Michelle Styles

by An Impulsive Debutante

  Was affection enough? Was she wrong to hope for more? Was she wrong to want more?

  ‘Lottie, don’t you agree?’ Lucy was looking at her with a quizzical expression. ‘About the ball?’

  ‘Yes, yes, I am positive it will be wonderful.’ Lottie firmly but politely changed the subject back to the weather.

  ‘Do you think I can skip the next few calls, Lucy?’ Lottie asked as they left the Dresser household. ‘My head is beginning to pain me.’

  ‘I never thought to hear you say that.’ Her sister-in-law paused as she was getting into the carriage. ‘You do not appear to be enjoying today’s round of calling. I thought you lived for it and home was dull, dull, dull. Isn’t that what you wrote me when you first arrived in Haydon Bridge?’

  ‘It must be some other Lottie that you are speaking of.’ Lottie pressed her hand against Lucy’s. ‘Have I told you lately how dear you are to me? And how much I appreciate the things you have done for me lately.’

  Lucy’s cheeks turned a rosy pink and she became almost beautiful. Lottie could suddenly see why her brother had married her and why he was the lucky one and not the other way around.

  ‘I do declare, Lady Thorngrafton, marriage has been good for you.’

  ‘Sometimes, one learns lessons the hard way, lessons you did not even know you needed to learn.’

  Lucy settled herself in the carriage. ‘As long as you are rested for the ball tonight. Henry has promised that he will be back in time from Durham.’

  ‘I shall sit on the sidelines and keep you company. Lottie, the very respectable matron.’

  ‘Here, I was looking forward to seeing you dance.’

  ‘I am not sure…’ Lottie allowed her voice to trail away. How could she go to a dance without thinking about Tristan and the last time they had waltzed together? She would find an excuse later in the day. She had no desire to go the Assembly Rooms today or any time soon. It was not the pity that she would see in people’s faces when she took her place among the matrons. Or the inevitable sitting out of every dance because her husband wasn’t there. Her reasons were far more personal. She was not ready to face the emptiness in her heart. ‘I wanted to thank you for your intervention back there.’

  ‘Don’t let the harridans bother you, Lottie.’

  ‘Mrs Fletcher and her kind don’t, Lucy. She is actually very nice once you begin speaking with her. Honestly, I would be a pretty poor person if I based my self-worth on the judgement of a few. It is just…’ Lottie gave a small hand wave as her throat closed.

  ‘We can go straight to the Stantons if you wish. I know both Emma and Mr Stanton will be looking forward to seeing you.’

  ‘I hardly think that.’ Lottie smiled, regaining her composure now that the danger had passed. She was certain that she could act normally until the next time something reminded her. ‘I only hope that Emma has forgiven me for my inopportune comments.’

  ‘Emma and Mr Stanton are very much in love. I for one have revised my opinion of those comments. They were precisely what was needed.’

  ‘Very well, we shall press on.’

  The crush at the Stantons was worse than Lottie had anticipated. Everyone who was anyone in Newcastle appeared to have descended on Emma and Jack Stanton’s At Home. Everyone would know that she was making calls without her husband.

  Lottie had to admit that she had been wrong about Emma being ancient. She looked so lovely and happy, standing next to her doting husband that Lottie felt a distinct twinge of jealousy. She did not mind the gossip about Tristan not being there. She wanted him to be there for her own well-being. She wanted Tristan to look at her like that. She wanted to feel his hand about her waist and see his eyes fill with warmth and good humour. Not that it was possible. She had been at Lucy’s for more than a week now. And with each passing moment, she missed him more. But he had not sent word. It would not be difficult to find her, if he desired it.

  A well-upholstered lady moved and she spied a pair of broad shoulders encased in a form-fitting frock coat. Lottie rubbed her eyes. And she was seeing things now. Tristan here? Impossible. Her nerves were becoming addled.

  ‘I wanted to say how sorry I was about my outburst after the skating party,’ Lottie said in an undertone to Emma. ‘It was wrong of me. I understand now how these things can happen.’

  ‘On the contrary, I am now grateful for it. Jack and I married and resolved our differences. It changed my life.’ Emma smiled at her. ‘Think on it no more. I understand you have become a lady now.’

  ‘That is correct.’ Lottie braced herself for the inevitable question—where was her husband? She had already seen several people pointedly nudging each other. ‘I married Tristan Dyvelston, Lord Thorngrafton, a few weeks ago…Undoubtedly Lucy told you the circumstances.’

  ‘Jack says that Thorngrafton is a good and able man. High praise indeed from Jack. I wish you all the happiness.’ Emma pressed Lottie’s hand. ‘I can see a change in you. There is a certain glow that wasn’t there before.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Lottie said around the sudden lump in her throat.

  ‘And where has—?’

  ‘There you are, Lottie. At last I discover you.’ Tristan’s voice slid over and around her.

  Lottie hardly dared breathe, let alone turn and see him. But he was here. In this room. She had to be hearing things. Tristan would never go to an At Home and certainly not one with her. It was beyond imagining. His fingers grasped her elbow. And she knew this was no dream. ‘Tristan.’

  ‘Lottie left before I could accompany her on her rounds,’ Tristan explained to Emma. ‘I am so pleased that my hunch was correct and that you were so gracious to allow me to wait here for her.’

  ‘Grace and politeness had nothing to do with it. It gave Jack and my father someone to converse with. Jack hates these sorts of gatherings, but even he recognised the importance of the first At Home to a bride.’ Emma gave another smile and swept off to greet some more callers, leaving Lottie to stand awkwardly, facing Tristan.

  Eagerly her eyes searched his face. His mouth appeared slightly pinched and his eyes hollowed, but that could have been the result of anything.

  ‘You left without saying goodbye.’

  ‘I said goodbye to the empty hallway.’

  ‘That does not count, Lottie. You should have said goodbye to my face.’

  ‘I have no wish for a scene, Lord Thorngrafton.’ Lottie made her voice cold.

  Tristan’s response was to press his lips together. The silence between them grew.

  ‘Tristan,’ Lottie said into the silence, striving for normalcy, ‘I have told everyone you were away on business.’

  ‘What sort of husband leaves his bride alone so quickly after the wedding?’ Tristan smiled down at her. His eyes were warm and pleasant. A show for others. It had to be. ‘You forgot your ring.’

  He held it out. Lottie’s heart lurched. She longed to grab it. Her hand felt too light and empty without it, but it was impossible. There was too much between them. She forced her hand to remain still.

  ‘Keep it. It represents a lie.’

  ‘As you wish…for now.’ His eyes were inscrutable as he smoothly returned the ring to his pocket.

  ‘But why come here? Why not to the house?’ Lottie could hear her voice begin to rise as she ruthlessly crushed any hope. Tristan had shown up at this At Home. He was in Newcastle and he had not bothered to visit her first.

  Several of the more elderly ladies turned towards them. Lottie saw at least one disapproving glance as they lifted their hands to gossip.

  ‘Do you want to make a scene?’ Tristan asked out of the side of his mouth. ‘I am here. I arrived in Newcastle after you went out this morning, after you began your round of calling. I did promise that you would not be humiliated.’

  ‘And you always keep your promises,’ Lottie said carefully.

  ‘Always.’ His eyes crinkled at the corners. ‘You did say that the first At Homes a woman attends after her marriage are among
her most important.’

  Lottie resisted the urge to smile back. She wanted there to be another reason why he was here. A reason beyond simply keeping his promise and she wanted the reason to be her.

  Then it hit her like a physical blow to her stomach. Tristan had not attempted to find her earlier. He had appeared at Jack Stanton’s At Home, and had been here far longer than propriety suggested necessary. Jack Stanton was the key to everything. He was a business associate of Tristan’s. He was here because of Jack Stanton and not because of her. And he had known of her association with Jack when they met at Shaw’s. It did not take a genius to see who he was wary of offending. Whose society he wanted to be accepted in. The irony of the situation failed to make her laugh.

  ‘Did you have trouble finding me?’

  ‘Finding you?’ He raised one eyebrow and his body stilled. ‘Not particularly, I suspected you would be here.’

  ‘Ah, Thorngrafton, I see your wife has appeared.’ Jack Stanton came up and clapped Tristan on the back. ‘Good, good, Emma will be relieved. She was a bit worried when you appeared earlier without her.’

  ‘Yes, Stanton, Lottie has finally arrived. You know how the ladies are. Stubborn and insistent.’

  ‘I do, indeed. But Emma would have it that I am the stubborn one.’ Jack Stanton inclined his head. ‘We must compare notes some time.’

  ‘I look forward to it.’

  Jack Stanton moved on, greeting other people. Lottie waited until he was out of earshot and lowered her voice. ‘Is he a close business associate of yours?’

  ‘A business associate and a friend for more years than I would like to remember. We share an interest in railways and progress.’ Tristan’s hand caught her elbow, moved her closer to him and out of the way of a maundering matron who was intent on greeting her friends. The brief collision of their bodies caused Lottie’s heart to leap. ‘He was vastly amused when he learned we had married and the manner of our marriage.’

  ‘Amused.’ Lottie shifted uneasily. She could well imagine Jack Stanton’s amusement.

  ‘I believe he said something about pots calling kettles black.’

  ‘I explained about that.’ Lottie plucked at her glove. ‘It was an error of judgement on my part. I have apologised to Emma, but she simply laughed.’

  ‘His wife suits him. I don’t think I have seen him look this happy and contented before.’

  The pain between Lottie’s eyes threatened to overwhelm her. She bit her lip, wondering what she could say. ‘My time is nearly up.’

  ‘Time? We have scarcely begun.’

  ‘Fifteen minutes is the proper length for a call. Enough for a cup of tea and a conversation about the weather.’ Lottie tilted her head. ‘I have no wish to trespass on the Stantons’ hospitality.’

  ‘I will take you home.’

  Home. The word echoed through her body, conjuring so many memories. But she knew that she could not simply go with Tristan. Nothing was settled between then, and she refused to go back to what they had. It was an infatuation, that was all, and it would pass in time.

  ‘I came with Lucy.’

  His eyes clouded and then cleared. ‘I understand.’

  He did not move away from her.

  ‘Oh, Lottie, Lady Thorngrafton, Lord Thorngrafton. Your prediction from last summer came true after all.’ Martha Irons came up, giggling, and Lottie wondered if murder was ever justifiable. ‘Do you realise that you will have to lead the quadrille at tonight’s dance at the Assembly Rooms? How does it feel to have your dreams come true? All your predictions?’

  ‘I am very happy and looking forward to the ball,’ Lottie replied woodenly as she resolved herself to a crashing headache.

  ‘Are we going to the ball tonight?’ He raised an eyebrow, looked down at her.

  To go to the ball with Tristan. On his arm. Did he want to go? Lottie hesitated. The lure of waltzing again with Tristan was powerful, if only for a few moments. She would have to guard her heart, but she knew she would be unable to resist. ‘I suppose we are. Everyone will be there.’

  ‘It does seem to be the talk of the At Home.’

  Lottie’s smile froze. She had forgotten about Jack Stanton and the need to be correct. The formality of being titled and keeping up appearances. She wanted to throw down her gloves and stomp off. She wanted Tristan to waltz with her because he wanted to, not because it was expected of him.

  ‘Balls and the like always excite the gossips.’

  ‘And do they excite you, Lottie?’

  ‘Sometimes.’ Lottie examined the handle of her reticule. Then she glanced up into Tristan’s face. There was a wariness about his expression. ‘I believe I shall enjoy this ball after all.’

  ‘I will take you in my carriage. We do not wish to cause talk.’

  ‘If you wish…’

  ‘I positively insist.’ Tristan raised her hand to his lips and turned it over. His tongue briefly found the gap in her glove and touched her bare skin. Heat seared up her arm and she gave a brief gasp. His eyes took on a cynical look. ‘Not indifferent to me, then, Lottie.’

  ‘Lucy is signalling, Tristan. I must go.’ Silently Lottie cursed her wayward body. She would forget her passion for him in time.

  ‘I will bid you adieu, then.’

  Lottie forced her legs to carry her to Lucy’s waiting carriage and did not look back.

  Chapter Sixteen

  ‘Why has he done that?’ Lottie frowned as the carriage returned to the Charltons’ home. ‘Why has he sent the carriage so early?’

  Outside the Charltons’ drive, with his arms clearly emblazoned on it, stood Tristan’s carriage. On the ride back from the Stantons’, Lottie had sat stone-faced, concentrating on tonight. What she would wear and how she would show Tristan that she was indifferent to him.

  ‘Done what?’ Lucy leant forwards and gave a pleased smile and a little clap of her hands. ‘I thought he might do that! Emma said that he had arrived early to the At Home. I am certain that he wants to mend this quarrel between you two. Quarrels often happen in the early part of a marriage, Lottie.’

  ‘This was why you insisted we make the small stop at the milliner’s.’ Lottie’s heart sank. Lucy had decided to meddle and fix the quarrel. She had tried to keep most of the trouble to herself, not wanting to overburden Lucy, but now it appeared that Lucy considered the chasm between them to be a mere tiff and had encouraged Tristan to call at the house. It wasn’t. It was something far more fundamental. She was not some sort of blank slate to be written on, to be shaped and moulded as Tristan saw fit.

  ‘I wanted to see the new bonnets, but I also wanted to give your husband time. I hoped he would be here when we returned after I hinted at it. I am so pleased he understood.’ Lucy reached over and patted Lottie’s hand. ‘You have spent long enough hiding in your room. Even Henry remarked on it two nights ago.’

  ‘Remarked? He positively bellowed.’ Lottie attempted to peer around Lucy and discover exactly where Tristan was and in what sort of mood. ‘A rogue elephant would have had more subtlety and tact.’

  ‘You do your brother a disservice. He simply feels that you should have given your marriage a chance. He does care about you. He is willing to provide a home for you, if that is what you require.’

  ‘Thank you. I know this is your doing.’ Lottie placed a kiss on Lucy’s cheek. ‘You can move mountains in your quiet way. I never quite appreciated how well you manage him.’

  ‘Sometimes, one accomplishes more.’ Lucy reached over and straightened Lottie’s bonnet. ‘Now, enough of this. You have a husband, standing there waiting for you.’

  ‘Will you stay with me?’ Lottie asked, suddenly nervous. What more could Tristan have to say to her?

  ‘It is far better to speak to your husband in private before the ball.’ Lucy’s eyes turned grave. ‘It saves scenes. It is better for all concerned this way.’

  ‘There is really very little to speak about.’ Lottie climbed down from the carriage. Her insides tre
mbled. ‘Our marriage is over.’

  ‘Is that you want? Or are you going to fight?’

  ‘There is nothing to fight for.’

  ‘Ah, Lottie, you return at last.’ Tristan came up and put his hand on her shoulder.

  ‘Have you been waiting long?’ Lottie forced her voice to be normal.

  ‘I decided to bow to your expertise on At Homes and left.’

  ‘Are you staying somewhere in Newcastle?’

  ‘I arrived this morning, but have arranged for lodgings at the Royal Hotel. I felt you might prefer it that way.’

  Lottie’s heart twisted. Rooms without her. There was no indication that he intended that she should live with him. They would maintain separate lives and establishments, how many in the aristocracy behaved. ‘Are you planning on staying long in Newcastle?’

  ‘It depends on how long my business in Newcastle takes.’ His jaw tightened and his eyes became hooded. ‘We will have to appear as husband and wife, Lottie. Society will demand it.’

  ‘I hardly intend on cutting you, Lord Thorngrafton. We are married. There would be talk and I have no intention of causing unnecessary scandal. It would reflect badly on my family.’

  ‘You relieve me no end.’ He inclined his head. ‘Now, do we continue this discussion on the pavement or do you wish to take a ride in my carriage?’

  A ride in his carriage. Lottie’s head pounded. She was not ready to be alone with him. It brought back far too many memories of the other carriage ride out to Gretna Green. ‘I am tired, Tristan. Anything you need to say can be said in Lucy and Henry’s drawing room.’

  ‘If that is what you wish…’ He inclined his head.

  ‘I do,’ Lottie said firmly. ‘Our marriage is of great concern to me. We need to determine how best we go on from here.’

  ‘Yes, you wouldn’t want anyone to think anything was amiss.’ Tristan stared at his wife, drinking in her form. Not a hair was out of place. It was as if she was encased in armour. There had to be a way of reaching Lottie, of making her understand that he had never intended to hurt her.