Finagled (4 page)

She languished in bed for days.

Her mother was so delighted, a Duke for a son in- law, it hardly seemed possible, and yet, while Ramona languished in bed, the betrothal was officially announced, the Duke came and spoke to Lord and Lady Havishamble several times, and while it seemed strange that he never asked to see Ramona, they were too delighted to care.

Ramona had no idea. She began making doilies and asked her mother if she might keep a kitten for company. How could the girl be so simple? She was about to make a pact that would give her more company than she had ever had in her life, a robust husband and the babies that were sure to follow, and here she was, acting like she was recently widowed.

Their conversations were confusing to both parties. Ramona ignored any mention of her upcoming wedded bliss, and her family seemed not to hear her late night crying or sudden exclamations of "ruined!"

When the Duke of Blusterfuss finally asked to see the young girl, she exclaimed, "How can I? Oh no, ruinous, ruinous!" and hid under her bedcovers.

"She’s feeling suddenly shy," Lady Havishamble explained. "It is going to be such a change for her, and she is so innocent."

George Flanders bit his tongue. Innocent indeed, the manipulative little pixie! She had made this happen and was now too afraid to face up to it. He would marry her, he would attempt to make her comfortable, but he had no intention of living as man and wife in anything but name. She had been such a charming girl, too charming, he had not even realized he was being played.

And now, having to make plans for a wedding, something he had vowed never to do. Such a manipulative little pixie! At least she would be pleasant to look at over the dinner table.

He grumbled.

He saw no point in delaying his time in town for this situation, and said, through his teeth, that he was anxious to get his young bride home to his estate, Loathewood, in Y___. He was slightly surprised by the rather agreeable dowry the girl brought. He had expected this to be an act of poverty on her and her family's part, but it seemed they were quite comfortably living within their means, and those means accounted for a nice wedding trousseau and an amount of spending money for Ramona to receive monthly. In the very least he would not have to worry too much about her ruining him financially, unless she found the sum too little to support her baubles and gowns. He was willing to supplement it somewhat. He had no intention of torturing the girl, though his immediate reaction to her tricking him into this situation was to let her rot with her reputation. Something bred deep inside of him would not let him do it. He felt a little angry with himself. He undoubtedly had been more encouraging to this young woman than the many who had tried to finagle him into marriage previously. But she had seemed so disinterested. He was even more angry with himself for giving in to her pretty display of tears and kissing her as he had, indeed, as he had thought of doing several times before that night, when he had thanked the heavens that Tirinia was always there, watching like a hawk, like a good chaperone, indeed!

The pin in her shoe, surely a device! The way she leaned into him, a seduction! How had he misjudged her so?

He continued to grumble.

The marriage was set to take place, and the bride had shown little interest until a dressmaker was brought.

"You can't be serious!" she exclaimed, looking at her mother.

"You can't be married in anything you already own, my dear, do be practical."

"I can't be married at all, I'm ruined!"

Deftly her mother avoided this strange insistence Ramona had determined to take. Ruined indeed!

"If I am to be married, where is the bridegroom. I would speak to him."

"He has called for you once a week these past three weeks!" her mother exclaimed, "you would not see him!"

"Clearly I was delirious." Ramona said, in a small voice, "I have felt feverish,"

"You would not have me call for the doctor, though I suspected something was amiss, you probably need to be bled, oh I am derelict in my duties as a mother!"

"Oh pish posh." Ramona said, laying a comforting hand upon her mother's shoulder, "you only did what I asked you to do. Now send for... for the groom. This has gone on long enough."

"Thank goodness!" Lady Havishamble said, misinterpreting Ramona completely.

Ramona sat silently, seeing her surroundings for the first time in weeks through eyes puffy from tears, the veil of which had finally been lifted.

The tiniest part of her thrilled. The Duke of Blusterfuss was an honorable man, surely he saw how unsuitable she was, but he did not wish to see her ruined. She wondered if he thought her duplicitous and felt a pang. He must, how could he guess that it was Tirinia and not herself who had arranged this situation, this terrible situation. He would not be taking this plunge but for her honor, so he must have something of respect for her left in him. But oh! How she would have liked the idea... it was silly, the very idea that he might marry her on her own merits, for some feeling beating within his chest, and not this, finagled into it by an interfering old woman. Could he ever trust Ramona?

Finally owning up to her actions! George received the card with a surge of emotion. He had been prepared to speak to her three weeks prior, the delay had muddled his thoughts. Where he had immediately been angered, he was now unsure. Why would she deny him entrance if she were fully responsible for her actions? He would remain guarded.

Announced and standing before her. Ramona looked a wreck. Her hair was tightly knotted, not with care, with haste, her dress simple and somewhat rumpled, her eyes red rimmed and her nose raw. Had she been crying over him or herself,? He could not know.

George looked calm. No hair out of place, just as dark and incredible as she remembered him. He was not losing sleep or wasting thoughts on her account. What was she to him? An embarrassment, an unsuitable little ninny of a bride, who finagled her way into his arms, oh the agony!

Her voice was tiny when she finally spoke, "I think there has been a misunderstanding," she said, "Please, feel no need to sully your good name with mine, it was a mistake, I am so sorry."

This was not what he expected, "It is too late for that. I have ordered the plate for goodness sake," he said, searching her little face for some sign of current feeling, not the scars of feelings past.

"Why are you making excuses? I am letting you go," she whispered.

"I..." why was he making excuses? "You would not recover from the scandal," he said.

"It does not matter. There is no need for both of us to be in this unhappy situation. If I could lessen your discomfort, I would do so."

He found himself on his knees at her side, "It was not your mistake that I kissed you, that was my own,"

"It was a mistake, though, and one with consequences, furthermore, I most definitely made the mistake of reciprocating it."

"Bah!" he said, "Did you... reciprocate out of feeling?" he inquired.

"Feeling, oh so much feeling, I have done nothing but feel for weeks, and I am sick of it." she replied.

"Did you finagle me out of love, or greed, or pride?" his voice, suddenly stern, "and how do you do it now, for I feel it, finagled grievously."

"I did not, if I'm doing it now, well, it is some selfishness, some small part of me that would like to spend her life with you, by your side, but it is not a conscious finagling on my part. I would that none of this had ever happened."

"Then how? Surely it was not an accident, your falling into my arms like that?"

"On my part, it was, very much so. I fear... in fact,
I know
it was my Aunt Tirinia Shoobukkle who has done this to us. She had some misguided idea... it is all very nonsensical, but it has worked to an extent in the way that she intended. She has spent many hours trying to convince me that this was right, but I can't believe that a plot of deception is the place to grow a fertile marriage. If I could have won your heart by my own talents... perhaps I would then deserve it, but like this? I feel false, small and horrible. It was never my intent to inconvenience you."

"
Inconvenience me
?" he looked at her earnest little face. "Gads, woman..."

"I can hardly stand for you to look at me, just go, leave me here and we will never speak again. It would be so easy for you. You need not think of my turmoil. I am sure I can find some happiness, perhaps as companion to my aunt."

"Easy for me? You have no idea what this has been for me, little girl, easy it would not be."

She looked up in surprise, "Well... I cannot make this decision for you."

"Could you be happy with me?" he asked, slowly, quietly.

"I imagine so, as happy at least as with my aunt, but then, probably happier." she replied.

"No. You do not understand what I would be asking of you..."

"If it is my reaction to marital congress that worries you, you need not fear, my aunt has detailed to me of the pains and pleasures it will lead to, and I am prepared."

"Marital congress, you little minx! That’s just the thing..." he furrowed his dark brow.

"So you were worried about my maidenhead, please, concern yourself no further... But other things... my name is sure to be a blot on your family tree, and any children I could give you, would they be worthy of your exalted name?"

"Children. Yes, I imagine they would, but... we cannot. I should tell you from the first, I have no intention of keeping you as a wife ought to be kept."

"I have no idea what you're saying, Duke, but the look of agony upon your face hurts my heart."

"As it should, to consign a lovely young bride as yourself to my musty old estate and leave her there without the pleasures of motherhood to keep her occupied." He shook his head.

"Does your seed not sprout?" she asked, putting her hand upon his, "Well surely you have never tried within the sanctity of marriage! We may overcome this obstacle yet."

"No, no, my seed is undoubtedly fine..."

"Then it is my station, you abhor the thought of breeding with me!" she cried out.

"No! I just... I made a promise, once. I shall have no children, bring none into this terrible world."

Ramona felt an ache in her stomach, her heart, and  a shortness of breath. Just what was he asking her to forsake? To have a husband, but no family, or to lose her reputation, to have no husband, no family but that from which she had come... who she would have in either case.

Both choices sounded sad and lonely to her, unfair, she had done nothing to deserve it. And yet, as the wife of the Duke of Blusterfuss, perhaps she could find other pleasures, the duties that would fall to her as mistress of a large estate, she would likely find that she had no time to even think of the lack of children.  Was the Duke of Blusterfuss the lesser of two evils, or finagled as they both were, was it a greater sin to give in to this finaglement?

"I cannot think," she said, softly, "for I never imagined, from my girlhood, such a situation. My fantasies were bright, happinesses more assured..."

"You see what I ask of you. I came here soon after the engagement had been announced to lay it all before you, but I thought then... well, I thought ill of you, I was sure of your involvement in the finagling of this situation..."

"Of course. I so feared that you would think me a terrible person, so much so that I began to think it of myself. I feel so awful about all of this, so very awful.”

"You must not. We
have
made mistakes, the both of us, but the real blame lies with your Aunt Shoobukkle. A woman of her maturity... she should have known better than to play with the heart of her young niece. But then, how could she know my situation... I expect there could have been something rather romantic about it, if I were someone other than myself."