Marigold Chain by Stella Riley Page A

Morland.
    The Reverend
retaliated by trying to close the window.
    ‘ Now,
now,’ reproved Mr Deveril, grabbing the casement. ‘Where’s your
Christian spirit? I am a branch to be plucked from the burning.
Pull me in.’
    ‘ You are
an ill-conditioned and cupshot nuisance – and you can go back the
way you came.’
    Alex looked
down and shut his eyes quickly as the earth rushed up to meet
him.
    ‘ Not
entirely true,’ he said weakly. ‘Not at all, in fact.’
    And just as
Chloë opened her mouth to shout, the Reverend disappeared from view
as Alex dived head first through the window. There was a loud
crash, then a voice said furiously, ‘Get off me, sir. You are sat
on my stomach!’ Upon which Danny and Freddy burst into howls of
laughter.
    A few minutes
later the door opened to reveal Mr Deveril, dishevelled but
otherwise unhurt, and behind him the meagre figure of the Reverend
Henry Morland, clutching a robe over his outraged person. Daniel
and Freddy wandered in, leaving Chloë with little alternative but
to follow, while they manoeuvred the protesting cleric into the
parlour. Freddy lit a branch of candles and everyone blinked in the
light.
    ‘ … . and
moreover I shall complain to a magistrate. Your behaviour is
iniquitous! I have never been so scandalised in my --’
    ‘ Enough,’
interrupted Alex. ‘I don’t want a sermon – I want to be
married.’
    ‘ And I
tell you it’s outside the canonical hour and therefore
impossible!’
    ‘ Let’s
hope,’ said Mr Deveril silkily, ‘that you are mistaken.’
    Chloë sprang
forward. ‘It might be best if you let me explain. Sir, the
situation is a trifle … peculiar. This gentleman,’ she indicated
Alex, ‘has won my hand at the gaming table and --’
    ‘ What? Do I hear you correctly? He won you?’
    ‘ Yes. And
so --’
    ‘ From
whom did he win you?’
    ‘ From my
brother. Mr Iverson will confirm?’
    Freddy nodded
solemnly.
    The Reverend
looked inexpressibly shocked.
    ‘ You poor
girl! This is barbarous – Sodom and Gomorrah! But you are safe now,
my child. None can force you against your will whilst I am here!’
he announced heroically.
    Chloë lost a
little of her assurance.
    ‘ Ah –
yes. Thank you. Only it is not quite so … you see, I … er … I
agreed to it.’
    A number of
conflicting emotions warred with each other in the worthy
gentleman’s face and he appeared beyond speech.
    Alex laughed.
‘Well done, Marigold. At least you’ve stopped him talking.’
    ‘ Oh be
quiet!’ snapped Chloë, incensed.
    ‘ Hussy!’
cried the cleric. ‘Abandoned Jezebel!’
    Alex
advanced with intent. ‘ Will you marry
us ?’
    The Reverend
Morland squeaked as a hand grasped his shoulder, then meeting a
glittering blue stare, he capitulated.
    ‘ Yes. I
w-will,’ he quavered. ‘You deserve each other!’
    ‘ We thank
you. Now go and dress. I’m damned if I’ll be married by an
unfrocked parson.’
    So eager was he
to be rid of his unwelcome guests, that the Reverend excelled
himself. In rather less than ten minutes he was back, wig and stock
askew but otherwise presentable and gripping his bible. Outside,
the church clock was striking twelve.
    ‘ Very
well,’ he said irritably. ‘Let us proceed.’
    Chloë’s face
was the colour of parchment but she drew off her cloak, smoothed
the long rose-gold hair with hands that shook only a little and
stood before the cleric. Alex ploughed an erratic course to her
side and dropped his arm across her shoulders.
    ‘ Dearly
beloved,’ began Reverend Morland in a tone more properly suited to
an exorcism, ‘we are gathered here in the sight of God
…’
    And fifteen
minutes later they were out in the street again with the door
slammed and securely bolted behind them. With a sense of complete
unreality, Chloë looked down at the heavy and over-large signet
ring which adorned her left hand and then at the man who was now
her husband. Mr Deveril appeared to be in rapt contemplation of