Read The Six Month Marriage Online
Authors: Amanda Grange
The Six Month Marriage
The Six-Month Marriage
Amanda Grange
© Amanda Grange 2002
The
moral right of the author has been asserted
No
part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or
transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior permission in writing
of the publisher. Nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover
other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including
this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
This
book is a work of fiction. The characters and incidents are either fictitious
or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to any real person or incident is
entirely coincidental and not intended by the author.
First
published in hardback by Robert Hale Ltd. 2002
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‘There, there.’ Madeline Delaware
soothed her tearful maid. ‘It’s all right, Jenny, really it is.’ Her haunted
eyes belied her words, but she did what she could to comfort the young girl. ‘Come.
Best get it over with.’
‘What can he
be thinking of?’ sobbed Jenny as she applied a touch of carmine to Madeline’s
lips.
‘I don’t know,’
said Madeline. She was seated at her dressing-table in a large and gloomy
bedroom at the back of a run-down house in
Grosvenor Square
. Outside, the last light
of a summer day in the year of 1813 lingered, but inside it was dim. Dark gold
paint covered the walls and heavy brocade curtains covered the windows.
Everything about the room was oppressive, and as Madeline regarded herself in
the looking glass she was close to tears. Her face was painted with powder and
rouge, and for two pins she would have washed it off, but if she did so her
guardian would make her suffer for it; as well as, most likely, dismissing
Jenny.
Her eyes dropped
to her crimson gown. Its bodice was far too low. She did what she could to tug
it higher and tried to pull the transparent sleeves back on to her shoulder,
but they had been designed to fall away. She had pleaded with her guardian, her
uncle Gareth, to be allowed to wear one of her more suitable gowns, but he had
refused to listen.
‘Oh, miss, you
have to get away from him,’ sniffed Jenny. ‘Before something truly dreadful
happens.’
‘I know,’ said
Madeline. ‘But everywhere I go I am watched. No matter where I am - in the
drawing-room, the music room, the library - Miss Handley is always there.’
‘She calls
herself your chaperon,’ said Jenny, biting her lip. ‘She’s more like your
gaoler.’
Madeline
nodded. ‘And if ever she cannot be with me there is always someone else: a maid
pretending to dust the piano, a footman with a message, or the housekeeper
making a show of asking my advice about what to serve for dinner.’
‘When you go
riding . . . ’ Jenny began.
Madeline shook
her head. ‘When I go out riding it is worse. As well as Miss Handley I am
accompanied by a footman and a groom. Gareth is determined that I shall not
escape.’
No matter how
hard she fought against it, a feeling of hopelessness was gradually overtaking
her. Seven months of Gareth
Delaware
’s guardianship had worn her down, making her anxious and
afraid. She was confined at every turn, made a prisoner of, and denied any
contact with anyone who might help her. Gareth’s conduct thus far had been
limited to criticising and undermining her, and restricting her movements so
that she had had no chance to ask for help from anyone outside Delaware House.
But looking at the dress she had been forced to wear she feared that things
were about to get worse. Now that her twenty-first birthday was fast approaching,
Gareth had decided to arrange a marriage for her. And the marriage he had lined
up for her was one which filled her with dread.
‘I
don’t understand you, Gareth,’ she said some half an hour later, as the
Delaware carriage rattled its way through the streets towards Drury Lane. It
was a rare outing for Madeline, and she wondered why her uncle had decided to
take her to the theatre. ‘We will be cut by all our acquaintance if they see me
like this. Let me go home and put on something more suitable. The white satin
is just the thing for this evening. You told me not three months ago that it
was the sort of gown a young lady should be wearing.’
Gareth
Delaware
leered at her as he
lolled against the shabby squabs. Madeline gave a shudder. She did not know how
it was, but Gareth always managed to look dissolute, even though his linen was
clean and his breeches and tailcoat were in the height of fashion.
‘You’re a
woman. You’re not here to understand me, you’re here to shut up and do as you’re
told. The white satin’s no good tonight. I need you to attract one of my
debtors so much that he will take you in lieu of my debt.’
Madeline
shuddered again.
‘We’ll have
none of those missish ways tonight,’ he said, his voice sharpening. ‘You’re
going to get me out of a tight corner, or it’ll be the worse for you.’
‘You surely
can’t expect any man of quality to offer for me looking like this,’ she flared.
Her anger gave her the courage to stand up to him. ‘You have turned me into a .
. . ’ She couldn’t bear to say the word. ‘No decent man will come near me.’
Gareth only
leered more. ‘Spirit. I like that in a woman. And so does the Honourable Lucius
Spalding. It’ll make you all the more fun to break in.’
Madeline’s
stomach contracted. ‘You can’t be serious, Gareth? You don’t really mean to
marry me to Lucius Spalding?’ She thought of Lucius’s slack features and his
licentious behaviour, and she blanched. ‘You don’t need to do this,’ she said. ‘If
you are in debt to Lucius Spalding you can have my dowry. Only let me go and
live quietly in the country and I will make no claim on it.’
Gareth laughed
without humour. ‘If only I could. My brother – your father, my dear - tied the
money up so tight there’s no other way I can get to it. So if Spalding wants
the ten thousand I owe him he’ll have to marry you and then he will get your
dowry. He’s not the marrying kind, but seeing you like that, he just might be
tempted after all.’
‘No, Gareth,
there has to be a better way.’ She made one last desperate appeal to his better
nature - if, indeed, he had one.
‘Enough! You’ll
attract Lucius Spalding tonight, and you’ll make him think you’re worth taking
along with your dowry, or . . . ’
‘Or what?’ demanded Madeline.
A cruel smile crossed Gareth’s face. ‘Or we’ll
see how long it takes you to change your mind when I lock you in your room.’
She would have
thought his words were melodramatic if she had not known from experience that
he would carry out his threat. As her legal guardian he was entitled to treat
her in almost any way he chose, and, being necessarily weaker than he, she
could not do a thing to stop him.
She shivered,
remembering the times when he had locked her in her room before. The first time
had been shortly after her arrival at
Grosvenor Square
, when he had invited a few friends
round to dinner. He had told her she must join them, adding, “And make sure you’re
nice to them”. She had thought he meant she should be polite, but had soon
discovered that he meant her to flirt with them, laughing at their insults and
encouraging their advances. She had left the room angrily and gone to her
bedroom; only to find herself locked in for almost a week. That incident had
not had the desired effect of breaking her spirit, but it had taught her one
important lesson: it was better not to cross Gareth. At least not outwardly.
Inwardly, it
was a different matter. Because she was not going to be forced into a marriage
with Lucius Spalding. Not at any cost.
The carriage
began to slow. Up ahead, hansoms and private carriages were queuing up, waiting
to drop off their occupants at the theatre. Madeline hoped for a brief moment
that, once she was out of the carriage, she might be able to lose herself in
the crowd which spilled across the pavement and make good her escape. It was a
desperate hope, but it was all she had. As the carriage rolled to a halt,
however, she saw that Miss Handley was already there, waiting outside the
theatre. Madeline had no choice but to step out of the carriage, and Miss
Handley immediately came forward to stand guard over her. She was hemmed in,
with Miss Handley in front of her and her uncle behind. She looked to left and
right. There were people converging on the theatre from every direction, but it
would be impossible for her to get away without her uncle and Miss Handley
hauling her back, and she was forced to go in.
Inside, it was
already crowded. The foyer was full of people, all laughing and chattering. The
ladies, their eyes bright with enjoyment, reminded Madeline of a flock of
exotic birds: their gowns of silk and satin glowed in the candlelight, and
their feathered head-dresses bobbed and swayed as they spoke. The gentlemen,
too, were splendid. They were dressed in dark tailcoats and coloured
waistcoats, or in dashing scarlet uniforms which were heavily decorated with
gold braid. But Madeline could not enjoy the sight. Her mind was taken up by her
fears for the future and desperate half-formed plans to escape.
Miss Handley and her uncle ushered her over
to the stairs. From their conversation it soon became obvious that the three of
them were due to share a box with Lucius Spalding. Perhaps he would not agree
to her uncle’s plan, she thought with a brief return of hope. But even if he
didn’t, she knew it would not be long before her uncle landed himself in debt
again and tried to use her and her dowry to buy his way out of it.
