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‘You do not trust me, do you?’ Madelyn said, suddenly desperate. The dizziness was back, the feeling of panic, of being trapped. ‘You do not trust me to learn my lessons, to behave as I should, to fit into this world. You think I am going to be an embarrassment to you because I am different.’ She should stop, but she could not. The words seemed to be tumbling out, taking a shortcut between her feelings and her tongue without any intervention by her brain. ‘Well, if that is how you feel there is an easy remedy. We call off the wedding.’
Jack stopped and turned to face her. She braced herself for his reaction, but he only sighed and said, quite calmly, ‘You feel it is too soon, that we are rushing things? We could wait another month. Would that help?’
If he had been surprised, or confused or even angry, she might have thought again, but his patient tone made it clear he was managing her, being forbearing. Patronising her.
‘What would help would not to be betrothed to you,’ Madelyn said.
All around them there were the sounds of the Park and London going about its noisy everyday business. Children were screaming with delight as they played beside the reservoir, a cow lowed mournfully from the trees, the sound of wheels and hooves on the stones drifted over from the surrounding streets, but where they stood was only a bubble of appalled silence.
Then Jack drew in a deep breath through his nose, released it and said, ‘You have signed documents, you have allowed the preparations to be made, you have said nothing as the news of our impending marriage spread through London. And now you want to go back on your word. If I did that, you could sue me for breach of promise and have an excellent case, but perhaps you have been so far removed from the real world that you have no more idea of honourable behaviour than you have of how to dance the quadrille.’ He turned around.
‘Where...? Where are you going?’
‘Preparing to escort you back to St James’s Square so you can write to your solicitors.’
‘Are you going to sue me?’ He had expected to receive all his lands, he had swallowed his pride and begun using his title again. Why wasn’t he angry? Then she saw his eyes and took a step back.
‘There is no need to flinch from me, Madelyn. I no more strike women than I sue them. Shall we go?’
‘It is better than an unhappy marriage, surely?’ she stammered, not moving.
‘Why would it be unhappy? I have assured you that I would be faithful, that I am not violent. What has changed since you asked me to marry you? Perhaps you were misinformed about my character and you have found that I gamble or drink to excess or that I am cruel to animals, perhaps?’
‘You know I have not. What has changed is that I now realise just how little you trust me, that you will supervise me and order my life and... I might just as well be shut up in my castle again. At least there I was my own mistress,’ she finished saying desperately.
‘I would really prefer not to be having this discussion in the middle of Green Park,’ Jack said, still sounding perfectly calm, perfectly reasonable, exceedingly dangerous. ‘Would you please go and sit on that bench over there for a minute, Madelyn? There is something I must do.’
Madelyn walked to the bench, sat down, decided that she was not going to faint, or be sick or burst into tears because even she knew that was unacceptable within screaming distance of the Palace. It would be nice to stop shaking, though...
She watched Jack walk up to a tree. He stood there looking at it, then kicked it. Hard. Then swore. She couldn’t hear what he said, but that kick must have hurt.
Then he walked back, rather obviously trying not to limp. ‘I appear to have two things you want: my bloodline and the ability to father children, although you will have to take that on trust because I have no offspring to demonstrate my capacity. You have two things I want: my lands and yourself.’
‘You... You want me? I mean, you want me?’ Then she felt herself blush as she realised just what he meant by want.
‘Yes. I am presumably out of my mind because I have never come across a more provoking and difficult female, but, yes, I find that I do.’ He was frowning at her in a most unloverlike manner, but then, he was only talking about carnal matters, not pretending for a moment that he had fallen in love with her.
‘You are certainly not trying to charm me,’ she said with a pitiful attempt at a laugh.
‘No, I know perfectly well that will not work. You are not an idiot and we are not in love. You say I am patronising and controlling, but let us be clear about this. My father and brother behaved in ways that shame me and I am considered dangerously radical, a traitor to my class, for not using my title. Your father was considered by most people to be wildly eccentric and by a significant minority to be not in his right mind. If we are going to marry and raise a family, then I am not going to begin it by encouraging anyone to think that you are as strange as your father or that I am truly a radical or as ramshackle as my family. We can relax once we are married, but if we start with a scandal—or, perhaps worse, being a laughing stock—then it will be hard to make up the ground.’
‘I see,’ Madelyn said. ‘I understand. But I am not going to do anything scandalous. I find small talk very difficult, but I do not talk about history or the castle except to answer questions. I have been careful not to say anything to make people think I am trying to be an antiquarian. Most people seem kind, or at least, they tolerate me. I just want you to trust me to do my best, Jack.’
He says he wants me. Perhaps he is telling himself that to sugar-coat marrying me for the land. He might be pretending, of course, but when he kisses me he does seem to enjoy it. So do I, she admitted to herself. But I do not look like the pretty girls and the elegant ladies he must encounter every day, so why should I believe he wants me? Perhaps, when he is kissing me, he does not have to look at me and, being a man, that is enough.
‘If I leave everything to Lady Fairfield’s judgement so the two of you can make decisions about social events and what you still have to learn, will that make a difference to how you feel?’
‘I...’
‘Because I warn you, if you jilt me at the altar steps, Madelyn, there will be hell to pay—for both of us. And let us be clear about something else as well, if we are to talk of trust. I give you my word of honour that I will be faithful, that I will look after you and protect you and any children we may have. I am my father’s son, but I will not squander or risk my family’s future. In return I expect fidelity and honesty. There will be plain dealing between us or there will be nothing. Is that clear?’
She had been on the verge of apologising. But not in the face of threats. ‘Very clear,’ Madelyn said as coolly as she could manage. It came out sounding icy. ‘Yes, I will continue on that basis. You have my word that I will be faithful and I will deal honestly with you.’
All she got in return was a sharp nod of acknowledgment and a silent return to St James’s Square, but as her anger cleared, she wondered if she had just glimpsed something very important about the man she was to marry. Trust and honesty mattered a great deal to him.
* * *
Lady Fairfield was more than happy to receive a note from Lord Dersington to say that he would leave his intended’s social engagements entirely to her own judgement. She was less happy when Madelyn told her that she need not trouble herself to accompany her to the modiste to order her wedding dress and the other gowns for her trousseau. ‘Harper will be adequate company, Louisa. I really do not want to drag you out to sit in shops for hours when you have a cold coming.’
