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Authors: Sandra Heath

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BOOK: The Makeshift Marriage
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“But I beg of you, James
—”

“I will not be made a fool of, madam; nor will I allow you to forget that which you are party to.”

“That was uncalled for!”

“Was it? I think not, and it would seem that a timely reminder is quite in order under the circumstances.”

“You are only saying these things because you are angry that Nicholas is alive.”

“Angry? I am damned well furious! And your decision now, madam, does little to soothe that anger.”

Mrs. Townsend spoke then. “My lord, I do not think you are at all fair with my daughter.”

“What has being fair to do with this? Is she fair with me? Well
—is she? There, you cannot give me an answer, because you know that she is not. I am not fool enough to think that over the past weeks she has encouraged me because she has miraculously fallen in love with me! She has welcomed my advances simply and solely because of this house—oh, and maybe also because of my wealth and title. But it is the house which sways her, isn’t it? I have accepted that, because I cannot expect anything else, for I have not the looks and charm of my elegant cousin! What I cannot and will not accept, however, is her return to his side after what has passed between us.”

“But I have not returned to his side,” protested Augustine, with an air of innocence Laura could only admire. “How can I when he has a wife now?”

“An unconsummated marriage can be set aside, as you and I both know full well. So I think we may forget this so-called wife, don’t you? It is quite obvious to me that the moment he is well enough, he will wish to rid himself of an unwanted marriage, and that he will then take you as his bride.”

“James, how can I convince you that I am true to you now? I have every intention of becoming your wife the moment your two years of mourning for your first wife are over. In six months time your ring will be on my finger, but in the meantime I must ask you to allow me to conduct my affairs as I see fit.”

“Would to God I could believe you…
.

“You
can
believe me.”

“Prove it then by agreeing to let our former agreement stand.”

“It would not look well.”

“Since when has that concerned you? Augustine, I swear that unless you do as I demand now, then I will work against you, and believe me, that is no idle threat.”

“Against me? In what way?” Augustine’s voice was suddenly very wary.

“By openly and warmly welcoming the new Lady Grenville. By effecting introductions for her, by generally signifying my approval and thus making it very difficult indeed for Nicholas to cast her off.”

“You would not do that!”

“But I would, Augustine. I love you and have done so for longer than I care to mention, for my wife was certainly alive when first I wanted you. It is my desire for you which drives me so far
—why else do you imagine that I sought to—?”

“Don’t!” she cried. “Don’t say it aloud, not here in this house!”

“Why not? Because it offends you? Come now.” He gave a short, cold laugh.

At the door Laura felt the mirthless chill of that laugh, and, she shivered. Her mind was racing. What was he referring to? What had he done that so frightened Augustine now?

He spoke again. “I mean it when I say I will work against you, my dear, and I urge you to think carefully on it, for if Nicholas’s marriage remains intact, then what will there be for you? I promise you that you will not be able to turn to me. You will have nothing, Augustine, absolutely nothing.”

She was at her most persuasive and convincing then. “James, you have no need to threaten me or to doubt me. Your fears are not justified, for I promise you that when the time comes I will become your wife.”

“If I have fears, they are of your causing. Allay them now once and for all by allowing the arrangement made yesterday, before all this happened, to go ahead as originally planned.”

What arrangement? Laura could not even begin to guess what they were talking about, but she did know that all that she had overheard in the red saloon was of great moment.

Augustine still hesitated over her answer, and the seconds ticked leadenly by as the earl waited. “Very well,” she said at last, “I will come to Taunton, but I will need to make a very convincing excuse
—”

“You will succeed in that, my dear, I am sure.”

“I do love you, James, please do not think that I do not.”

“With the answer you have just given me, Augustine, how can I doubt you?”

“Will you take some more coffee with us, my lord?” inquired Mrs. Townsend, and Laura distinctly heard the chink of a silver coffeepot against a porcelain cup.

“I fear I cannot, dear lady, as I have to see my cousin’s upstart of a wife shortly, and before then I wish to see that damned valet Henderson, to find out exactly what did happen in Venice. Something is very wrong somewhere, as I think both you and I know only too well. I will not be tricked by anyone, not by
anyone.”
His heavy steps approached the door and then stopped again. “By the way, I fear I have something to tell you which will not please you at all. You will not receive an invitation to the Duke of Gloucester’s marriage ceremony.”

“Not?” Augustine’s disappointment was evident. “Why?”

“Because of your recent connection with me, my dear. The duke and I have never seen eye to eye, and the last time I was in London I am afraid that I crossed him severely, something the duke is not a man to forgive. However, you will soon have your own wedding arrangements to make, will you not? I promise you a wedding as grand as the duke and Princess Mary’s, and I promise you guests of as great consequence.” He came toward the door again.

Laura glanced fearfully around. Where could she hide? She saw a small adjoining passageway and gathered her skirts to hurry to the shadows there, just as the door opened fully and the earl emerged. She did not see him, however, for he turned in the opposite direction, his slow, careful steps echoing as he walked along the main gallery.

In the red saloon, the two women continued to talk, and the door remained just that little bit open so that once again Laura could hear what they said.

Mrs. Townsend’s voice was decidedly anxious. “I think, Augustine, that you would do better to stay with the earl
—”

“And lose this house and Nicholas Grenville? Never!”

“The house is not more important than your own future, my dear.”

“My future will always be connected with this house; nothing else matters to me. Except perhaps Nicholas. I swear that I did not know how much I wanted him until I thought him dead.” Augustine’s voice was soft.

“He has taken another woman as his wife, and if he survives his present setbacks, there is nothing to say he will not wish to keep her.”

Augustine was scornful. “You think she is capable of taking him from me?
No one
can take from me that which I wish to keep
—and I wish to keep Nicholas Grenville.”

“And if he dies? The earl may see through you yet, Augustine, for you play a dangerous game with him. We both know how far he will go, don’t we?”

There was a silence then and Laura knew that her mother’s words had had an effect on Augustine. But the moment was short, and Augustine’s supreme confidence and vanity returned.

“I know what I am doing, Mama. Believe me. Whatever happens, if Nicholas lives or dies, I will have this house. I want to live here as Nicholas’s wife, but if that is not to be, then I will live here as the Countess of Langford. But now, enough of this, let us turn to more cheering and immediate matters…
.

They began to talk about arrangements for the masquerade they intended holding, and Laura walked on, turning over and over in her mind what she had heard. What dark secret of the earl’s had Augustine and her mother decided to condone? And what arrangement was it that would take Augustine to Taunton? But all the questions remained unanswered as she reached her own room and called for Kitty.

 

Chapter 18

 

The earl was alone in the galleried library when she arrived, and he looked oddly out of place among the sedate shelves of leather-bound volumes, for the room was elegant and tasteful, which James Grenville, Earl of Langford, most certainly was not.

His corpulent shape was unfortunately emphasized by his fashionably tight turquoise coat and by the Apollo corset he quite obviously wore beneath. The corset attempted unsuccessfully to draw in his vanished waist and to puff out his chest, but the effect was alarming, as if at any moment his restrained figure would burst free of the confines which held it. He wore Cossack trousers, a fashion he had eagerly adopted in 1814, two years previously, when the czar had visited England. Their loose, baggy style was decidedly at odds with his tightly corseted upper half, making him look as if everything that was squeezed so much above his waist had somehow sagged beneath to fill out his posterior and his legs. What hair he had was arranged in hyacinthine curls through which gleamed a great deal of pink scalp, the backs of his hands were blanched, there was rouge on his cheeks and lips, and he surveyed her critically through a quizzing glass. He looked quite ridiculous, although she knew he was far from being that in actual fact.

His shrewd, sharp eyes moved slowly over her, his lips curled disagreeably, and he did not offer her any civility, neither greeting her cordially nor asking her to be seated. They stood facing each other.

“Madam, I wish to make things abundantly clear to you from the outset. In your husband’s incapacity,
I
am legally the master here.”

“I am aware of that.”

“I’ll warrant you are. By God, madam, you astound me. You come here, no doubt expecting to be treated like a lady, and then you subject Miss Townsend and her mother to a quite appalling display of ill humor and vulgarity!”

Laura stiffened, not bothering to hide the loathing she felt for him.

“A
lady!”
he went on. “When it is quite obvious that that is the
last
thing you are.”

“And what do you mean by that remark?” she asked coldly, loathing him more and more with each passing second.

“I mean that your actions hitherto have hardly been those of a person of quality, have they? You brazenly contrived to marry a man who was believed to be on his deathbed, and who may yet die, simply to ensure for yourself the comforts of a wealthy life!”

“How
dare
you, you of all lamentable creatures, dare to point a finger at me when your own conduct is far more iniquitous! You made no secret of your delight when you heard that Nicholas was dead, which fact is a clear indication that you are a very base coin, sirrah! As to my conduct with Miss Townsend and her mother, all I can say is that when it comes to vulgarity, they leave me at the post! All three of you are the most despicable insects it has ever been my misfortune to encounter, for I swear that I did not believe anyone could be as low as you.”

“Hold your tongue!” he cried, his rage erupting viciously as he raised his hand to strike her.

She held her ground. “Strike me if you wish, for that would be further proof of your cowardly nature.”

His whole body trembled, gripped by powerful, barely controlled emotion, and his small eyes were very bright and dangerous, but he did not strike her; instead he vented his wrath upon a vase, sweeping it from the table so that it shattered against the shelves.

She was frightened, but she did not move or show that he had any effect upon her. Looking into his eyes at that moment, however, she knew that he was capable of sinking to any depth, of committing any crime in order to have what he wanted. She found herself wondering again what it was that he had done that so frightened Augustine and her mother now.

After a long, tense moment, he recovered, assuming his former arrogant stance. “This interview is at an end, madam. Remember only that although you bear my cousin’s name, as far as I am concerned, and as far as Miss Townsend and her mother are concerned, you have no rights at all.”

She said nothing, turning on her heel and leaving the library without a backward glance.

She had not reached Nicholas’s room before she found her way barred by Augustine. A cool smile touched the perfect lips. “I trust you enjoyed your interview, my
lady.”

Laura did not deign to reply, she was so filled with disgust still after her encounter with James Grenville. She began to walk on.

Augustine’s yellow muslin gown hissed a little as she turned, and the ribbons moved against the shining red hair. “You cannot hope to succeed, you know; any plan you may have is doomed from the outset. I already know from Nicholas’s own tips that he doesn’t want you, that he wishes he had never, in a moment of great stress, taken you as his wife.”

Laura halted, hiding the pain that stabbed through her. “You seem certain that he will remain ignorant about you, Miss Townsend. It could be that you underestimate him.”

“It is you who underestimates me. I play my cards with great skill, I assure you, and I simply cannot lose with the excellent hand I have. If Nicholas survives, then he and this house are mine. If he dies, then there is the earl, who wants me so very much and who is also providentially Nicholas’s heir.”

“You are sure of the earl, are you?” asked Laura, not daring to be too clever, for that might convey to Augustine that she had maybe overheard something she should not.

“I am sure of my ability to gain whatever end I wish, whether it be your husband, or his cousin.”

“Are you not fearful that you may be overheard?”

“Who is there here but yourself,
my lady?
And of what consequence are you? None whatsoever. Good day, my
lady.”
With a swish of costly muslin, she continued on her way, leaving Laura to gaze after her.

Unbidden, Augustine’s taunting words returned.
I
already know from Nicholas’s own lips that he doesn’t want you, that he wishes he had never, in a moment of great stress, taken you as his wife…. She bit her lip, fighting back the tears. Let it not be true that he had said that, please let it not be true…
.

BOOK: The Makeshift Marriage
8.34Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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