The Bridegroom's Bargain

After she had left the room there was a short, difficult silence. Then Lexi broke it with a touch of her old impulsive style. ‘Did Johnny know about your father’s illness, Richard? Or did you keep it from him, too?’

‘I didn’t tell anyone.’

‘Why not? I thought Johnny was your best friend. I thought you and I were friends, too.’

Richard heard the hurt anger in her voice and said quickly, ‘Of course you are! You Rawdons are the only real family I’ve known.’ He frowned. ‘I’m sorry. I suppose I should have explained, but it’s a painful subject… I don’t find it easy to talk about it.’

‘Not even to us?’

‘Not even to you, Alexandra. You must have realised long ago that my father rejected me almost as soon as I was born. That’s no secret. We have always been strangers to each other. His illness was not serious at first, and though it was regrettable it was not important to me. But it now looks as if he might die. Have you any idea what that would mean?’

His bitter tone puzzled Lexi. ‘You inherit the title?’ she said uncertainly.

‘There’s much more to it than that. In spite of all the evidence, I’ve hoped all my life my father would one day finally accept me, that he might even show me a little affection. Stupid of me, I know.’ He raised his eyes, and they were for once unguarded. The pain in them made Lexi gasp. He looked away immediately. ‘If he dies now, any hope I might once have cherished about getting to know him will be lost forever…’

‘Richard…’ Quite forgetting her own feelings, Lexi went to him and put her hand on his arm. He looked down at it, but made no move to take it.

‘Then there’s the question of my future,’ he went on.

‘How?’

‘The Deverell estates are not entailed. My father is free to leave Channings and everything else he owns to anyone he chooses. The only certain income I have comes from what my mother left me.’

‘No! He couldn’t cut you out of your inheritance! It wouldn’t be right! You love Channings even more than he does!’

Richard said wearily, ‘He resents my very existence. How do I know what he might or might not do?’

‘But you haven’t done anything to justify such a terrible thing!’

‘Except to be born. To survive, when my mother didn’t.’

Lexi’s heart twisted at the bitterness in Richard’s voice. But she rallied and said passionately, ‘I don’t believe for one moment that Lord Deverell will cut you out of his will! He must at least be aware of what he owes to his name, if not to you personally. Channings would never survive without you! No, Richard, you must not even think it! And there’s still time for him to make some gesture towards you.’

‘A deathbed reconciliation? Most unlikely. But I’ll try. Alexandra, I’m sorry if I hurt you. Will you forgive me? We’ve always been friends. I wouldn’t want to lose you.’

‘Friends?’ She gave a wry smile. ‘Always, Richard. Forever.’

The Season came to an end and Lexi thanked her godmother and went back to Somerset. Lady Wroxford was reluctant to let her go.

‘I’ve enjoyed your company, my dear,’ she said. ‘Johnny is all Rawdon, but you… You may have the Rawdon hair, but you have the same lovely eyes as your dear mother. And you are like her in so many other ways.’ She hesitated. ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t find a husband to please you. I had great hopes for you when you came.’

‘Ma’am, please don’t blame yourself. No one could have been kinder or more concerned. But my heart was given away before I really knew I had one. There will never be anyone else for me.’

Lady Wroxford nodded sadly. ‘I hope Mr Deverell will eventually realise what a treasure he could have in you, but you’ll have to be patient. At the moment his future is so uncertain that no man of honour could ask a girl to share it. From what Honoria Standish says, his mother’s estate would hardly give him enough to live on.’

Lexi stared at her, then her face lit up. ‘You think that’s the reason he…? What a fool! What a great fool he is! As if I cared about his wretched inheritance! Oh, just wait till I see him!’

Her godmother looked very worried. ‘No, no, you mustn’t say anything, Lexi! Mr Deverell may be very fond of you, in fact, I’m sure he is, but love…? That I do not know. But I am also sure he’s a proud man, willing to ask favours of no one, not even someone he loved. You’ve learned a lot of restraint since coming to London, and my advice is to hold on to it now. This isn’t a child’s game, and you mustn’t think it is. No rushing in in your old style, do you hear? You won’t gain anything by it.’

‘Yes, yes! But Richard and I are friends. I can say anything to him. He won’t be offended. If only I were sure he loved me…’

Her godmother sighed. ‘Well, remember, Lexi… If anything should ever go wrong, don’t wait to ask if you can come here. I should be very glad to help you all I can—for your own sake, as well as your mother’s.’

Lord Deverell died without any attempt at reconciliation, but he had after all left everything to his son. However, the situation between Richard and Lexi was not to be resolved for another year. Channings itself had been well looked after, but the rest of the Deverell estates—some of them in Scotland—had been neglected for so long that Richard was forced to travel for the rest of the year to make the acquaintance of managers and stewards who had never seen him before, in order to satisfy himself that his possessions were in good hands. For the most part they were. The late Lord Deverell had been better served than he merited.

So Lexi saw little of Richard during this time, and when he came back she had no time herself. Her own father was taken ill and they thought for a while that he was going to die. He needed weeks of careful nursing and Lexi spent long hours in the sick room with him. Richard frequently came to sit with Sir Jeremy, chatting to him about local affairs and his own plans for Channings, but after taking a look at Lexi’s pale cheeks and heavy eyes he always insisted she should go out for a ride with Johnny, or a walk in the grounds. They seldom spent more than five minutes in each other’s company, and hardly any time alone.

Then, to the consternation of all those who had rejoiced in his defeat the year before, Napoleon escaped from Elba. Out of the blue, Johnny and Richard were recalled to service by the only man who could have persuaded them to come back to the Army—their commander in the Peninsula, Wellington himself. Because of his father’s recent illness, Johnny was given a post in London, but Richard was sent all round Europe with letters for Vienna, Brussels and the headquarters of other Allies as they all prepared for Napoleon’s attack.

He returned to London in the spring of 1815 and joined Johnny, who was acting as one of Wellington’s Liaison Officers at the Horse Guards. And at Easter they came down to Somerset for a whole week.

It was not altogether a happy visit. Richard seemed more than usually reserved, and Johnny was frequently moody, on edge and irritable. He was drinking more than he should, too. Lexi tried once or twice to ask him what was wrong, but he always put her off, and in the end she decided that if anyone was in Johnny’s confidence it would be Richard. But she had to wait till the day before they left before she could ask him about her brother.

They had all three planned to visit the river bank again, but at the last minute Johnny lost his temper over some triviality and decided not to come. Lexi made no attempt to dissuade him. She could not afford to miss this golden opportunity to have a private chat with Richard…

The weather was warm and the Somerset countryside was at its loveliest—the lanes around Rawdon were lined with hedgerows full of greenish-yellow catkins and the bridal white of blackthorn. The banks and verges below were even more colourful with spikes of purple orchids surrounded by clumps of pale yellow primroses and the delicate wood anemones of spring. The river was full of activity as small animals and birds enjoyed the Easter sunshine and prepared to set up their families. Richard talked a lot of the old days, and, though she felt it was cowardly, Lexi was content to let him. Her own heart was full as she remembered how they had laughed years before at the antics of the otters, how she had wanted Richard to kiss her…

‘This is wonderful!’ he said, breathing in the fresh, sweet-scented air. ‘You’ve no idea how much I’ve longed for it. After all my travels, to come home to this…’ He turned to look at her. ‘And to you. How are you, Alexandra?’

It was so unexpected that Lexi felt herself colouring. ‘I…I…I’m well,’ she stammered. ‘But you know that. Why do you ask?’

‘What about Transden? Is he well, too?’

She looked at him in astonishment. ‘Transden? Mr Transden? I have no idea.’

‘Really?’ He sounded sceptical.

‘Well, of course I haven’t! Whatever made you think I should? I haven’t seen or heard of Mr Transden since last summer.’

‘Is that true?’

‘Of course it is! He was a delightful dancing partner, but nothing more. What is all this? Why are you so curious about him?’

‘Last year most of London thought you would marry him.’

‘I can’t help what people thought last year! But I assure you that I never had the slightest intention of marrying Mr Transden.’

‘Lady Wroxford—’ Richard began. He stopped and began again. ‘When I saw Lady Wroxford in London recently she implied he was…he was still interested in you. She even seemed to think he might eventually persuade you to change your mind.’

Lexi could guess what Lady Wroxford had been up to. Her godmother had been seeing what a touch of jealousy might do. She said firmly, ‘My godmother can’t really think anything of the kind. She knows very well who—’ She stopped short. She had nearly betrayed herself. ‘She knows I have no interest in Mr Transden,’ she said firmly, then went on, ‘We shall stop talking nonsense and discuss something more important. I want to ask you about Johnny. There’s something wrong with him and I want to know what it is.’

‘What do you mean?’ he asked. His tone was guarded.

‘Don’t put me off. I’ve asked Johnny himself, but he won’t talk to me. I’m worried about him, and I was hoping you’d help. He’s been so…so short-tempered, especially this morning. Not only with me, but with my father and the servants as well.’

‘He probably had a hangover,’ said Richard easily. ‘We talked till late last night, and the wine flowed pretty freely. Don’t worry, Alexandra. He’ll come round.’

‘Will he?’ She was still doubtful. ‘I wonder… I’m sure there’s more to it than that.’

‘A lot of the work we do at the Horse Guards is devilish dull, and Johnny gets bored. You know what he’s like. He enjoys fighting in the open, where you can see your enemy, and the dangers are obvious. Chasing secret documents and looking after them is not the sort of activity he joined the army for.’

‘I can quite see that. But why are you and Johnny doing such work? I thought you were still on active service?’

‘We are! This is very active service, but it’s not the kind Johnny is used to. Napoleon’s spies would give their right arm to know some of the details in the Duke’s letters—where he needs the men, what sort of defences, all the rest.’ He added with a touch of impatience, ‘I sometimes think Boney’s spies are more interested in what Wellington needs than those fools in charge at the Horse Guards! And there’s always someone willing to sell information…’

He stopped, and they walked for a moment on in silence. They came to a halt at the stile. Here she paused. ‘Tell me, Richard,’ she said abruptly. ‘Is Johnny drinking?’

‘Of course. We all do!’

‘Don’t be so evasive! You know what I mean. Is Johnny drinking too much?’

Richard hesitated. ‘Perhaps. Certainly more than he used to. But don’t worry, Alexandra. He’s restless, but he’ll be himself again as soon as we rejoin the regiment. It can’t be long now—this break has come just in time. I doubt we’ll still be here in England after next month.’

This was a shock. Lexi swallowed and said, ‘I suppose that means you’ll both be going into battle.’

‘It looks very likely. This time it will be against Napoleon himself, not just his seconds-in-command the way it was in Spain. It won’t be quite so easy. Wellington is up to it. If he gets enough men.’

‘And I expect you’ll both feel happier. But it’s…it’s hard for us. We can only sit at home and hope you don’t get yourselves killed!’ She tried to laugh, but it turned into a sob halfway through.

He stopped in surprise and turned to face her. ‘Johnny and I will be all right, I promise. My dear girl, you mustn’t cry! Don’t, Alexandra! Please!’

‘I know I’m stupid,’ she replied, trying to wipe away the tears with her hand. ‘You and Johnny came back unharmed from Spain. It’s just…it’s just that Papa and I had hoped the wars were ended, and that Johnny would soon be at home for good. Papa is getting old and…and needs him.’ She scrubbed more vigorously as another tear rolled down her cheek.

‘Here, let me do that!’

He took out an immaculate handkerchief and, taking her chin in his hand, wiped her cheek. He finished, but the hand stayed under her chin, and he gazed at her intently. ‘And what about me, Alexandra?’ he asked softly. ‘Do you need me?’

She couldn’t stop herself. Looking at him with her heart in her eyes, she said simply, ‘More than my life.’

He drew a sharp breath. His lips barely moving, he said softly, ‘Do you remember asking me once if I wanted to kiss you, here at this stile?’

‘You said you didn’t.’

‘I lied to you. I wanted to all right, but you were too young. I had to wait. And then I kissed you at Vauxhall, and you were so angry… The kiss was everything I had dreamed of, but the waiting afterwards was even harder. Alexandra, if you knew how much that first time here by the stile has haunted me, how I have tried to forget it… But I never have. And now… If you were to ask me again if I wish to kiss you, I’ll tell you the truth this time.’ He put an arm round her, and lifted her chin. Gazing deep into her eyes, he said softly, ‘Ask me again, Alexandra.’

‘Do you…do you want to kiss me, Richard?’

He smiled and then began to kiss her, at first gently, as if she were something infinitely precious, then, feeling her response, he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her eyes, her chin, her throat, seeking and finding the pulse beating wildly there. Then he took her into his arms and the kisses became more demanding. He seemed to envelop her, holding her so closely that she thought she could feel every bone and muscle of his body. Lexi’s own bones were melting with delight. She felt no shame. This was where she wanted to be, this was what she had waited for all her life, or so it seemed. She was impatient to be absorbed by him, become part of him, she was nothing without him…

After a moment he took a deep breath and held her away. ‘I…I think that’s enough for the moment,’ he said somewhat unsteadily. ‘Dear God, Alexandra, you have such power over me. No one else can make me forget the world and everything else in it as you do.’

‘Richard?’ she whispered, unaware of the pleading note in her voice.

‘We mustn’t go any further,’ he said, roughly. He gave an incredulous laugh. ‘You are…totally desirable. But we mustn’t go any further. You know that, don’t you?’

When she looked away from him without saying anything, he gave her a little shake. ‘Don’t you, Alexandra?’

She nodded. Then, taking her hands in his, he kissed her gently and said, ‘We only have to wait a little longer, my lovely one. My lovely, and…very dear Alexandra. Wait till after this business with the French is over. Then at long last it will be time to talk about our future…’

Chapter Four

I n her bedroom at Channings, trapped, it seemed, in the marriage she had so longed for, Lexi turned her head frantically to and fro on the pillow. Why couldn’t she forget? Those words of Richard’s haunted her. They had been so tender, so full of promise. ‘My lovely, and very dear Alexandra, my lovely and very dear Alexandra, my lovely Alexandra…Alexandra…’ No one else called her Alexandra. Richard always gave it a special sound… Why couldn’t she forget?

Lexi groaned and turned over. A deep sob escaped her. Murdie was there. She got up and held a glass to her lips. It tasted bitter, and in a few minutes she felt herself falling thankfully into oblivion again…

The next day Murdie was sitting by the bed when Richard returned to his wife’s bedside. ‘I thought my aunt would be here,’ he said. ‘Where is she?’

‘Her ladyship went to her own room, my lord. Lady Deverell was asleep, so she decided to have a rest herself.’

‘I see. Well, you may go, too, Murdie. I’ve come to sit with my wife.’ When Murdie hesitated he added firmly, ‘I’m sure your mistress has need of your services.’

Murdie looked at him, her face carefully indifferent, then curtsied and left the room.

Richard cast a glance at the sleeping figure on the bed, then fetched the wing chair over from the window and sat down to wait. He was weary beyond measure. His careful plans had gone wildly astray, but if he was to save something from the wreck it was time to talk to Alexandra. She still didn’t want him to. Even the damned maidservant knew that. But he had Dr Loudon’s assurance that she was strong enough, strong enough even to get up, and he had decided not to wait any longer.

He still had no idea what they would say to one another…

So far, at least, there had been no hint of scandal. Only the five who had been there in the vestry knew of the sensational sequel to the wedding ceremony, and since then Alexandra had had no visitors. But if the situation continued as it was for much longer, the gossip would soon start. Some way of living together had to be found, if only for the next six months…

Richard put his head in his hands. After the tumult of the last few years, after so many barriers to his happiness, the prospect of settling down at last at Channings with Alexandra Rawdon had seemed…very attractive. He smiled warily. Attractive? Why couldn’t he admit his real feelings, just for once, just to himself? He had longed for it passionately. He had known he was taking a risk in marrying her so hastily, so soon after the shock of her father’s death, but it had seemed the only thing to do. That death had changed what had been a difficult situation into a nightmare…

Richard got up and walked restlessly about the room. He had other reasons for marrying Alexandra, but his betrothal and marriage to Sir Jeremy’s heiress had given him access to the papers connected with the Rawdon estates. He had sorted out the worst of the problems before the wedding and hoped that with time he could deal with the rest, too, discreetly, before anyone else found out what the late owner of Rawdon Hall had done…

He glanced at the bed. Alexandra was still asleep. That had been the other, more important reason, of course. He had been desperate to take care of her. She had been left so alone in the world, without a home… Mark Rawdon was a pleasant enough fellow, but he was still something of a stranger. Alexandra could not have carried on living at Rawdon after her father’s death. No, an early marriage had been necessary. But, in thinking it would solve his problems, he had been disastrously over-optimistic…

He looked again at the figure on the bed. What had caused Alexandra’s sudden change of heart? Why had she turned against him? There had been no sign of it when he had asked her to marry him, and that had been a bare five weeks ago. She had changed some time shortly before the wedding. When he had tried to find out what was wrong her answers had been evasive and she had afterwards avoided him. Aunt Honoria had talked of pre-wedding nerves, and he had accepted that as the probable explanation. Not in his worst nightmares had he imagined she was planning anything like the scene in the vestry.

Would she have gone through with it and shot him if he hadn’t intervened? He must have thought so then, or he wouldn’t have thought it necessary to buy time with that lunatic promise. Six months to prove her accusations wrong. How the devil was he to do it? Telling her the truth would make nonsense of all his efforts of the past few months. But one way or another he must find a way of satisfying her. One thing was quite obvious. Someone, somewhere, wanted to make mischief for the Rawdon family, and the sooner he found out who it was the better it would be for everyone, Alexandra, Mark Rawdon and himself.

Damn the troublemaking villain, whoever he was. Who had told Alexandra about that card game between Richard and her father? She was far from stupid. She wouldn’t let it rest there. When she was herself again she was certain to ask why her father had risked everything on the turn of a card. And what the devil would he tell her? Jeremy and Johnny Rawdon were now both dead, but what would it do to her to learn why her father had been so ready to risk disaster and disgrace?

Richard shook his head. His plans may have gone badly wrong, but he had at least succeeded in protecting her father’s reputation. No one now need ever know that Sir Jeremy Rawdon, a former magistrate and a pillar of society, had broken the law. It had taken a great deal of his skill and time between Sir Jeremy’s death and his own marriage to Alexandra to straighten it all out, but he had succeeded. Ironically, she now apparently held his efforts against him.

It was even more ironic that she had accused him of meddling with the evidence of Johnny’s death. In that instance she was perfectly right, of course… He had.

The figure on the bed sighed and stirred. Richard moved over to the bedside and sat down.

‘Could I have a drink of water?’ she said in a cracked voice. ‘Dr Loudon’s draughts always leave my mouth feeling so dry!’

Richard got up and poured a glass of water. He put his arm round her shoulders and held her upright. ‘Here,’ he said, holding it to her lips. ‘Drink.’

Lexi’s eyes flew wide open and an expression of horror appeared on her face. ‘You!’ she said with loathing. She struck the glass away with such force that water splashed down her nightgown and over the bedclothes.

‘You stupid child, Alexandra!’ said Richard irritably, as he picked up the glass and put it on the table. ‘What do you think you’re doing? I’m not an ogre!’

‘I don’t want anything to do with you! Fetch the maid! Fetch Murdie!’

‘I’ll fetch no one. I want to talk to you.’

She made a move to get up, but he pushed her back against the pillows and held her there, firmly. His face just inches away from hers, he said softly, ‘You might as well listen, my dear. I’ve waited long enough. You’re not leaving this room before we’ve had our talk, even if I have to use force to keep you here.’

‘You can’t do that!’

‘Oh, yes, I can. We are man and wife, Alexandra. Had you forgotten? Short of murder, I can do anything with you. Anything at all. Do you understand? No one would dream of interfering with what I do here in your bedroom.’

Lexi slid down in the bed, her eyes dark with fear. ‘Lady Honoria—’ she began, with a quaver in her voice.

‘Aunt Honoria won’t help you. She’s more likely to recommend a whipping if you’re strong enough.’

Lexi’s eyes grew larger and darker.

‘But you needn’t worry,’ Richard said. ‘I won’t listen to her.’

She swallowed and drew the sheet up higher. ‘Then…then what are you going to do?’

He pushed himself up and away, and stood regarding her for a moment. He said with a touch of bitterness, ‘You surely don’t really believe I’m about to join you in that bed and make love to you, do you?’

‘You…you said we were man and w…wife,’ she said nervously.

‘My dear girl, I don’t regard myself as particularly squeamish, but it would take a stronger stomach than mine to make love to a wife who has just threatened to kill me. What do you think I’m made of?’