The Unexpected Bride (9 page)

Penelope was shaking. This was far worse than she had imagined and she bit her lip to keep from crying. She still had to tell him she was blind, but she remained silent, terrified of bursting into tears if she spoke. Too late she realised that she had underestimated the insult to his pride in being so duped. It occurred to her that he had probably decided the whole family were cheats. Finally she asked in a very wobbly voice, ‘Would you have married me if you had known that there were two of us?’

Darleston, already feeling guilty over his loss of temper, but by no means prepared to admit it, answered very angrily, ‘Very well,
no!
it
wouldn’t
have changed my mind!’ He refrained from adding that it would have made a difference if he had been confronted with Phoebe. Mrs Ffolliot had been perfectly right in guessing that it was Penelope’s stronger personality which had caught his attention. Goaded beyond endurance he added, ‘And my intention to consummate this marriage stands, so I suggest you get used to the idea!’ He then dragged the frightened girl into his arms and brought his mouth down savagely on hers.

Taken totally by surprise, Penny tried to struggle in vain. The Earl, however, had forgotten the presence of Gelert, who had become increasingly anxious about this stranger shouting at his mistress. He took instant exception to the situation and leapt at Darleston bark
ing ferociously, forcing him to release Penelope. Half fainting, Penelope was unable for a moment to call Gelert to order, and she groped helplessly for his collar, finally dragging him back. Shaken with sobs, she slid off the seat onto the floor, her arms about the dog’s neck, crying into his rough coat. Gelert whined and licked her face frantically, pausing only to direct a few warning snarls at Darleston.

Stunned by the dog’s attack, Darleston sat back in his seat wondering just what he should do. His bride sat dishevelled and weeping on the floor of the carriage, her dog displaying every sign of flying at him again if he dared move towards her. He tried to apologise. ‘My lady…I mean, Penelope, I’m sorry for losing my temper and frightening you…I hope you will forgive me.’ Then, on a more practical note as she continued to cry, ‘Would you care for a handkerchief?’

A choked voice answered, ‘Thank you,’ and a small hand was held out. He placed his handkerchief in it and then put his head in his hands in disbelief at the mess he had made of the whole affair. His temper had ebbed. He felt very guilty, but somehow still annoyed with Penelope for having witnessed it. He groaned inwardly. Tonight was definitely not the night to bed his bride. It would be tantamount to rape.

The rest of the journey was passed without conversation. The Earl had no idea what to say to ease the tension and Penelope was completely numbed by the thought of the night to come. She had been terrified when Darleston seized her. There had been no hint of gentleness in his embrace. His mouth had completely and brutally possessed hers and his arms had admitted of no escape. She began to feel sick with fear at the thought of being alone with him.

By the time they reached Darleston Court in the falling dusk Penelope was in such a state of fright that she could not stop shaking. When the chaise drew up at the front of the house a footman opened the carriage door and let down the steps. His Lordship leapt down, holding out his hand to assist Penelope to alight. Not realising, she attempted to get down unaided but completely missed the steps. She fell with a cry of fright and found herself once more in her husband’s arms. ‘Careful!’ he said ‘You will hurt yourself if you don’t look out.’

There was real concern in his voice, and this undid her totally. Perceiving that she was about to burst into tears, he swept her up and carried her into the house, past the row of waiting servants, saying only, ‘Dinner in fifteen minutes, if you please. I have something to show her ladyship in the study!’ Closely followed by Gelert, he strode to the study door with Penelope in his arms. A footman rushed to open the door and close it behind them and Darleston deposited his wife gently on the sofa.

She turned towards him, saying shakily, ‘Would you please ask one of your people to take Gelert to the stables for the night and feed him?’

Darleston blinked. ‘Are you sure you would not feel safer if he remained?’ he asked quietly.

‘I would prefer to be able speak to you without worrying about his behaviour,’ answered Penelope proudly. She suspected that her husband was going to be even angrier than before at what she was about to tell him. If Gelert attacked him a third time he might insist the dog be sent away. Besides, she was ashamed of her own fear. All her life her father had taught her to look her fears in the face and conquer them. She
would not permit herself to hide behind Gelert’s protection.

‘As you please,’ said Darleston. He tugged the bell-pull by the desk. The butler appeared and Darleston gave him his instructions, ‘Meadows, please have her Ladyship’s dog conveyed to the stables and fed.’

‘Yes, my lord,’ said Meadows.

Penelope heard the apprehension in his voice and said with tolerable composure, ‘He will be good, I promise. Come, take his collar from me.’ Meadows crossed the room to her side to grasp Gelert’s collar. ‘Go with him, Gelert,’ she commanded. He obeyed reluctantly, giving a last growl as he passed Darleston.

‘Thank you, Meadows. Her ladyship will ring for him when she wants him,’ said the Earl.

Penelope turned towards her husband’s voice and said nervously, ‘There is one last thing I must tell you, my lord.’

‘Yes? I doubt you can shock me any further, but go ahead.’

Bracing herself for the explosion, she said simply, ‘I am blind.’

The silence lengthened, only to be broken by the Earl saying bitterly, ‘I appear to have married into a family of cheats. Do you imagine I wish my heir to be blind? Dinner will be served in ten minutes. Ring for Meadows when you are ready to join me.’

Penelope heard his footsteps cross the room then the door slammed behind him. She realised too late what he was doing and sank back onto the couch in the knowledge that she would have to wait there until it occurred to him that she had no idea where the bell-pull was.

Darleston waited an extra twenty minutes for his
bride, before giving up and starting his own dinner. He was furious. Doubtless the staff was agog at the situation, and the wretched girl’s last admission was the outside of enough. He ate several courses without even tasting them and downed a bottle of burgundy with no noticeable effect. Could he repudiate the marriage? Not without a shocking scandal which would leave him looking a total fool. Also, he suspected that the law was on the Ffolliots’ side.

Blast the girl. Couldn’t she even have joined him for dinner to make a show of wedded bliss for the servants? His conscience pointed out firmly that he had given her little cause to care what he wanted and that in all likelihood the girl was terrified of him.

Finally, after the footman had placed the brandy on the table, he began to consider the whole situation from Penelope’s perspective. He tried to understand why she had done it. Obviously she must care for her sisters and mother very much. It occurred to him, on a wave of shame, that his behaviour would have terrified even a girl who could see. What Penelope must have felt appalled him. He thought it must have resembled a nightmare for her and found himself unexpectedly thankful that the dog had been there. The courage she had shown in sending Gelert out before making her final admission became plain to him. At least I didn’t do anything, he thought, but that was small comfort as he recalled his final bitter comment.

He dismissed the footman and asked him to find Meadows. The butler arrived and said, ‘The dog has been fed and suitably housed for the night, my lord.’

‘Thank you, Meadows. Tell me, when you conducted her ladyship upstairs…’

‘I beg your pardon my lord, but her ladyship is still
in the study, I believe. She certainly did not ring to be conducted upstairs.’

At this point the true reason for Penelope’s nonappearance struck Darleston with all the force of a thunderbolt. He leapt to his feet in horror at his stupidity. ‘My God! Meadows, please bring some hot soup and rolls to her ladyship’s room in twenty minutes, do you mind? There’s a good chap. I’ll explain later and you can comb my hair for being such a fool!’

He raced out of the dining room across the hall to the study door. He recollected himself enough to knock lightly. There was no answer, so he opened the door and stepped in quietly. The inadequate words of apology died on his lips as he saw his bride, sound asleep on the sofa with traces of tears on her cheeks. He cursed himself silently for what he had done. All his anger had been unjust. The situation was his own fault for being arrogant. He would simply have to make the best of it and try to make the girl happy.

Softly he stepped over to the sofa and knelt beside it to take her hand. ‘Penelope! Wake up,’ he said gently. She did not stir immediately but when he spoke again, sat up in terror, trying to pull away from him. ‘Penelope, it’s all right. I have come to apologise and take you up to your room. Meadows is bringing you some food and then I shall leave you to sleep, I give you my word.’

He was horrified at the fear on her face but, to his relief, she relaxed slightly at his words. ‘That’s better. I cannot tell you how ashamed I am of the way I have behaved towards you. It was inexcusable, all of it. In truth it was my meetings with you, not your sister, which prompted me to believe “Miss Ffolliot’ would
be a suitable bride, so I can scarcely complain about which twin I received. As for your blindness, I can only say that my reaction was contemptible and I beg your pardon most humbly.’

Penelope was scarcely able to believe her ears at the change in his voice. She found her own voice with difficulty. ‘It is I who should apologise, Lord Darleston. We played a shabby trick on you, especially with regard to my blindness. If you wish to repudiate our marriage I would not blame you.’ She blew her nose and wiped her eyes, wishing that she could see him as she awaited his reply.

It surprised her. Peter put his hands on her shoulders and very gently pulled her into his arms. He held her lightly, resting his cheek against the auburn curls. ‘That seems a little drastic, since I got the right bride through no fault of my own. Unless you prefer to have nothing more to do with me I suggest we get to know each other and try to wipe out this bad start to our marriage.’

Penelope listened with tears trickling down her cheeks and whispered, ‘Thank you, my lord.’

P
enelope awoke the next morning to a gentle knock on her door. ‘Come in!’ she called. The door opened and she heard Gelert’s bark as he bounded into the room. Delighted to find his mistress, he leapt onto the bed to nuzzle her face. The rosy-cheeked maid who had brought him said shyly, ‘His lordship sent me to wait on you milady. I’ve brought some tea for you and his lordship’s compliments. He will be at your disposal this morning to show you over the house.’

‘Thank you,’ said Penelope, finding it odd to be called ‘milady’. She gave Gelert a last hug. ‘Off now.’ He jumped down beside the bed his tail beating a rhythmic tattoo on the floor. Penelope heard her maid approach the bed, and held out her hands for the tea. It was placed in her grasp very carefully.

‘Have you got it safely, milady?’ came an anxious enquiry. ‘We were told that you’re blind, and his lordship’s orders are for all of us to be sure to help you find your way about.’

‘That will be wonderful, thank you,’ said Penelope, sipping her tea. She smiled in the direction of the pleasant, eager voice. ‘What is your name?’

‘Ellen, milady.’

‘Will you be able to show me around until I know where everything is?’ asked Penelope hopefully. ‘Once I know the way to rooms and know the layout of the grounds I shall be all right with Gelert here. But if you are free to help at first, Ellen, I should be very grateful.’

‘Oh, milady, it would be a pleasure. Shall I pull back the curtains now?’

Penelope nodded and heard the girl cross to the window. Light flooded in. She was instantly aware of the difference, probably the room faced east, she thought. Thoughtfully she finished her tea while Ellen busied herself around the room. It seemed that the Earl was taking some thought for her well-being. When he had carried her upstairs the previous night he had seen to it that she finished the soup and rolls, had all that she needed and knew she could reach the bell-pull from her bed, but after that her memory was vague, for she had been very sleepy. Suddenly she realised that she was wearing a nightdress and wondered how she had got into it. Frowning, she tried to remember, but all she could recall was someone with very gentle hands and a tender voice. It dawned on her that her husband must have put her to bed. She blushed hotly at the thought of him undressing her.

‘Would you like to get up now milady?’ Ellen’s voice broke in on these embarrassing reflections.

‘Yes, I should get up. What is the time?’

‘Just after ten, milady. His lordship wouldn’t let us wake you any earlier. He said to take the dog up at ten and not before, unless you rang.’

‘Thank you, Ellen,’ said Penelope as she got up. ‘Did Gelert behave himself?’

‘Oh, yes, milady, except for frightening one of the grooms half to death, being as he didn’t know a dog was in that stall and he is such a size! Johnson, the head groom, told Mr Meadows that he’d had to persuade Fred not to give notice!’

Penelope laughed. ‘You don’t seem to mind him. I think someone made a lucky choice of maid for me!’

‘Oh, no, milady! The master told Mr Meadows to line up all the maids and ask which ones liked dogs, without telling them why, and then to bring in your dog and see if they still liked dogs! I was the only one who did!’ This last was said with great pride, and Penelope, after a startled moment, had to sit back on the bed, so hard did she laugh at this unorthodox method of selecting an abigail.

Half an hour later Ellen conducted her downstairs to the study, where Lord Darleston was awaiting her. She was a little nervous, both of her reception and of Gelert’s possible reaction to her husband. Ellen was a good guide, explaining the passages and doors very clearly so that by the time they reached the study Penelope knew she would be able to find her own way back. ‘Thank you, Ellen,’ said Penelope as they reached the study door. She knocked, and upon hearing her husband call, ‘Come in,’ she entered.

Peter was sitting at his desk, looking over some estate business, ‘Good morning, Penelope.’

Good morning, my lord.’

‘Peter.’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘Peter. My name is Peter. Peter Augustus, actually, but that’s almost as formal as my lord. Unless you prefer not to, please call me Peter in private.’

Penelope listened very carefully. All she could hear
in her husband’s voice was a friendly warmth. All yesterday’s anger seemed to have disappeared. She relaxed visibly. Peter, watching her intently, could see the tension ebb from her slender frame and was immeasurably relieved. He had slept badly the previous night. Every time he had nearly dropped off, his conscience had pricked him back to wakefulness. His behaviour continued to appal him; he could scarcely believe what he had done and he had resolved to make every effort to help Penelope settle in.

Furthermore he had received a very disquieting letter from Richard Winton that morning, which had been delivered by a messenger who had ridden all night to reach Darleston Court. He did not quite know how to reveal the contents of the letter to his wife. With any other girl he would have simply given it to her to read, but that was obviously impossible.

He decided to approach the matter obliquely. ‘Tell me, Penelope, were you very much disappointed that your brother did not appear to give you away?’

Penelope flushed and hesitated. She could not lie and say she
had
been upset when in reality she had been relieved! On the other hand it seemed so improper to tell Darleston—oh, dear, Peter!—just how much she disliked her half-brother.

Eventually she said quietly and without rancour, ‘I am afraid, Peter, that I was not in the least upset. My half-brother and I share a mutual dislike. I was far happier for my brother-in-law to give me away. Indeed, given the circumstances of our marriage, I should not be surprised to learn that Geoffrey was too embarrassed to face the pair of us!’

Peter was not really surprised. He could not imagine that there could have been much affection between
young Ffolliot and his proud sister. For she was proud, not arrogant or above herself, it was just that she had a certain dignity and gallantry in her bearing. The contrast with Geoffrey’s whining and somewhat shady character could not have been more marked. It occurred to him that she must have been bitterly galled by the knowledge that her brother was a cheat.

In his turn Peter hesitated, then he said simply, ‘Then I hope you will not be too upset to hear, that one of your grooms followed us here bearing a letter from Richard Winton. In it he asks me to break the news that your brother must have fallen down the cellar steps the night before last. Your mother’s butler found him early yesterday morning with a broken neck. He decided that it was better to wait until after our wedding to inform your mother. He did not wish to spoil your wedding day. I am sorry, Penelope.’ Peter could think of nothing further to say to his bride.

Her mouth dropped open in amazement. She looked to be completely stunned, and then shook her head, saying in disbelief, ‘Geoffrey is dead? Oh, dear God! And on our wedding day! I married you to avoid scandal! Not to inflame it! Whatever will people say?’

Peter had already thought about this and he had a ready answer. ‘We will just tell the truth. Accidents do happen, you know, and we can emphasise the story of the faithful old retainer not wishing to ruin his young mistress’s happy day!’ No need to tell the world that the bridegroom had seen to that without any outside assistance, he thought ruefully.

Penelope looked unconvinced. ‘Sell them a Banbury story, do you mean? Does Richard happen to mention just what Geoffrey was doing down in the cellar? Not that I need ask. No doubt he was in his cups as usual!’

Her husband nodded in embarrassment, and then realised how useless that was. ‘Er, yes, Winton does say that it appears Geoffrey was a trifle bosky.’

‘Bosky? A
trifle
bosky?’ was the scornful rejoinder. ‘I’m only surprised that he could get as far as the cellar!’ Then she recollected herself and said shamefacedly, ‘I beg your pardon, my lord—I mean Peter. But Geoffrey could be simply horrible. When your letter came he tried to bully Phoebe into marrying you even though she was already betrothed to Richard! And he wouldn’t even wear mourning for Papa! The kindest, most loving father!’ Tears stood in her eyes as she said this.

‘He didn’t bully you, I hope?’ asked Peter in real horror.

‘Certainly not!’ she retorted. ‘I would have told him to go to the devil if it had been just the debt. It was more the stigma for my mother and sisters. Besides, I used the situation to force Geoffrey into putting the whole estate under the control of a trust so that he could not continue to waste it. Under that trust it now goes to my little sister Sarah, since Phoebe and I don’t need it!’

‘I see,’ he replied slowly. ‘Then we need only consider the practicalities of the situation.’ Thoughtfully he eyed the gown of grey muslin in which his bride was arrayed and said, ‘I shall send to London for some new gowns for you. You are out of mourning—for your father, of course. And for a half-brother I believe a month’s half-mourning will suffice. So, since we are spending our time here quietly at Darleston Court, it should not be necessary to be terribly strict. Just as long as you don’t dash about the countryside in bright colours! Yes, some new gowns definitely!’ He hoped
this would change the subject, since Penelope was obviously chafed by it.

It certainly did effect a change of subject, but not quite in the way he had intended. Penelope flushed even more vividly than before. What must he think of her, not having suitable clothes for her new status? Well did she know that the simple gowns Phoebe and Mama had fashioned for her were out of place here. She lifted her head and said proudly, ‘There is not the slightest need, my lord. I have quite enough clothes for my needs.’ It occurred to her that she had been a trifle ungracious, and she stammered, ‘I…I mean it is very kind of your lordship, but I do not require new clothes or wish you to be spending a great deal of money upon me!’

Peter was taken aback. It was the first time in his career that an offer to supply new finery to a woman had been refused. Most of ’em, he thought cynically, would have presented him with a detailed list! Belatedly he remembered that the Ffolliots were not well off and that there had been very little time for Penelope to acquire any new gowns. He realised that his offer had sounded like a condemnation of her attire. Careful now! he thought.

‘Of course not!’ he said cheerfully. ‘’Twas just that I thought since you’d had no time to buy new clothes since you came out of mourning for your father it would give me great pleasure to do it for you! You can trust me to know what colours will suit you. I shall avoid pink. Something tells me that it will not be one of your favourites! And since you are to be in half-mourning initially, perhaps deep blues, even pale colours such as a lemon-yellow will be acceptable!’

Self-consciously Penelope raised a hand to her au
burn curls and admitted, ‘Indeed, pink is not a favourite! Neither Phoebe nor I ever wear it! We both prefer blues and greens.’ With an effort she smiled at her husband, saying, ‘I beg your pardon, my lord. If you wish to buy me some new gowns, I should like it very much.’

He smiled in relief. ‘Excellent. Ask Ellen to take your measurements and leave the rest to me.’ She could hear the smile in his voice.

‘Oh, one other little thing, Penelope…’

‘Yes, my lord?’

‘I think you are cheating.’

‘Cheating!’ The outrage in her voice was unmistakable.

Peter grinned at the reaction and continued, ‘Yes, cheating! I distinctly recall asking you to call me by my Christian name. You are being extremely disobedient, and if I do anything about it your dog will probably try to bite me again!’

‘Oh!’ She stopped in confusion. ‘I’m sorry he was so badly behaved, my…I mean, P-Peter. He is generally very good, but…’

Peter interrupted her, saying seriously, ‘You must not apologise for his behaviour, Penelope. I deserved it. I shouted at you and then tried to force my attentions on you. I’m glad he was there. Which brings me to something else.’

‘Yes, Peter?’ It was much easier as you went along, she discovered.

She heard him clear his throat. He sounds nervous, she thought in amazement.

‘Our relationship,’ he said carefully. Oh God! How to put it? He rustled some papers. ‘At the present I
have no intention of insisting upon my…my rights as a husband.’

And just what, wondered Penelope, does the well-bred bride reply to that? To her absolute horror she heard herself asking, ‘Why not?’

Peter was also rather taken aback. That was the last response he had expected! ‘Well, we don’t know each other very well yet. I…I don’t wish to force myself upon you.’

‘Because I am blind.’ It was not a question, but a statement. She flushed in embarrassment. It was the same old problem. Someone unable to accept her affliction without pitying her. Perhaps he even found it distasteful.

Peter heard the pain in her voice, saw the crimson stain her cheeks and was puzzled. What had he said to hurt her? ‘Yes,’ he said gently. ‘I think it would be unfair for me to insist you share my bed before you have learnt to know me and trust me, especially after yesterday.’

All she could hear in his voice was sincere concern. Yes, he was kind, this husband of hers, despite his loss of temper the previous day. He was not extending patronage or pity, but simply behaving in accordance with the dictates of his honour. ‘Thank you, Peter.’ She did not know what else to say, how to apologise for her suspicions.

He looked at her carefully, not really understanding what had upset her. It occurred to him that it would be just as important for him to understand her, to avoid future mistakes.

Diffidently he said, ‘I thought that today I should perhaps show you over the house and part of the gardens. Ellen, your maid, will also help you. Un
fortunately she has not had much experience as a lady’s maid, but…’

‘She likes Gelert!’ Penelope finished his sentence with a chuckle. ‘Thank you, Peter. Ellen told me about how you chose her. If you have time to show me around today that would be lovely. Once I know where everything is Gelert will be able to guide me.’