The Bride's Seduction

Justin pulled up and handed her the reins. ‘Here you are. One horse and a plain snaffle bit, so only two reins, which you hold like so...no, thumb here. We will leave the whip for a later date.’

‘Oh. Good,’ Marina said fervently, already feeling that her hands were rather too full of things and nervously aware that she could feel Smoke mouthing the bit.

‘Just keep contact with his mouth. Perfect, now shake the reins slightly and click your tongue. You can say “walk on” if you like.’

One grey ear swivelled back and Marina laughed. ‘He is listening. Walk on, Smoke.’ If the cob took exception to a rather overenthusiastic shake of the reins, he showed no sign of it, pacing off down the long drive. Marina, hardly daring to take her eyes off the ground in front, exclaimed, ‘I am driving!’

‘Certainly you are driving. Now, relax your hands and your arms or Smoke will think there is something to worry about.’ Beside her Justin turned so that his left arm was behind her and he could take the right rein out of her hand. ‘Put your hand over mine and feel how relaxed I keep my fingers. Go on, Mari.’

Tentatively she did as she was told, shaken by the close proximity of his body. It is no worse than waltzing, she chided herself, feeling how loose his grasp on the rein was. ‘I see.’ Justin handed her back the rein, turning to sit straight in the seat again, and she felt a little pang at the loss of the contact.

‘What do I do now?’

‘Go down this drive to the next bend, then turn right.’

‘How?’

‘Tighten your fingers on the right rein. I will tell you when.’

And by some miracle it worked. Marina spent a happy hour guiding the old cob round and round Green Park at a steady walk, glowing with Justin’s praises and blissfully unaware that if any of his friends had seen him they would have assumed he was fit only for Bedlam.

At last he pried the reins from her fingers and took them home. Marina sat flexing her shoulders which were surprisingly stiff and asked, ‘May I trot tomorrow?’

‘Tomorrow?’

‘Oh, I am sorry, I spoke without thinking, it is too much to expect you to let me drive two days running.’ How mortifying, to have presumed on Justin’s good nature in such a way. He was a busy man, he had told her so, and he was only doing this for some whim of kindness.

‘Not at all, you may certainly trot tomorrow; I thought you might have been bored.’ His questioning glance was so open that she smiled back without constraint.

‘I am enjoying it so much. The driving and your company. You see, I never had a male friend before. I suppose it is one of the benefits of being out of the Marriage Mart—one does not have to consider those stuffy conventions so much any more.’

‘You see me as a friend?’ She tried to fathom any meaning behind the question. ‘Why?’

‘Because I trust you and it is easy to talk to you.’ The gig drew up outside the house and Marina hopped down before Justin could assist her. ‘Would you care to come in and take tea? I can ask a footman to come and hold Smoke.’

The door opened before he answered her and Charlie emerged, setting his fashionable hat at a rakish angle on his head. ‘Good God, Mortenhoe, what are you doing in that rig?’

‘Teaching me to drive, Charlie. Is that not kind of Lord Mortenhoe?’

‘Dashed good of him. Look, old chap, there was something I wanted to discuss if you have a moment, only I’m on my way to the club.’

‘Step up, I’ll drive you. Thank you, Miss Winslow, I will take up your kind offer on another occasion. The same time tomorrow?’

Marina agreed and stood watching with glee as her brother climbed reluctantly into the unfashionable vehicle and was driven off.

Justin regarded Winslow’s efforts to pull his hat low enough to render himself unrecognisable. ‘I will drop you off in a minute if you like. What did you want to say to me?’

‘Only to ask how it was going with my sister. The driving’s a dashed good idea, I must say.’

‘I thought so, and Miss Winslow seems to enjoy it. The only trouble is, I am not sure it will achieve much.’

‘Why not? Alone together, lots of opportunities to hold hands, not a chaperon in sight. Damn it, man, if you can’t make love to her under those circumstances, I don’t know what it would take.’

‘Miss Winslow considers me to be a friend. I am sure she thinks of me in no other light. If I start to flirt with her now, she is going to take me for a complete coxcomb.’ And Marina’s good opinion of him was something, Justin realised, that he valued.

‘Hell!’ Charlie lapsed into thought. ‘Leave it to me, I’ll see what Mama advises. Look, can you drop me off here, I can see some chaps I know coming.’

With a grin Justin pulled up to let Winslow escape before he was spotted and drove home, wondering what hare-brained ploy Charlie was going to come up with.

Marina recounted the tale of her first driving lesson at dinner, much to Lizzie’s wide-eyed interest. ‘Has he wonderful horses? A whole team? Did you canter?’

‘No, Lizzie, one steady cob and I walked around Green Park.’ Marina regarded her sister tolerantly. ‘You would have been bored to tears.’

‘I’m sure I would! When I come out I will be driven everywhere in the greatest style by all my beaux, you wait and see.’

‘If you cannot speak in a more modest and becoming manner, young lady, you will not be joining us for dinner again,’ her mother interjected frowning. ‘I had thought you old enough, but now I wonder if I was wrong. You may go to your room directly after dessert.’

When a sulky Elizabeth had trailed off to her room, Lady Winslow swept Marina into the drawing room and patted the sofa beside her. ‘I am glad of the opportunity to talk to you alone, dear. Now, you know Charlie is selling Knightshaye to Lord Mortenhoe? Well, the dear boy has a clever scheme to put the money in trust for Giles’s education, Lizzie’s come-out and my comfortable retirement to the Dower House. He has spoken to me very openly about his rather regrettable tendency to gamble and has hit upon this way of keeping the money safe for all of us. Now, is that not good news?’

It was, but there was an unpleasant hollowness in Marina’s stomach. ‘And what are his plans for me, Mama?’

‘He thought you would be living with me at the Dower House.’ The hollowness turned into an icy hole. ‘But I thought of something much better.’

With a rush of relief Marina stammered, ‘I can stay here and keep house for Charlie?’

‘Goodness, no, child! What are you thinking of? You are far too young to be keeping house for a bachelor brother in London of all places, and we could never afford a chaperon for you. No, I will have Lizzie’s companionship for a year or two until her come-out, so you would be much better employed with Aunt Maria.’

‘Great-aunt Maria in Bath? But she never goes out.’

‘Exactly. Poor creature, stuck in a gloomy house with only that cantankerous creature Cousin Phillipa for company and a pack of smelly lapdogs—you will do her good. Read to her, go for walks when she ventures out in her chair, generally make yourself useful.’ Lady Winslow smiled benignly at her elder daughter. ‘I know how you like to feel useful, Marina dear.’

It was a prison sentence, the punishment for the crime of failing to marry, meted out by those she loved in the cheerful belief that it was all for the best. Marina bit down the angry words that rose in her throat, the pleas to have this decision reconsidered. After all, what else was she fit for at twenty-six? Her family was too well bred, too respectable, for her to escape into the only genteel occupation that she might espouse—that of governess.

There was one hope. ‘But do you not need me to teach Giles?’

‘I think he is too old now for female tuition, dear. He is becoming a little wild. The Vicar is taking one or two other local boys of good family for tuition and Giles will do well with him, I am sure.’

‘When? When are we leaving London?’ How much longer did she have to walk freely with her maid, to visit Priscilla, to shop, to explore the lending libraries? How much longer to enjoy the company of her new friend and to learn to drive, a skill that would become immediately useless in Bath?

‘I think in about six weeks, if Charlie’s negotiations with Lord Mortenhoe are successful.’

Somehow Marina managed a tranquil face for the rest of the evening and through the next, interminable, morning. Neither her brother nor mother commented on the dark circles under her eyes, although Lizzie, with typical tactlessness, announced that she looked positively haggard and wondered loudly what could have kept her from sleeping. Without Priscilla’s attentions and finery—for her friend was engaged for the day with relatives of her husband—Marina felt that her appearance for her next driving lesson left something to be desired, although at least she could now breathe without Pris’s severe tight lacing.

Or she could if it were not for the lump of leaden misery that seemed lodged under her diaphragm.

Justin was prompt again, and her spirits could not help but be lightened simply by his company and the stimulation of their progress through the crowded streets. Marina made conversation and flattered herself that her self-control was equal to the occasion.

Then Justin put the reins in her hands just inside the park gate and pointed to a grove of trees. ‘Just walk over there, get used to the reins again.’ He was silent as they approached it, other than to say, ‘Circle around to the back.’ When they reached the little clearing the trees enclosed, deserted of all walkers, he took the reins back, tied them round the whip stand and clasped both her hands in his.

‘What is wrong, Mari?’ She shook her head. ‘No, do not try and tell me nothing is wrong, I can see it in your eyes. Who has hurt you? As your friend, I must either call him out or at least land him a punch on the jaw.’

It was said humorously, but the gentle expression in his eyes and the warmth of his hands clasping hers was almost too much for her self-possession. ‘You cannot.’ She struggled to find a humorous tone to match his. ‘It was only something Mama told me and you most certainly must not punch her.’

‘Tell me.’

Why can he not pretend everything is well? Marina realised that she was within an inch of blurting it all out and bit her lip hard. She looked at Justin and forced a smile as she shook her head. His eyes were hard and green and she realised he was angry.

‘Is it because of me?’

‘The driving lessons? Oh, no, Mama and Charlie seem quite sanguine about those, they hardly asked me about them.’ For some reason that did not seem to quench the angry colour.

‘Then what? Tell me, Mari, it matters to me.’

Shaken, she stammered, ‘When Charlie has the money from the sale of Knightshaye he will set up a trust for Mama and Giles and Lizzie.’

‘And you will live with Lady Winslow and Miss Elizabeth?’

‘I wanted to stay here and keep house for Charlie, but Mama says that is quite ineligible. So then I thought I would be living at the Dower House with her, but she thinks she would not need me...that I would be of more use with Great-aunt Maria in Bath.’

‘And do I deduce that will be no treat?’

Marina nodded. ‘She is very reclusive and lives with Cousin Phillipa, who is rather cross, and many lapdogs. Mama thinks I can read to her.’

‘And how long will this last?’

‘Until she dies, I suppose. And then Cousin Phillipa will need me, I expect.’

‘Oh, Mari, poor love, that sounds hellish.’

‘Please stop being sympathetic, you will make me cry.’ She sniffed resolutely. ‘I can manage if I do not feel sorry for myself.’ Before she could protest, Marina found herself enfolded in Justin’s arms and held against his chest.

It felt wonderful. Strong, safe and remarkably comfortable. Marina snuggled closer into Justin’s shirt front and let out a sigh of relief as though she had escaped from a pursuing beast and had found sanctuary. His arms were around her quite tightly, but she had no instinct to struggle. One-handed he appeared to have removed her bonnet and was stroking her hair soothingly while he murmured something unintelligible into it.

Then the feeling of overwhelming peace began to change subtly into something unsettling, something that made her pulse quicken and the heat come into her face. She was aware of his warmth and the scent of him: clean, somehow spicy and definitely male. His heart was beating under her cheek and the soft linen seemed suddenly as sensuous as skin against her own flesh. She realised that her hands had slipped around his body under his coat, her palms were braced against hard muscle and that she was touching a man in a way utterly different from the hugs she exchanged with her brothers.

Slowly she disentangled herself and sat up on the seat of the gig, looking at Justin for reassurance and meeting green eyes that were anything but angry.

Chapter Six

Justin looked into the wide, troubled grey eyes and cursed inwardly. Cursed the Winslows for distressing Mari so much, cursed himself for the urge that filled him to take her in his arms again and kiss that soft mouth with its parted lips. No need to wonder now whether she was capable of passion—he could read it, all unawakened in that innocent gaze and the trembling of her body as he had held it against his.

Her mother had set out for her the fate that awaited the surplus, unwed daughter, confident it would propel her into his arms when he proposed to her. She had not realised, he imagined, just how much she would hurt Marina and just how rapidly she would find herself in that embrace.

And now was most definitely not the moment to make a proposal. She would imagine he was doing it out of pity and he had no desire that she accept him out of desperation. A lifetime was rather too long for regrets.

‘I am not going to cry.’ She said it with a determination that tugged at his heart, sitting upright on the seat and jamming her bonnet on her head with scant regard for her curls.

‘Are you not? You may, if you like. I have a large and clean handkerchief somewhere.’

That produced a choke of amusement and a quizzical look. It seemed the moment of physical awareness had passed. ‘Really? Charlie hated it if Lizzie or I cried when we were younger. Lizzie still does when she cannot get her own way and Charlie positively runs out of the room. Mama says that all men are the same.’

Justin grinned and picked up the reins. Smoke swivelled an ear back and then dropped his head again when no command to move came. ‘I had always assumed that it would be an excellent opportunity to flirt—beautiful young lady weeps daintily into a lace-edged handkerchief, I make soothing noises...’

This time Marina laughed out loud. ‘I suspect there are very few young ladies who can produce just one or two dainty tears. I certainly cannot. I end up with red eyes and a red nose—no wonder Charlie runs away.’

‘You are very brave to reveal these horrid details.’ Justin shook the reins and Smoke woke up and began to walk round the edge of the grove.

‘Why not? You are my friend and will not be so unkind as to tease me about it.’

‘No, I would not tease you.’ He hesitated, uncertain as to how much he dare hint. ‘Do not be too cast down by what your mother said; things may change, other opportunities may open up.’

‘You are kind to try to cheer me up, but I will do better to resign myself, I think.’ She gave a little shiver and he fought back the urge to put his arm around her again. ‘But I cannot spoil this drive. May I take the reins—and will you let me trot today?’

Days passed and nothing more was said about Great-aunt Maria and the Bath scheme for her future. Marina let herself hope that perhaps the old lady had rejected the idea, or that Mama had thought better of it, but then, after two weeks, Charlie mentioned it over Sunday luncheon and the hope withered.

Resolutely Marina pushed the thought to the back of her mind, feeling like a prisoner who has a few weeks of freedom before being sent to their cell. It would be wicked to spoil these last days of liberty anticipating what was to come.

She saw Justin almost every day for a driving lesson and she could now take the paths of Green Park at a spanking trot, turning corners with confidence and even passing through narrow openings without having to close her eyes in anticipation of the crash.

Occasionally he dined with them in Cavendish Square, but Marina found herself resenting the formality this imposed on their conversation. The strange feelings of confusion and awareness she had felt when he had held her that day had turned into something different, an ache when she thought about him, an excitement when she saw him, a warm glow of happiness when they were together. It was certainly very different, being friends with a gentleman.

On a Tuesday towards the end of the month, Justin apologised for not being able to take her driving the next afternoon. ‘I am sorry, but I promised to try out a hunter a friend wishes to sell and the only time we could arrange it is tomorrow afternoon.’

‘Of course, you must do just as you wish,’ Marina protested. ‘It is so good of you to let me drive so often.’

‘Not at all. Would you care to drive in Hyde Park the day after?’

‘Yes, please—if you think I would not disgrace you.’ She turned a teasing smile on him. ‘Are you sure your credit will stand you being seen as a passenger in a gig being driven by a mere female?’

‘It certainly will not,’ Justin replied so seriously that for a moment she thought he was in earnest. ‘Which is why I thought you might like to drive a phaeton.’

‘Truly? A high-perch phaeton and your bays?’

‘No! A low-perch and a pair of very steady roans. But still smart enough for you to cut a dash if you wish to let your friends know where you will be at three o’clock.’

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