Fenella Miller (10 page)

Emma tingled all over from the touch of his hand on hers. She had been worrying unnecessarily, he did not think her wanton, his sudden departure had been genuine. "I am delighted to see you, sir, it has seemed very quiet without you here."

His rich baritone and chuckle filled the room. He pulled her arm through his and strolled with her to a group of silk covered chairs and matching sofa. "Please, my dear, be seated. I have something most particular to ask you."

Her heart somersaulted, she could think of only one thing he might have to say that required her to be seated in the drawing-room. He was about to make her an offer, they had known each other only a short while but already she knew what her answer would be. It would be yes, not because he could offer her a life of luxury and comfort, be an excellent father to her children, but because she had fallen irrevocably in love with him. Despite his uncertain temper and disfigurement, he was the most handsome and wonderful man in the world to her.

She was relieved to sit, her legs were trembling with excitement. Her move to the schoolroom, the deference with which the staff were treating her, everything fell neatly into place. They all knew what she had failed to realise, she was to be the new mistress of Stansted Manor.

Sitting, fingers folded to stop them shaking, eyes lowered demurely, she waited expectantly. He dropped beside her on the silk upholstery. Surely this was not the way the proposal should proceed? John had gone down on one knee before her, and he was certainly not of romantical turn of mind.

"Mrs Reed, I have decided it is time that I rejoined society, and I wish you to act as my hostess. Well, what do you think of that? It will mean you must organise yourself a suitable wardrobe, I cannot have you appearing at the head of my table dressed as my housekeeper."

Her head jerked up and she stared at him open mouthed, not sure exactly what he meant. "Mr Bucknall, you are suggesting that…that I assume the role of your wife but remain as your housekeeper." Her hands flew to her mouth. No sooner had the words being spoken than she wished them back. He had not made any improper suggestions, it was she that had. She had not meant to imply anything of that nature, just that it was unseemly for a housekeeper to act as a gentleman's hostess.

His friendly smile changed to an expression of incredulity, then to anger. He surged to his feet. "I am suggesting no such thing, madam, I thought you would be pleased to be given the opportunity to wear fine clothes and mix in society. We both know that you are no servant born, but a gentlewoman obliged to work for a living through no choice of her own. However, I can see that I have made a grave error of judgement, that you have misconstrued my suggestion."

She rose gracefully, biting her lip to keep back her tears. How could she have been so stupid as to think that a man in his position would even consider taking his housekeeper to be his wife? What he had suggested was a kind offer and she had ruined the moment with her foolishness. Unable to speak coherently, she turned and fled from the room not caring any more what he thought of her rudeness.

She was still a few yards from freedom and somehow he was blocking her passage. "My love, I have mishandled this most dreadfully. Please, do not cry, I cannot bear to see you distressed. You mean the world to me, I thought that giving you the opportunity to mix you would find yourself a husband who was worthy of you, a whole man, not someone disfigured like me."

"I want no one else, why would you think that I needed to look elsewhere?"

He gazed down at her, his expression slowly changing from concerned to dawning hope. "Are you telling me, my love, that you return my feelings?"

She nodded unable to believe her dreams were to come true after all.

"I love you, Emma Reed, and want to marry you immediately." He swept her up in his arms and spun round, his face transformed.

Laughing Emma threw her arms around his neck, as much for stability as anything else. "Please, put me down. This is not the way a marriage offer should be received in polite society."

He slid her down his chest, but did not release his hold. "Tarnation take society, I've never cared a fig for it." His smile sent tingles of excitement all over her. "Sweetheart, if you wish me to be conventional in this matter then so be it. I am yours to command."

"Now that's the most outrageous untruth, sir, and you know it. However, I shall overlook your disregard for honesty and seat myself to await your offer."

She settled back on to the sofa beginning to enjoy the role play. She was incandescent with joy; what she had felt for John had been a pale replica of the real thing. More infatuation than true love, that was why the marriage had not been a happy one for either of them.

He schooled his features and clasped his hands to his chest in dramatic fashion. "My dear Mrs Reed, will you do me the…"

"Enough, this will not do at all, sir. You must be on one knee, I shall not listen otherwise."

His expression made her giggle, with extreme reluctance he assumed the required stance. Raised a quizzical eyebrow and resumed his speech. "Will you do me the inestimable honour of becoming my wife?"

From nowhere an imp of mischief prompted her reply. "I thank you for your offer, Mr Bucknall. I shall give it my utmost consideration and let you know my answer by and by."

"Saucy minx. You have already agreed, I shall hold you to that." He sprung to his feet then resumed his place beside her, his face serious. "I should like to be married here, in the chapel, not have banns called in church. Would you object to that?"

"I had no idea there was a private chapel at Stansted. As long as we are married in the sight of God by on ordained minister I care not where it is. However, although I have no objection to being married immediately, I do need time to gather a trousseau."

"I believe that there's an excellent seamstress in the next village. Send for her, use the materials upstairs. I should love to see you in the gold silk."

It was a considerable time later that all the plans were in hand. Rupert, for that is how she must address him now, insisted that she move downstairs and take a suite of rooms on the first floor. Jack and Mary could remain in the nursery with Tilly. An advertisement for a suitable governess was to be placed immediately in The Times, and the staff to be told of her forthcoming nuptials.

"And, my love, I wish to see no more of those hideous caps hiding your glorious hair." His eyes darkened and he gathered her close. "I cannot wait to see it loose about your shoulders, run my fingers through its silky tresses." He lifted her until her mouth was on a level with his and then kissed her lovingly. With a sigh of regret he put it down and stepped away. "I have deep pockets, my darling Emma. Although, as you quite rightly pointed out, I am not a biddable man, every- thing I have is yours. I shall not stint you or the children in any way."

She touched his gloved hand. "I should like to write to my father and tell him where I am and that I intend to marry again. We have been estranged too long, he does not even know he has grandchildren, perhaps this time he will be more approving of my choice."

"Do that, I shall not go to London for the special licence until next week, then I can combine it with the arrival of my fleet from India."

* * * *

The days sped past in a blur of happiness and excitement. Even Mary lost her reservations about Rupert, and it was a pleasure to see them interacting together. Jack, of course, was overjoyed he was to have a new papa. The seamstress proved as excellent as her reputation; she had brought with her three girls to assist in the making of gowns in fabulous colours and materials. There were to be many Emma feared she would never have the opportunity to wear them all. Both children were also measured and new garments made for them.

The chapel, which had been disgracefully neglected these past three years, was scrubbed clean and made ready for the marriage ceremony. The rector was delighted to officiate, and appeared genuinely pleased that Rupert had found happiness after so much grief.

Rupert decided to ride to Town, William was to accompany him with the baggage horse. He was not expected to be gone more than three days, when he returned they would be married. She was a skittish as a kitten; although a mature and experienced woman, she could have been no more excited than if she was embarking on her first relationship. This is what it felt like; she had found her soul mate and believed that he had found his.

In the nursery early the following morning Jack said he had something important to ask her. "What is it, my dear? You know you can tell me anything that's troubling you."

"Will my new papa shout at me when I am disobedient?"

Shocked she dropped down to her knees beside him. "Why should you ask that, Jack? Hasn't he always been kind to you?"

Tears trickled down his cheeks and he shook his head. "He shouted at me, he was so angry I fell in the lake."

Mary overheard this comment. "Serves you right. And anyway he fished you out again, didn't he?"

Emma's emotions were in turmoil. Had she made a dreadful error agreeing to marry a man with an uncertain temper? She must speak to him immediately, get his promise he would not treat her children roughly, not raise a hand to them in anger.

"Mary, take Jack in the garden, I shall send Tilly down to join you later." The children left and she could hear Jack talking loudly about the accident, it would be all over the house in no time. It was imperative that she spoke to Rupert, heard what had happened from him.

She recalled how William had said his master was tetchy after the accident—this must have been the cause. A guilty conscience would have made him cross. Did she know this man well enough to spend the rest of her life with him? She had made a mistake once, rushed into something too impulsively…perhaps this was a good reason to slow things down?

Not waiting a moment longer she gathered her skirts and ran through the house, seriously startling two footmen hanging a painting in the corridor. She knocked on Rupert's sitting-room door praying he was still there, that she was in time to speak to him.

The door pushed opened beneath her fingers. She was too late, he had already gone. She must speak to Tilly about this, Jack might have said more about the incident to her. Was this a good idea? Talking to the servants about such matters would surely be inappropriate? If only Rupert had told her at the time.

Undecided as to what to do next, she was hesitating on the landing when Foster puffed up the stairs waving a letter.

"This has come by express, Mrs Reed. It is addressed to yourself."

Snapping the wax seal open she read the contents with growing dismay. "Mr Foster, have the carriage made ready, I must leave immediately."

Papa was on his deathbed, wished her to return to her family home at once so that they could be reconciled before he died. She could hardly refuse, it was her duty. On her return to her apartment she called for Tilly. "Quickly, pack a trunk for the children. We must go to Essex at once. Send word downstairs at the children to come back immediately and get ready."

The girl who acted as her abigail was efficient and soon had a trunk packed and ready to be transported downstairs. In the interim Emma wrote a quick note to Rupert explaining where she was and asking him to join her as soon as he could. She then placed it in a prominent position on the desk in his study where he would see it immediately. With a heavy heart she climbed into the carriage and sank on to the smart, navy leather squabs.

Even Jack was subdued, content to stare out of the window and enjoy the novelty of travelling in a private vehicle for the first time in his life. "Tilly, we should be at our destination this afternoon. Cook has prepared us a delicious picnic hamper, we shall stop somewhere suitable to eat."

As the comfortable coach trundled on she had ample opportunity to consider the implications. If her father was indeed about to meet his maker she would be obligated to go into deep mourning for at least six months. All thoughts of marriage must be put to one side until that period of time had elapsed. How could she endure the wait? At least this enforced separation had settled the doubts she might have had about the marriage. She loved and trusted Rupert, what had transpired at the lake had been an accident, she would not hold it against him.

* * * *

Rupert thundered up the drive, the marriage licence and betrothal rings were burning a hole in his waistcoat pocket. He expected to be greeted by the children, Jack especially, but there was no sign of them. He vaulted from his horse and tossed the reins to William.

"Take him round to the stable, join me as soon as you may, there are things we need to put in motion for tomorrow."

The front door open as he reached the bottom of the marble steps. It was his man of affairs. "Thank God you are here, sir, the house is in uproar. Mr Foster was found dead in bed this morning and neither the housekeeper nor senior footman seem capable of dealing with the matter."

"Why does Mrs Reed not manage things?" Tavistock shuffled and looked away. "What is it, man?"

"Mrs Reed left here three days ago, the same morning that you did. Nobody appears to know where she's gone or why she went."

Rupert could not deal with this information now, there would be a simple explanation when he had time to discover it. He must take command of his household. "Has Dr Andrews been sent for? What about the undertaker?"

His man of affairs had only just arrived himself and had yet to ascertain this information. Rupert examined the body, rigor mortis had already set in, the old man had been dead for some time. He was sad to see him go, but Foster had lived a decade more than his allotted time.

"As no one has thought to lay him out in his best outfit, this will have to be done tomorrow." He turned to Tavistock who was hovering behind him. "I shall leave this matter to you, do whatever is necessary. The funeral can be in the chapel and he can be buried in the family graveyard. I do not wish to be disturbed."

There must be a letter waiting for him, Emma would not have left without explaining her reasons. There was nothing in the study, nothing in his apartment or hers. Taking the stairs two at a time he arrived in the nursery to find it deserted, he checked the bed chambers and the nursemaid's room, the beds had not been slept in.