Desperate Measures (Regency Undone) (4 page)

BOOK: Desperate Measures (Regency Undone)
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He watched as Isabelle licked her lips; then cleared her throat.  Her expression was once again that cool mask she wore so well.  If it hadn
’t been for her slightly heightened colour, he would not have suspected that their kiss had affected her at all. 


Very prettily done my dears.  Thank you for indulging an old woman.’

Guy looked over at his mother.  Was it his imagination or did she sound weaker? 

‘You are not old mother,’ he said warmly, moving swiftly back to the bed and drawing Isabelle with him.  ‘It is just a shame that we were not able to share our news with you before your attack.  But you know how private I have become and Isabelle has been leading me a merry dance until very recently.  We will leave you now to get some rest.  The doctor is here and I am downstairs if you have need of me.  I will come back to see you again in a little while.’

Downstairs, Guy lead Isabelle into the dining room, where cold meats and salads were laid out on the table in readiness for luncheon. 

‘You will stay for lunch?  That way we can talk about how best we can handle the situation we find ourselves in - and afterwards I will arrange for my carriage to take you back to Avalon Hall.

 

Isabelle said nothing as the footman pulled out her chair and she took her seat.  She was still recovering from the unexpectedness of that kiss; which was why it had affected her so strangely, she decided - because it had been
unexpected
and she had been unable to prepare herself for it

Even now her lips tingled strangely and she could not decide whether it was a pleasant feeling or not.   It was certainly unsettling.


I’m sorry to have put you in such a position,’ Guy said carefully, looking at her across the table.  His expression was once again that cool, dispassionate regard she had begun to associate with him.  It was hard to imagine him smiling at her as he had done so fleetingly, or exhibiting the warmth he had displayed to his mother.

She met his look with a composure she was far from feeling and shrugged. 
‘I admit your proposition took me by surprise and I can’t help worrying now that perhaps we were a little hasty in our decision making.’  She took a deep breath, knowing that it needed to be said.

‘Please rest assured that when your mother … passes, there is no need for you to concern yourself with my welfare.  I am perfectly able to see to myself and I would feel embarrassed inflicting my problems onto a person I barely know.’


We made a bargain Isabelle and a Rotherham does not renege on his word.’


That is kind of you.  But I reiterate, it is not necessary.  No-one is aware of what has occurred here today-’


I am aware.  And I will not break my word.’


Really, Your Grac
e
…’

‘Do you not think you should practice calling me by my given name, considering we are engaged?’

She looked at him crossly, losing some of her composure.
‘We are not engaged as you well know.  Not properly.’ 


Yes we are.  Make no mistake.  Until such time as my mother passes, that is exactly what we are.  Far be it from me to wish my mother harm but she has suffered from a heart condition for some years now and the doctor has told me that the heart attack she suffered was severe and has weakened her considerably.  There is also a very real danger of a second, more serious attack occurring in the course of the next forty eight hours which could prove fatal.  I will not lie to her and therefore Isabelle, for the next couple of days at least, please accept that we are affianced.  However, in order to make it easier to extricate ourselves when the time comes, I suggest we keep our arrangement entirely between ourselves.  Are you agreeable to that?’


Oh yes, absolutely. Please rest assured that I will make no mention of it to anyone.’

 

Her agreement was so vehement as to be almost comical, Guy thought.  He could not think of many women in her situation who would not be jumping at the chance of becoming the next Duchess of Rotherham.    He found himself beginning to feel somewhat intrigued by Lady Isabelle Pennington; a sensation that afforded him some degree of irritability.  She was not his type at all, with her auburn coloured hair (a sure sign of temper if ever there was one) and curvy form.  Granted, she was strikingly attractive if you went for the cool, disdainful type - and her green eyes were particularly fine - but personally he liked his women slender as a wreath with an accommodating nature that gave generously without expecting too much back.  He had the strong feeling that Isabelle Pennington would give nothing of herself and any relationship would be extremely one sided. 

Not dissimilar to himself in fact, it occurred to him.

CHAPTER THREE

 


Engaged!  I cannot believe you are marrying Guy and you never even told us.’

Sophia looked at her friend in absolute astonishment.


Ssh … please Sophia.  Keep your voice down or someone will hear.  Oh dear, I am in such a quandary.  I don’t know what to do.’

Isabelle paced up and down the room, her hands twisting in agitation. 
‘He is coming here this morning to hear my decision.’


But it is
obvious
what you must do.  You must accept of course.  It is the perfect solution to your situation.  And to think you will be living only a few miles away from me.  How marvelous will that be?’


Oh Sophia, you do not understand.  I do not wish to be married again.  Ever.  I would never have agreed to the pretence had I thought for one moment that the Dowager might survive.  Not that I wish her dead of course, but the Duke assured me she would not live above a couple of days and that after that we could go our separate ways and no-one would be any the wiser.  But now - not only is she improving by the day but she has also shared the news of our engagement with her sister and her cousins. There is no way of stopping the news from spreading.  It is a disaster.  And Guy is adamant that the only way out now is for us to marry.’

Her eyes filled with tears. 
‘But I do not want to marry again,’ she repeated.  ‘There
must
be another way.’ 


But Isi, surely if you stop to think, you will realise that it would not be such a bad thing to be wedded to Guy?  I own he is not the most congenial of men; and indeed when first I met him I thought him the most disagreeable of creatures and absolutely terrifying to boot, but it did not take me long to realise that his manner was something of a front.  His marriage was not a happy one you know and he is a complicated character; but Ralph is extremely fond of him and says he could not wish for a finer friend or cousin, and that his sense of honour is second to none.  He may not be the most
jovial
of characters my love but I am convinced he would be nowhere near as awful as your first husband.  And think of the security you would have.’

A loud rap on the front door startled them both. 

‘It is him,’ Isabelle whispered fearfully.  ‘Oh, what shall I say?’


Hear him out,’ her friend advised sagely.  ‘Then make your decision as you think fit.  But really my love, do not cast him over lightly.  Just think of the many advantages you would acquire by becoming the Duchess of Rotherham.’


His Grace, the Duke of Rotherham…’
the butler announced from the door.

Isabelle spun round, her eyes settling on the stern countenance she had come to recognise so well over the past couple of weeks.  He was looking particularly impressive today - his
fine Hessian boots so shiny one could almost see one’s reflection in them.  She waited as he greeted Sophia politely and then felt the colour tinge her cheeks as that steady regard settled upon her features.


You are well, I trust, Isabelle?’


Yes thank you, Your Grace.’


Good I am pleased to hear it.  I wonder Sophia, could I beg a private audience with your friend?  I will not keep her long.’

Sophia looked to Isabelle, then smiled. 
‘I shall arrange for some liquid refreshment to be brought to the morning room for when you are both done, and I will wait for you there.’

‘You have thought about my offer?’ Guy said, once the door was closed behind her. 

Isabelle held herself stiffly as she met his look. 
‘I have, Your Grace, but I cannot think it right that we should marry.  We are both well aware that that was not the original intention of our agreement.  Indeed I would never have consented to the pretence of an Engagement had I thought there was the slightest possibility of that happening.  And neither, I think, would you.  We both acted under    pressure and neither of us should be held to account for our responses at that time.  I know you feel a certain obligation to me on that score, and I appreciate the chivalry of your sentiments, but let me assure you that is not necessary.  I have no desire to remarry – indeed I actively wish
not
to do so.’


Why is your fear of marriage so strong, Isabelle?’

His words took her by surprise and she blinked at him, the shutters coming down instantly.

‘You are mistaken, Sir.  I fear nothing.’ she said coldly.  ‘I simply do not wish to have my life run by a man ever again.’


And what if I were to promise you that I would not interfere in the way you lived your life?  That you would be free to run the household as you pleased without interference from me?  Would you consider it a fate worse than death to be the Countess of Rotherham in those circumstances?  Would you really prefer the life of a glorified servant?’

She looked at him uncertainly, wishing he did not have quite
such a propinquity for hitting the nail on the head.  Of course she would prefer such a life.  What woman wouldn’t?  But marriage?  And all that entailed?

Before she was aware of his intentions he had crossed the room and was taking her hands firmly in his, his expression grave. 

‘I am not so stupid Isabelle that I do not recognise the scars of a bad marriage when I see them.  I met your husband once and I can only begin to imagine what life with him might have been like.  I too had problems within my marriage but I can assure you they did not arise out of me mistreating my wife or subjecting her to the sort of things a wife should not be subjected to.  I do not claim to be perfect – I am a hard-hearted, unemotional man as my first wife was frequent to point out.  But I can promise you, though I might be short tempered at times, I would never abuse or treat you with anything other than the respect that would be due to you as my wife.  Neither of us were to foresee that my mother would survive her heart condition – for which I am naturally very grateful – and now that she has spread the news of our engagement further afield it will be virtually impossible for us to quietly disengage ourselves.  That is my fault and it is my duty to redress the situation.  However, my reasons are not altogether altruistic.  Quite selfishly, I observe that my mother has grown fond of you this past couple of weeks, as has my son, and I am also coming to see the benefits of being affianced with regards the over-keen prospective mama-in-laws who would have me pair up with their daughters at nearly every social function I attend.  Acquiring a wife would have its advantages for me also, so you would not be the only one benefiting from such an arrangement.  I ask you again, Isabelle.  Will you do me the honour of accepting my hand in marriage?’

It had been a long speech and listening to him Isabelle found herself thinking she could get used to that voice in time; could quite imagine listening to it with something akin to pleasure as they sat sharing the happenings of the day over supper.  Her hands were still resting in his and she was     astonished to discover that she did not seem to mind; did not feel the dreaded sense of claustrophobia she had come to associate with her husband
’s touch every time he had reached for her. 

Frowning, she disengaged her fingers and returned his look.  If she was to seriously consider his proposal
– and she
was
considering it, she realised – then there was one matter that needed to be clarified before they took a single step further down this path.  It would not be an easy discussion but she needed to know his intentions before she came to any decision.

She tried to maintain her air of diffidence as she asked the question. 
‘And what would you expect with regards our marital relations?’

He looked taken aback. 
‘Marital relations?

He raised his eyebrow in such a way as to make her colour deepen.


Yes.’  She cleared her throat.  ‘I -’


Perhaps I should make it quite clear that the one thing I will not tolerate is unfaithfulness.’


Oh.’


Am I to assume from that, that fidelity is something you would have a problem with?’


No.

 
She looked shocked.  ‘I can assure you I have no desire to have … relations with anyone.’


Good, because I have to own that having one unfaithful wife who runs off leaving behind a motherless child is about as much as any man can deal with in his lifetime.  So, whilst we are on the subject, are you also saying that you have a problem with the thought of having sex with me?’

She was most annoyed to feel the colour deepening even more in her cheeks. 
That he should be so direct. 
But she would not let him see that he had discomfited her.  ‘I will admit that my personal preference would be
not
to indulge in such practices,’ she said stiffly.  She had put up with nearly six years of her husband’s abuse.  She had learned very well how to shut her feelings down whenever he came near her, move into a parallel world where she disconnected from him whilst he indulged his obscene fantasies.  But she had thought all that was behind her.  She had no intention of willingly going back to that situation again.  ‘And in any case, there is one more thing you should probably be aware of,’ she added quickly, knowing this could be an end to the matter before it had even begun.


Yes?’

She took a deep breath. 
‘I was married for over five years, and in that time I was not made with child.  My husband took me to a doctor in London who specialises in such things.  It was his expert opinion that I am unable to conceive. So if you desire a sexual relationship to provide you with more children, then I am certainly not the wife for you.’


That is of no consequence.  I have Charles.’


But surely …’

Guy
’s expression was closed.  ‘I made the mistake once of bringing a child into a loveless marriage and I have seen the pain that causes.  In fact it comes as a relief to me that you are barren.  I would have been immensely careful to make sure we did
not
conceive any children.’

Barren! 
Up until now she had never considered herself in those terms.  She turned away from him to stare out of the window so that he should not see the affect his words had on her.  But at least that meant there was no need for them to consummate their marriage.  Guy could keep his mistress and all would be well.

There was silence between them for a long moment.  Then she was aware of his hand reaching out to turn her around to face him.

He eyed her steadily.  ‘So, Isabelle.  If there are no other obstacles that remain in your way to be tackled, I ask you again.  Will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?’

She made the mistake of returning his gaze, looking into the clear grey of his eyes as if she might understand what governed him.  They were sombre as they always were; yet they held a hint of
something
she could not put her finger on.  Almost as if he could see into the workings of her mind and understood the shadows that lurked there.


I think at this stage, a simple yes or no will do,’ he added lightly.  And was that a
twinkle
in his eye? 

Whatever it was, and however brief its duration, astonishingly it calmed her nerves and settled the matter for her.  There would be issues to resolve she knew, but realistically it was all very well having principles but where would they get her?  They certainly would not feed and clothe her for the rest of her days.   As Isabelle had intimated, she would be mad to turn down such an opportunity. 

The sense that she was letting herself down was nudged firmly aside; it was after all, no more than countless other women had done before her.

  Her expression softened as just briefly, the image of Guy
’s son Charles, drifted into her mind.  He was a delightful little boy and her heart had gone out to him over the last couple of weeks, but she sensed a distance between him and his father that had disturbed her.  He was so obviously crying out for some love and attention - something that maybe
she
could give to him.  She found herself drawn by the prospect - after all she would have no children of her own to care for.

The thought fired her imagination but she dampened it down, forcing herself instead to consider the somewhat curmudgeonly man she would be spending the rest of her life with.  Whilst she could not exactly say she liked him, even she could sense that he was not at all
like her first husband.  His sense of honour for example was unquestionable.  Did she feel she could put her trust in such a man?

Evidently she did for she was shocked to hear herself saying quite coolly.

‘In that case Your Grace, I am inclined to accept your offer.  Thank you.’

He looked surprised, as if he had not expected that outcome.  His customary sober expression was replaced by a brief, warm smile tha
t
transformed his face as he squeezed her hand and released it.  ‘Good.  I am glad of that.  Now we have got all of that out of the way, let us go share our news with our two closest friends.’

BOOK: Desperate Measures (Regency Undone)
5.79Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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