The Six Month Marriage (21 page)

Such depth he had not expected to come across in one so
young; nor in a woman, no matter what her age. Most women led such sheltered
lives they had no need of depth or courage, intelligence or understanding. But
Madeline’s life had been difficult, and had taught her lessons that the vapid
and insipid young misses who irritated him would never learn.

And yet all these qualities were wrapped up with gentler
features: a sense of humour that, despite the hardness of her early life,
bubbled just beneath the surface; a consideration for others that had been
evident on her visits to see the tenants; and an enjoyment of life that her
early years had not been able to crush.

Yes, he was in love with her, no matter how young she
might be. And what a fool he had been for not seeing it before.

But Letitia . . .

What a coil it was. He had been wrong to think he could
marry Letitia, and yet it would not be the act of a gentleman to draw back now.
But how could he not draw back? He couldn’t possibly marry Letitia now that he
knew he loved Madeline.

He shook his head. Although he knew that it was a
problem that would have to be faced sooner or later, just for the moment he did
not want to think of it.

But even if the problem of Letitia was solved, he knew
there were other problems facing him. Although he had realised he was in love
with Madeline he did not know what her feelings were for him.

She was afraid of marriage, that much he had discovered.
To begin with, he had thought she was simply afraid of men, and had thought that
was a natural result of having been Gareth
Delaware
’s ward. But he had come to realise it was more than that; she was
afraid of marriage itself. But why? That was the question he could not answer.

What had her parents’ marriage been like? he wondered.
Had it been warm and loving, as the marriage of his own parents had been? Or
had it been cold and hard? He had no way of knowing. But what he did know was
that he must show her just how fulfilling and rewarding a marriage could be if
he was going to have a chance to win her hand, not just as a temporary
arrangement, but for ever.

And here he had an advantage: time and circumstances
were on his side. He was already married to Madeline, at least in name, and he
knew that she had begun to enjoy herself as his wife. He had seen her start to
relax in his company, despite the fact that they often crossed swords, and he
had watched her bloom and blossom into a confident young woman.

And then he thought of the other sides of marriage. He
knew that she had physical feelings for him, although he suspected that she
herself did not yet understand them. She had led a knowing life in some ways,
being exposed to her uncle’s crude and leering cronies, but in the matter of
fulfilling physical feelings between a man and a woman she was a complete
innocent. But he wanted her to experience them, and he wanted her to experience
them with him.

He had a little over four months in which to teach her
that marriage was to be enjoyed rather than feared, he realised.

He meant to make the most of them.

‘At
last!’ Philip smiled, then gave the letter he had been reading to Madeline. ‘Emma
is over her cold. She will be here at the end of next week.’

Madeline picked up the letter and read it with pleasure.
It seemed she was finally going to meet her sister-in-law.

She had had some qualms about imposing on Emma’s
credibility, but Philip had seemed unconcerned. He had told her that she was
not deceiving anyone: that she really was his wife; that she was in fact Emma’s
sister-in-law; and therefore need have no guilty conscience about being
introduced as such.

At last Madeline had come to see it from Philip’s point
of view. She was indeed the Countess of Pemberton, and as she did not want Emma
to be burdened with a true account of their marriage, she felt it was better to
do as Philip suggested, allowing Emma to enjoy meeting her new sister-in-law.

And Madeline was concerned that Emma should enjoy
herself. She wanted to make sure that Emma’s time in
Yorkshire
was happy. Indeed, if she had really been Philip’s wife, his true
wife, she would have suggested that Emma should come and live with them. But as
she herself was only to be the mistress of the Manor until the end of December
she could make no such suggestion, much as she would have liked to do so.

She was just about to hand the letter back to Philip
when she heard a carriage drawing up in front of the Manor. She was surprised,
as she was not expecting anyone. But perhaps it was Clarissa. Handing Philip
the letter she went to the window to see who their guest might be. The carriage
come to a halt, the door opened, the step was let down . . . and out of it came
Letitia Bligh. As Madeline watched, Letitia straightened up. The elegant young
woman regarded the Manor with a proprietorial air before opening her
fashionable parasol. Then, sheltering her flawless complexion from the summer
sun, she walked up to the front door.

Following her at a distance of some five or six paces
was her mousy companion.

Madeline froze. She did not know why, but for some
reason she had not expected to see Letitia at the Manor. And yet why not?
Letitia had every right to be there; more right, if truth be told, than
Madeline herself.

In another minute the door opened and Crump announced, ‘Miss
Bligh.’

Letitia was the epitome of fashionable elegance as she
swept into the room, her willowy figure displaying her silk carriage dress with
its exquisite lace trimmings to great advantage.

‘Philip!’ Letitia greeted Philip in beautifully
modulated tones. She crossed the room towards him, completely ignoring Madeline,
and took his arm, kissing him on the cheek. ‘I am just on my way to stay with
friends in Scotland, and as the carriage had to pass so close by the Manor I
could not resist the idea of calling to see you on the way.’

‘Letitia.’ Philip returned her greeting.

‘And Madeline,’ said Letitia, at last deigning to notice
Madeline. ‘It is delightful to see you again.’ She put her free hand firmly on
Philip’s arm as she spoke and smiled at Madeline with a tigress’s smile -
making sure, however, that Philip did not see it.

Madeline greeted Letitia coolly.

Philip invited Letitia to sit down, but she looked out
of the window and said, ‘It is such a pleasant day, and I have been sitting for
so long in the carriage. Can we not take a stroll?’

‘If you wish,’ he replied.

Taking a stroll with Letitia and Philip, watching them
laughing and talking together was the last thing Madeline wanted to do, but for
the sake of politeness it could not be avoided.

As they left the Manor, Philip offered one arm to
Madeline and the other to Letitia.

‘And how are you enjoying your time at the Manor?’
Letitia asked Madeline, as they strolled along the gravel paths that surrounded
the Manor.

‘I am enjoying it very well,’ said Madeline, feeling ill
at ease. Letitia was somehow managing to remind her of the temporary nature of
her marriage to Philip by talking of “your time at the Manor”, whilst seeming
to be doing nothing more than making polite conversation.

‘And Emma is soon to join you, I understand,’ Letitia
continued. ‘How tiresome you will find it, having a young girl dogging your
footsteps and demanding to be taken out and about. You must be firm with her,
and make her realise you will stand no nonsense.’

‘I don’t believe I will find it tiresome,’ remarked
Madeline. She was looking forward to the young girl’s visit, having heard a
great deal about her from Philip, and hoped to make her feel at home.

‘Really?’ Letitia laughed. ‘I think you will be
surprised. Girls of that age think of nothing but parties and expect their
elders and betters to escort them to every provincial amusement, no matter how
inconvenient it may be. They should be kept in the nursery, in my opinion, like
the children they really are, and not let out until they are of marriageable
age. Do you not think so, Philip?’ she asked, turning her face up to his.

‘If you say so,’ he replied.

Letitia seemed satisfied with his reply, but to Madeline
it had seemed wooden. Letitia and Philip had different ideas where Emma - and
any other children - were concerned, it seemed.

Still, it was nothing to do with her. And so she firmly
reminded herself.

Letitia, clearly feeling she had wasted enough time on
Madeline, turned her attention to Philip and started regaling him with stories
about people who, though known to Letitia and Philip, were completely unknown
to Madeline.

They walked as far as the ha-ha, a clever contrivance
which took the form of a deep ditch separating the lawns from the park beyond.
The ha-ha ensured that the sheep and deer which grazed in the park did not
invade the gardens and eat the carefully cultivated plants. It was so much
better than a wall or fence, thought Madeline appreciatively, as, excluded from
the conversation, she turned her attention to the landscape. A wall or fence
would obscure the view, but the ha-ha allowed the view to continue
uninterrupted for as far as the eye could see.

‘Oh, my! It’s so lovely here!’ said Letitia’s timid
companion.

‘Have you been to
Yorkshire
before?’ asked Madeline kindly, engaging the elderly lady in
conversation.

‘Oh, yes!’ she said, going pink and looking flustered at
being spoken to so politely by a countess. ‘But it is not all as pretty as
this!’

When they again walked on, Madeline took the opportunity
of pointing out the various views to Letitia’s companion, and in this way she
gave herself a reason to let go of Philip’s arm and walk ahead with the elderly
spinster. Slowly but surely, Letitia and Philip dropped further and further
behind them. Madeline was glad. She was not comfortable in their company, and
as she could not very well go back to the house without seeming rude, this was
the best solution. It spared her from being a third party in their conversation
whilst preserving the niceties.

Philip
felt the loss of Madeline’s hand on his arm immediately. He listened to Letitia
without hearing anything she said, and was instead absorbed in watching
Madeline. She looked very becoming in her layered white muslin gown, with her
blue satin slippers and a blue ribbon threaded through her hair.

‘. . . the Regent has always had a soft spot for him,
but if he is not careful, Brummell will one day overstep the mark - you’re not
listening to me, Philip,’ said Letitia, realising that it was so.

‘Hm?’ Philip, recalled to the conversation, apologised. ‘You
were saying?’ he asked, reluctantly giving her his attention.

‘I was saying that Brummell has been getting careless
recently, and has made one or two remarks that the Regent has not quite liked.
But you are not interested in Brummell’s latest
mots
,
bon
or
otherwise. And it’s easy to see why.’ Letitia glanced at Madeline.

‘Letitia,’ he began. He had been wanting to speak to her
about their future, or lack of it, ever since he had realised he was in love
with Madeline but as she had been travelling he had not had an opportunity to
do so. Her visit, however, had provided him with the chance he needed, and now
that her flow of conversation had come to an end he knew he must speak.

To his surprise, however, before he could say any more,
Letitia held up her hand. ‘Don’t tell me.’ She gave a bright smile. ‘Let me
guess.’

Philip was so surprised that he said nothing.

With perfect good humour Letitia said, ‘You are
distracted because you have realised you can’t go ahead and marry me. You have
fallen in love with Madeline, and you find that a marriage of convenience with
me is no longer what you want. But you are too much of a gentleman to feel
comfortable about going back on our agreement, even though it was not binding
on either of us - which, as I recall, was my doing and not yours.’

Philip looked at her in amazement. ‘How did you know?’
he asked.

She smiled winningly. ‘It is obvious. At least, it is
obvious to someone who knows you as well as I do.’

He looked at her curiously. ‘And do you not mind?’ He
was surprised as he took in her clear eyes and her understanding smile. ‘I know
how much you wanted to be a countess, Letitia. I thought you would be angry,
and yet you seem to be taking it very well.’

She gave a shrug of her elegant shoulders. ‘What other
way is there to take it? There was never any formal agreement between us and
besides, you are already married to Madeline. I can’t force you to annul the
marriage. If I created a scene it would make no difference; it wouldn’t change
anything. You would still be Madeline’s husband and she would still be your
wife. And so I wish you happy.’ She looked ahead to Madeline. ‘She is a
delightful young woman. You have made a good choice.’

Philip’s eyes, too, went to Madeline. In doing so they
missed the gleam of pure hatred that darted suddenly from Letitia’s eye.