The Convenient Felstone Marriage (Whitby Weddings 1)

Not that Ianthe was quite the same woman he’d initially proposed to. The way she’d looked during their dance was seared into his memory, heating his blood every time he thought of it, but then he supposed there were worse things than having a wife he was actually attracted to. She still wouldn’t distract him from his work, he’d make certain of that. And if a physical relationship were to develop over time, it wasn’t likely to affect him unduly. It wasn’t as if he were likely to fall in love with her. All things considered, the arrangement should still work out well for both of them.

He was still considering the matter when a clerk popped his head around the door, looking apologetically towards him.

‘Excuse me, but there’s a young lady here who says she knows Mr Felstone. I’m sorry to bother you with it, sir, but she seems quite distressed.’

‘Of course.’ Robert pushed his chair back at once, ignoring the sound of aggrieved mutterings from his colleagues. ‘Excuse me, gentlemen.’

He hurried outside, striding purposefully along the platform to where Ianthe was standing with her back hunched against a wall, arms wrapped around her waist as if she were trying to make herself look as inconspicuous as possible. She was in the same shapeless grey dress he’d first seen her wearing on the train, but with no shawl or bonnet, as if she’d come out in a hurry. Her hair was uncharacteristically dishevelled, too, with long, wispy tendrils hanging loose over her face that she made no attempt to push back. Just one glimpse told him something was wrong. Her cheeks were unnaturally pale, but the rest of her features were more animated than he’d ever seen them, her eyes darting from side to side as if they couldn’t bear to stop moving, while she was chewing her bottom lip so frantically that it actually looked swollen.

Something was definitely wrong.

‘Ianthe?’ He got straight to the point. ‘What’s the matter?’

She looked up at the sound of his voice, a fleeting look of panic turning instantly to one of relief. ‘Your proposal, does it still stand?’

‘What?’ He came to an abrupt halt mid-step. ‘Yes, of course.’

‘Then I accept.’ She spoke quickly, as if rushing the words out before either of them could change their minds. ‘I’ll marry you.’

He tipped his head to one side in acknowledgement, trying not to look too surprised by her answer, let alone her manner of giving it. She looked positively frightened, clasping her hands together in front of her in a futile effort to stop them from shaking. Surely she wasn’t frightened of him? She’d never given any indication of it before, though he supposed the idea of marriage itself might be intimidating. Given the chaste nature of his proposal, however, he wouldn’t have expected such extreme behaviour. Her brown eyes had an over-bright, almost feverish gleam that was downright alarming.

‘Then I’m honoured,’ he remembered to answer at last. ‘Though I thought we were going to meet at your aunt’s house?’

‘I made my mind up early.’ She jutted her chin out defensively. ‘I thought you’d want to know.’

‘I do. Though might I ask what made up your mind?’

A fresh look of panic flitted across her features, fleeting but unmistakable. ‘I decided it made good business sense after all. That was the purpose of your proposal, wasn’t it?’

‘It was.’

‘Then we have an agreement.’ She nodded emphatically. ‘I’ll help you convince Mr Harper to sell his shipyard and tutor your ward. In return, you’ll provide me with a safe place to live.’

A safe place? Robert’s eyebrows shot up. What did that mean? Why wouldn’t she feel safe? There were at least a dozen questions on the tip of his tongue, but he had the distinct impression that she wasn’t about to answer any of them. The noise and bustle of the platform seemed to be aggravating her nerves, making her as skittish and highly strung as a young foal. If he pushed her for answers, he had a feeling she might simply run away.

‘Then you’ve made me a happy man, Ianthe. Under the circumstances, I think that my colleagues can manage the rest of the meeting without me. May I escort you home?’

She hesitated, drawing away slightly as he extended an arm out towards her, before swaying back again slowly, placing her hand on his biceps with only the very lightest of pressures. He smiled reassuringly, leading her away from the busy platform towards the station exit. Her hand was still trembling slightly on his arm, though by the way her knuckles were clenched he could tell that she was trying to control it and put on a brave face. Perhaps once he got her into the open air she might relax a little. At least give him some hint as to what the matter was...

‘Did you enjoy the ball?’ He tried to keep his tone light as they emerged on to Park Street.

‘Yes.’

‘And your aunt?’

‘Yes.’

‘It was a great success, so they tell me.’

‘Good.’

Robert clenched his jaw in exasperation, his limited supply of small talk exhausted. Now that she’d formally accepted his proposal, she seemed in no mood to talk any further. He only hoped that her aunt would be at home when they arrived. Perhaps she’d know what was going on.

‘Where are we going?’ Ianthe yanked on his arm suddenly, drawing them both to a halt.

‘Back to your aunt’s.’ He frowned at the note of fear in her voice.

‘I don’t know this street.’