was out roaming the estate grounds. “Very well, you continue to search indoors, and I’ll conduct the search outside.”

  He needed to find her. The possibility of Mary lying injured in a ditch or lost in the dark and cold sent a chill down his spine. He shook off the morbid thoughts. Mary was a skilled horsewoman. Tarnation! Accomplished or no, the dark made every unseen obstacle deathly.

  Gilbert rushed to reach the door.

  From behind, Hadfield said, “André and I are leaving tomorrow at first light. We must return to London.”

  Gilbert turned to meet the man’s hard stare.

  Hadfield continued, “Your assignment ends here.”

  No way Gilbert wasn’t going to complete the mission. Mary wanted adventure, and she had proved more than capable during their visit to Comte Boucher’s estate. Once they were married, he wouldn’t be distracted by the woman who had his mind and stomach tied in knots.

  Gilbert marched up to Hadfield. Nose to nose, he said, “I only take direction from one man, and that is Archbroke. My orders were to see you safely returned to English soil when you were ready, and that is precisely what I plan to do.”

  “What is the matter with all the agents of the Home Office? You are all dunderheads to place duty before all else. Mary is to be your wife. She is to be your number one priority. If you insist on continuing, she will no doubt want to accompany us. Are you willing to place her in danger?”

  “Mary will not be a burden. If anything, she will be a valuable asset to our team.”

  The smirk Hadfield gave him reminded Gilbert never to underestimate the man. “We’ll find her first.”

  Hadfield was right. He needed to locate Mary, convince her to marry him, and then deal with details of his assignment.

  Gilbert walked in the blinding rain. What had started as a relatively light shower had become a torrential downpour.
r />   Cupping his hands about his mouth, Gilbert yelled, “Lass, where are you!”

  He glanced at his pocket watch once more. He had been out wandering the estate for hours, finding no hint of which direction Mary might have headed. Oddly proud of her stealthy skills, he was simultaneously concerned he might never figure out how to find her. He had been so sure Mary would have been hidden in the gamer’s cottage, but when he found it empty, his heart sank with disappointment. Continuing to trudge through the woods, Gilbert stopped to tug his coat tighter about him.

  “What is taking the obstinate man so long?” Mary’s mutterings reached his ears, but her voice came from above. Raising his gaze higher, he spotted a small wooden structure mounted high up in the branches.

  How had the woman found such an obscure hideaway?

  Making his way to the decades-old tree, he began to climb the wood slats nailed to the trunk. Gilbert froze as Mary continued to rant.

  “How could he believe I’d simply agree to marry him?”

  After a minute of silence, he was about to take another step when she continued.

  “I certainly will not.”

  Again silence. Who was she talking to? Considering the length of the pauses between her outbursts, he guessed the voices had returned.

  “Gilbert, I know you are out there. Are you coming up, or shall I come down?”

  Yes, even her sharp-witted tone had returned.

  “I’ll come to you.” With each rung, he mentally reiterated each reason why she should marry him—preparing for the battle he was about to enter. With his eyes peering over the platform, he caught sight of her riding boots. Odd. He hadn’t seen a mount tied up nearby. As he took another step up, his eyes traveled up along her long legs clad in breeches, revealing every curve of her delicious body. “Lass, you have everyone worried and looking for you.”

  “Oh, so now everyone is concerned about my whereabouts.”

  Climbing up to the platform, he had to bend at the knees to prevent hitting his head on the wooden ceiling. “Lass, please let me explain.”

  Without hesitation, she walked up to stand before him. Her honey-brown eyes were ablaze. “You said more than enough last night. Today, it is my turn to speak and for you to listen.”

  Gilbert was a seasoned soldier accustomed to taking orders, and he’d willingly take them from the woman in front of him as long as she agreed to become Countess Waterford.

  He bowed his head in assent.

  “Aside from running away and assuming a new identity, I see I have no other choice but to marry you. While I considered the advantages of becoming someone new, I adore my nephews and niece too much to cut off those familial strings.” Mary took two steps away, but due to the cramped conditions, she turned again and, after a moment, ordered, “Sit.”

  He looked at the tiny chair, uncertain that it would hold his weight. It was worth the humiliation of landing on his rear if it meant Mary continued her impassioned speech.

  With the extra room, Mary managed to take four steps. She began to pace wall to wall. Four steps away, four steps back.

  “Where was I?” Her forefinger tapped against pursed lips. Lips he desperately wanted to kiss. “Do you intend to ship me back to Scotland?”

  Mary’s question snapped the wayward thought from his mind.

  Should she venture to Scotland? Yes, if only for her safety. No, he wanted Mary with him, always. He hadn’t made any plans. His attention for the entire day had been focused on finding her. With eyes trained on the floor, Gilbert said, “I intend to return to London with Hadfield in the morn. If you wish, you can journey back at a more leisurely pace with your family. I’ll come to fetch you when my assignment is complete.”

  Mary snorted. “Once this one is complete, Archbroke will simply assign you to another. And thus you shall remain ‘on assignment’ until you no longer can complete them, allowing you to avoid me for many more years to come.”

  His face flushed. Based on his past behavior, he could not fault her reasoning. “Then I shall inform Archbroke that I wish to retire, and this shall be my last mission.”

  Mid-step, Mary whirled to face him, eyes filled with worry. “Why would you do that?”

  “Because it’s time I tended to my other duties as a lord.”

  “To produce an heir.” Mary’s hands shook. She quickly clasped them behind her back.

  Gilbert nodded. “Among other things, yes.”

  “And what if I told you that I’m not willing to bear you a child? Would you assist me in convincing my papa that the match is not a suitable one?”

  Gilbert considered Mary’s statement for a moment. She had spoken the words as if she had shared a deep dark secret. Were the obligations of his title and her desire not to reproduce what prevented her from accepting his offer? No, that couldn’t be the reason for her refusal. Hadfield was also titled.

  “No. I will not assist you in persuading your papa to allow you to marry another. If we do not produce the next Earl of Waterford, the title will pass to my cousin. He’s a good fellow.”

  Mary stared at him with wide eyes as if he had gone mad. “What?”

  “If you have no desire to have children, there are ways to prevent a child from being conceived. I have no objection to your wish.” He spoke the truth. All he needed was Mary.

  Mary stared at him. “I’m very serious, Gilbert. While I love Thomas’s offspring, I’m quite happy when they return to their parents’ care and I’m able to continue with my hobbies. It sounds selfish, but I do not believe I’m the maternal sort.”

  What was he to say? Not having younger siblings or any siblings to produce nieces and nephews, Gilbert hadn’t been exposed to little ones. He searched his heart. Mary was more than enough for him. If she preferred not to have any children, then he would gladly spend the rest of his days with her and her alone.

  How to convince her of his agreement?

  Her hands still tucked behind her, Gilbert waited until he managed to capture her gaze. “You will gain no argument from me on the subject. Did you think that I would not want to wed you or that I’d love you less if you preferred not to have my child?”

  Mary’s eyes bore into him.

  He ached to reach out and hold her. “Sorry to disappoint you, lass, but we are going to marry as soon as we return to the house, and you will be subject to my company for the rest of your life.”

  Turning away from him, Mary said, “If that is the way it is to be, I’d prefer to remain here in France until you are done with your duties.”

  “No.” The image of the Valois taking advantage of a lonely Mary flashed before him. He would not be cuckolded.

  Mary muttered. “See! He still doesn’t believe in me.” Hands on her hips, she turned to face him. “Don’t try to deny it. It is clearly written upon your features.”

  For a moment, he had been confused as to whom she had addressed. He would have to accept that she saw and spoke to others whom he was unaware of, but first to convince her to willingly return with him and accept his hand. He partially stood. “Mary, it is your turn to sit and listen.”

  She huffed but shuffled past him to plonk down in the small chair he had just vacated.

  Gilbert knelt and reached for her wrist, needing to determine if her pulse was racing as fast as his. “Tell me what your ideal future would entail, with the caveat that I am included in that scenario.”

  “Why waste our time? We should discuss the reality of the situation, not some fairy-tale ending.”

  Yes, Mary’s pulse was racing. He lifted her wrist to place his lips upon the delicate skin on the inside. “Indulge me.”

  “Very well. I would prefer our union to be a partnership of sorts. I’d like to travel with you when you are on assignments and wish for your confidence. I believe I could be of assistance.” Mary looked down at where they were joined. “I do not wish to be banished to some remote part of Scotland.”

  He couldn’t prevent the grin from appearing on his face. “
Lass, if I promise to do everything in my power to grant you the life you just described, will you do me the honor of becoming Countess Waterford?”

  Her forehead wrinkled, and then to his relief, Mary smiled.

  The idea of having her by his side every day was appealing, not appalling. He could wait for her to return his affections. He had the rest of his life to beg for forgiveness and prove to her he was worthy of her love.

  Mary remained nervous—the quickening beat of her pulse against his fingers told him so.

  “Do you swear?” The steel in her voice belied her anxiety.

  Gilbert released her hands and raised his right hand to cover his heart. “I do.”

  How long was she going to make him wait?

  Even as the seconds ticked by, he was flooded with remorse for all the years he had made her wait.

  The corner of Mary’s lip turned up into the most alluring smile. “Very well. I agree.”

  Gilbert exhaled the breath he was holding. “Finally.”

  She cupped his cheek and bent down to press her sweet lips to his. How he hungered for her touch. Capturing her by the waist, he stood to haul her into his arms but hit his head hard as he straightened. “Oof.”

  Mary’s giggle had him smiling too as he rubbed the top of his head. “We should head back. There is still much to organize.”

  “By the time we reach the estate, Valois will have already had everything arranged.” She looked down at her attire. “Will you require me to change before we say our vows?”

  He thought she looked rather delectable—white lawn shirt peeking from beneath her unbuttoned greatcoat, breeches, and Hessians. “No. I’d rather you say them before you have a chance to change your mind.”

  “You are willing to marry me as I am?”

  Grinning like a fool, he said, “Exactly as you are.”

  After a chaste kiss, he released her and began to lower himself down the entrance, balancing on his toes upon the makeshift stairs. Glancing up, he was pleased to see Mary carefully lowering her foot down the tree trunk to find purchase on each rung. It also gave him a perfect view of her derrière. He hoped they would have time this eve to consummate their marriage.