A Penniless Prospect. Joanna Maitland

a strong-willed second wife and by his own addiction to the gaming tables.

      ‘Mama has told you about the marriage which has been arranged for you, I understand? Good, good,’ he finished, without giving Jamie time to reply. ‘I hope you realise how lucky you are, my child. It is not every man who would take you, you know, but luckily, Cousin Ralph is rich enough not to object to your lack of dowry.’

      Jamie’s blood seemed to stop in her veins. Ralph Graves—a distant relation of Lady Calderwood—was old enough to be her grandfather. She went cold all over at the very thought of him, with his twisted and wizened body, and his tiny black eyes. She remembered how those leering eyes had followed her round the room, how he had sought every opportunity to touch her, how clammy was the feel of his hand. Everything about him had made her flesh crawl.

      ‘No!’ Her protest burst out before she could think what she was saying.

      Her father slowly raised his eyes to meet hers. Under his increasingly stern gaze, she flushed but held her ground. ‘What did you say?’ he asked ominously.

      Jamie took a deep breath. ‘I said I will not marry Ralph Graves, Papa.’

      Her father ignored her protests. She should have known he would. ‘Your betrothed is due to arrive at any moment. You will receive him graciously and accept his formal proposal when he makes it tomorrow. And then you will be wed as soon as the banns have been read.’

      ‘No, Papa,’ said Jamie again, in the most reasonable tones she could muster, ‘I will not marry Ralph Graves.’

      He looked sharply at her then. ‘You are my daughter and you will obey me. Graves and I have settled on this arrangement, and I will not permit you to undermine my position with him. I say you will marry him.’ She could see that her obstinacy was fuelling his rising anger. His face and neck were turning an alarming shade of purple. ‘No other man would take you, plain and penniless as you are. Take him, or by God, I’ll disown you and cast you out!’ His hands were shaking even more now.

      Play for time, said Jamie’s inner voice. Let him calm down a little or he will throw you out this very day.

      Jamie forced a tiny smile. ‘Papa, please, do not be angry with me! I do not mean to vex you. I know you mean to do what is best for me and I am grateful, truly I am.’ Behind her back, she crossed her fingers. ‘But Cousin Ralph is so much older than me, besides having buried two wives already. I just…I need a little time to accustom myself to the idea of marriage to him. All I ask is a little time. Please, Papa!’

      She could see not the slightest sign of softening in his face. Nothing she could say would ever sway him. He expected her to submit without a murmur—to become Ralph Graves’ property, his dumb, downtrodden chattel. She refused to contemplate being so completely in the power of such a man.

      ‘You have until this evening,’ her father said flatly, without looking at her. ‘Cousin Ralph is expected for dinner. And you will comport yourself as you have been taught. Or else.’

      She was dismissed. There was nothing more to be said. Slowly she climbed the stairs to her freezing refuge. Inside, she leaned thankfully against the door, closing her eyes in an effort to shut out the image of Ralph Graves. It all felt like a wicked joke. Ralph Graves might be rich, but generous he most certainly was not. From what little Jamie knew of him, he was rich because he was a miser, a miser who grudged every penny he spent. If she married him, Jamie would be exchanging one freezing garret for another—and, in addition…

      No! She had never allowed herself to dwell on her sufferings. Now was definitely not the time to start.

      She found herself wondering why Graves would agree to wed her without a dowry. It hardly seemed in character for such a miserly old man. She could not understand how her father could have persuaded Graves to offer for her without some kind of financial incentive. Yet she was penniless.

      Jamie shook her head impatiently. She had picked a strange moment to worry over impossible riddles. She had been prepared to escape before, when she did not know who had been chosen for her.

      Now, she had far more reason to flee.

      Chapter Four

      When Jamie entered the drawing-room, the shrivelled figure of Ralph Graves uncoiled itself from the chair by the blazing fire and came to greet her. Taking both her icy hands in his, he leaned forward to place a kiss on her cheek. Jamie was enveloped in the musty smell of his clothes. Then, at the touch of his wet mouth on her skin, she could no longer stop the nausea from rising in her throat. She closed her eyes and willed herself to conquer it.

      ‘I knew you should not mind a betrothal kiss, my dear,’ he said in a rather high-pitched voice which cracked occasionally in the most disconcerting way. He turned her to face him so that he could view her properly.

      He needs to examine the goods, Jamie concluded, conscious of his bright little eyes and his damp hand on hers. And he thinks he owns me already. She bore his scrutiny with dignity for a moment, then said, ‘Ah, but you are a little previous, Cousin Ralph, I believe.’ She forced herself to smile flirtatiously at him, subduing the temptation to pull her hand away and rub it clean on the muslin dress. ‘Papa told me that we should meet this evening and I might then expect your formal proposal tomorrow. Do you tell me you do not intend to make one?’ she teased, trying to hide her disgust behind a mask of archness.

      It worked. Cousin Ralph laughed, an odd croaking sound. ‘By Gad, she has grown up, as you said, Sir John. I think I may yet have the best of our bargain.’ He turned back to Jamie. ‘Very well. Tomorrow it shall be.’

      With as genuine a smile as she could manage, Jamie enquired about their guest’s journey. She was rewarded with a detailed recital of the horrors between Bathinghurst and Calderwood, where the roads alternated between slush and sticky mud.

      Cousin Ralph had, he affirmed, put up with the cold and discomfort quite willingly. The warm welcome which awaited him at Calderwood—and here he paused to look meaningfully at Jamie and to pat her trapped hand again—was compensation for any hardships.

      Jamie suddenly knew she had conquered all her fears—for she wanted to laugh. If Cousin Ralph had been plagued by cold and draughts, he ought to spend more of his hidden wealth on improving the comfort of his carriage. He probably even begrudged the cost of a hot brick for his feet! No real gentleman would travel in such a way. The gentleman who had called earlier, for example…

      Jamie was nodding absently, apparently in agreement with what Graves was saying, and he beamed at her. But her thoughts were dangerously far away, with an elegant gentleman dressed in black. If only—

      Jamie was saved by the announcement of dinner.

      Graves naturally offered his arm to escort Lady Calderwood to the dining-room, where he took his seat in the place of honour on her immediate right. Jamie breathed a sigh of relief to find that she had been placed on her father’s right, at the opposite end of the long mahogany dining table.

      The dinner which her ladyship had ordered, though not lavish by the standards of the ton, was much more extravagant than the normal fare at Calderwood Hall. As the dishes of the first course were being served, Lady Calderwood turned brightly to her guest. ‘Do have a little of this buttered crab, cousin. It is difficult to come by crab at this season, of course, but I recalled that it was a favourite with you.’

      Graves helped himself liberally. There would be little or none left for the host or his daughter, but Jamie had been denied food for so long that she did not care. Indeed, if she partook of too many unaccustomed dishes, her stomach might rebel at the un-wonted richness. She must guard against that at all costs. So, she ate a little soup and some plainly cooked fish and vegetables, refusing the beef. If Cousin Ralph noted how abstemious she was, he would be congratulating himself. His wife-to-be would not cost much to feed.

      During the first course, Sir John addressed barely a word to his daughter. He preferred to address himself to his wine, consuming copious amounts with every dish. The second course included several delicacies, together with a Rhenish cream, another