Wickeds Scandal by Kathleen Ayers
26
“Tell the Marchioness,” Sutton’s voice thundered up the stairs, no doubt in some ridiculous attempt to hurry her along, “that we are leaving. With or without her.”
Alexandra gave her hair a final pat, frowning as an unrepentant curl tried to sneak out of her careful coiffure. Sadie did wonders with her hair, controlling the tendrils in a lovely, if somewhat severe style. Alexandra gave her reflection a smile. Sutton would detest it.
“You’d best hurry down, my lady.” Sadie deftly tucked another curl as Alexandra stood and smoothed her gown. “Lord Cambourne does not like you to keep him waiting. You are lucky that way.” Sadie’s crush on Sutton had not abated. She was in good company. Maids kept dropping things, spilling wine and tripping, whenever Sutton even looked their way. “Yes, I suppose the time has come. I rather feel like Daniel before the lion’s den.”
Sadie gave a “harumph.” “You’ve nothing to fear, my lady. Not with Lord Cambourne and the Dowager beside you.”
“I suppose,” Alexandra answered absently, surveying Sadie’s handiwork in the mirror. Her gown was the color of sapphires, a deep blue that caught and held the light when she moved. Matching gloves, shoes, and a small reticule studded with brilliants completed her ensemble. Sutton had paid the most sought-after dressmaker on Bond Street triple to finish the gown in time for tonight’s ball. Even now, an army of seamstresses worked around the clock on the rest of Alexandra’s wardrobe.
“You look beautiful, my lady.”
Alexandra gave Sadie a small, shy smile. She felt beautiful. The gown’s color deepened the gray of her eyes and her dark hair contrasted dramatically against the sapphire of the gown. The bodice, cut fashionably low, skimmed the top of her breasts. A diamond necklace studded with sapphires hung around her neck. Diamonds and sapphires twinkled from her ears. The gifts from Sutton were lovely. Reluctantly, Alexandra had taken off her birthday locket for Sadie to clasp the heavier necklace about her throat. The thought of not wearing her locket made Alexandra uneasy.
She smoothed her skirts giving herself one more check in the large, oval mirror.
Sadie opened the door with a flourish and gave her mistress an audacious wink. The Dowager had chosen Alexandra’s maid wisely. Once her initial shyness had dissipated, Sadie had proven to be as forthright and opinionated as Alexandra herself.
Sutton waited impatiently at the bottom of the stairs with the Dowager and Miranda. Dressed in formal black, the white of his shirt contrasted sharply with the tan of his skin. The dark hair fell loose, a bit defiantly, to his shoulders. Earlier, Alexandra had heard the Dowager extolling Sutton to tie back his hair with a ribbon for the evening. Sutton refused to do so.
Alexandra’s breath caught as she looked at him. Sutton was simply the most handsome man she had ever seen. And he belonged to her.
He turned as he heard her come down the stairs, his eyes running over her form in appreciation. “I thought to run out to the garden to find you escaping your fate by climbing down the tree outside our rooms, possibly to catch a passing hackney to take you back to Gray Covington.”
Alexandra scrunched her nose, appreciating Sutton’s attempt to get her to argue with him rather than worry over the Rocheford ball.
“That was my plan, but I could not get the window open. The latch is mounted too high. Sadie refused to bring me a stool.”
Miranda laughed. The Dowager snorted.
“Next time I will think to prop a ladder against the house and loosen the latch for you.” He took her hand.
She looked into his face, determined not to show her anxiety. It wasn’t the ball, exactly, that concerned her. Since their arrival in London, a feeling of doom hovered at the edges of her mind. The Dowager told Alexandra that Archie had not been seen in well over a month. He’d likely returned to the Continent with his tail between his legs. Jeanette was furious at her cousin’s desertion. Odious Oliver’s townhouse had been sold to pay his debts. Her uncle, as large as he was and hard to miss, disappeared from sight. Miranda thought him in debtor’s prison. The only thing left for Alexandra to do was to tell Sutton about Helmsby Abbey. She planned to gently break the news to him tomorrow over tea with the Dowager.
“I’m sorry I kept you all waiting.” She held out her hand to Sutton.
“It was worth it.” Sutton brought her hand to his lips and brushed it lightly. “You are beautiful, Alex. My beautiful Badger.”
The feeling of unease increased. Alexandra put her hand on his arm and tried to tell herself she was being silly. All was well.
* * *
“The Marquess and Marchioness of Cambourne.”The servant’s voice echoed in the ballroom. The ton went silent. Dozens of eyes turned to the staircase as Alexandra and Sutton entered.
Alexandra clutched tightly to Sutton’s arm. She looked at the sea of faces. Several women eyed her with open hostility, others, jealousy. Caroline Fellowes watched Alexandra with particular menace. The crowd for the most part regarded her with curiosity, as if wondering why a man of Satan Reynolds’s ilk would ruin her and create a scandal in doing so. Several older matrons huddled near the foot of the stairs opened their fans, so they could whisper behind them unobserved.
Sutton moved forward.
Alexandra froze. A light-headed feeling came over her.
“Buck up, Badger,” Sutton whispered out of the side of his mouth. “Lift your chin. Give them your most haughty look. You are a wealthy and powerful marchioness, married to the infamous Satan Reynolds. You should enjoy your notoriety.”
Alexandra considered this. If Sutton could withstand years of being gossiped about, she could tolerate this evening. She composed her face into a mask of utter boredom as the Dowager taught her. She barely glanced at Sutton.
“Well, my lord,” her tone curt and perfect for the circumstances. “Shall we?”
Sutton chuckled under his breath, guiding her down the stairs as the ballroom broke back into conversation.
* * *
Donata reclined in a comfortable chair,allowing Lord Wasser to fetch her a glass of punch. The man had to be at least seventy, but he flirted shamelessly with her. She appreciated his efforts. Her gaze ran across the ballroom to the dancing couples. Sutton swirled his tiny bride around the dance floor, practically lifting Alex off of her feet as he turned her.
Alexandra sparkled like a diamond. An errant curl flipped over her shoulder as she laughed up at Sutton. The sight made Donata unbearably happy.
They are right for each other. Her grandson’s gaze never left the face of his wife even though at least a dozen women swooned over him tonight, especially that dreadful Caroline Fellowes. He paid them all no heed. Sutton’s arms were tight around Alex, holding her to him. The ton considered it rude for a husband to dance so many times with his wife, but Donata noted with satisfaction that Sutton seemed loath to let another man touch Alexandra. When Alexandra did dance with another man, Sutton stood grimly on the sidelines. He is in love with her.
Donata felt a deep gratitude for whatever fates had led Alexandra to Sutton.
“Your punch, my lady.” Lord Wasser tried to make a polite bow, wincing in the process. He put a hand to his back, shooting Donata a look of apology.
Donata laughed. “Sit next to me, you old fool. We are far beyond all that polite nonsense.”
Lord Wasser sat and took a sip of his own punch. He touched her hand.
She pretended outrage, swatting him with her fan. Donata was vastly enjoying this evening.
White wheat hair, done up in a complicated coiffure, bobbed through the crowd. The hair, piled high atop a swanlike neck, glittered with diamonds and rubies.
Donata wondered where Jeanette had gotten the jewels. The Cambourne diamonds now belonged to Alexandra.
The regal profile turned and spotted Donata.
A slow, malicious smile spread across Jeanette’s perfect features as she made directly for the chairs where Donata and Lord Wasser perched.
A short man, his formal attire ill fitting and disheveled, followed in Jeanette’s wake. He huffed and puffed to keep up with her and not spill the two glasses of wine he carried. Cousin Herbert Reynolds. Donata suddenly felt ill. Her eyes searched for Sutton.
“Donata.” Jeanette’s eyes, a glacial blue, pinned Donata to her seat. “What a delight to see you. Let’s catch up, shall we?”
She tensed. Jeanette seemed happy. Much too happy.
Lord Wasser, sensing the coldness between the two women, bade a hasty excuse to Donata and fled.
Now Donata realized why she’d told Lord Wasser to stop calling on her fifty years ago. He was a coward.
“The delight is all mine,” Donata said with false politeness as she faced the evil that was her daughter-in-law.
* * *
Jeanette madean effort to seem sincere as she settled herself next to Donata. Not for Donata, she could care less what that old battle-axe thought of her, but for Herbert. Herbert wasn’t incredibly smart, but he was infused with the gift of perception that some country folk seemed to possess. It would not do for him to realize Jeanette’s true intent. Dull, slow, and prodding, Herbert reminded Jeanette of an ancient tortoise. He worshipped her though and thrived at the slightest bit of attention. He would make an excellent, manageable husband. Jeanette would be the Marchioness of Cambourne again.
Archie promised.
Donata spared a brief glance at Jeanette, focusing her attention on Herbert. “How lovely to see you, Herbert. You so rarely come to London. What brings you to town?”
Damn the old witch. She would have the woman sent out to pasture just as soon as Jeanette attained her rightful position.
“I have been lured by a fair flower.” He stammered, looking with adoration at Jeanette.
Herbert’s voice irritated Jeanette. High and raspy, he always sounded like a whiney child. Jeanette found it annoying and resolved to tell him to limit his conversation once they were married. He could write her notes or something.
She smiled at Herbert, as if he said the most brilliant witticism. Her eyelashes fluttered, pretending to be taken in by his flattery. “Oh Herbert, you shall spoil me with your sentiments.”
Donata coughed and sputtered.
“My lady, are you ill?” Herbert peered at Donata, his concern evident.
“I wonder that the punch hasn’t gone bad. I shall be fine, I’m sure.” Donata’s gaze flicked to Jeanette.
Jeanette grit her teeth. She imagined the old lady screaming as she was forcibly removed from the Cambourne townhouse. The thought made her genuinely happy.
“Is Lord Cambourne here, my lady?” Herbert asked Donata. “I have something I would like to discuss with him.”
Good boy, Jeanette thought. She’d told Herbert earlier that Sutton would adore hearing about the new threshing technique Herbert employed on his estate. Jeanette didn’t have a clue as to what threshing actually entailed, she’d overheard the term from one of the grooms, but Herbert became very excited. He couldn’t wait to discuss the topic with Sutton.
She gave her hair a pat and counted the wrinkles on Donata’s face. Jeanette had something to discuss with Sutton as well. Something that could give Donata a fit of apoplexy, and thus save Jeanette the trouble of exiling the old woman. She let her glacial gaze roam,stopping when it landed on her stepson. Sutton made his way towards them with the little field mouse clutching his arm. He didn’t look at all pleased to see her. Well, she wasn’t fond of him either. She pursed her lips and assumed an expectant pose.
Herbert’s watery eyes watched her, mesmerized by her actions. The man adored her.
Sutton greeted Herbert politely. He nodded stiffly to Jeanette.
Bastard.Jeanette wished she could strangle him with the diamonds that hung about her neck.
“Herbert, it is wonderful to see you. What brings you to London?” Sutton turned to skewer her with those damned green eyes.
Herbert opened his mouth to reply, but Jeanette stayed him from launching into a recitation of his thresher by brushing her breast against his arm.
Herbert reddened and shut his mouth.
Jeanette supposed she would have to consummate their relationship once they married. Her future husband might still be a virgin. That could be amusing for a time. After that she thought sharing a bed with him on an annual basis should be enough.
“Sutton! You look well. Marriage agrees with you.” Jeanette shot her hated stepson a brilliant smile.
The field mouse, the cause of so much trouble and Archie’s humiliation, dipped her head.
The girl acted as if she were born to the title. How dare she act the Marchioness. The twit should be kneeling in Jeanette’s presence. Alexandra was nothing more than an overdressed farm animal.
“My lady, you look well.” Composed and polite, the field mouse spoke. Donata likely trained the girl day and night to assume Jeanette’s position. Honestly, what had her cousin seen in this girl? Her hair alone was enough to give Jeanette fits. She was sure there was straw in it. Probably a nest of birds, as well.
“I am blissful! Simply blissful. Herbert is keeping me company.” Jeanette twittered. “Now where have you two lovebirds been? London has missed you.” She hoped Sutton and the little mouse enjoyed their sojourn. It was likely the only happiness either one was ever going to have.
“We stayed at Gray Covington.” A muscle in Sutton’s jaw twitched. He wished to dismiss her and return to the ball. Well, not yet.
“Really? That’s odd.” Jeanette widened her eyes, so that Sutton wouldn’t see the triumphant gleam in them. “I expected that you would have at least taken the time to travel to your estate, Alexandra, Helmsby Abbey. I understand Hampshire is exceedingly lovely this time of year,” Jeanette said breathlessly.
Donata gripped her cane. Her hands worried the top of it.
The field mouse stepped back. She paled and looked ready to flee.
“Oh, dear! Have I spoken out of turn?” Jeanette allowed her eyes to widen in surprised apology. “Donata purchased the estate some time ago and gifted it to Alexandra as a wedding gift. I thought it most generous. Oh goodness,” her hand flew up against her heart. “Did you not know, Sutton? You shouldn’t allow such an oversight to bother you. Clearly your wife is enamored of you.” She laughed. “It’s not as if Alexandra needed some special inducement to marry you.”
Sutton’s face turned glacial. He spun on his heel and stalked towards the doors.
The field mouse bolted after him hurrying on her tiny little legs.
Donata’s breathing was rapid. Jeanette rather hoped the surprise would kill her. “I guess he wasn’t aware. I seem to have truly put my foot in it this time.” She took Herbert’s arm. “Come, Herbert. I need more wine.”
* * *
Alexandra fairly sprintedto keep up with Sutton’s longer strides as he wound his way through the ballroom.
“Sutton wait!” she cried.
He never looked back. He jumped into their carriage, leaving the door open.
Panting, Alexandra reached the door. Her husband grabbed her and pulled her into the carriage.
“Sutton. Stop for a moment and listen to me.”
He turned and glared at her. Hurt stamped every feature of his angelic face. “Were you ever going to tell me? Is this why you agreed to the marriage? Even after ruination you would rather have been a pariah than marry me? My grandmother had to bribe you? I wondered why you never mentioned the estate again, why your beloved retainers never appeared at Gray Covington even though you told me you sent for them.”
A million painful needles stabbed her. This was far worse than anything she had imagined. How did Jeanette know? “Sutton, that is not the case. You know that. Your stepmother has twisted things.”
“No more lies, Alexandra. Would you have married me if grandmother hadn’t sweetened the deal for you?”
Alexandra reached out her hand. “Yes!” She sputtered. “Of course, I would have. Do not allow Jeanette to-”
“She planned this all along. I can see the two of you cooking up your little scheme. She left us in the salon together. She wanted an heir for Cambourne. You wanted that stupid piece of dirt in Hampshire and your merry band of retainers. Hell, you were willing to marry Archie to get it. I suppose in comparison I’m not such a bad bargain.”
Tears ran down Alexandra’s face. “Sutton, do you hear yourself? Please calm down and we can talk about this. I didn’t need Helmsby Abbey to marry you. Your past with Jeanette has poisoned you and-”
“You know I tried to buy it for you,” he continued without listening to her. “Meechum told me it had already been sold to a private buyer whose name he couldn’t disclose. It was my own grandmother.” Sutton’s face looked as if it were carved from a block of marble. He looked down his nose at her. “I felt I had failed you by not buying the estate. You let me live with that guilt when all along…” He looked out the window.
“Please let me explain, Sutton.” She reached for him again.
He flinched from her touch. He turned back to her. “Tell me this is a misunderstanding. Was the price for your ruination Helmsby Abbey? Tell me I am wrong.” Sutton’s voice broke. “Please tell me.”
“Sutton,” she sobbed brokenly. “How could you possibly think such a thing? I love you. Why can’t you see that?”
“Damn you,” Sutton whispered he knocked on the roof of the carriage.
“Where are you going?” She reached out to him.
The carriage rolled to a stop. Alexandra didn’t recognize the street. She had no idea where they were.
“Damn you, Alexandra Dunforth. Why did you have to be like all the rest?” He jumped out without another glance. “Take the marchioness home.” She heard him order the groom.
Alexandra sat frozen as the coach began to move. “I’m not like all the rest,” she whispered, but there was no one to hear her.
