His Spoilt Lady Page 5

  He had summoned her to his study after she had breakfasted alone in the dining room and castigated her. Seating herself confidently in a chair opposite his desk, it had taken her a few moments to realise it was she he was berating and not the odious Foster! Sir Thomas had not even let her interrupt him to explain the true version of the previous night’s events. Linnett realised that she had never before seen her father so angry with her. He left her no choice in the course he outlined for her but told her in no uncertain terms that she was to marry John Foster. Linnett would be otherwise ruined by her behaviour of the previous evening, and he would brook no disobedience from her. He blamed himself, he said, for sparing the rod and spoiling the child.

  It was at this point that Linnett had indignantly raised her voice in protest, but, holding his hand up to silence her, Sir Thomas had shouted at her, his face purple with rage. Linnett found that she was nervous of her father for the first time in her life, and she had subsided quietly into her chair, listening without further attempt to interrupt him until he had finished.

  The essence of it was that she would marry John Foster, and her dowry meant that John would become the sole heir to the business. As the dry financial details were explained to her, Linnett realised that John Foster would, in effect, own her! They were to marry in a fortnight’s time and leave for Boston America the following day from Plymouth. They would travel on one of the company’s ships, The Tempest, which her father had given to Foster. It would be carrying a cargo of tea and cloth back to Boston. When Sir Thomas Wainwright had finally finished this litany, Linnett had fled to her room, hastily donned her riding clothes and left the house. She had galloped off at speed some short while later, on her beloved horse Pango, the birthday gift from her father three years previous.

  So now here she was, sitting on the ground wondering what on Earth she should do about the whole situation; desolately, she plucked at the soft spring grass. Linnett had always assumed that she would be left to choose her own husband. Her father had always indulged her, and it had not even occurred to her that he might select a husband for her, let alone someone she did not even like!

  Oh, Linnett knew it was common practice for parents to make matches for their daughters. But having grown up without a mother, she had become accustomed to thinking for herself. After all, her father had encouraged her to do just that. Linnett found her thoughts drifting to this man Foster. He was certainly very good-looking, if you liked dark brooding men, which she most definitely did not. There was something dangerous about him, there had to be, for her to feel so unsettled around him...especially now after the humiliating way he had treated her. It was all so unfair! She wanted to marry someone easy-going like Charles, someone who would not interfere over much with her perfect life, someone who would leave her to plan their social calendar and let her do pretty much as she liked. Not some overbearing tyrant like this Foster, a man who resorted to violence when disagreed with. And what was it her father had told her? Oh yes. “John tells me that you are wilful and heedless and need a strong man as your husband, one who will know how to quell and modify your behaviour.” Linnett squirmed, absolutely mortified and furious, the nerve of that man...the insufferable cheek!

  “Ooh, detestable bullying oaf!” Linnett squealed aloud, startling Pango, who swung his head up from where he was quietly cropping the lush spring grass, his dark intelligent eyes watching his beloved mistress and waiting to see if she would call him to her. As Linnett continued to sit, frowning into the distance, he dropped his head back down and began to tear at the turf once again.

  Well, thought Linnett, if things did not change within two weeks, and the worst happened and she did end up married to that, that insufferable bastard, she would show him! If she could make his life difficult enough, then perhaps she would be able to make an arrangement with him that he should go back to Boston alone, leaving her behind with her father; plenty of marriages continued in just such a manner. The more she thought about her plan, the more sensible it seemed to be. Fairly soon, she felt much better about the situation, so much so that Linnett decided that when she saw John she would suggest her idea straight-away, using her father’s age and ill health as good reason for remaining behind in England. Having solved things to her satisfaction, she mounted her horse and turned in the direction of home.

  On her return to Lavenstock Hall, Linnett was dismayed to find that John had left the house and would not be returning until the day of their proposed wedding. The reason given was that he had business to attend to in Plymouth. In fact, although he did have some tasks to attend to, the real reason was that he suspected Linnett would attempt some sort of plan in the hope that she could put a stop to the wedding. He had no wish to antagonise her further with his constant presence. The sensible solution, he concluded, was for him to remove himself far from the line of fire. Sir Thomas Wainwright was adamant that the wedding would take place, and he was extremely pleased that his plans had at last come to fruition. He was most reassuring and jovial whilst seeing John to his coach after luncheon.

  Linnett was first dismayed by John’s absence but was now relieved to find him gone. Embarrassed by the treatment he had meted out to her in the coach the previous evening, she felt relieved not to have to face him again so soon. She reasoned that with him out of the way, she could persuade her father to let her remain in England while John returned to America.

  Now that she was feeling calmer, Linnett started to face the fact that in the society in which they lived, where the slightest hint of scandal ruined a young girl’s reputation, she had no choice really but to accept John’s proposal of marriage. Of the marriage bed, well, whenever her thoughts drifted to that terrifying and most embarrassing subject, Linnett remembered the kiss on the balcony, her confusion would grow, and she would begin to feel quite strange. She decided to dwell no further on the matter.

  The days passed quickly in a whirl of activity, Linnett settled down, and she began to enjoy all the fuss and attention. Her mother’s wedding dress was brought down from the attic; it had been carefully wrapped and preserved in camphor and linen. The heavy satin garment that had once been white was now aged to a golden cream. It had a low, rounded neckline and three ruffles edged with tiny seed pearls. The sleeves were long, but just below the elbow flowed layer upon layer of lace, sewn with the same tiny pearls. The skirt of the dress was flounced around the edges and each flounce decorated with an embroidered rose, which was embellished again with the pearls. The style was not of today’s fashion, but for once, Linnett did not care about that. This was her beloved mother’s wedding gown, and she was thrilled with it. After all, it was still a strikingly beautiful dress of quality and richness, and she loved it.

  Linnett had put forward her post-marriage plan to her father, and rather surprisingly, he had listened to her. Sir Thomas even seemed to agree with her plans. He told her that contrary to what she thought, John was a very reasonable and kindly young man, who would no doubt consider what she had suggested very seriously. Since this conversation, Linnett had convinced herself that the problem was as good as solved, her troublesome husband would be gone and she would be staying on at Lavenstock Hall after her marriage, free to continue the life that she loved.

  Chapter 5

  The day of her wedding dawned cloudy and dull. So much for good omens, Linnett thought, upon rising and gazing out of her bedroom window at the depressingly grey weather. She had breakfasted in bed and then bathed in the copper tub. Lottie had put her hair up, and it was parted in the middle and back with ringlets hanging either side of her face, a few wispy tendrils of hair framed her face. She planned to wear her mother’s pearl earrings but no other jewellery.

  Linnett turned away from the window and slipped her feet into her soft satin slippers. Standing quietly in her shift, she waited for Lottie to help her into her wedding dress. Amazingly, Linnett felt calm and quite dreamy. Lottie and Hattie lifted the layers of foamy petticoats over Linnett’s head and smoothed them down. Th
en, carefully and gently, they put the precious wedding gown onto Linnett while she stood patiently allowing Lottie to fasten all the tiny satin-covered buttons up at the back of the dress. “There! All done, miss. Aaah, miss, you look just like a princess from a fairy tale, you do!” Lottie turned Linnett so that she could see herself in the looking glass.

  Linnett gazed at her reflection, pleased that she did actually look quite regal a princess indeed. She swished to and fro in front of the mirror, the voluminous dress and petticoats rustling pleasingly as she moved.

  “My roses please, Lottie.”

  Handing Linnett her bouquet of the palest pink and cream roses, bound up in creamy satin ribbon to match her dress, Lottie said with tears in her eyes, “Miss Linnett, may I say that I hope you’ll be very happy.”

  “Why, thank you, Lottie.”

  Linnett leaned forward and kissed her little maid’s warm, pink cheek. Lottie took out a handkerchief and blew hard. Linnett patted her shoulder and, taking a deep breath, turned and walked to the door.

  Sir Thomas Wainwright was pacing about downstairs. Wandering from his study into the hall and back again, he happened to be in the hall as Linnett descended the stairs. Hearing a faint rustling of skirts, he glanced up the staircase, and his breath caught in his throat as he watched his beautiful, beloved daughter slowly make her way down the curved stairway. She looked for a moment just as his dear Arabella had on their wedding day those many years ago.

  He wiped a tear from his eye and blew his nose loudly. How could he bear to part with his enchanting daughter, his little green-eyed puss? The last link, it seemed, with his darling Arabella. He had put forward Linnett’s suggestion that she remain with him while John returned to the colonies. John had kindly but firmly refused to consider the idea. Truth be told, Sir Thomas would not have respected John had he agreed to Linnett’s plan. A man should have his wife beside him, why else take a wife? However, he knew he would miss Linnett’s presence dreadfully, but at least he felt assured that she would be cared for when his time came.

  Linnett stepped down from the last stair and stood in front of her father. He placed his hands on her shoulders and held her at arm’s length, studying her, and he smiled down at her and nodded. He then took her into his arms and gently rocked her.

  “Papa?” Linnett queried.

  “My dearest child, a child no longer, you looked so like your dear mother coming down those stairs. You look beautiful, puss. You will make John a good wife, I know. He is my own choice of husband for you and I am sure he will make you happy dearest, so do be kind to him, and he will be kind to you. Now, come along, t’wouldn’t do to be late for your own wedding!” He kissed her forehead and drew her towards the entrance.

  Outside, an open-topped carriage awaited, festooned with cream and pale pink ribbons. The air was still damp from the earlier rain, and droplets of water sparkled in the weak sunlight. Linnett climbed up into the carriage in a daze. She gazed about her, suddenly acutely aware of the minutest detail, the way the hairs on her father’s wrist stood up, curling at the cuff of his sleeve as he placed his hand on the carriage door, the rainbow of colours in each tiny droplet of moisture standing out on the surface of the carriage and the criss-cross hairline scratches on the leather seats inside the coach.

  In next to no time, they had arrived at the chapel in the estate grounds. The little church seemed packed with people, but in actual fact, there were only around fifty or so people gathered inside. The chapel was rarely as full as this; usually only the estate workers and house staff joined the family for services on a Sunday. Today, most of those people were there plus some other local folk such as the doctor, who had seen Linnett through all her childhood ailments, and her old governess Miss Spires, now retired and living with her sister in Portsmouth. Of course Charles and his mother came, together with Nancy, who was accompanied by her parents. A brace of Sir Thomas’s business friends had also been invited. On John’s side, only a captain from one of his ships and his wife were there. John’s lawyer stood as his best man.

  Linnett seemed to float down the aisle in a dream-like state. Dust motes hung suspended in the stream of refracted light from the chapel’s coloured windows. Thick candles sputtered softly, adding to the ethereal quality of the occasion. As Linnett glided slowly past the guests, they turned and sighed, smiling at one another. It seemed to Linnett that she walked through a whispering sea of swaying corn.

  At last, she stood before the altar, and she turned to look at the man she was to marry, studying him frankly. He was a tall man with the healthy tanned complexion of one who spends much of his time out of doors. His dark brown hair was tied back with a black velvet ribbon. His lips were well defined, his chin square and firm, in all a rather severe face. Finally, she raised her eyes to meet his compelling gaze, thick dark lashes that surrounded pewter grey eyes unusual in their intensity. Linnett found it hard to maintain eye contact with him and blushed. John nodded graciously to his bride, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he witnessed the heat suffusing Linnett’s face.

  Linnett had not seen him since he had spanked her inside the coach, but there was no sign of the hoyden today as she stood quietly by his side. He was entranced by her fey beauty as he watched her study him from under her lashes. Linnett looked like a golden angel; how could this ravishingly creature be so stubborn and wilful? The service flowed smoothly, and finally, they emerged from the chapel into a watery sunlight as Mr. and Mrs. John Foster.

  Suddenly, it seemed to Linnett that everyone was shouting, the noise bursting in on her as she emerged from her dream world with a jolt. The voices suddenly seemed extraordinarily loud. Overwhelmed by their good wishes, Linnett was jostled and kissed and turned this way and that. Finally, she could cope with no more and was very near to tears. Her elbow was grasped firmly, and she was led forward to the waiting carriage. John guided his new wife up the carriage step. “Are you unwell?” he inquired quietly.

  “What?” Linnett asked faintly before realizing what he’d said. “No...I don’t know...I… I feel so strange!”

  She swayed slightly as she spoke, and John immediately swept an arm under her, lifting her up against his chest. He cradled her in his arms and he studied her pale, upturned face with a frown of concern. Instinctively, Linnett slipped her arms around his neck. A slight smile softened John’s mouth as he whispered into her ear, “Mrs Foster you are a very beautiful woman.”

  Lowering his head, he kissed her gently on her mouth, moving his lips over hers in a soft caress. Shyly, Linnett returned the kiss, and she could feel herself blushing again. John lifted his head and gazed into those intriguing eyes, wondering what her thoughts were.

  The crowd of guests witnessing this romantic moment began to clap and cheer. John grinned at them, stepped up into the carriage and placed Linnett on the seat before sitting opposite her. On their arrival at the Hall, they were met by a footman who handed them up a glass of mead each, an old tradition in this area of Devonshire. Linnett began to feel much better after the mead had warmed her stomach and lightened her spirits. The party feasted well on cold salmon, followed by roast meats of venison, duckling and beef. Jellies and sweet meats, fruit pies and thick clotted cream followed. Linnett and John sat at opposite ends of the table. They stole sly looks at one another, each when they thought that the other wasn’t watching. John thought her the most desirable and beautiful bride ever, but Linnett nervously observed John’s brooding dark looks and masculinity.

  After the meal, there was dancing outside in one of the barns, mainly for the servants and farm workers. But a few guests joined in, attracted by the jaunty music; a wedding was always a great leveller of people.

  As Linnett stood talking to Jackson, her father’s bailiff, Lord Charles and Nancy approached.

  “Linnett, you look breathtaking!” Charles exclaimed.

  “Why, thank you, Charles. Regretting letting me go now are you?” Linnett teased as she bent forward, accepting his kiss be
fore turning to Nancy and embracing her. Nancy, upon receiving her kiss, gave Linnett a little hug. “You shall be nearly the first to know, outside of the families of course, that Charles and I are to be engaged next week!” Nancy beamed.

  “Yes, we are to become engaged, Linnett. We shall shortly be joining you and John as happily married people!”

  Charles sounded exuberant and Linnett could see he was relieved at the way things had resolved themselves.

  “I am very pleased for you both. When do you expect the wedding to be?” she asked politely.

  “Not until sometime next summer I should think.” Nancy answered for the both of them. “I have to prepare my trousseau, and there is so much to do!”

  Sir Thomas walked over and stood behind them, listening quietly and placing his hands one on each of their shoulders. “I couldn’t help overhearing; congratulations to you both. About time you two tied the knot, eh! eh!”

  He clapped Charles on the shoulder and turned to Linnett. “Can I have a quiet word, my child? Please excuse us?”

  He bowed graciously to Nancy and Charles and escorted Linnett out into the hall. “Lottie awaits you up in your chamber, my dear. She has had the rose guest room prepared for you both tonight.”

  Somewhat embarrassed, Sir Thomas kissed his daughter’s forehead and pushed her gently towards the stairs. “I shall bid you good night then, darling girl,” he said and then turned, hurrying back to his guests, most of whom would shortly be leaving now that the bride had retired.

  Linnett reluctantly made her way up to the rose bedroom, so named for the rose-patterned wall paper and deep pink bed hangings. A little while later, Linnett lay stiffly between starched linen sheets, her stomach lurching and her heart beating too fast. A fire burned merrily in the hearth, the flickering light sending out a cheery orange glow, banishing the strange shadows into the darkened corners of the room. Linnett, freshly washed and scented by Lottie, had reluctantly climbed into the enormous bed.