Authors: Diane Davis White
When she had recovered somewhat she parried, leaning forward to whisper a question of her own. "This man who would give me the child... who should he be, then?"
"We have in mind a perfectly nice gentleman, who will be well compensated for his... his cooperation, and you will have no taint upon yourself whatsoever, I can assure you."
A long silence ensued while Hannah thought over the strange terms, her aversion and horror weighing against the alternative—which was no better in her eyes. But to be impregnated by a stranger, in order to bring forth an heir was, indeed, a daunting thought.
"Think on this, if you will." The solicitor patted her hand and spoke in gentle tones. "You have only to spend a small amount of time... a year perhaps... doing this duty. After that you will be free to pursue a life of luxury and be accorded the respect and privileges of one of the most ancient and prestigious families of the peerage. Your life will be dramatically different than what you now face."
"Is that why I have been chosen? My drastic circumstances?"
"Yes. While it is true, however, your excellent lineage has a deal to do with it as well."
"If I consent, I should like to negotiate a few terms of my own. Is that agreeable?"
"Well, of course, I cannot speak for his lordship, but if you would give me your terms, I shall convey them and we can... "
"I would have this done now. What I am asking should not affect his lordship at all, but hear me out and decide for yourself."
She leaned closer and began to whisper her terms, leaving the solicitor with raised eyebrows and a deal more respect for the young lady's wit than he'd had up to now.
.
* * * * *
.
Within the hour, Lady Hannah DeLacey found herself ensconced in the luxurious traveling carriage of the Marquis of Darlington, her few possessions and mementos safely strapped in the luggage bin. She sat back in a daze and let her head fall against the soft cushion, her eyes closed in weariness as the day's events washed over her.
It was difficult to countenance, but she would soon be the Marchioness of Darlington and a very wealthy lady in her own right. What she had to do to accomplish this was a matter that she pushed to the back of her mind with some difficulty.
"Your relative was quite put out, was he not?" Mr. Maguire was well pleased with the results of this day's business, and could not help thinking of the outrage and helplessness on the earl's face when he had been forced to sign over the guardianship of Hannah.
Maguire, a self-professed master at deception, had threatened the twiddle-pated earl with all manner of mysterious retribution from the Marquis, and hinted at the crown becoming involved as well, for the girl had a slender attachment to royalty through her mother.
He smiled to think on it, and when he realized he must look a fool, grinning at nothing, he schooled his features to a more dignified appearance. And promptly grinned again as he continued to recount the events in his mind.
He decided his smooth handling of the situation had saved the day when he negotiated a rather sticky bit of bargaining. He'd pointed out that, though he had initially misled the earl regarding the ward-ship, he stood ready to pursue in the courts a matter of the earl's non-compliance with the wishes of his majesty.
The poor fool had actually believed him, and signed with a shaking hand. Mister Maguire barked a short laugh, earning a puzzled look from his traveling companion. He put a hand to his mouth and quickly turned the guffaw into a cough. He did so enjoy a good dust up, and didn't always get the satisfaction he'd derived today, and thought his behavior no less than inspired. Another bark of laughter slipped out and he quickly turned that into a cough also.
"Are you ailing?" her sweet voice inquired, intruding on his ruminations, but not so that he could resent it. It was rather nice to be the recipient of her concern. He answered with a smile that he was perfectly all right, then leaned back, closing his eyes and hoping he would give her no further cause for alarm.
He recalled soundly admonishing the fellow—not in the girl's hearing, of course—to see to it that none of her private possessions should be left behind, and again lied smoothly, telling the earl that he had done an inventory of his own on an earlier occasion, and would be quite put out to find anything missing.
He frowned at the thought of the few pitiful possessions actually stored in the luggage bin. The family had been quite impoverished for some time; many of her gowns were mended, and some even tattered with wear. Her trinkets, a few baubles from her mother, were paste only, and her small reticule contained nine pence, ten shillings. A paltry sum for the daughter of an earl.
.
* * * * *
.
It was late afternoon when they arrived at Darlington manor and the sun—dipping low in the west—created long shadows on the sumptuous green lawn, the enormous ancient trees weaving those shadows back and forth in a light breeze.
Hannah caught her breath at the sight of the huge brick structure, no less than four stories with windows straight across on every floor. She counted six chimneys before they came close enough to keep her view from the rooftops.
Hannah met her husband, a seemingly kind, elderly gentleman, who put her immediately at her ease. Not sure what she'd expected, she was nevertheless charmed by his engaging manner—the remnants of the handsome man he had once been evident in his devil may care smile.
He was, however, stooped and aged, thin and angular. The once-tall, straight form bent beneath the weight of his many years.
Hannah thought perhaps he might be persuaded to take the air, and get some color in his sallow cheeks. And a masseuse found to aid in strengthening his muscles so he might stand straighter.
"You are tired, I know, my child. However I have arranged for a London magistrate, brought to Darlington Manor for just this purpose, to wed us with all haste."
His voice—stronger than his appearance would suggest—retained an autocratic demand, so subtle yet so very evident in his manner.
One did not gainsay this personage, she thought. He might have, in an earlier age, hanged men for disobedience. Perhaps he still might. She shuddered inwardly to think so.
"Of course, your Grace," she demurred, wondering at the haste, then deciding at his age, time was not on his side. "I would have a moment to freshen up, then we shall proceed."
A brief trip to her rooms, a hasty wash up and a quick cup of tea sufficed to bring her to some semblance of herself. She returned to the massive library in time to be introduced to the magistrate and his assistant. They proceeded instantly to business.
Hannah signed the marriage lines first, her shaking hand dripping ink so that a new contract had to be drawn. After conferring with the solicitor, the marquis came to her with a new nib. She signed again, this time steady enough not to ruin the crisp new document.
There was no ceremony to speak of. Just their signatures on the parchment to bind the contract. They did, however, share a glass of champagne with their guests, who quickly departed.
She spent her first night as a bride playing a game of chess with her husband, and went early to her bed, alarmed by what she had agreed to. Hannah was determined, however, to fulfill her marriage contract—and, no matter how distasteful—fulfill the bargain she had made, as well.
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* * * * *
.
In his suite of rooms in the far eastern wing of the house, David hid himself during the ceremony, keeping well away from the new mistress, as instructed. An hour after her arrival, he was paid a visit by Mr. Maguire, who laid out Hannah's conditions for accepting the contract of marriage and the additional bargain.
For what seemed like an infinite amount of time, David stared at the solicitor, his mouth working but no sound issuing forth. Having just been informed of the lady's terms, he was wont to give over the entire scheme and return to London, post haste.
Finally, he drew breath and spewed forth his objections. "That is not possible. She must be mad... how can one conduct such an alliance without words? And in total darkness? Has she a deformity? Is she that ugly, sir?"
He leaned forward eagerly, hoping for enlightenment.
"Though I would not call her a beauty, she has no deformities, and is quite presentable. She demurs at the idea of bedding a man under these circumstances, and wishes to remain anonymous and to keep you at arm's length, if you will."
"Anonymous?" David could not believe his ears. "How, then shall the lady expect to remain anonymous if I am bedding her in the house of the Earl of Darlington? Is she that naïve?"
"She believes that you will be led here blindfolded and not told anything except your duty is to impregnate the wife of a wealthy man unable to beget an heir. She knows nothing else."
The solicitor paused, then said almost reluctantly. "Yes, she is naïve, but not stupid by any means."
David heard the warning behind the words, and bristled slightly at being spoken to in such a manner. He was somewhat mollified when the man next spoke.
"I have a great regard for the shrewdness of the lady, and was not disappointed in her request. It gives great insight into her morals and intellect." Pausing, the older man's shrewd gaze assessed David to such a degree of truth, he became uncomfortable.
He went on in a patient voice, "As you pointed out to me yourself, this is an act of adultery. In her eyes, you are a possible source of blackmail or, at the very least, some discomfort to her. She does not know, of course, who will actually be selected, and as we told you David, you are not to give her a hint of your identity."
"How can I? I will be in the woods, wasting away in that demned cottage all day, and at night I will be in a darkened room, mute and probably impotent."
"I should think not. Well, you
will
be mute, but you are a healthy male, and put into the young woman's bed, I am sure you will find yourself capable, and most likely, very willing."
Mr. Maguire grinned his officious grin and turned his eyes to the ceiling. "She is not ugly, as I said, and given time, you will produce the heir, collect your inheritance and be on your way. Quite simple, actually."
"Simple? Well, if it is... then
you
should present yourself in her chambers tonight." Piqued at the solicitor's off-hand manner, David could not stop himself baiting the very proper gentleman. "My father would never know the difference... "
"Can you cease this foolishness?" Mr. Maguire flushed at the implication. His sensibilities affronted at the idea, he spoke in a harsh tone, "Give over lad. You are just a bit nervous and will come up to scratch when the time is on you."
"Tell me this, then. What does she mean exactly by
impersonal performance
? I cannot envision anything impersonal about this particular act, and it puzzles me no end... "
"I believe that she means no foreplay, no prostrations of fond regard, no... fondling. That sort of thing." Knowing full well that his duty had been discharged and he was now into an area that was treading on delicate ground indeed, the solicitor hedged his words. "Rather like bedding a prostitute. Just do the deed and be gone."
"I can hardly treat her like a prostitute. She is the daughter of an earl and a gently bred lady. What could she be thinking?"
"Probably has no notion of what will happen, truth be known. Virginal misses seldom do, you know. Be careful not to display an unwarranted amount of lust and try to keep your demned mouth shut."
"That will be almost impossible. Why, I wonder, does she insist on that particular?" David could not imagine a tryst without some conversation. "How will she even know I am there... if it is dark, as you say it will be?"