Compromised into Marriage Page 14

  Everleigh walked towards Alexandria.

  ‘I thought I might kill myself in front of both of you,’ she shouted. ‘But I didn’t really want to. I decided that I should wish you both happiness.’ She collapsed on to the ground.

  He lifted her by the arms.

  She blinked and whispered, ‘You said you would never marry, Everleigh. We’ll see about that.’

  ‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘Perhaps we should get you home.’

  ‘Vivian!’ He heard a voice from the front steps of the cathedral. Vivian’s mother came running out. She screamed, ‘Is she hurt? Is Vivian hurt?’

  She ran to the carriage. ‘Vivian?’ She wrenched open the door. ‘Are you shot?’

  ‘I’m fine, Mother.’ Vivian stepped out of the carriage, knocking Mavis’s hat into the dirt. Her mother rushed forward, almost suffocating her with a tearful hug.

  Darius parted the crowd and moved to Vivian and his wife. ‘You knew?’ He glowered at his wife. ‘My heavens. I am going to sack Mavis for real this time. She brought Vivian into this debacle. And you’d better not give Mavis references.’

  ‘Well, children do as they wish when they become adults.’ Lady Darius’s voice wavered. She wilted. ‘With all the changes in our life, I decided that you, and Vivian—your actions—are not my responsibility any more. If you’re both alive, that’s all that matters.’

  Darius caught his wife in his arms.

  Alexandria blinked up at Everleigh, her lashes fluttering. Then he saw the barest hint of a smile. ‘I must wish you all the best in your marriage, Everleigh, as my heart is broken. My father has agreed that I can go away to recover. He truly had hopes I might marry you and his disappointment is even stronger than my own.’

  ‘I wish you the best as well, Alexandria.’

  ‘Perhaps you should have answered my letters,’ she said, standing, giving a quick slap to her skirt to dust herself off. ‘You can keep the gun,’ she said, strolling away. ‘Father doesn’t need it. Ghastly thing nearly knocked me unconscious.’

  Everleigh watched Vivian stand beside the carriage. Her mother ran to her side long enough to hug her. The gathering crowd watched from the steps of the cathedral.

  Nodding to them, he walked forward, handed the driver the weapon and strode to join Vivian. He addressed her parents. ‘Would you prefer to take your carriage home, or ride with us?’

  ‘I will get my driver,’ the Baron said. Then his chin dropped and his tone tensed. ‘Everleigh.’

  One side of Everleigh’s mouth made it into a smile. The other would not co-operate. He gave up the effort. It was easier to help Vivian into the carriage.

  ‘I was wrong,’ Everleigh said as the vehicle rolled again. ‘You may be cursed.’

  Chapter Twelve

  ‘Because this rakehell—’

  Lord Darius’s voice rose with each word. He stood in the centre of the room, closest to the door. Everleigh stood with Vivian on one side and her mother on the other.

  ‘He took you to some camp of thieves on his father’s estate, if I understand correctly. As he was bringing you home a paramour of his took a shot in the air—oh, so discreetly...’

  Even Darius’s hair had an angry wildness to it.

  ‘Nothing in the sermon topped that. Nothing ever will.’

  He glared at his wife.

  ‘You knew.’ He kept his elbows close to his body, but his palms were still splayed out. ‘But at least they’re betrothed.’

  ‘No,’ Vivian said. ‘We don’t wish to marry.’

  Everleigh clasped Vivian’s hand. Her fingers trembled within his. Stealing a glance at her, he let his gaze connect with hers and reassured her with a light squeeze, drawing her closer to him.

  ‘You can take a honeymoon trip while this fades away,’ her father said. ‘There will be a new scandal to replace this before long, and, in public, you can appear to be doing exactly as you’d planned all along. We can all just be one big happy family.’

  ‘I’m not betrothed,’ Vivian insisted.

  Everleigh corrected her. ‘I proposed the second we walked into the room.’

  ‘But you didn’t want to propose. And I didn’t want Father to accept on my behalf.’

  ‘You don’t have a choice,’ her father groused. ‘A gunshot into the sky cleared the air on that question.’

  ‘I think I have an option,’ Vivian said. ‘If I have to be present for a ceremony.’

  ‘Let’s all discuss this rationally.’ Her mother captured Vivian’s stare. ‘Scotland is gorgeous. Perfect for a marriage and a honeymoon.’

  Darius spoke through clenched teeth, his cheeks red. ‘The marriage needs to be quick, quiet and not questioned.’

  ‘Well,’ her mother added, ‘my second choice would be the special licence route and Everleigh can surely get an appointment for one quickly with his connections.’

  ‘I’m not going to marry him.’ Vivian stepped a bit behind Everleigh. ‘We have discussed this and both of us don’t wish to marry.’

  Her mother peered around Everleigh, touching a hand over her heart. ‘Oh, no, dear. That has been decided. Now, we have to make plans for the wedding breakfast.’ Everleigh stepped sideways, putting a hand at Vivian’s back to keep her from disappearing behind him.

  ‘You have to marry.’ Her mother sniffled. ‘Living with your father like he is will be a nightmare.’

  ‘This is beyond anything I ever expected of my family.’ Darius sounded choked. He scowled at his wife. ‘This is what I get for drinking so long. I let my family just do as they pleased and now we’re all paying for it. Vivian is going to have to marry Everleigh and you know he couldn’t care less about her.’

  Everleigh stared at the man. It would not be in good form to break his future father-in-law’s jaw. Then, Everleigh felt movement at his side.

  ‘We do not have to get married,’ Vivian whispered, clasping his coat.

  He put his arm around her waist. ‘We must.’

  ‘I don’t care if I’m ruined,’ she said. ‘I’m almost anticipating it. It’s not bad compared to what I’ve been through.’

  ‘It isn’t fair to you,’ he muttered. ‘You deserve to be respected. A place among the ton.’

  He repeated the first words he’d said when he’d entered the room. ‘Vivian. Will you marry me?’ he asked, taking in her expression.

  She paused.

  ‘Of course she will.’ Lord Darius glared at her.

  ‘She must,’ Lady Darius added. ‘It’s well past time she married. You’re not nearly as bad as that last one.’ She shuddered.

  Everleigh inhaled.

  Then she caught what she’d said. ‘I hardly know you, but I am certain you’ll be kind to my daughter.’

  ‘Now it’s all settled. Except for the vows,’ Darius said.

  Something concerned Everleigh. He should feel sad that Vivian was ruined. He should feel sorry for his culpability in all this.

  But he didn’t. He just wondered why he’d not kissed her more in the carriage.

  * * *

  Vivian listened as her parents debated a trip to Scotland versus a special licence and a wedding breakfast.

  ‘I beg your pardon,’ she said, interrupting her parents. ‘When I woke, I believed I was forced to marry him because of a promise I’d made. I was so relieved I could hardly comprehend it when I had a chance to live again. To be well and to dance. I don’t want to be forced into marriage. Not with him. Not with anyone.’

  ‘You shouldn’t have taken off with him if you’d not wanted to marry him,’ her father said. ‘You’re ruined if you don’t, ruined if you do...because he is just like that grandfather of his. He’s a ledger book with arms and legs. His grandfather would be so proud of him.’ Vivian’s father gave him one of those I dare you to knock this smile off my face looks.

 
‘He was proud of me.’ Everleigh fought the urge to take Darius up on the challenge. ‘Unbeatable. Unstoppable. One of a kind.’

  Darius snorted. ‘She might as well reap the benefits of the title your grandfather worked so hard to get for his grandson.’

  ‘You would have her marry me when you think I am heartless?’ Anger boiled red in Everleigh.

  ‘Even a love match is no guarantee for happiness,’ Vivian’s mother whispered, glancing at her husband.

  Vivian touched her forehead. ‘I’ve not had anything to eat or drink today and I’m feeling faint.’

  ‘Tea,’ Darius shouted. ‘Bring us tea. Now.’

  From somewhere in the hallway, footsteps skittered.

  ‘Vivian,’ Everleigh spoke as if they were the only two people in the room. ‘You’re wan. You’ve paled.’

  ‘I didn’t have breakfast,’ she said. ‘This hasn’t been a smooth day.’

  ‘You must marry me,’ Everleigh insisted. ‘There’s no other option if you are to remain unscathed in society’s opinion.’

  ‘I’ve not been in society while I’ve been ill,’ she said. ‘I don’t care what they are thinking.’

  * * *

  Vivian examined Everleigh. He appeared closer to a stone pillar than a husband. And while he did kiss rather softly, one could not live on kisses.

  ‘I don’t want to get married. To anyone. I’m alive. Nothing else matters.’

  ‘Not even married to me?’ Everleigh asked.

  ‘No. You would be my first choice, if I were to marry now.’ Her lips wavered for a half-second before she spoke. ‘I suspect it’s unlikely that I will get another proposal soon. But I’m fine with that. I want to dance. Not get married.’

  Her future had opened in front of her. She wanted to enjoy it. Her parents had secluded her for her own good. Now she had a chance to be in society...or not. She might be ruined, but, well...the lower people on the societal ladder would find her interesting.

  Each of her parents treated her well. She could not ask for better now that her father had curtailed his drinking. Mavis was a dear and she might need someone to help her find employment.

  Vivian didn’t feel the need to take a risk.

  She’d just got her life back.

  She’d been to the countryside and seen a different way of living, and someone who did not follow the rules. A dreadful, hateful crone who wore boots and probably spat into the fire, but did as she pleased.

  The ne’er-do-well had probably even been to the Bartholomew Fair which was something Vivian’s parents had never allowed. ‘When you’re older’, they’d said. Well, now she was older, and she wanted a chance to do all the things she’d been told she would be able to do when she was ‘older’. That part of life had almost passed her by.

  Her parents had worried that she should not overtire herself. Something might happen. Well, it had.

  They’d finally relented about the fair and they’d been right. Vivian had got hurt when a man’s horse had moved sideways. Then it had kicked her.

  She’d been injured and now she wanted to experience what she’d missed. No, that wasn’t true. She wanted to experience more than what she’d missed.

  She wanted to dance and stay too long at soirées, and visit somewhere exotic. Like Bath. She’d never even been to Bath. Everyone had been to Bath.

  ‘I might like to go to Scotland, some day,’ she said. ‘Mavis and I might. I’ve never seen it. I’ve never been across the Channel. France might as well be on the moon.’

  ‘There are wars to consider. It’s not safe,’ Everleigh said.

  ‘I’m certainly not going to let you head off with Mavis,’ Lord Darius shouted.

  ‘You sacked her. She can do as she wishes and she has relatives in France.’ Vivian stood firm. There was a world out there. The longest distance she had ever been away from her home had been to Rothwilde’s estate.

  She was certain she could find the funds. She had enough trinkets in her room to pay for several trips.

  ‘I’m rehiring Mavis,’ her father muttered. ‘And you’re marrying, and staying home.’

  Everleigh took Vivian’s arm. ‘Perhaps we should talk. Can you show me where the dining room is?’

  She nodded. ‘Only if we do not have to discuss marriage.’

  He put her hand over his arm. ‘We do not.’

  They walked to the dining room as her parents remained in the background.

  No, she didn’t want to get married and she could not understand why her parents would wish such a thing on her. They loved her. She knew that. And they loved each other, didn’t they?

  But she had been ill and thought she might not live. Before that, she’d thought marriage would be a grand thing and then she’d fallen in love with the worm who wouldn’t write to her, and she’d fallen for the man who knew she was ill and expected funds for it, and she’d told her father it would be a snowy day in a certain place that she had heard about on Sunday before she married her suitor.

  Marriage just didn’t seem so grand any more. Particularly with a man who admitted he didn’t believe in love and was heartless. He told her it would be dangerous to travel. Well, staying home hadn’t been exactly a promise of safety.

  She didn’t want to be a mother like Everleigh’s mother had been. She didn’t want to travel and return with gifts for the children after letting them roam about on their own.

  She could never do that. Her family would be first in her life, but first and foremost, she wanted a life.

  And she’d never be able to see the exotic places she’d read about when she was ill.

  Like Scotland and France, and Rome. And Bath.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Vivian stood at the window, sipping her tea.

  The panes had fogged over. On the streets, horses passing by nickered. Vivian hoped for sunshine warm enough to stroll about with a parasol.

  Perhaps in Rome. She imagined herself as a creature of the world. Perhaps she would wear trousers and learn to duel.

  She’d once read of a female, in some high court, who got into duels because she could best the men—until the King forbade anyone to fight with her because she was bloodthirsty and killing his friends.

  ‘Have you ever been to France?’ she asked.

  ‘Once.’

  Everleigh stood at her shoulder, staring outside with her.

  They’d not talked of marriage, or of food, or even of the weather, or of anything else.

  ‘I should have stayed in today.’ Vivian took another sip of the liquid.

  ‘You really didn’t like the kisses?’ Everleigh asked.

  She bit the inside of her lip, considering her answer. ‘I liked them.’

  ‘It’s hard to believe that man you were considering marriage to didn’t kiss you.’ He touched a lock of hair that had fallen from her bun.

  ‘Mavis was always scowling at him. He was scared of her. She once made a grabbing motion with her hand, clenched her fist as if she was grasping something, then twisted and gnashed her teeth together. Scared me, too.’

  ‘I must thank her, then.’

  The wind shuddered the window pane. The temperature must be changing. A few drops of rain splattered.

  ‘Do you ever think of it? The kiss?’ she asked. Her cup rattled in the saucer.

  ‘Of course.’

  The warmth in his voice convinced her he’d not just said it to please her.

  She took another sip. ‘It’s odd, but I feel, if I were to marry you, my life would end as I know it. I want to dance. To travel. Just to live, basically, and live to the fullest.’

  ‘We’re not to discuss marriage.’ He twisted the lock of her hair, fluttered it across her cheeks and tucked it closer to the bun.

  She moved just a bit, so that she could feel the barest bit of him at her sh
oulder. ‘What do you usually do on Sunday?’ she asked.

  He shook his head. ‘Ledgers. Check my man-of-affairs’s progress from the previous week. I must keep caught up so I can have time to attend the events I need to appear at. People are important to progress. I have to keep among them. No progress is ever made alone. You have to work with others.’

  ‘Your wife would be expected to attend a lot of soirées and spend a lot of time with the architects’ wives, her back straight and accepting many invitations.’

  He shrugged. ‘I’ve never given it any thought.’

  ‘I did. When I was getting better. What it would be like to be married. To you. I’d promised it. There was little else to do but think about it as I waited to see if I would live.’

  Mavis had been married once and her husband had squandered the household money on new plans to make them rich, or make them appear to be rich. Creditors had knocked. A mistress or two. Her companion said she had considered the best night of her marriage to be the night she’d sat with his casket. She often reminisced fondly about that night—the un-wedding night, she called it.

  Vivian looked to her left, only seeing the side of Everleigh’s shoulder.

  Everleigh was a fancy, caused by the first kiss and circumstances. He was a tower of masculinity and stood firm, much like one of the battering rams people had once used to push in the doors of castles.

  Everleigh touched the window pane, standing so close she could feel the heat of his body through her clothing.

  His fingertip sketched against the moisture on the glass.

  It almost squeaked when he wrote the words Marry me?

  This was not her dream of love. His proposal hadn’t been spoken again, or penned on to a note that she could hold close for ever. It could easily be wiped away, or would fade on its own.

  It was rather like her father had suggested. She was of suitable lineage and so was he, and they would produce children of suitable lineage, and those children would marry other children of suitable lineage. The country would be happy. The ton would be happy. The households would be just as they had been for centuries before.