The Rebel Wife: Book Four in the Regency Romps Series

by Elizabeth Bramwell

  They stood beside the fireplace, each plastering a society mask across their features in the hope that the rest of Colbourne’s dinner guests remained oblivious to the Earl’s anger.

  “I left to protect her, as well you know,” he replied, trying his hardest to keep his expression civil. “She was barely out of the schoolroom, and if your father hadn’t have been dying I’d have never let myself be coerced into going through with the marriage.”

  “Are you suggesting my sister isn’t good enough for you?” Colbourne’s voice was a low growl, and only an idiot would have been unaware of the danger they stood in.

  “That’s not what I meant, and you know it. She should have been older, and allowed a real choice in the matter.”

  Colbourne scoffed. “If you think for a moment that Kate didn’t know what she was doing when she married you, then either you’re a bigger fool than I believed, or you’ve underestimated her so spectacularly that fool is too mild a term to assign you.”

  Alex swallowed down his anger. “I did what I thought was right, and I thought you of all people would understand! We were friends once, Duncan. Good ones at that.”

  “Aye, we were, and then you abandoned my baby sister to all the spite of the Ton, and never once thought of anyone but yourself. Understand this, Alex; the only reason you are welcome under my roof is because Kate asked and Bella insisted.”

  “This seems a very earnest conversation, my love,” said the new Lady Colbourne as she came over to join them. Alex watched as his childhood friend softened in his demeanour toward the small, pretty woman he’d so recently married.

  “A disagreement over the importance of roman hat pins,” said Duncan, taking his wife’s hand and pressing a firm kiss to her fingers.

  Lady Colbourne rolled her eyes.

  “As if you understood anything his Grace said to you,” she replied. “Lord Lexborough, your wife informs me that you are a very important antiquarian. I understand very little about the Roman period, I’m afraid, but I would love to hear more about your excavations in Italy if you would condescend to share them with me after dinner. My mother has an inexplicable fondness for Lake Garda.”

  “Has she been there many times?” he asked, glad for the interruption and perfectly willing to discuss the area with an attentive audience.

  “Never in her life,” replied the Countess with a cheerful grin, “but my younger sisters have been plaguing her about an early come out, so I can quite see why she is set on moving to foreign shores!”

  “I… see,” was all he could think to say in response, which seemed to amuse both the Earl and the Countess greatly.

  There was little time for further conversation, however, for dinner was announced, and Kate, as the highest-ranking lady at the gathering, naturally led the way into the dining room. It was a fancy of his, he supposed, that the parlour seemed to cool as she left it, and that the demeanour of all the other guests, in turn, cooled toward him, although he did not, at first, comprehend why it would seem that way.

  The reason for this unease soon became evident: he was on trial.

  Not in the strictest sense of the word, of course, but it was painfully obvious that the range of ladies and gentlemen invited to dine represented those who were good friends with either his wife or her sister-in-law. While Kate had never so much as breathed a word of censure about him within his hearing, it was increasingly evident from the not-so-subtle jabs and jokes at his expense that her closest friends and family were not well pleased with her choice of husband.

  “Tell me, your Grace; why do you find the dead so much more enchanting than the living?” asked Duncan, embracing the informal nature of the dinner and addressing him from the head of the table. “One would have thought they did not make the most exciting of conversationalists.”

  Lords Loughcroft and Gloucester – both keen amateurs in the field of antiquities – seemed to find this jab amusing. Lady Loughcroft frowned, but since her gaze was directed at Kate he was not fool enough to believe that she did so out of any affection or esteem toward him.

  “That depends, Colbourne,” he replied, helping himself to some quite delicious spears of roasted asparagus from a nearby serving dish. “Where they unable to speak, I might agree with you, but when their writings and etchings can reveal a world that we might otherwise never get to witness, I find them to be the most erstwhile of companions.”

  There was a slight hush over the room.

  “That sounds awfully romantic, your Grace,” said Lady Colbourne, subjecting him to a considering gaze. “Where do you go to see their writings?”

  “At present – the British museum!” he said, but it was only when his self-depreciating laugh was met with an absolute silence that he suspected his joke had fallen on unfertile ground.

  “He’s referring to Åkerblad’s discovery that demotic text used phonetic characters to spell foreign names on the Rosetta Stone,” said Kate, although her attention seemed to be focussed on capturing a wafer-thin slice of ham with her fork. “It’s simply fascinating when you think about it; perhaps we will uncover the key to Egyptian Hieroglyphs yet, and the secrets of their society soon after.”

  “Why am I not surprised to learn that you know of such things,” said Lady Gloucester, raising her glass of wine in Kate’s direction. “You clever creature, you!”

  “Kate’s right, as usual,” said Colbourne with a fond glance over at his sister. “I’ve never bought into the belief that the Egyptians would go to the trouble of carving such complex patterns into the walls of their holy places and it not be a comprehensive language.”

  The conversation quickly turned to Alex’s favourite subject – the Ancient World – but he found himself staring in amazement at his wife, who offered very little further input beyond an occasional astute observation about the study of antiquaries. She did not meet his gaze, instead reserving most of her attention for the delectable dishes and removes that Lady Colbourne’s excellent staff provided for each course.

  She preferred her meat roasted rather than baked in a sauce, he noted. Sugared dishes did not tempt her unless they contained thick cream. She’d practically groaned with delight when she saw the dish of buttered parsnips, and his mouth kicked up in a smile to realise that his wife had succumbed to the fashion of eating vegetables.

  “Well, Ladies, shall we leave the gentlemen to their port?” asked Lady Colbourne, rising to her feet. Alex blinked in surprise, realising that both courses of dinner and desert had passed by without him so much as tasting a single thing he had put into his mouth.

  Lady Colbourne, Kate, and the other ladies left the room, heading back to the parlour for wine and no doubt discussions about the latest fripperies and fashions that were considered essential for a woman of quality.

  As the door clicked shut behind them, he turned to the gentlemen present – Colbourne, Loughcroft, and Gloucester – to find himself being silently scrutinised.

  “Her Grace did much to ease my wife’s passage into society,” began Gloucester. They had not run in the same circles as children for the Earl was five years his senior. With little knowledge of the man, Alex found he could not read the Earl’s expression.

  “Is that so?”

  Gloucester scowled. “Her Grace made a point to include my Countess in all entertainments from the moment we arrived back in London. In fact, without her condescension I’m not sure the Ton would have welcomed Abby at all.”

  “She drove out to see my wife during her confinement,” said Loughcroft, drumming his fingers on the table.

  “I believe they have been friends for a long time,” said Alex.

  The Viscount had always been an affable, easy-going sort of chap, although at present he looked like an unamused magistrate.

  “You don’t understand; childbirth was not as easy on Emma. Her Grace drove out to see us many times, always bringing little treats or books for my wife to help make the time away from Society more bearable for her. Not to mention how she spends
a fortune on my son; you would have thought the baby her own flesh and blood, the way she’s doted on him since he was born.”

  “She intervened with Lady Harden as well, after her daughter’s marriage,” added Gloucester.

  “And patronises several charities,” said Loughcroft.

  “And artists,” added the Earl. “She presented that young Soprano at her musical gathering last year, remember? Without her Grace’s patronage, the poor girl would have ended up in the seedier parts of London, I have no doubt. Considering her Grace is not musically inclined, it was well done of her.”

  Alex tried to smile, even as his eyebrows drew together in a frown. “Gentlemen, I’m well aware that my wife is a kind-hearted woman.”

  Loughcroft shook his head and sighed before sharing a speaking look with Gloucester.

  “We tried,” said the Earl with a shrug.

  “Do you think either of our wives will accept that?”

  Gloucester shuddered, and then took a deep gulp of his port.

  “What my estimable friends are trying and failing to say, Lexborough, is that my sister – your wife – has worked hard to earn a reputation in the Ton that goes above and beyond a mere rank conveyed upon her. You have been out of London Society for your entire adult life, and know not what a fickle monster it can be,” said Colbourne, his gazed fixed onto Alex.

  “If you are suggesting that I should be concerned that the Ton will not grant the respect due to a Duchess, then my mother-”

  “Your mother has been everything that is kind to Kate, but even she cannot stop the tide of gossip that follows a woman abandoned on her wedding night by a husband who does not return to assume his title until seven years after his father’s death,” said Colbourne, not even attempting to moderate his tone. “Kate has suffered for your neglect, and I’ll be damned if I see her suffer again. What are your intentions, Lexborough? Will you remain in London, in England, and give my sister the support you have so far failed to provide?”

  Alex felt his hands curl up into fists. “I do not believe that I have to subject myself to any interrogation by you, Colbourne.”

  “Not at all,” interjected Loughcroft. “You’d be the greatest fool on Earth if you don’t, of course, but then we’re not convinced you’re the wisest of men.”

  This cut, offered in the most cheerful of tone, struck Alex momentarily dumb, which gave his brother-in-law all the space he needed to move in for the kill.

  “I know you are after the land in Northumberland. I know that you returned to England not for Kate, not for your duties as a peer of this realm, but for some damned Roman ruins on the edge of nowhere.”

  “How the devil do you know my business?”

  Colbourne grinned like the devil. “Because my father-in-law currently owns it.”

  Alex blinked. “I don’t follow. Lord Pocklington owns those lands, not Lord Snowley.”

  “Indeed he does, but Snowley has been dead for half a decade, and his widow married Lord Pocklington shortly before I wed her daughter.”

  Alex felt his heart beginning to race as that one sentence so forcefully brought home to him how little he knew about the Ton. Kate and his mother had no doubt sent him word of Snowley’s death in their letters, but he’d paid such little heed to their society musings, deeming them irrelevant.

  He was deeply regretting his arrogance in that matter now.

  “Still, I fail to see why your relationship to Lord Pocklington has any bearing on this conversation unless you wish to buy the land yourself. It’s not good for much but sheep farming unless you are fond of ancient fortifications.”

  Colbourne didn’t answer straight away. He lifted his glass of port to take a deep drink, his eyes never leaving Alex.

  The glass returned to the table with a dull thud.

  “Let me make this clear to you, Lexborough. I will not watch my sister become the laughing stock of the Ton a second time because of you. If you want that land, then you will not only spend the rest of the Season in London, you will dote on my sister in public until no one can doubt your deep, abiding respect and affection for her.”

  Alex bristled but did not give voice to his thoughts. He had treated Kate with every consideration since his return, and did not half the married peers in the Ton live apart from their spouses? True, he regretted the lost time now he was beginning to understand what a lovely woman she was, but what did that have to do with anyone save Kate and himself?

  “And then?” was all he could bring himself to say through gritted teeth.

  “When I am convinced that the Ton will not consider your eccentric interest in digging up fields in Northumberland as a mark against Kate, then Pocklington will sell you the land at the same price he originally offered.”

  “You would bribe me to entertain your sister,” Alex muttered before he could help it.

  Colbourne slammed his fist down hard upon the table. “I would remind you of your duties as a Duke!”

  The silence that followed was painful. Anger and a large current of shame raced through Alex and robbed him of coherent response. His first thought was that he wanted to go to Kate, to feel her cool hands on his own.

  His second thought was a considerable degree of surprise at the first.

  “The land is-” he began, planning to tell Colbourne that now he was home he found he cared less about the ruins than he did about rebuilding his ties with his family, with Kate, but the sound of an almighty crash from the next room interrupted him before he could complete his sentence.

  Loughcroft and Gloucester got to their feet with sighs of resignation rather than any alarm at the noise.

  “I believe that is our signal to rejoin the ladies,” said the Earl. “I lay you a monkey that Emma was responsible for that racket.”

  Loughcroft shook his head. “Abby, no doubt about it.”

  Colbourne got to his feet and followed the other gentlemen without uttering another word, and Lexborough, despite outranking them all, found himself lagging behind.

  *

  “I told you it was possible!” laughed Bella as she pulled the blindfold away from her eyes with her left hand, the crossbow still clutched in her right.

  Abby groaned as she walked dejectedly over to her hostess’ secrétaire in search of paper upon which to scratch her vowels. “That should have been impossible.”

  Emma, who had stooped to retrieve the bolt from amongst the shattered remains of the vase, just smiled at her friend. “At this rate, Bella will be soon crowned with the title of Dashing Countess rather than you, dearest.”

  Abby mocked a scowl. “I have heard wonderful things about the London Steam Carriage, Emma. Do not push me.”

  “Did Duncan really buy you a crossbow?” asked Kate, holding her hand out to her sister-in-law for the weapon in question. “Have you any idea how monstrously jealous I am right now?”

  Bella clambered down from the chair she had been standing on and handed her the crossbow. “Indeed, although to be fair he did say that he was worried you might prove to be the better shot after our last competition. He bought me that to apologise.”

  “I’ve never shot one of these,” said Kate appreciatively.

  “Since you outshot me with the pistol and the bow at our last competition, I doubt you’ll have trouble picking it up,” said Bella without any malice. “You just have to get used to the quirks.”

  Kate was still contemplating the weapon as the door opened and the gentlemen entered.

  “We did not expect to see you for at least half an hour,” said Emma, her face lighting up as her husband strolled into the room.

  Kate tried to bury the pang of jealousy by turning her attention back to the crossbow. Her brother wandered over to the fireplace and inspected the shards of china strewn about the floor.

  “Good grief, you shot the vase,” said Duncan with a weary sigh.

  “You hated that vase,” replied Bella with a shrug. “Besides, I shall buy you a new one that will be excessively pretty.�
��

  “Perhaps we should just set up an archery target on the mantelpiece instead, so we don’t have to replace the ornaments every time you and Kate get it into your heads to prove who is the better shot between you.”

  Abby, who was still writing her note of hand for Bella, glanced up. “I thought it was you who shot the Staffordshire figures last time, Colbourne?”

  Kate laughed along with everyone else as her brother gave a world-weary sigh. “I think you will find, my dear lady Gloucester, that was an entirely different matter altogether.”

  “Did you make that shot, Kate?” asked Alex, his eyes on the crossbow. She couldn’t quite read his expression, unsure as to whether he was annoyed, amused, or just disbelieving.

  “I’m not the one wearing a blindfold,” she replied with a smile.

  It wasn’t returned.

  “I have just had a monstrously good idea,” declared Abby, resolutely ignoring the audible groan admitted by her husband. “We shall have a picnic and a lady’s shooting tournament to raise funds for the orphanage!”

  “Wouldn’t that be a little too dashing, dearest?” asked Emma, looking both excited and dubious. “I mean, a public shooting contest?”

  “A tournament, not a contest,” clarified Abby, “so there’s nothing contemptible about a simple display of our skills. We can host it in Berkeley Square, and hopefully encourage a few more sponsors for the children.”

  “It does sound like a lot of fun,” said Bella as she placed the blindfold on a small side table. “And considerably more entertaining than the sewing circle.”

  “That I can agree with,” said Kate as her enthusiasm began to bubble up. “How much fun it would be!”

  “Is it the done thing?” asked Alex, and something in his tone suggested that he thought it was not.

  Kate, who suspected her brother had been about to veto the plan, sighed as she watched Duncan’s expression harden. Evidently, the after-dinner conversation over port had not gone well for the gentlemen.

  “It is hardly scandalous for the ladies to practice a respectable hobby in front of their friends, or to partake of a picnic. I think it is an excellent idea,” he said, and Bella threw herself at him with a squeal of excited happiness.