Marjorie Farrell (9 page)

“But none for me.”

Gareth thought there may be a glimpse of hope if Arden even cared to ask that question. “We agree that there is a certain attraction between us. Affection may follow.”

“I do not agree that there is anything between us at all.”

“I need a wife, Arden, and you need a husband. My family background is as good as yours, although my father was a younger son. Come, my dear, this is not so different than most betrothals, after all.”

“Most brides are not ordered to the altar.”

“Some are,” answered Gareth. “And some accept before they are ordered, which is the same thing. I think we could make something of this marriage. I for one want to try,” said Gareth earnestly.

“You, for one, are a fool. And I will be the wife of a fool,” said Arden bitterly. And she turned and was out the door before Gareth could open his mouth or put out his hand to stop her.

Arden’s rage was such that she could understand where theatrical gestures, like tearing one’s hair out, came from. And yet, as furious as she was, she was also helpless. The earl could order her life in any way he wished, and she could do nothing about it. She had no money but what came from him, and nowhere to go that was her own. Her first thought was to run away, but where could she run? For a few mad moments, she imagined herself at one of her crony’s doors, begging him to hide her. She would cut off her hair and pass for a young man and borrow a uniform and leave for The Peninsula, and if she were lucky, die in her first battle, preferably in the arms of her repentant father. And pigs will fly, she thought. No friend would ruin his career for her. Or let her ruin herself. She had no real friends to turn to. It was Aunt Millicent or Captain Richmond. She wanted to rake her nails down his face, hold his head back by his curly hair and press a knife into his throat so he knew what it was like to be in someone else’s power. Arden half-laughed, half-sobbed at her own violent anger. She had never really been angry before, she realized. Her passion surprised her. But that is what Captain Richmond did to her. And he was to blame completely for this absurd situation. If he had not made her an offer, she was sure that she could have managed her father and brought him round to letting her stay at Stalbridge.

A parlormaid scurrying past her and the sound of her father’s voice from the morning room brought her back to her surroundings. That ruffian was still in the library and likely to come upon her in this state. And there was her family, happily planning two weddings, no doubt. And here she was, trapped between Scylla and Charybdis. She took a deep breath to calm herself and decided that the only way to claim a victory out of this defeat was to be Lady Arden at her most standoffish. She would not let anyone, especially her husband-to-be, have the satisfaction of seeing her rage and frustration. He thought there was some feeling between them, did he? Well, she would not react to him at all. And she would let him know that it would be a marriage in name only. He might take her to wife by law, but he could never claim her body or spirit.

So determined, she stretched her spine and neck so that she felt even taller than usual, and entered the morning room.

Celia, the only one ignorant of the details, rushed over to Arden to give her a congratulatory hug. Her cousin’s affection nearly undid her resolve. Here was the only real friendship she had ever received and she was to be deprived of it. She was ready to cry, to beg her father’s mercy, when she realized that she was losing Celia anyway.

Mrs. Denbeigh approached Arden with more reserve. She did not say, like Celia, “I wish you happy,” but “I hope you will be happy, Arden,” and it was clear, from the concern in her eyes, that her aunt knew something, if not all, of what had gone on. For one moment she wished Ellen were more like Millicent. Mrs. Denbeigh may have real worries about her niece’s happiness but she had no strength to back up her caring. A touch of stubbornness would help me more, thought Arden. But there would be no help from Aunt Ellen, whose strength lay in her weakness.

So Arden did not give in to her moment of vulnerability, but coolly accepted the congratulations.

“When will you get married?” asked Celia. “Do you suppose we could have a double ceremony? But perhaps you will need more time to prepare?”

“We will be married within the week,” announced Gareth from the doorway. He had spent a few minutes in the library, cursing himself for his obviously mad proposal. How had he ever thought that their physical attraction to one another could be a basis for a working partnership? Arden despised him, that was clear. And while he did not despise her, he certainly despaired of finding any way to reach her. He had seen her going back down the hall to the morning room, however, and decided he had better follow. Who knew what she would say to her aunt and cousin?

He watched her accept their good wishes, and answered Celia’s question himself, for obviously the earl and Arden were at a loss for a reply.

Gareth moved to Arden’s side. “We did not have a chance to discuss details, did we, my dear?”

Celia protested. “But the banns? The license? Surely Arden needs more time to shop for her brides clothes?”

The earl finally stepped into the breach. “Captain Richmond has just lost a relative and does not want a public ceremony while he is in mourning. And since his family is in Wales and unable to come to London, we decided that a small, private ceremony would be best.”

Arden felt her anger return at one more example of her father’s apparent indifference to her wishes and Gareth’s highhandedness. She had hoped for some weeks of showing her coldness to him at every ball and musicale, so that he would feel humiliated and not honored when she finally gave him her hand. Yet perhaps this was best after all.

“Yes, Aunt Ellen,” she said coolly, “we decided since Father has already given me away, as it were, he will have a chance to do it formally before he returns to Portugal.”

Ellen looked a bit concerned at Arden’s enigmatic statement, but Celia only sympathized with her cousin and added that she understood perfectly the reasons for a quick and private wedding, since she and Heronwood were so eager that they had teased each other about an elopement! She then turned to Gareth and offered her condolences for his loss.

“Thank you, Miss Denbeigh,” said Gareth. “My uncle had been ill for a while, so it did not come as shock to lose him, but I will feel his absence very keenly. I am sorry that none of my family can be present at the wedding. My aunt sends her regrets, but knows that you will understand.”

“Of course,” said Mrs. Denbeigh sympathetically. “There is just so little time to help Arden prepare. And to think of you leaving so soon and going so far away.”

“Perhaps you might be persuaded to visit us in the spring, ma’am?” said Gareth. “Yorkshire is not so far away as all that, you know.”

Ellen smiled. “Of course not. It is just that things are changing so fast, with Celia betrothed and now Arden almost married, I hardly know where I am. Enough of me, however. Captain Richmond, I am sure that you will want a few minutes alone with Arden before you leave. Come Celia, James.” Mrs. Denbeigh leaned up to press her cheek against Gareth’s and say “Welcome to the family,” and then left, with Celia right behind her.

“I will follow directly, Ellen,” said the earl. “Now, Gareth, you will need a special license. I will do what I can to expedite that.”

“Thank you, my lord.”

“And I know the vicar of Saint Swithin’s. I am sure he would be happy to perform the ceremony.”

“Perhaps Lady Arden has a preference?” suggested Gareth.

“None at all, Captain. Anything you two arrange will suit me. You are both very good at arrangements,” she added sarcastically.

“Arden, surely you can see I am doing what I think is best for you?” said her father. “I cannot return to this campaign and leave you unsettled.” He wanted to add that he also did not want to return without some sign of affection from her, but knew that it would be some time before she forgave him.

“Yes, Father, I can see that. And now I must excuse myself. I have much to do in readying my wardrobe. I have very little, after all, that would be appropriate for a sheep farm.”

The week before the wedding flew by for both Gareth and Arden. She was kept busy shopping with Celia. She found it possible to summon some interest in choosing silks and muslins for her cousin, but not in her own wardrobe. She let her aunt do the choosing and tried to act as though she were not indifferent. Outfitting Celia for her new life was much easier, for Mrs. Denbeigh found it difficult to imagine what an appropriate wardrobe for the wilds of Yorkshire would be. Surely there would be assemblies in the nearest town, so Arden would need some evening dresses. Yet it was also bound to be colder in the fall and the spring, so kerseymere and light wools were also on her list. She was thrilled to find a heavy cloak of Prussian blue, which brought out the blue of Arden’s eyes. It could be worn over a pelisse if she needed the extra warmth. Stout shoes were also a priority, “For surely you will do some walking across the moors, my dear,” said Ellen.

Arden acquiesced in everything, repressing the shudder that went through her when she contemplated the isolation and the extremes of weather that were rumored to characterize Yorkshire. Although she was not one who enjoyed crowds of people around her, she knew she would miss the comfortable neighborliness of Sussex. Although her only intimate ties were with her cousin and aunt, she had a friendly interest in her neighbors and tenants, and had their respect in return, if not their love.

Gareth spent his week with his uncle’s man of business, who introduced him to estate affairs and informed him of the retirement of the present manager. The search for a new overseer, therefore, consumed hours of his time. He wanted someone close to his age, so that they could grow together. The earl actually resolved his problem for him, after many disappointing interviews, by reminding him of Lieutenant Taylor, who had recently been invalided out of Gareth’s regiment, due to the loss of an arm. “He has had some experience managing his cousin’s estate in Suffolk, and I know he is interested in many of the new methods that intrigue all you young men,” smiled the earl. An offer to the lieutenant was gratefully accepted, for, as he said, he had despaired of anyone wishing to hire him and was ready to return home and submit to his family’s cosseting. “And that, I assure you, Gareth, would have been the end of me. I have three younger sisters who are ready to be at my beck and call. I would have been dead of boredom within the year.”

Once that was settled, Gareth could turn more of his attention to his aunt. She seemed to be doing well, but Gareth knew how close she and his uncle had been. Their childlessness had brought them closer together, and Gareth could only imagine how the marchioness was feeling.

The marchioness allowed herself to grieve fully while her nephew was out, but when he came home she found it was a relief to question him about the estate and his upcoming marriage. Her loss only made her more aware of the unfashionably happy marriage she and her husband had shared. She wanted something like it for her nephew, but despite her earlier intuition that Arden was the woman for Gareth, she was a little worried about the lady’s continuing hostility.

“Of course, I must admit,” she said one night as she and Gareth shared a light supper, “that I would have been furious at such maneuverings myself. Are you sure you want to begin a marriage under such a burden, Gareth?”

“Oh, I have my moments of doubt,” replied her nephew.

“But Arden is different from any woman I have ever met and I like those differences. I did not have to make this offer, Aunt, but I wanted to. And not just because of my attraction to her, although that is strong. I am convinced she is not indifferent to me either, although the few times I have seen her this week she has gone to great lengths to convince me of it. We will start out no worse than some couples.”

“But you do not love her?”

“I do not know. I am drawn by her wit and intelligence and hope that her misuse of them comes from the fact that she is untempered by experience. If she is as much like her father as she seems, she will make a fine woman once her pride is broken.”

“Do you mean to break it? I would not like to see you playing the tyrant, Gareth. I would not think you had it in you.”

“Trying to control her would only strengthen her resistance, I am convinced. No, I think a little exposure to real life will do the job for me, Aunt Kate. Life on a sheep farm will be very different from what she is used to at Stalbridge.”

“Well, you hardly live in squalor, my dear. Richmond House is quite comfortable.”

“Comfortable, yes—but not at all luxurious. And with heavy responsibilities for the mistress of the house.”

“Well, I do wish that you were head over heels, however romantic of me that may be. I would like to see you as happy as your uncle and I were,” continued the marchioness, her voice trembling.

Gareth reached over to her and grasped her hand in silence.

“Thank you, my dear. I do not know how I would have got along without you these past weeks.”

“I only wish I did not have to go back to Yorkshire so soon and leave you behind.”

“I will do splendidly by myself, Gareth. I have my work, after all.”

“You are not going to continue it on your own, are you?”

“Why, I have always done it myself. Your uncle was supportive, but it has always been my calling. And my good Mr. Grimes is always there to accompany me. And there are also the plans for the dower house at Thorne to keep me occupied.”

“You are not expecting that I would move you there, Aunt?” exclaimed Gareth.

“Of course not. I will move myself. Come, come, Gareth. You will be taking up residence with your new wife when your family returns. And I’m sure I do not wish to be in the way. I am quite looking forward to redecorating. And I hope, by then, you would both find me in the way. I do so wish there was more affection between you.”