Kitabı oku: «The Scandalous Suffragette», sayfa 4

Chapter Five

‘If this were thus, if this, indeed, were all...’

—Alfred, Lord Tennyson: ‘Love and Duty’ (1842)

‘You wish to know if I want to marry you for your money.’

Violet lifted her chin. ‘Yes.’

The sun gleamed through the window as Adam Beaufort made a low whistle. ‘That certainly is plain speaking, Miss Coombes.’

‘I don’t mean to be rude,’ Violet said quickly. She had no wish to offend him.

‘Not at all. Since you prefer plain speaking, let me be completely frank with you.’ He gave Violet a wry smile. ‘If you didn’t have a fortune, it would rather defeat the purpose of my proposal.’

Violet bit her lip. ‘Of course.’

How odd, she thought to herself. Part of her minded his admitting it. She pushed the sensation away. Of course her fortune was her attraction to him.

His smile disappeared as he spoke again. The youthfulness she’d noted earlier vanished. ‘If you will allow me to explain, there’s more you need to know. At the ball, we each spoke of our fathers. I told you then that my father, in contrast to yours, was not a hard-working man.’

Violet nodded. The philosophy of self-help was not embraced by everyone with the same enthusiasm as Reginald Coombes.

‘That’s an understatement,’ Adam went on. ‘My family, as you know, have a manor house in Kent. It requires a great deal of upkeep. For the past few years, I have watched it begin to disintegrate before my eyes.’

He moved away from her, his fists clenched. ‘I knew my father was letting the manor run down. The house itself, and the surrounding properties, where we have tenants who rely on us. Since my father’s death, I’ve discovered that isn’t the worst of it. The manor, and our house in London, have been mortgaged many times over. It isn’t merely that my father was not a good householder, Miss Coombes. He has lost all our family’s money and, worse, accrued debts of amounts that I can barely perceive. We are beyond being financially embarrassed. The Beaufort family is ruined.’

Violet gasped in shock. ‘How is that possible?’

‘Gambling.’ Adam said curtly. ‘The night I saw you on the balcony, I had been at a private meeting at my father’s club. The scene of the crime, so to speak.’

‘I thought you considered me the criminal that night,’ Violet commented with a smile, trying to lighten the moment. He looked so desperately burdened. Her heart gave a squeeze of sympathy.

‘Your actions were beyond the law, certainly. You were on private property. My property, if I can still call it that, considering the size of the mortgage on it. But I don’t consider you a criminal. You’re standing up for your beliefs.’ He smiled briefly. ‘Or climbing up for them, I should say.’

Violet chuckled, then grew serious. ‘So that night at the club...’

‘The night I encountered you on the balcony, I’d found out the extent of the damage. It was all quite civilised, over dinner and port. But that didn’t disguise the gravity of the situation. The gambling notes came out, with my father’s signature scrawled on them. He lost vast sums night after night at the card table. I was angry that it had been allowed to continue. But a gentleman’s word is his bond and my father had given his word that he was good for the money. On one of the gambling notes, he’d written “Beauley Manor.”’ A muscle moved in his cheek as he gritted his teeth. ‘Offered up as a gambling marker. Our family home.’

‘How dreadful for you.’ She couldn’t imagine discovering that her father had kept such secrets. It must have seemed as if Adam Beaufort hadn’t known his father at all. But that was how she had felt earlier, she recalled with a sting. Her father had apologised for being so harsh, yet nothing could take away Violet’s awful realisation that, all along, he’d wished she were a boy.

Adam gave a slight shrug. ‘I’ll admit, it was a most unpleasant experience. But Beauley Manor is my responsibility now, as are my mother and sisters. I had to do the honourable thing and face the truth about our family finances. It’s my duty.’

‘That’s how I feel about the Cause,’ said Violet. It wasn’t a fancy, or a whim that she could take or leave. It was her duty, too.

‘Then you understand,’ he said. ‘After some long discussions at the club I managed to convince my father’s creditors not to press the matter immediately. But I have very little time.’

‘So that’s why...’

‘I proposed to you.’ He exhaled. ‘We are both facing scandal, it seems. Perhaps because we’re in the same predicament is why I jumped to a solution. That we make a marriage of convenience.’

A marriage of convenience. She’d heard the phrase, but had never expected it to apply to her.

‘I trust I do not sound like an opportunist,’ he added.

‘“Opportunities fall in the way of everyone who is resolved to take advantage of them,”’ she quoted.

‘Samuel Smiles,’ he said.

‘You’ve read Self-Help?’ she asked, astonished.

‘Of course.’ He chuckled, rather grimly. ‘The Beaufort family currently need all the help they can get.’

Violet took a breath. ‘You love your family.’

‘Indeed.’

She did, too.

‘I can see the opportunity in your proposal,’ she said slowly, as her mind ticked. ‘For the good of both our families. But there is a difficulty.’

Adam Beaufort raised an eyebrow.

Violet hesitated. She’d never told anyone about her secret decision. Yet, oddly enough, she trusted him.

‘I have made a pledge not to marry,’ she said at last.

Adam drew back. ‘Never?’

Violet shook her head. ‘It’s not a pledge for life. I don’t intend to join a nunnery. I simply don’t wish to marry yet.’

‘Is there a particular reason you intend to wait?’

She bit her lip.

‘As I assured you at the ball, I can keep a secret,’ he said.

‘It’s for the Cause,’ she replied at last. ‘I wish to devote myself to it, entirely.’

Amazement was etched on his face. ‘The Cause means that much to you?’

‘It does.’

Adam whistled. ‘That’s quite a sacrifice.’

‘It is a sacrifice I’m willing to make.’ With resolve, she lifted her chin. ‘When I first heard about the Cause, I knew it was my calling to become a suffragette. Whatever needs to be done, I will do. I intend to dedicate myself to it until women have the vote.’

‘And when women have suffrage...’

She nodded crisply. ‘Only then will I consider marriage.’

He shook his head. ‘Women getting the vote could take years.’

‘Surely not years,’ Violet protested. ‘We will win our argument soon, I’m sure of it. Parliament will soon see the error of their ways in denying half the population of England the opportunity to contribute to our government. It cannot be more than a few years away.’

He raised an eyebrow. ‘I’m not so sure.’

She shrugged. ‘In any case, it is my decision. However many years it takes, for as long as women cannot vote, I will be no man’s wife.’

‘When did you make this decision?’ he asked.

‘When I became a suffragette. Three years ago.’

‘Do your parents know?’

‘No. I don’t mean to deceive them. When the suffragettes win the day, I will marry—I mean, I hope I will—and my parents will be none the wiser.’

He stepped closer. ‘Keeping such a secret must have been difficult.’

She was amazed by his insight. It had been lonely to know that she could not seek a partner in life, or tell the reason why.

‘It has been difficult. And I’ve not spoken of this matter to anyone before.’

He inclined his head. ‘I’m honoured by your trust, Miss Coombes.’

‘I wish to concentrate my energies.’ She was eager now to explain her reasoning. Growing up, she’d watched her mama unquestioningly devote herself to her husband and home. She loved her mother, but she didn’t want the same life. ‘Once women have a home and a family, they are not free to follow their own causes. They are under the rule of their husband.’

He frowned. ‘Not all husbands wish to rule their wives.’

Violet pressed her lips together. ‘A man owns his wife. I am determined that no man shall own me. The law, as it stands, gives a man dominion over a woman.’

The forked lines between his eyebrows deepened. ‘Marriage for women does not have to mean servitude.’

‘It may not,’ Violet agreed. Her parents had a happy marriage, after all. ‘Please do not mistake me. In marriage, there are bonds of love that bind a woman. When she becomes a wife and mother, her family becomes her greatest concern. I have no objection to that, when it comes.’

‘Unless it comes too soon,’ he said.

‘Exactly,’ she answered in relief. He’d grasped her meaning. ‘I’m not opposed to the institution of marriage. But I am certainly not looking for a husband. Not until women have the suffrage we deserve.’

‘Yet here you are in London, for the Season. There is a general view that during the Season a young woman is...’

Violet grimaced. ‘Husband hunting?’

He smiled, deepening the dent in his cheek. ‘Something like that.’

‘It’s my parents’ wish to move higher in society. There is the Royal Warrant my papa hopes for. It takes connections that we can only get in London. I’m here for my parents, not for myself. I am older than most debutantes, but this is the first year our family have had the right invitations.’

And now she had risked it all, she thought with remorse. A whiff of scandal and it would all disappear, and along with it her parents’ hopes and dreams.

‘You must have had suitors,’ he commented.

‘Only a few.’ Her lack of serious suitors was no cause for alarm to her, in the circumstances. In Manchester, the boys she’d grown up with were now too shy to approach her, thinking themselves no longer cut of her cloth. More moneyed London society hadn’t offered any alternatives.

Except for Adam Beaufort.

From the corner of her eye she studied him. She felt entirely at ease with him. He lacked the snobbery that she’d encountered so keenly at the ball. The way those Dowagers had laughed at her mama. It still made her fume.

‘Thus far I have managed to avert any serious interest,’ she said.

‘I’m surprised.’

‘Because of my fortune?’ she asked candidly. ‘My devotion to the Cause tends to be off-putting. Most gentlemen prefer women weak and helpless.’

He raised a brow. ‘Do they indeed?’

For a moment their eyes met.

Violet dropped her gaze first. ‘In any case, my situation has now changed. As you know, my father has forbidden me to continue as a suffragette and I can’t risk agitating him.’

‘Of course,’ Adam said swiftly. ‘I understand.’

‘You saw the problems with his health. My opportunity to support the Cause, limited as it was, has diminished considerably.’

Votes for women! So boldly her handmade banner had declared it. All that would be gone now, she thought, with another of those painful pangs. If she and her parents went back to Manchester, she would certainly be constrained from her deeds as a suffragette. She couldn’t risk her papa’s health worsening. What was it he had said? ‘No more of this suffragette nonsense!’ Those words hurt Violet as much as him wanting a son rather than a daughter. Being a suffragette wasn’t nonsense. It was about honour and justice.

It was about duty.

Adam put his hands together in a steeple. ‘Perhaps, Miss Coombes, my marriage offer may be convenient to you after all.’

‘How can marrying you be convenient?’ Violet blushed. ‘I’m sorry. I sound impolite again.’

Adam’s grin flashed. ‘I’m becoming accustomed to your frankness. Please. Do go on.’

‘I can see the benefits of the scheme for you,’ she mused, ‘in that your family’s current financial embarrassment would be remedied. But what do you offer me? I don’t mean your status in society. I know some people care for such things, but I don’t. I hope I haven’t offended you by saying so,’ she added hurriedly.

‘Not at all.’

‘There is simply no attraction for me in going to society functions, or being addressed in a certain way, or being bobbed to by all and sundry. I would find it quite irksome.’

He made a sound, somewhere between a chuckle and a cough.

‘I can’t deny that not having to face a scandal would be most welcome.’ Violet sighed. Her protest had gone so badly. The way she’d hurt her parents...it hurt her, too. ‘But surely the scandal will pass. I can live it down. There will be other scandals to take its place.’

‘The Beaufort scandal, for a start,’ he said grimly.

‘Oh, I didn’t mean your scandal,’ Violet said. ‘Although it’s not fair to think of it as your scandal. It isn’t your fault. Not in the slightest.’

He bowed. ‘It is my duty to fix it.’

‘It’s my duty to do what I can to fix what I have done, too.’

‘We both want to do our duty. Yet as you say, if it is to be a marriage of convenience, it must be convenient to us both. Hmm.’ Adam rubbed his hand along his chin. He was clean shaven. His skin was quite tanned against the crisp white of his collar, as if he spent a lot of time out of doors. ‘It does appear that the advantages of the match are mine more than yours. So much for an illustrious name. It’s all we have left and even that’s about to be dragged through the mud.’

So was the name Coombes. Not only her reputation, but the reputation of the family business was at stake.

‘Do you have anything else to bring to this...marriage of convenience?’ she queried, tentative. ‘If it’s not offensive to put it that way.’

‘You wanted plain speaking.’ He rubbed his chin again. ‘I’m afraid the family jewels went long ago and what is left of them adorn my mother.’

‘I’d never want your mother’s jewels,’ Violet said quickly. ‘In any case...’

‘Let me guess. You don’t care for them.’

‘Not much,’ she confessed.

‘Horses? At Beauley Manor we still have a reasonable stable. It’s not what it was, but we’ve kept some of the best horses.’

Violet thought of her riding lesson that morning. ‘I already ride a thoroughbred.’

‘Of course you do. Travel? I’ve been on a Grand Tour. I could accompany you to Europe. Show you Rome, Venice, Paris.’

‘I’ve been to Paris.’ Violet felt apologetic. ‘And we have a house in Venice. On the canal.’

He creased his brow in concentration. ‘Presenting you with a bouquet of flowers or tempting you with sweets, I suppose, is out of the question for the Coombes Chocolates heiress.’

‘I like flowers, but...’

‘You have a garden full of them.’

‘Fields,’ she admitted. ‘To make flavouring for the chocolate fillings.’

‘Fields of flowers. Factories of sweets.’ Unexpectedly, he grinned. ‘This is more difficult than I expected. And you already have a fortune. Hmm.’

He snapped his fingers. ‘I have it.’

She widened her eyes. ‘You do?’

‘Indeed. There’s only one thing I can offer you.’

‘What’s that?’

He moved closer to where she stood by the fireplace. His eyes gleamed. ‘Freedom, Miss Coombes.’

Freedom.

She tasted the word on her lips, as if it were a new flavour of floral cream.

She’d never experienced true freedom. She tried to find it as best as she could, in her parents’ home, but there were strictures. It was why she’d become a suffragette. Most of the rules that governed her daily life seemed to be based upon the fact that she was a woman whose place was in the home. She rarely had time to support the Cause as she wished. She found a few moments here and there, but any freedom had to be snatched, hidden, like the banners in her embroidery box.

‘Freedom.’ This time she spoke the word aloud.

Adam leaned in. The gleam in his eyes deepened. ‘That’s what you really want, isn’t it? To be a free woman. It’s why you’re a suffragette.’

He understood, she realised, amazed. For a moment, her throat choked. ‘Yes. It is.’

He bowed. ‘Let your freedom be my part of the bargain, Miss Coombes. If you marry me, you can support the Cause in whatever way you choose.’

‘You’d support my vocation as a suffragette?’ She couldn’t believe it. So many men loathed the suffragette movement. She had to be sure. ‘Is that what you mean? You’d allow me openly to follow my beliefs. You wouldn’t try to stop me, in any way.’

‘I vow it. If you marry me, I will not constrain you.’ He inclined his head. ‘Until women get the vote, you will be free to follow your own desires.’

At his last word Violet moved closer. ‘And what do you desire?’

* * *

Adam took a step back. Behind him the fire irons hit the marble hearth with a clatter. He picked up the iron poker before it rolled away and prodded it back into a bucket of coal.

Violet Coombes’s blue eyes were frank and wide.

He noticed again how pretty she was. Her riding attire suited her better than the ball gown she’d been wearing the night before. The riding habit was blue velvet, not black broadcloth as his sisters wore. A deep midnight blue that made her eyes like the brightest forget-me-nots. Her curves were shapely and the creaminess of her skin was emphasised by the loosened lace jabot at her throat.

‘A marriage of convenience is all very well,’ she said crisply, ‘but I need to know more before we agree to terms. I have no intention of being a sacrificial lamb.’

‘The terms...’ he clarified.

‘I presume you will want an heir.’

Adam exhaled sharply. He’d been clenching his jaw along with his fists, he realised, as he rolled his fingers from their tight ball. It had been harder than he’d predicted to be so honest about his family’s predicament. Yet it hadn’t been difficult to confide in her. That wide, honest gaze of hers had encouraged him. It was extraordinary. He felt better for having shared his concern with her, to not be alone with it.

Now their conversation had turned into one of the most awkward he’d ever had and, in the course of trying to save the family fortune, he’d had a few.

He decided to match her frankness. ‘My offspring are not a matter to which I’ve given much thought. I’ve been too intent on ensuring there is something to inherit. But if I were to think about it, yes, I would want children. A son.’

She winced. For a moment her lip trembled, then she firmed it. Two pink spots appeared on her cheeks. ‘A son is what all men want.’

The quickly hidden hurt with which she spoke surprised him. She tried to disguise it, but he heard it in her voice.

He wanted to ask her what was wrong, but he couldn’t pry.

‘Beauley Manor will go to a male heir,’ he said evenly. ‘That’s the law.’

‘Many laws need changing.’

‘Certainly. But as it stands, the Beaufort name will continue under the male line.’

‘So would a male heir be part of the bargain? Would I need to provide you with a son? Or would eleven daughters be found wanting?’

Adam frowned. Her words held an almost bitter note. He was a good judge of character. Chocolate could be bitter, he supposed, but it didn’t match the sweetness of Violet Coombes.

In any case, the conversation had become even more damned awkward.

He gave a slight bow. ‘Perhaps my marriage proposal was a bad idea. It was a spur-of-the-moment notion. Forgive me, Miss Coombes, if I have upset you. I’ll take no more of your time.’

* * *

‘Wait!’ Violet put out her hand. ‘It is I who must ask you to forgive me. Today’s events have been very upsetting.’

She sat on the sofa, patted amid the cushions. ‘Please.’

For a moment Adam towered over her. Then his long legs folded as he took a seat on the other end of the sofa. There was very little room for them both to sit amid the tufted pillows her mother adored so much. His thigh almost grazed hers.

Austere, he met her gaze. ‘Miss Coombes. I have no plan to trick or entrap you. My intentions are to see if we can help each other.’

‘A husband has rights,’ she said quietly. ‘That is the law, too.’

Outrage flashed in his eyes. ‘Do you think I would take my rights by force? I’m a gentleman.’

‘That word means little to many men.’

He squared his shoulders. ‘To me, it means a great deal.’

Violet studied Adam Beaufort. She had offended him. She hadn’t meant to.

There was only one thing for it.

She leaned in and kissed him.