The Marriage Truce. Ann Cree Elizabeth

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СКАЧАТЬ how can they? It is so terribly unfair and so…so wrong!’ Sarah wrung her hands together, completely distressed. ‘What did you say to Grandfather? Surely, if they knew the truth, that it was Mr Blanton…’ The dark look he turned on her nearly made her quail.

      ‘What truth? That you went to the garden and Blanton accosted you? My dear, they will wonder what sort of young woman you are if it comes out you were compromised by not one, but two men in one evening. They will think I was coward enough to cast the blame on Blanton. Then there is my sister. I will not have her hurt by this. And she would be.’

      Sarah stared at him as she remembered Lord Henslowe’s words. And in her mind, she saw Jessica and Adam dancing, the obvious happiness in their faces. Would such a thing really affect them?

      He read her mind. ‘Yes, my dear Miss Chandler, she would be hurt. Her in-laws might tolerate her, but she would not be accepted. It is not a pleasant situation. You see, my mother was never accepted by my father’s family. She was Irish and they thought he had married beneath him.’ He was silent for a moment, a bitter twist to his mouth, before focusing back on Sarah. ‘So, we will be married.’

      ‘I am so sorry, my lord,’ Sarah whispered. She turned and walked to the window, not wanting him to see the sudden tears that pricked her eyes. Through the window she could see the gardener trimming the hedge. The ordinary, familiar sight suddenly seemed to belong to another world.

      She started when Huntington spoke.

      ‘It won’t be quite as bad as a death sentence.’

      She turned and looked at him, taken aback to find him standing behind her. ‘What won’t be?’

      ‘Marriage to me.’

      He was too close. She forced herself to speak lightly even though she wanted to cry. ‘Then only as bad as imprisonment in Newgate, my lord?’

      ‘No. I have no intention of being your gaoler. Our dealings together will be minimal. Only as necessary to quell the gossip.’ His eyes rested on her face. ‘Nor will I expect you to share my bed,’ he said indifferently.

      Colour mounted to her cheeks and she turned away. ‘I see.’ Such a thing had never even occurred to her. She could not even feel relieved, only confused.

      He still stood next to her. She forced herself to look at him. He was watching her, a slight frown on his face, almost as if he was concerned about her. ‘Are you well?’

      The thought he might actually care was so unexpected she found herself saying, ‘Yes. I…I promise I will not go into a decline, my lord.’

      ‘I hope not,’ he said softly. He stared at her, and she felt her heart begin to hammer in a most uncomfortable fashion. He suddenly backed up a few paces as if he wanted to put distance between them and went to stand near the mantelpiece. ‘There is one more thing, Miss Chandler.’ His drawl had returned.

      ‘What?’

      ‘We had best behave as if we are in love with each other.’ He folded his arms across his chest again.

      ‘As you are now?’ Sarah retorted, stung by his retreat into his usual indifferent shell. Anger had begun to fill the void she’d felt earlier.

      ‘I beg your pardon?’

      The startled look on his face was most gratifying. Sarah stared pointedly at him. ‘You are standing across the room from me and staring in that…that odious way. And besides that, my lord, I have never accepted your offer. In fact, you have never made me an offer.’

      He uncrossed his arms and straightened. ‘Exactly what do you want?’

      ‘Since you have no particular sentiments for me, I don’t expect you to declare any fond feelings, but you could at least ask me, instead of assuming I would be delighted to marry you.’

      ‘Believe me, that assumption never crossed my mind.’ His gaze swept over her face. Then, without warning, he stepped forward and came to stand in front of her. He caught her hands, faint amusement in his expression. ‘My lovely Miss Chandler, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?’

      ‘I am not your lovely Miss Chandler,’ she said crossly. Why must he always sound as if he was mocking everything? ‘No?’

      ‘Most certainly not.’ She stared into his eyes with the vague realisation they were not brown at all but a deep mossy green.

      ‘You’ve not answered my question,’ he said softly. His fingers tightened on hers.

      ‘What?’ she blinked. ‘I…I suppose so.’

      He continued to look into her face, his expression slowly changing. Her heart was beating too fast again. ‘Not exactly an unqualified yes, Miss Chandler.’ His voice held an odd huskiness.

      ‘Well, no…’

      ‘You have had more than enough time to settle this!’ Lady Beatrice’s voice cut through the air.

      Huntington dropped her hands as if he’d been burned. He backed away and retreated towards the door. ‘Yes, the matter is settled.’

      ‘Good.’ She strode into the room, followed by Lady Omberley. ‘Helen quite agrees that the marriage will take place as soon as possible. However, an announcement must be made straight away.’

      ‘At dinner tonight,’ Lady Omberley added. ‘Since most of the families are still here for Lady Jessica’s betrothal.’ She smiled, but it looked more than a little strained. ‘The dinner will be here.’

      ‘Although I would have preferred it at Ravensheed,’ Lady Beatrice said. ‘It might have been possible if you had behaved in a more decorous manner.’ Her eyes fell on Sarah, and Sarah had the uncomfortable feeling Lady Beatrice held her completely responsible for last night’s disaster.

      Which of course she was. She had managed not only to ruin her own life, but Lord Huntington’s as well.

       Chapter Four

       D ev followed Lady Beatrice into the cool hallway of Henslowe Hall. His hopes of escaping to the stables were quickly dashed when Lord Henslowe popped out of his study just as they passed the door. He fixed Dev with the same suspicious stare he’d had since last night.

      ‘So, my lord, I trust you’ve settled the matter.’

      ‘Yes.’ Dev had no intention of elaborating further. His patience at being treated like a pariah was evaporating. He started to move past Henslowe, who stepped in his way.

      ‘There will be a wedding, my lord?’ It was almost a snarl.

      Lady Beatrice, who was halfway up the staircase, suddenly turned around. She gave Henslowe one of her most quelling looks. ‘I hope you are not accusing my nephew of dishonourably compromising Miss Chandler. He is, of course, to marry her. However, may I point out, her own behaviour is hardly above reproach.’

      Henslowe swung his bushy-eyed stare to Lady Beatrice. ‘May I inquire exactly what you mean by that, madam?’

      ‘I mean…’

      ‘I СКАЧАТЬ