The Earl's Countess Of Convenience

He leaned his head on the cool of the window pane, breathing deeply to try to calm himself. His mother didn’t want his help. She didn’t want anything from him. As if he needed any more evidence of that! Her reaction was irrelevant. She had been wronged. It was up to him to make it right.

Alexander slanted a glance at Eloise, head lowered, intent on studying her clasped hands in order to grant him the semblance of privacy, and his sense of purpose strengthened. It was vital that they understood each other from the very start, if this marriage was to have any chance of succeeding.

As he resumed his seat opposite her, she seemed to brace herself. ‘If you’re having second thoughts, I’d rather you said so now.’

‘I am not,’ Alexander said firmly. ‘I was thinking the very opposite. I’m very serious about this, but I need to understand if you feel the same.’

‘I wouldn’t be here if I were not entirely serious.’

He steepled his hands, choosing his words with care. ‘When people marry in the traditional manner, it is with the expectation that affection, passion, love, if you wish, will form a bond between them, and that bond will in time be augmented by children. If we marry, we will have neither of those things. And we would be required to stay together, Eloise, albeit in name only, for the rest of our lives. We cannot afford to have regrets, which means we must enter into this agreement with a clear understanding of what we are getting into.’

‘And also what we are not getting into.’

‘You’re quite right,’ he agreed with a small smile. ‘It is very difficult to be honest with someone who was until this morning a complete stranger, but it is far better that we make the effort now, before it is too late. I have been frank with you, and, as you have doubtless realised, I am not accustomed to confiding my thoughts to anyone. You know why I wish to be married, but I’m not sure I understand your reasons sufficiently. You tell me that you have never wanted children—and now I’ve heard a little of your upbringing, I can understand why, but what is it you do want? I need to know, Eloise, that you’re not marrying purely for your sisters’ sake.’

‘And as I told my sisters, I have no desire to be a sacrificial lamb of a wife.’

‘I am very relieved to hear that. So tell me, then, what kind of a wife do you wish to be?’

‘Well, firstly, what you offer, a marriage which does not entail any—any wifely duties, is the only marriage I would consider. I’ve said enough, I hope, regarding my parents’ marriage to give you an idea of its nature. Passionate and poisonous in equal measure, an endless round of fighting and making up that shattered our peace, and put all of us girls constantly on edge. If that is love, I want nothing whatsoever to do with it.’

‘Why marry at all, if that is the case?’

She looked up at that. ‘I could remain single, though don’t forget, Alexander, I have the evidence before my eyes every day of how successful a marriage of convenience can be. It would be a lie if I told you I haven’t thought of my sisters, because I’ve spent most of my life putting them first, and the settlement you are offering is very generous, far too much for my requirements. I would share it with them, and I would leave it entirely up to Phoebe and Estelle to decide what use they put the money to. There is nothing worse, I imagine, than to be given a sum of money and then told how to spend it. I am determined not to do that.’

‘Even if Estelle spends it on establishing an orchestra and Phoebe on—oh, I don’t know, setting herself up in a restaurant.’

Eloise chuckled. ‘Neither of those is outwith the bounds of possibility.’ She resumed her study of her hands. ‘My next reason for considering your proposal is to take the burden of responsibility for the three of us from Uncle Daniel. He has—albeit through Kate—looked after us for five years, and I rather think he spent a significant amount of money paying off Papa’s debts too. We owe him a great deal—and when I say him, I mean Kate too, naturally.’

‘That is very admirable.’

‘Anyone in my position would feel the same, but honestly, Alexander, it was neither of those reasons which persuaded me to meet with you today.’ She smiled fleetingly at him. ‘My main reason is quite simple. Freedom for myself and for my sisters too. By marrying you, I’d earn my independence, and I’d be able to offer the same independence to my sisters, which is something I could never do were I to find an occupation—as a female, not only are there very few respectable careers, none of them would pay me any more than a pittance. My reward for being your wife will be the freedom to do whatever I want without having to consult anyone else or to be beholden to anyone else—provided I maintain the façade of being Lady Fearnoch, of course. You can’t imagine what that would mean to me.’

In fact, he could imagine it very easily. It was one of the most rewarding aspects of his work, to act on his own initiative, to solve the problems he was given in whatever way he saw fit. Only once had he compromised that freedom. The price had been almost unbearable. Never again. ‘So,’ he said, firmly closing his mind to the memory, ‘how will you use that freedom?’

Eloise shrugged, smiling. ‘I have absolutely no idea, and that in itself is so exciting I could—I could hug myself.’

Which gave him the most absurd desire to hug her instead. It was because she might just be the perfect solution to his problem, Alexander told himself. Daniel had done him a very great favour in making this introduction. He checked his watch, then checked the clock on the mantel in astonishment. ‘I can’t believe how long we’ve been sitting here.’

‘Too long? Must you get back to London?’

‘Not a bit of it. I noticed a passable inn in the village where I can spend the night, if necessary.’ He got to his feet. ‘The only thing I’m worried about is whether it will rain, because I’m hoping that we can continue our discussions in the fresh air. That is, if you think there is merit in continuing our discussion?’

Eloise allowed him to help her up. ‘I think we have established that we both see merit in it.’ She smiled. ‘A good deal of merit.’

* * *

The sky, which had been overcast when Alexander arrived at Elmswood Manor, had cleared, and now the sun was shining brightly and with some warmth.

‘Lovely,’ Eloise said, standing on the top step, tilting back her head and closing her eyes.

Lovely was the very word Alexander, looking at her, would have chosen too.

‘Isn’t it a beautiful day?’ She smiled at him. ‘I don’t think I’ll bother fetching a pelisse. Shall we?’

She tripped down the stairs on to the drive. Her gown fluttered in the light breeze, giving him a tantalising outline of long legs, a shapely bottom. She was not one of those willowy creatures who survived on air and water, and who were always, not surprisingly, having fainting fits. Eloise was more earthy, more real, the kind of woman who would, if she must faint, do so into a convenient chair rather than hope that some passing beau would catch her.

She was gazing up at the house, frowning, as he joined her, and he looked up automatically to see what had piqued her interest, catching a glimpse of two female faces at a window. ‘Your sisters resuming their spying mission, I presume.’

‘I’m afraid so.’

Alexander swept into an elaborate courtly bow, making Eloise giggle. One of the watching sisters had the presence of mind to drop a curtsy before dragging the other out of sight. He turned away. ‘Which direction shall we take?’

‘This way. There is a walled garden quite out of sight of the house.’

He followed her, feeling slightly dazed, as if he had unexpectedly won a prize, and he wasn’t at all sure that he deserved it. Eloise’s hair was the colour of polished bronze in the daylight. Her eyes were hazel, wide-spaced under winged brows. She had a sprinkling of freckles across her nose. It made her tawny beauty less flawless and therefore more interesting. There was a determined tilt to her chin that didn’t surprise him, now he knew her a little better, but her lips, full, sensuous, quite belied her claim to a cold nature. In fact, he knew, for he had witnessed it, that she was compassionate, and he had overwhelming evidence of her love for her sisters. It was not love which repelled her, but passion, and what little she’d told him of her parents’ marriage made her feelings entirely understandable. It should be a crime, the damage parents could do to their children.

Eloise did not trip along taking tiny steps, nor did she try to glide, but walked with a easy gait that he had to make only a small adjustment to match. Though the matter was far from settled, for the first time since he had made the decision to take a wife, Alexander didn’t feel utterly dejected. In fact, glancing at the surprising woman walking beside him, he felt—no, not elated, that was absurd, but he really couldn’t quite believe his luck.

The walled garden had been a crumbling ruin when Eloise and her sisters first arrived at Elmswood Manor, she informed him as they wandered around the perimeter. ‘It was my favourite place,’ she said, ‘I thought of it as my private domain, because back then the door was stuck fast and you could only get in by climbing over the wall.’

‘You must have been very adept at climbing. It’s at least fifteen feet.’

‘I told you, we grew up in the wilds of rural Ireland. There wasn’t much to do save climb hills and trees if you are not the sewing samplers sort, which I am not. I’ve always thought samplers such a waste of stitches which would be far better served making clothes.’

‘You are a needlewoman as well as a scaler of heights! Do you include gardening in your list of impressive attributes?’

‘Oh, no, that is Kate’s domain. This is her project, though all three of us helped her with the research—poring through the archives in the attics, to see what we could uncover regarding the history of the place. When Estelle found a map...’

He listened with half an ear as they completed their circuit of the garden. Her love for her sisters was genuine and profound, her affection for Lady Elmswood evident too. ‘Are you sure leaving here won’t be too much of a wrench?’ he asked, steering her towards a convenient bench.

‘It will be odd, but it will be good for us all in the long run. We can’t be together for ever, huddled up like hothouse flowers.’ She sat down, staring distractedly out at the gardens, biting her lip. ‘Alexander, I have no wish to embarrass either of us, but there is a topic of a delicate nature that I feel I must raise.’

He waited, for it was obvious from her expression that she was girding her loins.

‘I’ve told you that I am not—I told you that I would not consider a real marriage because that sort of—that aspect of marriage doesn’t—isn’t for me.’ Her cheeks were bright red, but she held his gaze steadfastly until he nodded. ‘But that doesn’t mean that you cannot—you might wish to find some comfort in someone else’s arms. I would not—’ She broke off, completely flustered. ‘Goodness, this is mortifying. Please, I beg you, forget what I said. Let us change the subject.’

He happily would, but unfortunately she was in the right of it. ‘It’s better we discuss it now, don’t you think, no matter how awkward it is?’

‘Awkward is rather an understatement.’

‘Then let me see if I can make it easier for you, now that you’ve been brave enough to bring it up.’ Though how to do so, Alexander puzzled. He ought to have anticipated this, but he hadn’t, principally because it was a facet of his life that had been a closed book for almost precisely two years. He couldn’t tell Eloise the truth, but he owed her a version of it.

‘There have been women in my life,’ he said. ‘though my affaires have always been extremely short-lived. I am by nature a loner, and have never wished for any more intimate arrangement.’

And, even if he had, it would have been contrary to every rule in the book. He’d known that, and yet to his eternal regret he’d allowed it to happen anyway, telling himself it didn’t matter because he didn’t care enough, succumbing to temptation because he was heartily sick of being alone in a foreign land. He’d taken comfort in her admittedly beguiling company. If only he had put an end to it sooner. Or better still, before it started. The entire episode had been a mistake. The biggest mistake he’d ever made. He’d learned the hard way that the rules he’d so cavalierly broken were there for good reason. The guilt he had carried with him ever since made his chest tighten. He would never risk a repeat. Never!

Perhaps now was not the time for subtlety, after all. ‘Love,’ Alexander said bluntly. ‘That is what I mean. I am not interested in love, I have never been in love, and have no ambition whatsoever to change that. Love is anathema to me.’

Eloise blinked at his fierce tone. ‘Well, you are preaching to the converted on that subject.’

‘As to the idea of my finding comfort in another’s arms—all I can say is that at the moment, I have absolutely no interest or intention to do so.’ Which was the truth, and not one he could imagine changing. Was it a life sentence? At this point, Alexander decided the question irrelevant. ‘Does that answer your question?’

‘Yes,’ Eloise said, though she looked unconvinced.

‘What is it?’

‘The thing is, I can’t help but wonder what your family and friends will think of your sudden and dramatic conversion to conjugal bliss, given that you so adamantly do not wish to be married. I expect that this cousin of yours, who stands to inherit all, will be counting the days now, until he lays his hands on a fortune.’

‘According to my lawyer, Raymond has been counting the days since Walter died, and for some months now has been borrowing heavily against his anticipated windfall. With only a few weeks to go until my birthday, he will think he is home and dry. He will get a very nasty surprise when he reads the notice of my nuptials.’

‘Will he have grounds to challenge your inheritance if he can prove that the marriage is one of convenience?’

‘Hardly, considering that half if not more of every marriage which has property at stake is arranged for the convenience of the families concerned. But I’ve been thinking, Eloise, about what you said.’

‘I’ve said a lot. One might argue that I’ve said too much. Which of my many utterances in particular has struck you?’

‘I should warn you, I have one of those minds which registers every word. Don’t say anything to me you’d rather I forgot.’

She laughed, mock horrified. ‘Now you tell me! Good grief, I shall have to wear one of those contraptions like a muzzle that they used to punish women who talked too much. What was it called?’

‘A scold’s bridle?’

‘That’s it.’

He burst out laughing. ‘What on earth will you say next! I am going to be hanging on your every word, not silencing you, if we are to persuade the world that we have fallen madly in love.’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘I think it would be best all round, if we had a—what do they call it?—a whirlwind romance.’

‘To have met and married in a matter of weeks is not so much a whirlwind as a tornado.’

Alexander grinned. ‘We’ll need to concoct a suitably credible story.’

‘We’ll need more than a story. Are you saying that we will have to pretend to have fallen in love?’

‘How difficult can it be, people do it all the time.’

‘You never have. I most certainly have not. Why would we do such a thing? You said that marriages of convenience...’

‘Are common, and they are, and I meant it when I said that my cousin would have no grounds to challenge our union, but I’d far rather he did not waste my time or my lawyer’s time by trying.’

‘And if he believed it a love match, you think he wouldn’t?’

‘I can’t be sure, but if everyone else believed us too—do you see?’

‘Yes, but...’

‘And then there was your remark about the world accusing you of being a gold-digger. I know it couldn’t be further from the truth, but—I’m sorry...’

‘I’m a nonentity from the sticks with no dowry,’ Eloise said wryly. ‘Of course it’s what they will think.’

‘So we must persuade them instead that we are genuinely in love.’

‘In love! I am not sure I would know where to begin. How does one stare in a besotted manner, for example?’

He studied her, smiling uncertainly at him, and found himself, wholly unexpectedly and entirely inappropriately, wanting to kiss her. Properly kiss her. Which would be a catastrophic mistake. Because he also wanted, very much wanted, Miss Eloise Brannagh to become his convenient wife.

‘I think,’ Alexander said, ‘that we can discount any besottedness.’ He took her hand, lifting it to his lips. ‘Small demonstrations of affection will suffice.’ He kissed her fingertips. ‘There will be shared glances, times when our eyes meet, when it will be obvious to everyone that we are counting the seconds until we are alone.’

‘I am not sure...’

He turned her hand over, kissing her palm, felt the sharp intake of her breath, the responding kick of excitement in his gut, and met her eyes. Her lips parted. Dear God, but he wanted to kiss her.

‘There will be other glances.’ He leaned closer, his voice low. ‘Glances that speak of pleasure recently shared, rather than pleasure hotly anticipated.’

‘I don’t know anything about such things.’

‘You don’t have to. It will be an act. You have an imagination, don’t you?’ He ran his fingers up her arm to rest on the warm skin at the nape of her neck. ‘Pretend, when you look at me, that we have been making love.’

‘But I don’t know how that would—what should I be feeling?’

‘Happy. Think of something that makes you happy.’

‘When a gown I’ve made turns out to be exactly as I’d imagined it?’

He bit back a laugh. ‘Think of something a little more—how did it feel when you climbed to the top of a tree as a girl?’

‘Exciting. Dizzying. A little bit frightening. I always wondered what it would be like to let go, as if I might fly.’

‘Imagine you are feeling that now.’

Eloise gazed at him wide-eyed. He could feel her breath on his face, see the quick rise and fall of her breasts beneath the neckline of her gown. She reached tentatively for him, resting her hand on his shoulder. ‘In the mornings, in the summer, when the sun is only just coming up, I like to walk on the grass, barefoot,’ she whispered. ‘It’s cool, and damp, but in the most delicious way that makes you want to curl your toes into the grass. Is that what you mean?’

‘It is perfect.’ So perfect that he could picture the bliss on her face, that he wished, absurdly, he was the grass under her feet.

‘Alexander, I’ve never even been kissed.’

He could have groaned aloud at the temptation. Instead, he forced himself to sit back, to lift her hand to his lips once more, to press the lightest of kisses to her wrist. And then to let her go. ‘There will be no need for real kissing. Absolutely no lovemaking. What we have discussed will be the extent of our performance. Do you think we can manage that?’

‘Do you think we can?’

‘Yes, I do.’ Alexander shifted uncomfortably on the wooden bench.

‘Would you still think so if I had been as you imagined, fiercer, older and with spectacles?’

Would he? The chivalrous answer would be no. But hadn’t they agreed to be honest? ‘Luckily, I tried to avoid imagining you at all.’

‘For fear you wouldn’t be able to abide me? It’s fine, you can admit it,’ Eloise said with a rueful smile, ‘for I confess, that I was—I was steeling myself for the worst.’

‘And would you be here now, if I had lived down to your expectations?’

‘Would the vast sum I will earn compensate for a stoop or spectacles or bad breath?’ Eloise grimaced. ‘The truth is, when I saw you I was vastly relieved, but—well, we are being brutally honest, aren’t we? Then I will tell you that you could have been an Adonis, but if I had taken you in dislike, and felt I could not overcome my reservations, then I wouldn’t be sitting here with you.’ She smiled shyly. ‘The fact that you do resemble a Greek god—a fact that I am sure cannot come as a surprise to you—well, the female population at least will not find it too difficult to believe that I fell in love with your face and not your fortune. Not that I mean to imply that all females are so shallow as to fall in love only with handsome men, but...’

‘No, but I fear that the majority of men are indeed that shallow,’ Alexander interrupted wryly. ‘My cousin will find it much harder to question the validity of our marriage when he sets eyes on you.’

‘When you meet Phoebe and Estelle, you will realise why I am known as the clever sister.’

‘Clever and beautiful. I am fortunate indeed,’ Alexander said, thinking, as she blushed charmingly, that he was in fact beyond fortunate.

‘Clever enough to recognise that you have not answered my original question.’

‘I think we are all shallow creatures as far as first impressions go. I would like to think that I’d have overcome any reservations by getting to know you. I am certain that, having come to know you a little, I’d want to know more, and I can also say, as you did, that if I’d taken you in dislike, I would have put an end to the matter. But I am relieved—I can say now, hugely relieved—to discover that while your exterior is extremely attractive, it is what lies beneath that makes me think we will suit.’ He cast a worried look up at the sky. ‘We should get back inside, it looks like it’s threatening to rain.’

Eloise stood up. ‘Do you realise we’ve been talking all this while as if the decision has already been made?’

Alexander considered this. He felt odd. Not afraid, but it was that feeling he often had, at the culmination of a mission, when everything was finally coming together but there was still the danger that it could all go wrong, the thrill of the unknown. He felt as Eloise had described, perched at the top of a tree. ‘Have I been presumptive?’ he asked.

‘Do you really think our natures are complementary?’

‘Yes,’ he replied, surprising himself with his certainty. ‘I think—I really do think that we will suit very well. And you?’

Eloise bit her lip, frowning. Her smile dawned slowly. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I think—I think if opposites attract, then we are an excellent match.’

He took her hands in his. ‘Miss Brannagh, will you do me the honour of marrying me?’

‘Lord Fearnoch, I do believe I will.’

And then she smiled up at him. And Alexander gave in to the temptation to kiss her. Delightfully, and far too briefly, on the lips.

Chapter Four

Six weeks later

The journey from Elmswood Manor to London was made by means of a carriage which Alexander had sent for her. Eloise had been too sick with nerves to notice much, conscious only that each passing mile drew her nearer to the beginning of her new life. She knew she was approaching the metropolis because the roads became crowded, the post houses noisier, the buildings first crammed closer together, then growing ever taller. The well-sprung carriage jolted over cobbled streets. Iron palings, imposing mansions passed in a blur. She could hear street criers, see people jostling for position on the pavements, but little of the colourful city landscape registered. Overwhelmed, she abandoned her futile attempt to work out where she was and where she was headed, and sank back on the seat, trying to regain some element of composure before she arrived at the church.

She had made her own wedding gown of white satin with an overdress of white sarcenet. A broad crimson silk sash was tied at the waist. Redheads should on no account ever wear red, Mama always used to insist. She had never allowed any of her daughters to do so, one of the very few instances of her involving herself with their upbringing, so naturally it was one of Eloise’s favourite colours. She had trimmed the neckline and the sleeves with the same crimson silk, and had worked a frieze of crimson flowers along the hem with her tiny, perfect stitches. There was a short velvet pelisse to match. Phoebe had trimmed her poke bonnet with complicated knots of crimson satin ribbon. Estelle had fashioned her a matching reticule. Kate had generously given her the locket on a gold chain, her only piece of jewellery.