Adriana enjoyed herself very much, finding time to enjoy mild flirtations with Mr. Dawlish and Mr. Bennett, indeed with nearly every gentleman present, except of course Claude Ringwell, Sophie’s foppish brother, whose fulsome compliments engendered no more response in her than a strong itch to slap him.
When the tea trays were brought in at half-past ten and the servants began to clear the game table where she had been attempting for some time, unsuccessfully, to recover a mythical fortune lost at Commerce, Adriana got up to stretch her legs. Making her way toward a window embrasure, she encountered Mr. Braverstoke and in the course of a brief exchange of pleasantries reminded him of his promise to take her out on his yacht.
“It will be my pleasure, I assure you,” he said with an ardent smile, adding apologetically, “It cannot be for a few days yet, however. My captain informed me when we returned today that there are some trifling repairs that must be made. Now, with the uncertain weather, it is an excellent time to attend to them. I want everything to be in good order when I show you my beauty.”
“May a mere husband take part in this conversation?” inquired Chalford, coming to stand beside Adriana. “I have scarcely exchanged a word with you all day, my lady.”
She smiled at him. “Mr. Braverstoke has been telling me about his yacht, sir, the Golden Fleece. Indeed, he has offered to take me out sailing one day. I should like that very much.”
“Perhaps your husband will not allow it,” said Braverstoke, regarding the marquess with an air of amused challenge.
“I have no objection,” Chalford said. “Indeed, I have heard she is a speedy little craft. I’d like very much to have the opportunity to sail aboard her myself.”
“Then,” said Braverstoke, resigned but polite, “you must come with us, certainly.”
“Oh, yes, Joshua, that would be the very thing.”
If Braverstoke did not share Adriana’s enthusiasm when Chalford said he would be delighted to join them, nothing in his expression other than a little stiffness in his smile betrayed his disappointment. He assured them both that he would inform them as soon as the ship was ready to set out again.
Once the tea things had been cleared away, Lord Braverstoke and the other local people began to make their adieux and take their departure. With this example set, the houseguests too, began to bid their hosts good night. Soon, only Villiers, Lord Clifford, and Norfolk were left, the first two of these gentlemen having ruthlessly abandoned their wives to solitary cots in order to sit up with the duke over a game of whist for pound points.
While Adriana teasingly admonished them for their connubial defection, Chalford rang for the third footman. “See to the gentlemen’s needs, Jacob. If they play too late, you have my leave to nap in the outer hall. They can wake you if they wish to do so.” He looked at the three, who were all grinning at him. “You will not miss us if we retire, gentlemen. There is plenty of port left, or if you prefer, Jacob can serve you whatever else you like. Come, my lady, ’tis bed for us.”
Bidding the others good night, Adriana went up the stairs with her husband, then alone to her dressing room, her spirits sagging with the knowledge that many of their guests would depart the next day, the rest the day after, for Brighton. When she had dismissed Nancy, she moved to look out her bedchamber window at the Channel. All was quiet now and a crescent moon cast silvery light on the restless dark waters in the distance, highlighting breaking crests on the rolling waves.
“’Tis a magnificent view, is it not?”
She had not heard him come in, but she turned now to look at him. He wore a dark-blue silk dressing gown tied at the waist with a long sash of the same material. His feet were bare on the carpeted floor. She smiled at him. “I am glad you came in. You were right in saying we have not talked today. I have not even thanked you for coming in last night as you did.”
“You thanked me more than once last night, sweetheart, and thanks were neither expected nor necessary. I knew you would be frightened of the storm.”
“But I had not been kind to you, Joshua—earlier in the evening, I mean. When I—”
“I know what you mean, Adriana. You were angry, that is all. You have every right to express your anger to me.”
“But it does no good,” she protested. “You do not listen.”
“I listen,” he said, giving her a straight, rather stern look, “but your anger has not been particularly reasonable, has it? You are vexed because I refuse to follow the mob to Brighton at a time when that city may be counted upon to be full to overflowing, when it will be well nigh impossible to move about the streets for the crowds, and when there are matters demanding my attention here. I have many things to do, and so do you. You ought to spend more time with Aunt Adelaide, for one thing—”
She felt her unpredictable temper stir again and forcibly repressed it. Turning back to the window, she said with a calm to match his own, “I will learn all she can teach me, Joshua, but I have no wish to learn the whole in a week or to demand that she relinquish to me those duties that she enjoys so much. Moreover, I do not believe my vexation stems entirely from your refusal to take me to Brighton, nor do I consider the request unreasonable.”
“We are back to that, are we?” The muscle high on his right cheek twitched. “I do not wish to discuss that issue again.”
“Nor do I wish it, sir,” she said, turning her head to glare at him, exasperated, “but I find your attitude both selfish and arrogant. I have asked for one thing, and you say you are too busy to accommodate me; yet I cannot think what it is you do here that is so crucial that your people cannot manage without you.”
“It is my duty to oversee everything that goes on,” he said reasonably. “I have been away two months, after all. There is much to learn about what transpired while I was away.”
“Brighton is where our friends are, Joshua, and after so many years of being buried at Wryde, years of submitting either to Papa’s decrees or to Alston’s, is it so unreasonable to wish to share the company of my friends, to share their amusements?”
“You have the company of your friends now, do you not?”
“Well, of course I do, but what good is that when everyone will be gone on Thursday? I shall then be bored to distraction.”
“Don’t you think you are behaving childishly?”
“Oh,” she gasped, “you are always so cocksure, Joshua, so all-knowing, as though you and you alone can be right. You called me childish last night, too, when it was you treating me like a child that made me behave so—if indeed I did. You make me so angry!” She had struggled against her growing fury, but emotion prevailed; and now, without thought for consequence, indeed without thought for anything beyond her outrage, she whirled on him, flailing, her fists pounding against his chest, her angry words punctuating every blow. “I am not a child, damn you!”
Chalford stood there, stunned for a moment, before he made any attempt to protect himself. Then, without effort, he caught her wrists in a firm grasp and said grimly, “I will let you hurl whatever words at me you like, Adriana, but I will not brook outright violence. Such ungoverned behavior merely serves to prove my point, as you must see for yourself. Now, come to bed.”
“I shall sleep here tonight,” she said, breathing heavily and glaring at him but striving, nonetheless, for a tone haughty enough to match any she had heard from Lady Adelaide.
“I think not,” he replied. “You will come with me.”
Reluctantly she obeyed him and then, in his bed, found herself fighting unreasonable fury again when he made no attempt to make love to her. She knew from the rhythm of his breathing that he was not asleep, but he made no attempt to speak to her either. In her frustration, she found herself replaying their confrontation in her mind. It was not long before she began to wish very much that the scene had never occurred and to wonder what she could do to make matters better between them.
Finally, after what seemed to be an hour or more of increasing tension, she decided there was on
ly one thing to do. She said quietly, “Joshua, are you still awake?”
“Yes.”
She swallowed, wishing this were not necessary. “Perhaps you were right. If I behaved childishly, I didn’t mean to do so. It just seems to happen. You must think me awfully spoiled.” She paused, drawing a careful breath, then adding in a near whisper, “I hope you are not sorry you married me.”
“I am certainly not sorry about that, sweetheart. Nor,” he added gently, “do I think you spoiled, particularly. You just found fashionable life in London to your liking and would like to continue that butterfly existence. I understand. Unfortunately, it isn’t possible when you are a marchioness with a responsibility to uphold your position.”
“But surely we need not remain here throughout the year,” she protested, trying hard to sound reasonable and not childish. Really, it was difficult to tell the difference sometimes. “I know of dukes and duchesses who are always traveling about, to country houses, to London, into Leicestershire for the hunting, and to Brighton—like Norfolk, though he lives and breathes for Arundel. No one thinks they are neglecting their duties, Joshua. Surely no one would expect more of us than of them.”
“I have never said you cannot ever leave here,” he said. His voice had a bitter note in it now. “We will certainly go to London together occasionally and to visit your father at Wryde. I remain here because I prefer to do so, but you may perhaps, from time to time, visit friends by yourself if you like. And you may certainly invite people to visit whenever you like.”
Adriana stifled a sigh. Though the conversation had not gone as she had hoped, he had now broached a subject she could not ignore. “I’d like to invite Miranda to stay with us,” she said. “She dislikes living with Alston and Sophie, as I did, and she would prefer to come to us. Would you allow that, Joshua?”
“Certainly, although I cannot think it a wise thing to suggest so soon after our marriage. Your brother would no doubt oppose the proposition now, and I believe it would be better for you to become more settled here before you invite her for a long visit. Invite them all to come for Christmas, perhaps, then you can invite Miranda to stay on until she wishes to return to London for the Season, as she surely will.”
Knowing she would do well to accept his suggestion and certain she would do herself no good at all by mentioning now that she, too, intended to return to London for the Season, Adriana held her peace.
After a period of silence, Chalford slipped his arm beneath her shoulders and drew her to him. “I know you fear boredom here, sweetheart, but just wait until the others have gone. I’ll help you find things to amuse you.” Raising himself onto his elbow, he bent over to kiss her, and as she responded, it occurred to her that there was one thing, certainly, that never failed to rout boredom. Their disagreement was soon forgotten.
7
THEY BADE FAREWELL TO the last of their visitors before noon on Thursday, and Adriana made every attempt to appear cheerful as she turned back toward the main entrance after waving good-bye to the final coach, but she could not repress a small sigh as she stepped back into the empty entry hall at Chalford’s side.
He chuckled. “Go and find a warm cloak, sweetheart. You are going to need it.”
She looked up at him, curiosity promptly overcoming depression. “Why do I need a cloak, sir? There is a brisk wind blowing, to be sure, but the air is quite warm today.”
“Just, for once, do as I say without question,” he told her, grinning, “and put on a pair of sturdy shoes, too. You won’t want those skimpy little sandals where we’re going.”
“And must I change my dress as well?” she asked, looking down at her sprig muslin round gown.
“No need. Since it has no train to get in the way, that one will serve you well enough. Now go!”
Hurrying up the stairs to her dressing room, she quickly donned a pair of stout walking shoes and ordered Nancy to search out a pelisse for her.
“He said to find a heavy cloak, but I haven’t got one, as I told him not two days ago, so my Persian double silk pelisse must do. I am persuaded you will have packed it, Nancy.”
“To be sure, Miss Adrie, but ’tis not much use against this damp chill, I’m thinkin’. I told you more ’n’ once you did ought to have a good heavy wool one made up, with a warm hood, but you never did. ’Tis a wonder ’n’ all you’ve never caught the ague, runnin’ about London in naught but such skimpy dresses.”
“No one wears heavy cloaks anymore, Nancy, and one always has furs to wrap around oneself in the coach, so unless one strolls about visiting shops, there is no need for anything heavier than a pelisse or an occasional light shawl.”
“Well, unless I much mistake the matter, miss, you’ll be needin’ somethin’ a lot warmer than that here,” Nancy said tartly as she extracted from the back of the wardrobe the article in question, an exquisite creation of amber silk with dark-brown figuring, a pattern that was reversed on the inside. “There be a chill in that wind today, sunny skies or not.”
“Well, I am certainly not going to tell Chalford I cannot go with him for lack of proper clothing,” Adriana said. “He is all impatience, and I confess, my curiosity is sufficiently aroused that I would go with him in my shift if it were necessary. Don’t scold,” she added when her abigail’s eyebrows beetled ominously. “I expect to need warm clothes for winter, but Lady Adelaide will know what must be done. Perhaps there is a seamstress in Hythe.”
Flinging the pelisse over her shoulders, settling its wide collar, and tying the silken strings beneath her chin, she took a quick look in the pier glass, then hurried back downstairs to find Chalford awaiting her in the entry hall. He shook his head at the light pelisse but said nothing more than that they had best hurry if they were going to catch the tide.”
“The tide?”
“I thought you might like to see how you like the Sea Dragon,” he said, smiling at her, clearly well-pleased with himself and just as clearly watching for her reaction.
“You are going to take me out on your yacht?”
“Indeed I am. I thought you ought to know what our Sea Dragon is like so that you might better compare her with Braverstoke’s boat when the opportunity arises.”
Glancing up at him, Adriana’s eyes twinkled, but she said nothing of the thoughts tumbling through her mind, thoughts that delighted her and filled her with a warm glow of happiness. She spoke only of her pleasure. “I have always wished to go out upon the sea in a real ship,” she said. “This is beyond anything great, Joshua. Where is she?”
“I keep her berthed in a small harbor just above Hythe. We have no dock below the castle. The harbor there is not safe in a storm, and though it is perfectly possible to sail her in, especially when the weather is fine, as it is today, I did not think your first excursion aboard he ought to begin with a climb up a rope ladder to the deck.” When Adriana’s eyes widened, he chuckled. “We’ll save that experience for another time. I do hope your shoes are more practical than that fool pelisse.”
She grinned at him. “My shoes are fine.” She lifted the hem of her skirt to show him: “Not precisely the height of fashion, but I daresay I can totter about the streets of Hythe without mishap. Indeed, I daresay I could even negotiate your cliff path in them if I had to do so.”
Chalford’s curricle awaited them at the door, and he lifted Adriana onto the seat, shouting to his groom to “Give them their heads” as soon as he had leapt up beside her and gathered the reins into his hands. The groom did as he was bid, then hoisted himself to his perch behind them as the curricle surged forward. Chalford negotiated the turn from the quadrangle through the barbican gate in fine style, looping his whip and catching the thong with a deft twist of his wrist. A moment later they were across the drawbridge, through the lodge gates, and on their way.
The journey into Hythe was quickly accomplished, and they had nearly passed through the village before Adriana knew where they were. She protested at their speed.
“Nothing much
to see here,” Chalford told her, slowing his team nonetheless. “Dover and Ashford are the nearest towns of any size, if you are thinking of visiting the shops. The only thing Hythe still has to boast about is Saint Leonard’s, which dates from the Middle Ages. It’s got a mighty fine chancel.”
“But I thought Hythe was a port city,” she said. “This is naught but a village.”
“In its day it was one of the Cinque Ports,” he said, “but its day ended somewhere toward the close of the thirteenth century. Hythe used to spread for two miles along the coast and up the steep slopes behind us, but over the years the sea has spoiled the main harbor and obliterated much of the town.”
The private harbor where the Sea Dragon was berthed was cup-shaped, small, and picturesque. There were five boats tied to docks there, only one of which was larger than the Sea Dragon. Leaving the curricle in the groom’s charge, they walked down to the water together. Joshua, carrying a basket he had taken from the curricle in one hand and guiding Adriana with the other placed lightly under her elbow, identified the boats for her. Upon discovering that the larger boat was the Golden Fleece, she was pleased to be able to tell him with sincerity that she thought the Sea Dragon the more graceful-looking vessel.
Beaming with pride, Joshua helped her aboard. The little yacht gleamed from stem to stern, its woods and brasses polished to a high gloss, its painters and lines coiled neatly in place, its sails tidily furled. The only fault Adriana could detect was an odd and rather overpowering odor of deteriorating fish.
“Welcome aboard, m’lady,” said the bearded seaman who hurried up from belowdecks to greet them.
“This is Captain Curry, my dear,” Chalford told her. “Are we ready to sail, Curry?”
“Aye, m’lord, the lads are below. Shall I take the basket?”
“Yes, and stow it carefully. ’Tis a picnic for my lady.”
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