The Earl's Inconvenient Wife

Wasn’t gaining her independence what she wanted, though? She tried to rally herself. She’d still have Gregory and Christopher, Gifford’s special friendship and could look forward to playing the proud aunt to Pru’s eventual children. Doubtless somewhere in her family tree she could find some indigent female relation who would prove both congenial and willing to live with her.

As an independent woman, she’d be able to attend the lectures that interested her, visit the shops and galleries, and—her greatest ambition—work towards equipping herself to travel to the fascinating foreign places she’d read so much about. Foreign places where she could immerse herself in history and culture while she sought out treasures for her father. Where she could be herself, free of the stifling restrictions society imposed over women of her class. And, most important, having escaped the threating spectre of marriage, she might even manage some day to free herself from the dark shadows of her past.

All she need do to attain those goals was make it through one Season.

* * *

After ringing for the footman to collect the tea tray, she’d been about to go upstairs when a commotion at the front door announced the arrival of Aunt Gussie.

‘Darling Temperance!’ Lady Stoneway cried, handing her cloak over to a footman and coming over to hug her. ‘How lovely you look!’

‘You are looking in fine fettle, too, Aunt Gussie! The prospect of a sojourn in Bath obviously agrees with you.’

‘I am looking forward to it,’ her aunt allowed, joining Temperance to mount the stairs. ‘Are you sure you won’t come with us? Pru is going to miss your company—and your support—so very much! And I will, too.’

Dismissing a pang of longing, Temperance said firmly, ‘No, I shall stay here. Not that I’m not grateful for your offer, but...I simply won’t turn tail and flee, just because some idiots created a scandal that was not in any way Mama’s fault.’ Nor am I interested in going where I might encounter a gentleman admirable enough that you and Pru would try to persuade me to marry him.

Her aunt sighed. ‘It is unfair, I admit. To your mama, as well as to you and Pru. But truly, my dear, in Bath we will have a fair chance of avoiding most of the scandal, finally allowing the two of you an opportunity to be courted, find a worthy gentleman to marry and settle down happily in your own households!’

‘That’s Pru’s hope, not mine,’ Temper reminded her aunt.

Lady Stoneway shook her head. ‘Still dreaming of travel to some faraway place? I thought you would outgrow that foolish wish.’

‘I haven’t, for all that the wish might be foolish. However, though I couldn’t convince Papa to allow me my dowry without having a Season, perhaps after it turns disastrous and he realises marriage to anyone save a fortune-hunting scoundrel is impossible, he will relent.’ For I’m highly unlikely, Papa, to encounter a true gentleman who wants to ‘protect’ me. Not if he knew the whole truth...

‘I’m not at all convinced it need be disastrous,’ Lady Stoneway protested. ‘So, you’re going to wait for London next year after all?’

‘Oh, no. As I told you when the scandal first broke, if I must debut, I intend to do so here, in London, just as we planned.’

Lady Stoneway stopped short, turning to look at Temper in astonishment. ‘You intend to attempt a Season this year? In London?’

‘Yes—if I can find a sponsor. But you mustn’t even think of changing your plans! Pru is eager to marry and I fully agree her chances of finding a respectable partner will be far better in Bath. Whereas, since I don’t wish to marry, it makes no difference to me that having a London Season now will likely produce...disappointing results. In fact, if it’s truly bad, I might be able to convince Papa to let me abandon the effort after a month or so. But please, no more talk of that now. I haven’t told Pru—she might feel obligated to change her plans and stay here to support me, which is the very last thing I want. She’s been waiting so long for the kind husband and happy family she’s always dreamed of! I don’t want to delay her finding that even a day longer.’

‘But who will sponsor you—?’ her aunt began, before, at Temper’s warning look, she cut the sentence short as Prudence ran out into the hallway to meet them.

‘Welcome, Aunt Gussie! I’m all packed, so we may to leave as soon as you’ve rested and refreshed yourself.’

Giving Temperance a speaking glance, Lady Stoneway said, ‘Ring for some tea and after that, I’ll be ready. I’ve already instructed Overton to send some footmen up to collect your trunks. I suppose I should look in on my brother—though if he’s in one of his collecting moods, he may not notice I’m in the room.’

‘You could stop by, but he just got a new shipment of weapons and is fully engaged in cataloguing them,’ Temper warned.

Lady Stoneway shook her head. ‘I won’t bother, then. Shall we have tea with your mother?’

Her smile fading, Pru shook her head. ‘Knowing you would arrive at any moment, I’ve already bid her goodbye. Let’s have tea in my room.’

‘I’ll fetch Gregory,’ Temper said. ‘We can have a pleasant family coze before you two head on your way.’

‘I should like that!’ Prudence said, coming over to link her arm with Temper’s. ‘I am going to miss you very much, dear sister.’

‘And I, you,’ Temper acknowledged with another pang. Especially since, after your sojourn in Bath, I shall probably lose for ever my best and closest friend. Shaking off that melancholy thought, she said, ‘But how exciting, to send you off into the future! I hope this Season will end with you finding the man of your dreams.’

‘I second that happy wish—for you both,’ Lady Stoneway said, giving Temper a pointed glance as she ushered both girls into their bedchamber.

* * *

An hour later, after bidding the travellers goodbye, Temper walked back upstairs. Already the house seemed echoing and empty, now that the serene, optimistic spirit of her sister had left it.

Needing to stave off those unhappy thoughts, she decided to look in on her mama, who, she suspected, might be feeling a bit low. With a loyal maid who kept her appraised of everything happening in the household, she could not help but know that her precious daughter Pru, about to leave her house, most likely never to live in it again, had declined to invite her to her farewell tea.

Temperance could understand her sister’s bitterness towards the mother whose profligate behaviour had spilled over to poison their lives. But she also understood how a woman’s mere appearance led to assumptions, attack and uninvited abuse.

And knowing her papa, she could completely understand why a woman as vivacious, outgoing and passionate as her mother, denied affection and even basic interaction with her husband, would in desperation have sought it elsewhere.

After knocking lightly on the door, she walked in—to find her mama lounging on her sofa by the window, draped in one of her favourite diaphanous, lace-trimmed negligées. Temper had never seen the inside of a bordello, but she couldn’t imagine even the loveliest denizen of such a place looking more beautiful and seductive than her mother.

Smiling at the picture Lady Vraux presented, she walked over to drop a kiss on that artful arrangement of blonde curls.

‘Temperance!’ her mother said in surprise, delight on her face as she turned from the window and saw her daughter—but not before Temper noticed the bleak expression the smile had chased away. ‘I’d call for tea, but I expect by now you’re awash in it. The travellers are off, I imagine.’

So she did know she’d been excluded, Temper thought with a wave of sympathy for her mama. Pru’s resentment might be justly earned—but that wouldn’t make the estrangement any less bitter for a mother who, Temper knew, truly loved her children.

‘Gussie couldn’t talk you into going with them?’ Lady Vraux asked as she patted the sofa, inviting Temper to take a seat beside her.

Temper gave a dramatic shudder. ‘To Bath? To drink the vile waters and be ogled by old men? I think not.’

‘So what do you intend? I very much doubt Vraux will release your dowry. Christopher, then Gregory, stopped by to visit this morning and told me you intended to approach him.’

‘I did and you are right. He won’t release it to me.’

Lady Vraux rubbed Temper’s hand. ‘I’m sorry, my darling. If I had any money of my own, you’d be welcome to it.’ She gave a bitter laugh. ‘Unfortunately, I never had a feather to fly with, which is how I ended up married to Vraux in the first place.’

Her mother’s family had been noble but penniless, Temper knew. The wealthy Lord Vraux’s offer to settle the Portmans’ debts in exchange for their Incomparable daughter’s hand had been a bargain they would not let her refuse. No matter how cold, impersonal and unapproachable the character of the baron who’d made the offer.

‘So you’ll go forward with a Season?’ Concern, regret and sadness succeeded the smile on her face. ‘I would advise against it, my sweet. Not this year. Gussie is quite right in assessing your chances of success to be minimal after the Farnham-Hallsworthy fiasco.’

Dropping Temper’s hand, she turned away. ‘I... I am sorry about that. You do know I did nothing to encourage them! I haven’t taken a new lover for more than five years, just as I promised. And I was hopeful that Gussie, with her standing and influence, could smooth a path for the two of you despite...despite your unfortunate parentage.’

Temper gathered her mother’s hand again. ‘I know, Mama. I don’t blame you for the idiocy of men.’

‘Pru does, though.’

Temper was trying to find some palliative for that unfortunate truth when her mother continued, ‘I’ve earned whatever infamy I bear, and as Miss Austen’s Mary observes, “the loss of virtue in a female is irretrievable”. But I hate that it continues to reflect upon you.’

‘It doesn’t matter for me. Unlike Pru, I have no desire to wed. But if Papa will not allow me to do anything else until I’ve had a Season, then I intend to get it over with. I expect it will be a noteworthy failure—indeed, I hope it is, the better to convince him a good marriage is impossible and get him to release my dowry.’

‘There’s no guarantee he will do so, even if your Season is unsuccessful,’ her mother pointed out.

That was the one great flaw in her plan, she had to admit. ‘True. But if I tell him I intend to journey to whatever place offers the treasure he is currently most interested in acquiring, so I may procure for him exactly what he wants, I might persuade him. You know he thinks of nothing but obtaining the latest object that catches his fancy.’