Proposals in Regency Society: Make-Believe Wife / The Homeless Heiress

Roxanne stifled her feelings of unease. ‘I pray you will not invent too many lies, sir, for I may forget them.’

‘We shall keep your story as simple as possible,’ he promised. ‘You must expect some questions, Roxanne. Grandfather is bound to wonder why I have given into his request so tamely.’

‘You must endeavour to look as if you are in love, Luke,’ she said and gave him a smile of positive wickedness. ‘Liking will not serve or he will sense a mystery. If you have resisted his plea thus far, he must be convinced of your sincerity or you may do more harm than good.’

‘You are very right,’ Luke agreed and looked thoughtful. ‘Let us hope that I can play my part as well as I expect of you.’

‘Watch me often and look pleased or brooding,’ she suggested and her mouth pouted at him. ‘It should not be beyond you, Luke. I dare say you have wooed enough ladies to know how to court the love of your life.’

‘You have a wicked tongue,’ Luke remarked and grinned. ‘Do not be afraid of Grandfather, Roxanne. I think his bark worse than his bite—besides, he should be happy to meet you. You are exactly what he has looked for.’

‘Let us hope that is the case. If not, you can apologise to him and take me away.’

‘He wants me married and an heir,’ Luke said. ‘Play your part well and he will soon be eating from your hand, my love.’

‘Yes, that is better,’ Roxanne approved. ‘You had the tone just right then. I was almost convinced myself.’ She took off her smart leather glove, looking at the huge square emerald-and-diamond ring on her left hand. It was proof that she was truly caught up in this masquerade, pretending to be Luke’s betrothed. ‘This is magnificent enough to convince anyone.’

‘I could not do less. Had I given you something paltry Grandfather would not have been fooled for an instant.’

‘Any jewels you lend me will of course be returned when we part,’ Roxanne replied. ‘All I shall ask is a small income so that I can live quietly but respectably.’

‘Yes, well, as to that we shall see. That ring belongs to you, Roxanne, whatever may happen when we get to Hartingdon.’ Luke helped her into the carriage and stepped back. ‘I shall be close by. Should you need to stop, you may tap the roof and the driver will oblige you.’

Roxanne sat back against the squabs and looked out of the window. She had butterflies in her stomach, for the role she was about to play was important, far more demanding than anything she had accomplished before. If she failed, she would be letting Luke down and perhaps hurting a vulnerable old man.

She would not fail. Roxanne did not think she had come from Luke’s class, but she was certain that she had been reared as a gentlewoman. Why had she run away from her home—and what had frightened her so much that she’d lost her memory?

It could not matter. Her engagement was merely make believe and intended to be a temporary arrangement.

Would the earl be fooled by their little charade? Luke wondered as he rode just behind the carriage. It was perfectly possible that he would throw them both out and disown his grandson, as he had threatened. That would be a deuced nuisance and the ensuing row would be messy and unpleasant. He could not let Beth Fox and her son Harry down. He had promised to support her for the rest of her life in comfort and would keep his promise, which meant he must fight for his income if forced. He would also need to keep his promise to Roxanne if things went wrong.

Luke wanted to avoid a quarrel if at all possible. He had no desire to be the cause of the earl’s death—nor did he particularly wish to inherit a large and cumbersome estate that would require a much larger commitment than his own did at present. It would suit him if the earl lived for some years longer, yet he needed his own income intact.

It was such a coil and so unnecessary. Why must the earl be such a pompous fool, making unreasonable demands on his grandson? Anger mixed with regret as he considered his childhood. Alone and grieving for his parents, he had looked for a sign of love or softness in the earl and found none. Because he was hurt, he had drawn into himself and rejected his grandfather. The estrangement between them had begun years ago and they had drifted apart. For a long time Luke had believed there was nothing between them, but now he was not so sure.

Had he been as indifferent to his grandfather as he had pretended to be since reaching his maturity, he would simply have walked away and left him to make Harte his heir. However, that particular rogue would rejoice at the earl’s early demise and make short work of his fortune. He might behave as if butter would not melt in his mouth when in the earl’s presence, but Luke knew him for what he was—and that was something that left an unpleasant taste in the mouth. Naturally, he would never mention Harte’s true nature to his grandfather.

On the other hand, Hartingdon might embrace Roxanne with open arms and demand a marriage sooner rather than later. At the moment she was resisting the idea stoutly, but once she had become accustomed to her surroundings she might change her mind. Luke had dismissed the idea of a convenient marriage for years, but since coming up with the idea of this make-believe engagement, he had found that he did not dislike it as much as before—providing the young woman in question was Roxanne.

The calm and enterprising manner in which she had embarked on this whole adventure had made Luke admire her more than any other young woman of his acquaintance. Her circumstances would have broken a lesser spirit, but she seemed resilient and eager for life. She was courageous, honest, and, of late, he had found her both charming and amusing as a companion. It might be perfectly possible to have the kind of businesslike marriage they had spoken of with Roxanne—if she could be brought to agree.

Love was something he still felt belonged to the realms of myths and fairy tales. However, he did like the young woman riding in the carriage ahead of him, and if she were to agree, he would not entirely dislike the idea of marriage and children.

Yet there might come a time when he found someone he truly wished to wed. Luke shook his head. His father had strayed from the marriage bed, not just into the arms of a mistress, but with a woman he professed to want too much to give up. That day in the carriage when his parents had argued so disastrously, Luke’s father had been talking of a separation or a divorce. When Luke’s mother became hysterical he had begged her pardon, but she would not listen—and then it was too late for all of them.

Thrown clear of the wreckage that had taken their lives and changed his own so dramatically, he had vowed that he would never hurt anyone as his father had hurt his mother. A sham marriage built on lies was bound to end in bitterness and tears—but a business arrangement was another matter and perhaps a sensible young woman like Roxanne would be able to see its advantages.

As yet they hardly knew one another. Some time spent visiting the earl would rectify that and, if they continued to get along, Luke could suggest that they turn this make-believe engagement into a real marriage.

Naturally, she would still be free to lead her own life much of the time, as would he. Their children would be in the nursery, cared for by a nurse and— No! Suddenly, Luke recalled his own childhood after he was left to the mercy of his grandfather. He would wish to spend time with his own children and to help teach them what life was about. They should not be left to the sole care of servants.

Luke frowned, for the thought brought complications. It might not be as easy to partition his life into different compartments as he had imagined.

Perhaps for the time being it would be best to stay with his original idea and separate once his grandfather was dead. He was amazed at how disappointed that thought made him feel.

Roxanne’s heart thudded as she glanced out of the window and saw the huge sprawl of Hartingdon. She had known it must be a large house, but this was so big, way beyond her expectation, some parts much older than others and an ancient tower at one corner. How did one ever find one’s way about in such a place? She had thought she would find it easy to play the part of a respectable young lady, but suddenly the task seemed far more daunting than she had imagined. She would be unmasked immediately and the earl would have her thrown out on her ear.

Risking a glance at the girl sitting opposite her, she saw that Tilly was looking terrified. The girl had no previous experience of working in a house such as this, though she had sometimes helped ladies who stayed at her aunt and uncle’s inn without their own maids.

‘Do not be too anxious, Tilly.’

‘It is a big house, miss.’

‘Yes, it is. I dare say you will soon get used to it.’

Roxanne smiled reassuringly, though her stomach was tying itself in knots as the carriage slowed to a halt and then stopped. A groom opened the carriage door and immediately stood back, allowing a man in a black-and-gold uniform to assist her. She took the footman’s hand and was helped down just as Luke gave the reins of his horse to a groom and came to her.

‘Have courage,’ he whispered. ‘It looks daunting, I know, but it is just a house.’

Roxanne lifted her head proudly, but she could not quite control the trembling of her hand as she placed it on his arm. Briefly, Luke covered it with his own and smiled at her. They walked towards the door, where a small group of servants wearing the earl’s colours of black and gold had assembled.

‘This is Marshall, my grandfather’s valet, and Mrs Arlet, the housekeeper.’

A tall thin woman dressed completely in black dipped a curtsy. ‘Welcome, Miss Peters. Please allow me to present the staff.’

Roxanne was led down a line of maids and footmen, ending with the scullery maid and the boot boy. She kept her head high and a smile on her lips, giving just the faintest nod to them all. It was the way a properly brought up young woman would act, she was sure, and brought her a look of respect from the housekeeper. However, she noticed that Luke chatted to one or two of the footmen and smiled at the pretty parlour maid. Such behaviour was acceptable from him, for he had known the staff all his life. She was a newcomer and should keep her distance, at least for the moment.

‘Perhaps you would take my fiancée up to her chamber, Mrs Arlet?’

‘Yes, my lord, of course. This way, Miss Peters.’

Roxanne glanced at Luke, but he was talking to the earl’s valet. She steadied her nerves and followed the housekeeper up the wide magnificent staircase, her gaze moving to the high-vaulted ceiling of the entrance hall. The banisters were heavily carved mahogany, which had darkened with age and polish, the stone steps covered over with a rich blue Persian-style carpet. The entrance hall floor was tiled in black-and-white marble, but the hall upstairs was covered in the same carpet and looked a recent addition to the elsewhere-faded grandeur of the house.

‘The earl ordered that you be given the best suite of guestrooms, miss,’ Mrs Arlet said as she led the way along the hall and into the east wing. ‘They have recently been refurbished. This is a large house and in constant need of repair or refurbishment. Some of the family rooms have not been used in an age, so nothing has been done to them. No doubt that will change when his lordship marries.’

‘Yes, I would imagine so,’ Roxanne said, her heart racing. Naturally everyone would expect a marriage to be forthcoming. A tiny pang of guilt pierced her, because the housekeeper looked pleased at the idea of change. ‘I think—perhaps you would give me a little tour of the house one day, Mrs Arlet? Not just the main reception rooms—but the kitchen and anywhere else I ought to see.’

‘Yes, miss. I should be pleased to, though Lord Clarendon will show you his own rooms, I dare say. The west wing is not often used, because the tower is in need of repair. Lord Clarendon’s parents once occupied that wing but after the accident the earl closed the whole wing off, and no one bothers to go there.’

‘The accident…’

‘When the late Lord and Lady Clarendon were killed, miss.’

‘Ah, yes,’ Roxanne nodded. ‘I was not sure of your meaning.’

‘No, miss. I suppose there have been a few accidents in the family, what with the earl’s only son dying of a fever when he was in his teen years—and then the earl’s wife taking a chill after being caught in a rainstorm. I think it broke the master’s heart when his daughter was killed so cruelly. He never quite got over it, for she was his favourite.’ Mrs Arlet shook her head. ‘They have not been a lucky family, but I am certain that is all about to change now, miss.’

‘Yes, we must hope so,’ Roxanne replied. It was amazing how much she had learned from the housekeeper in just a few minutes. Luke had told her his parents’ story, but not the rest of it. She understood now why he was prepared to go through with this sham engagement in order to please his grandfather in his last months. She must not let him down, however hard it might be to carry off the part of a loving fiancée. ‘That is up to me in part, is it not?’

‘There’s been a different atmosphere here since the letter came,’ Mrs Arlet said. She unlocked a door and stood back for Roxanne to enter. ‘The earl gave orders for most of the rooms to be opened up immediately. We’ll be giving a ball to celebrate his lordship’s engagement, miss. Everyone will want to meet you.’

‘Oh…yes, of course,’ Roxanne said and took a deep breath as she looked about her. ‘This is beautiful, thank you. When will the ball be held? I am not sure I brought a gown suitable for a grand ball.’

‘No doubt that can be rectified, miss. There are bales of silk in the sewing room waiting for just such a purpose. We’ll fetch the seamstress from town and she will be pleased to serve you. You’ll be the countess one day, after all.’

‘Yes.’ Roxanne looked round. ‘I think perhaps I should tidy myself.’

‘Yes, miss. The earl will be waiting for you in the main parlour downstairs. If you could be ready, I shall serve tea in twenty minutes.’

‘I can be ready, but I’m not certain I know where to go.’

‘Lord bless you, miss. Just go down the stairs to the main hall and someone will direct you. The footmen are here for that very purpose and we are all eager to make your stay at Hartingdon as pleasant as possible.’

Roxanne thanked her and she went away. She was left standing in a small but pretty sitting room and beyond that was a bedroom. The main colours were green, gold, cream and yellow, which gave the rooms a light bright appearance. Roxanne ran her fingers reverently over the surface of a delicate and very pretty desk suitable for a lady. An elbow chair was set ready for use; the sofa was covered in green-striped silk and there was a rolled cushion at each end. Small occasional tables were dotted about the room and a bookcase with leather-bound volumes and porcelain figures behind the glass doors occupied the length of one wall.

Going into the bedroom, which was equally well furnished with a dressing table, matching chests and a padded stool at the end of the bed, Roxanne took off her pelisse and let it fall on one of the pretty chairs. She sat down in front of the dressing table and studied her reflection in the shield-shaped mirror. The frame was fashioned of smooth mahogany and inlaid with satinwood, set on a stand so that it could be moved to give a better view. The table was set out with silver items, including brushes and combs and perfume pots. How much luxury there was in a house like this!

She had removed her bonnet earlier and now took the brush to smooth over her hair, pulling at the tendrils that framed her face. She was wearing a silver brooch in her lace, but otherwise had no jewellery other than her ring. Touching the brooch, she smiled because it reminded her of Sofia and she could almost hear her friend applauding.

‘Now we shall see if I really am fit to be a lady,’ she said softly. ‘Wish me luck, dearest Sofia.’

‘You were born to the part, dearest.’

For a moment it was as if her friend were with her and she felt her courage return. Her part here was not to deceive for advantage, but to bring comfort and joy to an old man’s last days.

Roxanne’s things had not yet been brought up so she did not have the opportunity to change her gown; deciding that she looked the best she could after her journey, she left the bedroom and retraced her steps to the landing.

At the bottom of the stairs two footmen were discussing something and she caught the words ‘beauty and better than expected’, before they became aware of her standing there.

‘You were quick, miss,’ one of them said, a faint colour in his cheeks. ‘Mrs Arlet said to take you to the back parlour when you came down. It is the master’s favourite room these days. He mostly uses it when he is alone, though we’ll be using the drawing room for tea in future.’

‘Shall you?’ Roxanne said, controlling the urge to smile. Clearly the servants here considered themselves part of the family and that was somehow fitting. ‘There is no need to stand on ceremony for my sake. Please take me to the earl—I believe Mrs Arlet said your name was Jarvis?’

‘Yes, Miss Peters,’ he replied, seeming surprised that she should remember. ‘If you would like to come this way.’

‘Thank you,’ she said and inclined her head in her most regal manner.

Roxanne’s heart was hammering against her ribs as she followed the footman through to the back of the house. He paused before a pair of impressive double doors and then threw them open with a little flourish.

‘Miss Peters, my lord.’

Jarvis stood to one side so that Roxanne could enter; when she did so, he closed the doors behind her with a snap. Immediately, she saw the elderly man rise to his feet. He was tall, though a little stooped about his shoulders, thinner than she thought healthy, his hair dark pewter and his white brows bushy and slightly raised, intimidating. His eyes, though, were of a similar colour to Luke’s and for some reason that made her smile. She was, she imagined, looking at Lord Clarendon as he would be one day in the distant future. The two gentlemen were very alike despite the years between them.

‘Miss Peters? You are down sooner than that graceless scamp my grandson.’

‘Since I could not change my gown to greet you, I thought it better to come sooner rather than later,’ she replied and moved towards him, her hand outstretched. ‘Luke has told me a little about you, sir—and you are very like him.’

‘You are the first to say so in an age, though his mother often told me that he would be my image one day. Unfortunately, she did not live to see it. I have thought that a good thing, for she would have been disappointed in the young rogue—but now I am not so sure.’

‘I know that Luke has not always behaved in a way that pleased you,’ Roxanne said. ‘But you must not disparage him to me, you know.’

‘You are prepared to defend him if I do?’

‘I should be a poor fiancée if I did not—do you not think so, sir?’

The earl glared at her for a few seconds, then gave a harsh laugh. ‘I think he has done better than I imagined. I was prepared for you to be one of his doxies—but you ain’t, are you?’

‘Certainly not. I have been no man’s plaything and have no intention of it.’ Her eyes flashed a challenge at him. ‘Do you really think so poorly of him, sir? It would be unkind to bring a lady of that nature into your home. From what I know of Luke, he would not be so discourteous to you.’

‘You’re an outspoken miss. I can see why he picked you, Miss Peters.’

‘I fear I was taught to speak my mind and to be independent as much as possible. I should be happier if you were to call me Miss Roxanne—or simply by my given name.’

‘You have an older sister?’

‘No—but everyone always calls me Miss Roxanne. I prefer it.’

‘Do you, now? I wonder why?’ He stared at her a moment longer, then took her hand and bent over it, lifting it to his papery-dry lips to salute her with a kiss. ‘Come and sit down and tell me something about yourself.’

‘I am quite unremarkable, sir,’ Roxanne replied. She sat in the chair at the opposite end of the imposing fireplace so that he too might sit. ‘I have little family and, until she died, lived with the lady who cared for me after…I lost my home.’

‘Clarendon’s letter said that your father is in India and you do not wish to marry until he gives his permission?’

‘Do you not think that the proper thing to do, sir?’

His bushy brows met in a frown. ‘Humph. Clever with words, ain’t you? No fortune, I suppose—are you after his money, girl?’

‘I did not agree to this engagement for money.’

‘It was a bit sudden. He told me nothing of you the last time he was down here, then announces he’s engaged. Why would he do that—and why should you agree?’

‘I should be a liar if I said that Luke’s proposal was not appealing. I was in some difficulty and I am almost alone in the world, for I have not heard from my father in years. However, I have respect and liking for Luke and I believe he feels the same. I consented to the engagement—with the understanding that it would not continue if you should dislike it.’

Hartingdon’s gaze narrowed. ‘Willing to give him up for a consideration?’

‘I said no such thing,’ Roxanne replied, refusing to be ruffled by his pricking at her. ‘I should not wish to cause trouble between you, for I know that he holds you in affection. You do not need to pay me to make me go away, sir. I shall leave at once if my presence here offends you.’

‘Do not talk rubbish, girl. You look and behave like a lady. Might not be out of the top drawer, but I ain’t fool enough to send you packing—at least until I discover the truth of the matter. If he really means to settle down and provide me with an heir, you will do well enough, I dare say.’

Roxanne was not called upon to reply for the doors opened and a footman announced Lord Clarendon. Luke advanced into the room, looking strangely apprehensive.

‘Roxanne, I intended to be with you when you met Grandfather,’ he said, his gaze going from one to the other. ‘Everything all right, sir? How are you today? Better, I trust?’

‘Well enough. Don’t fuss, boy. I cannot abide people fussing over me. That fool of a doctor is bad enough without you.’

‘I see your mood has not much improved, sir.’ Luke’s mouth firmed. ‘I hope he has not bitten your head off, Roxanne? I assure you he is not always this ill tempered.’

Roxanne looked from one to the other and then laughed. ‘Oh dear, you both look so cross—like two bulldogs who have been quarrelling over a bone, which has been suddenly snatched from under your noses by a mongrel pup.’

For a moment there was silence and then Luke grinned. ‘You are perfectly right, dearest. It is ridiculous to argue over trivial things. Forgive me, Grandfather. I did not come down here to quarrel with you.’

‘Why did you come?’ The earl looked at him suspiciously. ‘Am I supposed to believe that you truly intend to settle down and do your duty?’

‘What is my duty, sir? I hope that you will continue to live for some years yet in the full enjoyment of your estate. If you need help or advice with business matters I should be pleased to give it—though whether you would wish to receive it is another matter.’

‘I have agents and fellows enough to run the place,’ the earl grunted, ‘though you might take the trouble to ride the estate with Tonkins while you are here. Some of the cottages may need renovation. It was in my mind to do it some years back, but I let things slip, though I’ve no cause for complaint in Tonkins’s management as far as I know.’

‘I shall be pleased to do so, both with him and on my own, while we stay with you,’ Luke told him. ‘May I take it that Roxanne and I have your blessing?’

‘You puzzle me, Clarendon. You have flouted my wishes since you reached your majority and became independent. Now, it seems you wish to please me—why? Afraid of losing your inheritance?’