Puritan Bride

Swynford returned with pewter tankards of ale.

‘Let us hope that we shall be able to drink to the successful outcome of this matter,’ stated Sir Henry. Marlbrooke inclined his head in agreement as he accepted the tankard.

‘It seems to me a simple matter.’ The Viscount’s gaze swept the three players in the game. ‘Let us be honest about the possible outcome of the settlement of Winteringham Priory. We have both put forward a claim. It is most unlikely that the Commission will look with any sympathy on yours, given the history of recent loyalties and involvement in the War.’

Sir Henry knew that he was fighting a last-ditch stand, but rallied valiantly. ‘The estate belongs by right to the Harley family. It was not sold, but wrested from them forcibly—by your father, my lord. My niece has the legal right to the land. You cannot refute it.’

‘Possibly not.’ Marlbrooke remained calm and relaxed, sure of his ground. He could afford to be generous in victory. ‘The estate was sequestered from my father by the county committee in 1651. If you had made a push for the title then, it might have been a different story. As it is, my father compounded for the estate: indeed, he paid a far greater fine than the land was worth.’

Marlbrooke raised the tankard to his lips, drank, then continued. ‘For the past decade we have been excluded from politics and government until the happy restoration of our King. We devoted out energies to developing our assets. With considerable success, I might add.’ He smiled without humour. ‘I am in a far better position to bribe the Commission judges than you are, you understand.’

Sir Henry raised his hands, palm upwards, in defeat. ‘So. I have no choice but to accept the situation. I presume that you have not come here merely to gloat? What is your offer?’

‘All I ask is that Mistress Harley do me the honour of becoming my wife. I would not be so discourteous as to gloat,’ he reproved gently. ‘That will produce an immediate and satisfactory solution to any inheritance problem. She …’ he bowed his head slightly in Kate’s direction ‘… has the claim de jure, I have the estate de facto. What better solution? It is a valuable estate. We should not allow it to be harmed by interminable legal wrangling.’

Sir Henry looked with distaste at the composed and arrogant courtier before him. It was all too true, but it stuck in his gullet to accept it. ‘Very well,’ he stated, breaking the short silence. ‘Your offer has my consent. Katherine?’ He turned towards his niece who had remained silent and motionless throughout the negotiation, which had apparently settled her future without any reference to her own feelings in the matter. ‘You understand the situation. What is your reply?’ His fierce expression dared her to refuse the offer.

Kate continued to remain silent. What could she say? Her brain seemed to have frozen and she had lost the power of speech.

‘Katherine?’

Before the hiatus could become totally embarrassing, it was broken by Marlbrooke.

‘Perhaps I might be allowed to have a private word with Mistress Harley? I would not wish her to feel pressurised into this marriage against her will.’

A range of emotions flitted crossed Sir Henry’s face, not least the hope, quickly suppressed, that this arrogant young man would be refused out of turn by his volatile niece. Since the upstart Royalist was so confident, let him try!

‘Certainly, my lord. With pleasure. Perhaps, Katherine, you would care to show his lordship into the parlour.’

There was little point in arguing. Kate stalked out of the library, defiance writ clear in the erect spine, the proud carriage of her head, and into the pleasant panelled sitting room, which overlooked the front drive. She walked to the window where she turned to face her suitor, her back to the light so that it would be almost impossible for him to read her expression. Marlbrooke followed her more slowly, closing the door gently behind him.

The room echoed with a silence that neither party seemed to be in any hurry to break.

Kate stood motionless, acutely aware of her nerves stretching to breaking point, when Marlbrooke spoke. ‘So, Mistress Harley. You have had nothing to say so far about this transaction. I would be pleased to know your sentiments.’ His voice was soft but firm and Kate heard in it a command. She found her voice at last and was grateful that her anxiety was not evident.

‘Do you expect me to welcome this marriage?’

‘Hardly!’ He laughed gently. ‘But I do not desire a totally reluctant bride. That would lead to a most … uncomfortable relationship, would it not?’

‘So it would matter to you if I was pushed into this by family dictates?’ The surprise in her voice was clear.

‘Of course it would. I am no monster, in spite of any rumours to the contrary.’ Marlbrooke smiled slightly, a wry curl of his lips. ‘If you refused, if you could not possibly tolerate my person, I would accept your refusal.’

‘That’s all very well, my lord, but my uncle would not be so understanding!’ Kate was horrified to feel tears begin to sting her eyes and admonished herself at this emotional response to a practical matter. She swallowed and looked down, hiding her imminent distress with a sweep of dark lashes. ‘You are very kind,’ she managed in a low voice.

‘Is your heart perhaps given elsewhere?’

Richard! Oh, Richard! She shook her head. ‘No,’ she whispered, acknowledging the guilt of betrayal. She could not tell him. She could not allow him any knowledge that might give him a hold over her. She dare not trust his sympathy.

‘Your mother appears to see no objection.’

‘She wouldn’t, of course.’ Her tone was bleak.

‘I see. So, do you accept my offer, madam?’

It is like negotiating a good price for a beast at market, thought Kate wildly, swept by a sudden desire to laugh hysterically. Finally she raised her eyes to his across the growing shadows in the room.

‘My lord, I cannot refuse your offer.’

‘Then let us be practical.’ Perhaps he had heard the vestiges of panic in her voice, seen the ivory whiteness of her clasped fingers. ‘The marriage will bring you benefits. I am sufficiently wealthy to provide you with all the comforts of life that you could wish for. If it is your ambition to experience Court life, then so be it. Most importantly, you can return to your family home and be mistress of it. You must have affectionate memories of it.’

‘I have no memories of it!’ she was driven to reply bitterly. ‘I was only a few weeks old when we were cast out. How can I see it as my home?’

‘Then perhaps it will become so with custom. Come, Mistress Harley. These are the obvious advantages. What is your answer? You cannot put the blame on my shoulders for events that happened before I attained my majority. I would make recompense if possible.’

‘What do you gain from this?’ Kate’s bald enquiry appeared to take him as much by surprise it did her. It prompted him to hold out his hand. ‘Come here,’ he ordered. Kate found herself compelled by an overwhelming force to cross the polished expanse of floor between them and place her hand in his. He raised it and formally pressed her fingers to his lips. She was instantly reminded of a fair head rather than the dark one before her before she closed her mind to such painful comparisons.

Marlbrooke raised his head, continuing to hold her fingers lightly and at last replied to her question. ‘Since we are beginning this relationship on a point of honesty, madam, I will tell you what I will gain. I will gain security of tenure of the Winteringham estate. No descendants of yours will make a counterclaim against my inheritance at any future date. Your descendants will, of course, be my heirs. Furthermore, the King believes that it would be an excellent ploy to recompense my family whilst at the same time making clear his concern for those of his subjects who had, unfortunately, committed themselves to treasonable acts against the Crown.’

So there it was. Kate felt the blood run cold in her veins. A business deal expressed in a voice totally devoid of emotion. But what else had she expected? She snatched her hand away from the Viscount’s light control.

‘How fortunate that such intricate matters can be settled so easily.’ She failed to control the scorn in her voice. ‘If it is also the King’s wish, then how can I possibly refuse? I should certainly never receive another such flattering offer. I perceive that I should be honoured that anyone of your standing should wish to enter into an alliance with my family in the present political climate.’

‘Indeed, madam. After all,’ he reminded her in the smoothest of tones, ‘your uncle was one of Cromwell’s closest henchmen. Hardly the best qualification for advancement in the circumstances.’

Kate accepted the implied rebuke—indeed, she had no choice. ‘Very well. You have persuaded me where my family could not. I accused my uncle of misreading the situation. He obviously had not.’

‘I am afraid not. So? Your decision?’

Again she turned her face away. And then, ‘I accept your offer, my lord. I will agree to the marriage. I must thank you for your … condescension.’

Marlbrooke ignored the barb and bowed slightly. ‘I am most gratified. Perhaps I should have added that I shall also acquire a most beautiful wife?’

Kate looked up. In the evening light his face was still clear. She searched his eyes and fine-featured face. And such splendid eyes, she thought inconsequentially, dark grey and thickly fringed with black lashes. But there was no warmth or encouragement here for her in her distress, merely a cold, calculating strength of will.

‘Thank you, my lord.’ She could think of nothing else to say. She kept her voice as colourless as his. ‘I hope that I shall prove to be a conformable wife.’

‘I am relieved to hear it.’ Did she detect a flicker of amusement for the first time, the slightest twitch of his lips? But then it was gone, to be replaced by dry cynicism. ‘I am certain that we shall deal well together, madam. I will inform Sir Henry of your compliance. I believe that he will be greatly relieved. I will also inform you of the necessary arrangements in due course when the legalities are complete.’

He turned on his heel and walked to the door, halting to look back once more to where Kate stood motionless before the leaded window. The evening sun gave her dark curls a halo of gold, but left her face in shadow. Marlbrooke hesitated, his hand on the latch, appeared to change his mind and calmly, deliberately, retraced his steps until he was standing close before her. Kate’s immediate reaction was to retreat, but before she could do so she found herself held fast by the Viscount’s arm around her waist. She caught her breath in utmost surprise and was considering the most effective way to regain her freedom when his free hand wound itself into her tangled hair to pull her even closer.

‘Look at me,’ he demanded and when she automatically obeyed, his lips sought hers. It was a brief, cool caress, a fleeting touch of mouth against mouth, as insubstantial as a butterfly’s wing, but when Marlbrooke lifted his head his expression was not one of total disinterest. Kate could not read the fleeting emotion in his eyes, but was aware that his grasp showed no evidence of loosening.

‘Well, Mistress Harley? Nothing to say?’

‘No. I …’

‘Despite my admittedly short acquaintance with your delightful self, I would wager that you are rarely lost for words. Am I correct?’