Sarah Mallory

Pride in Regency Society


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      ‘Evelina—Eve, from our discussions this afternoon you know I have not led a blameless life, but I told you that will change when I take a wife. I have a comfortable income and two estates in the north. I can afford to give you a Season in town every year, should you wish it. You will have your own carriage and we could buy a property nearer Makerham, closer to your grandfather, if that is what you want.’

      ‘Captain Wylder, this is too soon!’

      He put a finger against her lips. ‘Perhaps, but I do everything in a hurry, my dear; as soon as I saw you I knew that I wanted to wed you.’ He saw the confusion in her face and stopped. He drew away a little, took a breath and said gently, ‘You need not answer immediately. I merely want you to understand what I am offering you.’

      There was a slight shadow in her eyes as she looked up at him. ‘That is all very well, Captain, but I do not understand what I can offer you.’

      He hesitated, then said lightly, ‘I believe that you bring with you your mother’s property at Monkhurst.’

      She laughed. ‘A rundown house on the edge of Romney Marsh! I love it, and spent some happy times there as a child, but no one has lived there since Mama and Papa died. It is a poor dowry, Captain Wylder. I fear I will get the best of this bargain, sir!’

      His spirit soared. She was almost his, he could read it in her eyes. A dizzying happiness shook him. He ran his hands down her arms and caught her fingers.

      ‘No, Eve, I think I will have a great deal more than I bargained for!’

      Eve stared at the dark head bent over her hands. This could not be happening to her; when she was at school she had read novels of handsome knights carrying off damsels in distress, but that was fantasy. Besides, she was not in distress. Or was she? She was twenty-four years old and she had never found anyone she would like to marry, nor was she likely to meet anyone while she lived in such seclusion. Her grandfather was much weaker than he had been even a few months ago. If he should die while she was still unmarried, then what would become of her? The vision of her cousin filled her mind. She had never liked Bernard, sensing in his nature a cruel streak that made her a little afraid of him. And now here was this handsome, dashing sea captain offering her his hand and he came with her grandfather’s blessing. There really was no choice.

      Eve realised Nick was looking at her with a steady, unsettling gaze. She needed to say something. ‘How soon do you wish to be married, Captain Wylder?’

      Goodness, how matter of fact she sounded.

      ‘By the end of the month.’

      ‘The end of the—!’

      ‘Why, yes, I see no reason to rush into this with a special licence. We have time for the banns to be read in church. We shall be married here, of course. I have no doubt that is what you would like—’

      ‘But I haven’t agreed to it yet!’

      With a laugh he pulled her into his arms. ‘No, but you will.’

      He was grinning down at her. Eve found it difficult to concentrate, her thoughts seemed to centre on the dimple in his left cheek.

      ‘Wh-what will Grandpapa say to such a hasty marriage?’

      ‘Oh I think he will agree.’ He kissed her, a sizzling, burning kiss that sent shockwaves tingling right down to her toes. ‘What say you, Eve, will you be my wife?’

      ‘But—’ She tried to collect her wayward thoughts. ‘We have only just met!’

      ‘And we have more than three weeks until the wedding to get to know one another.’ He kissed her again. ‘Well?’

      She struggled out of his arms. ‘No, no. It is out of the question,’ she said crossly. ‘You appear out of nowhere, big and brash and—and totally overwhelming, and you expect me to agree to be your wife! No, sir, I will not do it!’

      He dropped to his knees before her, throwing his arms wide. ‘Evelina, don’t you want to marry me?’

      She clapped her hands over her mouth to stifle a giggle. ‘Get up, sir, before someone sees you!’

      ‘Not until you answer my question.’

      Evelina stared at him. His blue eyes twinkled and that irrepressible dimple cut into his cheek. Heavens, was the man never serious?

      ‘Well, Evelina; will you give me your answer?’

      A stillness settled over the garden. The birds were silent, not a breath of wind stirred the bushes; the whole world was hushed, waiting for her reply. Suddenly she knew that there was nothing she wanted more than to be married to Nick Wylder.

      ‘Very well,’ she said quietly. ‘I will marry you.’

       Chapter Three

      ‘Oh heavens, what have I done?’

      Evelina paced about her bedroom, her clasped hands pressed to her mouth. The arrival at Makerham of a prospective husband should not have come as a surprise, her grandfather had told her often that he would find her a suitor and she had told him that she would abide by his judgement. But she had not expected that gentleman to be so dazzlingly attractive as Captain Wylder, nor had she foreseen that he would propose to her upon such short acquaintance. Even more extraordinary was the fact that she had accepted him!

      Eve paused by the window. The last remnants of daylight had disappeared and the glass reflected her image like a dark mirror. She had always considered herself a sensible, level-headed young woman, so what madness had possessed her, standing in the garden with the heady scent of summer roses in the air, to accept his proposal?

      ‘No, no, it will not do,’ she said aloud, resuming her perambulations. ‘Tomorrow I must tell him I have changed my mind—not changed my mind,’ she amended. ‘Merely that I want a little more time to think over his proposal.’

      She climbed into bed and snuffed out her candle, satisfied that she had resolved upon a very sensible course of action.

      ‘Hell and damnation we’re in the suds now.’ Nick shrugged himself out of his coat and tossed it to his valet. ‘I had not planned this, Richard!’

      ‘I thought the whole point of coming here was to propose to the young lady,’ murmured Granby, folding the coat and laying it tenderly over a chair.

      ‘Yes, of course, but I behaved like a veritable mooncalf!’

      ‘But I understand Miss Shawcross has accepted your offer, Captain.’

      ‘Aye, she has.’ Nick slumped down into a chair and gave a heavy sigh.

      ‘Then I wish you happy, sir.’

      ‘Damn your impudence! This wasn’t meant to happen—or only as a last resort.’ A wry smile tugged at one side of his mouth. ‘The truth of it is she’s bowled me over, Dick. She floored me with the very first glance from those great brown eyes and I haven’t recovered since.’

      ‘Her maid tells me Miss Shawcross is a very accomplished young lady.’

      ‘Aye, so she is. The wonder is that she wasn’t snapped up years ago.’

      ‘Martha—that’s her maid, Captain—Martha says that she’s lived here very quietly since she finished her schooling. Sir Benjamin’s health being so poor they have never been in the habit of entertaining.’

      Nick gave a short laugh. ‘So she’s been waiting here all these years, like a Sleeping Beauty! But the devil of it is I’m no Prince Charming.’

      A ghost of a smile flitted across Richard Granby’s impassive features. ‘If you’ll pardon me, sir, I think there’s plenty of ladies would disagree with you there.’

      Nick waved his hand impatiently.