by Unknown
* * *
The announcement of the forthcoming marriage between the Lady Danielle de St. Varennes and Justin Earl of Linton made its appearance in the Gazette at the end of June, just in time to provide the last
on dit of the Season before the ton deserted London's heat and dust and the disease-laden air of summer to continue their round of pleasures either at Bath or on their country estates.
The news was received with curiosity, much speculation, and not a little chagrin by those mamas who had continued to hold out hopes that Linton would forsake his bachelordom for the charms of one of their daughters. Nothing was known of his affianced bride except that she was, of course, a Rockford, and even though her father's family were viewed with a degree of caution by high sticklers her lineage was unimpeachable and not even the most malicious tongue could say that the earl was to make a bad match in this regard. Her age, however, was another matter altogether. Linton had never evinced the slightest interest in girls in their first Season and the little de St. Varennes was surely barely out of the schoolroom? But Society's curiosity was not to be satisfied throughout the summer as Lord Linton remained in Cornwall engaged in the very pleasant task of awakening the sleeping woman in his erstwhile brat.
They received little news of the events in France during this time, and that little was grim. On June 17,
the Commons at the States General declared themselves the Assemblee Nationale—the only representative body of the nation—and thus denied the claims of the privileged orders, the nobility and
the clergy, to represent France independently. At the same time, they challenged the king, still grieving over the death of the seven-year-old Dauphin, by agreeing to pay their taxes only as long as this National Assembly remained in session. This unheard-of defiance led an angry and ill-advised Louis XVI to close the Parliament House to the deputies of the Third Estate and declare a Royal Session. When on June 20 the deputies, barred by soldiers from entering the hall, convened as a separate body on the tennis court at Versailles all hope that the States General would indeed rejuvenate the realm faded and the course of bloody civil destruction that France was to pursue for the next five years became inevitable.
But for Danielle, this was an idyllic summer. Linton wisely made no attempt to change the personality
that had developed during her unconventional upbringing, and indeed had no wish to do so. He was firm in his insistence that she adhere to a proper conduct when in company. Any lapses in either behavior or language were received with a stony silence and a withdrawal of his company that Danielle found infinitely more unpleasant than his previous methods of showing disapproval. As a result these lapses occurred less and less frequently. Since Justin was totally accepting of her need to alternate the rigors
of self-control with the freedom to roam the countryside astride the dappled mare, they soon reached a happy compromise. They spent days hunting in the woods, fishing the streams, and sailing the little bay. Danielle was initially somewhat nervous about the latter activity, her experiences on the Black Gull having given her a certain dislike for the sea, but her enjoyment of physical activity of all kinds soon overcame her reluctance and she rapidly became competent at handling the small sailboat. Linton enjoyed teaching her—she was so proficient at most things that it made a pleasant change to instruct her in something other than the proper way to go on in Society.
His greatest surprise however, occurred one afternoon when, on returning from a ride with March, he
was informed that Lady Danielle would like him to join her in the Long Gallery. He arrived to find her in shirt, britches, and stockinged feet examining the family portraits and gazing through the many long windows that made up the wall of the gallery facing the sea.
She turned eagerly at the sound of his entrance. "Ah, milord, there you are. I have been waiting for you this age. We shall fence together, n'est-ce pas?"
"Shall we indeed?" He raised a quizzical eyebrow, removing his jacket and placing it carefully over the back-of the chaise longue under a window before examining the pair of foils resting on the seat. Their
tips were carefully buttoned.
"You are full of surprises, brat," he observed, calmly pulling off his top boots before rolling up the ruffled sleeves of his shirt.
Danielle laughed delightedly as she picked up one of the foils, making a quick pass in the air that told him very clearly that this was no tyro. "The best of three hits, milord. We are agreed?"
He said nothing, merely picked up the other foil and faced her, its tip resting on the ground at his feet.
Her own flashed in salute and the next minute he found himself in combat with one of the best fencers he had ever been privileged to face. Herexpression was now intense, all laughter gone, and the slight body moved on the polished floor with all the agility of a dancer. His swift thrust in prime was parried instantly and countered with a flanconnade to his left hand. He had not been expecting such a sophisticated maneuver and the tip of her blade grazed his side.
"One to me, milord," she said tranquilly, stepping back.
"On guard!" His foil flashed in a thrust in tierce but was instantly parried; for a moment their blades locked and she had bounced back, feinting to the right before parrying his swift lunge and sliding under
his suddenly opened guard.
Linton dropped his point and held out a hand. "We will have a return match tomorrow, infant. And you will not, then, take me by surprise."
"Are you being ungenerous in defeat, sir?" she asked, taking the proffered hand.
"Not at all. But I did not know what to expect. Where did you learn the art?"
"Marc, mon oncle," she replied briefly.
"That explains your skill." Marc de St. Varennes was a noted duelist who, if rumor were to be believed, fought only to the death, and since he had met his own at the hands of a peasant mob and not on the duelling ground his supremacy was without question.
It was a soft, rose-pink evening in early September when their summer idyll came to a close. Linton was to leave for London at dawn the following morning, Danielle and her grandparents to follow several days later.
"I wish I could travel with you, milord," she murmured wistfully as they walked toward the cliff top. "It will take forever, boxed up in that stuffy old coach."
"You may ride some of the way—I am sure that March will have no objection," he replied absently. "A week will see you in Bedford Place."
"I shall ride all the way," she stated firmly. "Can you imagine how tedious it would be to listen to Grandmama and Hannah rabbiting on for hours at a time about the latest fashions and whether Monsieur Artur is still the best hairdresser in town?"
"'Rabbiting,' brat, is not a word you will use, please."
"Oh, is it very vulgar?" Her eyes twinkled.
"Very," he said firmly.
"Do you think I shall set the town by the ears, sir?" She frowned toward the horizon and the red ball of the setting sun slipping into the dark sea.
"Only in the nicest possible way, Danny." He turned her toward him, one hand taking her chin. "I predict that you will take the town by storm, my love. You will behave impeccably at all times—well, most times," he amended with a soft laugh. "And not gallop in Hyde Park or take your carriage down St. James's or tell people that they are idiotish—even when they are. And you will be the most beautiful woman in London and I the most envied husband." His lips came down slowly and the soft petal of her mouth opened in eager, willing invitation. She was no longer afraid of her reactions and to his secret delight had begun to make demands of her own. As his hands felt for the satiny skin of her breasts she moaned softly, moving against him, slipping her arms around his neck, holding his head captive against her face as her own tongue pushed between his lips on its own voyage of exploration.
Justin tipped her backward over one supporting arm as his hand pushed down the neck of hergown, lifting the soft breasts out of their concealment. Danielle gasped slightly as the cool ev
ening air stroked the bared flesh and long fingers caught the erect nipples, rolling them between manicured tips. A deep tension was growing in the pit of her belly and she became aware of a strange dampness in the secret part of her body. His mouth found one breast, licking, nuzzling, nibbling, drawing from her a deep involuntary groan, half protest, half wanting. Something was sliding up the silken length of her leg, pushing aside the skirts and petticoats, reaching the ruffled cuff of her pantalettes.
"No!" She tried to push away his hand as it continued its journey over her cambric-clothed thighs, sliding suddenly between them to discover the moist center of her desire. Embarrassment engulfed her in great hot agonized waves.
Justin raised his head from her breast, but left his hand where it was, scorching through the thin protection of her drawers. "You have such passion in you, my sweet," he murmured huskily. "You must not deny it." His eyes, heavy and languorous, burned their message of reassurance and deep sensuality into her own anxious ones. He frowned suddenly, wondering if he had believed her too readily when she had said she knew about the physical side of marriage. Leaning against the low wall he drew her between his knees, holding her lightly by the waist. "You understand what happens between a man and a woman, do you not?"
"Oh yes," she announced cheerfully and then the pert little nose wrinkled slightly. "Only, I am not quite certain of exactly ... well.. . exactly where things are. I understand the principle, you see, but not the practice," she finished in a rush.
"Well, I am glad that you do not. His eyes glinted. "The marriage bed, my love, is the only fit place for such understanding."
"But that is not true of everyone," she began seriously. "You have had many mistresses, have you not? They have not learned their practice in a marriage bed."
"Quite true, but that is not your destiny, my child. You will be rid of your virginity this day, three weeks, and after that will be both wife and mistress."
Danielle sucked in her bottom lip as that deep frown wrinkled her brow. "I suppose, milord, that I must be satisfied with that for now."
"You must indeed," he declared firmly and then his lips curved slightly. "One thing I have been meaning to mention for quite some time. I have a name, Danielle. Do you think you could use it?"
"I should call you Justin, or Linton?"
"Either will do, but I think I prefer the former." He smiled.
"We will strike a bargain then." Her dimples peeped mischievously. "If you will refrain from calling me 'brat,' or 'infant,' or 'wretch,' or 'vagabond,' or 'my child,' in that toplofty way, I will call you Justin."
"We have a bargain—but you must behave like Danielle to earn the name."
"La, sir! And how else should the future Countess of Linton behave?" She swept him a graceful curtsy totally at odds with the impish gleam in the big brown eyes.
Shaking his head in mock reproof he tucked her hand under his arm and began to walk back across the wide sweep of lawn toward the house.
Chapter 8
Linton was at his breakfast in Grosvenor Square about ten days later when his cousin was announced. Lord Julian, following hard on the heels of the footman, was resplendent in a blue satin coat opened over an embroidered waistcoat, pale yellow britches, and silken stockings embellished with large silver clocks.
"Linton, you're a dog! Indeed you are, 'pon my soul," he declared as greeting.
"Now what have I done to deserve this, Julian?" the earl asked mildly, putting up his glass to survey his cousin with a degree of polite interest.
"Why this marriage of yours, of course, to the de St. Varennes. Who is the chit, m'boy? Where did she come from? It is the outside of enough, y'know, to announce your engagement out of the blue like that, and then disappear incommunicado for the rest of the summer!"
"I am very sorry to have inconvenienced you, cousin," His Lordship responded softly. "Will you join me?" He gestured to the laden breakfast table.
The soft tones had the same effect on Lord Julian as they had on Danielle and he instantly recollected himself. It was hardly polite to storm into a man's breakfast parlor before noon, demanding information that could quite reasonably be considered very personal.
"I'll take a tankard of ale with you, coz," he said, seating himself at the table. "No, really, Justin, it is typical in you to hand the town the best on dit of the year and then leave everyone talking."
"If it is so typical, I cannot imagine why you should sound so surprised," His Lordship observed thoughtfully, sliding into his beef.
"But when we last met you had no thoughts of marriage, I'll lay odds."
"You would lose, Julian," my lord responded calmly.
That effectively silenced his interlocuter who began to have an uneasy suspicion that hiscousin was going to reveal nothing of this extraordinary circumstance. He tried a different approach.
"You would not believe what the gossips have been makin' of it, Linton." He laughed. "I dare swear Bath this summer was steamier and more sulfurous than ever! No one has even seen the girl and it's rumored she has everything from a wall eye to a crooked back and is to be kept in seclusion at Danesbury whilst she provides you with heirs."
"Oh, I do not think that plan would suit Danielle," His Lordship said consideringly. "She was not educated to accept the role of brood mare, you see."
"What!" Lord Julian's mouth dropped open and remained that way for some considerable time whilst his cousin tranquilly continued with his breakfast.
"Do shut your mouth, dear fellow. It is most distracting," he requested mildly when it seemed that the other was likely to remain in this condition indefinitely.
"Beg pardon, but, well. . . Gad, Justin! What manner of girl is she?"
"You will find out in good time, Julian. She is to be presented at Court this evening and the gossips will,
I am confident, have plenty to feed upon. Now, tell me, if you please . . ."
But Lord Julian was not to discover what his cousin wished to know. The sound of voices in the passage reached them and Linton, a frown in his eyes, laid down his fork as the door opened and Bedford, face and voice expressionless, announced: "Lady Danielle de St. Varennes, my lord."
Danielle, in a swish and flurry of velvet skirts, entered the room and began speaking almost before the butler had completed his dignified announcement.
"Milord, you have to do something about this, immediatemend. If you do not speak to Grandmere straight away we shall all be in the basket!"
Both men had risen at her entrance, Lord Julian much more hastily than Linton, who did not immediately respond to this impetuous speech, merely lifted his glass and examined the small figure of his affianced bride in steady silence. She was looking utterly enchanting in a severely cut dark green velvet riding habit, heavily adorned with silver lace and little ragged buttons down the front. The skirt was caught up over one gloved arm and a tricorn hat of the same material perched rakishly on top of her head, a long, green feather curling to her shoulder.
Her voice faltered and her eyes dropped as the silence lengthened and he continued to look at her.
"I suppose, milord, that you are going to tell me that I should not be here?"
"I make it a habit never to tell people things that I feel sure they already know," he responded levelly.
Lord Julian felt a twinge of fraternal sympathy for this entrancing creature. He knew from experience exactly how she must be feeling and gave a slight cough, hoping to divert his cousin.
"Ah, Julian, it seems you are to have your wish sooner than anticipated," Linton said smoothly. "Danielle, may I present Lord Julian Carhon?"
She curtsied gracefully and as Julian received the small hand in his, raising it to his lips as she swam upward, his gaze fell upon an enchanting heart-shaped face, enormous liquid brown eyes, and a pair of full lips opened in a warm smile over even, pearly white teeth. He was lost, instantly and forever, and no longer in any doubt as to why his cousin was about to forsake his long bachelor career.
"My l
ady, I am honoured. You are utterly ravissante," he murmured reverently. "Linton is indeed a fortunate man."
Her response devastated him. A light musical laugh, another curtsy as she said, "Indeed, sir, how kind in you to say such a thing to restore my dignity after such a set down! I am delighted to make your acquaintance for we are, after all, to be in some way cousins, are we not?"
"And friends, I trust. I just wish I had seen you before Linton." He smiled and was rewarded by the appearance of a pair of deep, utterly mischievous dimples.
"Sir, I am sure that that is most improper of you, but Milord warned me that you are a rake."
"Oh brat!" Linton sighed as Lord Julian looked utterly taken aback by this candor.
"Indeed, ma'am, I must protest." He laughed, making a quick recover. "My reputation is much exaggerated."
"Oh, how very disappointing, sir," she murmured, lowering her lashes.
"Danielle, do not, I beg of you, further compound your indiscretion," Justin broke in swiftly, torn between amusement and annoyance. "Who accompanied you here?"