by Kya Lind
A dinner, Greyson was concerned with how pale Honesty looked. The stress of the past few days was showing in the lines of exhaustion that edged her mouth and eyes. She seemed so withdrawn from the activities surrounding them. She only answered questions directed at her and was not eating again. Greyson wondered when the last time she had eaten was. He grimaced as he contemplated what this stress would do to her health in the next two days until he could get all these people to leave his house.
She looked up quickly and their eyes meet. Hers filled with dread and resignation before she dropped them again. Grey frowned harder when he realized that he had been frowning in his displeasure at the situation. He could see that she had misinterpreted his expression. Before he could think of a way to explain, Captain Williams stood and called for the other's attention.
“It is with great pleasure that I announce the engagement of my daughter Prudence to Lord Bryon,” the guests cheered and toasted the couple. When they had settled down, he continued. “And the engagement, of my oldest daughter, Honesty to the Duke of Devonshire.”
The audience again clapped and toasted. Greyson noted that Mrs. Williams had not raised her eyes from her plate or showed any expression throughout the announcements. Greyson held Honesty’s hand up and she smiled weakly at the other guests.
Greyson stood, “Thank you, my friends. The official announcement will not be made until the ball tomorrow night. We will expect each of you back here for the September wedding.” Captain Williams, having been informed of the plan, smiled and toasted the couple yet again.
“Now, let’s continue with our token game. I know that each of you noticed the lovely boxes sat before you on the table.” The crowd chuckled as the content of the boxes had been the conversation of the whole dinner. The boxes were gaily wrapped in different colors and the boxes were different sizes. One of the boxes sat in front of each guest at the table. They waited with bated breath for permission to reach for them. “We congratulate everyone on a game well played.”
The guests reached with eager hands for their boxes. Paper ripped and people gasped in delight as the contents of their boxes were revealed. Each lady held in her hands a miniature locket on a silver chain. The gems of ruby, opal, sapphire, garnet, and other lesser stones sparkled in the lamp light. Each one different and unique. Each much smaller than the original, but still beautiful. Each man held a silver brandy flask with a little heart engraved on it.
Greyson had not watched the guests open theirs; his eyes were fixed solely on Honesty as she hesitantly pulled her small box forward and opened the lid. Her eyes widened slightly as she spied the emerald locket nestled among the golden, silk cloth. Greyson pulled the locket out and looped the chain around her slender neck. Their eyes met as he fastened the clasp. “Now, it is where it has always belonged,” he whispered for her ears only.
The duchess dismissed the group from the table and the others moved to the game room. Greyson led Honesty in the direction of the group without escorting his grandmother to her suites as usual.
Once in the game room, they were bombarded by women wanting to see the engagement rings. Greyson made a great show of pulling Honesty’s glove off slowly to expose the glittering diamond cluster beneath. The women had squealed in delight and sighed in envy at the quality of the ring as it sparkled and danced faint rainbows of prisms around the room. After an hour of enduring the women’s gushing, Greyson signaled and Teresa moved to extract Honesty from the room and escort her to the nursery.
As she entered the nursery, she found Maggie waiting as usual; her eyes wide in her tired, little face. Honesty scooped her up and sat in the rocking chair. As Maggie’s soft body relaxed against hers, Honesty felt the tears threaten to melt the numbest that had settled around her. She forced the tears away, refusing to give up the feelings of nothingness that allowed her to keep going. She wouldn’t think about any of it. She wouldn’t let herself. She forced her mind blank and just rocked her baby sister for hours.
Chapter 13
Greyson stood at the top of the stairs to the ballroom and welcomed the guest beside his grandmother. He scowled behind his mask. Because of an emergency, a dispute between two farmers, Greyson had been required to ride to Westcot Abbey that morning and had barely arrived in time to dress for the ball. He had not as yet even caught a glimpse of Honesty and her family among the hundreds of people that swirled around them. Greyson grimaced as another matron presented her marriageable daughter; her actions and words almost demanding that he dance with the girl. He declined without preamble. His grandmother gave him a look that told him to mind his manners. Why had he ever thought a ball would be a good idea? He must have lost his ever loving mind.
As another mother and daughter approached, Greyson quickly bowed himself out and escaped into the ballroom itself. He watched as the dancers lined-up for a country set. He searched the crowd for the telling sign of Honesty in her new, yellow silk ball gown. He had chosen the material himself and waited impatiently to see her in the finished creation.
Greyson spotted Pretty as she twirled with an unrecognized dance partner on the floor. Her beautiful, pale pink silk gown swirled around her legs as the young man she was dancing with smiled at something she had said. Greyson watched in amazement as the once shy girl changed partners in the dance back to her original. Lord Bryon stepped passed her and said something in her ear that made her laugh. The duke noted that she fairly glowed from the red-head’s attention. Greyson adjusted his mask so he could see better. He was glad that someone was enjoying their engagement and this wretched ball. He just wanted them all to go away. He attempted to pluck a glass off a tray as it went by, but missed and the servant with the tray strolled away. Where was she? Greyson stiffened as he caught the sight of a matron towing a young eligible in his direction. He spun around and started for the door, only to stop abruptly as he nearly stumbled over Honesty. She had been standing directly behind him. Her hand raised as if to tap him on the shoulder. As he staggered forward in an attempt to keep them both upright, his hands closed around her waist. They managed to right themselves after Honesty had taken several steps backwards. “Are you all right? I am sorry.” Greyson apologized as he steadied them. “I have been looking for you everywhere.” He growled against her ear. “Ask me to dance.”
Honesty’s eyes glittered through her mask as she followed his gaze to the approaching matron. “Kind sir, could I impose upon you to dance with me?” She repeated the words of their introduction.
Greyson swept her away as the first sounds of a waltz began. “Always and forever,” he answered. Their steps perfectly matched as he danced her around the ballroom. He frowned as he realized he could not see her face for the mask she was wearing. It covered her whole face except for her perfectly shaped mouth and chin. She ducked her head down and watched their feet as they waltzed. Greyson chaffed at the requirement to keep a proper distance between their bodies. He wanted to pull her as close as they had been two nights ago. He had been a fool to suggest this ridiculous ball. He scowled down at the top of her bent head and maneuvered them to the terrace doors just as the music ended. Without asking, he led her onto the veranda and down the two flights of stairs to the garden.
“Walk with me.” Greyson’s words were not a question.
“Well, if you promise to keep your hands and everything else to yourself.” He could hear the humor in her voice.
Greyson pulled her mask off in a single motion, before pulling his off as well. “Not likely,” he answered in the dim light. Taking her arm, he pulled her toward the garden path.
The gardens were hung with colored lights along the paths and alcoves. Greyson growled at how many people strolled up and down the paths. There were was many people in the gardens as there were in the ballroom. Every few step they were required to greet someone. Greyson became more frustrated with every turn. There were people in every nook and crank. Giving up after a half hour, Greyson led Honesty back to the house and handed her the yellow feathered mask again. At t
he top of the stairs, he steered them toward the buffet room.
After filling their plates, they moved to be seated at the table reserved for his family. The table was already crowded and several people had to move down to make room so that Honesty could sit next to Greyson. Several more offered them congratulations on their betrothal. Greyson watched as her again only picked at her food. He couldn’t read her expression through the infernal mask.
By the time they had finished the meal and made their way back to the ballroom, Honesty had completely withdrawn into herself, and Greyson was ready to spit nails. As he pulled her into his arms for another unsatisfactory waltz, Greyson was glad to see the whispers and stared they were generating. Maybe now that word of their engagement had spread, he could find some relieve from the bothersome mothers and their daughters. He looked down at his intended as they danced. Her head was bowed again. He couldn’t see her eyes. What was she thinking? She certainly wasn’t enjoying the party. This hadn’t gone at all as he had envisioned. He pulled her a bit closer. She smelled strongly of lavender and something else. He didn’t like it. The overpowering smell stuffed up his nose. He could tell from the way she was breathing that the blasted corset was too tight again. He just wanted to drag her out of here and find a nice quiet place to talk; his study maybe. But he couldn’t. He didn’t know when his grandmother would be making the announcement. They had to be here for that. Surely it would be soon. Who could he drag away from the ball that wouldn’t mind chaperoning them? He chaffed at the necessity for a third person. Why did society make this so impossible? Greyson growled again. At Honesty’s quick upward glance and then down, he realized that she had misread his aggravation again.
Greyson, with Honesty on his arm, introduced her to his guests between four more waltzes. He could have cheered when his grandmother called for everyone’s attention and prompted the unveiling of the guests. Masks were quickly pulled off. Greyson swept Honesty’s off in a flourish. He stared at her face in amazement. The scowl returning to his face. “What is that?” he demanded, his thumb sliding across her cheek.
Startled, Honesty stammered, “Face powder, Your Grace, and rogue.”
“Do not wear it again. I do not want your face painted.” His voice fairly snarled in aggravation as his grandmother publicly announced their engagement. He raised her hand and smiled at all the applauding guests, and then swept her into the expected waltz.
He looked down on Honesty’s bowed head, and wondered how to get them out of here. Maybe he could entice his Aunt Patricia into leaving the ball as their chaperone.
After the dance, he weaved their way through a sea of well-wishers. It took another hour to reach his grandmother’s side. Just as he had leaned down to whisper something in her ear, a footman appeared with a message from his steward.
Greyson flipped the parchment open and explained, “Bloody hell! Tonight?” He studied the note again, before studying Honesty. She could tell that he really didn’t see her as he concentrated on the message. “Grandmother, I must go. There is an emergency. Sorry, dear,” he addressed Honesty, “I must take care of this immediately. I may not be back until morning.” He kissed first Honesty’s cheek and then the older lady’s, and then he was gone leaving his intended in the care of his grandmother.
♣♣♣
Greyson raked his hand through his hair as he struggled to pull the stocking on straight. His valet, Bonner, fussed around him. “Stop that, you will just delay me more.” He pushed his feet down in the highly polished black boots. He was going to be late for his own wedding. He jerked his white silk shirt on. He could not believe that the dispute between the two farmers had erupted into a clan war that threatened to tear one of his smaller towns apart. Greyson had spent the night and all of today, sending for re-enforcement to discourage the bloodshed that was about to explode. He twisted the buttons through the eyeholes while batting Bonner’s hands away. His presence had been necessary to keep the sides in check until his guards could be rounded up and dispatched to patrol the area. As soon as he was able, he had ridden hide-to-leather to arrive on time. He didn’t even have time for a bath. He must smell just lovely, he thought ruefully. He struggled into his black vest and buttoned it while Bonner fussed with his neck cloth. Greyson pulled his black silk top hat over his still damp hair and moved toward the door with Bonner still fussing.
Greyson jogged across the formal rose garden in the dark, pulling on his jacket. He arrived at the chapel just was the music faded away. Greyson paused at the back of the chapel and took in the view. Lord Bryon stood before the Priest, holding Pretty’s hands in his. She was dressed in the pale pink ball gown of the night before. On the left side of the church were all the members of the Williams family and on the right were a dozen of his. Lord Bryon did not have any family presence. The young red-head was grinning like an idiot again and stuttering through his vows. Greyson walked to the front to stand next to Honesty. He could not tear his eyes away from her. She was beautiful in her yellow ball gown. The candle light flickered off the dewy brightness of her eyes. He stopped beside her and pulled her hand into his and squeezed gently. She returned his gesture. Greyson leaned closer and smiled. She smelled faint of vanilla again and her beautiful face was scrubbed clean to show her nature beauty. He vaguely heard Pretty repeating her vows. Honesty sniffed. He heard Abby bouncing up and down on the wooden pew behind them and realized he was probably blocking the family’s view of their daughter’s wedding. He put his hands on Honesty’s waist from the back and forced her to step forward so that he could move behind her. Once positioned out of the way, he refused to remove his hands and instead slid them around her waist to pull her carefully back against him.
“You may now kiss the bride,” the priest declared. Honesty giggled quietly as Pretty threw her arms around Walter’s neck and proceeded to cover his face with kisses. Walter pulled her closer until she stopped squirming and returned the affection with a kiss of his own.
After a minute the Priest uhhhmmffed, and the couple came up for air.
“Your Grace?” stated the priest. Pretty and Walter moved away from center stage, and Greyson moved Honesty forward. He released her waist and caught her hands. When they were standing face to face with each other before the altar, Greyson pulled her left hand up to lay it over his heart. As he repeated his vows, his eyes never wavered from hers. As the priest asked Honesty to repeat her vows, a look of doubt passed through her eyes. She looked back at her father in a quick glance and then at him before repeating after the priest. Greyson felt disconcerted by that look. He knew he should not have been surprised by it, but he still found it disheartening.
When asked for the ring, Greyson slipped a ring that cradled the one she was already wearing. The two rings nested together to form one. He slid her hand back to his heart.
“You may kiss the bride.”
Greyson saw the look of panic on her face. He smiled at her in understanding and gently kissed the corner of her mouth. The kiss was over before she could think to respond.
The audience surged forward with well-wishes for each couple. As the church emptied of guests, Captain Williams asked Greyson if he could have a word with him. Greyson watched as his wife, his new mother-in-law, and the children walked away into the darkness of the garden.
Captain Williams cleared his throat, “I know that I don’t have any rights to be telling you how to handle your business, but I just wanted to ask you to give my girl some more time to get used to this marriage. . . I mean, she seems a little, uh, anxious if you know what I mean. Not that she wouldn’t come around, she knows what is expected of her. . . but if you could just give her a little more time to get used to the idea. . .” Captain Williams pulled uncomfortably at his neck cloth. The man was beet red.
“I assure you, Sir, your daughter will be given all the time she needs.”
Relieved to have this conversation over, the Captain slapped Greyson on the back. “Knew you were a good man.”
Greyson re
turned to his rooms, his eyes clouded with exhaustion. He found a hot bath waiting. He disrobed and climbed into the large porcelain tub and washed the last few days off. Once freshened up, he pulled on a black robe that had been laid out and settled on the bed. Where was Honesty? Greyson debated with himself for several minutes before pulling clothes out of the wardrobe and quickly dressing. He was going to find his wife.
First he checked her room, but it was empty. Then he moved to the nursery. He tapped lightly on the door and opened it slowly as he took in the scene before him.
Honesty sat on the floor with Blue and Maggie on her lap. The yellow silk of her gown showed the smug marks of little feet. Abby was standing in front of her and the others and all four of them were sobbing. Greyson stepped into the room as four pairs of eyes swirled in his direction. Honesty struggled to conceal her tears, as Abby dashed across the small space to the table and came up with a wooden, pirate sword. The short five-year-old waved it at him threateningly. “She is our sister and you can’t take her away from me,” declared Abby.
Greyson paused as the truth ripped through him. He had only thought of having Honesty with him, of saving her from being an unpaid servant to the Williams’ children, but now he saw the truth; the little girl in front of him with tears streaming from her eyes. For him to have Honesty, he had to separate her from her children. The children she had loved as their mother since their birth. He could see this situation was ripping their hearts apart.
Abby’s little mouth trembled, “Pllleassssssse, don’t take Honesty away. Maggie can’t sleep without her.” She held her position, the wooden sword pointed up at his chest, her little eyes pleading with him to understand. “And Blue needs her to sing him bedtime songs.”
Greyson stood undecided. The other two children continued to wail. Nanny Sinclair stood in the corner unmoving, waiting to be called to take over the children.