He spoke slowly. ‘I had the distinct impression that Mrs Stratton’s need was acute. She tells me that her father is insisting that she return to live under his roof, and that she feels unable to comply.’ His took another mouthful of brandy. ‘She also implied that Lord Walton intended to marry her off to her cousin and that she had no desire to wed ever again. She seemed very distressed by the entire matter, which was one of the reasons why I offered my aid.’
Ross nodded. He hesitated. ‘It is certainly true that Deb is set against marriage. She was very unhappy with Neil Stratton. She has frequently expressed the view that she would rather starve than marry again. It seems a shame, but she is quite adamant.’ He gave Richard a look of acute perception. ‘I should warn you that there are matters there which are very painful to her.’ Ross looked away. ‘But that is Deb’s story to tell, not mine. Suffice it to say that I would have killed Stratton if the fever had not beaten me to it.’
Richard’s head snapped up sharply. ‘That bad?’
‘Worse.’ Ross took a moody sip of his drink. ‘The man was beneath contempt.’ He looked up again, his mouth a hard line. ‘And as such, he gave Deb such a disgust of men in general that I believe you will have your work cut out to make her change her mind and accept you in earnest.’
Richard frowned. ‘You do not think that I could persuade her?’
Ross looked rueful. ‘I cannot say for sure, but I feel it only fair that you should be forewarned.’
‘Deborah is not in a strong position to oppose her father alone,’ Richard said thoughtfully. ‘She needs some protection. I understand that her husband left her without much substance?’
‘Penniless,’ Ross confirmed. His mouth thinned. ‘Though that was the least of his sins.’
Richard grimaced at the confirmation. It was no wonder that Deb Stratton was wary of men if her only experience of love had been with a man like that. The memory of the unhappiness he had seen in her eyes made him feel angry.
‘So Mrs Stratton is dependent on the allowance her father makes her and…’ he looked at Ross shrewdly ‘…your generosity, I suspect.’
Ross shifted in his chair. ‘I help her a little.’
Richard let that pass. He knew that Ross’s liberality to his sister-in-law was likely to be far greater than that but his friend would not thank him for prying.
‘I know that you cannot like this temporary arrangement, Ross,’ he said feelingly. ‘God knows, if it was my sister Bella or Henrietta, I would feel much the same.’ He looked up and gave Ross a very straight look. ‘I can only give you my word that I shall do nothing to hurt Deborah.’ He smiled wryly. ‘My intentions are all that is honourable, damnable as it is for a rake to admit such a fact!’
Ross moved the decanter in a precise circle. ‘I wish you luck,’ he said, a little bitterly. ‘And if you succeed, I hope that you find more joy in your marriage than I have in mine. How odd that Deb and Olivia look so very similar and yet temperamentally they could not be more different.’
Richard hesitated. He sensed that Ross needed to talk but in his experience, passing comment on another man’s wife was fraught with danger. One always said the wrong thing and gave offence. He was prepared to take a risk though, for Olivia and Ross. If there was anything that he could do to help their situation, then he was willing to try.
‘I think that both Lady Marney and Mrs Stratton may have some of the same spirit,’ he said carefully.
Ross looked horrified. ‘Good God, do you think so?’
‘I did not mean,’ Richard qualified hastily, ‘that Lady Marney is as impulsive as her sister.’
‘Thank the lord!’
‘But from something that Mrs Stratton told me, I do believe that it may be a question of Lady Marney hiding her real feelings under what she sees as her duty. Parents are notoriously more strict with the elder than the younger daughter,’ Richard continued, feeling his way and half-expecting an explosion at any moment. ‘I have seen it myself with Bella and Henrietta. Bella always complained that Henrietta could get away with everything and she with nothing.’
Ross looked intrigued. ‘You mean that Olivia might behave the way she does because Lord and Lady Walton expected it of her and so she conformed?’
Richard nodded. ‘Precisely, old fellow. Deborah told me that Olivia and her brothers always did as they were told and never dissented, whilst she was the rebel. How would it be if Olivia secretly wished it to be different?’
He saw a flash of expression in Ross’s eyes, the unmistakable sign that Viscount Marney thought the idea of a secretly rebellious wife to be rather fascinating.
‘By George!’ Ross said. ‘What a thought!’
Richard hid his smile. Ross Marney had always had a short fuse, but in other respects he was steady, reliable and the antithesis of a rake. Who would have guessed that he wished for a show of spirit from his bride rather than cool compliance? Certainly Olivia was unlikely to have known. Most young ladies of aristocratic lineage were told that their husbands would expect conformity, not originality. It took a rebel like Deborah to break through those restraints and tell the world to go hang.
‘Thank you for your tolerance in the matter of my betrothal to Mrs Stratton,’ Richard said now, his thought returning with warmth to his temporary fiancee. ‘I appreciate your support, Ross.’
‘What? Oh…’ Ross waved his hand vaguely. ‘You are very welcome, Richard.’
Richard could tell that his thoughts were still on Olivia and he had no idea what they were talking about. Smiling a little, he thanked his host, excused himself and showed himself out, noting with interest that Ross went straight to the card room, where Olivia was hosting her party, as though he wished to test Richard’s theory immediately. The night air held a chill edge of autumn and the faint scent of wood smoke. Richard breathed it in and realised that he felt more alive than he had done in months. No boredom dogged his steps now, no painted devil tempted him back to his old life and its debauchery.
He was to call on Deborah in the morning and discuss the details of their betrothal. His lips curved into a smile at the thought of seeing her again. So far matters were progressing with pleasing smoothness. He had persuaded Deb to give him a chance and he had gained Ross’s support for his suit. Now all he needed to do was to proceed gently towards his goal and make sure that he did not frighten Deb into reneging on the plan. He had to woo her carefully. He was sure it would be a pleasure. Whistling softly under his breath, Richard drove his hands into his pockets and walked off into the night.
As soon as they met the following morning, Richard could tell that he had given Deb too much time to think and that those thoughts were not positive. She was looking pale and nervous, and much of her natural good spirits seemed depressed. Richard had a horrid suspicion that she was about to call the entire betrothal off.
Remembering his resolution to woo her gently, he decided to proceed with the utmost caution. She might well be regretting her frankness the previous day and have her defences firmly in place. So instead of kissing her properly he kissed her hand with deference and allowed her to usher him into the drawing room. The house seemed very quiet. She did not send for a servant and poured his glass of sweet sherry herself. She was drinking a cup of tea, which she was gripping so tightly he feared the china would crack.
‘I have been thinking about this betrothal and I believe that we should change some of the terms,’ Deb began. From the faint violet shadows underneath her eyes Richard suspected that she might have been thinking about it all night. ‘This was not at all what I had planned. This is…’ she gestured a little wildly and the tea slopped ‘…becoming quite out of hand.’
Richard had been expecting something of the sort, but although he was prepared to be soothing he had no intention of allowing Deb to back out now. If he did there was no guarantee she would not end up asking some other gentleman to act the role of protector, and Richard disliked that thought intensely.
‘You cannot change your mind about the betrothal now,’ he said. ‘Last night I asked Ross’s permission to pay my addresses to you.’
Deb’s eyes flew to his face. She looked shocked. ‘Was that necessary?’
‘If I am to do this,’ Richard said, ‘I do it properly. As Ross was present at our meeting at the Custom House, I thought that he deserved a full explanation.’
‘Yes, but…’ Deb looked confused. ‘You told Ross the truth? About it being a temporary engagement?’
Richard made a split-second decision. ‘I explained the situation to him.’ He saw the relief vivid in her face and smiled ruefully to himself. Mrs Stratton’s reluctance to countenance his suit was not flattering. It had obviously not occurred to her that many young ladies would use this opportunity to persuade him into making the pretend
