by Laura Landon
“Come in, Petronella.” Her father walked across the room and took her elbow to escort her close to where Lord Danvers stood.
“My lady,” he greeted.
“Lord Danvers,” she curtsied.
Nella took a moment to meet his gaze. She only wanted to memorize his features this last time before she would never see him again.
Her breath caught. His usually devilish grin was tinged with sadness, his brow knitted as if he wrestled with some impossible problem. Yet even with these changes, she still felt his strength, still sensed his ownership of the space he occupied.
How was it possible for one man’s features to be so perfectly formed? From her safe distances in grand ballrooms his features had seemed as if drawn on an artist’s canvas. But here, practically within arm’s reach, the life and health and color made his face alive with tense emotion. Her heart shifted in her breast.
“Sit down, Petronella,” her father ordered. “Lord Danvers and I have been discussing your marriage arrangements.”
“I’m sorry, Papa, but that is not necessary. I am not going to marry Lord Danvers.”
Her father and Lord Danvers both looked at her as if they couldn’t have heard her correctly.
“What did you say?” her father asked.
“I said I have no intention of marrying Lord Danvers, Father. It’s not something I want, nor is it something Lord Danvers desires. What happened last night was a mistake. A horrible accident not worth ruining his lordship’s future or my own.”
“I’m afraid you don’t understand, Petronella,” her father said in a harsh voice. “You don’t have a choice in the matter. Your future is already ruined.”
“But I do have a choice, Father. I’ve reached my majority and can no longer be forced into a marriage.”
“You obviously haven’t thought this through, Petronella. You are a ruined woman. You no longer have any prospects for a respectable marriage.”
Nella wanted to laugh. Was her father so blind he couldn’t see she never did have prospects for marriage—respectable or no?
“It’s my life you’re talking about. You’ve brought me up to know my own mind and achieve what I want in life. Well,” she said, turning to face him, “that is exactly what I’m doing.
“But—”
Nella turned her back on her father and moved to face the earl. “I thank you for your proposal of marriage, my lord, but I respectfully decline your offer.”
An uncomfortable silence stretched through the room. Nella watched, fascinated, as strings of tension corded along the young earl’s neck.
Her father swung around to glare at her with lips pursed tightly and a hardened look in his eyes. In her three and twenty years, she had seldom gone against her father’s wishes, but she could see the disappointment on his face. And the anger.
“If you will excuse me now.” Nella turned to walk to the door.
“Wait, my lady.”
Nella stopped and turned at the commanding tone in Lord Danvers’ voice.
“A moment, Lady Petronella,” Danvers continued, then turned to address her father. “Lord Shelton,” he said, seeming to stiffen his spine, “would you allow me a few moments alone with your daughter?”
The look on her father’s face indicated this wasn’t going as he’d planned and he wasn’t sure what to do. Finally, he gave a sharp nod of his head. “Of course, Danvers. I will be right outside should you need me.”
“Thank you,” the earl said, then remained standing until her father left. When they were alone, the earl walked to the other side of the room and stood before the window. “Would you do me a favor, Lady Petronella? Would you please tell me what happened last night? You see, I’m having difficulty remembering anything past receiving a note inviting me to…to meet with a…a certain female of my acquaintance.”
“You were drugged, my lord.”
“By you?”
Nella took a deep breath. “No, not by me. It was merely my intention to—”
“Then who?”
The name was on the tip of her tongue. How easily it could spill out and she would be rid of the horrid secret. But just as she would not wish to be betrayed, she could not wish to be the betrayer. There had to be another way to make him see there was an honorable solution to their dilemma.
“It no longer matters, my lord. What’s done is done.”
He turned and walked toward her. She hadn’t realized how very tall he was, but the closer he came to her the smaller in stature she felt. That was new, and she rather liked it.
“You realize we have to marry, do you not?”
“No, Lord Danvers. We do not have to marry. While I did not drug you nor have any part in the despicable ploy, it is still my fault you were put in this predicament, and I alone have the ability to save you from the consequences.”
“And if I don’t want to be saved from the consequences?”
Nella smiled. “Of course you do, my lord. This is not the time to be noble. Gallantry will not spare you…or me…from a lifetime of regret. Doing what only appears to be right will put us in an impossible situation.”
“You realize you’ll be an outcast if we don’t marry,” he said with a tilt of his head.
An outcast. She’d never used that word before, but she certainly understood it. The only difference between her current status and outcast is that she would no longer be among Society. Either way, she’d be invisible, just as she had always been.
Nella could do nothing but answer his accusation with another smile. What did he know of being an outcast?
“And you will be an outcast if we do marry, my lord.”
“If we don’t, you will no longer be accepted in polite society. Never again,” he countered.
“That is something I’m resigned to live with.”
His words didn’t affect her. Her father had already informed her that since the youngest of her three sisters was to have her come-out next year, Nella would not accompany them to London. He could not afford the expense of outfitting all of his four daughters.
“You can save your words, my lord. My mind is firmly made up. You are not obliged to marry me. You may inform Society that you did what you were required to do and offered for my hand but were refused.”
“Who do you think will believe that, my lady?”
“You believe you are that remarkable a catch?” Nella asked, then wished she could take back her words. They were hurtful and cruel and nothing that resembled her true nature.
“I’m sorry,” she said, lowering her gaze. “I know people will at first doubt that your offer was turned down, but in time, they will believe you. My father will make it known.”
Nella paced the floor and tried to come up with another reason to thwart his claim. “I have no doubt that at first all will believe you paid my father to avoid having to marry me, but that notion will fade in time. And…” Nella swallowed hard. She did not want him to think she pitied herself, yet she knew that was how her words would sound. “…and, no one will blame you.”
An angry expression darkened his features. With long steps, he walked to her father’s sideboard and poured himself a glass of Dutch courage. He took one long swallow, then turned to face her.
“Why are you doing this?”
“Because marrying me is something you do not want to do.” She spoke the words with every bit of emphasis she could summon.
“Do you honestly believe that makes a difference?”
“Accept the out I am offering you, my lord. It’s what you want, and it’s what will be best for both of us.”
He separated himself from her and turned to look outside. He stood with his legs braced wide, his white-knuckled hands clasped behind his back, and his broad shoulders rigid. He did not speak for what seemed an eternity, and Nella wondered why it was taking him so long to agree with her offer. He should jump at the chance to avoid marrying her, yet…
“We will marry, my lady. I will procure a special license, unle
ss of course, you wish to have an elaborate London wedding.”
Nella felt her temper rise. “I do not wish an elaborate London wedding, my lord.” She took one step toward him. “I do not wish to have any kind of wedding at all.”
“Then perhaps you should have thought of that before you compromised both yourself and me.” He took another swallow of his drink. “I did not invite you to that room. You came of your own accord. Nor did I entice you to stay there until we were discovered. That, too, was a choice you made. If anyone is the innocent party in this debacle, I am. It is now incumbent upon you to do what is required in order for me to get my good name back.”
Nella stared at him. It was he who pinned her to floor. It was he who resisted her attempts to get him out of the room in time. Yet, he was putting the blame for what had happened on her. He was demanding that she marry him as penance. She would die of embarrassment if she was forced to stand at his side. The ugly duckling and the handsome prince. Him the frowning beauty and her the cringing, hideous beast.
Nella walked to the sofa on unsteady legs and sank down with an unladylike plop. She stared at the paisley carpet that swam before her eyes and prayed it would stop moving. In time, she slowly lifted her gaze.
“If…” she said, “and it’s a very uncertain ‘if’…” She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “If I agree to marry you, what would you expect from our marriage?”
The earl leveled her a serious look. “I would expect you to be a wife to me in all ways.”
Nella stared at her hands clutched in her lap and nodded in assent.
“And, I would hope that in time you would give me an heir.”
She clutched her hands tighter and nodded in assent.
“And what would you expect, my lady? Or are your demands so numerous you cannot name them all?”
“If we were to marry, I would have only one demand, my lord.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Only one? What, pray tell, is your single demand?”
“I would make you promise that after we married I would be allowed to reside in the country. You could go to London as often as you liked, and stay as long as you liked, but I would want your promise that I would not be required to accompany you.”
“You would not wish to enjoy Society’s revels?”
“No, my lord. I would not.”
He lifted his glass to his mouth and remained silent as if evaluating her one demand. “Are you sure that is your only request?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Then I agree.”
“What!?” She fairly jumped to her feet.
“I agree. I will procure a special license and we will marry at the earliest convenience. I assume you would like to hold the ceremony here?”
“No!” she replied more firmly. “Did you not hear me? I do not want to marry you! And why would I? Nothing happened!”
“But no matter what you or I say, the world believes otherwise. So hear me well. You don’t have a choice. And neither do I.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “I will repeat my question. Do I assume correctly that you would like to hold the ceremony here?”
There was nothing more she could say, and yet she had to. This outcome was untenable. She had to make him see the alternative. Make a united front and confess their innocence. Even as she opened her mouth to speak, she wondered what words would come out. But he stayed her with his hand.
“You may profess your innocence all you want, but either way, I am ruined.”
It was in that moment that she saw desperation in his face. There were reasons he had not—would not, apparently—share, reasons she wished with all her heart she could discern.
He stood there, poised on the brink of a life neither of them wanted, begging.
Nella swallowed hard. “Yes.”
His head jerked, as if he’d been hit by more than a mere word.
“Very well.”
He turned to call her father into the room but Nella stopped him. She had to offer him one more opportunity to escape this marriage. “You don’t have to do this, your lordship. I will gladly assume the responsibility for rejecting you.”
“Would that were possible, my lady, but it is far too late for that.”
Nella watched him step to the door and call her father back into the room. She sat quietly to the side while they discussed the remaining items in the marriage contract.
Even though she sat in stoic silence, she couldn’t stop the tears spilling from her eyes. She’d never intentionally hurt anyone in her life, yet she had.
She’d hurt the one man she’d loved for years. The one man she would have done anything to save.
Chapter 4
In a blur, the week passed before his eyes, but it was finally over. He’d procured a special license and was now a married man.
He’d taken more ribbing than he thought he could endure. The usual congratulations and good wishes reserved for those getting married reminded him more of words of sympathy.
He’d been teased and harassed because it had always been assumed that he would marry a great beauty. Instead, he was marrying a female lacking beauty or popularity. He’d even heard it bandied about that more than one of his friends thought of him with a generous amount of pity. It was the greatest betrayal from his friends for them to laugh at his misfortune. But he could not deny the truth of their derision. He would wake up every morning for the rest of his life facing a completely unremarkable, plump female.
But the worst of it was over now. He and his new bride were on their way to his country estate. To Colworth Abbey.
“Are you comfortable?” he asked his bride.
“Yes, very. How much longer before we reach your estate?”
“Another hour or so.”
“So your home isn’t that far from London?”
“No. Little more than two hours away from the City.”
His new wife looked at him and smiled. There was something very pleasing about her when she smiled, a gentleness that hinted at good humor. At least he could take comfort in that.
James hadn’t really taken the opportunity to study her features before. Her face was round and her cheeks plump, but her big sapphire eyes shone with warmth. And occasionally, merriment. There was something enticing in the excitement he saw in her eyes when she looked past him out the window at the passing scenery.
“Do you have many tenants?” she asked.
“Eight. In a few weeks I will introduce you to the families that tend my land and livestock.”
“Would it be impolite if I asked what dowry you received from my father?”
“Your father offered me a parcel of land neighboring Colworth Abbey. It will be a good addition to my estate and comes with three additional tenant families.”
“Yes, I know it well. The Andersons, Baileys, and Waters are the families that live on the land.”
“You are familiar with them?”
“Yes. I often went with my father when he made the rounds of his holdings.”
“Then I will be sure to take you with me when I visit them.”
“I would like that.”
She smiled and James experienced a gentle pull towards her. But he easily resisted it.
“Is there a village nearby your estate? One large enough to have shops and a bookstore?”
“Are you a reader, Petronella?”
“Yes. I’m afraid I enjoy reading as much as almost anything.”
“Then you will be pleased to know there’s an excellent bookstore in Siding Cross. We’ll visit there soon.”
“Oh, you’ll not have to accompany me, my lord. I’m sure I’ll be able to find my way.”
“James. Please, call me James.”
She lowered her gaze as if she was surprised he’d invited her to call him by his first name so soon after they were married.
“Then you must call me Nella. It’s what my family and friends call me.”
“Very well, Nella.”
James was gra
teful for her easy ways, though they were laced with more than a bit of underlying nervousness. What she had to be nervous about escaped him. She was withdrawing to the country, a wish she’d expressed more than once. It was he who would be braving the world and its unpleasant opinion of him. She, on the other hand, had absolutely nothing to fear.
For miles he worked to stow his resentment in a place where it wouldn’t be a constant reminder of his former life. He concentrated on what this turn of events might mean to him not just as husband, but as earl. From this day forward he would face the world not as a wealthy bachelor, but as the settled lord of an enviable estate.
And that was a stunning thought.
Perhaps that was the blessing in all this. He would no longer be the free and easy unattached fellow with all its obligations to marriage-minded mamas. Now he could allow himself to lead with his more serious side. If that became true, he would welcome it.
James looked out the window and smiled. “We’re here.”
“Oh,” she said, turning to follow his gaze. She released a sigh. “Your manor house is beautiful.”
The carriage slowed, then stopped, and James jumped to the ground. “Allow me,” he said, holding out his hand for her to take.
She took it and he helped her alight. He was surprised. She wasn’t at all delicate, but even with her ample weight, she was graceful.
They walked to the front door that his butler, Covey, held open for them. James introduced his new wife to Covey, then to Mrs. Pendleton, the housekeeper, the upstairs maid Blackstone, the downstairs maid Elffing, then to Cook. They all bobbed prettily when they met the woman he’d married, but James couldn’t help but notice the looks of surprise on their faces.
He told himself he needed to get used to that expression. It would happen often until everyone in the village and neighborhood had met her.
Everyone would wear a similar expression of shock and surprise when they met the woman he’d married. She wasn’t what any of them expected. But, he told himself, in time the surprise would evaporate.
“Mrs. Pendleton, would you please show Lady Danvers to her rooms?”