To Marry a Marquis Read online

  'I vow madam, soon you will have nothing left: first we had to leave behind half our belongings when we were reduced to one carriage, now you tell me we shall only be allowed to take one trunk with us back to England. How we are to decide what to take and what should remain, heaven only knows!'

  'We must make the best of it, Meggie. Pack only what is necessary and the rest I shall leave for the doctor to give to the poor. Come, Megs, cheer up, do, I cannot bear to see that Friday face!'

  'I cannot see what there is to be so cheerful about,' grumbled her maid. 'The master wounded, the carriage lost and all of us returning home with little more than the clothes on our backs. Shameful, I calls it.'

  Rosamund laughed.

  'You are too gloomy, Meggie. Doctor Sireuil is confident my lord will make a full recovery, and when we reach England, why, we shall have the pleasure of buying a carriage full of gowns. Think how entertaining that will be.'

  Humming to herself, Rosamund went downstairs, where she found the marquis and their host in the doctor's surgery.

  'Well, Ros,' said Lord Ullenwood as she entered, 'The good doctor has strapped my arm so securely to my chest there is no chance of it moving. He says it will be safer for the journey.'

  'Vraiment, milor', you must do everything you can to keep your arm still. I have given your man instructions on what to do if he needs to change the dressing.'

  'Yes, thank you. I will travel without my frock coat and my surcoat thrown over my injured shoulder – what do you think, Ros, will I pass as a wounded hero?

  Even dressed only in his shirt, waistcoat and breeches she thought him every inch a handsome hero, but she was not about to tell him so. Instead she said,

  'Meggie is finishing the packing now, my lord.'

  'Good. John is already gone out to inspect the coach the good doctor has procured for us.'

  'My apologies, milor', that it is not as luxurious as your English chariot,' said Doctor Sireuil, 'However, it should carry you to St Brieuc, and attract little attention. With the moon and a clear sky, you will be able to travel through the night. I have given Wilson instructions on the best route to take, and I have written a letter of introduction for you to give to Jean-Paul Diot when you reach St. Brieuc.' He held the letter out to the marquis, who put up his hand.

  'Perhaps, sir, you should give it to my wife. She has taken charge of this adventure.'

  Rosamund blushed, laughed and stepped forward.

  'Very well, my lord, if you insist on playing the invalid –'

  The marquis reached out and took the letter even as her hand came up for it.

  'In that case, I shall take it.' His eyes glinted at her. 'I am tired of playing the invalid, as you will discover very soon, my dear.'

  Her blush deepened and, mumbling that she needed to speak to her maid, Rosamund hurried away.

  At last everything was ready. The baggage was strapped to the carriage, Lady Ullenwood took an affectionate leave of the doctor, promising to write as soon as they were safely in England.

  'I wish you God speed, milady,' the doctor kissed her hand. 'And to you, milor'. It might be best if you did not use your title when travelling through Brittany: in the present climate your rank might be held against you, even more than your nationality.'

  Lord Ullenwood bowed.

  'You may be right, sir. We must use my family name. We shall be plain Mr & Mrs Malvern.'

  The old man chuckled. 'Never plain, milor'. Never plain.'

  With a final word of thanks Elliot escorted Rosamund to the waiting coach. Davis climbed up on the box with John but Meggie was jammed in beside Rosamund and the marquis. Rosamund had insisted Lord Ullenwood should take a corner seat, with his injured shoulder resting against extra pillows to protect it as much as possible from the jolting of the carriage.

  'It is the best I can do for you,' said Rosamund, following him into the carriage and adjusting the pillows behind him. 'With Meggie sitting with us it will be a squeeze, sir. I am sorry we cannot make you more comfortable.'

  'It seems an ideal situation to me,' he grinned, pulling her down beside him. Squashed in the far corner, Meggie huffed and shook her head.

  'I don't know,' she muttered to herself, 'Here we are, stuck in a foreign land, leaving behind everything we possess and neither of them are a whit concerned.'

  The marquis reached for Rosamund's hand.

  'We have lost a few bags, Meggie, that is all.'

  'Humph!' said Meggie again. 'That is what my lady said.'

  Lord Ullenwood grinned at his wife.

  'When we get back we shall go to Bond Street and I will buy you a trousseau worthy of a bride.'

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  They travelled through the night with the full moon riding high above them in the clear sky, making the unfamiliar landscape even more alien by bathing everything in shades of blue and black. Rosamund tried to stay awake, but Elliot put his good arm about her and insisted she lean against him, her head resting on his shoulder. She dozed fitfully until the first streaks of dawn heralded a cold but sunny day.

  When they stopped to break their fast at a busy roadside inn, the marquis suggested that he should take a turn on the box. His valet's impassive mask slipped for a moment.

  'Good God no, my lord! If you will permit me to say so, with only one good arm you are not fit to drive, and should we run into trouble, I doubt you would manage the shotgun.

  'He is right, sir,' said Rosamund, leading him into the inn. 'Davis is far more use than you would be on the box. I think John even condescends to let him handle the ribbons on the quieter stretches of the road.'

  'A concession indeed,' replied the marquis. 'Davis will become so set up in his own importance there will be no bearing with him.'

  Rosamund answered in kind, glad to encourage this lighter mood. She knew how much the infirmity irked her husband but Doctor Sireuil has been at pains to stress that he must rest if his wounds were to heal properly. She was determined to follow his instructions.

  Another full day's travel left them all exhausted and Rosamund was thankful for the doctor's letter of introduction to the mayor of a small town on their route, which secured them accommodation for the night. Despite being shown every comfort, Rosamund saw that lord Ullenwood was looking very grey and drawn when they set off again, and she instructed John to keep a steady pace and avoid jolting the marquis any more than necessary. The coachman touched his hat.

  'Aye, ma'am, I'll do that, but these dashed foreign roads is in such a bad state 'tis well-nigh impossible to avoid all the ruts.'

  'Well I know you will do your best.'

  She watched the marquis closely as the day wore on, but although he appeared pale, he did not seem to grow any worse. She was thankful when they reached St Brieuc and found rooms at a busy roadside inn, where Lord Ullenwood was well enough to conduct negotiations. Rosamund watched anxiously, but their host was only interested in knowing they had the means to pay their way. He had seen too many fashionable families in reduced circumstances to be curious.

  'The landlord is preparing separate rooms for us, my dear,' said the marquis, escorting her into the inn and to an empty table. He appeared to think we would expect it, and I did not disillusion him.'

  A waitress dressed en paysanne brought them wine, and by the time she had withdrawn, Rosamund had thought better of uttering the protest that rose to her lips. The closeness that they had developed during their stay with Dr Sireuil had faded once they were on the road. The marquis had become morose and taciturn. She had attributed it to the exhausting journey and frustration at his continued weakness, but she was pained by his refusal to confide in her and his cool acceptance of a separate room only confirmed her belief that he wanted to put an end to their marriage.

  Since Rosamund had been the one to suggest an annulment, it seemed churlish that she should now resent his efforts to protect her, but she did resent it and snapping at Meggie only increased her discontent.

  A dull, wet morni
ng did not revive her spirits, but a message that the marquis would call to escort her downstairs did raise a smile. She allowed Meggie to dress her hair, buttoned the jacket of her tightly-fitting travelling dress and was ready for him when the knock fell upon the door. As Meggie opened it.

  'Good morning, madam.' The marquis bowed, but appeared not to notice Rosamund's gasp. 'I have done away with the sling, as you can see.'

  She could see that he was wearing his blue driving jacket, buckskins and top boots, and at first glance appeared to have no injury. As he walked into the room, however, she noticed that he did not move his left arm.

  'How did you manage to pull you coat over your bandages?' she asked him suspiciously.

  'Davis replaced them all this morning: the arm is much better and did not require so much binding. And, thankfully, I have never wanted my coats so tight that I cannot dress without the aid of my valet, thus the sleeve fitted quite well. So, my lady, may I escort you downstairs?'

  'You know I would not have countenanced your leaving off your sling, had I been informed,' she remarked as they took their seats at the table.

  The marquis merely smiled and waited until they had been served with coffee and rolls before replying.

  'I had the devil of a task to persuade Davis to help me. I knew if you had been present he would have proved even more difficult.'

  'I see.' She played with her coffee cup. 'Is that why you were so pleased to have separate chambers?'

  'In part.' He reached out and caught her hand. 'Ros, I promised you we would not discuss our marriage until we reached England, but there is something I must say. I confess I have been tempted to take you to my bed a dozen times, and if I had not been injured I may well have done so by now.'

  'But we were together some weeks before you were shot,' she pointed out, trying not to sound angry.

  He sat back. 'Ah yes. You put me under an obligation, madam.'

  'I did?' she eyed him doubtfully.

  'Yes. When I offered for you I thought it a very practical arrangement. We would be wed, you would provide me with an heir and we would go about our own lives. But soon after we agreed upon the marriage you told that since your grandfather's death I was your only friend. From that moment it became important to me to make you happy. I was determined not to force myself upon you, or to hurt you.' His lip curled. 'So it has turned out for the best: you are still a maid and I must make sure you remain so. For me to touch you even once would be fatal to your chances of an annulment and I would not put you through the ignominy of a divorce.'

  'Oh,' she said in a small voice.

  He squeezed her fingers before releasing them.

  'These are extraordinary circumstances, Ros. I would not have you do anything you might regret once we are back in Society.'

  'Oh,' she said again.

  She sipped her coffee, trying to make sense of the whirl of emotions his words had conjured within her. His kindness touched her, and if he was to be believed, then his forbearance was entirely for her sake. When they reached England she could make her choice whether or not to continue with the marriage. But it would not do: she was no nearer to knowing what he wanted.

  She looked up to find he was watching her. Her heart tightened at the sight of him, the black hair, sleek as a raven's wing, his handsome face smiling at her now with so much warmth that she wondered how she had ever thought him cold and arrogant. He deserved so much more that she could give him: he deserved to make a brilliant match, one that would please his aunts and bring honour and fortune to his family.

  'What is it, Rosamund?'

  She swallowed and shook her head. It was a struggle to speak, but she managed three words.

  'Nothing of importance.'

  'Very well, let us discuss our next move. After we have broken our fast I think we should seek out this acquaintance of Sireuil's, Monsieur Diot. Will you come with me?'

  'Of course.'

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Their enquiries led them to an apothecary's shop where they presented the doctor's letter to Monsieur Diot, the owner, and were quickly shown into the back room, where they were pressed to take a glass of wine with the family and asked many questions about Doctor Sireuil and his sister. Rosamund did her best to answer before the apothecary sent his family away and asked Lord Ullenwood to explain their situation. He listened intently, nodding occasionally. When the marquis had finished describing their flight from Paris, Monsieur Diot nodded.

  'Well Monsieur Malvern, I see why my old friend has sent you to me. I will make all the arrangements, monsieur, but it will take some days. You must go back to the inn and remain there. Tell them you are come to visit the cathedral. It was named after a Welsh saint, I believe.'

  He showed them to the door.

  'I will send word as soon as I can.'

  There followed a tense few days waiting for news. None of them could be easy, but Rosamund drew some comfort from knowing that the marquis's wounds were healing rapidly, now that they had stopped travelling. At last word came, and on a blustery spring morning they set off from St Brieuc, across the river and heading northwest towards the coast. Monsieur Diot was waiting for them at the crossroads just outside the town. He was mounted on a long-tailed hack and led the way through winding lanes to a small inlet that boasted a few boats, half a dozen houses and a small, run-down inn. A stocky, bearded man came out of the inn and a short conversation took place with Monsieur Diot. It was carried out at speed and in a dialect Rosamund could not understand, but when the apothecary brought the man to the carriage and introduced him, she was relieved that his French, although heavily accented, was understandable.

  'Henri will look after you now,' Monsieur Diot gathered up his reins. 'Adieu, m'sieur, madame. It may be necessary for you to remain at the inn for a few nights, to wait for a crossing, but you will be perfectly safe here.' He touched his hat and with a final nod he rode away, leaving them to follow Henri to the inn.

  'Oh dear, oh Lord, never say we are to sail in one of those little tubs!' cried Meggie, looking in horror at the small fishing boats moored at the edge of the water.

  'I would sail in a nutshell if it would get me to England,' declared Rosamund. They were passing a group of fishwives, cleaning the day's catch. Rosamund heard them cackling and understood enough of their speech to hear them remark that the full-bodied serving maid would make good ballast if the crossing was a rough one. Rosamund thought it best not the translate this for Meggie.

  The inn boasted only two rooms, and the marquis insisted that Meggie and Ros share one while he took the other with John and Davis. He caught sight of Meggie's scandalised face and laughed.

  'Your maid thinks me quite sunk beyond reproach to be sharing a room with my servants,' he said to Rosamund. 'What would you have me do, order them to sleep outside?'

  'Of course not. Pray, sir, do not tease Meggie,' returned Rosamund, trying not to smile. 'You accused me of showing revolutionary tendencies: it seems that you, too, share them.'

  He flicked her cheek with a careless finger.

  'I am continually amazed how alike we are.'

  The food at the inn was simple fare, but well-cooked and presented by Henri's wife, who confided to Rosamund that she had at one time been a kitchen maid at one of the grand houses.

  'How long will we have to wait for a crossing, do you think?' Lord Ullenwood asked her when they sat down to dinner for the second night. They were alone at the inn, but still the woman looked about her before answering.

  'We are in the hands of the gods, m'sieur. The ship, he must wait for the tide and the wind, but he will come, you will see.'

  The following night they were woken from their beds by the news that an English lugger was in the harbour.

  'Vite, vite,' hissed the landlady, coming into Rosamund's chamber and lighting the lamp. 'He is unloading now, and will take you back with him.'

  The thought of being in England once more acted as a spur to Rosamund and Meggie, who quickly made t
heir way down to the taproom where the others were waiting. Their trunk was corded up and carried down to water. A sliver of moon was riding high in the sky, and Rosamund was grateful they did not have to depend upon the feeble light of their guide's lantern to show them the way. As she walked with the marquis towards the lugger she was surprised to see so many figures moving in the darkness. On one side sailors and villagers were working to offload barrels and packages that were then slung across the backs of a string of pack-ponies, while on the other more barrels were being loaded onto the deck. Henri came up to them, a broad-shouldered giant following him.

  This is Branscombe, captain of the lugger,' he said, jerking his head in the direction of the giant, who stepped forward and said in a rich, West-Country drawl,

  'We's full to the rigging tonight, sir. But you and your party's welcome to come aboard, as long as 'e don't mind passing the journey on deck. There's a fair wind blowin' so I reckons we should be in Devon in about eight hours.'

  Meggie groaned quietly and Rosamund gripped her hand, willing her to be brave. She kept silent as a bargain was struck, their trunk was taken on board and very soon they were following the captain along the narrow boards that acted as a quay and were being helped aboard ship.

  'Lawks, miss, is it safe?' whispered Meggie. 'It seems so small to be going out to sea.'

  One of the sailors overheard and turned to give them a toothless grin.

  'Lordy,' he chuckled. 'Don't 'ee be worryin' about the Falcon, missy. She's a fifteen-ton lugger, and with a thousand square-foot o' canvas spread, she'll have 'ee back 'ome in no time.'

  Captain Branscombe showed them to an area of the deck where they were assured they would not be disturbed.