Miss Cameron's Fall from Grace

‘When you become my husband, I can only hope the war with France is of long duration and that your military duties will keep you in Spain,’ she asserted. ‘Until then, if you address me in a civil manner, you will not find me lacking in respect. It is something that comes naturally to me, except when I meet intemperance.’

‘Enough,’ her father cut in. ‘Let us get on with it. There are arrangements to be made.’

‘Of course,’ Stephen said, speaking precisely. ‘Under the circumstances it would be best if Delphine remained here until I return from Spain. I shall then take her to my home in Cornwall.’

‘No, sir, you will not,’ Lord Cameron asserted forcefully. ‘As your wife my daughter’s place will be in your house. After the ceremony you will take her there directly. I am sure you will not be delayed too long in rejoining your regiment.’

Stephen turned his frigid gaze upon his future father-in-law. ‘And of course you insist upon that?’

His lordship fixed the colonel with an unwavering stare. ‘Yes, I do.’

A muscle twitched angrily in Stephen’s cheek. ‘Very well, although I shall have to leave almost immediately and will have no time to see her settled in.’

‘I think I shall manage perfectly well without you,’ Delphine said coldly.

Stephen looked at his future wife. ‘Marriage to me is what your father wants and marriage to me is what you shall have for the rest of your life.’

‘Do you forget there is a war on, my lord? Men are being killed out there. There is every chance you won’t return.’

He laughed low in his throat and his eyes were merciless. ‘Have no fear, Delphine. I have no desire to leave you too soon.’

‘There is the matter of Delphine’s dowry to discuss before you go. I am prepared to make a generous settlement.’

‘Keep it. I want nothing from you.’

His reply drew a surprised gasp from Delphine. Her father stared at the colonel for a moment, bewildered.

‘Did I hear you correctly, sir?’

‘You did,’ Stephen replied coldly. ‘I have no intention of taking payment for marrying my wife.’

‘But—it is normal practice.’

‘It is not a practice I approve of. I am capable of financing Delphine’s needs, Lord Cameron.’

‘I will not be a burden to you, Colonel,’ Delphine told him, ‘socially or financially. At least that way I can manage to retain some shred of self-esteem.’

Stephen looked at her with hard eyes. ‘As my wife, you will hardly be in a position to maintain yourself without me. You will find that out soon enough.’

With that he inclined his head to them both and walked to the door. Delphine caught a glimpse of his angry, aristocratic profile as he paused for a moment, then he was gone with only a pledge that he would not be late for the ceremony.

It was over. Delphine was now the wife of Lord Fitzwaring and on the point of leaving London. When they had left the church her face had been ashen. Impatient to dispose of the daughter who had fallen from grace, Lord and Lady Cameron had made it a rushed affair.

There had been no beautiful wedding dress, no bridesmaids, only a husband who despised her for forcing him into marriage against his will. When they had spoken their vows he had placed the ring on her finger and the traditional kiss on her cold, unresponsive lips. As Stephen raised his head, his taunting smile had seared her and brought a rush of angry colour to her cheeks. He was laughing cruelly at her and her pride was stung. She jutted her chin defiantly and glared at him.

‘Were I a man you would not sneer so easily.’

She saw his cheeks crease with a maddeningly slow and mischievous smile, and when he spoke it was for her ears only, low and unmerciful. ‘Were you a man you would not be in the situation you are now in, my love.’

Her temper flared and she tried to wrest her arm free from what to everyone present appeared to be a husband’s tender hand placed on his wife’s arm. To Delphine his grip was like a vice, which tightened as she tried to pull it free.

Lowering his head to hers, his warm breath fanning her cheek, seeming to enjoy her distress, Stephen murmured, ‘You cannot escape me, Delphine. I have a very possessive nature. You are mine, now and for ever, so smile and let everyone see how happy you are.’

Her face burned. She had little left to be proud of. Even her independence had been stripped from her and it goaded her that she must now rely upon this man for her support. ‘You must be the vilest of toads that I have ever had the misfortune to meet,’ she hissed.

He did not seem surprised or insulted. Undaunted, he lifted his brows quizzically, a twist of humour about his beautifully moulded lips. ‘This is a crushing moment, my love. I have been called some unflattering things in my life, but I have never been called a toad,’ he murmured, chuckling deep as he walked her back down the aisle.

The wedding feast had been a strained affair and passed quickly. The bride and groom were now about to depart on their journey to Cornwall. Standing in the hall Delphine was indeed living as in a nightmare. Only two of her sisters, Rose and Fern, had been present at the ceremony—although she had seen little of them since the morning of her return following her night with Lord Fitzwaring. She suspected that her mother had purposely kept them away from her lest she contaminate her precious darlings with her loose morals.

Her two older sisters were married and lived too far away to attend the wedding at such short notice. The twins had looked on in bewilderment, with no knowledge of what had transpired between their younger sister and the handsome soldier. They were so perfect, so fragile and dainty, with pale silk hair and rose-tinted skin, both dressed in identical gowns of the palest cream. Their eyes were an incredible bright blue, their mouths soft and tremulous. They were innocent and had perfect manners—in fact, they were everything Delphine was not and they were to marry into the aristocracy a few months hence.

Lord and Lady Cameron doted on their beautiful identical twins. All her life Delphine had longed for her parents to look at her the way they looked at Rose and Fern. Their haste to see her gone from the house was almost too painful to bear.

Now she bade farewell to the servants and family retainers who had gathered to say goodbye and offer their salutations and, unexpectedly, a few tears. She was particularly sad to bid goodbye to her Aunt Celia, who would miss both her and her help at the orphanage terribly. A level-headed woman who was usually in control of herself and any situation, she had been made privy to the circumstances that had brought about this hasty marriage. Aunt Celia’s usually stern face broke into a kindly smile and her eyes filled with tears.

‘God bless you, my dear,’ she said, embracing her tenderly. ‘I’m going to miss you for more reasons than you know. I am so proud of you.’

‘Proud of me?’ Delphine said sadly. ‘How can that be when I have disgraced you all?’

Celia smiled at her gently. ‘Nonsense. Sometimes a girl cannot help the things that happen to her. She is just a victim of circumstance.’

‘Or of a particular soldier,’ Delphine murmured sadly.

Celia laughed softly. ‘Yes, or of a soldier. But at least your Colonel Fitzwaring is a handsome soldier. When my dear brother told me of your predicament and said a colonel in Wellington’s army was to blame, I had cause to worry. I had visions of him being old and ugly and lecherous. I am relieved to find he is none of those things. I think he is quite magnificent. The donation he made to the orphanage was generous indeed.’

Delphine was genuinely surprised to hear this. When he had offered her payment for her services and she had suggested he make a donation to the orphanage, she had truly thought he would ignore her request. ‘I had no idea—although I’m ashamed when I think of the way it came about.’

‘Don’t be. It is done and life goes on.’ Celia gave her a final embrace. ‘Now you must go. You have a long journey ahead of you. Promise to write to me as soon as you get to Cornwall. I want to know all about your new home.’

‘I will, I promise—and please send me all the news about the children. You will keep a watch over Maisie, won’t you, Aunt Celia?’

‘I shall.’

‘And if anything should happen—if you have cause to feel concern for her safety—you will let me know.’

‘Yes. Now go along with you. I’m sure there are some poor souls in Cornwall in need of your care, Delphine.’

Delphine was hard put to restrain herself. Her throat was sore and her chest tight. She said goodbye to her sisters and her stony-faced parents. There was no appeal she could make. They did not touch her or tell her that they loved her. She turned aside hastily and strode away, for her husband awaited her in front of the house.

Inside the confines of the coach she felt miserable and alone. Her eyes stung as they left London behind. So much was bottled up inside her; now it seemed too much. It was choking her. She was a tight bubble of misery being squeezed and ready to burst at any time, but she would remain intact. She would weep no more.

The coach made good speed. Appearing to loathe the prospect of being alone with Delphine in the coach, Stephen, preferring to accompany Mr Oakley on horseback, was mounted on a huge black beast, its glossy black coat gleaming with every ripple of its muscles.

The coach rattled into the cobbled yard of a coaching inn where they were to spend the night. Stephen dismounted and, with an imperious edge to his voice, instructed the driver to be ready to travel at half past eight the next morning before handing the reins of his horse to a groom.