The year after that event, his father pushed into marriage, determined that Roderick produce an heir. Then after the end of that disastrous marriage to Abigail, he refused to make the same mistake with any other woman, regardless of how much his father badgered him. It was as though producing an heir for the estate was more important to his father, than Roderick’s own happiness! Roderick held fast to his resolve but now his father, in death, had gotten his revenge!
A light tap on the door interrupted his thoughts. Before he had a chance to respond, the door opened and a young woman, in a servant’s uniform, strode forth into the room.
“What is it Della?” he almost snapped.
“I just thought you would like some wine.”
She thrust a small tray under his nose with a bottle and glass on it.
“Thank you, Della, but not now. Too many worries to sort out, at the moment, you know.”
He motioned her away with his hand but she stood her ground.
“You shouldn’t put yourself in such a stew,” she insisted, placing the tray on his father’s desk.
She gave a little pout and put her arms around his neck, which would be considered improper if anyone else had witnessed it. Patiently, he removed them but with a firmness that told Della his feelings all too clearly.
“I don’t see why you’re so upset,” she continued to pout in sulky tones. “I never heard you say one good thing about your father, all the time I’ve known you. Now that he’s dead, you should feel lucky since you will inherit his wealth and estate.”
“Not as easily as you think,” he mumbled.
It was true that after his father forced him into marrying Abigail, he had grown to almost hate the man. He blamed his father for a marriage that turned out so tragically, it had practically ruined his life, not to mention his trust in women. Now he had reason to continue to hate his father.
He glanced at Della and shook his head, wearily.
“Little you know the fix my father has put me in, my dear!”
Thinking of it, he threw back his head and gave an angry laugh, then suddenly sobered.
“I’ve known for a long time the provisions of my father’s will. How could I not know it when he kept at me like he did? He reminded me every day what was going to happen when he died if I did not marry again and bring forth a precious heir! Now the provisions of his will are going to force my hand! You may not know it, little miss, but my father, in a fit of anger, informed me long ago what he would do. He told me that unless I am married within six months of his death and, if you can believe it, produced an heir within two years of my marriage, he would leave everything to my cousin Willard, under the same conditions, of course. I thought it preposterous at the time, and didn’t believe he would go through with it.”
Roderick began pacing again.
“It was no bluff. If neither of us complies, the Estate will be given to charity, except for the house, which I will receive, with just enough money to keep it maintained. I will be destitute! How could my father do this to me?”
“He told you this?” Della asked with a gleam in her eye.
“He wanted the estate to be handed down through his personal family line. Even if it was Willard who married to carry on the name, it didn’t make a difference. Although my father was the oldest son and his line of offspring should have the estate and title, he would gladly hand it all over to Willard, the cad, if I didn’t comply with his wishes.
“After Willard’s sly interference in my last marriage, I’ll be damned if I let him inherit! I believe Willard knew the requirements of my father’s will and was set on finding a way to prevent me from fulfilling them, not to mention destroying my marriage.”
“Why didn’t you remarry then?” Della asked although she was glad he hadn’t married again.
Ever since his disastrous marriage, she had become his partner in bed and she liked the situation. She hoped against hope that Roderick would fall in love with her and ask her to marry him, despite the fact she was a mere servant. That had not happened yet and knowing her station in life, gave her little hope it ever would.
“I think I put it off this long simply because I did not want to satisfy my father’s attempt at twisting my life any more than he already had with Abigail. Besides, who would marry me after that disaster? There are still people who believe I murdered my wife!”
“Everyone knows you did not murder your wife,” Della soothed. “You didn’t murder her did you?”
Roderick gave her a glare.
“Even you have your doubts!”
Roderick shrugged. He didn’t care what Della thought. She was his servant and could believe what she pleased, as long as she performed her duties correctly.
“It appears, that regardless of my questionable character, I am going to have to find someone who will marry me, or I am doomed!”
“I don’t see a problem with that. I would gladly marry you, Roderick,” Della offered, unabashed.
He chuckled.
“Yes, I am aware of that, but you are my mistress, of sorts, you cannot become my wife.”
He patted her cheek and gave her a placating smile.
“As much as I like you in my bed, a bastard cannot inherit, and I cannot marry a housemaid. Father knew about us and the will stipulates that I have to marry a woman of my own social status. A woman with breeding, and all that proper stuff.”
Roderick wrinkled his nose in disgust.
“You know the qualifications I must look for in a wife and I would do just about anything before I let Windridge Hall fall into Willard’s greedy hands. He has coveted my position since the day he came to live with us. He purposely interfered with my marriage, to assure it did not last, not that his meddling would have changed Abigail’s course. Only I’m sure he helped and encouraged her.”
Della frowned and took the wine bottle pouring a drink for herself.
“Don’t look so upset, Dell. I don’t intend to put you out. I just have to have a legal wife to secure my inheritance. I’ll be damned if I will trust another woman with my heart, though. Two rejections in a man’s life are enough, so whoever I find, it will be more of a business arrangement than anything else. I only hope I can find someone who does not know about my past and what some choose to accuse me of.”
He eyed Della and then continued.
“Remember your place, Dell. I don’t want you becoming all high-hat and think you will come before my wife. After all, I will have to keep her contented until she presents me with an heir, after that, I could care less what happens to our marriage.”
How had he become so hard hearted, he wondered? The thought of those green eyes of Miss Emily Thornton and the indifferent hazel ones of Abigail, reminded him all too well why he could never trust a woman with his heart.
His thoughts went a little sadly to Della. She was more of a sexual need who was familiar, rather than someone he could ever get emotional about. She had helped him get through the death of his wife and all the sorted details surrounding it when others turned away from him. Yet that still did not allow him to think of her as anything more than a warm body in his bed, no matter how adoringly she looked at him. After all, she was a housemaid and men had affairs with their maids all the time. That adoring look she gave him could easily be the hope of sharing his title and estate, for all he knew.
He pushed his fingers through his tousled hair and swore under his breath.
“Damn, I need to go to the funeral and then brace myself for the reading of the will, although I know damn well what is in it. You can be sure Willard will be there to see what part he plays in my father’s will. He had been trying to get on the better side of my father from the day we took him into our house. Kicking him out, after Abigail died, was the best thing I ever did. He’d be delighted if I didn’t show up and even more delighted if I never married again. It seems that is something I am going to have to remedy.”
Della shrugged indifferently. She had been put in her place, and even
if she continued to share Roderick’s bed, that was the only part of him she would ever have. She meekly left the room, while Roderick headed for the front door, taking his hat from the butler, as he left to climb into his carriage. He waved his driver aside and took over the reins. He had to feel like he was in charge of something in his life, he smiled to himself, as he snapped the reins, causing the carriage to lurch when the horses jumped forward.
It was quite by accident that Roderick found himself thrown into the path of Emily Thornton again and his mood brightened because he realized that his luck was changing. If he played his cards right, he would not only be able to secure himself a wife, he would also get revenge on the woman who had broken the tender heart of his youth. Her rejecting him at her birthday party still felt fresh to him. Roderick hoped she did not remember him, but even if she did, he would think of how to persuade her to marry him, one way or another.
It had been shortly after the reading of the will, that Roderick discovered Emily’s father had died as well, leaving her destitute. Whatever happened to the wealth of a man who paid so much for the black mare to give to his daughter on her 16th birthday, he wondered? Well, it didn’t matter. It put her in a perfect position to accept his proposal.
If he couldn’t get her to fall in love with him, at least he would persuade her to marry him. Then later, after she had produced an heir, he would reject her in the same way she had rejected him, letting her suffer the pain he felt all those years ago. He would send her to their summer house and let her live a lonely life, raising his heir until the child was sent away to school. The wicked thought satisfied him, and he wondered if he was becoming more like his father? It felt like he would be getting back at his father and the uppity Miss Emily at the same time. He would be happy not to be saddled with the company of a wife, while still receiving his inheritance. He almost couldn’t wait to see the pain in her eyes, he thought cunningly.
Emily knelt down and arranged a small handful of flowers on her father’s grave. It had been a month since he had died and in that time she had been busy settling her father’s affairs. She had never known her mother since she died at Emily’s birth. Her father was all she had in the world and now she was destitute. She did not realize how overdrawn her father’s finances were. He always gave her anything she ever wanted but it turned out to be a deception. He had borrowed and mortgaged and sold his belongings until there was nothing left of the estate she thought she would inherit someday. What was left had to be used to pay off all the creditors, leaving nothing of value to support Emily. Not even the house remained since the bank was reclaiming it. It was believed that her father accidentally drowned in the ocean, after falling from a bluff overlooking the sea. She feared that he had jumped on purpose to avoid facing her and admitting to her that there was no more money.
There was a time when Emily had men, vying for her hand. Now, even Lilith’s brother, who genuinely liked her, would not offer for her since she did not have a penny to her name. Most marriageable young women had a substantial dowry to offer the groom. He certainly did not love her. She knew he was merely fond of her but apparently not fond enough to save her from joining the working class. How her life had changed, she thought, as a tear escaped her green eye. She had enjoyed many friends and now discovered that those so called friends deserted her, once her position and wealth changed. Only Lilith remained her friend but Lilith could not help her out of her dilemma.
Emily smiled sadly as she recalled how her father had generously left her everything in his will. However, everything he had left her had been used to pay off all his debts, to clear his good name. Now her only hope to was to become a tutor or governess for some spoiled child in a wealthy household. She gave a bleak laugh, realizing she had once been a wealthy, spoiled child.
Her mind roamed back to the happy times she had known. The lovely house she lived in all her life. The horse her father got her for her 16th birthday. The picnics she and her father had shared together. All the other outings to museums, art galleries and the trips abroad they took. Her life had been so easy then, with nothing to disturb her tranquility. Now, what did she have to look forward to?
Emily looked down at the little Maltese dog resting at her feet and wagging its tail as its large brown eyes stared up at her. He too would have to go, she thought, trying to control her tears. This saddened her greatly because she felt she could never part with the beloved little dog. Only no one would hire her if she was encumbered with a dog.
She would have to adjust herself to her new circumstances and forget about her own feelings, she told herself sharply. Thinking of leaving Muffin behind, made tears come to her eyes once again. The dog had been with her for so many years and was such a comfort to her. What could take his place? She didn’t know how she would be able to part with him? It would be like losing her father all over again. Emily scooped the cuddly creature up in her arms and fondled it to her cheek. She would have to ask Lilith if she could take care of Muffin.
“Oh how shall I endure it?” she asked the bewildered dog as if he could answer her question and resolve all her problems.
Roderick stood at a distance, near his own father’s grave, watching the beautiful woman who had attracted him so strongly those many years ago. She was still as dazzling now as she was then, even though she was not dressed for a party. He wanted to feel sorry for her plight. It was her plight, however, which would allow her to fall into his trap. He had to remind himself why he was about to pull this unsuspecting woman into his life.
It angered him that his father had put him in this position. At the same time, he was excited at the prospect of finally getting back at the person who wounded his ego. At such a young and impressionable age, she had caused him to lose faith in trusting women.
Despite his handsome looks and his masculine body, his dashing clothes, along with his devil-may-care attitude, he was sure the only attraction that drew women to him was his money. Had it not been for his disastrous marriage and how it ended, he could have plucked any woman from society to become his wife and she would eagerly jump at the chance to marry him. Now they looked at him askance, with worry on their faces. They acted as though they were sure they would be the next victim he would do away with. He idly wondered how much Emily knew about him or if she remembered him from her 16th birthday? Well, he thought, there was only one-way to discover it. He slowly approached her.
Emily had not noticed the tall dark figure standing behind her. She was too warped up in her own problems to notice much of anything going on around her.
“I am truly sorry for your loss,” she heard a strong voice say. “I understand how you feel because I too have just lost my father.”
Of course, Roderick could not understand how she felt, simply because he had not been close to his father in the same way she had been but he knew what women liked to hear.
Emily lifted her head from Muffin’s fur, where she had been weeping, and blinked at the man that towered over her.
“I…I beg your pardon?” she asked not quite sure what to make of the man who appeared, it seemed out of nowhere.
He motioned towards the grave marker she was kneeling at. ‘Beloved Father’ had been tooled above the name of Campbell Thornton.
“I assume he was your father,” Roderick stated the obvious.
Emily nodded.
“I was at my own father’s graveside,” he went on to explain, “when I saw you here and thought I might find some words to console you.”
“You are very kind, considering you probably need consoling yourself. Surely, I don’t know you. Did you know my father?”
“Actually, I did, but not personally. I only had one encounter with him and that was several years ago.”
“Then you must have known what a generous man he was. He would help a total stranger if he knew they were in need.”
“Yes. I believe he treated me kindly at the time.”
Inside he thought, so unlike his daughter did!
&
nbsp; “I would like to believe that I am as thoughtful and as generous as your father,” he added.
“Then you must be a kind person,” she offered.
“I would like to think so,” he lied because when it came to this pretty miss, his kindness would only be the ploy that gained her trust, he thought indifferently. “I know I can do nothing about the loss of your father but I was hoping there was something I could do to help relieve your pain.”
“It is not only the death of my father but my circumstances that sadden me,” she admitted.
“I know I am a stranger to you. I have not even introduced myself.”
He offered her his hand and helped her up. She left the dog at her feet.
“I am Lord Roderick Allen Winlock, at your service, miss.”
Emily looked up into his dark eyes with her misty green ones as her tears started to dry. There was something familiar about the man but she could not put her finger on it.
“I am Emily Ann Thornton.”
She gave a small curtsy.
“Perhaps I could be of some assistance to you, Miss Thornton,” Roderick offered.
“I don’t see how. My circumstances are not of your doing or concern.”
“Perhaps not but I hate to see anyone, especially such a beautiful young lady as yourself, so distressed. I suppose I should admit that I read of the passing of your father in the papers and realize that he has left you destitute with no one to relieve you of your dire situation.”
Emily lowered her eyes. Her embarrassment for herself and her father brought color to her cheeks and she felt ashamed that a stranger must point this out. All the world knew of her situation and her friends were not even there to soften the blow.
Roderick felt unexpectedly touched by her embarrassment and reached out with his gloved hand, lifting her chin.
“It is not of your doing,” he assured her. “This kind of predicament happens to people all the time. It occurred to me, there is something I can do to lift your burden.”
A Bride For Windridge Hall Page 2