The Plain Bride by Chasity Bowlin
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The Night of the Bruxton Ball
Althea staredat her reflection with complete disinterest. It didn’t matter that her hair had been dressed more fashionably and more flatteringly than ever before. Nor did it matter that the dress Sabine had designed for her was true perfection. The rich plum color only reminded her of the dress Sinclair had procured for her after their night at the White Hart Inn. It reminded her of the moments when he could be kind.
Since that fateful night in the dining room, they had given one another a very wide berth. She would have her breakfast in her room, and he would have dinner at his club. The detente they had settled into over the past week had been cold and silent. How in heaven’s name they would appear at this ball and pretend to be a happy newly wedded couple was beyond her.
“You look beautiful, my lady,” Sarah offered and then, sympathetically, added, “But you do not look very happy.”
“There is little enough to be happy about. I’ve no wish to go to this ball, Sarah. It’s like willingly walking into a den of vipers. I cannot but think Lady Bruxton has something horrible planned,” Althea admitted.
The maid tidied up the dressing table, putting away extra hair pins with more force than necessary. “I’ve heard about her. Her servants gossip something fierce, and they’re always after gossip from this household. When cook sent some of the kitchen girls to the market, one of her maids was lying in wait for them, hoping to bribe something out of them. But they knew better. We all know better!”
“He shouldn’t have threatened to sack the footmen that night,” Althea sighed.
“Oh, no, it’s not that, ma’am! He’s got a temper, his lordship does, but this is a good house to work in, and he’s a good employer to work for! We are well paid and get whole days off instead of half-days. None of the maids have ever had to run from him or his guests. He treats us like people and not like we were just pieces of the furniture.”
It was all true. Despite his outburst of temper that night, a temper she had intentionally provoked, no less, she had observed how fairly treated the servants were. She’d also taken over the household accounts and knew that Sarah was speaking the truth. He paid them generously.
“Well, I am glad that you are all happy here and glad that he has your loyalty,” Althea stated.
“Not just him, my lady. You have our loyalty too. I know things ain’t quite right now, but you’re good for his lordship. I believe that to my soul, I do. And I think, if you could both see your way clear of it, he would be good for you, too. You was so happy before. I know you can be again.”
With that, the maid bustled out, and Althea was left alone with her own very bitter thoughts. She had been happy—as happy as she would permit herself to be. The truth of the matter was she didn’t know how to just live in the moment and accept happiness as it came to her. She’d been so very busy preparing herself for looming disaster and heartache that, in many ways, she’d brought that disaster and heartache to fruition. Looking back at the argument that had so damaged things between them, she could accept that she’d played a very large role in bringing it about. He had been wrong to make such assumptions about her future, but if she were to be completely honest, the reason it had offended her so greatly had been that she was forced to face the fact that he was looking towards the end of their time together.
It had seemed a rejection to her in that moment, as if by planning for the outcome they had already agreed upon, he was somehow betraying her. And it was all because she no longer truly desired that outcome. Because, in the absence of his presence for nearly a week, when the distance between them seemed to be insurmountable, she could finally admit the truth: It was too late for her not to love him. Her heart already belonged to him, and she could only hope that it wasn’t too late to repair the damage they’d done to their burgeoning relationship.
Determined to try, to at least attempt to repair that which was broken, she picked up the velvet, fur-lined wrap that had been created to match her gown and made her way downstairs. Her steps faltered when she reached the stairs. She could see him below, dressed in elegant evening clothes as he awaited her. He was beyond handsome, and her pulse skittered when she saw him, just as it always had whenever she’d chanced to see him walking through their small village. How much it had all changed since then, and how much it had all stayed the same!
He turned to face her, and she saw, for the barest hint of a moment, his gaze darken with hunger. Then his expression shuttered, and he wore the same sort of stolid response she had received from him during any chance meeting in the last week. Bracing herself for what would be a very long and difficult night, Althea descended the stairs and tried, with very little success, to harden her heart.
Contrary to his outward expression,he was anything but indifferent to her appearance. That fateful night at the White Hart, the first of their many remarkable clashes, he’d seen something in her that he hadn’t anticipated—a fire that called to him. And, the following morning, when she’d emerged from the inn, wearing a dress that was remarkably similar to the one Sabine had fashioned for her for Charlotte’s ball, that had been the first time he’d understood how desirable Thea truly was.
For so long, she’d hidden behind severe hairstyles and dowdy clothing, binding her breasts in that torture device of a corset so that she might appear as sexless as possible. Her father really should have been horsewhipped for doing those things to her, he thought. But he’d tormented her in his own way and likely deserved a horsewhipping of his own.
He’d been keeping his distance from her during the days and slipping into her bed at night, availing himself of all the warmth and passion she offered, while trying his damnedest to keep any sort of tender feelings at bay. She’d accused him of trying to discharge his responsibilities to her as a means of hurrying her exit from his life. Perhaps he hadn’t done so consciously, but there was an undeniable truth to her assessment of the situation. But if the last week of terrible silence between them had taught him anything at all, it was that it was far too late for him to be shed of her without consequence. He missed her terribly, and she wasn’t even gone from his home yet.
As she reached the bottom of the stairs, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I have something for you,” he said.
“You didn’t need to,” she protested.
“I did, in point of fact. You cannot go to a society ball without proper jewelry,” he explained, moving to the small table where he’d placed the silk-lined box with the parure he’d commissioned for her. Simple and elegant, the confection of diamonds and pearls included a necklace, a tiara, a bracelet, and ear bobs. Opening the lid of the box, he presented it to her. “These should do nicely for you.”
She blinked several times, taking in the matched jewels before looking up at him. “That is far too extravagant.”
“It isn’t, really,” he said. “In comparison to many of the ladies present, this particular set will seem modest. But I knew that you would not want something as ostentatious as others might. I chose this set, Thea, as a gift for you. It is something lovely and something that I felt reflected the way I see you. Please accept it.”
It was the humblest request he’d ever made in his life, and he waited with bated breath for her to reject it. But, after a long and seemingly immensurable pause, she reached out with one gloved hand and trailed her fingers over the diamond broach which connected the strands of pearls. “It’s lovely.”
Carefully, he withdrew the necklace and then placed the box in her hands. When she turned, presenting her back to him, he carefully positioned the necklace and then fastened the clasp for her. “It is where it belongs,” he said. “I’ll leave you to see to the rest of it. I would muss your hair, and that would be a truly unpardonable sin.”
He stepped back and watched as she carefully donned the remainder of the pieces. Taking the box from her hand, he passed it to a footman. “We should go. No doubt there will be a line of carriages longer than Upper Brooke Street.”
She nodded and draped her wrap about her shoulders. “I’m ready.”
He wasn’t. The longer he’d had to think about the coming event, the more he’d realized that Thea’s initial misgivings were likely well founded. Charlotte, he’d come to understand, was a veritable cat. She might play the part of a delicate and simpering creature for men, whichever one struck her fancy or whichever one she needed something from in that moment, but when it came to other women—her competition—she could be vicious.
There was little doubt in his mind that it had nothing whatsoever to do with any tender feelings Charlotte might profess to have for him. Those were as false as she had ever been. He’d loved her when he was a boy, and as a man he could see her clearly for what she was.
Exiting the house, they moved quickly through the chilly evening air to the waiting carriage. Once inside the dim interior, they settled once more into a very uneasy silence. But she was the first to break it.
“I owe you an apology for my behavior,” she said. “I was provoking and terribly rude to you when you had attempted to do what you felt was the right thing. I am sorry for that.”
“You do not owe me an apology, Thea. I owe you one. I was taking the coward’s way out and trying to simplify the process of your eventual departure. But the simple truth is that, when you leave, I shall miss you terribly. I know that without doubt now, as I have spent this past week missing you already.”
“Then, ask me to stay,” she whispered.
“I can’t,” he admitted, “because I sit here, even now, completely undeserving of you. But I will never ask you to leave. Isn’t that enough?”
“I don’t know,” she answered, her voice raw with an honesty neither of them had intended.
“We do not have to decide anything now,” he reminded her. “We will attend this farce of a ball. We will dance and be feted by people whom neither of us give a fig for. And, when we come home, I will spend the entire night showing you what it could be if you choose to stay.”
