To Make a Marriage

Home > Other > To Make a Marriage > Page 31
To Make a Marriage Page 31

by Cheryl Anne Porter


  Amused and amazed, Spencer affectionately touched his finger to the tip of his wife’s nose. “I really must have Miss Cicely teach me that trick, the one that gets you to behave.”

  With a playful, endearing lift of her chin, Victoria wrinkled her nose at him and said, sweetly, “Shut up, Spencer.”

  With that, and accompanied by his chuckle, she strutted, much like Jubal just had, after Miss Cicely. Spencer happily fell in step behind her, feasting his eyes on her sweetly swaying bottom as she sashayed through the parted crowd, which protectively, it seemed, closed in behind them.

  CHAPTER 19

  That sunny and pleasantly cool afternoon, the gala event at River’s End unfolded beautifully and without a hitch. Attired in a new gown of gray silk with lace trim and a modest hoop skirt … with a generous waistline … Victoria stood with Spencer in the shade of her favorite big oak, a tree she’d spent many a happy hour in her childhood playing under or climbing on—sometimes, to her mother’s horror, all the way to the top. In one hand, Victoria held a plate of the best barbecue River’s End had to offer. But it was possible only to pick at the food as she needed a free hand to offer in greeting to the staggering number of their well-wishers—all while also conducting a whispered argument with her husband, who was just then holding forth in a hissing whisper.

  “We were lucky that our little outing into the swamp this morning went undetected, Victoria. We are also lucky to have made it out alive, given the reptilian terrors lurking about, and even with Jubal’s help. So I see no reason to tempt fate again today by having my wife—forgive my indelicacy, but my pregnant wife—become a pawn in a madman’s game.”

  “Do you think I wish to be a pawn? I was not given a choice, Spencer.”

  “I understand that. But I will go in your stead.”

  “No you will not. You don’t know the city like I do, where he lives or—”

  “You will draw me a map, and I will go myself.”

  “Draw you a map? And how would I explain that to these hundred or so people here?”

  “I did not say you must gather a crowd around you and make an announcement of our intentions. We could retire to some discreet place for such an activity. But, really, Victoria, as a duchess, you must get past this need to explain yourself to people. You command, and they accept and obey.”

  “Not here, Spencer. These people have known me all my life. They’re not about to let me get away with sticking my nose in the air now.”

  “Be that as it may, you are a duchess, and they will treat you accordingly, or they will answer to me.”

  Though she secretly adored her husband for his stance regarding her, Victoria still felt on the verge of screaming her frustration with this arrogant peer of a man. If she had any gumption at all, she told herself, she would politely ask him to hold her plate while she shook the fool out of him. She knew, however, that all she would succeed in doing, given the difference in their sizes, would be to rattle her own eyeballs and teeth. “I swear to you, Spencer, you are the most maddening man I ever—”

  “I am maddening, madam? I am?”

  “Yes, you are. I promise you I do not know how much longer I can stand here. I want to toss this plate aside and run for the house and change my clothes and get on a horse—”

  “The madness continues.” Spencer sounded so long-suffering. “Get on a horse, Victoria? You? In your condition? No. Out of the question, madam.”

  When he called her “madam,” Victoria knew, his mind was closed. “I have been riding since I got here, Spencer.”

  “You what?” He was no longer whispering. “I haven’t seen you ride—”

  “Shh. Lower your voice. People will think we’re having a disagreement.”

  “We are having a disagreement, Victoria.”

  “We are not. Spencer, for heaven’s sake, be careful with your plate. And you, sir, have not seen me ride because you’ve been here only a week, during which time my every free moment has been spent nursing you.”

  “Only because you or others insist on bashing me over the head with heavy objects. And also because your dog attacked me.”

  She ignored that. It wasn’t really relevant right now. “Before you arrived, I had gone out riding with my father and brother. It’s one of my favorite pastimes, so I could hardly tell them no when they asked me to go, now could I?”

  “You risked your health and our child by riding a horse—a creature that could throw you and injure you?”

  Offended, Victoria stood taller. “Our horses don’t throw people. They’re very well behaved. Besides, Miss Cicely said it wouldn’t hurt the baby.”

  Spencer stared at her. “Well, then, there’s the final authority for us.”

  “Don’t you dare say anything about her, Spencer. She’ll know if you do. You, of all people, after this morning, ought to be aware of her gifts. If she says I won’t lose it, I won’t lose it. And furthermore, I don’t wish to speak with you anymore right now.”

  “Fine by me,” Spencer griped, stabbing his fork into a hunk of shredded pork and poking it into his mouth. As he chewed—Victoria saw the angry flexing of his jaw—he stared off over the grounds and ignored her.

  It was just as well. Angry beyond belief herself, Victoria somehow still managed to smile radiantly and nod her head politely as various aunts, uncles, cousins, her friends and her parents’ friends—all well-heeled guests from among Savannah society’s elite ranks—strolled by and sent further congratulations her and Spencer’s way. All he did was glare and chew.

  Earlier, her father had offered the formal toasts and announcements—as much as daring anyone present to have an ill word to say about his daughter or the scandal that had sent her across an ocean. Certainly, she had returned in triumph, the wife of a duke and a mother-to-be. She and Spencer had decided not to tell anyone yet the sex of the baby. How would they explain how they knew that? At any rate, Victoria was once again accepted into the circle of family and friends—although one part of her still wanted to tell everyone present that she hadn’t given one whit for what they’d thought of her before. But that sentiment, she knew, was a sleeping dog best left undisturbed.

  And so the afternoon had worn on until now. While the guests relaxed and visited and ate, they strolled the grounds and renewed friendships or just chatted and gossiped. All around, exuberant children ran to and fro, their happy, or unhappy, shrieks punctuating the adult conversations.

  “Perhaps I spoke hastily,” Spencer blurted into the angry silence between him and Victoria. “I have the utmost respect for Miss Cicely’s abilities”—he said this loudly, as if he believed his conciliatory words would carry on the air all the way to Miss Cicely, who would then not curse him—“and I can readily see that you are in excellent health, Victoria. But, call me a fool for wishing to keep you thus. Along those lines—Oh, hello, there,” Spencer said through the gritted teeth of his smile as he bowed to an elderly, cherubic, white-haired Southern matriarch who set about regaling him with her dislike of the British, all while offering her congratulations on his and Victoria’s marriage and their coming happy event.

  As she was hustled away by her embarrassed daughter, the woman’s parting shot was what a handful Victoria had always been for her parents. Spencer agreed heartily with her and turned to Victoria, who, incensed, watched the old horse leave. “My point, Victoria, is we are the guests of honor and the focus of unrelenting attention. Given that, how the devil are we going to get away without our absence being noticed?”

  A sharp hopeful feeling had Victoria looking at her husband. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying I know you well enough to know there is no way I can stop you. The best I can hope to do is arm myself, choose a faster horse, and get there before you.”

  He was going to help her. Relieved, Victoria smiled broadly. “You cannot arrive ahead of me, faster horse or no. You don’t know where you’re going.”

  Spencer smiled into her eyes, showing her quite plainly the
angry lights still remained there. “Dammit it all to hell, Victoria, you will tell me—”

  “Oh, my word, there they are! I’ve been looking for them.”

  Obviously confused by her quick—and intentional—change of subject, Spencer looked around. “For whom? Where?”

  “Mr. and Mrs. John Howell. His wife, Gwen, is my cousin. They are such wonderful people. Very prominent and gracious. I want you to meet them. They’re over there on those benches with my great-aunt, Mrs. Helen Clifton—an absolute dear of a woman who could run the world, given one second’s head start. Oh, and there’s her brother, Mr. Bailey Carpenter, with her. You see him—that sweet-faced little gentleman with the white hair. Why, you’d think he was the mayor, so many people know and love him. I’ll just go get them.”

  Spencer gripped her elbow and pulled her back to him. “No you won’t, Victoria. Don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to. The moment you’re not at my side, you’d be gone to Savannah without me in half a flash. Don’t play the innocent. You know, as well as I do, that I met the Howells and your great-aunt and -uncle earlier, just after your father’s grand announcement. They came through what I believe was a receiving line as you and I and Edward stood next to your parents and brother.”

  Darn him. He’d learned her all too well and all too fast. “Oh, that’s right,” she said in her best self-effacing Southern-belle style. “Well, they’re certainly worth a second conversation. And will you just look at all this, Spencer? I mean this gathering. It’s perfect. My mother and father have outdone themselves.” She cast her satisfied gaze over the assemblage. “Why, all of Savannah is here. Well, anyone who matters is, I mean to say.”

  “Yes, lovely. Victoria, look at me. What are you thinking?”

  She dropped her pose and turned to her husband. Determination rushed her pulse. “I think we should go now. With all of Savannah out here today, they can’t get in our way. And even better, this means he is alone in Savannah and will have nowhere to hide.”

  “If he’s even in Savannah.”

  “Oh, he is, all right. Miss Cicely said he was. And I cannot help it; I want to go kill him, Spencer. I had no idea he was behind all this. None.”

  “I share your sentiment, my dear, regarding killing that son of a— Oh, how do you do? So nice to make your acquaintance. Red spots? Mine? Whatever do you mean? Oh, exactly—the Earl of Roxley told you of my infirmity. All cleared up now, thankfully. Some plant I brushed against, I suspect. You’re very kind to inquire. Yes, we are quite happy with our news. We appreciate your stopping by.” The moment the young couple was out of earshot, he turned to Victoria and took up where he’d left off. “If anyone should be riding to Savannah to confront this villain, it should be your brother—”

  “But he can’t, Spencer. He’d be shot on sight.”

  “What makes you think we won’t be?”

  “Because he doesn’t know we know, or that we’re even coming. So we have the element of surprise on our side.”

  “I disagree. He will know, the moment he sees us, that we know. Why else, on this day of all days, would we be in Savannah?”

  “And that is exactly why Jeff can’t go. I’d think you’d know that. You’re the one who took him aside this morning and told him what had happened and that we knew and that he should go out to Miss Cicely’s. He didn’t deny anything, either— Why, Darlene Carpenter, it’s been ages since I set eyes on you. Look at you! More beautiful than ever. Spencer, this is my cousin on my mother’s side. You met her earlier. Oh, thank you, Darlene. We could not be more happy. Spencer’s leg? No, it wasn’t broken, only bruised. The Earl of Roxley spoke hastily that day. What? You’re looking for Aunt Pauline? Why, I don’t know. I think she’s over there with Mama. Oh, yes, I see her now. Over there.”

  Alone again with her husband—as alone as anyone could be in the crush of people strolling by or standing nearby and chatting and laughing loudly—Victoria turned pleading eyes Spencer’s way. “You heard what Miss Cicely said. We have to act now. He knows his game is up, but we can’t just wait until he does something else. We have to act first. I, for one, am sick and tired of all this suspense and worrying. Every day, I fear there’ll be another note on my pillow, or someone will take a shot at one of us. I just can’t live with it anymore, Spencer. I want this resolved, I want my family safe, and I want to go home with you. I don’t think that’s asking a lot.”

  Spencer said nothing. He simply stared down at her. The warm and shining intensity radiating from his black eyes startled Victoria but in a pleasant way. “That was quite the noble speech, my dear,” he finally said. “I find I am moved by it and your bravery. You are quite the most heroic—and foolhardy—woman I have ever met, and I will strive to be worthy of you in both regards. But I also find, my sweet wife, that if … something happened to you, it would be an ending I could not bear.”

  “Oh, Spencer. I couldn’t bear it if it were you, either. I couldn’t.” Her heart melting with love for this man at her side, she set her plate on the bench behind her and hugged his arm impulsively, going so far as to rest her forehead against the muscled hardness of his biceps. The solidness of him, his very warmth, comforted her in ways she could not begin to describe. “What am I going to do, Spencer? Help me.”

  In the next moment, Spencer followed Victoria’s example and set his plate down on the same bench. He then held her by her arms and stared down into her eyes. “Do you realize, Victoria, that is the first time you have ever asked me for my help? That is what I’ve been waiting for.”

  A bit taken aback, she cocked her head. “It is?”

  Spencer chuckled. “Yes, it is—a declaration that you need me. Dare I hope, after holding me at arm’s length all this while, you trust me now?”

  “I have always trusted you, Spencer. I was afraid of you, yes, and feared you would keep me from doing what I had to do—I mean when I left England—but I always trusted you. At least, on other levels. You’re a man of integrity, I know that. You have noble sensibilities. And you’re very honorable—”

  “Thank you for a wonderful litany of my virtues.” His bright grin slowly faded. “But I am so sorry you were afraid of me. Edward says I can be a pompous ass, and he’s right.”

  “But you had every right to be, Spencer. We were doing well … I mean you and I, at least reasonably well … until I had to tell you my ill-timed news. How else could you feel but angry and cautious?”

  “You’re very forgiving. And I am eternally grateful. But I cannot forgive myself for not considering, even once, what you must have been feeling that day or every day after. How scared and distraught you had to be. And how brave you were to tell me…” His voice trailed off; he looked up and away from her; exhaled; and then firmed his lips as if he’d come to some decision he wished to share with her. “Victoria, I just … I love you. And I never thought, in my whole life, that I would have anyone to whom I could say those words. But now I do … and it’s you. You are such a gift in my life, one I have no intention of losing.”

  Victoria feared she was going to cry. She tried to raise a hand to her mouth, but with Spencer tenderly holding her arms, a chuckling sob escaped her first. He pulled her to his chest and held her in his embrace. Overcome, Victoria wrapped her arms around him and closed her eyes against the guests’ indulgent smiles or shocked whispers coming their way. “I love you, too,” she said. “Why are those the hardest words in the world to say?”

  Spencer rested his chin atop her head. “I don’t know.” His voice vibrated in his chest and throughout her body. Victoria felt certain she’d never experienced anything this delicious or intimate … right here in broad daylight with all of Savannah looking on. Nothing could have been more inappropriate, but Victoria didn’t give a fig about her breach of etiquette. Only Spencer mattered.

  “Perhaps,” he said into the cocoon of quiet that wrapped them softly in its folds, “they’ll get easier to say if we say them more often to each other.”

  “I
would like that … very much.” She could have stayed like this, locked in the safe haven of his arms, for the rest of her life. But hers could prove to be a very short life if she didn’t act soon. Today. Reluctant though she was to do so, Victoria pulled back and raised her gaze to her husband’s. “I’m going to go after him, Spencer. I have to.”

  He stroked her arms and nodded. “I know.”

  “Go with me.”

  He chuckled. “I planned to do exactly that.”

  It suddenly hit her: This was real. They were finally going to act. Today. A fearful excitement coursed through Victoria’s veins, making her shiver. “We’ll take Edward, if we can pry him loose from Lucinda Barrett. That would be three of us, Spencer. Three against one. And it will be easier to slip away than you think. For one thing, the stables are off a ways on the other side of the house. We’ll leave from there and travel a back road that doesn’t connect to the main route to Savannah until we’re off River’s End property.”

  Looking amazed, Spencer said: “My, but you’ve thought this through, haven’t you?”

  “Yes, I have.” She rushed on with no apology. “I’ll pretend to be suddenly taken ill. It’s expected with women who are in my condition. Everyone will sympathize. And you, playing the concerned and devoted husband, can carry me—”

  “I daresay I am, in truth, a concerned and devoted husband—”

  “Of course you are.” Patting his chest … his wonderfully broad and muscular chest, Victoria smiled at his bruised feelings. “I’m simply saying how it will appear to everyone if you carry me to my room and then stay with me.”

  “It is our room, madam. But I see now what you mean. If you’re ill, no one will want to be present for that and will understand your need to rest.” Frowning, he pointed at Victoria. “But Edward. Explain to me how we will make off with him without raising suspicion.”

 

‹ Prev