Ann Cree – The Marriage Truce (страница 7)

At least this round appeared to be diffused. Lord Henslowe looked taken aback. ‘Er, I see.’

Dev smiled coolly. ‘Yes. If you will excuse me, then, I must take my aunt to her bedchamber. She is rather fatigued after the morning’s events.’

‘Er, of course,’ Henslowe said. He backed into his study.

‘Fatigued? I most certainly am not!’ Lady Beatrice snapped. ‘And this nonsense about expressing your—’

‘But you are.’ He mounted the steps and took her arm before she could say anything else. He finally managed to get her safely to her bedchamber and then retreated to his own.

The quiet was welcome. He walked to the window and looked out at the rolling park spread before him. In the distance he could make out the grey roof of Monteville House.

What the devil had happened? He rubbed the back of his neck in an attempt to ease the knot he could feel forming. The last place on earth he’d ever expected to set foot in was Monteville House.

But it was no more bizarre than contemplating marriage to Sarah Chandler.

He had first seen her at the ball celebrating his betrothal to Mary. Mary had spoken of her dearest friend many times before, but he’d hardly been prepared for a pair of expressive brown eyes in a heart-shaped face and a smile that lit her face from within. He’d taken her hand, and a jolt of recognition shot through him, almost as if she was the woman he had been waiting for. The sensation had scared him and set his carefully ordered world reeling.

Up until that moment, he had accepted his betrothal to Lady Mary Coleridge as a matter of course. Beautiful, cool and reserved, Mary had seemed to expect no more from marriage than he did. Nor did she appear affected by his less than pristine past. Or the fact that he’d scandalised most of society by a rash affair with one of the most dashing and notorious widows in London.

He had avoided Sarah Chandler as much as possible at the ball and the picnic the following day. He had been relieved when she’d left. Her own hesitant friendliness towards him had quickly turned to puzzlement at his brusque manner, and finally to cool politeness. The next time he expected to see her was after he was safely wed to Mary.

The last thing he had anticipated was that his cool, proper wife would run away a fortnight after their wedding. And that he would find her three weeks later with another man, a man who happened to be Sarah’s brother.

Undoubtedly, Sarah held him responsible for Mary’s death as did a good half of society. Rumours had been rampant that he’d done away with Mary until she was found. And then the gossip had turned to speculations on what he must have done to his wife to cause her to flee his house so soon after her marriage.

They were only wrong in the details. For he had, without doubt, driven Mary to her death.

And now he was about to again undertake marriage with a woman who did not want him. Except this time, he planned to stay as far away from his wife as possible.

‘Dev?’

He swung around to find his sister had quietly entered the room. ‘You are not out riding with the others?’ he asked.

‘No.’ She came towards him. ‘How could I until I knew what had happened? Besides, I was worried about you.’

He gave her a slanted half-smile. ‘There is no need.’ He moved away from the window and rubbed the back of his neck. ‘All is well.’

‘So, you are to marry Miss Chandler?’

‘Yes, and I fear I will beat you to the altar,’ he said lightly. ‘I hope you do not mind.’

‘Mind?’ To his surprise, her face lit up and she dashed forward, and threw her arms around his neck. He staggered back a little at the impact. She pulled away. ‘Never! You don’t know how much I feared leaving you alone. Now, you won’t be.’

‘You approve?’ he asked stupidly.

‘Oh, yes! I have always like Miss Chandler, she has such a nice face, but I did not wish to say anything because you always look so cross when you see her. And then I had wondered if perhaps you had a tendre for her, but did not wish anyone to know because of her brother! And then to find it is true after all! And even more astonishing, that she is in love with you!’

‘Certainly it is,’ he said faintly.

‘Adam says that she has a very kind heart, so I know you will be safe with her.’

‘Safe?’ He was losing track of the conversation. ‘Wouldn’t it be more proper to worry more about Miss Chandler’s person in my safekeeping?’

Jessica smiled. ‘Oh, no. Because I know you will take care of her, just as you have cared for me. No, it is you I fear for. I never want you to hurt so much again. And I do not think Miss Chandler will hurt you at all.’

Amelia touched Sarah’s arm. ‘Come, we cannot stay in your bedchamber forever.’ She ran a critical eye over Sarah’s person. She had helped Sarah dress, pulling out one gown after another before deciding on the pomona green silk. It had a round, low-cut bodice, the hem trimmed with rows of matching ribbon. ‘You look very lovely. Lord Huntington will be enchanted.’

‘I really don’t want him to be enchanted.’ Sarah snatched up her gloves from the dressing table. What she really wanted was for him to go away and leave her in peace.

Amelia arched a brow. ‘My dear, you need to look a bit more enthusiastic if you’re to convince everyone you’ve conceived a mad passion for his lordship.’

Sarah scowled. ‘That was his idea, not mine.’ As the dinner approached she had found herself in more and more of a horrid mood. The last thing she felt like doing was pretending to be in love with Lord Huntington. She could feel the beginning of a headache and her stomach was churning. At this point she would be quite fortunate if she made it through dinner without being sick.

‘Yes, you have made that very clear. But you will need to do better than that. Such a sour look will hardly persuade anyone you’re in ecstasy over finding your hidden love reciprocated.’

‘I would prefer that it had remained hidden,’ Sarah snapped. She heaved a sigh. ‘I am sorry, Amelia. I have a slight headache and I wish I was anywhere but here.’

‘I quite understand.’ Amelia picked up a fan from Sarah’s dressing table and pressed it into her hand. ‘But we do need to put in an appearance or everyone will think you decided to escape through the window.’

‘I still might,’ Sarah said. She trailed Amelia down the staircase, wishing it truly were possible to run away. She had finally decided to lie down before dressing for dinner. It had not helped; instead of resting, her mind had replayed the events over and over. She had tried to tell herself that she should be noble and accept marriage to Lord Huntington to save his reputation as well as to ensure his sister’s happiness. But instead she felt resentful and trapped. And, underneath, more than a little despairing.

And the headache gnawing at the back of her neck hardly helped.

He was the first person she noticed when she entered the drawing room. He stood near the window engaged in conversation with Adam, Lady Jessica, and her grandfather. He looked elegantly masculine. His tight pantaloons fitted over well-muscled legs and he wore a bottle green coat moulded to broad shoulders which obviously had no need of artificial aids.

He looked over when she entered with Amelia. His cool eyes met hers and she felt her heart slam alarmingly against her ribs. Worse, the room fell silent and everyone else turned to look at her as well. She wondered how she was ever to make it through the evening.

Lady Omberley bustled over, her expression relieved. ‘My dear, we had quite wondered where you’d gone to. That is, we had hoped nothing was amiss.’

‘Sarah couldn’t find her fan,’ Amelia said brightly.

‘Oh? If that was all… Come—’ Lady Omberley took Sarah’s arm in a firm grip ‘—we must greet Lord Huntington. But first, here is Lady Beatrice and I believe you have met Lord Pennington.’

‘Yes, how do you do?’ Sarah managed to smile although she feared it was probably strained.

‘Well enough,’ Lady Beatrice snapped. She wore a remarkable gown of purple satin trimmed with lace and silk flowers, a matching turban on her head. The effect with her broad, double-chinned face was quite intimidating.

Lady Omberley gave her a wary look, then her face brightened. ‘I see the Misses Waverly have arrived. If you will excuse me, I must greet them.’ She hurried off, leaving Sarah to cast about in her mind for something to say.

Lord Pennington smiled. He was tall and lean with light brown hair and a pair of humorous grey eyes. ‘Congratulations, Miss Chandler. It is quite amazing. Only last night I suggested to Dev that he might consider repairing relations between himself and your family. However, I will confess I hardly expected he would take it to such lengths.’

‘Nor did I,’ Lady Beatrice said, giving Sarah a suspicious look as if she still suspected Sarah had managed to bring Huntington to heel by less-than-honest methods.

‘Take what to such lengths?’ Huntington materialised at Sarah’s side.

‘Your method of effecting a reconciliation between the two families,’ Lord Pennington said.

‘So far I can’t see it has had much effect,’ Huntington said drily. His fingers closed lightly around Sarah’s arm. ‘If you will pardon me, I would like to speak with Sarah alone.’