by Jenna Jaxon
“I am most pleased to make your acquaintance, Lady Juliet,” she said, nodding to her and then to Lord Trevor, who stood just behind the two. “I am also pleased to see you again, Lord Trevor.”
“I assure you, Lady Katarina, the pleasure is indeed all mine. I did not have a chance to commend you on your fencing abilities this morning. They are truly remarkable.” He turned eyes full of merriment to Lord Dalbury. “Duncan has seen good fortune shine on him, to wed a woman with beauty, wit and a wicked shoulder cut.” His words were teasing, but true admiration for her skills shone in them.
“You are too kind, my lord.” She grinned at him. His good humor was infectious. “I pray that you too find a wife as skilled with a sword.”
“Alas, I fear you are the sole flower in London’s garden of delights with such exotic talents. I am afraid I shall have to manage with an ordinary rose or shy violet instead.”
“When you find her, bring her to me and I will see that she transforms from shy violet into a tiger lily at least.”
Trevor laughed and shook his head. “You shall have her as soon as I locate her.” He shot an amused glance at Dalbury. “I think I shall go keep a lookout for Tommy. Before I get myself into trouble.” He bowed and left the room, still shaking his head.
A bit more at ease now, Kat turned to Lady Juliet. “I fear your brother has likewise kept me in the dark about you.” She arched an eyebrow at Dalbury. “I knew he had a sister, but nothing more.”
The marquess looked unabashed. “I am sorry there was not time to inform you about my family, my dear. With our hurried courtship there has been no time to talk at all.”
“Well, I do not blame you for not talking to Duncan any more than you can help it, my dear,” Juliet said, and cut a sly look at her brother. “For he will spout facts and figures, or horses and hounds, or guns and...and...”
“Grapeshot?” Dalbury quipped, earning a soft slap on his arm from Juliet.
“I did not address you, sir!” she said with a playful, injured sniff. She waved him away and grasped Kat’s hands. “I mean to suggest that my brother talks only of the most uninteresting things. Not a jot of gossip does he pass on to me, and as for scandal, well...” She paused, glanced over at her brother and sobered. “He does not care to relate that either, though with good reason.” Her mood changed like quicksilver back to the carefree spirit. “So you see, I shall be so glad to have you with us now, for we can talk about the latest fashions, and entertain each other and go about together, quite like sisters, don’t you think?”
“Thank you, Lady Juliet.” She could not help but smile. “I am so lately come to London that I do not know anyone except my brother and, of course...” she paused, weighed her words. “Your brother. So I am sorely in need of guidance where society is concerned.”
Before Juliet could go into raptures at the prospect, Jack appeared at Kat’s side. “My lady, may I present my brother, John, Lord Manning? But,” she whispered, “I just call him Jack.”
Juliet smiled broadly and curtsied. “I am so pleased, Lord Manning. May I call you Jack as well? Since we are to be in-laws, we shouldn’t be formal, do you think?”
The twinkle in Jack’s eyes revealed he was as captivated as she by Dalbury’s sister. “Nothing would give me more pleasure,” he replied. “Jack it is. And you must call my sister Kat.” His look said she was sauce for the goose.
“Kat! Oh, how lovely! Is that what you call her, Duncan?”
The room suddenly hushed as Dalbury paused. What could she say if he took that liberty now as his right?
Taking his time, Dalbury moved from the fireplace where he’d stood observing them. He crossed toward the door and stopped just before opening it. “Until now, Juliet, I thought it best to address Lady Katarina with all the respect due to her. After we are married, perhaps such formality will no longer be necessary.”
His words seemed to throw a pall over the company. Jack and Juliet continued to talk quietly, but Kat returned to the window and the now setting sun. Juliet had been an agreeable surprise, but could not compensate for the fact she was about to tie herself for life to a man she now barely respected and wholly mistrusted. If only the possibility existed he could change, that one day she might believe in him, then perhaps... Though determined not to go down a road of useless hoping, she would proceed with the ceremony, of course. But she did not have to like it. And she would make sure Dalbury didn’t either.
Chapter 18
All too soon, the door opened and the minister entered in his black coat, white neckcloth and long stole. Kat’s heart thumped wildly in her breast, perhaps loud enough for the others to hear. But no one seemed to pay her any mind, and she took a deep breath to steady herself. She could do this. She would do this. There was no alternative. Her hands knotted into fists and she forced herself to relax them. Although the calm reasoning of earlier had fled, she vowed not to show the marquess her true feelings.
The clergyman entered, followed by Dalbury, whose dark eyes glittered in the candlelight. One look at his mouth, set in a straight, impassive line and her courage deserted her. Jack would have to fight him after all. She couldn’t do this. Couldn’t marry this stranger. Her breathing sped up into rapid little pants. Might fainting actually be a good thing? A fainting spell would stall the wedding for some time.
Reginald Matthews entered behind them, and somehow his presence grounded her as nothing else could have done. Whatever quality he possessed that calmed her, she blessed him for it. She exhaled slowly, and as Reginald neared, smiled and extended her hand.
“I was afraid I would be too late, my lady. I was held up at Bow Street an ungodly length of time.” He smiled back, raising her hand to his lips.
“Have I pulled you away from some interesting case?” she teased gently.
“Nothing could interest me more than your welfare.” He lowered his voice. “Are you sure you are well? I swear you needn’t go through with this wedding. I will...”
She put a hand on his arm. Telling him of the revelations would do no good, might even make him more determined to stop the marriage. Sadly, she could not allow that to happen. “I must do this, Reginald. Not just to save you and Jack from sure death,”–he made an impatient gesture as she continued steadily–“but because I gave him my word. Men must believe women creatures with no sense of honor,” she admonished him. “Do you think our word is worth less than your own? I must do the honorable thing and marry Lord Dalbury.” Her smile deepened. “And I thank you for coming to see me through it. Your presence means more to me than you might believe.”
“If you ever have need of me for anything, Katarina, anything at all, promise me you will seek me out.”
“I promise. But I hope my life will settle down now. I have just met Lord Dalbury’s sister, Lady Juliet, and I believe she will prove a cheerful influence.” She turned as Dalbury approached.
“Matthews.” He managed to make the single word civil, despite an underlying tone of hostility. “Good of you to come.” The expectant gleam in his eyes made her stomach plummet. It was time. “My lady, your aunt was unable to attend, but the rest of the party is here. Are you ready?”
She squared her shoulders and nodded, then took the arm he offered. As he led her toward Jack at the back of the room, still in conversation with Juliet, he said in a voice pitched only for her ears, “Lady Katarina, I beg of you, do not approach this event as you would a firing squad.”
Was he jesting, at such an inappropriate moment? No, his countenance appeared sober. “I had no idea I appeared anything but pleasant. I will strive to keep a more appropriate expression throughout the evening.”
Dalbury sighed. “It is not your face of which I speak, but what I fear you hold in your heart. You may not come to your wedding with joy, although I thought from your words earlier you did not come to it with dread.” He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Can you not trust me just a little? I swear to you it will never be my intention to hurt you.” His eyes aga
in held that look of misery at her obvious distrust.
For a long moment her heart beat wildly in her chest. He sounded so sincere. As he had all along. That nagging thought settled the question and she drew armor around her heart.
They reached Jack and he took her arm as Juliet leaned over to whisper, “Duncan has asked me to stand as witness. Is that not wonderful? Then we will truly be sisters in all but blood, don’t you think?”
She made herself nod agreeably at Juliet, wishing she could be as enthusiastic about her wedding. “It is wonderful. I am very glad you are with me today.” She spoke the bald truth–Juliet would never know just how much her presence helped.
Now on Jack’s arm, she marched toward the fireplace, where Lord Dalbury stood with the Reverend Hayes and Mr. Redmond, who had put in an appearance at last. Redmond appeared all in, from blood-shot eyes to unsteady feet, but he was standing and seemed mostly sober.
Kat straightened her shoulders, clutching Jack’s arm in a death grip the length of the room. Her brother seemed reluctant to relinquish her when they finally stood together with Dalbury, but moved her hand from his arm to the marquess’s, kissed her cheek and whispered, “If the bastard hurts you I will kill him.”
She groaned. It was a little late for heroics from that quarter. Then she was standing arm in arm with Dalbury as Reverend Hayes began the service. The sound wafted over her, but she could not comprehend the words. Instead she was excruciatingly aware of Dalbury’s hand on hers, the soft, warm palm pressed against hers with a gentle grip. The hand she remembered well exploring her body, making her feel–
Her lungs suddenly seemed ready to explode. She was holding her breath. Releasing it with a little sigh, she dragged cool air in. She must focus. Find a way to get through the ceremony. The warmth of his hand stole through her, creating a flush of heat. Perhaps if she concentrated just on breathing.
Reverend Hayes continued to drone.
Staring straight ahead, Kat willed herself to remain calm. She’d survived Dalbury once before, she could get through this. But the night in the brothel had been mercifully short-lived; this marriage would last an eternity.
Dalbury said something, squeezed her hand. “My lady. Katarina.” His kind voice sounded urgent. “My lady, you must answer the question.”
Puzzled, she turned to him.
Dalbury nodded at the clergyman, who said, “Lady Katarina Fitzwilliam, will you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?” When her answer was still not forthcoming, Reverend Hayes placed a hand on her arm. “Lady Katarina, will you willingly take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
Ah, yes. They could no longer force a woman to marry someone. But she was not being forced. She had given her word. And if that one precious drop of blood had been Dalbury’s, she would this minute be on a ship for Virginia. He would not have reneged; in honor, neither could she.
A slight shake of her head to clear it, and she focused on the worried clergyman. In a voice that carried more strength and conviction than she would have believed she possessed, she said, “I will.” The rest of the ceremony seemed a blur, although she must have made the correct replies without additional prompting. Dalbury raised her hand and kissed it, the only signal to her that she was now the marchioness of Dalbury. Game over. The rogue had won.
Then Kat stood beside her new husband to receive best wishes from each of the small party, accepting them with as good a grace as she could muster. The jumble of sounds, colors, and images whirled, but at last the world began to settle down. Now that the deed was a fait accompli, she grew steadier. With the dreading over, somehow the thought of being married to Dalbury did not appear half as terrifying as the prospect of marrying him.
And he was as stuck with her as she was with him. He could not escape either, and she had already made plans to convince him that life with her would not be all to his liking. With that tantalizing idea in mind, a good deal of her composure returned. For the first time in what seemed like days, she was able to converse normally.
“I was worried there for a minute, Kat,” Juliet said, handing her a glass of champagne. “It seemed like you didn’t know who or where you were. That’s not good when you’re standing there being married, do you think?”
Kat forced a little laugh. “I fear, I was too caught up in the moment. One is only married once, you know.”
“If one can get married once!” Juliet pouted. “I fear I am never to be married.”
“But what can you mean, my dear?” While certainly possessing an unusual personality, Juliet was quite an eligible match. “I would have thought you had men falling to their knees, proposing at every dance you attend.”
“Oh no. I have been left at the altar once and am having the worst time finding another prospective husband.” Juliet’s pique, in less than demure tones, brought her brother to her side.
“You were hardly left at the altar. The man was in France and you were in England,” Dalbury corrected her with an unsympathetic grin.
“It was still quite perturbing, Duncan. And you have done nothing so far this season to find me another husband.” Juliet glared at him as if it was his fault.
“I have been occupied with my own concerns, if you have not noticed.” He moved to take Kat’s hand.
The siblings’ banter was reminiscent of her and Jack. If only she could have such a comfortable familiarity with the man who was now her husband. Still, he might prove different than the evidence suggested. He was obviously capable of agreeable moods, pleasing manners, sharp wit. All qualities she treasured in Jack.
He was not her brother, however, but her husband. And he loved Juliet. He did not love her.
Lord Dalbury’s motives for marrying her were to put an heir in his nursery and to ease the lust that had driven him buy her, unashamedly, in a brothel. She could see it, even now, as his hot gaze swept over her. He didn’t even have the good grace to disguise it in public.
At the touch of his hand, she froze. Was this it? Was it time for the final act of this dreary tragedy? Marshalling all her inner strength, she smiled first at Dalbury, then at Juliet. But no one else in the room had left yet.
“Shall we lead the party in to dinner, Lady Dalbury?” His tone suggested he thought she might refuse.
At the reprieve, she heaved a sigh of relief. “But of course, my lord. I was not aware of all the activities, but by all means let us ‘furnish forth the marriage table’. Though I suspect it will not be with funeral meats.”
To her surprise, laughter lit up his face, changing him into a different person. “You fancy Shakespeare? That may be just as well. Our mother, as you may have guessed from our names, was enamored of the Bard. I escaped with the rather ordinary Duncan. But Juliet has had to bear the brunt of it. Everyone seems to be able to quote that one wretched line, ‘But soft, what light through yonder window breaks? It is the East, and Juliet is the sun.’ She is quite outdone when a new swain accosts her with it, thinking he is the first to do so.”
Kat smiled in spite of herself, then asked, “If you would refresh my memory, my lord. Who was Duncan?”
He ducked his head, and looked embarrassed. “The trusting monarch killed by Macbeth and Lady Macbeth. I do hope I fair better than my namesake.” He paused at the door. “My lady.” He nodded to Juliet. “And gentlemen, we have prepared a wedding feast, if you would follow us to the dining room?”
* * * *
Though Kat thought she might choke if she ate a mouthful, she found conversation with Tommy Redmond, seated at her left, a surprisingly good distraction.
“Your brother says you are finding London to your liking, Lady Dalbury.” Dressed appropriately in fresh clothes and acting sober–though his bloodshot eyes seemed to belie sobriety–the young man smiled kindly at her. He seemed to want to make amends for his earlier behavior.
“I have had little opportunity to find London at all, Mr. Redmond. But I was not aware that you knew my brother.” Kat sipped her wine and look
ed him over, speculating. If he was a friend of Jack’s, perhaps he was not as bad as she’d thought.
“Yes, my lady. I am a member of your brother’s club and he has taken me under his wing, so to speak, advising me on the purchase of a pair of carriage horses.” He dropped his gaze to his plate. “He told me you are an avid rider.”
“That is true, I rode nearly every day until I came to London.” Katarina glanced up to see Lord Dalbury at the far end of the table stop his conversation with Reverend Hayes and send her a quick smile. And what did that mean? She wanted to do nothing to draw smiles from her husband. Another sip of wine, and she returned her attention to her dinner partner.
“Might I request the pleasure of your company on a ride one day this week, Lady Dalbury?” Redmond asked. “If it is convenient, of course. I am sure it will take you some days to settle comfortably into your new home.”
Kat raised her glass again, even more intrigued by her husband’s friend. Had she misjudged him? “That would be a pleasant outing. Perhaps we can make it a party with Jack and my sister-in-law?”
He beamed at her as though she had offered him a fortune. “A splendid idea.” But something in his eyes, a flare of disappointment, sent a chill down her back. Her good opinion of Tommy Redmond faded with that look. Married life was going to be complicated enough without her husband’s best friend trying to get her alone for a tryst. She might have misread that fleeting glance, but her instincts said no. He obviously knew her husband and assumed she would be in need of male companionship. Best to steer clear of assignations with Mr. Redmond.
Kat returned to pushing food around her plate, then answered a question from Lord Trevor, her right-hand dinner companion. The awkwardness of the moment dissipated as the charming viscount regaled her with his youngest sister’s trials with the social season, and she found herself relaxing in spite of her circumstances.
The remainder of the dinner proved uneventful, except when she forgot she was now hostess at Dalbury’s table and had to be prompted to rise and retire with Juliet. They had just ordered tea, when the men reappeared. Though there was some little conversation before the tea was served, almost immediately afterward Reverend Hayes moved to leave. Kat thanked the clergyman for his service then turned to say farewell to Reginald, who had also risen. She extended her hand, but rather than kiss it, he held her a little away from him. “I must take my leave of you, Lady Dalbury.”