“Do not forbid their infatuation, Your Grace. Forbidden love is all the sweeter and more tempting,” she said. “Also, she deserves this moment. Her father will marry her off to someone old, fat, and likely horrid. He will break both their hearts soon enough without our interference. For the time being, we simply need to be certain that they aren’t given opportunity to act without caution.”
“We could do that,” Gavin said. “But it might involve us spending time in one another’s company. Can we do that, Lady Sheffield, without drawing blood?”
She smirked. “I will sheath my claws if you refrain from hurling insults at my head.”
“That is manageable enough. And when should we arrange this first outing, that they might spend yet more time together without it necessitating a hasty marriage?”
She cocked her head to the side, staring at him. “If we are seen in company, people will make certain assumptions about us, Your Grace. I am a widow, known to enjoy my widowhood greatly.”
“People will assume many things, and like on so many occasions, they will be wrong. But I can withstand the storm of gossip if you can.” It was issued as a challenge.
“Then, you and Mr. St. James may accompany us, Helen and myself, to the theater tonight. I have a box.”
Gavin nodded. “I will send a carriage for you.”
Meredith stood in the shadowy recesses of a copse of trees in Hyde Park. On the path only a few yards away, she could see him. Gavin Barreten, the newly minted Duke of Westerhaven. He’d been riding, cutting a fine figure on horseback as always. Then he’d dismounted and now seemed to be in the throes of a somewhat heated conversation with a woman. The woman, dressed in a riding habit in the military style, was the very height of fashion. She was also beautiful, but she was not young. That much about Gavin had not changed. He’d always preferred women who were mature enough to know their own measure.
It had been three years since she’d last seen him. It had been ages beyond that since he’d looked at her with anything other than disdain or even pity. He looked better than ever. For herself, she knew she’d seen better days. Her clothes were starting to appear worn. There were strands of silver in her hair that had not been there before and lines about her eyes and mouth that seemed to deepen with every passing day. Aging was inevitable, but she was no less bitter for it. It didn’t help matters that men like him only seemed to get better with age while women, like herself, only seemed to get old. Of course, she didn’t care about his attachment to the woman. He could have any lover he chose, so long as he didn’t attempt to deny her the position of wife.
“Who is your lady love, Gavin?” she whispered to herself. “Who is she, and what are your plans for her? I hope they don’t involve anything permanent. You’ll both be in for a very rude awakening.”
Yes, indeed. Gavin Barreten was the proverbial golden goose, only she hadn’t known it when she let him walk out of her life. She wouldn’t make that mistake again. And she wouldn’t make it easy for him to get rid of her, not when there was so much at stake—and that it was so much more valuable than mere money. What he held now, a title and position? It was what she had always wanted, after all. And he would give it to her, or she’d make his life hell.
Stepping out of the trees, she moved past the couple with her head down. Only when she was a good distance away did she pause and look directly in his direction, almost willing him to look at her. Eventually, he did so. She felt the weight of his gaze, saw the puzzlement on his face. He wasn’t certain it was her, but he suspected, and that was enough.
Stepping through the gated exit of the park, she blended into the throng of pedestrians outside it and disappeared into the crowded London streets. He couldn’t pursue her because to do so would mean offering some sort of explanation to the woman who was beside him, the woman who was likely his lover.
Meredith smiled to herself as she made her way down the cobbled streets of Mayfair. It wasn’t her world yet, but it soon would be.
CHAPTER THREE
Aurora refused to consider the implications of how carefully she had attended to her appearance that evening. Her hair was held up high off her neck, in an intricate coiffure with loose tendrils coaxed to curl about her ears and forehead. At her throat, she was draped with diamonds and pearls. They winked at her ears and her wrist as well, for she’d donned the entire parure, a rarity for her. Her gown was of a rich wine velvet with cap sleeves slit and stuffed with gold tissue. The decollate was quite revealing but not unseemly.
I didn’t do it for him.
Even telling herself that, it rang false. Yes, all eyes would be on them. Their arrival together, even as a foursome, would be remarked upon, and to that end, she had to dress the part. But her embroidered stockings and silk stays were not for the benefit of the gossips. She’d donned those for herself, because wearing them made her feel powerful in a way that her more serviceable underpinnings did not.
With a paisley shawl draped about her shoulders, she made her way downstairs. Helen was already there, waiting and ready. Perched on a chair beneath the window, she had the curtains parted and was watching the street out front.
“You may watch that street all evening, but they will arrive when they arrive, dearest,” Aurora pointed out. “Also, one does not want to appear too eager by having one’s face pressed to the glass when guests arrive.”
Helen flushed and eased back from the window. “I know you think I’m being ridiculous.”
Aurora smiled. “I do not. I think that Mr. St. James is very handsome and very charming. And I think it would take considerable willpower not to be charmed by him. But I do fear that you may be setting yourself up for great disappointment, Helen. We both know that your father will refuse any suit by him. You do know that, do you not?”
Helen’s expression turned mutinous. “It shouldn’t be up to him! It isn’t as if he wants to ensure my happiness! The only men he’s ever introduced me to are old and grotesque. I should be permitted to marry for love!”
Aurora closed the distance between them and cupped Helen’s face gently. “My dear, sweet child, I do not disagree with you. But the world is not yet a place where women are permitted to make such choices for themselves, at least not within the confines of the Linden family. I so wish it were different.”
“Did you love Uncle Reginald?”
I hated him more with every breath and each day that he lived beyond our wedding was a misery. She could hardly impart such truths to a young woman on the verge of a similar fate. “It was different for me,” Aurora stated vaguely. “I never had illusions of marrying for love. I understood that a suitable match would be made for me and that I would…comply.”
“Were you ever happy with him?”
“I found my happiness in my son,” Aurora hedged. “Being Will’s mother is the most wonderful and amazing thing that has ever occurred in my life and I would not change anything—not even my marriage—if it meant not having him.”
Helen sighed. “I understand.”
Aurora was saved from having to offer up anything else by the arrival of the Duke of Westerhaven and Mr. St. James. The butler entered, announced them and then disappeared to his post in the corridor. Mr. St. James, obviously eager and impetuous, rushed in and bowed before Helen.
“My dear Miss Linden, you could not be more beautiful.”
“Easy, puppy,” the duke cautioned in a low voice.
Mr. St. James blushed and then stepped back. “And you, Lady Sheffield, are a vision.”
“Thank you, Mr. St. James. We are so very pleased to have the company of you both for tonight’s performance. I am told that the play is quite excellent,” Aurora said. “Shall we go?”
“Yes. It wouldn’t do to be late. Or early…or even on time,” the duke said with disdain.
Aurora didn’t correct him. He was quite right. Ennui and disinterest were fashionable, even if they were feigned. To arrive on time for a performance indicated eagerness, and that was something to b
e avoided at all costs. In truth, the theater and every other entertainment provided in the city was more about providing an opportunity to be seen and envied than actually enjoying one’s self. There were times when she was so exhausted by it she had considered retreating to Bath and enjoying a quieter society there. But she’d heard from friends that it was just as difficult to navigate and just as full of pitfalls.
The duke offered his arm and she accepted after a slight pause. Would it be the same as it had been that morning? Would simply resting her fingertips on his sleeve make her skin tingle and her blood rush? Would her lungs seize and refuse to allow her to draw even half a breath as if she were waiting in anticipation for him to do something—anything—rather the simply escort her as a gentleman?
Yes, she was a woman widowed. She knew precisely what occurred between a husband and wife. She also knew that she much preferred what occurred between a man and a woman who were only lovers. Apparently, matrimony stripped all the joy and tenderness from the act and left it only perfunctory and humiliating.
But, thanks to Algernon Dunne, she understood desire. She understood pleasure. But she did not understand instantaneous attraction. The heat and spark, the irrational temper, this need to spar with him just to see if she could goad him to some kind of action—those things in her acquaintance with the duke left her stupefied. It was like nothing she’d ever experienced in her life.
Glancing at him from beneath her lashes, she caught his gaze where it had locked onto her lips. Artfully rouged by her maid, they were intended to seduce. And from his expression, it appeared they had succeeded.
Gavin felt his pulse quicken when he looked at her. He didn’t want to take her to the damned theater. He just wanted to take her. If it were up to him, he’d haul her up those stairs to the nearest bed and ease whatever tension and heat had erupted between them since their meeting. It seemed to him that their lust—for he had little doubt, based on what he observed in the way of her admittedly subtle response, that it was a shared reaction—was simply the other side of the coin. Their instant animosity, their temper with one another, that was just another indication of their passionate response to each other, for good or ill. But there were steps to that particular dance and they could not be missed.
“I find myself wondering, Lady Sheridan, if we might not spend some time together without it being entirely for the benefit of Mr. St. James and Miss Linden,” he suggested, walking her toward the door. It was a risky prospect, taking on any woman as his lover when he didn’t know where Meredith was or what she was about. He’d almost convinced himself that the woman in the park that morning had not been her. After all, Meredith was not known for subtlety or for allowing any opportunity to torment him to pass her by.
“I think that could likely be arranged, Your Grace, though I have not yet determined if I think it wise. Suffice to say, it is much on my mind,” she admitted cagily. “And it will be given careful consideration.”
“Are you ever impetuous, Lady Sheffield?” he asked her. It wasn’t a condemnation. At that point, he was simply curious.
“No. I have never been. During my marriage, such behavior would surely have had consequences that were swift and…unpleasant,” she replied. “Following my husband’s death? Well, I have my son and his future to consider. I understand how my behavior effects him and that what society thinks of me will one day impact his choices greatly. As a widow, I can be scandalous, but only to a degree.”
They stepped out into the night and toward the waiting carriage emblazoned with his ducal crest. It was all pomp and circumstance, after all. The entire point of the outing was that the entirety of the ton should presume them to be lovers, with Stephan and Miss Linden acting as their pseudo-chaperones, while in fact the reverse was true. They were pretending in order to allow the young couple to bask in the glory of first love, albeit innocently, for a while longer. Reality would intrude soon enough.
Gavin glanced back at them and saw that they were attempting to act as though they were not entirely enrapt with one another. They were failing.
“If this is to work, Lady Sheffield, we cannot simply ask that Stephan and Miss Linden curb their outward display of affection for one another. I do not think it is possible for them to dim a light that shines so brightly,” he said. “We must, instead, provide a greater distraction for the gossips.”
“And how should we do that, Your Grace?”
Gavin glanced back at the young man whom he’d come to view almost as a son. “If society wants to see a love match, we should give them one.”
“It’s a dangerous game,” she said.
“It is… But it is worth the risk, do you not think?”
It was her turn to glance back at the young couple. A sigh escaped her rouged lips, drawing his eye once more to the perfect cupid’s bow and the fullness of her lower lip that begged to be kissed.
“Will a time ever come, Your Grace, when women are permitted to be the arbiters of their own fate? That we should be permitted to determine if, when and whom to marry? Whom to give ourselves to body and soul?” There was a tinge of sadness to her voice, a wistfulness that hinted of her own girlhood dreams long since packed away.
“I cannot say. I can only hope that will one day be the case.”
“Do you?” she asked.
“Why should I not? I have known a great number of sensible and insensible people of both genders in my life. I find that sex has no bearing on one’s ability to function in the world outside of the laws that inhibit one from doing so. There are women I would turn to for guidance long before I would take the advice of a man,” he admitted. “So, yes, I think women should be permitted the same rights and responsibilities that a man has.”
Her gaze turned to him once more. “Be careful with such statements, Your Grace, or I may not have to pretend.”
“Did you see them?”
“They were sitting so very close! Their limbs were touching!”
“I heard he lived like a savage in the Americas!”
“He was never intended to be the duke, you know? He was the second son of a fourth son, for Heaven’s sake! He’ll bring no pride to the name.”
“She should be ashamed of herself. Cavorting with Dunne for years and spurning him for a title!”
It was intermission, mere hours after they’d departed Lady Sheffield’s house for the theater. And the whispers rang like the clear tinkling of bells as the throng gathered in the halls and entryway of the theater. Gavin smirked. “It appears we have played our part well.”
Her lips quirked in something that wasn’t quite a smile, but her eyes were narrowed with displeasure. “For the time being, but I fear that if we do not give them more of a spectacle, then by tomorrow someone will have usurped our position in the gossip mill.”
He leaned against the wall of the box, legs crossed at the ankle and hands linked in front of him. “What do you have in mind?”
“Send Mr. St. James on his way. I will send Helen to Lady Deerfield to escort her home.”
Gavin laughed. “Lady Deerfield! The biggest gossip in all of society?”
“One of,” she agreed. “Lady Deerfield will see her home. And in the meantime, I shall feel a megrim coming on and you will be kind enough to escort me from the theater. Just the two of us. Alone. In your carriage. In the dark.”
Each additional clarification punctuated the tension between them. It was no longer about pretending. They’d moved beyond that, and they both knew it. “And shall I stay with you and tend to you until Miss Linden returns home?”
“Naturally. There would be no better way to cement our status as the most scandalous attachment of the season than for Lady Deerfield to witness you sneaking away from my home under the darkness of night.”
Gavin blinked at that. “You do not intend for me to stay with you? I thought… Well, I had rather imagined that we were beyond coy games and had reached an understanding.”
Lady Sheffield looked around the theater f
rom her perch at the front of their box. “And we shall, but not tonight. I’m a contrary enough creature not to do what they all think I am doing, regardless of the fact that their speculation serves my purposes. I will send word to you tomorrow about where we shall meet. You will be free in the afternoon, will you not?”
“I will make a point of it,” he vowed.
CHAPTER FOUR
FROM THE LADIES’ LONDON OBSERVER
Of a certain Lady S has made her move. She is no longer pining for her previous paramour, the Right Honorable Mr. A.D. but has moved on to far more graceful pastures. Ducal pastures at that. After making a spectacle of themselves at the theater, ALONE in Lady S’s box, the smitten duo abandoned their young wards into the care of others and returned to Lady S’s abode. This is not gossip, my dear readers, but fact, as the Duke of W was witnessed vacating the premises under the dark of night with several articles of clothing missing or askew. I daresay this scandal will keep us all talking for some time to come.
Aurora read the column again. Normally she ignored the scandal sheets but as her goal had been obtaining a mention in them, checking one’s handiwork seemed necessary.
“What are you up to?” Helen asked. “You’re smiling like the cat with the cream.”
Aurora looked up from the breakfast table. Typically she would break her fast in her room, but with Helen in residence it seemed rude to leave the girl to languish over her morning meal alone. “Well, let us just say that Duke of Westerhaven and I have found common ground.”
Helen blinked in surprise. "I thought you had taken him in dislike. I did not foresee that our outing to the theater would change anything so drastically!”
The Other Wife (The Dunne Family Series Book 3) Page 3
