Anne O'Brien - Puritan Bride

‘Of course.’ Marlbrooke bowed again and Kate responded with the slightest of curtsies within the bounds of good manners. ‘Mistress Harley. I have heard much of your beauty. Allow me to tell you that it was accurate in every detail.’ No trace of emotion crossed the smooth features, no hint of a smile touched the firm mouth and his glance in her direction was cursory in the extreme.

And who could possibly have told you anything about my appearance? questioned Kate silently. He was certainly adept in the art of flattery, even if he hardly looked at her. She determined to give him no pleasure in her reply.

‘Thank you, my lord.’ Her dark brows arched to express utter surprise. She ignored a warning glance from Sir Henry.

Marlbrooke appeared to be unconcerned with her cool response, but accepted Sir Henry’s invitation to sit, taking the chair beside the fireplace recently vacated by Simon Hotham and crossing one well-shaped leg over the other. Swynford was despatched to bring refreshment for the guest.

‘We were, of course, expecting a visit from your lordship,’ Sir Henry explained, ‘but hardly so soon. It has not been clement weather for travel.’

‘I stayed last night at the house of a family acquaintance, only a little distance from here.’ He shook out the lace at his wrists with a politely distant smile. ‘It was an engagement of long standing. It seemed to be too good an opportunity to miss.’ Kate’s raised brows once again registered his lack of enthusiasm.

‘Indeed, indeed.’

Swynford returned with pewter tankards of ale.

‘Let us hope that we shall be able to drink to the successful outcome of this matter,’ stated Sir Henry. Marlbrooke inclined his head in agreement as he accepted the tankard.

‘It seems to me a simple matter.’ The Viscount’s gaze swept the three players in the game. ‘Let us be honest about the possible outcome of the settlement of Winteringham Priory. We have both put forward a claim. It is most unlikely that the Commission will look with any sympathy on yours, given the history of recent loyalties and involvement in the War.’

Sir Henry knew that he was fighting a last-ditch stand, but rallied valiantly. ‘The estate belongs by right to the Harley family. It was not sold, but wrested from them forcibly—by your father, my lord. My niece has the legal right to the land. You cannot refute it.’

‘Possibly not.’ Marlbrooke remained calm and relaxed, sure of his ground. He could afford to be generous in victory. ‘The estate was sequestered from my father by the county committee in 1651. If you had made a push for the title then, it might have been a different story. As it is, my father compounded for the estate: indeed, he paid a far greater fine than the land was worth.’

Marlbrooke raised the tankard to his lips, drank, then continued. ‘For the past decade we have been excluded from politics and government until the happy restoration of our King. We devoted out energies to developing our assets. With considerable success, I might add.’ He smiled without humour. ‘I am in a far better position to bribe the Commission judges than you are, you understand.’

Sir Henry raised his hands, palm upwards, in defeat. ‘So. I have no choice but to accept the situation. I presume that you have not come here merely to gloat? What is your offer?’

‘All I ask is that Mistress Harley do me the honour of becoming my wife. I would not be so discourteous as to gloat,’ he reproved gently. ‘That will produce an immediate and satisfactory solution to any inheritance problem. She …’ he bowed his head slightly in Kate’s direction ‘… has the claim de jure, I have the estate de facto. What better solution? It is a valuable estate. We should not allow it to be harmed by interminable legal wrangling.’

Sir Henry looked with distaste at the composed and arrogant courtier before him. It was all too true, but it stuck in his gullet to accept it. ‘Very well,’ he stated, breaking the short silence. ‘Your offer has my consent. Katherine?’ He turned towards his niece who had remained silent and motionless throughout the negotiation, which had apparently settled her future without any reference to her own feelings in the matter. ‘You understand the situation. What is your reply?’ His fierce expression dared her to refuse the offer.

Kate continued to remain silent. What could she say? Her brain seemed to have frozen and she had lost the power of speech.

‘Katherine?’

Before the hiatus could become totally embarrassing, it was broken by Marlbrooke.

‘Perhaps I might be allowed to have a private word with Mistress Harley? I would not wish her to feel pressurised into this marriage against her will.’

A range of emotions flitted crossed Sir Henry’s face, not least the hope, quickly suppressed, that this arrogant young man would be refused out of turn by his volatile niece. Since the upstart Royalist was so confident, let him try!

‘Certainly, my lord. With pleasure. Perhaps, Katherine, you would care to show his lordship into the parlour.’

There was little point in arguing. Kate stalked out of the library, defiance writ clear in the erect spine, the proud carriage of her head, and into the pleasant panelled sitting room, which overlooked the front drive. She walked to the window where she turned to face her suitor, her back to the light so that it would be almost impossible for him to read her expression. Marlbrooke followed her more slowly, closing the door gently behind him.

The room echoed with a silence that neither party seemed to be in any hurry to break.

Kate stood motionless, acutely aware of her nerves stretching to breaking point, when Marlbrooke spoke. ‘So, Mistress Harley. You have had nothing to say so far about this transaction. I would be pleased to know your sentiments.’ His voice was soft but firm and Kate heard in it a command. She found her voice at last and was grateful that her anxiety was not evident.

‘Do you expect me to welcome this marriage?’

‘Hardly!’ He laughed gently. ‘But I do not desire a totally reluctant bride. That would lead to a most … uncomfortable relationship, would it not?’

‘So it would matter to you if I was pushed into this by family dictates?’ The surprise in her voice was clear.

‘Of course it would. I am no monster, in spite of any rumours to the contrary.’ Marlbrooke smiled slightly, a wry curl of his lips. ‘If you refused, if you could not possibly tolerate my person, I would accept your refusal.’

‘That’s all very well, my lord, but my uncle would not be so understanding!’ Kate was horrified to feel tears begin to sting her eyes and admonished herself at this emotional response to a practical matter. She swallowed and looked down, hiding her imminent distress with a sweep of dark lashes. ‘You are very kind,’ she managed in a low voice.

‘Is your heart perhaps given elsewhere?’

Richard! Oh, Richard! She shook her head. ‘No,’ she whispered, acknowledging the guilt of betrayal. She could not tell him. She could not allow him any knowledge that might give him a hold over her. She dare not trust his sympathy.

‘Your mother appears to see no objection.’

‘She wouldn’t, of course.’ Her tone was bleak.

‘I see. So, do you accept my offer, madam?’

It is like negotiating a good price for a beast at market, thought Kate wildly, swept by a sudden desire to laugh hysterically. Finally she raised her eyes to his across the growing shadows in the room.

‘My lord, I cannot refuse your offer.’

‘Then let us be practical.’ Perhaps he had heard the vestiges of panic in her voice, seen the ivory whiteness of her clasped fingers. ‘The marriage will bring you benefits. I am sufficiently wealthy to provide you with all the comforts of life that you could wish for. If it is your ambition to experience Court life, then so be it. Most importantly, you can return to your family home and be mistress of it. You must have affectionate memories of it.’