The Bad Luck Wedding Night, Bad Luck Wedding series #5 (Bad Luck Abroad trilogy)

by Geralyn Dawson

  After consulting the Journal for an appropriate restaurant, the ladies rested from their hunt with a luncheon at a tea shop in Regent Street. They resumed their search in Bruton Street and an hour later passed the plate-glass window of a whatnot shop just in time to see the shopkeeper hang a red "sold" tag around an arm of the object of their quest.

  "That's it!" said Aurora.

  "It's been sold!" cried Melanie.

  "Oh, no," moaned Charlotte.

  "It's perfect," murmured Sarah grimly as she imagined the epergne on the buffet table at the wedding. "We must have it."

  "But it's been sold!" Charlotte's moan rose to a near wail.

  Sarah squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. "Then it's time I tested the power of being a wealthy marchioness. Girls, let's go inside."

  The chime on the door tinkled merrily to herald their entrance as Aurora led the way into the shop. She halted almost immediately, and her sisters and Sarah had to step quickly to keep from plowing into her back. At the same time Sarah noticed the tall, regal woman standing beside the shopkeeper's counter, she heard Aurora mutter, "Oh, wonderful."

  The woman turned, and Sarah recognized her as the lady who'd taken a seat at the next table at the restaurant just as she and the girls were leaving. The girls' attention had been elsewhere, and they hadn't seemed to notice the woman. Sarah couldn't help but notice.

  The woman was beautiful, with the kind of beauty that would make Helen of Troy look plain in comparison. Dark hair framed an aristocratic face. Her pale blue eyes, slim, straight nose, Cupid's-bow mouth, flawless complexion, and perfect figure were the kind of features that aroused lust in men and envy in other women. She wore a smart hat and a stylish dress, and carried herself in such a regal manner that even Queen Victoria could take lessons from her.

  As Nick's sisters bristled visibly, Sarah assumed their reactions were the natural result of feminine jealousy. Then the woman spoke, and Sarah began to revise her conclusion.

  "Oh, my, it's dear Nicholas's sisters. I'm caught. I've just purchased a little gift for you, and I intended to have it sent around to Weston House tomorrow. But since my surprise is discovered, perhaps you'd care to take it with you now? I've heard all about your plans for your engagement ball, and I believe you'll find my gift will come in useful." Then, meeting Sarah's gaze, she smiled politely and said, "And you must be Sarah Simpson. I recognize you from Nicholas's description."

  A number of facts hit Sarah at once. She might be new to the scene when it came to proper British manners, but she knew it wasn't proper for this woman to refer to Nick by his first name unless she was family or, perhaps, an intimate friend. And not even in Texas, where formality was often relaxed, was it proper for one woman to refer to another by her first name and maiden name before being properly introduced. It was a veiled insult, and Sarah knew it.

  She also realized this glorious woman's identity. If she hadn't figured it out on her own, the girls' reaction would have told her. Her stomach took a dive just as Melanie spoke up. "Allow me," the young woman said, laying a supportive hand on Sarah's arm. "Lady Steele, may I introduce my dear sister-in-law, Lady Weston."

  The meeting deteriorated from there.

  "I understand that back at your home in Texas you have a little wedding business."

  Little wedding business? Sarah eyed the epergne the shopkeeper carried past and envisioned wrapping it around the other woman's neck.

  "I think it's wonderful that you are able to work for Charlotte in a professional capacity during your visit to England," Lady Steele continued. "Nicholas tells me your efforts thus far are quite competent."

  Competent? Sarah's eyes narrowed to slits, and she literally bit her tongue to keep from challenging the woman and embarrassing her sisters-in-law. As she searched her mind for exactly the right words with which to respond, the girls exchanged a peevish look with one another, something Sarah found somewhat mollifying.

  Nick's paramour then had the temerity to laugh. "I must confess I wondered a bit at Nicholas's timing in pursuing the annulment now and stirring up talk before another of Charlotte's weddings. However, what man doesn't like to kill two birds with one stone, as the saying goes? He certainly couldn't hire the same wedding planner for this wedding as he used for the last. Why, that woman was terrible at her job. Anything would be an improvement."

  All right. I've had it. Sarah pasted on a sugary smile and drawled, "My husband did mention something along those lines concerning available Englishwomen when he invited me to join him here in England. He found them totally inadequate. Now, if you'll excuse us, my sisters and I must be on our way. We are searching for the perfect centerpiece for Charlotte's bridal table, and..." She paused momentarily to glance at the beautiful epergne that she now wouldn't use under threat of death. "We simply haven't found anything tasteful yet."

  With that, she turned and left, the girls following in her wake. Out in the street, Sarah thought she must be throwing off enough steam to power a ship. "He actually considered marrying that woman?"

  The girls grimaced as one, then Charlotte nodded. "I don't know what he could have been thinking."

  Sarah gave an unladylike snort. "I'll bet I know what he was thinking with, however."

  And to think she'd always considered Nick to be more intelligent than the average man. "Now who is being foolish?"

  "Foolish about what?" Melanie inquired. Sarah sighed. "About the decorations for the ball. Charlotte, how would you feel if we didn't use that epergne after all?"

  Smiling brightly, Charlotte clasped Sarah's hands and gave them a reassuring squeeze. "I'd be ever so relieved."

  A grin played at Sarah's lips at the young woman's response. "It's petty of us. The centerpiece is beautiful. It's perfect."

  "No, it's not," said Melanie. "It was once, but not anymore," Aurora added with a sniff.

  Sarah stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, heedless of the flow of people streaming around her, and met the gaze of each of Nick's sisters in turn. Emotion swelled within her. It was warm and tender and true and filled her heart to overflowing. It was, she realized, love.

  Sarah blinked back tears. Oh my, she'd miss this trio if she left. Now, after meeting That Woman, she found she had reached one decision, anyway. No matter how things turned out between her and Nick, before she left she'd make certain one way or another that Lady Steele would not become the next Lady Weston. She'd have it written into the annulment agreement if necessary.

  In the meantime, there was shopping to be done.

  Sarah linked her arms through Charlotte's and Melanie's, winked at Aurora, and said, "In that case, we'd best get to shopping. We've the perfect centerpiece to find, and I've the feeling it is sitting in a shop somewhere here in Bruton Street."

  Half an hour later, they found a centerpiece that put the epergne to shame. Busy congratulating the girls for their wondrous find, Sarah literally ran into an old friend.

  "Lady Weston," Lord Trevor Chambers said as he took her arm and prevented a fall. A wide smile wreathed his face. "I heard you were here in the West End buying up half of London. Is it true your coachman had to return to Weston House once already today to unload packages to make room for more?"

  "Trev—I mean, Lord Chambers. How delightful to see you."

  "Acting the proper lady, I see." He bowed over her hand. "When in London, as they say, and all that rot."

  "My lord," she scolded. "Please."

  Then, turning to the girls, she said, "Lord Chambers, may I present my sisters-in-law and dear friends, Lady Charlotte Ross, Lady Melanie Ross, and Lady Aurora Ross."

  Charmer that he was, Trevor made a to-do over the girls. Like most females meeting Trevor for the first time, the three girls were immediately smitten.

  At least, they were smitten until they grew suspicious. That happened the moment Trevor leaned over, pressed a kiss to Sarah's cheek, and said, "Did you young ladies know that Sarah and I were once informally engaged to wed? Now that I hear she's fin
ally seeking an annulment, I hope to convince her to reconsider the question."

  Being kissed by a chimney sweep on your wedding day brings good luck.

  Chapter 17

  London was abuzz with talk of the upcoming engagement ball at Weston House. In parlors and clubs all across the city, those recently returned to town in preparation for the opening of Parliament and the approaching social season speculated, surmised, and supposed about this, the first notable social event of the year.

  The attractions of the topic were many. While the fourth Marquess of Weston had hosted a musical for Lady Charlotte's come-out the previous year and then a few small, low-key events before her doomed nuptials, he had never before given a ball. People were curious.

  Lady Pratt did all she could to stir that particular soup, too. She dropped broad hints all over town about the food, the decorations, the guest list, and—what interested people most of all—the hostess.

  The mysterious Lady Weston. Rumors about her abounded. She had yet to appear at any social functions, although those who had occasion to meet her at various shops about town spoke favorably of her. She was said to be beautiful, witty, and charming, and she apparently dealt quite well with the marquess's trio of sisters—no easy task.

  With the approach of the ball, interest heightened as privately repeated hearsay claimed Lady Weston shared a past with at least one gentleman of the ton not her husband. Speculation ran rampant. By the time guests donned evening suits and ball gowns to attend the event, odds on a relationship having existed between the lady and Lord Chambers and between the lady and Lord Robert Endicott, both recently returned to England from the States, were evenly divided.

  "Busybody peahens," Nick muttered, reflecting on the rumors while he waited in the grand entrance hall of his townhouse for the women in his life to join him downstairs to await their guests' arrival. He'd expected the volume of gossip—nothing like a bit of new blood in the mix to stir matters up. What he didn't anticipate was just how much that gossip would bother him.

  Nick didn't appreciate the fact that those two men had courted his wife back in Texas. He especially didn't care for the idea that both Endicott and Chambers appeared to be taking advantage of the quite public annulment proceedings to renew their acquaintance with Sarah. Half a dozen times now he'd come home to find one or the other—and sometimes both—ensconced in his parlor, taking tea and indulging in flirtation.

  The fact that his investigation into the bombing plot meant he couldn't throw them bodily out his front door made the situation all the more untenable. Never before had service to the Crown seemed quite so... nauseating, not even the time the Kualistanis had fed him goat's eyes for supper.

  Oh, he'd done what he could to impede the bombing conspiracy suspects' progress, mostly by pretending to be their friend. Following his loss of professional demeanor with Chambers during that first meeting, he'd had to work to make that one appear believable, but he'd succeeded, using a mixture of lies and half-truths that appeared to satisfy Lord Lovesick. Nick suspected Chambers was happy to believe Nick represented no rival for the lady's affections, and thus failed to delve beneath the surface of their newfound "friendship."

  Endicott hadn't proved as easy. While Chambers obviously lusted after Sarah, Nick believed Endicott wanted something else from Nick's wife. Much of an espionage agent's success depended upon his making an accurate judgment of a person's character, and that experience was telling Nick that Endicott was after more than romance. What he feared most was that it was somehow connected to the jubilee plot.

  Nick wanted to pack his women off to Glencoltran or another safe spot even farther away while he uncovered the truth about the conspiracy, but they wouldn't hear of it. In hindsight, he should have left them in Scotland. Whatever made him think he could keep his family separate from this business when Sarah attracted men like bees to honey?

  And after tonight, that would only get worse. Up until now, she knew only the men from Texas—and shopkeepers. Nick had never known a woman so enamored of the entire shopping process. But once the gentlemen of English society laid eyes oh her at tonight's ball, his parlor was bound to be the most popular place in London.

  "Add my sisters into the mix, and the problem grows exponentially," he grumbled, scowling at the portrait of a Weston ancestor hanging on the wall. He'd handled this marriage business poorly from the beginning, and now he was paying for it. If these hounds didn't know that the state of his marriage was less than perfect, they wouldn't be on the hunt. But when Nick had started down this particular path, he had expected his marriage would be perfect by now. He never would have guessed that after all these weeks Sarah would still be a virgin bride and the annulment would still be working its way through the legal system.

  Slowly. Much more slowly than Sarah suspected. Nick felt a little more guilty about that every day. She had asked for time—well, she didn't have a clue about how much time the English court system was prepared to give her. Every time she asked, he dodged the question. If she discovered the truth before she decided to stay with him, he feared there would be hell to pay.

  When he decided to make their marriage public, Nick never expected the seduction of Sarah, Lady Weston, would take place at a snail's pace. He never would have guessed he'd quit pursuing her, either. Not once he'd made the decision to make her his wife in all aspects of the word.

  But he had quit chasing her outright. Since their night of milk and cookies, he'd stayed away from her chamber, away from the Pillow Book, and away from any behavior that could be perceived as flirtatious. He was trying his best to give her the power to make her own decision. As much power as the legal system would allow, anyway.

  Still, no matter what the English courts said, Sarah always had the option of returning to Texas and securing an annulment there. She'd be free.

  He would not.

  At this point, Nick didn't think that would matter. While he still wanted a home and children of his own, he now had a difficult time imagining living that dream with any woman but Sarah.

  If he did something now to lose her, he deserved to lose the dream.

  So tomorrow, in the spirit of her request, he would ignore the blackguards who would come to call on his wife. This evening, no matter how lovely she looked in her ball gown and how much he ached to waltz her into the garden and have his wicked way with her beneath the starlit sky, he would not do it.

  Right now, however, before the guests began arriving, he should probably toss back a bracing whisky. Something told him he'd need fortifying tonight.

  The prospect of making some progress toward uncovering the jubilee plot was the only part of the evening that Nick anticipated with any pleasure. Both Endicott and Chambers were expected to attend the ball, and Nick had plans for them that might eliminate one man as a suspect. The socializing part of the upcoming evening made him think fondly of remote Himalayan slopes.

  To make matters worse, even after this he still had the wedding and Melanie's come-out to endure. And wouldn't it be just his luck for her to be a roaring success and wind up in love and wanting to marry?

  He shuddered at the thought. "I'll have to make it a condition of her debut," he murmured. "No wedding for at least a year."

  It would be the best thing for her, anyway. In hindsight, he and Sarah had married too quickly. They didn't know each other well enough, so at the first sign of trouble, the marriage fell apart. If he had known her better before the wedding night, he'd have anticipated her... reticence. If she'd known him better, she would have trusted him when Susan's father came pounding at their door.

  She would trust him now.

  Because of his own past mistakes, Nick could feel justified in demanding his younger sisters have long engagements. That way—

  He broke off the thought abruptly. Younger sisters. Aurora. Right after Melanie came Aurora. He'd be going through this misery with two more sisters after Charlotte, and he'd been blocking that ugly truth from his mind.

&nbs
p; That reality had him burying his head in his hands with a groan. Maybe he should give in to Aurora's whining and let her make her bow at the same time as Melanie. No matter her reasons, he had seen her kissing Willie Hart. Enthusiastically. He might be well served to marry her off while he still could.

  But no, she was too young to marry. She was the same age as Sarah when the two of them had wed, and look at the trouble that had caused. She needed at least another two years.

  If Nick was lucky, he might hold her back for one. He simply needed to stay on guard.

  A sound from above him caught his attention, and as he turned his gaze toward the staircase, he completely lost the ability to breathe. "Aurora?"

  She wore a white tulle dress trimmed with artificial snow drops. The fashionable cut of the gown clung to luscious curves he'd never before noticed she possessed. Her hair was up, her pearl earrings dangled. She looked beautiful and sophisticated and all grown up.

  Nick's stomach sank. Even as the thought occurred to send her to change her dress, Melanie joined her younger sister on the staircase landing. Now Nick's neck constricted. Melanie's dress was sunset gold silk that clung like a second skin and had no shoulders. He'd no sooner managed a growl than those two were joined by the bride-to-be. Charlotte was dressed in a patterned gown of small four-leaf clovers against an ice-white background. The sparkle in her eyes reminded him of fire. She looked lush and lovely and... ready. His growl transformed to a groan. His sisters would start a riot.

  Nick began to round toward the door, determined to lock his sisters in and the rogues of London out. Just as he toned his head, he caught a glimpse of movement next to Charlotte, a flash of golden temptation that kept him frozen in place.

  "Sarah." He couldn't say anymore because his tongue was tied in a dozen different knots. He'd never seen such a glorious sight.

  Dressed in a shimmering gown of sunshine-colored silk, his wife simply glowed. She was the sun, the moon, the stars wrapped up in a single package. She was every magnificent setting he'd seen in his worldwide travels tied up with a bow.