Penniless until the earl.., p.12
Penniless Until the Earl's Proposal, page 12
‘I am delighted to welcome you into the family, Juliet, and look forward to getting to know you better.’
‘Thank you,’ Juliet replied a little shyly, seeing she need not have worried about meeting the dowager countess once again, and finding her kindness comforting. She was so gently solicitous that she found herself warming towards her. ‘You are very kind.’
‘And you are extremely lovely, my dear.’ The dowager countess’s eyes twinkled. ‘Now I begin to understand how impossible it was for Marcus to resist you.’
Juliet flushed, embarrassed by her words, and a frown of disapproval appeared on Marcus’s face at his mother’s outspokenness, but she laughed lightly, well used to her son’s disapproving looks and knowing how to temper them. It was clear to Juliet that she was not in the least sorry that her words might have caused either of them to feel a sense of awkwardness.
‘Marcus has made me aware of the circumstances of why you are to marry, of your brother’s unfortunate situation and Marcus’s willingness to forgo the debt your brother owed him in exchange for some land and to help set him on his feet, Juliet,’ she said on a more serious, gentle note, ‘which is unfortunate, and I have to say that where marriage is concerned, I cannot countenance such behaviour. I know how forceful Marcus can be, and I do hope he has not made you feel that you are under any obligation to marry him.’
Juliet flushed as she strove to answer the question. ‘Why, I—I—no, of course I’m not. He has been most generous.’
‘I’m relieved to hear it. Time presses, however, and it is not for me to sit in judgement or to interfere in something which is entirely between your two selves. That is your affair. But I do hope you feel deeply enough about each other to marry in these circumstances.’
Juliet’s gaze met Marcus’s, but she could read nothing in it. The dowager countess’s remark spoken in a quiet, imperious tone would have been enough to daunt even the strongest heart, and Marcus was no exception. Although not the type of man to be easily intimidated by a woman, and had it been said by anyone else, he would have launched a bitter attack. But this was his mother, whom he loved and respected, and he took her gentle reproach lightly, prepared to be tolerant, and Juliet suspected that his mother would not overstep the mark by antagonising her son.
‘Is the sermon over, Mother?’ Marcus asked tersely.
A smile lit up her face and she laughed easily. ‘Absolutely. I promise. It only leaves me to wish you both every happiness. Marcus tells me he is to take you to Mulberry Hall immediately after the wedding, Juliet. Is that not so, Marcus?’ she said, looking once more at her son, her seriousness of a moment before having disappeared.
‘That is my intention. It is to be a modest affair, but when news of the marriage gets out, it is bound to create a stir. It is my wish to avoid the inevitable curiosity and questions. Besides, I am anxious for Juliet and Adele to become better acquainted—the sooner the better.’
‘I agree. You will like living at Mulberry Hall, Juliet. It’s a lovely old house, although as you are already acquainted with the place, you don’t need me to sing its praises, but the estate has been in my mother’s family for generations. When my brother died without issue and with Marcus’s elder brother William already ensconced at Cranswick Hall, and with more titles than is good for any man, it seemed only right that Mulberry Hall should pass to Marcus. Adele is adorable, but unfortunately, I cannot spend as much time with her as I would like to. She is a quiet, shy little girl, but she is young and will soon warm to you. Being many years younger than myself, you might understand her better than I do.’
With a maid in attendance, Adele entered the room quietly. At first, she only had eyes for her adored father, who swept her into his arms and gave her a fierce hug, inhaling the sweet innocence of her before setting her on her feet once more. Marcus’s pride as he looked at his daughter could not have been more evident. It was plain for Juliet to see that he loved his daughter and felt a profound need to protect her. Taking Adele’s hand, he drew her forward.
‘There is someone I want you to meet,’ he said gently to the little girl. ‘This is Juliet. You remember meeting her in the park? She is to be my wife—your stepmother.’
Adele’s face broke into a wide smile when she saw Juliet. Marcus had told her that Adele couldn’t remember her own mother and would be unsure what a stepmother was, but at that moment, when Juliet smiled and moved towards her, it didn’t matter. As Juliet became reacquainted with Marcus’s daughter, looking beyond her to where his mother sat, watching the proceedings closely, Juliet saw her eyes were bright with tears—of gratitude or thankfulness that the child would be well cared for. Juliet thought she saw a lightening of her spirits, as though a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders.
* * *
Unable to believe their good fortune, throughout the days leading up to his sister’s wedding to Lord Cardell, Richard walked with a new spring in his step. His relief in knowing his estate would not have to be sold after all was enormous, and he lost no time in making it quite clear to Juliet that he thought she had done well for herself. Better, he told her, than if she had married Thomas Waring. His feelings regarding her one-time betrothed had been far from favourable.
However, she would be devastated if she knew what Richard had discovered from an acquaintance he had met at his club, that Thomas had not perished in Spain after all but was still alive. Apparently, he had been wounded and taken prisoner by the French and rescued by the partisans, where he had lingered in the arms of a dark-haired beauty who had made his time spent in their camp pleasurable—so much so that he had been reluctant to be parted from her.
May God and Juliet forgive him, but he could not tell her, not until after she was safely married to Marcus Cardell. He would pray that Thomas, who, according to his acquaintance, had gone directly to his home, Amberley Park, in Surrey to see his parents, was in no hurry to come to London. But Richard’s instinct told him that what he was doing was right. It was far more advantageous to him that Juliet married Marcus Cardell, and she would be far happier with Marcus than she ever would be with Thomas.
If Thomas had been anything like decent, he would not be deceiving her in this way, and besides, he thought as renewed anger possessed him when he remembered how he had not even bothered to write to inform Juliet that he was still alive, it would serve him right when he finally condescended to come to town and found Juliet had married someone else, someone richer even that his own arrogant, conceited self.
* * *
The wedding was to take place the following day. Having written to Lydia to inform her of her forthcoming marriage, she arrived to help Juliet prepare for her big day. She swept into the house, her bunches of ringlets bouncing wildly as she moved, her bright eyes shining. Juliet hugged her warmly.
‘Thank you for coming, Lydia. I can’t tell you how glad I am to see you.’
‘And I can’t tell you how astounded I was to learn you are to marry the exquisite Lord Cardell. I couldn’t believe it,’ but then she held Juliet at arm’s length. ‘It is true, isn’t it? You’re not jesting?’
Juliet laughed, taking Lydia’s hand and leading her into the drawing room. ‘Would I jest about so serious a matter?’
‘I guess not.’ Lydia sighed, a kind of wonder in her eyes as she looked at Juliet, hardly able to believe that what she had told her was true. ‘But I recall you saying that after Thomas died in Spain, you’d never marry.’
‘I know. I said a lot of things when he was killed, and I meant every word I said—then. But now I have the future to think about. However distasteful the prospect, I thought that if I must marry, if it is not for love, then it must be to someone I could respect. But the most important thing is that he must be rich. Marcus Cardell is all that. Tell me you understand, Lydia.’
‘Of course. I can understand that. But to think that you were on the point of penury and now, well, look at you. Your position is most enviable.’
‘Oh, Lydia, no one is more shocked than I am at the speed with which everything has happened.’
‘Where is he?’
‘Who?’
‘Why, the exquisite Marcus Cardell, of course.’
‘I don’t have the faintest idea. I won’t see him again until I arrive at the church. But I am so lucky, Lydia. Just think, I will be living close to Richard and Endcliffe House. I’m going to miss living there, but I know it will be well taken care of with Richard and his future wife—if her father agrees to his suit once he has found his feet. Hopefully my dear brother will become a reformed character and he will have no objections. I have a lot to thank Marcus for. What he has offered me is a lifeline. I have to take it. He’s been so kind, so considerate, and I believe he is genuinely fond of me. Why else would he have asked me to marry him?’
‘Why else indeed? You know, you’ve changed, Juliet,’ Lydia said on a more serious note.
‘Changed? I dare say I have changed a little. You see, I’ve made up my mind to put the past behind me and look to the future. My marriage will not be clouded with romantic thoughts—at least not for the present. I’ve been a captive of my emotions once and I vowed never again, and yet,’ she said, a soft flush mantling her cheeks when she thought of Marcus and the times when he had kissed her. ‘To feel like that—well, I must confess that it was quite wonderful, and I wouldn’t mind in the slightest if I could experience it again. But for the present all my aspirations must be realistic. It is important that I marry someone I can trust, someone I can lean on, and if Marcus can do that for me, then I shall try very hard to love him, although I have to admit that marriage to him scares me a bit.’
‘You’ll soon get used to it.’
‘I do realise how lucky I am, but everything has a price, even happiness, and if I have to leave Endcliffe House in order to preserve it, then I am ready to pay that price.’
* * *
The day of the wedding dawned sunny and warm. The ceremony was scheduled for midday, and beyond the occasional moment of panic, Juliet felt a strange detachment as Lydia and Daphne fussed with her appearance.
Dressed in a simple gown of champagne-coloured silk gauze and a small flowered headdress, Juliet married Marcus Cardell. Because she had wanted as little fuss as possible, the wedding party was small. The only people present in the church were close family and just a handful of close friends. Richard walked her proudly down the aisle to meet the man who would be her husband. Marcus’s brother, William, the Earl of Cranswick, who had come up from West Sussex to see his younger brother married, acted as Marcus’s groomsman. His wife, Alice, had not accompanied him since she was close to giving birth to their third child. A serious-minded man, not as tall as Marcus, William had a pleasant disposition. Welcoming her into the family, he had shown her courtesy and friendliness, putting her at her ease at once.
Looking terribly handsome and resplendent in a claret coat and grey trousers, Juliet was aware of nothing but Marcus’s close proximity and his firm hands when they’d slipped the gold wedding band gently but firmly on her finger, and for the first time since entering the church she’d met his eyes, darkly serious and intent. She had to quell the ache that rose inside her when she remembered her dreams of how her wedding day would be if Thomas had not disappeared so quickly and tragically from her life.
There was nothing romantic as she had always imagined, nothing but a seal on a promise that must be kept. When Marcus placed his hand over hers, she felt herself possessed. To this man she had committed her life and there would be no going back. But then, becoming aware of his power, his strength, a feeling of wanting to belong to someone, to be cherished almost overwhelmed her. Feeling herself falling under some kind of spell and resentful of it, she was tempted to flee from the church, anything to escape these new, alien feelings Marcus had brought to life inside her.
She knew he was trying to snare her—it was like a clarion warning in her mind—and she knew it would be wise to flee, but she simply couldn’t. It was as if her feet were made of clay. Standing there, his hand holding hers, she suddenly realised that she didn’t want to run away, that without Marcus, there was an emptiness in her life that she did not want to admit. Her own lack of discipline and restraint frustrated her, but she wasn’t entirely certain whether to blame it on him or herself. She liked him to touch her and welcomed his attentions—and the heat and craving he awakened in her.
When the cleric pronounced them man and wife, with the collective eyes of all those present anticipating his next move, Marcus leaned forward to place a light kiss on her lips so as a seal to their union. His mouth was gentle on hers, as befitted the formal occasion in front of witnesses. Their duty done, they departed in the waiting carriage to St James’s Square for a private wedding breakfast.
Alone in the carriage with Marcus, Juliet felt as if the whole day had taken on an air of unreality, and she found it almost impossible to believe that the man sitting next to her was now her husband. She had married him but did not know him well. She glanced obliquely at him, telling herself how fortunate she was when she gazed at his clean-cut profile and proud, handsome features. Turning her mind to the physical side of their marriage, of her duty, and all that would come later, she experienced a curious mixture of terror and excitement.
She remembered how, when he had kissed her, he had made her feel suddenly alive, rekindling desires she had suppressed for so long. Desires that she had told herself she would never experience again after Thomas, which proved how little she knew her own body. The memory of those kisses brought colour flooding to her cheeks, and she looked away, but too late, for at that moment Marcus looked at her and laughed softly. Taking her hand in his own, he lightly touched the narrow golden ring on her finger before raising it to his lips.
The simple act of reassurance released her from her anxiety and she began to relax. The cold numbness that had gripped her from the moment she had left for the church began to melt, and the feel of his lips on her fingers sent a strange thrill soaring through her.
‘Tell me what you were thinking. What made you look away?’
‘Oh, nothing really. I was only thinking how fortunate I am.’
‘Are you happy?’
She nodded. ‘Yes. Yes, I am.’
‘No regrets?’
‘No, none that I can think of.’
He contemplated her for a moment, and Juliet was riveted by his gaze. ‘Did I tell you that you look exquisite?’
‘No, not yet.’
‘Then I will tell you now. You are beautiful, Juliet, like some perfect work of art.’
She laughed, a soft flush on her cheeks. ‘I’m sure every groom says that to his bride on their wedding day. I am no more beautiful than any other.’
His eyebrows rose. ‘I think I should be the judge of that, and perhaps they don’t all mean it as sincerely as I. It is no simple passion that torments me, Juliet, but an ever-increasing desire to have you with me every moment.’ Drawing her close, his eyes darkened as they fastened on her soft lips, moist and slightly parted, revealing her small white teeth.
His voice was husky when he spoke, which sent a tremor through Juliet. His breath was warm and close to her ear. She could not remain unmoved by the deep, caressing tone that was like a seductive whisper. Looking into his eyes, warm and liquid with desire, she saw what was in them, and she was moved and excited by it. Over the last couple of days, she had thought of him constantly, wondering what it would be like when she was his wife in the true sense, and now that he was close to her, he was more attractive, more desirable than ever, and the urgency to be even closer to him was more vivid than it had ever been. She swallowed, feeling her body grow warm.
‘Would you mind if I kissed my wife now that we are alone? For I fear that when we arrive at the house, I shall not have you to myself for—let me see—at least seven or eight hours.’
Juliet’s eyes widened in mock amazement and her mouth formed a silent O. ‘That long?’ and she smiled softly. ‘Then in that case, I think you should.’
Sliding his hand around her waist, he pulled her towards him, his eyes dark and full of tenderness. He did not kiss her at once but studied her face, close to his, with a kind of wonder, his eyes gazing intently into hers before settling on her parted lips, which he at last covered with his own, his arm about her waist tightening, drawing her closer, until their bodies were moulded together and Juliet could feel the hardness of his muscular body. Her heart was beating so hard that she was sure he must feel it. His lips, moist and warm, caressed hers, becoming firm and insistent as he felt her respond, kindling a fire inside her with such exquisite slowness, a whole new world exploding inside her. She raised her arms, fastening them around his neck, returning his kiss, her lips soft and clinging, moving upon his in a caress that seemed to last for an eternity.
Marcus’s lips left hers, and he buried them in the soft hollow of her throat. ‘I want you, Juliet. You can have no idea how much.’ His voice was a soft murmur, a gentle caress, his mouth close to her own once more. He heard the sharp intake of her breath, but she did not pull away from him, and when he lifted his head and looked at her, his eyes burned with naked desire.
Never had Juliet been as aware of another human being as she was of Marcus at that moment. Each of them was aware of a new intensity of feeling between them, a new excitement, both of them victims of the overwhelming forces at work between them. They stared at each other for a second of suspended time, which could as well have been an hour or two, and Juliet had a strange sensation of falling. She saw the deepening light in his eyes and the dark, silken lashes. She saw the defined brows and wanted to touch his face, to know him. She trembled inside, feeling as if she was on the threshold of something unknown, which caused fear to course through her but also something else, a longing so strong that she wanted to pull him towards her, for him to kiss her with all the savage intensity of his desire.
