The Six Month Marriage (4 page)

Jason nodded. ‘I see what you mean. But couldn’t you
find some penniless young lady, then? Someone who wouldn’t embarrass you, but
who would be glad to go through with the subterfuge, in return for a handsome
compensation when the six months were over?’

‘No young lady would agree to such an arrangement: it
would jeopardise her chances of making a permanent marriage. And beside, her
family would never let her.’

Jason sighed. ‘It’s hopeless, then.’

Philip nodded. ‘So I thought. I’d already dismissed the
idea - when I ran across Miss
Delaware
.’

‘Miss
Delaware
? Do you mean the flash of scarlet satin I saw following Mrs Green
up the stairs belonged to Miss Delaware?’ he asked incredulously.

‘It did.’ Philip’s face became brooding. The sharp lines
of his face were deeply etched, and looked even more severe in the candlelight.
He took a drink from his glass.

‘Tell me,’ he went on, ‘what do you know about the
Delawares
?’

Jason shifted uncomfortably. ‘Not a lot, really. That
is, only what everyone knows.’

‘Which is?’

‘Which is . . . that Gareth Delaware’s a drunken sot who’s
run through his own fortune, and would have run through his niece’s fortune if
it hadn’t been tied up.’

‘And what do you know about his treatment of his niece?’
asked Philip

Jason looked even more uncomfortable. ‘That most of the
time he keeps her under lock and key. That she’s hardly ever seen at parties or
concerts or routs, and that even when she
is
seen she’s not allowed to
speak to anyone, at least not to say more than two or three words, after which
her uncle or her chaperon moves her on.’

Philip nodded. That fit in with his own knowledge, and
with what he had seen when he had been introduced to Madeline at Lady Appleton’s
ball. Strange, the introduction had been several months ago, but its impression
had lingered. She had looked very different then, of course. She had been
dressed in a simple muslin gown, and her face had been pure and natural, not
smeared with gaudy paint, whilst her hair had been demurely arranged. Even so
there had been something about her elfin face and haunted eyes that had
remained with him. So that almost as soon as he had seen her again, despite her
crimson gown and painted face, he had remembered who she was.

But that did not solve the problem of why her uncle had
dressed her as a harlot, or why she had been wandering the streets, at night,
alone.

‘You don’t know if he had any plans for her?’ asked
Philip meditatively.

‘Well . . . ’ began Jason.

‘Yes?’

‘I had heard . . . only on the grapevine, mind . . .
that he’s heavily in debt again: to Lucius Spalding this time.’

‘Spalding? You don’t mean he was planning to marry her
to that monster?’ demanded Philip.

Jason looked unhappy. ‘It’s only what I’ve heard. But it
seems likely. Her dowry would cover his gambling debts. Or so the rumour goes.
But what’s your interest in her?’ he asked. ‘Besides the fact that you stumbled
across her when you’d left young Mr Murgo?’ A look of realisation began to dawn
on his face. ‘You don’t mean . . . you’re not going to ask
her
to be
your temporary bride?’ asked Jason in surprise.

Philip turned hawk-like eyes on his friend. ‘I mean exactly
that.’

‘But won’t she bore you every bit as much as any other
young lady?’

‘Undoubtedly,’ said Philip. ‘But only for six months!’

Madeline
followed Mrs Green up the stairs.

As she did so she looked about her with interest. The
house she now found herself in was the complete opposite of her uncle’s.
Whereas Gareth’s house was dark and dirty, Lord Pemberton’s house was light and
bright and scrupulously clean – a tribute to Mrs Green, Madeline supposed.

She was rather unsure of Mrs Green. Her experience of
life had taught her to mistrust people as a general rule, servants as well as
equals. It was Miss Handley, after all, who had been her chief gaoler at her
uncle’s house. But the housekeeper seemed to have no inclination to watch her or
bully her, and simply showed Madeline into one of the guest rooms.

‘I’ll have hot water brought up to you directly, miss,’
she said. ‘If there’s anything you want, you have only to ring the bell.’ And
then she departed, leaving Madeline alone.

The bedroom was very pretty, and could not have been
more different from her own dark and sombre bedroom at her uncle’s house.
Sprigged drapes surrounded the four-poster bed and matching curtains covered
the window. An inlaid dressing-table stood against the far wall, and next to it
was a rosewood wardrobe. Over in the corner stood a rosewood bookcase and a
dainty chest of drawers. A delicate washstand, complete with basin and jug,
nestled in the corner. She was at first hesitant about opening the wardrobe,
but Mrs Green having told her that the dresses in the guest room were no longer
worn by Miss Emma, who was staying with relatives in Bath, Madeline finally
overcame her scruples. She looked through dozens of gowns, marvelling over the
pretty yet discreet styles. She finally chose a white muslin with a scoop
neckline and little puffed sleeves and laid it on the bed.

As soon as the water arrived, brought up by a neat maid,
she washed the powder and paint from her face, feeling much better as soon as
she had done so. Then she began to undress.

What help did
Lord Pemberton propose to offer her? she wondered, as her thoughts returned to
the hawk-like man below. She stripped off the crimson dress. Did his sister
perhaps need a companion, or . . . she blushed furiously as another, more
unwelcome, idea leapt into her mind. There was only one kind of proposal a man
would make to a young lady whose reputation was ruined – and she knew that,
having left her uncle’s protection, her reputation was ruined for ever. How
could she have been so blind?

She sank down
on the bed feeling suddenly deflated.

But why, then,
if that was the answer, had he treated her so respectfully in front of Mrs
Green and told her to change out of the crimson gown? She shook her head. It
did not seem to make sense. But whatever the reason she knew she would never
agree to becoming his mistress, no matter how strangely intoxicating she had
found his kiss.

She pushed the
thought aside. It troubled her deeply to remember her response to his embrace,
and she preferred not to think about it.

She stood up
and returned to the task in hand, putting on the white gown. It was a little
tight, and a little short, but the muslin was very soft, far softer than the
muslins she was used to, and it was very pretty, being trimmed with a satin
ribbon beneath the high waist.

With the
change of clothes her self-confidence began to return. She sat down on the bed
and thought over her difficult situation. With her mind working clearly once
again, she decided what she would do. Once she joined Lord Pemberton downstairs
she would thank him for rescuing her, and then forestall his plan to make her
his mistress by asking him if he knew of any respectable family in need of a
governess. If she could only secure herself a position, preferably a long way
away from
London
, then she would be able
to support herself respectably. And, if her luck held, she would be able to
escape from her uncle completely so that she would never have to see him again.

Noticing that
her hair had fallen loose she did her best to repair the damage before plucking
up her courage and going downstairs. She hesitated, wondering which way to go,
but a light was coming from under one of the doors. She went towards it.
Pushing it open, she found herself entering the library.

A warm glow
met her eyes. Tall bookcases shone in the candlelight. The gilding on the
spines of the books threw out gleams of gold. Dark green curtains drawn across
the windows kept out the night. It was a room to be used, Madeline realised; a
room in which the Earl could write his letters at the large desk which was set
against one wall, or sit reading in one of the wing-backed chairs that flanked
the fireplace.

She was
pleased to see that he was alone. She had half expected to see Mr Fellows, but
it seemed that Lord Pemberton’s guest had gone.

Lord Pemberton
himself was standing with his foot on the fender, the candlelight playing over
his craggy face. She paused for a moment, studying his bronzed skin, his firm
chin and his fierce scar. How had he come by it? she wondered. But she had time
to wonder about nothing else as he turned at the sound of the door opening.

He took his
foot from the fender and was about to speak when she forestalled him by saying,
‘Lord Pemberton. I want to thank you for your kindness in rescuing me from the
dangers outside, and to ask if you could help me to secure a position. If you
know of any respectable family in need of a governess —’

‘Kindness?’ he
interrupted.

She looked
startled; and before she could reply he said, ‘When you know me better you will
realise that I am not in the habit of being kind. I rescued you, as you put it,
because I wanted to. And before you talk any more nonsense about becoming a
governess, you will do me the courtesy of sitting down and listening to the
proposal I have to put to you.’

‘That is just
it,’ said Madeline, ‘I can’t. I’m not that kind of person.’ She straightened
her shoulders and lifted her chin. ‘I’m grateful for all you’ve done for me,
but I cannot accept
carte blanche
.’

His eyes lit with amusement, and he threw
back his head and laughed. ‘
Carte blanche
! My dear Miss
Delaware
, that is just as well, as I would
not dream of offering it.’

‘You wouldn’t?’ She was bewildered. ‘But . .
. ’ She remembered the feel of his lips on hers and the way his body had
pressed close to her own. A strange weakness came over her at the memory, and
before her legs could give way she sank into one of the chairs.

‘Ah,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘The kiss. I
behaved unforgivably. At the time I thought you were . . . something else . . .
and kissing you seemed the simplest way of convincing the drunks you were under
my protection and therefore not worth the trouble of molesting. I could have
knocked them down, of course, but it seemed preferable to solve the problem without
resorting to violence.’ He sat down opposite her in the other chair. ‘No. My
proposition is of a different kind.’

Madeline, recovering a little, was curious
to hear what he had to say.

He stretched his legs out in front of him
and frowned, as if finding it difficult to know where to begin. ‘You know that
if your uncle comes here I will have no authority to keep you from him –’

He got no
further. Madeline, leaping to her feet, declared, ‘I will not go back to him.’

She faced him
determinedly, steeling herself for the angry shouts she expected would follow.
Whenever she had stood up to her uncle, either shouts or threats had always
followed. But to her surprise, none came. Disconcerted, she warily resumed her
seat. ‘I can’t go back,’ she said more quietly. ‘If you would help me, give me
a reference, I could find myself employment as a governess, perhaps, or a
companion. I could go right away from
London
, somewhere my uncle will never find me. I know it is a lot
to ask but —’

‘That won’t be necessary,’ he said. ‘There
is another way.’ He paused, as though choosing his words carefully. ‘Miss
Delaware
, I am faced with a dilemma. If
you agree to help me it will solve your problem as well as my own.’

She was
interested now. ‘Go on.’

‘Very well. My
dilemma concerns the subject of my inheritance.’ He paused, frowned, and then
continued. ‘My father died just over a year ago but, because of one of the
clauses in his will, I did not immediately inherit the
Rochdale
fortune. I will not be able to
inherit it until I have been married for six months. That in itself does not
present a problem. I fully intend to marry, but unfortunately my father did not
like my choice of bride. So that, if I marry Letitia, I will lose the fortune
for ever.’

‘I’m sorry,’
she said.

He smiled; a
warm smile. It brought his face to life and she found it strangely attractive.

‘However,
there is a solution to the problem,’ he said. ‘If I arrange a temporary
marriage with another young lady – any young lady, so long as she is not
Letitia - and take her home to my
Yorkshire
estate, I can claim my fortune once I have been
married for six months. I can then have the marriage annulled and I can go on
to marry Miss Bligh with the fortune already in my hands.’

‘Ah! I see.’ Madeline was beginning to
understand the nature of his proposal. ‘And you want me to be that other young
lady?’

‘I do.’

‘But how will
that solve
my
dilemma?’ she asked. She did not like the idea of a sham
marriage but in her desperate situation she was forced to consider it.