The Marquess Tames His Bride

And then she recalled how comforting it had been when he’d held her hand when she hadn’t been able to disguise how nervous she’d felt. Even though the vicar had disapproved. And she wondered if perhaps he wasn’t taunting her. If perhaps he might truly be attempting to support her through what he termed the ordeal.

She darted him a look, but could see nothing on his face but a sort of weary contempt for the crowds gathering on the steps and the air of gaiety surrounding the other newly married couple.

‘We shall have to attend the festivities organised by Lady Harriet’s family,’ he said. ‘I hope you can continue to behave as bravely as you have just done in church.’

She frowned. Did he mean that as a compliment or a criticism? Well, whatever it was, marriage to a man like Lord Rawcliffe was going to be hard enough without fretting herself to flinders trying to work out what he meant by every casually uttered caustic comment.

She’d do better to give as good as she got.

‘I can endure it,’ she therefore declared, ‘if you can.’

He turned to look at her. And gave her the benefit of one of his most penetrating stares. And then suddenly, the corner of his mouth kicked up in an ironic smile.

‘I shall find it easier to endure than you, I suspect.’

‘Yes, since all these people are your friends.’

Whereas she’d only known most of them for a couple of days. She did recall seeing Lord Becconsall visit Kelsham Park once or twice, during the long vacation from school, and later, when he’d been on furlough from his military service. Not that she’d ever spoken to him, or known that he answered to the name of Ulysses. But she’d paid close attention to everything Lord Rawcliffe did every time he returned from school. And suffered agonies of mortification when people had gossiped about his conquests, with a kind of salacious glee, whether he made them in the villages surrounding Kelsham Park, or London, or anywhere else.

‘Some of them, yes,’ he replied cryptically. ‘But most of them are mere acquaintances.’ Just then his carriage drew up at the foot of the steps and he urged her in its direction. Not that she needed much prompting. She was jolly glad to climb inside and shut out all the people who were looking at her as though she was some kind of fairground sideshow.

He said nothing during the short ride back to Lady Harriet’s house, where the wedding breakfast was being held. She’d been told that just the bridal parties and close family would be invited. But as they alighted, it felt as if an awful lot of people were converging on the enormous mansion. It was one good thing about having such a massive house, she supposed. You could sit thirty to dinner and not feel cramped.

You could, however, feel small and lonely and out of your depth, she reflected. Especially as both Lord Becconsall and Captain Bretherton, who were her new husband’s closest friends, kept giving her most peculiar looks. Halfway between pity and suspicion.

If she’d had any confidence in him, she’d have asked Lord Rawcliffe what he’d told them about her. But she didn’t think she’d be able to look them in the face if she knew for a fact that he’d described the way she’d hit him, and the steps he’d taken to salvage her reputation. If he had told them, it would definitely account for their air of disapproval.

And the pity? Well, anyone who knew him well would expect him to make any woman a devil of a husband. Why, even she had almost said hah! when he’d come to the part of the vows about staying faithful.

Practically any other woman would be able to bear that better than her. The kind of woman who’d been brought up to expect a fashionable sort of marriage might have expected nothing else. But Clare wasn’t fashionable, or brought up to expect to contract a fashionable marriage. So she could foresee him hurting her on a regular basis. And not only by being unfaithful. It was the fact he didn’t love her, would never love her…and probably wouldn’t even be able to consider her as a companion, let alone a partner in life. He had too much pride to consider anyone his equal.

Not that she believed a wife should think herself equal to her husband. A husband represented Christ and the woman the church. Which was why she’d promised to obey him.