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Authors: Elle Q. Sabine

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BOOK: The Rusticated Duchess
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In the dining room, Clare sat Gloria on his right and Colby on his left, leaving Meriden to take the seat beside his sister-in-law.

He listened to them discuss Eynon and Meriden’s son, and knew a moment of guilt. Clare hadn’t yet spent any time with Gloria’s son, even infant that he was. He ought to know more about the child, if he was to become the babe’s step-father. It was entirely possible that Lennox and his lawyers would resist Clare’s intentions to keep the child with his mother and try to separate Gloria from him by taking away Eynon. Clare didn’t want to strain the relationship between Gloria and her family, so it was a point Clare needed to resolve independently with Lennox, even in the absence of a marriage contract.

And there was Gloria’s income. Clare didn’t need it to support Gloria, but Clare knew that a marriage between them was more likely to thrive if Gloria believed herself to be independent financially—and control of her income would contribute to that belief. He was certainly capable of supporting her, and willing to, but those were details on which she would be sensitive, particularly with the Chancery case still extant.

In any event, Clare didn’t want her to be dependent on either him or Lennox. Without question, she was far younger than he, and Lennox was a wily old fox who could have an apoplectic fit any day. Clare had no intention of leaving her at the mercy of any other man, so it was up to him ensure that she was not only in control of her financial well-being, but fully capable of making wise decisions regarding expenditures, investments and management.

The more he thought of it, the more he realised that Gloria was right to be wary of a special-licence marriage, brought about in secret. It was a depressing thought, and went against every single instinct that screamed Gloria was in danger. Marrying her would protect her, even if the entire scheme was impractical.

Worse, he couldn’t get a special licence without her guardian’s permission. She wasn’t of age, and it was apparent her guardianship was unclear. Even if Lennox signed the licence, Chancery—and the Church—could annul the marriage based on its illegality.

The thought made Clare’s stomach turn, though further reflection reminded him that such an outcome could not possibly be achieved before Gloria was twenty-one.

Clare wanted to growl into his cups and stomp about but of course he didn’t. He rose as Gloria did and offered a tray of liquors to his visitors once she’d withdrawn to the drawing room.

“Now then,” Meriden said, sipping the smooth whisky he’d chosen. “I did notice that perhaps the lady isn’t as agreeable as you had hoped. Colby and I could pressure her, but we don’t have the authority to force her to marry, and the truth is, we wouldn’t anyway. The idea seethes with hypocrisy.”

Clare drew a deep breath, and leant back in his chair. “She’s several good points against a hasty wedding,” he admitted grudgingly. “And I’ve thought of some difficulties myself. Namely, I can’t get a special licence without her guardian’s permission, which I don’t have. Explaining that she has no guardian because she’s a widow is not likely to earn me any points in an episcopal interview. It will lead to more questions.”

Colby grunted.

“I take it you don’t want her to go to Italy,” Meriden stated. “But neither can she stay here. If warrants are brought here, you’ll need to execute them or lose the privilege and position, and embarrass your father and his title before the peerage.”

Clare agreed, privately, but aloud said only, “The castle gates will stay closed of course. By the time we open them to allow the delivery of any said warrants from the King, Gloria will be on my yacht and sailing away into the Irish Sea.”

“You can’t stay here indefinitely, lad.” Colby shook his head. “Even if you wished to, you have other duties—”

“I’m hardly likely to leave a gentlewoman at the mercy of a scoundrel such as that,” Clare spat out. “Gloria asked me to find another solution than marriage, but short of stashing her in Fingal’s Cave on Staffa, I can’t see how to make her completely invisible to the outside world for a nearly a year.”

Meriden stilled, and spoke carefully. “Scotland’s not such a bad idea, you know.”

Clare looked up at him, then at Colby, who had sat up sharply. “The age of consent is only eighteen. No licence. No need to wait.”

Of course. “If I travel with her to Scotland, she’ll have to marry me eventually,” Clare said slowly. “Despite whether she agrees to do so today or not. She won’t have a chaperone. If it comes out—”

“Is that such a bad thing?”

The enquiry came from Colby and Clare restrained the urge to squirm in his seat. “No, I want to marry her. I’m willing and happy to do it right now. But I will not force her, because, as you say, it is the ultimate hypocrisy.”

“Norham Castle overlooks the Scottish border, does it not?” Meriden questioned. “You could take her there. No need to explain the whole Scottish solution unless you choose to do so. You can surely organise to cross the river into Scotland in an emergency.”

Clare frowned. It seemed underhanded, but clearly in Gloria’s best interests. He could take her to her home, help her adjust, watch her turn it into her home. Eynon would be in England. Clare could communicate with Lennox through Lauderdale without arousing suspicion. “We should leave as soon as possible if it’s to be done,” he finally acknowledged. “I would need to accompany her, rather than stay here and delay the execution of any warrants.”

“On the morning tide, if it can be managed,” Colby agreed. “We intended to have Gloria out of the cottage tonight.”

Clare sighed and put his glass down. “Shall we go break the news to her, then?”

They did. Colby gave her the verdict. Clare would escort her and Eynon across the Irish Sea, departing just before dawn when the tide was most favourable. They would travel east to Ladykirk and Norham, where Lauderdale’s English stronghold was located. The men could see no reason that Winchester or his lawyers would guess her location, but she had to promise them she would abide by Clare’s edicts to safeguard her and Eynon if they did.

Gloria looked shocked at first, having clearly expected an argument over the matter of marriage. However, she subsided and listened before finally nodding in agreement. Clare watched her closely but she was getting the compromise she’d requested—he would keep her close and bear responsibility for her safety, while she would not have the protection or obligation of marriage—at least not immediately.

None of the men stated that point. If she did not realise, then Clare had no intention of informing her until the matter was before them, requiring resolution. He’d do better to change her mind before a marriage became a requirement, and in truth, he’d much prefer she
wanted
to marry him, rather than be forced into the relationship.

With a sigh and grimace, she glanced at the clock. “If we’re to go in the morning—even with only the necessities—I must go. Astrid and Mrs Sinclair will help, but there is much to be done—there’s the nursery to prepare for a journey, and that alone will need hours through the night.”

Colby agreed, offering to inform Brody of their change in plans, while Gloria arranged for her own belongings to be repacked. The two left the room together with hardly a nod for Clare and Meriden.

“That was entirely too easy.” Meriden frowned.

“She’s relieved that I backed away from an immediate marriage,” Clare agreed. “I didn’t realise before this afternoon that her fears were so deep, but she’s terrified and it’s up to me to convince her that not all men are as dishonourable as March.” He peered at Meriden. “I understand you are happily wed to Gloria’s sister despite Winchester’s manipulations. How did you manage it?”

Meriden looked slightly uncomfortable, shifting his shoulders. “I behaved somewhat dishonourably,” he grunted. “I was damn lucky to win Abigail’s devotion, to be truthful. Looking back, if she had been my daughter, I would have broken my damn neck.”

“I want you to carry a letter to Lennox for me,” Clare said. “Can you do it?”

“Colby can.” Meriden shook his head. “I’m headed straight home. Abigail will be worried. What will you say?”

“I want my intentions—my plans—to be clear to him, at least.” He was silent for five seconds before the words formed in his mind. “I have every intention of marrying Gloria as soon as she’s agreeable. I am well aware that travelling together without a gentlewoman as chaperone is entirely too scandalous, despite the entire entourage of servants and her son. I won’t ask permission, but for a blessing from him and Gloria’s mother. His Grace and my father have been acquainted for years, but Lennox and I have some history that will serve me. He has reason to perceive me honourable.”

They discussed Gloria’s trust and the question of Eynon’s guardianship briefly before Clare stood and poured a glass of whisky from the decanter and handed it to Meriden.

Not having asked for it, Meriden had the grace to look confused. Clare paused, then cleared his throat and took a seat on the settee. “There is one other item of importance that we need to have out in the open, at least between you and I.”

Meriden looked at Clare and raised his brows inquiringly. Clare shrugged before stiffening his shoulders and answering reluctantly. “We need to discuss your wife.”

It was much later when he dragged himself out of the drawing room, and it was in the small hours of the morning before he left his study. His servants had packed his belongings and prepared the yacht by the light of the moon, his letter to Lennox had been written and an ample amount of gold taken from the coffers hidden inside Killard Castle to permit the large party to travel without worrying of the expense. Clare wanted to draw little attention, but with the various personalities and the size of the group involved that would be impossible.

In his room, he paced, looked at the clock and paced again, until finally, he gave into temptation and pushed open the door to Gloria’s chamber.

Coals remained in the fireplace, the light just enough to give the room shape and form. She was in the bed, trunks lining the room, and asleep.

He was free to look at her, to observe the vulnerability of her jaw. Her pale, often-troubled eyes were closed to him, but he traced a finger down her cheek and she sighed contentedly.

Clare didn’t know how or when it would happen, but he would marry this woman eventually. Caring for her—protecting her—wasn’t what he would have envisioned as his life’s calling, and the manner of doing so would be contrary to what most ladies needed. But Gloria was not the usual young miss with stars in her eyes. Gloria needed his trust, and her independence and a healthy dose of affection. It would be a challenge for him, to heal the angel and watch her bloom, but he’d do it. He had to do it.

 

Chapter Fourteen

 

 

 

Clare slid his arms around Gloria as she stood at the rail of the yacht and watched Killard Castle disappear into the mist. The ship’s crew had launched the vessel from within the private dock inside the castle walls, without sails or even a mast, while Gloria had watched from the poop deck in silent fascination. By the time the sections of two masts had been fastened with heavy metal rings and tugged into place, the grated gate that opened between the harbour and the castle walls were firmly shut. With the yacht sitting in the harbour in the pre-dawn, the moon still glowing and the air so cold she could see her breath, Gloria studied the sailors as they hoisted the white canvas sails in much-practiced harmony.

Now the proud, high watchtowers and the keep’s battlements were all that could be seen of Ireland, and the light in the harbour watchtower was fading.

“You could be mistress of it,” Clare murmured in her ear.

Gloria thought of Eynon, and Mrs Sinclair and Astrid, of Brody and Mrs Pitcher and Colman, crowded into the yacht with the bare minimum for travelling. In a few days, Mr Pitcher and Matthew would accompany Meriden on a merchant crossing, then separate in England and cart their belongings north to Norham Castle.

Colby was even now departing for Strangford, to find passage to London as quickly as possible. He carried a brief missive from Gloria to Lennox and her mother, as well as an urgent letter from Clare to Lauderdale and another to Clare’s son. Gloria had seen Clare speaking with him, but she’d not been able to listen because Eynon had been fussing on her watch. Mrs Pitcher and Brody had been organising.

Her lips twisted. “I have enough responsibility aboard this craft as it is,” she demurred.

The yacht was truly beautiful, with its dark wood polished to gleaming and the dawn rising at their backs. The crew had trimmed out the two gaff-rigged sails that swung on booms with the wind, drawing greater speeds with the four-sided sails than the slow vessel Gloria and her dependents had rocked west on months earlier. Clare had explained they would pause for an hour or so in Douglas before turning north towards a small port at Whitehaven. It wasn’t that they
needed
to stop, he’d said with a small smile, but that they always did. He rubbed the back of his knuckles against Gloria’s cheek, drawing a smile from her.

In Clare’s opinion, it was important that the crossing be as normal as possible, and many times they would dock overnight in Douglas if the yacht was headed south to Liverpool or to points farther south. Gloria could hardly argue, because he planned to have them in England by the end of the day.

The
Beannacht
was smaller than a proper ship, built specifically to size so that it could slide inside those great black grates in the harbour wall of Killard Castle. Not intended for long journeys, but rather the frequent crossing of the Irish Sea by the Blessings, it had a long, low salon now filled with Gloria’s servants.

Gloria shivered, but not from the cold.

“Would marriage to me be such a terrible fate?” he asked quietly, releasing his arms to hold the rail on either side of her hands, trapping her between his body and the deck’s rail.

Gloria was rebellious. She wanted to scream
yes
, to rage and fight against fate. In her calmer moments, she told herself that marriage to Clare would be different. Better. She could enumerate the advantages, not the least of which was the intimate relationship they’d already begun. But the anxiety that clawed at her stomach in other moments could not be ignored. How to answer?

BOOK: The Rusticated Duchess
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