“I would hear it nonetheless.”
Recalling Splendor’s innate goodness, Harmony relented. “The same magic that came to you has come to me. I have fallen in love with Emil. I know love is what I feel because ’tis quite the deepest, most intense emotion I have ever known. Emil has become everything to me, Splendor, and I can think of nothing I would nay do for him.”
Splendor’s face lit up with joy. “Harmony, ’tis wonderful, sister! ’Tis supremely glorious!”
“There is more,” Harmony said, rubbing her little hand down Autumn Fire’s left ear. “I am married. Emil and I were wed in secret five days ago in a town called Telford. And…and I have already conceived. I carry twins, a girl and a boy. I have not yet told Father because Emil and I have been enjoying what humans call a honeymoon. We have been all over the world. I would have been pleased to stay in Emil’s house, but all the traveling we have done made him happy. We returned to his home last night, and when I tell Father that I have wed, I shall also inform him that I will not live without my husband. If I must, I shall leave Pillywiggin forever.” Diamonds brimmed in Splendor’s eyes and trickled to the ground.
“I suspected ’twould be so,” Harmony said. “My news made you sad. I am sorry, sister.”
“Nay, your news did not make me sad, Harmony. I weep with deep happiness for you. When will you tell Father?” Harmony shook her head. “I am not certain. Perhaps I will know when the time is right.”
“I wish for you a long lifetime of love with Emil and your children.”
“I wish the same for you and Jourdian. You have but a week left with him, and he has still not told you he loves you. Do you cry every night, sister?”
Splendor brushed her hand across the frosty trunk of an oak tree as Autumn Fire continued to amble through the cold woods. “I have nay the time to indulge in sadness or self-pity, Harmony. Instead, I have been concentrating all my efforts in endeavoring to find a way to win Jourdian’s love.”
“And?”
“I have decided that what I need is a chance to watch human women whose husbands love them.”
Harmony grabbed Autumn Fire’s forelock and, using the stiff hair as one would use a long, thick vine, she began to swing across the mare’s face. “You have that housekeeper at Heathcourte. Her husband loves her.”
“Aye, but I want to see how other women act, speak, and think as well. Perhaps if I study their appearances and mannerisms I will better understand what it is that makes them so lovable to their husbands. I wonder where I might find a mass of women? ’Twould take forever to seek them out one by one, but if I could be in the midst of many at once I could accomplish my task quickly.”
Her arms held out to her sides for balance, Harmony walked down the length of Autumn Fire’s neck and reclined within a fold of Splendor’s velvet riding skirt. “I know where over a hundred human women will be present.”
Splendor reined Autumn Fire to a halt. “Tell me!”
“At a ball that will be given by a couple by the name of Lord and Lady Chesterton. ’Tis to be held in six days’ time. I was with Emil when he received his invitation. But he will not attend. He says he prefers to be alone with me because our honeymoon is not yet over.”
“A ball,” Splendor murmured, her mind working furiously. “A celebration. ’Tis the birthday of the Chestertons’ daughter. I think I heard Emil say the daughter’s name is Marianna.”
“Marianna,” Splendor repeated, thinking the name sounded familiar. “Jourdian mentioned her once… She wrote him a letter… Aye, a letter, inviting him to attend her cousin’s wedding in London. The letter smelled of roses. Jourdian said she was very pleasing to the eye.”
“What else did he say?”
“’Twas all.”
“There was a time when he considered wedding her. Emil said ’twas her fondest dream to become his duchess. When she learned he had wed you, she took to her bed the way you did when that cat scratched you.”
“What? What do you mean he considered wedding her? He has been betrothed to me since before either of us was born! How dare he—”
“He did not know he was betrothed, and neither did you before Father had the dream.”
Harmony’s statement quickly calmed Splendor’s anger. “Have you told Jourdian about the betrothal, Splendor?”
“Nay. Jourdian is a man who likes to control his own life,” Splendor stated with all the authority of a woman who understood her husband well. “If he knew he’d been destined to become my spouse since before his very conception, he would be supremely angry.”
“He is almost always supremely angry. Even now, he sits in his office brooding over the loss of those stupid orchards.”
Splendor picked Harmony up and held her in her palm. “He lost the orchards?”
“You did not know? He did not tell you?”
“Nay.”
“A man called Percival Brackett bought the orchards, and Emil says that Jourdian is more than likely furious.”
Splendor tried to understand why Jourdian still wanted the fruit orchards. She’d warned him not to buy them.
And then she thought of the answer to her own question. Percival Brackett, she recalled from a conversation with Emil, harbored deep resentment toward the Amberville name. Years before, he and his father had been partly responsible for the near devastation of the Amberville name and holdings.
And now Percival had acquired the orchards that Jourdian wanted.
Splendor dearly hoped that Percival had spent a fortune purchasing the orchards, for they would soon be worthless. “Will you attend the Chesterton party, Splendor?”
“Aye. I shall see this Marianna Chesterton with my own eyes and try to understand what it is about her that almost had Jourdian marry her.”
“What if Jourdian does not wish to take you?”
Splendor peered through the trees, seeing Heathcourte Manor in the distance. “What I learn at the ball will give me one last chance to understand how to make Jourdian love me, Harmony. He will take me. He must, for although he does not know it, our very future depends on it.”
“Yes, we received an invitation to the Chesterton ball, but no, we are not going to attend,” Jourdian said when Splendor floated into his library and asked him if their presence had been requested at Marianna’s birthday ball.
Splendor stubbornly resisted the hurt his gruffness caused her. She loved him, and no other emotion possible to feel was as powerful as that love. “But I have never been to a ball in the human world, Jourdian, and I—”
“In a few weeks we will be holding a small affair here at Heathcourte in honor of Emil and Harmony. It won’t be a ball, but it will give you an idea of how tedious such gatherings can be.”
“But I—”
“I still cannot believe Emil is married,” Jourdian mumbled.
“The ball began an hour ago, husband. We are late.”
He slammed his snifter of brandy down on the table that sat beside his chair, uncaring that the amber liquor splashed onto the expensive Oriental carpet. “Have you gone deaf, Splendor? I said we weren’t going!”
A burst of silver stars shot out of Splendor’s palm and rained down upon her delicate form.
When the magical stardust finally faded, Jourdian saw his wife dressed in a shimmering gold satin ball gown ornamented with clusters of fragrant pink roses. The bodice of the gown dipped shockingly low, revealing more of Splendor’s creamy bosom than Jourdian deemed fitting. Why, if she took a deep breath, or sneezed, or coughed, she’d fall right out of the dress! He could not take his eyes off her pale chest. It was true that she was not full busted, but her small breasts were perfect, so beautiful that the mere sight of them made him uncomfortably warm.
God, he thought. He could barely remember the last time he’d made love to Splendor. Shifting in his chair in an attempt to relieve the building pressure in his loins, he decided that his celibacy would end tonight. Bedding Splendor would not only satisfy his lust but perhaps it would al
so bring about the conception of his son.
“Allow me to compliment you on the elegance of your evening attire, wife, but as I said before, we will not be attending the Chesterton affair.” He glanced at the clock. “It’s nine-thirty, and we are going to retire for the night now.”
She realized instantly that he meant to make love to her, and although the prospect caused her to glow with deep desire, she would not dismiss the opportunity to go to the ball and spy on Marianna Chesterton. The rest of hers and Jourdian’s life was at stake, and if she succeeded with her plans tonight, they would have countless more nights to fill with passion.
“I do not wish to go to bed, Jourdian,” she announced, tilting her chin up. “I wish to go to the ball.”
“We are not going to the—”
“Aye, we are.”
“No—”
“Aye.” Splendor held out her hand, out of which a spray of silver magic sprang forth and sailed toward Jourdian.
Fairy thrall dressed him in an elegant black suit and snow-white shirt.
“Damn it all, Splendor! I told you that we are not going to the blasted Chesterton affair!”
His last loud statement thundered through the elegant ballroom of the Chesterton estate, almost overpowering the strains of a waltz. Looking around, Jourdian needed only two seconds to realize where he was and how he’d arrived.
A few nearby dancers stopped and stared.
Jourdian closed his eyes and counted to ten. “Splendor, do you know what I wish right now?”
“What, husband?”
“I wish the earth would open up and swallow me.”
Splendor cupped her cheek. “That does not sound like much fun to me, Jourdian, but if ’tis what you wish…”
“No!” He took hold of her slender wrist when he saw her star-filled palm. “Take us home this instant.”
“Nay.”
Rage stiffened every part of him. “I wish for you to take us—”
“Lord Amberville!” two women’s voices called.
Jourdian looked up and saw Lady Holden and Lady Briggs waddling toward the doorway where he and Splendor stood. Mildred Holden looked like a large powder puff dressed in her frilly pink gown, and Jourdian thought that Regina Briggs looked like a plump avocado in her drab green dress.
Bloody hell. The women were two of society’s worst busy-bodies, and would no doubt make it their night’s goal to stir up as much trouble as possible. “Ladies,” he muttered.
“How delightful that you decided to come,” Lady Holden said. “And this lovely girl must be your bride. I didn’t recognize her with her clothes on.”
Jourdian felt his features harden as if they’d been turned to stone.
“My name is Splendor.”
“Her name is Lady Amberville,” Jourdian corrected.
“Your Grace,” the ladies greeted the duchess in unison.
“Beautiful gown,” Lady Briggs said, her eyes taking in every detail of the duchess’s attire.
“Jourdian bought it for me,” Splendor said. “I am supremely fond of all the gowns he has given to me, but I do not care to wear the under things. Many of them scratch my skin, and they are all quite heavy. I much prefer to wear as little clothing as—”
“Splendor,” Jourdian murmured.
“Do you not care for shoes, either, Your Grace?” Lady Briggs asked, suddenly noticing the duchess’s bare feet.
“Shoes?” Splendor wiggled her toes, feeling the cold marble floor beneath them. “I do not care for shoes, either, but ’twas my intention to wear them tonight. However, I was rushed. Jourdian did not want to come, you see, so I was forced to—”
“We have to leave,” Jourdian declared.
“Why, you only just arrived!” Lady Briggs exclaimed.
“True, but—”
Lady Holden clucked her tongue. “Come, come now. Everyone will be delighted to see you. I’m afraid you missed dinner, but I’m quite certain that Lady Chesterton will have a plate brought to you should you wish to eat. Or, perhaps you would rather wait for the cake, which will be served shortly. It is Marianna’s birthday, you know.”
“I don’t imagine you could forget the occasion, could you, Lord Amberville?” Lady Briggs asked, anxious to begin a spot of trouble. “You attended Marianna’s last birthday party. Yes, I distinctly remember the two of you swirling the night away in each other’s arms. Rumor had it that wedding bells would soon—”
“Rumors have caused the downfall of many people,” Jourdian flared. “People about whom the rumors are spread, and the people who so enjoy spreading them.”
His warning was so thinly veiled that both ladies quieted for a moment.
“Yes, well, come, Your Grace,” Lady Briggs said to Splendor.
When Lady Briggs took hold of Splendor’s left arm, Jourdian grasped his wife’s right elbow. “I am afraid we cannot stay,” he stated sternly. “My wife has suddenly taken ill.”
“Ill, Jourdian?” Splendor asked. “But I am not—”
“As you can plainly see,” Jourdian began, “she’s pale and slight. Such fragility is—”
“I should like to meet Marianna Chesterton,” Splendor declared, pulling her arm from Jourdian’s grasp.
The ladies tossed smug looks at the duke, and quickly led Splendor farther into the ballroom, leaving Jourdian no choice but to follow.
Every head in the sparkling room turned to stare at him and Splendor. Dancing stopped, laughter faded, and all chitchat ceased. Eventually the orchestra music died away as well, the musicians all wondering what had happened to cast a pall over the room.
But it wasn’t gloom that had silenced the merrymaking. It was mostly curiosity, a bit of disapproval and, on Marianna Chesterton’s part, it was fury.
“Mother, I cannot believe you invited them,” she said angrily.
Lady Chesterton patted her daughter’s bejeweled hand. “Marianna, you know perfectly well that one cannot slight the duke of Heathcourte. It simply isn’t done.”
Noticing that heads had turned toward her, many gazes seeking her reaction to the arrival of Lord and Lady Amberville, Marianna forced herself to smile.
But her smile could have flattened every bubble in her glass of champagne as she watched the flame-haired girl at Jourdian’s side. “Look at her, Mother,” she whispered, still feigning a smile. “She is a common trollop who now possesses the title that I tried for months and months to obtain. Had she not suddenly appeared out of nowhere, I would be Jourdian’s duchess.”
Lady Chesterton nodded. “Surely you can take some comfort in knowing that you will soon be the duchess of Bramwell. Now that Jourdian has wed, Percival Brackett is the best catch in the country. And don’t forget that Percival managed to acquire those orchards in Gloucester before Jourdian could. It was quite a coup. Everyone is talking about it. And it proves that Percival’s power is very nearly of the same caliber as Jourdian’s.”
Marianna sniffed. Very nearly meant that Percival was second best. Jourdian remained the most powerful lord in the land.
“Has Percival not arrived yet?” Lady Chesterton asked. “I don’t see him.”
Marianna continued to watch Jourdian and the new duchess of Heathcourte. “I haven’t seen Percival since Christmas Eve.” And she didn’t care that she hadn’t seen her fiancé. The man was a fop, not a real man like Jourdian Amberville. Even Percival’s kisses were fastidious. Just quick little pecks because more passionate kisses would muss his hair.
A shudder passed through Marianna’s voluptuous body. If not for Percival’s wealth and social standing, she wouldn’t have allowed him within a hundred miles of her.
“Percival will be along straightaway, I am certain,” Lady Chesterton said. “After all, your father plans to announce your engagement tonight. You do know how pleased your father and I were when you finally accepted Percival’s proposal, do you not, Marianna? While we had hoped for an alliance with the Ambervilles, the Bracketts are—”
“Will you
excuse me, Mother? Since this is my party, I must go greet and welcome Jourdian and his bride.”
Before Lady Chesterton could reply, Marianna nodded to the musicians, who quickly began to play again. Another feigned smile glued to her heavily rouged mouth, she then started toward the Ambervilles.
Jourdian saw and heard her coming. Her eyes glittered with anger. And her royal blue silk gown whispered “rage” with each step she took.
He placed a protective arm around Splendor’s shoulders.
And when Splendor looked up at him, she didn’t see the husband she’d come to know so well. She saw another man.
The powerful and forbidding duke of Heathcourte.
Chapter Twenty-two
We shall see you in a bit, Your Graces,” Lady Briggs said when Marianna arrived.
“Yes, that we shall,” Lady Holden agreed.
Jourdian watched both women meld into the crowd of guests, their mouths moving so quickly that the motions of their lips were blurred. He knew that in only moments every person in the room would know that Splendor was barefoot and naked beneath her gown.
And now he would have to contend with Marianna, who stood before him now wearing so much rose perfume that the heavy scent forced him to take a step backward. “Marianna.”
“Jourdian, darling.” Holding out her arm, she waited for him to kiss her hand and couldn’t suppress a feeling of profound desire.
Once upon a time she’d felt those sensuous lips of his on her mouth, and his kisses would remain branded in her memory forever.
Dutifully, Jourdian brushed his lips across the top of her cold fingers, then abruptly let her hand go. “Marianna, may I present my wife, Splendor.”
“Charmed,” Marianna purred. Her brown eyes slanted as she examined Splendor, and her anger heated as hot jealousy flared within her.
The girl Jourdian had married gave new meaning to the word beautiful. With skin as pale and flawless as a newly opened white rose, thickly lashed violet eyes that could bring a man to his knees, and luxurious auburn hair as mesmerizing as swaying flames, Splendor was undoubtedly the loveliest female at the ball. The girl shimmered with what was almost an unearthly radiance.
A Basket of Wishes Page 34