Tuesday's Child (Heroines Born on Each Day of the Week Book 3) (29 page)

“I am confident they will sympathise with your situation and make you welcome.”

Doubtful, Harriet looked up at him. “What a twisted coil. How shall we unwind it?”

“You refer to our betrothal?”

Harriet nodded.

For the second time that morning, Dominic knelt in front of her. This time, he took possession of her hands. “I shall be proud to introduce you to my parents as my future wife.”

Harriet clutched his hands. “You are too good, but for you to be forced into marriage is unacceptable. Besides, I am certain they expect you to wed a lady whose birth equals your own, and who has a large dowry.” Distraught she wrenched her hands from his gentle clasp.

Dominic recaptured them. “Hush. My parents’ marriage was arranged by their families, yet they fell in love and have remained so ever since. Although circumstances have arranged our betrothal, don’t you think you might learn to love me?”

The door opened. Jack bounced into the room with all the enthusiasm of a young man. “Look at both of you, a pair of lovebirds if ever I saw any. Be careful, Mister Markham, my Aunt Castleton will have you caged, cooing and tamed before you can draw breath.”

Dominic stood, his shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter. “Irreverent pup, please spare my future bride’s blushes.”

“I beg your pardon,” Jack apologised, without the slightest sign of repentance. “Must say I never expected to be so entertained when Mamma insisted I visit the earl. Attempted murder, lovers only with eyes for each other and, best of all, the tale of Grandpapa’s shocking misdeeds, which I chanced to overhear through an open window. All of us knew the old rascal is eccentric. None of us guessed how wicked he is. I could not be more entertained at the theatre.”

Harriet stood. “How dare you speak so cold-heartedly with regard to the attempt on your cousin’s life?”

“My apologies, Aunt Castleton. The thing is, Arthur is safe and all the grooms and stable boys are being questioned about the loose girth. I did not mean to distress you.”

“I accept your apology, but, in future, I suggest you should consider your words more carefully,” Harriet scolded, as though he had reminded her of some of the high-spirited, junior officers she had known in the peninsular. “After all, you are a member of the Upper House with great responsibilities.”

“Yes, and so is grandfather, and he does become heated over certain government policies.” Jack looked at them whistling low. “Whatever you might think, he is not insane. He is a tyrant. However, there is no excuse for him riding roughshod over everyone.” The colour in Jack’s cheeks increased, an indication of his embarrassment. “Grandfather believes his title and his wealth entitle him to do whatever he wishes regardless of anyone else’s sensibilities, which he never considers.”

“Thank you for your explanation,” Harriet murmured after a brief silence.

When Jack did not reply, Dominic spoke. “Lady Castleton, I shall ride back to the rectory to tell my sister we are betrothed, before returning in the carriage within the hour to collect you and Arthur.” He looked at Jack. “In the meantime please don’t allow Pennington to bully your aunt.”

* * *

Dominic’s mare trotted from Clarencieux towards the Rectory. She needed little guidance from him for she knew her way back to the stable.

So, he would be shackled for life, yet, if he could win her love, the chains would be insignificant. Dominic pressed his lips into a firm line. After he was discovered with a lady in his arms, only an unscrupulous man would have refused to propose marriage to her. What a tangled knot, from which there was no escape. If either of them cried off, Harriet’s reputation would be tarnished. Something he could not be responsible for.

Although Gwenifer warned him not to enter the parson’s noose with Harriet, Dominic shrugged. It was the proverbial case of the pot calling the kettle black for, despite their parents intense opposition to Gwenifer’s choice of husband, she married him.

‘Fool!’ Dominic castigated himself. ‘You know your family will disapprove of the match.’ He frowned. If he took Harriet to his father’s ancestral seat, would she be treated with disdain? After he broke the news of his betrothal to his parents, even if they thawed sufficiently to receive Harriet courteously, no doubt they would be disappointed. He sighed. According to his mother, his father would be more than disheartened.  For as she pointed out, he had endured the loss of two sons, and now he must accept the imminent death of his eldest, so Papa pinned his hopes on him.

Perhaps it would not be advisable to take Harriet to Faucon House.

What of his betrothed? Did she wish to wed him? Equally important, did he want to marry her? Dominic shook his head in self-reproof. To be honest, from the moment he first saw her she captured his admiration, if not his heart. Even then he had wanted to kiss her. Yet, soon he loved her as much as he wanted her in his bed. Admit it, he admonished himself, she already rules my heart. Moreover, I want her to be both mistress of my house and my lover. The image of Harriet in their marriage bed, compliant in his arms, brought a surge of such strong passion that it hurt.

Yes, he admitted to himself, I want Harriet at my side for the rest of my life. I cannot imagine a marriage of convenience to any other lady, of whom my family would approve. There are too many such marriages amongst members of the ton, which lead to it being taken for granted it is acceptable for a husband to keep a mistress.

If he wed Harriet, he would honour his marriage vows. He smiled and admitted regardless of the consequences, more than anything else in the world he wanted Harriet to be his wife.

If only Robert could rewrite his life, and once more be the elder brother he respected and from whom he sought advice. His eyes moist, he bowed his head. Expectations founded on his brother’s demise were repugnant.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Since the ground floor of the rectory, was almost uninhabitable due to workmen engaged in plastering, painting and hanging wallpaper, Dominic chose to sit in the garden with Gwenifer.

A crease between her eyebrows, she eyed him suspiciously. “Dominic, to judge by your smile you are uncommonly pleased with yourself.”

“Yes, I am. Wish me joy. Lady Castleton has accepted my hand in marriage.

Her fist pounded the marble top of the wrought iron table between them. Her cheeks flared poppy red. “I am sincere when I say I do like her ladyship, though you should not marry her, even if she ‘set her cap at you’. And who could blame her if she did.” Tears filled her eyes.” I am worried about our parents.  What will they say when you tell them? Even if they don’t admit it, your betrothal will add to the distress caused by poor dear Robert’s condition, and the deaths of our younger brothers. Oh, how could you, the future Earl of Faucon, stoop to marry a…a female whose birth is far below yours? Does your family’s opinion mean nothing to you?”

Dominic held up his hand. “Enough. You are mistaken, Lady Castleton did not, as you so vulgarly put it, ‘set her cap at me’. To the contrary, I am grateful because she has stooped to agree to marry me. Moreover, I hope Mamma and Papa, will come to terms with my choice of wife.” Dominic hoped his frigid tone of voice conveyed his displeasure with his sister’s words.

Yet, he believed his sister when, not for the first time, she assured him she enjoyed Lady Castleton’s company. He also understood she only reacted to the news of his betrothal with such frankness, because their family’s reaction to the betrothal troubled her.

Gwenifer bent her head and toyed with a rosy apple, which she took from the hand-painted china bowl of fruit on the table. “Oh, Dominic, even if you are cross with me, remember both of us love our parents, so I spoke out of my concern for them.” She sighed. “When you marry, I shall wish you happy, even if you wed Lady Castleton.”

His sister’s subdued voice implied his words chastened her. “Thank you. My bride-to-be and her son cannot remain at the abbey,” he explained. “The earl cares nothing for Lady Castleton’s welfare, his only concern is his heir. He has threatened to claim custody of her child, even if it means taking the case to court. However, after Mrs Tarrant revealed his past infamy, and threatened to make it public, he realised he could not prevent his daughter-in-law’s departure with his grandson.”

“What did he do?” Gwenifer asked with palpable curiosity.

Bathed in radiant sunlight, which made dark deeds seem almost impossible, Dominic described Pennington’s reprehensible conduct towards Mrs Tarrant and her sisters. “And,” he concluded, “if that is not sufficient melodrama to suffice for today, there is the question of who loosened the girth on Arthur’s pony.”

For a few moments, his sister  watched bees humming as they gathered nectar from a multitude of pale blue flowers on the rosemary bush, and then shook her head. “Such wickedness,” she murmured. “Poor Harriet, my heart goes out to her.”

“And,” Dominic added, hard put to restrain his anger, “who is to say another attempt would not be made on the boy’s life if he remained at Clarencieux?”

His sister’s eyes, glass-green in the strong light, stared into his. “Surely not.”

“It is possible. Even if they try to hide it, Pennington’s relatives are displeased by the discovery of a hitherto unknown heir. Any of them might harbour murderous intentions towards Arthur. So, I shall collect Lady Castleton and my future step-son to remove him from danger. In the meantime, please arrange for a late nuncheon to be served.”

Dominic stood and bent to press a kiss onto the top of his sister’s head. “One other matter, while I am away, to avoid possible gossip, I think you should have a chaperone. Do you know of a lady who can keep you company?”

“Yes, Cousin Margaret might agree. After we eat I shall ride to her brother’s house to invite her to visit me. Mind you, any reference to workmen would dismay her, so I will not mention it to her. I shall say you have been … er … called away so I would welcome her company.”

Amused, Dominic raised an eyebrow. “Do all females have such devious minds? But what will you do if she refuses your invitation?”

“Cousin Margaret will not, for she is tired of being an unpaid companion to her sister-in-law, and also of helping to care for her unruly brood of nephews and nieces. She will enjoy being my guest.”

“What else must I do?” Dominic asked. “Ah, yes, speak to my curate and instruct him to conduct the church services. Don’t be alarmed, I shall threaten him with my displeasure if he speaks so vehemently about hell fires that terrified children cry.”

* * *

Bessie’s eyes glowed. “Yes, my lady, I’ll pack Lord Castleton’s duds immediately. And, if you don’t mind my saying so, I’ll be glad to leave here. Wherever it is you’re going, I hope you’ll take me with you.”

Harriet glanced at her son, who lay on his tummy, absorbed by his toy soldiers, which he arranged in a square to repel an attack by the enemy. She needed Bessie and so did Arthur, who was genuinely fond of his nurse. Well, she had been frugal with the generous allowance Pennington had given her, so, for the time being, she could afford to pay the young woman.

“Well, Bessie, if you are certain you wish to continue in my service, pack your clothes as well as Lord Castleton’s. Within the hour, I shall send a footman to collect the baggage.”

“Yes, my lady. Bessie curtsied. “Please may I send word to my mother to let her know where I’m going.”

“Of course, Mister Markham has invited me and my son to visit his parents at Faucon House.”

“I’ll let Mother know.” Bessie opened a cupboard and began to pile Arthur’s books and toys on the table.

Fear snarled through Harriet. If she left Arthur in the nursery with Bessie, her father-in-law might kidnap him. A wave of mingled apprehension and protectiveness swept through her. “Arthur, get up and come with me.”

He looked up at her. “Not now, Mamma, I am playing with my soldiers.”

“Yes, now, we are going to stay with Mister Markham’s parents so, if you want to take your toys with you, Bessie has to pack them.”

“Not now, later, Mamma.”

“Arthur!” Harriet exclaimed in the firm tone, which she knew he would obey.

When she opened the door, she came face-to-face with the earl.

Arthur trembled and clutched her skirt.

Did her father-in-law’s eyes reveal a hint of regret as they looked at her?

“My child,” he began.

She glared at him. “I am glad I am not your child. If I were, I would be ashamed to have such a father. Please stand aside.”

When he did not move, she pushed past him with Arthur, who still held tight to the soft folds of her muslin skirt.

“Castleton, come here.”

Slowly, Arthur turned around. He stepped slowly towards his grandfather, who stretched out his arm to hold her son’s hand. Almost in tears, Arthur backed away. “Don’t want to talk to you. Don’t want to see you.”

Pennington’s face twisted – his wrinkles deepened, and he sucked in his cheeks. “Castleton, you are dear to me and I-” he began, clearly finding it almost impossible to either admit to or fully express his warped affection.

Arthur pressed his hands over his ears. “Won’t listen.”

Harriet ignored both Arthur’s rudeness and the earl’s attempt to placate her child. “Bessie, come with us,” she ordered, reluctant to leave the nurse alone with Pennington.