To Marry a Marquis Page 3

  'It cannot be,' he interrupted her. 'Society would not call you his secretary, but something far less elegant.'

  'Then Society would be at fault!'

  'No doubt, but it is the world we live in.' He gave her a faint smile. 'Even Mary Wollstonecraft found it expedient to marry.'

  'Do you refer to the American she met while in Paris? I agree that the dangers she faced there made it necessary for her to take a husband.'

  'And the second time, when she married Mr Godwin?'

  She paused, wrinkling her brow while she considered the matter.

  'That was a marriage of minds, I think,' she said slowly. 'They came as equals to the partnership. Most couples are not so fortunate.'

  'Most do not seek perfection. Come madam: consider well before you refuse me.'

  She heard the note of impatience in his voice, and decided it would be unwise to pursue the argument. Instead, she said, 'Marriage is a big step, my lord and although I am very conscious of the honour you do me by your offer, it would be wrong of me to make a decision without some deliberation. Will you allow me a little time to consider?'

  'Of course, but I would not have the world think you are unprotected now your grandfather is gone. I shall make it known that you have been left to my care, and I will find a suitable companion to come and stay with you.'

  'That is not necessary, Lord Ullenwood.'

  'It is very necessary, if you are not to appear an eccentric.'

  'Then allow me to find my own companion.'

  'Do you have someone in mind?'

  She avoided his gaze. 'I will advertise.'

  'And have all the scaff and raff of London at your door? No, madam, you will allow me to have my way in this.'

  'You will leave me with nothing to do.'

  'On the contrary, you will oblige me by producing an inventory of Lord Northby's possessions. It must be done, and as soon as possible. My own lawyer will consult with Mr Sykes and between them they will advise you of what you may legitimately consider your own.'

  She moved away from the window, looking around her.

  'Very little, I suspect.'

  'You may well be right.' He came towards her. 'I must go.' He took her hand, saying gently, 'Do not let your present situation overset you. Even if you decide you cannot marry me I shall not let you starve, you know.'

  His sudden kindness pierced her carefully erected defences and tears pricked at her eyelids.

  'It would sit ill with your reputation if you did so, my lord,' she replied gruffly.

  A disturbing twinkle gleamed in his dark eyes.

  'Aye,' he murmured, squeezing her fingers. 'So it would.'

  A moment later he was gone. Rosamund ran to the window and waited until she saw him coming out of the house, pressing his curly brimmed beaver over his dark hair and barking a word of command to his coachman before jumping into the carriage. Rosamund was surprised at the sharp stab of disappointment she felt when he did not look back.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  For the second time in a week Lord Ullenwood drove away from Northby Manor in a state of mild shock. What had possessed him to offer marriage to the chit? Most likely the fact that he had only that morning received another letter from his aunt Morpeth reminding him that it was time he took a wife, and that she had just the lady in mind. Miss Beaumarsh's reluctance to consider the offer had surprised him at first, but the more he thought of it the more he approved of her caution: it showed a reflective nature. Miss Beaumarsh was not one to act on impulse, and that was an asset in a wife. Perhaps she would not marry him: he found it mattered to him very little, except that if she were to become his wife, his aunts would have no occasion to nag him further!

  'It's persecution, dear boy,' declared Sir James Ashby when Elliot told him of the latest letter. 'Damme, you should tell those plaguey women to stop pestering you.'

  They were dining together at Ullenwood House, and with the covers removed only the butler was in attendance, but even so the marquis did not reply until Johnson had left the room.

  'I can see their point,' murmured Elliot, 'If I do not produce an heir the title will die out. I acquit my aunts of self-interest in this; they are merely concerned for the family name.'

  'Well 'tis your name, not theirs, so you can tell 'em to go to the devil!'

  Sir James had broached his second bottle and was in belligerent mood.

  'That's just it,' the marquis complained mildly. 'I have told them, but they consider it their duty to continue to – ah – advise me.'

  'Damnation!' Sir James sat back in his chair and regarded his host in bewilderment. 'Damme if I understand it, Elliot. You are a ruthless devil at the card-table; there isn't a horse that you cannot master and you have killed your man in a duel on more than one occasion that I know of, and yet you cannot be rid of a pack of women!'

  The marquis gave him a wry grin.

  'I know. I am surprised you do not give me the cut direct.'

  Sir James muttered something inarticulate and helped himself to another glass of brandy. Silence settled over the room, broken only by the crackling of the fire that blazed in the marble fireplace.

  'So you went to see Northby's grand-daughter today,' said Sir James at last. 'How did you find her?'

  'Remarkably calm, given the events of Wednesday night.'

  'Hmm,' Sir James scowled into his glass. 'A rum business, to leave the gel to your care.'

  'Yes, I thought so, too.'

  'What are you going to do with her? Perhaps one of your aunts could be of some use and take her in.'

  'Perhaps. I was thinking of marriage.'

  'Marrying her off, you mean?' said Sir James, lifting his glass to his lips. 'Good idea. Do you have anyone in mind?'

  'I thought I might marry her myself.'

  The marquis smiled as Sir James spluttered and began to cough violently.

  'Dear, dear, Ashby: surely my brandy is not that bad?' he murmured.

  Sir James threw him a reproachful glance.

  'Damn you, Ullenwood, 'twas your funning that made me choke!'

  'Oh, but I am serious, my friend. Northby's chit has an excellent lineage – I have already made enquiries about that. Northby's daughter married a gentleman but there was no money, which naturally did not please her father. It seems Northby would have nothing to do with them, although he did pay for the girl's education and take the chit in when the parents died. From my dealings with her she seems a sensible little thing. And marriage to her would put an end to the barracking of my family at very little inconvenience to myself. She has been used to running Northby's establishment, so I have no doubt she could run my houses. It seems an admirable arrangement.'

  Sir James stared at him

  'And has she agreed to this?'

  'No, but I think she will. However, I would be obliged if you would not spread it around just yet.'

  'No, of course not. But – Elliot, surely you haven't developed a tendre for the girl?'

  'After two meetings? Do be sensible, James. No, I need a wife, she needs a home.'

  'I've only seen the girl once, and she didn't look your type, old friend. I mean, she's no beauty.'

  'True, but she's well enough. And in my experience, it is not a good thing to have an attractive wife; the husband is forever fighting off men who want to seduce her.'

  'Men such as yourself, perhaps,' said Sir James.

  'No, no, you wrong me,' said the marquis smoothly. 'I have never seduced a married woman. It has never been necessary.'

  'Meaning they fall all too readily at your feet! 'Fore Gad you are a lucky devil, Ullenwood!'

  The marquis raised his glass and smiled sweetly at his friend.

  'Yes,' he said softly. 'I think I am.'

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The following morning Royd came to Rosamund's room to announce that a Mrs Tomlinson had called, and was wishful to see her.

  'She brought this letter for you, Miss,' he added, holding out a small silver tray.


  Rosamund took the paper and unfolded it. The heavy black writing was unfamiliar, but she guessed immediately that it was from Lord Ullenwood. She scanned the note quickly.

  I am sorry that I cannot come in person to present my cousin to you. She is a widow, and free to bear you company, if you will agree to it. Yours, etc., Ullenwood.

  'Short and terse, as I would expect from him,' she muttered. 'Well, Royd, where is she?'

  'I left her in the library, Miss.'

  She rose. 'Then I had best see what sort of female he wants to thrust upon me.'

  Rosamund entered the library, expecting to find a little old lady awaiting her. Instead she found herself face to face with a young woman not much older than herself. She was dressed in a fur-lined pelisse of dove grey and a modish bonnet that covered most of her hair, although a few golden curls were visible. As Rosamund hesitated in the doorway, the lady came forward, her generous mouth curving into a wide smile and her green eyes positively twinkling with merriment.

  'Miss Beaumarsh, how good of you to receive me. I begged Elliot to wait until he could come with me, but you know what he is like, once he gets a maggot into his head, nothing will shift him, and it is much easier to do as he wishes than to argue. I am sure you are wishing me at the very devil.'

  'Not at all,' murmured Rosamund, bemused.

  'Well you are a good deal too kind. What has Elliot told you of me? Nothing? If that is not just like him!'

  Rosamund managed a faint smile.

  'Will you not be seated, ma'am?'

  'Thank you, and please, call me Arabella,' Mrs Tomlinson sank onto a sofa in a cloud of grey velvet. 'Now you will want to know all about me.'

  'I think first I would like to know what Lord Ullenwood has told you about me,' said Rosamund.

  'Very little, the wretch!' returned the widow, with another of her warm smiles. 'He said you had been left to his care, and since it would not be at all the thing for him to take you into his bachelor household, for the moment he must provide you with a suitable chaperone. So he asked me to come along and visit you, to see if we should suit.'

  'Did he also tell you that my grandfather died very recently? My period of mourning is only just beginning. Forgive me, but I cannot think that such a quiet existence as I lead would suit you.'

  'No of course not, if I was expected to stay with you for the full term of your mourning, but Elliot says it will be for no more than a month.'

  'Oh, and how can he be so sure about that?' said Rosamund, bridling.

  Mrs Tomlinson shook her head.

  'I do not know. Mayhap he thinks that will be long enough for you to decide what you wish to do.'

  'I am not sure that my wishes will count for very much,' sighed Rosamund. 'You see, I have no money and must earn my living as best I can.'

  'But I thought you were Elliot's ward.'

  Rosamund looked a little uncomfortable.

  'My grandfather consigned me to his care,' she said. 'There is no legal obligation, and I should not wish to be a burden upon Lord Ullenwood. Therefore I must find employment.'

  Mrs Tomlinson regarded her with awe.

  'Must you? How do you propose to do that?'

  'I am not sure,' came the pensive reply. 'I had hoped someone might employ me in a clerical capacity. You see I have looked after the household here for years compiling the accounts, reading all the letters and writing the replies.'

  'But Lord Northby was your grandfather,' Mrs Tomlinson pointed out. 'Other men may have … secrets, matters that they would rather not share with a female.'

  'Do you refer to their amorous adventures?' asked Rosamund, unmoved. 'I had thought of that, and I consider it would be much easier for me, as a female, to deal with their mistresses.'

  The widow clapped her hands to her mouth, her eyes twinkling merrily.

  'Miss Beaumarsh, I am deeply shocked!'

  'You are? Then I am sorry for it,' replied Rosamund, an answering gleam in her own eyes. 'I have been used to looking after my grandfather's mistress for years. She lived in the east wing, you see, so there was no avoiding her. In fact, we became very good friends, and I miss her dreadfully, but when my grandfather died she insisted that she must leave the manor and she has forbidden me to visit her.' She sighed. 'However, I can see that some gentlemen might find it disconcerting to discuss such things with me.'

  'A governess is considered a genteel occupation,' offered Mrs Tomlinson.

  Rosamund grimaced. 'Yes, but in most cases the position is that of a drudge. It is the same with a lady's companion. I could seek a post as a teacher, perhaps, although the minor increase in independence would be tempered by the fact that I should be looking after dozens of children at a time, rather than one or two - not a pleasant thought!' She sighed. 'My education has made me useful for little else, except to be a housekeeper, which is what I have been in all but name for the past year, when Grandpapa decided we must cut down on our expenditure and turned off most of the servants. So perhaps I should look for such a position. At least housekeepers seem to have some measure of independence.'

  'But what of marriage, have you no thought of getting a husband?'

  Decisively, Rosamund shook her head.

  'I see marriage as another form of slavery.' She flushed. 'Oh, I am sorry, ma'am. I did not mean to be insensitive.'

  'No, no I am not at all offended. Everyone knows that my marriage was arranged to bring two properties together, and all in all it worked out very well. Dear Tommy was very kind to me, and I was very fond of him. Unfortunately he died before I could give him an heir. Drowned while out sailing,' she added, a shadow of unhappiness momentarily clouding her eyes.

  'I am very sorry.'

  'Yes, so too am I, but I do not repine. He left me with a very handsome allowance, you see, and I have found that being a widow can be very amusing, only I am afraid I was too indiscreet and Elliot packed me off to live with Mama until the scandal was forgotten. Very high handed of him, of course, and unfair, too! No one raises any objection to his having a mistress, and that is far more indecent than my little flirtations. Oh, I am sorry; I should not talk so in front of you.'

  'You need not worry. As you have said, Lord Ullenwood's affairs are common knowledge.'

  'Well he does not flaunt his women before the ton, but he is so rich that everyone wants to know what he is about,' returned Arabella, frankly. 'And his latest flirt – Barbara Lythmore – the beautiful widow must be costing him a pretty penny, for everyone knows that he owns her house in Clarges Street and if the gossips are correct, he has bought her the very handsome carriage that she is seen driving about the park each day. It is pulled by the prettiest little cream ponies, and I am quite sick with envy!' Arabella frowned for a moment, considering the matter, then her brow cleared, she smiled, and said brightly, 'And then Elliot wrote to Mama and said he had need of me to keep you company, if you would have me, which makes me think of him as quite my favourite cousin again. So you see, Miss Beaumarsh, if you let me stay here with you, it will be the very thing for both of us.' She cast a beseeching look at Rosamund. 'Do say you will let me come.'

  Rosamund smiled.

  'I think I should like to have you live with me, Arabella. I should like that very much!'

  CHAPTER SIX

  By the next afternoon Mrs Tomlinson was in residence and Rosamund was surprised at how much more comfortable she felt with a female companion in the house. However, during the next few days she was too busy to think of anything save the immediate business of her grandfather's funeral. Lord Ullenwood's secretary had taken over the arrangements, but the household had to be put into mourning, accounts to be paid and there were visitors who must be seen: friends of Lord Northby who came to pay their condolences, although the manner of his death kept the majority of his acquaintances away. The funeral itself was a quiet affair, with Lord Northby's remains being interred within the private chapel, despite the uncharitable opinion of the few who were scandalised that a suicide should be g
iven a Christian burial. It was a bitterly cold day and from the window of the Red Saloon Rosamund watched as a pitifully small number of gentlemen made their way to the chapel, heads bent against the icy wind and sleet that blew relentlessly across the park. She had arranged for refreshments to be served after the interment, and had to endure several hours of embarrassed and stilted conversation. Mrs Tomlinson proved a great help, stepping into the breach when Rosamund was unable to find words to reply to some well-meaning comment. Earlier in the day there had been a painful interview with Mr Sykes, the family lawyer, who told her that Lord Northby's suicide made the reading of the will irrelevant, since all his possessions would be claimed by the Crown. It was no more than she had expected, but still it weighed heavily upon her spirits, compounded by the anxiety of what was to become of her. She had seen little of Lord Ullenwood. He attended the funeral but came to take his leave after a short time, assuring her that he would call again in a day or two.

  'You have my cousin to bear you company and the lawyers are doing all they can to delay the confiscation of the property by the courts.'

  'So you are leaving now.' It was all she could think to say as she gave him her hand.

  'There is no reason for me to stay. Indeed, to do so could even give rise to conjecture.' He squeezed her fingers and gave her the ghost of a smile. 'Try not to be anxious. I shall not let anything terrible happen to you.'

  'No, of course not,' she said, but once he had left the room she felt unaccountably bereft of support.

  Rosamund was busy in the library the next morning when Lord Ullenwood was shown in.

  'I was afraid I might find you still at breakfast,' he said, stripping off his gloves as he advanced into the room.

  'Not at all, my lord.' She indicated the papers on the desk. 'I told you I like to keep busy, and have made a start on the inventory. Most of Grandfather's books are already catalogued, but the pictures and furniture must be itemized.' She pulled off her linen apron and tossed it onto the desk. 'Will you not be seated, sir?'