The alternate bride

 

Alternate Bride

Chapter 1                                                        

 

“I suppose I shall have to have Jane as a bridesmaid; it will look strange if I don’t,” sighed Madelaine Daubrey.

“Such a plain child, but she could wear a veil, I suppose,” sighed her mother. “She’s no real relation, of course.”

“But she is Papa’s stepdaughter,” said Madelaine.

Jane might wish her stepsister and her stepsister’s mother did not speak about her as if she was not there, in the manner they discussed things in front of servants. But she was no real relation of anyone except little Tommy. Her mother had married her stepfather, Henry Daubrey, and after a series of miscarriages had finally brought Tommy alive into the world, and had quietly slipped out of it herself. Henry Daubrey had remarried rapidly, to a widow with a daughter two years older than his own stepdaughter. Helen, his new wife, had made it clear that she had no intent to breed herself to death, but would raise Tommy as his father’s heir. She doted on Tommy, and found Jane an embarrassment. School had taken care of ‘that tiresome child’ for a while, but at nearly seventeen, Jane had nothing more to learn at the admittedly very good school where she had spent the last six years.

“I don’t mind being in the background,” she said.

“No, of course you don’t, Jane, dear, but it will look odd to your father’s friends if you are not part of the wedding,” said Helen.

“Stepfather,” murmured Jane. It was her mild rebellion.

“Well, I am sure he considers himself your father,” said Helen.

Jane doubted this, but said nothing.

Madelaine had snared – her own words – the season’s big prize, in Gerard, Lord Wintergreen, known to many as Lord Winterheart for his cold and haughty manner. Jane, however, knew that the soubriquet was unjustified. Lord Wintergreen had come upon her crying over being unable to persuade the servants in the house they were visiting to give her Madelaine’s choice of drink, which was not commonly available. He had swiftly intimidated the servants to obtain ratafia, and called Jane a ‘little mouse’.

“You should learn to be a more aggressive mouse,” he said, patting her kindly on the shoulder.

Jane wished she might learn to be a more aggressive mouse, and had lost her heart to the tall, dark, handsome viscount in that moment. It was an agony to know that he had picked Madelaine as a suitable bride, and to see her beautiful step-sister’s blonde curls the perfect foil for Wintergreen’s dark, crisp locks. And she doubted he had even known who the little brown-haired, brown-eyed mouse had been.

She was wrong, here, and Gerard knew exactly who the other stepsister was. However, he was under the impression that Jane was considerably younger than Madelaine, and a sweet child, but too gauche to be a viscountess.

“I suppose you will have to give up seeing Mr. Vane,” said Jane, timidly.

“Give up seeing Freddie? Why should I?” said Madelaine. “I am making a marriage of convenience, and Gerard is an excellent catch.  I will have to provide him with an heir, of course, before I let Freddie bed me, but there’s plenty one may do without risking pregnancy. And Freddie is Gerard’s best friend, so there will be plenty of opportunity to see him.”

“I don’t think it very much the act of a best friend to carry on with a man’s bride behind his back,” ventured Jane.

“If you’d stopped after three words, you would have been correct,” snapped Helen. “Marriage à la mode has nothing to do with love.”

“I was thinking more of courtesy,” murmured Jane; but she did not murmur loud enough for her stepmother to hear.

 

It bothered Jane that her sister was having an affaire with Freddie Vane whilst being betrothed to Lord Wintergreen. She wished she could warn Lord Wintergreen, but it seemed a mean, underhanded piece of spite to tell tales on her stepsister. But she was angry on behalf of the groom.

She did manage to slip out to speak to him when he had come to pay a courtesy visit.

“My lord, I... I know that my behaviour must seem strange and can but cause offence,” she whispered, “But you were kind to me, and... and I hope you do not think that my stepsister is in love with you.”

“Why, little mouse, did you suppose I entered a betrothal supposing her affection to be engaged with my person more than my title and bank account?” asked Gerard.

“Well, yes,” said Jane. “Everyone falls in love with Madelaine, because she’s so beautiful, and she has witty conversation.”

“How sweet you are to say that without the appearance of jealousy,” said Gerard.

“A mouse is a little afraid of such things as would make her noticeable,” said Jane.

“I suspect that’s habit,” said Gerard. “But do not fear; I consider your sister a suitable wife, and my heart is no more engaged than hers is.”

“Oh, how sad,” said Jane.

“I need an heir, and I cannot afford any sentiment,” said Gerard. He patted her cheek. “Go back inside, little mouse, and do not worry about me.”

Jane dropped a curtsey and fled.

 

oOoOo

 

The day of the wedding dawned, and Jane was run off her feet running errands for Madelaine.

“Madelaine, if I don’t have time to dress, I’ll shame you in having to support you in my old calico, and my hair in braids,” said Jane, at last. “I’ll barely have time to scramble into the bridesmaid’s dress and brush out my hair as it is. Or was that the idea, because you don’t want me there?”

“Whatever gave you the idea that I don’t want you there?” said Madelaine. “I need someone as plain as you to help me look more beautiful.  But you are right, you must dress properly, and do your hair. Having you in rags like Cendrillon is not seemly. Go! Go! I will manage.”

Jane fled to put on the new gown which matched Madelaine’s in style. It was fortunate that Madelaine had decided that she and her supporters would be in apple-blossom pink, as pink was a colour which flattered Jane sufficiently that when she looked at her image in the mirror, a rather fly-blown old thing, but good enough for the poor relation, she could almost fancy herself to be beautiful. Her cheeks held a touch of colour, doubtless from having run about all day from the time the sun rose, and nothing to do with the chance of seeing Lord Wintergreen.

After all, after today, he would be her brother.

Not that he would be her brother, being only a step-step-brother-in-law and as closely related as if he were he some Irish nobleman of long, but well-buried bog pedigree.

And it did no good to wish she had a real relation to look after her.

Well! It was nice for this Cendrillon to go to the ball, even if she must watch Prince Charming marry her sister. And Madelaine was thoughtless, but not unkind, and things could have been worse.

 

 

When they reached the church, Madelaine looked out of the coach window, and pressed her kerchief to her lips.

“Go on in, Mama, Jane, I... I want to compose myself,” she said.

“Oh, Madelaine! How will you climb out with that train without help?” said Mrs. Daubrey.

“I’ll call for someone to help me,” said Madelaine. “I... I need to be alone with my thoughts for a while.

Jane was not sure what made her look back at the coach as Mrs. Daubrey hustled her into the church; but look back she did, and saw the coach rock as if someone was climbing in on the other side. The leather curtain on the door window was pulled firmly down. Jane had a bad feeling about this.

“Don’t dawdle, child,” said Mrs. Daubrey.

Jane turned, and found that Lord Wintergreen was waiting.

“Madam, Miss Jane,” said Gerard. “My bride?”

“Oh, Madelaine merely has wedding nerves, she wished to compose herself,” said Mrs. Daubrey.

Jane hesitated. Should she speak out? Or not? She did not want to be disloyal to the nearest thing she had to family, but on the other hand, it wasn’t fair to Lord Wintergreen.

“My lord, perhaps you ought to go to her; after all, it is the middle of town, a young girl alone in a coach might be at risk,” said Jane.

“Oh, Jane, what an idea, in the middle of all these people,” said Mrs Daubrey. “It’s bad luck for the groom to see his bride in her wedding finery before the wedding.”

“Well, madam, I believe it is time for the wedding,” said Gerard, who had seen pleading in the younger girl’s eyes. Jane felt it was important to see Madelaine, and Gerard, for some reason, trusted her feelings.

He strode out of the church, nodding to Henry Daubrey, who was hovering near the door of the church, looking somewhat vexed that his daughter had not joined him to go up the aisle on his arm.

 

Madelaine had paled to look out of the coach window into the haunted eyes of her beloved Freddy Vane.

She sent her mother and stepsister on and opened the door a sliver.

“Oh, Freddy! I wish you will come and say goodbye properly,” she whispered.

Freddy Vane climbed up into the coach and twitched down both curtains.

“The hell!” he said. “I cannot give you up; but if I must think of Gerard in your bed, I’ll be damned if I let him be first with you.”

“Freddy!” gasped Madelaine, who had not yet permitted Freddy to do more than heavy petting. She was nothing loath, however, and folded the heavy train under her as he laid her down on the floor and dropped his trouser fall.

 

Gerard pulled open the carriage door to be confronted by a pair of heaving buttocks. The buttocks were surmounted by a good quality superfine coat, and were supported by legs clad in satin knee-breeches, so there was no question that this was some chance brigand.  Madelaine’s voice happily mewing ‘Freddy! Freddy!’ was also something of a clue to the identity of her lover, and the fact that she was not unwilling.

Madelaine’s first session of lovemaking was rapidly terminated with her first coitus interruptus, as Freddy, breeches round his knees, was precipitated forcibly backwards and out of the coach, where he sprawled in the mud.

“Make yourself decent, madam, and have the goodness never to speak to me again,” said Gerard, coldly. “Freddy, I’m too furious to call you out yet, but I suggest you take yourself abroad. You can take your whore with you; I’ll not marry soiled goods.”

Freddy gaped.

“At least I love her, an emotion of which you are incapable,” he managed.

“You poor fool, I wonder how much love she will retain for you when your allowance is cut off as it assuredly will be when I tell your father,” snarled Gerard.  “Daubrey!  I am going to do you the courtesy of assuming you knew nothing of this betrayal, and the planting of a cuckoo into the nest of my family.”

“I knew nothing, my lord, nothing,” said Henry Daubrey. He turned to Freddy. “Young man, you will marry my daughter having ruined her. And you can buy a licence to do so straight away.  I...  I can only apologise, my lord....”

“I’ll marry the other one,” said Gerard.  “I’m to marry Miss Daubrey, but I’ll marry Miss Jane Daubrey.”

“It... she kept her father’s name,” said Henry Daubrey.

“She can be married with both as you have adopted her,” said Gerard. He strode up the aisle and grabbed Jane by the arm.

“You knew.”

“I suspected only,” whispered Jane. “I... I said she should give up her dalliance with your friend.”

“Former friend,” snarled Gerard. “I caught him planting a cuckoo in my nest.”

Jane gasped.

“I did not know they had gone so far!” she said.

“No, your sister seems to have been a sly piece all told,” said Gerard. “But I know who your father was, and I’m as happy to have one as the other. You have a better complexion than your sister, and I suspect she’ll be fat inside a decade. You’ll be married as Jane Henderson Daubrey, it will upset the clergyman less.”

“And do I get a say?” asked Jane.

“Were you going to refuse when you have the chance to escape and have the things I am pretty sure you have been denied?” asked Gerard.

“I might,” said Jane, putting up her chin. “Being picked to be a bride because ‘I’ll do’ is scarcely flattering to me.”

“The hell!” said Gerard. “It’ll be a dreadful scandal if no marriage at all goes ahead.”

“I don’t care,” said Jane.

“What must I promise you?”

She frowned in thought.

“You must promise me that you will court me as if we were unmarried, and persuade me that I want to be your wife, and you will not expect marital rights until you have made sure that we know each other, and I have accepted your suit,” said Jane.

“The mouse has roared,” said Gerard. “Madam lion-mouse, I bow to your will.”

 

The rest of the day passed in a whirl for Jane; the clergyman told that a mistake had been made because the older of two sisters had only just made up her mind to wed.  And Madelaine must suffer seeing her step-sister married to her matrimonial prize whilst she was married unexpectedly to her Freddy, who was wondering how he was to keep so expensive a wife when he could no longer rely on Gerard to touch for a loan.

It was not until she was in Gerard’s carriage, seated beside him, that it started coming home to Jane that she was married to Gerard, Lord Wintergreen, and that he had agreed to court her.