by Regina Darcy
“Oh, David!”
With his good arm, David pulled her to his side and there, in full view of a servant and his guests, he gave his wife a kiss which, while it did not have the spontaneous abandon of the kisses they had enjoyed on their carriage ride, was entirely lacking in decorum. When he released his wife, Theodosia gazed at him wide-eyed.
“You really are better now,” she said.
“At kissing?” he inquired as he linked his good arm with hers and walked to the table. “How have you come to be a connoisseur of kissing while I’ve been confined to my bed?”
Theodosia blushed. “That’s not what I meant,” she said in a low voice, embarrassed at the fascinated scrutiny of everyone else in the room.
“David, it’s splendid to see you about,” Arthur said.
“I’m afraid I shall still rely on you to carve the goose,” David said. “But I’m feeling much better now and I owe it all to the ministrations of my wife.”
“Indeed you do,” Arthur agreed as Abbot brought in the platter upon which the Christmas goose awaited. “She has been quite attentive. I’m hanged if I know what makes sitting at your bedside so attractive, since you’ve been asleep most of the time, but we haven’t been able to lure her away, not even for a simple game of cards.”
“There’s no accounting for her taste,” David said philosophically. “I’ve had much time to think. At least, I have had time to think when my wife wasn’t drugging me with laudanum and then running off for kissing lessons with some chap.”
“You asked for the laudanum and the doctor prescribed it,” she reminded him. “As for the kissing lessons . . . I’ve had very little opportunity to practice during your convalescence.”
“I’m much better now, I hope you’ve noticed. Abbot, will you tell Mrs Morris that she appears to have outdone herself once again. I am very much looking forward to her plum pudding after we have made some headway through the rest of these dishes. Now, there is no need for you to remain here and serve us when I am sure that you must be quite hungry. Go downstairs and enjoy your Christmas dinner. If there’s any serving to be done here, we’ll leave it to Abbot!”
Abbot smiled broadly. “Thank you, my lord, that is most generous. On behalf of the staff, I thank you for your offer and may I say that we are all very glad to see you so improved.”
“It’s the laudanum, Abbot. Tomorrow I shall return to my usual irritable self.”
“We didn’t expect to have a festive Christmas,” Theodosia said apologetically. “There won’t be any dancing or games or anything that you might have expected.”
“I expected to be laying in my bed, snoring away, so this is quite an improvement. If we wish to be more festive for Twelfth Night, we shall do so. For now, it is enough to celebrate with friends, is it not?”
Theodosia nodded. “It is,” she agreed, her eyes misty with tears of joy. “And with you.”
“And with you,” he echoed.
Tabitha arched her eyebrows as she and Arthur shared a glance. This exchange did not seem to bear out the terms of the five-year arrangement which had been designed to govern the duration of the marriage until it came to its designated end.
“Had we any idea that you would be able to come downstairs,” Tabitha said, “we’d have made more of an effort to be festive. We didn’t even decorate the tree that James chose, because we thought the fuss and noise might disturb you.”
“As to that . . . ” David cleared his throat. “I have been thinking that what’s needed around this house is more noise, not less. More music,” he said. “More . . . it’s the strangest thing, you know, but I wonder what it would sound like if we heard the noise of children about the place.”
Arthur leaned forward.
“David, you haven’t been helping yourself to the laudanum, have you?’
“Not in the least. I’ve been helping myself to some long overdue thinking, that’s all. As you all know, I expected marriage to be something that would fit neatly into the life I was already living and I expected there to be no fundamental changes.
Oh, the renovation of an unused bedroom into a music room, that was the sort of metamorphosis that I was willing to accept. But I thought that I myself would remain unchanged.”
“It’s a common habit of men,” Tabitha said indulgently. “For some reason they go into marriage assuming that they are the masters of matrimony.”
“Only to find out,” Arthur announced, “that nothing could be further from the truth. It’s entirely the wives who rule the roost. We poor menfolk, we’re at their mercy,” He added with a rueful smile.
“Oh, that is not true,” Theodosia protested.
“Wait and see,” Arthur told her. “Once David has fully recovered—the use of his hand as well as his wits—he will be just another husband turned puppy.”
“I don’t want him to be a puppy,” Theodosia said. “I prefer him just as he is. Only with the use of both of his hands.”
She made her remark in all innocence, but the comment set the men roaring with laughter and Tabitha’s lips curved in amusement at the other, lascivious interpretation of her cousin’s statement.
“Let us proceed to eat,” Theodosia said, her cheeks pink, “before the food goes cold. Mrs Morris worked very hard to provide this splendid repast for us and we must be sure to compliment her for her special dishes.”
“Somewhere during this conversation,” David complained, “I seem to have lost control of it.”
“Do you want me to cut up your meat for you?” Theodosia said. “I believe it is very tender, Mrs Morris must have worked her wonders on it, but if you cannot cut it with your fork, I will—”
“I am quite able to cut my food,” he said. “Are you deliberately trying to sabotage my discourse? What an impudent wife you are.”
He was not entirely wrong in his perception. This exuberant David was a new person to her and she was not quite sure what he would say next. She knew that he was not speaking under the effects of the laudanum because his dosages had decreased since the first day of his injury and he was faring well without nearly as much as he had needed in the beginning.
David’s good humour continued throughout the meal. He ate heartily, the result, he said, of far too long with nothing but broth, and then toast, for his diet. If he did not soon regain his weight, his trousers would fall to his ankles. After the plum pudding had been brought to the dining room and sampled, he insisted that Mrs Morris must come upstairs and receive her compliments in person, an occasion which had his cook speechless with disbelief.
When they had finished eating, nothing would do but that the servants, who it turned out had also finished their Christmas lunch, must join them in decorating the tree which James had brought into the drawing-room but which had been left undecorated because, as Tabitha had explained, they feared that the noise would disturb his rest.
For that, David proclaimed, they would all do the decorating and he would tell them what to do. When it was finished, the tree stood before them, majestic in height and gaudy in its trimming, but so beautiful in Theodosia’s eyes that she could barely take her eyes off it.
Then David decided that he wanted to hear music, and they must go upstairs so that Theodosia, despite her protests, could play for them. Arthur provided support for David, who could not hold onto the railing as they were walking up the stairs. Theodosia, anxious for his safety, repeatedly turned around on the staircase to make certain that he had not fallen until he pretended to scold her for being a nagging wife.
In the music room, they all had a surprise, for David had given James a list of presents to buy for the guests and they had been wrapped and brought into the room while everyone was downstairs.
Arthur was pleased when he unwrapped an antique fowling piece to add to his collection of historical weapons. Tabitha’s face lighted up with delight when she opened a small wooden box containing a pair of pearl earrings.
“And for you,” David said as he handed his wife a wrapp
ed item which was no weight at all. “It’s music!” Theodosia predicted. “But David, I have a present for you. I planned to give it to you later today when I returned to your room.”
“And so you may do,” David said. “But for now, open your present.”
She wondered what song he had chosen to purchase for her. Would it be a favourite tune of his or something new that he had never heard before? Whatever it was, she resolved to play it immediately—
Theodosia stared. It was their marriage contract.
“I don’t understand,” she said, puzzled and a bit frightened.
“I have a proposal for you,” he said. “I propose that you and I tear up this contract and proceed with our marriage in the manner in which a husband and wife are intended to do.”
He did not tell her that he had instructed James to rearrange his bedroom so that it accommodated his wife’s belongings as well as his own, or that he intended to spend this night with her at his side while they slept. She would discover that later.
“I propose that we embark on our marriage as if we were two explorers, setting sail on uncharted seas for an unknown destination, a place that we have oft heard of but never visited, a location where we expect to find a bliss we would not otherwise find separately but may encounter together.”
“Do you mean it?”
“Arthur,” Tabitha said. “I think I shall go to my room and try on these earrings. Come with me.”
“You don’t need me to help you---oh, oh, of course, yes, I shall join you, I’m sure.”
David smiled as the door to the music room closed behind Arthur and Tabitha.
“I was beginning to wonder if I was going to actually have to order them to their room,” he said.
“Why? I thought you agreed that it would be helpful to have them here while you recover from your injury,” Theodosia replied confused.
“Come here,” David directed, his voice as smooth as silk.
Theodosia rose from her seat and went over to the sofa and sat at his side. Suddenly self-conscious she stared at her hands, which were still clutching the marriage contract.
David took one side of the document. Following his example, Theodosia took the other.
“If you agree, we shall tear this agreement up and throw it into the fire,” he said. “If you agree, we shall live as husband and wife and we shall have children and raise a family. If you agree, my darling, beloved Theodosia, I shall love you with all my heart, body and soul to the very end of my days.” The silence that followed his declaration was deafening.
David tucked away a strand of her hair behind her ear and whispered, “Do you agree?”
She did not answer with words. She moved closer to him and with her unschooled, untutored lips, convinced him with her kisses that she did indeed agree.
Her hair was dishevelled and her dress slightly rumpled when they parted at the sound of the music room door opening.
“You are just in time for a burning of the agreement,” David told Arthur and Tabitha. He and Theodosia flung their pieces of the document into the flames and watched as the paper turned to ash.
Tabitha began clapping and the applause was taken up by the rest.
“And now,” David said, “in a continuation of the holiday spirit, I suggest that you all look upward at the chandelier which is above our heads. You will behold, thanks to James and his adroit footwork upon a ladder, enough mistletoe handing above to generate sufficient kisses to keep us all merry until next Christmas, but which time I hope that there will be a new addition to the Overton family!”
The End
PREVIEW: FOR THE LOVE OF A SCOUNDREL (6 STORY BOX SET) – THE ARRANGEMENT
PROLOGUE
“I say, old man, how is that daughter of yours?”
Viscount Longford smiled as he thought of his daughter Teresa, the apple of his eyes. Her heart-shaped face, her dark brown curls and her sparkling green eyes that so often reminded him of his late wife.
“She is doing very well, Dunlop, thank you.”
The Earl of Dunlop, Viscount Longford’s long-time acquaintance, rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
“She’ll be coming of age soon enough, won’t she?”
“She ought to be out already,” Lord Longford replied, with a slight grimace. “The truth is, Dunlop, things have been so bad with the estate that I’ve not been able to take her to town for the Season. If her mother had still been alive – God rest her soul – then I would not have to worry about such things but, as it stands, Teresa has had to remain at home. The only reason I have come away from there is to see my solicitor, although I am glad to have the opportunity to see you again. It has been a long time.”
Lord Dunlop chuckled, his eyes still thoughtful.
“I still remember what it was like when we were both young men, out in London looking for our brides. How fortunate we were.”
“Indeed,” Lord Longford murmured, his heart still filled with a love for his dearly departed wife. “I had hoped for a good match for Teresa but since I have been unable to take her to town, I may have to consider other means.”
Lord Dunlop nodded.
“Well, as it happens, I do have a son.”
Lord Longford paused, looking over at his friend who was busy pouring them both another brandy.
“Your son and heir, I presume you mean,” he said, slowly. “I would have thought he might have married now.”
Shaking his head, Lord Dunlop handed Lord Longford his glass of brandy and sat back in his chair.
“Not yet. It appears he is not as enamoured with the London set as he thought he’d be. He shows no interest in any particular lady despite my encouragements to find someone who is a suitable match. I am beginning to wonder if an arrangement might suit him just as well.”
“An arrangement, you say,” Lord Longford murmured, taking a sip of his brandy and letting it spread warmth through his chest.
“Tell me about Teresa,” Lord Dunlop continued, waving a hand. “Does she know how to run a household?”
“Of course,” Lord Longford replied, quickly. “that is what she’s been doing ever since her mother passed away. She is well mannered, genteel, articulate and knows exactly what is expected of her.”
Lord Dunlop smiled in delight. “Wonderful. Hugh is, of course, fully aware of his duties when they should come to him – not that I have any intention of creeping into my grave just yet!”
Lord Longford laughed, feeling much the same sentiment.
“Hugh is a rather sensible fellow, for which I am grateful,” Lord Dunlop continued. “he has no particular vices I am sure, and everyone speaks well of him. If you are amenable, we could make a very good match for them both.”
Lord Longford though quickly, wondering about his daughter and how she would feel about an arranged marriage. To his surprise, the idea took hold quickly, making a sense of satisfaction rise in him. After all, he reasoned, he had not been able to take Teresa to London when she was of age, which meant that soon society might think her on the shelf. He did not want her to live her life alone, aware that he would one day leave this earth and, in doing so, leave her behind.
“I think Teresa would be amenable to the match,” he said, slowly. “What of Hugh, however?
Lord Dunlop shrugged. “He will not take much convincing if any. He is more than ready to settle down and, just so long as his wife is what he requires from such a companion, I am certain he will accept her with gratitude. After all, it takes all the difficulty out of finding a match for themselves!”
“Indeed, it does,” Lord Longford agreed, a smile fastening itself to his face. “I could bring Teresa to London for a few short weeks so that they can become acquainted and then be married by Season’s end.”
Lord Dunlop lifted his glass in a toast.
“Capital!” he exclaimed, a broad smile settling across his face. “Then it is settled. My son shall be betrothed to your daughter and, in so doing, we shall join our two families together. A wonderf
ul idea, if I may say so.”
Lord Longford chuckled, amused that his friend was congratulating himself on his own wisdom.
“A very good idea, Dunlop.” He raised his glass and tapped it against Lord Dunlop’s, feeling a deep sense of happiness begin to settle in him. “To our families uniting,” he finished, before taking a long sip of his brandy. “My goodness, I can hardly wait to get home to tell Teresa.”
Not once did he worry that his daughter might be distressed at being married off to a stranger, after all, she was a most dutiful daughter.
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