His Makeshift Wife

The instant the question had been voiced, he lowered his eyes and appeared to consider what remained of the rich liquid in his glass. ‘There were several reasons, m’dear, for taking such a drastic step.’

The response was hardly destined to satisfy her, and it didn’t, of course. Furthermore, she wasn’t overly impressed, either, by the quick return of that infuriating drawl he continued to affect whenever the mood happened to take him. She was instantly on her guard, all at once intensely suspicious of his motives.

‘Come, sir, let us have a degree of honesty between us at the outset, otherwise relations between us are likely to become strained indeed, if we become mistrustful of each other,’ she suggested, refusing to admit defeat so easily. ‘I made no secret of the fact why I agreed to marry you. My motives were purely mercenary. Marriage offered me financial security, which I would never have attained without it.’

‘True, but I strongly suspect you would never have married for money alone, otherwise you would have done so long before now.’ There was a suspicion of a challenge in the look he cast her, almost daring her to deny it. ‘I clearly recall Aunt Lavinia being quite vexed because you flatly refused to accompany her to London for a Season. Hardly the actions of an avaricious miss, now were they, m’dear?’

Resentful though she was, she was obliged to accept that he knew a deal more about her than she did about him. She couldn’t help wondering what else Lady Ashworth had revealed in recent years and was doubly determined to discover the reason for his wishing to marry.

‘What a persistent little madam you are to be sure, Briony!’ he scolded, after she had reminded him that he hadn’t satisfied her curiosity. ‘Still, my aunt did warn me that there was a stubbornly determined streak in your nature. And Aunt Lavinia—bless her!—was a rare, truthful woman.’

He grinned at the look of exasperation he received. ‘Oh, very well, though I’m obliged to own it doesn’t redound to my credit.’

Once again he appeared to find the contents of his glass of immense interest. ‘You may or may not have heard that I’ve been playing rather deep of late. I wouldn’t go so far as to say I’m even remotely close to ruining myself, but my recent losses have been steadily mounting and, more significantly, have come to the ears of my uncle. Lord Kingsley is a most abstemious fellow, almost to the point of meanness, some might say. All the same, since his son died, and I became his heir, Uncle Augustus has made me a generous quarterly allowance. Furthermore, you’d need to go a long way to find an ancestral pile maintained to such a high standard as Kingsley Hall. It is little wonder that he would be concerned over its future well-being. By marrying and settling down in the country for a spell I hope to put the old man’s mind at rest as to my worthiness to step into his shoes.’

Briony wasn’t at all sure she liked the explanation she was being offered. Or believed it, either, come to that! ‘But won’t he think quite the opposite—that you’re utterly fickle, when the marriage is annulled?’

He shrugged, appearing completely indifferent to the prospect. ‘Oh, I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it. He hasn’t been at all well of late. That’s why he didn’t attend Aunt Lavinia’s funeral.’

Yes, at least Lord Kingsley had some excuse for not attending. Which is more than can be said for you! Briony longed to retort, but managed to check the stricture long before it reached her lips.

‘In fact, he hasn’t enjoyed good health for some time, not since the death of his only son,’ he continued, quite oblivious to the fact that he had plummeted in her estimation. ‘Sadly, I don’t believe he’s long for this world. Which I cannot imagine troubles him overmuch. He’s never been the same since Giles’s death.’

This did succeed in diverting her thoughts. ‘Yes, very tragic. I only ever met your uncle on one occasion, many years ago, when your aunt took me on a visit to Kent. Giles, like yourself, was at Oxford, so I never met him. His death was due to a riding accident, was it not?’

He nodded. ‘Yes, poor fellow,’ he said softly, and there could be no mistaking the sincerity in the deep voice. ‘It could have happened to anyone, I suppose, but he was the very last person I would have expected to meet his maker that way. He was a fine horseman, one of the best I’ve ever come across.’

‘You were evidently very fond of him,’ she remarked, never having considered the relationship between the two cousins before.

‘When a boy, I spent very nearly as much time at Kingsley Hall as I did here at the Manor. Giles and I were much of an age, attended the same school and, as you rightly mentioned, were up at Oxford together. We were more like brothers than cousins,’ he revealed, before he raised his eyes to discover a pair the same shade as cornflowers regarding him keenly.

His response was to grasp the decanter again, smiling crookedly. ‘But, I digress. What you really wish to know is just why I was willing to marry you. And to be brutally frank, m’dear, it was for the simple reason the Manor offered me the perfect retreat, the ideal sanctuary. You see, there is a certain lady of my acquaintance that I’m finding increasingly—er—wearisome.’

The contemptuous curl that instantly appeared at one side of a very shapely feminine mouth revealed clearly enough that snippets of gossip appearing in newspapers had most assuredly been perused under the Manor’s roof in recent months.

He gazed resolutely down into his glass again, doing his utmost to suppress a twitching smile. ‘As I had no desire to be called to account by the understandably aggrieved spouse, thereby causing a major scandal, I decided it might be wise to abandon the metropolis before I was summoned to pistols at dawn, so to speak.’

‘Such an edifying tale!’ she muttered, quite unequal to keeping the derision oozing from each word. She hurriedly got to her feet, deciding it might be wise to leave before she allowed the contempt she felt induce her to say more than was wise.

He made no attempt to stop her this time, and succeeded in bidding her a pleasant goodnight before she had whisked herself quite speedily from the room. The instant the door had been closed quietly behind her, the faintly inane look he had adopted during the past few minutes vanished completely, and the earnest expression of a gentleman contemplating some ticklish problems took possession of his features.

After arriving at the bedchamber that had been her private retreat for so many very contented years, Briony discovered not the young maid Alice awaiting her, as expected, and didn’t attempt to hide her surprise at finding Janet tidying away some freshly laundered garments.

‘What on earth are you doing here? I imagined you would have been putting your feet up, after taking all the trouble to prepare that delicious dinner this evening. No doubt you’ll be pleased to hear your new lord and master thought the meal couldn’t have been bettered,’ she added, seating herself before her dressing-table mirror in order to begin removing the pins from her hair.

‘That was very good of Master Luke to say so,’ Janet responded, appearing well pleased with the compliment on her culinary skills, ‘although no more than I would have expected from such a thoughtful gentleman. But even so …’ She shot a considering look at her young mistress through the mirror, as she lent a helping hand to take down the long chestnut tresses. ‘I—I thought you’d mayhap be grateful for a word or two of comfort from an older woman … this being your wedding night and all, and you not having had a mother to guide you, so to speak.’

It took Briony a moment only to appreciate to what her dear Janet was alluding. It was perfectly true that she had no very real idea of what took place in the marriage bed, her godmother having only ever touched briefly on the subject by divulging that young brides had nothing whatsoever to fear, providing they had married considerate gentlemen.

She wasn’t so naïve as to suppose all females found the married state entirely to their liking. There were several young matrons in the locale, and not all appeared well pleased with their lot. But what did that matter to her? Her union was one of convenience only, therefore she had nothing to be concerned about.

‘Don’t trouble yourself on my account, Janet. I assure you I’m not in the least uneasy.’

‘Well, of course you’re not!’ Janet agreed, smiling reassuringly. ‘As I’ve mentioned before, Master Luke’s such a kind, considerate soul, one of life’s real gentlemen.’

And it’s in his own best interests to act like one if he desires the marriage to be annulled! Briony mused, attaining more reassurance out of this knowledge than any words of comfort the housekeeper might offer an innocent young bride.

‘And the way he looked at you in church!’ Janet continued, oblivious to her young mistress’s highly contrasting thoughts. ‘Fair touched my heart to see how much he cares for you!’

Briony scarcely knew what to say to this. She could hardly dismiss it as arrant nonsense, thereby arousing the housekeeper’s suspicions. Furthermore, Janet wasn’t fanciful as a rule. Evidently she’d seen something to make her suppose that Luke cared for his new bride. Clearly he was doing his utmost to appear the doting spouse. And she must at least attempt to do likewise!

‘I must own to having come to a—er—better understanding with Mr Kingsley soon after his arrival in Dorset.’

‘That goes without saying, mistress, otherwise you wouldn’t have wedded. And I’m so pleased you didn’t allow your head to rule your heart for very long. It’s plain to see you and Master Luke are made for each other.’

Oh, God! Briony inwardly groaned. Maintaining the pretence of a perfect union might well turn out to be far harder than she had ever imagined. How on earth was she going to pretend to be a blissfully contented married woman for a whole six months?

Striving not to dwell on the ticklish problem, she occupied herself with getting ready for bed. Not attempting to make conversation, and her rather business-like approach to changing into a freshly laundered nightgown didn’t appear to arouse the least suspicion in the housekeeper’s breast. It was only when Briony collected the book she had begun to read a day or so earlier, before settling herself in the bed, that the housekeeper’s greying brows shot up in surprise.

‘Why, Miss Briony!’ Dismay had clearly caused Janet momentarily to forget her young mistress’s new status. ‘You’re never thinking of reading … not on your wedding night?’

Briony was nonplussed for a moment. ‘Why ever shouldn’t I?’

Janet spread her arms in a helpless gesture. ‘Well … because I swear I heard the master’s footsteps along the passageway a few minutes ago.’

‘In that case you’d best not tarry,’ Briony advised.

Which had clearly been the right thing to say, for an expression of approval replaced the look of bewilderment on the housekeeper’s face, a moment before she whisked herself out of the room.

Briony released her breath in a long sigh of relief, as she made herself comfortable against the mound of lacy pillows. At last she could relax with her book and forget about all the subterfuge, at least until morning.

No sooner had the comforting thought filtered through her mind than she detected the click of the door leading to the master bedroom and discovered none other than the tall figure of her husband filling the aperture.

More intrigued than unnerved, she found herself studying his attire, or lack of it, for beneath the crimson-brocade dressing gown she strongly suspected he was wearing absolutely nothing at all. Dark curling hairs clearly showed between ornately embroidered lapels, and there was a suspicion of the same dark covering caressing the ankles of unshod feet.

‘Is there something amiss? I was informed all your belongings had been placed in your room,’ she remarked as he slowly approached the bed, all at once seeming far taller and broader in his casual attire. His face seemed different, too—younger somehow, with several locks of waving brown hair tumbling over his forehead—and there was a definite intense, almost hungry look in those grey eyes that never for a second wavered from her direction.

‘Have you misplaced something, perhaps?’ she added, all at once feeling decidedly ill at ease when he seated himself, uninvited, on the edge of the bed and placed one bronzed hand so close to her that his thumb rested against her thigh.

‘Only my bride,’ he returned silkily, sending her unease soaring in an instant.

Her response was to draw up her knees and tug the bedcovers up to her chin, clutching them frantically. ‘You—you f-forget yourself, sir!’ Even to her own ears her voice sounded little more than a choked whisper. ‘Or have you forgotten the bargain you made?’

‘I forget nothing. But for appearances’ sake I felt I must at least—er—pay you a visit,’ he responded, his voice growing increasingly guttural. ‘So whilst I’m here I might as well avail myself of the opportunity to discover if, perchance, you’ve changed your mind and natural maidenly modesty forbids you to reveal that you desire to become a wife in … every sense?’

The response to this was a violent shake of the head, which sent silky chestnut tresses whipping across wide, frightened eyes, and induced slender tapering fingers to clutch more frantically at white linen, as though her very life depended upon it.

Luke wrested the bed sheet from her grasp as easily as if he were depriving a child of its toy and smiled softly. ‘There’s no need to look so terrified, Briony,’ he assured her, reaching out to trace the soft line of her jaw with surprisingly gentle fingers. ‘I’ve never yet forced myself on an unwilling female and I have no intention of doing so now. The marriage will be as you wish … mere pretence.’