Marriage Under Siege. Anne O'Brien

      ‘I know. And I remember your previous words to me: that you had had enough of betrothals and marriages to last a lifetime. But consider.’ He sat again and leaned forward on his elbows, spread his hands palm up. ‘I believe that national events are likely to overtake us before we know it and we will all be caught up in the maelstrom of war and violence whether we wish it or no. If you agreed to the marriage I would give you the protection of my name, my resources and my body. Your jointure would remain as it is now, to give you financial security in case of my death. For the present, Brampton Percy would remain your home and I would do all in my power to secure your jointure estates from attack.’

      It was a very persuasive argument. But I hate this place! The hatred burned in her throat, hammered in her head. But she did not, could not choose to say it aloud in the face of such a generous gesture. But did he mean it? Could he truly contemplate marriage with her rather than allow her to go her own way and so rid him of the responsibility?

      ‘I would not pressure you,’ Mansell persisted, ‘but there is much to recommend the scheme.’

      She looked at him at last, a clear and level gaze, keeping her voice light. ‘Perhaps you have not considered, my lord. My upbringing was under the influence of Sir Robert Denham, as you are well aware. As a Baron of the Exchequer, he was unswervingly loyal to the King. And so my own inclination has been formed. Could you really believe that the marriage of a Parliamentary radical, as I understand the matter, to a Royalist sympathiser would be suitable?’ She caught the quick flash of surprise on his face. ‘Did you think to keep your political leanings secret in this house? You spoke about them to Sir William after Lord Edward’s burial. You were overheard—so it is now the talk of the servants’ hall.’ She smiled a little at his momentary discomfort.

      ‘I see. Then I must learn discretion and to guard my tongue. But I am no radical.’ His eyes glittered with a touch of humour. ‘But, yes … of course it would be foolish to deny that it is divisive. But is it insurmountable?’

      ‘Would it be possible to differ on politics, when blood is being shed in the name of King and Parliament, but yet preserve domestic harmony?’ There was more than a hint of doubt in her voice.

      ‘I have no idea.’ Frustration engraved a deep line between his brows. ‘I agree that it is an issue, but I find your safety to be a more pressing one. Perhaps we could beg to differ on the powers invested in the monarch, but not be reduced to shooting each other over the breakfast table.’

      ‘I suppose so.’ The doubt was still very evident. ‘But I would not care for you to suspect my loyalties. As you say, we have no idea of what might develop to split families asunder.’

      ‘Very true. Yet I still believe that the advantages far outweigh any difficulties that may not even happen.’ Mansell hesitated a moment, hearing his own words, amazed that he appeared to be talking himself into an alliance when he was by no means certain that he desired it, whatever Lord Edward’s wishes might have been. Why not simply let the matter rest and let the lady sever all ties with the Bramptons, if that was her choice? And then a thought struck him. One he did not care for. ‘Unless, of course, you would find me objectionable as a husband.’

      She glanced up, her eyes wide, her hands suddenly curled into fists, hidden in the folds of her black skirts. Objectionable? Oh, no. How could any woman find an alliance with this virile, formidable man anything but acceptable? Those magnificent eyes, which gleamed silver in the light. The strong wave of his dark hair. The strength and power of his lean body. How could she resist such an offer? And yet she was afraid. Lord Edward had taught her well that … And how could she possibly tell Francis Brampton of her fears?

      She is actually thinking about it? His smile had a sardonic edge as he waited. Finally he gave up.

      ‘If I lacked for self-confidence, my lady, you would just have destroyed it utterly. Would you reject me as being unsuitable? Do you dislike me so much that you could not consider matrimony with me?’

      She shook her head, flushing vividly. ‘No, my lord. Never that. But I cannot imagine why you would show such concern for my future. There is really no need.’

      As she spoke, the answer came to her with all the clarity of a lightning strike. Think, you fool. Don’t be lulled by a masterful face and imperious eyes. Think of how he would assess the value of Ingram House and Leintwardine Manor. Of course he would not turn his back on such a gain, offered to him on a silver platter, at so little cost to himself. Of course marriage would be acceptable to him! Even marriage to me! Perhaps he is no different from Edward after all and simply sees me as far too valuable an asset to be allowed to go free.

      ‘It is my thought that I could do no better for a bride. I would be honoured if you would accept my offer.’ He tried for a persuasive tone.

      ‘Perhaps you have not considered, my lord. Perhaps you would not choose to marry again so soon after your sad bereavement.’ There, she had said it. Poor lost Katherine. She awaited his reply, her breath shallow, barely stirring the bodice of her gown.

      Mansell considered his reply for a long moment. ‘It is now more than a year since Katherine’s death. I have grieved for her. And the son I never knew.’ The lines around his mouth were deeply engraved as he frowned down at the tankard in his hands, but his words were gentle enough. ‘But you must not think of her as an impediment to our marriage, a shade who will tread upon your heels at every step. She does not govern my future decisions, as Lord Edward must not influence yours. Is that what you wish to hear?’

      ‘I think so.’

      ‘Then will you accept my offer? Will you give yourself into my keeping, Honoria? Together we will hold the estates of Brampton and Laxton secure, against all comers?’

      At least he had not made empty protestations of love. She knew exactly where she stood. A desirable mate to bring power and wealth to the union of two important families. As an heiress she had expected no more and no less. And yet it was very tempting. Could she really take the risk? Her eyes searched the flat planes and firm lines of his features as the warnings of her mind struggled against the desires of her heart.

      He stood with impatience, driven by her silence so that he strode around the table, taking her hand in his and drawing her abruptly to her feet before him. He was instantly aware of Morrighan lifting her head, the low growl in her throat.

      He chose to ignore it. ‘Well, Honoria? Shall we make the bargain?’

      Honoria looked at him for a moment, head angled to one side, expression unreadable. Then, ‘Very well. On one condition, my lord.’

      ‘Of course. If it is within my power.’

      ‘Will you give me free rein to improve this … this house?’ This terrible monstrosity!

      His brows rose at her unexpected request and his quick smile released the tension between them.

      ‘Lord Edward refused to consider any changes,’ Honoria explained, ‘even those that would bring comfort. Apart from this room, which he gave me for my own.’

      ‘I see. I have no objection if you wish to take on such a Herculean task. I admire your fortitude.’ Mansell grimaced at his surroundings. ‘The solar shall remain yours, of course. And, as long as you do not beggar me with French fashions and Italian works of art, I will give you the free rein you desire. God knows, the place needs some improvements. So, yes—I will give you free rein, with my blessing. But in return I too have a request, my lady. No, not a request, but a demand.’

      ‘Which is?’ The instant suspicion on her face almost made him laugh, if the flash of fear in her eyes had not shocked him with its immediacy.

      ‘If you agree to marry me, my lady, I will accept on no condition that you wear black!’

      ‘But I am in mourning!’ She smoothed her damp palms over her silk skirts. Why should it matter to him how she looked, what she wore? He was not marrying her for her beauty!

      ‘You have mourned Lord Edward long enough, I think. If you marry me,