The Marriage Contract (Marriage #3) - Cathy Maxwell Page 0,2

“How did you know?”

“Being a woman isn’t easy. Unless we are insipidly stupid—something I don’t believe you are—we have all chafed at the restrictions others place on us, or at being paraded like cattle on an auction block. Since Sir Rupert mentioned your name, I’ve made it my business to know everything about you.”

“Even about my father?”

Lady Waldo laughed, the sound rough like a metal wagon wheel over cobbles. “Everything.”

“And you still found me suitable?”

“I have run out of suitable candidates, Miss Burnett. I am desperate.” She leaned forward. “And I sense you are desperate, too.”

She was right. Anne hated living with her relatives who begrudged her every morsel of food, every article of clothing. They’d branded her a failure because she couldn’t bring a young man up to snuff. It didn’t matter to them if the man was a fool or dull or dissolute. Or if Anne felt nothing for him. Passion, love, honor—all the values her parents had taught her to respect and admire—were unimportant to her selfish relatives…and to Society.

Her gaze shifted to the poetic, handsome face of the young man in the miniature. His were the features of a scholar. They were sensitive, thoughtful. Yet she’d heard him referred to as the Madman of Scotland. Society wouldn’t have made up such a name from thin air if it wasn’t true, would they?

Then again, when had Society ever been right about her?

And yes, something inside her thrilled to the thought of at least having a handsome husband, one that would make Aunt Maeve’s silly daughters, all successfully married, “ooo” and “ahhh” with admiration.

Plus, she would be a countess. Countess Tiebauld.

“Why are you smiling?” Lady Waldo asked.

Anne wasn’t about to confess the small-minded direction of her thoughts. Instead, she said, “You give your word of honor that my child would be free of any mental affliction?”

“There is no madness in our family,” Lady Waldo said with irritation. “That was rumor, nonsense.”

And isn’t there a seed of truth in all rumor? But Anne didn’t voice the question. Instead, she bargained. “Will I have control of my own fortune?”

“Once you give birth. I will have Sir Rupert draw up papers transferring funds to you immediately.”

“I will raise the child?”

“Of course, you are its mother.”

Anne wasn’t so naïve as to think it would be as simple as that but she accepted Lady Waldo’s promise. After all, what choice did she really have?

She reached for the marriage contract. Her hand was steady as she lifted the pen from its inkpot. Her husband’s name seemed to jump out at her from the paper. Aidan Black, Earl Tiebauld. “What if he doesn’t want me?”

“He has no choice,” Lady Waldo said serenely. “The document in front of you has the full blessing of the Church and the State.”

“But he has not agreed?”

Their eyes met. The corner of Lady Waldo’s mouth lifted. “No. It will be your responsibility to inform him.”

“Can you marry a man off without his permission?”

“With the grace of the Crown, I can do anything I wish.”

Anne stared at the contract in front of her, her mind barraged by a million doubts—and yet she signed.

Sir Rupert, Uncle Robert, and Aunt Maeve were invited in and there was much celebration amongst them, save for Anne. She picked up the miniature and held it in her palm, studying the painted lines for clues to explain the strange circumstances of her marriage.

She overheard Sir Rupert whisper to Lady Waldo, “Did you tell her everything?”

“I told her what she needed to know to reach the right decision,” was the reply.

“But did you mention Major Lambert’s report—?”

“No.”

Anne wanted to hear more, but Lady Waldo sensed she was listening. Their gazes met and then Lady Waldo smiled. “Welcome to the family, my dear.”

Chapter 1

It rained almost every day of the trip from London up into Scotland. Side roads were mired with mud up to a man’s knees, damp spring weather chilled a person to the bone, a broken coach wheel waylaid them for three days, bad food and uncomfortable beds met them at every stop—and Anne loved it all. This was the great adventure of her life.

She rode in Lady Waldo’s well-sprung coach with the Waldo coat of arms on the door and enjoyed the attention she received in passing villages. She’d not had so much freedom since her parents were alive and for the first time felt as if she were coming into her own. Marriage was a good thing.

When the “proper” maid Aunt Maeve had hired quit