CHAPTER ONE
The Solution to All
our Problems
“Let us not be coy,
My Lord,” Lord Christopher said as he took the pewter goblet offered by his
host. “Let us not pretend the whole county is ignorant of your circumstances.
Pride is something you can ill afford.”
He sipped the wine
and grimaced. It was diluted, hopefully with fresh water from the spring and
not the muddied waters of the river. He placed the goblet down on the little
table beside him, could not help but notice the film of dust on its surface.
Did the man have no servants left? Apparently not.
“You are just
ill-mannered enough to mention it,” Lord Sutton replied angrily.
“Manners are
somewhat redundant at this point, do you not think? You are heavily in debt and
gambling debts at that, the very worst kind. You will go to debtor’s prison or
be in debt bondage to the vilest kind of men. Is that really what you want?”
Lord Sutton turned
away to hide his embarrassment. It was true what his visitor was saying and he
saw no way out. He had been a fool, a reckless, thoughtless fool who had lost
everything, even his daughter’s dowry, and here was this powerful and wealthy
man offering a solution. Had he really sunk low enough to accept?
“You know your
reputation, My Lord,” Lord Sutton argued. “The things I have heard about you
would give a decent man nightmares, yet here you sit, offering to make my
daughter your countess. How can I do that for my benefit? How can I condemn her
to a life with a man like you only to get myself out of the mess I have made?”
Lord Christopher’s
expression did not change. His host expected him to be insulted; he should have
been insulted, any normal man would, but Lord Sutton’s words passed over him
without affect.
Christopher knew
full well what his reputation was, he knew that people feared him, even his
peers would rather not have to deal with him, and Lord Sutton’s reception of
his offer came as no surprise.
He knew the man
held his daughter in high regard and wanted the best for her, but he could no
longer afford to provide that best and it was clear that an offer of assistance
from Christopher only served to make him feel even more ashamed of his own
folly.
“But it will not be
for your sake alone, My Lord,” Christopher said. “What is to become of Lady
Felice when you are condemned to prison, when this estate is sold to pay some
of your debts? Would you have her live among the peasants, find work as a
washerwoman or a servant of some kind? A lady in her own right? You would
condemn her to that just to save face?”
“It is not to save
face!” Lord Sutton shouted. “What sort of life will she have with you? You
buried your late wife and your child in a pauper’s grave. Can you offer an
explanation for that?”
Lord Christopher
eyed him thoughtfully. He was not given to explaining himself or his actions to
anyone, but in this case, he felt the man deserved it, if only to give him the
peace of mind he would need to accept his own salvation.
“I can,” he said at
last. “It was not my child.”
Lord Sutton caught
his breath. He was not expecting that. He could not imagine what sort of woman
would betray a man like this; she was either very brave or very foolish.
“She was untrue to
you?” He asked hesitantly.
Lord Christopher
nodded, his expression unchanging. Did the man have no feelings at all that he
could speak of this without a sign of regret?
“I would be glad if
you would keep it to yourself. I prefer not to share my private life with
anyone else and I hate gossip.”
Ah, yes. He has a special device for gossips,
Lord Sutton thought.
“How do I know you
will not hurt her?”
Lord Christopher
sighed deeply. It should not be so difficult to persuade someone to accept his
money. The man must really love this daughter, a concept Christopher could
hardly fathom. He did not trust women, any women, and he was sure if he ever
had a daughter he would feel no differently about her.
“I believe you can
trust my word, My Lord,” he said. “I will not hurt her. I give you my word. I
can be harsh and ruthless, but I am not given to attacking defenceless women. I
do demand loyalty from all my people, and that would include my wife. I see
nothing unreasonable about that.”
“Nor I. However, I
am still concerned as to why you want my daughter.”
“I saw her at Lord
Eversley’s recent marriage celebration. I thought her a beautiful woman who
would make me a good wife.” If such a
thing exists. “At the time she was betrothed to Viscount Lindsay so I kept
my thoughts to myself. Now I can voice them with honour.”
“Viscount Thomas’
father broke the agreement because my daughter has no dowry. What say you on
that score?”
“Only that I have
no need of her dowry. I shall provide enough for you to settle a new dowry on
her if that is your wish. It will be hers alone for her security, but I will
marry her without. It makes no difference to me.”
“I shall have to
think on it.”
“I will leave you to
do so,” Christopher said. “But do not think for too long. Your creditors will
not wait forever and the sooner I have a favourable answer, the sooner I can
give them my promise to settle your debts on my marriage.”
He got to his feet,
his towering height making Lord Sutton feel insignificant in comparison. The
man was a giant among other men, in stature at least, and his piercing blue
eyes were always icy cold. He scared Lord Sutton; how would Felice feel about
him? No, he could not do it, but he did not voice the thought.
“I will ask her,”
he told his visitor.
Lord Christopher
raised an enquiring eyebrow but made no reply. He picked up his riding crop and
left the house.
***
Watching Lord
Christopher leave the house from her bedchamber, Lady Felice felt what could
only be called panic and her heart sank with despair. More trouble? She had not
had a night’s sleep in weeks, not since she learned of her father’s debts, not
since she found out why the dressmaker refused to come when last she sent for
her. Why did he not tell her? And now Lord Christopher had come calling, which
could only mean that her foolish father owed him money as well. He seemed to
her to be the very last person anyone would want to make an enemy of.
She waited until he
rode away, his blonde hair shining in the sunlight. It curled under just below
his ears, like the pictures of all those old kings she had seen in various
manuscripts.
Felice was a very
fortunate maid in that her father had educated her the same as he would have a
son. So she could read and write and possibly teach the children of other noble
families. That would bring even more disgrace upon Lord Sutton, but it could
not be helped; if she had to work, she would do so.
She had lain awake
all night wondering if there was something she could do to earn a living. She
would never make enough money to help her father, but she might at least be
able to provide some service for which she could get bed and board, perhaps
even a little money.
She descended the
stairs slowly, looking about at the accumulated dust in the great hall. The
servants had all left; Lord Sutton found them all positions in other houses and
there was but one loyal one left. She could hardly do everything herself.
“What was he doing
here?” She asked as she reached the bottom of the stairs. “Please tell me you do
not owe him money as well? He surely will not hesitate to take this house and
turn us out.”
He turned and
forced a smile, offered her some of the diluted wine since that was all they
had. There were no cows left even to provide milk, much less ale left in the
barrels. Were it not for the fresh spring which ran through the grounds, they
would likely die of thirst.
Felice shook her
head. She did not want diluted wine; she wanted an answer.
“Well?” She
demanded.
“On the contrary,
my dear,” Lord Sutton replied. “Far from wanting to turn us out, His Lordship
wants to rescue us.”
“What?”
Generosity was not
something she expected to be one of that man’s traits.
“Lord Christopher
has offered to settle all my debts and to provide me enough to restore the
estate to its former glory. It will begin to produce an income again and I can
pretend to be the all important Lord of the Manor who did not lose everything
and almost get himself and his daughter thrown out into the street. Is that not
a generous offer?”
“But father, why?
What can he possibly want in return for such a gift?”
“He wants you,”
Lord Sutton replied. “He wants to marry you and in return he will save me. I
hate to admit that he will be saving us both, but as he did not hesitate to
point out, what will become of you if I refuse?”
Felice’s legs
seemed to dissolve beneath her and she sank down abruptly into the chair behind
her. Lord Christopher wanted to marry her? Lord Christopher who never said a
kind word to anyone if he could avoid it, who never smiled much less laughed,
who terrified every tenant and servant for miles around. Lord Christopher who
had locked a metal cage on the head of a peasant for breaking her friend’s
trust and revealing her secret to him. Lord Christopher who had buried his late
wife and child in a pauper’s grave with nothing to mark their passing but a
rough, wooden cross.
“It seems the man
is much wealthier than even I imagined,” Lord Sutton was saying.
“Why? Why does he
want to marry me?”
Her father
shrugged.
“I wish I knew. All
he would say was that he saw you at Lord Eversley’s marriage celebrations and took
a fancy to you, thought you would make him a good wife.”
Now her mind was
busy. She pushed the fact of the man himself away and thought about the things
he could provide, things like food and drink, things like freedom from sleepless
nights and worry, things like a new start for her father.
“What was your
answer?” She asked at last.
“I said I would consult
you. I will not force you into a marriage with this man, Felice, no matter what
the cost. I love you far too much for that. You are a sensible girl; the
decision must be yours.”
“Yes,” she said
without further thought. “Yes, I will marry him, and I will make him a good
wife. He will restore your dignity.”
“You must not do
this for my sake, Felice.”
“I do it for us
both. I am tired of the worry, tired of the humiliation and tired of wondering
if we will eat tomorrow. I will marry him.”
“Are you quite
sure? If he hurts you I shall die of shame for having allowed it.”
She reached out a
hand which he took in his own and sat beside her.
“Father, I have
heard that he is a fair man. Why should he hurt me without reason? And I shall
most certainly never give him a reason. He must have a generous nature to be
offering so much; perhaps his fearsome reputation is only rumour.”
“It is tempting to
be sure.”
“It is. Please,
Father. I want to marry him. He is the solution to all our problems and I know
I can make him happy.”
“That will take a
miracle, I fear,” Lord Sutton said cynically. “And they do not happen often.”
No comments:
Post a Comment