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Authors: Mary Nichols

Tags: #Romance, #General, #Fiction

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BOOK: The Danbury Scandals
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Caroline, who
would not let the matter drop until she had inveigled the details from an irritable
Mark, never lost an opportunity to plague Maryanne about it.

‘You would
think you had been brought up in a whorehouse, not a rectory,’ she said one
morning about a week later, just when Maryanne was beginning to think no more
would be said on the subject. ‘But they say still waters run deep, don’t they?
And the demure ones are the most depraved.’

‘Caroline, that
was uncalled for,’ Mrs Ryfield put in. ‘And it would be better if you did not
talk so freely about it, nor repeat the gossip you hear. After all, no one
outside the family knows Maryanne is involved in the affair, and we must make
sure it stays that way. Maryanne is wanting in conduct, that is true, but it
behoves us to be charitable and I doubt the Reverend Mr Cudlipp taught her how
to behave towards the less respectable gentlemen in Society.’

‘He is not a
gentleman,’ Caroline said. ‘Lady Markham introduced him into Society and must
needs stand by him, though I’ll wager she regrets her generosity. Everyone of
any note will refuse him entry. I certainly hope he will not be at Almack’s on
Wednesday, for I should not be civil to him.’

‘We are
unlikely to meet again,’ Maryanne said, her calm voice belying the misery and
anger she felt; it did not help to have a verbal battle with Caroline, who
could make life unbearable simply by constant and loud repetition of her
supposed grievances. ‘I would as lief forget the whole thing.’

‘If the reason
for the challenge gets out, you will not be allowed to forget and you will not
be invited to any more functions.’ Caroline turned to the mirror to put on her
riding hat with its tall crown and raking feather, for she was off to the park
with Lord Brandon to show off her new habit with its elaborate Polish frogging.
‘You will be cut by everyone and I shall disclaim all connection with you, and
so will Mark, if he has anything in the attic at all. Why Papa has not insisted
on sending you back to Beckford I cannot imagine.’

‘The last thing
I want is to embarrass you,’ Maryanne said. ‘And I would return to Beckford if his
lordship would allow it, but you know he will not. He says if Mark didn’t
prolong the gossip by delaying the race it would all blow over in no time.’

‘You can hardly
have a race through the streets of London when they are so thronged with people
that there is hardly room to walk, let alone drive,’ Caroline said, referring
to the fact that the streets had been almost impassable since the Prince Regent
had entertained his illustrious guests to dinner at the Guildhall, a few days
before, and staged an elaborate procession which had driven the populace wild
with excitement. ‘He has been persuaded to wait until the celebrations die
down.’

‘Why does it
have to be in London? He could arrange it in the country just as easily,’
Maryanne replied.

‘And who would
watch it? Mark needs witnesses to the Frenchman’s defeat, if honour is to be
satisfied. It will be the event of the season and already the wagers are
reaching prodigious proportions.’ She pulled on her gloves and picked up her
crop.

Mrs Ryfield,
torn between accompanying Caroline and leaving Maryanne to her own devices,
sighed and decided her first loyalty was to her brother’s daughter; she went
out to the waiting barouche in which they intended to follow the riders.

Left to
herself, Maryanne went to her room and fetched a book, which she took out into
the garden. She had told herself to forget Adam Saint-Pierre, but how could she
do that when everyone was talking about him, when Caroline grumbled endlessly
about him and Mark could not bring himself to speak to her because of him? On
the one hand, she wanted to clap her hands over her ears so she did not have to
hear what was said about him; on the other, she was hungry for the tiniest
scrap of information, the least morsel which would tell her he was not as black
as he was painted. Her book could not hold her attention and she let it fall in
her lap.

‘Maryanne.’

She looked up
to see Mark approaching her and smiled. She did not like quarrelling with him
and if they could make it up she would feel a great deal better about
everything.

‘I want to talk
to you.’

‘I am
listening, though I hope you are not going to scold. I have had enough of that
from Caroline.’

‘Maryanne...’
He sat down on the bench beside her. ‘I believe what happened was because of
your innocence, your inexperience, and that is something I prize.’ He took her
hand. ‘Tell me that is true, that you didn’t understand what the man was
about.’

‘Oh, I knew
what he was about. He was kissing me.’

He hid his
annoyance. ‘You misunderstand. I mean you did not know the man was a bounder.’

She smiled
wearily. ‘That is still true. I don’t know that he is a bounder, only that you
think he is.’

‘Maryanne! How
can you say that? He put his own honour and your reputation at risk; no
gentleman would have behaved in that fashion.’

‘I am sure it
was done on impulse and meant nothing,’ she said dully. ‘I wish everyone would
not go on about it. I was the victim, after all, not the perpetrator, and that
should have made a difference.’

‘Very little to
Society,’ he said laconically.

‘But I am
assured Society knows nothing of it.’ She was beginning to feel angry with him
for the first time since it had happened. ‘Unless you have said something, or
Caroline, perhaps? Your sister is not always careful of her tongue.’

‘Certainly I
have said nothing and I am sure Caroline has more sense than that. How do you
think a scandal would affect her chances of a good marriage? My concern is that
you seem to treat the matter so lightly.’

‘What do you
expect? Sackcloth and ashes? I have apologised to his lordship and that should
be enough.’ She stood up suddenly. ‘I will not stay to hear any more.’

He stood beside
her and laid a hand on her arm. ‘I am sorry, my dear, I did not mean to
grumble. It is just that whenever I think of him touching you my blood runs hot
and nothing would give me greater pleasure than to put a sword through his
heart.’

‘Why should you
be so angry? What has he done to hurt you?’ Nothing yet, she thought, but in
the future, what of the future? Was Adam Saint-Pierre his enemy? Should she be
concentrating on that and not worrying if she would ever see him again?

‘It is what he
has done to you that matters. I shudder to think of what would have happened if
anyone but me had come into the conservatory and saw what I saw. You would have
been branded a harlot and that didn’t seem to have bothered him in the least.
You can’t possibly think that he cares for you?’ She did not answer and he
persisted. ‘You don’t, do you?’

‘No.’ She spoke
softly, not daring to look into his eyes.

‘Then why,
Maryanne? Why?’

‘I don’t know,
I didn’t think. He said he had something to tell me.’

‘And you
believed him?’

‘Yes.’

He smiled and
took her hand. ‘You silly little goose, what an innocent you are!’

‘Your father says
it will blow over as soon as you have held this race you are planning.’

‘So it might,
and I would have it tomorrow if I could be sure of a clear passage.’

‘You are surely
not intending to race through the streets? If you must indulge in such childish
pursuits, then why not go to Hyde Park?’

‘There is
nothing childish about it, Maryanne, I assure you. And Hyde Park is being
turned into a fairground. Every tavern keeper in London has set up a booth and
moved there lock, stock and barrel. They are building pagodas and temples and
heaven knows what else. There will soon not be a blade of grass to be seen.’ He
paused, then went on, ‘You are turning me aside from my purpose, Maryanne.
Please sit down again and I promise I will not mention the Frenchman.’ He took
her hand and lifted it to his lips. ‘There are more pleasant topics of
conversation.’

‘What do you
want to talk about?’ she asked, as they seated themselves again. ‘Have you read
Pride and Prejudice?’ She tapped the cover of the book she had been reading.
‘It is very good.’

‘No.’ He did
not want to talk about literature either.

‘You should. It
pokes fun at the pomposity of Society in a most amusing way.’

‘Maryanne, I am
trying to propose to you.’

‘Oh.’

‘Don’t pretend
to be surprised. After all, I have mentioned it before.’

‘So you have,
but I did not think you were serious.’

‘I was never
more serious in my life.’

‘Even though I
appear to have disgraced you?’

‘It is not you
who has been disgraced, nor will you be while I can protect you. It is that...’
He saw her open her mouth to speak and stopped her with a finger on her lips.
‘I know, I gave my word not to mention him.’ He moved his finger from her mouth
to her chin to tilt it up so that she was forced to look into his eyes. ‘Tell
me you will marry me. I am eminently suitable, one day I shall be Viscount
Danbury, if nothing higher, and, though I am not exactly plump of pocket, I am
not penniless and Father will see us right. We could go on very well together.’

‘What does his
lordship say about it?’ she asked, avoiding a straight answer.

‘Oh, I think I
can safely say he will give us his blessing, not that you need it. In a few
months’ time you will be twenty-one and may choose whom you please.’

For a moment
her mind left the young man beside her and flew to another who was uncannily
like him in looks but so very different in every other way. Would he have been
her choice? But he had not asked her to make a choice; he had simply kissed
her. She shook herself. That was the most cork-brained thing she had thought of
yet.

‘I have already
told you what I would say,’ she said. ‘Thank you for the honour you do me, but
I need time to think about it.’

‘How much
time?’ He took her hand in his. ‘Please forgive my impatience, but I have been
able to think of nothing else since you came to live with us. My thoughts are
full of you, of a future that is bright and hopeful as May Day blossom.’

She laughed,
wondering why his compliments did not ring so true as Jack Daw’s, why she felt
embarrassed by the one and delighted by the other. ‘And as easily blown away by
a puff of wind.’

‘No, no, for
blossom bears fruit; it endures in that.’

‘Oh, I am to be
a bearer of fruit, am I? I am not at all sure I like that.’

‘You are
teasing me, and all because I am so inept at putting my feelings into words.’

‘That is the
first time you have mentioned feelings.’

‘They are too
deep for easy expression.’ Angry and humiliated, he rose and bowed to her. ‘I
will come back when the influence of Miss Austen has worn off. Good-day, Maryanne.’

She sprang to
her feet and took his arm. ‘I am sorry, truly sorry. It is simply that a
proposal that does not mention love is, to me, not worthy of the name. Oh, I
know many couples exist quite happily without much affection, but, you see, my
father and mother loved each other deeply and, as far as I am concerned, that
is how a marriage should be.’

‘You would be
hard put to exist on love alone,’ he said, picking up her book and tucking her
hand beneath his arm to stroll with her along the path. ‘The necessities of
life demand more than that. I was merely pointing out...’

‘That you have
much in your favour. Yes, I am humbly aware of that, but, you see, it is not
only that I want my husband to love me, I must also be in love with him...’

‘You do not love
me?’

‘I have a very
high regard for you. If it hadn’t been for your kindness when I first came to
Beckford Hall, I don’t think I could have stayed, but my life is so different
from what I expected it to be when I lived at the rectory that I am unsure of
myself.’

He smiled and
there was a light in his eye which could have been relief, but could equally
have been triumph. ‘Do you think it was simply kindness which made me escort
you back to the ballroom and dance with you a second time? It was the only way
to protect you from gossip and the only way to keep the family name
untarnished. I shudder to think what the tattle-mongers would say if they had
seen what I saw - a Danbury allowing herself to be manhandled by a perfect
stranger. It was as well the fellow was also dressed as a highwayman; as far as
the world is concerned, it was you and I in the conservatory and we were there
for one reason only - that I might propose to you. If the public announcement
of our engagement does not follow very shortly, not only will your name be
murmured over the teacups, but mine as well.’

‘Are you
serious?’

‘I do not joke
about such things.’

‘I need time,
Mark, it is too soon.’

He sighed. ‘I
do not want to be kept dangling, Maryanne; I have my pride, you know. Do you
want to make me a laughing-stock?’

BOOK: The Danbury Scandals
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