Chapter Seven
She leaped off the sofa and nearly bumped into him. “Have you lost your wits?”
“Hush and listen. It’s the perfect solution.”
“No, it is insane.” She’d thought he had better sense, but apparently she’d been mistaken.
“Angeline, we would both benefit.”
He was outrageous. “I’m not marrying you so you can claim Sommerall.”
“You said if you married a wealthy and titled gentleman, all of your troubles would disappear. I am the Earl of Ravenshire. Granted it’s a courtesy title, but it’s hardly objectionable.”
“Are you feverish?”
He grinned. “No, but come a bit closer. I’m sure my temperature will rise.”
She wasn’t taking the bait. “You are proposing that we marry so that you can keep the property and I can repair my tattered reputation. That is the most bizarre reason I have ever heard for marrying.”
“Is it? My father made a marriage of convenience with Margaret, and they seem to rub along well enough.”
Damn him. How could she object to that? “We are incompatible,” she said.
“We’ve done fairly well working at Sommerall, which, by the way, you could renovate to your heart’s content. Although we might want to temporarily move into Deerfield to avoid paint fumes. It’s a big house, so we wouldn’t be in anybody’s way.”
She sank onto the sofa and massaged her temples. The marquess and Margaret had found love after marrying for convenience, but it did not mean that it would happen for Colin and her. In truth, it felt very much like a business matter.
But as he’d pointed out, all aristocratic marriages were based at least partly on practical monetary considerations. Marrying for love had become popular, but it did not negate the necessary contracts.
He joined her on the sofa. “I forgot to mention I have money from investments in shipping, so that should reassure you. No need to fear we’ll be beggared anytime soon.”
“I cannot decide if you’re practical or a lunatic. Possibly both.”
“I am serious about the marriage. Maybe this happened because it was meant to be.”
No, it happened because we’re both desperate.
“You may take your time to make a decision. I have six weeks to find a bride, but you will be here for only three more weeks. I understand that it is a momentous decision.”
She thought about what she’d done to her family and her fears that Penny would never have a come-out. She thought about her father’s melancholy and the day her mother had gotten violently ill upon learning Angeline meant to cry off. Most of all, she thought about Penny’s tears that day she and Mama had left for their journey to Paris.
She remembered thinking that she would do anything to make the scandal go away.
“I can practically see the cogs and wheels churning in your brain. What is on your mind?” he said.
I owe it to my family to accept your proposal.
She turned to him. “If we are to wed, we should discuss our expectations of marriage.”
“What specifically do you mean?”
“Is it to be a true marriage or one in name only? I know you need an heir, but…”
“But what?”
He sounded angry. “I was affianced to a rake, and he hurt me.”
Colin stood and walked over to the window. Then he spun around. “You compare me to that scoundrel?”
“I am not comparing you to him, but I have a right to know what to expect and so do you. It may be common for spouses in the ton to enter into liaisons, but I do not think I could bear another betrayal.”
“You assume that I will be unfaithful.”
“No, I assume nothing. I want to know if you will honor the marriage vows.”
“I’m not planning to betray you,” he said.
“An interesting answer,” she said.
“I will honor the vows, but that begs the question, Will you be my wife in truth or will you shut the boudoir door to me?”
She realized he was angry, because he’d felt she was accusing him. “Colin, I would never do such a thing. It would only push you to take lovers. While we are on the subject, I know there are women in the ton who betray their husbands, but I would never do that to you. I could never be so cruel.”
He put his hands on his hips. “How did something so simple become so complicated?”
“If it were easy, all marriages would be made up of hearts and flowers every day,” she said.
“I really hope you don’t expect flowers daily.”
She laughed. “No, but you might find yourself rewarded for a posy now and then.”
He clutched his chest. “My kingdom for a flower.”
“Do not be ridiculous.”
“There you go again.” He paused and said, “Why am I standing across the room when there is a beautiful woman waiting for me on the sofa?”
When he sat next to her, he took her hand. “Do you find the idea of marriage to me abhorrent?”
“Not on principle.” She was terrified of making another mistake. Part of her wanted to believe that underneath his rakehell exterior lay a man of honor. From all she’d heard, he’d earned his notorious reputation. She wanted to believe that he would give up his raking and settle down. What she needed was a surety and knew it was impossible. “It occurs to me that while we have known one another all our lives, we don’t really know each other,” she said.
“I believe that is probably common,” he said. “Especially with arranged marriages.”
“When you first brought up the subject of marriage, I felt obliged to say yes immediately. I know my parents would be grateful and relieved. Penny would most likely be able to have her come-out, and I could attend. She wants me to be there with all of her heart, and I yearn to watch my little sister dance at a ball for the first time. It is true the starchiest ladies of the ton will never forget. I do not care a snap for them, but I am concerned about the consequences for you.”
“You need not worry about me.”
“Gentlemen gossip,” she said.
He shrugged. “You are trying to make a point, are you not?”
“If others know a man has been cuckolded, is he the object of derision?”
“Yes, if it’s blatant. What does that have to do with us?”
“It is quite possible that others will speak disdainfully of your marriage to me.”
“If any man dared, I’d slap a glove in his face,” he gritted out.
“How many times will you have to defend me?” she said.
“Are you trying to persuade me not to marry you? It seems you are looking for reasons to discourage me. Believe me, no man will ever question your honor or mine if he expects to live.”
“Colin, I worry because I have a notorious reputation. Others will gossip about me.”
“They would never dare insult my wife,” he said vehemently.
“Not in your presence,” she said.
“Damn it, Angeline. You are pushing me away.”
She didn’t want to say it, but she knew it was necessary. “Colin, men said things to me when I was in Paris. Awful things. I am not exaggerating about my reputation. If we do not discuss it now, it may come between us.” She feared it would anyway.
“No man will come between us unless he has a death wish. Now, will you allow me to make a proper proposal of marriage to you?”
Panic set in and her lungs constricted. She’d made a bad decision once before. “There is no rush. We have three weeks remaining until the house party ends. I think we should use that time to learn more about each other. Meanwhile, we can contact the architect I mentioned to you earlier. I’m sure he would make the journey in a prompt manner.” It was so much easier to focus on practical matters.
“There is a problem,” he said. “I can’t very well hire a man and keep the engagement a secret. My father would question why I was spending money but making no effort whatsoever to hunt for a wife.”
She sighed. “I so had my heart set on it.”
“I’d rather hoped it would be me that made your heart thump, but perhaps I’d better use the three weeks to woo you.” He set his arm around her shoulders.
She inhaled his scent and everything inside of her wanted to be closer to him, but she wasn’t ready to go farther. “Did I give you leave to be familiar?”
“Not in so many words, but your dreamy sighs as you looked upon my fair countenance encouraged me.”
She laughed. “You are being ridiculous again.”
“I’m only trying to be romantic, but it seems my almost-fiancée is not.”
She wondered if his witty remarks hid his own misgivings about the marriage. When she turned to him, he cupped her cheek. “So soft.”
He had the sort of face that made women stop and stare. His chiseled square jaw, cleft chin, and straight nose were both beautiful and masculine at the same time. There was perfect symmetry to his face, but it was his eyes that drew her.
He angled his head and kissed her so gently, she sighed afterward. Whatever fears she might have had seemed to float away.
Then he kissed her again, and this time, he kissed her like a starved man. He licked her lips and when she opened for him, he slid his tongue inside and pulled her closer. She was powerless to deny him; no, she didn’t want to deny him. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and wanted to be closer to him. The scent of him wrapped around her, a seductive potion that made her forget all of her misgivings.
His breathing was harsh and labored as he nuzzled her neck. When he cupped her breast, she drew in a ragged breath at the pleasurable sensations. Her nipples ached as he palmed her through the thin muslin of her bodice.
He fumbled at the back of her gown, and she felt cool air on her back. When he pushed her sleeves down her arms, she thought of denying him. He circled his thumbs around her nipples, and she bit her lip to keep from begging him not to stop. She was neither afraid nor disgusted the way she’d been when Brentmoor tried to fondle her. She’d always pushed him away, and now she was glad that she’d never let him, because he’d never cared about her.
Thoughts of her former fiancé fled as Colin lowered his head and circled his tongue around her nipple. She clutched the back of his head, her fingers threading through his thick, curly hair. When he suckled her, her head fell back, and she wanted more of him.
“I knew you would be beautiful, but you have surpassed my every expectation.”
She felt as if she’d drunk too much champagne. The desire still lingered, making her a bit lethargic, but he pulled her sleeves up and hooked the back of her gown. She was aware of dampness between her thighs and a yearning for more of the pleasurable sensations he’d excited in her.
He smiled a little as he gazed at her. “I find myself amazed and humbled by your response. Whatever else may come, I think in this, we will be very compatible.”
His words sounded too good to be true. Yet she was torn between wanting to believe him and her knowledge that he desperately needed a wife in order to keep Sommerall. Worse, she knew that she would never have even considered marrying him if she weren’t so worried about her sister’s come-out.
God in heaven, how could she marry a man simply to ensure her sister got her heart’s desire? But how could she not do everything in her power to restore her honor and that of her family? She had brought scandal upon them, and she owed it to them to do whatever she could to restore her family’s honor.
But she was afraid, more afraid than of being an independent spinster. At least that way she would never have to worry about exposing herself to society or finding herself awake in a cold, deserted bed while her husband found comfort elsewhere after having secured the property he wanted. There was no question that if she accepted, this would be a marriage of convenience, and Angeline knew it would be foolhardy to hope that love and affection would follow the way it had for Lord Chadwick and Margaret. Their marriage may have started as a convenience, but they were one of the rare, lucky couples who had fallen in love.
Angeline couldn’t allow herself to even consider the possibility that tender feelings might develop in this marriage. She had to be pragmatic, and that meant accepting an offer of marriage that she was far from confident about, but it wasn’t as if she had better choices. That thought alone made her feel horrible, because every instinct inside of her shouted that she was selling herself for a season in London for her sister.
God help her, she would do anything, even marry, to make sure her sister had a fairy-tale come-out ball.
When footsteps sounded, Angeline straightened her neckline and squared her shoulders. Agnes appeared at the door. “My lady, the kitchen hearth is sound. I took the liberty of scouring the pots and pans with sand.” The scullery maid lowered her eyes. “John awaits on the drive.”
“Thank you, Agnes,” Colin said. “Tell John we will be only a few minutes.”
“Yes, your lordship.” She bobbed a curtsy and disappeared.
“Angeline, is all well with you?”
She thought he must be worried about what had transpired. “Yes, I’m well and ready to depart.” The heady sensations of his kisses and touches had worn off quickly as her worries had taken over. He’d offered marriage, the one thing she’d known could reverse all of the bad things that had happened. At first, it had seemed like a dream, but it was not. Quite possibly, it could end in a nightmare for her.
He’d agreed to grant her more time to give her answer when the house party ended. She wondered if he was as reluctant as she was about this marriage. At least there was no question about their motives for marrying. They both knew exactly why they were doing this. But could they build a lifetime on a sham marriage?
She would reconcile herself to the marriage, make the best of it, and be grateful. Because Providence had provided her with a chance to redeem herself—a gift to her family.
They would marry, and she would be able to attend her sister’s debut. There would still be whispers, but once she was married to Colin, no one would dare openly cut her. The combined strength of both their families would help as well.
Could it really be that easy? She hoped with all of her heart that it would, but only time would tell.
Yet her thoughts were of her family, not of him. She worried that he’d made a decision based on hearing her sad tale, but he would benefit as well. God willing, he would not regret his decision. There were three weeks left for both of them to figure out if they could forge a life together, one that could bring them happiness for a lifetime.
But would three weeks be enough?
It was a daunting prospect. She wanted to believe, more than anything, that they would fall in love like his father and Margaret had. But she must not count on it. She’d been disappointed and humiliated once before. The scars inside her had yet to heal, but she didn’t have the luxury of waiting. There would be no other opportunities.
A voice deep inside warned her that a marriage based on winning a property and salvaging her reputation was insufficient for a lifetime, but it was more than she’d thought possible. From the moment she’d broken her engagement to Brentmoor, she’d shut off her dreams of love and forever-after happiness. Now all she hoped for was contentment.
But would there be? No matter how kind he had been to her, she could not forget that he was a notorious rake. She’d heard ladies whispering immoderately about him in the retiring rooms at balls, and she had seen him walking out into dark gardens with scandalously dressed ladies at balls.
Her instincts told her he was different. He’d shown sympathy for her and made her feel better about herself for refusing Brentmoor’s insistence on intimacies. But she couldn’t forget Brentmoor’s attentive concerns when she’d first met him. Colin was different. He was.
Yet she’d had to persuade herself the same way she’d done with Brentmoor.
After dinner that evening, the ladies had repaired to the drawing room while the men drank their port. Angeline was aghast to learn her mother and Margaret were making lists for the party they were planning to ease her back into society. She had to stop them somehow, because it might well end up in disaster.
“Mama, Margaret, I beg you to forget this party for now. I am not ready to face society. I am simply unable to entertain the thought. Perhaps the time will come, but I am too uncomfortable with the idea right now.”
“Angeline, by spring, you will be ready,” the duchess said.
“Please do not move forward yet. I’m not ready for this step. I hope you understand and will abide by my wishes. It would be a mistake at this time.”
“Of course, dear,” the marchioness said. “We’ve no intention of forcing you, but Charlotte’s letter sounded so positive.”
“Charlotte has been a good friend to me for many years, but I believe she would counsel me to wait. I think it is for the best.”
Margaret turned her attention to the duchess. “Perhaps we should wait. Angeline is sure to receive many invitations. It would make for an easier entry back into society.”
They still did not understand, but she had no intention of elaborating. Her mother and Margaret were grasping at straws, and Angeline found it unbearable. Then it occurred to her that she could divert them. “Perhaps we could discuss the girls’ debuts.”
When Penny heard mention of a debut, she and the twins left the pianoforte to join them.
“Angeline, tell us about your debut,” Penny said.
A lump formed in her throat. As an elder sister, she ought to have brought it up earlier, but that was before she had been afraid to encourage Penny.
“Oh, yes, please do,” Bianca said. “I wish to hear about every moment.”
Angeline recollected standing still in the receiving line, waiting for the first guests to arrive. Silly thoughts had flitted through her mind, and she’d had to stifle a giggle. Had she really ever been so young and na?ve?
“Tell us about your gown,” Bernadette said.
“At first I thought it a bit plain. It was white with a high waist and made of beautiful lace. In the candlelight it was gorgeous,” she said. “The best part was that Mama relented and allowed me to have white slippers with scarlet stripes.”
“Do you still have them?” Bianca asked.
“They’re packed away in a trunk for safekeeping at Deerfield.”
“Mama, will we go to London and have gowns made up by a modiste?” Bernadette said.
Margaret smiled. “Yes, you shall have new gowns, slippers, bonnets, and stockings.”
“We shall have to pour through all the fashion books,” Bianca said.
“Girls, you must practice at the pianoforte, as you will be called upon to exhibit after you debut,” the duchess said. “You must attend to your dancing lessons as well.”
“I shall probably make a cake of myself,” Bianca said.
“We always do,” Bernadette said, laughing. “We had better pay attention to Mama’s lessons in deportment.”
Penny hunched her shoulders. “I fear I’ll make no impression at all.”
“We won’t let you be a wallflower,” Bernadette said.
“Exactly,” Bianca said. “We will not let you out of our sight, unless a handsome swain asks you to dance.”
“My palms are damp just thinking about dancing with a boy,” Penny said. “Angeline, you will be there? I cannot do this without my wonderful sister.”
“You will do very well.” She met her mother’s eyes briefly and looked away. If she were a better daughter, she would confess today’s events to her mother. But she could not do it, because she didn’t want to raise her mother’s hopes, and if in the next three weeks, she or Colin determined that they would not suit, it would be best if their families never knew.
The marquess finished his port and regarded his son. “You were at Sommerall today?”
“Yes. I wish to complete my inventory of the items in the attic. I covered the few paintings I discovered and set aside those items you might find useful. If you are amenable to sending a wagon, I’ve put items in crates that the tenants and servants might find useful.”
The marquess arched his brows. “Well, I did not expect you to labor in the attic. Servants could have accomplished the task.”
“They would not have known what was valuable and what was not. I found correspondence that I left on your desk. You were out shooting.”
Wycoff narrowed his eyes. “My daughter was with you?”
“Yes, she helped. The scullery maid attended us again.” Although Agnes had not shadowed them, he did not divulge that information. He wanted to reassure Wycoff, especially after hearing what had transpired with Brentmoor.
Colin had intended only to give her a relatively chaste kiss, but the moment their lips met, he felt as if his blood were on fire. He imagined taking her on walks and sharing heated kisses, but he should not take advantage of her. If at the end of three weeks she changed her mind, it would prove dashed awkward when they parted ways because of the long-standing friendship of their parents.
He turned his attention to his father. “Agnes is a resourceful servant. She doesn’t wait for orders; she makes suggestions. You might mention it to Margaret.”
“I will,” the marquess said. “Have you decided that marriage is too high a price for Sommerall?”
Wycoff rose. “I’ll give you privacy.”
Colin noted Wycoff’s wan expression and slumped shoulders as he trudged out of the dining room.
The marquess sighed. “Wycoff’s spirits plunged again after hearing Margaret and the duchess exclaiming over that letter. I mentioned to Margaret that it might be best to leave off the plans for his sake, but she was adamant that the letter proved there was hope for Angeline.”
Colin circled the rim of his glass with his finger. He figured silence was for the best.
“I’ve thought of telling Wycoff to make an effort to rouse himself from this melancholia.”
“He blames himself.”
The marquess narrowed his eyes. “How do you know? Even I am not privy to the details of Angeline’s problems.”
He’d better be careful what he said, because Angeline had spoken to him in confidence. “I assume that he does based upon his actions and his reaction to that letter Angeline received in particular.”
“I suppose you’re correct,” the marquess said. “Now, you have not given me an answer about your intentions for Sommerall.”
“I’ll give you my answer when the house party ends.”
His father scoffed. “I’ll grant you the remaining three weeks to give me an answer, even though I’m fairly certain you would rather give up the property than marry.”
“If I did not want to take possession of Sommerall, I would have told you so immediately.”
When the duke entered the drawing room, Angeline was determined to persuade him to play chess with her. She hurried to intercept him, but her father walked past her and offered his arm to Penelope. Her father set up the board and seated her sister. Angeline trudged over to the window seat and considered quitting the drawing room, but someone would likely inquire why she was leaving, and the last thing she wanted was to attract attention.
There was no doubt that her father had withdrawn his affection. It hurt so much. She had once been her father’s favorite, and now he ignored her. Worse, Angeline found herself jealous of her little sister. They had always had a special bond, and of course, she shouldn’t begrudge her. But her father’s rejection cut like a knife in her heart.
A deep voice cut through her thoughts. “You look a hundred miles away.”
She lifted her gaze to find Colin. “I suppose I am.” She didn’t want to tell him about her father. The pain was unimaginable, but how could she blame her father for being disappointed in her? No, disappointment was too weak of a word to describe what she’d done to her family.
“You seem dispirited,” he said.
“It will pass.” She knew it would be a long time before the aching guilt left her.
“I wish there was something I could do to cheer you,” he said.
“I appreciate your concern.”
His gaze turned away from her. “Is it your father who troubles you?”
She stiffened. “Why do you ask?”
“He is not himself at all,” Colin said. “Have you noticed?”
She nodded, but she didn’t want to discuss the issue now. The wounds were still too raw.
Colin reached between them and squeezed her hand. “I know it is difficult now, but trust that everything will come about.”
She felt his gaze upon her and looked up at him.
“Everything will be well, Angeline.”
She wasn’t sure if his words were a promise or simply encouragement, but tonight, she needed someone to help her believe that everything would work out for her—for both of them.
“Are you afraid of me?” he said under his breath.
“No, I’m not afraid of you, but I fear that at the end of the house party you will feel obliged to marry me,” she said quietly. “I beg you to be honest. I could not bear it if you felt trapped.”
“You worry too much,” he whispered. “You look careworn.”
“I’m a little done up tonight.” She didn’t tell him it was because she was heartbroken that her father had snubbed her once again.
“Get some rest,” he said. “You will feel better tomorrow because of it.”
“Thank you, Colin.” Perhaps they would be able to find happiness together, but if they were to do so, she knew it was crucial that she not compare him to Brentmoor. Colin had been honest with her about what he wanted. They both would benefit as long as they were truthful with each other.
There had been that moment when she’d questioned his reasons for asking her to marry him, but he had been completely honest and so had she. As she wearily climbed the steps, she told herself that she must do it, despite her doubts. They would manage, and while it would never be the fairy-tale love match, it was preferable to a lonely life as a spinster.