Sophia James: The Regency Season: Convenient Marriages: Marriage Made in Money / Marriage Made in Shame

‘I should not want a complicated ceremony given our circumstances.’ A slight shame highlighted Daniel Wylde’s cheeks after he said this and it heartened her immensely. He was not a man in the habit of being rude to women, then? She clutched at the cross at her throat and felt relieved.

Her father pressed on with his own ideas. ‘I was thinking we might hold the ceremony here, my lord, with a minister from our Presbyterian church, of course, and any of your family and friends you care to invite. I would have the first of the money promised transferred into your bank account within the week.’

The give and the take of an agreement. Again Daniel Wylde looked at her as if waiting for her to speak. Did he imagine she might stand up and negate all that her father had so carefully planned? Montcliffe had seen just exactly what those who might hurt her father were capable of. Lord, she brought her hand up and felt the scar just beneath the heavy wig at her nape. It still throbbed sometimes in the cold and the headaches had never quite abated.

‘After the nuptials we will repair to my family seat north of Barnet.’

‘No!’ It was the first real alarm Amethyst had felt. ‘I need to be close to Papa and as he is retiring to Dunstan House then this is where I should like us to live...’

‘I am certain we can work something out, my dear.’ Her father now, placating such an outburst.

Again she shook her head, the pulse of her blood beating fast. ‘I want to add a condition that I may live at Dunstan House, though if the Earl wishes to reside at Montcliffe Manor, then he may.’

‘Difficult to fulfil the clause of mutual cohabitation for a full two years if that is the case, Miss Cameron.’ His voice held a timbre of irony.

The clause her father had insisted upon . She glared at Robert, but kept her silence and was unexpectedly rescued by the very one she thought she would not be.

‘It does not signify. We will reside wherever you wish to.’ The Earl’s tone was slightly bored. An unwanted wife. An unwelcomed cohabitation. Easier just to take the money and acquiesce.

‘Then that is settled.’ Her father, on the contrary, looked pleased with himself. The thought that perhaps he had over-exaggerated his own illness came to Amethyst’s mind, but she dismissed this in the face of his extreme thinness. ‘We shall ask if the children from Gaskell Street can be a part of the choir...’

‘A small and simple wedding would be better, Papa.’

‘I agree.’ Lord Montcliffe spoke again. ‘My family, however, are proponents of the High Anglican faith.’

‘Then you bring your man of God and the service can be shared.’ Papa had hit his stride now and the Earl looked to have no answer to such an unconventional solution. In fact, he looked plainly sick.

‘A good solution, I think,’ Robert went on to say. ‘Then we can all be assured that you will be most properly married.’ Standing after such a pronouncement, he walked to the door. ‘But now I shall leave you alone for a few moments. I am sure there are things you might wish to say to one another without my presence to inhibit you.’

Amethyst glanced away, her father’s words embarrassing and inappropriate. What could the Earl and she possibly have to talk about when there was a palpable distrust in the air? Usually Papa was more astute at reading the feelings of others and seldom acted in a manner that she found disconcerting.

When the door closed behind him, softly pulled shut inch by inch, Lord Montcliffe looked straight at her.

‘Why would you agree to this charade, Miss Cameron?’

She asked him another question quickly back. ‘Did you love your father, my lord?’

He looked perplexed as he answered, ‘No.’

That threw her momentarily, but she made herself continue on. ‘Well then, I think you must understand that I truly do love mine. Father, I mean.’ Her voice shook. She was making a hash of this. ‘Papa is ill and his one and only wish is to see me well protected and cared for. He is so ill that I fear—’ She stopped, the words too shocking to say.

‘Then why choose me in particular?’ The tone of his fury was recognisable.

‘You liked horses and you made it your business to save Papa from the attack in the alley when you could have so easily just gone on. I do not wish for a mean husband or an inconsiderate one, you understand. Also the army has made you strong. Another advantage, if you like.’

‘A trade-off, then? Like the timber your father imports?’

‘Exactly.’ This was turning out to be a lot easier than she had hoped.

‘Damn.’ He swore and reached forward to tip her face up to his own.

‘Are you truly as cold-blooded as that, Miss Cameron?’ His green eyes narrowed as if he was listening for an answer and Amethyst was simply caught in the unexpected warmth of them. Paralysed. The darker green rim was threaded with gold.

‘So there is no more to this agreement than the plain and blunt terms of commerce?’ He let her go as she twisted away, uncertain of the words that he was saying and even more uncertain of her own reaction to them.

‘If my father had not been ailing, I should not even be thinking of a betrothal, my lord, but he is fearful and fidgety and the doctor had made it clear that unless he relaxes and stops worrying...’ She swallowed, her bottom lip wobbling. ‘Your estate is falling into pieces about your feet and my father is dying. Our alliance should stave off the consequences of them both, yours for ever, and mine even for just a while. A business proposition, my lord, to suit us both.’

* * *

He turned away and walked to the window. No woman had ever spoken to him so plainly before. Usually the opposite sex fawned about him, the wiles of femininity well practised and honed and saying all that they thought he wished to hear.

Miss Amethyst Amelia Cameron seemed to possess none of these qualities and he was at a loss to know how to proceed.

‘So I could have been anyone?’

When she did not answer, he added, ‘Anyone with a dubious fiscal base and a strong military background?’

She looked over at him then with the directness that was so much part of her, a frown marring her forehead. ‘You needed to be unmarried, of course, and not too old.’ He was about to speak when she took a breath and carried on further. ‘I also sincerely hope that I have not taken you from the arms of someone you love, for if that is the case I should absolve you from all the agreements between us. As a measure of good faith we would throw in the greys as a means to buy your silence on such a sensitive matter.’

He swore again and she flinched. The worth of the greys would not begin to cover the debts of Montcliffe.

‘Why did you not choose a man you have some tendre for or one you had at least some notion of?’ While she was being so brutally frank he thought he might at least discover something of the woman he would be tied to.

Her hand went to brush away the hair from around her face in a feminine and uncertain gesture. Against the window and in the light of a harsh afternoon sun she looked almost beautiful, a strong loveliness that was not much lauded in society these days, but one which caught at him in an unexpected twist of want. Not a woman of the same ilk as his sisters and mother with their constant neediness and fragility.

‘There is no one else.’ She did not even attempt platitudes.

Daniel had no experience of speaking with a woman who would not be cowed by his title or by him personally and for one unlikely moment he thought he might tell her just that. With an effort he gathered himself together.

‘Truth be told, Miss Cameron, I am caught in this ruse as certainly as you are.’