The Duke's Divorce (The Reluctant Grooms Series Volume IV)
Page 8
“Robert, would you mind not staring at Fiona’s décolletage.” His mother’s voice cut across the carriage. “You are the one who is being indecent now.”
He snorted and stared out the window. He could imagine the headlines in the papers tomorrow.
Duchess of Cantin Humiliates His Grace in Front of Hundreds of Onlookers.
Duchess of Cantin Falls Out of Her Gown While Dancing.
Duchess of Cantin Indecently Exposed Her First Night on the Town.
Fiona looked like a common doxy. No, that was not true. She looked like an expensive doxy. How many other men would think her thus? How many men would he have to see at dawn?
His mother held Fiona in whispered conversation. He quickly glanced over. Damn it, his mother was right. Fiona was stunning. And those milky white breasts of hers were, quite possibly, the most alluring he had ever beheld. He ached to run his finger under the edge of the silk, he was sure her breast would pop right out. He shifted on the squabs. Bloody hell, this was going to be an uncomfortable night. He needed a drink. Maybe several.
The carriage pulled up to the Berringbourne’s and Robert descended the coach without waiting for the tiger to set the steps. He stood rigidly while he helped his mother down. She spared him a glance, and then walked to speak with friends near the gate. As Fiona emerged from the carriage, his view was of her perfect white breasts, adorned with his gift of the emerald necklace. When he clasped Fiona’s hand in his, a sudden lightning bolt hit his belly. If he felt this way, surely, several other men would feel it too. Could he dare ask William to be his second?
Fiona waited as he shut the carriage door, staring at him, her eyes large and shining. “I’m sorry you do not like the gown, my lord. I thought it the prettiest to wear on my first night in Society and I wanted to make a good impression on your friends. I shan’t wear it again.”
She stepped away, but Robert grabbed her elbow, and she turned back to face him. “Fiona, forgive me. ‘Tis a lovely gown and you are exceptionally beautiful wearing it. I just did not expect to see quite so much of you exposed. It may be the current fashion, but I do not like it. Perhaps in the future, you will ask your dressmaker to refrain from cutting the neckline so low.”
“Of course, my lord. To tell the truth, I do not like it either, but your mother said it was all the fashion.”
He should have known it was not Fiona’s idea. He knew her to be extremely modest. He sighed. He had to admit, she was breathtaking.
“Come, let us go in and I shall introduce you to my friends.” He placed her hand on his arm and they followed his mother into Lady Berringbourne’s mansion.
*****
Fiona drew a sharp breath as she entered the ballroom. Jewels and gowns sparkled and shimmered in the candlelight from the chandeliers. Men in black tie and jacket dotted the sea of color like starlings in a garden. Young girls in white gowns lined one side of the room with their mothers, waiting for their dance cards to fill. Fiona was glad she did not have to endure such humiliation. Under the cacophony of conversation, musicians tuned their instruments. Fiona longed to dance. An eternity since she had, she felt like a child again. She listened to the small orchestra and marked out three quarter time with her fingers against her thigh.
Robert tugged on her hand and they walked to the other side of the room near the terrace doors. She wanted to remain in the thick of it, wanted to watch the people, the ladies with their funny plumes or headdresses bobbing as they spoke, the men glancing at their fob watches to figure out when they could leave their wives.
“Oh, Fiona, how wonderful you look.”
Fiona turned away from the crowd and found Penny standing with her husband, William. Robert introduced her to his other cousin, William’s brother Ellis, the Marquess of Haverlane, and his best friend, Captain Richard Gaines and his wife, Amanda.
“Is not this lovely?” Amanda asked.
“’Tis very grand.” Fiona clutched at Robert’s arm to steady herself. She felt as if she might swoon from excitement.
“I believe I need a drink,” Robert said.
“Robert, surely you do not mean to leave Fiona alone so soon?” Penny asked. “You must take her about the room and introduce your new bride to all and sundry.”
William nodded in agreement. “Robby, I shall go and retrieve your libation. What will you have?”
“Never mind,” Robert said curtly. “Come Fiona, let us take a turn about so that I may show you off.”
They barely walked five feet before Robert stopped and introduced her to Lord and Lady Buxton. Introductions made, she and Robert moved on but stopped again. And again. And again. Fiona knew by the end of the hour she would never remember anyone’s name.
Two country-dances and a quadrille had finished and they weren’t even halfway around the room yet. Oh, when would she get a chance to dance? Fiona spotted Lady Olivia and they spent a few minutes chatting. As Fiona watched the dancers execute the final turns for the reel, Lady Olivia spoke with Robert. Fiona tried to pinpoint exactly the last time she had danced. The closest she could come was the summer she was ten-and-seven. She had longed to learn the waltz, but Mrs. Delacorte forbid it. The dance ended and the musicians softly tuned their instruments again. She glanced quickly at Robert who wore a scowl across his handsome face. He couldn’t possibly be scowling at her, she hadn’t done anything.
“Come, Fiona.” Robert extended his hand. “Let us get this over with.”
Get what over with? Where was he taking her now? Robert led her to the middle of the dance floor.
“I presume you know how to waltz,” he said.
“Unfortunately not, my lord. I was not allowed to learn.” Fiona waited for him to lead her off the floor. He would not let her embarrass him.
“Very well then,” he said and sighed. “It is a one-two-three step and very simple. Follow my lead and try not to trip over my feet.”
“My lord, if you do not wish to dance with me, then do not do so. I’m sure I would find another partner who is more willing.” Fiona took a step back.
Robert took up her hand. “Like walking in the park unattended, this is another rule of Society. You may not dance with another until I, your husband, turn you about the floor first. As this is your very first ball, it is my duty to lead you off, as it were.”
The music began and Robert bowed to Fiona’s curtsy. He placed one hand on the small of her back, and took up her other. Fiona shivered.
“Are you ready to begin, one-two-three, one-two-three,” he said and they followed the other couples around the parquet.
Fiona found it easiest to follow him if she closed her eyes and listened to the music. His hands led her where she needed to go. She relaxed and enjoyed the sensation of being in his arms. He was a superb dancer and she wondered if they would have another opportunity to dance together before the night was over.
“You are a very fast learner, Fiona,” he said.
She opened her eyes. His were so close to hers she could see the golden depths in his irises.
“You are a very good teacher, my lord.” Fiona was breathless being this close to him. She could not deny he was the most handsome man she had ever known. Another shiver ran through her body and he pulled her closer.
“I do wish you would call me by my given name for the rest of the evening,” he said softly in her ear. “It would not do for others to notice this quirk of yours. We are supposed to be newly wedded.” His warm breath on the side of her neck heated up a fire inside her she had no idea how to extinguish. She clasped his hand tighter.
“Which would you prefer I call you, Cantin or Robert?”
He said nothing for a moment and then, “I believe Robert, would do.”
“Or should I use the less informal as sometimes your cousin does, and call you Robby.”
He moved her closer still.
“I do not believe we shall ever be in a room where that will be necessary.” He sighed.
“Oh, is this another rule I have
yet to learn? There is only a particular place where I may address you as such?”
Robert leaned back and gazed in her eyes with a look she could not fathom. “I believe that place would be the bedroom, Fiona. Robby is far too intimate for you to be addressing me in public.”
He settled her back against him and twirled her without speaking again until the dance ended, all too soon, much too soon.
They stood at the edge of the dance floor, inches apart, not touching. The loss of his arms around her left her feeling like a ship in the desert. She wanted to say something, but could not manage a coherent thought.
“You may now dance with whomever you choose,” he said. “However, you will reserve the waltz for me, and only me. If I find you in the arms of another, I will be exceedingly displeased.” Robert brought her hand to his lips. “Do I make myself clear, wife?”
Robert’s intentional use of the word brought his point home.
“Yes, husband, as clear as glass.”
Chapter Ten
Robert led her back to the corner where his companions stood, waiting for their wives to return from the dowager dais. After conferring, it was determined that William would accompany Robert to the refreshment table in the other room, while Ellis stood watch over Fiona. He was the more intimidating of the two cousins and now that Fiona had had her turn about the dance floor, every fop and dandy would be vying for a chance to turn her as well. Ellis would make sure Fiona did not get in over her head.
As William and Robert made their way to the outer hall, Robert detoured to the library. There, Robert retrieved two glasses of brandy from a footman.
William held out his hand.
“Forgive me, Will, I’m afraid these are both mine.” Robert downed the first in one gulp and placed the glass on the side table. He took a slower sip from the second glass and looked at his cousin.
“I must say, Robby, I have never quite seen you looking thus.” William took his own glass of brandy.
“It shows?” Robert asked in a sarcastic tone.
“Well, yes, if you must know, it does, very much in fact. I do not know what has brought about such misery, but surely it cannot be as bad as all that. Have you had another disagreement with Fiona already?”
Robert looked at William. He couldn’t possibly know about the gown incident. “To what do you refer?”
“Penny told me you had a row with Fiona about her speaking to the servants. Pen said the poor girl was quite undone actually, with tears and a heavy heart.”
“Fiona wept?” Robert asked. Over something, he had said. That was preposterous, the woman snarled like an angry cat whenever he tried to impose his authority.
“Yes. Pen wanted to run you to ground over it, but I told her you two needed to manage that between yourselves.”
Robert thought back to that day in the study with Edwards, who found the staff had been telling Fiona about Robert and his business affairs. Robert immediately called for her and banned her from speaking with them other than to issue a request. Her reply shocked him.
“Who would you have me talk with then, my lord? You are never here and when you are, you ignore me. I have tried to engage you in conversation, but you take any excuse to leave. Your mother lives her own life and I have not so many friends to keep me engaged every day. What is it you wish me to do, sit in my room, by myself, day after day, the way I did in Scotland?”
She had fled the library, but he thought about her reply for a long while. He then told Edwards she could speak with the staff in any manner she so chose. Edwards had been a little put out, but he would not disobey his master.
William gave Robert a questioning look.
“That has been sorted,” Robert said. “Just a misunderstanding on Edwards’ part. All has been set to right.”
“I have had the opportunity to converse with her,” William said. “And I must say she seems to be a delightful creature, besides being blazingly beautiful. Are you sure you do not wish to keep her?” William took a last swallow of brandy.
“No,” Robert said. He was finished discussing his wife. “I suppose we should find them some lemonade.”
Robert and William found the refreshment table and asked a footman to follow them with a tray of drinks. Stepping back into the ballroom, Robert waylaid by Lord Montescu, watched his wife dance the last steps with a Viscount whose name he could not remember. Trying to stay focused on Montescu’s shipment for the next boat bound for the West Indies proved a challenge as Robert watched Fiona walk off the dance floor into a circle of waiting admirers. Fiona spoke gaily, and laughed, and when the Earl of Greenleigh bowed before her, she gladly accepted his hand for the next dance with a warm smile.
Robert found himself with a stirring in his gut he did not like. He had never elicited that kind of smile from her. Then again, he had never tried.
Business concluded with Montescu, Robert made his way back to the corner. He stood stiffly, while he waited for Fiona to finish with Greenleigh. She gracefully stepped back and forth through rows of dancers, her face animated and flushed, and the smile never left her lips. She could do no better with Greenleigh as a husband. His Earldom was secure, his estate handsome, his fortune large, although not as large as Robert’s own. However, the earl was a bore, a great bore, who only talked about Italian art or the state of Parliament. Robert supposed as a man, Fiona might find him attractive, if she could get past his beak of a nose.
Robert’s gut stirred again, and decided he did not want to watch his wife in the arms of other men. His main objective concluded, dancing the first with her, he saw no other reason to remain by her side. Thankfully, he knew Lady Berringbourne well. She was of the old tradition and only allowed two waltzes. The next would be right before supper at midnight. Robert checked his watch. He had two hours before he had to dance again.
Robert made his way back to the library. Perhaps a game of cards might take his mind off Fiona.
An hour later, Robert found his mother sitting in the dowager corner with Lady Olivia and several of their cronies.
“Dearest, what are you doing here? You should be dancing with Fiona,” his mother said as he bent to kiss her on the cheek.
“I believe her dance card is full, Mother. I came to see if you would like a twirl.”
She smiled. “What a lovely thought, thank you, Robert, but no, I shall decline.” She looked at him with concern. “Are you well, dearest? You seem rather wan.”
“No, I am quite well, thank you.” He sat next to her. “I just do not know what to do with myself. I was quite prepared for Fiona to get into a scrape of some kind, but as that does not seem to be forthcoming, I find myself bored.”
“Bored? At a ball? Dearest, surely there must be a card game in the library, or friends with which to speak. I’m sure I saw Davingdale among the throng.”
Robert shrugged. “I have already spoken to him, and played a round in the library.” He checked his pocket watch. Again. “I believe I am getting too old for this, Mother. I cannot wait for it to be over.” What had Fiona done to his proclivity for enjoyment?
Lady Olivia clucked. “Cantin, my Fuzzy stayed at every ball ‘til dawn, up until his dying day. He was eighty when he passed and you are less than half his age.”
Robert gave her a sidelong glance. “For some reason I feel twice Lord Caymore’s age right now.”
“Oh, dearest.” His mother sighed. “Why do not you dance, if not with Fiona, then perhaps with Penelope. You should do your duty by your cousin’s wife as he has done by yours. ‘Twould be highly irregular if you did not.” She patted his hand.
She was right. He had seen William take a turn with Fiona.
Robert kissed his mother again, bowed to Lady Olivia and headed back toward the terrace doors. He found Ellis and William conversing with several of their friends who congratulated him on his exquisite choice in wife.
“Quite the fashion your wife is wearing,” said Ferring. “Wish my Dotty looked that good.”
Ro
bert laughed to himself. Ferring’s wife could never look that good on her best day.
“Bet you cannot wait to take it off her, eh, old man?” this from Gredlow.
“Is she as spirited in the bedroom as she seems on the dance floor?”
Robert clenched his fists and glared at Stockton. The man was a lecher of the first water. How he remained in their circle, Robert couldn’t hazard a guess.
“I shall ask you to refrain from those kinds of comments about my wife,” Robert snarled.
“All in good fun, Cantin. All in good fun.” Stockton clapped him on the back.
He supposed it was. Robert remembered his own bawdy humor when presented with another’s, similar situation. He had to get a hold on himself.
The music ended and Robert turned to watch Fiona approach on the arm of Greenleigh. Again? How many dances had she allowed him?
“Robert, how lovely you could join us,” Fiona said.
Was that a hint of sarcasm in her tone?
“Yes, well, as my mother reminded me, I must ask Penelope for a dance before the night is over. And as you seem to have no lack of admirers, I thought you should not mind.”
Fiona’s smile faded. “No, of course not,” she said and turned to Gredlow. “I believe this next is ours, is it not?” And with that, Fiona placed her hand on Gredlow’s arm and they proceeded to join the lines forming on the dance floor.
William nudged him in the ribs. “Are you daft? You should have asked her first before Penny.”
Yes, he should have. What was wrong with him? He was married to the most beautiful woman in the room. Yet he didn’t want to touch her, not unless he absolutely had to. Dancing the waltz had been torture. She smelled sweet and fresh and felt delightful in his arms. Holding her thus had given rise to an almost painful embarrassment, which he had no wish to repeat. He could not wait for his mother to finally tire of the evening so he could see them home, go to his club, and seek solace in drink. If this was going to be his life during the course of the Season, it was going to be a hard one to maintain.