The Marriage Spell

by Mary Jo Putney

  A glint of humor showed in the duchess’s eyes. “I’ll take you to your rooms. When you’re ready, a maid will be waiting outside your door. I required guidance for weeks after I moved here.”

  As Celeste led Abby up the curving staircase, she asked, “Do you have a maid?”

  “I did, but at the prospect of her leaving Melton, her sweetheart proposed marriage,” Abby explained. “I need to find another.”

  “The maid I’ll send for guidance can help you. She often acts as abigail to female guests.” As they walked along the upper corridor, the duchess’s brows drew together. “I shall have to use a term other than abigail for the lady’s maids, I see.” She opened a door. “I shall send Lettie up. If you need anything, just ask her.”

  The duchess withdrew gracefully, leaving Abby to explore her new quarters. The bedroom proved to be part of a suite, with another bedroom for Jack, two dressing rooms, and a private sitting room. The furnishings and draperies were lavish and the ceilings so high that most of the heat moved to the top of the room, leaving the rest of the space chilly. She found herself missing the moderate ceilings and well-used but friendly furniture rescued from the attics of Hilltop House.

  A servant had already hung her gowns. The sturdy, unfashionable garments did not make an impressive sight. Abby had always been more interested in practicality than style, and she was so busy that she seldom found time to have new clothing made. Jack had said that she must indulge herself with the London modistes, but for now, Abby was going to look like the dowdy provincial she was.

  There was no help for it. Perhaps feeling superior would improve the duchess’s mood. By the time Abby had washed up, the promised maid had appeared. The efficient young Lettie helped Abby dress her hair and change into a plain, dark blue gown and a warm Italian shawl. Then she guided the visitor to Celeste’s private parlor.

  Abby would have known the room belonged to the duchess even if the other woman hadn’t been present. The dainty, feminine furniture, fabrics, and carpets were the perfect setting for the exquisite Celeste. Her hostess rose from her desk. “I hope your rooms are comfortable?”

  “They’re magnificent. Jack usually stays with you when he’s in London?”

  “Yes, which isn’t often enough.” The duchess moved to the tea table, where a silver tea service and a plate of pastries awaited. “Frayne House has been leased out for years. My mother and her husband never come to town. How do you like your tea?”

  So the dowager Lady Frayne had remarried. Wondering if that was why Jack avoided discussing his childhood home, Abby specified milk for her tea and accepted a delicious French pastry as an accompaniment. They discussed the journey from Leicestershire until the duchess replenished the teacups.

  Tiring of trivialities, Abby said, “Is it time for the interrogation, Celeste? To simplify matters, my birth is respectable. My father, Sir Andrew Barton, is a baronet and owner of a neat property near Melton Mowbray, my brother is an officer in Spain, and I have a dowry that is ample by gentry standards, but doubtless would look paltry to a member of the nobility.” She added an irregular lump of sugar to her tea and stirred. “In other words, Jack could have done much better for himself. I freely agree that he deserves better. Nonetheless, married we are. I hope this does not distress you too greatly, since Jack would not like you to be unhappy.”

  The duchess’s teacup froze in midair a moment before she carefully set it back in its saucer. “You are remarkably direct, Abby. I rather like that, though you might wish to be less forthcoming in society. I presume that you would not lie about the facts you just gave me, since they are so easily checked. So I will ask you the one truly important question, and I trust this answer will also be honest. Do you love my brother?”

  That was not what Abby had expected from an elegant social butterfly. She concentrated on stirring her tea rather more than it needed. “Yes. Though I know the world will regard this as an unequal match, I swear I will be a good wife to him.”

  “Excellent.” The duchess gave a genuine smile and looked much less intimidating. “My brother is a good catch, and he’s far too easygoing to defend himself against scheming debutantes and their even more scheming mothers. If he hadn’t been in the army these last years, I shudder to think what kind of female would have trapped him into marriage before he knew what he was about.”

  She took a thoughtful sip of tea. “If he had consulted me about a possible wife, I would have told him to look for a down-to-earth woman and a relationship grounded in true affection. He appears to have done just that. Not for nothing is he called Lucky Jack.” She extended her hand. “Welcome to the Langdon family, Abby.”

  Abby took the duchess’s hand. The other woman’s clasp was surprisingly firm for such a delicate creature. “I’m honored, Celeste. But to be honest, I’m surprised at your approval. Jack has responsibilities as a landowner and a member of Parliament. I don’t know if I will do him much credit in society.” She glanced down at her plain gown.

  The duchess waved her hand. “You have presence, breeding, and intelligence, which are the basic requirements to be Lady Frayne. Town polish is easily acquired. But tell me about that accident. Did you really save Jack’s life?”

  The full story would reveal what Abby was, but she couldn’t lie to Jack’s sister. Wondering if this would destroy the duchess’s good regard, Abby said bluntly, “He took a terrible fall and broke his neck. When his friends brought him to our house, he was paralyzed and on the brink of death. His friends didn’t want to notify his family until his fate was certain. I organized a healing circle, and together we were able to repair the worst of the damage. He has recovered with remarkable speed. A fortnight from now, he won’t need the cane.”

  The other woman’s expression changed. “You are a wizard?”

  So the duchess didn’t approve of magic. At least she didn’t call Abby a wyrdling. “Everyone in my family is gifted with exceptional power.” Jack’s magic she didn’t mention. That was between brother and sister. “My gift is for healing.”

  The duchess leaned forward, her hazel eyes blazing. “Can you cure barrenness?”

  So it wasn’t disapproval that had caused Celeste’s expression to change so markedly. “I don’t know,” Abby replied. “There are many causes of barrenness. I might be able to help, but no one can guarantee a cure.”

  “I know there are no guarantees.” With visible effort, Celeste sat back in her chair. “I have already consulted the best physicians, and I’ve secretly gone to healers, too, without success. But if you could save Jack’s life after he broke his neck, perhaps you can succeed where others have failed.”

  “I didn’t do it alone, Celeste.” It was easier to use the duchess’s given name now that the talk had become so personal. “We had a full healing circle of talented wizards. Such powerful magic is best suited to healing great injuries or illnesses. Lesser physical problems require a lighter touch, and perhaps somewhat different magical skills.”

  “I know all that. But…please, will you try?” The naked pleading in Celeste’s eyes was painful to see.

  Abby had seen such desperation many times. She never became indifferent to it. “I will try. And I hope you will not hate me if I fail.”

  The duchess gave a crooked smile. “I haven’t hated any of the others who failed. Whatever the results, I will be grateful that you saved my brother’s life. And I will pray that you and Jack never suffer this particular kind of hell.”

  The pieces suddenly fit together. “This is the source of the estrangement between you and your husband, isn’t it? The failure to provide him with an heir.”

  Celeste caught her breath. “You’re very perceptive. I suppose that goes with your other talents. Yes, we’ve been married almost ten years, and I have never once quickened. It has not been for a lack of trying on our part. The physicians all said I was a healthy woman and surely it was only a matter of time.” Her hands knotted in her lap, no longer elegant. “More than three thousand days an
d nights have passed, yet still I have been unable to give my husband a child.”

  “The duke cannot forgive your failure?” The thought did not endear him to Abby.

  “Of course he is deeply disappointed, but he has accepted my barrenness, perhaps better than I.” Celeste gazed across the room, eyes un-seeing. “The estrangement between us is the result of my telling him that I would cooperate if he wanted to take a mistress and pass off any resulting child as mine. The suggestion shocked him almost senseless. He…he accused me of wanting him to take a mistress to justify my taking lovers. Our relationship has not yet recovered.”

  Abby caught her breath. “How sad that you made an offer that cost you great pain, and that his rejection has caused you even more pain.”

  Celeste sighed. “I shouldn’t have done it. Piers is the most honorable man in the kingdom, and he takes his wedding vows seriously. But I thought after all these years, he might be grateful to have an heir that was his if not mine. Instead, he thinks I…I don’t love him.”

  “Surely in time he will realize that your suggestion was an expression of great love,” Abby said comfortingly.

  “If he doesn’t, there will be no chance for a child at all.”

  So the duke and duchess were no longer intimate. No wonder both of them were unhappy. “Celeste, why are you speaking so freely to a woman you’ve only just met? I hope I am worthy of your trust, but I find your candor surprising.”

  “I am not usually so forthcoming. But…” The duchess smiled wryly and made a quick gesture with her right hand. A glowing ball of light formed on the palm.

  “Good heavens,” Abby gasped. “You’re a wizard!”

  “Not really,” Celeste said, though she looked pleased at the words. “My natural power is modest and I had no proper training. I learned early that having magic would make me despised, so I hid my ability. It was a relief to realize that with you I could be myself, for both of us have much to conceal.”

  So the duchess was offering a pact of silence. Abby found herself feeling sorry for the other woman, who was forced to hide a vital part of her nature. Though she was beautiful, wellborn, and titled, she had not had the freedom and support Abby had enjoyed. “I will not betray you, but the fact that I’m a wizard is likely to become public knowledge soon. My family is well known in the shires, and so many men hunt there that the news will reach London quickly.”

  “I suppose you’re right.” The duchess narrowed her eyes, but her expression was friendly. “The more people who meet you before your wizardry becomes known, the better. It’s harder to cut a woman one has met. Luckily, the taint of magic has never been so severe for our sex. I shall hold a ball to present you to society as soon as possible.”

  Abby winced. “Please, is that necessary? I truly dislike the idea of being shown off like a prize cow.”

  “I understand, but a ball is indeed necessary. You’ve married into the beau monde. Jack is about to take his place as one of the great men of Britain. It isn’t required for you to be a famous hostess or a dazzling beauty with an entourage of flirtatious gentlemen around you, but you must be known, accepted, and respected. Out of London you can be less fashionable, but here you owe it to Jack to make an effort.”

  Abby sighed. “I said I’d do my best to be a good wife, so I will do my duty. But I shall need your aid rather desperately. My dancing is as provincial as my wardrobe.”

  Celeste’s gaze moved over Abby from head to foot. “Forgive my tactlessness, but do you dress so plainly because you wish to be acceptable but not memorable?”

  “I’m afraid so. Partly that is because of the work I do. Too fashionable an appearance would require time and effort and might make me look unapproachable. I don’t want those who need me most to be afraid to ask for help.” She hesitated, then added, “And to be honest, fashion simply doesn’t interest me. I like to be comfortable and to blend in. Beyond that, there are more interesting things to do than stand around having pins stuck into me.”

  “That’s all very well for the country, but not London.” The duchess tapped her fingers thoughtfully on the armrest of her chair. “You have good bones, and I suspect that under the plain dress and shawl is a decent figure. A good modiste and a corsetiere will do wonders. There’s no need to go to a public salon—I shall have them come here.” She grinned. “I’m quite looking forward to this.”

  “I’m glad one of us is!” But Abby smiled when she said it. She had gained an ally in London, and also, she thought, a friend.

  Chapter XVIII

  The duke closed his study door behind them, then opened a handsomely inlaid wooden box. “A cigar?”

  “Thank you.” Jack seldom smoked, but he and his brother-in-law had developed this ritual over the years. It gave them time to relax and get used to each other again. God knew they could hardly be more different, but they always got on well.

  The duke lit the cigars with a taper, then motioned Jack to sit in one of the deep, leather-upholstered chairs. “Congratulations on your marriage. Your bride looks like a sensible woman.”

  “She is.” Jack drew in a mouthful of fragrant smoke, then slowly released it. Piers had the best cigars in London. “She’s a Barton. The family is well respected in the Midlands.”

  “Will you be returning to the army?”

  “I’m selling my commission. Visiting a broker is on my list of tasks.”

  “Good.” The duke regarded the glowing tip of his cigar gravely. “The sooner you take your wife north and reclaim Langdale Hall, the better. Matters there are not good, Jack. I wish you’d given me more authority to deal with the situation.”

  Though a solicitor handled routine business affairs for the estate, Piers had kept an eye on both solicitor and estate while Jack was with the army. “The problems are mine to solve. How bad is it?”

  “The income is less than half what it should be. There has been disease among the livestock and blight on the crops. Tenants have left and not been replaced, fields are lying fallow, and I hear the remaining tenants look as desolate as plague victims.” He frowned. “I don’t understand why affairs are in such a state. Sir Alfred Scranton is not a stupid man and his own estate does well. There is no evidence that he is looting the property or deliberately mismanaging it. Yet Langdale Hall doesn’t prosper.”

  “The estate has been cursed ever since my mother married that man.”

  The duke made an expression of distaste. “Surely you don’t believe in curses.”

  Reminded of the other man’s traditional views, Jack said, “Not a literal curse. I meant that nothing has gone right since Scranton persuaded my mother to marry him.”

  “I’ve never quite understood that match,” the duke mused.

  “Whatever his other failings, Scranton adores her,” Jack said grudgingly. And his mother was a woman who needed to feel adored. “The man is a blight, but he’s no thief.”

  It would be up to Jack to send Scranton packing, even if that meant throwing his own mother from his house. Which was why he had avoided Yorkshire for so many years. Once it had seemed as if he faced impossible choices. Now that he had married Abby and dismantled Stark’s crippling spell, the choices no longer seemed impossible. Merely very difficult. Not wishing to discuss the matter further, he asked, “How is the world treating you, Piers?”

  The duke shrugged. “Well enough.”

  Which was a lie, now that Jack looked more closely. His brother-in-law appeared gray and unhappy. Older than his years. The gray was in his face and in the faint glow of energy around him.

  Since breaking down the iron door in his mind, Jack had found that he could see auras despite his conscious attempts to bury his magic. Most of the time the ability was a distracting nuisance, but he had to admit that sometimes it was convenient.

  Celeste hasn’t looked her best, either, though he hadn’t noticed at the time because of her enthusiastic greeting. It didn’t take a genius to deduce that there was trouble between his sister and her husband, b
ut it wasn’t something he could ask about. Piers was intensely private. And to be honest, Jack wouldn’t know what to do about someone else’s marital problems, not when he hadn’t figured out his own marriage.

  The duke handed over a slim sheaf of papers. “Here’s a summary of your estate accounts to review before you meet with your solicitor.”

  “Thank you.” Jack knew from experience that his brother-in-law’s summary would be concise and insightful, going to the heart of any problems. “I’m fortunate that you have been willing to watch over my affairs.”

  “Managing property is my only talent, so I enjoy exercising it,” the other man said dryly. “But now it’s your turn.”

  Jack scanned the estate summary, wincing at the income total. Much of the income was being reinvested in an attempt to turn the estate around, so far with little effect. A good thing Jack wasn’t the high-living sort. “I’m planning on spending only a few weeks in town. Long enough to take my seat, sell my commission, and introduce Abby to the ton. Then it will be time for Langdon.”

  “Of course you are welcome to stay here as long as you wish.”

  “I appreciate that. It’s been so long since I’ve seen the inside of Frayne House that I have forgotten what it looks like. Now that I’ll be in town regularly for Parliament, I’ll have to take possession when the lease expires. The place probably needs refurbishing after so many years of being let out. Respectability is a lot of work. Expensive, too.” He set the accounts aside. “Can you refresh my memory about how one takes one’s seat?”

  “You’ll need to have formal robes of state made up.” The duke smiled faintly. “Be grateful the weather is still cold; otherwise all that velvet and ermine is deucedly hot. After you’re presented to the house by two lords who are the same rank as you, you swear an oath of allegiance to king and country.”