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“Help me. Isham is sure to be on time….”

India was right. They had not long to wait. As the clock struck four, Lord Isham was announced and shown into the parlor.

As he bowed to her mother, India stole a critical look at him. His manner was correct, his bow perfection, but his presence shattered the genteel atmosphere in the room.

India glanced down at her hands and found that they were trembling. She had summoned all her courage for the coming interview, but it was deserting her fast. Now she longed only to get it over with.

It seemed an age before her mother rose.

“Will you excuse me, sir?” she said. “India would like to speak to you.”

Isham merely bowed and held the door. As it closed he turned and leaned against it. For a panic-stricken moment India felt trapped. She was forced to suffer his long, assessing stare.

“So you are to be the sacrificial lamb?” his lordship drawled at last. “What a fate, my dear!”

The Reluctant Bride

Meg Alexander


www.millsandboon.co.uk

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MEG ALEXANDER

After living in southern Spain for many years, Meg Alexander now lives in Kent, although, having been born in Lancashire, she feels that her roots are in the north of England. Meg’s career has encompassed a wide variety of roles, from professional cook to assistant director of a conference center. She has always been a voracious reader, and loves to write. Other loves include history, cats, gardening, cooking and travel. She has a son and two grandchildren.

Other books in THE STEEPWOOD SCANDAL series:

Lord Ravensden’s Marriage, by Anne Herries

An Innocent Miss, by Elizabeth Bailey

The Reluctant Bride, by Meg Alexander

A Companion of Quality, by Nicola Cornick

A Most Improper Proposal, by Gail Whitiker

A Noble Man, by Anne Ashley

An Unreasonable Match, by Sylvia Andrew

An Unconventional Duenna, by Paula Marshall

Counterfeit Earl, by Anne Herries

The Captain’s Return, by Elizabeth Bailey

The Guardian’s Dilemma, by Gail Whitiker

Lord Exmouth’s Intentions, by Anne Ashley

Mr. Rushford’s Honour, by Meg Alexander

An Unlikely Suitor, by Nicola Cornick

An Inescapable Match, by Sylvia Andrew

The Missing Marchioness, by Paula Marshall

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter One

1811

The elder of the two ladies seated by the fireside in the tiny cottage was visibly distressed. Tears fell unheeded down her cheeks as she looked up at her brother-in-law.

“Tell me it isn’t true!” she pleaded. “Must Isham take everything? Oh, please, not my dowry too and the portions for the girls?”

Sir James Perceval hesitated, hating the task ahead of him, yet knowing that it must be done.

“There is no help for it,” he said at last. “Isabel, my dear, it is better that you face the worst. I tried to save what little I could, but the debt is too great. When I said that everything was gone I meant not only the house, your carriage, and the horses…”

“I don’t care about those,” Mrs Rushford cried, waving aside the comforts which had sustained her for a lifetime. “But my girls! I had such hopes for them. Who will take them now, and how are we to live?”

She reached out a hand to the silent figure of her daughter. “India, we are destitute…quite ruined!” Then, to the horror of her companions, she burst into hysterical laughter.

India rose to her feet and rang the bell. Then she took her mother’s hands and began to speak in a low voice.

“Mama, you are very tired. Let me take you to your room. Martha shall bathe your head with Hungary water, and make a hot brick for your feet. Uncle and I will see to matters here. There may be something we can do…”

Slipping an arm about her mother’s waist, she supported her distraught parent from the room.

It was some time before she returned, much to Sir James’s concern, but India was quick to reassure him.

“Mama is resting,” she said quietly. “But I have sent Letty for the doctor. A sedative will give her some respite. It was the shock, you see, coming on top of all she has had to bear just recently.”

“I would have spared her if I could, my dear, but it wasn’t possible. This is a bad business, and I am sorry that she has taken it so hard…”

India nodded. “I’m afraid that the news about her dowry was the last straw. These last four months since Father’s death have been a nightmare. And then, you know, she had such plans for us.”

“I know it, my dear child. God knows I tried at least to save your own portions, but the debt was too great. Your father’s vowels committed him to the hilt, and a debt of honour must be paid.”

“Honour?” India cried harshly. “Forgive me, Uncle, but I see no honour in any of this. Isham must have known that Father could not pay such sums. He is a cur. If I were a man I’d call him out myself.”

Sir James’s face grew stern. “You don’t understand, I fear. If a man sits at the tables his companions do not question his finances. It is taken for granted that he will be able to meet his obligations. To do otherwise would be fraud.”

India was silent. In her heart she knew that Lord Isham was not solely to blame for the disaster that had overtaken them. For the first time in her life she was beginning to realise that her adored papa, for all his charm and gaiety, lacked any sense of responsibility for his family. To face the truth squarely, as she must now do, he had gambled away not only the roof above their heads but monies which he might have considered were not his to spend.

The law would not agree with her. She knew that well enough. Where her own property was concerned a wife had no rights. Her husband might dispose of it as he willed. But how could Papa have left them destitute? Something of her despair must have shown in her face, and her uncle saw it.

“I wish I could make you understand,” he said more gently. “Tailors, grocers, even builders may be left to whistle for prompt settlement of their accounts, but gambling debts must be paid at once.”

“Very well then,” India told him stiffly. “He shall be paid, and much good may the money do him. He, above any man in London, is in no need of it…”

“That’s not the point, my love. Try not to be bitter. His lordship has been accommodating. He gave you three months’ grace in your old home when he might have turned you out at once.”

“That was kind of him!” India would not be placated. “He must have been waiting with impatience to take possession of the Grange. After all, a hovel would be an amusing change from one of his so-called palaces.”

“Your home was scarcely that, India.” Sir James looked about him sadly. “Now this, I fear…”

India was at once contrite. “Uncle, I am a wretch! Pray do not think we are ungrateful to you for giving us this place. We shall be happy here…” Her voice wavered a little but she pressed on resolutely. “I have such plans for the garden. We shall grow fruit, and vegetables.” She managed a brief smile. “I am even learning to cook.”

Sir James looked shocked. “My dear, there is surely no need for that? I thought that Martha…”

“Martha is an excellent housemaid, but she has no gift for cooking. My own efforts are in self-defence, and it is not so very difficult. Hester has brought me a copy of Mrs Rundle’s book, and I follow it to the letter.”

“Even so, it is an unsuitable task for you. I’ll send someone over from the Hall.”

“No, please! I beg that you will not. We are too much in your debt already…”

“I wish I could do more. You shall have coals, and food of course, and the use of a carriage when you need it. I’m sorry about the house in London, but the rent was beyond my means, otherwise you might have finished your Season…That I do regret.”

“Please don’t. How could we have stayed? After Father’s death, rumour alone would have driven us away. It would have been unthinkable.”

Sir James regarded her set expression with unease. How much had she heard? He’d done his best to protect his wife’s family from the worst of the London gossip, but rumour had raced through the Ton like wildfire, and had lost nothing in the telling.

Even without it India had been badly hurt. Described always as “the child of his heart,” she had been her father’s favourite, and to her he had seemed a godlike creature. Now her uncle sensed that much of her anger towards Lord Isham stemmed from that hurt, and the realisation that her idol had feet of clay. Gareth Rushford’s death had come as a shock to all of his family, but what had followed had been worse.

Damn the fellow, Sir James thought savagely. He had known for years that that charmer’s carefree lifestyle had rested upon a pyramid of debt. It had taken only that fatal evening at White’s to bring the whole edifice crashing down. The result had crushed his family.

Now India spoke with difficulty. “Have you heard nothing more? About the accident, I mean?”

“Nothing!” her uncle said mendaciously. India must never learn the truth. Gossip had not lied, as he had taken the trouble to find out. Knowing that he was ruined, Rushford had stayed on at the club, drinking heavily. In the early hours of the morning he had staggered out of White’s and into St James’s Street. Would they ever discover if that lurch into the path of a racing curricle had been deliberate? He himself suspected it. Had Rushford tried to spare his family the shame of an obvious suicide? Perhaps. As it was he had died instantly beneath the flying hooves.

There was little he could say to comfort his niece, but he tried. “It was very dark, you know, my dear. We suspect that your father did not see the carriage until it was upon him. At least he did not suffer.”

“Even so…I wonder that he did not hear the horses. It is very strange…”

“My dear child, you must not torture yourself. Perhaps your papa was thinking of something else…”

“His gambling debts? Oh, Uncle, how I hate the practice! It should be outlawed…”

“There, at least, we are in agreement, India. As you must know, my own estate is heavily encumbered and has been so since my grandfather’s day. He had to sell much of it to settle his losses at cards. I have been trying to buy it back, a little at a time.”

“I know it,” she cried warmly. “Hester has told me how you’ve struggled. It is selfish of me to think only of our own concerns, but I cannot help wondering how men can risk their substance upon the turn of a card.”

“Not only men, my dear. It is the vice of our time, and the ladies play their part. You must have seen it when you were in London.”

“I didn’t pay much attention,” she confessed. “There were so many other things to do. It was one long round of parties, balls and concerts…”

Sir James’s hand reached out to her. “Your life now will be very different,” he said sadly. “Tell me now…during your Season, was there no one…I mean…?”

“You mean did anyone offer for me?” For the first time India managed a slight smile. “No, they did not. Uncle, look at me! In the first place I am much too tall. I towered over most of the men who danced with me. And then, you know, I cannot be described as ethereal. I believe that statuesque is the kindest word. My hair is not exactly carrotty-red, but it is certainly a ruddy chestnut, and blue eyes are much preferred to hazel.”

Sir James smiled his dissent, and India dimpled. “I did, however, create one sensation,” she admitted. “I had the misfortune to offend George Brummell, who promptly snubbed me. I was expected to be crushed, but I’m afraid I laughed aloud. He won’t forgive me for it.”

“You seem to have borne that fate with fortitude,” Sir James said drily. “He is another, I fear, who lives beyond his means.”

India was silent. That last remark was much too close to home.

Her uncle sensed it and made haste to change the subject.

“How is Letty?” he enquired. “I hope that she is a comfort to you at this time.”

“She is upset, but not because of our losses. Letty is in love. We had hoped that Oliver Wells would offer for her, but now? Well, I don’t know.”

“Wells?” Sir James considered for a moment. “One of the Wells of Bristol? Money can be of no consideration there, so it cannot signify if Letty has no portion. I married for love myself, you know…”

“I know it, Uncle dear, but Oliver is a younger son and his mother is as proud as Lucifer. She is hoping for a splendid match for him. Now Letty has sent word that all must be at an end between them. She tries to hide it, but I know how sad she feels.”

“And your brother? Where is Giles? I had hoped to find him here with you today. There is so much to be decided. Have you news of him?”

“Giles is gone into Derbyshire,” India faltered. “He stays with the Cromfords. It was a long-standing invitation…”

“Indeed!” Sir James’s voice was stiff with disapproval. “The invitation might have been declined. His place is here with you.” He did not trouble to hide his anger. His fear always was that Giles might follow in his father’s footsteps.

India bit her tongue, though her instinct was to fly at once to her brother’s defence. She was saved from further strictures upon his conduct when Letty entered the room.

Her sister looked pale and tired, but she managed a smile for her uncle. Then she turned to India.

“The doctor has gone up to Mama,” she murmured. “I caught him as he was about to start his rounds, and he brought me back at once.”

“Good!” India smiled encouragement at the younger girl. “Mama needs rest above anything. Then, when she is feeling better, we shall tell her of our plans.”

“What plans are these?” Sir James bent a keen gaze on his nieces, thinking as he did so that they could not have been less alike. No one would imagine that they were so closely related.

Letty was a full head shorter than her sister, and so slender as to appear almost elfin. That look was emphasised by her crop of fashionably short blonde curls atop a pair of dark blue eyes. A beauty, he decided, but to his mind India cast her into the shade.

Beside those of the younger girl, India’s looks were striking. There was character in that face, with its strong jaw and noble brow. The much-despised auburn hair was drawn back smoothly into a chignon, beneath which surprisingly fine black eyebrows soared above the great hazel eyes, framed as they were by sooty lashes.

Sir James smiled to himself. India had no trace of vanity, believing herself to be so plain.

Yet in one respect she had seized correctly upon the reason for her lack of offers. Even at first glance it must be clear to the most casual observer that this was a woman to be reckoned with. There was resolution in those sweetly curving lips, and a stubborn tilt to her chin. He sighed. Such qualities were scarcely at a premium in the marriage market. As a wife India was unlikely to be biddable.

Not for the first time he regretted the close proximity of Mrs Guarding’s Academy. So many of the local girls had gone there. Had he known that his own daughter would be exposed to the radical thinking of that redoubtable educationalist he would have sent Hester to a more conventional school for the children of the gentry. Greek, Latin and philosophy indeed! Of what use could those subjects be to any sensible woman? And that was not the worst. Both India and Hester had now what he could only describe as an odd kick in their gallop. Both were inclined to speak out as boldly as any man. These notions of independence would never do.

With a sigh he returned to the matter in hand, addressing Letty. She, at least, had some notion of what was acceptable feminine conduct.

“What plans are these?” he repeated.

Letty returned his smile, but she shook her head. “India will tell you,” she said shyly.

“India?”

“Uncle, we are trying to decide on something,” India admitted. “We cannot continue to rely upon your help.”

Sir James was not altogether surprised. He could understand her dislike of what she must regard as charity.

“And what have you considered?” He was determined to press her, knowing better than she that there were few options open to delicately nurtured girls thrown penniless upon the world. “You will not, of course, wish to leave your mother?”

“We may have no choice, but I heard yesterday that a teacher is to leave Mrs Guarding’s Academy. There may be an opening there.”

“Teaching, my dear? Shall you enjoy that way of life?”

“Enjoyment cannot be our first consideration,” India said quietly. “It would mean that we could stay here in the village. To take a post as a companion or a governess would mean leaving Mama. I’d like above all things to avoid that for the present until she is feeling better.” She raised her head. “Is the doctor leaving? I thought I heard a carriage. Surely he will speak to us before he goes?”

“It isn’t the doctor.” Letty had been gazing through the window. “We have another visitor.”

“Anyone we know?”

“I don’t recognise the carriage. I thought it might be someone who had lost the way, but young Jesse Ekin is pointing to our door.”

“How odd.” India rose to her feet as a thunderous knocking sounded at the door. “I’ll go, Letty. Martha must be upstairs.”

She had no presentiment of what awaited her, but the appearance of the man who stood before her caused her to recoil.

He towered over her, broad as well as tall, and as she looked up at his swarthy face a pair of keen dark eyes raked her figure from head to toe in obvious appreciation.

“Yes?” she said stiffly.

“My name is Isham,” came the brief reply. “I wish to see Mrs Rushford.”

For just a moment India was too astounded to reply. This was the author of all their misfortunes, and the sheer effrontery of his visit was unbelievable. It was in the worst of taste. Doubtless he had come to gloat over the downfall of his victims. He should not have that pleasure.

“Mrs Rushford is not at home to visitors,” she said in icy tones.

“I see.” The dark eyes studied her face. “And you are?”

“I am Miss Rushford, and I too am not at home to visitors…”

“On the contrary, you look very much at home, if I may say so. Miss Rushford, what I have to say concerns your family. Will you not hear me out?”

“Nothing you have to say could possibly be of interest to us…” India began to close the door and found a booted foot in the way.

“A rash statement since you don’t know what it is. I see that Sir James Perceval’s carriage is here. I will speak to him.”

“Sir, you are insolent! Kindly remove your foot.”

“Certainly not! I haven’t come all this way to be denied.”

India gave him a freezing look. It had no effect at all. She could not remove him by force, and well she knew it.

“Very well,” she said at last. “You may see my uncle. I doubt if you will attempt to force your will upon a man.”

To her annoyance his lordship’s lips twitched.

“It must be maddening to be a helpless female,” he agreed. “Now ma’am, if you will lead the way…?”

India’s back was ramrod straight as she marched ahead of him. In a moment he would get his just deserts. Sir James would brook no nonsense from this creature.

She was wrong. Much to her astonishment Sir James advanced upon their visitor with an outstretched hand.

“What may I do for you, my lord?” he asked. “We had not expected you before the New Year.”

“My business concerns your family, sir. I had hoped to see Mrs Rushford, but since she is not available…”

“My sister-in-law is indisposed, I fear. May I not be her proxy?”

“If you would be so good. This is a delicate matter. I should welcome your advice. Perhaps first you will present me to these ladies…?” Ignoring India, Lord Isham turned to Letty with an enquiring glance.

“Forgive me, sir. These are my nieces. India you have already met. This is her younger sister, Letitia.”

Isham bowed politely, but his bold stare brought a blush to Letty’s cheeks.

India could have slapped her. Must Letty look so…overcome in this man’s presence? She seized her sister’s hand, and making their excuses almost dragged her from the room.

“Oh dear! Should we not have been more polite?” Letty looked distressed. “India, you were giving his lordship dagger-looks.”

“Are you surprised? How he had the sheer effrontery to come here I can’t imagine. It is insulting.”

“But, love, we don’t know why he came…”

“Most probably he wants his money. There can be no other reason. Doubtless he has already visited the Grange and feels that he was cheated.”

“Well, it is in a poor state, you know. Nothing has been spent on it in years…”

“That isn’t the point. He gambled for it and he won it. That should be enough.”

India was still seething as she hurried up to her mother’s bedroom, but her expression softened as she looked at the wan figure lying in the old four-poster. Mrs Rushford’s eyes were closed.

The doctor put a finger to his lips. “Don’t disturb her. I’ve given her a draught. She will sleep now, and should feel better when she wakes.”

“She looks so ill.” Letty choked back a sob. “Is she…is she dying?”

“Not at all, you foolish girl! Your mother is a prey to nerves. Give her time to recover from the strain of these past months and she will soon be well again.” The doctor picked up his bag and took his leave of them.

“We had best let Uncle know.” India peered through the window, but Isham’s coach was waiting still.

“Damn the man!” she cried. “What can he have to say that takes so long?”

Letty giggled. “You may be thankful that Mama is sleeping. She would be shocked to hear you swear.”

“I’m sorry, but that creature would try the patience of a saint. Did you see how he looked at us? He might have been assessing prize cattle.”

Letty’s colour rose. “I know it, but, well…you know his reputation. It is the talk of London…”

“Oh, you mean his opera-dancer? The expensive bird-of-paradise? He can well afford to give her a house and carriages and jewels. She’s said to be the latest of many, but without his wealth no one would look at him.”

Letty was pink with embarrassment. “Oliver won’t discuss it, but other people do. The matchmakers have given up on Isham. They say that he will never marry.”

“Who would want him? It is no wonder that he tries to buy affection. I never saw an uglier-looking man. Why, he might be a gypsy or a pirate. All that is wanting is a gold ring in one ear.”

Letty was moved to protest. “He is not ill-favoured, India. He is of a dark complexion, but his eyes are very fine.”

“You are a model of Christian charity, sister dear. Let us say that his reputation must be very bad indeed if even a massive fortune does not attract the marriage market.”

“It isn’t that, I’m sure.” Letty was determined to be fair. “I think he frightens people more than anything. His look is so…so shameless. I felt as if I had forgotten to wear my gown. I wanted to run away and hide.”

“Oh, Letty, must you be so timid? We must not let him see that we care at all for his opinion. I intend to treat him with contempt.”

Letty shuddered. “Must we go down and take our leave of him?”

“Certainly not! As far as Lord Isham is concerned we are not of the least consequence. Unless I am mistaken he sees women as fit for one purpose only…”

Letty blushed again. Then she gave a sigh of relief. “Oh, India, he is going. Thank heavens for that.” She stood by the window until his lordship’s carriage had disappeared.

“Had we best go down again?”

“In a moment. Letty, Uncle is sure to question us again as to what we mean to do. Have you any ideas?”

“I can’t think of anything,” Letty admitted helplessly. “I couldn’t teach, even if Mrs Guarding offered me a post at the Academy. I might take a post as a companion, but that would mean leaving home.” Her lips quivered.

“Dearest, don’t distress yourself. You are clever with your needle, which I am not, and you sing so well. You might think of teaching music.”

“I don’t know. Mrs Guarding may not have an opening for both of us. In any case, Uncle will not like it…”

“I don’t expect he will. He blames Mrs Guarding for Hester’s advanced ideas, but that is not quite fair. Hester would be of an independent mind, however she was taught.” India chuckled. “Uncle wishes me to speak to her and to bring her round to a better understanding of her duty. By that he means marriage, as you know.”

Even Letty twinkled at that. “I wish you luck,” she said more cheerfully. “Shall we visit her today? She is such a fund of gossip.”

“Then come with me and enjoy a coze. We could go back with Uncle, since Mama is to sleep for hours. The change will do you good.”

“I’d like that. We have been so dull of late…with nothing but worry and disappointment.” Letty’s face grew sad. “I had hoped to hear from Oliver, although I did say that we must give up all thought of an engagement. He must have taken me at my word.”

“Nonsense, you silly goose! Have you no faith in him? If he loves you truly he will not give up so easily. Now bathe your eyes. We’ll go down and hear what Uncle has to say. Isham has probably suggested sending us to the salt mines to earn a crust…”

This outrageous statement finally brought a smile from Letty. Still protesting at the ridiculous notion she followed her sister down the stairs.

“You think Isham capable of anything,” she teased.

Yet even India was unprepared for the news with which Sir James greeted them. He looked so serious that both girls were alarmed.

“What is it?” India asked. “Is Isham demanding more? We have nothing left to give…”

“Sit down, my dears. It is nothing like that. Now what I have to say concerns each of you. Lord Isham came to offer for you…either of you. He wishes you to decide between yourselves which of you is willing to become his bride.”

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