First Comes Marriage

10

THEY walked back to the house in silence.

It had seemed a good idea last night. She had not believed he would refrain from offering for Meg if she simply asked it of him. He would look at her with that hard-jawed, supercilious look of his, and proceed to business. And she /knew /Meg would not say no.

Desperate measures had been necessary, and she had known just what measures they must be.

Something his mother had said had hardened her resolve. /But you have had your chance, Mrs. Dew. Your elder sister has not./ It was true. She had had her chance. She had married Hedley. It did not matter that he had lived only a year and had been very ill throughout it. She had had her chance.

Meg must not be deprived of hers, even if that chance appeared to be slim to none. /She /would marry Viscount Lyngate instead of Meg and give him the wife he needed and give her sisters an easy entrГ©e into society.

She would be the sacrificial lamb - though she had not thought of what she was doing in those terms until /he /had said it.

It did not really matter that neither of them particularly liked the other. That could be changed. If they were married, she would work on making him happy. She would work upon making herself happy too. She had done it before, after all - and in far more difficult circumstances.

And she could not deny that physically she found him very appealing indeed. Peculiar, almost painful things happened to her insides at the very thought of being married to him.

It would not be difficult…

Last night it had seemed a good idea. Today she was not nearly so sure.

She was not even marginally pretty, let alone beautiful.

She had had her boast exposed for what it was. How very humiliating it was to compare /her /kiss with /his/.

She knew he had kissed her only to prove a point, not because he had /wanted /to.

She had been left with the feeling that she had unleashed something very dangerous indeed.

Good heavens, she was still aching in places she had not known there were places.

And then there had been the great shock of discovering that he was heir to a dukedom. She had proposed marriage to a future duke!

That meant she was probably going to be a duchess one day.

She was going to be a viscountess as soon as she married and - though she had never until recently ventured more than a few miles beyond Throckbridge - she was going to be presented to the queen, and then she was going to introduce Meg and Kate to society.

And this man was going to be her husband.

If he kissed like that when standing beside a lake in broad daylight, what was he going to do to her when…

Well.

She stumbled over the merest tuft of grass, and he pressed her hand more tightly against his side and looked down at her briefly - with a very tight-lipped look as if to say he did not expect such awkwardness from his future duchess.

What were Meg and Kate and Stephen going to say?

What was his mother going to say?

And his /grandfather/?

Why had he turned the tables on her and offered for her? It was the last thing she had expected at that particular point. She had been about to crawl away in search of a deep, dark hole to hide in, preferably forever. "Mrs. Dew," he said as they stepped onto the terrace. He stopped walking and looked down at her again. "There is still time to change your mind.

I have sensed your agitation since we left the lake. Do you /wish /to marry me or do you /not/? You have my word of honor as a gentleman that regardless of your answer I will never marry either of your sisters." The chance of reprieve!

She gazed up into his eyes and thought quite irrelevantly that whoever had made them blue - God? - had been very clever indeed since one expected dark brown with his Mediterranean complexion.

Yes, she did wish it despite everything. But… "Do /you /wish to marry /me/?" she asked him.

His nostrils flared and his jaw set in a hard line. "It is not at all the thing, ma'am," he said curtly, "to answer one question with another. I will answer nonetheless. I offered for you.

Therefore I wish for a marriage with you. I am not a ditherer, Mrs. Dew.

Now I will hear /your /answer." Ah. A man accustomed to command. He would have the right to command and bully her forever after she married him. /If /she allowed him to get away with it, that was. "Of course I wish to marry you," she said. "I was the first to ask, remember?" "I doubt I will ever forget," he retorted.

And he half bowed to her and offered his arm again.

She chuckled despite herself. "Was that our first quarrel?" she asked him. "I would suggest you not even try counting," he said as she took his arm. "Before the nuptials have even been celebrated you may find you cannot count so high." She laughed outright.

And then sobered again. "Who is going to tell?" she asked as they climbed the marble steps to the house. "I will," he said decisively. He sounded grim.

She did not argue. She was massively relieved if the truth were known.

However would /she /tell?

Stephen was coming out of the study. "Ah, Lord Lyngate," he said, "you have arrived at the perfect time. Meg has just sent word that tea is ready in the drawing room. You will join us? And you are wearing /blue, /Nessie. Not gray or lavender today? It is about time, I must say." As she followed him upstairs with her betrothed, Vanessa wondered if a heart could really beat its way right out of one's chest.

Katherine was sitting by the window, looking through the fashion plates Miss Wallace had left for her yesterday. Margaret was seated behind the tea tray, wearing her best day dress. She looked very determined and self-conscious when she saw that Viscount Lyngate had come. She must be steeling herself for the offer she thought was coming, Vanessa thought. "My lord," she said, "you have arrived in time for tea. Will you be seated?" "I will," he said, "though I would like to say something first that concerns all of you." Margaret looked openly dismayed - as if she expected a public declaration right there and then. Stephen looked interested, and Katherine looked up from the fashion plate she had been studying. "Mrs. Dew," the viscount said, "has just done me the great honor of accepting my hand in marriage." Vanessa wished she had sat down as soon as she was inside the room. But it was too late now. She could only stand where she was on legs that felt distinctly wobbly.

There was a horrible silence that seemed to stretch forever, though it was probably no longer than a second or two. "I say." Stephen was the first to find his tongue. "Oh, I say, this /is /a surprise." And he took the viscount's hand in his and pumped it up and down and then caught Vanessa up in a bear hug, grinning at her as he did so.

Katherine jumped to her feet and came hurrying across the room. "Oh," she cried, "this really /is /splendid. But I did not suspect a /thing/. Ought I to have? Neither of you has given the smallest sign that you have a tendre for each other. But of course - you danced together at the assembly. And you, my lord, danced with no one else /but /Nessie." She looked for a moment as if she might rush into his arms, but if she had intended that, she thought better of it and rushed into Vanessa's instead after Stephen had released her.

Margaret remained standing behind the tea tray. Vanessa met her eyes over Katherine's shoulder and saw an expression in them that was impossible to read. "Nessie?" she said. She did not even look at Viscount Lyngate.

Vanessa crossed the room to her, her hands outstretched. "Meg," she said, "wish me happy. Wish /us /happy?" The expression - whatever it had been - was gone, to be replaced by a strained smile. "But of course I do," she said, taking Vanessa's hands and squeezing them tightly. "I wish you all the happiness in the world. And you too, my lord." He bowed to her - to the woman he had come here to offer for today.

And then, the announcement having been made and the first outburst of surprise and excitement over with, they all sat and sipped their tea and bit into their cakes as if this were any ordinary afternoon.

Except that the conversation was far from ordinary. Viscount Lyngate told them that he would have a word with his mother, who was intending to leave for London within the week in order to get his sister properly outfitted for the coming Season. She would surely be pleased to take his betrothed too and help her choose her bride clothes and prepare her for her presentation at court after the marriage. In the meanwhile, he would see that the banns were called in both her parish and his own without further delay so that all could be accomplished within the month and in plenty of time before the Season began in earnest. /… within the month…/ They all sat politely listening to him - even Vanessa. And they all showed an interest in his plans and made appropriate comments and asked pertinent questions - except Vanessa.

Within half an hour Viscount Lyngate was taking his leave of them all, bowing to each of them in turn, and then taking Vanessa's hand in his and raising it to his lips. "If I may," he said, "I will come and fetch you tomorrow afternoon and take you to Finchley Park to call on my mother. She will wish it." "I should enjoy that," she said, stretching the truth so thin that really there was nothing of it left.

And he was gone, taking Stephen to ride a way with him.

Katherine left the room too after another few minutes of excited chatter and several impulsive hugs. She was going to write to her friends in Throckbridge and tell them the news.

Which reminded Vanessa that /she /must write without delay to the Dews.

She hoped the news would not upset them too much.

But she would think of that later. She was suddenly alone with Margaret, who was still seated on the same chair though the tea tray had been removed. Vanessa was a few feet away.

Margaret broke the silence. "Nessie," she said, "what have you done?" Vanessa smiled cheerfully. "I have affianced myself to a handsome, rich, influential man," she said. "He asked and I said yes." "Are you sure that is the way it was?" Margaret asked, her gaze uncomfortably direct. "Or did /you /ask /him/?" "That would be very improper," Vanessa said. "But not something you have not done before," Margaret reminded her. "I was happy with Hedley," Vanessa protested. "Yes, I know." Her sister frowned. "But will you be happy with Lord Lyngate? I have been under the impression that you do not even like him very well." "I will be happy," Vanessa said, smoothing one hand over the blue fabric of her dress. "You did it for me, did you not?" Margaret asked. "I did it because I /wanted /to," Vanessa said, looking at her again. "Do you mind awfully, Meg? Did you really want him for yourself? Now that it is too late, I fear that perhaps you do. Or did." "You /did /do it for me," Margaret said, clasping her hands so tightly in her lap that Vanessa could see her knuckles turn white. "You did it for /us/. Oh, Nessie, must you make yourself a martyr for our sakes?" "/You /always do," Vanessa told her. "That is different," Margaret said. "It is my lot in life to protect you all, to make sure you all have a chance for the best life possible. I so want you all to be happy. You married Hedley for his sake, and now you will marry Lord Lyngate for ours. You /must /not, Nessie. I will not allow it. I will write him a letter and have it taken over to Finchley without delay. I will - " "You will do no such thing," Vanessa said. "I am twenty-four years old, Meg. I am a widow. You cannot live my life for me. Neither can you live Kate's or Stephen's. It is /not /your lot in life to give up your own dreams and chances of happiness for us. We are all almost grown up. Kate will have all sorts of chances with my sponsorship. And Stephen will be helped to maturity by Viscount Lyngate and Mr. Samson and the tutors who are being hired for him before he goes up to Oxford. It is time you looked ahead to your life on your own account." Margaret looked stricken. If /only /Crispin had gone off to join his regiment without saying anything to Meg except good-bye, Vanessa thought. She would be over her feelings for him by now. "Oh, Meg," she said, "it is not that we do not need you any longer. Of course we do. We always will. We need you as our eldest sister. We need your love. But we do not need your /life/. You want us to be happy.

Well, we want the same for you." "I dreamed of you finding love again," Margaret said, tears welling in her eyes. "But a love that could last a lifetime this time. You deserve a happily-ever-after more than anyone else I know." "And I am not to have it?" Vanessa asked. "Meg, he is heir to a /duke's /title. He told me that earlier. I had /no /idea. Could anything be more dazzling? How could I /not /be happy for the rest of my life? I am going to be a /duchess /one day." "A /duke/?" Margaret said. "Oh, Nessie, I had no idea either. However will you cope? But of course you will. You are grown up, as you have just pointed out to me. Of course you will cope - and very well too. I wonder if Viscount Lyngate knows yet how fortunate he is to have you." "I suspect not," Vanessa said, her eyes twinkling. "But he will. I intend to be happy with him, Meg. /Blissfully /happy." Her sister set her head to one side and regarded her steadily. "Oh, Nessie," she said.

And then they were both on their feet and in each other's arms, and for some inexplicable reason they were both weeping.

She had just become betrothed, Vanessa thought. Hers were tears of happiness.

Of course they were.

She was going to be married again.

To Viscount Lyngate.

Who could never in a million years love her.

Not that she loved him either, of course, But even so… "What did she say?" Vanessa asked.

She was seated inside Viscount Lyngate's traveling carriage again, but this time she had him for a companion rather than her sisters. They were on their way to Finchley Park, almost twenty-four hours after their engagement. A heavy drizzle misted the windows. She was being taken to call upon his mother. "She is eager to meet you," he told her. "But I asked what she /said/." She turned her head to look at him. "She expected you to offer for Meg, did she not? And then you went home and told her you had offered for me instead. What did she say?" "She was a little surprised," he admitted, "but she was happy after I had informed her that you were the lady I wished to marry." "Did you really say that?" she asked him. "And did she believe you? I would wager she did not. And I would wager she was not happy at all." "Ladies," he said, "do not wager." "Oh, fiddle," she said. "She is unhappy, is she not? I would rather know now before I meet her again." He clucked his tongue. "Very well, then," he said. "She is unhappy - or uneasy, at least. You are not the eldest sister, and you have been married before." "And I am no beauty," she said. "What am I to say to that?" he asked, clearly exasperated. "You are not ugly. You are not an antidote." Loverlike words indeed! "I will make her like me," she said. "I promise I will. She will like me when she sees that I can make you comfortable." "Ah," he said. "It is only /comfortable /today, is it? Yesterday you knew how to /please /me and how to make me /happy/." He was looking at her sidelong. His eyelids were drooped over his eyes again in that disconcertingly slumberous expression she remembered from the assembly. "And comfortable too," she said firmly. "Well, then," he said, "I am to be a fortunate man." "You are," she agreed - and laughed. "And I would like to have been a spider crawling across the carpet in your drawing room after I left yesterday," he said. "Especially after you and your elder sister were alone together, as I suppose you were eventually." "She was not upset, if that is what you mean," she said. "At least, not upset that you had offered for me rather than her." "I am crushed," he said. "She wishes us well," she told him. "Now /that,/" he said, "I can believe. She is inordinately fond of you.

She was not happy, though, was she, to learn that you had offered yourself as the sacrificial lamb for the family." "I have no intention of being any such thing," she told him. "I am going to be your wife - your viscountess. I am going to learn to do the job well - you will see." "I am going to be thirty before the year is out," he said. "My primary motive in deciding to marry this year has been to set up my nursery without further delay. There is the need for an heir." He was looking directly at her from beneath those drooped lids - deliberately trying to discompose her, of course. "Oh," she said, and knew she was blushing. Her toes curled up inside her half-boots. "But of course. That is perfectly understandable. Especially as you expect to be a duke one day." "Was there any question," he asked, "of children with Dew?" She shook her head and bit her lip. "You told me," he said, "that you are not a virgin and I believed you.

But are you perhaps an /almost /virgin?" She turned her head away sharply. She could not trust her voice. She watched two streams of water snake their way down the side window of the carriage.

It had happened three times in all - /it /being nuptial relations. And after two of them Hedley had wept. "My apologies," Viscount Lyngate said, setting his gloved hand on her sleeve. "I did not intend to upset you." "It is quite understandable," she said, "that you would want to know if I am capable of bearing children. As far as I know, I am. I /hope /I am." "We are almost at Finchley," he said. "You will see it around the next bend." He leaned across her to wipe the steam off the window with the sleeve of his greatcoat.

It was another gray stone mansion, but this one was older than Warren Hall. It was solidly square with balustrades and statues around the roof and ivy on parts of the walls. It was surrounded by lawns dotted with ancient trees, still bare of leaves. Sheep grazed some distance from the house, probably below a ha-ha. There was another house - it was too large to be called a cottage - some distance away, on the banks of a lake.

There was none of the new splendor of Warren Hall here, but to Vanessa it looked stately and peaceful and welcoming - though that last word reminded her of what she was facing inside its walls within the next few minutes. She sat back in her seat. "It looks better in the sunshine," he said. "It looks lovely now," she told him.

She drew a deep breath when the carriage drew to a halt outside the double front doors of the house and let it out on a sigh that was unfortunately audible. "I suppose," she said after he had descended the steps and turned to offer her a hand, "I ought to have looked beyond the mere request that you marry me to what came next." "Yes," he agreed as she stepped down, "perhaps you ought. But you did not, did you?" "And what-ifs are pointless," she said. "You said so yourself the day we arrived at Warren Hall." "Precisely," he said. "You are stuck with me, Mrs. Dew. And I - " He stopped abruptly. "And you are stuck with me." She often found amusement in the strangest things. She laughed.

It was better for both her spirits and her pride than weeping.

He raised his eyebrows and offered his arm.