The Captain's Christmas Bride (9 page)

‘Well, let us all say no more about it,’ put in Julia hastily, before he could refute any of her assertions. Besides, how could he? The girls here
had
all swooned over him, whenever he’d walked into a room, in what he’d found a highly embarrassing manner. And Lord Mountnessing
had
been pleased that his spoiled daughter was marrying him. Ridiculously so.

But then that was because the poor old fool thought she was in love with him.

‘Especially not,’ Julia continued firmly, ‘if it pertains to my fortune, or your brother’s lack of it. We met, we suit, and we are marrying. Never mind how it came about.’

‘But I cannot condone your behaviour, Lizzie,’ he growled. ‘Nor the way you have meddled in my life.’

‘She meant it for the best, my lord,’ Julia reminded him.

‘So you think,’ he said, glowering at Lizzie, ‘that is sufficient excuse for sending a letter that worried me, and brought me charging down here post-haste. For lying to me—’

‘I didn’t tell any lies. Not real lies!’

‘You deliberately caused me to believe something that wasn’t true.’

‘But she did it,’ put in Julia, ‘in a good cause. She thought she was doing it for you.’

‘Aye,’ he scoffed. ‘I might have known you would take her part in this. That you would sympathise with such behaviour. You’re clearly two of a kind.’ For hadn’t she done the same sort of thing? Disguising herself in that dress, and luring him out to the glasshouse? And she hadn’t been doing it for anyone’s good but her own. Unlike Lizzie, who, he conceded, had been trying in her misguided way to be of benefit to him.

Lizzie, far from looking chastened, actually beamed at him. And then at Lady Julia. ‘I’ve always wanted a sister,’ she said.

‘How lovely,’ Julia answered, looking slightly baffled by the way Lizzie could smile at him when he was still glowering at her. Though he knew it was because Lizzie knew he couldn’t be angry with her for long. He loved her far too much. Had always striven to provide her with everything a young lady could want.

That was the moment it hit him, the same way it must have hit Lord Mountnessing the night before: he’d spoiled her. Indulged her so much that she had no fear of him whatsoever. He’d taught her she could get away with anything. Fortunately for him, she loved him back, so was unlikely to use his fondness for her against him.

Julia, though? All she had was that same sublime belief that she was always right.

He’d never have any say over anything she did. Never know what she was planning.

She was going to be as unpredictable, and as uncontrollable, as the sea itself. He had a brief, but chillingly vivid vision of spending the rest of his life hanging on to the rigging, and hoping he didn’t end up capsized and drowned.

Chapter Six

E
ventually the ball ended, and the guests who’d only been invited for the evening went home. Julia fell into bed feeling completely drained. And yet sleep eluded her. Her heart was heavy. Her limbs restless. And her mind whirling.

It was easier to understand why Captain Dunbar assumed she was a natural-born schemer, now she’d seen the way his own sister behaved. Since he’d spent the last few years steering his ships up and down the coast on the alert for foreign invaders, and then getting tangled in her own plan to compromise David into marriage the minute he stepped ashore, it was hardly any wonder he’d started to think women did nothing but plot and plan to trap men. If she was him, she’d probably be wary of what she was about to get up to next.

Such a depressing conclusion made it even harder to get to sleep. In the end, Julia gave up. She got out of bed, wrapped her eiderdown about her shoulders and went to the window seat to watch dawn raise its reluctant head over a bleak and empty horizon. The few clouds which had ventured out were scurrying, shivering across the sky. Here came her wedding day. A day when she should be marrying a man she loved. A day when she should be rejoicing.

Instead, the man she’d loved for as long as she could remember no longer loved her back. And because of a series of disastrous mistakes, she was going to have to marry a man she hardly knew. And she was going to have to smile as though she was deliriously happy about it, or she’d look like the world’s biggest fool.

Even worse, she’d make her father look like a fool. Everyone knew he’d decided not to arrange a match for her the way he had done for his heir. He’d declared Maria’s daughter should only marry for love. If anyone got so much as a hint of the truth of what lay behind her marriage to Captain Dunbar, Nick, and probably Herbert as well, would rub her father’s nose in it every opportunity they got. She simply refused to hand her brothers that kind of ammunition to use against Papa. She’d let him down badly enough as it was.

So, no matter how miserable she felt, she was just going to have to put a smile on her face, and keep it firmly in place until this whole wretched day was over.

* * *

As soon as it was light enough to make it acceptable, she rang for her maid to bring her breakfast.

To Julia’s surprise, Mabel came in with Betty, rather than wait for her summons. And she was beaming—well, both of them were.

‘Ooh, ’tis no surprise to see you up so early,’ observed Betty with delight. ‘I’m sure you can’t wait to get your handsome captain to the altar.’

‘Betty! You forget yourself,’ snapped Mabel. And then ruined her haughty stance by rushing to Lady Julia’s armoire and drawing out the dress she’d planned to wear for the Twelfth Night celebrations. ‘You must wear this.’ She sighed, draping the confection of gauze and spangles over the footboard of Julia’s bed. ‘You look so lovely in it.’

‘You’ll dazzle ’im, right enough,’ said Betty, completely unabashed by Mabel’s reproof.

‘Are you sure I should wear that? I mean, it’s a ball gown.’

‘You will look like a fairy princess in it.’ Mabel sighed, flaring the demi-train out into a fan.

A fairy elephant perhaps, thought Julia as she buried her nose in her cup of chocolate. But, since the maids were so excited at the prospect of dressing her up like a Christmas goose for her handsome groom, she voiced no objection.

As they chattered and fluttered round her, she strove valiantly to emulate their excitement. But the more animated they became, the greater her sense of guilt grew.

When she was finally ready, and they stood gazing at her with hands clasped at their bosoms and tears in their eyes, she managed a watery smile for them.

‘Oh, my lady,’ gulped Mabel. ‘There is no need to feel nervous. You make a beautiful bride.’

The dress was certainly beautiful. And the jewels she wore were magnificent. And most people wouldn’t look beneath the trappings.

She instantly felt ten times more guilty. The maids both believed it was nerves making her so unresponsive. Though, in a way, wasn’t it? Wasn’t she nervous about marrying a man she barely knew? For the most shameful of reasons?

There was a soft knock on the door, and her father came in. The maids bobbed respectful curtsies, and scurried out, eager to find good places in the choir loft, from which vantage point as many of the staff who could squeeze into it would be watching the ceremony.

For the first time that morning, she didn’t feel as if she had to wear any sort of mask. Papa didn’t expect her to be all smiling and excited. He knew she’d misbehaved and felt guilty. And from the stern look he bent on her, he still hadn’t quite forgiven her, either.

‘Oh, Papa, I do hate it when you are angry with me.’ It was such a relief to be able to drop all pretence, and speak the complete truth, she had to sag down onto the nearest chair.

‘I am sorry I have disappointed you,’ she said, gazing up at him for some sign of softening.

He walked over to her and patted her shoulder, which was as demonstrative as he ever got.

‘There, there,’ he said gruffly. ‘You are headstrong, like your mother. And I have indulged you, rather than curbing you. So the fault is as much mine, as yours.’

‘No, indeed it isn’t. You are the best papa a girl could have!’

‘Well, let us say no more about it.’ He sighed. ‘Indeed I do not have it in me to remain angry with you any longer. Not today, of all days.’ He darted her a wry smile. ‘Not when you are looking so pretty.’

She wasn’t pretty. He was looking at her through the veil of affection he’d felt for her mother, as he’d always done.

‘It was very wrong of you to entrap that poor man the way you did,’ he continued. ‘But since he appears to have forgiven you, how can I do less?’

She reached up and seized his hand and kissed it in the relief that he’d decided to forgive her. Even though what he was forgiving her for wasn’t exactly what she’d done. If he had known the complete truth... A chill struck to her core. Would he be so understanding then? How could she bear it if he really did cease loving her? If he became cold and critical with her, the way he was with Nick, and Herbert?

She really did have cause to be grateful to Captain Lord Dunbar. If he had told her father the truth...

Julia immediately decided to forgive him for speaking so harshly to her whenever they’d been alone. Didn’t he deserve some outlet for his frustration? As long as he kept his true feelings hidden from the world—or, more specifically, her father—she could forgive him any amount of unkindness in private.

‘He is a decent man,’ said her father.

Yes, she had to admit he was, which made her wince because while she’d done nothing but complain, and flounce off in huffs, and that after dragging him down into her mess in the first place, he’d behaved like a complete gentleman.

‘And he really does appear to be coming round to the notion of marriage.’

Yes, she had to give Captain Lord Dunbar credit for his acting ability. Anyone would think he really was smitten if all they had to go by was his demeanour at the ball last night.

‘And I have to say, he is just the sort of man I would have chosen for you, had I been inclined to arrange a match for you. I believe he will make you a good husband.’

Julia was certainly not going to complain about him if he wasn’t, she vowed. For the rest of her life, she was going to have to put a brave face on it.

Tears sprang to her eyes. Her lower lip quivered as she faced the possibility of ending up just like so many society wives, married to men they couldn’t stand, taking lovers from amongst the dissatisfied husbands of the
ton
or eyeing up their footmen.

Just what she’d always sworn she would never do. She’d never seen the point in marrying, unless it was an improvement on the life she led now. Unless she could exchange a life of duty for one of love and warmth.

She blew her nose, and smiled at her father in a watery way. Then she took the arm he extended to her and left her bedroom for the last time as a single girl. Julia lifted her chin and put on a smile, which she kept firmly in place until she reached the family chapel.

It was full to the rafters. She’d never seen so many people crammed into the ancient pews. Was there nothing more interesting to do today? No—apparently she, so used to organising the entertainment for Papa’s guests, had become the entertainment. She could understand her female cousins—who were all studying her gown, whispering behind their fans and sighing over what they thought was a whirlwind romance—wanting to attend a wedding. Anyone’s wedding.

But what on earth was Nick doing here? And Herbert? Sitting right at the front? She would have thought they’d rather have all their teeth drawn than get all dressed up to witness her wedding—especially when they believed it was to a man she loved. Because neither of them got on terribly well with the ‘suitable’ wives Papa had arranged for them. And if her half-brothers were miserable in their marriages, they surely wouldn’t see any reason why she should be spared the same fate.

And as for all the other guests—well, Aunt Frances had been correct in saying that just about every member of the family was here. But they wouldn’t have filled the pews like this. As she and her papa made their stately progress down the aisle, Julia realised that not only the family and most of the other guests who were attending the house party had come to witness her humiliation, but also a fair sprinkling of locals. She spotted the vicar and his wife squashed into one of the rear pews; the master of the local hunt, and his wife in another. Even Nellie’s theatrical company had been allowed to come in and stand along the walls on either side.

Nellie nodded to her as Lady Julia walked past. As though to reassure her that all would be well. It was amazing how much that woman could express with just a nod and a sort of glimmer to her eye. No wonder she was such a hit on the stage. No wonder she had the entrée to so many homes, too. Just that one look had put more heart into her than anything anyone else had said today. Somehow, it reminded her that Captain Lord Dunbar was a decent man. That many people went into marriages knowing far less about their groom than she did, and had to face the terror of a wedding night with men who were practically strangers.

At least the wedding night would hold no fear for her.

Just as she reached that conclusion, she also reached the altar rail, where her reluctant groom stood waiting for her, his back ramrod straight, his eyes fixed forward—as if he didn’t want to acknowledge that any of this was happening to him.

Captain Lord Dunbar barely glanced at her throughout the ceremony either. And he barked out his responses in a brisk manner that made even Uncle Algernon wince.

Papa gave him her hand, and Uncle Algernon gave them his blessing, and it was done. They were man and wife. With a sense of acting out a part in a play, she laid her hand on his sleeve and turned to face the congregation, and the world, as a married woman.

Marianne, who was sitting on the second pew, took one look at her and burst into noisy sobs. Julia had been aware of her sniffling all the way through the service, but not until that moment had she realised just how upset her best friend, and cousin, had been.

As their eyes met she tried to convey the message that she didn’t bear her any ill will. How could Marianne even think it? As Captain Dunbar had so scathingly remarked, Marianne had never exerted the slightest bit of influence over her. She’d always followed in Julia’s shadow. Looked to her for guidance, if anything.

She really should have spent more time consoling her friend.

Just as she was cursing herself for her lack of foresight, she noticed someone passing her a clean handkerchief. It was David.

David was sitting next to Marianne.

Her step faltered. Who had invited him? And why hadn’t she noticed him when she’d been walking down the aisle? Because she’d been concentrating on her husband of course! Though—no, that wasn’t right. She’d noticed Nick, and Herbert, and even Nellie on her way to the altar.

She stared at him for a moment in complete bewilderment. If she loved him, shouldn’t she have sensed he was there? The way she always sensed the presence of Captain Dunbar whenever he was in a room?

Though what did it matter? David could be nothing to her now. He was there for Marianne, clearly. Which was a good thing. Yes, a very good thing. Marianne needed a friend today.

And wouldn’t it have been terrible if this incident had deprived Marianne of that friendship? The three of them had been firm friends since shortly after Marianne had arrived at Ness Hall. Even though she’d forfeited David’s regard, she was glad he clearly didn’t blame Marianne for any of it. No, all his anger, to judge from the look on his face, was directed solely and squarely, at her. Which was exactly where he should direct it, of course. Marianne had urged her not to try to trap David into marriage. Begged her not to borrow clothes from Nellie and comport herself as a woman of easy virtue. And Julia had brushed all her scruples aside.

Yes, she was glad he was there to comfort and console Marianne, until she had the opportunity to discuss her companion’s future. Because now she came to think of it, Marianne must be worried sick about it. Her status in this house had become that of a sort of unpaid companion. She must be wondering what would happen to her now.

She glanced up at her new husband, wondering if she would be able to persuade him to take Marianne into their household. And then realised she had no idea what their household was to be like, or even where they were to set it up. They hadn’t talked about anything of that sort.

Oh, how she wished she’d held on to her temper, yesterday morning, and had a sensible talk about practical issues. That was probably why he’d asked to speak to her privately. To discuss such things.

Her husband’s arm stiffened under her hand. Even though he was looking resolutely forward, somehow she knew he’d noticed her staring at David and Marianne. And to judge from the stern set of his jaw, had drawn entirely the wrong conclusion. Oh...bother!