An Agreeable Arrangement Read online

  Other books by Shirley Marks:

  Geek to Chic Honeymoon Husband Miss Quinn’s Quandary

  Shirley Marks

  This title was previously published by Avalon Books; this version has been reproduced from Avalon Books archive files.

  To Faith for seeing the charm in my stories and To Kim for her persistent enthusiasm to hear every word in every bookand believing as I do that Faith is awesome!

  As always … to my darling husband.

  A special acknowledgement to Heidi Ashworth who allowed her characters Sir Anthony Crenshaw and Lord Avery from Miss Delacourt Speaks Her Mind, to make a cameo appearance in this book.

  GGHedgeway Park is and always will be my heart’s desire,” Lady Cassandra Phillips said to no one in particular. “If it is my fate to reside here for all my remaining days, it could not make me happier.”

  Cassie looked at the house and the manicured gardens that stretched around her home before she climbed the stone steps to the garden terrace. She sat in one of the chairs, shaded by a yew tree. Mrs. Hicks, who had followed from the house, carried a pitcher of lemonade. She offered a glass to Cassie then set the tray on the terrace table.

  “Where is the pet?” Mrs. Hicks glanced about for a sign of him. “Romeo? Romeo? Where art thou, Romeo?”

  “I do wish you would not call for him in that manner,” Cassie scolded her housekeeper.

  “You should have given his name a bit more consideration before you presented him with such a burden”

  “I’m sure you’ll find him in some cozy place for an afternoon nap. His morning began with chasing the rabbits from the vegetable patch. There was a large one that led him on an exhaustive chase.”

  “The one with a torn ear?” The housekeeper closed her eyes and steeled herself. “Ah, he’s a devil that one is, sneaking through the thatched fences, around the makeshift barriers, the staff’s clever traps and the like.” She mimicked his movements with a sideways, snake-like wave of her arm. “It’s impossible to keep him out of the garden. The cook’ll sooner add him to her stew or make a nice meat pie, if’n she had the chance.”

  “Well, he has exhausted Romeo quite completely. I’m certain that my pet will have thoroughly recovered once he smells cook’s cakes come out of the oven” Cassie pulled out the chair next to her. “Pray, sit with me, Rosie.”

  “You know the help shouldn’t be taking tea with you, milady.”

  “Bother, you know I don’t consider you a servant. I think of you as family. You nearly raised me yourself after Mama died. And you’ve been a constant comfort after Papa’s death” Cassie gave her a smile. “Besides, this is lemonade, not tea. Now, I beg you, sit.”

  “‘Tis really not right.” Mrs. Hicks hesitated but she finally sat. “You should find a proper lady’s companion, not an old servant. What would people think?”

  “I don’t give a fig what people think,” Cassie said with complete sincerity.

  “Really, milady, I have the household to run.”

  “I mean no offense but you are not as young as you once were. You should let Molly take on some responsibilities.”

  “She is but a child,” Mrs. Hicks gasped.

  “You only wish to see her as such. I’m sure she could run the house quite competently. I do wish you would agree to become my companion. I still need a bit of guidance now and again.”

  “What you need is a husband,” Mrs. Hicks told her.

  Cassie had no reason nor wish to marry. She did not need the protection or financial support of a man. Life was perfect. Her father had seen to that. He’d left her a tidy sum and her home, Hedgeway Park.

  “You are far from being an old maid. You still could make a decent match. If you’d only try,” Mrs. Hicks implored with the tilt of her head. “I know your father would have wanted you to marry.”

  “Fustian! Papa had made plans but he wasn’t really set on seeing them through. They were an old man’s folly, that’s all” Cassie made a moue. “Now, look here, Layette has brought down these magazines. I do wish you would help me look through them.”

  The housekeeper set her pince-nez on the bridge of her nose to examine the fashion plates.

  “Layette mentioned that some of my gowns need to be replaced. I hate to spend the money but I fear she is right.” Cassie handed Mrs. Hicks a few magazines.

  “I believe you’ve always felt that practical clothes were best for a practical woman,” Mrs. Hicks stated.

  “You know me too well.” Cassie began to look for a dress that might appeal to her. “I must admit that I am ready for a change”

  The drab apparel she wore was not her favorite by half. Thank goodness today was the last day of mourning. Although no amount of time would ease the pain of her father’s absence, she could look forward to wearing the clothes she had cast off two years prior.

  A shadow fell across the magazine Cassie read.

  “Excuse me, my lady” Siddons the butler neared. “This arrived only moments ago” He lowered the salver. Cassie retrieved the letter. Siddons and his tray retreated into the house.

  Cassie recognized the scrawl across the front of the missive. If correct, this should be the list of first quarter expenses from the squire, Julian Stewart, the executor of her father’s will.

  “That man is so timely, you could set a clock by his letter’s arrival,” Mrs. Hicks remarked in good humor.

  For the last two years, the financial breakdown of the previous quarter had always arrived on the first day of the second month of the subsequent quarter. Cassie broke open the seal and straightened the single, crisp sheet of paper.

  Instead of the column of numbers on the right side of the page and their corresponding descriptions on the left, this was a short note.

  Cassie’s eyes went wide. She felt the blood drain from her face. She sat bolt upright, sending the fashion plates tumbling from her lap onto the ground.

  “What is it? What’s happened?” Mrs. Hicks sat up in alarm.

  Cassie said nothing. The housekeeper took the letter and read the news for herself.

  “Oh, my!” was all she could manage at first. “I was afraid your father would do something like this.” Mrs. Hicks moaned, echoing Cassie’s dread.

  “This is simply too much!” Cassie refused to believe this was happening to her. “I cannot go through with this!”

  “But dear”-Mrs. Hicks laid a hand upon Cassie’s trembling arm-“this says if you do not marry Edward Stewart, you’ll lose everything: The money your father put aside for you and Hedgeway Park!”

  Cassie spun into her bedroom in a flurry. “Have my trunks brought down and pack my clothes, Layette. In two days’ time, we shall be leaving for Stewart Hall”

  Layette came in from the dressing room. “Most of zee wardrobe `ave already finished airing. I `ave brought in your muslin dresses, zee silk and satin gowns will be finished in plenty of time.”

  “Not those clothes. I wish to bring only my mourning clothes.”

  “Pourquoi? Today eez the last day you need to wear those dresses. You should arrive in your lovely blue traveling dress. It should make such a stunning entrance. Zat evening, you could appear at dinner in your pink silk.” Layette palmed her hands together and twirled. “And what a sensation you shall make when you attend your first soiree in zee yellow satin gown.” The maid needed little help in imagining the romantic notion of attending a ball.

  “Layette, there will be no balls, no soirees, no parties,” Cassie answered, her tone serious, her mood somber. “I plan to convince the squire that I am still mourning my father. I hope it will delay or even prevent my marriage to Edward Stewart.”

  “Prevent zee marriage? Eez not marriage what all English gentlewomen desir
e?”

  “Not this gentlewoman.” Cassie sat at her dressing table and stared into the pier glass. Part of her knew that she might be forced to marry the younger Stewart brother. But not if she could prevent it. “I shan’t marry for convenience or for a silly whim of my father’s.”

  “Must there be a reason for you to marry? Ah, l’amour … then love, perhaps, no?” Layette’s lips bowed into a soft curve.

  “I would gladly marry for love,” Cassie lamented. “If such a fortunate thing were ever to find me”

  In two days time a carriage sent by Squire Stewart had arrived. A pair of matched dappled grays drew the large black closed carriage which stood parked in the drive. Standing outside the front door, Mrs. Hicks sniffed into a handkerchief, muffling her sobs. With the luggage loaded, the transport waited for its the final passenger.

  “Don’t worry, Rosie,” Cassie whispered to the housekeeper. “I have Layette with me and if all goes well, I shall return within the week” Cassie braved a smile, urging Mrs. Hicks not to despair.

  “Romeo!” Cassie called out. The small brown and white terrier came bounding from around the house. He darted toward his mistress and ran a tight circle around her legs. Cassie handed him to Layette, already seated in the carriage. Cassie boarded and sat upon the burgundy seats that smelled of new leather.

  “A safe trip, my lady,” Siddons said over the creaking of the springs of the coach.

  With a crack of the driver’s whip, the horses were off and the carriage started to move.

  Cassie waved good-bye. The last glimpse of Hedgeway Park secured her a dismal view of Mrs. Hicks succumbing to another bout of tears.

  Every mile away from Hedgeway Park made Cassie question her resistance. Every mile toward Stewart Hall made her realize how much she loved her home and what she would do to secure its ownership.

  After the first few hours, Cassie wanted to order the driver to turn back for Yorkshire, but reined the temptation. Sitting in silence, she planned.

  At first, Cassie thought to tell the squire that she was in love with another. However that was far from the truth. Perhaps she could feign illness. That would mean she’d have to be near death now to warrant a recuperation that would take more than several months. Still that would only postpone her fate. She needed a solid reason not to marry Edward Stewart.

  Cassie was not comfortable approaching her father’s executor with a lie. An honest, straightforward manner might yield the best results. Yes, she decided, that might just work.

  After the day’s travel, the carriage pulled up to the Dog and Harp Inn for the night. Despite the name, the proprietors of the establishment did not cater to dogs, whether or not accompanied by harps. The innkeeper wanted to put Romeo in the stable with the rest of the livestock. Cassie would not allow such treatment of her pet and carried the terrier off to her room.

  Cassie and Layette entered their accommodations. Romeo trotted around, found himself a warm spot in front of the meagerly lit hearth and curled before it.

  “This room eez barely passable, my lady” Layette lifted the sheets on the bed, inspecting them. “These linens have not been properly aired.”

  Cassie pulled the maid from the bed. “It is but for one night. This will suffice.”

  An hour had passed when a knock on the door announced supper. The meal of meat stew, sliced bread and tea remained untouched by Cassie and Layette. Romeo cleaned every spoonful, leaving the innkeeper to think the guests had truly enjoyed the culinary fare.

  “Do put yourself to bed, Layette. Our travels will end tomorrow. We must get our rest” Layette turned in for the night. Cassie took her own advice and slipped between the cold sheets after changing into her night rail.

  Cassie managed to close out the distant sounds of voices and rowdiness from the tavern below. The fire crackled in the background while Layette’s quiet snores rumbled in counterpoint to those of the terrier. In no time at all, Cassie fell asleep.

  The next morning a knock at the door announced the arrival of breakfast. Layette answered the door. She set the toast-and muffin-laden tray on the table near the fire, where Cassie sat.

  It would be another full day’s travel ahead of them. Cassie took the Gazette that arrived with the tray. She unfolded the journal and perused the front page.

  Hostilities were growing between the Colonies and England. Napoleon’s ships still threatened English trading vessels. None of which interested her.

  Cassie ignored the increasing flutter she felt. Layette poured a cup of tea and placed a biscuit on a plate for her mistress. The subsequent growl from Cassie’s stomach was not from hunger. It was nerves that plagued her. Her stomach, bound into a tight knot, would not permit her to relax.

  Cassie turned the page. Staring at her from the third page she saw an announcement that bore her name. It read:

  Julian Stewart announces the engagement of Lady Cassandra Phillips, daughter to the late Earl of Thaddbury, to his brother, Edward Stewart. The ceremony will take place on June 18th.

  Cassie gasped. The day before her birthday! How insufferable! And there it was, for all of England to see.

  “Of all the inconsiderate, deceitful tricks!” In a crisp motion, Cassie lifted the paper and folded it, displaying the offensive notice on top.

  Didn’t he know? It was proper for only the bride’s family to publish an announcement. But she had no family. Still, that did not give him the authority to do such a thing.

  The nerve of the man! Cassie would make him print a retraction right away.

  But how, she wondered, would she ever convince him that the marriage would not take place?

  The transport lumbered up the drive of Stewart Hall. Cassie scarcely noticed how much London had grown after ten years. The vehicle came to a halt and the door opened.

  She fairly leaped out, brushed past the footman in the black and gold livery that had assisted her, and gave the other footman, heading for the entrance, no opportunity to knock and announce her arrival. She had no difficulty flinging wide the heavy front door of Stewart Hall with the anger and outrage that fueled her strength.

  The butler bowed, his composure intact. “May I announce you?”

  “I’ll announce myself, thank you” Cassie took a handful of her gray skirt and spun away. With reticule swinging by her side and the Gazette clutched in her hand, she continued unescorted down the long hall, looking for a sign of the squire. She tried to conjure the ideas she’d thought of during the journey to persuade him into changing his mind.

  From the far doorway, Julian Stewart appeared, tall and lean. He looked vaguely familiar. Of course, he was taller now. He was a young man of fourteen the last time she had seen him. She recognized the same wave in his hair, the same angular lines of his face, and the same dark, unreadable eyes. On the fourth finger of his left hand Cassie noticed the signet ring she had seen his father wear.

  At the tender age of nine, she thought herself to be in love with young Julian. He’d shown about as much interest in her then as he did now. None.

  Bits of the speech she memorized came back to her but the closer Cassie neared the more difficult she found it to keep her anger restrained.

  “How dare you make an engagement announcement on my behalf!” Cassie shook the paper only inches from his nose. Her built-up frustration crossed the line of decorum, her self-control fled and she slapped his face. What she really wanted to do was level her reticule at his head. “I cannot conceive of a more presumptuous …”

  The increasing noise of the footmen hauling luggage into the house interrupted Cassie’s tirade. Layette supervised, spouting in French, warning the footmen to take care with the trunks.

  The squire backed into his library, escaping the disturbance. “If you wish me to retract the announcement, Lady Cassandra, it is simply out of the question.” Touching the reddened area on his cheek, he winced.

  “I implore you, sir, do you have any sympathy for your brother?” Cassie thought perhaps if Edward Stewart had
also objected to this marriage, that might sway the squire into helping them avoid the parson’s mousetrap.

  “This arrangement was made long ago” The squire took a seat behind his Sheridan desk.

  “That is precisely the point, sir,” Cassie continued. “Edward and I were mere children. You cannot expect us to go through with that arrangement after all this time.”

  “Our fathers fully expected that you both would honor their wishes. As executor of your father’s will, the late Earl of Thaddbury, it is my duty to see this marriage take place.” The squire lifted his wirerimmed glasses off the blotter. “I, myself, had such a match made and married younger than you and Edward are now and it worked out splendidly.”

  “And your wife, sir, what does she have to say?”

  The squire guided each ear piece to its resting place with precision. “My wife passed away some years ago.” He opened the inkwell and took up his quill.

  “My condolences.” Mrs. Stewart probably died of extreme cold due to direct exposure to her husband.

  The squire dipped the quill and began to pen his letter, not looking up from his work. It was clear to Cassie this man expected unconditional obedience from her and would accept no less.

  “As for matrimonial affection, no doubt Edward will grow fond of you and you him, in time.”

  Cassie stood in front of his desk clutching her reticule. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself from saying something she would, no doubt, later regret.

  “Why now?” she asked.

  “There has been more than sufficient time for mourning. Your father clearly stated you should marry Edward before your twentieth birthday.” He paused, taking a moment to think on the matter. “Quite frankly, I believe Edward needed the time as well. I don’t think he was ready for marriage any sooner than this. It is beyond my imagination that Edward could ever be a settled, happily wedded man”

  “Until now.” Cassie found it hard to believe that this cold and completely unfeeling man could even consider the wishes of his younger brother.