It's Marriage Or Ruin

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It's Marriage Or Ruin Page 20

by Liz Tyner


  He inhaled, trying to keep the scent of her inside him and the feel of her warmth preserved in his memory.

  ‘This is the loveliest estate I have ever seen.’ She glowed.

  Marcus looked closer. She wore kohl and something else on her cheeks. Her lips were different. He could see they were deep red.

  ‘I know this wonderful home needs improvement, but I love it so much. Did you grow up here?’ she asked his father.

  ‘No. Stormhaven belonged to my father-in-law. I have always lived in London.’

  ‘Well. You can visit often and as long as you’d enjoy. You mustn’t miss a visit to the farm.’ She tipped herself closer to Marcus. ‘We have a colt who will make a fine stallion.’

  ‘I’m pleased to hear that.’ His father brightened. He respected good horseflesh.

  ‘And we might have a little one soon.’ Emilie continued. ‘I am hoping.’

  ‘I am proud to hear that.’ The older man beamed and clapped a hand on Marcus’s back.

  Marcus swallowed. It was improbable, to say the least.

  ‘Yes,’ she added, sparkling. ‘Bluestocking is going to have a calf. Our first baby born on the farm.’

  Marcus saw his father examine him from the corner of his vision.

  ‘Yes, Father. A calf. A pleasant addition to our quiet country home.’

  ‘I didn’t know you were happy about that, Marc.’ She patted his arm. ‘I didn’t even realise you’d guessed Bluestocking was going to have a calf. I was saving the surprise until tonight.’

  Marcus closed his hand over hers, then lifted it to his lips, bringing her closer. ‘A lovely surprise for my father.’

  The older man searched their faces.

  ‘Are you faring well, sir?’ she asked, leaning towards her father-in-law. ‘You seem at a loss for words.’

  ‘I’m doing fine,’ he added. ‘I was taken aback by your invitation. I had determined the two of you would still, be, um, happiest alone.’

  ‘No, no, no.’ She waved an arm. ‘We so love visitors. Marcus is skilled, working at the barns,’ she said, then Marcus saw her pause and stumble to correct her words. ‘He manages to get a lot done, without forgetting his status as your son. He is a credit to his noble birth. Very much your heir.’

  At some point he would show the blackened thumbnail and the calluses on his hand to his father.

  ‘I see.’ His father’s mouth sagged.

  ‘Perhaps we can go for a walk after we eat, Father?’ Marcus suggested.

  ‘My back is sore from the carriage ride, mayhap later?’ He strode forward. ‘Just a catch in it, nothing serious.’

  ‘Yes, that would be wonderful to tour where our gardens will be,’ Emilie agreed. ‘You must see our flock of chickens. We have three kinds and some are more sociable than others. Unfortunately, I didn’t get them when they were chicks so we are not as close as I would like.’

  Robert waited solemnly in the corner of the dining room, whisking out a chair if needed. Pouring wine instantly. Marcus bypassed the decanter and found the bottle, then observed the label, reassuring himself the drink had been taken from Cook’s cabinet.

  He noticed his father shaking his head gently. ‘Marcus, you seem to have worked a miracle.’

  ‘I can take no credit for the household, Father. It is in Emilie’s hands.’

  Robert stiffened more, if that were possible. ‘And, of course, Robert is invaluable.’

  The valet’s chin rose, the edges of his lips firmed, and he exuded serenity.

  ‘Emilie, is that how you see it?’ his father asked.

  ‘Marc is the mastermind behind the transformation,’ she assured him. ‘He brought me to this lovely place and lets me enjoy the forest, and I can explore all day with my easel at my side. I direct all improvements for the livestock pens. Can you imagine a more captivating endeavour than that?’

  ‘No... I cannot conjure such a delight.’ His father studied Emilie. ‘Your happiness seems genuine. I thought you might be displeased with the constraints placed on you. Especially in this forsaken wreckage that is a blight.’

  Marcus didn’t move a muscle.

  ‘This is a glorious property.’ Emilie reassured him. ‘The repairs needed are immense, but not insurmountable. It has been a dream come true to stay here with Marc. But, let us sit to discuss it. It will be a treat for me to have two such handsome men at my table. And it will be nice to spend more time with Marc as he works so...’ she paused, precisely selecting each word ‘...industriously supervising the hands when he is not...’ she looked to Marcus for the right word ‘...perusing ledgers or literary works.’

  Marcus doubted the two books he had in his room constituted literary works, but they were fine reading.

  ‘He directs the workers a substantial amount in his studies of becoming a great leader.’ She shrugged, raising a palm out, then touching her chest. ‘Of course, that steals him away from me, but I must trust his judgement.’

  His father inspected Marcus as if he could not be hearing correctly. Marcus shrugged.

  ‘Shall we eat now?’ Marcus asked.

  ‘Not yet,’ Emilie said. ‘I am expecting another member of my family.’

  He sat and watched as she kept a serene countenance. Her back straight and adoration shining from her. He drank his first glass almost before his hand had touched the stem.

  Robert was immediately at his side to refill. Marcus saw the other glass, and waited. Without a doubt, the night would continue as staged by Emilie.

  At that instant, Marcus heard the wheels of a vehicle. Emilie, Robert and Avondale all stopped.

  Robert withdrew to receive the guests.

  Marcus waited. Robert didn’t immediately return. Hushed murmurs sounded from the entrance.

  Footfalls clattered in the hallway.

  Marcus’s mother burst into the room, parasol at battle-ready status and her chin lowered. Robert crept in behind her.

  His father choked. Marcus rubbed his hand down the one side of his jaw and repeated the movement. He braced himself, shut his mouth and waited.

  ‘What a delight to find you here,’ she spoke to her husband.

  Avondale stood, swallowed and shoved back his chair.

  Robert took the parasol, after a brief back and forth. She didn’t want to release the weapon.

  She moved to Avondale and offered both gloves for him to kiss. ‘Dearest.’

  ‘My angel,’ he said. ‘It has been such a brief spell since I’ve seen you. You have improved with age. The years on your face always delight me.’

  ‘As you have,’ she said as she sauntered forward. ‘Those jowls are the best I have ever seen.’

  His mother stopped. ‘I could hardly believe it when Robert informed me of your presence.’ She moved away, turning to Emilie.

  ‘And my dear daughter, Emilie. When Robert said you were inviting Mother he thought that meant yours.’

  ‘When we met in the past, I had taken you into my heart,’ Emilie said. ‘And I wanted my first guests to be my second mother and father.’

  Marcus saw his mother’s intake of breath. It took up her entire torso. ‘Dear Emilie. What a pleasant compliment. I am awash with joy to be included in this day.’

  His mother would play her aggrieved role to the hilt on occasion, but she didn’t want to upset her new daughter.

  Lady Avondale drew her shoulders tight and shaped the perfected row of curls at her temples. ‘And you, Marcus, did you initiate any events of this wondrous gathering?’

  ‘No. It was a surprise to me.’

  She walked to him, extended her hands and he kissed above her gloves.

  ‘It is always delightful to see my son.’

  ‘You also, Mother.’

  ‘Sad to admit, but I have a thundering headache,’ his mother said, pressing the back
of her hand to her brow. ‘So I will not be good company.’

  ‘The usual conversation.’ Marcus’s father arose. ‘I can hardly believe it, the pain in my back has increased as well.’ He gave a slight bow to Emilie and then questioned Marcus. ‘Could you ask a servant to bring something to my room? I would not want to inflict my suffering on anyone and I have urgent business and must return to London.’

  ‘Robert. Please show my father to a room to have a lie down. And, enquire of Cook afterwards. She has a remedy from the apothecary which will relieve pain.’

  His father touched his hand to his back and limped from the room.

  After his father departed, Marcus looked at his mother. ‘Emilie and I have not spoken much of you and Father, and your devotion to each other.’

  She laughed soundly. ‘I’m amazed you haven’t because that would be the shortest conversation on record.’

  ‘I’ve had other things on my mind,’ Marcus admitted. ‘A marriage, a move and roofs that leak.’

  ‘I have no problem with letting my new daughter know that all is not glorious in our family. Speak freely.’ She moved to the glasses on the sideboard. ‘Your father and I always have. It clears the air, but makes the throat sore.’

  ‘You were both at the breakfast.’ Emilie clutched Marcus’s arm.

  ‘Yes. But we spoke with guests. People that mattered. Not each other. Heavens, no.’

  ‘Oh.’ Emilie’s mouth drooped. ‘And, I so wanted to do well.’

  ‘You have, my sweet,’ Lady Avondale reassured her, waving a finger in the direction her husband had taken. ‘It is that man who has erred.’

  ‘I fear I’m ill also. This is not what I had planned.’ Emilie squeezed Marcus’s arm. ‘Do you mind if I retire for a moment?’ Her words wavered.

  Marcus took hold of her wrist and reassured her with a smile. ‘I’m touched that you did this for us.’

  Emotions stirred and relief won. ‘Thank you.’ She lifted her hem and swept out of the room.

  ‘So, are you the lone one without a pain?’ his mother asked.

  ‘I would not say that. But I’m used to the thrill of having you and Father in the same room.’

  ‘More wine, Marc?’ She held the decanter.

  He looked at her. ‘Did I ever tell you about my puppy, Gus?’ he asked.

  She poured a liberal amount in his glass. ‘I saw the wound. And instructed the maid to bandage it. Gus had it in for you. I don’t know how Nathaniel did it, but I suspected he took your clothing and taught Gus to bite it.’ She pressed her lips so close they disappeared for a moment. ‘He confessed later that it had been an accident and he felt horrible for it. And you were upset. I suspected you to have given the pet away and I didn’t want either of you to find out what the other had done. You were boys, and brothers, an almost lethal combination.’

  ‘That—’ He remembered his mother’s presence. ‘That scoundrel.’

  He downed the liquid in his glass and held out his hand for the bottle. ‘I never suspected a thing.’

  ‘Marcus.’ Her voice soothed. ‘I fear I also have pressing business to attend to and I will not be able to stay long and am required at home. The housekeeper is ill and...um... I will direct the staff in her absence. I will leave as soon as I’ve spent a few moments refreshing my memories and I’ll return soon for a longer stay—when it is less crowded.’

  ‘Please, Mother, enjoy your meal. Forget about Father’s presence.’

  ‘I don’t know why I can’t get over detesting the man so much, Marcus. I can’t seem to put the past behind me.’ She scowled.

  ‘You have both been to several events recently and you’ve deliberated together on what Nathaniel and I should do with ourselves.’

  ‘I try to be in the same room with him. But when I see him, the past jabs at me and it irks me to say a pleasant word to him, and returning to this place of my youth has stirred my emotions more than I expected.’

  ‘I hadn’t thought of that.’

  ‘Nor had I. Please let Emilie know I will be pleased to visit longer before long and I won’t be underfoot as I will be returning to my memories and building new ones with her.’

  ‘I will.’

  ‘I suspect I should commence some reminiscences with you as well, my son. But I would rather return later when Avondale isn’t present. I was thankful I didn’t know in advance when you were to be married so I could not dread the sight of your father.’ She crossed her arms, a glass in her grasp. ‘I forgave and forgave and forgave. It gets tedious. And I’m still forgiving him.’

  She sipped. ‘That’s why you have Nathaniel and your sister, and no other siblings. I love all my children, but I could see him so strongly in you and your brother. I had to get past that, too.’

  ‘Have you forgiven us for being his sons?’

  ‘I try. I know it isn’t your fault.’

  As a youngster, Marcus had noticed the affection she’d bestowed on his sister and the reserve she’d meted out to Nathaniel and him. But she’d put Robert near them and encouraged them all to care for each other.

  Marcus’s father had pulled his sons closer as they grew and it had worked out well enough for Marcus and Nathaniel.

  ‘That was hardest for me. To see the image of someone you dislike when you look at your children. It wasn’t so obvious at first, but as you and Nate grew, it nearly killed me, but loving you both made it a little easier to see your father.’

  ‘Do you hate him?’

  ‘I pretend to.’

  She wandered closer to Marcus. ‘And you? How is your marriage?’

  ‘Better than yours.’

  She smiled. ‘Don’t be like your father.’

  ‘I’m not.’

  ‘I fear Nathaniel will be.’

  Marcus turned away from his mother. ‘Some women term him grand.’ He worried that Emilie did.

  ‘Well, if he doesn’t straighten up, I can assure you any wife will not see him as grand.’

  Marcus withheld comment, moved closer and kissed his mother’s cheek. ‘Thank you for visiting.’

  Robert entered and moved closer to his sister.

  ‘Of course, I wanted to visit. Much of my family is here now.’ She turned to Robert.

  ‘Make yourself at home.’ Marcus indicated Robert. ‘He’ll take you on a tour and show you the progress.’

  Robert moved forward. ‘Shall we begin, Lady Avondale?’

  She agreed. ‘I’d love to walk the same trails I favoured as a child. This will be the first occasion to view them with my brother.’

  They departed and Marcus grabbed the wine and returned it to Cook.

  Then he headed for the stairs.

  On the fifth tread, his boot stopped. In that second, he was no longer in the shadow of his father, mother, his grandparents or anyone else.

  He claimed his footprints, his family and his wife.

  The others he could not control, but himself, he would direct.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Marcus’s mother departed without returning inside.

  Later Marcus coaxed his father out of his room and they had tea together. His father rose to the occasion, becoming the generous Avondale who could not utter an unkind word and could make the crowd around him erupt in laughter.

  The sight pleased Marcus and he stood behind Emilie, a hand on her chair, and when she laughed, she leant sideways and his thumb skimmed her shoulder, and he didn’t move away.

  Another consequence of marriage he’d not predicted. A feeling of solidarity when in the presence of others. He wanted their hearts to be lodestones for each other and he didn’t know if Emilie, with her inexperience, her comparative youth, could be ready to settle into such a restrictive role.

  He doubted he would have five years earlier. In fact, he was sure of it. He’d not been ready to ac
cept responsibility, until he viewed Emilie engrossed in something that escaped him.

  His father had gouged at him about heirs for many years and his mother had only concerned herself recently. But nothing had changed in him until he saw Emilie.

  He never expected any competition when he selected a wife. And perhaps it was for the best she’d not fluttered around him.

  When his father pushed himself to his feet, Marcus stood. ‘Emilie, let us show my father the efforts we’ve made outdoors at Stormhaven before he leaves.’

  He extended a hand and, when his fingers closed over hers, the feeling of phenomena invaded him even stronger than the instant when he’d looked at the stars.

  He and Emilie walked with his father to the barn. Pride invaded him at the sight of trimmed paths and the sound of hammers.

  Stopping at the pens, he waited as Emilie tugged on a handful of grass and held it out to the cows.

  She moved closer to her little herd, indicating them as she spoke. ‘You have already heard of Bluestocking. The one there is Josephine. That one is Blackguard. The other is Madame Heart for the marking on her side.’

  ‘You named the cows?’ his father asked her.

  ‘Of course. If the horses are to have names, then I could not leave the cows out.’

  ‘I’ve not named anything except the horses I’ve had. In truth, I had little to do with naming my own children.’ He contemplated the cows.

  ‘That’s sad,’ Emilie said.

  ‘Marcus’s mother and I began to part ways even before his birth.’

  She paused and looked at Marcus. Neither of them spoke.

  ‘My father and I picked the best bride and I could not have married a better woman,’ Avondale said. ‘Never question my assertion that I married the best woman to be my wife.’

  ‘Perhaps grandchildren will bring you closer,’ Emilie said.

  ‘Although that is a nice hope, I doubt it.’ Avondale’s eyes discounted the suggestion.

  Marcus pulled up a handful of grass and also held it out to the cows, and they wandered to him.

 

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