by Mary Balogh
If Jack intended to monopolize Anne's attention, he was certainly to be thwarted during the walk down the long, sloping lawns and along the bank of the stream until it widened into a marshy lake that was spanned by an elegant triple-arched stone bridge.
Freddie immediately approached her and held out his arm. "Hold on to me, Anne," he said. 'Might be some stones in the way. Wouldn't see them in the darkness. Don't be afraid of falling. I never stumble. Don't have too many brains, y' know-not like Alex- but always could see in th' dark. Cats' eyes, Mamma used to say. I don't make much conversation, mind. Not very intelligent, y' see. Nothing very important to say. But I like listening. You talk to me, and I'll try to learn. Trouble is, don't have a good memory. You'll be safe with me, though."
Jack, finding it impossible to step in between his large cousin and Anne and equally impossible to interrupt Freddie's humble monologue, helped Celia adjust her shawl and took her arm. Stanley took Constance's arm through his and patted her hand in fatherly fashion.
"What did y' think of Ruby?" Freddie asked. "Very pleasant sort of girl, I think. She don't mind that I'm stupid. She likes me."
"Oh, Freddie," Anne said, giving his arm a little squeeze, "you aren't stupid. Maybe you cannot learn or remember things as well as your cousin, but that does not make you worthless, you know. You are sweet and kind, and I believe that one might depend upon you. I am proud that you are my cousin by marriage. And you have learned the part of Diggory in the play very well."
Freddie beamed. "Damme, but you're right," he said eagerly. "Didn't make one mistake this afternoon. Jack had to be prompted three times, and Martin didn't know one scene all through."
"You see?" Anne said. "In some things you can do better than the rest of your family, Freddie."
Freddie, his self-esteem bolstered for the second time that day, picked his way along the bank of the stream with exaggerated care so that his charge would not stub her slippered toe against an unexpected stone.
"Oh, it is lovely!" Anne exclaimed as they came upon the bridge around a bend in the stream. "I have not seen it this close before."
"You have to stand exactly above the second arch to know why Grandmamma wanted the bridge built just there," Jack said, expertly maneuvering so that the six of them came up together and changed partners without anyone's seeming to realize that it had happened. Anne found herself being led onto the bridge by him. The others did not follow but continued to stroll along the footpath that would eventually circle around and take them back to the house again.
"There, you see?" Jack said triumphantly, and Anne could see in the moonlight the marsh, which looked more like a lake from this vantage point, the elm trees, and beyond them the upper lawn and the house spread out in all its majesty.
"Oh, it is perfect," she said. "How did Grandmamma know that that magnificent view of the house could be got from just this spot?" She turned inquiringly to Jack, who bent and kissed her squarely on the lips.
"I think she had it made because she thought this was a romantic spot," he said quietly. "She and Grandpapa have always been almost indecently in love, you know."
Anne moved back a step and glared. "Jack, you must stop that," she said. "I have not given you permission to take such liberties."
He leaned one elbow on the stone parapet of the bridge and smiled at her. "Can you blame me for trying, Anne?" he asked. "You are a lovely and an intriguing woman. You are such a delightful mixture of shyness and reserve on the one hand, and firmness and fire on the other. Would not a mild flirtation brighten up your time here as it would mine?"
“No," she said, "it most certainly would not."
"A pity," he said. "It's old Alex, I suppose. I never could quite see what he had that I do not, but he always had a great deal more success with the ladies than I ever had. You love him, I suppose?"
"He is my husband," she said.
He looked at her long and levelly before straightening up and offering her his arm again. "We had better catch up to the others," he said. "I would not mind the glares of Grandmamma and the glowers of Alex if I really had achieved some success with you, but it seems such a waste to be in everybody's bad books when I have merely tasted your lips and been soundly set down for doing so."
They arrived at the house arm in arm but in company with the other four. Merrick was still playing cards when they all entered the drawing room and crossed to the tea tray at which the duchess presided.
Chapter 10
Freddie had been taken up one afternoon by Miss Fitzgerald in her gig. She was out taking the air and needed a companion who was more inclined to listen than to talk, she said. Jack had stolen away the same afternoon and later made a comment about Rose Fitzgerald, that could have been made only by one who had seen her the same day. Anne had been borne off to the schoolroom one morning to join in an exciting game of blindman's buff with the children. And they had all played endless games of cards and billiards, and played or listened to the pianoforte, and told and retold all of the previous week's on-dits from London. But on the whole, life at Portland House kept to its relentless course. Even Claude was beginning to be hopeful that they would not all make utter cakes of themselves on the night the play was to be performed.
But Merrick was thoroughly tired of the whole business of his grandparents' anniversary. Really, Grandmamma had behaved shockingly, bringing them all there under quite false pretenses. He had known that until the day before the ball, anyway, the only house guests were to be the family, and there was nothing remarkably exciting about the prospect of spending two whole weeks with one's relations. But, really, she might have been expected to exert herself to see that there was some entertainment for them. There were enough families within traveling range that visits, dinners, informal parties, might have been arranged. And he had assumed that he would be free to come and go as he pleased during the daytime.
Crafty old Grandmamma had got them there merely so that she could organize theatrics and dazzle all her acquaintances with the talents of her family. Did she not realize that they were all grown up now and that playacting no longer held the magic for them that it had done when they were all children? She should have got those children of Stanley's to put on some performance. All her guests on the night of the ball would have been suitably impressed.
Anne seemed strangely attached to the children. There had been that afternoon when he had found her almost in the arms of Jack and had found out only when he was thoroughly enraged that she had been up in the tree rescuing a ball, of all things. And several times since, he had seen her in the garden in conversation with one or other of the little ones, usually that strange, grave elder girl. When Claude had demanded to know her whereabouts the previous morning because she was needed for a scene that he wanted to go over, Celia had said that she was upstairs playing with the children. Merrick had not pictured his wife as a woman who might be fond of children.
He was still angry with her. He had not talked to her except when necessary or as part of the dialogue of the play since three evenings before when she had gone out walking during the evening with Jack. It had been a deliberate taunt on her part, he felt sure. She had agreed to go only because she realized he was listening. She seemed intent on making him jealous or angry; he was not quite sure what her motive was. Did she really think she had the power to make him jealous? She was his wife, that was all, to be used for his own convenience for the few days that remained before he could send her back to the country again and return to the more congenial company of Eleanor. But he was going to make his displeasure known to her as soon as a convenient moment presented itself.
The moment came during an afternoon four days before the ball when the actors had banded together and announced that if they were to have any of their humanity remaining so that they might be gracious to the guests when they arrived, they must have some time to themselves. The Fitzgerald offspring were invited to a picnic and everyone went, except for the duke and duchess and the older generation. Even
the children were allowed the treat of joining their elders. The site chosen was a large shaded lake into which the waters of the stream and the marsh finally emptied themselves. A small wooden shed, now sadly in need of a coat of paint, still held some boats, which had been much in use when the duke and duchess had been younger and when the present picnickers were children, either for circling the lake or for sailing through the navigable waterways of the marsh and under the arches of the bridge.
"Papa, Papa," Davie yelled when he discovered the contents of the shed, "take us out in the boat. Oh, famous. Can we fish?"
"You know Kitty is frightfully nervous of water," Meggie said. "It would not be fair to her if we dragged off Papa so early, Davie."
"Pooh," said her brother. "She is just a stupid girl. She can stay with Mamma and Cousin Anne. Come on, Papa."
But, as it turned out, Kitty gathered together her courage when she knew that her mamma was willing to ride in a boat and hold her close. Soon the family was being rowed from shore by Stanley, Davie loudly excited, Meggie sitting primly on her seat, instructing her brother to sit still before he overturned them all into the water.
Jack, Freddie, Miss Fitzgerald, and Rose soon followed in a second boat. Claude called after them, warning them not to go too far as it seemed likely to rain before the afternoon was out.
"I will have no use for a company of actors with hacking coughs or pneumonia on the night of the performance," he yelled.
Jack waved gaily back and put an arm around Rose's shoulder as the boat tipped alarmingly. Since the water was perfectly calm at that moment, it was not at all clear what had caused the near accident, but Jack was obviously not chancing a recurrence that might dump his companion overboard. He kept his arm where it was.
Everyone else sat down on the grass or pulled the picnic baskets from one of the gigs they had brought with them. More than one of them glanced uneasily at the sky, wondering if they would have a chance to eat before the rain came. It seemed so unfair, Hortense said, that the weather was breaking now, just when they had wangled a free afternoon for themselves. There had not been a drop of rain since they arrived more than a week before, and for most of that time they had been cooped up indoors trying to act.
"Shall we walk, Anne?" She looked up, startled, into her husband's face from her kneeling position on the ground, where she was straightening out one of the blankets they had brought with them to sit on.
"Yes, of course," she said, getting rather hesitantly to her feet and smoothing out the skirt of her pink wool dress. She picked up her shawl from the ground, where she had flung it while busy with the blankets.
She took Merrick's arm and he led her along the grassy margin of the lake, away from the marshy side. The towering old trees that grew almost to the water's edge were reflected sharply in the glassy surface of the water. There was not a breath of wind.
"It is quite lovely here," Anne said. "I do believe that if the land had been mine before the house was built, I would have chosen a site close to this lake. It seems sad that such a beautiful spot should be seen so rarely. I did not even know it existed until today."
"I am not at all pleased with your behavior, madam," Merrick said.
"What?"
"I believe you heard me," he said, "and I believe you know the causes of my displeasure."
"Indeed I do not," Anne replied, "except that you did not wish me to be here at all. What have I done, pray?"
"I am well aware," he said, "that when I met you, you were very much a spinster who had been left on the shelf, so to speak. You lured me into marriage, whether deliberately or unintentionally I neither know nor care at this late date. But I do know you are an opportunist. You saw your chance to come here and meet all the members of my family, and you maneuvered it so carefully that even I cannot accuse you absolutely of having openly disobeyed me. And I have watched you, madam, inveigle yourself into the good graces of one after another of my relatives here. What do you hope to accomplish, Anne? Do you hope that if enough of my cousins and uncles speak favorably of you to me and show disapproval of my living apart from you, I shall take you with me when we leave here?"
"Alexander," Anne said. She still held his arm, but she looked out across the lake, her chin held high. "My experience of the world has been necessarily small. I have not met a great many people in my life. But I believe I would have to travel a wide area and a long time to find another man as conceited as you. Why, pray, would I wish to live with you? So that I might gaze on your handsome person every day and tell myself what a grand catch I have made? So that I might listen to you list my shortcomings every day and grow more and more sensible of the great honor you have done me by condescending to marry me? You flatter yourself, my lord."
Merrick stopped walking and turned to face her. A quick glance showed him that they were out of sight of the group sitting on the bank. "Since when have you decided that you may talk to me like this?" he asked. "You forget yourself, I believe, madam, and to whom you speak."
"You are Alexander Stewart, Viscount Merrick, and my husband," Anne said coolly, looking directly into his eyes. "And I would you were not."
He stared at her, completely dumbfounded for a moment. "Have you taken leave of your senses?" he said. "You are my wife, Anne, whether you like it or not. If you believe you can speak to me as you wish and defy me and flirt openly with other men before my eyes, you will be forced to learn the truth in a most painful way, I can assure you."
"Flirt?" she said, eyebrows raised. "Have you really seen me flirting, Alexander? And with whom, pray? I do believe I smiled at Grandpapa this morning."
He caught her by one arm and shook her. "Come, madam," he said, "this defiance and sarcasm and assumed innocence do not suit you. My cousin Jack has been a womanizer since he was little more than a boy. He cannot resist trying to prove that he can conquer every pretty woman he meets. And it matters not to him whether the woman be married or not. In fact, I do believe he prefers his women to be already married. There is less likelihood that he will be trapped into marrying them himself. And I must say from personal experience that I can now appreciate his reasoning. Don't make the mistake, Anne, of believing that he is really interested in you. He merely wishes to amuse himself and enrage me. You make a fool of yourself by playing his game."
"Do I?" said Anne sweetly. "But then I am just the frustrated-spinster type, who has had her head turned by the practiced charms of a rake, am I not, Alexander? You should pity me, my lord, not be angry with me."
Merrick grabbed Anne's free arm and shook her until she caught at his lapels to steady herself. "Stop this!" he said through clenched teeth. "I have not seen this side of you before, Anne, and I do not like it. I will not have you behave this way before my family, do you understand?"
"Alexander," she said, still clinging to his coat, "there was a time when I was awed by your good looks and your title and obvious knowledge of the world. There was a time when I felt that if you did not love me or want me or even treat me with common courtesy, the fault must be in me. I have had much time to myself in which to think. You have kindly provided me with that time. And I have come to realize that you are a selfish and conceited man, who is not worthy of my love or even of my respect. I am your wife, as you say, and you will find that in all public ways I shall be obedient to you. I shall return to Redlands next week without a murmur of complaint. You need not fear that I shall cry and plead with you to take me to London. But in essential matters I am not part of you. I am a person in my own right, my lord, and you will not crush me again. I invite you to try."
She pulled free of his hands and moved away from the margin of the lake into the shade of the trees. Indeed, she was not as calm as she hoped she had appeared. She walked until she had reached the cover of the trees, and then she began to hurry, and soon she was running almost in panic farther and farther into the forest. He must not follow. She must not let him catch up to her and see that her control had broken. Fool! She must be the greatest
fool in Christendom. All that she had said about him was true. If she had not been convinced of his overbearing arrogance before today, she had had ample proof in the last half-hour. He was insufferable. She hated him. How, then, could she love him so much? It was all physical, she told herself again and again, as if the repetition in her mind would finally convince her. If he were not so handsome, if he were not such a good lover, she would be free to hate him without reservation. She did not love him. She merely lusted after him. Her tears began to fall as she plunged deeper among the trees.
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"We should get back to the others," Miss Fitzgerald said. "They will be wanting to eat tea and will be waiting for us. It would not be wise to delay. Even as it is, the rain may not hold off until we have finished our picnic."
"Oh," said Rose, pouting, "but Jack has promised to take us as far as the bridge, Ruby, so that we might walk to the center arch and see the house. I have not seen that view since I was quite a young girl."
"And now you are in your dotage," her sister said. "There will be plenty of other occasions for that walk, Rose."
"But goodness only knows when Jack will be here again," her sister argued.
"I have realized since returning here," Jack said, smiling down at Rose, "that I have much neglected my grandparents in the last few years. I am determined to mend my ways. There are many attractions to a stay in the country."
Rose blushed.
"Turn around here, Frederick," Miss Fitzgerald ordered, "and let Jack here take the oars. You are not accustomed to heavy work, and I would not wish to see you get blisters on your hands."