Bedazzled

by Bertrice Small

  “I will marry the man I love!” India snapped.

  “Don’t be such a fool, India!” Fortune snapped back.

  “You will not tell Mama and Papa that I overheard them?” came India’s reply.

  “Of course not,” Fortune said. “It’s months away.” Then she grew thoughtful. “I wonder what he will be like. I shall enjoy having my own home, although I shall miss the family. We will all be scattered now, won’t we?” Fortune was a practical girl, if a bit wild.

  India was no longer listening to her sister, however. She somehow had to find Adrian, and tell him of these latest developments that threatened to part them. He would know what to do. Leaving Fortune, she hurried back downstairs to the writing room, penning a message to Viscount Twyford, and then, sealing it with wax, she pressed her signet ring hard into the soft substance. Slipping from the room, she let herself out into the garden and ran down the lawns to the riverside.

  “Oi!” she called to a passing wrerryman, who, seeing her wave and hearing her call, rowed over to the Greenwood quai.

  “Aye, lady? Where does ye want to go?”

  India handed him the packet, along with a coin. “Take this to Whitehall. Give it to the royal boatmaster and tell him it is to be delivered immediately to Viscount Twyford, the earl of Oxton’s heir. You’re to wait for him. Do you understand? You are to bring Viscount Twyford back here.”

  The werryman felt the weight of the coin in his hand. He didn’t have to look at it to know it was double, probably triple, in legal fare. “Yes, m’lady,” he said, pulling at his forelock respectfully. Then, pushing cockle away from the quai, he rowed away. It never occurred to him to keep her coin, and throw the missive in the rapids beneath London Bridge, for he was an honest man. Besides, the gentry had a way of repaying dishonesty.

  India watched him go, relieved. It was going to be all right. She and Adrian would figure out what to do together. Picking up her skirts, she hurried back up to the house, realizing as she ran that she was cold. In her haste she had forgotten her cape, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but her future with Adrian Leigh.

  Chapter 4

  Greenwood House was silent at the midnight hour when India heard the rattle of pebbles at her window. Slipping from the bed she shared with Fortune, she hurried across the chilly floor, and, swinging the casement open, peered out. Seeing Adrian Leigh standing in the moonlight, she called softly to him, “I will come down.” Then, pulling the window shut, she caught up her cape and headed toward the bedroom door. Fortune murmured softly and turned in the bed, stopping her sister for a moment to make certain that her sibling was not awakening. Satisfied she slept, India eased herself through the door, and, pulling her cloak about her, ran quickly down the staircase, through the hallway, and into the library. Pushing open one of the large windows, she summoned her swain to her.

  “Adrian! Here!” She beckoned to the shadowy figure.

  The viscount climbed through the open window, drawing it shut behind him. Then, pulling India into his arms, he kissed her.

  Startled, and breathless, she gently extracted herself from his embrace, laughing nervously. “Adrian! For shame! I have not asked you here for the purpose of dalliance.” She was flushed, and her heart was beating rather more quickly than before. He was so bold, she thought.

  “No, sweeting? I am disappointed,” he teased her. “Then, pray, m’lady, why have you summoned me?” He took up her hand and kissed the fingers on it.

  “Ohh, Adrian, I do not know what to do,” she cried softly, and did not protest when he pulled her back into his arms and began to stroke her dark hair.

  “What is it poppet?” he encouraged her. “Tell me, and I will endeavor to make it better.” He kissed the top of her head. She was so trusting and sweet and rich. He knew she was his for the taking.

  “We will be returning home next week. Papa says since I will not choose a suitable man to marry, then he and Mama must pick a match for me. But I don’t want to marry some stranger! Oh, what are we to do, Adrian? They are going to separate us forever,” India sobbed softly. “If they take me home to Glenkirk, I will never see you again! Oh, I know it is bold of me to say it, but I couldn’t bear it if we were parted from one another! I will die. I know I will.”

  “I cannot let you do that,” he said as softly, thinking that his soon-to-be father-in-law had just provided him with the very opportunity he required to steal Lady India Lindley away from her overly protective family. When his mother had suggested it, he hadn’t thought it would be this easy.

  “But Adrian!” She gazed up into his face, and he thought she was really quite beautiful. “What can we do?”

  “Your father has left us with no choice, my darling,” he told her in a calm and most sensible voice. “We must run away and get married before they can take you back to Scotland, India.”

  Now she looked up at him, and found herself very torn. He was so handsome with his long, straight nose, and his silky blond hair. His sapphire-blue eyes seemed to look at her with such love and devotion. “Ohhh, Adrian! I do not know. It seems so impetuous a thing to do.”

  “Ah, India! Do you not love me?” he asked her in a hurt tone.

  “Oh, yes, Adrian! I do love you!” Then she blushed furiously, for she had never said such a thing to him before.

  “And I love you, my darling,” he quickly reassured her, knowing such a declaration from her lips required a similar devotion on his part.

  “But I love my family, too,” she said, worrying her lower lip with her top teeth in her concern.

  “You do not have to stop loving them, my darling, just because you love me,” he told her, “but is it really just of them to keep us apart when we love each other? I know that my mother and my half-brother have brought shame upon the Leighs of Oxton Court, but I am my father’s son first and foremost, India. We are an old and noble family. Is it fair of your father to hold me responsible for Deverall and Mama’s bad behavior? I think the duke of Glenkirk a better man than that, my love. Still, he is a father protecting a beloved daughter, and I do understand how he feels even if I think him wrong. If we are married, then you and I settle the entire matter by controlling our own destiny. I know our actions will anger your parents at first, but when they see how happy we are, they will forgive us. I know it.”

  “But where could we go, Adrian, that they would not follow?” India asked, snuggling against him. She felt so safe now.

  “We must leave the country,” he ventured, waiting to see what India’s reaction would be to that.

  “Leave the country?” She was more than startled by his suggestion.

  “There is no other option, India. Where can we hide in England, my love? Your family is large, and scattered all about the whole country. And we certainly cannot go north, can we?” He chuckled, and kissed her on the tip of her nose.

  “We cannot go to France, either,” she informed him, joining in with his train of thought. “We have family there.”

  “We could go to Naples,” he suggested.

  “Naples? Why Naples, Adrian?” His hand was caressing her back now, and it was really quite pleasant.

  “My uncle, the Conde di Carlo, lives in Naples,” he said. “We could go to him, and be married there. Then we could remain with my uncle until we had our first child. If we returned home with our son, your father could not annul our union, sweeting.”

  “My father’s mother lives in Naples,” India said. “Lady Stewart-Hepburn. Papa’s sister is the marchesa di San Ridolfi. What if we ran into them, Adrian? Then Papa would know where we were!”

  “We will be wed privately, my love, and remain safely within the walls of my uncle’s estate. Have you ever met these ladies, India?”

  “My stepgrandmama, last summer in France, but not the marchesa,” she answered him. A wave of doubt washed over her. It seemed so rash an action to take, running away and marrying.

  “Perhaps you do not love me enough, India, to dare such a bold course,” he
subtly taunted her, seeing the indecision on her face.

  “Ohh, but I do!” she cried.

  “No, I think not,” he replied sorrowfully, goading her further.

  “But I do, Adrian! I swear I do!” India insisted.

  “Then say you will pledge yourself body and soul to me as my wife, sweetheart,” he said, his voice holding just a hint of pleading. “Say you will marry me and be my wife and bear my children! Say it!” But before she might speak, he was kissing her passionately, his lips hot and hungry upon hers; the hand that had been caressing her back was now sliding beneath her cloak, moving to caress her bosom lightly.

  India’s head was spinning with delight. Her lips parted slightly beneath his, and she drew her perfumed breath into her own mouth. When his hand slipped into her nightgown bodice to cup a single breast, she gasped with surprise. No one had ever touched her breasts before! The warmth of his palm was intoxicating, and when his thumb and his forefinger gently pinched her thrusting nipple, she almost swooned, falling back against his arm with a soft moan of distinct pleasure. If this was love, it was wonderful!

  Lifting his head from her, he begged, “Say you will marry me, my darling. Can you not sense how I long for you? How much I love you, my precious India? Say it! Say it, or I will fling myself into the river this very night, for I cannot live without you!”

  “Yes. Oh, yes,” she breathed.

  Immediately he removed his hand, dipping his head to kiss the swell of her bosom over her gown. “Your virtue is a precious jewel to me, my love,” he told her solemnly. “I must cease our loveplay lest I lose control of my passions and shame us both. We have a lifetime before us in which we may pleasure each other, but not until we have married.”

  “Oh, Adrian, I do love you!” she told him, wishing he were not quite so noble at this moment in time. She had liked his caress, and his kisses. Her entire body seemed more alive now than it had ever been, but the wet stickiness between her legs in that secret place was confusing. She didn’t know what it was, and she certainly couldn’t ask Mama now.

  “Do you know exactly what day your family plans to depart for Scotland?” he asked her in practical tones. “I must find a ship sailing for Naples. I suspect we do not have much time.”

  “In three or four days’ time at the most,” India replied. “He has not given the order for our possessions to be packed up yet.”

  “I will go to the docks in the morning and find us a vessel,” he told her. “There will be someone sailing for the Mediterranean soon.”

  “Go to the O‘Malley-Small Trading Company docks,” India advised. “I will not sail on any other ship but one of theirs. If we trust ourselves to strangers, we could end up murdered for our possessions and thrown overboard, Adrian. Sea travel can be dangerous, but the O’Malley-Small ships belong to my family, and we will be safe.”

  “But will these people not recognize you, India?”

  “Not if I board the ship in disguise, Adrian,” she told him, feeling quite clever. “You shall be a son of the conde di Carlo, and I your elderly great-aunt, Lady Monypenny, newly widowed and childless, returning home to Naples, my girlhood home, after many years, in order to die. You have been sent by your father, my nephew, to escort me. This will allow us to purchase two cabins without arousing suspicion. I shall keep to my cabin during the voyage so my disguise may not be penetrated by anyone else on board. Am I not cunning, my sweet lord?” She grinned mischievously at him.

  “Indeed,” he agreed, a bit surprised by her resourcefulness. Perhaps India’s mind was a little too skillful at deception, he considered, but then he remembered how rich she was, and how beautiful, and how well she had responded to his roving hands. She was tamable. All women were tamable under the right circumstances, and he would not be a harsh master.

  “You must go now,” she told him. “Come tomorrow night, and use the same signal to call me. Our plans must be finalized by then.”

  Giving India a quick kiss, the viscount opened the casement window and stepped through it into the night. “Until tomorrow, my love,” he told her, and then he was gone into the darkness.

  India sighed as she latched the window shut. He was so wonderful, her Adrian, and soon they would be man and wife. How sensitive he was! Not only did he sympathize with Papa, who was being totally unreasonable and difficult, but his carefulness and concern for her person and her innocence showed her that he was a man of excellent character. Her parents were wrong about Adrian. He was the perfect man for her. Leaving the library, she crept back up the staircase to her bedchamber, and slipped easily into bed next to her sister, who was now snoring. She thought she would be too excited to sleep remembering the events of the last hour, but India was soon slumbering as heavily as Fortune.

  In the morning she feigned a headache, and kept to her bed until half the morning had gone by, sipping smoky black tea that her mother had brought her to ease the alleged throbbing in her temples.

  “We thought we might spend the afternoon at court,” Jasmine told her daughter. “Do you feel well enough to come?”

  India sighed deeply. “I think not, Mama,” she said. “The pain is easing, but a trip upon the cold and damp river will but bring it back. We are not leaving London tomorrow, are we? I will get another chance to bid their majesties farewell, won’t I?”

  “Your father has decided we will depart on Tuesday,” the duchess told her daughter. “It is only Saturday. You will have the opportunity to say good-bye to the king and queen, India.”

  “Then I think I shall remain within the house today,” India replied. “I should be fine by the morrow.”

  “Would you mind if we went to Whitehall?” Jasmine asked. “Henry and Charlie have already made some important contacts, and perhaps I shall find a lovely gentleman for you, my daughter.”

  India smiled wanly. “There is no one for me but Adrian, Mama.”

  “Oh, my darling girl,” Jasmine said, “you must put him from your mind. He is entirely unsuitable, and your father will not hear of it. Jemmie has tried so hard to raise you as Rowan Lindley would have, India, and I know Rowan would agree with Jemmie about your viscount. Put it aside, my daughter, for you will not be happy until you do.”

  India sighed. “I will try, Mama,” she murmured.

  “That is all I ask of you for now,” Jasmine replied.

  When the Leslies had departed for Whitehall, taking Fortune with them as well, India arose and began to pack her own little trunks. Neither she nor Fortune had been allowed to bring servants on this trip. The house was quiet, and practically servantless, for the duke had not bothered to hire extra help on this visit, and only the small permanent staff that lived at Greenwood was in residence. There were five of them. The majordomo, the housekeeper, the laundress, the cook, and the stableman. India now took an armful of laundry to the laundress.

  “We are leaving on Tuesday,” she said. “I want to travel with clean undergarments, Dolly. Would you mind doing these today? I’m sure Mama and Fortune will want their things done, too, and this way we will not overburden you by piling everything on you at once.”

  “Of course, m’lady, and most kind of you,” the laundress answered.

  India hurried to the library, and, opening the false panel where her parents hid their valuables when they were in London, she put her hand into the dark cavity. The chamois bag of coins her father always took when they traveled was quite plump. The duke obviously had already been to the goldsmith’s bank in preparation for their return trip. India smiled to herself, and withdrew her hand, closing the panel. She fully intended taking that bag with her when she left with Adrian. It would be a down payment on her dowry. She would wager after he paid their fare he would have little left and be glad for her foresight. Her father’s gold would keep them quite comfortably for the next year. She returned to her own bedchamber.

  Her family had not returned by the midnight hour when Adrian Leigh once again tossed pebbles at her window. India flung open the casemen
t and, looking down, said, “You must be careful. My family have not yet returned from Whitehall, and will be coming by the river. What news, my darling lord? I dare not come down. I can see the river better from here, and you must be gone before they return.”

  “You were right, my clever poppet,” he told her. “The Royal Charles, the O’Malley-Small Trading Company’s newest cargo and passenger vessel, departs for the Mediterranean on the morning tide Monday, and it will stop at Naples. I have booked us two cabins as you instructed, and we must be aboard by five o’clock in the morning at the latest.”

  “Who is its captain?” she asked.

  “Thomas Southwood,” he replied.

  “My cousin,” she said thoughtfully. “But as he has not seen me in many years, I expect we will be safe. Especially as I shall be disguised as old Lady Monypenny. Come for me at four o’clock in the morning. I shall bring two small trunks and my jewelry, so do not come in a small werry. You have done admirably, my darling.” India blew him a kiss. “Go now before we are caught. I love you, Adrian!” She drew the window shut, her heart soaring. Just a few more days and they would make good their escape! She climbed into bed, and was already sleeping by the time her family returned home.

  The next day was Sunday, and they attended religious services at Whitehall Palace. The king preferred the more Catholic Anglican service despite the grumblings from the many Puritans in his court.

  “Go and have your own services then,” he ordered the more outspoken of them. “Do none of you remember that I am pledged to be as tolerant as I may? You do not like England’s church, and you do not like the queen’s faith. Go then, and hold your own candleless plain services with no outward show of faith but your droning voices.”