His Unexpected Bride

by Jo Ann Ferguson

  His wife!

  There was the gist of the problem. She was his wife, to have and to hold. He had held her and now he wanted … her! He wanted her soft and willing in his arms as he watched her vibrant eyes burn with the passion that plagued him. Other relationships had been simpler, because the other women in his life had understood right from the onset what was to be between them. None of them had expected marriage, and it was the greatest irony that, now that he had a wife, he was denying himself the very pleasure he had enjoyed with those others.

  This had to be resolved, one way or the other. But to make Tess his wife in more than name chanced opening himself up to someone as he never had, because he knew she would settle for nothing less than the very honesty she offered him.

  “Cameron, you know you do not wish me to help you solve this problem.” Pamela Livingstone watched as Cameron paced the floor of her pretty parlor, which was the perfect complement for her own loveliness.

  “If I had not wanted that, do you think I would have demeaned myself to come to beg for your assistance?”

  She laughed. “You do not play the petitioner well.”

  Cameron scowled, for her words were too reminiscent of ones Tess had spoken to him not so long ago. “I did not give you a call so you could ridicule me.”

  “Ridicule? You know that is not my intention. As well, we both know I cannot undo whatever contretemps you have created now with Tess, so you must have come here for another reason.”

  “Pamela, I am quite aware you are with Stedley now. I would never suggest you and I resume what we once shared.”

  Again she laughed. “Dear Cameron, even more poorly than you play the petitioner, you take on the role of the gallant ex-lover.” Holding out the plate of cakes, she waited until he had sat and chosen one. “It was by mutual consent, as you recall, that we ended our affaire de coeur.”

  “I do recall that.”

  “We both know I am very happy with the viscount, and we both know you should be very happy with your charming wife.”

  “Charming?”

  “You sound surprised.”

  “I am not, but I had not expected you to speak so of Tess.”

  “If you are in such a pelter you cannot own to that obvious truth, mayhap you should not have come calling.”

  He set himself on his feet once again and strode toward the door. There, he paused. Looking back, he saw Pamela was still smiling.

  “Well?” she asked.

  “It is true.” He clasped his hands behind his back. “Tess is very charming. Too charming, if you must know the truth.”

  “Aha!”

  “Aha?” He knew that self-satisfied tone. It meant Pamela believed she had gotten the better of him, something that had not happened often in their year together. Something that had happened already many more times with Tess in the short time she had been in his life.

  “Do sit for more than a half second, Cameron, and tell me why you seem to be distressed that your wife is so charming she sends you fleeing from the comfort of her arms to my side.”

  He walked to the chair where he had been sitting and leaned his hands on the back. “I do not wish to speak of Tess.”

  “Oh?” Her eyebrows rose, and she smiled. “I had no idea you were developing such a tendre for your wife.”

  “What gives you cause to say that?”

  “You have always been frank with me.” She picked up her cup and sipped her tea. “As frank as you are with anyone, but now you are being even more reticent than usual. It would seem you have more reason than usual to keep your counsel, and that suggests to me there are feelings growing between you and your wife. Cameron, I am so pleased for you.”

  “Tess is not the reason I called.”

  “No?”

  Picking up his own cup, he said, “You always know all the rumors that flutter through the ton, Pamela. What have you heard of the cause of my brother’s death?”

  “Cause?” She put her hand to her chest as her voice caught on the single word. “Other than that the carriage accident was a terrible tragedy, I have heard nothing more than the usual supposition when someone is killed suddenly.”

  “You need not try to protect Stedley. I have already spoken with him, and he has offered information that adds to the questions that have been bothering me about the incident.” Cameron did not add that the viscount was the one who had given credence to the questions swirling through the back of his mind.

  Pamela relaxed, her studied smile vanishing. “I had hoped John would tell you what he knew.”

  “And what else do you know?”

  “I know Russell was rumored to be in a great deal of trouble.”

  “Do you know what sort of trouble?”

  She shook her head. “From what I heard from Major Carey, it began more than a year ago.”

  “It? You mean the blackmail?”

  “Yes. Russell was involved in something that must have been so horrible he did not want anyone to learn of it. Your friend Eustace Knox is as well, I fear.” She hesitated, then said, “Take care you do not get mixed up in whatever it is, too. You have the opportunity to have a happy life with your wife. Do not keep asking questions that might bring you information to ruin that.”

  “I am not sure I can stop without knowing the truth.”

  She lowered her eyes. When she did not reply, Cameron walked out of the room and out of her house. Pamela had not told him anything he already had not known, either about his brother and his friend or about what he risked.

  Fifteen

  It was everything Tess had ever dreamed of. Much more, truthfully, because she had never imagined she would be part of such a glittering assembly. The room was grand, from the marble floors polished until they shone like porcelain to the ceiling decorated with friezes highlighted with the same light green as the walls. The draperies at the windows, which must have been more than fifteen feet tall, had been pulled back to fall in elegant folds of a deeper green toward the floor. In the very center of the ceiling, a chandelier with more crystal drops than she could count lit the guests who thronged in glorious white silks and perfectly cut evening coats.

  With one hand tucked into Cameron’s elbow and the other holding the ivory and silk fan that had been delivered along with her dress, which was a darker shade of emerald than the draperies, Tess took a bolstering breath as he led her into the room. She had not recognized herself when Jenette completed her ministrations, for never had she worn her hair in such ornate curls or had pearls strung through her hair.

  Cameron’s hand covered hers, and she looked up at him. He was dressed de rigueur in his black coat which was free of any lint, and his white breeches. Yet, she had to own—if only to herself—he looked far more handsome when he was dressed casually while working with his plant samples.

  “You have faced worse than this,” he said in a hushed voice.

  “Have I?”

  “You faced me on the morning after our impromptu wedding.” He chuckled. “If you can endure that temper, my dear, you can endure this evening, when everyone will be eager to lavish you with compliments.”

  Startled by the endearment, she blurted, “I do know the difference between Spanish coin and the truth.”

  “’Twill be the truth that you are the loveliest woman here tonight.”

  “A compliment from you, Your Grace?” That was the wrong thing to say she realized when his smile vanished. Quickly she added, “Cameron, you must not flinch each time someone calls you that.”

  “Nor must you.”

  “I shall try not to.”

  His thumb brushed her chin, tipping it up to see he was once again smiling. “I have seen how hard you try, Tess. Tonight, while you bewitch those around us, I hope to find information on the very devil who was involved in my brother’s death.”

  Tess quickly discovered Cameron meant just what he had said. He wandered about the room, introducing her to so many people she could not sort out the litany of names. His conve
rsation always focused on those who were owed money by his brother. Amazed at how many among the ton had lent funds to the duke, she worked to keep a smile in place. This was not the evening she had dreamed of, when she would be dancing in Cameron’s arms, but she was fascinated to listen to how he allowed the other men to bring up the subject of his brother and his brother’s debts.

  When she heard a familiar laugh behind her, Tess could not keep from tensing. She heard Cameron greet Eustace Knox with obvious enthusiasm. Wishing she could devise a way to excuse herself from this conversation, she was dismayed to hear Cameron say, “Do me a favor, old chap, and bring Tess something to drink. I fear we have both talked ourselves quite dry.”

  “Cameron—”

  He silenced her by squeezing her hand, which he withdrew from his arm. “Pardon me, my dear, while I speak to a gentleman who has been anxiously awaiting the chance to talk with me all evening.” He pushed his way through the crowd ringing the floor, where some of the guests were dancing to the music provided by the orchestra set in an alcove to one side of the room.

  Eustace halted a passing servant and handed Tess a glass of wine from the tray the man carried. “You look lovely this evening, Your Grace.”

  “Thank you.” She knew she had no choice but to be friendly to Cameron’s tie-mate.

  And Cameron was right. How could she place all the blame at Mr. Knox’s feet? Her father could have halted the wedding, too, if he had not been as drunk as the other men. Her fingers closed tightly on the stem of the crystal glass. Now that she knew Cameron better, she realized being drunk as an emperor was not customary for him. She wondered why he had drunk himself nearly into oblivion that night. Another question that seemed to have no answer, because he could not tell her. Could Mr. Knox?

  Her smile became more sincere. “I suppose it would not be proper to reply that you look quite well yourself.”

  He laughed. “With comments like that, you are certain to win the attention of every man in this room.”

  “That is not my intention.”

  “’Tis only one man’s attention you wish to garner, I collect.”

  Tess knew she should be circumspect. “It is a wife’s place to think only of her husband’s attentions.”

  “That does not sound like you.”

  “What? I am his wife, and I should not—”

  Taking her arm, Eustace drew her toward the back corner of the room. “Do not mistake my observation for something it was not meant to be. I simply am amazed you would be so docile in the pursuit of what you want. You are your father’s daughter, after all.”

  “That sounds like an insult.”

  “Quite the contrary. I admire your father’s determination to get what he believes is his due, Tess. I trust I may address you so informally now that you are my friend’s wife.” He rested his elbow on a mantel above an unlit hearth. “We might as well call each other by our given names, as we shall be seeing much of each other in the years to come.”

  “Yes.”

  “So Cameron has given up the silly idea of trying to put an end to your marriage?”

  Making her face a mask to hide her true reaction, she said, “It is not a matter of which we speak any longer.” She hoped Eustace would continue the conversation in such a way that she could be honest and still not embarrass her husband.

  Her hope was dashed when he chuckled. “Does that mean we shall soon be hearing an announcement of an heir to his title?”

  “That will happen when it happens.”

  He smiled and leaned toward her. “There is a wager among many of us at the club that the first will be born before the year’s end.”

  “But that would have meant that before the wedding I—” She raised her fan as a shield between them. Looking at him over it as she wafted it gently, she said, “I collect you have put an end to such absurd gossip.”

  “Why should I when I can take wagers they have no chance of winning?” He laughed, then choking, began to cough.

  Tess pressed her glass into his hand, but he continued to cough as if something was jammed in his throat. She held up the glass to him, tipping it so he could drink without any wine spilling down his waistcoat.

  “Are you all right?” she asked when he ceased coughing.

  “More,” he whispered.

  She complied, again holding the glass to his lips. She saw heads turning toward them, but she concentrated on helping him drink enough to ease the cough. “Mayhap, Eustace,” she said as she drew it back, “you should take care with what you are prattling about. Your own sense of fair play may have made it impossible for you to swallow your words about a bet you cannot help but win.”

  “I am doing the wise thing.” He tapped her nose and smiled when she pulled back, shocked, at his outrageous motion, which suggested she was no older than Donald. “You should consider doing the same thing, Tess.”

  “Thank you. I shall.” Shoving the glass into his hand, she crossed the ballroom. What an obnoxious man! Even being loyal to a friend was not reason enough for Cameron to insist on her enduring Eustace Knox’s company.

  Where was Cameron? In the press of the guests in the huge room she had not guessed would become so crowded, she could not see him. She paused, knowing she could wander about for the rest of the evening and not find him in this ballroom. Closing her eyes, she tried to listen for his voice. Other conversations pummeled her, but she sifted through them.

  “Your Grace, I do hope I am not intruding.”

  She affixed a smile in place as she turned to see a dark-haired woman she did not know. “No, you are not.”

  “I have so wanted to meet you. I am—”

  A man grasped Tess’s hand and bowed over it, tearing her attention from the woman as he began to gush compliments. Before Tess could even reply, another man pushed forward to kiss her hand—rather too warmly, she thought as she extracted it from his grip. His name went unheard as well when a second woman, wearing even more jewelry than the first, began to prattle.

  She knew each of them hoped to make a favorable impression on the newest Duchess of Hawkington, and she could not ease away when she was surrounded. It was, she decided, going to be a long evening.

  Tess sighed with relief when she tossed her shawl onto a chair in the parlor. “Why didn’t you warn me, Cameron?”

  “About what?”

  “About how tiring a soirée could be.”

  He drew off his coat and put it atop her shawl on the chair. “You would not have heeded me.”

  “If—”

  “Do not lather me with nothing-sayings, Tess. Have you ever heeded anything I have said to you?”

  She was taken aback by his tone. The only word she could think to describe it was surly. Mayhap he was as exhausted as she was, because she had not had a moment to herself the whole evening. Nor, she realized thinking back on it, had she had more than a few minutes with Cameron.

  “I have tried to listen to any good counsel you have offered me,” she retorted, knowing she should hold her tongue, but too fatigued to care just now. “The only thing you said to me was to bewitch—yes, that was your exact word—the guests so you might find out more about what had happened to Russell.”

  “Which you succeeded in doing.”

  “Thank you.”

  “That I did not mean as a compliment.” He walked across the room as if he could not bear to be close to her. “Mayhap you do not know, because you were so busy chatting, but many of the guests were discussing why you and my best friend were whispering so close together in a corner when we are so newly married.”

  “What?” She searched her mind, then said, “Oh, you must mean when Eustace was coughing, and I offered him my wine.”

  “Was that all you offered him?”

  She abruptly despised his unemotional voice. He was angry. Why didn’t he just show it? Determined he would not best her at this game of wills, she said, “You denied once that you would be a jealous husband, Cameron. It seems you were wrong.�
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  “Pointing a finger at me does not lessen your unthinking actions.”

  “Would you have rather I let your friend choke to death?” She shook her head. “Cameron, what is wrong with you? This is not like you. After all, you asked Eustace to get me something to drink while you spoke with someone about your brother.”

  “True. I have allowed your flirtations to unsettle me far more than I should.”

  “I was not flirting with Eustace Knox!”

  “Mayhap not, but it appeared to too many of the guests that you were. Whether you were or not is now irrelevant.” He combed his fingers back through his hair. “By the elevens, Tess, I thought you said you were aware of the vagaries of the ton and what you must do to avoid creating gossip about yourself—and your husband by association—that tarnishes your reputation.”

  “Reputation? Worrying about my reputation led to this catastrophe. If I had not cared so much about my reputation and feared I would be ruined, destroying any chance for a happy life, I would have tossed you out of my father’s house as well as my bed.”

  “Tess,” he said in a low growl, “take care what you say.”

  “Why? What worse can befall us than has already?” She swallowed, hard. This was not the way her first night among the ton was supposed to end. She had imagined them coming back here and sitting and laughing together about the odd things the guests had said and done. And then she would have slipped into his arms and … she choked back a sob. “I wish I had remained in the country with Papa.”

  “You are free to leave.” He gestured toward the door. “Hurry yourself back to your father’s house, if you wish.”

  “And?”

  “Stay there until you can speak without such hysteria.”

  Tess scowled and muttered an oath that would have earned her a reprimand from Papa if he had chanced to hear it, although she had heard him speak it more than once. She was not hysterical. She was the one who was remaining calm through this brangle. Cameron may not have raised his voice, but he was being irrational.