Innocent in the Regency Ballroom: Miss Winthorpe's Elopement / Dangerous Lord, Innocent Governess

Her own husband was looking at her with a sardonic twist to his smile. ‘Would that you found such pleasure in my company as you do in Adam’s, my darling.’ He turned to Adam. ‘But I missed you as well, old friend. Without you, times have been sober, as have I. We must put an end to that sorry condition as soon as possible. White’s? Boodle’s? Name your poison, as they say.’

‘White’s, I think. This evening?’

‘Of course.’

Clarissa stamped her foot. ‘You will do nothing of the kind. I expect you to dine in this evening. With us.’ She made little effort to include her husband in her invitation. And none to include Penny, literally turning away to shut her out from the group.

Adam eluded her gaze again, speaking to the room rather than the woman before him. ‘We would, but I believe my wife has other plans.’ There was the subtlest emphasis on ‘we’, to remind Clarissa of the change in status. And then he glanced at Penny, waiting for her to confirm what he had said.

She tried to imagine herself responding as Clarissa had. She would say something clever, about how divine it would be to spend an evening at table with a woman who her husband held so dear. And there would be the same ironic tone that the others were using, to indicate an undercurrent of flirtation, and proof that she knew what was what. It would anger Adam, but he would admire her fearlessness. And it would enrage Clarissa. Which would be strangely pleasing, for Penny found herself taking an instant dislike to the woman.

Instead, she replied haltingly, ‘Yes, I fear I am most busy. With my studies. And will be unable to get away.’

‘You cannot leave your books.’ Clarissa turned and glanced down at her, then looked back at the others as if Penny’s social ineptitude had been more than confirmed. ‘But you do not mind if Adam comes without you, of course.’ The woman dared her to respond in the negative.

And here was where she must admit defeat, ceding the field with the battle barely begun. Although why she would feel the need to fight for this, she had no idea.

Before she could answer, Adam spoke for her. ‘My darling wife would have my best interests at heart, no matter what she might say, for she wishes to see me happy. And since I have already expressed a desire to go to White’s with Tim, she would not think to drag me into mixed society, no matter how pleasant it might be for her.’ He glanced back to his friend. ‘Eight o’clock, then?’

If Tim was relieved, he did not show it, only smiling in acknowledgement of the plan. And then he smiled at Penny with unexpected warmth. ‘Do not worry, my dear. No gels allowed at White’s. I will keep your new husband on the straight and narrow. As long as you have no objection to cards and whisky.’

Penny searched again for a clever reply that would not come. ‘Of course, not. Whatever Adam wishes …’

Clarissa was clearly piqued. ‘It does not do, Penelope, to give a man latitude in these things. It leads them to take one too much for granted.’

Adam snapped back at her, ‘On the contrary, Clarissa, a man is more likely to give his affection to one who can manage, on occasion, to put the needs of others before her own selfish desires.’ Adam was looking straight into the woman’s eyes for once, and Penny realised, with sickening clarity, why he had been avoiding the contact.

They were lovers. They had been, or soon would be—it mattered not which. While Adam might smile at the wives of the other men in the room and laugh at their foolishness, he dared not acknowledge Clarissa, for when he looked at her, the guilt was plain in his eyes for all who cared to see.

After the brief lapse, he looked away from her again, and proceeded to act as though she were not in the room with them.

Penny looked to the others, watching the silent messages flash between them. Those who were positioned to see Adam’s expression passed the truth to those who could not, with furtive glances and hungry smiles. Only Timothy appeared oblivious to what had happened, his attention absorbed by a volume of Aristotle.

And then the moment passed, and Adam stepped around Clarissa to stand behind his own wife. ‘I am lucky to have married such a gracious woman, and hope never to take the fact for granted.’

Penny felt the mortification rising in her, forming a barrier between her and the outside. Was she expected to put her needs so far to the side that she must condone his adultery?

And then her husband put his hand upon her shoulder, as a gesture of affection and solidarity, and she jumped, as though she had been burned.

There were more sidelong glances and more wicked smiles. Suddenly Lord Timothy cut through the silence, shutting his book with a snap. ‘Yes, Adam. We must offer you congratulations on your amazing luck. And it is good that you recognise it, for a man is truly blessed when he has the love and respect of such an intelligent woman.’ He turned to the others in his party. ‘And now, ladies and gentleman, we should be going, for we are quite destroying the peace of the household and keeping her Grace from her studies.’

‘Let me show you out.’ Adam took the lead, and the others fell obediently in behind him. Clarissa made as if to stay behind, but her husband held the door for her, making it impossible for her to linger.

When she was gone, Lord Timothy turned back into the room, and favoured Penny with another brief, encouraging smile. ‘Good day to you, Penelope. And good fortune as well.’ And then he was gone, shutting the door behind him.

She sank back on to the settee, weak with confusion. Adam had seemed so kind. He was good to her. Affectionate, in a distant sort of way. And in a short time it had become easy to imagine the affection blossoming into something warmer. Never passion. She could not hope for something so ridiculous. But love, in the classical sense. A respect for each other that might lead to a mutually satisfying relationship.

But how could she ever trust a man that would betray his best friend? And what did he mean for her, in any case? They had talked in Scotland about living as amiable strangers. And then he had paraded his lover under her nose, allowed her to be the butt of his friends’ jokes, then glossed it over with fine and empty words about mutual respect.

If this was how fashionable society behaved, then she had been right in her decision to turn her back on it. But what was she to do if society hunted her out and continued to harass her?

She could hear her husband’s step in the hall, and prayed that, for once, he would abide by his earlier promises, go to his study, and leave her in peace.

But instead he opened her door without preamble and shut it tightly behind him, then glared at her. He was angry. She could see it flashing in his eyes, and noted the stiffness of his back, as though his movements were containing some sudden physical outburst. His tone was curt. ‘I wish to speak of what just happened here.’

‘Nothing happened, as far as I noticed.’

‘Exactly.’ He frowned. ‘And those around us took note of the nothing. It will be quite the talk of the town.’

‘They took note of so many things, I am at a loss as to which one you refer to. Could it have been when you informed them of my monetary worth to you?’

‘I misspoke. I had intended to praise your virtues, and the words went wrong.’

‘Perhaps because I have so few virtues to extol. Since you cannot discuss my birth or my beauty, I should thank you on the compliment to my purse.’

‘Believe me, Penny, I do not wish to call further attention to your wealth. It is not a point of pride that my friends suspect I married beneath me to get to your money.’

‘Beneath you?’ she snapped. ‘When I discovered you, you were face down in a stable yard and under the horses. To marry beneath yourself, you would have to look quite a bit further than the daughter of a cit. There was not much lower you could have sunk.’

He flinched. ‘I will avoid fulsome praise of you in the future, for I have no talent for flattery. In any case, it is wasted on one who makes no attempt to hide her distaste of me.’

‘I have a distaste of you? Whatever do you mean?’

He glared at her. ‘I might have been face down in the muck when you found me, but in marrying me, you got control of your inheritance and bagged a title. You understand, do you not, that many men would not be nearly so tractable as I have been towards you? We get on quite well, considering. And I did not mean to insult you in any way, nor do I plan to in the future. But I expect the same in return.

‘It is one thing, madam, to refuse my affection, when we are alone. You avoided my hand this morning, but I thought, “Perhaps she is shy. I must give her time to trust me.” But it is quite another thing to shrink from my merest touch when we are in public.’

‘I did nothing of the kind.’

He reached to touch her hand, and she pulled away from him.

He smiled, coldly. ‘Of course not, my dear. You are just as welcoming now as you were before. I touched your shoulder, and you looked to all the world as if I had struck you.’

‘I thought it was agreed—’

‘When I agreed to a marriage in name only, I did not realise that you found me so utterly repugnant that you would deny me all physical contact. Nor did I expect that you would make the fact known to my friends.’

‘You do not repel me.’ No matter how much she might wish he did.

‘Oh, really? Then you had best prove it to me. Take my hand and assure me.’

She stared at the hand he held out to her, the long fingers curled to beckon, but she made no move to take it.

He nodded. ‘I see. Most comforting.’

‘I do not see why it is so important to you.’ You have her attention. Why must you have mine as well?

He stared back at her until she met his eyes. ‘I am a proud man. I do not deny it. It does not reflect well on either of us to have the full details of our relationship as public gossip. We are married, and I hope to remain so. The time will pass more easily for both of us if you can bring yourself to be at ease in my company, at least when we are in public. I will not bother you at home any more than is necessary.’

There was frustration and anger in his eyes, but they were still the same compelling blue, and just as hard to resist as they had been when she had trusted his motives. ‘How can I do this?’ she asked herself, as much as she did him.

His shoulders relaxed a little. ‘You could, on occasion, smile while in public. I would not expect unceasing mirth. Merely as pleasant a face as you wear when we are alone. And if my hand should happen to brush yours, you need not flinch from it.’ He raised his hand in oath. ‘I promise to treat you with the care and respect due my wife and my duchess.’ And then he offered it to her again.

She closed her eyes, knowing in her heart what his respect for his wife was worth, if he could not respect the marriage of another. Then she reached tentatively out to put her hand in his.

She heard him sigh, and his fingers closed over hers, stroking briefly before pushing her hand back until they were palm to palm and he could link fingers with her. He squeezed. ‘There. Feel? There is nothing to be afraid of. I mean you no harm.’ His other hand came to her face, and the fingertips brushed lightly against her cheek. ‘I only wish for you to leave others with the impression that there is some warm feeling between us. Nothing more. That perhaps we might share something other than an interest in your money. Help me undo my foolish words.’ His hand touched her hair and stroked to the back of her neck, and he moved close enough so she could feel his breath on her skin, and the change in the air against her lips as he spoke.

‘This is much better, is it not?’ His voice was low and husky, as she had never heard it before, barely more than a whisper.

She opened her eyes. He was right. When he was this close and looking at her, it ceased to matter how he looked at other women. She could feel the magnetic pull to be even closer. She had but to lean in a few inches, and his lips would be upon hers.

Which was madness. She had to resist yet another urge to jump away from him in alarm, and watched as his pupils shrank, and the soft smile on his face returned to its normal, more businesslike form. He withdrew slowly, with easy, unruffled grace. ‘Very good. That is much more what I had hoped for. I do not expect you to fall passionately into my arms as a false display for visitors. But if we could at least give the appearance that we are on friendly terms, I would be most grateful.’ His fingers untwined and his hand slipped away from hers.

‘Most certainly. For I do wish to be on friendly terms with you in more than appearance.’ She sighed, and hoped it sounded like a longing for her books, and not for renewed contact. ‘And now, if you will excuse me? I must return to work.’

‘Of course.’

Adam left the room, closing the door behind him, and moved quickly down the hall. Hell and damnation, it had been an unbearable morning. First, the invasion of his friends, before he’d had a chance to explain to Penny how things were likely to be. Although she probably suspected, what with the way Clarissa had been making a fool of herself, with no care for the fact that Tim was in the room with them.

Penny must think him a complete fraud. She had looked around the room, at his friends and at Clarissa, and had seen it all. She’d read his character in a glance and must regret her decision.

And he, who had always been so sure of his words, even when nothing else would go right for him, had stumbled so egregiously as to let it appear that he had married her for money. If possible, it was even worse than the truth to say such a thing. He had allowed her no dignity at all. And he had seen the mocking light in the eyes of his friends when she had flinched from his touch.

He had been foolishly angry, at himself and at Clarissa, and had taken it out on Penny for not offering affection that he had not earned. But what had he been about, just now? Had he been trying to teach her some kind of lesson? Hopefully, it had been lost on her, if he had. He should have come back to her and taken her hand in a most friendly fashion, and tried to mend the breach he had caused. He should have assured her that although he had been guilty of grave transgressions, it was all in the past, and that he meant to be a better man.

Instead, he had touched her hair and forgotten all. What sense was it to talk when there were soft lips so close, waiting to be kissed? And she had closed her eyes so sweetly, allowing him to observe the fine lashes and the smooth cheek and the sweetness of her breath as it mingled with his. It was a matter of inches, a bare nod of the head to bring them into contact with his own, and to slip his tongue into her mouth and kiss her until she reacted to his touch with the eagerness he expected in a wife.

He shook his head again. Had he forgotten whom he was speaking of? If he needed to persuade his own wife to let him hold her hand, then passion-drugged nights were not likely to be in the offing.

Not while he remained at home, at any rate. Perhaps it had been too long since last he visited his mistress. A man had urges, after all. And he was neglecting his if his own wife began to tempt him more than someone else’s. An afternoon relaxing in the arms of his paramour would clear his mind, which was clouded with misdirected lust, and make it easier to decide what to do about the impossible relationship with Clarissa and the unwelcome attraction to Penelope.

He called for a carriage and set out to regain control of his emotions.

As he passed out the door, he saw Penny’s manservant, who stood at the entrance to the house, wearing the Bellston livery as though it were as great an honour as a night in the stocks. He looked at Adam and bowed with as much respect as the other servants, while conveying the impression that the lady of the house was worth two dukes.

Adam glared back at him. ‘Jem, isn’t it?’

‘Yes, your Grace.’ And another bow.

Damn the man. Adam fished in his pocket and came up with a handful of banknotes and forced them into the servant’s hand. ‘I have an errand for you. Go to the bookseller’s. And buy my wife that damned copy of Homer.’

Chapter Nine

In the two years they had been together, Adam’s mistress, Felicity, had been a most accommodating and entertaining companion. But now, as he looked at her, he could not seem to remember why. She was beautiful, of course. There was little reason to have her otherwise. While she might not be the most enchanting conversationalist, he employed her to listen, not to talk. And so it mattered little.

She greeted him as she always had, with a passionate kiss. Her perfect hands reached out to stroke him and to smooth his brow.

And to search his pockets, as well. ‘What did you being me, Adam?’ Her smile was as satisfied as a cat’s.

He smiled back. ‘And why must I have brought you anything?’ Although, of course, he had.

‘Because you always do, my darling. I have come to expect it. And there is the little matter of your recent marriage.’ She experimented with a pout, but her heart was not in it. ‘You could at least have told me your plans. Even though it does not change what we share, it is not pleasant to be surprised when reading The Times.’

He nodded. ‘I am sorry. I never intended for my situation to change so suddenly, or I would have forewarned you.’

She nodded. ‘It was love at first sight, then.’ Clearly, she did not believe it any more than he did, but it was sweet of her to give him the benefit of the doubt.

‘Rather. Yes.’

‘Then, let us celebrate.’ She kissed him again with an ardour guaranteed to arouse.

But the irony of the situation washed over him, and it was as though he were watching the kiss from a distance, rather than being an active participant in it. To be celebrating one’s wedding in the arms of a Cyprian was probably sin enough for God to strike him dead on the spot. When their lips parted, he laid his against her ear and murmured, ‘Then you no longer wish to see your gift?’

‘I wish to see it, if you wish to show it to me,’ she said, the most co-operative woman in his life.

He guided her fingers to the breast pocket of his jacket, to the package he had purchased on the way to her flat.

She was immediately distracted and withdrew the bracelet from the jewel box in his pocket. ‘Adam, it is magnificent. The size of the diamonds. And the clarity.’ She examined it with the eye of a professional. ‘Th-thank you. It is quite the nicest thing you have ever brought me.’

He must have chosen well, if he had made a whore stammer. ‘I am glad you appreciate it.’

For it cost me more than all your other gifts put together. Now that I can borrow from my wife’s purse, money does not matter. And she will not care that I am here, for I have bought her a book. The truth sickened him, even as he thought it. And again, it was as though he was viewing the scene from a distance.

His mind might be shamed by what he had done, but his body cared not, and awaited the reward forthcoming after a gift.

And his mouth agreed with neither of them. As though he had no control over it, it announced, ‘Yes. Of course. I thought, under the circumstances, an extra expenditure was called for. For you see …’

And his mouth proceeded, unbidden, to explain that now that he was married, their relationship had indeed changed. Since it was unlikely that he would be able to spend much time in her presence, it was hardly fair to keep her. The lavish gift was meant as a parting token. The apartment would be available for her use until such time …

His body howled in disappointment, and called him all kinds of fool, but still the words would not stop. And with each one, his conscience felt lighter.

His mistress was taking the whole thing annoyingly well.

She shrugged. ‘I suspected as much. When a man gets it into his head to marry, his priorities change. And we have been together for quite some time, have we not?’

He started. She sounded bored with his attentions. The fact that she bored him as well was small consolation.

‘And you have always been most considerate of me, and very generous of spirit. Should you need similar companionship in the future, I would not hesitate to recommend you as a protector.’

It sounded almost as if she was giving him references. ‘And I, you.’ He stuttered. ‘Recommend, I mean. Should you need …’

He returned to his townhouse, numb with shock. The day was not turning out as planned. His old friends annoyed him. He’d just denied himself an afternoon of pleasure for no logical reason. And he still had no idea how to deal with his new wife. He returned home, because he could think of nowhere else to go. There was no joy in lunching alone, but his clubs would be too full of people, asking questions he did not desire to answer. At least in his own house he could have the consolation of solitude.

He was over the threshold before he remembered that he no longer lived alone. He had handed his hat and stick to the servant, and was halfway down the hall when he heard the rattle of tea things from the sitting room. Her door was open.

Too late, then, to take back his hat and back out of the door. Perhaps she would not notice if he quietly went to his rooms.

And then his wife peered into the hall. ‘I was just sitting down to tea. Would you care to join me?’

‘Thank you.’ Once again, his mouth had said something that came as a surprise to him.

‘I will have the butler bring another cup. You look in need of refreshment. Come. Sit down.’ And she graciously welcomed him to sit in his own home.

Her home as well, he reminded himself. She had every right to be taking tea in the room he had promised was solely for her use. And she was performing her duty as wife to see that he was provided with his. What right did he have to complain?

He sat down on the sofa next to her and waited in silence, while she pulled a tiny table closer to him and prepared his cup as she’d seen him take it. ‘Biscuit?’

He stared at the unfamiliar thing in front of him.

She responded without his asking, ‘I am accustomed to take sweets in the afternoon. These are a favourite of mine. I find the lemon zest in them most refreshing, so I have given the recipe to Cook. But if you would prefer something more substantial …’

‘No. This is fine. Thank you.’

She was staring at him now. And he raised his eyes from his cup, to stare back at her.

‘I am sorry for suggesting it,’ she remarked, ‘but is something the matter? You seem rather out of sorts.’

‘What business is it of yours?’ he snapped. And immediately regretted his outburst.

She was unfazed. ‘Only that, earlier in the day, you said you wished to be friends.’

‘I said I wished to appear to be friends. That is an entirely different matter.’

Again, she was unfazed, but answered thoughtfully, ‘As you wish. Although it is sometimes easier to keep up the appearance, if an actual friendship exists.’ There was no tartness in her voice. Merely a statement of fact.

He rubbed his brow with his hand. ‘I apologise. Of course, you are right. I had no call to snap at you.’

‘As you wish. I was not offended by it. It is I who should apologise to you for intruding on your peace. I merely wished to thank you for sending Jem to get my book. It was nice that you remembered.’ She fell silent and allowed him to enjoy his tea.

But the silence was almost more discomforting than the noise, for it allowed him to feel the guilt again, although he could not imagine what it was that pained him.

‘You are not disturbing my peace, Penny. But I fear I disturbed yours. I think—it may be possible that I am not comfortable when at peace. I must always be doing something to keep back the quiet. Thus, I released my ill-behaved friends on you this morning.’