A Mad Love. Charlotte M. Brame
The judicial decree has been pronounced; the marriage you have talked of with such bravado is no marriage; the woman you have insulted me by mentioning is not your wife."
She neither trembled nor faltered when he turned to her with a white, set face.
"Pardon me; I must speak plainly; that which you have said is a lie!"
"You forget yourself, Lord Chandos," she said, with cold dignity.
"You force me to use words I do not like, mother," he cried "Why do you irritate me – why say those things?"
"They are perfectly true; here on the table lie the papers relative to the suit; the judicial opinion has been pronounced; our petition is granted, and your marriage, as you choose to call it, is set aside, is pronounced illegal, null, void!"
The fierce, white anger of his face startled her.
"It shall not be!" he cried.
"It must be," she repeated; "you cannot prevent it. You must have been singularly devoid of penetration and knowledge not to know from the first that it must be decided against you; that no minor can marry without the consent of his parents. A wise law it is, too; there would soon be an end of the aristocracy of England if every hot-headed, foolish boy of nineteen could marry without the consent of his parents or guardian."
If his antagonist had been a man, there would have been hot, angry words, perhaps blows; as it was, to a lady, and that lady his mother, he could say nothing. He sunk back with a white face and clinched hands; his mother resolutely stifled all pity, and went on, in her clear voice:
"The law has decided for us against you; you know now the truth. If you have any respect for that unfortunate girl, you will not see her again; she is not your wife, she is not married to you. I need not speak more plainly; you know what relationship she will hold to you if you do not leave her at once."
The handsome face had in these five minutes grown quite haggard and worn.
"My God!" he cried; "I refuse to believe it, I refuse to believe one word of it!"
With her clear, pitiless voice, she went on telling him what would happen.
"You have one resource," she said, "and I tell you quite honestly about it; when you are of age you can remarry this person if you wish."
He sprung from his seat with a cry of wounded pain and love.
"Mother, is it really true?" he asked. "I married that young girl before Heaven, and you tell me that if I persist in returning to her she loses her fair name! If it be so, you have done a very cruel thing."
"It is so," said my lady, coldly. "I grant that it seems cruel, but better that than tarnish the name of a whole race."
"I shall remarry Leone, mother, the day after I am twenty-one," he said.
The countess raised her eyebrows.
"The same man does not often make a simpleton of himself in the same fashion, but if you will do it, you will. For the present, if you have any regard for the person who is not your wife, you will let her go home again. I will return and talk over your journey with you."
So saying, the Countess of Lanswell quitted the room, leaving her son overwhelmed with a sense of defeat.
CHAPTER XVI.
LEONE'S DETERMINATION
Lucia, Countess of Lanswell, stood alone in the superb drawing-room at Cawdor. It was evening, one of the warmest and brightest in September. Nearly three months had passed since the fatal marriage which had grieved and distressed her, and now she fondly hoped all her distress was ended. The decree had gone forth that the marriage was null and void; was, in fact, no marriage, Lord Chandos being under age when it was contracted. She said to herself all was null now. True, her son was in a most furious rage, and he had gone to consult half the lawyers in London, but she did not care for that; he was sure to rage and rave; he was a spoiled child, who never in his life had been contradicted or thwarted. The more angry he was the better; she knew by experience the hotter the fire the more quickly it burns away. Had he been cool, calm, collected and silent she would have dreaded the after consequences.
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