The Genuine Article Read online

  The Genuine Article

  Patricia Rice

  About the Author

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  * * *

  Chapter 1

  “Reginald, have you ever contemplated marriage?” Lord Geoffrey Darley inquired, while sprawling across a bench in the Cock and Crow on the London road.

  “Whyever should I?” Reginald Montague seemed completely taken aback by the question, as if it were one that he’d thought would never come under consideration, somewhat akin to asking whether a Turkish emperor wore corsets.

  He set down his mug and gazed across the table at his friend with serious concern. “Your mother after you again?”

  The younger man ignored the question. “A man ought to get married sometime, you know.”

  Reginald snorted. Some men snort and look piggish. Reginald was not one of those men. Expensively if not ele­gantly turned out in doeskin pantaloons, linen cravat, and double-breasted green riding coat, he managed only to look haughty when emitting this inelegant noise. His dark hair was rakishly disheveled, not by design but by the force of the increasing wind they had stopped to avoid.

  He crossed one Hessian-booted leg over the other as he scanned the occupants of the tavern. His attitude was such as to show that he did not expect a sensible reply to his challenge: “Give me one good reason why I should marry.”

  Darley squirmed unhappily and pulled at his high, starched collar. The starch, which fashion’s arbiter Brummell insisted made a gentleman, left red weals on his neck, and he gazed enviously at Reginald’s un­starched but pristinely white linen.

  Reginald had told Brummell he’d rather wear hemp than starch, and rather than being ostracized for his boldness, he was considered a top gallant. Darley was quite certain that if he had said such a thing, he would be scorned by all.

  “Why, a man should marry to have children, I suppose.”

  Reginald quirked an eyebrow in Darley’s direction. “Whatever for? I suppose if I were inclined to a nursery, Madelyn would agree for a small sum. It’s not as if I need an heir, after all. That’s Charley’s duty.”

  Darley glumly sipped his ale. “A wife would see to your house and that sort of thing, keep things neat and orderly and keep the cooks from quitting, I suppose.”

  Reginald was growing amused. “I have servants to keep things neat and orderly, and Jasper is most functional when it comes to keeping the servants in line.”

  The younger man ripped at his cravat until it loosened, then moved his neck gingerly inside his collar. “Well, there’s entertaining, then. A man needs a wife at his side when he entertains. A good hostess can be very helpful.”

  Reginald waved at a waitress to bring more ale. She had been keeping an interested eye on both of them since they walked in, so the service was excellent. He waited until she had departed with a saucy wink before answering Darley’s last nonsensity.

  “Whyever would I entertain at home? There’s nothing of any interest there, and no one to talk to. A man only needs a good club for entertaining. He’s more likely to be entertained with good wine and good sense at his club in the company of other men than with listening to the simpering ineptitudes that typify polite conversation in the company of women.”

  Darley gave it up. “And of course, you always have Madelyn if you need a woman in your bed. I only wish I were in your position.”

  Reginald gave him a look of sympathy. “Being your fa­ther’s only son is a sad thing, but you’re not earl yet. Tell your mama you are looking for the perfect countess and will settle for no less.”

  Darley didn’t look appeased. “That’s easy for you to say. Your mama has been gone these many years. You don’t know what it’s like to be harped at by the woman night and day. I have come to think that if I can find a gentle, quiet maid, I would be much better off under her care than at home.”

  “Maybe so, but it has been my experience that the tenderest of maids can turn into dragons once harnessed by marriage. I would be wary, if I were you, Darley, or you could find yourself in worse suds than with your mama.”

  Reginald drained his glass and reached for his hat. “It looks as if the sun’s back out. I’ll be on my way then. Promised Charley I’d put in an appearance for the heir’s birthday. I’m so grateful for his existence that I’ll go to any lengths to please him. Don’t go getting yourself leg-shackled be­fore I return.”

  Darley merely looked more miserable as his gaze went longingly to the door. Upstairs, his mother and sister were adorning a private parlor. It had been mere chance that he’d found sympathetic company in the tap room. He lifted a mug in farewell and watched Reginald march out, a hale and hearty fellow with no cares in the world.

  Maybe he would be as bold as Reginald if he had the other man’s height. At five-eight, Darley was merely aver­age. Had he not been an earl’s son, he would go unnoticed by the larger portion of the females of his acquaintance. He was not so well set-up as Reginald—the padding in his coat was necessary. His dark coloring did not meet the popular taste, and he was quite certain his long thin nose had been compared to a quill point by more than one clever miss.

  Of course, Reginald could not be called handsome in the traditional sense, either, but women seemed to flock to him anyway. It had to be his height and the breadth of his shoul­ders. Women liked to feel helpless and protected, and men of Reginald’s size always made them feel that way, Darley supposed. He gazed gloomily down at his knee-high boots. Perhaps he could have the heels extended.

  * * * *

  “I could wish that we had our new clothes now, Marian. Did you see how elegant that lady in the carriage looked? Such beautiful fur she had on her collar! And the feather! It drooped at just the right angle. Do you think I will ever reach such heights of sophistication?”

  Since Jessica had stopped growing at age fourteen, she wasn’t likely to reach any heights at all, but Marian consci­entiously refrained from mentioning that fact. She was al­ready learning her new role well, she decided in a moment of self-congratulation. The old Marian would have said what she felt without thinking.

  “There is no use in spoiling a good gown until we are somewhere to be seen. You know there is no money for more. And you know you are always spilling something on your bodice or dragging your hem in the mud. Poor Lily cannot get all those stains out, especially with the silks.”

  Jessica looked resignedly out the window at the rapidly falling twilight. They had stopped early for fear of the thun­derclouds lining the horizon. That meant they would not ar­rive in London for another day. “I know you have said we will arrive early to give us more chance to choose, but do you really think we will take, Marian? Whatever shall we do if we do not?”

  Marian didn’t have to look in the mirror to know she would not take. Her dark hair, eyes, and complexion were not at all the thing. Worse than that, she had the tongue of an adder and a mind quicker than that of most men. If men despised anything more than a woman smarter than they, she didn’t know what it was. But Jessica had no such prob­lems.

  “You will take, Jessie, there is no doubt of it. You will look just like the fashion plates, all golden slenderness and dimpling smiles, and your nature is as sweet as any gentle­man can desire. You will have swarms of beaux. You need only choose a rich one.”

  Jessica clasped her hands anxiously as she turned back toward the room. “But I am not clever like you, and not only do I not have any dowry, I do not have any family connections.”

  Admittedly, that was the fly in the ointment, but Marian did not say so. “Nonsense,” she disagreed heartily. “Our mother has the very best connections, else how would she have married my father? If she can capture a marquess, you surely deserve an earl.”

 
“Yes, but her father was the younger son of an earl. My father was merely a country squire. It is not at all the same thing, you know.”

  And a poor country squire at that. Poor and not very bright when it came to business, Marian added to herself a trifle waspishly. That wasn’t in keeping with her new style of behavior, but surely she was entitled to think what she might for a little while longer.

  Her stepfather had been a kind and generous man. There, she had thought something pleasant to balance out her unkindness. Poor James Oglethorp had just been so mightily impressed at landing the beautiful widow of a marquess that he had lavished everything he owned on her.

  The fact that the widow had been left with only a small trust fund for herself and her daughter had meant little until the crops had turned bad two years in a row. Marian quite sincerely believed that her stepfather had died of a broken heart when he no longer had a cent left to lavish.

  So here they were, the next best thing to penniless, and their mother was no longer young enough nor wealthy enough to attract the best of suitors. It was left to Marian and Jessica to save them all from penury.

  Marian was quite determined to do it by herself. Jessica was too tender­hearted to take any wealthy man who came along, but Mar­ian was no such thing. She had already gleaned enough information from her gossips in London to know which gentlemen to set her hat for. She had only to focus her at­tention on those few gentlemen until one of them came up to the mark.

  She was clever. She could determine what a gentleman liked in a woman and be that, just long enough for him to fall for the act. He would be wedded faster than he could get the words out.

  She had already decided that was about the only way to do it. Her wayward tongue would otherwise give the game away sooner or later. She would be sweet and demure and empty-headed until the band was on her finger and her hus­band’s pockets were at her disposal. Then she would set about educating him.

  Still, there was Jessica to reassure. Patting her sleeve gently, Marian disposed of her sister’s arguments. “There have been Oglethorps in government since there was a government to be had. You will make a fine politician’s wife, I am certain. You need only look around and find the one you wish and smile for him to come tumbling to your feet We shall both be married by June, just you wait and see. Now let me go find Lily and see what detains our dinner.”

  Since the chambers were so small. Lady Grace and Lily had taken a separate room from Jessica and Marian. Not wishing to disturb her mother if Lily were already down­stairs, Marian hurried down the narrow hall.

  Her mother had not been well since the death of her second hus­band. Marian was quite certain it was the pressing worry of their non-existent finances that had her in the dismals. Once they restored the family’s security, Lady Grace would be fine. Until then, she was best left undisturbed.

  The front room of the inn was fairly deserted at this hour. Most of the patrons had settled in for the evening meal, ei­ther in the tap room or in private parlors. Apparently the last coach had already gone through.

  Marian glanced down at the worn wool of her brown traveling gown and decided no one would look twice at her if she went toward the kitchens. She wasn’t dressed much differently from a servant.

  Before she could act on that decision, the front door swept open with a rush of wind and rain.

  “Miss! Don’t leave yet. Be so good as to tell me if there is room left in the inn. I don’t fancy traveling farther in this.”

  Startled at being addressed in such a manner, Marian turned to gape. The new arrival wore the caped driving coat of a coachman and seemed to have lost his hat. His linen was loose and unstarched, and his boots were coated in mud. He wasn’t better attired than she.

  He was of an unseemly height, and the haughty arrogance of his handsome features was re­flected in his manners. No doubt he thought himself God’s gift to women. She’d seen louts like that before. Marian had little use for men, and less for scoundrels.

  “ ‘Tis a pity then. Mayhap you’ll enjoy the stable in­stead.” She turned and started for the kitchen once more, but a large gloved hand caught her shoulder and swung her around. She glared at him in astonishment.

  “Whatever have I done to deserve such treat­ment?” He released her shoulder and began to peel off his soaked gloves.

  “You exist. That should be sufficient reason.” Without excusing herself, Marian turned on her heels and once more sought refuge in the rear of the inn.

  “I trust you don’t need this employment,” he called after her, “for I mean to tell your employer of your behavior.”

  Fury colored Marian’s cheeks that he could think her no more than a common servant. Her gown might not be of the best quality, but surely he could see she was no ordinary maid. Without stopping to think, she swung around to face him again.

  “I thought you a braying jackass when first you entered. I must congratulate myself on my perceptiveness. Please do talk to the landlord. I will be happy to speak to him personally and tell him I heartily recommend the stable for you. That’s where we always keep the ani­mals at home.”

  Reginald’s eyebrows shot up toward his hairline as the young woman stalked out of sight in the direction of the kitchen. He had undoubtedly made a foolishly hasty judg­ment, but the young lovely had retaliated with an unex­pected and totally unladylike vehemence.

  Still, he couldn’t help grinning just a little at her retort. Perhaps if she had been less lovely he would have found it less humorous. But delivered from rosy lips surrounded by a creamy complex­ion and enhanced by a wealth of very dark hair, the set-down achieved a certain savoriness he could appreciate.

  Perhaps she was some lady’s maid. If so, she was proba­bly as unattainable as the lady herself.

  Shrugging off the incident, Reginald rang the bell for the innkeeper. He seldom had the opportunity to exchange in­sults and witticisms with the fairer sex. He didn’t see any particularly good reason to begin now, or he would chase her down into the kitchen and see if she took as well as she gave.

  * * *

  Chapter 2

  Marian caught Jessica’s wistful look in the mirror as she fastened the heavy braided gold chain around her neck and tested the effect of the exquisitely mounted ruby against her tawny skin. She turned and straightened her sister’s seed pearls gently.

  “You know I would give it to you if it would serve any purpose, but not only would it not suit your coloring, you are only seventeen. A young unmarried lady must not wear jewels. I cannot possibly pass myself off as less than my twenty-two years, so I must take advantage of what few as­sets I have.” She turned around and frowned at the ornate jewel. “I only wish I could sell it so we might live a little more easily.”

  Jessica shook her head and sent a cascade of golden curls flying. “No, it is all you have of your father’s inheritance. It must be very old and valuable. We could not sell it. Mother would be distraught.”

  Marian sighed in resignation. She was much too practical to be sentimental about family heirlooms, but she was also wise enough to know her sister was right. Mother would be more than distraught were the piece to be sold, although to Marian’s mind, one piece of gaudy jewelry was the same as another. She was certain a lesser piece would be just as ef­fective as ornamentation, and the difference could go a long way toward buying the silks and muslins needed for their foray into society.

  “Well, we are not in dire straits as yet. Lily’s handiwork will keep us outfitted a little while longer. If only our heights and coloring were a little closer, we could exchange clothes and then have twice the wardrobe.” Marian sighed at the waste as she pulled on her elbow-length gloves.

  Jessica glanced down at her gown of pale tulle over a delicate ice-blue silk, then over at Marian’s more daring gown of rich gold accented with wine-colored trimmings. She smiled slightly. “I don’t think so, Marian. Even were you blonde, you would not wear this.”

  That was probably so. Jessica often hit close
r to the truth of things than Marian wished to acknowledge. She frowned at her reflection and played her fan as her mother had taught her. Her frown deepened. “I will never be sweet enough or silly enough to capture Lord Darley’s interest. Perhaps I should set my cap for Mr. Henry. He is said to be quite wealthy and an older man may be less inclined to wish for a younger woman for wife.”

  Jessica started for the door. “Don’t be silly. Mr. Henry must be at least forty, and he’s practically wall-eyed. Lord Darley is a very handsome young man, and he seems quite pleased with your attentions. I only wish I were bold enough to attract a man as you can. I do not dare even look them in the eye.”

  Marian could tell her she would do well when she was older and more sure of herself, but Jessica wouldn’t want to hear that. She wanted to believe she would be able to help the family fortune by marrying soon and well. Marian was just as determined that her sister should wait until she was in a better position to choose a husband suited to her gentle nature. To that end, she must capture a suitor quickly. Then Jessica would be free to relax and enjoy her season as a young girl should.

  Lord Darley was the ideal candidate for Marian. A wealthy viscount rumored to be in search of a wife, he had fallen readily for her bold smile, then believed the shyness in her hastily lowered lashes. She had listened intently to every word from his mouth, adroitly given him her fullest atten­tion without offending the company around them, and never uttered one cross or ill-chosen word in his presence. She had easily determined he was slightly shy around women, but he seemed good-natured enough to make a suitable husband. She might wish for a man who was taller than she and a little more forceful in character, but that was not to the point. He was a man who would gladly lend a hand to his bride’s family and not complain when Marian began to show signs of intelligence after the vows were said. She could not find one flaw to her plan.

  “Is Mama ready? We shall be fashionably late but in plenty of time to find partners for the supper dance. Then if she is not feeling well and we must leave early, we will not have wasted the better part of the evening.” Marian effi­ciently tugged on her gloves as she started for the door.