by Amanda Quick
“Yes. And I found her quite charming.” Miss Dorchester really was a nice young lady, Iphiginia thought, even if her parents were a trifle over ambitious.
Bennet glowed with enthusiasm. “She is most charming, indeed. Very likely the most charming woman on the face of the earth.”
Marcus would require some convincing of that fact, but Iphiginia had a hunch that all would be well between Bennet and his beloved Miss Dorchester.
“Our situation is quite different from your own, however,” Bennet continued. “You and my brother needn’t bother with a long engagement. No offense, Mrs. Bright, but it’s not as though you were a young chit fresh out o the schoolroom. And God knows my brother is not getting any younger.”
“True.”
Bennet frowned. “Cannot ever remember my brother being young. Even when I was a lad, he seemed something of an antiquity. But that’s neither here nor there. The important thing is your marriage.”
“I appreciate your concern, Mr. Cloud. However—” Iphiginia broke off frowning at the sound of another carriage halting in the street. “More visitors?”
The knock on the front door was followed by the sound of familiar voices in the front hall.
“Good grief,” Iphiginia whispered. “Corina and Richard. And Aunt Zoe and Lord Otis. What is going on here? Pray excuse me, Mr. Cloud.”
She leaped to her feet, dashed across the room, and flung open the library door before Mrs. Shaw could announce the new arrivals.
“Iphiginia,” Zoe exclaimed. “You will never guess who has just arrived in Town.”
Corina, dressed in a charming blue gown that nicely complemented her golden hair and blue eyes, turned toward Iphiginia with an expression of grave concern on her lovely face.
“Iphiginia. Are you all right? What is going on?”
“Good afternoon, Corina. Richard.”
Richard Hampton, his handsome features set in lines of worry inclined his head. “Good afternoon, Iphiginia. We set out for London the moment we received the message.”
“What message?”
Corina shuddered. “The strange one that said you had become the… Well, never mind. It is too dreadful to repeat. I knew it could not be true, of course. But I had to find out what was going on. We arrived an hour ago.”
“And came straight to my house.” Zoe gave Iphiginia a wry, apologetic look. “Otis and I told them that they must ask their questions of you, not us.”
Richard’s warm, brown eyes were deeply troubled. “I shall be blunt, Iphiginia. We received an extremely alarming message informing us that you had become the paramour of the Earl of Masters.”
Zoe rolled her eyes.
“Richard, really, must you say such things aloud?” Corina flushed. “We are in mixed company, you know.”
“I apologize, my dear, but we must get to the bottom of this,” Richard said with considerable determination. “This is no time to be mealy-mouthed or delicate.”
Bennet came up to stand behind Iphiginia. “What you have heard is a damned lie.”
“Who are you?” Richard demanded.
“Bennet Cloud, Masters’s brother. And I am pleased to inform you that Mrs. Bright is not my brother’s mistress. Far from it. She is his fiancée.”
Chaos erupted in the crowded hall. Everyone tried to talk at once.
“Fiancée, “ Corina gasped. “Iphiginia, do you mean to tell me that you are engaged?”
Richard looked startled. “To an earl?”
“I say,” Otis murmured. “I hadn’t heard about this development. Congratulations, m’dear.”
Zoe rounded on Iphiginia. “Good Lord. So Masters has decided to do the proper thing by you, has he?”
“Yes, he has,” Bennet said staunchly. “The problem is that Iphiginia does not wish to marry him.”
Amelia appeared. “That is perfectly ridiculous. She will most certainly have to marry him.”
“Of course she will,” Corina decreed. “If my sister’s name has been linked to Masters’s in a fashion which has cast even the smallest shadow over her reputation, she has no choice but to marry him.”
Richard nodded soberly. “Quite right. If he fails to come up to scratch, I shall call him out.”
“Call Masters out?” Otis looked at him with alarm.
“Silence.” Iphiginia raised her hand to get everyone’s attention. “I said, silence.” When that faded, she made a fist and pounded loudly on the wall. “If you please.”
Silence finally descended. Everyone looked at her. “Now, then,” Iphiginia said quite forcefully, “let us be clear about this matter. My connection with the Earl of Masters is no one’s business but my own. And his.”
Zoe sighed. “You may as well be realistic about this, Iphiginia. If he has made you an offer, you will have to accept it.”
“And be grateful for it,” Corina added bluntly. “Especially if your reputation has, indeed, been sullied.”
“Quite right,” Richard said.
“Enough.” Iphiginia put her hands on her hips and glowered at the lot. “I will say this once and for all. I have absolutely no intention of marrying a man who, as Mr. Cloud here has just pointed out, is incapable of the higher sentiments.”
“What higher sentiments?” Amelia asked.
“What on earth are you talking about?” Zoe demanded.
“Man’s got a fortune and a title,” Otis pointed out logically. “Should think that would compensate for any number of elevated feelings.”
“My brother will make you an excellent husband, Mrs. Bright,” Bennet said loyally. “Shouldn’t think the more refined emotions would be very important in your marriage. After all, you and Masters are both of an intellectual nature.”
“Bloody hell, what does that matter?” Iphiginia could have wept, she was so angry and overset. “Listen to me, all of you. I will not marry a man who has a rule against falling in love.”
A short, stark silence fell.
And then a large, familiar figure moved in the doorway.
“You have taught me to break most of my other rules, Iphiginia,” Marcus said quietly. “Teach me to break this one, too.”
Everyone turned, dumbfounded, toward Marcus. They had all been so busy arguing that none of them had heard him come up the steps and open the front door.
Iphiginia met his eyes. A rush of longing went through her. She loved him so much, she thought. She had always known that they had been meant for each other.
She had to believe that he could learn to love her. “Oh, Marcus.”
She flew toward the doorway and sailed into his arms. Marcus caught her close and held her very tightly.
CHAPTER TWENTY
The news that Dodgson slithered out of town shortly after dark went unremarked by virtually everyone except Amelia. She wept with relief.
The truly riveting news, as far as the Polite World was concerned, was the engagement of the Earl of Masters to his notorious mistress, Mrs. Bright.
Word of the betrothal and the plans for a speedy marriage by special license flew through the ton. The curious and the amazed as well as a number of genuine well wishers lay in wait at every point along the park paths that afternoon.
Perched boldly atop the high seat of Marcus’s sleek black phaeton, Iphiginia met stare after stare with a cool smile and a regal inclination of her head. She and Marcus dealt with the comments and veiled questions with bland civility.
That evening the inquisition began anew at every hall and soiree.
Herbert came up to Iphiginia at the Binghams’ ball. “Cannot blame them, y’know,” he said, slanting a glance at two turbaned matrons who had just finished quizzing Iphiginia. “Word of your engagement took Society by surprise. I confess, I was rather startled, m’self.”
“So was I.” Iphiginia smiled at Herbert, relieved to see a friendly face. Zoe and Otis had disappeared a few minutes ago and Marcus, who had been helping her deal with the curious, had gone off to fetch some champagne.
H
erbert gave her a kind, supportive smile, but his dear, normally cheerful gaze was troubled. “No offense, but are you certain you know what you’re doing? I realize that Masters is rich and there is the title. But marriage is a very serious proposition.”
“I assure you, I am aware of that.”
“Speaking as your friend, one who knows you infinitely better than Masters does, I beseech you to give the matter more consideration before you take any irrevocable steps. There are rumors that you intend to wed by special license. Surely you can wait before you rush into this?”
Iphiginia looked at him in surprise. “What makes you think you know me better than Masters does?”
Herbert gazed out over the crowded room. “I have felt that way from the beginning, Iphiginia. You and I have much in common. More than you realize. In a way, I believe that we are two of a kind.”
“I know that you wish to be a good friend to me and I very much appreciate it.” Iphiginia touched his sleeve. “But you must not concern yourself on my behalf. I know what I’m doing.”
“Do you?” Herbert looked at her. “I hope you are right, m’dear. I shall miss you.”
“Miss me?”
“I fear that once you are wed to Masters, I shall see a great deal less of you.”
“Mr. Hoyt, you are acting as though I am about to be locked away in a convent.”
“A harem, I believe, would be a better description,” Marcus said from just behind Iphiginia’s left shoulder.
She turned quickly to smile at him. “There you are, my lord. I did not see you return from the buffet table.”
“I know.” Marcus thrust a glass of champagne into her fingers, but his gaze rested on Herbert. “You were deep in conversation with your good friend Mr. Hoyt.”
Herbert inclined his head in a stiff nod. “‘Evening, Masters. I was merely giving Mrs. Bright my best wishes on her forthcoming marriage.”
“Thank you, Herbert,” Iphiginia said gently.
“My pleasure.” Herbert took her gloved hand in his and kissed the back of it. “Whatever happens, Mrs. Bright, I want you to know that I shall treasure the friendship we have shared.”
Marcus took Iphiginia’s arm. “I think it’s time we moved along to the Andersons’. It’s nearly midnight and we are expected to put in an appearance.”
“Yes, of course.” Iphiginia gave Herbert a farewell smile and allowed herself to be led away through the crowd.
“I grow increasingly weary of stumbling over Hoyt in order to get to you,” Marcus said.
“I regret that he annoys you, but he is my friend, Marcus. I am quite fond of him.” Iphiginia gave Marcus a repressive glance as he led her down the steps to the waiting carriage. “I expect you to be polite to my friends after we are married.”
“Of course, my dear,” Marcus said with uncharacteristic and rather suspect meekness.
Iphiginia scowled at him. “What was that nonsense about locking me away in a harem?”
“A harem of one, my sweet. I assure you that you will be the only occupant.”
“That sounds interesting,” Iphiginia said.
“It certainly struck me that way.”
Iphiginia was exhausted by the time Marcus finally escorted her home at three in the morning. The town house was quiet, Amelia and the staff having long since retired to bed. Marcus and Iphiginia went quietly across the hall and walked into the shadowed library.
Marcus closed the door, loosened his cravat, and lit the candle on Iphiginia’s desk.
“Good heavens, what an exhausting evening.” Iphiginia stripped off her white kid gloves and flopped into the chair behind her desk. Her white sarcanet and satin skirts fluttered around her. “One would have thought you had announced your intention to marry a female who possessed two heads. I have never seen so many curious eyes or heard so many gasps of amazement.”
“The worst is over.”
“I certainly hope so.” Iphiginia frowned at her white skirts. “The first thing I am going to do after our marriage is purchase some new gowns. I am dreadfully bored with white.”
“It served its purpose.” Marcus helped himself to a small glass of brandy.
“I suppose it did.”
“It was an extremely daring and rather shrewd notion.
“Thank you, my lord. I was rather pleased with the notion myself.” Iphiginia tried to summon up a casual smile.
In truth she felt anything but calm tonight. The enormity of the step she was about to take was having a deeply unsettling effect on her nerves.
Teach me to break this rule, too. Had Marcus really meant that he was willing to learn how to love again? Iphiginia wondered. Or had he offered her the challenge, knowing that she would be unable to resist?
He could be so bloody clever, she thought. “Speaking of our marriage,” Marcus said.
“Yes?” Iphiginia watched as he began to prowl the room, brandy glass in one hand.
Marcus paused in front of a statue of Aphrodite. “I intend to procure a special license in the morning. We can be married tomorrow afternoon.”
Iphiginia caught her breath. “So soon?”
He looked at her over his shoulder, his intelligent gaze shuttered and brooding. “There is no need to delay the event, is there?”
It dawned on Iphiginia that, in his own way, Marcus was as ill at ease as she was tonight. How odd that, having been through so much together, they should suddenly find themselves nervous around each other.
“No,” she said.
Marcus nodded once, satisfied. “I shall make the arrangements.”
“Very well.”
Marcus took a swallow of brandy and moved on to study the statue of the Roman centurion. “I thought we managed quite nicely this evening.”
“People are amazed that you are going to marry your mistress, you know.”
“You are not my mistress.” Marcus set his glass down on a nearby table. “You are my fiancée. The gossip will vanish once we are wed.”
Iphiginia glanced at the copy of Illustrations of Classical Antiquities on her desk. “Are you certain?”
“Quite.” Marcus sounded without any humor. “Marriage fixes everything, you see.”
Iphiginia recalled the circumstances of Marcus’s first marriage and winced. “Yes.”
“It silences scandal before it can flower. It renders titillating gossip of an affair into extremely dull tea conversation. In short, Iphiginia, once we are married, we shall become a very boring subject so far as Society is concerned.”
Iphiginia gazed at him very steadily. “Is that the reason you wish to marry me, sir? I would sooner return to Deepford than be wed in order to silence the threat of scandal.”
“No,” Marcus said. “It is not why I wish to marry you. I wish to marry you because you are the only woman I know who can keep me from becoming a clockwork man.”
“Marcus. “ Iphiginia was shocked at the analogy. “You cannot mean that.”
“But I do mean it.” He hesitated, as though gathering himself to jump off a cliff into a rolling sea. “I need you to keep me from becoming a victim of my own rules, Iphiginia.”
Iphiginia felt the talons of his deeply buried torment as though it were her own flesh they pierced. She knew without a trace of doubt what his admission had cost him.
Another rule broken, no doubt, she thought. She got to her feet and went around the corner of her desk. She stepped into his arms and framed his hard face with her hands.
“Marcus, pay close attention. You are in no danger of becoming an automaton. You are a warm, passionate man with extremely refined sensibilities.”
“Do you think so?” The dark intensity vanished from his voice. He grinned briefly. “Well, in that case, it would probably be best not to delay our marriage. I’m not at all certain my refined sensibilities could withstand the strain of waiting.”
“No.” Iphiginia stood on tiptoe to brush her lips against his faintly curved mouth. “We would not want to stifle your warm, pass
ionate nature any longer than necessary.”
“Or yours.” Marcus folded her into an unshakable hold and kissed her thoroughly.
He deepened the kiss until Iphiginia sighed softly and went limp in his arms.
“I love you, Marcus,” she murmured against his throat.
She was not certain he had heard her, but when he raised his head a moment later, his eyes were the color of ancient amber. “I shall come for you at three tomorrow. I trust you will be ready.”
Iphiginia smiled. “Should I wear white?”
“You may wear whatever you wish.” Marcus moved reluctantly away from her to scoop his hat up off her desk. “Or nothing at all. Good night, Iphiginia. I shall look forward to tomorrow night. Do you realize that it will be the first time we will be able to make love in a bed?”
“How very convenient should you suffer another collapse after the event, my lord.”
“Adam will be coming by again today at five o’clock to take me for a drive in the park,” Amelia announced at breakfast the following morning. “What do you think I should wear, Iphiginia?”
Iphiginia frowned over the gossip column in the morning paper. The article she had been reading featured a very recognizable “Mrs. B” and an equally obvious “Lord M.” The news of the impending nuptials had been related in arch prose.
The Polite World is agog this morning to learn that Lord M. has reportedly broken his most infamous rule .
“What did you say, Amelia?”
“I said, will you help me select something to wear for a drive in the park this afternoon?”
Iphiginia looked up and saw the hopeful anticipation in her cousin’s eyes. She smiled.
“You and I are very near the same size,” Iphiginia said. “You shall wear my saffron yellow walking gown and the pale yellow pelisse that goes with it. The color will be perfect on you.”
Amelia’s eyes widened. “But you have not yet had an opportunity to wear that gown and pelisse yourself.”
“It is yours with my blessings.” Iphiginia refolded the newspaper and set it aside.
“Very kind.”
“Think nothing of it. We must both go shopping as soon as possible. You need some brighter gowns and I am weary of white.”