The Bartered Bride (Bride Trilogy)

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by Mary Jo Putney


  “He missed having you with him when you became a seaman in your own right, but he felt it best for you to gain experience under other captains. Knowing that, I suspected that you hadn’t drowned with your parents. But I had no proof, and no one wanted to hear my doubts, least of all Philip.”

  “I could still be an imposter.”

  Lady Jane smiled and leaned forward to trace a faded, almost invisible scar on his forehead that stretched an inch or so below the hairline. “I was present when you acquired this. You were running after the vicarage cat and fell down on broken stones. This gash bled fearfully, but your mother took it very calmly. So did you, for that matter. You were always running headlong.”

  Another memory clicked into place, this time of him pressing a hand to his head while blood dripped through his small fingers. His mother saying, “You’ll have a scar from this, laddie.” And another woman who gave him sweets to make him smile after his head was bandaged. Feeling surprising warmth, he stood and hugged his aunt. “You were the one who gave me candied violets! The most amazing thing I’d ever eaten.”

  “You do remember!” She hugged back with delight. “I can’t wait for you to meet my children. A pity none are in London at the moment. My second son, James, is named for your father, and is a lieutenant in the navy.”

  “My family is growing by leaps and bounds,” Gavin said rather dryly as he sat down. “And I haven’t even started looking for Frasers from my mother’s family.”

  “Since you married into the Kenyons and the Penroses, you’re connected with half the British nobility.”

  Gavin blinked. “Penroses?”

  “Lady Michael’s family. They’re very ancient—the Lairds of Skoal, a feudal island off Cornwall.” She laughed. “You didn’t know that either, I can see.”

  He’d never get this all straight. “I’m beginning to understand why people have social secretaries.”

  “If I can help you navigate the shoals of London society, let me know.” Lady Jane hesitated. “May I offer some advice?”

  “Please do,” he said with even greater dryness. “Everyone else does.”

  Ignoring that, she said, “Apply for a writ of summons to take your seat in the House of Lords right away. The sooner this is settled, the better for everyone.”

  “I’ve been told this is an honor I can’t decline,” he said, wishing she’d tell him otherwise.

  “You’ve been told correctly. You’re Seabourne now.”

  “What if Philip fights my claim? He’s the one who has the most to lose.”

  “Yes, but he’s not stupid. Once the evidence is in front of him, he’ll accept it.”

  Since his cousin had brought the subject up in the first place, Lady Jane might be right. “Philip might accept the evidence, but he’d be happy to have my head on a platter.”

  “He’ll get over it. Luckily, it’s been only six months since he inherited, so he should adjust to being a commoner again without too much trouble. Eventually he’ll be glad, I think. Like your father, he’s very impatient with protocol and the day-to-day business of running a great estate.”

  So was Gavin, but it didn’t look as if he had much choice. Gavin Elliott, seventh Earl of Seabourne. He still hated the idea—but he was getting used to it.

  The door opened, and the duchess floated in. “Hello, Jane. Sorry to interrupt, but Riggs told me you were closeted in here with Gavin.”

  The women exchanged kisses. “I’m his aunt, Rosalind,” Lady Jane said as she took her seat again. “Naturally I had to see how much he resembles my brother, and I’ve been encouraging him to make his claim to the title quickly.”

  The duchess looked thoughtful. “‘ ’Twere well it were done quickly.’ If Gavin’s cousin accepts the situation gracefully, the ball I’m giving for him and Alexandra can be an announcement of his new status.”

  “Excellent! If he’s introduced here, there will be no question of his position.”

  Gavin felt as if he were adrift in a typhoon without sails or rudder as the women began an animated discussion of who should be invited and how the invitations should be worded. “I’m not needed here any longer, am I?”

  “Not at all,” the duchess said cheerfully. “Though you are allowed to invite other guests, of course. As I said before, make a list.”

  A wicked thought struck him. “Please invite Sir Barton and Lady Pierce.” When the duchess lifted her brows with a faint suggestion of disapproval, he added, “I knew him in China. We weren’t particularly friends, but it would be discourteous not to invite him.” Pierce would loathe discovering that Gavin was an earl. It was the only pleasant thought he’d had in connection with this blasted inheritance.

  In the office of the longtime Elliott lawyer, Albert Finn, Philip Elliott examined Gavin’s birth certificate, parents’ marriage lines, and the other documents offered as proof of identity. Included was an affidavit from Lady Jane Holland stating that she recognized her nephew’s scar and was satisfied that he was who he claimed to be. Ashburton, Lord Michael, and the Ashburton lawyer were also present. All would be done properly.

  Face set, Philip placed the documents neatly on the desk. “I accept your claim, my lord. I shall vacate the premises of Elliott House immediately.”

  My lord. It was the first time anyone had addressed Gavin that way, and the words weighed him down like manacles. “There is no need to rush. My wife and I have leased another house for the time being.” He glanced at Albert Finn. “Lady Jane said that Hurley Manor is unentailed.” After Finn agreed, Gavin continued, “I intend to settle the property on you.”

  As the duke and Lord Michael nodded with approval, Philip said, startled, “You’re giving me Hurley? That’s very generous of you.”

  Since the estate had an income of three thousand pounds a year, it was very generous indeed. Gavin stood and offered his hand. “I don’t expect you’re very fond of me, but we are family. Let us at least not be enemies.”

  “I can’t blame you for being alive.” Reluctantly Philip took the proffered hand. “But I wish you’d stayed far, far away.”

  Invitations to the Ashburtons’ ball asked people to come and meet the new Lord and Lady Seabourne.

  Chapter 25

  ALEX GLIDED backward, trying to remember exactly how to make the movement called “cloud arms.” Hearing a small sound, she turned to see that her mother had entered the Ashburton ballroom and was waiting quietly by the door.

  “Sorry to disturb you, but we’re going to have to start decorating in here soon,” Catherine said. “Are you performing an Eastern dance?”

  “Not exactly.” Alex gestured her mother to a chair and sprawled on a small, hard sofa that was set at right angles to it. One of the pleasures of wearing Eastern tunic and trousers was that a female could sprawl. “Tai chi is a Chinese technique for relaxation. Troth—Lady Wrexham—has been teaching me. With Aunt Rosalind’s ball tomorrow night, I thought it would be good to encourage calmness.”

  “The East captured your imagination while you were there?”

  It was not a casual question. Alex reflected before answering. “My months in the Islands contained much that I would like to forget, yet there was power and beauty there. Troth is helping me to understand what is unique and special in the East.”

  “She’s a remarkable young woman. I’m glad you’ve become friends.” Catherine hesitated. “Alexandra, are you and Gavin having problems?”

  The words sent a jolt through Alex. “Don’t you like Gavin?”

  “I like him very much, but you didn’t answer my question. Is your marriage troubled?”

  Alex fidgeted with the arm of the sofa, where the brocade was starting to fray. “What makes you think there’s a problem?”

  “Your inability to give me a straight answer, among other reasons.” Catherine’s voice softened. “I know you had a…a difficult time in the Indies. That sort of thing has to have repercussions later.”

  Her mother knew. Feeling betrayed, Alex sa
id, “Gavin told you what happened?”

  “No, but when I cornered him, he admitted that you’d suffered more than any woman wants for another woman. Especially not for her daughter.” A tremor sounded in Catherine’s voice and was swiftly controlled. “You’ve been a grown woman on the other side of the world for years, but this might be an occasion where maternal advice could be useful. It worries me that there seems to be so much distance between you and Gavin.”

  Alex flushed as she remembered the one time when there hadn’t been any distance. Part of her craved another such encounter, but the intensity and lack of control had been frightening. Worse was knowing how much Gavin wanted more of that intimacy. Though he said nothing, she felt the pressure of his desire, and feared what might happen if passion was unleashed again. “There has been…awkwardness, but he’s been very patient.”

  “That’s a cool way of describing one’s husband. Why did you marry him?”

  Startled by the bluntness of the question, Alex answered with equal bluntness. “Because I was weak and desperate, and he was kind enough to offer the protection of his name. Not the best of reasons for marrying, perhaps, but we can’t all be as lucky as you and the colonel.”

  Catherine’s mouth twisted. “You think it was luck? A good marriage is earned through hard work, Alexandra, and that is even more true of physical intimacy. Though I didn’t suffer what you did, I had ample reason to be grateful for Michael’s patience and kindness. Trust your husband, my dear, even if doing so feels like stepping into the abyss. Trust is the bedrock of a good marriage—more than passion, even more than love.”

  “Did you trust my father that way?” Alex asked defensively.

  Catherine hesitated as she sought for words that would not slander her first husband. “Though Colin had great courage and knew his duty, he was not well suited to marriage. Gavin is nothing like Colin. He is like Michael—the sort of man who will go to hell and back for the woman he loves, but you have to do your part, and that means taking risks. Risk your pride, risk your heart, risk your dreams. It’s the best way for luck to find you.”

  Alex drew her knees up and wrapped her arms around them, feeling like the child she’d been when her mother had met the colonel amidst the tumult of pre-Waterloo Brussels. He’d been a major then, her father had been alive, and Alex had answered to the name Amy. How much had gone on behind the scenes that young Amy hadn’t recognized? More than she wanted to know now—but enough that her mother could speak with authority on the challenges of marriage. “I’ll try to do better. Gavin deserves more than I’ve given so far.”

  “You deserve more, too, my darling.” Catherine rose and hugged her. “Whatever happened to you in slavery was horrible luck, or perhaps a great test of the spirit. It was not punishment for your sins. You were the most intrepid child I’ve ever known, and you’ll have the courage to do what needs to be done, no matter how frightening it seems.”

  How nice that her mother had faith in her. If only Alex had equal faith in herself.

  Ashburton House hummed with anticipation of the ball that was about to begin. Early onlookers gathered in the square to watch the glittering guests who would soon be arriving, and the discordant sounds of tuning instruments floated up from the ballroom.

  Resigned to his fate, Gavin stared morbidly at the well-tailored image in his mirror. “I look like a dashed penguin. Are you familiar with penguins, Hubble? They are birds that live in the far southern seas, and they look as if they’re wearing a rather silly style of formal dress.”

  “I am familiar with the creatures, my lord.” The duke’s valet, who had been assigned to help the guest of honor, was imperturbable. “They look quite handsome in their avian way, just as you look very well in a gentleman’s attire.”

  “My thanks for your efforts. I will try not to disgrace you.”

  Hubble inclined his head, then withdrew to see if Ashburton required further assistance. Wanting to see Alex, Gavin picked up a jewelry box and knocked on his wife’s door to warn her of his entry.

  She was staring into her own mirror. “Is it too late for us to run away to America to avoid this ball?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  She turned from the mirror, and his breath went out of him as if he’d been struck by a swinging spar. Her fashionable blue silk gown opened over a white brocade underskirt, with a close-fitting bodice that emphasized the magnificence of her figure, and décolletage that would make any man dizzy. Her dark hair was artfully swept up and decorated with delicate flowers from the Ashburton glasshouse. It was difficult to see her and remember the thin, desperate woman he’d met in Maduri.

  Her gaze was equally approving. “You look very fine, Gavin. Every inch an earl, no matter how much you dislike the thought.”

  “And you look stunning.”

  She glanced away. “Stunning? Odd. I thought the ‘S’ associated with me stood for ‘Slave’ or ‘Slut’ or ‘Scandal’ or ‘Shame,’ or some other mark of my ruinous past.”

  He should have realized how much her history would weigh on her tonight. At this ball she would face the society in which she’d been raised, knowing that what she had suffered would make people regard her with pity, distaste, or scorn if they knew.

  “The ‘S’ stands for ‘Seabourne.’ No one need know any more than that.” He gave in to temptation and kissed her, keeping it light because this was not the time for anything more. Her lips were cool and her hands icy. “If anyone does learn what happened to you—be damned to them. You’ve done nothing to be ashamed of.”

  She gave him a shaky smile. “And woe betide anyone who rouses your protective instincts by being rude to me. Thank you, Gavin. It means a great deal that you know everything and can still look me in the eye.”

  He could spend the rest of the night looking into those splendidly honest, vulnerable aqua eyes. “Gratitude is mutual. We know so much about each other that marriage was the only solution.”

  She laughed at that. “Then the fates have been kind. I’m going up to the schoolroom to show my gown to the girls. Would you like to come along?”

  “Yes, but first I want to give you these.” He offered the jewelry box. “I bought the stones in Ceylon the day before we were married, and had them set here. A belated wedding present.”

  Alex gasped as she opened the box and saw the glittering sapphire necklace, earrings, and bracelet. “These are beautiful! I…I don’t know what to say.”

  “If you dare say a word about being unworthy, I’ll be strongly tempted to spank you.” He lifted the necklace from the box. “Would you like to wear this tonight?”

  “You know me too well.” She smiled wryly as she unhooked the pearl collar that had been lent by her mother. “Please. They go beautifully with this gown.”

  “I chose them to go with your eyes, though no sapphire has quite that hint of green.” He moved behind her to fasten the necklace, then rested his hands on the bare skin of her shoulders. “The rosebuds in your hair are exquisite, and so are you.” He pressed his lips to her throat above the sparkling gemstones.

  She shivered, and it was not from repulsion. “You have the gift of making a woman feel beautiful, Gavin.”

  “I only speak truth.” He took her arm. “Now let’s dazzle the girls before the hard part of the evening begins.”

  They climbed to the floor above, where the cousins were feasting on a selection of the same delicacies that would be served at the supper later. The girls abandoned their lobster patties and cheese tarts to admire their visitors. “You look like a fairy princess, Mama!” Katie exclaimed.

  Alex laughed. “I’m glad you think so, but in ten years you’ll outshine me.”

  “Never!”

  Anne Kenyon, Alex’s young half sister, said, “Since you’re blond, you’ll be even more fairylike, Katie. Rather like Aunt Rosalind.”

  “But Mama was an actress, which is far more interesting than being a fairy princess,” Lady Maria said firmly.

  The girl
s began a spirited discussion on the relative merits of fairies, princesses, and actresses, so Alex kissed her daughter and they went down to the ball. Just before they stepped out into public, Alex stopped, rigid, as if again contemplating flight.

  Gavin murmured, “Into the breach, my dear.”

  “Soldiers who are first to cross a breached wall invariably die.”

  He wished she hadn’t taken him so literally. “I think you fear how you’ve changed more than you fear the other guests. Tonight will not be as bad as you think.”

  She moistened her lips with her tongue. “The colonel once told me that the events one most wants to avoid are never so bad as expected.”

  “Can he and I both be wrong?” he asked.

  “Let’s hope not.” Head high, she entered the arena.

  Luckily a reception line offered little opportunity to exchange more than bland pleasantries. People eyed Gavin with curiosity, occasionally making sympathetic comments about the loss of his grandfather. Some were interested in his politics, and one old viscount asked outright whether he was Tory or Whig. Gavin dodged the question, since an honest answer about his beliefs would send the fellow into an apoplexy.

  Philip Elliott arrived early. Gavin said, “I’m glad you came tonight.”

  The younger man arched his brows. “One mustn’t let the jackals see the blood.”

  The delicate irony suggested that Philip was past shock and into recovery. He’d survive. But it was a pity he hadn’t been packed off into the navy or another useful profession when he was younger. He’d be a better man for some honest labor—which Gavin recognized as a very American thought. In Britain, being a gentleman was considered full-time employment.

  Beside him, Alex had to deal with greetings from people who knew her family well, and many who had known her when she was a girl. She had buried all traces of her earlier anxieties and was the epitome of charm and graciousness. Her mother’s daughter, and far more of a countess than he was an earl.

 

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