Vicar's Daughter to Viscount's Lady Page 6

  ‘Cousin Dorothy, my great-aunt Lady Abbotsbury, if she feels up to it, and my friend and neighbour John Baynton, who will be my groomsman.’ He frowned. ‘Who can give you away?’

  ‘Miss Dorothy?’

  Elliott laughed, the first time she had heard him do so out loud. The sound made her smile, it was so infectious. ‘She would love that, I am sure, but it would cause even more talk if we do something so unconventional.’ His amusement vanished as he studied her face. ‘What is it?’

  ‘You sound just like Rafe when you laugh. It was the only time his voice was as deep as yours.’ Rafe had laughed a lot. All the time, except when he was suddenly intense, gazing deep into her eyes, his own so blue. She had thought they must be the bluest eyes in the world until she saw Elliott’s, darker, more vivid, like deep ocean water with cold, dangerous currents beneath the warm surface.

  ‘I am sorry. I must be a constant, painful reminder.’ His lips thinned as he helped himself to a slice of beef and added mustard lavishly from the pewter pot. She must stop this, he did not need her throwing her memories of his brother in his face at every turn.

  ‘No, not at all. I will become accustomed. It is simply a matter of self-discipline and I will learn to forget my experience with Rafe,’ she added bleakly. Soon, surely, she would be able to look at him and not see Rafe’s face like a translucent mask overlaying Elliott’s? She had to remember that this was another man altogether, one she could trust, one who would not abuse her. She had to believe that.

  ‘In the meantime I will endeavour not to laugh.’

  Was that said sarcastically or was he in earnest? She would have to learn to read him if she was to be a good wife.

  ‘Thank you, but that will not be necessary,’ Bella murmured, fighting down the panic at the thought of everything she must learn. A good wife, a good mother and a good viscountess: three new roles to learn and so many things that she could do wrong. She ate another slice of bread. She was a competent, experienced housekeeper, so the domestic side of things held no terrors. She would love the baby, so she could trust her instincts there. Elliott would tell her what she needed to do to be a proper viscountess. But how was she to learn to be a good wife to a man she did not know and did not love without blundering, hurting them both—assuming he ever cared enough to be hurt by her clumsiness?

  ‘Have you finished, Arabella?’

  ‘Thank you, yes.’ How long had she been sitting there brooding? ‘Is it time to go and see the bishop now?’

  ‘It is.’ He stood up and held out his hand to her. ‘Just curtsy, call him My lord and leave the talking to me. If he asks something difficult, simply look to me adoringly and I’ll deal with it. Can you do that?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said. It was becoming quite easy to think that Elliott was someone she could look to for help. Whether or not she could manage a look of adoration, she was less sure. She must remember that for him, this was strictly a matter of honour and duty, she must not come to rely upon him emotionally.

  ‘Thank you, my lord.’ Bella managed a creditable curtsy and took Elliott’s arm. In his other hand he held a wedding licence. Soon, she thought, soon you will be safe, Baby. Resisting the urge to back away, as though in the presence of royalty, she preceded Elliott out through the door, keeping silent because of the liveried footmen and a passing cleric with an armful of papers.

  ‘That went very well,’ Elliott observed as they walked across College Green behind the cathedral.

  ‘Yes,’ Bella agreed. To her relief the bishop had shown no surprise at Lord Hadleigh arriving with a redeyed, drab female on his arm and requesting a special licence. Elliott sounded quite pleased, not at all as though he was merely resigned to this wedding. Her heart lifted a little. ‘Elliott, do you mind so very much?’

  He caught her meaning and his lips firmed, making him look rather formidable. ‘I mind a lot less than I would having you and the child on my conscience. I told you, Arabella, this is my duty; you need have no fear that I will not perform it to the best of my ability.’

  It was not his duty she was worried about, it was his feelings, but the wretched man seemed ready to discuss anything rather than those. ‘No, I was not—’ she began.

  ‘Elliott!’ The man crossing the greensward was as tall as Elliott, but darker, slimmer and, as a ready smile creased his face, apparently more light-hearted at the moment.

  ‘Daniel.’ Elliott held out his hand and as the other man shook it enthusiastically she saw he bore a resemblance to both Elliott and Rafe.

  ‘Good to see you out and about after the funeral. Who would have thought it? In his prime, poor Rafe. I am having trouble believing it. Difficult for you.’

  ‘You could say that. Arabella, allow me to introduce you to my cousin, Mr Calne. Daniel, Miss Shelley.’

  Bella smiled and shook hands. They were friends, she could tell at once. Elliott and his cousin had exchanged looks that said more than they had put into words. Why had he not told Mr Calne at once that they were to be wed? Surely the more relatives present, the more normal the whole thing would appear, not that she wanted to face them. Perhaps he thought she would be embarrassed. She nudged Elliott’s booted foot with her toe and he looked down at her. ‘I wonder if Mr Calne might not be free tomorrow?’

  ‘Of course. Our interview with the bishop has sent my wits wandering, obviously.’ He smiled. ‘Daniel, you must congratulate me. Miss Shelley and I are to be wed.’

  There was a moment while his cousin stared at Elliott blankly. Bella had the fleeting impression that he was very surprised indeed. Then he seemed to pull himself together. ‘My dear fellow!’ Mr Calne slapped Elliott on the back and beamed at Bella. ‘My felicitations. And am I to guess from your reference to Bishop Huntingford that the ceremony is to be soon?’

  ‘Yes, tomorrow. Miss Shelley’s father does not approve the match, although she is of age, and things were becoming a trifle uncomfortable for her at home, so we have expedited matters.’

  Bella took a firmer grip on Elliott’s arm and smiled warmly, trying to look like a loving fiancée. ‘Perhaps Mr Calne could solve our problem, dearest.’

  Elliott’s eyebrows rose a trifle at the endearment. ‘Which one, my love?’ he countered, the corner of his mouth twitching.

  There are so many, Bella thought, fighting the impulse to smile back. ‘Why, someone to give me away, of course.’

  ‘Of course.’ He smiled at her; obviously she had said the right thing. ‘Daniel? Will you do that duty?’

  ‘I would be honoured!’ Mr Calne beamed at both of them and Bella found herself smiling back. Elliott was pleased, at least one of his family was pleased and she liked the enthusiastic cousin.

  ‘Come for luncheon,’ Elliott said. ‘The ceremony will take place at three. You’ll stay the night?’

  ‘That would be delightful, if the new Lady Hadleigh has no objections. I have concluded my business in Worcester and I will be returning to my home, which is some way beyond Hadleigh Old Hall,’ he explained to Bella. ‘It would be most pleasant to break my journey. Now, I will bid you farewell—I am sure you would much prefer your own company just at the moment. I will see you this evening, Elliott. Until tomorrow, Miss Shelley.’ He resumed his hat and strode off.

  ‘He seems very pleasant,’ Bella commented. Elliott was silent and her heart sank. She had erred, been too forward, and they were not even married yet. ‘I am sorry,’ she ventured. ‘I’m afraid I—’

  ‘There is no need to apologise,’ Elliott said brusquely. ‘You are about to become the Countess Hadleigh, you are not the vicar’s daughter any longer.’

  She was afraid, that was the problem—there were so many things she could get wrong—and now perhaps she had irritated Elliott and, whether he liked it or not, just now he was the only stable point in her universe. She bit her lip; it seemed at the moment that she had the strength for only one thing at a time, and a dissatisfied fiancé was one too many. Courage, she told herself.

  ‘I’m s
orry.’ Elliott stopped and looked down at her. ‘Of course you are anxious. Daniel’s a good fellow, and an optimist. I sometimes think he will be making a merry quip in the middle of the Day of Judgement. He’s a lawyer, a hard worker. He got on Rafe’s nerves—too solid, not enough fun.’

  Bella heard the edge to his voice when he mentioned Rafe, but at least he was not cross with her. She let him tuck her hand under his elbow as they began to walk again.

  ‘His father, my Uncle Clarence, who died some time ago, was my father’s only brother. His widow lived in London with my father’s two sisters until she died last year. You will meet them when we go up to town next year.’

  ‘Will you not invite them to the Hall?’ Surely that would be usual, with a new wife to introduce to the family. ‘Or should we not visit them?’ She dreaded the thought, but there would be no avoiding that duty. All families with any pretensions to gentility kept up the tradition of bride visits. She glanced round as they passed under the great medieval gate arch, momentarily distracted by the pinkish stone, so very different from Suffolk plaster and brick.

  ‘They rarely travel and I imagine you would prefer to find your feet before entertaining a houseful of demanding ladies.’ Elliott put out a hand to stop her as a man went past with a basket full of salmon on his head, still dripping from the river. ‘As for going up to London before the end of the year, I do not think the Town house is in a fit state.’

  That must be an excuse. Rafe had mentioned his London home; he could hardly have been living in squalor. Presumably Elliott did not want her exposed to his relatives until she had acquired some of the polish a viscountess required, or he was embarrassed because her pregnancy would show by then.

  It was lowering that he was ashamed of her, but, under the circumstances, hardly unexpected. And perhaps he had his mistress in London, another lowering thought. Fashionable marriages accommodated such unsavoury realities, she knew. She must learn to accept it and not embarrass Elliott with her provincial attitudes.

  ‘Very well, Elliott.’ Out of the corner of her eye she saw him give her a quizzical look, but he did not challenge this meekness. ‘Then your relatives at the Dower House are on your mother’s side?’

  ‘Yes. Great-Aunt Alice is my mother’s older sister, Lady Abbotsbury, and Dorothy her unmarried daughter. There are three other daughters, all married and living some distance away. I expect you will soon make acquaintances in the area.’

  ‘Is local society congenial?’ The thought of new friends, probing and becoming intimate, was unsettling. They would be more people to hide the truth from.

  They were back at the Royal Oak and the carriage was waiting. ‘Congenial? I hardly know. They came to the funeral, of course, and made duty condolence calls, but I cannot say I know any of them.’

  ‘But surely you know the neighbourhood very well?’ Bella settled back against the squabs, thankful for the physical comfort after the aching misery of the stage the day before.

  ‘I have not lived at the Hall since I went to university.’

  ‘But you must have visited frequently?’

  ‘No.’ It seemed he had not intended to expand on that monosyllable, but the surprise must have shown on her face. ‘My mother died just before I went up and then my father had a hunting accident while I was at Oxford. I assumed Rafe would want me to manage the estate—he had no taste for that kind of thing and had made it plain often enough that it bored him. But it appeared he felt more…territorial about it than I had foreseen.’

  ‘He rejected your offer of help?’

  ‘He accused me of wanting to take over, usurp his position in local society. For some reason he appeared to find me a threat. I was young enough to be hurt, and for that to appear as temper. We had a blazing row, I punched him on his very beautiful nose—you may have noticed the slight bump—and that was that. We hardly exchanged a civil word for eight years and I was persona non grata at the Hall.’

  ‘How awful. I cannot imagine being at odds with Lina and Meg. And you were both very young—if only you had been reconciled later.’ How strange of Rafe. Surely he would have welcomed a brother’s help with the country estate he seemed not to have cared for? Without thinking, Bella put her hand over Elliott’s. It was stiff and unresponsive and she lifted her own away, feeling she had erred.

  ‘It was doubtless good for me, as things turned out. I was forced back on my own small inherited estate. I learned to run that and how to invest wisely. Then I turned to speculation—mines, canals, housing—and found I had the knack for it. Rafe felt I dabbled perilously close to trade for one of our class and made that clear whenever our paths crossed in Town.’

  ‘Rafe seemed unused to rural life,’ Bella murmured. ‘He was out of place in the country, I thought.’ Elliott made no response, so she blundered on, ‘I expect he was much happier in Town. He was so sophisticated in our little village. He seemed to be polished, somehow, like a gemstone, all hard glitter.’ Stop talking about him. I don’t want to remember, Elliott does not want to hear this.

  She had been nervous at the thought of London society. Then Rafe had told her that she made rustication in the sticks bearable, that she would convert him to country living, to the fresh purity of the simple life, and she had believed him and been comforted. Now she saw his lies like layer after layer of deceit.

  ‘Oh, yes, Rafe was polished. You will find that I am less so. Less polished, more direct. I belong to the Corinthian set—sportsmen. I box, I drive, I race. I attend prize fights.’ That explained the lean, hard look of him. ‘Do you find the thought of those kind of activities distasteful?’ Bella shook her head. If truth be told, she found the idea rather exciting. The picture of Elliott, stripped to the waist, fists raised, made her pulse race.

  ‘And perhaps I am even more demanding than he was.’ She was unsure how to respond to that—was it a threat or a warning? ‘Here we are at Mr Lewisham’s offices.’

  Bella leaned back against the squabs and stared rather blankly at the passing countryside. Her heart still felt hollow, as though Rafe, wrenching himself from it with his harsh words, had left it wounded. But now his face was becoming mercifully blurred with Elliott’s; his voice was lost in the other man’s. She wished she could tell Elliott everything, bring herself to talk about that dreadful afternoon in the tithe barn, tell him what Rafe had said and done and how she had felt. But she must hide her deepest feelings from his brother, who had his loss to contend with. Elliott clearly knew how badly Rafe had let her down, but however much Elliott might have been estranged from Rafe, he had wanted to make peace, she was sure. How could she tell him how foul his brother had really been to her?

  And, besides, he did not need the fact that she was plain and naïve and unsophisticated reinforcing. Rafe had made that clear; Elliott had eyes, too.

  She sat up straighter and tried to take an intelligent interest in the scene outside. It appeared they grew a great deal of fruit, hereabouts. She saved that observation up to make conversation later. A lady discussed neutral subjects of interest and she very much doubted that she had as many of those as a viscountess ought to be able to muster.

  It would help if she did not keep thinking about those piles of clothes. Elliott was right, of course, she had to look the part, but even so, he could hardly have been expecting to outfit a wife who did not even bring her own trousseau with her.

  ‘What is worrying you now?’ Elliott asked, making her jump.

  ‘How do you know I was worrying?’ she asked to put off answering.

  ‘Your teeth were caught in your lower lip, and you were frowning. Is there something you want to ask me?’

  ‘I wanted to thank you for all the lovely clothes.’

  ‘I told you, it is necessary that you look the part.’ He sounded a little impatient.

  ‘I know. The gowns and bonnets and so on, I understand about that. But the other things.’ She could feel her cheeks warming. ‘The…undergarments and the nightgowns. I have never had pretty thin
gs like that before; it was kind of you to buy those for me.’

  Elliott’s mouth twitched, she could see out of the corner of her eye. Bella turned on the seat so she could look at him directly. ‘Why are you smiling? Have I said something amusing?’

  ‘No, forgive me. It is just that a man really needs no praise for buying things that contribute to his own pleasure.’

  The amusement had been replaced by a curve of his lips that reminded her acutely of Rafe, just before he kissed her, and it took a sick moment for his meaning to sink in. The carriage went through a deep cutting in the road and shadow fell into the small space, almost hiding Elliott’s face. It gave her courage to utter the question. ‘You mean you expect a…a real marriage?’ she said all of a rush as they emerged into sunlight again.

  Chapter Six

  ‘A real marriage as opposed to what, exactly?’ Both Elliott’s dark brows winged upwards.

  ‘What we will be doing. Or not doing. I mean, we are marrying in the expectation that the baby is a boy, your heir. So we would not need to…to share a bed afterwards. If it was. A boy, I mean. If it is a girl, I can see you would want an heir, so…’ But that was a long time away, she did not need to think about that now.

  ‘Arabella, are you suggesting that I do not come to your bed until after this baby is born and that if it is a boy that I never do?’ Elliott demanded.

  ‘Well, yes. I mean, you do not want to marry me because you love me, or anything like that, so…’

  Elliott twisted on the seat to face her, but she turned away abruptly and stared out of the window, presenting him with the rim of her new bonnet and what she knew was a pink-flushed cheek. How did I ever get into this conversation? I am ready to sink…

  She heard him draw breath in through his gritted teeth. ‘Arabella, we are getting married. I am prepared to do my duty by Rafe’s child and by you, but I am not prepared to become a monk in the process!’

  His voice deepened to a growl and she turned back, even more flustered by this sign of the temper she had suspected lurked beneath that calm and controlled exterior. ‘Oh! But I thought—but I do not know you!’ And, surely he did not desire her? Elliott showed no sign of finishing her sentences now. He sat and watched her flounder, his expression unyielding.