The Substitute Bride: A historical romance with a spirited Regency heroine

by Dorothy Mack

  He studied her thoughtfully and agreed to see her at ten o’clock in the library.

  She resumed a pretence of eating with the sinking feeling of one who has burned her bridges behind her. At that moment, Chilham appeared with an envelope on a silver tray which he presented to the viscount, whose eyes narrowed at the sight of the handwriting. He waved Chilham away and opened it with a murmured excuse. Lydia was chattering of a forthcoming shopping spree, but Angelica was only half listening; her attention, though covert, was upon her employer. He read the missive, his face intent and, Angelica thought, slightly anxious. She saw his knuckles whiten as the grip of his fingers on the single sheet of paper tightened convulsively. His eyes surprised her questioning glance, and she wondered at his fleeting expression of relief. Immediately, however, a curtain descended and his face betrayed no emotion at all as he took his leave of the two girls, reminding Angelica that he would see her at ten o’clock.

  As the time of the interview crawled slowly forward, Angelica was seized by an agony of nerves. Without conceit, she was aware that the viscount would be reluctant to see her leave for Jenny’s sake. She feared herself a poor match for his tongue on any occasion and felt instinctively that her only hope lay in maintaining a calm, detached manner. Only quiet insistence would win her a dignified escape, and she was not convinced of her ability to maintain this attitude, knowing the shattering effect her employer had on her emotions. But she must escape, she must! To stay was unthinkable. It would be constant torture to see him daily with Lady Barbara beside him. It was with the courage of desperation that she rapped smartly on the library door. On being bidden to enter, she opened and closed the door quietly, approaching, with chin up and eyes steady, the desk where he stood.

  The viscount smiled at her in the companionable way she had enjoyed briefly. “Sit here, Miss Wayne. I have something to discuss with you also, but ladies first, of course. What may I do for you?”

  The smile almost unnerved her, but she plunged into her request and, for a time, managed a creditable calm despite the effect of his expression, which changed rapidly from courteous attention to incredulity to black anger as she finished.

  ‘Tin sorry, my lord,” she faltered finally. “Indeed, you have cause to be angry with me for inconveniencing your household at such a busy time, but my cousin needs me.” Her eyes pleaded with him, but he rose abruptly from his chair and began pacing the floor, his brow thunderous, never taking his accusing eyes from her pale face.

  “He needs you? I need you!” he snapped coldly. “What about Jenny? The child adores you. How can you leave her so abruptly? I thought better of you than this, Miss Wayne.”

  She lowered her head to hide the pain his words gave her. Because he had every reason to feel incensed, she could not resent his anger. Forcing a calm attitude she said quietly, “I am deeply sorry to leave Jenny, my lord. She is … is fond of me I know, but the relationship between the two of you has improved so greatly of late that she will not miss me for long. After all, she is to acquire a new mother also, and I feel sure Lady Barbara —”

  “No!” It was a short, cold syllable interrupting her.

  She blinked. “I beg your pardon, my lord?”

  He said very deliberately, “Jenny is not about to acquire a new mother. Barbara was married this morning to Sir Anthony Haring. The letter I received at breakfast bore the glad tidings.”

  For an instant Angelica was stunned. Then fierce anger for his humiliation chased red flags into her cheeks, and she also sprang up from her chair. “Oh, how could she? Are you sure, my lord? Perhaps there is still time to prevent this.” She wrung her hands in agitation, her horrified eyes on his face.

  “Yes, I am sure,” he answered curtly. “In any case, I have no wish to prevent the marriage; I want no unwilling bride. Here, read this.” He took a paper from his desk top and thrust it into her reluctant hands. She looked at him doubtfully.

  “Go ahead, read it,” he said with an impatient gesture.

  She stared at him for another second, sensing his controlled excitement, then lowered her eyes to peruse the short note in her hands.

  My Dear Giles,

  I am sorry but I cannot marry you. Our engagement was a mistake. I have realized for some time that your feelings for me have not been of such a nature as to ensure a successful marriage. Sir Anthony Haring loves me and by the time you read this I shall be his wife. Please forgive me and wish me well as I wish you.

  Barbara

  The silence was absolute as Angelica finished reading and looked up. The viscount was staring into the fire and did not move until she cleared her throat hesitantly.

  “I am sorry, my lord. I was afraid that Sir Anthony was head over ears in love with Lady Barbara.” She could not prevent the question going round in her head. “Is it true that you do not love her?” She caught her breath at her temerity, then blurted out, “Forgive me, I had no right to ask such a question.”

  “I shall answer you just the same. Yes, it is true.” His intent gaze stabbed her, holding her own for what seemed an eternity.

  Angelica, hoping her sudden happiness was not revealed in her face, hurried on. “Of course, under the circumstances I will stay on for a while. Will Lydia’s ball be cancelled?”

  “Certainly not.”

  “Very well. I shall be glad to lend what assistance I may. Can I be of service in cancelling the wedding invitations and returning any gifts which have been sent here?”

  “No, why return them? It seems a shame to cheat people out of a wedding.”

  Angelica stared at him, wondering if the shock had unhinged his reason temporarily. “My lord,” she said gently, “the arrangements must be cancelled as soon as possible to save even more embarrassment.”

  Suddenly he seized her hands and drew her closer. His eyes were the black of obsidian as they searched hers. “Why cancel them at all? My reasons for marrying remain the same. Jenny needs a mother and Lydia needs a sponsor for her come-out. Both of them hold you in great affection. Would you do me the honour of becoming my wife?”

  Angelica’s heart gave a terrified lurch and began hammering in her throat. She was afraid he would feel the trembling of her body in the hands he held in such a brutal grip, but her instinctive efforts to remove them resulted in an even more painful grasp.

  “No, of course not!” she gasped, all colour gone from her face. “Would you go from one proposed marriage of convenience to another on the instant? The shock has affected your wits, my lord. Do not persist in saying things you will regret. We do not even belong to the same world; we should not suit.”

  He frowned impatiently, quelling any further, protest on her part. “I have never been more clearheaded in my life, and I should never regret asking you to marry me. As far as your not belonging to my world, I never heard such fustian. You, with your well-bred manners have more right to be called a lady than Barbara for all her airs and undeniable beauty. You are perfectly at ease in society, and I’ll hear no more nonsensical talk of this nature.” Suddenly he grinned boyishly, and she felt a relaxation in the painful grip on her fingers. “I had no idea you could be so missish,” he taunted with a glint in his eyes.

  The smile she loved almost undid her fragile composure, but his teasing words stiffened her resolve. “I am not in the least bit missish,” she retorted, indignantly aware of another mischievous smile. His change of mood from barely controlled rage at her announced intention of leaving to this present buoyancy utterly confounded her. She strove valiantly for cool composure.

  “Be sensible, my lord. It is my opinion that you have had a fortunate escape. Enjoy your freedom. You do not have to marry to obtain a friend for Lydia and a teacher for Jenny. Wait. Someday you will meet a woman you can love wholeheartedly.”

  “I have —” he started furiously, then proceeded more quietly, “absolutely no expectation of such an impossible event.”

  The words stung her, and she stood very still with her face averted. They seemed the
death knell to her fragile hopes that someday he might come to regard her in such a light. In her misery she missed his next remark, but her attention was caught by the words that followed.

  “You do not have to decide this minute. Take time to think it over. I realize this has come as a shock to you, Angelica, but let me repeat your own advice — be sensible. I can offer you wealth and position and provide the background your loveliness demands.”

  She warmed with pleasure at his use of her name and the graceful compliment. She glanced up at him uncertainly, but his next words froze her completely.

  “You will not find me a demanding husband. You will be free to live your own life. All I ask is that you conduct yourself with discretion and do nothing to harm my name.”

  “So,” she said with the calmness of despair, but with an undertone of bitterness edging her quiet words, “as well as a marriage of convenience this would also be a marriage in name only, with each of us free to conduct discreet liaisons. How generous of you to accord to your wife that privilege most men keep to themselves.”

  “Stop that!” Now he was angrier than she had ever seen him. He dropped her hands and grabbed her shoulders. “You make it seem disgusting. It is, after all, the way of our world to a large extent. Do you wish it otherwise?”

  She could not fathom the expression in the dark eyes and dropped her own hastily. She felt hot tears crowding behind her lashes and knew she must escape before disgracing herself. Her voice was shrill. “Of course not; I don’t wish it any way. I repeat: I cannot marry you, my lord.” She began to struggle in his grasp. For an instant, he held her tighter and actually pulled her up against his lean, hard body, then he released her so abruptly she nearly lost her balance.

  “I won’t accept that as final. Come to me here tomorrow with your reasoned decision, and I make you my word I shall abide by it.”

  She opened her lips to protest, but he turned his back on her. The tears crowded closer; she spun about on one foot and fled through the door and up the stairs, blinded by now fast-falling tears. In her room she threw herself on the bed and weakly gave way to the storm raging within her.

  Later, sitting up on the bed, she briskly rubbed her palms across the still wet cheeks, more than a little astounded at her own weakness. Even during this last week with the dreaded event of Giles’s marriage hanging over her, she had not given way to such a passion of weeping as had just overcome her. In a sense, moreover, the reason for tears no longer existed. Not only was there to be no marriage to Lady Barbara, but Giles had asked her to marry him. Certainly she could ask no more of life than to become the wife of the man she loved, so why had she instinctively recoiled and refused his offer so bluntly? Why had she not seized the opportunity to marry him? The bitter answer came from her heart. It would be an empty farce. He had decided to marry for reasons wholly unrelated to the state of his affections, and there could be no happiness for her in such an arrangement. He had said he wanted no unwilling bride. Her sensitive lips curved in an uncharacteristic sneer. Well, she wanted no unloving husband. Married to him, she would be in constant trepidation lest she betray her longing for his affection. Her fair skin burned at the thought of having her love coldly rejected. But it would be infinitely worse if he pitied her and pretended.

  She leaped off the bed and began pacing furiously. With icy certainty she knew she would be unable to bear his pity. Something inside her would shrivel up and die. So her tears were for what might have been and for the unhappiness of a future without him. She could not stay now. Not even for the sake of his daughter would a proud man like the viscount wish to keep around as a constant source of annoyance a woman who had refused to marry him. She would stay until Lydia was fully launched then seek employment elsewhere.

  Wearily, she began to repair the ravages her emotional lapse had wrought in complexion and hairstyle. When Lydia knocked to ask if she would be free to go shopping after lunch, she agreed with composure and hastened up the stairs to apologize to Jenny for not appearing earlier for lessons. She found her young charge engaged in sketching a bowl of fruit which she had undoubtedly wheedled from Cook. Looking at it critically, she realized once again that the little girl possessed talent. She must speak to Giles about a drawing master for her before she left. She sighed impatiently and decided to refuse admittance to any thoughts of the future. One day at a time would be her creed for the rest of her stay under this roof.

  Hours later, on returning to the house after a lengthy shopping expedition with Lydia, Angelica was surprised to receive a royal command in the guise of a politely worded invitation to take tea with Lady Orbridge in her rooms. A moment’s reflection convinced her that undoubtedly Aunt Minerva wished to enlist her aid in cancelling wedding plans. During their outing together, she had realized that Lydia did not yet know of Lady Barbara’s marriage, but had not thought it her task to inform her.

  After greeting Angelica affectionately, Lady Orbridge lapsed into silence until Maggie had laid the huge silver tray upon a fragile-looking table and fussed about the fire which seemed perfectly adequate to Angelica.

  “Never mind that, woman. Go on, we shan’t need you any longer,” said Lady Orbridge impatiently.

  Angelica glanced at her hostess from under her lashes as she prepared her tea, for the old woman’s swollen knuckles rendered such small actions painful. She smiled in sympathy, recognizing the suppressed excitement her ladyship was imperfectly concealing. Barbara had been no favourite of hers. Even in the face of the scandalous talk which was no doubt already circulating among members of the ton, she must be relieved to see her beloved great-nephew out of a bad bargain. She sat patiently, preparing herself for a pungent description of Lady Barbara’s character. Her ladyship’s first words, however, rocked her off her heels figuratively speaking and left her gasping with embarrassment.

  “My nephew gives me to understand that he has made you an offer and that you have refused him. Will you object to enumerating your reasons for my benefit?”

  Angelica’s colour fluctuated deliciously and her slight figure stiffened. “I … I hardly know what to say, ma’am. I’m taken aback to find Lord Desmond has confided such a private matter to anyone, even you.” She paused and seemed unable to resume. After a moment Lady Orbridge said bluntly:

  “I would rather not engage in roundaboutation. Tell me directly, is Desmond personally repugnant to you?”

  Angelica’s colour deepened. “Of course not, ma’am,” she blurted hastily.

  “Then how can you be so foolish as to whistle such a catch down the wind? A young woman in your position can scarcely hope to make a more advantageous match.”

  A flash of anger lit Angelica’s green eyes at these caustic words, and she lowered her head to conceal it. Her voice was expressionless as she answered, “I quite realize this, ma’am.”

  “Is there anyone else for whom you have a tendre?”

  “Oh, no.”

  “Then why have you refused Desmond? I thought you have been happy here. I know Lydia and Jenny hold you in affection, and I would be perfectly satisfied with the match.”

  “Why, ma’am?” inquired Angelica with an arrested look in her eyes. “One would have to go a long way to find a more unequal match in the eyes of the world.”

  “I have lived too long to care a ha’penny for the world’s opinion. I approve because I think you would make Desmond an unexceptionable wife. You are a lady to your fingertips and you have a kind heart. You would not let him down.”

  “But Lord Desmond does not really want a wife, be she ever so unexceptionable. He has rather a contempt for our sex. I do not think I could live with such coldness, no matter what the material advantages.”

  “I have said nothing of material advantages,” retorted Lady Orbridge with a touch of hauteur.

  “I beg your pardon, ma’am, but Lord Desmond did stress the advantages of wealth and position which would accrue to me from such a marriage.”

  Lady Orbridge eyed her shrewdly. “An
d these made no appeal to you?”

  Angelica made a hopeless little gesture with her hands but said nothing.

  “Many a successful marriage started off with no more than mutual respect and liking. And many a so-called love match has floundered under the unromantic stresses of daily living.”

  As Angelica still made no response, she abandoned generalities. “Are you in love with my nephew?”

  Knowing it was useless to lie with those shrewd black eyes intimidating her, Angelica answered truthfully in a voice that barely reached across the small table dividing them.

  “Yes, but he does not love me.” There was a sad finality in her tone.

  “Good grief, girl, have you no backbone? Is it not worth the gamble that in time his affections will animate toward you? I know he is disposed to like you very well indeed. I have watched you together, and you can make him laugh like he has not done in years. All men are flattered to know a lovely woman has a tendre for them.”

  “Ma’am, you wouldn’t! He must not know! I could not bear it if he pitied me. Please, you must promise me not to disclose this to him. I could not bear it,” she repeated in agonized tones, extending one hand in a supplicating gesture.

  Lady Orbridge was not proof against such appeal.

  “There, there,” she said briskly, patting the young girl’s hand. “Of course I won’t meddle. Though it’s all pride, you know, and when you get to my age you will realize that there is no room for pride in love.” Her expression became abstracted. “I could cite you dozens, nay scores of instances where people let themselves be ruled by their pride instead of by their heart and thereby lost the affection of someone dear to them.” She sighed. “But there, if there is one thing I have learned it is that the young refuse to profit by the experience of those who have lived longer.”