“Help me. Isham is sure to be on time….”

India was right. They had not long to wait. As the clock struck four, Lord Isham was announced and shown into the parlor.

As he bowed to her mother, India stole a critical look at him. His manner was correct, his bow perfection, but his presence shattered the genteel atmosphere in the room.

India glanced down at her hands and found that they were trembling. She had summoned all her courage for the coming interview, but it was deserting her fast. Now she longed only to get it over with.

It seemed an age before her mother rose.

“Will you excuse me, sir?” she said. “India would like to speak to you.”

Isham merely bowed and held the door. As it closed he turned and leaned against it. For a panic-stricken moment India felt trapped. She was forced to suffer his long, assessing stare.

“So you are to be the sacrificial lamb?” his lordship drawled at last. “What a fate, my dear!”

The Reluctant Bride

Meg Alexander

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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MEG ALEXANDER

After living in southern Spain for many years, Meg Alexander now lives in Kent, although, having been born in Lancashire, she feels that her roots are in the north of England. Meg’s career has encompassed a wide variety of roles, from professional cook to assistant director of a conference center. She has always been a voracious reader, and loves to write. Other loves include history, cats, gardening, cooking and travel. She has a son and two grandchildren.

Other books in THE STEEPWOOD SCANDAL series:

Lord Ravensden’s Marriage, by Anne Herries

An Innocent Miss, by Elizabeth Bailey

The Reluctant Bride, by Meg Alexander

A Companion of Quality, by Nicola Cornick

A Most Improper Proposal, by Gail Whitiker

A Noble Man, by Anne Ashley

An Unreasonable Match, by Sylvia Andrew

An Unconventional Duenna, by Paula Marshall

Counterfeit Earl, by Anne Herries

The Captain’s Return, by Elizabeth Bailey

The Guardian’s Dilemma, by Gail Whitiker

Lord Exmouth’s Intentions, by Anne Ashley

Mr. Rushford’s Honour, by Meg Alexander

An Unlikely Suitor, by Nicola Cornick

An Inescapable Match, by Sylvia Andrew

The Missing Marchioness, by Paula Marshall

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter One

1811

The elder of the two ladies seated by the fireside in the tiny cottage was visibly distressed. Tears fell unheeded down her cheeks as she looked up at her brother-in-law.

“Tell me it isn’t true!” she pleaded. “Must Isham take everything? Oh, please, not my dowry too and the portions for the girls?”

Sir James Perceval hesitated, hating the task ahead of him, yet knowing that it must be done.

“There is no help for it,” he said at last. “Isabel, my dear, it is better that you face the worst. I tried to save what little I could, but the debt is too great. When I said that everything was gone I meant not only the house, your carriage, and the horses…”

“I don’t care about those,” Mrs Rushford cried, waving aside the comforts which had sustained her for a lifetime. “But my girls! I had such hopes for them. Who will take them now, and how are we to live?”

She reached out a hand to the silent figure of her daughter. “India, we are destitute…quite ruined!” Then, to the horror of her companions, she burst into hysterical laughter.

India rose to her feet and rang the bell. Then she took her mother’s hands and began to speak in a low voice.

“Mama, you are very tired. Let me take you to your room. Martha shall bathe your head with Hungary water, and make a hot brick for your feet. Uncle and I will see to matters here. There may be something we can do…”

Slipping an arm about her mother’s waist, she supported her distraught parent from the room.

It was some time before she returned, much to Sir James’s concern, but India was quick to reassure him.

“Mama is resting,” she said quietly. “But I have sent Letty for the doctor. A sedative will give her some respite. It was the shock, you see, coming on top of all she has had to bear just recently.”

“I would have spared her if I could, my dear, but it wasn’t possible. This is a bad business, and I am sorry that she has taken it so hard…”

India nodded. “I’m afraid that the news about her dowry was the last straw. These last four months since Father’s death have been a nightmare. And then, you know, she had such plans for us.”

“I know it, my dear child. God knows I tried at least to save your own portions, but the debt was too great. Your father’s vowels committed him to the hilt, and a debt of honour must be paid.”

“Honour?” India cried harshly. “Forgive me, Uncle, but I see no honour in any of this. Isham must have known that Father could not pay such sums. He is a cur. If I were a man I’d call him out myself.”

Sir James’s face grew stern. “You don’t understand, I fear. If a man sits at the tables his companions do not question his finances. It is taken for granted that he will be able to meet his obligations. To do otherwise would be fraud.”

India was silent. In her heart she knew that Lord Isham was not solely to blame for the disaster that had overtaken them. For the first time in her life she was beginning to realise that her adored papa, for all his charm and gaiety, lacked any sense of responsibility for his family. To face the truth squarely, as she must now do, he had gambled away not only the roof above their heads but monies which he might have considered were not his to spend.

The law would not agree with her. She knew that well enough. Where her own property was concerned a wife had no rights. Her husband might dispose of it as he willed. But how could Papa have left them destitute? Something of her despair must have shown in her face, and her uncle saw it.

“I wish I could make you understand,” he said more gently. “Tailors, grocers, even builders may be left to whistle for prompt settlement of their accounts, but gambling debts must be paid at once.”

“Very well then,” India told him stiffly. “He shall be paid, and much good may the money do him. He, above any man in London, is in no need of it…”

“That’s not the point, my love. Try not to be bitter. His lordship has been accommodating. He gave you three months’ grace in your old home when he might have turned you out at once.”

“That was kind of him!” India would not be placated. “He must have been waiting with impatience to take possession of the Grange. After all, a hovel would be an amusing change from one of his so-called palaces.”

“Your home was scarcely that, India.” Sir James looked about him sadly. “Now this, I fear…”

India was at once contrite. “Uncle, I am a wretch! Pray do not think we are ungrateful to you for giving us this place. We shall be happy here…” Her voice wavered a little but she pressed on resolutely. “I have such plans for the garden. We shall grow fruit, and vegetables.” She managed a brief smile. “I am even learning to cook.”

Sir James looked shocked. “My dear, there is surely no need for that? I thought that Martha…”

“Martha is an excellent housemaid, but she has no gift for cooking. My own efforts are in self-defence, and it is not so very difficult. Hester has brought me a copy of Mrs Rundle’s book, and I follow it to the letter.”

“Even so, it is an unsuitable task for you. I’ll send someone over from the Hall.”

“No, please! I beg that you will not. We are too much in your debt already…”

“I wish I could do more. You shall have coals, and food of course, and the use of a carriage when you need it. I’m sorry about the house in London, but the rent was beyond my means, otherwise you might have finished your Season…That I do regret.”

“Please don’t. How could we have stayed? After Father’s death, rumour alone would have driven us away. It would have been unthinkable.”

Sir James regarded her set expression with unease. How much had she heard? He’d done his best to protect his wife’s family from the worst of the London gossip, but rumour had raced through the Ton like wildfire, and had lost nothing in the telling.

Even without it India had been badly hurt. Described always as “the child of his heart,” she had been her father’s favourite, and to her he had seemed a godlike creature. Now her uncle sensed that much of her anger towards Lord Isham stemmed from that hurt, and the realisation that her idol had feet of clay. Gareth Rushford’s death had come as a shock to all of his family, but what had followed had been worse.

Damn the fellow, Sir James thought savagely. He had known for years that that charmer’s carefree lifestyle had rested upon a pyramid of debt. It had taken only that fatal evening at White’s to bring the whole edifice crashing down. The result had crushed his family.

Now India spoke with difficulty. “Have you heard nothing more? About the accident, I mean?”

“Nothing!” her uncle said mendaciously. India must never learn the truth. Gossip had not lied, as he had taken the trouble to find out. Knowing that he was ruined, Rushford had stayed on at the club, drinking heavily. In the early hours of the morning he had staggered out of White’s and into St James’s Street. Would they ever discover if that lurch into the path of a racing curricle had been deliberate? He himself suspected it. Had Rushford tried to spare his family the shame of an obvious suicide? Perhaps. As it was he had died instantly beneath the flying hooves.

There was little he could say to comfort his niece, but he tried. “It was very dark, you know, my dear. We suspect that your father did not see the carriage until it was upon him. At least he did not suffer.”

“Even so…I wonder that he did not hear the horses. It is very strange…”

“My dear child, you must not torture yourself. Perhaps your papa was thinking of something else…”

“His gambling debts? Oh, Uncle, how I hate the practice! It should be outlawed…”

“There, at least, we are in agreement, India. As you must know, my own estate is heavily encumbered and has been so since my grandfather’s day. He had to sell much of it to settle his losses at cards. I have been trying to buy it back, a little at a time.”

“I know it,” she cried warmly. “Hester has told me how you’ve struggled. It is selfish of me to think only of our own concerns, but I cannot help wondering how men can risk their substance upon the turn of a card.”

“Not only men, my dear. It is the vice of our time, and the ladies play their part. You must have seen it when you were in London.”

“I didn’t pay much attention,” she confessed. “There were so many other things to do. It was one long round of parties, balls and concerts…”

Sir James’s hand reached out to her. “Your life now will be very different,” he said sadly. “Tell me now…during your Season, was there no one…I mean…?”

“You mean did anyone offer for me?” For the first time India managed a slight smile. “No, they did not. Uncle, look at me! In the first place I am much too tall. I towered over most of the men who danced with me. And then, you know, I cannot be described as ethereal. I believe that statuesque is the kindest word. My hair is not exactly carrotty-red, but it is certainly a ruddy chestnut, and blue eyes are much preferred to hazel.”

Sir James smiled his dissent, and India dimpled. “I did, however, create one sensation,” she admitted. “I had the misfortune to offend George Brummell, who promptly snubbed me. I was expected to be crushed, but I’m afraid I laughed aloud. He won’t forgive me for it.”

“You seem to have borne that fate with fortitude,” Sir James said drily. “He is another, I fear, who lives beyond his means.”

India was silent. That last remark was much too close to home.

Her uncle sensed it and made haste to change the subject.

“How is Letty?” he enquired. “I hope that she is a comfort to you at this time.”

“She is upset, but not because of our losses. Letty is in love. We had hoped that Oliver Wells would offer for her, but now? Well, I don’t know.”

“Wells?” Sir James considered for a moment. “One of the Wells of Bristol? Money can be of no consideration there, so it cannot signify if Letty has no portion. I married for love myself, you know…”

“I know it, Uncle dear, but Oliver is a younger son and his mother is as proud as Lucifer. She is hoping for a splendid match for him. Now Letty has sent word that all must be at an end between them. She tries to hide it, but I know how sad she feels.”

“And your brother? Where is Giles? I had hoped to find him here with you today. There is so much to be decided. Have you news of him?”

“Giles is gone into Derbyshire,” India faltered. “He stays with the Cromfords. It was a long-standing invitation…”

“Indeed!” Sir James’s voice was stiff with disapproval. “The invitation might have been declined. His place is here with you.” He did not trouble to hide his anger. His fear always was that Giles might follow in his father’s footsteps.

India bit her tongue, though her instinct was to fly at once to her brother’s defence. She was saved from further strictures upon his conduct when Letty entered the room.

Her sister looked pale and tired, but she managed a smile for her uncle. Then she turned to India.

“The doctor has gone up to Mama,” she murmured. “I caught him as he was about to start his rounds, and he brought me back at once.”

“Good!” India smiled encouragement at the younger girl. “Mama needs rest above anything. Then, when she is feeling better, we shall tell her of our plans.”

“What plans are these?” Sir James bent a keen gaze on his nieces, thinking as he did so that they could not have been less alike. No one would imagine that they were so closely related.

Letty was a full head shorter than her sister, and so slender as to appear almost elfin. That look was emphasised by her crop of fashionably short blonde curls atop a pair of dark blue eyes. A beauty, he decided, but to his mind India cast her into the shade.

Beside those of the younger girl, India’s looks were striking. There was character in that face, with its strong jaw and noble brow. The much-despised auburn hair was drawn back smoothly into a chignon, beneath which surprisingly fine black eyebrows soared above the great hazel eyes, framed as they were by sooty lashes.

Sir James smiled to himself. India had no trace of vanity, believing herself to be so plain.

Yet in one respect she had seized correctly upon the reason for her lack of offers. Even at first glance it must be clear to the most casual observer that this was a woman to be reckoned with. There was resolution in those sweetly curving lips, and a stubborn tilt to her chin. He sighed. Such qualities were scarcely at a premium in the marriage market. As a wife India was unlikely to be biddable.

Not for the first time he regretted the close proximity of Mrs Guarding’s Academy. So many of the local girls had gone there. Had he known that his own daughter would be exposed to the radical thinking of that redoubtable educationalist he would have sent Hester to a more conventional school for the children of the gentry. Greek, Latin and philosophy indeed! Of what use could those subjects be to any sensible woman? And that was not the worst. Both India and Hester had now what he could only describe as an odd kick in their gallop. Both were inclined to speak out as boldly as any man. These notions of independence would never do.

With a sigh he returned to the matter in hand, addressing Letty. She, at least, had some notion of what was acceptable feminine conduct.

“What plans are these?” he repeated.

Letty returned his smile, but she shook her head. “India will tell you,” she said shyly.

“India?”

“Uncle, we are trying to decide on something,” India admitted. “We cannot continue to rely upon your help.”

Sir James was not altogether surprised. He could understand her dislike of what she must regard as charity.

“And what have you considered?” He was determined to press her, knowing better than she that there were few options open to delicately nurtured girls thrown penniless upon the world. “You will not, of course, wish to leave your mother?”

“We may have no choice, but I heard yesterday that a teacher is to leave Mrs Guarding’s Academy. There may be an opening there.”

“Teaching, my dear? Shall you enjoy that way of life?”

“Enjoyment cannot be our first consideration,” India said quietly. “It would mean that we could stay here in the village. To take a post as a companion or a governess would mean leaving Mama. I’d like above all things to avoid that for the present until she is feeling better.” She raised her head. “Is the doctor leaving? I thought I heard a carriage. Surely he will speak to us before he goes?”

“It isn’t the doctor.” Letty had been gazing through the window. “We have another visitor.”

“Anyone we know?”

“I don’t recognise the carriage. I thought it might be someone who had lost the way, but young Jesse Ekin is pointing to our door.”

“How odd.” India rose to her feet as a thunderous knocking sounded at the door. “I’ll go, Letty. Martha must be upstairs.”

She had no presentiment of what awaited her, but the appearance of the man who stood before her caused her to recoil.

He towered over her, broad as well as tall, and as she looked up at his swarthy face a pair of keen dark eyes raked her figure from head to toe in obvious appreciation.

“Yes?” she said stiffly.

“My name is Isham,” came the brief reply. “I wish to see Mrs Rushford.”

For just a moment India was too astounded to reply. This was the author of all their misfortunes, and the sheer effrontery of his visit was unbelievable. It was in the worst of taste. Doubtless he had come to gloat over the downfall of his victims. He should not have that pleasure.

“Mrs Rushford is not at home to visitors,” she said in icy tones.

“I see.” The dark eyes studied her face. “And you are?”

“I am Miss Rushford, and I too am not at home to visitors…”

“On the contrary, you look very much at home, if I may say so. Miss Rushford, what I have to say concerns your family. Will you not hear me out?”

“Nothing you have to say could possibly be of interest to us…” India began to close the door and found a booted foot in the way.

“A rash statement since you don’t know what it is. I see that Sir James Perceval’s carriage is here. I will speak to him.”

“Sir, you are insolent! Kindly remove your foot.”

“Certainly not! I haven’t come all this way to be denied.”

India gave him a freezing look. It had no effect at all. She could not remove him by force, and well she knew it.

“Very well,” she said at last. “You may see my uncle. I doubt if you will attempt to force your will upon a man.”

To her annoyance his lordship’s lips twitched.

“It must be maddening to be a helpless female,” he agreed. “Now ma’am, if you will lead the way…?”

India’s back was ramrod straight as she marched ahead of him. In a moment he would get his just deserts. Sir James would brook no nonsense from this creature.

She was wrong. Much to her astonishment Sir James advanced upon their visitor with an outstretched hand.

“What may I do for you, my lord?” he asked. “We had not expected you before the New Year.”

“My business concerns your family, sir. I had hoped to see Mrs Rushford, but since she is not available…”

“My sister-in-law is indisposed, I fear. May I not be her proxy?”

“If you would be so good. This is a delicate matter. I should welcome your advice. Perhaps first you will present me to these ladies…?” Ignoring India, Lord Isham turned to Letty with an enquiring glance.

“Forgive me, sir. These are my nieces. India you have already met. This is her younger sister, Letitia.”

Isham bowed politely, but his bold stare brought a blush to Letty’s cheeks.

India could have slapped her. Must Letty look so…overcome in this man’s presence? She seized her sister’s hand, and making their excuses almost dragged her from the room.

“Oh dear! Should we not have been more polite?” Letty looked distressed. “India, you were giving his lordship dagger-looks.”

“Are you surprised? How he had the sheer effrontery to come here I can’t imagine. It is insulting.”

“But, love, we don’t know why he came…”

“Most probably he wants his money. There can be no other reason. Doubtless he has already visited the Grange and feels that he was cheated.”

“Well, it is in a poor state, you know. Nothing has been spent on it in years…”

“That isn’t the point. He gambled for it and he won it. That should be enough.”

India was still seething as she hurried up to her mother’s bedroom, but her expression softened as she looked at the wan figure lying in the old four-poster. Mrs Rushford’s eyes were closed.

The doctor put a finger to his lips. “Don’t disturb her. I’ve given her a draught. She will sleep now, and should feel better when she wakes.”

“She looks so ill.” Letty choked back a sob. “Is she…is she dying?”

“Not at all, you foolish girl! Your mother is a prey to nerves. Give her time to recover from the strain of these past months and she will soon be well again.” The doctor picked up his bag and took his leave of them.

“We had best let Uncle know.” India peered through the window, but Isham’s coach was waiting still.

“Damn the man!” she cried. “What can he have to say that takes so long?”

Letty giggled. “You may be thankful that Mama is sleeping. She would be shocked to hear you swear.”

“I’m sorry, but that creature would try the patience of a saint. Did you see how he looked at us? He might have been assessing prize cattle.”

Letty’s colour rose. “I know it, but, well…you know his reputation. It is the talk of London…”

“Oh, you mean his opera-dancer? The expensive bird-of-paradise? He can well afford to give her a house and carriages and jewels. She’s said to be the latest of many, but without his wealth no one would look at him.”

Letty was pink with embarrassment. “Oliver won’t discuss it, but other people do. The matchmakers have given up on Isham. They say that he will never marry.”

“Who would want him? It is no wonder that he tries to buy affection. I never saw an uglier-looking man. Why, he might be a gypsy or a pirate. All that is wanting is a gold ring in one ear.”

Letty was moved to protest. “He is not ill-favoured, India. He is of a dark complexion, but his eyes are very fine.”

“You are a model of Christian charity, sister dear. Let us say that his reputation must be very bad indeed if even a massive fortune does not attract the marriage market.”

“It isn’t that, I’m sure.” Letty was determined to be fair. “I think he frightens people more than anything. His look is so…so shameless. I felt as if I had forgotten to wear my gown. I wanted to run away and hide.”

“Oh, Letty, must you be so timid? We must not let him see that we care at all for his opinion. I intend to treat him with contempt.”

Letty shuddered. “Must we go down and take our leave of him?”

“Certainly not! As far as Lord Isham is concerned we are not of the least consequence. Unless I am mistaken he sees women as fit for one purpose only…”

Letty blushed again. Then she gave a sigh of relief. “Oh, India, he is going. Thank heavens for that.” She stood by the window until his lordship’s carriage had disappeared.

“Had we best go down again?”

“In a moment. Letty, Uncle is sure to question us again as to what we mean to do. Have you any ideas?”

“I can’t think of anything,” Letty admitted helplessly. “I couldn’t teach, even if Mrs Guarding offered me a post at the Academy. I might take a post as a companion, but that would mean leaving home.” Her lips quivered.

“Dearest, don’t distress yourself. You are clever with your needle, which I am not, and you sing so well. You might think of teaching music.”

“I don’t know. Mrs Guarding may not have an opening for both of us. In any case, Uncle will not like it…”

“I don’t expect he will. He blames Mrs Guarding for Hester’s advanced ideas, but that is not quite fair. Hester would be of an independent mind, however she was taught.” India chuckled. “Uncle wishes me to speak to her and to bring her round to a better understanding of her duty. By that he means marriage, as you know.”

Even Letty twinkled at that. “I wish you luck,” she said more cheerfully. “Shall we visit her today? She is such a fund of gossip.”

“Then come with me and enjoy a coze. We could go back with Uncle, since Mama is to sleep for hours. The change will do you good.”

“I’d like that. We have been so dull of late…with nothing but worry and disappointment.” Letty’s face grew sad. “I had hoped to hear from Oliver, although I did say that we must give up all thought of an engagement. He must have taken me at my word.”

“Nonsense, you silly goose! Have you no faith in him? If he loves you truly he will not give up so easily. Now bathe your eyes. We’ll go down and hear what Uncle has to say. Isham has probably suggested sending us to the salt mines to earn a crust…”

This outrageous statement finally brought a smile from Letty. Still protesting at the ridiculous notion she followed her sister down the stairs.

“You think Isham capable of anything,” she teased.

Yet even India was unprepared for the news with which Sir James greeted them. He looked so serious that both girls were alarmed.

“What is it?” India asked. “Is Isham demanding more? We have nothing left to give…”

“Sit down, my dears. It is nothing like that. Now what I have to say concerns each of you. Lord Isham came to offer for you…either of you. He wishes you to decide between yourselves which of you is willing to become his bride.”

Chapter Two

For a few moments India was too stunned to speak. Then she found her voice and began to smile.

“Uncle, I believe you mean to punish us for our rudeness to Lord Isham. You have hit upon the very thing to frighten us. What a fate for any girl! It is a dreadful prospect, even if you mean only to tease.”

Still smiling she looked up at her uncle, but saw no answering amusement in his face.

“India, I do not tease. His lordship has made a serious offer, and I must insist that you treat it as such.”

India stared at him in disbelief. “You cannot mean it! If this is Lord Isham’s idea of a joke it is in the worst of taste. Hasn’t he done enough to harm our family? Must he indulge in mockery too? I hope that you ordered him from the house.”

“I did no such thing. This is no joke. I am surprised at you, my dear, though I will make allowance for the shock. Your manner towards Lord Isham left much to be desired. I had not expected such a want of courtesy from any of my family.”

“A want of courtesy?” India cried wildly. “That man is our enemy. Would you have us fawn upon him?”

“You forget yourself, I fear. Must I remind you yet again that Isham did not force your father to sit at the tables with him? I am disappointed in you. Reason is needed here, not an exhibition of ill-temper.”

His tone was severe, but India was too distraught to heed his displeasure.

“You can’t believe that he is serious,” she pleaded. “I have never heard of such an offer. Are you saying that Isham has no preference? That either of us will do? It is insulting. Forgive me if I question his motives.”

“India, you are not a child. The offer is unusual, certainly, but Isham needs an heir. Should aught happen to him the title goes to his half-brother, and Henry Salton is scarce fit…” He left the sentence hanging in the air.

India struggled to regain some semblance of composure.

“So Isham needs an heir? That I can accept, but why offer for Letty or myself? All the matchmaking mamas in London have been hanging out for him for years. He might take his choice of a dozen girls.”

“I am sorry to see that you will believe no good of him. Perhaps you might consider that Isham has a conscience. He is well aware of your present circumstances.”

“Then this offer is an act of charity? A sop for his guilt? What poor creatures he must think us! I for one will have none of it. He may peddle his offer elsewhere…”

“This is foolish talk. You think only of your own pride. What of your mama and Letty?”

India glanced at her sister and was stricken. Letty seemed on the verge of collapse, but she struggled to speak.

“Uncle is right,” she whispered. “If his lordship’s intentions are honourable we must not sneer at him.”

“That’s right, my dear.” Sir James gave the younger girl an approving glance. “You should listen to what I have to say before you reject this offer out of hand. Isham is prepared to be generous. He will settle the Grange upon his bride. Your mama may return there with a handsome allowance to enable her to live in comfort. Your own portions will be restored, though much enhanced, and the future Lady Isham will be the recipient of several other liberal settlements.”

“He’s trying to buy us!” India cried indignantly. “Mama will not allow it.”

“Please try for a little conduct, India, and do not get upon your high ropes. I intend to speak to your mama when she is a little restored. In the meantime I shall be obliged if you will restrain your comments. As Letty has pointed out it is quite wrong to censure a man who is trying to make amends for circumstances which are not his fault.”

India hung her head. “I’ve been quick to judge,” she admitted. “But this offer seems so casual. It would appear that any woman will do.”

“That is not so, as you yourself have admitted. Isham must be all of thirty-five. He might have chosen a bride at any time these past fifteen years.”

With all her heart India wished that he had done so, but she would not antagonise her uncle further.

“So what is to happen now?” she asked.

“Isham is staying at the Grange. He will return tomorrow for your answer.”

“So soon?” Letty cried in a faint voice. “Will he not give us more time to consider?”

“Apparently not. My dears, I must leave you now, but I shall visit you again this evening. By then your mama may be feeling better. We shall speak further on this matter.”

All thoughts of visiting Hester had vanished from India’s mind. Her manner was abstracted as she took leave of her uncle. Then she sat in silence for a time. Letty’s scared voice recalled her to the present.

“India, what are we to do?” The great blue eyes were wide with apprehension.

“Why nothing, dearest. We must not worry. Mama will be as shocked as we are. She won’t consider such a proposition.”

India was wrong. She entered her mother’s room that evening to find her parent closeted with Sir James.

More animated than she had been for months, Isabel Rushford greeted her daughters with a radiant smile.

“Now, my dears, is this not a piece of great good fortune? It is all that I had hoped for you. What a match! Even in London I had not thought to aim so high.” She reached out her hands towards her girls. “Now which of you is it to be? You must have spoken of it whilst I slept.”

“We have spoken of naught else.” India stared at her mother in amazement. “Mama, pray do not set your heart upon this scheme. It is sheer folly. What do we know of Isham, apart from the fact that he has ruined our family?”

She watched in dismay as her mother’s smile disappeared.

“Isham did not ruin us,” the older woman said sharply. “That was your father’s doing. Oh, I know that to you he was a god.” She gave a bitter laugh. “In your eyes he could do no wrong, but now you know the truth of it. Folly, you say? His was the folly. As to Isham’s offer, your uncle welcomes it, and so do I. Will you set your opinion above our own?”

India was silent, but her mother was not finished.

“You are become very high in the instep, Miss, if his lordship is not good enough for you. As I recall you had not offers enough for you to pick and choose…”

It was a cruel gibe and the taunt stung. India bit her lip and turned her head away.

“Isabel, my dear, let us not lose our tempers,” Sir James said mildly. “Your girls do not know the way of the world as we do and this offer has come as a shock to them. They are entitled to know something of Lord Isham’s background before any decision is reached.”

Letty smiled at him. Though terrified at the prospect of becoming Isham’s bride, she dreaded further attacks upon her sister. “Uncle James, I wish you will tell us more,” she said. “We know so little about his lordship.”

Isabel Rushford intervened before Sir James could speak. Now she tossed her head. “Very well then, you foolish creatures. Lord Isham’s background is impeccable. His is one of the oldest families in the country. You know of his wealth, of course?”

“We do, and we also know of his opera-dancer!” India was moved to open rebellion, and this rash statement brought a shriek of horror from her mother.

“India! Such indelicacy, and before your uncle too!”

“Uncle knows that I am not a child. He told me so this morning.”

“That may be so, but for an unmarried girl to discuss such things! I declare, I am shocked beyond belief!”

“But not by Isham’s proposition, Mother?” India plunged on recklessly. She was already in deep disgrace, but now she was fighting for survival, either for herself or Letty. She recognised the stubborn look about her mother’s mouth. With all the obstinacy of the weak, Mrs Rushford intended to have her way at any cost. More often than not it was the prelude to hysterics.

Letty had seen the danger too, but before she could speak the bitter tirade continued.

“This is a proposal, not a proposition. Let me assure you that there is a difference. Since you are so worldly-wise I am surprised that you do not know it.”

“Mama, have you ever met Lord Isham?” Letty ventured timidly.

Isabel looked at her younger daughter and saw a ray of hope. Letty was always more amenable than her sister.

“Why yes, my love,” she said more quietly. “I met him once. Naturally, he was all courtesy…”

Then you must have caught him on a good day, India thought to herself. Most probably he had just succeeded in separating another unfortunate from his worldly goods.

“I wonder that he has never married,” Letty continued in artless tones. “Especially as he has so much to offer.”

India gave her sister a sideways look. Letty detested confrontation. She preferred to argue in a more subtle way. Sometimes it worked, but on this occasion India felt that both she and Letty were fighting a losing battle.

Sir James bestowed a glance of approval upon his younger niece. “I doubt if he had the opportunity, my dear. He was with Wellington from the start, you know, and has spent much time abroad.”

“Was that not after Barbara…?” Isabel looked at her brother-in-law, saw the slight shake of his head, and stopped in mid-sentence.

“Isham was wounded at Talavera,” Sir James continued hastily. “His injuries were such that he was forced to return to England.”

“He must be a brave man,” Letty murmured.

Isabel beamed at her. “My dear child, that is so. Does this mean that you will accept him?”

Letty was startled. She had not intended her words to convey such a meaning.

The tears sprang to her eyes. “Oh, no!” she cried. “I can’t. If I can’t have Oliver I shall never marry.”

Her words brought on the threatened attack of hysterics. Isabel Rushford threw herself back against her pillows, tore off her cap and gave vent to her feelings of persecution. Hiccuping sobs were interspersed with a diatribe upon the ingratitude of modern children and their evident wish to see their mother starving in the gutter.

India had heard it all before, but it always succeeded in distressing her. Now, faced with tears from Letty and her uncle’s acute discomfort, she undertook the belated role of peace-maker.

“May we not speak of this more calmly?” she asked, her deep voice cutting through the pandemonium. “Perhaps I have been too much the devil’s advocate. I have stated my objections. Now, Uncle, will you give us your own opinion?”

There was a sudden silence. Mrs Rushford’s sobbing ceased and a wary eye appeared from behind a sodden handkerchief. “Of course,” she muttered feebly. “Listen to your uncle, my dears. He will advise you…You know I think only of your happiness…When you have heard him out you will not oppose him, I am sure.”

“It is exactly as I told you, India.” Sir James settled back in his chair with obvious relief. Female vapourings were not to his taste. In the ordinary way he would have absented himself from the scene but this was a matter of the utmost importance. It would not be resolved by cowardice.

“Isham is prepared to be more than generous,” he continued. “He will make handsome settlements. Even at this present time he is undertaking extensive repairs to the Grange. I believe you should consider carefully before coming to a decision. This match would make all the difference to your circumstances…”

“Surely you won’t refuse him?” Mrs Rushford cried. “He may even be persuaded to do something for Giles.” She glanced slyly at India, knowing her elder daughter’s fondness for her brother. “The happiness of others is at stake, remember. It would be selfish beyond measure to think only of your own.”

India was silent. She knew that statement for what it was. Emotional blackmail was one of her mother’s favourite weapons.

Now Letty, desperate, was driven beyond her usual caution.

“Isham is such a black-looking man,” she wailed. “He frightens me! Mama, don’t make me wed him.”

India laid a firm hand on her sister’s shoulder, enjoining silence as she squeezed it gently.

“You find him ill-looking?” Isabel returned to the attack. “Let me tell you, miss, that I was married to the handsomest man in London, and where are we now?”

“I agree that looks are not everything,” India said quietly. “Uncle, I think you said that Lord Isham will return tomorrow?”

“After noon—possibly at four o’clock, or so he hoped.”

“Then may I call on Hester in the morning? I haven’t seen her in this age…”

Sir James hesitated, searching his mind for some reason to put her off. His eldest daughter, with her radical views on marriage, would be certain to advise against the match. Mrs Rushford too had seen the danger.

“Had you forgot, my love?” she asked sweetly. “The vicar is to call tomorrow. He would take it ill indeed if you were not at home.”

It was the first that either girl had heard of the proposed visit, but India understood at once. She was to be prevented at all costs from discussing Isham’s offer with the forthright Hester. She turned to her uncle.

“You are certain that we have nothing left—not even a single guinea, Uncle James?”

“No, my dear, and I am sorry for it, but there is nothing more to be done.” For some reason the question had disturbed him more than any of India’s previous questions. He gave her a sharp look. India was no fool. She must never guess that to pay off her father’s debts he himself had had to find the balance. It meant that repairs to his own roof must wait, but this was a matter of family honour.

She did not question him further. Instead she turned to her mother.

“Mama, shall you object if I see Lord Isham on my own tomorrow? You won’t be well enough to receive him, and there is no need for Uncle to be present.”

Isabel Rushford looked alarmed. “Nonsense, it is out of the question. It would not be seemly. Besides, I am feeling better already…”

“I thought that if I got to know him better…?”

Her mother eyed her with suspicion. “You are inclined to speak out much too freely, India. Remarks such as those you’ve made today would cause him to withdraw at once.”

“I promise not to cause him to withdraw…” India was playing for time. She was suffocating beneath the pressure brought to bear upon her.

“That’s my good girl!” Isabel beamed upon her daughter. “You always had good sense, and after all, it is not as though your affections are engaged elsewhere.” She turned to her brother-in-law. “Sadly poor India did not receive a single offer during her Season.”

“Then that must show a want of taste in our young men,” Sir James replied gallantly. “Now I must take my leave of you, but, my dear girls, do consider carefully. This could be a splendid match for one of you.”

Letty could scarcely wait until she and her sister were alone. Leaving the radiant Mrs Rushford to her dreams of glory, she seized India by the hand and dragged her downstairs to the parlour.

“What are we to do?” she cried in anguish. “Mama has set her heart upon this marriage.”

“I don’t know,” India admitted. “Letty, did you see Uncle’s face when I questioned him about the money?”

“Oh love, you don’t believe that he would lie to us? He would not withhold a penny that was due to us…”

“Of course not, but I suspect that all our assets have not met the debt. I think that he has paid the rest himself.”

“Oh no! That is truly dreadful! But, India, you must not let it sway you. Why did you agree to see Lord Isham? You dislike him so…you can’t be thinking of accepting him?”

“I had to say something. Mama was in a state and getting worse, and Uncle hated all the fuss…” She sighed. “I suppose that I am hoping for a miracle, but we must have more time. How I wish that Giles were here. He might think of something, and Mama will listen to him.”

“What could he do? Like the rest of us he has nothing now. The loss of the estate has been a bitter blow. He longed so much to manage it.”

“I know.” India was lost in thought. “Love, shall you mind if I retire? It’s early, but my head is pounding.”

Letty was all sympathy, but sensibly she refused to fuss. She knew her sister well. India needed time alone.

“You’ll think of something,” she announced with confidence. “You always do…” Dropping a kiss upon India’s brow, she left the room.

India’s mind was in turmoil. Letty’s confidence, she felt, was totally misplaced. For her own part she could see no solution to their problems other than to agree to this repugnant marriage. The Rushford family must no longer be a drain upon the stretched resources of her kindly uncle.

Her hope now was that Isham would find her unacceptable, but there she was torn with indecision. That might mean that Letty would be forced to wed him. That must not happen. Her gentle sister would be no match for that arrogant creature. He would make her life a misery.

Perhaps she herself could find a way to make him pay for the ruin he had brought upon them. It was a tempting thought, and revenge would be sweet.

There were other considerations. As Lady Isham she would have her own establishment, with the powers that an ancient title and vast wealth brought always in their train. And she could help Giles. Her mother would live out her days in comfort, and Letty, with her portion restored, might yet attain her heart’s desire. The reasons for accepting his lordship’s offer were overwhelming.

Yet every instinct warned her against it. She could not banish the darker side of the bargain from her mind. Isham was everything she detested in a man. He was an inveterate gambler, a roué and above all, one who had little regard for women. Was this to be her destiny, and the end of all her dreams of happiness?

She lay awake for hours, staring into the darkness, but by morning her decision had been made.

Next day her mirror revealed little evidence of her sleepless night, apart from a trace of shadow beneath the clear hazel eyes. Her creamy skin glowed with its usual health. As she tugged a brush through the heavy mass of auburn hair she sighed. What would she give now for the services of that fashionable London hairdresser with his gifted way of winding her locks into a style which emphasised her high cheekbones and the clean lines of her profile.

She did her best, but the result left much to be desired.

Still, it would not matter to Isham, she decided. He was not looking for a mistress, merely some female who would not disgrace his name and would provide him with an heir.

Well, she would not disgrace him. Her looks were not in the common way of fashion, but no one would mistake her for anything other than a woman of breeding. An unfortunate turn of phrase, she admitted to herself. It would not be pleasant to be regarded as a brood-mare.

The implications made her stomach churn, and she found that she was trembling. How could she let Isham touch her? Every sense recoiled from the idea. Stifling her fears, she hurried down to the parlour.

There she found the Vicar in conversation with her mother. William Perceval, Sir James’s younger brother, held the living, and had done so for many years. A kindly man, he was a favourite with both the Rushford girls.

India kissed him warmly, and asked about his family.

“Your Aunt Elizabeth is well,” he smiled. “Though she dislikes these cold, dank days of winter. The girls, of course, do not notice. That is one of the advantages of youth.”

India smiled. Her aunt made no secret of the fact that she detested winters spent in the draughty vicarage, try as she might to bear the conditions with Christian fortitude.

The Vicar shot a keen glance at his niece’s face. “Your mama has been speaking of Lord Isham’s offer,” he continued. “I was surprised to receive her message asking me to call so early…”

India did not look at her mama. As she had suspected, the story of the Vicar’s proposed visit had been a lie, designed to prevent her visiting Hester.

“We are always glad to see you,” she said truthfully.

“And this offer? How do you feel about it?”

“It came as a shock to us.” India would go no further, but the Vicar was concerned.

He had never had much time for Mrs Rushford—a hysteric and a hypochondriac if ever he saw one. He was well aware of the means she used to get her way. Not for the first time, he gave thanks to heaven that his brother had chosen her sister rather than herself to be his wife.

As for the girls…Poor Letty was looking distraught and India, though controlling her emotions, was clearly under a great strain.

There was little he could do to help them, without appearing to interfere too obviously. For the moment he contented himself with observing that as marriage was for life even the dazzling prospect of this unexpected offer should be given a great deal of thought.

Mrs Rushford frowned at him. “Why, Vicar, as their uncle I expect you to have the welfare of my girls at heart. What is there to think about? Such a chance is unlikely to come their way again…”

“And do my nieces agree?” he asked lightly, aware of the air of tension in the room.

The ensuing silence gave him his answer, and Mrs Rushford gave him a dagger-look, which she then attempted to hide.

“What do young girls know of these things?” she asked. “They must be guided by their elders.”

“I see.” It was no more than the truth. He saw very well how matters lay. The girls were to be hounded until one or the other accepted Lord Isham. Well, in the last resort he would refuse to marry an unwilling bride, however wealthy her suitor.

Mrs Rushford saw his set expression and made haste to change the subject. “Have you heard no more of the Marchioness?” she asked. “That is a strange business.”

“Indeed it is. Rumour is rife, but we cannot place any reliance on such gossip. So many months have passed since she was seen that we must pray that no harm has befallen her.”

“It is said that Sywell himself has murdered her,” Mrs Rushford announced with relish.

“A rumour entirely without foundation, Isabel. The Marquis is ill-tempered, and capable of violence, but I cannot believe that he would visit it upon his wife. He doted on her.”

“Then where can she be?”

“No one seems able to answer that question. I attempted to question the Marquis, but I am unwelcome at the Abbey. As you know, I was against this marriage from the start. The union of May and December will never serve, and Louise Hanslope was little more than a child when she took it into her head to marry a man three times her age. It could only lead to disaster.”

“You think it important then, for both parties to be in complete accord?” India asked quietly.

“I do.” The Vicar smiled at her. “Marriage is a difficult state at the best of times. In the first flush of passion most people do not think it so, but it demands self-control, tolerance, and sometimes heavy sacrifice. Such qualities are not common in our society. Best of all, a life partner should also be a friend.”

“It seems idyllic, but almost a fantasy,” she agreed.

“It can happen, my dear. And when it does nothing can be more fulfilling. Well, I must save my sermon until Sunday, but you must come to see me if you feel the need.”

The door had scarcely closed upon him before Isabel Rushford voiced her displeasure.

“Why, I wonder, would your uncle consider that either of you girls might wish to see him privately? Your own mama is the person to advise you.”

“I think he meant only to be kind,” Letty murmured. “After all, it is his calling…”

Mrs Rushford sniffed. Her regular attendance at the Abbey services owed nothing to religion, but she enjoyed her role as the tragic widow, and the opportunity to gossip. Now she turned on India.

“I must hope that you intend to change your gown before his lordship’s visit,” she snapped. “That bombazine is positively dreary.”

“It is the warmest thing I have,” India told her simply. “Mama, the weather is so bitter, and this house is very cold. You will not expect me to freeze to please Lord Isham?”

“Must you defy me at every turn? I know that the black silk with the inset trimming has been turned and dyed, but it is more becoming. You will please wear it.”

Delighted though she was by Isham’s offer, Mrs Rushford viewed his coming visit with some apprehension. Privately she expected him to choose Letty as his bride, in spite of his suggestion that the girls should decide between them. At all costs India must be prevented from seeing him alone. She had given her promise not to cause him to withdraw, but would she be able to keep to it?

She now felt that she must play her highest card. “Think of your brother,” she coaxed. “He is sure to learn of something through Isham. His lordship must have several livings in his gift.”

Even Letty giggled. “Giles as a parson, Mama? He would not hear of it!”

“Hold your tongue, you foolish child! Giles will decide for himself.”

“Most certainly he will!” India gave her sister a speaking glance. The transformation in their mother was extraordinary.

Vanished was yesterday’s shrinking invalid. Mrs Rushford was already relishing her position as mother of the future Lady Isham. Naturally, her influence would be welcomed by her powerful relatives.

“Isham does not strike me as a man who will be easily persuaded,” India murmured.

“Perhaps not at the moment, but a wife is in a privileged position. Then it will be different, mark my words!”

The prospect gave India no comfort. The sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach was increasing by the minute as the dreaded interview approached. Now she prayed that his lordship had reconsidered his outrageous proposal. He had had time to sleep on it. Perhaps he had already changed his mind.

She could not rely upon such a happy outcome, and she could do no more than pick at the simple meal of cold meats which awaited them.

“Eat up, my girl!” her mother urged. “A lack of food will cause you to feel faint. Isham must not believe you to be subject to fits of the vapours and you are already much too pale. It is such a pity that we are still in mourning. I wonder if you should change again…perhaps the grey?”

India rebelled at that. “Mama, it cannot matter. What we wear is not of the least importance. Lord Isham met us yesterday, when we wore our plain round morning-gowns. He can be under no illusion as to our looks.”

“Do as I say!” came the furious retort. “Letty must change too. At present you remind me of nothing so much as washerwomen.”

There was nothing more to be said, but when they reached Letty’s room she seized India’s hand and looked at her with anguished eyes.

“India, I beg of you! Do not go through with this! You should not sacrifice yourself for me.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” India lied gallantly. “Nothing has been decided yet. You know that I hope to win more time…”

“Pray don’t try to deceive me. I know you too well…You mean to take him, don’t you?”

“I mean to talk to him. As I said, we do not know him. Possibly he is more reasonable than we imagine. I may be able to persuade him to wait, at least until Giles returns.”

“But how will that help us?”

“Giles may have heard of some position which would restore our fortunes…” Privately, India thought this unlikely, but she refused to give up hope. “Meantime, I must see Isham on my own. Mama will not hear of a delay. One of us will be handfasted to that insolent creature before we can blink an eye.”

Letty still looked troubled. She only half believed her sister, but she promised to talk their mama into allowing India a private interview with his lordship.

“But only if you will give me your word…?”

“Letty, I am not the stuff of martyrs. If all else fails I might agree to an engagement. I could break it later.”

“I suppose so.” Letty gave her a watery smile. “I feel so selfish, dearest, to have refused outright.”

“Never that.” India looked at the clock. “Help me now. Isham is sure to be on time…”

She was right. They had not long to wait. As the clock struck four Isham was announced and shown into the parlour.

As he bowed to her mother India stole a critical look at him. He had exchanged his riding garb for more formal garb, but the perfect tailoring of his plain blue coat served only to emphasise his massive, heavily muscled frame. There was nothing of the dandy about him and she guessed correctly that once dressed he gave his attire no further thought.

His manner was correct, his bow perfection, but his presence shattered the genteel atmosphere in the parlour. India had the impression that a strong wind had blown away all the conventions of polite society.

There was no obvious reason for this. An aristocrat to his fingertips, like many big men he moved with ease and grace. To her relief she was spared his penetrating stare on this occasion.

Instead, he engaged her mother in conversation. “I hope I see you much recovered, ma’am,” he murmured. “I was distressed to learn of your indisposition.”

“It was nothing, my lord.” Mrs Rushford waved aside all mention of her previous ailments. “Merely a headache brought on by this bitter weather. Sir, it is a pleasure to welcome you to Abbot’s Quincey.”

Isham bowed again. “You know this part of the country well?”

“I was born here, and so were my girls at…at the Grange.”

“Ah, yes!” Isham betrayed no trace of embarrassment at this mention of his recently acquired property. “I have just come from there. There is much to be done, I fear. Perhaps you will be good enough to advise me?”

India glanced at her sister. His lordship had found a sure way to her mother’s heart. For the next half-hour she was forced to listen to a discussion about the necessary improvements to the Grange, and the merits of the various workmen in the village.

She glanced down at her hands and found that they were trembling. She hid them at once in the folds of her gown but nothing could remedy the leaden feeling in the pit of her stomach. She had summoned all her courage for the coming interview but it was deserting her fast. Now she longed only to get it over with.

It seemed an age before her mother rose and summoned Letty to her side.

“Will you excuse us, sir?” she said. “India would like to speak to you.”

Isham merely bowed and held the door for them. As it closed he turned and leaned against it. For a panic-stricken moment India felt trapped. Once again she was forced to suffer that long, assessing stare.

“So you are to be the sacrificial lamb?” his lordship drawled at last. “What a fate, my dear!”

Chapter Three

It was an unfortunate beginning, but India kept her eyes fixed firmly on the carpet.

“You speak in riddles, sir,” she said. “Won’t you sit down?” Her shaking hands she kept well hidden. It was impossible to think with that large figure looming over her.

Isham sank into a chair. “Demure, Miss Rushford? The role does not suit you. I prefer the termagant who barred my entrance yesterday…”

India longed to tell him that his preference was not of the slightest interest to her, but she refused to be drawn. There was too much at stake. “You wished to speak to me, I believe?”

“Oh, I thought you wished to speak to me.” The lazy eyes roved over her, and she was reminded of Letty’s comment. Now she too felt naked beneath this creature’s gaze. Anger stiffened her resolve. The man was impossible. Well, he should find her a worthy adversary.

“My uncle tells me that you seek a bride,” she said in icy tones. “I understand that you have offered for me.”

“For either of you, Miss Rushford,” he corrected. It was a deliberate insult and India’s rage increased as his mocking voice continued.

“Your sister is the more conventional beauty, of course, though admittedly you have a certain something. In London I remarked it often.”

“In London?” India stared at him. “I think we have not met before…”

“I did not say that we had met. You did not frequent the gaming rooms, but your height alone attracts attention.”

India coloured, which added to her feelings of mortification. She bit her lips upon a hot retort, but he gave her no time to answer him.

“Pray do not feel embarrassed,” the maddening voice continued. “It is not a fault. Often I have observed that tall women have a certain elegance and style which must be the envy of their shorter cousins.”

“You are too kind!” India gritted out. “Have you other views on my appearance, sir? My nose, is perhaps, a little too long, and my mouth too wide?”

He was beside her in an instant. Then, to her horror, a large hand cupped her chin and turned her face to his, “No, no! Don’t underestimate yourself. Those eyes are well enough, and your skin is flawless. As to the hair? Well…not quite in the common way, perhaps…”

India struck his hand away, “I could always wear a wig,” she cried in fury.

“That’s better!” Isham was laughing down at her. “Now you are more yourself. We shall deal well together, my dear, but only if we are honest with each other. I can’t bear missish ways.”

India did not answer him. This interview was not going as she’d planned. He’d teased her into losing her temper and shedding her cool composure.

Now she tried to remember what she had meant to say. “You go too quickly, my lord,” she murmured. “I do not know you.”

“But you know of me, do you not? Now where is the stumbling-block? Is it the gambling, or the opera-dancer?”

It was too much. India rose to her feet and faced him squarely. “Are you trying to be offensive, sir? If so, I must wonder why you are here.”

“I’m here to offer for you,” he grinned. “Will you take me, ma’am? I promise to forget the opera-dancer.”

His tone had changed, but India would not be mollified. Even so, she chose her next words carefully.

“My uncle mentioned certain arrangements, sir. May I hear them from your own lips?”

Isham’s expression hardened. “If you will have it then, here is what I propose.” In a cool tone he listed details of the marriage settlement. “Is that satisfactory?”

“Perfectly, I thank you. And your own requirements?” India was aware that her apparently mercenary attitude had angered him, but she did not care. He himself had proposed this contract. In effect, he was buying her as a man might buy a slave in some Eastern market. She would not pretend that anything other than this settlement would persuade her to accept him.

“I need an heir.” His bluntness now matched her own. “I must also have a hostess, as I intend to enter politics. My wife must be able to receive the highest in the land and entertain them royally.”

India felt a little flicker of interest. “Shall you go with the Whigs or the Tories?”

“With the Whigs. I take it you have no objections?”

“Not in the least.” Secretly India was pleased. The policies of the Whigs were much more to her taste.

“Then we are agreed?” Isham held out his hand.

“Not yet, my lord. I need more time to consider your proposal…”

“Nonsense!” he said roughly. “Had you not made up your mind you would not be here. Pray spare me these attempts at maidenly convention.”

India hesitated.

“Come!” he continued. “You make your decision now, ma’am, or my offer does not stand.”

“But where is the need for haste?”

“I have my reasons. I do not propose to burden you with them at this present time.”

“Then perhaps an engagement…?”

“Which you would seek to break at the earliest opportunity? No, my dear, you must give me credit for some intelligence. If you accept we shall be wed by Christmas.”

“So soon? It is but weeks away…”

He smiled at her discomfiture and it infuriated her further. She had suspected him of being ruthless. Now she was sure of it. She was in no position to refuse him and well he knew it. He must have guessed at the pressure which had been brought to bear on her. Now he had added to it with his threat to withdraw.

“Let us understand each other,” he said at last. “I shall keep to the terms of our agreement if you will keep to yours. Your feelings towards me need not signify…”

India glared at him and he laughed.

“Will you deny that you detest me, ma’am? I should not believe you. If looks could kill I should now be lying at your feet.”

India was reduced to silence. She had never met a stranger character. What other man would offer to wed a woman who disliked him? She should have refused him there and then, but something held her back, and it was not only the thought of material advantage. With this man her life would most certainly not be dull, and what was the alternative? Letty would marry and she herself would wither on the vine, reduced to caring for a petulant invalid who gave her neither thanks nor affection.

Suddenly she held out her hand, rather to her own surprise. “We have a bargain, sir.”

Isham took her hand and kissed it, and as he did so she felt an odd little frisson of excitement. Those warm lips seemed to burn her skin and she drew back quickly.

“Shall we tell Mama?” she asked.

As she had expected, Mrs Rushford was overcome with joy. She would have embraced Lord Isham, but to India’s amusement he managed to avoid this fate.

Her sister was her main concern. Letty looked stricken to the heart.

India made as if to go to her, but Isham forestalled her, taking her sister to one side. It was to be some months before India discovered what was said on that occasion, but whatever it was removed the troubled look from Letty’s brow.

Oh, he was clever, India thought bitterly. He knew exactly what to say to ingratiate himself with every member of her family.

Later she tried to question Letty, but for once her sister was reticent.

“You have not even reproached me,” India murmured in surprise. “I thought you were against this match.”

“I was.” Letty’s look was positively smug. “But you know best…”

India could not help but wonder. Had Isham promised to help Giles, or Oliver? She would not put it past him to rally support in every way he knew. She tried to question the uncommunicative Letty further, but without success.

From then on she found herself with little time to think. Preparations for the wedding came upon her thick and fast. Isham would not hear of a delay, in spite of Mrs Rushford’s half-hearted protests that it was already late November.

In spite of her dislike of Isham, India could only admire the way in which he handled her mother’s objections. She noted wryly that he stifled possible argument before it could begin. Mrs Rushford was given no opportunity to insist upon her grandiose plans for an elaborate ceremony.

“I would not place such a strain upon you, ma’am,” Isham murmured smoothly. “Your health must be our first consideration…”

India almost giggled. For once her mother’s hypochondria had been cleverly used against her.

His lordship was not finished. “Time is short, as you have pointed out. I should not have ventured such a brief engagement except that of necessity you will wish to observe the proprieties…”

Isabel Rushford stared at him.

“I see that you agree with me,” he continued. “Owing to your recent loss we cannot celebrate in the style we might have wished. Otherwise the marriage might have taken place in London. As matters stand a simple ceremony would be best.”

It was a statement of intent, rather than a question, and India could not forbear to smile. It was what he had intended from the first, she suspected, but he had advanced upon her mother in good order, reminding her of the need for decorum, but sweetening the pill with apparent consideration for her health.

She caught his eye and surprised a wicked twinkle. Then he turned back to her mama.

“Ma’am, you will have so much to do, and I am sorry for it, but when the announcement appears in the Morning Post you may expect a flood of letters…” He sighed. “It is always the way upon these occasions, I fear.”

This happy prospect succeeded in lessening Mrs Rushford’s disappointment. Smiling fondly upon her future son-in-law, she left the betrothed couple to themselves.

Isham grinned at his bride-to-be. “Well?” he said. “How was that? I take it you have no wish for some fantastic circus?”

“Would it make a difference if I had?” India was very much upon her dignity. She regretted that he had seen her smiling at his machinations.

“Not in the least, you prickly creature! Even so, I imagine that you will wish for bride-clothes and a trousseau?”

For an awful moment India thought that he was about to offer her money. That would be the last straw. Already she felt like some commodity in the marketplace.

His lazy gaze rested upon her face. “No matter,” he announced. “We shall be a law unto ourselves. In this case the bride shall have her trousseau after we are wed.”

“It will be unnecessary, sir. You have pointed out yourself that I am still in mourning.”

It was a brutal reminder of his part in her father’s death, and Isham’s expression changed. “As you wish,” he said shortly. “Though the convention does not apply to a bride.”

India made no reply. She thought she saw a look of impatience in his eyes, but he changed the subject.

“I leave for London in the morning,” he announced. “I shall be away for several days. Have you any commissions for me?”

“None, my lord, though I wish you a safe journey.”

“Thank you, my dear.” His tone was ironic. “For that, at least, I must be grateful. India, may we not drop some of the formality? My name is Anthony.”

“Very well, my lord…I mean, Anthony…When do you return?”

“You will be spared my company until Thursday of next week. I have other matters to attend…”

India guessed that these important matters most probably concerned a visit to the opera-dancer, but she thrust the thought aside. It was no concern of hers.

“I hope to return with my half-brother, Henry,” Isham continued. “He will wish to support me at the ceremony.”

It was an unpleasant reminder of the course to which she had committed herself, but now that the decision had been made India was resolved to play her part.

“I look forward to meeting him,” she murmured politely. She was beginning to feel ashamed of her curt manner. Isham had done his best to treat her with civility in spite of her rudeness. On an impulse she held out her hand, but his lordship did not take it. There was something in his expression as he looked at her which she did not understand. For once his manner appeared abstracted.

“Tell me,” he said at last. “Do you go abroad much in the evenings?”

India stared at him. It was the oddest question.

“No, we do not,” she replied tartly. Isham must know that Mrs Rushford was not in a position to keep horses or a carriage.

“I believe that on occasion you have the use of Sir James’s carriage?” he persisted. “May I beg you not to use it after dusk?”

India stiffened. She was not yet Lord Isham’s wife. Why should he think it proper to dictate to her? She would go out as she wished.

He saw her look, smiled, and shook his head, but then his face grew grave. “There is good reason for my warning, India. You have not heard of the unrest?”

“No,” she answered in surprise. “What is that, my lord?”

“There is disaffection in this area, and it is growing. Certain men are banding together in large groups. They roam abroad at night, smashing machinery and burning factories.”

“But why? Who are they?”

“They are mostly labourers from the framework knitting industry.”

“But why destroy their means of livelihood?”

“That livelihood is almost non-existent now, I fear. The war with France has reduced demand for their stockings and export of Midlands cotton goods has fallen by a third. The harvest has been poor this year and food prices are extremely high. On reduced wages they cannot afford to eat. Half the local population is on public relief.”

“Then one can hardly blame them,” India cried.

“Their despair is understandable, my dear, but their actions cannot be condoned. The mood is ugly, they are heavily armed with muskets, pistols and hatchets. And there has been at least one death.”

India gasped. “We have heard nothing of this,” she said slowly. “But Anthony, they could have no reason to attack a private carriage. We ourselves do not go out at night, but both our uncles come to visit us.”

If Isham was pleased that she had used his given name of her own accord he gave no sign of it.

“I have no wish to frighten you,” he told her gently. “Yet a mob is sometimes carried away with a strange energy of its own. It needs only a core of hotheads; even a few will serve to whip the others to a frenzy. Then the original reasons for their actions are forgotten. Anyone may become a target.”

She shuddered, but he took her hand and pressed it. “You will be safe indoors,” he comforted. “And to date they have not ventured forth in daylight.”

Once again he raised her fingers to his lips. And this time she did not draw away until he took a step towards her. India stood very still. Pray heaven he would not try to embrace her. He was a stranger still. She would need more time to grow accustomed to this man who had come so unexpectedly into her quiet life. Yet again his curious antennae warned him of her feelings. He merely bowed and released her hand.

India felt like a gauche schoolgirl. Would she ever be at ease with him? He was unlike anyone she had met before. In his presence she was aware of the raw power beneath his formal manner. Charm and courtesy could not disguise it. She was about to marry a dangerous man.

He gave her no time to ponder further. With a brief word of farewell he took his leave.

They had expected no more visitors that day, but Isham had not been gone above an hour when Sir James Perceval arrived. He hurried into the parlour eager to hear their news.

“Well, my dears,” he said expectantly. “How did you go on with Isham?”

“Oh, James, such news!” Isabel Rushford could not hide her delight. “India is to wed his lordship!”

Sir James took India in his arms and kissed her soundly. “Well done, my child! Isham is a lucky man, and as for yourself, you could not have chosen a better.”

Forcing a smile, India thanked him. She was not surprised when he turned to her mama. “If only Hester had some of India’s good sense,” he mourned. “Now, perhaps, as India is betrothed, she will try to persuade my wilful daughter to follow her example.”

Wisely, Isabel said nothing. There was no love lost between herself and this particular niece. India might be difficult at times, but she was a paragon of obedience compared with Hester. She considered privately that the girl had been indulged beyond reason. Now there was no controlling her.

“Well, India, what do you say?” Sir James looked anxious. “Will you speak to her?”

“With pleasure, Uncle, but I cannot promise that she will pay me any heed.” India smiled up at him.

Hester was her dearest friend, but she made no secret of her views on marriage. She would be no man’s chattel. The news of India’s betrothal would bring her to Lilac Cottage at the first opportunity. India was sure of it.

She was not mistaken. On the following morning Hester was announced and, characteristically, she did not beat about the bush.

“What’s this I hear?” she demanded. “Father tells us that you are to be wed.”

“It’s true!” India coloured. “Oh, Hester, I had meant to come and explain to you myself, but it wasn’t possible.”

“I can imagine!” Hester said drily. “It came as a shock to all of us. We had no idea, you see.”

“Nor had I.”

Hester studied her cousin’s face intently. “Then it is as I thought? You were coerced into taking Isham?”

“Not exactly. I made the decision myself.”

“Helped, I make no doubt, by the threat of hysterics?” Hester’s opinion of Mrs Rushford matched that lady’s dislike of her. “India, this is too important for you to be swayed in such a way. We are speaking of your entire future. Forgive me if I am too outspoken, but I care about your happiness.”

“I know it, Hester dear, but let me explain. Mama was for the match, of course, but your father too approved of it.”

“He would. Dear Father! He sees no other course for any woman as far as security is concerned.” Hester was indignant, but then her expression softened, and she smiled. “I fear my parents are biased. Theirs was a love match, as you know. They have been so happy together. I cannot blame them for wanting the same for others, but you can imagine the pressure put on me to wed. I’m sorry for their distress, but I won’t agree.”

“Your case is different,” India said quietly. “There is not the same necessity for you to earn a living.”

“I may have to,” Hester laughed. “Should Father try to marry me off against my will I intend to run away.”

India returned her cousin’s smile. “That will never happen and you know it. Both your parents adore you.”

“That affection might be strained if I continue to argue for women to have freedom of choice. Yet look at the case of our missing Marchioness. Tell me, if you can, under what compulsion did Louise Hanslope agree to marry an ancient roué three times her age? There’s a fate that my father would never have forced on me, nor even your mother on you. You have heard nothing more as to her whereabouts?”

“Not a word. Have you?”

“I’ve heard a good deal of speculation. You may take your choice of a murder committed by the Marquis, or elopement with a paramour.”

“Most probably she just fled. Her life must have been a living hell.” India turned away to hide her own sadness.

Hester saw it and returned to the matter in hand. “Why are we discussing the Marchioness?” she demanded. “What of you? Have you really accepted Isham?”

“I have, but it is not quite what you think. There was so much to consider. I gave it a good deal of thought. Your father cannot continue to support us…”

“Stuff!” Hester exploded. “He would do so willingly. What is more, he would not forgive himself if he thought such a consideration had influenced your decision.”

India looked steadily at her friend. “Will you tell me the truth?” she asked. “I believe that our assets were not enough to cover the debt to Isham. Did Uncle find the balance?”

Hester would not meet her eyes, but neither would she lie. “There was some talk of it,” she admitted uncomfortably. “But it is no great matter.”

“It is to me, and then, as you know, there is Letty to consider. Under the circumstances Oliver Wells could not have offered for her. A connection with Lord Isham will alter the matter.”

“And Giles? What has he to say to this?”

“We have not heard from him, but there is little he can do. His own inheritance has gone. Mama is hoping that Isham will do something for him.”

“Well, at least your mother will be able to live in comfort.” Hester’s expression mirrored her disgust. “Have you considered yourself in all of this?”

“Of course I have. Think about it, Hester. What is the alternative? Letty and I had but two choices. Mrs Guarding might have taken one of us to teach at the Academy, but more likely we should have had to become paid companions to some lady, and Mama cannot be left alone.”

“I see.” Hester’s tone was grim. “You will not wonder at my desire to stand up for the rights of women. We are little more than chattels.”

She stopped abruptly at the sight of India’s stricken look. “There I go again!” she confessed. “Tact is not my strongest point, but I get so angry when I think how little say we have in the conduct of our lives. Now tell me, what do you know of Isham?”

“Very little.” India admitted. “I haven’t spent above three hours in his company.”

“But are you quite determined to wed him?”

“I am. Pray don’t try to dissuade me, Hester. I have given my word and I won’t go back on it.”

“I see.” Hester looked thoughtful. “Well, if it must be, you could do worse, my love. His lordship is no fool. His intellect can only be respected. I have read some of his speeches…”

“He told me that he thinks of going into politics…”

“He should do so. Men such as he are badly needed in Government.”

“Have you met him?”

“No, but I should like to do so. He is sound on conditions in the northern mills. His place is in Cheshire, is it not? He will be aware of the high unemployment in the north. These days trade is almost non-existent, or so I hear. So many have been ruined by Napoleon’s blockade of the European ports…”

“But surely the Government must help?”

“The Government will do nothing, India, other than to order in troops to stamp out disaffection. Repression rather than compassion would appear to be the order of the day. Isham opposes this policy, I believe, although I am no expert on such matters.”

India was startled by such vehemence. “Do you think so highly of him?”

“I do, but from your tone I see that you do not.”

“I don’t know him, Hester, but he is the strangest creature. I find him somewhat overwhelming…”

“I hear that he is no Adonis, but surely that will not weigh with you?”

“Of course not. He has presence, but…”

“But you are a little afraid of him? You surprise me, India. In no time he will learn to love you. Then he will realise what a jewel he has won.”

“You are biased, my dear. The plain fact is that his lordship needs an heir. That is his only reason for making me this offer.” India stopped. She had said more than she intended, and her bitterness must be apparent.

“Nonsense!” Hester said roundly. “The man could have chosen any of a dozen females. I see that you do not find him very lover-like…”

“No! At least he has spared me professions of his undying affection.”

“Very sensible of him! He must have known that you would not believe it. Confess now, you would have despised him for uttering such sentiments?”

She was rewarded with a reluctant smile. “How well you know me, Hester. I should not have welcomed falsehood. Whatever else, Isham is always frank.”

“Well then?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I suppose he injures my pride. He has a most unfortunate knack of putting me in the wrong.”

“How so?”

“Perhaps it’s because I am so quick to judge him. Only yesterday I had thought he meant to dictate to me when he warned me not to travel after dusk even close to home. I let him see my anger. Then I found that he was thinking only of my safety. I felt mortified by my own stupidity.”

Hester nodded sagely. “He was thinking of the Luddites. You would do well to heed him.”

“Luddites? Who are they?”

“He did not tell you?”

“He said something about disaffected labourers. I’ll admit I felt some sympathy for their cause…”

“So did I until Father told us of their violence and now, he says, it is gone beyond attempts to destroy the machines and the factories. They are firing barns and hayricks and terrorising the countryside.”

“Could he not speak to them? Uncle James is a reasonable man. If he promised to address their grievances…?”

“What could he do for them? He cannot give them bread or work. Besides, no one knows who they are. They wear masks or blacken their faces, and visit savage retribution on those who inform against them.”

“Can nothing be done?”

“The Government is sending troops. They fear that we may follow France into revolution if these uprisings spread.”

“The Terror? In England? Surely not.”

“It happened in France just twenty years ago, and this movement is growing fast. It is well organised, with secret signs and passwords, and men are ‘twisted in’, or recruited, with special oaths.”

“That does not sound like the work of the ordinary labourer.”

“You are right. So many of them can neither read nor write, but letters have been sent to their employers and even to the Prime Minister, signed ‘General Ludd’. It seems that nothing will stop them, though the penalty for frame-breaking is already transportation and may become a capital offence.”

India shuddered. “Thank heavens that Mama and Letty know nothing of this as yet. They are gone to the Vicarage this morning to spread the joyous news.”

It was difficult to hide her bitterness. “I suppose I must tell them?” she asked.

“India, they are sure to hear of it from one source or another.” Hester looked thoughtful. “You are right about the working men, I feel sure. There is something behind all this—some controlling intelligence which is playing upon their baser instincts.”

“But they must be desperate,” India protested.

“True! They are being forced to starve, but this is more than a plea to right their grievances. Men fighting for a just cause are often joined by those who have private scores to settle. Father is sure of it.” Hester rose to her feet. “You will be careful, won’t you?”

“I doubt if anyone has a score to settle with this family,” India told her with a rueful smile. “I can’t recall that we have injured anyone.”

“Of course not, dearest.” Hester embraced her fondly.

“And shall you attend my wedding? I should like that above anything.”

“You shall have my support, my love, and you take with you my good wishes for a long and happy life.”

India was tempted to tease a little.

“You shall not care to follow my example?” she asked wickedly.

“Great heavens, no! My dream is to have a small house of my own. If my portion remains in my own hands I should write, surrounded by my books.”

“Then that is what I shall wish for you. It sounds idyllic.”

“It is unlikely to happen. Mother insists that I try another Season in the hope that I shall ‘take’ this time. She is such an optimist. My last attempt was a disaster.”

“It was no worse than mine, I think…”

“Oh yes it was! I am too outspoken and the gentlemen fled in droves…” Hester laughed out loud. “I did make one conquest, you’ll be pleased to hear. Can you believe it? I was attacked in the Duchess of Sutherland’s library by some ancient lecher who could hardly stand without the aid of a stick. I won’t name names, but my admirer was stone-deaf, which must account for it. Hugo had to rescue me. You should have seen his face…”

Her amusement was infectious and both girls dissolved into peals of glee.

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