by Allison Lane
“You’ve an excellent touch with girls,” he said once the waltz concluded, nodding toward Harriet.
“I just hope it lasts. She might be under control at the moment, but anything could set her off again.”
They separated, his trust increasing her confidence. He claimed a second waltz after supper, then sighed.
“Do you mind if we leave early?”
“Of course not. You must have been up at dawn to have arrived when you did.”
“Exactly. I must plead weariness, though you will never reveal that fact. No gentleman of distinction would consider retiring at midnight.”
“Nor are you. It is at least half past.” Her attempt at a joke drew his smile.
“Bless you. Father will expect us in the library by nine. Whatever his reasons for coming to town, he will not neglect quizzing us.”
She was again left with the feeling that something was seriously wrong between Sedge and his father, but they were not yet close enough that she could ask for details. Perhaps Reggie could explain.
Only then did she realize that Reggie was absent. And Sedge’s plea of exhaustion did not entirely ring true. Had he realized that his position was in jeopardy? But that did not seem right, either. Wethersby’s report of their journey to Wicksfield had swung the doubters back toward Sedge. Fewer people were whispering that he would lock her away in the country.
They arrived home to find a frowning Husby in the hall. “I was about to send a footman, my lord. Glendale has taken ill. The doctor is on his way.”
“Stomach pains?” asked Sedge.
“And faintness.”
“I will attend him shortly.”
Joanna felt him relax as he accompanied her upstairs, though something was clearly irritating him. “This is quite common,” he swore once they reached their sitting room. “Father is supposed to avoid strenuous activity. Even this trip – which I can make in about ten hours – probably took him two days. And he has a long history of overeating. Huge meals combined with overexertion invariably cause trouble. Last time he was abed a full week.”
“I thought you said he avoided town.”
“He avoids London, but he exerts himself in other ways, riding neck or nothing over the estate, indulging in drunken card parties with neighbors, ringing peals over the heads of the steward, the groundskeeper, and anyone else who annoys him.”
“So I was right. He came here to condemn me and attack you for wedding me.”
He sighed. “We don’t know that, Joanna. But no matter what his reasons, you are not responsible for his illness. He might well have made the trip anyway. He has been trying to force me into marriage for years. His insistence this spring surpassed everything that came before. If I were still unattached, he would have done something to make me follow orders.”
“Very well. Should I await the doctor’s diagnosis?” She doubted Lady Glendale would care for her company, but going to bed made her feel even more of an outsider.
“Get some sleep, if you can. I will need you to be rested tomorrow. If there is anything you can do earlier, I will send for you. Mama is with Father. Who knows where Reggie is, but I expect he will arrive shortly. This is not the first time we have gone through this. Nor will it likely be the last. Sometimes I think Father enjoys the attention these spells bring.”
“Another comment I will not repeat. You are tired indeed. You need rest far more than I do.”
“I will try. Sleep well, Joanna.” Drawing her into a warm embrace, he kissed her gently on the forehead before heading for the other wing.
She lay awake long into the night, trying to make sense of the day’s contradictions. But it was the thought of his warm lips that finally sent her to sleep. The memory invaded her dreams, leaving a longing ache behind.
Yet in the morning, she cursed her obedience. Glendale remained unconscious from an apoplectic seizure suffered during the night. Sedge was gaunt-eyed from lack of sleep.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Sedge escaped to the drawing room, unable to bear his mother’s reproachful looks another minute. She blamed him for the attack, though even the doctor agreed that it wasn’t his fault.
Yet yesterday’s refusal to face the inevitable confrontation haunted him. It was the first time he had defied a demand to talk, and it had probably contributed to this attack.
Damn the old bastard all to hell! What had he hoped to accomplish by coming to town? It was too late to prevent their marriage. Divorce was out of the question, for the scandal would destroy him. Even the canny marquess could not know that an annulment might still be possible.
Or could he?
Servants knew everything, so they must be aware that he had yet to visit his wife’s bed. His mother would have interrogated them when she returned to town. She might even have summoned Glendale. Had they hoped to drive Joanna away before he returned?
“Never,” he vowed, pacing the room. Renewed fury drove exhaustion into hiding. His parents had interfered in his life many times, but this was the last straw.
Now that he considered it, his mother had undoubtedly contributed to the rumors while he had been away. Lady Wicksfield’s credit was too weak for anyone to believe her. And the woman hadn’t the intelligence to concoct some of the stories. Leaving Reggie to escort Joanna should have deflected any suspicions over his absence. Only another family member could have caused the brouhaha he had found last night.
Thomas had warned him, so he had been able to laugh at the questions. And once Wethersby confirmed his quest, most people had applauded his actions. But it still hurt that Society had turned on him the moment he was out of sight, ignoring ten years of exemplary behavior on the word of someone he had been publicly at odds with for nearly that long.
Deliberately seduced him… Left town to escape her scheming… Arranging to incarcerate her… Will certainly annul…
He could hear his mother’s voice uttering every charge. If they had managed to drive Joanna away, Society would believe that he had locked her up. No denials would have erased that impression.
“Is there any change?” asked Joanna, appearing in the doorway.
He tamped down his anger. Without proof, it served no purpose. Only after verifying his suspicions could he decide how to proceed. “He remains in a coma.”
Tears glistened in her eyes. She had been angry that he’d let her sleep through the initial attack, but she could have done nothing. The doctor had already been there. Reggie had been in shock. His mother would have insulted her.
But his decision had fed her guilt. How could he convince her that she was being foolish without revealing that he had been trying to protect her from his mother’s venom? And from his own jealousy, he admitted. He remained unsure which brother she might have comforted.
“Father is the most stubborn man alive,” he said, then flinched at his choice of words. “He has refused to follow his doctor’s orders for years. It was inevitable that it would catch up with him.”
“But it would not have happened now if we had not wed.”
Again he flinched. “Fustian!
“Not fustian. You know he only came here to rebuke us.”
“So blame me. I’m the one who insisted on marriage. I’m the one who scheduled the wedding before he had even learned of our betrothal. And I’m the one who refused to meet with him yesterday.”
“I won’t tolerate you shouldering my guilt. If I had stopped to think, I would not have pounced on Mary that night. I would have realized her occupation and known she would lash out to prevent exposure. Then you wouldn’t be trapped.”
His face heated. So much else had happened that he’d nearly forgotten that confrontation. Thus he hadn’t considered that Joanna might know Jenny’s duties. Former duties. She was now under Lord Peter Barnhard’s protection. But this was no time to discuss it.
Resting his hands on her shoulders, he gazed into her eyes. “You are blameless, Joanna. As am I. Father’s poor judgment brought on this attack. Did you
r own father teach you nothing about God’s will?”
“God’s will does not require a man to martyr himself on the altar of public opinion. But it does admonish children to obey their parents.”
Ouch.
“The doctor has returned, my lord,” said Husby from the doorway.
Sedge sighed. Somehow he must convince Joanna that he did not regret wedding her – not an easy task, considering that it had initially been true, and one that must wait until later. “I am coming,” he told Husby, then turned back to his wife. “This is not the time to argue blame or guilt or anything else. Once this unpleasantness is behind us, we will discuss everything openly and honestly. In the meantime, ask Cook to set out a cold collation in the breakfast room. I doubt any of us will be sitting down to regular meals. And send regrets to Lady Delwyn and the Heberts. We will not be going out tonight.”
Releasing her, he followed the doctor to his father’s bedchamber.
* * * *
Joanna stared at the empty doorway. Here was more proof that she would never be part of this family. He would not have spoken to his secretary so sharply.
Of course, he was exhausted and probably terrified. No matter what disagreements existed between them, losing a parent was difficult. And he probably felt as guilty as she did.
So her reaction was unfair, she admitted as she headed downstairs to find the cook. Sedge must recognize his mother’s antagonism. Introducing his wife into the sickroom would increase Lady Glendale’s distress. And if Glendale awakened to find her there, he might suffer another attack.
Nor should she have mentioned Mary. Aristocratic wives ignored their husbands’ liaisons. She could hardly demand that Sedge give up his mistress for a wife he hadn’t wanted. That was no way to foster closer rapport.
But whatever Sedge’s motives for isolating her, she had no excuse for brooding about it. A single week of marriage was hardly long enough to recover from the shock, let alone adjust to the reality they both faced. Yet they were slowly making progress. Perhaps he wanted to make this union work. It might be the realization of how little they knew each other that had led to his vow of an open, honest discussion once his father recovered.
* * * *
“There you are, Doctor,” exclaimed Lady Glendale when they arrived in the sickroom. “Glendale’s eyes just blinked.”
Sedge raised his brows at Reggie, wondering if she was imagining a change.
“It’s true,” he said. “His hand also twitched.”
Relief weakened his knees. Perhaps this would relieve Joanna’s guilt. This attack might be the most serious yet, but it was far from the first. Nor would it be the last. Eventually one of them would kill him.
“If you will leave the room, I can examine his lordship,” said the doctor.
Reggie helped Lady Glendale rise, then followed Sedge across the hall. He left the door open so they could hear any summons.
“He will be all right now,” said Lady Glendale.
“Perhaps.” Sedge was unwilling to predict the future. Though there had been no lasting effects from earlier attacks, none had produced so prolonged a coma. “But he must follow the doctor’s orders from now on.”
“He won’t.” Her response confirmed what they all knew. Glendale’s anger when his activities were curtailed was as dangerous as overexertion.
Conversation lagged. Reggie joined him in pacing the floor. The waiting was intolerable. Even his mother was restless. Her hands twisted, shredding a handkerchief.
He paused at the window, noting that straw had been laid down in front of the house to deaden the noise of hooves on cobblestones. The custom was meant to ease the suffering of the dying, but he doubted whether Glendale could hear sounds from the square even if he regained his faculties. His bedchamber faced the garden behind the house. The only real purpose the straw served was to advertise the severity of Glendale’s illness.
He resumed his pacing.
The doctor was taking forever, raising his apprehension. Had the marquess suffered yet another attack? He was on the verge of checking when the man finally appeared.
“Lord Glendale has emerged from his coma,” he announced as he joined Lady Glendale on the settee.
“Thank God!” She sagged against the back. “How long until he can rise.”
The doctor cleared his throat. “I cannot say, my lady.”
Reggie stared as Lady Glendale gasped.
“Out with it,” growled Sedge. “Suspense is inappropriate under the circumstances.”
“The seizure caused considerable damage. Though he is conscious and understands simple requests, he is unable to speak. Nor can he move his right arm or leg at the moment.” He patted Lady Glendale’s hand in an ineffectual gesture of comfort.
“Is the condition permanent?” asked Reggie.
“It is too early to tell. While many patients remain paralyzed, others improve with time. This may be a temporary annoyance while his body works on making a full recovery. Or some form of impairment might remain for the rest of his days.”
“How often does a man in his state actually recover?” demanded Sedge, irritated at the doctor’s dithering.
“I have seen it happen,” he insisted, again patting Lady Glendale’s hand. “Each case is different, so no purpose is served by comparing one to another. It is important that Lord Glendale remain calm. He is understandably frustrated over his current state. Further irritation will lessen his chances of recovery. Anger can trigger another fit, which might kill him. Do nothing to annoy him.”
Leaving them stunned, he retired to the marquess’s bedchamber.
Reggie was the first to react, reaching for his mother’s hand.
She recoiled. “How dare you pretend sympathy after causing this trouble!”
“Enough, Mother,” commanded Sedge. “We are all in shock, but that does not excuse saying something you will regret.”
“Regret?” Her voice rose to a scream as her temper shattered. “How can one regret the truth?” She glared at Reggie. “You are killing him. Your spiteful stubbornness has caused most of his spells. Last night was the final straw. How could you refuse to do your duty? It is a small price to pay for the wealth and power you will soon enjoy.” Her voice cracked, but she swept on. “You know that marriage need not curtail your other activities, yet you swore to his face that you would abandon the marquessate rather than wed. Don’t deny it,” she added as he opened his mouth. “I overheard every word. He ordered you to wed. You refused. And your language! We will become laughingstocks. Everyone heard you. You were shouting so loudly, passers-by in the square must have heard you. He would not be lying in that bed if you showed the least loyalty to your family. You heard the doctor. Only calm will allow him to recover. So give him that calm. Choose a bride so he can be at peace.”
“You are absurd, madam.” Reggie was hanging on to his own temper with difficulty.
“If anyone is absurd, it is you. Why do we have such ungrateful sons? And I do mean ungrateful,” she continued, turning her glare toward Sedge. “You are just as guilty. How dare you marry a nobody without even looks to recommend her? You have made a mockery of everything this family represents.”
“Lie down, Mother,” he said. “Your nerves have overset you.”
“Overset me!” She surged to her feet, slapping his face. “You have overset me! You are deliberately ignoring your heritage. Don’t you dare trot out that ridiculous claim that you had no choice,” she added as he stared at her in shock. “Her breeding is so base that anyone of sensibility must consider her a trollop. She is fit for nothing beyond whoring in the streets.”
“Enough, madam!”
“You must accept the truth, Sedgewick. That girl is a disgrace.”
“I said enough, madam!” Anger boiled in his chest.
“You are so stupid,” she snapped. “Why did you not wield your vaunted credit? You know very well that you could have escaped her greedy clutches. No one would have dared criticize your ju
dgment. If you had exposed her as a grasping fortune hunter, Society would have applauded. Instead, you let her besmirch your good name. Half of Society already ridicules your judgment, and the other half questions your taste. The young men are abandoning you in droves. Your reputation is in shambles. You will be driven from town in a fortnight.”
“You exaggerate—”
“Never! And you actually had the gall to install her in my house! How can you expect me to be civil to her?” She wrung her hands. “Why did you return so soon? If only you had stayed away, Glendale could have convinced the archbishop to annul this abomination. But it can still be done. File the application, Sedgewick. Ease your father’s suffering. Restore his faith in you.”
“What the—”
She ignored his shock. “If it is too late for an annulment, at least have the decency to hide her away in the country so people can forget the stain you have placed on our name. The arrangements are already in place. And Reginald must wed immediately. We cannot allow her baseborn blood to taint the marquessate.” She turned to her oldest son. “Lady Dorothy will arrive in two days. I already have the special license. We will expect an heir within the year.”
“Absolutely not!” Reggie fisted his hands. “You have gone too far this time, madam. Way too far. Despite my repeated vows to have nothing to do with that brainless wench, you persist in pursuing an alliance. Do not deny it,” he charged over her protest. “Do you think I am stupid? Your vow that I would wed her has already done her untold harm. Her father turned down Sir Henry’s offer barely a month ago. Now you have ruined her beyond redemption, for I will not take her. Ever. I would see the marquessate revert to the crown first. And I will send her father a letter describing your unconscionable lies. You will have to live with the dishonor for the rest of your life.”
Sedge fought past the red mist that had obscured his eyes at the lengths his parents had been willing to go. If he had returned even a day later, Joanna would have been gone without a trace. “Your arrogance surpasses anything I’ve ever seen,” he growled, pushing her back on the settee and looming over her. “I will excuse your rudeness because I know you are concerned for Father’s health, but you will never utter such rot again. Your efforts to discredit Joanna have failed. She is accepted by all but your bosom bows, most of whom are reevaluating their position at this very moment, for your lies have now been exposed as the calumny they are. My credit is as firm as ever. You need a new source of gossip, by the way,” he continued, dredging up a hint of his public facade. “The only truth you have ever spoken about Joanna is that her father is a vicar. There is nothing wrong with her breeding, nor with her looks. And her virtue was never in doubt. The only thing havy-cavy about her mother’s marriage was her uncle’s hope that she would wed the older brother, but when she chose the younger, he agreed. And believing Lady Wicksfield makes you look ridiculous. The woman is a brainless schemer pursuing a personal quarrel. She has long blamed Joanna’s mother for Wicksfield’s decision to keep her in the country – a decision based solely on her own reckless spending. And she was furious when Wicksfield placed Joanna in charge of the household.”