The Wedding Night Affair--An Historical Mystery by L.C. Sharp (i have read the book .TXT) 📗

She pulled at the creases, wishing she could rip the vile thing to a million pieces. Before she gave in to temptation, she handed it back to him. “When did you get this?”

About an hour ago. The Fieldings sent it to me, asking me what I knew. I was about to set out in pursuit of you when you arrived back here.”

Dusk was falling outside. This time yesterday, Juliana had been reconciled, happy that she would have a life to live. “He was going to have me certified as insane,” she said dully. Her own father.

“Yes he was.”

“Then would any marriage he contracted for me have been valid?” Lord Mandrell wanted legitimate sons, so a valid marriage certificate would be important to him.

“I don’t doubt that the certification would have come after your marriage.” Ash was holding himself completely still, a sign that he was exerting considerable effort to contain himself. In short, he was angry.

Not as angry as Juliana. “I can’t believe it. How can he do this?”

“That manor house you were traveling to? I fear it was the Lucas Asylum for the Insane. It’s an experimental institution, where they try different techniques on their patients to try to bring them back to sanity. Poor devils!” he added with a shudder.

“He didn’t care that I would be labeled a murderess all over again.” Even knowing her parents’ lack of interest in her, Juliana was indescribably hurt by such a betrayal. Too hurt to cry.

“Not guilty of murder by reason of insanity,” he said. “The trial would be for manslaughter. And if he packed the jury with his own people, you would be found guilty, but not responsible.”

“What does Fielding think of this?”

“He sent me a note with a brief message. ‘I thought you might like to know. Deal with it any way you please.’”

Juliana squeezed her eyes shut, forcing back the tears. Her parents did not deserve them. “Aren’t you afraid to be in the same room as me?”

A sound reached her ears, a grunt followed by the most incredible sound; Ash was laughing.

She opened her eyes.

“Hardly,” he said. “I’ve just asked you to marry me.” Ash’s voice softened. “I tried to spare you knowing this, but I decided that you needed to be aware. Know as well that I don’t want to marry you because of this, but because of the person you are.”

That last comment staggered her. But she had to agree with him. There was nobody she would rather marry. “But once we’re married my father will want a child.”

He turned to the window, then back again, as if unsure of his next words. But he said something anyway. “We do not have to make one.”

Living in a celibate marriage? Was that what he meant? She swallowed, and tentatively approached the subject. She didn’t want to insult him. “You mean be—a brother and sister in marriage?”

“Yes,” he said without turning around. “You are uncomfortable when people touch you. You have had no time to recover from the terrible things that happened to you on your wedding night. I would give you that time. You would be safe here, as safe as I can make it.”

When she didn’t reply, he continued, “I made it clear to your father that I would not accept his title, that I would object to his plans to invest the title in your husband. However, there is the possibility that he could foist it upon us. It could be done. At best, the issue could be a constant battle.”

He was smiling. “Our marriage will be unusual, but not impossible. I would love you to continue to help me in my work, and we are good friends, are we not? We can make a success of what we have. Marry me, Juliana.”

Chapter Thirty

Two days later, in the pleasant drawing room of the house in Lincoln’s Inn Fields, Lady Uppingham became Lady Ashendon. As the daughter of an earl, she had the right to be styled Lady Juliana Ashendon, a subtle difference that the whole of society would understand, but she rejected the idea. “If I am doing this, I will do it properly. I want nothing to do with my father, or my last husband,” she told the bewildered vicar who held the ceremony.

Ash had pulled all the strings he could to ensure he had the special license in his hand by the end of the second day. He wanted the union to be completely regular, no doubt about its authenticity.

Juliana, still unsure of the step she was taking, nevertheless understood its necessity. Her father had the right to send people to remove Juliana by force, if she was still under his guardianship. Might was right, and once he’d done the deed, undoing it would take considerable difficulty. So best not to do it at all.

She had spent the intervening time upstairs in a room that anyone from outside couldn’t reach without walking past a servant. Guarded carefully. She worked with Ash on the papers he had collected, making notes in companionable silence, the occasional question or statement breaking the silence. She had done that after dinner last night until bedtime.

Glad that her original wedding gown was not available, Juliana found an apricot satin, which seemed festive enough. With nothing better to do, when she’d chosen it, she’d searched all the drapers of London to find the exact shade that wouldn’t clash with her dark red hair. Now she had left off wearing hair powder, the match was even more important.

But she looked to advantage in it. The wide skirts belled over a matching petticoat.

Ash wore a pale pearl-gray waistcoat, and a suit of blue. He’d made an effort, too. His usual precise mode of dress had a festive air today, and he’d had a servant sew on his gilt buttons to celebrate the occasion.

Amelia and Gregory were delighted they were to have someone else living in the house, a person they could call sister. None seemed to think the arrangement odd,