Free Lady John by Madeleine E. Robins Page A

you?” The Earl’s manner laughed the idea
into oblivion. “Besides which,” he added, “the girl’s parents have spoken with
her. I expect you will find her all complaisance and everything that is
agreeable.”
    “Well, then,” Mardries continued with a growing sense of
entrapment. “Perhaps I do not wish to be married to Miss Casserley, whatever
her qualifications.”
    “What is that to the point? D’you wish to bear your father’s
debts on your head for the next ten years? Not to mention that I could cut you
out of all the property that’s not entailed.”
    “To whom would you leave it, sir?” Menwin adopted a tone of
polite interest.
    “Eh? Well, never mind that. Look, Matthew, have you someone
else you’ve fixed your interest with?” For the first time that evening Menwin
sensed a softening in his grandfather. “If there’s some woman you prefer, I can
be reasonable. But I want you married. I want an heir.” For the second time that
evening Olivia Temperer’s smile flashed in his mind; Menwin forced himself to
return to the matter at hand.
    “I’ve no wish to be unkind to you, my boy,” Mardries was
saying. “Now, if you marry Miss Casserley I will settle all your father’s debts—”
    “And Richard’s?” Menwin asked quickly.
    “And your own. And I will settle the Sussex property on you
as well.”
    “You’re very generous, sir,” Menwin said. “I should like
some time to think upon this.”
    “What need have you to think? If there is no other woman you
wish to marry, you had as well wed Miss Casserley. She will make you a
satisfactory wife, and I’m certain she will make no demurs at any little affaires you may have. Seems to be the sort of
woman who’s everlastingly doing good works. A follower of one of those
evangelical fellows, a paragon, to hear Chloris Bellingside speak of her. And
mighty nice, trim ankles. You could do far worse, even without the assistance I’m
offering. But don’t trifle with me, Matt. I want your reply this evening.”
    “May I consider for five minutes, sir?”
    “I’ll leave you alone for just that time,” Mardries agreed. “When
I return I shall expect you to agree to my proposal.”
    “I imagine you would expect it,” Menwin said, but
fortunately the Earl had already left the room.
    Five minutes was either too little time or too much time for
such a decision. On the one hand, there was his very reasonable dislike of the
idea of marrying a perfectly strange female, and one who sounded, from his
grandsire’s description, none too amiable. All choice in the matter was
virtually denied him, since there was no other female he could claim to feel a
partiality for; here Menwin sternly repressed a thought of red hair and a
lavender dress. It was a source of disgust to him that in two and a half years
he had never successfully banished Olivia Temperer from his mind, and the fact
that she, obviously, had had no such trouble, only deepened his resentment. He
returned his thoughts by main force to the matter at hand: marriage. The other
side of the matter was that, in his own way, his grandfather proposed to be
extraordinarily generous with him. All his debts, and Richard’s, and his father’s
paid. The Sussex property, which he recalled as a pretty manor house with some
excellent farmland attached to it, to be given him outright.
    He had not reached his decision when the Earl returned.
    “Well? What’s the answer to be?”
    “I will—take her,” Menwin said slowly. Wished the words
unsaid immediately. Then, quick as turn over, thought that perhaps this would
be the best solution to all his problems. A housekeeper, a wife, a companion.
None of those were bad things. Perhaps the woman would prove more prepossessing
than Mardries’s description of her. “What is the lady’s name again, sir?”
    “Jane, her name is Jane,” the Earl answered. “You’ll not
regret this, boy. Best thing you could do. Marry. Get a couple of heirs. Then,
who’ll