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Henrietta sat beside her on the bed; a worry frown creased her forehead.
“Your papa does not wish you to know this, child, but I think you should be informed that your father is deeply in debt. He took out a very large loan two years ago in order to make an investment in a railway project that investors thought certain to make money; however, it failed abysmally. The repayments have left us totally without means. The earl approached your father at the beginning of the season and made him a proposition. He was in need of a wife after the period of mourning for his first wife had passed, but he wanted to observe you from afar before he made any offer for you.”
“I-I don’t know what to say. What will happen to all of you if I refuse the earl’s offer?”
“We shall manage. It will mean selling up and leaving London, but if you feel you cannot marry him then I shall support your case against your father. He loves you so much that he will not force you into matrimony with a man who does not suit. It was only last week that matters were finalised between them. The earl is a strange man, but honourable. He suggested he would settle a dowry on you in compensation if he decided not to marry you, so that you could make a suitable alliance next year.”
“I see.”
“Your father showed me the legal papers today which the earl has pre-signed. The only legal requirement left is for your marriage contract to be signed.”
“So, if I marry Lord Mounthurst, he will pay off all father’s debts, and you can all stay here?” Holly clarified.
“My dear, he has promised to do so much more than that. The earl has kindly offered to settle money on us and will pay a dowry for both Isabella and Elizabeth at their coming out.”
Holly swallowed her pride. She’d heard enough to know she had to go through with this marriage. At least the man was attractive and titled, and she had imagined what her life would be as his wife. Mountfield had agreed to save her family from penury. It was her bounden duty to agree, so agree she must. After all, she had expected to marry a man her father selected for her, and the earlwasthe gentleman her father had chosen.
“Tell Papa that I shall do as he wishes and I accept the Earl of Caulderbury.”
Henrietta leant in and hugged her.
“Thank you, darling. You know that I could not love you more if you were my own daughter. I would hate to think of you being unhappy, but I genuinely believe the Earl to be a good man and I am sure he will be a kind husband.”
“I love you too… You brought me up, and to me you are my Mama. Please do not fret, I trust your instinct.”
Lying wakeful through the long, dark night, her mind a hive of contradictory factors, Holly finally concluded that the best way for her to find happiness was to be determined to make her marriage work. Exhausted by her own churning emotions, she slept, albeit fitfully.
CHAPTER3
By George, she was a feisty piece and the complete opposite of his first wife, Beatrice, his sweet Bunty. The thing he appreciated about Lady Annabelle was that difference to his deceased wife. If only he and Bunty had been lucky enough to have had a son, he would never have been in this position of needing to marry again. As it was, this betrothal felt like a complete betrayal of his dear Bunty’s trust, despite the fact she had died nearly two years ago.
His mind snapped shut. The only way he could cope with this courting business was to deliberately not recall any memory of life with Bunty.
His mother had finally made him see where his duty lay, with the succession, continuing the line, thus honouring the family name. All of which meant Gregory needed to produce a son and heir, and to achieve this he had to marry for a second time.
His search had been short, his eye immediately drawn to the luscious curves of Holly Lushington, a blue-blooded filly of impeccable lineage. His cock approved, which was somewhat of a surprise because he’d not felt more than infrequent twinges in that department since Bunty had died. Once again, his mind slid hastily away from painful memories.
He had studied Holly from afar, keeping his distance, unwilling to raise the chit’s hope of marriage to an earl, wishing to observe her manners and decorum throughout the season, yet without her knowledge. He had attended many of the social occasions where she had been invited and remained out of sight. Surprisingly, Gregory had found himself both amused and entranced by her. Being physically different from Bunty was a huge bonus to him. He did not wish to be reminded of her every waking minute, nor did he wish to be making comparisons between the two women.
He concluded that Holly was a kindly girl, as evidenced by how often he’d witnessed her introduce a beau to a wallflower. He took note of the fact that she was mischievous, too, perhaps even a little naughty as he watched her pick up her croquet ball and move it into a better position, laughingly returning it when called out for cheating by her friend. This had taken place at a house party he had attended, seeing the by-play from the window seat of the upstairs billiards room.
Her childish display of dancing a waltz with her friend at the Holden’s Christmas Ball had clinched it for him. She had enough confidence to take up the position of his wife without reminding him daily of what he had lost. Gregory would be able to bed her, as his cock had frequently evidenced whenever he had sight of her. He also felt confident he could leave her to her own devices without the need for his constant supervision. She had been trained as a lady, and from his observations, acted like one, too.
He would fulfil her expectation to make her a formal proposal in the morning. Gregory wished to avoid any misunderstandings. This was a match, yes, but notendrewas involved; he wanted Lady Lushington. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Oh my, her name was pure serendipity. She must be made to understand that she was to be his wife, but not as a love match. He had to be careful not to mislead the girl. So long as she obeyed her vows and fulfilled her role as his wife, he would promise to endow her with whatever material things she required.
Of course, he wanted to beget an heir with her alluring body, but sex would be the sole interaction between them. He intended that she should pursue her own life, leaving him free to continue with his business interests and the running of his estate.
He arrived promptlyat eleven the following morning, having stopped en route to carefully select a bouquet, one that would give his betrothed precisely the right message. Thankfully, being the correct time of year for berry-laden holly, he knew he would be giving her a clear message. Their marriage was to be one of domestic bliss. The intertwined ivy promised duty, fidelity, wedded love, and affection. This bouquet was selected to dash any romantic expectations on her part.
He was met at the door by the butler and found himself ushered through the house into an impressive conservatory full of orange trees and large aspidistras. A small King Charles spaniel lay sprawled upon a low cane sofa which was strewn with colourful cushions. He patted the animal’s silky head. The dog opened one brown eye, thumped his plume of a tail, and promptly fell back to sleep. It was surprisingly warm inside the orangery. Pale winter sunlight flooded the room, raising the temperature. He found it a pleasant place to sit.
Drowsing beside the animal, he came to as a footman entered bearing a large tea tray which he set upon a table across from where Gregory sat. The sound of heels clipping along the hallway became louder, and Lady Annabelle appeared in the doorframe. Gregory stood. He had to admit she was lovely. The light burnished her golden curls. Her skin glowed pale apricot, the perfect foil for her lavender-blue eyes. Her un-rouged, naturally pink lips lifted at the corners. She sank into an elegant curtsy which had the effect of showing off the soft rounded globes of her bosom to perfection. He shifted uncomfortably; an inappropriate erection strained against his breeches.
Devil take it; I have not been plagued by unwanted cockstands since I left my early twenties.
“Lady Annabelle.” He inclined his head.
“My lord,” she replied.
