Falling in Love Again Read online

  CATHY MAXWELL

  FALLING IN LOVE AGAIN

  To my sister, Cindy Wollen, with love.

  And to Trudy Bateman, Kay Bendall, and

  Maude Kerby, with appreciation.

  Thank you for being there

  from the very beginning.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  “He didn’t want to marry me,” Mallory Edwards Barron said…

  Chapter 2

  He was determined to be a hell-raiser of a nobleman.

  Chapter 3

  Stunned silence met Mallory’s announcement. Ever so slowly, other guests…

  Chapter 4

  “That’s impossible!” The steel edge in John’s voice could have…

  Chapter 5

  Mallory stared at John, certain he’d gone completely mad. She…

  Chapter 6

  Major Peterson drove them a good distance out of London…

  Chapter 7

  Mallory woke to the sound of someone whistling a jaunty…

  Chapter 8

  Mallory slammed the door shut behind her. “I knew it!”

  Chapter 9

  Mallory practically danced her way home to the cottage. She’d…

  Chapter 10

  Whistling, John lathered up with Mrs. Irongate’s homemade soap. The…

  Chapter 11

  Mallory didn’t learn that John had dismissed Ruth until early…

  Chapter 12

  “Where are you going?” John asked.

  Chapter 13

  The white coverlet on the bed seemed to shine in…

  Chapter 14

  John was faced with two choices: lie or admit the…

  Chapter 15

  John had three impossible tasks before him. The first was…

  Chapter 16

  Mallory ran up to the barn, fearing John might be…

  Chapter 17

  Harvesting fields is hard, back-breaking work.

  Chapter 18

  After church that morning, John joined Lord Woodruff in his…

  Afterword

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Other Books by Cathy Maxwell

  Copyright

  About the Publisher

  Chapter 1

  Here is health unto the man, said he,

  The man they call the groom;

  Here’s health unto the man, said he,

  Who may enjoy his bride.

  “The Green Wedding”

  Craige Castle

  East Anglia, England

  1806

  “He didn’t want to marry me,” Mallory Edwards Barron said in a low, troubled voice. “I could tell.”

  Sitting on the bench in front of the vanity table, she took a steadying breath and met her mother’s gaze in the mirror, daring—no, hoping—Lady Craige would contradict her.

  For the space of a heartbeat, Mallory saw her fears reflected in her mother’s eyes before they were quickly blinked away. Lady Craige lowered the brush from Mallory’s hair in mid-stroke and gave her daughter’s shoulders a reassuring hug. “Of course John Barron wanted to marry you.”

  They spoke in whispers, conscious of the two maids cleaning up after Mallory’s bath. The door leading to the hallway opening and closing behind them let in the hum of conversation, punctuated by laughter, from the wedding guests in the dining room.

  “I overheard him arguing with his father last night in the library, Mother. It sounded as if John didn’t even know he was going to be married until he arrived here. Can that be possible? Would a man not tell his son he’d contracted a marriage for him until the night before the wedding?”

  “Mallory, you are allowing your imagination to run away with your common sense! What does it matter when John discovered he was to be married? What is important is our home, Craige Castle, and that this marriage will make you its future mistress. But first you must consummate your union with John Barron.”

  Mallory’s stomach tightened at the thought. “He barely said two words to me this evening during the wedding feast…”

  Her mother’s gentle squeeze on her shoulder reminded Mallory that they were not alone. Sally, a young village girl who’d been hired to serve as Mallory’s maid for the evening, had returned and was busily turning down the sheets on the ornately carved Elizabethan tester bed that dominated the room.

  Mallory’s own parents had consummated their marriage on this bed, and their parents before them, and the generation before that. And now she was expected to lie with a man she barely knew and fulfill the tradition, the tradition that would give her the right to be known as the Lady of Craige Castle.

  Since the days of William the Conqueror, when William had given this castle to Mallard, his most trusted friend and confidant, each Craige bride had spent her wedding night in this room. Tomorrow morning, the parish priest, Mallory’s mother, and her new father-in-law, Sir Richard Barron, who had inherited her father’s title, Viscount Craige, would come to this room and inspect the sheets for the bride’s blood, proof that Mallory Craige had been a virgin. From that moment on, she and her husband, John Barron, would be truly married in the sight of God and man.

  The sheet would then be hung from the window of this chamber and a day of feasting for the parish surrounding the castle would begin.

  Mallory’s hand shook as she reached for the crystal wine glass on the vanity table. She avoided her image in the mirror. The virginal white of her graceful nightdress drained all color from her face, emphasizing the dark circles under her eyes. One month had passed since her father’s death following a long illness—a month that had turned her life inside out. “My nightdress should be black,” she whispered.

  “Sally, leave us,” Lady Craige told the maid. “I’ll see to my daughter from here.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” the maid murmured before curtseying and moving toward the door. She paused a moment. “If I may be so bold, Miss Mallory, my mother and I wish you happiness in this marriage and want you to know that everyone in the village is resting easier knowing that you will be the lady of the castle.”

  Mallory forced a wan smile. “Thank you, Sally.”

  Sally turned the handle on the door. “We’re also glad you’re marrying such a hale and handsome man, Miss Mallory.” Her cheeks turning pink, the maid slipped through the door.

  “It seems the wedding party is a great success,” Mallory said quietly. The wedding had been kept small out of respect for the family’s mourning, but judging from the sounds coming from the dining hall, the guests were having a good time.

  Lady Craige didn’t answer. Instead, she sat beside Mallory on the bench and took the wine glass from her. She set it on the vanity before rubbing her palm over the top of Mallory’s hands.

  “Your fingers are so cold.” Lady Craige pressed her hands around her daughter’s. “You must believe me when I promise that you have nothing to be afraid of.”

  “I wish it were over. I wish I hadn’t married him. Not now. It’s too soon after Father’s death.”

  Lady Craige’s expression softened. She lightly pushed back a curling tendril of hair from Mallory’s face and tucked it behind her ear. “All brides are nervous. Marriage is a big step. Believe it or not, I was afraid of my first night with your father.”

  “Why couldn’t I have inherited Craige Castle? It’s unfair that in order to keep my birthright I must marry the son of this distant cousin who has inherited it from my father.” Mallory pulled her hand away from her mother and stood. Her gaze fell on the bed, its rose-scented sheets turned down expectantly. Suddenly the room felt hot, close, and she purposely walked over to the window and pushed it open to let in the spring air with its promise of rain.
>
  No moon or stars broke the night’s darkness. For a moment Mallory could believe all the world was a void save for this candlelit room. She turned to face her mother, falling back on blunt honesty. “I was born to run this castle. What does John Barron know of it or the people who depend upon the Craige family for their livelihood? Does he know that Sally is the only support for her crippled mother? Can he calculate the return of a bushel of grain per acre, or understand the need to rotate the crops?”

  “I doubt John knows anything except his studies,” Lady Craige answered. “It will rest on your shoulders to teach him these matters. And don’t ever forget that through this marriage, we are fulfilling your father’s most fervent wish—that your children inherit the castle someday.”

  Mallory slid a glance toward the bed. “Mother, I’m not yet seventeen.”

  “You will be in a month.” She came to her feet. “My dearest child, you are our only hope. If I could have saved you from marrying at such an early age and still kept Craige Castle, I would have. Either way, this is a spectacular match. The Barron family is fabulously wealthy, and someday John will inherit it all. He already has a substantial income from his mother’s side of the family. Mallory, you have become a very rich woman.”

  “But I had dreams. I thought I would have a season in London, like Louise,” she said, referring to Louise Haddon, her best friend, who planned to leave for London in the middle of June. I wanted to go to dances…and to be courted, she added silently. To have the opportunity to fall in love…

  “You could have had a thousand seasons and never have made a match as fine as this one. Furthermore, you’ll live your dreams, but now you’ll be living them with the freedom of a married woman. Of course, you can’t go to London immediately because of our mourning, but Lord Barron has promised to have you presented at court a year from now.”

  Mallory looked down at the sapphire-and-diamond ring John had placed on her finger that morning. The sapphires mirrored the deep blue of his eyes.

  When she had first met John yesterday afternoon, it was as if her imagination had conjured him from her dreams of the perfect man. Considering the haste with which the new Viscount Craige had insisted his son be wed, a haste Lady Craige and Mallory had been forced to agree with, since her father’s death had left them penniless, Mallory had assumed something was wrong with John. She had anticipated that he would be ugly or fat or stupid, even lame! Instead, she’d been presented with a tall, dark-haired, brooding man only three years her senior whose looks were the stuff of romantic novels.

  Almost as if reading her thoughts, Lady Craige said, “Besides, John is exceedingly handsome.”

  Mallory lifted her gaze from the ring. “Actually, he’s far more attractive than I am.”

  “Mallory! How can you say such a thing? You are a lovely young woman.”

  “Oh, Mother.” Mallory moved back toward the mirror, giving her reflection a critical eye. “My chin is too pointed, my mouth too full, and my eyes too small.”

  “You have lovely eyes.”

  “They disappear into slits when I laugh. And then there is my hair.” Mallory pushed her fingers through it. “It refuses to obey and is of such a nondescript brown it’s boring.”

  “That is not true. Your hair is your best feature—”

  “Exactly!”

  Lady Craige ignored her sarcasm. “It’s not boring. It’s thick and full of blonde tendrils.”

  “Mother, my hair is not blonde.”

  “You look exactly like your father’s sister, Jennifer. She was a lovely woman. You have her beauty, her grace, and her spirit, too.”

  “I’m not a beauty, Mama…and I have freckles.”

  Lady Craige put her arm around Mallory’s shoulders. “Yes, you are a beauty, freckles and all. You’re still growing and changing, my love. Wait a few more years. The women on your father’s side of the family always took their time maturing into their looks, and you will, too.” She leaned her head forward so that they touched foreheads. “I know this marriage is hard. It would have been nice if you and John could have had time to get to know each other better—but Mallory, sometimes life doesn’t work out as we wish.”

  “What I wish is that he wasn’t so—” Embarrassed, she broke off.

  “Handsome?” Lady Craige finished for her. “Mallory, John Barron may be a very handsome man, but he has his faults. Don’t ever forget it. Don’t allow his looks to intimidate you.” She paused before adding thoughtfully, “I do like the sound of his voice. Very distinctive, don’t you agree?”

  Yes, Mallory agreed silently. Though he was still young, he had the voice of a man. Raspy and deep, it touched her in ways she’d never thought possible. Standing by his side before the Reverend Sweeney this morning, listening to him repeat his vows, was the first time since her beloved father’s death that Mallory hadn’t felt so alone.

  Her gaze lingered on the bed a moment, and she felt a touch of anticipation. Still, something about this marriage wasn’t quite right.

  “What are those faults, Mother? Why is he marrying me? After all, someday he’ll inherit Craige Castle. He could have married any woman of his choice, yet his father insisted that the two of us marry.”

  Lady Craige’s mouth flattened. She played with the blue and gold ribbons of her lace cap a moment before admitting, “Well, it’s just gossip actually.”

  Mallory was disappointed to realize that her suspicions were correct. “What is it?”

  A knock on the door joining the master bed room to a very large sitting and dressing room startled the two women.

  John! He would have left the wedding party shortly after her own departure and repaired to the adjoining room to prepare for their wedding night.

  He couldn’t be ready yet. No, please, not yet! While Mallory’s heart beat in panic, Lady Craige walked serenely to the door and opened it a crack. “Yes?”

  Mallory caught a glimpse of the man who served as her husband’s valet. “The master wishes to know if his bride is ready.”

  Mallory feared her knees would buckle beneath her. She started to sit down on the bed, then shot back up again. The bed was the last place she wanted to be at this moment. She crossed to the window and stared out into the night.

  In the background, she heard her mother calmly say, “The bride wishes a few more minutes.”

  A few more minutes! Mallory wished she had another year.

  She wasn’t aware that Lady Craige had returned until her mother gently forced the wine glass into her hand. “Take a sip. It will calm your fears.” She smoothed Mallory’s hair. “The marriage bed is not something to be abhorred.”

  Sipping the heady red wine, Mallory wasn’t sure she agreed. Only two nights ago, Lady Craige had sat her down and explained her wifely duties. Even for Mallory, who’d spent her whole life around the care and breeding of animals, this information about what happened between a man and a woman was shocking. She’d led a sheltered, protected life, and the thought that humans were little different from animals startled her. She still wasn’t certain how it was all supposed to work, but she had been too embarrassed to question her mother any further.

  Nor was she going to question her now. Instead, she grasped for anything to delay the inevitable. “What is the gossip surrounding John Barron?”

  Lady Craige shook her head. “You can’t delay your fate, my child.”

  “I can defer it for a few moments,” Mallory retorted. She paused, suddenly vulnerable. “Besides, not knowing him is hard. Is it wrong to ask questions, especially now that I’ve met him?”

  Lady Craige led Mallory back to the bench, sat her in front of the mirror, and began brushing her hair before she said simply, “He’s a bastard.”

  Mallory blinked in surprise, uncertain she’d heard correctly.

  Lady Craige nodded to the unspoken question and replied in a whisper. “He is the illicit offspring of an affair his lady mother had with…well, one can only speculate, but the gossip is that his fathe
r was a stablemaster.”

  “A stablemaster—? But he has the Barron name!”

  Her mother heaved a world-weary sigh. “Something one learns as one grows older, Mallory, is that life is seldom uncomplicated. Knowing Sir Richard as I do now, I can only speculate that pride led him to recognize John as his own son…and, of course, no one would accuse John of being a bastard to Sir Richard’s face. He’s far too powerful. It’s rumored Sir Richard would have nothing to do with his wife once the child was born.”

  “If he was so angry, why did he recognize John?”

  “Because every man wants an heir.” There was a wistfulness in Lady Craige’s voice that reminded Mallory she had once had a younger brother who had died in infancy. Mallory remembered little except the milk smells of the nursery and the sad, quiet conversation of the adults gathered around the crib.

  She reached for her mother’s hand. For a moment, the two women took comfort from each other. Then Lady Craige said, “Sir Richard and his wife were married for years without producing any children. The truth is, Sir Richard was out of the country and his wife in London when John was conceived. Everyone in society who can count on his fingers knows that. I believe Sir Richard fervently hopes he can buy a measure of acceptance for John through your marriage. After all, our family lines are impeccable. And, of course, he will someday be Viscount Craige.”

  Mallory was not that naive. “Certainly there will be sticklers for the proprieties who will never open their door to John.”

  “Or you either, I’m afraid.”

  Her comment stunned Mallory.

  Lady Craige immediately attempted to soften her words. “But those people are the few members of the haut ton who look down their noses at everyone. And who cares about vouchers to Almack’s? Mallory, your husband is a very wealthy man, and we shall keep our home.”