The Inconvenient Elmswood Marriage

‘Then perhaps you’ll take yourself off again once you’re rid of me?’

‘My life is here, Daniel. It’s why you married me—to ensure that Elmswood is fit for its future heir. Though who that is to be now that poor little Diarmuid is no more…’

‘The boy died almost ten years ago and neither of us ever met him.’ He hadn’t meant to sound so harsh, but it was true, and Kate had no reason to look so—so hurt! Daniel drained his coffee. ‘The terms or our marriage didn’t require you to regard Elmswood as the limit of your world, you know,’ he said more mildly. ‘You’ve been away a few months…’

‘Nine, actually.’

‘Nine! What the devil…?’ Far longer than he had imagined. ‘Well, the place doesn’t look as if it has suffered much during your enforced absence.’

‘That is because before my “enforced absence” it was running extremely efficiently, largely thanks to Estelle. Though how you are able to comment at all is beyond me, unless you’ve been wandering about the estate in the middle of the night.’ Kate gave an impatient sigh. ‘Sorry, I don’t know why I’m so edgy—it’s not like me. Would you like a biscuit?’

Daniel took one, because it was easier than refusing and because it was clearly a peace offering—though he wasn’t sure he deserved one. Taking a small bite, he discovered to his surprise that it was actually very good.

‘One of Phoebe’s recipes,’ Kate said. ‘Phoebe is—’

‘Despite what you might think, I do note your updates on all my nieces’ progress. Phoebe is the youngest, and the one who is currently in Paris, with aspirations to become a chef.’

‘Not any longer. She’s in London, not Paris, she has opened her own restaurant and she is married.’

‘Married! Wasn’t the whole point of my eldest niece’s marriage…?’

‘Eloise, to Alexander.’

‘I am aware, Kate. I set that match up, if you recall.’

‘What I recall is that you almost never replied to my letters.’

‘It doesn’t mean I wasn’t aware of what was going on in your life—or at least what you told me of it.’

‘I told you about as much as you were interested to know. Which was not very much.’

‘You knew how little I was interested in the estate itself when we met. It was the reason we married.’

Kate set down her cup and folded her hands primly on her lap. ‘Yes, it was.’

Daniel refrained with difficulty from rolling his eyes. There was an essay in reprimand in those three words. ‘I’m not going to pretend an interest now. I won’t be here for long.’

‘You won’t be properly well for at least a month, more likely three.’

‘I am damned if I’ll stay marooned in this place for three months.’

‘Why not? You could take the time to get to know Elmswood a little. You might even come to appreciate it. It is your home after all, Daniel.’

‘Once and for all, this place is not my home and never will be! I hate the very—’

Daniel bit his tongue, taken aback himself by his tone. He needn’t panic. No one was going to force him to remain here permanently. It wasn’t like him to snap. He was not usually so irrational. It was his illness making him weak, that was all.

‘This is more your home than mine,’ he said through gritted teeth. ‘You are doing an excellent job of filling your father’s shoes. I will concentrate on getting fit to return to active service, and it won’t take me three months, I assure you.’

‘Perhaps not.’ She picked up the coffee pot to refresh their cups. ‘Though I imagine that Sir Marcus will also have a say in how long you remain here, since it was on his orders that you came in the first place. Do you really think we should expect him imminently?’

He was surprised the man hadn’t been waiting on the dock at Portsmouth, but Daniel wasn’t about to say that to Kate. His memories of his planned escape were still hazy, but the events leading up to his capture were etched in his mind. That life—the life he’d been leading for the last five years, the life that he’d worked so damned hard to establish—was over. The man he’d been was no more, and yet he couldn’t get to grips with that—for he was that man, and he was still here, wasn’t he?

Kate was eyeing him quizzically. She was waiting for an answer, he realised, though he couldn’t remember what the question had been. This woman was his wife. As far as she was concerned he was Daniel Fairfax. She had no idea of the many other men he’d been required to be in his life—so many that right at this moment he wondered if he knew how to be himself. And he was her husband. He’d never played a husband before. He wasn’t sure he would relish playing it for any extended period, but for now…? Behind that diminutive, and extremely attractive façade there was a very strong and determined woman. A brave one, whom he suspected would give as good as she got.

Daniel managed a smile. ‘Shall we call a truce? You’re right. I’m here now, and there’s no point in my constantly lamenting the fact.’

She narrowed her eyes. ‘What will you do instead? I don’t know you very well, but I do know you’re not the type of man to sit about patiently and wait to be told what your next move will be.’

Daniel laughed. ‘Don’t worry. I meant what I said when I promised I wouldn’t interfere or stand on your toes. We’ve been married ten years, yet we’re to all intents and purposes complete strangers. Don’t you think it’s time we got to know each other?’

‘It was eleven years last month, actually—and don’t you think it would be a better use of your time to get to know your nieces instead? You’re their closest blood relative, Daniel, and you’ve never met them. Eloise has just had a baby—a little girl—I only found out this morning. We could—’

‘No.’ Daniel’s smile faded. He heaved himself to his feet. ‘I can tell by your expression that’s not what you want to hear, but I see no point at all in meeting any of them.’

‘Why ever not? I know they would very much like to meet you, and will be devastated if you shun them.’

‘No! I have not the time to involve myself in their lives…’

‘Not even to write them the occasional letter?’

‘Even if I had the time I have not the inclination.’ His words would hurt her, and he regretted that, but it was better that than give rise to expectations he could never meet.

‘Are you seriously saying that you don’t want to meet your nieces at all?’ Kate said now, looking outraged. ‘Never?’

He reminded himself that to all intents and purposes they were her children, and just for a moment considered whether he should do as she wanted. Gillian’s daughters were no longer girls, but young women with lives of their own. Did they look like his sister? She’d been a beauty. A selfish, utterly self-centred beauty, with no interest in anyone, and especially not her much younger brother.

He’d gleaned enough from Kate’s letters to know that her daughters had not inherited her capricious nature. Kate’s doing, no doubt. They were Kate’s girls, and that was how they must remain. He couldn’t risk acquiring any fresh emotional attachment. Recent events had provided a bitter lesson in the folly of displaying that weakness.

‘What would be the point?’ he said, more gently. ‘They won’t see me again, and it would be cruel to risk any sort of attachment or raise expectations. Best I remain faceless to them.’

‘You mean it’s best that they remain faceless to you,’ she snapped. ‘You’ve never given a damn about them, have you? When we married you told me you had a nephew, but you didn’t think to mention that your long-lost sister had already given birth to three girls.’

‘I didn’t think they were relevant. I certainly did not envisage that within two years they’d be orphaned and homeless, and I don’t know what the hell I’d have done about either if you hadn’t been here to step into the breach.’

‘I’m eternally grateful that I was in a position to do so.’

‘I believe you—though at the time I confess I had serious misgivings about burdening you with them.’

‘I remember. You said that you’d get your lawyer to find someone to take them on. As if I would dream of doing anything other than taking them in. I’ve often said if we had not already been married I would have married you for that reason alone. And I have never,’ Kate said vehemently, ‘told the girls that you considered any other outcome.’

‘Thus awarding me a great deal more credit than I deserve. I am sorry, Kate, but I won’t be swayed.’

‘Aren’t you even curious to see how the marriage you arranged turned out? You say you know nothing of the girls, but you gleaned enough from my letters to know that Alexander and Eloise would suit very well.’

‘I don’t respond to emotional blackmail, you know.’

Kate flinched. ‘You’re right, that was unworthy of me.’