Part 18 (1/2)
”I sent my Valet to London at dawn this morning, ” William replied, ”to procure a Special Licence. He should be here by now, and I have already sent a groom to arrange with the Parson whose Church is within half-a-mile of this Inn, to marry us...
”Let me make this quite clear,” Astara said quietly. ”I have no intention of marrying you.”
”As I have already told you, William replied, ”you have no choice.”
”Do you intend to drag me screaming up the aisle? I imagine no Parson would perform a Service when the bride categorically says no !”
”If that is your intention this afternoon, then the marriage will be postponed until to-morrow morning!
There was something in the way he spoke that made Astara, for the first time, feel afraid.
She was alone with a man in an isolated Inn.
She had seen from the way he was greeted on his arrival and from the way the Inn-keeper had spoken to him during the meal, that he was a frequent visitor to the Inn and was considered a person of importance.
This meant, Astara knew, that if she appealed to the Inn-keeper or the other servants to help her they would not be prepared to do so.
She also thought quickly that if William forced her to stay the night in the Inn with him she would have no alternative the following morning but to become his wife.
She could not help feeling that the way he was forcing her into this position would not really shock or horrify his uncle or anyone except perhaps Lionel.
They would consider it was a sensible, advantageous marriage from both hers and William's point of view. It was, after all, what Sir Roderick desired.
She thought as she had thought before that he had merely included his other two nephews in his arrangements simply to make the whole idea seem more attractive to her.
It was William whom Sir Roderick had chosen to inherit Worfield' House, and how he coerced her into marriage would not ultimately be of any consequence.
She wanted to scream, she wanted to run from the room and away from the Inn, but she knew that William would not let her escape. Any attempt to do so would be merely humiliating.
”I suppose it does not matter to you,” she said aloud, her voice icy and yet restrained, ”that I am in love with some-body else?”
”Vulcan, I suppose!” William answered. ”I saw the way you looked at him last night. It made me realise he was dangerous. ”
He laughed and it was an unpleasant sound.
”Women are always fascinated by wasters and vagabonds, and you are no exception.”
”That is an unfair criticism!” Astara replied hotly.
”Unfair or not, ” William retorted, ”I have no intention of allowing my uncle 's wealth and the family estate to be wasted on a ne 'er-do-well like my Cousin Vulcan. ”
”You are behaving abominably!” Astara stormed. ”Let me make this quite clear ... I hate you! I would rather die than marry you!”
William laughed again.
”You will not die, my dear, and I can a.s.sure you that you will enjoy being married to me. As I have already said, I can bring you every social advantage and you will find that money compensates for a great many other deficiencies. ”
”All the money in the world would not compensate me for having you as my husband!” Astara retorted.
”You think that now, ” William replied, ”but you will grow to love me, perhaps regrettably quickly. I find your defiance intriguing and rather exciting. ”
There was a look in his eyes that made Astara shrink within herself.
She knew that he spoke the truth and that, because she was not as complaisant as his other women had been, she ex-cited him.
He not only wanted the money that the marriage would bring him but herself.
He wanted her in a way she knew was not love, but some-thing she had never encountered before and was called l.u.s.t.
She rose from the table and realised as she did so that William was watching her warily as if he thought she might be inclined to make a bolt for it.
She stood in front of the fireplace in which was smouldering.
Astara was aware that she felt very cold and she knew it was shock and because she was also afraid.
Now over and over in her mind like an animal caught in a trap, she was trying to think of a way of escape; something she could do something she could say that would prevent William from marrying her as he intended to do.
She was wondering which would be worse, to marry him this afternoon or to wait until the following morning.
She was quite certain that if she played for time and was kept a prisoner in the Inn, she would not, however hard she fought, be able to prevent him from making her his.
She might plead with him, she might beg him to spare her, but she had seen the glint in his eyes when he looked at her and she knew he would show her no mercy and there would in fact be no escape.
William rose from the table to come and stand beside her: ”I can see you intend to be sensible about this, ” he said. ”Scenes would get us nowhere and in case you are unaware of it the Landlord will agree to anything I suggest and there are in fact no other guests in the Inn. ”
”I loathe you!” Astara said in a low voice. ”You are every-thing that is foul and despicable!”
William smiled.
”As I have already told you, you will change your mind and by to-morrow morning you will be thanking G.o.d on your knees that you have such an exceptional man as your husband!”
She knew by the way he spoke that he thought she would find him such an admirable lover, as other women had done in the past, that her opposition and indignation would fade away in the night.
The very thought of being touched by William when she loved Vulcan made her s.h.i.+ver.
She looked up at him and wondered how she had ever thought for a moment that he was attractive or that there was anything to commend him.
Now she knew that she would rather embrace a serpent and that she had spoken the truth when she had said she would rather die than become his wife.
Then some part of her brain swept away her fear and the last vestige of the numbness which had made her find it difficult to think ever since she had left Vulcan.
She began to consider without emotion what she should do.
She knew that William was standing watching her and she thought that what made it more unpleasant than anything else was that he was so self-a.s.sured, so absolutely confident that he had won.
She remembered Lionel saying that William must always be first, always be the winner, and that was what he meant to be now.
”I suppose there is no point in making one last appeal to your better nature, ” Astara asked aloud, ”and to your sense of .. , decency?”
”Not the slightest!”