Rules of Refinement (The Marriage Maker)
Page 37
Had Kennedy returned to the ballroom? She searched the room again, but there were so many people, she might have overlooked him. Jacqueline turned, and their eyes met. Anne read something there. Guilt? Jacqueline started toward her. Oh Lord, she was in no mood to speak to the woman. She didn’t like her. But she couldn’t ignore her. Jacqueline knew that she had seen her.
“There she is, Mama,” Louisa said behind her.
Anne turned as her mother and sister neared her. “I’m so relieved to see you,” she blurted.
Her mother’s eyes sharpened and Anne realized her mistake. She thought her mother would say something, but her eyes shifted past Anne and Jacqueline appeared beside them an instant later.
“Good evening, Lady Kinsley,” she said. “Lady Louisa, you look lovely.”
“Thank you,” Louisa bubbled over. “This is a special dress I wore just for this party.”
“It’s absolutely perfect,” Jacqueline said, then she turned to Anne. “I am so glad to find you. I have been looking for you for the last hour.” Anne had the feeling she was lying. “The earl would like to meet you,” Jacqueline said.
The earl wanted to meet her? She recalled Kennedy saying that she wouldn’t meet his father if he had his way. She glanced toward the balcony doors, but saw no sign of him.
“I hope he hasn’t fallen asleep,” Jacqueline said. “He now sleeps far more than he is awake.” She smiled at Anne’s mother. “It is so difficult.” She sighed, then looked at Anne. “Come, let’s go up to his chambers.”
“Perhaps I should wait for Kennedy,” Anne said.
“Do you know where he is?” Jacqueline asked.
“I left them out on the balcony,” Anne replied.
“I just came from the gardens,” Jacqueline said. “He was taking a walk.”
Shock reverberated through Anne. “You saw him in the gardens?”
“Oh, yes, walking in the gardens is a favorite activity of ours.”
Anne caught the startled look on her mother’s face.
“Kennedy has been so wonderful during his father’s illness,” Jacqueline said. “I don’t know what I would have done without him.”
Her tone was intimate. But why wouldn’t it be? They were family. Anne was being ridiculous. But it had been disturbing the way Jacqueline rested her hand on Kennedy’s arm yesterday morning at the wedding feast. Anne was no fool. She’d watched her friends flirt and bat their eyes to gain a young man’s attention. A woman didn’t touch a man’s arm like that unless they were close.
Jacqueline smiled sweetly. “Please, Joseph has expressly asked to see you.” She angled her head toward Anne’s mother.” You will excuse us, Lady Kinsley. Come along, Anne.”
Anne hesitated, then nodded. “I will return soon, Mama. Please let Kennedy know where I am. I am sure he will return from his walk in the garden soon.”
Her mother nodded, then Anne followed Jacqueline through the crowd to a hallway, but she wished mightily she was in the gardens with her husband.
* * *
Kennedy reentered the ballroom with the intention of finding Anne and Louisa and returning home. They had stayed long enough for Louisa to have gotten her fill of the party. He caught sight of them near the left hand wall and started toward them. He brushed past a group of men, and waited for three ladies to pass when he heard his name called. Kennedy cursed, and turned to face his uncle as the older man reached him.
“Can we speak?” Ranald asked.
“Can it wait?” Kennedy asked. “I am meeting my wife’s mother and sister.”
Ranald’s expression brightened. “I had hoped to meet your wife.”
“Come along, then.” Kennedy turned and dodged two passing gentlemen, then pushed through the throng that seemed to have grown during his walk in the garden.
They reached the two women, and the viscountess said, “Kennedy I am relieved to see you,” then broke off when Ranald stepped up beside him.
“My lady, this is my uncle, Lord Ranald,” Kennedy said. “Ranald, Lady Kinsley and her daughter Lady Louisa.”
“Ma’am.” Ranald bowed over the older woman’s hand. Louisa curtsied and he bowed in return.
“What is amiss?” Kennedy demanded, then realized he had spoken too loudly when a group of nearby man looked their way. “What has happened? he said in a low voice.
She hesitated, and Kennedy said, “You may speak freely in front of my uncle.”
She glanced at the older man, then said in a low voice, “Your stepmother took Anne up to meet your father.”
“Bloody hell,” he cursed. “I instructed her not to leave the ballroom,” he said.
The dowager viscountess’s brows rose. “You clearly do not know your wife, if you expected that command to be followed.”
“My wife will learn to heed my commands,” he said.
Amusement flickered in her eyes. “It may be you who learns a few lessons,” she murmured.
“I take it you believe a wife has the right to ignore her husband’s wishes?”
“Not at all. I am simply experienced enough to know that a marriage—a happy marriage—is not built on obedience to commands.”
“She has a point,” Ranald said.
Kennedy gave his uncle a narrow-eyed look. “I can see an interesting road lies ahead for me.”
“Of that you may be assured,” the viscountess said. “First, however, you might want to rescue your stepmother from Anne.”
He blinked. “I beg your pardon? It is Anne who will need rescuing.”
She gave him a polite smile. “You have not yet had cause to learn this, but Anne has a temper.”
He barked a laugh. “Indeed, I have learned that, madam.” He excused himself and headed for his father’s chambers to rescue someone, though he knew not who.
* * *
Anne’s heart squeezed at sight of the elderly man who sat propped up in bed reading a book. He was more than just ill. The paleness of his skin and the tremble in his hands told her he was dying. Still, a keen intelligence stared back at her through the pale blue eyes that watched their approach.
Jacqueline hurried to his bed, then pressed a kiss to his cheek, and said, “My dear, this is Anne.”
Anne stopped a few feet away.
“Come closer.” He beckoned with a gnarled hand.
Anne did as instructed and stopped beside Jacqueline, then curtsied.
“You are very beautiful,” he said.
“Thank you, my lord,” Anne said.
“What do you think of my son? Will he give you a son?”
Anne started at the question. How did she know the answer to such a question?
“I am sure he will do his best, my lord.”
The man’s eyes sharpened. “Will do his best? By now, I expect you to have been working hard to produce an heir.”
Anne blinked. She and Kennedy had been married but a day. How hard could they be ‘working’ to have a child? “Forgive me, sir, but it is not proper for a wife to speak of such things, especially to her husband’s father.”
“She is right, my dear,” Jacqueline said. “Anne is a new bride.”
“Bah! We have no time to stand on such ceremony.” His gaze locked with hers. “I know you need the five thousand pounds I promised once you produce an heir. I will pay you an extra five thousand pounds if you remain in Kennedy’s bed every night between now and when you get pregnant.”
Anne stared. The man was mad. But it was more than that, she realized. Here was the reason Kennedy hadn’t wanted her to meet his father. The man was trying to control his life right down to how many times they…
“Forgive me, my lord, but I cannot see how you could possibly confirm I was deserving of the extra five thousand pounds.” She lifted her brows. “Unless, that is, you intend to be in the bed with us.”
To her shock, the earl didn’t so much as bad an eye at her sarcasm, but said, “If you get pregnant soon, then I will be satisfied that you lived up to your end of the barga
in.”
Kennedy might be insufferable, but this man was cruel. “There was always the chance that I might get pregnant the first or second night we are together,” she said with sickeningly sweet sarcasm.
“Are you willing to take the risk that you will not receive the extra money if you don’t get pregnant right away?” he countered.
“Ah, I see. If I don’t get pregnant immediately, you will assume that Kennedy and I are not sharing a bed. What happens if we share a bed every night, and I do not get pregnant?”
“I am certain Kennedy is skilled enough to make his time in your bed worthwhile.”
“My God, you have bollocks. Whether I get pregnant right away, a year from now, or five years from now, it will have nothing to do with you.”
“But it has a great deal to do with Kennedy,” he replied. “My son will see to it that you have a child within a year.”
The conversation was insane. “Then why offer me more money?” she asked.
“I take no chances when it comes to the heir of my title.”
“In case you have forgotten, you have an heir: my husband. And by-the-by it isn’t just your title. There is mine, as well.”
He nodded. “Aye, my grandson will be the eighth Earl of Buchanan, as well as Viscount Kinsley. That is why I chose you as Kennedy’s bride.”
She’d had enough. “Was there anything else you wanted, my lord, besides ensuring that my husband and I were spending enough time in bed together?”
He regarded her. “You will suit Kennedy well.”
That, Anne hadn’t expected.
“What has he told you about me?”
She hadn’t expected that either. What was she supposed to say? She gave him a cool smile. “Nothing, really. I’m sure you understand we haven’t spent our time talking.”
Satisfaction lit his gaze. He nodded. “Good, very good. It hadn’t occurred to me you might be beautiful, but the fact that you are will hold Kennedy’s interest for a while.”
For a while? Her heart felt as if it had been pierced with a knife.
“I expect you to name your son after me,” he said.
“After you?” It wasn’t uncommon for a father to name his son after his own father. Somehow, Anne doubted that Kennedy would want to follow that tradition. “I will discuss it with Kennedy, of course.”
He waved his hand dismissively, and she wanted to knock the gnarled thing aside. “He will do as you ask.”
Then she understood. “If you suggest that we name our child after you, he will defy you,” she said more to herself than him. “But you expect me to manipulate him for your own ends.”
“It is my right,” he said as if that was sufficient.
Anne laughed. “Not quite. What of my father? Perhaps I would like to name our child after him.”
At last, she saw ire in his eyes. Satisfaction shot through her.
“I will give you another five thousand pounds, if you talk Kennedy into naming your son after me,” he said.
She couldn’t believe her ears. “Keep your five thousand pounds. Keep all your money.” Anne whirled and stopped short at sight of Kennedy standing in the doorway.
Chapter Seven
Kennedy couldn’t take his eyes off his wife as he entered the room. She had just told his father to keep all his money. Kennedy reached her side, grasped her hand and brought it to his lips.
She frowned, her expression turning suspicious when he said, “I missed you, my dear.” He released her and looked at his father. “I didn’t realize you intended to meet Anne tonight, sir.”
“If you had known, you wouldn’t have brought her,” his father replied.
Kennedy smiled coolly. “You have Anne’s sister to thank for our being here. I hadn’t planned on coming, but she had her heart set on attending the party and I couldn’t disappoint her.”
Frustration flickered across his father’s face, and Kennedy cursed his own tongue. Normally, he would have pressed any advantage once he’d broken down his father’s façade. But his father wasn’t above changing the terms of an agreement if pushed hard enough, and Kennedy needed to assure that Rose returned home as soon as possible.
“I believe we have been here long enough to satisfy her,” Anne said. “If you don’t mind, I would like to go home.”
Kennedy smiled at her. “Of course, my dear.”
“It was a pleasure to meet you, my lord,” Anne said. “I hope you feel better soon.” She shifted her attention to Jacqueline and said in a cool tone, “My lady, thank you for a lovely party.”
“Of course,” Jaqueline said. “We are so very happy for you and Kennedy.”
“Remember what I said,” his father said to Anne.
She smiled. “Never fear, sir, I shall be giving everything you said a great deal of thought.” Her gaze shifted onto Kennedy. “Shall we go?”
He angled his head in acknowledgement. “If you are ready, my dear.” Without a backwards glance, they left.
To his wife’s credit she remained quiet until they were halfway down the first flight of stairs. “Forgive me, sir, but I must tell you that your father is an abominable man.”
Kennedy couldn’t help himself. He laughed so hard his eyes watered.
They reached the next floor and she shot him a hard frown as they continued down the dim hallway. “I fail to see the humor in the situation. He had the gall to offer me another five thousand pounds if I spend every night in your bed until I am certain I am pregnant.”
Kennedy looked sharply at her. He hadn’t heard that. “I will speak to him.”
She threw up her hands. “Why bother? He is clearly insane—and there is no talking to an insane person.” Her expression turned sheepish. “I do not think he likes me very much.”
They turned a corner in the hallway.
“He doesn’t like anyone very much,” Kennedy said.
“I can well believe that, but most people aren’t his daughter-in-law.”
“That does go too far, even for him,” Kennedy said. “How does he think he will verify that you have kept your end of the bargain?”
They reached another set of stairs and he gestured for her to precede him.
“I asked that very thing,” she said. “The only way he could be certain is if he were in the room with us.”
Kennedy blinked. “Never say you said that to him.”
“Of course, I did.”
They reached the next level and sounds of the orchestra wafted up to them.
“He had the temerity to say that as long as I got pregnant right away, he would take my word that I had kept up my end of the bargain,” she went on. “It would serve him right, if I didn’t get pregnant anytime soon.”
Alarm shot through him. “Did you tell him we hadn’t consummated the marriage?”
A blush crept up her cheeks. “Nae. It is none of his business. About that, sir—”
“My fault altogether,” he cut in.
She looked up at him in surprise, then smiled. His heart jumped.
“Thank you,” she said.
How different she was from Jacqueline. They seldom fought—well, they seldom fought when they were lovers. But on the rare occasion they did, she made him feel as if her acceptance of his apology was a boon from on high.
Kennedy gave Anne a sideways glance. “Are you against having a child immediately?”
She shook her head. “Of course not. I expected to have children once I married.” She looked up at him, a wry grin on her face. “I told him he could keep all his money. So, it seems I’ve talked myself out of the five thousand pounds he was going to give me once we have a son.”
He’d heard that. Had she known he’d been outside the room? Her responses to his father had been so different than Jacqueline’s. So…unaffected.
“Never mind,” he said. “What matters is in the contract. I will ensure that he pays you the money.”
She released a sigh. “The birth of our child is reduced to a business transaction. I
am not certain I like that.”
“Isn’t that why you married me, for money?” His heart unexpectedly accelerated.
She slowed as they turned another corner and the music from the orchestra grew louder. “It’s a common enough reason to marry,” she said. “But I’m liking less and less the idea of taking money for bearing a child, whether it is a day from now, a year from now or five years from now.”
“If it is a day from now, I will consider that most miraculous,” he said with a grin.
She laughed, and he found he liked the sound. “I promise you, that will not happen,” she said. “Still, I think I will refuse the money.”
“You could always put it into a trust for our son.” Our son. His chest tightened at the vision of her cradling their son before the hearth in their private chambers.
“I will have to think of another way to pay for the upkeep at Dover Hall.” She looked up at him, again, with mischief in her eyes. “You may begin giving me expensive pieces of jewelry anytime you like.”
Again, he laughed so hard his eyes watered.
* * *
Halfway home, a large crack sounded outside the carriage. Kennedy yanked Anne to him as the coach listed hard to the right. He slammed into the carriage wall. The ladies screamed. Louisa crashed into him. He hugged both women close as the carriage came to a jolting halt. The interior lamp went out and they were plunged into darkness.
“Mamma,” Louisa cried, and clung to Kennedy.
“It’s all right, Louisa,” he murmured, then said, “Lady Kinsley, are you unharmed?”
“Aye. Louisa—” she began.
“I have her,” Kennedy said. “She is unharmed. Anne, as well.”
The carriage rocked, then the door to Kennedy’s right was wrenched open and moonlight illuminated the interior of the carriage.
The driver stuck his head inside the carriage. “Is anyone hurt?” he demanded.
Kenney spotted Anne’s mother, leaning against the carriage wall on the other side of the door. “The viscountess, James.”
The footman helped her from the coach. Kennedy handed out Louisa, then Anne, and leapt from the carriage onto the sidewalk of the quiet street.