"I am so happy for you, Lady Brayleigh," she gushed. "And to think that I was one of the first to know! Only fancy how the two of you were so in love that you were unable to hide your feelings! I declare I was never more surprised in my life than I was at the masquerade when you were found in Brayleigh’s arms!"
Rowena frowned. She had no desire to be reminded of the circumstances leading to her marriage. The only consolation she could get from the whole mess was the knowledge that Marguerite’s plan to ruin her reputation had been thwarted.
"Thank you, Mrs. Macomber," she said repressively.
Marguerite looked around the room, her curious eyes taking in the various elegant visitors present.
"But where is Brayleigh?" she asked artlessly. "Don’t tell me the bridegroom is absent today?"
Rowena cringed at her words. Although she was certain that her visitors had noted Alaric’s absence, no one had been tactless enough to ask after him.
"Brayleigh is meeting with his man of business," said Lady Belmont, much to her niece’s surprise and relief. "Something urgent seems to have come up, but as I told Rowena, if they had only gone out of town for a honeymoon this would not have happened. Emergencies seem to be much less important, somehow, when one is out of reach. I think it a great pity that there is to be no wedding trip, but dear Rowena insisted on staying in town because she knows my health is not good. I am very lucky to have such a thoughtful niece."
The older ladies in the room nodded approvingly, and Lady Bingham’s color heightened slightly. She had not paid this visit in order to make the new Countess of Brayleigh look good.
"How thoughtful of you, my dear," she said lightly. "And of course it was very clever of you to realize that Brayleigh would not wish to have his life interrupted. You are the best of wives, allowing your husband to visit Mrs. Blackmore’s gaming house on your wedding night. I would surely have thrown a fit if my bridegroom had chosen to do such a thing, but doubtless you know the best way to handle your husband."
A silence fell over the room after this remarkable statement. Rowena was uncomfortably aware of being the focus of every eye in the room. She fought to keep her countenance blank as a series of emotions raced through her.
The first was blind fury at Lady Bingham for her malicious comment. If she had ever doubted Alaric’s word before that his former mistress was attempting to cause her trouble, she had confirmation of it now. The second was anger with Alaric. How dare he go somewhere so public, and so shocking, on their wedding night? Mrs. Blackmore’s, while never discussed among the ladies of the ton, was well known to them as a den of vice, presided over by a woman who, though she claimed to be of good birth, was not welcome in any respectable drawing room.
Finally, however, and threatening to overwhelm anything else she might be feeling, was a great sense of relief. If Alaric had been at Mrs. Blackmore’s the previous evening, then he had not been with Lily. No matter how he had chosen to disport himself, at least it had not been with another woman. For some reason this made Rowena feel much happier. The cloud that had been hovering over her dispelled slightly.
She turned towards Lady Bingham, a tart rejoinder on her lips, but she was interrupted by a deep voice.
"It is very kind of you, Lady Bingham, to be so interested in our affairs. But I believe we can manage without your interference."
Every eye in the room swung to the doorway, where Alaric stood, an amused look on his face. He was dressed very elegantly, his coat of dark blue molded to his broad shoulders, his hessians gleaming like mirrors against his well-fitting biscuit breeches. Rowena searched in vain for some sign of the pallor she had seen earlier. Alaric looked to be healthy and very well pleased with himself. He walked slowly into the room and came to stand behind Rowena’s chair, his hands resting lightly on her shoulders. Rowena trembled slightly at the feel of his warm hands on her bare skin and she noticed that his fingers tightened almost imperceptibly.
Lady Bingham flushed. "I meant nothing by it, my lord," she said hastily. "I intended only to compliment Lady Brayleigh on her understanding."
"My wife does have superior understanding," agreed Alaric. "However, in this case, she was indulging both my cousin and myself. I was with Charles last night because he had received some distressing news. He was quite desolate, and Lady Brayleigh urged me to keep an eye on him so that he would do nothing foolish."
"Poor dear Charles, so impulsive," Lady Belmont interjected rather vaguely.
"How good you are," said Marguerite to Rowena, her vexation at the unexpected turn of events apparent in the sharpness in her voice. "I would not have so much patience, I fear."
"Her patience was amply rewarded upon my return," murmured Alaric. "I do not think either of us suffered for the postponement."
Rowena flushed crimson at his words. The dowagers in the room smiled at her kindly, thinking it a sign of maidenly modesty.
"How sweet," Marguerite said acidly. "I am sure your devotion to each other is a lesson to us all. And your care for your cousin is quite overwhelming, Alaric. I do not remember you being so very concerned for him in the past."
"I am older now, and considerably wiser," said Alaric. "My ideas of what I want out of life are much more developed. I often regret the folly of my misspent youth."
"Then I am sure I hope you get what you deserve," said Lady Bingham. She stood up hastily. "I must be on my way."
"What a pity," said Alaric.
"Thank you for your good wishes," added Rowena stiffly as Mrs. Macomber and Lord Voxley accompanied Marguerite from the room. Her mind was only partially on her visitors; where Alaric’s fingers rested on her skin she felt as though he had left small trails of fire. Although she was relieved he had arrived and rescued her from an uncomfortable situation, she felt a certain amount of resentment that he had handled it so easily. The situation, which had seemed so fraught with social peril before his entrance, had simply fizzled away when confronted with his impenetrable calm.
Alaric smiled down into her troubled face and then seated himself next to her. For the next hour he exerted himself to be charming to their visitors, and Rowena watched in growing amazement as he listened with sympathy to her aunt’s complaints about her health and commiserated with Mrs. Barton on the sadly wild nature of her son. Looking at him one would not think for a moment that he had been out drinking and gambling all night or that he had been confined to his bed only two hours before. He was so very handsome and self-assured. Something about his calm made Rowena’s mood increasingly agitated.
Eventually she noticed that Alaric was subtly urging their guests to leave, and in a remarkably short period of time she was alone with her husband. He smiled at her warmly, an action which perversely made her more annoyed with him than ever.
"I am sorry for Marguerite’s behavior," he said disarmingly. "We seem destined to stumble from near scandal to near scandal, do we not?"
"If we do, it is certainly not my fault." Rowena gave him a severe look. "I have no disreputable past to contend with."
"No, but as my wife you must contend with mine. I am sorry if it causes you pain." Alaric’s voice was quiet and sincere.
"You give yourself too much credit, my lord. I have no reason to be concerned with your actions."
"On the contrary, you have every reason to be annoyed with me. I have had some time to reflect on our situation, and I find that I am sadly at fault. It was wrong of me to rush you into marriage, no matter how right I knew it to be for us both. I should have been more patient. Can you forgive me, Rowena?"
Alaric took her hand gently in his as he spoke and she glanced down at their clasped hands, her fingers very fragile and white against his hand.
"It is not so simple a matter, my lord," she said in a small voice. She realized that if she turned down his request she would appear to be stubborn, but her concerns could not be resolved so easily.
"My apology is not enough?" Alaric’s voice was gently teasing. "What would you have me do, Rowena
? Is there some way I can prove my worth to you?"
"It is a matter of trust, my lord," she said.
"You don’t feel you can trust me. I suppose I can see how that might have happened. I tricked you into marriage, and then I left you alone on your wedding night with only the servants for company. I returned quite drunk and then ordered you out of my bedroom. The next morning I was ill and when I did arise I found my former mistress in the drawing room, insulting you. Perhaps your complaints are justified."
Rowena gave him a sideways glance. His tone was even, and he certainly seemed to understand her reservations about their marriage.
"Exactly, my lord. I am not at all comfortable with our situation."
"What can I do to relieve your anxiety? Believe me, Rowena, I’m anxious that this union be a happy one for both of us."
As he spoke, Alaric raised his other hand to her chin and gently turned her face towards his. He leaned forward, his green eyes gazing into hers with a serious expression, his mouth hovering only inches from her own. Rowena blinked rapidly.
"You can honor my request that we spend some time getting to know one another," she murmured, tearing her eyes away from his intent gaze. When he looked at her in that way, she was almost unable to think straight.
Alaric groaned inwardly. He had hoped that his apology might melt Rowena’s heart, and he had some inkling that it had not been totally ineffective. But his bride had her pride, and she was apparently unwilling to give in without a fight. He felt his body clench as he thought of waiting even one more night for her.
"Very well, we shall spend more time together," he promised. "First I shall take you for a drive in the Park, to reassure the populace in the event that Marguerite attempts to spread more rumors. Then we shall return here for a quiet dinner together."
Rowena looked up at him, alarm tingeing her expression. "Just the two of us?" she asked. Despite what she had just said, the thought of being alone with Alaric was disturbing. Even now she felt the pull of attraction to the man.
Alaric laughed softly. "It would be very odd of us to have guests to dinner the day after our wedding. And I thought you wished to know me better. That would be hard to do in a room full of people."
"Yes, but..." Rowena’s voice trailed off. She could hardly argue with him when he was giving her exactly what she had asked for.
Alaric smiled at the nonplussed look on her face. "Go and change into a driving dress. While I wait, I will write a note to Charles, telling him he received distressing news yesterday."
That made Rowena smile. "What sort of news was it?"
"Oh, I will leave that up to Charles. Perhaps the death of an old friend...or, more likely, he lost a great deal of money on a horse."
Rowena gave a little gurgle of laughter. "Will he humor you, do you think?"
"Oh, yes. Charles is the best of fellows. He will doubtless think this a great joke."
"Does he know why we quarreled yesterday?" asked Rowena in a small voice.
Alaric patted her hand. "Of course not. He immediately presumed it was my arrogance that had caused us to fall out and accused me of being a poor husband. And he was quite right. But I mean to be a much better one, starting now. Hurry and change, my dear. I wish to show all of London my beautiful bride."
Rowena walked slowly out of the room. Alaric gazed after her for moment, and then moved to the desk, pulling a piece of a paper and a pen toward himself. He picked up the pen and held it over the paper, but he did not immediately begin to write. It had been a long time since he had indulged anyone in the way he was indulging Rowena. He was used to his orders being obeyed and his desires immediately met. What was it about her that made him give way, to try to appease her rather than force her to give in to his will?
He shrugged the thought away. She was his wife, and he wanted her. That was understandable. He would not have married a woman he did not desire. And she was young and innocent. He could hardly force himself on her without causing tears and upset. Soon she would come to understand that he knew what was best for her, and then all these tantrums would cease. As always when he sought something, it took some small amount of time and effort before all was well. Soon enough Rowena would be a contented wife. He smiled gently and began to write.
Chapter 18
Rowena gazed at her husband across the candlelit dining table. As always, she was struck by his attractiveness, which was heightened by his dark evening wear, his black hair shining like silk in the golden glow of the candles, his green eyes glittering. A single emerald shone in his cravat, bright against the white cloth. He was almost mesmerizing she thought, dark and faintly dangerous looking. She watched as he reached for his wineglass and she could see the controlled power in his hand. For an instant she remembered the feeling of his palms on her shoulders that morning and a wave of heat washed over her.
She raised another mouthful of syllabub to her lips and tried to dismiss the errant thought. Alaric had been very thoughtful and kind to her all afternoon, complimenting her on her appearance when she had come down for their drive, making her laugh in the Park by his amusing commentary on the stares cast at him by the curious ton, and meeting her at her bedroom door, escorting her down to the dining room, his eyes full of admiration. The dinner had been intimate, with only a very few servants waiting on them. Alaric had tended to her every desire, his concern evident. The whole experience had been both gratifying and terrifying. She could feel Alaric concentrating his energy and complete attention on her, and she feared her own reaction to his intense charm. She had the sense that if he touched her she would go up in flames like so much dry kindling.
Alaric raised his eyes from contemplation of the golden liquid in his glass and looked at Rowena. He smiled gently. She looked like a queen he thought absently, her back very straight, her head with its halo of curls held high. Her expression was difficult to read, but he thought that she was softening, that his attentions were achieving their intended objective. There was a tension about her, a wariness to the way she held herself that told him she was not immune to his presence. Perhaps he would achieve his aim tonight, if he were very careful. If not tonight, tomorrow. He could not wait any longer than that, he thought, his fingers tightening on the stem of the glass. It would be far too difficult.
"More wine, Rowena?" he asked softly.
Rowena jumped and looked at him guiltily. She had been concentrating on his appearance, and had lost track of the conversation.
"No, my lord," she said softly. "Thank you." She hesitated. "Perhaps I should retire to the drawing room now."
"And leave me to my port?" asked Alaric lazily. "No, thank you. I have no wish to be separated from you this evening. I would far rather accompany you."
Rowena swallowed. As little as she wished to sit in the drawing room in solitary splendor, she was uncomfortable with the thought of what might come next. How did a husband and wife amuse themselves in the evenings? They could not possibly go out, as that would cause far too much comment, particularly after Alaric’s adventures the night before. But sitting alone with Alaric, watching his powerful body, aware that she herself had put restrictions upon what could happen between them, would be too difficult a way to pass the evening.
Alaric had risen and walked around the table, and now he stood next to her chair and offered her his hand. Rowena looked up at him with curiosity touched with alarm.
"I have a surprise for you, my dear. Come with me."
Rowena took his hand, and stood, but resisted slightly when he tried to lead her from the room.
"Where are you taking me?" she asked.
"Nowhere dangerous, I promise you," he said, his voice amused. "You must really begin to trust me a little, my dear."
"I’m not frightened." Her voice was indignant.
"Of course you aren’t. I didn’t mean to cast aspersions on your bravery. But our destination will not be a surprise if I tell you now."
Rowena looked up and saw that Alaric’s eyes were full
of laughter. She set her chin firmly. She would not allow him to think she was a coward.
"Very well," she said. "Must I close my eyes?"
"That will not be necessary." Alaric took her hand and placed it on his arm. He led her out of the dining room and towards the elegantly proportioned staircase that soared to the upper floors of the house.
Rowena’s followed him with faltering steps. What if he led her to his bedroom? Would she have the courage to turn him away again? Her pride told her that he should pay a higher price for the insults he had dealt her the night before, but he had been so kind today that she had already almost forgotten them. She peeked up at him from the corner of her eye, her long fair lashes shielding her gaze. He looked very confident and serene, a gentle smile curling his lips.
He looked down and caught her watching him. "Ready?" he asked.
Rowena nodded. He led her to the stairs and began ascending them, his tread measured and slow. She became acutely aware of everything around her, of the silence of the house, the gentle rustle of her silk dress as it whispered against her legs, the warmth of Alaric’s arm through the cloth of his jacket. She wondered nervously where the servants were. They had all disappeared as if by magic when dinner was over.
When they reached the top of the stairs Alaric turned away from their bedrooms and led her down a large hall, carpeted so thickly that Rowena could not hear their footsteps. She had the oddest sensation that they were all alone in the world, that everything has ceased to exist except her and the man she stood next to. She swallowed nervously. If he was not taking her to his bedroom, where were they going?
Alaric came to a halt before a large door, made of sturdy dark wood and secured with an ornate lock. He drew a key from his coat pocket and fitted it, turning it slowly. The door swung open with a gentle creak, and Alaric stepped back, motioning to Rowena to enter. She paused, her hand tightening on his arm.
"What room is this?" she asked suddenly, her voice breathless.
A Collector's Item: Rowena's After Dark Regency Romance (The Arlingbys Book 1) Page 16