Chapter One
London
One week later ...
"Gwyneth, we have news of the most excellent kind," said
Earl Langston. "We have found you a husband."
Feeling suddenly light-headed, Gwyneth Hall tried to keep
herself from gaping at him. "A husband, my lord?" He had
never shown interest in helping her family -- his cousins -
- before. Why now?
Stunned, she sat back in the cushioned chair and tried not
to feel overwhelmed by the opulent withdrawing room in her
cousin's London mansion. Painted angels hovered above her
on the ceiling. Somber portraits of people she'd never met
decorated the darkly paneled walls. While a timid maid
served her spiced cider, the earl and his wife smiled like
they were baring their teeth.
They'd only invited her to their home once, a few months
ago, when they'd needed a companion for their daughter,
Elizabeth, while her husband was out of the country.
Gwyneth had accepted, glad to experience more of London
than her poor corner of it. Instead of a companion, she
had been an unpaid servant, seeing to her cousin's
wardrobe. But Elizabeth was dead now, and Gwyneth had
promised to keep the circumstances a secret. Was this
offer of a husband a payment for her silence?
"How old are you now?" Lord Langston asked.
"I have three and twenty years."
"And I believe your father does not have dowries for his
four daughters."
She saw the earl glance distastefully at her garments,
knew her green woolen gown with its simple linen ruff at
the neck might as well be rags to him. But besides her
gloves, she wore a hat with a narrow brim that her mother
had given her tilted at a smart angle. She felt proudof
her appearance.
Her back stiffened as she lifted her chin. "My father
works hard, Lord Langston, but he has grown sickly over
the last several years."
"I understand, my dear. That is why I have taken it upon
myself to provide you with a dowry."
She narrowed her gaze. "And why would you do this?"
She heard Lady Langston inhale with a hiss, and the earl's
smile thinned.
"Because, girl," said Lady Langston, "we cannot give you
in marriage to Edmund Blackwell without it."
Edmund Blackwell? The name echoed about in her head like a
stone thrown down a rocky cliff.
"Elizabeth's husband?" she finally managed to say in a
faint voice, though her tongue felt swollen. The husband
her cousin had cried over?
The earl nodded. "He has an estate to run, and we feel
that a wife will ease his burdens and provide
companionship -- "
Gwyneth well remembered trying to start awkward
conversations with Elizabeth. Once she had asked if hers
was a love match, because she'd always thought the
Langstons wanted to marry her to a nobleman. Elizabeth had
only burst into angry tears and refused to discuss it.
"Elizabeth died but six weeks ago," she said in
bewilderment. "He needs a wife this quickly?"
Lady Langston shook her head. "Do not think he agreed to
it easily, girl. It is a difficult thing to lose such a
woman as my daughter was. But he understands the reality
of needing the dowry for his lands and a woman to run his
household."
But of course he needed the money most of all; she could
see that immediately. Such was the way of things in
marriage. She had hoped it would be different for her,
that she'd have a man to love and a family to care for.
And there was no saying she couldn't have that yet. She
had spent her life learning how to be a good wife and had
despaired of ever getting the chance -- until recently,
that is, when a prosperous merchant had begun to court
her. He was twice her age and had lecherous intentions,
but he offered a gift of money that would bring her family
back from the edge of poverty, and he had wanted no dowry,
which in itself made him attractive to her family. She
would be one less daughter to worry about feeding.
But Edmund Blackwell would offer no money. How would this
help her family -- help her sisters with dowries?
Suddenly her hope soared as she glanced from the earl to
his wife excitedly. "Forgive my curiosity, but does this
mean you will be so kind as to offer my sisters dowries as
well?"
Lady Langston gave her a frosty, knowing look, as if
Gwyneth was begging for ownership of all of their
estates. "Your mother is family. We are offering to ease
her burdens by seeing one of her daughters settled. Is
your greed so great that you demand more?"
Gwyneth felt the blood drain from her face. "My lady, you
misunderstand me. I am grateful for this opportunity, and
only wish to make my decision with all the facts
available. I only ask that I might meet Sir Edmund before
I decide."
"He has already returned north to Yorkshire because the
grain harvest is well under way." The earl already seemed
distracted, as if her concerns were unimportant.
"There is no choice, girl," said Lady Langston coldly. "He
needs a wife, and we have already offered you to him. The
marriage contract has been legally signed."
Gwyneth stared at her clenched fists, trying to quell her
rising panic. The decision had been made without her. Did
Sir Edmund leave so quickly because he did not want her to
see him? She tried not to think about the cold, bitter
tone of Elizabeth's voice whenever she spoke of him.
Yet she had been wishing desperately for another man to
choose as her husband, because she soon would have been
forced by her conscience to marry the merchant. Was an
ugly stranger better than an old man whose odor often
lingered after he had left the room?
Although her cousin Elizabeth had complained about her
husband leaving her alone when he went to France, she had
never said that he mistreated her ...
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