A Too Convenient Marriage

‘I’m curious—why did Lord Rockland take you in instead of placing you with another family?’ He pulled on one rein to make the horse turn at the end of the row. ‘I have a difficult time believing Lady Rockland was amenable to the idea.’

‘I’ve never really asked.’ She shrugged. ‘Out of gallantry, perhaps, or a desire to prove he’s so far above everyone else he can claim paternity to any child he’s sired no matter how much it irritates his wife or shocks his peers.’

‘I imagine Grosvenor Square was alight with other grand ladies warning their husbands not to follow Lord Rockland’s lead.’

‘And children of questionable parentage all over London breathed a sigh of relief at not being thrust into this world, always hovering on the fringes, a lady and yet not a lady, a duke’s daughter and his bastard all at the same time.’

‘You aren’t to refer to yourself in such a way. Do you understand?’ He refused to hear her speak so meanly of herself.

‘But it’s what I am and how everyone here and in Oxfordshire has always seen me.’ Her green eyes clouded with a loneliness he understood. He knew what it was like to be derided by those who should care for you the most. ‘It’s how Lord Howsham viewed me.’

‘Hang Lord Howsham and all these idiots. It’s not how I see you or how I want you to view yourself. You’re my affianced and very soon to be my wife, a respectable woman who no one has the right to look down on.’

She tugged at the bonnet ribbons beneath her pert chin. ‘About Lord Howsham. I think I should explain.’

‘No, I don’t want to know. Neither of our past amours interest me.’ He gathered her time with the earl hadn’t been good and, despite never having met the man, Justin wanted to pound his face for the insults he’d heaped upon Susanna. How he could have abandoned such a woman, especially after the promises he’d made, he didn’t know. It didn’t bode well for his honour, or that of any other man of his class.

Justin settled his shoulders and his hackles, allowing the more pleasant sensation rising beneath to come over him. He wished he had a man to drive them so he could sit with Susanna and bask in her intelligent eyes and the way she admired him with respect and interest no other woman had ever shown.

If they weren’t sitting in view of all of Hyde Park, he’d lean across the bench, take her parted lips with his and shock everyone passing in their carriages. He was tempted to bring the curricle to a halt near the line of trees, place his hands around her trim waist to help her down, and then feel the curve of her breasts against his chest as he led her behind a tree while he freed her hair from the bonnet. It was a giddy, boyish desire, one she’d sparked the moment she’d appeared at the top of the stairs. He hadn’t experienced a craving like this since his youth and it filled him with an anticipation he’d never known with a woman before, one he wasn’t about to act on.

Soon she’d be his wife and they’d be free to take their pleasure at their ease. He’d make her sigh with passion instead of sadness. She wasn’t a jaded widow or spurned paramour, but a lonely woman in need of affection. He’d see to it she had what she needed both in body and spirit. He looked forward to drawing out the bold woman who’d faced him yesterday, instead of the unsure, hesitant one sitting beside him today.

* * *

Susanna stared out at the passing carriages, thankful Justin didn’t intend to press her or judge her for her mistake with Lord Howsham. Justin’s lack of interest in the matter wiped the slate clean. If only she could brush away the nasty chalk marks of her illegitimacy and the way it tainted her in the eyes of everyone riding past. Justin might urge her to think more of herself, but after a lifetime of being reminded of a sin of which she was not guilty, she couldn’t simply put it aside. The taint was too much a part of her, like her hair colour or eyes, although perhaps in time, with his help she could forget it.

She slipped Justin a curious look, admiring how straight he sat on the seat, the edge of a smile drawing up the corners of his mouth until it seemed he might whistle in delight. Despite his joy, he wasn’t some silly lout with more fluff than brains, or a thug for his employer who thought of nothing more than his own pleasure. There was a depth to him she’d caught earlier in the mention of his father, and again just now, a sense of honour and loyalty to those in his charge, including her.

‘When do you think we’ll wed?’ She was eager for the date to be set and the vows to be spoken, suddenly afraid something would rise up to take this opportunity and the happiness it offered away from her.

‘Eager for the wedding night, are we?’ His subtle, teasing words curled around her and sparked an excitement deep inside her she hadn’t experienced since the time she’d stood alone in the woods with Lord Howsham. With the earl there’d been an edge of uncertainty and danger. With Justin, it was like craving the cool rush of water over burning skin on a hot day. It made her bold and she tilted her head, eyeing him through her lashes.

‘Among other things.’

‘Such as?’ He glanced at her from beneath the shadow of his hat and she licked her lips. She was eager for the wedding night, though she didn’t want to appear like some hussy and admit it, not in the middle of Rotten Row.

‘Having my own house,’ she announced wistfully. ‘It’ll be nice to belong somewhere instead of being made to feel as if I’m some unwanted guest by the Rocklands, and even by my mother’s family.’

The admission itself shamed her as much as the ease with which she’d made it. It wasn’t like her to air her grief because there was never anyone there to listen, or to care, but something about Justin made it difficult for her to be reserved.

‘You’ll never be unwanted at my house, though it isn’t as grand as your father’s.’

‘It could be a hovel for all I care.’

‘It’s not quite so humble.’ He laughed, his good mood lifting hers. ‘But it needs a woman’s touch.’

‘I don’t wish to intrude on your space.’ Outside of the colour Lady Rockland and Edwina’s rooms were painted, her father had rarely allowed Lady Rockland any say in the decor or even the management of the four houses he owned. It was another of the many things which stuck in the woman’s craw and increased her bitterness.

‘Intrude all you want, except in my study.’ He slowed the horse as they made a turn, his mastery of the ribbons as appealing as his confidence in the seat and his openness with her. ‘A man has to have his space, just as you’ll have a room of your own to do with what you please. I want you to be happy with me and for us to work together in both our home and the business.’

‘Thank you.’ She settled her hands in her lap, fingering the fine embroidery on the back of her glove. Of all the things she must soon become accustomed to, his concern for her, not just his physical desire, would be the most difficult. She would offer him the same regard, although it wouldn’t come as easily to her as it did to him. She’d spent so many years hardening herself against attacks, it was difficult to imagine letting down her guard enough to trust another person with her life and possibly her heart, but she must. He offered her a future free of guilt and derision, a future she never could have imagined before today. She would do everything she could to be worthy of it and embrace the life he promised her.

* * *

Darkness began to settle over the city as Justin strolled with Philip through the warehouse set on the banks of the Thames. They examined the casks and bottles they’d seized from the vintner earlier in the day. There hadn’t been time before Justin’s appointment with Susanna for them to take stock of what was about to become Justin’s first inventory. Mr Tenor walked behind them, listening and observing as always. Before Justin’s ship had faltered, he’d been training Mr Tenor to take his place as Philip’s assistant, much to the elder Mr Connor’s grief. Justin’s father had served the elder Mr Rathbone faithfully, prospering under the family as Justin had done, but Justin wanted more for himself and some day his own son. However, judging by the quality of the casks, it would be a while before Mr Tenor received his promotion.

‘The vintages aren’t as good as I’d hoped.’ Justin frowned as he held up the lantern to read a label. When the vintner had run off to escape his debt, he must have taken the best of his stock with him.

‘There are a few fine ones here.’ Philip examined the bottles packed in straw in a crate. ‘They should turn a nice profit.’

‘Not as nice as I’d like. I can sell the rest to public houses and a few merchants of less discerning taste.’ It wouldn’t bring in the money he needed. Those funds would come from Lord Rockland’s order for the masque and whatever other great men’s wishes Justin could fulfil. Despite Susanna’s wariness about cultivating some of the peerage’s patronage, he hadn’t given up entirely on the idea.

‘When I have the shop, I’ll have you transfer these to it,’ he instructed Mr Tenor.

‘Yes, sir,’ the brawny man answered, scratching at the holster and pistol under his thick arm.

Justin looked over the casks. To his amazement, he was more excited for his upcoming nuptials than this first foray into his new venture. The afternoon with Susanna had been far more pleasant than he’d expected, her humour and plain speaking as charming as it was captivating. He wished he hadn’t needed to cut their drive short, but there was as much business to see to as pleasure. Very soon there’d be a wonderful meeting of both.

‘When will you have the building?’ Philip asked as they stepped out into the misty night and Mr Tenor locked up the warehouse.

‘In a few days.’ With it would go the last of the money the sea hadn’t claimed. If he couldn’t make a go of the business, he could sell the building, hopefully at a profit. If his losses were too large, he’d be forced to continue in Philip’s employ. It had taken a great deal for Justin to swallow his pride and apply to his friend when failure had beset him the last time. It wasn’t an option he wished to entertain now, no matter how much he admired Philip.

‘Do you need any assistance?’ Philip asked tactfully as they strolled to the waiting carriage. Mr Tenor fell back to the cart where the other men who worked for Philip transferring goods stood smoking pipes and chatting.

Justin rested his hands on his hips and pushed back the edges of his coat, revealing the butt of the pistol in its holster beneath the wool. Though Philip would never allow him to fall into debtors’ prison, or worse, Justin wanted to be his own man and emulate his friend’s success through his own efforts. ‘You helped me enough the last time and lost a pretty penny in the bargain. I won’t put your money at risk again.’

Nor would he risk Susanna’s dowry until it was absolutely necessary. He wouldn’t use it to fund his business, but keep the money safe. It would be a hedge against his losses, protection against total ruin in case nature decided to flatten his business with a grape blight or a sudden fire. Remaining on land was no guarantee one wouldn’t be sunk.

‘Bastard, you ruined me.’ A man’s voice rang out from the deep shadows between the buildings.

They whirled to see a man rushing at them, pistol raised. His face was black with grime and his long hair reached down to touch the dirty red soldier’s coat with its black shoulder boards.

Justin stepped in between his unarmed friend and the man, brandishing his weapon. ‘Move an inch closer and I’ll take the top of your head off.’

The man jerked to a halt, fear widening his eyes. Justin recognised him as a bookseller who’d used Philip’s loan for drink instead of paying off his debt and whose business had failed last year. He’d since accepted the king’s shilling to feed himself and apparently to buy more gin. Justin could smell it over the stench of the river.

‘I’ll kill you both for what you did to me.’ The man kept the pistol aimed at them, refusing to back down, too drunk to be afraid.

‘Drop your weapon and walk away and we’ll all forget this ever happened,’ Justin suggested, not wanting trouble with either this man or the constable.

‘Not until you’ve paid for ruining me.’