The Foundling Bride

Marcus gazed at her from beneath his lowered eyes. He could see how tense she was, and that her eyes were shining with a pain he wondered at. He was touched, despite himself, by her youth—and also by some private scruples. Whatever the truth of the matter, she still had a virtuous innocence and a warm femininity that touched a deep chord inside him.

‘Enough. Enough of this for now. The hour is late and it is not the time.’

‘Enough, you say? How dare you be so judgemental? You have been away a long time and know nothing of what has been happening in my life. I find your inquisitorial and aggressive manner both unreasonable and unacceptable. You are playing the role of an outraged father whose honour has been besmirched a little too well for my liking—casting accusations and demanding explanations. A lot has happened to me in your absence. I am no longer the complaisant, naïve, pathetic young girl you remember.’

‘You were many things, Lowena, but you were never pathetic,’ he countered softly.

She stared at him, momentarily thrown by the sudden softening in his eyes. ‘Oh—thank you. But you see I am my own person now, and I answer to no one.’

Looking at the tempestuous young woman standing before him, her eyes flashing like angry jewels and her breasts rising and falling with suppressed emotion, Marcus felt a stirring of reluctant admiration for her courage and daring to speak out so plainly.

‘Thank you for that edifying piece of information.’

‘Think nothing of it,’ she retorted.

Drawing a deep, suffocating breath, she fought with all her strength to keep back the tears which had started to her eyes and to ignore a heart beating hard with a mixture of so many emotions that they almost overwhelmed her.

‘Am I to reside at the cottage indefinitely?’ she ventured to ask, when she was confident she could speak calmly. She was bewildered by the night’s events and did not really know what she wanted to do at that moment.

‘For now. I’ll speak to my mother in the morning. Now, come along. The hour is late and I think we could both do with some sleep.’

Clutching her bundle close to her chest, Lowena followed Marcus out of the house and down the drive in the direction of the cottage. She stared at his broad back. Silly, girlish tears pricked her eyes. She blinked and set her mouth in a determined line before they reached the cottage.

They were not surprised to find it in darkness. Marcus hammered on the door and after a few minutes a woman in her night attire, carrying a lighted candle, opened it a crack.

‘Who is it?’ she enquired, clearly afraid that it might be someone up to no good.

‘It’s me, Mrs Seagrove—Lowena,’ she said quickly, in order to allay the housekeeper’s fears. ‘Mr Marcus is with me.’

Mrs Seagrove opened the door to let them in. Marcus quickly explained the situation, and in no time at all Mrs Seagrove was showing them to their rooms. Marcus insisted that he did not want his mother disturbed. Time enough for her to welcome him home in the morning.

Chapter Two (#u995ae361-1c90-5d25-840d-21727ae4d4bd)

The cottage was tucked away within its own hollow, the house and its gardens concealed by a protective planting of beeches. Anyone who had never been to the cottage before would have the impression that the house was a small establishment—and in comparison to Tregarrick it was—but it was of considerable size. It was beautifully proportioned, with large windows looking out onto a terrace and the lovely gardens. Marcus had always been fond of the cottage. His paternal grandmother, whom he had loved dearly, had spent her last days there.

The following morning, Marcus’s mother, Lady Alice Carberry, welcomed him warmly, unashamed of the tears of overwhelming joy and relief that he was safely home at last which filled her eyes as she embraced her son. They sat across from each other as they ate breakfast, and she told Marcus the details of her husband’s heart problem that had resulted in his death. The lingering sadness that shadowed her eyes told him how deeply the loss of her husband affected her, and he knew she would quietly mourn him until the day she died.

Tall and slender, with silver-grey eyes like her son and a shock of dark brown hair streaked with grey, arranged neatly in an array of curls by her maid, Lady Alice led a full and happy life despite her sorrow. She was a woman highly thought of and respected in the area. She was also a strong woman, renowned for her ability to maintain her composure even in times of stress. She had run Tregarrick with precision and with perfect etiquette, demanding perfection from all who worked in the house. She could appear autocratic at times, but this was tempered by the softer side to her nature and her ability to balance the two perfectly.

‘You have seen Edward?’ she asked after a while, knowing the subject of his half-brother could be avoided no longer.

Marcus nodded. ‘Last night. He had no right to turn you out.’

‘Why not? It is his house now. I was thinking of moving out before Isabel died, but—well, it was such a sad time that I put it off.’

Marcus shifted uneasily. He had loved Isabel deeply, and found her betrayal of him with Edward still painful to deal with. He had no wish to discuss it now.

‘I do wonder what will become of Edward,’ Lady Alice said. ‘There is something terrible about him—not only terrible, but merciless and self-destructive, and it will eventually destroy him. Unlike before his marriage, his smuggling is no longer the adventure he was seeking but a distraction. Perhaps from his grief—which is an emotion unknown to him—or from the guilt that chases him...misplaced guilt over Isabel’s death. He blames himself for that. Isabel had told him she was to bear his child. He believes that if he had forbidden her to ride with the hunt things might have been different.’

Marcus’s reply was abrupt. ‘Isabel was headstrong. She would have found a way to defy him.’

‘Yes, I think you’re right. It saddens me when I think how Edward has always resented me for marrying his father. And I regret to say nothing has changed. It was best that I came to live in the cottage.’

‘But Father made provision for you to remain at Tregarrick until your death.’

‘I know, but I will not live in a house where I am not wanted.’ She smiled. ‘Try not to worry about me, Marcus. The cottage is a lovely house. Your grandmother lived here when your grandfather died and your father brought Edward’s mother as a bride to Tregarrick. That is what it is for—to house the dowager mistress of Tregarrick when a new bride arrives. I have always loved this house and I am quite content living here. It will be even better now that you’re home. I also gave some thought to you and what would be best when you came back. The two of you are better apart.’

‘I have to agree, but I wish things could have been different.’

‘So do I. Edward’s behaviour towards me and then you hurt your father deeply. But he left you and Juliet well provided for. He was not a frivolous man, and as you know he made shrewd investments in coal mining in the North and banking in London. He died an extremely wealthy man.’

‘Nevertheless, Edward deeply resents the fact that Father left me the mine.’

‘It’s what you always wanted. You won’t mind living here, will you, Marcus? When I have gone to London you will have the cottage to yourself.’

‘You are going to stay with Juliet?’

‘Your sister is always asking me to go to her. I miss Juliet and the little ones. I would ask you to come with me, but I know you have no liking for the city.’

His mother was right. London held no delights for him, but he was impatient to see his sister. They had always been close. Now she was married to Lord Simon Mallory and had left Cornwall to live in London. They had two children Marcus had not yet seen. He was impatient to rectify this.

‘You are right. London is not for me, but I would dearly like to see Juliet again. I will consider accompanying you—although if we are going then we must do so soon if we are to return to Cornwall before winter sets in. The roads—which are bad at the best of times in Cornwall—will become unpassable. I hope you don’t mind Lowena coming to the cottage too?’

‘Not at all. There’s always room for another pair of hands in the house.’ She gave Marcus a thoughtful look. ‘According to Mrs Seagrove, you didn’t arrive until the middle of the night. What made you bring Lowena with you?’

‘You may not know about it, but last night there was a smugglers’ run. Edward had her on the clifftop, manning the beacon, and I came across her. Edward also has an eye for her. I thought she would be safer here at the cottage with you.’

‘Oh, dear!’ Lady Alice said, deeply troubled to hear this. ‘I didn’t know—but then her duties are as a kitchen maid, so I rarely see her. Tregarrick is large, and we have such a large number of servants it’s difficult keeping track of them all. I leave that to the housekeeper. Edward has his own ideas, and it suits his needs as a gentleman to employ a large number of staff.’

‘It is also common practice for the gentry to take advantage of young women in their employ. My brother is no different—but why must he cast his eye on Lowena, who is little more than a girl?’

Lady Alice laughed softly. ‘If you think that then your eyesight is sadly impaired, Marcus. Lowena is a beautiful young woman.’

‘She is also a rare jewel and quite unique—as Izzy was always telling me.’

Marcus fell silent, recalling the night before and how Lowena had so boldly stood her ground and spoken her mind. Marcus cursed beneath his breath as he realised what those impressions had extracted from him—admiration and desire.

His awareness of the latter left him both outraged with himself and shaken by its swift encroachment on his life at a time when he had vowed never to become enamoured by another woman. But, try as he might to dismiss them, those thoughts gave birth to an impractical possibility that he would not let himself consider just then—for to do so would unleash the pain and heartache he had locked away when Isabel had betrayed him with Edward.

But he would not allow himself to think for another moment that the young girl he had teased and laughed with, who had enchanted and amused him, was romantically entangled with Edward. Such an idea was insane. It was obscene. He would not believe it—because he couldn’t bear to believe it.

But if there was no truth in it then why had she not come right out and said so?

‘When I said she is a girl,’ he went on, ‘what I really meant was that she is a child compared to Edward and his vast experience with women.’

‘Then we must keep an eye on her and keep her away from him.’

‘Yes, I intend to do just that. Much as I applaud Edward for his good taste, I can’t help thinking that if we let Lowena find herself in his clutches it would be like feeding her to the wolves.’