The Fall of a Saint. Christine Merrill

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СКАЧАТЬ was only when she looked at him that the softness in her eyes became stony and the warmth of her smile turned glacial. It worried him that in the two weeks that he’d known her, the mother of his child had made no effort to be likeable.

      A fortnight was no time at all. Soon she would see that he was not the beast she thought him. And then they might forge some truce for the sake of their child.

      But suppose she did not mean to forgive him? To be tied to a woman who hated him for an indefinite future was as final as a trip to Tyburn. Worse yet, it was a repetition of his parents’ marriage and the path he had vowed to avoid.

      Even to the last steps, in the courtyard of St George’s, Sam was questioning his plan. ‘Are you sure, Michael, that there is no other way?’

      ‘Are you suggesting again that I buy her off?’ He stared steadily back at his brother, hoping that it would silence him.

      ‘Of course not. The incident in Dover was badly handled by both of us. And now that you have found her again, you are not attempting to shirk responsibility. But she did not ask for marriage, Michael. Only that you care for the child. A settlement would have been sufficient.’

      Damn Sam for offering such a reasonable solution. He could have given her what she sought, adequate funds to keep herself and raise his natural child. They’d never need see each other again.

      Then he imagined his firstborn separated from him by a barrier of illegitimacy. His error might stand between the boy and his birthright. How naive he had been three months ago to think that a bastard would be nothing more than a demonstration of his virility with his half-brother as proof of how much trouble that might cause.

      If there was to be a child, he could not imagine it anywhere but under his own roof. ‘There is no other way that I wish to go,’ he said, knowing it for the truth. ‘I mean to marry the girl and protect the child.’

      If his own childhood had taught him nothing, then Miss Madeline Cranston, soon to be her Grace the Duchess of St Aldric, would stand as a fresh reminder to him of what happened to those who strayed too far from the path of virtue. One might end up in a church, exchanging cursory vows with a stranger. But it was also a chance to start fresh. He would find a way to make peace with his wife. He would have the son he hoped for. The boy would be raised in an environment that was as far from his own childhood as humanly possible. That thought lightened his spirit as nothing else could.

      Sam did not share his grand vision. His concerns were firmly grounded in the present. ‘Was it really necessary to make such a public display of the wedding?’ he asked. ‘Pomp and circumstance will create more problems than they solve. Too many people have come to me already, asking about the woman and how you met her. How am I to answer them?’

      ‘Ignore them. Soon there will be another scandal to attract the attention of the ton gossips and this will be quite forgotten.’ Or so he hoped. When he’d offered for Miss Cranston, he’d imagined a quick ceremony in the family chapel would suit, and had pulled strings to get the special licence in record time. But that did not please his betrothed. Only the best church would do. And new wedding clothes, along with a full trousseau.

      When he had reminded her that such things took time to arrange, she had responded, without a smile, that what was needed was money. She’d smoothed a hand over her still-flat belly and reminded him that time was of the essence. And since he had promised her whatever she wanted...

      It had taken bribes, bonuses and additional fees all around. But the wedding and the pomp surrounding it had been ready within a week.

      It was the first step towards a brighter future, he reminded himself, and fixed his face in the distant smile that would block even his only blood relation from prying further. ‘If others ask about the circumstances of our meeting, our marriage or our future, you may tell them that it is none of their business. If they do not respect that, then tell them to come to me with their questions.’

      ‘They wouldn’t dare,’ said Sam with a shake of his head.

      ‘Exactly.’ His brother was still too new to the family to understand how best to use the power of name and rank. ‘The matter is closed.’

      As long as they did not go to the duchess for the story. She might reveal the truth out of spite. She was waiting for him at the altar, watching him with a smile and a gracious nod.

      Hypocrite, he wanted to shout. The loathing looks she gave him when they were alone were nothing like this one, which would seem to a bystander to be quite innocent.

      In turn, he smiled back at her, playing the part of the eager bridegroom that society expected to see. He continued to smile as the bishop droned on about the sanctity of marriage and the need to procreate. The man had no idea what he was talking about. In Michael’s experience, there was nothing particularly sacred about the unions he had seen. If his father had been a faithful man, he would not have left Sam as an unacknowledged, bastard son. Mother might have been quite different, as well. Michael had often imagined what it would be like to have an actual brother. But considering the chill silence that separated his parents when they were forced into company with each other, the lack of a sibling was not so very surprising.

      Did his new bride have family? He had not thought to enquire. They were not here, at any rate. Nor were there friends. Perhaps she was as alone as he, the poor thing.

      His mood softened. Then she turned slightly to look up at him. From a distance, the lavender gown she wore and the flowers in her hands reminded him of a petit four: small and sweet. But as he looked closer, the image faded. Though the colour suited her, the eyes staring up into his were dark, bottomless and intimidating.

      She must have been a fine governess, he thought, for she was using her quelling stare upon him. He was far too old for that trick to work. The fierceness of her was an interesting counterpoint to her delicacy. He normally favoured fair women, but this one might have changed his mind. For all her dark looks, she had a sweet face and eyes that would melt him if she tried entreaty instead of demand. The child would not be unattractive, but possibly not tall. She was slight, fine boned and, thankfully, still slim. No one would suspect a pregnancy.

      For a while. He felt another possessive thrill at the thought. It would not do to advertise her condition just yet. With Parliament out of session, they could retire to the country, finishing out the term of gestation in privacy. He had no desire to visit Aldric House, for the place held nothing but bad memories. Perhaps the future there could be different. The thought of the months ahead and the reward at the end of it had him feeling as giddy as a child waiting for Christmas.

      ‘Your Grace.’ The bishop’s whisper hissed through the quiet of the church.

      The vows. He had not been listening. Madeline glared all the more, as though he were the stupidest child in the nursery.

      He smiled apologetically. ‘If you would repeat the question, your Eminence?’

      The bishop did as requested and Michael turned his attention to the business at hand, answering and repeating as charged with what he hoped was a confident voice.

      Madeline Rosemary Cranston’s voice was quieter, but no less steady.

      Rosemary. Another omitted detail about his new wife. He would pay attention from now on. She might not enjoy his company, but he would give her no reason to fault it. When the bishop called for it, he offered the ring of braided gold that his mother had worn, watched as it was blessed, then took it back, slipped it onto her finger and promised to endow her with all his worldly СКАЧАТЬ