They Sought love Read online

  Part of her was sad that the wedding that had filled her dreams was reduced to this unemotional arrangement. Yet part of her was glad. Keeping matters cool would help her stay in control.

  It seemed as though the news had gone around the household, so that when they drew up outside Torrington Castle and Robin gave her his hand to help her down from the carriage, all the servants were pressed against the windows, eagerly gazing down.

  There was another face at an upstairs window, but the Dowager drew back hastily before her son could look up and see her. Her face was full of anxiety as she made her way slowly back to her bed and lay down.

  From her dressing gown pocket she drew the letter that Celina had sent her that morning, breaking off the engagement, and read it again. Then she closed her eyes and prayed with all her might.

  After a moment there was a light knock on the door before Celina’s head appeared. At once she ran into the room, darting towards the bed.

  “My dear ma’am, forgive me if I have upset you,” she said fervently. “I did not mean to do so. I had no idea that you were so ill.”

  “I am sorry to be troublesome,” the Dowager sighed weakly. “Ah, Robin, my dear boy!”

  She held out her hand to him as he had entered the room behind Celina and now approached the bed.

  “It is all right, Mama,” he said. “Celina had doubts about such a hasty arrangement, but we have had a long talk and I think I have calmed her fears.”

  “That was all it was?” the Dowager asked anxiously.

  “Indeed, ma’am, that is all,” Celina said, as cheerfully as she could.

  “We have been friends for so long that she thinks she could put up with me after all,” Robin added.

  “Truly?” the Dowager breathed, looking from one to the other, and clutching Celina’s hand tightly. “Truly?”

  “Truly,” Celina replied.

  “You will marry him? Let me hear you say it.”

  Celina raised her head and found Robin watching her. For what seemed like an eternity their eyes met. Then Celina said quietly,

  “I will marry him.”

  The Countess fell back against her pillow.

  “Thank Heavens!” she sighed. “Now I can die happy.”

  “I beg you not to talk of dying,” Celina urged.

  “But I must. I am old and ill and long to see my son settled with a good wife. My dear, I know you are the right person. Do not delay the wedding. Let it be as soon as possible.”

  “As soon as you wish,” Celina agreed.

  “It must be held in our private Chapel. I will send for the Vicar at once and explain everything to him. And you, my dear, must now have a fitting for your dress if it is to be ready in time.”

  Celina agreed. She was becoming dazed with the speed at which events were moving and the way everything was being taken out of her hands.

  “But before you go,” the Dowager continued weakly, “there is one more thing.”

  As they watched she drew her wedding ring from her finger, followed by her engagement ring with its huge sapphire surrounded by little diamonds.

  “This ring has never left me,” she murmured, “since the tenth Earl put it on my finger on the day of our betrothal. Now it will be yours. Let me see you wear it.”

  She handed it to her son. Solemnly he took Celina’s left hand in his and slid the ring up her finger.

  “Now you will be my wife,” he said quietly.

  She gazed at the ring, wondering how this could be happening.

  A wave of emotion threatened to engulf her, but she fought it down, knowing that she must stay in command of herself or she would be swept away by her feelings.

  “Yes, I shall be your wife,” she agreed in the same sombre voice.

  “My son, you should kiss her,” the Dowager suggested wistfully.

  “Not today, ma’am,” Celina said quickly. “Until the wedding I am not truly a bride.”

  “Be patient, Mama,” Robin said, in a more gentle voice than Celina had ever heard him use before.

  He leaned down and kissed his mother on the cheek.

  Watching him, Celina realised that this was the one woman that he truly loved. His manner to her was tender and full of warmth. It was like seeing a different man, and she thought wistfully that she would like to meet this other side of him. But it seemed that he kept it only for his mother.

  She left them hurriedly and walked upstairs to where Mrs. Ragley was anxious to fit the dress onto her.

  When everything was in place she looked at herself in the mirror and could hardly believe what she saw.

  Could this vision in white satin and lace really be herself? Could such a dreamy, romantic-looking bride really be the woman who was about to enter an arranged marriage with a man who did not love her?

  There was a knock on the door.

  “May I come in?” came Robin’s voice.

  Mrs. Ragley gave a little shriek.

  “No, my Lord! You must not see the bridal gown before the big day.”

  She ran and stood with her back to the door, ready to repel all-comers.

  It gave Celina a weird feeling of unreality to see the conventions being strictly observed, as though this was a normal wedding.

  But she, too, did not want him to see her gown before she walked down the aisle.

  *

  When she had hurriedly changed, Robin escorted her home and asked to see her uncle. “I need to ask his permission to marry you,” he announced grandly. Uncle James, drawn away from some fascinating research in his library, seemed a little bemused by the question and indeed by the whole situation.

  “You have already agreed?” he asked Celina.

  “Yes, uncle. I have agreed to marry him and I hope you will give me away.”

  “Oh, well – of course, if it’s all arranged. You must let me know when you settle the date.”

  “The day after tomorrow,” Robin informed him.

  “Oh, dear me, I am afraid I cannot manage that. I have several engagements scheduled for that day.”

  “One o’clock in the afternoon, in the private Chapel of Torrington Castle,” Robin continued remorselessly. “I shall look forward to seeing you.”

  And thus he disposed of anyone or anything that might dissent to his plans, Celina thought wryly. She too had tried to dissent, and he had overcome her with a kiss whose apparent passion had not quite hidden the cynical ruthlessness lying beneath.

  “Ah,” said Uncle James. “I suppose, in that case, I had better be there.”

  That was his only comment, except to ask Celina anxiously that night,

  “Is this really what you want, my dear?”

  “Yes, dear uncle. I am quite content.”

  “Well, it is a good marriage, although such a quiet ceremony is hardly the way I thought to see you wed.”

  “It is only because the Dowager Countess is ill. She may die at any moment, so everything has to be completed in a rush.”

  “Yes, but the future Countess of Torrington deserves a big ceremony in the sight of the whole neighbourhood. Not a little service in a private Chapel, with only a couple of people there. But if you are happy with this arrangement, there is no more to be said.”

  “Of course I am happy. I am not a glowing young bride, but an old maid, ‘on the shelf for years’ and grateful to seize her last chance,” she replied in a teasing voice.

  “On the shelf for years?” he echoed. “Nonsense! Who would dare to make such a remark?”

  “Nobody,” she answered, “but muted celebrations are most suitable for this occasion.”

  On the next day Mrs. Ragley delivered her dress and announced that she would stay overnight and dress her the next day. This caused Celina’s maid, Agnes, to take furious offence, but Mrs. Ragley only sniffed. Clearly she did not consider Agnes up to the job of dressing a future Countess.

  Eventually they settled on a truce and attired the bride together. Her bouquet was fresh flowers plucked from the garden th
at morning, and on her head were the famous Torrington pearls, sent over by the Dowager.

  Despite her common sense words to her uncle, Celina felt a lifting of her heart when she surveyed herself in the mirror.

  When Robin saw her advancing towards him down the aisle, surely he would see her with new eyes?

  The future could be happy for them and together they might yet find love.

  “My dear,” her uncle said, “I have never seen you looking so glorious. It is as though you have a light shining from within you.”

  “I feel as though I have,” she exclaimed joyfully. “Oh, Uncle James, I feel as though today is truly the beginning of a new and wonderful life.”

  “In that case,” he said, giving her his arm, “let us go forward to your new life without delay.”

  Together they walked down the stairs, eagerly watched by all the servants who had gathered to wish her well, then out of the main doors into the glittering sunlight on her way to the beginning of her new happiness.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  As they turned into the gates of the castle Celina saw, with a shock, that the driveway was crowded with carriages. It seemed incredible that, in such a short time, invitations had been sent out and accepted.

  Of course, she thought, nobody would want to miss the wedding of Lord Torrington, even at the last minute.

  A powdered footman descended the steps to open the door of their carriage and usher them inside. Celina was dazzled by the profusion of flowers that were festooned everywhere.

  A gentleman appeared whom Celina recognised as Lord Michael Ashley, Robin’s second cousin, and now seemingly acting as unofficial host. He smiled, greeted her and shook her uncle’s hand.

  “Perhaps I should go upstairs to see her Ladyship before we start,” she suggested.

  “The Dowager Countess is waiting in the Chapel,” Lord Michael informed her.

  “I thought she was too ill to leave her bed.”

  “She had herself brought downstairs in a wheelchair. She said that nothing could make her miss Robin’s nuptials.”

  “Of course. Then we must certainly not keep her waiting.”

  She thought how brave of the Dowager to insist on being present.

  Lord Michael led them to the Chapel at the side of the castle, opened the door a crack and looked in.

  He must have given a signal, because at once the organ began to play, “Here comes the bride.”

  “Ready?” Uncle James whispered.

  “Quite ready.”

  The door was flung open. She had a confused view of the Chapel, the aisle stretching before her up to the altar, and then it was time to move.

  As she glided in and began the journey to where Robin was waiting, she realised that the Chapel must be much larger than she had ever appreciated.

  It was packed with people as far as the eye could see.

  Mostly they were a blur, but now and then her eye could pick out faces. There was Viscountess Carolmaine, once Lady Violet Manyard, who had schemed to marry Robin herself, until Celina had alerted him to the danger.

  Marriage had not improved her temper if her chagrined expression was anything to go by.

  But she had no time to waste on Violet. Her great moment was approaching, when she would become the wife of the man she adored.

  Like a majestic white swan she floated down the aisle to the altar. Now she could see the Dowager, smiling as she watched the bride approach.

  And there was Robin, standing very still and tense, his eyes fixed on the vision in white satin that was slowly coming towards him. And his expression was of a man who had received a stunning shock.

  Celina’s heart lifted. This was what she had longed for, to see him looking at her as though he had never seen her before. Suddenly there was hope.

  She wanted to run to him, but she resisted the temptation and glided gently to his side, smiling with a gentle inner triumph.

  The Vicar cleared his throat and began,

  “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here to join together this man and this woman – ”

  She had never seen Robin look so handsome. He was grave and solemn as he took her hand, saying,

  “I, Robin, take thee Celina, to my wedded wife – ”

  She clung to every word, especially, “to love and to cherish.”

  She would make it happen, she promised herself.

  She made her responses in a clear voice that she tried to keep steady, but she could not prevent a slight tremble as she intoned, “to love, cherish and to obey.”

  Then came the moment when he slid the ring onto her finger, saying,

  “With this ring I thee wed. With my body I thee worship – ”

  Then it was over. The Vicar smiled and said,

  “You may kiss the bride.”

  Robin was smiling as he raised her chin with his fingers and laid his lips softly on hers.

  At once a violent, almost uncontrollable tremor shook her. Unlike the fierce kiss he had given her earlier, his mouth was barely touching hers. And yet the feelings that coursed through her were even more intense than on that wonderful occasion.

  Every inch of her was alive to him, longing for his touch. It was the most shattering sensation of her life, and when he released her she was gazing at him in amazement.

  She thought she caught a glimpse of a new expression in his eyes, as though he too had been taken aback. But then it vanished and she could not be sure.

  Next they were walking back down the aisle to where the Chapel door led out into the hall. From here it was a short step to the banqueting hall where the long tables were laid out for the guests.

  Like the Chapel, this too was packed to the roof. Flowers from the gardens were placed in posies along the tables, and the best Torrington china was laid out with crystal glasses.

  It was obvious that the Torrington chef and his staff had been working long hours. The towering wedding cake testified to his skills.

  The bride and groom and their relatives were placed in the centre of a table raised on a dais. From here Celina could look down the room and take in the sight of the guests hurrying to find their seats.

  “Is something the matter?” Robin asked her.

  “No, it’s just – just that I had not expected to see so many people here.”

  “My mother issued her commands and naturally everyone jumped to obey,” he said with wry humour. “You will find that the power of a Countess is considerable.” Then he added with a wicked gleam, “not as great as a Marchioness, of course.”

  “I think we should agree to consider that matter closed,” she commented with a prim air.

  He gave a broad grin which made him look more attractive than ever and she laughed with him.

  Guests watching them, thought how charming it was to see a bridal couple so pleased with each other and, obviously, so much in love.

  The Dowager, her eyes on them, saw their laughter and crossed her fingers.

  Despite the strangeness of the arrangements the wedding feast was very much as a feast should be. Speeches were made, although they were shorter than was normal and contained no jokes.

  Robin, who prided himself on being master of every situation, made an elegant speech in which he complimented his bride, but saved his greatest praise for his mother.

  “She has been the finest mother a man could ever have,” he said. “She has run the estate for me when I was unable to be present – ”

  There was a slight stir in the banqueting hall. Of all those seated at the gorgeous tables there were few who did not know the true reason behind his absences.

  But Robin ignored the murmur and continued,

  “Everyone who knows her, loves her, and I ask you to raise your glasses to her now.”

  Everyone did so, including the new young Countess, who gave her mother-in-law a special smile and received one in return.

  Overwhelmed by love and gratitude she rose to her feet and ran to the Dowager, passing behind Robin’s chair.
r />   The old Dowager reached up and drew the bride’s head down to plant a kiss on her cheek.

  “I knew I was right,” she whispered. “We did it, didn’t we?”

  Celina was not quite certain what these last words meant. So she merely smiled and said,

  “Yes, indeed we did.”

  As she returned to her seat she was aware of Robin eyeing her curiously, but before he could speak the band began to play and it was time for the new husband and wife to dance together.

  With an elegant gesture he took her hand and led her onto the floor. Then his arm was about her waist and the groom was swirling the bride around the floor, her dress and veil flaring out so that she seemed to be enveloped in a magic cloud.

  “My congratulations,” he said. “You have contrived to look magnificent. You do me credit.”

  She would have preferred something a little more romantic, but she cherished the compliment, smiling up into his face and saying,

  “Every bride hopes to hear her groom say such lovely words.”

  “Of course, we are not exactly like most brides and grooms,” he observed.

  “I should hope not. How boring to be just like the others!”

  “You speak the truth!”

  “And now I come to think of it, I don’t believe I have ever known a time when you were just like other men.”

  He grinned.

  “You may find that I am even more original than you give me credit for, ma’am.”

  She gave a teasing laugh.

  “I look forward to it.”

  He held her closer.

  “So do I, ma’am. I promise you, so do I.”

  His words sent her into a daze of delight, for they seemed to hold much promise for the night to come.

  If only, she thought, all these people would go home and leave them alone together. Then he would come to her and make her truly his wife. Heated tremors of anticipation coursed through her body.

  Meeting his eyes, she saw that he was regarding her intently and she wondered if he had sensed what was happening to her.

  She knew that if he had she ought to be ashamed, for a virtuous bride was supposed to know nothing of passion until her husband taught her.