Meg Alexander - The Reluctant Bride

“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.”