Despised & Desired: The Marquess' Passionate Wife Page 8
And on top of everything, he was to be married soon. Frederick shook his head. He could only hope that his mother would take her time choosing his bride for the mere thought of having a wife brought a sense of dread to his stomach, like a block of ice settling in and spreading its cold into every fibre of his being.
After all, marriage was the centrepiece of deep emotions; emotions such as love, affection, trust and hope. Remembering the way Leopold and Maryann had always looked at each other, Frederick shook his head. He was not capable of these feelings. He didn’t even know if he ever had been. Before the war was a time that he barely recalled. After all, it had no significance for his life now.
Everything had changed. The innocence of those days could never be regained.
His head snapped up when a knock sounded on the door.
“Enter,” he called, shuffling the papers on his desk from one side to another. He would deal with those tomorrow.
“Frederick, I have good news,” his mother announced, flying into the room. Although she still seemed as fragile as a porcelain figurine, her eyes shone with a new-found purpose. Frederick even thought to detect a glimmer of hope in her gaze.
Clearing his throat, he rose to his feet, gesturing for his mother to sit. However, she merely shook her head, grasping his hands. A smile on her face, she looked up at him.
“You said you have good news, Mother,” he reminded her, wondering what had put that twinkle in her eyes. Whatever her news was, he thought it would be a most welcome exception to the norm. Lately, all news had rather been of the unpleasant kind, the kind he could do without.
Her smile deepened. “I’ve found the perfect woman for you.”
Frederick’s stomach twisted as though he had just received a punch in the gut. “What?” he gasped, unable to believe his ears. This was definitely not good news!
“Her parents agreed to a short engagement,” his mother continued, pulling him forward to-ward the seats under the window front, “so that the wedding will take place a month from today.”
“A month,” Frederick echoed, sinking into the armchair next to his mother’s. All strength left him as his mother chatted on happily.
“They were a bit surprised,” she admitted, “however, her father instantly agreed.” Her eyes settled on his face, and she raised an eyebrow at him. “Don’t you want to know who the woman is?”
Frederick shrugged. “What does it matter?”
His mother frowned at him before patting his knee. “I know that this is not what you had in mind, but believe me, a wife is exactly what you need right now. Your brother,” she swallowed, and a hint of sadness returned to her eyes, “was a bit lost, too, when he came of age. However, as soon as Maryann had stepped into his life, he was focused and steady in his plans; and most of all, he was happy.” A deep smile drew up the corners of her mouth, and yet, sadness still clung to her eyes. “I want you to be happy, Frederick. You are my son, and I cannot bear to see you so lost day in and out.”
“I’m not lost,” Frederick protested.
His mother cocked her head, her eyebrows rising into arches.
Frederick shook his head. “Fine. I admit I am far from happy at the moment; however, that is not reason enough for me to get married.”
“But you agreed,” his mother countered, a hint of apprehension on her face. “You agreed, and now, you are betrothed. You cannot go back on your word. Everything has been arranged.” She took a deep breath. “I did not wish to bother you with the details of this arrangement for I know how busy the estate keeps you. My intention was not to keep you out but to lighten the burden you carry.”
Squeezing his mother’s hand, Frederick nodded. “I meant no disrespect,” he conceded. “I was merely surprised.”
“I know all of this is rather abrupt,” she said, once again patting his knee, “but I ask you to put your faith in me. I only have your best interests at heart.”
Again, Frederick nodded. Maybe his mother was right. After all, he had no idea what he needed at the moment.
All of a sudden, his life was tied to Elmridge, and the only things on his mind were the du-ties and responsibilities that came with it. He had forgotten what he wanted a long time ago. After all, it did not matter. So, why shouldn’t he marry? He needed an heir in order to protect his family.
However, once he had fulfilled his duty, there would be little reason for him to stay. A steward could handle the day-to-day business of the state until his son would be of age. Yes, once he had an heir, he would be free to return to the continent.
“All right,” his mother said as the frown lines left her face. “Shall I tell you about her?”
Frederick shrugged. Did it matter who she was? After all, she would be a stranger; someone who did not have the slightest idea of who he was, either. Then again, how could she? He didn’t even know himself anymore.
“Would you at least care to know her name?” his mother asked, shaking her head. “Frederick, you really ought to take an interest. After all, this is your future wife we are talking about.”
“Fine.” He sat up straight and met her eyes. “What is her name?”
“Miss Elsbeth Munford. She is Baron Harlowe’s eldest daughter.”
Frederick shrugged. “I don’t believe I’ve ever met her. Her name does not sound familiar.”
“You have been gone for a long time,” his mother reminded him. “Most of the young ladies out now were still too young then.”
Frederick froze. Swallowing, he addressed his mother, “She is not…I mean, this is not her first season, is it?”
“No, it is not.”
Relief spread over him at his mother’s words. He could not imagine marrying an eighteen-year-old debutante. He would probably frighten her to death. Poor girl!
“She has been out in society for a few years. However, a while back, she had an accident, which got in the way of her prospects. Most consider her on the shelf, as they say; however, when I saw her, I knew she was the one.”
Frederick nodded. “Good,” he mumbled, hoping that a few extra years had hardened her to the way of the world. Strangely enough, he pitied her for having to marry him. After all, her new home resembled a tomb while its inhabitants moved about like lifeless puppets, and her husband was a mere shadow of himself. Yes, she would need all the strength she could find in order to sur-vive under such gloomy circumstances.
“Then we are in agreement?” his mother asked, expectant eyes searching his face.
“We are,” Frederick confirmed. The sooner he fathered an heir, the sooner he would be able to take his leave.
Chapter Eleven − A New Life Awaits
Her heart pounding in her chest, Ellie looked out the carriage window at the vast pastures stretching to the horizon. Early May had come on swift wings of a summerly breeze, giving colour to the green land as it came to life under a warming sun. Far in the distance, she spotted Elmridge Manor as the land sloped down and ran toward a massive forest, which surrounded the estate like a protective wall.
“Now, at all times, do remember your manners,” her mother counselled for the hundredth time since they had set off from London. “After tomorrow, you will be a marchioness, and it is par-amount that people see you as such. I want you to hold your head high, but do be polite.”
His head resting against the carriage wall, her father slept soundly, the occasional snore disrupting her mother’s monologue. Watching him, Ellie wondered if she ought to feign sleep herself. Would her mother even notice?
“By the way, I made sure that Lord Haston received an invitation−”
“What?” Ellie gasped as her head snapped around, and her eyes stared at her mother. “Why?”
Shaking her head, her mother looked at her with disapproving eyes. “It is rude to interrupt, Elsbeth. After we secured such a favourable match for you, the least you could do is honour us by behaving your best.”
“Yes, Mother,” Ellie mumbled. “Why did you invite him?”
&nbs
p; Her mother frowned at her as though the answer should be fairly obvious. “After he ended his courtship, I am certain he felt you would be on the shelf for good.” Didn’t you as well, Mother? Ellie thought. “However, now, you are marrying a man who is his social superior.” Her mother chuckled. “That ought to teach him to snub us.”
Ellie sighed, relieved that after today she would not have to deal with her mother’s match-making schemes any longer.
Settling back into her seat, she stared out the window as they drew nearer to the manor, ignoring her mother’s prattling as best as she could. Her heart beat in her chest, and the breath caught in her throat when she finally realised what changes tomorrow would bring. This would be her new home, and his family would be hers.
Closing her eyes, Ellie took a deep breath. Then she opened them again, and a smile spread over her face. Whatever tomorrow would bring, she was ready. A new life awaited her, and she wanted it more than she had ever dared admit to herself.
***
Ellie’s eyes swept the large hall as the butler escorted them to the southern drawing room. Following after her mother and father, she kept a careful eye on her younger siblings, trailing behind them, and yet, her attention was repeatedly drawn to her surroundings. This was her new home! Would she come to feel at home here? Ellie wondered.
When the butler left to announce their arrival to his lordship, Ellie’s mother turned to her husband, a disapproving frown on her face. “Should they not have been out to welcome us at the carriage? After all, we are not mere visitors. Our daughter is the future marchioness. ”
Her father, however, merely humphed as his eyes surveyed the splendour around them, and before long, her parents’ attention settled on more important matters as they voiced the delight they felt at having their daughter marry into such an upstanding family.
“The grounds are larger than I expected,” her father observed, looking out the window. “And everything is in top condition.” A big smile on his face, he turned to his wife. “Quite obviously, they are not in need of the sizable dowry I am able to bestow on my daughter.”
His wife chuckled, her eyes aglow with excitement. “Certainly not.” She gazed about the room. “These furnishings are exquisite.” Shaking her head as though lost in a dream, her mother turned to Ellie. “My dear child, I cannot tell you how glad I am that Lord Haston lost interest. Undoubtedly, it is his loss and our gain.”
Feeling the heat burn in her cheeks at her parents’ open appraisal of her fiancé’s assets, Ellie breathed a sigh of relief when the door opened and the dowager marchioness walked in. A frail woman of medium height, she walked with grace and dignity, her large eyes glowing with kindness.
Ellie liked her instantly.
“Welcome,” she greeted them, a deep smile on her face. “Welcome to Elmridge.” After giving her father and mother a quick nod of the head, she turned to Ellie, her soft eyes gliding over her.
For a moment, Ellie felt uncomfortable under the woman’s searching gaze. However, when their eyes met, Ellie read no pity or disappointment in them, and her muscles relaxed.
The dowager marchioness took both of Ellie’s hands in her own wrinkled ones, and with a deep smile on her face, she looked into her eyes. “My dear child, thank you for coming here. I can-not express how happy I am to see you within these walls.”
Feeling tears threaten, Ellie blinked, savouring the warm welcome she had not expected. “Thank you, my lady. You are most kind.” Looking at the short woman, Ellie felt the strength that rested in her old hands, and she thought to see a flicker of recognition. She had seen this woman before; however, she could not recall where. Maybe Rosabel had been right. Maybe the dowager marchioness had chosen her for a specific reason. Ellie only hoped she would not disappoint her.
“Call me Theresa,” the dowager marchioness whispered and gently squeezed Ellie’s hands. “We are a close−knit family and do not stand on ceremony.”
Too touched to say anything, Ellie nodded.
“Wonderful,” Theresa beamed before an apologetic smile came to her face. “I do hope you can forgive us for not greeting you properly. However, my granddaughter had gotten herself into a rather precarious situation, which required our immediate attention. ” Turning to Ellie’s parents, she added, “I hope you’ve had a safe journey here. Would you care for some refreshments?”
The next half-hour, they spent in the drawing room, exchanging pleasantries and chatting about inconsequential matters while enjoying the Cook’s exquisite lemon cakes. Although Ellie enjoyed herself immensely, she could not help but wonder where her future husband was. Why did he not welcome them? Despite Rosabel’s warning as well as her own knowledge of the situation, she could not help but feel a sting of disappointment.
Patience, she counselled herself. You will have the rest of your life to get to know him.
The rest of the day passed in a pleasant manner. After being shown to their chambers and changing out of their travelling attire, they followed the dowager marchioness into the gardens. Tall-growing hedges formed a labyrinth, hiding shady spots within their midst. Flowers of all shapes and colours bloomed around them, their sweet scent dancing on the soft breeze caressing Ellie’s cheeks. Feeling the warm sun on her skin, Ellie stopped and closed her eyes for a moment, enjoying the sense of peace that washed over her.
When she opened them again, she saw the rest of her family turn around a corner before they were lost from sight.
“What are you doing?” asked a small, inquisitive voice.
Clasping a hand to her chest, Ellie spun around and found herself looking at a young girl, her hair dishevelled and dirt stains decorating her face. “You scared me,” she gasped, exhaling audibly.
“What were you doing?” the girl repeated, eyeing her with a critical gaze.
Once she had regained her composure, Ellie smiled at her. “I was merely enjoying the sun. It feels wonderful, does it not?” The girl shrugged. “What is your name?”
“Mathilda,” the girl said. “What’s yours?”
Ellie was a tad surprised at the girl’s lack of manners. “My name is Elsbeth, but my friends call me Ellie.”
Mathilda’s eyes narrowed. “Can I be your friend?”
“Certainly,” Ellie said. “I’d be delighted to have a friend like you. Tell me, Mathilda, do you know the way back to the manor? I fear I am lost.”
“It is right over there,” Mathilda said, pointing over her shoulder. Then she took Ellie’s hand. “Let me show you.”
Following the young girl, Ellie remembered what the dowager marchioness had told them, which led her to believe that the girl was the former marquess’ daughter. “Your Grandmother said you…eh…had a rather eventful morning.”
Mathilda looked at her appraisingly. “She did?”
Ellie nodded, hoping she had not just betrayed Theresa’s trust.
After a while, Mathilda shrugged. “I climbed up a tree.”
“You did?” Ellie asked in surprise. “I suppose you are not allowed to.”
Mathilda shrugged. “Usually, they don't know.”
“And today?”
Stopping, Mathilda met her eyes, a hint of embarrassment in them. “I couldn’t get down.”
“I see,” Ellie mumbled, slightly awed by the adventurous girl by her side. “What about your dress? Did that happen climbing the tree?” she asked, eyeing a tear in the hem.
The girl eyed her critically. “Will you promise not to tell?”
Hesitating at first, Ellie smiled. “I swear. On my honour as your friend, I will not breathe a word to anyone.”
“Good.” Satisfied, Mathilda nodded. “It got caught on the ladder.”
“The ladder?”
“Yes, the ladder to the hayloft in the stables,” Mathilda elaborated as she led Ellie past the last tall-growing hedge.
Ellie nodded. That would explain the golden straws sticking out of the girl’s chestnut locks, her hair braided down the back. Ellie shook her head.
If this morning represented the norm of Mathilda's activities, then the future would be quite eventful indeed.
“There. See?”
Looking across the courtyard, Ellie spotted the stables in the far back. “What were you doing in the hayloft?”
“Visiting the kittens,” Mathilda said, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “Mother says I am not to go there. It is not lady-like, but Pearl needed me.”
“Pearl?”
“The mama kitty,” Mathilda explained as they climbed the steps to the terrace. “She is taking care of her kittens all day, and no one takes care of her.” She looked up at Ellie, a bright smile on her face. “I bring her milk.”
“That is very sweet of you,” Ellie said, returning the girl’s delighted smile. “I am certain she appreciates your help.”
“She lets me hold her babies,” Mathilda said as they walked up to the terrace door. “I’m the only one who is allowed. Everyone else who comes near gets a nasty scratch.”
Slipping inside, Ellie closed the door behind them and found herself in a beautifully decorated room. A pianoforte stood in the corner, and a large fireplace donned the west wall.
“Are you going to be Uncle Frederick’s wife?” the girl asked, turning around to look at her.
Taken aback, Ellie swallowed. “Well,…yes, I am.”
“Good,” Mathilda nodded, then turned around and led Ellie out of the room and down the corridor. “He needs a wife.”
“He does?” Ellie asked, surprised and yet intrigued. “Why?”
“He is always so sad.”
“Sad?”
Mathilda nodded. “And not sad like Mummy or Grandma,” she explained, guiding Ellie back to the foyer. “He is angry sad. Grandma says he is haunted.” She looked up at Ellie. “Do you believe in ghosts?”
“Well, no, I suppose I don’t,” Ellie answered, not sure what to say. Clearly, with the whole family grieving, the little girl was left to her own devices most of the time, and yet, she had the un-canny ability children often have to absorb the tension around them. Mathilda didn’t know the de-tails, but she knew what was going on.