Proposals in Regency Society. Anne Herries

commitment than his own did at present. It would suit him if the earl lived for some years longer, yet he needed his own income intact.

      It was such a coil and so unnecessary. Why must the earl be such a pompous fool, making unreasonable demands on his grandson? Anger mixed with regret as he considered his childhood. Alone and grieving for his parents, he had looked for a sign of love or softness in the earl and found none. Because he was hurt, he had drawn into himself and rejected his grandfather. The estrangement between them had begun years ago and they had drifted apart. For a long time Luke had believed there was nothing between them, but now he was not so sure.

      Had he been as indifferent to his grandfather as he had pretended to be since reaching his maturity, he would simply have walked away and left him to make Harte his heir. However, that particular rogue would rejoice at the earl’s early demise and make short work of his fortune. He might behave as if butter would not melt in his mouth when in the earl’s presence, but Luke knew him for what he was—and that was something that left an unpleasant taste in the mouth. Naturally, he would never mention Harte’s true nature to his grandfather.

      On the other hand, Hartingdon might embrace Roxanne with open arms and demand a marriage sooner rather than later. At the moment she was resisting the idea stoutly, but once she had become accustomed to her surroundings she might change her mind. Luke had dismissed the idea of a convenient marriage for years, but since coming up with the idea of this make-believe engagement, he had found that he did not dislike it as much as before—providing the young woman in question was Roxanne.

      The calm and enterprising manner in which she had embarked on this whole adventure had made Luke admire her more than any other young woman of his acquaintance. Her circumstances would have broken a lesser spirit, but she seemed resilient and eager for life. She was courageous, honest, and, of late, he had found her both charming and amusing as a companion. It might be perfectly possible to have the kind of businesslike marriage they had spoken of with Roxanne—if she could be brought to agree.

      Love was something he still felt belonged to the realms of myths and fairy tales. However, he did like the young woman riding in the carriage ahead of him, and if she were to agree, he would not entirely dislike the idea of marriage and children.

      Yet there might come a time when he found someone he truly wished to wed. Luke shook his head. His father had strayed from the marriage bed, not just into the arms of a mistress, but with a woman he professed to want too much to give up. That day in the carriage when his parents had argued so disastrously, Luke’s father had been talking of a separation or a divorce. When Luke’s mother became hysterical he had begged her pardon, but she would not listen—and then it was too late for all of them.

      Thrown clear of the wreckage that had taken their lives and changed his own so dramatically, he had vowed that he would never hurt anyone as his father had hurt his mother. A sham marriage built on lies was bound to end in bitterness and tears—but a business arrangement was another matter and perhaps a sensible young woman like Roxanne would be able to see its advantages.

      As yet they hardly knew one another. Some time spent visiting the earl would rectify that and, if they continued to get along, Luke could suggest that they turn this make-believe engagement into a real marriage.

      Naturally, she would still be free to lead her own life much of the time, as would he. Their children would be in the nursery, cared for by a nurse and— No! Suddenly, Luke recalled his own childhood after he was left to the mercy of his grandfather. He would wish to spend time with his own children and to help teach them what life was about. They should not be left to the sole care of servants.

      Luke frowned, for the thought brought complications. It might not be as easy to partition his life into different compartments as he had imagined.

      Perhaps for the time being it would be best to stay with his original idea and separate once his grandfather was dead. He was amazed at how disappointed that thought made him feel.

      Roxanne’s heart thudded as she glanced out of the window and saw the huge sprawl of Hartingdon. She had known it must be a large house, but this was so big, way beyond her expectation, some parts much older than others and an ancient tower at one corner. How did one ever find one’s way about in such a place? She had thought she would find it easy to play the part of a respectable young lady, but suddenly the task seemed far more daunting than she had imagined. She would be unmasked immediately and the earl would have her thrown out on her ear.

      Risking a glance at the girl sitting opposite her, she saw that Tilly was looking terrified. The girl had no previous experience of working in a house such as this, though she had sometimes helped ladies who stayed at her aunt and uncle’s inn without their own maids.

      ‘Do not be too anxious, Tilly.’

      ‘It is a big house, miss.’

      ‘Yes, it is. I dare say you will soon get used to it.’

      Roxanne smiled reassuringly, though her stomach was tying itself in knots as the carriage slowed to a halt and then stopped. A groom opened the carriage door and immediately stood back, allowing a man in a black-and-gold uniform to assist her. She took the footman’s hand and was helped down just as Luke gave the reins of his horse to a groom and came to her.

      ‘Have courage,’ he whispered. ‘It looks daunting, I know, but it is just a house.’

      Roxanne lifted her head proudly, but she could not quite control the trembling of her hand as she placed it on his arm. Briefly, Luke covered it with his own and smiled at her. They walked towards the door, where a small group of servants wearing the earl’s colours of black and gold had assembled.

      ‘This is Marshall, my grandfather’s valet, and Mrs Arlet, the housekeeper.’

      A tall thin woman dressed completely in black dipped a curtsy. ‘Welcome, Miss Peters. Please allow me to present the staff.’

      Roxanne was led down a line of maids and footmen, ending with the scullery maid and the boot boy. She kept her head high and a smile on her lips, giving just the faintest nod to them all. It was the way a properly brought up young woman would act, she was sure, and brought her a look of respect from the housekeeper. However, she noticed that Luke chatted to one or two of the footmen and smiled at the pretty parlour maid. Such behaviour was acceptable from him, for he had known the staff all his life. She was a newcomer and should keep her distance, at least for the moment.

      ‘Perhaps you would take my fiancée up to her chamber, Mrs Arlet?’

      ‘Yes, my lord, of course. This way, Miss Peters.’

      Roxanne glanced at Luke, but he was talking to the earl’s valet. She steadied her nerves and followed the housekeeper up the wide magnificent staircase, her gaze moving to the high-vaulted ceiling of the entrance hall. The banisters were heavily carved mahogany, which had darkened with age and polish, the stone steps covered over with a rich blue Persian-style carpet. The entrance hall floor was tiled in black-and-white marble, but the hall upstairs was covered in the same carpet and looked a recent addition to the elsewhere-faded grandeur of the house.

      ‘The earl ordered that you be given the best suite of guestrooms, miss,’ Mrs Arlet said as she led the way along the hall and into the east wing. ‘They have recently been refurbished. This is a large house and in constant need of repair or refurbishment. Some of the family rooms have not been used in an age, so nothing has been done to them. No doubt that will change when his lordship marries.’

      ‘Yes, I would imagine so,’ Roxanne said, her heart racing. Naturally everyone would expect a marriage to be forthcoming. A tiny pang of guilt pierced her, because the housekeeper looked pleased at the idea of change. ‘I think—perhaps you would give me a little tour of the house one day, Mrs Arlet? Not just the main reception rooms—but the kitchen and anywhere else I ought to see.’

      ‘Yes, miss. I should be pleased to, though Lord Clarendon will show you his own rooms, I dare say. The west wing is not often used, because the tower is in need of repair. Lord Clarendon’s parents once occupied that wing but after the accident the earl closed the whole wing off, and no one bothers to