A Ring of Midnight Orchids: Flowers of the Aristocracy (Untamed Regency Book 3)

by Jackie Williams

  Lucas remained silent for a long moment before hissing between his teeth. Was he imagining this confession in some kind of dream? He glanced at Pierce’s agonized features. Not his imagination playing drunken tricks on him then.

  “Why didn’t you tell me? I wouldn’t have stood in your way. Daisy always...” Still feeling lightheaded from the brandy and the two wallops on his jaw, he stopped before he said something he shouldn’t.

  But Pierce hadn’t missed the hesitation. He looked across at his friend.

  “Daisy always what?”

  Lucas sighed.

  “Nothing. I was simply going to say that she was always so much fun to be with. She’s still fun. If it’s any consolation, I think she’s happy with Robert.”

  Pierce nodded sorrowfully.

  “It is what I pray for every day. I cannot bear to think that she might be miserable with him.”

  Lucas placed his hand on Pierce’s shoulder.

  “You should have said something sooner. I would never have encouraged the match with Portland if I had known you had feelings for her.”

  Pierce straightened his shoulders and huffed out a breath.

  “Well, no point in discussing what one should or shouldn’t have done. It’s too late now. But it’s not too late to save my legs. All we need is an annulment, then I can marry Angelique. Problem solved.” He stood up to face the woman he needed to marry, but only a sudden gasp and running footsteps greeted him. There was a loud click followed by a heavy slam, as the chapel door opened and closed behind a waft of apple green.

  Chapter Eleven

  On the Scent of Midnight Orchids

  “There must be something you can do.” Angelique implored Mr. Roberts.

  The vicar reached over the arm of the chair and patted her hand reassuringly.

  “Now, now my dear Lady Caruthers, I realize that you might be nervous, and that a woman’s first time can be difficult, but I am sure his Lordship means well and will take care of you. You have no reason to fear. I understand that your mother does not live close, but there must be another woman with whom you can talk. I am sure my own wife would be willing...” He dabbed his forehead nervously, hoping the awkward conversation would be over quickly. It was really too much at this time of day. He needed to close his eyes and recover from the rigours of such a hectic morning.

  Angelique stood up and stared out of the vicarage window, immediately wishing she hadn’t as she noticed Perrydale’s distant rooftops gracing the sky over the edge of the forest. She turned back to the vicar.

  “I am not talking about what happens in the marriage bed, Mr. Roberts. I am well aware of how it all works, though not through any experiences of my own, of course. I have many married friends. One cannot help hearing things when those friends are prone to gossip, regardless of whom is about.” She dropped her gaze in a show of modesty as she noticed Mr. Robert’s scandalized brow. Gathering her courage once again, she continued. “No, I am asking you about the actual marriage. It was a mistake. I was not meant to be married to Lord Caruthers at all. Unfortunately, in the confusion, everything seems to have become mixed up.” She wrung her hands together, praying that the vicar was now sober enough to see sense.

  Roberts pressed his lips together and rose to walk to his desk. He unfolded the marriage licence and the record sheets and looked down, his fingertip running over the myriad of ink spatters. He glanced up at his visitor.

  “Confusion. I think not. This licence is most definitely signed by the Archbishop.” He pointed at a particular spot. “And Lord Caruthers has signed his name as the groom. Lord Trenchard’s signature is in the space as groomsman. I am the residing parish vicar who conducted the service, and you are the named bride. Even the witnesses have signed. Everything is all in perfect order, if a little untidy. And you said your vows before God and the witnesses. I am sure his Lordship’s butler and housekeep wouldn’t like their word called into question. There can be no changing anything without good reason for an annulment.”

  Angelique closed her eyes briefly and prayed for patience.

  “Those were not vows. I didn’t even know that there was to be a wedding today. You were all so drunk that you could barely stand and I had no clue as to what was going on until it was too late.”

  The vicar appeared affronted as he looked her up and down, taking in the pretty apple green and lace gown. His eyes stopped at her hand.

  “Drunk? Not at all, madam. I deny such a scandalous accusation! A little communion wine to ease a sore throat, that was all.” He coughed into his hand before continuing. “But you are in your bridal finery. And you are wearing the Caruthers signet ring. It was left to Lord Lucas on the death of his grandfather. I knew the old gentleman well and would swear on oath that this is the same ring.”

  Angelique twisted the ring around to her palm and squeezed her fingers tightly while wondering why she hadn’t taken the incriminating article off. The sapphires felt as if they were about to burn holes through her skin.

  “Yes, I understand that, and I believe this is Lucas’ ring, but there was a misunderstanding.” Her heart fluttered wildly as she said the words and she blinked rapidly to hold back the tears of regret. If only there had been no mistake. Her thoughts drifted back to the scene in the chapel and his words rang in her ears.

  ‘Do you think I meant for this to happen? Do you think I meant to marry her? I am only just getting over Sophia.’

  Sophia! Another woman. Even if she was now Brendon Spencer’s wife. Angelique’s heart turned to stone beneath her heaving breast. It was only the vicar’s next words that gave it life again.

  “And was kissing Lord Caruthers a mistake too? I thought I was dreaming at first, but I was coming awake and had opened my eyes once or twice before Lord Caruthers and Lord Trenchard began their altercation. His lordship appeared to be taking full advantage of my words, ‘you may now kiss the bride’.”

  The kiss was the last thing Angelique wanted to remember, but at least it warmed her heart again. She could still taste the sultry flavour of brandy on her lips, feel the shape of his mouth as it covered hers. Her skin began to flush, a rosy bloom rising across her far too revealing décolletage.

  She pulled her wrap more tightly around herself, covering her embarrassment.

  “I see that I will have to take my case to the Archbishop. I believe an annulment can be gained due to non consummation of relations.” She could hardly believe her own boldness, and it was clear that the vicar couldn’t either.

  He stood up sharply.

  “Well, I am not sure how you are going to prove that considering that you were seen being carried to your room in the Red Lion inn by none other than his Lordship. And it is common knowledge that you have spent the last several days at Perrydale without the benefit of a proper chaperone. If Lord Lucas hadn’t announced his intentions, I would have been forced to pay him a visit to demand answers.” He nodded at her startled expression. “Yes, my duties cover a large area and with Lord Caruthers being such an infrequent visitor, when he does arrive, the news carries fast. I am afraid that you will not gain an annulment on those grounds, my dear.”

  Humiliation filled her. The tears dripped at last.

  “But I have done nothing wrong. My maid has been with me the whole time. But regardless of that, Lucas does not love me. This has been forced on him as much as on me,” she cried hopelessly, choking on her words.

  Roberts took his own handkerchief from his pocket and passed it to her.

  “Many marriages start out with less than you have with his Lordship. You have no reason to worry. He is a fine young man, well thought of in the area. He has much going for him. A young woman like you shouldn’t have too much trouble curbing his bachelor ways, I am sure.”

  Angelique saw the futility in her visit at last. Nothing would move this stubborn man. She handed the handkerchief back and turned towards the door.

  “If you cannot help me, I must find another way to gain my release. I will see
myself out.” She closed the study door behind her.

  Lucas stood with his back to the wall, breathing deeply from his frantic ride.

  After making sure that Pierce had taken to his rooms, Lucas had gone to find Angelique. Perhaps he hadn’t drunk as much of the brandy as his friend, or maybe the thought of marriage had sobered him more quickly, but he needed to talk to Angelique as soon as possible.

  His boot heels echoing through the hallways disquieted him. He had expected angry shouting, or unhappy crying at the very least, but when he arrived at her bedroom door, only a perplexed and yawning Mary poked her head out.

  “Beg your pardon, my Lord. I was taking advantage of my mistress’ trip and resting my weary bones. Are you returned from the hunting lodge so soon? Is Miss Angelique downstairs?” The woman peered around his shoulder.

  “I could not find her downstairs and presumed she was up here with you. It was a more difficult outing than I expected and only thought to enquire after Miss Lancer’s wellbeing.” There was no way that he was going to explain the circumstances of his arrival at her door.

  Mary stopped yawning instantly.

  “Is there any reason to think that your trip affected her wellbeing?” Accusatory eyes searched his.

  Lucas began backing away from the older woman. She was too astute by half.

  “No, not at all,” he lied. “I must have missed her downstairs, that is all. Probably in the library taking a cup of tea, or glass of lemonade while she peruses one story or another. It is cool in there this time of the afternoon.”

  Mary nodded.

  “Yes, most likely. She’s not had her head in a book for a while. I expect that is where she has escaped to. I’ll come down and check that there is nothing she needs.” The woman began to bustle out of the door.

  Lucas held up his hands.

  “No, no. Please do not disturb yourself. Go back to your leisure. I am sure we can manage. Both Henry and Mrs. Granger are about. I’ll ask them for assistance if we need anything. I’ll send one of them to you if Miss Lancer requires anything in particular.” He gave a short bow and turned, almost running down the hallway as soon as he heard the bedroom door close behind him.

  A quick discussion with a most put out Mrs. Granger, who waited to give her congratulations along with the other staff, informed him that Angelique hadn’t yet returned from the chapel, but that she was quite able to make the arrangements herself.

  Lucas couldn’t think what arrangements Mrs. Granger was talking about. He had to find his wife. His wife! He couldn’t hold back the grin lighting his face, but his senses soon came back to him. Hell! Where would she have gone? As she hadn’t returned to fetch her maid or any clothes, there was only one answer. The vicarage. Probably to ask for an annulment. It would be what he would do if he had found himself in her position. But he wasn’t going to let her escape him that easily.

  Dashing around to the stables, he threw a saddle and himself on Blaze, and galloped down the driveway. The route through the forest would be quicker, but he was still feeling foggy headed from the brandy. One wrong step on rough ground might lame his horse, or worse. Frantic as he was, he wasn’t about to let that happen. He reached the gate and gave Blaze his head, racing along the road to the village.

  Now, hiding in the deep shadows of the vicarage’s staircase. The scent of midnight orchids enveloped him as she passed with a sobbing breath and a swoosh of delicate silk skirts. Dear Lord, how had it all gone so wrong? Damn the brandy, damn Pierce, damn the Peckham Pulveriser! And damn himself for being such a fool!

  There was no point in hanging around to see Roberts any longer. Lucas had overheard every word he had said. Drunk as the man had been, he had stood his ground. There was not going to be any annulment. Not that Lucas wanted one, but the sound of her crying had nearly undone him.

  Was he that bad a catch? So, his nose was no longer straight, and his profession might not be the most sound, but he had money and prospects. He was titled, owned land, and had at one time, before the broken nose, been generally agreed upon as handsome. Had she preferred Pierce after all?

  Thinking of his friend, now sleeping off his brandy induced confession, had Lucas’ insides squirming with guilt. Why hadn’t the man shown his true feelings? What had induced him to hold back for all those years? Was it some kind of code of conduct that he stupidly adhered to? Loyalty amongst friends and don’t dare look at anyone’s sister. Well, that had obviously worked, he almost scoffed aloud as he thought of other friends he had known all his life. Algernon and Felicity, and Brendon and Sophia were all now happily married and living in apparent wedded bliss.

  So stupid, yet so typical of Pierce to stick to a ridiculous code of honour. The man might have his faults but disloyalty wasn’t one of them. They had all been friends for so long, inevitable that they would like one another, but Lucas had dismissed Daisy’s own admission as silly, putting her tears and wringing hands down to far too much champagne at her own coming out ball, rather than unreciprocated feelings towards Lord Pierce Trenchard.

  But what if she had been telling the truth? What if all his sister’s outpouring of feelings for a man who never once showed her anymore than friendship, had been returned. And it clearly had been if Pierce’s words of that afternoon were to be believed.

  Which they were. No man would throw his heart wide open to scorn on such a pitiful whim unless he was hurting like hell inside. It was no wonder the man had avoided any event where Daisy or her illustrious husband might be present, for the past several years.

  Damn it all! Lucas ground his teeth in frustration. How could he have been so wrong? But there was nothing to be done now. Daisy was married and apparently very happy.

  And Pierce was in trouble, deep trouble that he might not be able to extricate himself from, especially as he, Lucas Caruthers was now married to Pierce’s intended. A beautiful woman who drove Lucas to distraction, but clearly didn’t want a thing to do with him, as evidenced by her tears as she ran from the vicarage.

  He leaned his head back into the panelling until he was sure she was heading back outside. It was fortunate that Roberts had his study at the opposite end of the vicarage to his stables. Neither the vicar or Angelique would have heard Lucas’ arrival as he walked Blaze past his own carriage and around to the mews at the rear.

  Now he came out of his hiding place and stole away from the vicarage in time to see his carriage disappearing down the drive. He had seen it standing at the entrance, even nodded at his driver, but guessing the reason for her visit, and seeing the vicarage door wide open to take advantage of the afternoon breeze, he had not announced his own arrival. Instead, he had sneaked into the hallway to listen to her arguments for annulling their marriage.

  The strangest feeling of relief had swept over him at every one of Roberts’ refusals. So what if she didn’t love him. So what if she didn’t care for his figure or crooked nose. Given time and a lot of hard work, he might win her over. It would be worth it. She stirred his soul in ways he hadn’t thought possible.

  All he needed to do now was to settle the problem of her less than amenable brother, and he would have room to breathe, have time to come to know her, have her come to know him. The way he felt about her, just having her sitting in his library reading each evening would be enough. He smiled at the thought of her leafing through the books. It was about time some of them were dusted down and perused. And if she was safely ensconced exploring his famous library, at least he would have time to ride to London and sort out the Pierce’s problem with the Peckham Pulveriser.

  Feeling as though he had some kind of plan in action, he shook off the last of his alcohol-induced haze and, taking the cooler route back, rode slowly back through the forest towards Perrydale.

  Chapter Twelve

  Missing Guests

  “What do you mean, ‘he’s left’?” Lucas stared open mouthed over the dinner table at Henry. “He was snoring his head off only a couple of hours ago.” It was bad enough th
at his wife refused to come down for dinner, but to have his friend disappear too was almost insulting.

  Henry served the single bowl of vegetable soup, the soup ladle clanking loudly in the quiet room. He placed the urn back on the buffet and brought a basket of bread rolls back to the long table.

  “An urgent letter addressed to Lord Trenchard arrived after you went out again, my Lord. Naturally, I took it to him immediately and woke him. He insisted on leaving that very moment. I did advise him that due to the excesses of brandy, an overnight stay might benefit him greatly, but he seemed to be in some rush. Rambled on about not mucking things up again and doing something while his legs were still attached to his body. Couldn’t fathom what he meant, but he refused all my advice and remained determined to leave.”