by Tarah Scott
“I am surprised you associate with bluestockings,” Anne said, when Miss Watson was whisked to the dance floor by a handsome gentleman.
Kennedy met her gaze. “I believe I told you that I respect a woman who knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to pursue it.” He lifted a brow. “Did you think I was lying?”
She narrowed her eyes. “I thought you were pursuing something that you wanted at that moment.”
He laughed, then introduced them to two more ladies who talked of nothing but sewing, parties and dresses.
“Is that more to your liking, my lady? he asked when they finally left the ladies.
“It wasn’t to my liking,” Louisa said. “Forgive me for saying so, Kennedy, but they were excessively dull.”
“Louisa,” their mother hissed in a low voice when two ladies glanced their way.
“Don’t reprimand her for speaking the truth,” Kennedy said. “I happen to agree.” He looked at Louisa. “Still, I am surprised. I know you like dresses and parties, so why did you find them dull?”
“Of course, I like dresses and parties,” she said as if talking to a child. “They are great fun. But I wouldn’t go on about them and talk of nothing else. Have they no other interests?”
Kennedy chuckled. “Not that I know of.”
Louisa made a face. “Must we be friends with them?”
“For heaven’s sake, Louisa,” her mother said. “Keep your voice down.”
Louisa hung her head. “Of course, Mama.”
Kennedy leaned close to Louisa and whispered, “Never fear, you need not be friends with anyone you don’t like.”
She beamed. “Thank you. I’m thirsty, Mama. May I have champagne?”
“You may not,” she replied. “You may have lemonade.”
Louisa slanted a look up at Kennedy. “Kennedy, don’t you think that fourteen is old enough to have just a little champagne?”
Their mother stiffened.
He tweaked one of Louisa’s curls. “I think that fourteen is old enough to know better than to ask her brother to countermand her mother’s instructions.”
Louisa blinked and Anne thought she would pout. Instead, she shrugged and said, “I suppose I have much to learn about having a brother.”
He laughed again and Anne noted a tinge of sadness this time.
The orchestra struck up a waltz.
“You and Anne haven’t dance,” Louisa said. “The waltz is so romantic. You must dance.”
Kennedy looked at her. “Shall we, my lady?”
The last thing she wanted was to dance with him, but how could she refuse? She nodded, and he grasped her hand, tucked it into the crook of his arm, and led her toward the dance floor.
Once they were out of earshot of her mother and sister, she said, “You need not dance with me.”
He looked at her. “There is nothing strange in a man dancing with his wife.”
She wasn’t his wife—not truly. Not yet.
“True, but Louisa forced you to ask me.”
“Never fear, few people can force me to do anything.”
They reached the dance floor. He pulled her close and stepped into the music. She wasn’t surprised to find he was an excellent dancer.
“Who are the few people who can force you to do anything?” she asked.
His gaze snapped onto her. “What?”
“You said few people can force you to do anything. Who are those few people?”
“I suppose there is only one person in truth,” he said, as if speaking to himself.
“Who?”
He seemed lost in thought, and only shook his head. “It is of no consequence.”
“Your father?” she asked.
His full mouth thinned and he looked at her. “Why ask questions you already know the answers to?”
She considered. “I am sorry you were forced to marry me.”
He released a breath and guided them past a couple, then sidestepped another couple who nearly rammed them.
“It isn’t your fault, Anne.”
“True,” she replied. “But you’re clearly unhappy with marriage.”
Interest lit his eyes. “Are you saying that because we didn’t consummate our marriage last night?”
Embarrassment warmed her cheeks. “I-I didn’t mean that, at all.”
The interest turned to amusement. “We are not the first married couple not to consummate their marriage on their wedding night.”
Anne nibbled on her lip. “There is always tonight.”
“Have you plans for me, my sweet?”
What plans did she have? “We are not truly married until…”
His amusement vanished. “You want to earn that five thousand pounds as quickly as possible. I am a fool.”
Anne gasped. Then anger whipped through her. “Why not? This is a business arrangement after all—nothing more.”
His eyes darkened. “Then I shall be at your service tonight, madam.”
“If you are certain that you are up to it, my lord? I don’t want to inconvenience you.”
“Too late,” he shot back. “You have inconvenienced me a great deal.”
He yanked her against him and turned her in a tight whirl that made her dizzy—and aware of his hard length.
“I must now devise a way not to embarrass myself in front of Edinburgh’s elite,” he said.
Then she found herself being whirled off the dance floor and out the balcony doors.
* * *
Kennedy brought Anne to a halt. She tried to shove away from him, but he tightened his grip and kissed her. Then released her. She took two faltering steps backward.
“Just a preview of things to come,” he said.
“How very fortunate for me,” she said.
“Oh, it will be, that I promise.”
She released a frustrated breath, then turned and hurried back into the ballroom.
Kennedy started after her, then thought better of it and pivoted, headed for the gardens. He crossed the balcony, took the three steps down to the lawn, and slowed to a stroll. Anne didn’t deserve his disdain. She was right. Their marriage was a business arrangement. Oddly, the thought bothered him. She was also correct in that he wasn’t happy being married. He’d known he would someday marry, but it galled him that his father had forced the issue and had even chosen his bride.
Underneath it all, though, he feared for Rose. He couldn’t allow himself to dwell on her. For the moment, he felt certain she was safe. The longer she was away, however, the greater the chances that her keepers would grow careless. And he couldn’t consider what would happen if his father died.
He needed Anne to bear him a son just as much as she wanted to. He couldn’t fault her for that. Tonight, he would consummate their marriage. A small sense of satisfaction arose. If his father had any idea that he hadn’t consummated the marriage last night, he’d be furious. Now that he thought of it, he should have married long ago and simply never consummated the marriage. That would’ve driven his father mad, and he would have had no recourse to kidnap Rose. He was wrong. His father would have secreted her away and demanded Kennedy bed is wife and bear a child.
Why hadn’t it occurred to him that his father would use Rose? Because, despite everything, Kennedy simply had never believed his father would put his own daughter in jeopardy. He wouldn’t underestimate the old man again.
“Kennedy.”
Kennedy halted. Bloody hell. He turned to face Jacqueline. “What are you doing here?”
“I saw you and Anne leave the ballroom, but she returned immediately. Is something amiss?”
“What is amiss, Jacqueline, is that my father has kidnapped my sister and blackmailed me into marriage.”
She stepped closer and laid a hand on his arm. “You know your father will never allow any harm to come to Rose.”
“He threatened to marry her to Granbury. There is no worse harm that can come to her.”
She shook her head. “I don’t believe he w
ould do it.”
“Then you are a fool.”
She stepped closer. “Does she please you?”
He didn’t have to ask who the ‘she’ was. “Very much so,” he said.
“Does she please you as much as I used to?”
Kennedy stared down at her. Even in the pale moonlight she was beautiful. “Aye, she pleases me very much.”
Jacqueline laid her palms on his chest. “Perhaps you have forgotten how much I please you.”
He grasped her hands and removed them from his chest. “You should remember that you’re married to my father.”
“You know how ill he is, Kennedy. He hasn’t been able to…” She looked up at him through her lashes. “I am very lonely.”
He gave her a cold smile. “Perhaps there is a stable hand who will oblige. I understand you like stable hands.”
“You know that is a vicious lie.”
“I know nothing of the sort. In fact, I would be surprised if it wasn’t true.”
She slapped him. His cheek stung. He wanted to shake her, demand to know why she’d chosen his father. But he knew why.
She whirled toward the mansion and hurried away. He watched until she disappeared from view. Had she always been so cold and calculating? He thought back. She was driven. That was something he’d always admired about her. What he hadn’t understood was the motivation behind that drive. She would have what she wanted at all costs. Were all women like that?
He thought of Anne. Aye, she was determined, as well. Unlike Jacqueline, however, she never pretended to love him. Of course, he’d known her for less than two days. There was still time for her to pretend many things. He recalled her ire moments ago, and wondered if she were capable of doing anything but showing what was in her heart. He sighed. Time would tell.
Chapter Six
Anne reentered the ballroom and scanned the room for her mother and Louisa, but found no sign of them. She stopped a passing waiter and took a glass of champagne from his tray, then glanced back in the direction of the open balcony doors. The man really was impossible. She took two deep gulps of champagne. He had better get her with child soon, because she was liable to murder him. Her stomach performed a somersault at the memory of his promise, “I will be at your service tonight, madam.”
The words were spoken in anger, but she hadn’t missed the deep timbre of his voice and the intensity of his gaze when he’d said them. Anne took another gulp of champagne. She’d never known a more insufferable man. Perhaps she should ask her mother how to deal with him. Nae. Her mother would be aghast to learn they hadn’t consummated their marriage. A lady always submitted to her husband’s commands in the bedchambers.
Anne lifted the champagne glass to her lips and found only a small mouthful remained. Where was another waiter? She scanned the room and caught sight of Jacqueline entering the ballroom from the balcony. Anne hadn’t seen her outside. Had she spoken with Kennedy?
Had Kennedy returned to the ballroom? She searched the room again, but there were so many people, she might have overlooked him. Jacqueline turned, and their eyes met. Anne read something there. Guilt? Jacqueline started toward her. Oh Lord, she was in no mood to speak to the woman. She didn’t like her. But she couldn’t ignore her. Jacqueline knew that she had seen her.
“There she is, Mama,” Louisa said behind her.
Anne turned as her mother and sister neared her. “I’m so relieved to see you,” she blurted.
Her mother’s eyes sharpened and Anne realized her mistake. She thought her mother would say something, but her eyes shifted past Anne and Jacqueline appeared beside them an instant later.
“Good evening, Lady Kinsley,” she said. “Lady Louisa, you look lovely.”
“Thank you,” Louisa bubbled over. “This is a special dress I wore just for this party.”
“It’s absolutely perfect,” Jacqueline said, then she turned to Anne. “I am so glad to find you. I have been looking for you for the last hour.” Anne had the feeling she was lying. “The earl would like to meet you,” Jacqueline said.
The earl wanted to meet her? She recalled Kennedy saying that she wouldn’t meet his father if he had his way. She glanced toward the balcony doors, but saw no sign of him.
“I hope he hasn’t fallen asleep,” Jacqueline said. “He now sleeps far more than he is awake.” She smiled at Anne’s mother. “It is so difficult.” She sighed, then looked at Anne. “Come, let’s go up to his chambers.”
“Perhaps I should wait for Kennedy,” Anne said.
“Do you know where he is?” Jacqueline asked.
“I left them out on the balcony,” Anne replied.
“I just came from the gardens,” Jacqueline said. “He was taking a walk.”
Shock reverberated through Anne. “You saw him in the gardens?”
“Oh, yes, walking in the gardens is a favorite activity of ours.”
Anne caught the startled look on her mother’s face.
“Kennedy has been so wonderful during his father’s illness,” Jacqueline said. “I don’t know what I would have done without him.”
Her tone was intimate. But why wouldn’t it be? They were family. Anne was being ridiculous. But it had been disturbing the way Jacqueline rested her hand on Kennedy’s arm yesterday morning at the wedding feast. Anne was no fool. She’d watched her friends flirt and bat their eyes to gain a young man’s attention. A woman didn’t touch a man’s arm like that unless they were close.
Jacqueline smiled sweetly. “Please, Joseph has expressly asked to see you.” She angled her head toward Anne’s mother.” You will excuse us, Lady Kinsley. Come along, Anne.”
Anne hesitated, then nodded. “I will return soon, Mama. Please let Kennedy know where I am. I am sure he will return from his walk in the garden soon.”
Her mother nodded, then Anne followed Jacqueline through the crowd to a hallway, but she wished mightily she was in the gardens with her husband.
* * *
Kennedy reentered the ballroom with the intention of finding Anne and Louisa and returning home. They had stayed long enough for Louisa to have gotten her fill of the party. He caught sight of them near the left hand wall and started toward them. He brushed past a group of men, and waited for three ladies to pass when he heard his name called. Kennedy cursed, and turned to face his uncle as the older man reached him.
“Can we speak?” Ranald asked.
“Can it wait?” Kennedy asked. “I am meeting my wife’s mother and sister.”
Ranald’s expression brightened. “I had hoped to meet your wife.”
“Come along, then.” Kennedy turned and dodged two passing gentlemen, then pushed through the throng that seemed to have grown during his walk in the garden.
They reached the two women, and the viscountess said, “Kennedy I am relieved to see you,” then broke off when Ranald stepped up beside him.
“My lady, this is my uncle, Lord Ranald,” Kennedy said. “Ranald, Lady Kinsley and her daughter Lady Louisa.”
“Ma’am.” Ranald bowed over the older woman’s hand. Louisa curtsied and he bowed in return.
“What is amiss?” Kennedy demanded, then realized he had spoken too loudly when a group of nearby man looked their way. “What has happened? he said in a low voice.
She hesitated, and Kennedy said, “You may speak freely in front of my uncle.”
She glanced at the older man, then said in a low voice, “Your stepmother took Anne up to meet your father.”
“Bloody hell,” he cursed. “I instructed her not to leave the ballroom,” he said.
The dowager viscountess’s brows rose. “You clearly do not know your wife, if you expected that command to be followed.”
“My wife will learn to heed my commands,” he said.
Amusement flickered in her eyes. “It may be you who learns a few lessons,” she murmured.
“I take it you believe a wife has the right to ignore her husband’s wishes?”
“Not at all. I am
simply experienced enough to know that a marriage—a happy marriage—is not built on obedience to commands.”
“She has a point,” Ranald said.
Kennedy gave his uncle a narrow-eyed look. “I can see an interesting road lies ahead for me.”
“Of that you may be assured,” the viscountess said. “First, however, you might want to rescue your stepmother from Anne.”
He blinked. “I beg your pardon? It is Anne who will need rescuing.”
She gave him a polite smile. “You have not yet had cause to learn this, but Anne has a temper.”
He barked a laugh. “Indeed, I have learned that, madam.” He excused himself and headed for his father’s chambers to rescue someone, though he knew not who.
* * *
Anne’s heart squeezed at sight of the elderly man who sat propped up in bed reading a book. He was more than just ill. The paleness of his skin and the tremble in his hands told her he was dying. Still, a keen intelligence stared back at her through the pale blue eyes that watched their approach.
Jacqueline hurried to his bed, then pressed a kiss to his cheek, and said, “My dear, this is Anne.”
Anne stopped a few feet away.
“Come closer.” He beckoned with a gnarled hand.
Anne did as instructed and stopped beside Jacqueline, then curtsied.
“You are very beautiful,” he said.
“Thank you, my lord,” Anne said.
“What do you think of my son? Will he give you a son?”
Anne started at the question. How did she know the answer to such a question?
“I am sure he will do his best, my lord.”
The man’s eyes sharpened. “Will do his best? By now, I expect you to have been working hard to produce an heir.”
Anne blinked. She and Kennedy had been married but a day. How hard could they be ‘working’ to have a child? “Forgive me, sir, but it is not proper for a wife to speak of such things, especially to her husband’s father.”
“She is right, my dear,” Jacqueline said. “Anne is a new bride.”