“But do you love him?”
There was that question again, and all she could say was “I really don’t know. I’ve never felt so comfortable with a man before, where I don’t feel I have to guard my every word, nor have I gotten so angry with a man before for that matter, or—it’s all extremes, what he makes me feel. I’ve had some wonderful experiences with him that I’ll never forget. He brings out the child in me, and the girl, and the woman. He certainly taps all of my emotions, not just a few of them.”
“Oh my” was all Mary said, as if Ophelia had given her a definitive yes or no, rather than a complicated jumble of thoughts.
“Why are you two home so early?” Sherman asked, appearing at the top of the stairs. “And standing there chitchatting in the foyer?”
“Oh, good God,” Mary whispered to Ophelia. “It’s only just dawned on me that Sherman missed your wedding. He’s going to be furious!”
That’s one bright note out of a disastrous day, Ophelia thought.
Chapter Forty-two
R APHAEL TURNED OFF THE LAMP beside the reading chair in his bedroom, leaving only the dim orange glow from the dying fire to flicker about the room. The bottle of rum was close at hand. He would have preferred brandy, but his study was dark when he’d gone in there to grab an armful of bottles, and he had encountered only two. One he knocked on the floor and couldn’t find, the other he’d taken up to his room. He’d take a light with him when he went down later to find out what had happened to the rest of the liquor in his well-stocked bar. One, even two bottles, just wasn’t going to be enough tonight.
He’d married Ophelia Reid—good God, she was Ophelia Locke now. He was out of his bloody mind.
He could have gotten out of it, had only needed to make it publicly known that they were at unreconcilable odds. Would anyone who knew her doubt it? Hell no. But at the back of his mind had been the ridiculous notion that marriage to her could be good, so good he’d think he was the luckiest man alive. But it had been a foolish notion. What it could be like wasn’t going to be a reality. What it would be like was going to be his worst nightmare.
He thought about telling his housekeeper to prepare for a lady of the house, then took another drink instead. He’d be damned if he’d bring that shrew into his home. She was not going to know that he still wanted her. She was not going to know that he had to fight to keep his hands off her. If he didn’t see her, he could keep those urges to himself. And where was it written, after all, that he had to live with the wife he’d married? If her parents wouldn’t keep her, he’d find somewhere else to deposit her, but it wouldn’t be with him.
He’d never lacked for coin. The title that had come to him that was usually passed along to the firstborn early came with a large estate, and many entailed properties that earned a steady income. To teach responsibility early was the family tradition. So before he was a man, he was his own man.
The London town house was one of those properties. He hadn’t had to buy it, but he’d spared no expense decorating it to his taste. It was a man’s house, made comfortable for a bachelor. It wasn’t suitable for a woman, especially that woman, who’d no doubt wreck it for spite just as she did everything else for spite. He liked the house. He didn’t want it ruined. He downed another glass of rum.
He was vaguely aware that his thoughts were beginning to turn incoherent. He’d been hoping the alcohol would give him a little peace before he had to face the realities of the morning, but it wasn’t working yet. He downed another glass of rum.
His marriage was going to be on every tongue come morning. News of that sort would travel fast. He had no idea how he was going to deal with congratulations—or condolences, for that matter. He should jot off a note to his father, but he was afraid it would be illegible now. Tomorrow.
He began to feel bad about leaving Ophelia with her parents, though. That sort of spite was foreign to him. But it had been such a perfect payback. Force them to marry for spite, would she? Then he could deny her the one thing she really wanted, to get out from under her father’s thumb. Priceless—but a little too spiteful for him.
He wouldn’t make her stay there, not for long. But he wasn’t going to bring her to his home. Hell no. He’d find her some place where she could practice her spiteful ways to her heart’s content and he wouldn’t have to know about it. They were not going to live under the same roof when he couldn’t trust a single word out of her mouth.
God, he couldn’t believe how adept she was at deception. He’d really believed she’d changed, that her regrets were real, that she’d told the truth. He’d even thought she’d conquered her worst tendencies, but it was all lies. And there was no way he could continually live with that, when he wouldn’t be able to trust a single word she ever said.
“I ran home the moment I heard. Congratulations!”
He glanced up to see his sister grinning as she poked her head around the door. “Don’t do that.”
“What?”
“Congratulate me. You can mourn with me if you like. Just don’t look so bloody cheerful, thank you.”
“You’re foxed.” She walked into the room.
“Good guess! Two points for you!”
“Really foxed. Why? And where is she?” Amanda looked in particular toward his bed.
“You won’t find her in there,” he mumbled. “But if you thought she was in here, why the deuce didn’t you knock before barging in?”
“I never barge in,” she disagreed in a huff.
“You just did.”
“No, I didn’t. I knocked and knocked and knocked first, and when you didn’t answer, I figured you must be sleeping, but on the chance you weren’t, I just had to know so I could share my delight with…you…” She slowed down because of his scowl. “I shouldn’t be delighted?”
“No, you shouldn’t.”
“But I like her.”
“You didn’t before.”
“That was before she and I had such a nice talk.”
He snorted. “Don’t believe a word she says, Mandy. She’s a consummate liar, a practiced deceiver, a superb actress. She’ll have you believing the sun is shining when you know bloody well it isn’t. And how the devil did you find out so soon?”
“Some chap burst into the main room of the party I was attending and simply shouted it into the room. Then he was bombarded with questions and admitted he had been at the Cades’ where you announced you were leaving immediately to get leg-shackled to Ophelia, and that even Lady Cade went along to witness it. Of course everyone then turned their eyes accusingly on me because I hadn’t even dropped a hint that it was to happen soon. Quite embarrassing, you know, but I forgive you because I was so delighted to…very well, not delighted a’tall. There. Happy?”
“Do I look happy?”
She was frowning now as she sat on the arm of his chair. “What happened? Did something prevent you from marrying her?”
“No,” he said in self-disgust. “I could have prevented it if I wasn’t so furious, but I was, and I didn’t.” He knew that sounded odd, started to clarify what he meant, but lost the train of his thoughts and gave up. Instead he said, “A word of warning, m’dear. Don’t ever ever make a monumental decision about your life when you’re in a rage.”
“I thought you liked her. You raved about the ‘new’ her. I even met the ‘new’ her and had to agree with you. She was more than just changed, it was like she was a completely new person.”
“Lies. The woman I liked doesn’t even exist. She was a fraud.”
Amanda raised a brow at him. “You’re sure about that? We’re talking about the woman who found out about the bet, remember? The one who would want your head for it. You just called her a superb actress, didn’t you? Maybe this woman is the fraud.”
Chapter Forty-three
“Y OU DON’T UNDERSTAND, SHERMAN,” MARY said. “She cried herself to sleep. She’s not the least bit happy with this turn of events.”
“And I am?”
They were in the dining room working their way through a breakfast neither of them was paying much attention to. Mary had explained to her husband last night what had occurred, as much as she understood of it anyway, and she’d been accurate in her prediction. He’d been furious and his mood hadn’t improved much this morning. She didn’t usually react to his moods in a like manner, but in this case, she was just as upset, but for different reasons.
“She could have had the grandest wedding of the century,” Sherman continued. “Royalty might even have attended. Do you realize the lost opportunities—”
“For once will you think about your daughter and not your damned ‘opportunities’!”
Mary rarely ever shouted at her husband. Unlike her daughter, it just wasn’t in her nature to lose her temper or have emotional outbursts. On the rare occasions it did happen, Sherman usually took quick note of it, which is what he did right now. He slumped down in his chair. The heat went out of his expression. And he eyed his wife warily.
“Take her shopping,” he mumbled. “That always cheers you women up.”
“That’s callous, Sherman.”
He flushed. “But it works, doesn’t it?”
“For minor upsets, perhaps, but this disaster can hardly be called minor. And this isn’t even the first time she’s cried this week. She wasn’t sick those few days she stayed in her room, you know. She’d heard something that quite undid her.”
“What?”
“I have no idea. She wasn’t willing to discuss it with me, tried to pretend it was nothing. But I’ve never seen her quite so angry, or despondent—well, other than when you engaged her to MacTavish.”
He flushed again. “Let’s please not rehash that again, m’dear. That could have been a grand match if she had just given it a chance.”
“That’s neither here nor there. The point is, she’s currently devastated because she’s married to a man who obviously doesn’t want her.”
He sat up, angry now on Ophelia’s behalf. “I will not for a moment believe that any man could not want that angel.”
Mary raised a brow at him. “Angel in looks, certainly, but you know very well that the unusual childhood you put her through not only made her haughty and abrasive, but had her distrusting everyone she met.”
“Must I be blamed for everything?”
“When you are to blame, yes. I warned you countless times to stop treating her like a bauble you were compelled to show off. You treated her like an adult when she was still a child. You marched an endless stream of bachelors through here to enlist offers for her long before she was ready for them.”
“If you must know, even I got annoyed at the extreme number of those offers.”
“Then how do you think she felt? Your shouting matches with her are legendary, you know. The entire block snickers about them.”
Once again, he flushed. “She wasn’t quite as volatile when she returned from that visit with Locke, did you notice that? I almost didn’t recognize her.”
She rolled her eyes at him. “Because you never saw her mellow side for the simple reason that her reaction to you has always been explosive. But, yes, I did notice a remarkable difference in her when she returned home. She was softer. It was as if the brambles had been removed.”
“Think the Lockes overwhelmed and humbled her with their superiority?” he wondered aloud.
She tsked at him. “I don’t think anything of the sort. And we’ve never met them, other than the viscount and his sister. Do not presume things about that family that could be far from the mark.”
He shrugged. “Then what could have changed her? Surely she mentioned something to you?”
“I’m her mother, Sherman, not her best friend. Though I wish it were otherwise, she rarely confides in me.”
But Mary, having said her piece, was still confronted with the same sorry situation, which was worth crying over. In fact, she became quite choked up when she added, “She hasn’t had a happy life, Sherman. Do you realize that? She’s the most beautiful daughter anyone could ask for, but she’s also the most unhappy.”
“What can I do?”
“Besides make her angry? I’m sorry, that was uncalled for. But you must admit, that does seem to be the only way she reacts to you. And I’m not sure anything can be done to help this situation. The odd thing is, I think she loves him. She didn’t say so exactly, but you see a glow in her eyes when she talks about him. Which doesn’t explain why she’s here with us and he’s gone his merry way. I think she was right, he really didn’t want to get married. He only did so because of those silly rumors, which, I might add, you helped to propagate by telling all your cronies that she was visiting the Lockes and you expected her to come home with an engagement.”
His face flushed to a deeper shade or red. “I’ll pay Locke a visit to see which way the wind blows in his court.”
“Don’t do that,” she admonished quickly. “You could make things even worse.” But then she amended with a little heat, “However, if he hasn’t come by to collect her in the next few days, I’ll go with you to give him a piece of my mind. I will not have my daughter made a laughingstock because it will appear that he didn’t find her acceptable.”
Chapter Forty-four
“Y OU AREN’T UP YET? SADIE said you were.”
Ophelia sat up abruptly in bed. She had been awake, knew that it was close to noon. She’d just been unwilling to rise to face what she was sure was going to be a difficult day. And she’d been right. By the looks of Jane and Edith, barely containing their excitement as they marched into her room, they knew she was now Lady Locke.
“My maid thinks I should be up, so telling you I am is her ornery way of making sure I am,” Ophelia explained, and even pretended a yawn for their benefit.
“A late night, eh?” Jane snickered.
Jane and Edith went to their usual seats at the little breakfast-tray table. It appeared Sadie had left a tray there on her last attempt to get Ophelia out of bed.
That remark was rather bold for Jane, though, an unrestrained reference to a wedding night. But Ophelia didn’t need to respond to it.
Edith couldn’t contain her excitement any longer and burst out, “You are so lucky!”
And Jane added, “We only just found out you were engaged to him. Can you believe it? No one bothered to mention it to us because they were sure we already knew all about it. And now this!”
“But we certainly didn’t expect to find you here,” Edith said. “We went to Locke’s house this morning to see you. His butler didn’t know what we were talking about. When we told him you’d married Lord Locke, he nearly called us liars. Said he hadn’t heard about it yet, so it couldn’t be true. You’ll have to fire that man. I don’t care if he was just doing his job, he was quite rude about it.”
“So why are you here instead of there?” Jane asked next, quite pointedly.
Ophelia sighed inwardly and prevaricated, “His house isn’t ready for me yet.” But she should have known her friends wouldn’t leave it at that.
“Really?” Edith said with a speculating frown. “But his sister is staying with him.”
“Amanda doesn’t mind. Rafe thinks I will and wants it to be just right for me. First impressions and all that. Which is fine with me. We had our wedding night.”
The blush was immediate and not because of the subject, though both girls would assume that was the case. She blushed because it wasn’t true. Why was she resorting to lies again? Because she couldn’t tolerate pity and she knew that was what she’d get from these two if they knew the truth?
To change the subject somewhat, she said, “One of you must have been up and about early this morning, to have heard the news so soon.”
“You must be joking,” Edith replied with a laugh. “We heard about it last night.”
“All but a few of the Cade guests must have rushed out to every party they could find,” Jane added. “You know how the ton is, everyone wanting to be the first with the
latest on dit. We actually heard about it twice last night. First that you were on your way to get married.”
“And then again,” Edith finished, “less than an hour later, that you were married. A few of the Cade guests stayed behind till Lady Cade returned with the confirmation that, yes, it really did happen, she’d witnessed it herself. Then they too rushed around to spread the word.”
“And you’re not going to believe this,” Jane went on with even more excitement. “But I got my first proposal last night too, right after the news about your wedding spread. It was from Lord Even. Not that I’m the least bit interested in him, but it’s a start!”
“Indeed, two of your former beaux called on me this morning,” Edith said. “I was incredulous as you can imagine, but quite delighted. They’re taking it rather well, their disappointment, but most of them have realized that now that you’re definitely out of the running for them, they still do need to get married.”
“So Edith and I just might find husbands this Season as well, even though there isn’t much time left to decide. But the opportunities are endless now.”
Listening to them, seeing how excited they both were about her “leftovers,” she had to wonder why they didn’t hate her. She’d held them back through no fault of her own other than her infamous beauty. They hadn’t even tried to decide ahead of time whom they might want to marry. They’d both decided instead that they simply wouldn’t stand a chance until she got married first. It was sad. It shouldn’t have been that way. And she’d done nothing to make sure it wasn’t that way because she hadn’t really been a friend to either of them.
“I can make a few recommendations if you’d like,” Ophelia said almost shyly. “Though it might not have seemed like it, I was paying attention to most of those gentlemen, and some of them were nicer than others, some were more romantic, some I’m sure would make exemplary fathers. And I know you know why I’d look for that in a man.” Both girls chuckled. “But having been engaged, I wasn’t really interested in any of them myself, so I wasn’t shy about putting them on the spot with pertinent questions to find out more about them.”
The Devil Who Tamed Her Page 22