His Makeshift Wife. ANNE ASHLEY

to her credit.

      ‘Firstly, if we are to comply with the terms of the will we must be married not later than two months hence.’

      ‘But surely you’re not proposing that we should comply?’ she demanded to know, wanting this issue at least quite clear between them, if nothing else.

      ‘Please, Briony, allow me to finish, then we can discuss matters,’ he returned with a calmness that she was beginning to find faintly irksome. ‘My aunt also specified that the marriage should last no less than a period of six months. After which, if we should find we do not suit, we may go our separate ways, seemingly with her blessing. The house and the majority of her private fortune would then be divided evenly between the two of us. In the meantime Mr Pettigrew, being one of the executors, would arrange for a monthly allowance to be made to us from my aunt’s legacy in order to cover household expenses and other reasonable necessities. However, if one, or the other, should choose to remove from the Manor before the six-month period is over, then the one who had done his, or her, utmost to abide by the terms of the will would receive the whole fortune.’

      Briony took a sip from her glass in an attempt to calm her. Against all the odds, was he seriously proposing they should abide by the terms of the will? It certainly sounded like it. And, true enough, for a six-month period she would undoubtedly be able to command most any luxury. But at what cost to herself? No, it really was too base even to contemplate. Why, it would be like selling herself, body and soul, merely for financial gain!

      ‘Before I put my proposition before you,’ he continued, once again obliging her to listen, ‘I should tell you that my aunt has made other provisions for you, should you choose not to contemplate wedlock.’

      He rose to his feet and, as he did so, she thought she could detect a suspicion of that crooked smile returning briefly, as though at some private thought, before he positioned himself once more by the window.

      ‘In the local town there is, so I understand, a certain haberdashery, the property of my late aunt. This she bequeaths in full to you. A young woman rents the property, so I believe, and is also in the process of repaying a loan. Mr Pettigrew assured me there would be room enough for you to remove there and help run the business, should you choose to avail yourself of this alternative, for if we do not marry, this fine old house, together with all its contents, is to be sold and the money raised, together with my aunt’s private fortune, is to be divided between a number of worthy causes.’ At last he turned to look directly at her once again to add, ‘Which, although extremely altruistic, hardly benefits either of us.’

      ‘Perhaps not, sir,’ Briony agreed, ‘but I think it is the only honourable course for us both.’

      ‘Therefore, I’m proposing an alternative solution,’ he continued, just as though she had not spoken, ‘that I believe shall suit us both and will also comply with all the terms set down in the will. We shall marry and live here for the six-month period. But the marriage will be one of convenience only, no more, no less.’

      He noted the flicker of doubt and mistrust in her expression, as though she had yet to appreciate fully what he was suggesting, and moved towards her, drawing her to her feet by the simple expedient of grasping her wrists.

      ‘Let me make things perfectly clear, Briony,’ he murmured, staring down into clear blue eyes that were suddenly aglow with dawning wonder. ‘The world will believe ours to be a conventional marriage, a joyous union between two people who after many years have been reunited. But I shall make no attempt to claim my full rights as a husband. In other words, the marriage shall not be consummated and therefore can be annulled once the six-month period is over, or a little before. After which, I give you my word that I shall not attempt to claim either my share of the property, or my aunt’s personal wealth. All I should wish to take with me when I go is a few personal effects, books mainly, as mementoes of my aunt.’

      Briony could hardly believe her great good fortune, or that he was prepared to give up so much. It just didn’t make any sense at all. If he wasn’t interested in either the house, or the fortune, why bother to go through with the farce of a marriage in the first place?

      ‘I have my reasons,’ was the prompt response, the instant she had voiced her doubts. ‘Mr Pettigrew intends to call here tomorrow. He will only confirm what I have already told you. He knows nothing of my proposal and I wish it to remain that way. I give you my word that, after the marriage is annulled, you will be able to remain here at the Manor in comfort for the rest of your life, should you choose to do so. The one precondition is that you do everything possible to convince the world that the union between us is genuine … in every sense.

      ‘Now, I shall leave you to consider my proposal, and shall return the day after tomorrow to receive your answer.’ With that he left her, without so much as a backward glance, or even a final word of farewell.

      Once back at the most comfortable inn the local town had to offer, Luke sent for his most trusted servant-cum-confidant and awaited his arrival in the private parlour, which he had hired for the duration of his stay. After pouring himself a glass of wine, he took up a stance by the window, idly watching the moderate amount of traffic travelling down the main street at this time of day.

      ‘Nothing like London, eh?’ he remarked on detecting the click of the door opening. He didn’t need to turn round, for the slight scraping of one foot along the ground told him clearly enough that it was his former batman who had entered the room.

      After securely closing the door, Benjamin Carey limped slowly towards the man whom he had served loyally throughout their years in the army. ‘Born and bred in the country, sir, so I don’t mind the peace and quiet. Can always find plenty to fill my time.’

      Study him though he might, Ben could read nothing in that sharp, hawk-like profile to reveal whether his employer was pleased or quite otherwise. But, it had ever been so! he reminded himself. A genius at disguising his feelings was Major Kingsley. Which was perhaps just as well considering his master’s present activities, Ben mused.

      ‘May I ask how it goes with you, sir?’

      ‘I’m not altogether sure, Ben.’ Abandoning his position by the window, Luke settled himself at the table and gestured for his servant to do likewise before pouring a second glass of wine and refilling his own. ‘Fillies in London I can have a-plenty … But there’s a distinctly chilly wind circling Miss Briony Winters. Do you know, Ben, I’ve gained the distinct impression the gel don’t quite like me for some reason. And she certainly has no desire to marry me. She does a fellow’s ego a power of no good, I can tell you!’

      At this display of mock-hurt, Ben threw back his head and roared with laughter. He was among the very few who knew when Luke Kingsley was putting on an act for the benefit of others and when he was in earnest. ‘Well, sir, fine-looking man that you are, you can’t be expected to charm all the fillies.’

      ‘I don’t want to charm them all,’ Luke returned sharply. ‘But I’m obliged to charm that pert and headstrong miss!’ He shook his head, betraying his genuine annoyance by a severe frown. ‘Curse Aunt Lavinia! What on earth possessed her to make such a will?’ His sense of humour then began to reassert itself and he couldn’t suppress a smile. ‘But, of course, I know well enough why. It would seem I’ve played my part rather too well in recent months, Ben. Even dear Lady Ashworth was beginning to suppose her nephew was turning into a rakehelly wastrel and needed bringing back into the fold, as it were. And she evidently considered Miss Briony Winters equal to the task. The chit must have qualities I have yet to unearth!’

      A look of sympathy flickered over the older man’s face. ‘She ain’t ill favoured, is she, sir?’

      ‘Oh, no. Quite the opposite, in fact!’ Luke had little difficulty in conjuring up a face boasting, surprisingly enough, both character and loveliness in equal measure. ‘And in the normal course of events Miss Winters would have been most acceptable as a future bride. She’s pleasing in both face and form. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with her birth. Her mother came from old and respected wealthy-yeoman stock. Sadly, the family disowned the woman, I seem to recall, soon after she’d married an impoverished