His mind picked back through memories of all the evidence and facts he had learned. “He was a gunner, wasn’t he?”
“He was. It is a miracle he is alive. They train their cannon on ours, of course. The lad only survived because he had been bending to open another keg to check it.”
Gunners handled powder all the time. This young man might know more than the other survivors.
“When will he be in England?”
“Two weeks or so, I am told. The family finally found the money to send people over to bring him back. Not able to make it on his own, of course.”
Sebastian thanked Proctor, and asked to be told when the soldier was home. He then continued on his way. How capricious of fate to offer another potential breakthrough in the case of Kelmsleigh, right on the heels of his engagement to the dead man’s daughter.
Unfortunately, he did not expect to learn anything that would exonerate Audrianna’s father. Rather the opposite.
Upon returning to Park Lane, he checked on Morgan and discovered that Kennington and Symes-Wilvert were visiting. Unable to make a good escape, he was trapped into a long hour of whist. Morgan’s two friends wanted to talk about the wedding.
“Damned decent of you, Summerhays,” Kennington offered sonorously.
“Yes, damned decent,” Symes-Wilvert concurred.
“My brother is only sorry that they could not announce their intentions before this unfortunate gossip started,” Morgan said. “In attempting to allow Miss Kelmsleigh’s family the entire period of mourning for her late father to pass, and in trying to let time itself blunt future gossip on the capricious direction that affection can take, they innocently opened the door for worse speculation.”
Sebastian stared at his cards. Morgan had just lied. Not baldly, since Morgan did not know for certain there had not been a liaison prior to the night at the Two Swords, but . . . His brother admired Audrianna, and it appeared he would stretch the truth to help her weather this storm.
“I hear she is a handsome woman, so I am sure the match is not all caprice,” Kennington said. “You met her while looking into that business about her father, I assume.”
“Yes.” And he had.
“I expect that you will be giving up on that now, like the others did. It did not look like it was going anywhere anyway, once he all but confessed in hanging himself,” Symes-Wilvert said.
Sebastian played a card.
“If there were others involved, I do not think they should sleep easily just yet,” Morgan said. “My brother can be most tenacious in the execution of his duty.”
“Of course. I was not implying that he would not do his duty, you understand,” Symes-Wilvert said, flushing. “Just, his bride will not be wanting all that dug up again. I thought—”
How like Symes-Wilvert not to realize that in marrying Miss Kelmsleigh, Sebastian all but forced himself to exercise that tenacity that Morgan mentioned. If he gave up his investigation now, he essentially admitted those engravings had got his character right.
He noted Morgan’s serious expression now that the conversation had turned to that gunpowder. It had always been thus. Since the first reports of that massacre reached London, Morgan’s interest had been very keen. He had lost his composure once, when he spoke of the horror those soldiers had faced due to negligence or worse. Morgan’s fondness for Audrianna would not change any of that.
“Miss Kelmsleigh knows my views and intentions,” Sebastian said. “I am grateful for your concern regarding my marital harmony, however.”
“I think Summerhays here intends to keep harmony in other ways.” Kennington chortled at his own innuendo. Being Kennington, however, he would not risk that others might miss his all-too-obvious point. “Time to put all that practice to good use, eh, Summerhays? Then your lady will not be caring what you do in this other matter.”
Symes-Wilvert snickered. Morgan smiled with forbearance at his faithful, foolish friend. Sebastian laughed obligingly, and snuck a look at his pocket watch.
“I think we overdid it,” Audrianna said.
“Overdid it? Certainly not.” Her mother’s soft, pale face and new lace-trimmed cap hung over the new Russian flame promenade dress that she held to her body. It, like most of her new ensembles, would not be worn until April when she put away her widow’s weeds, but her anticipation of that day was in her eyes. “And why should we not overdo it? Even if we did, which we didn’t. It will take more than a new wardrobe to repay us for all that has happened.”
“Much more,” Sarah said. Then she giggled. “Surely at least two or three wardrobes.”
Mama bit back a laugh. She set down the ensemble and lifted a dinner dress of puce silk. “What do you think of this one, Daphne? I debated forever about the rollios near the hem. Do you agree I chose wisely?”
Daphne offered compliments on the dress. She watched the display from a chair. She had been invited by Mama to visit specifically to inspect the loot.
The extent of the haul stunned Audrianna, even though she had helped buy it all. Bonnets and hats, shawls and reticules, hung from the chairs and covered a table. Dresses had been unwrapped and heaped on the sofa, but many more still waited in their muslin shrouds for inspection.
“I wish that Lizzie had come with you today,” Sarah pouted while she tried on an evening cap adorned with ostrich feathers. “She has such exquisite taste, and I have grown fond of her.”
“Her headaches have returned now as the days lengthen,” Daphne explained. “The physician says she must just bear it, and rest, unless she wants to become an habitué of laudanum. I will be sure to give her a detailed description of every dress, hat, and gown, however.”
“Show Daphne the rose satin, Audrianna,” Mama said. “Now, there was some penance for Lord Sebastian.”
Audrianna held up her new rose satin evening dress for Daphne to admire. “You know, Mama, in a manner of speaking, I am the one who will be doing penance for all of this finery.”
Mama’s face fell into a mask of tenderness. She walked over and gave Audrianna an embrace and kiss. “Indeed so, my dear. Indeed so. It is so brave of you, but then you were always the strongest among us. Except for his station, I would have never permitted this marriage, even after his unforgivable misuse of you. But he is from one of the finest families and your expectations are so improved with him, no matter how distasteful the marital duties will be.”
The little speech made Audrianna blush, but not for the reasons Mama would think. “I meant that I will do penance because the bills for all of this will arrive right after we are married.”
“I would not worry,” Daphne said. “I doubt that Lord Sebastian will be surprised, or find the sum nearly as high as we do.”
“See, Daphne agrees we did not overdo it,” Mama said, even though Daphne had agreed to no such thing. “Oh, did I tell you? I have received a letter from my brother Rupert. He is overjoyed by the news of the engagement, and will travel to town to attend the wedding. It appears, Audrianna, that you have bridged that estrangement, just as you have brought so much other good fortune to us with your sacrifice.”
Daphne’s expression did not alter one whit. Yet Audrianna sensed a chill surround Daphne’s chair on the mention of Uncle Rupert. There could be no joy for Daphne in seeing him at the wedding. After all, Uncle Rupert had left Daphne to her own devices when his and Mama’s brother, Daphne’s father, had died.
Audrianna set aside her rose silk gown. “Have you seen enough? Mama and Sarah can play this game together if you have. We can take a turn on the square if you like.”
Daphne found that agreeable. Bonnets and pelisses donned, they made their escape.
“I suffered Mama much better before I had some experience in not having to,” Audrianna said as they strolled down the street. She entwined her arm in Daphne’s. “I miss all of you.”
No sooner had she accepted the engagement than Mama had insisted she return to the nest. You must marry out of your family’s home. The pre
parations will be inconvenient if you are in the country.
Being here offered little real convenience. It took almost as long to reach Mayfair from this street off Russell Square as it would from Cumberworth. Mama had never liked living so far from the fashionable western neighborhoods, but the house that they let here had been convenient to Papa’s duties at the Tower.
“She just wants you near her for a few final days. You will be leaving the cage soon,” Daphne said.
“I fly from one cage to another, however. I think I will see my months at The Rarest Blooms among the most happy and free that I ever knew.”
Daphne squeezed her hand. “We are always there for you. You will visit often.”
“Will you all be with me on Saturday? It will give me courage if you are.”
“I will be there, and Celia, I think.”
“Lizzie?”
“I would not count on it. These headaches are too capricious.”
They reached Bedford Square, with its neat, modest town houses lined in uniform rows on each side. She and Roger used to stroll here before he went to the war. After their engagement, he had spoken of letting one of these houses once they were wed. She had spent hours while he was gone picturing herself in one of them. The square held enough memories that she had avoided it for months after she released Roger from his obligation.
They entered the garden and strolled amid its barren trees, boxwood, and ivy.
“Do you mind too much that Uncle Rupert and Aunt Clara will be at my wedding?” Audrianna asked.
“Who am I to mind? Their recent slights to your family signify more than any old ones to me.”
Those recent slights were not small ones, and Audrianna did mind that this rapprochement would happen with no further ado. After Papa’s death, Uncle Rupert had done nothing to alleviate their strained circumstances. “I fear this means that Mama believes he was justified in breaking with us.”
“It only means that she understands the ways of the world. She may not think her brother was justified, but she understands why he did it. And she understands why now he wants the connections that you bring to the family.”
“It gives me heart to know I am so useful to him.” She could not keep a sardonic note from her tone.
“It would give me heart to know that you welcome this wedding in some way, cousin, even if it is only for the wardrobes and connections that your family will enjoy,” Daphne said. “The circumstances were such that you could make no other choice, but—”
“At the moment I do welcome it, if only to end this month of waiting. And to escape Mama. If I am going to do this, I am eager that it be sooner rather than later.”
Mama actually had little to do with her restlessness, and it was unfair to blame her. The real reason was that she did not care for the formalities now smothering her and Lord Sebastian. Their every meeting took place on stage now, on which they wore costumes of etiquette. Every word was planned and every flattery predictable. The mood was so different from the events and easy conversations that had led to their engagement.
Instead of learning to know him better this last month, she had come to know him less well. He kept receding in familiarity. She feared that if much more time passed, she would marry a total stranger.
“One part that I do not welcome is Lady Wittonbury,” she admitted.
“Has she been rude to you?”
“Is the word rude ever applied to queens? She has let me know I am not suitable for her son with every glance and every address. She sent me a little stack of books on etiquette and behavior last week.”
“Now, that was rude.”
“I thought so. They arrived with a personal note from her. She explained that such books were written for those trying to better themselves, by those who already had, and therefore often include mistakes that the best born would recognize. So she had corrected the errors.”
“She provided a gloss on the texts?”
“Oh, yes. There are little marginal notes all through them in her hand.” Daphne was laughing and Audrianna had to laugh too. “Most of the comments explained that only common people would consider this or that advice accurate.”
Daphne stopped to admire some crocuses poking their heads through the ivy under a tree. “Has your mother spoken to you, Audrianna, with more useful advice than the marchioness offered? You know what I mean.”
“Mama believes there is no need. It would be nice if someone who knows me believed that the rumors were not true.”
“It was not your character, but his, that raised the doubts, and I apologize for mine. If you have any questions, I will try to answer them, since your mother has not invited the conversation herself.”
She had many questions, but not about the matter that Daphne now broached. Lord Sebastian had already shown her that part would be tolerable enough. It was not the night-by-night living that worked on her mind, but the day-today.
How would she hide the anger that she still felt about Papa?
How would she keep the marchioness from making her miserable?
How would she find friends in this new world that she entered?
What was the etiquette when your husband took a mistress? Those books said nothing about that. Perhaps she would ask the marchioness someday. Innuendoes the last month indicated that Lady Wittonbury had extensive experience on how the best born handled such developments.
She stopped walking and looked at a naked bush. Its many long branches had turned red and supple. Swollen nobs showed all along them, waiting to burst at the first signs of extended warmth.
It was a forsythia. The most common of blooms. That was what she was too. Ordinary, and not at all rare. If not for the progression of a series of unexpected quirks of fate, Lord Sebastian would have never noticed her, let alone proposed.
She was supposed to revel in her good luck. Nor was she so noble that she did not. She and Mama and Sarah had overdone it at the dressmakers, and she had enjoyed every minute of their orgy of self-indulgence.
“I do have one question,” she said. “It is not about him, or the life I will have. It is about me.”
Daphne cocked her head in curiosity. “What is it?”
“Is it wrong for me to enjoy the kisses of a man whom I will never love?”
Daphne smiled softly. “I am relieved that you asked that. You cannot know how much. No, it is not wrong. Women pretend that love is required for that excitement, but men admit it is not. And the excitement itself often breeds some affection, and that makes life endurable.” She gave Audrianna a little kiss on her cheek. “Nor is it a betrayal of your father to enjoy the kisses, if that is what your question really meant. He would not want you living in dread of the night.”
Daphne could be very wise sometimes. She understood the human heart without even trying. “Why are you relieved?”
“Because if you did not enjoy those kisses, you would be entering hell. I am grateful for the indication that you will not be. Now, I must go back and take my leave of your mother. I have several errands in town, so I can arrange a surprise for your wedding.”
Chapter Twelve
Audrianna’s wedding day did not open auspiciously. Dawn revealed that a drizzle and a biting north wind had descended on London. Mama had the fires built up and fussed about the way the rain would ruin their shoes.
Audrianna bathed and dressed, and sat for the new maid to do her hair. She had avoided asking Mama how this extra servant was being paid. No doubt when Lord Sebastian made his obligatory call after the engagement, Mama had expressed distress about preparing for the wedding day when their circumstances had reduced them to one servant.
She was ready long before anyone else, and went to Sarah’s room to hurry her along. She found her sister and mother arguing over which dress Sarah would wear. That had been decided long ago, during one of their financial debauches at the dressmakers.
Audrianna inserted herself between them. She removed the violet dress from Sarah’s hands, laid it
on the bed, and lifted a primrose dress instead. “You will wear this one, as agreed when you ordered it, or you will not go. The coach already waits outside, and I will not have the entire day be victim to your whims.”
“The other is much finer,” Sarah said. “I look like a child in this one.”
“The gentlemen will notice you faster if you wear this primrose,” Audrianna said.
Sarah stopped pouting long enough to consider that.
“I am leaving in the coach in a quarter hour,” Audrianna said. “It is my sincere hope that you will be joining me. Mama, you should finish quickly too.”
“A quarter hour is far too soon. We will be at the church before anyone else, and appear ridiculous,” Mama said.
“We are not going to the church right away. I want to visit Papa’s grave first.”
Her mother’s sigh filled the chamber. “Audrianna, with the rain—really, it is not wise to—”
“I can hardly go after the church. I may not be able to go at all for a long time to come. I will wear my long cloak and change into my silk shoes after. You can sit in the coach if you like, but I will visit his grave so he knows I have not forgotten him.”
Sebastian approached St. Georges with Hawkeswell by his side. Invited guests passed them, offering Sebastian felicitations.
“Fortune has chosen to give you the rawest day in weeks,” Hawkeswell said. “I am not superstitious myself, however.”
Sebastian was not superstitious either. He credited nature with taking no heed of mankind’s doings, let alone choosing the weather for one man even though it affected thousands. He was a student of ironic coincidences, however. So as he and Hawkeswell stopped at the church’s threshold, he noted that the last time the weather had been this bad was the day he met Miss Kelmsleigh.
All thoughts of rain and wind disappeared when he saw the interior of the church. Someone had turned it into a garden.
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