The Six Month Marriage (8 page)

‘What a clever idea to hold the wedding here,’ said
Letitia, looking round the small church with a patronising air. ‘It would have
been dreadful to hold it in town, with a horde of people gawping at you. It is
so cosy here. So . . . obscure.’

She gave a smug smile, as though contrasting the small
church with the splendid church in which she herself intended to be married.

‘But Philip, do tell me when you are leaving for
Yorkshire
,’ she went on, turning her back
on Madeline and effectively cutting her out of the conversation.

Leaving Letitia and Philip to their discussion, Madeline
began walking towards the door of the church, meaning to see if the rain had
stopped. But before she had gone half way the gentleman who had been sitting
with Letitia accosted her and swept her a low bow.

‘Lord Hadley, Countess,’ he said, turning mocking eyes
towards her. ‘But let us not stand on ceremony. You must call me Robert. I’m
Letitia’s cousin.’

‘Lord Hadley,’ said Madeline with a slight inclination
of her head.

‘Ah! Madeline! You cut me to the quick! Will you not
call me Robert? But I see that you won’t. A pity, as we are . . .connected . .
. you might say. You are Philip’s first wife, and my cousin is his second!
Although we must not speak of that here,’ he said in an exaggerated whisper. ‘One
never knows who might be listening.’ He made a pantomime of looking round.

There was something jeering in his manner and Madeline
did not respond to his sally.

He gave her an arch look. ‘You don’t find it a subject
for mirth, Countess? But I do. I find it delicious. A sham marriage to claim an
inheritance. What a stroke of genius. Philip is a lucky man. He not only gets
Letitia, he gets the fortune as well.’ He looked at Madeline thoughtfully, and
a gleam of malice entered his eye. ‘But what, my dear Madeline, is in it for
you?’

‘That is between the Earl and myself,’ said Madeline
shortly. She had no intention of telling Lord Hadley about her private affairs,
nor indeed of continuing the conversation.

But Lord Hadley was not to be so easily put off. ‘It’s
very good of you to go through with it,’ he said, refusing to let the subject
drop. ‘Very noble and disinterested. On the surface, at least. But what, I
wonder, lies underneath?’

Madeline had had enough of such an unpleasant
conversation and decided to put an end to it. ‘Good day, Lord Hadley,’ she said
coldly, then turned on her heel.

‘A word of warning,’ he said, moving to block her path.
There was a note of menace in his voice. ‘If you’re thinking of double-crossing
Letitia, then you’d better think again.’

‘Let me pass,’ said Madeline.

But Lord Hadley did not move, and when Madeline took a
step to go round him he countered her move. ‘Why would a sensible woman - and I’m
sure you’re a sensible woman, my dear Madeline - why would a sensible woman
marry an Earl and then let him go, I ask myself? The answer is, she wouldn’t.
She would marry him, yes, but give him up? Give up all that power? Give up all
that wealth? No, a sensible woman would hang on to him. And how would she do
that? The answer is obvious. By tempting him to consummate the marriage.’ His
eyes became hard. ‘It’s a good plan, Madeline, but one I suggest you abandon.’
There was a threat in his voice now. ‘Letitia doesn’t like to be crossed, and
believe me, she isn’t someone you want as an enemy.’ And then he smiled once
again. ‘Remember that, won’t you? It is good advice.’

‘Ready to go?’ came Philip’s voice behind them.

‘Ah! Philip. I was just congratulating your beautiful
countess on her marriage,’ said Lord Hadley smoothly.

‘I’m sure you were,’ said Philip levelly, but the look
he gave Lord Hadley was a searching one. ‘However, it is time for us to leave.
Madeline?’

He gave his arm to Madeline and together they went out
to the waiting carriage, leaving Letitia and Lord Hadley behind.

Letitia wore a decidedly pleased expression as her eyes
followed Philip and Madeline out of the door. She looked like a cat who had
eaten the cream.

‘I hope you know what you’re doing,’ remarked Lord
Hadley. ‘You’re playing a dangerous game, my dear.’

‘By allowing Philip to marry? I don’t think so. Little
Miss
Delaware
’s pretty enough
in an unassuming sort of way, but she’s no great beauty. And even if she was,
young girls fresh from the schoolroom are not to Philip’s taste. Besides, I had
to let him marry. Without the temporary marriage he wouldn’t be able to claim
his fortune, and I can’t wait for ever whilst his lawyers try to find another
way round his father’s will.’

‘No, that would never do,’ said Lord Hadley
sardonically. ‘Philip must have his fortune. God forbid that you should marry
him without it.’

‘What would be the point of that? Really, Robert,
sometimes you are just too stupid. If I am to become a leading member of the
ton
,
if I am to have influence and power, then I must have the fortune. Rising to
the top requires money: money for clothes and jewels, money for renovating the
London house and the Yorkshire estate - what a pity it’s so far away from
London,’ she added, vexed, before continuing, ‘however, it will have to do. Money
for hosting glittering parties, money for entertaining royalty. If I am to have
money for all these things then I must have the fortune.’

‘
You
must?’ he asked mockingly.

‘Philip must,’ she shrugged. ‘It amounts to the same
thing.’

‘And does he know just how mercenary you are, my dear?’

She raised her finely-drawn eyebrows. ‘Philip has few
illusions. He knows the fortune is important to me. Even so, a sensible woman
keeps the less attractive sides of her personality to herself.’

Lord Hadley laughed. ‘I have to admire you, Letitia. You
may be cold and calculating but you know what you want, and you know how to get
it.’

‘I do. And what I want most of all is to be the Countess
of Pemberton.’

‘You’re magnificent,’ said Lord Hadley admiringly. ‘Does
nothing frighten you?’

‘Nothing,’ she said, ‘except poverty and obscurity. Which
is why I have taken a few precautions, in case little Miss
Delaware
and Philip should get too close
to each other in the coming months. I have made sure that one of the servants
at the Manor is loyal to me. It was easy enough - a little matter of a down
payment, and the promise that he will become the new butler once I am safely
installed at the Manor. Then if Madeline and Philip get too close I will hear
about it, and I will know what to do.
I
am going to be the Countess of
Pemberton, Robert, and nothing - and no one - is going to stand in my way.’

The
sound of the dinner gong reverberated through Philip’s
London
house. With one last tweak of her gown Madeline went downstairs.
She would be pleased when her own gowns were finished. Emma’s gowns were a
little too tight for her curvaceous figure, and she would be more comfortable
in clothes that were a proper fit.

The Earl was waiting for her outside the dining-room and
they went in together, sitting in state, one at each end of the long table. To
her surprise, Madeline found that she was hungry. It had been an eventful day.

‘Did you enjoy your afternoon?’ asked the Earl, as one
of the footmen served him with a bowl of green pea soup.

‘Thank you, yes.’

Madeline had spent the afternoon at the modiste’s,
choosing a few final items for her wardrobe. The experience had been as
pleasurable as her previous visits over the last week, and she had not been
able to help making a comparison between her own and her mother’s lives. Her
mother had never been allowed to choose anything for herself, whereas Madeline
had been free to choose her entire wardrobe, selecting the styles and colours
that suited her and that she would find enjoyable to wear.

As they ate their meal, with servants serving each
course - a baked turbot with truffles, stewed venison and finally a pyramid of
sweetmeats – they talked of Madame Rouen’s ideas, and then of the topics of the
day. But when the servants had been dismissed, Madeline found her thoughts
drifting back to the wedding ceremony and the time she had spent in church.

Philip looked at her curiously and then, throwing down
his napkin, said, ‘Something is troubling you.’

‘No. You are mistaken,’ she remarked.

He leaned back in his chair, his amber eyes penetrating.
‘Don’t try to fool me, Madeline. It doesn’t work. Something is definitely troubling
you. Are you regretting it?’ he asked. ‘Going through with the marriage?’

She shook her head. ‘No.’

He nodded thoughtfully. Then suddenly he asked, ‘What
did you think of Letitia?’

The question took Madeline completely by surprise. ‘She
is . . . very beautiful. And very elegant.’

‘Yes. She is. Letitia is the most polished woman I have
ever met.’

Does he really think so? Madeline wondered with an
unaccountable sinking feeling. Before reminding herself that it was no business
of hers what he thought.

‘She seemed to know all about it,’ Madeline said
nonchalantly. ‘Our . . . arrangement.’

He nodded. ‘She does.’

‘And does she not object? To your marrying someone else?’
Madeline asked.

‘Would
you
object?’ he asked. ‘If the positions
were reversed.’

‘Most definitely,’ she said.

He looked at her searchingly, as if trying to read her
thoughts. Then he said, ‘Letitia doesn’t want to be poor any more than I do.
She has plans for the future, as I have, and those plans require my fortune.’
He pushed back his chair and stood up.

‘I see.’

‘But it seems wrong to you; our six-month marriage?’ he
asked, looking down at her with a frown.

‘It isn’t for me to judge. After all, without the
six-month marriage, I would not have been able to escape from my uncle.’

‘Yes, you would,’ he surprised her by saying, and the
intensity of his gaze unsettled her. ‘You would have become a governess, or a
companion, and although your life may have been hard you would still have
escaped from your uncle. In fact, I am beginning to wonder if I was wrong to
talk you into this,’ he said, as though speaking to himself.

‘No.’ She shook her head forcefully, pushing back her
own chair. ‘You suggested the idea, but I was the one who agreed to it.’

A faint smile appeared at the corner of his mouth, his
expression one of respect. She gave a shiver. There was something about the
sight of his face softening that made her melt inside. What it was she did not
know; unless it was the contrast between his craggy features and the full lines
of his mouth.

His eyes lingered on her and she swallowed, feeling a
sudden tension in the room.

‘Come,’ he said. He seemed to feel it too, and to make a
deliberate attempt to dispel it. ‘Let us retire to the drawing-room.’

She nodded. ‘Very well, my lord.’

‘Philip,’ he said, dropping his arm and taking her hands
instead. He turned to face her. ‘My name is Philip.’

She pulled her hands out of his own. She didn’t know how
it was, but somehow his touch made her tremble. He seemed to feel it, too, and
to her relief he did not try to reclaim her hands.

‘I can’t call you that,’ she said.

‘You’re my wife, Madeline. You can’t go on calling me
“my lord”.’

There was a hint of amusement in his voice, but she
found the idea of calling him Philip too disturbingly intimate.

But then she gave herself a mental shake. She was being
foolish. Of course she must call him Philip. He was right. She was now his
wife. ‘Very well . . . Philip.’

He put his finger under her chin and turned her face
towards him.

‘There. That wasn’t so difficult, was it?’

‘No.’ But standing there, as his strong fingers traced
the line of her cheek, was.

Why was she feeling this way? she wondered. She knew
what men were: brutal, controlling and savage.

Yes. Brutal, controlling and savage.

She took a step back. ‘If you will excuse me,’ she said,
‘I am feeling rather tired. I will bid you goodnight.’

Once
more in her room, Madeline was relieved to find that Jenny did not notice how
quiet she was. Instead, her maid was full of chatter, a chatter she was happy
to encourage, because whilst Jenny talked she did not have to examine her own
confused feelings. Brutal, controlling and savage; yes, that was what men were
really like, and if Philip did not seem to be the same it was because he needed
her in order to claim his inheritance. No man would be brutal towards someone
who was to help him inherit a fortune which was, by Philip’s own admission,
immense. It was after men had gained the promised fortune – their wife’s dowry,
in most cases - that the problems really began. But fortunately for her, once
Philip had claimed his fortune the marriage would be over, instead of just
beginning, and she would no longer be his wife. There would be no risk of brutality;
no risk of the fate that had befallen her mother becoming her own; just a house
of her own and an annuity so that she could live out the rest of her life in
freedom and independence.