He shook his head. Although he knew that it was a problem that would have to be faced sooner or later, just for the moment he did not want to think of it.
But even if the problem of Letitia was solved, he knew there were other problems facing him. Although he had realised he was in love with Madeline he did not know what her feelings were for him.
She was afraid of marriage, that much he had discovered. To begin with, he had thought she was simply afraid of men, and had thought that was a natural result of having been Gareth Delaware’s ward. But he had come to realise it was more than that; she was afraid of marriage itself. But why? That was the question he could not answer.
What had her parents’ marriage been like? he wondered. Had it been warm and loving, as the marriage of his own parents had been? Or had it been cold and hard? He had no way of knowing. But what he did know was that he must show her just how fulfilling and rewarding a marriage could be if he was going to have a chance to win her hand, not just as a temporary arrangement, but for ever.
And here he had an advantage: time and circumstances were on his side. He was already married to Madeline, at least in name, and he knew that she had begun to enjoy herself as his wife. He had seen her start to relax in his company, despite the fact that they often crossed swords, and he had watched her bloom and blossom into a confident young woman.
And then he thought of the other sides of marriage. He knew that she had physical feelings for him, although he suspected that she herself did not yet understand them. She had led a knowing life in some ways, being exposed to her uncle’s crude and leering cronies, but in the matter of fulfilling physical feelings between a man and a woman she was a complete innocent. But he wanted her to experience them, and he wanted her to experience them with him.
He had a little over four months in which to teach her that marriage was to be enjoyed rather than feared, he realised.
He meant to make the most of them.
Chapter Eleven
‘At last!’ Philip smiled, then gave the letter he had been reading to Madeline. ‘Emma is over her cold. She will be here at the end of next week.’
Madeline picked up the letter and read it with pleasure. It seemed she was finally going to meet her sister-in-law.
She had had some qualms about imposing on Emma’s credibility, but Philip had seemed unconcerned. He had told her that she was not deceiving anyone: that she really was his wife; that she was in fact Emma’s sister-in-law; and therefore need have no guilty conscience about being introduced as such.
At last Madeline had come to see it from Philip’s point of view. She was indeed the Countess of Pemberton, and as she did not want Emma to be burdened with a true account of their marriage, she felt it was better to do as Philip suggested, allowing Emma to enjoy meeting her new sister-in-law.
And Madeline was concerned that Emma should enjoy herself. She wanted to make sure that Emma’s time in Yorkshire was happy. Indeed, if she had really been Philip’s wife, his true wife, she would have suggested that Emma should come and live with them. But as she herself was only to be the mistress of the Manor until the end of December she could make no such suggestion, much as she would have liked to do so.
She was just about to hand the letter back to Philip when she heard a carriage drawing up in front of the Manor. She was surprised, as she was not expecting anyone. But perhaps it was Clarissa. Handing Philip the letter she went to the window to see who their guest might be. The carriage come to a halt, the door opened, the step was let down . . . and out of it came Letitia Bligh. As Madeline watched, Letitia straightened up. The elegant young woman regarded the Manor with a proprietorial air before opening her fashionable parasol. Then, sheltering her flawless complexion from the summer sun, she walked up to the front door.
Following her at a distance of some five or six paces was her mousy companion.
Madeline froze. She did not know why, but for some reason she had not expected to see Letitia at the Manor. And yet why not? Letitia had every right to be there; more right, if truth be told, than Madeline herself.
In another minute the door opened and Crump announced, ‘Miss Bligh.’
Letitia was the epitome of fashionable elegance as she swept into the room, her willowy figure displaying her silk carriage dress with its exquisite lace trimmings to great advantage.
‘Philip!’ Letitia greeted Philip in beautifully modulated tones. She crossed the room towards him, completely ignoring Madeline, and took his arm, kissing him on the cheek. ‘I am just on my way to stay with friends in Scotland, and as the carriage had to pass so close by the Manor I could not resist the idea of calling to see you on the way.’
‘Letitia.’ Philip returned her greeting.
‘And Madeline,’ said Letitia, at last deigning to notice Madeline. ‘It is delightful to see you again.’ She put her free hand firmly on Philip’s arm as she spoke and smiled at Madeline with a tigress’s smile - making sure, however, that Philip did not see it.
Madeline greeted Letitia coolly.
Philip invited Letitia to sit down, but she looked out of the window and said, ‘It is such a pleasant day, and I have been sitting for so long in the carriage. Can we not take a stroll?’
‘If you wish,’ he replied.
Taking a stroll with Letitia and Philip, watching them laughing and talking together was the last thing Madeline wanted to do, but for the sake of politeness it could not be avoided.
As they left the Manor, Philip offered one arm to Madeline and the other to Letitia.
‘And how are you enjoying your time at the Manor?’ Letitia asked Madeline, as they strolled along the gravel paths that surrounded the Manor.
‘I am enjoying it very well,’ said Madeline, feeling ill at ease. Letitia was somehow managing to remind her of the temporary nature of her marriage to Philip by talking of “your time at the Manor”, whilst seeming to be doing nothing more than making polite conversation.
‘And Emma is soon to join you, I understand,’ Letitia continued. ‘How tiresome you will find it, having a young girl dogging your footsteps and demanding to be taken out and about. You must be firm with her, and make her realise you will stand no nonsense.’
‘I don’t believe I will find it tiresome,’ remarked Madeline. She was looking forward to the young girl’s visit, having heard a great deal about her from Philip, and hoped to make her feel at home.
‘Really?’ Letitia laughed. ‘I think you will be surprised. Girls of that age think of nothing but parties and expect their elders and betters to escort them to every provincial amusement, no matter how inconvenient it may be. They should be kept in the nursery, in my opinion, like the children they really are, and not let out until they are of marriageable age. Do you not think so, Philip?’ she asked, turning her face up to his.
‘If you say so,’ he replied.
Letitia seemed satisfied with his reply, but to Madeline it had seemed wooden. Letitia and Philip had different ideas where Emma - and any other children - were concerned, it seemed.
Still, it was nothing to do with her. And so she firmly reminded herself.
Letitia, clearly feeling she had wasted enough time on Madeline, turned her attention to Philip and started regaling him with stories about people who, though known to Letitia and Philip, were completely unknown to Madeline.
They walked as far as the ha-ha, a clever contrivance which took the form of a deep ditch separating the lawns from the park beyond. The ha-ha ensured that the sheep and deer which grazed in the park did not invade the gardens and eat the carefully cultivated plants. It was so much better than a wall or fence, thought Madeline appreciatively, as, excluded from the conversation, she turned her attention to the landscape. A wall or fence would obscure the view, but the ha-ha allowed the view to continue uninterrupted for as far as the eye could see.
‘Oh, my! It’s so lovely here!’ said Letitia’s timid companion.
‘Have you been to Yorkshire before?’ asked Madeline kindly, engaging the elde
rly lady in conversation.
‘Oh, yes!’ she said, going pink and looking flustered at being spoken to so politely by a countess. ‘But it is not all as pretty as this!’
When they again walked on, Madeline took the opportunity of pointing out the various views to Letitia’s companion, and in this way she gave herself a reason to let go of Philip’s arm and walk ahead with the elderly spinster. Slowly but surely, Letitia and Philip dropped further and further behind them. Madeline was glad. She was not comfortable in their company, and as she could not very well go back to the house without seeming rude, this was the best solution. It spared her from being a third party in their conversation whilst preserving the niceties.
Philip felt the loss of Madeline’s hand on his arm immediately. He listened to Letitia without hearing anything she said, and was instead absorbed in watching Madeline. She looked very becoming in her layered white muslin gown, with her blue satin slippers and a blue ribbon threaded through her hair.
‘. . . the Regent has always had a soft spot for him, but if he is not careful, Brummell will one day overstep the mark - you’re not listening to me, Philip,’ said Letitia, realising that it was so.
‘Hm?’ Philip, recalled to the conversation, apologised. ‘You were saying?’ he asked, reluctantly giving her his attention.
‘I was saying that Brummell has been getting careless recently, and has made one or two remarks that the Regent has not quite liked. But you are not interested in Brummell’s latest mots, bon or otherwise. And it’s easy to see why.’ Letitia glanced at Madeline.
‘Letitia,’ he began. He had been wanting to speak to her about their future, or lack of it, ever since he had realised he was in love with Madeline but as she had been travelling he had not had an opportunity to do so. Her visit, however, had provided him with the chance he needed, and now that her flow of conversation had come to an end he knew he must speak.
To his surprise, however, before he could say any more, Letitia held up her hand. ‘Don’t tell me.’ She gave a bright smile. ‘Let me guess.’
Philip was so surprised that he said nothing.
With perfect good humour Letitia said, ‘You are distracted because you have realised you can’t go ahead and marry me. You have fallen in love with Madeline, and you find that a marriage of convenience with me is no longer what you want. But you are too much of a gentleman to feel comfortable about going back on our agreement, even though it was not binding on either of us - which, as I recall, was my doing and not yours.’
Philip looked at her in amazement. ‘How did you know?’ he asked.
She smiled winningly. ‘It is obvious. At least, it is obvious to someone who knows you as well as I do.’
He looked at her curiously. ‘And do you not mind?’ He was surprised as he took in her clear eyes and her understanding smile. ‘I know how much you wanted to be a countess, Letitia. I thought you would be angry, and yet you seem to be taking it very well.’
She gave a shrug of her elegant shoulders. ‘What other way is there to take it? There was never any formal agreement between us and besides, you are already married to Madeline. I can’t force you to annul the marriage. If I created a scene it would make no difference; it wouldn’t change anything. You would still be Madeline’s husband and she would still be your wife. And so I wish you happy.’ She looked ahead to Madeline. ‘She is a delightful young woman. You have made a good choice.’
Philip’s eyes, too, went to Madeline. In doing so they missed the gleam of pure hatred that darted suddenly from Letitia’s eye.
‘Yes. I have made a good choice,’ he said softly. ‘And it is generous of you to admit it.’
‘I hope that we may still be friends,’ she said with a show of frankness. ‘We will have to meet each other at social gatherings and I would not like there to be any awkwardness between us. I wish you well, Philip, and hope you will wish me the same.’
He nodded. ‘I do.’
‘Then let us go and join the others. They will be beginning to wonder where we are.’
She took his arm and, walking more briskly, they soon caught up with Madeline and Miss Wilkes.
‘This has been a perfect break in our journey,’ said Letitia. ‘It is so good to see friends. But now I believe we must be going. We are to dine with the Rotherdales this evening and if we don’t leave soon we will be late.’
They made their farewells, and before long Letitia’s carriage was once more on its way.
‘Did you enjoy yourself with Miss Wilkes?’ asked Philip genially as he went back inside with Madeline.
‘She was very pleasant,’ said Madeline politely.
‘Good.’
‘And – did you enjoy your time with Miss Bligh?’ she asked nonchalantly.
‘Yes. Very much.’
‘Oh.’
Her voice held a hint of dejection.
Just for a moment he wondered whether he should tell her that his understanding with Letitia was at an end but then he decided against it. If he told her that he no longer wanted to marry Letitia then, given her fear of marriage, she would feel vulnerable and may be afraid of becoming trapped. He wanted her to love him as much as he loved her before revealing to her the true nature of his feelings for her. When that time came he would tell her his arrangement with Letitia was over, and not before.
Madeline looked around Emma’s room, making sure that everything was ready. A vase of fresh flowers stood on the dressing table; the windows were open, letting in the balmy breeze; and the room was freshly cleaned and polished. All it needed now was its occupant. And she should be arriving at any time.
Madeline was in the garden when Emma finally arrived. As the young girl stepped out of the carriage Madeline caught her first glimpse of her sister-in-law.
How good it would have been to welcome Emma to the house if she had really been its mistress, its permanent mistress, she thought. Having no family herself, Madeline was glad to find herself with a sister, even if it was only for a few months, and went lightly down the steps to welcome Emma.
Emma was a slight girl of sixteen years old; a schoolgirl, but one who was just emerging from that phase of life. Her figure was slim and delicate as yet, but it was just beginning to show signs of curves. Even so, Madeline could quickly see why she had found Emma’s dresses so tight and uncomfortable when she had borrowed them for a while in London!
As well as a slight figure, Emma had a good humoured countenance and a pretty face, with dark hair tousled by the journey and bright amber eyes. Her features were not as harsh as Philip’s, but still bore the unmistakable Rochdale stamp.
‘Emma!’ Madeline greeted the young girl with open arms.
‘Madeline! How lovely to meet you at last! Oh, I knew I should like you, and I do! I have been telling Philip we would get along all the way from the inn. And was it not good of the Greys to bring me so far, for I’m sure it was out of their way?’
Emma had been brought as far as the neighbouring town by her friendly Bath neighbours, the Greys, who had been going to visit relatives in the Lake District. They had been delighted to bring the young girl most of the way in their carriage, and she had then been collected by Philip from the nearest inn.
‘It was very kind of them,’ said Madeline, as she gave Emma a hug.
Much of Madeline’s reserve had left her since meeting Philip, and it now seemed natural to her to greet a new acquaintance, especially one she knew so much about, with open arms, instead of with hesitancy and suspicion.
‘Your room’s all ready for you,’ said Madeline as she and Emma went into the house, closely followed by Philip. ‘Would you like to rest after your journey?’
‘I am tired of resting,’ said Emma.
‘You’re looking a little pale,’ said Philip protectively, as he took in Emma’s countenance with a brotherly eye.
‘Only because I have been cooped up inside for the past two weeks with a cold, when really I only needed to be cooped up for two days.’ She turne
d to Madeline. ‘Everyone is so used to me being delicate they will fuss over me, and Philip is the same.’ Her sweet smile took any rancour out of her words, and Madeline found herself sympathising with the girl.
‘Sometimes too much attention can be as bad as not enough,’ she agreed.
‘You understand,’ cried Emma. She turned to Philip mischievously. ‘You see, I told you she would!’
Philip laughed. ‘You, miss, are well on the way to becoming a minx. However, if you promise to tell me if ever you feel unwell, I promise not to fuss over you. You can ride in the grounds and swim in the river to your heart’s content.’
Emma gave him an impulsive kiss and they all moved into the drawing-room.
Madeline rang for tea, and whilst they drank and ate, Emma regaled them with an account of her journey and her plans for her visit. Apart from going to see everyone she knew on the estate she was longing to go riding over the moors, and to climb her favourite trees, as well as hoping that Madeline would take her round the fashionable shops in York. She was halfway between a girl and a woman, and her interests – riding and tree climbing on the one hand, and shopping and novels on the other – reflected the transition.
After an enjoyable tea the three of them took a stroll in the grounds, with Philip giving one arm to Madeline and the other to Emma, before returning to the house. Emma, tired after her journey and her exciting day, bid Madeline and Philip a good night, whereupon Madeline and Philip repaired to the drawing-room and companionably discussed the day’s events.
‘How delicate is Emma?’ asked Madeline, concerned to know as much as she could about her sister-in law.
Philip thought. ‘As a child she always had something wrong with her: mumps, measles, coughs, colds and sore throats. Everything a child can have, Emma had.’
‘And now?’
Philip thought. ‘She still has the odd complaint, but I think there is something in what she says – she does tend to be fussed over. If she had not had so many childhood illnesses I would not now think of her as delicate. Why do you ask?’