Salt Bride

by Lucinda Brant

  “In love? She isn’t in love with him!”

  “No, she isn’t in love with him,” Jane agreed.

  Sir Antony’s anger burst like a soap bubble. Totally deflated, he sat down, blinking. “She isn’t?”

  Jane wondered at the workings of the male mind. She did not have to wonder about Caroline’s thought processes. She reasoned the girl was young after all, and if anything like Jane’s stepmother, the only other female Allenby of Jane’s acquaintance, then she would have woken up this morning very proud of herself for the damage she had wrought the night before. She had gained her objectives. She had discovered the true nature of Sir Antony’s feelings for her and the Earl had flatly refused her engagement to Captain Beresford. Jane did not doubt the existence of the good Captain, or the fact that he might have designs on marrying an heiress, he may even have feelings for Caroline, but she doubted very much if he had asked her to marry him. And if he had, then he truly was a fortune hunter and Salt would deal with him very swiftly.

  “How do you know she isn’t in love with Beresford?” Sir Antony asked in wonderment. “You only met for the first time last night.” When Jane smiled and continued brushing her hair, he perched forward on the chaise longue and said hopefully, “She confided in you. She’s had second thoughts about the Captain.”

  “No. As you said, I only met her for the first time last evening. Naturally, Salt was furious and told her in no uncertain terms that he would not countenance a union with the Captain. Caroline took this in her stride and wasn’t to be dissuaded.”

  “As only she would! But if she isn’t in love with Beresford, why is she putting me through this-this torture?”

  So much for Sir Antony calmly telling her he would wait until Caroline had had her Season before declaring himself. Jane smiled to herself. Poor Tony, he had best take himself off to St. Petersburg, or ask Caroline to marry him immediately, or develop an armor-plated sensibility to see him through Caroline’s flirtatious Season amongst the young bloods and fortune hunters who would court her. She would surely flaunt each and every one of her suitors in his face, all to get his reaction. And if he did react then woe betide him ever gaining the upper hand in that union.

  “She is trying to force your hand, Tony,” Jane said simply. “And by informing Salt of the Captain’s intentions, she is ensuring that when you do get up the courage to ask Salt he will be heartily relieved that his sister is to have a husband that is acceptable to him, and not a social pariah. Of course, if Caroline was truly in love with the Captain I don’t think Salt would be too concerned about the man’s measly two thousand a year. Being generous and devoted to Caroline, he would provide them with a house and sundry other comforts that Caroline cannot live without, if she was to marry a war hero of modest income.”

  Sir Antony wasn’t so certain but he lost his mulish look. “You think?”

  “I think,” Jane said brightly. She turned away from the looking glass to face him. “Unfortunately, your angry reaction to her news means you’ve played into her hands.”

  “Scheming baggage!” Sir Antony grumbled good-naturedly. “I should’ve had my eyes open! But I was so happy to see her after all these months that it never occurred to me she would ill-use me in that way.” He grinned and shook his head. “Thinking about it, she’s had months to plan her campaign, hasn’t she? I suppose I ought to be flattered.”

  Jane laughed behind her hand. “Very flattered. And the situation is not unsalvageable. To my mind, you can do one of two things: If you are set on marrying Caroline, immediately declare yourself and hope that Salt will acquiesce, given Caroline hasn’t had her Season; or, if you are still uncertain about making a commitment until she’s had her Season, to satisfy yourself that she knows in her own mind that it is with you she wishes to spend the rest of her life, then you must coolly accept her plans to marry the Captain.”

  Sir Antony pouted. “Must I?”

  “Why, of course! On no account must you allow her to see that the Captain bothers you. My guess is, she will keep up the pretence of being in love with the Captain for as long as it takes for you to declare yourself, and if you do not break to her will, she’ll give some excuse why the Captain proved unsuitable and move on to another wholly unacceptable marriage proposal. All to wear you thin.”

  Sir Antony rubbed his unshaven chin and smiled ruefully. “I’m feeling rather thin now…”

  “You may have to accept a posting to Stockholm to distance yourself from her teasing,” Jane ended with an encouraging smile, Sir Antony looking as ill as she felt when she’d woken up. “Of course, if you do decide to run off to the Continent, you will have Salt on your conscience. The poor man will be left alone to deal with Caroline’s hordes of admirers.”

  “Oh, I shan’t feel guilty. Why should I when he has you? You’ll provide him with all the support he needs to get him through the whole unpleasant business of launching Caroline on an unsuspecting society.”

  Jane turned away, a blush to her cheeks, and searched for a silk ribbon amongst the clutter on her dressing table. Unable to find one, she fiddled unnecessarily with several jars, saying hesitantly, “He… He may have to cope without me… I-I may be indisposed…”

  “Egad! I’m an unthinking ass,” Sir Antony responded and dropped to his silken knees beside the dressing table at her feet. “Of course! The baby! Your confinement will be around the time the Season begins, won’t it? Diana told me,” he confessed when Jane’s blue eyes widened in surprise. “I have no idea how she found out, but she knows, and now so do I.” He smiled ruefully. “It’s not my place to ask, and you don’t have to answer me, but why, my dear, haven’t you shared this momentous news with Salt? He’ll be beside himself with joy to know he is to be a father.”

  Jane gazed at her hands clasped in her lap. “He doesn’t believe in miracles.”

  “Miracles?”

  “You may recall that ten years ago Salt had a rather nasty riding accident that left him bedridden and in a great deal of pain. The bruises and severe swelling to his—to a particular part of his—”

  “I remember,” Sir Antony cut in to save her any further embarrassment. “In fact, my eyes are watering in sympathy. Any man’s would.”

  Jane nodded, grateful for his interruption and continued.

  “You may also recall that the physicians who attended on him at that time advised that as a consequence of the-the injuries sustained, it was unlikely he would father a child.”

  “Did they? Bunch of charlatans! What would they know?” Sir Antony replied with an encouraging smile. “Well, obviously not much because they’ve been proved wrong. If I was Salt I’d have the wholly jolly lot of ’em struck off the medical register for being quacks and frauds. He could do it too, y’know.”

  This did force a laugh from her. “You make it sound so simple.”

  Impulsively, Sir Antony caught at one of her hands. “It is simple,” he said gently. “When two people are deeply in love, miracles can and do happen. And if he doesn’t believe that,” he added in a rallying tone, and at Jane’s watery smile kissed her hand, “then he doesn’t deserve you! He must have gruel for brains!”

  “Or no brain at all,” drawled the Earl.

  Jane snatched back her hand and shot up off the dressing stool, mortified. It was the way her husband was regarding her with a steady, unblinking gaze, a gaze that shifted momentarily to Sir Antony, who had over-balanced with shock and fallen back against the chaise longue, an arm stuck out to grope the silk cushions to keep himself upright.

  Jane wondered how long Salt had been leaning in the doorway and guessed he had just walked in on Sir Antony’s final undiplomatic pronouncement by his readily given quip. He had come from his apartments, having bathed, shaved and changed into a Chinoiserie frockcoat that matched the magnificence of his Richmond Ball dress. For all his outward appearance of the noble courtier, there was a dullness to his brown eyes as they continued to regard Jane steadily, and his gaunt, tired expression suggest
ed that what he needed was not another day of political machinations but a good night’s unbroken sleep.

  Jane finally stepped forward, worry about Ron outweighing any feelings of embarrassment she had at being caught in dishabille in her dressing room with her husband’s best friend. “How is Ron? Were you able to settle him?”

  “Salt!” Sir Antony suddenly blurted out in the silence.

  “Do get up, Tony,” the Earl responded flatly, coming further into the room as Sir Antony scrambled to his feet and set his wig to rights then stood to attention like a naughty schoolboy. He addressed his wife. “Ron was sleeping peacefully when I left him tucked up in bed just a little after sunrise. I promised that if he is very much better this afternoon, he and Merry can stay the night in the nursery. They are both looking forward to seeing Caro.”

  “What? Ron was ill again?” Sir Antony blurted out. “Egad! That’s two nights in a row! No wonder you look fagged to death.” He glanced from Salt to Jane and back again, all embarrassment at being caught trespassing in the most private of the Countess’s rooms extinguished with his concern for his nephew. “Salt, you really must put a stop to Diana’s nonsense, or I will. If you don’t believe what I told you in the carriage about your happiness and—”

  “I believe you.”

  “—Diana’s petty jealous anger and Ron’s illness—Oh! You do?”

  “Yes. I merely had to have the blindfold removed to see what’s been going on, for which I thank you… and my wife.”

  Jane touched the Earl’s embroidered upturned cuff. “You have taken the matter in hand?”

  “Yes,” he responded but said no more because he was not to be diverted from his displeasure at Sir Antony’s trespass. His gaze flickered from his wife’s state of undress to the broken dish and saucer by the chaise longue and then fixed on his best friend. That he chose to deliver Sir Antony a short, sharp dressing down in the French tongue signaled to Jane that he was not only furious but had no wish to sully her ears with his derogatory vitriol. The contrition on Sir Antony’s face confirmed her suspicions.

  “You have the damned idiocy, no, ill-mannered selfishness, to invade these private rooms unshaven and still in your ball costume and I am no longer left wondering why the latest filth circulating drawing rooms has it that you are tupping my wife?”

  “Salt, I—”

  The Earl raised an imperious hand. “Je ne veux pas vous écouter.”

  “But—Parbleu! You must listen to what I have to say! It isn’t what you think! I was only—”

  “You are not privy to my thoughts. Partez!”

  Sir Antony bravely drew himself up and looked the Earl between the eyes. It was an unnerving and unpleasant experience for a young man who worshipped his mentor. He openly eyeballed him nonetheless. “The reason I came uninvited and unwanted here is because I needed—”

  “Your needs are supremely unimportant to me at this moment,” Salt interrupted, and continued in English, a glance at Jane to see if she was attending. “If you think I don’t know you got yourself pickled last night all because of Caro’s absurd announcement and, feeling sorry for yourself, came here seeking my wife’s sympathy for your pathetic behavior, then it is you who have gruel for brains. You will go to Arlington Street, get yourself together, change into something befitting a man who has aspirations to strut the diplomatic stage in St. Petersburg, and be back here in my bookroom within the hour to meet with Count Vorontsov. His Excellency has condescendingly permitted you an hour of his precious time. Now get out and allow me a moment’s peace with her ladyship.”

  “He really was in a dreadful state of anxiety,” Jane said in defense of Sir Antony when left alone with the Earl.

  “That’s no excuse for his ungentlemanly conduct,” he said, a pointed stare at her free-flowing hair, brown-eyed gaze dipping to her breasts and fixing on her bare toes. His eyes came back up to her flushed face. “When I am not here, her ladyship’s maid should be with her at all times. I had presumed Willis had given the Countess the lecture on what rooms of her apartments are public and those that are strictly private, off-limits to everyone except her husband. I won’t have my wife the subject of servant gossip.”

  “And what about me, my lord?” Jane asked, chin up.

  Salt frowned. “I am talking about you.”

  “No. You are talking at me, as if I am someone quite removed from this poor creature that is gossiped about by servants. Although… I don’t know what the servants could possibly find to gossip about the Countess of Salt Hendon that would outshine the Earl’s performance last night. He makes love to his wife in his carriage, carries her indoors, both of them practically naked, and in full view of his lordship’s butler, under-butler and a handful of footmen. Not to mention being caught out in this morally depraved state of undress by a young lady yet to make her come out. No, I fail to see what the servants could possibly find to gossip about her, when his lordship has provided a surfeit of servant gossip about them both.”

  This forced a tired laugh from him and he drew her into his embrace and kissed her forehead.

  “Touché, my lady. I can always rely on you to bring the planets back into alignment. But I’m still annoyed at Tony,” he added seriously. “I may consider him family, but only I am permitted the arousing sight of you in undress with your hair down your back.”

  Jane blushed and dropped her chin. “Is that what you said to him in French?” she asked shyly. “Poor Tony was in such a state over Caroline’s teasing pronouncement that she is engaged to Captain Beresford.”

  He sighed his annoyance and took Sir Antony’s place on the chaise longue, avoiding the broken tea dish and saucer, and drew Jane to sit beside him. “I really do wonder at Tony’s ability to withstand the rigors of diplomatic life abroad if he can’t put two coherent sentences together in my company when I’m displeased with him. I’m told he’s a very competent and astute politician, and I do trust his judgment, but…”

  “It’s that pedestal,” she replied, snuggling up to him. “You need to let him see that you can climb down off it from time to time. When you’re displeased you could intimidate the Sun King. And your nostrils quivered.”

  “Did they?” Salt laughed with genuine good humor. “Poor Tony. But if he thinks, after all these years, I don’t know he is wig over toes in love with Caro, then he truly does have gruel between his ears!”

  “What are you going to do about it?”

  Salt smiled slyly and stifled a yawn. “What any good parent worth his coin would do. Let him sweat it out for as long as it takes him to get up the courage to approach me. Besides, I want Caro to have a Season and receive at least a dozen inappropriate marriage proposals before she settles on Tony.”

  “How cruel, but how utterly fatherly of you!”

  He looked down at her hand in his and played with her fingers, saying quietly, “You have a hundred questions for me about Caro, don’t you?”

  A hundred questions Jane certainly had. But there was only one question concerning the Lady Caroline Sinclair that was uppermost in her mind. As always she took the direct approach.

  “Whose child is she, Magnus?”

  Jane’s question elicited an embarrassed laugh, but the Earl was not smiling.

  “As always, Lady Salt, you are woefully frank.”

  “There is no other way of asking, is there?”

  “God help me when Caro has her come out,” he responded, continuing to avoid the question. “I’m dreading that day’s arrival. She’ll have ten suitors on her hook by the end of the first week.”

  “Your apprehension is only natural. Any parent of a girl of marriageable age must feel the same way,” she answered matter-of-factly, ignoring his equivocation for the time being. “Parents want their daughters to travel down the right path to matrimony, to find an eligible gentleman of the same social standing. But such eligibility does not necessarily mean a happy marriage, does it? Those parents who truly care for their daughter’s happiness give equal wei
ght to the suitability of the husband, as well as to his eligibility, don’t they?”

  “Yes. I want Caro to make a suitable match, but equally I want her to be happy,” he answered quietly, still playing with her fingers. He looked into her eyes. “Not an aspiration your father had for you, was it?”

  Jane smiled ruefully, face hot with embarrassment for a father for whom she had been a sad disappointment.

  “True. My personal happiness was never a consideration for Sir Felix. But in those few moments I spent in your sister’s company, it is evident your relationship with Caroline is very different from the one I had with my father,” she continued, determined not to be diverted from her original question. “I would never have dared call my father glum chops in that playful way, in any way. Nor would he have responded by chasing me up the stairs in an equally playful manner.” Her brow furrowed. “I don’t understand why I see the resemblance between Caroline and the Allenbys when others do not, but perhaps it is because I have lived amongst them for most of my life. Caroline and my stepmother could be mistaken for mother and daughter.”

  Salt let go of her hand. “Caro is nothing like Rachel!”

  Jane smiled.

  “Now who needs spectacles of comprehension, my lord? I was not referring to my stepmother’s lax morals or her need to have her beauty constantly praised. You may think me quite depraved for thinking so, but it is my belief that had my father not been a-a drunk and been more attentive to his wife’s needs… For all her vanity and silliness, my stepmother did love my father…” She paused and swallowed and bravely went on under his unblinking gaze. “If he’d paid more attention to her in the bedchamber I doubt she’d have gone elsewhere.”

  “My dear Lady Salt,” the Earl said with mock indignation. “You shock me. When did you reach this most startling conclusion?”

  Jane lowered her gaze. “Since our wedding night,” she confessed. “I enjoy making love with you because you have made it enjoyable for me.” She smiled up at him from under her long lashes, saying demurely, “You know full well you have thoroughly ruined me, my lord.”