Was now the wife of Rupert Stirling, the Duke of Stratton.
A fact that was brought home to her even further as first Genevieve and then Benedict offered their congratulations, although both of them politely refused Rupert’s invitation to dine with them at Stratton House later that evening, Benedict with a definite twinkle in his eye as he slapped his friend warmly on the back, Genevieve choosing to accompany him from the church.
Pandora gazed after the other couple speculatively as they appeared to chat easily together. ‘You don’t suppose …?’
‘I try not to make suppositions about my friends, Pandora,’ Rupert teased.
And Pandora had no more time for speculation as Rupert took a firm hold of her arm and escorted her to their carriage, seeing her safely seated before joining her in what was now the Duke and Duchess of Stratton’s carriage.
It had all happened so quickly that it still seemed unreal to Pandora, a dream from which she might awaken, only to find she was still just Pandora Maybury, the disgraced widow of Barnaby Maybury, rather than Pandora Stirling, the wife and Duchess of the Duke of Stratton.
‘Are you cold?’ Rupert put his arm lightly about her shoulders to draw her into his side as he saw her shiver. ‘Perhaps you’re not as recovered from your ordeal of yesterday as you earlier assured me that you were?’
‘I am quite well, thank you, Rupert.’ She looked up at him uncertainly from beneath thick lashes.
‘Perhaps I should ascertain that to my own satisfaction—and yours, I hope—once we are safely returned to Stratton House?’ he suggested throatily.
Pandora felt the warmth of the blush that now coloured her cheeks. ‘If you think it necessary.’
‘At this moment it feels as necessary to me as breathing!’ His arm tightened about her shoulders as he drew her even closer against him.
‘And I’d certainly not wish to be the reason for your suffering a lack of breath.’ She laughed.
‘If I don’t kiss you very soon, Pandora, that may sadly be the case,’ he said fiercely.
She placed her hand upon his chest as she raised her face to accept his kiss, at once able to feel the way that his heart was beating rapidly in his chest. As was her own!
She was now Rupert’s wife. A much-admired and coveted gentleman, whom any woman of the ton might consider herself truly blessed to call her husband. For all of her initial trepidation in accepting Rupert’s marriage proposal, Pandora knew that she felt a certain pride in his having chosen her to be that woman.
As Rupert continued to kiss her with a passion which held the promise of a repeat of last night’s pleasure, Pandora wondered if she was about to find her very own happy-ever-after, after all, and in the arms of the most unlike-liest of men …
A hope which was dashed only a few minutes later as Rupert, having swept a bemused Pandora up into his arms as she alighted from the carriage, then proceeded to carry her over the threshold of Stratton House the moment the butler held the door open for them to enter.
‘I thought I had made my feelings more than plain yesterday evening about you bringing that woman into my home.’ Patricia Stirling’s unmistakably chilling tones cut disdainfully into their happy laughter.
Chapter Fourteen
Rupert scowled and all humour left his visage as he continued to hold Pandora firmly in his arms. He nodded dismissal of the butler, waiting for the older man to leave before he turned his cold and icy-grey gaze upon his father’s widow, as she posed to what she no doubt considered her best advantage in the open doorway of the gold salon. ‘“That woman”, as you so rudely call her, is now my own Duchess of Stratton.’
Patricia’s beautiful face twisted into an expression of disbelief before becoming one of murderous rage as she glared at Pandora, her eyes glittering with that same malevolence. ‘You have actually married a woman who is not only a known adulteress, but was also responsible for the death of her husband?’
Rupert heard Pandora draw in a shaky breath as she stiffened in his arms, but he dared not look down at her now, knew that seeing the hurt she suffered at Patricia’s deliberate and calculated viciousness would be his undoing. Instead he continued to hold her tightly to his chest as he concentrated his chilling attention on the Dowager Duchess. ‘You will not address my wife in that derogatory manner or tone, madam.’
Patricia gave an unpleasant cackle of laughter. ‘You have actually married a woman whom dozens of other gentleman of the ton have already bedded? The same gentlemen you might meet at your club every day and who will laugh behind your back to know they had her first? Your new bride is a woman who so publicly and repeatedly cuckolded her first husband that he was forced to fight a duel to the death over her?’
‘I advise you to silence your wicked tongue, woman!’ Rupert advised harshly.
‘Why, you will be the laughing stock of the ton!’ Patricia ignored the warning as she continued to jeer. ‘How society will laugh when they learn that the arrogant, the oh-so-haughty Devil Stirling has been seduced, led by his manhood to the altar, by the infamous Pandora Maybury!’ She openly laughed in his face now. ‘What a wonderful, delicious joke you will become, Rupert!’
If he’d had a free hand at that moment Rupert would quite cheerfully have slapped the woman’s face. Not on his own behalf—the ton could say what they liked about him, and be damned with it—but for the vicious way in which she insulted Pandora with her every word.
That she did so deliberately he had no doubt. Patricia did everything with deliberation and purpose, from seducing him to then seducing his father when Rupert had proved elusive to the parson’s mousetrap. He realised that she was now intent upon causing a rift in his marriage before it had even begun.
‘Would you please put me down, Rupert?’
He looked down concernedly as Pandora made the polite request, the first words she had spoken since Patricia began her vicious assault. ‘It is my intention to carry you up the stairs to the privacy of our bedchamber.’
‘Perhaps later. First you will put me down, please, Rupert.’ She looked up at him steadily as she firmly repeated her request.
Rupert frowned darkly as he slowly lowered Pandora to the floor of the marbled hallway until she stood on her own two satin-slippered feet, his arm moving about the slenderness of her waist as she straightened her gown and bonnet before looking up at the older woman.
Pandora smiled reassuringly at Rupert before she turned to the older woman. ‘You are right in your surmise that in the past Rupert may have suffered a certain amount of … conjecture from the ton regarding the women he was previously known to associate with,’ she spoke quietly, but with a complete sense of purpose, knowing full well what Patricia was up to—and determined not to give her the satisfaction of knowing how much her accusations had wounded her, as they were also intended to insult Rupert, at the same time planting doubts in his mind as to the wisdom of his actions.
Pandora’s own confidence now relied heavily upon the fact that Rupert had assured her he knew exactly what he was doing by choosing to make her his wife, his Duchess. She had also warned him, on several occasions, of the ridicule he risked bringing down about his own head if he married her, warnings he had summarily dismissed.
With those things in mind, she had no intention of allowing Patricia Stirling’s vicious tongue to drive a barrier between the two of them before they had been married for so much as a single day.
‘But really, in this situation, is it not a case of “people in glass houses”?’ Pandora reasoned sweetly.
The other woman looked ready to explode. ‘How dare you?’
‘Oh, I believe if you were ever to know me better, which I am sure neither of us wishes for …’ Pandora shrugged gracefully ‘… then you would find that I would dare rather a lot. Indeed, I do believe that my first instruction, as the new Duchess of Stratton, must be to ask you to remove yourself from Stratton House. For all our sakes.’
The other woman’s face became a mottled red, those blue
eyes bulging. ‘Why, you—you bitch! How dare you presume to tell me what to do and where I must go?’
Pandora sighed at this continued unpleasantness. ‘I’m trying to be reasonable about this—’
Patricia glared. ‘Why, you puffed-up little upstart!’
‘Obviously I’m wasting my time in trying to remain polite,’ Pandora replied in a bored tone.
‘In my opinion you’re wasting your time altogether!’ Patricia gave a scathing snort. ‘How can you possibly expect or hope to hold the attention of a man as experienced and jaded as Rupert? You cannot!’ she announced gleefully. ‘Not if you were to dance naked in front of him for a fortnight!’
This last taunt was a little too close for comfort to Pandora’s own feelings of inadequacy in the bedchamber, but she had no intention of allowing Patricia to know her poisonous dart had hit its target so precisely. ‘How utterly uninspiring that would be!’ Her tone had hardened at the other woman’s persistence in insulting her. ‘It is my opinion that a gentleman prefers a little … elusiveness, a certain mystery, in the woman on whom he bestows his interest. Any young and virile gentleman, at least; I am sure a gentleman of mature, perhaps even impotent years, shall we say, would be far less difficult to please?’
Rupert had feared for Pandora just a few minutes ago, believing that Patricia intended, and would succeed if he did not verbally restrain her, in ripping Pandora to shreds with her viciousness. But once again Pandora had surprised him by continuing to maintain her own dignity in the face of Patricia’s unpleasantness.
The slight trembling of Pandora’s body against his arm told Rupert that she was nowhere near as calm as her outward demeanour so determinedly implied, her cheeks now the colour of ivory, those violet eyes having deepened to a haunted purple. And yet he also knew, by the stubborn set of her raised chin and the determination in her gaze, that Pandora would not, under any circumstances—no matter the insult—back down from this face-to-face confrontation with the viper standing in front of her.
‘Are you going to just stand there and let this woman insult your own father without a word of defence from you?’ Patricia turned to demand of him.
Rupert raised mocking brows. ‘You are referring to my wife, madam, the Duchess of Stratton. And whether or not Pandora’s remark was an insult must surely depend upon whether or not there was any truth to it? If there is, then I cannot see how it can be called an insult.’
Patricia looked incensed. ‘For your information your father was more than capable of—’
‘Perhaps that is a little too much information to relate to his son, Dowager Duchess?’ Pandora put in with soft reproof. ‘Most especially when it is known that you shared the bed of that son before you did that of the father.’
The older woman’s hands curled into claws. ‘You know nothing of my relationship with Devil—’
‘I believe Rupert has confided in me enough for me to know that it wasn’t “a relationship” at all,’ Pandora continued. ‘It was, after all, only a matter of a few weeks’ fun on Rupert’s part. A soldier home on leave from the war, battle-scarred and weary, and eager to enjoy all and everything that was offered to him.’
As a set-down it was superb and Rupert knew he could not have bettered it himself if he’d tried. But he had no need to try, when Pandora was so obviously capable, and determined, to defend both herself, and him, so ably.
A sentiment Patricia might not particularly like, but so obviously recognised. ‘As long as you are made aware that Rupert has only married you in a desperate effort to be rid of me?’ she taunted.
‘How very brave of you to openly acknowledge as much.’ Pandora gave the other woman a gracious smile. ‘I do so admire honesty in a person.’
‘Keep your admiration for someone who may appreciate it!’ The Dowager Duchess glowered at her before turning to Rupert. ‘On better acquaintance, I believe the two of you may actually deserve each other!’
‘It is to be hoped so.’ Once again Rupert drew Pandora against his side and smiled down at her before glancing back at his father’s widow. ‘Do you require any help with your packing?’
Patricia drew herself up frostily. ‘I believe I am perfectly capable of making my own arrangements for moving to the Dower House, thank you.’
‘Then I suggest you do so—now!’ There was no mistaking the dangerous edge to Rupert’s tone as he looked at her coldly. ‘Now, if you will excuse us?’ He bent and swept Pandora back up into his arms. ‘My wife and I were about to retire to our bedchamber for several hours before dinner.’ He deliberately turned his back on his father’s widow as he strode across the hallway and began climbing the stairs, all the time aware of how Pandora’s trembling had deepened, obviously in reaction to the viciousness of the confrontation she had just endured. ‘Hold on just a few seconds more and we will have reached the privacy of our bedchamber,’ he murmured softly, so that only Pandora could hear him.
Pandora’s trembling increased at the mention of ‘our bedchamber’, their light-hearted flirtation of earlier all but forgotten with all that had followed; she certainly did not feel like that expectant bride of a few short minutes ago! Rather, she had been given another reminder, by Patricia Stirling of all people, of exactly why Rupert had married her. The only reason he had married her.
Rupert frowned down at Pandora as she gave a deep and heartfelt sigh as he entered their bedchamber and kicked the door closed behind him before placing her gently down upon the bed to sit down beside her. ‘What is it?’
She gave a wan smile. ‘I believe I am feeling rather … fatigued, with that unpleasant scene following so quickly on the events of last night and today.’
Rupert could have kicked himself for his lack of sensitivity; of course Pandora was feeling fatigued. She had narrowly escaped being burnt alive only hours ago, before being made love to until she attained a shattering climax. Only to then find herself married hours later and finally returning here to be insulted by the previous mistress of his bed and this house. The three former things were traumatic enough, but he believed the latter would have had most new brides screaming obscenities at him rather than expressing exhaustion!
He turned on the side of the bed before reaching out to gently untie and put aside her bonnet and smooth the hair back from Pandora’s temples, allowing him to touch the tiny blue veins visible beneath the delicacy of her skin. He could also see the purple shadows of exhaustion beneath those lovely violet eyes. ‘I believe you’re right and it might be for the best if you were to rest here for a while before dinner.’ He smiled encouragement. ‘After all, we have the rest of our lives to enjoy being married to each other.’
‘And will we enjoy being married to each other, do you think?’
Rupert looked down at her searchingly, the uncertainty in her expression unmistakable. ‘Is it possible you already regret marrying me?’
She released a shaky sigh. ‘I merely wonder if we have done the right thing in acting so hastily.’
As unflattering as Pandora’s uncertainty now was, Rupert could not exactly blame her for feeling that way. How could he, when she had been so roundly insulted only minutes after their wedding had taken place? Insults which she had not only successfully fended off, but had done so in such a way as not to lose her own sense of dignity, which he admired so much. But at what inner cost to Pandora herself?
‘Perhaps we should wait a little longer before making any decision in that regard,’ he teased gently.
She gave another sigh. ‘We seem to have rid you of Patricia Stirling’s presence here, at least.’
Rupert looked down at her admiringly. ‘You were magnificent just now, Pandora.’
She blinked up at him. ‘I was?’
He grinned. ‘I could not have dealt with the situation better myself.’
She gave a wan smile. ‘High praise indeed!’
Rupert gave her a mock frown. ‘I will have you know that I am known far and wide for the haughtiness of my set-downs.’
> ‘Oh, I can believe that.’ Pandora smiled slightly as some of her earlier numbness started to thaw. ‘If we don’t take care, we will very quickly earn the reputation of being “those high-and-mighty Strattons”!’
‘I already have it on reliable authority that I am in possession of an “arrogant nose”, which I apparently use in order to look down at the people who annoy or irritate me,’ he drawled.
‘And so you do!’ Pandora could feel her sense of humour returning as they talked so easily together. After all, whatever the reason for it, this was her wedding day, Rupert was her husband, and for tonight at least, this would be their bridal chamber. ‘Perhaps I am not feeling so fatigued, after all …’ Her cheeks began to warm as she heard the husky invitation in her voice.
Rupert’s hand stilled against her temple, golden lashes fringing narrowed grey eyes as he looked down at her intently for several long seconds. ‘Perhaps …’ He paused, as if seeking the right words. ‘Last night was traumatic for both of us. Would it relax you to laze in a soothing bath and then for the two of us to rest here together before dinner?’
Pandora’s heart began to beat loudly in her chest. ‘I believe I should like that very much indeed.’
‘I will ring for the hot water to be brought upstairs.’ His eyes darkened to the colour of a stormy sky. ‘Shall I act as your maid again?’
Pandora smiled shyly. ‘Perhaps we might—attend each other …?’
Rupert was very aware, despite her denials just now, that she was in fact very weary from all that had happened to her since the fire last night. Just as he was also aware that his own lack of physical release when they had been together last night meant his self-control was not all it should or could be.
The former meant that Pandora was in all probability far too tired for lovemaking just now. Just as Rupert was unsure if he could help her bathe, or share a bed with her, without making love to her!
But he was certainly willing to try, believing he would enjoy watching her bathe and then climbing into bed beside her before the two of them drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms.
Some Like It Wicked (Mills & Boon Historical) (Daring Duchesses - Book 1) Page 17