Her father had never truly cared for her, even when her mother was alive. Fiona could not remember a moment’s affection from him. All the love and care had come from her mother. And now it seemed as if Robert was taking after her father. She had thought they were getting on well together, that perhaps in time he would forget about the annulment, but now, after the debacle at the ball last night and his demand in the salon this morning to find a prospective husband, Fiona knew her time with Robert was coming to an end. She couldn’t fight it. She may not know her husband very well, but on this point, he was implacable. He would not remain married to her.
Fiona descended the stairs to wait for her mother-in-law in the green salon. Fiona had instructed Edwards earlier in the day to remove most of the flowers to other parts of the house. She didn’t want the constant reminder of her debut. She also didn’t wish to be reminded she needed to find a new husband. Although, she was sure, Robert had probably put together a list for her to peruse. His mind was always working, always thinking three steps ahead of everyone else.
Fiona turned away from the mantle and walked to the windows. The gaslights had been turned on in the streets and the glow from the small fires dispelled the inky blackness. She saw their carriage turning up from the mews. Fiona didn’t want another humiliation this night. She didn’t want to be treated like the child Robert thought she was. She should plead the headache and return to her rooms.
With that thought, she turned to leave the salon and found Robert standing in the doorway. How long he had been there, she didn’t know.
“My lord,” she said.
“Fiona.” Robert walked slowly into the salon, his eyes raking her frame in the blue silk. “I see you modified your gown this evening.”
“As per your request.” A small shudder ran through her body. He was so devastatingly handsome, it was all she could do to stand there and not throw her arms around him. The memory of his lips on hers last night in her bedchamber brought another shudder.
“Are you cold?” he asked.
“No, my lord.”
“I thought I asked you to call me Robert.” Annoyance marked his tone.
“You have,” she replied. “I find I need more time to become used to it.”
Robert stepped further into the room, yet not closer to her. He placed his hands behind his back. “I have received a report from my steward in Swansea. It seems I am needed there at the earliest convenience. I have decided I will be traveling in two days time. I have also decided I shall engage Davingdale as your chaperone.”
“I beg your pardon.” Fiona choked on her disbelief.
“I am sure you heard me correctly the first time. Nevertheless, I shall be leaving London in two days time and I shall engage Davingdale as your chaperone.”
“You do not wish me to accompany you,” Fiona stated instead of asked.
“No, this trip is not for pleasure and you will only be bored. The Earl is an admirable chap and will stand you in good stead in the ballrooms. He is a particular friend of mine. However, he does not dance. Rest assured he will only give permission for the best of men to entertain you thus. My mother shall also accompany you as not to give the gossips too much to preen about.”
Fiona stared hard at his face, trying to detect some glimmer of why he was doing this. She found nothing. His calculating mind was too much for her. Obviously, there was a reason for him leaving her as soon as they entered Society, but she was sure he would not share it with her.
“I see,” she said.
Robert arched an eyebrow. “What? No tantrum? No hysteria? Surely, you have some objection. I can see it in your eyes.”
“Yes, my lord, and I can see your decision is resolute. ‘Twould do no good to have hysteria.” She turned away from him and stared out the window.
Lady Joanna took that moment to enter the salon. “Here you are. Are we ready to depart?”
Fiona met her mother-in-law’s eyes with a small smile. “Yes, shall we?” She brushed by Robert without looking at him and preceded Lady Joanna to the front door where Edwards held their wraps.
Fiona descended the front steps to the waiting carriage. Eammon helped her in. She sat in dejected silence as she waited for Lady Joanna and Robert. Devil take it, she would not let him see how his declaration upset her. If he wanted to leave her alone, then so be it. She could do no worse. The Earl of Davingdale was indeed a decent chap.
The lights from the party shone onto the walkway in front of the house. Grandiose as it was, Fiona had seen enough gilt-edged furniture and pretentious artwork to last a lifetime. Even Robert’s house, modest as it was, reminded her of the Museum. What she would give to go home, be in her fields with only the sheep for company.
As they made their way through the long foyer up to the receiving line, Fiona wondered if Robert’s escape to Swansea was truly a sudden circumstance, or had he planned it all along. She would think about it later. Lady Joanna was introducing her to the Duke of Hemmings.
Chapter Fourteen
Robert watched his wife dance with another toady. Damnable fops lined up for her hand as soon as she left the dance floor. Davingdale took it in stride though. His brooding and sullen manner would keep the dandies in check. In a few short months, the annulment would be all over Town and they could take their delight then.
Fiona seemed to be having a good time. With all the attention, why shouldn’t she be? Last evening’s debacle had proved both of them to be the hit of the Season. This week anyway. Robert wondered how long it would take the fodder to die down. How long it would be before every cuckolded man in London didn’t clap him on the back.
Yes, Swansea would be a welcome respite from the tediousness of being married to Fiona. It wasn’t that he didn’t like her, he liked her exceedingly well apart from the fact she was his wife. She’d charmed every single one of the servants, including Edwards. She doted on his mother. She engaged his friends, and appeared to be the perfect wife in public. In only two days, she had taken the role quite to heart and perfected it.
It was when they were alone that she crept under his skin. Had him looking for the itch he couldn’t scratch. She intoxicated him, like a drug or a drink, an obsession he couldn’t fight. She merely had to look at him with those eyes, eyes that mocked him and his sensible behaviour, his pre-ordained destiny as the Duke of Cantin. It turned him inside out. His normally calm and good-natured manner raged against her intolerance of his presumed snobbery. He wanted to slap the impertinence off her face. How many times had he lost his temper? Lost control of his own complacency? No, he needed to get away from her. Before he did or said something he would most assuredly regret.
Robert rubbed his forehead. He took one last look at his wife and stalked from the ballroom. He refused to think about her further. As a matter of course, Robert could say with conviction, he needn’t have to think about her for several weeks. Perhaps months if he could find somewhere else to go.
*****
Fiona watched Robert leave the ballroom. She was quite sure that this time, he would have asked her to dance. Lord Greenleigh insisted husbands never danced with their wives, but Fiona was certain that Robert would at least try to maintain the façade they were happy and in love while he remained in Town. The whole of Society would know before long he had left her. Perhaps that was why he was going, to add drama to their impending annulment. It certainly wasn’t fair, but she had to admit, most resourceful of him. Well, two could play that game.
She graciously refused Lord Habbington-Smythe’s younger brother for a dance and wandered into the dining room. Several people milled about waiting for lobster patties and the dessert tray. Fiona walked to a footman bearing lemonade on a tray. Taking a glass, she moved to the large open windows that overlooked the darkness in the yard below.
“Darling, there you are,” Lady Joanna said.
Fiona smiled at her mother-in-law. It brought a lump to her throat when she realized how much she had come to care for the older woman in such
a short time. All too soon she would lose her. It wasn’t fair of Robert to allow her the luxury of loving people she would eventually have to leave.
“Are you well? You look positively drained.” Lady Joanna touched her arm.
“I believe too much dancing has left me with quite the headache,” Fiona said. “Pray may I return home? Would Robert be put out if I left?”
“Do not worry yourself, my dear.” Lady Joanna took up Fiona’s hand and patted it. “I will inform Robert and make your excuses to Hemmings. Come now, I will walk with you downstairs and get your wrap.”
Fiona gave her mother-in-law a small smile. The quiet of her room would ease her head.
Sitting at her dressing table, brushing out her hair, Fiona knew she had every right to ask Robert the questions any normal wife would ask when presented with the prospect of her husband going away on a trip. Fiona also knew that Robert would probably not answer them. His lack of affection for her tore at her very core. Surely, the man had needs. Fiona could tell she affected Robert, had seen the way his eyes ran up and down her body on several occasions, had seen the muscle near his jaw tick ever so slightly when she danced with Greenleigh. Just once she would like to see him lose abandon, free himself from the cloying reins of proper etiquette.
Yes, the abandon he had used in beating Stockton to a bloody pulp freed him, but was in anger. Fiona wanted to see Robert lose his inhibitions while in love, or at least a fair amount of fondness. In Scotland, he had seemed less restrained, but she hadn’t known him then as she knew him now. There was something about London, about the life he lived in Town that changed him, made him even less approachable, less likable. Perhaps it had to do with the memories of his father and the mantle of responsibility he now wore.
Fiona took off her robe and folded it over the back of the chair next to her bed. Merry had turned down the covers and Fiona slipped between the sheets, relaxing for the first time since waking this morning.
Last night had been her public debut, and her first public scandal. Tonight she had been the talk of the ball. Her new friends, Penny and Amanda, were shocked to see her out. They presumed she would have stayed away from Society after such an incident. Fiona couldn’t understand why. She had done nothing wrong. Stockton had received his comeuppance. Why shouldn’t she be seen? She was no simpish miss, prone to attacks of hysteria. She was a Scot, a Highlander, daughter of the Laird Kintyre. Fiona was only disappointed she had not gotten to plant her own facer on Stockton’s cheek.
Fiona heard heavy footfalls on the stairs just as she was about to blow out the candle. She sat up and drew the covers to her chest. Surely, Robert had not come home. She glanced at the little clock. Only half-twelve.
Robert strode into her room looking as dark as the Devil himself.
“What do you think you are doing?” he growled.
“I had planned on sleeping,” she said quietly.
“You left the ball, with no notice to me.”
“Your mother said she would tell you I had a headache and was going home.”
“Well, she did not.” Robert began to pace. “I have been searching for you for an hour. I thought you would want to waltz before supper.”
“Forgive me. I had no idea you wished to waltz. You left me in Davingdale’s capable hands. How could I know you would care to look for me?” she asked tersely.
“After what happened last night, Fiona, I had no idea what anyone was capable of, least of all you. When I could not find you I thought someone else had gotten the idea he could steal a kiss on the terrace, or worse.”
“Forgive me, my lord, for worrying you. I presumed your mother had informed you of my departure. I should also like to point out that I only need to be taught a thing once. I never forget a lesson learned.”
“Stop addressing me as my lord, damn it! My name is Robert and you will remember it!”
Fiona recoiled at the vehemence in his tone. Something was not right. Robert was too upset, too emotional over a little thing like her leaving a ball. Wound tighter than a string on a warped Stradivarius, she watched as any moment he might snap.
“Forgive me. Robert.” She watched him still pace, his breathing heavy as if he were carrying a great weight. “What is wrong?”
He stopped and stared at her. “I told you. I am upset by your leaving. I am upset because I thought something may have happened to you.”
“No, there is something more. My leaving may have been the impetus for this upheaval, but not the reason. I am your wife, if you would recall. It is my duty to carry your secrets if you should wish to tell them.”
Fiona was quite prepared for anything he might say. She was not, however, prepared for what he might do.
Robert walked to the bed and sat down on the edge. Pulling her up from the coverings, he wound one arm around her back and his other hand cupped her cheek. His mouth then descended on hers with a passion she had never known, a possession she had never felt. She had no recourse other than to kiss him back.
He pulled her closer, the arm behind her back tightening, as if somehow he was afraid she would run away. His lips tasted like brandy and cigar. He wound his hand through her hair, his tongue sliding down her neck, his voice whispering in her ear, “You are mine.” He brought his lips to hers again, his tongue finding hers in a dizzying dance. His hold on her changed, his hand cupped her breast, sending molten lava to her core.
She pushed against his chest trying to unfasten the buttons on his coat. She needed to touch his skin, to feel his body against hers. “Robert, please.” He didn’t seem to hear her. His mouth found her breast through her nightgown and the sensation made her fall back on the pillows. The fire she had felt last night in his arms returned.
“You are mine,” he murmured. “Never forget that.”
His mouth sought hers again, plundering for something she didn’t know how to give. “Take off your coat,” she whispered.
As he thrashed to take off the offending garment, Fiona sat up to help, and his elbow caught her squarely on the cheek right below her eye. “Ah!” she yelled and brought her hands up to her face. Bright stars danced before her eyes, and tears flowed unbidden.
“Oh my God, Fiona, are you all right?” Robert threw his jacket to the floor. “Forgive me, Fiona. Please.” He slowly took her hands away from her face and his eyes widened. “Fiona, I’m so sorry.” He gently pushed her down on the pillows. “Lay there, I shall return in a moment. We must get ice on that right away.”
Fiona blinked. The stars faded, although she could barely keep the eye open. She worried for a moment if she would be blind. Could a misplaced elbow cause such damage?
Robert brought ice chips wrapped in flannelling and bade her keep them on her cheek. He brushed her hair back from her forehead and apologized once again.
“’Twas an accident,” Fiona tried to reassure him.
“I’m usually not so clumsy when making love,” he said.
“There is a first time for everything, my lord.” She smiled weakly.
A frown appeared on his face. She brought her hand up and caressed his cheek. “Forgive me, Robert. ‘Twas just an accident.”
Robert stood up from the bed. “I should let you get your rest now. Do you have a headache? Would you like me to bring you a remedy from Cook’s cupboard?” He turned to go.
“No, the ice is fine for now. Thank you.”
Halfway to the door that separated their rooms he turned around and came back to the bed. He brought her fingers to his lips. “Are you sure there is nothing I may bring you?”
“No, thank you. The ice is all I need for now.”
“Well, I shall let you take your rest. Good night, Fiona. I shall see you in the morning.”
Fiona lay there with the ice on her face and watched him go. “One day,” she said to the closed door. “One day we shall finish this.”
*****
Robert closed his bedroom door. Of all the cock-ups to be made! But perhaps it was just as well. Beddin
g Fiona this night had not been his plan, but the urge to claim her as his overwhelmed him. Watching her dance with a smile in everyone else’s arms but his had apparently driven him over the edge.
Thankfully, he would be leaving in two days and the respite from her would allow him to regain his perspective.
Chapter Fifteen
Fiona awoke the next morning to a strangled cry from Merry.
“Oh, your ladyship, what happened to you?” The girl dropped the tray with her hot chocolate on the bed table with a bang, and hovered over Fiona staring at her face.
“What is it?” Fiona asked still half asleep.
“Your eye,” Merry said pointing.
Fiona pushed the covers aside and walked to her dressing table. Picking up the hand mirror, she turned toward the light from the open-curtained window. The left side of her face was a massive swollen bruise. Red, purple and grotesque, Fiona crumpled to the chair. Her eye was nearly closed with a dark ring underneath. Oh God, what had Robert done? How was she going to explain this?
“What happened, your ladyship?” Merry’s eyes were wide.
“I had an accident after the Duke of Hemmings ball. I fell and hit my cheek. ‘Tis nothing to worry about. Now help me dress if you please, I need to see my husband before he disappears for the day.”
Fiona dressed quickly and walked to the door that separated their rooms. She strode through the sitting room to her husband’s chamber and knocked. There was no answer. She returned to her room and wrote a note to Robert. She gave it to Merry and told her to find Robert as fast as she could, and then Edwards, if Robert was not about.
Fiona paced while she waited. Less than five minutes later, Robert knocked and entered her room.
“Oh, bloody hell, just as I thought,” he said when he saw her face. He turned her toward the sunlight and brushed the hair back from her face. “Fiona, I cannot tell you how sorry I am.”
The Duke's Divorce (The Reluctant Grooms Series Volume IV) Page 11
