Rules of Refinement (The Marriage Maker)

by Tarah Scott

  Kennedy returned home that afternoon to find his wife, her mother and sister out. When he questioned the staff, he learned they had gone dress shopping. For a woman in such need of money, she certainly didn’t mind spending it on frivolous things at the first opportunity.

  He headed to his office and threw himself into work, hoping to forget his inability to help his sister. He hadn’t even bedded his wife yet. He winced at memory of last night’s argument. He’d been completely in the wrong. Once his anger abated, he recognized the wide-eyed shock on her face when she’d caught sight of his erection. That look belonged to a woman who’d never seen a man’s arousal.

  He hadn’t meant to insult her, but he meant what he said. The antiquated idea that a man could seek pleasure whenever and wherever he chose, while a woman was obligated to remain chaste, was ridiculous. Jacqueline hadn’t been a virgin, and he hadn’t cared. But Anne wasn’t Jacqueline. She clearly considered any attack on her chastity an attack on her honor.

  A commotion in the hallway jarred Kennedy from his work on the labor contracts he reviewed. He glanced at the clock. Four P.M. He had been working for over two hours. The voices in the hallway grew louder, and he recognized Louisa‘s laugh. Warmth rippled through him. Rose had often complained that she wanted a little sister. Louisa may not be exactly what she had in mind, but the two girls would get along famously.

  The voices grew closer and he braced himself when the door burst open and Louisa rushed in with a dress box under her arm. She spotted him and broke into a bright smile. Anne and her mother entered the room. Anne’s cheeks were flushed and her eyes were bright with laughter. She was breathtaking.

  Kennedy rose and walked around his desk toward them.

  “Kennedy, I am so glad you are home,” Louisa cried.

  He laughed. “Then I am glad, as well.”

  “Kennedy,” the viscountess said as she removed her gloves.

  “My lady.” He gave a slight bow, then addressed his wife, “Anne.”

  “Good afternoon, my lord,” she replied.

  He saw none of the anger from the night before and prayed that she’d forgiven him.

  Louisa hurried to the divan near the window and dropped the box she carried onto the cushion. “You must see this dress I have just purchased for the ball tonight.”

  Kennedy halted next to Anne. “The ball tonight?”

  “Aye,” Louisa said. “Mama has agreed to allow me to come.” She tore the top off the box, but Kennedy was no longer looking at her.

  “We are no’ attending the ball tonight,” he told Anne.

  She frowned. “But your father and stepmother are hosting the party in honor of our marriage. We must attend.”

  He gave a harsh laugh. “Nae, we do not have to attend.”

  “We are not attending the ball?” Louisa asked.

  Kennedy glanced at her. She stood, holding a pink velvet evening gown up against her body.

  “My lord,” Anne said, “is it not better to stay on good terms with your father?”

  He snapped his gaze onto her. “I am on as good terms with him as is possible,” he said in a level voice.

  “Oh dear,” Louisa said. “You are angry that we charged my dress and shoes to you, aren’t you?”

  He looked at the girl in surprise. “You charged the dress to me?” The moment the words left his mouth, he realized his mistake.

  Tears appeared in the girl’s eyes and she plopped down on the divan. The viscountess hurried to her daughter and sat beside her.

  “Ye need not worry, my lord, I will pay for the dress,” Anne said in a tight voice. She started toward her sister.

  Kennedy grasped her arm. “Wait.”

  He released her and took the three steps to the couch and squatted eye level with Louisa. She wasn’t crying—yet—but the sadness in her eyes tore at his heart. He placed a finger beneath her chin and gently tilted her head upward so that she has forced to meet his gaze.

  “I don’t at all mind paying for your dress,” he said. “I simply hadn’t planned on going to the party, so you caught me off guard.” He smiled. “You know that ladies oftentimes catch gentlemen off guard.”

  Her expression cleared. “I have noticed that. I have a friend Robert. We’ve known each other since we were four. Of late, however, he sometimes says the strangest things. It’s very silly and I’ve asked him if he has some sort of brain disease. That only seemed to upset him, though, and he gets tongue-tied. Is that what you mean?”

  He laughed. “Well, I suspect that Robert’s malady has more to do with the fact that you are a very pretty young lady, rather than a brother who wasn’t planning to go to a party. But you have the general idea.”

  “If you do not want to go to the party tonight, that is quite all right. I do not mind returning the dress and the shoes and…” she gave him a sheepish smile, “the gloves.”

  He stood. “Not at all. Anne is correct. We should stay on good terms with my father. We shall all go.”

  Louisa leapt to her feet and threw her arms around him. “I wasn’t at all happy about Anne marrying some stranger. But now I’m very glad she married you.”

  Kennedy felt his wife’s eyes bore into the back of his head. He wasn’t at all sure she was happy she had married him.

  * * *

  Anne entered the ballroom of her father-in-law’s mansion on Kennedy’s arm and took a deep breath as they paused in the doorway. Her mother and sister halted beside them. Dancers slid across the dancefloor in a rousing country dance and guests filled the rest of the space in the massive room.

  “Oh my,” Louisa breathed. “I have never seen a ballroom this large.”

  “Remember, you are to remain with me or Anne,” their mother said.

  “What of Kennedy?” Louisa smiled at him. “Surely, it is safe for me to stay with him if you and Anne are busy.”

  “I am sure Kennedy will be very busy,” she replied.

  He smiled down at her. “Louisa is welcome to remain with me, if she likes.”

  Louisa smiled back, adoration beaming in her eyes, and Anne realized Louisa had taken her words to heart and had embraced Kennedy as her new brother. Her heart tugged. It hadn’t occurred to her that Louisa might benefit from the addition of a man into their family.

  Their mother angled her head toward Kennedy. “As you wish, Kennedy.” Uncharacteristic amusement shown in her eyes. “You may regret that invitation.”

  “There are so many people. Where do we begin?” Louisa asked.

  “If ye like, I can introduce you to some ladies who might share some of your interests,” Kennedy said.

  Anne wondered how he might know what their interests were, but she nodded and thanked him.

  The next hour was spent with Kennedy making introductions. Her head buzzed with names and music and the din of voices, but Anne had to admit that a couple of the ladies did appear quite interesting. Lady Hanna knew a great deal about agriculture, and the next lady they met, Miss Watson, clearly had a head for astronomy.

  “I am surprised you associate with bluestockings,” Anne said, when Miss Watson was whisked to the dance floor by a handsome gentleman.

  Kennedy met her gaze. “I believe I told you that I respect a woman who knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to pursue it.” He lifted a brow. “Did you think I was lying?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “I thought you were pursuing something that you wanted at that moment.”

  He laughed, then introduced them to two more ladies who talked of nothing but sewing, parties and dresses.

  “Is that more to your liking, my lady? he asked when they finally left the ladies.

  “It wasn’t to my liking,” Louisa said. “Forgive me for saying so, Kennedy, but they were excessively dull.”

  “Louisa,” their mother hissed in a low voice when two ladies glanced their way.

  “Don’t reprimand her for speaking the truth,” Kennedy said. “I happen to agree.” He looked at Louisa. “Still, I am surpri
sed. I know you like dresses and parties, so why did you find them dull?”

  “Of course, I like dresses and parties,” she said as if talking to a child. “They are great fun. But I wouldn’t go on about them and talk of nothing else. Have they no other interests?”

  Kennedy chuckled. “Not that I know of.”

  Louisa made a face. “Must we be friends with them?”

  “For heaven’s sake, Louisa,” her mother said. “Keep your voice down.”

  Louisa hung her head. “Of course, Mama.”

  Kennedy leaned close to Louisa and whispered, “Never fear, you need not be friends with anyone you don’t like.”

  She beamed. “Thank you. I’m thirsty, Mama. May I have champagne?”

  “You may not,” she replied. “You may have lemonade.”

  Louisa slanted a look up at Kennedy. “Kennedy, don’t you think that fourteen is old enough to have just a little champagne?”

  Their mother stiffened.

  He tweaked one of Louisa’s curls. “I think that fourteen is old enough to know better than to ask her brother to countermand her mother’s instructions.”

  Louisa blinked and Anne thought she would pout. Instead, she shrugged and said, “I suppose I have much to learn about having a brother.”

  He laughed again and Anne noted a tinge of sadness this time.

  The orchestra struck up a waltz.

  “You and Anne haven’t dance,” Louisa said. “The waltz is so romantic. You must dance.”

  Kennedy looked at her. “Shall we, my lady?”

  The last thing she wanted was to dance with him, but how could she refuse? She nodded, and he grasped her hand, tucked it into the crook of his arm, and led her toward the dance floor.

  Once they were out of earshot of her mother and sister, she said, “You need not dance with me.”

  He looked at her. “There is nothing strange in a man dancing with his wife.”

  She wasn’t his wife—not truly. Not yet.

  “True, but Louisa forced you to ask me.”

  “Never fear, few people can force me to do anything.”

  They reached the dance floor. He pulled her close and stepped into the music. She wasn’t surprised to find he was an excellent dancer.

  “Who are the few people who can force you to do anything?” she asked.

  His gaze snapped onto her. “What?”

  “You said few people can force you to do anything. Who are those few people?”

  “I suppose there is only one person in truth,” he said, as if speaking to himself.

  “Who?”

  He seemed lost in thought, and only shook his head. “It is of no consequence.”

  “Your father?” she asked.

  His full mouth thinned and he looked at her. “Why ask questions you already know the answers to?”

  She considered. “I am sorry you were forced to marry me.”

  He released a breath and guided them past a couple, then sidestepped another couple who nearly rammed them.

  “It isn’t your fault, Anne.”

  “True,” she replied. “But you’re clearly unhappy with marriage.”

  Interest lit his eyes. “Are you saying that because we didn’t consummate our marriage last night?”

  Embarrassment warmed her cheeks. “I-I didn’t mean that, at all.”

  The interest turned to amusement. “We are not the first married couple not to consummate their marriage on their wedding night.”

  Anne nibbled on her lip. “There is always tonight.”

  “Have you plans for me, my sweet?”

  What plans did she have? “We are not truly married until…”

  His amusement vanished. “You want to earn that five thousand pounds as quickly as possible. I am a fool.”

  Anne gasped. Then anger whipped through her. “Why not? This is a business arrangement after all—nothing more.”

  His eyes darkened. “Then I shall be at your service tonight, madam.”

  “If you are certain that you are up to it, my lord? I don’t want to inconvenience you.”

  “Too late,” he shot back. “You have inconvenienced me a great deal.”

  He yanked her against him and turned her in a tight whirl that made her dizzy—and aware of his hard length.

  “I must now devise a way not to embarrass myself in front of Edinburgh’s elite,” he said.

  Then she found herself being whirled off the dance floor and out the balcony doors.

  * * *

  Kennedy brought Anne to a halt. She tried to shove away from him, but he tightened his grip and kissed her. Then released her. She took two faltering steps backward.

  “Just a preview of things to come,” he said.

  “How very fortunate for me,” she said.

  “Oh, it will be, that I promise.”

  She released a frustrated breath, then turned and hurried back into the ballroom.

  Kennedy started after her, then thought better of it and pivoted, headed for the gardens. He crossed the balcony, took the three steps down to the lawn, and slowed to a stroll. Anne didn’t deserve his disdain. She was right. Their marriage was a business arrangement. Oddly, the thought bothered him. She was also correct in that he wasn’t happy being married. He’d known he would someday marry, but it galled him that his father had forced the issue and had even chosen his bride.

  Underneath it all, though, he feared for Rose. He couldn’t allow himself to dwell on her. For the moment, he felt certain she was safe. The longer she was away, however, the greater the chances that her keepers would grow careless. And he couldn’t consider what would happen if his father died.

  He needed Anne to bear him a son just as much as she wanted to. He couldn’t fault her for that. Tonight, he would consummate their marriage. A small sense of satisfaction arose. If his father had any idea that he hadn’t consummated the marriage last night, he’d be furious. Now that he thought of it, he should have married long ago and simply never consummated the marriage. That would’ve driven his father mad, and he would have had no recourse to kidnap Rose. He was wrong. His father would have secreted her away and demanded Kennedy bed is wife and bear a child.

  Why hadn’t it occurred to him that his father would use Rose? Because, despite everything, Kennedy simply had never believed his father would put his own daughter in jeopardy. He wouldn’t underestimate the old man again.

  “Kennedy.”

  Kennedy halted. Bloody hell. He turned to face Jacqueline. “What are you doing here?”

  “I saw you and Anne leave the ballroom, but she returned immediately. Is something amiss?”

  “What is amiss, Jacqueline, is that my father has kidnapped my sister and blackmailed me into marriage.”

  She stepped closer and laid a hand on his arm. “You know your father will never allow any harm to come to Rose.”

  “He threatened to marry her to Granbury. There is no worse harm that can come to her.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t believe he would do it.”

  “Then you are a fool.”

  She stepped closer. “Does she please you?”

  He didn’t have to ask who the ‘she’ was. “Very much so,” he said.

  “Does she please you as much as I used to?”

  Kennedy stared down at her. Even in the pale moonlight she was beautiful. “Aye, she pleases me very much.”

  Jacqueline laid her palms on his chest. “Perhaps you have forgotten how much I please you.”

  He grasped her hands and removed them from his chest. “You should remember that you’re married to my father.”

  “You know how ill he is, Kennedy. He hasn’t been able to…” She looked up at him through her lashes. “I am very lonely.”

  He gave her a cold smile. “Perhaps there is a stable hand who will oblige. I understand you like stable hands.”

  “You know that is a vicious lie.”

  “I know nothing of the sort. In fact, I would be surprised if it w
asn’t true.”

  She slapped him. His cheek stung. He wanted to shake her, demand to know why she’d chosen his father. But he knew why.

  She whirled toward the mansion and hurried away. He watched until she disappeared from view. Had she always been so cold and calculating? He thought back. She was driven. That was something he’d always admired about her. What he hadn’t understood was the motivation behind that drive. She would have what she wanted at all costs. Were all women like that?

  He thought of Anne. Aye, she was determined, as well. Unlike Jacqueline, however, she never pretended to love him. Of course, he’d known her for less than two days. There was still time for her to pretend many things. He recalled her ire moments ago, and wondered if she were capable of doing anything but showing what was in her heart. He sighed. Time would tell.

  Chapter Six

  Anne reentered the ballroom and scanned the room for her mother and Louisa, but found no sign of them. She stopped a passing waiter and took a glass of champagne from his tray, then glanced back in the direction of the open balcony doors. The man really was impossible. She took two deep gulps of champagne. He had better get her with child soon, because she was liable to murder him. Her stomach performed a somersault at the memory of his promise, “I will be at your service tonight, madam.”

  The words were spoken in anger, but she hadn’t missed the deep timbre of his voice and the intensity of his gaze when he’d said them. Anne took another gulp of champagne. She’d never known a more insufferable man. Perhaps she should ask her mother how to deal with him. Nae. Her mother would be aghast to learn they hadn’t consummated their marriage. A lady always submitted to her husband’s commands in the bedchambers.

  Anne lifted the champagne glass to her lips and found only a small mouthful remained. Where was another waiter? She scanned the room and caught sight of Jacqueline entering the ballroom from the balcony. Anne hadn’t seen her outside. Had she spoken with Kennedy?