The Gilded Web

by Mary Balogh

  “Well,” he said, fingering the folds of his neckcloth, “that is something at least, I suppose. But I had hoped to be taken more seriously as a suitor. I will not give up this easily, you know.”

  “You will have to.” She reached across and patted him briefly on the arm. “But I do appreciate the manner in which you have tried to make me feel wanted, as well as the concern you have shown for your brother. Perhaps I can ease your conscience. It is not on account of your inadvertent kidnapping of me that I have accepted Lord Amberley. Not at all. It is rather on account of the unfortunate way in which he chose to rescue me from embarrassment at Lady Sharp’s. You are not to blame for this forced marriage, you see.”

  He smiled ruefully. “I do not know why you are so kind to me, Miss Purnell,” he said. “In your place, I think I would hate me. But I cannot so easily put my conscience to rest. I will not deny that Edmund’s happiness is important to me. But so is yours, you see. And I have certainly destroyed that. I have heard what Peterleigh did at Lady Sharp’s, and I would dearly love to call him out, except that I have the feeling he would look down his nose at me as if I were a worm beneath his boot or—worse—a child fresh from the nursery, and refuse to come. But I will slap a glove in his face if you wish.”

  “I think the Duke of Peterleigh is best ignored,” she said firmly. “But thank you. Are we to go down this path again, my lord? I believe it is the fifth time.”

  “Good Lord, is it?” he said. “I was just congratulating myself on having found a new thoroughfare that I had not seen before.”

  They both laughed.

  “Edmund is giving a garden party next week,” he said. “Mama is afraid that many people will not come on such short notice, but I will wager that there will be an admirable squeeze.”

  “Oh, dear,” she said. “It was to escape a squeeze that I went outdoors alone at the Easton ball.”

  LORD EDEN PROVED CORRECT ABOUT the garden party. It was true that the invited guests had been given but little notice of the event—less than a week at a time of the year when every day presented them with a dozen entertainments among which to choose. But the prospect of attending such a betrothal party proved irresistible. Lord Amberley was one of the most eligible bachelors in town and had been the object of many a matchmaking mama’s matrimonial hopes for several years past.

  And Alexandra, of course, was the object of much curiosity. Despite the story that had been circulated, many wondered if it was likely that she had been abducted unwillingly by Lord Eden. The story of his having tried to kidnap his sister seemed somewhat difficult to believe when one thought about it. But why was it that it was the elder brother rather than Lord Eden who was to marry her? The whole scandalous episode was quite deliciously intriguing.

  And so the vast majority of those invited and a few besides arrived at the Earl of Amberley’s town house on a gloriously sunny and warm afternoon, which succeeded three days of clouds and chill and intermittent rain. Those who had not yet seen the newly betrothed pair together came in order to do so and judge for themselves whether it was a match of convenience or inconvenience. Others hoped to see Lord Eden present too and to observe for themselves whether he and Miss Purnell would exchange guilty looks or indeed any looks at all.

  Alexandra had not wanted the betrothal party. She had never enjoyed the squeezes of fashionable society—indeed, as she had told Lord Eden, it was her attempt to escape from one that had led to all her troubles. To be the center of attention at such a gathering was terrible indeed to her. Besides, she had not wanted her betrothal to be made so very public. Why pander to the expectations of a society she had come to despise?

  However, Lord Amberley had felt that it was necessary to make such a public gesture—to present to the beau monde his prospective bride and to announce thereby her respectability. He was careful to choose his mother, the Countess of Amberley, as his hostess for the afternoon. And, as he had explained to Alexandra when he called at Curzon Street two days after their visit to the theater in order to take her to visit his mother, he wanted to show her off.

  “I want everyone to see you, Miss Purnell,” he had said, “and know what a very fortunate man I am.”

  Alexandra had made no protest. What was the point? She had agreed to this marriage. She must live by the consequences. But she felt the hypocrisy of it all.

  Lord Beckworth too had considered some form of engagement party necessary. “We have all been brought considerable shame by your careless and scandalous behavior, Alexandra,” he had said. “Everyone has been apprised of the fact that we are no longer good enough for the Duke of Peterleigh. And if you now marry the Earl of Amberley quietly and creep away to his estate in the country, how is everyone to know that there was not real substance to your disgrace? How is everyone to know that you are not with child?”

  Alexandra had gaped and flushed painfully, swallowed the words that had leapt to her lips, and lowered her eyes. Her mother had shifted uncomfortably in her chair and coughed behind her hand. James had not been present at the time.

  “We will all attend this garden party, Alexandra, and you will behave with pride and decorum,” her father had continued. “You will spend the whole of the day before it and the morning of it alone in your room preparing your mind.”

  And so she had had no real choice, she reflected as she stood in the receiving line with Lord Amberley on one side of her and his mother on the other. She was one-and-twenty years old, she was engaged to be married, and she was caught utterly in the unenviable position of owing obedience to two men. Lord Amberley had said he would never insist that she obey him. And yet when he had decided upon something as he had now, she had had no power to resist. Perhaps she was being a little unfair. Had she said to him in so many words that she did not want this garden party, perhaps he would not have insisted. Perhaps he did not realize just how abhorrent to her such a public display was.

  “I think we have stood here long enough,” he said at last, looking down at her with those smiling blue eyes that she always found so disconcerting. “Will you take my arm, my dear, and we will mingle with our guests?”

  He also had a habit that she was still not used to of covering her hand with his as it rested on his arm and caressing her fingers. Alexandra did not believe he meant any familiarity—the gesture seemed almost absentminded. But she did not like it nonetheless. She felt uncomfortable waves of sensation sizzling up her arm and into her breasts when he did so, and she became more than ever aware of his physical presence. She became breathless and quite unable to relax or to concentrate on what was happening outside her own body. She felt out of control again.

  “Shall we talk to my aunt and uncle?” he asked. “They are almost my closest neighbors at Amberley. We will be seeing a great deal of them during the summer, I daresay.”

  “I would like that, my lord,” she said. Relatives of his, neighbors, people she would meet frequently when she went into the country with him. The whole situation was taking on an appalling reality. “I have not met them before this afternoon.”

  She was not sure for the following half-hour whether she was comforted or further dismayed by the friendliness of Lord Amberley’s Aunt Viola and Uncle William Carrington.

  “It is time Edmund settled down,” her uncle said to Alexandra, his eyes twinkling. “Our Walter will be twenty next spring, and of course young Dominic is of age already. But how can we expect any young lady to take them seriously when the greater prize is still unattached? You are doing our family a great favor, Miss Purnell.”

  “Gracious, William!” his wife scolded. “One would think that Walter and Dominic were in danger of going through life in bachelor solitude. They are mere babes yet.”

  “I wonder if mothers ever admit that their sons are grown up,” Mr. Carrington said, smiling at Alexandra. “So, my dear, Edmund is bringing you into the country for the summer, is he? You will like Amberley Court. One of the loveliest estates in all England, I daresay. My sister certainly had
an eye to what was good for her when she married Amberley. Edmund’s father, that is.” He laughed heartily.

  “William!” his wife said. “You know very well theirs was a love match pure and simple. Take no notice of him, Miss Purnell. He is such a tease. One never knows when to take him seriously. We brought Anna with us, Edmund. I hope you do not mind. She is only fifteen, and some would say that she should not be allowed at a function such as this at her age. But she begged and begged until William said she might come. He never could say no to Anna.”

  “I am delighted to see her again,” Lord Amberley said. “I see that she has discovered Dominic.”

  “I told her that she was to curtsy to him as to you and leave him to his adult companions,” his aunt said, staring across the garden to her daughter and Lord Eden. “I might as well have saved my breath to cool my tea with.”

  Lord Amberley grinned down at Alexandra. “Anna has had a grand passion for Dominic since she was ten years old,” he said. “She swears that she is going to marry him one day.”

  “I have already warned him that I cannot spare him my little girl to carry off to Wiltshire,” Mr. Carrington said with a chuckle. “Anna will have to marry one of the Courtney boys.”

  “William!” his wife said. “The very idea. One of the Courtney boys! Besides, Miss Purnell, there is no question of Anna’s marrying Dominic. He is her first cousin. It is just a stubborn case of hero worship. You will be thinking this whole family quite mad.”

  “On the contrary,” Alexandra said quietly. “I have been realizing how pleasant it must be to have several close relatives living nearby. I have had only Mama and Papa and my brother James all my life.”

  “After a year married to Edmund,” Uncle William said, “you will probably be wishing that you still had just your mama and papa and your brother close by, Miss Purnell. You will have Anna and Walter and Madeline and Dominic to plague the life out of you. Not to mention all the Courtneys.”

  “And not to mention you, William!” his wife retorted. “Take no notice of him, Miss Purnell. You will be very happy with Edmund, I am sure, my dear, and we will be very happy to have a new young countess at Amberley.”

  Alexandra would have smiled if she had not at that moment felt Lord Amberley’s hand on hers and looked up to see his blue eyes smiling at her.

  “I have scarcely had a chance to talk to Lord and Lady Beckworth this afternoon,” he said. “Shall we go and find them, my dear?”

  “Yes,” she said. “They are with your mother and Sir Cedric Harvey.” She turned to smile at Mr. and Mrs. Carrington, whom she liked a great deal despite the fact that they seemed to inhabit a different world from the one she had been brought up in.

  “They have the biggest hearts of almost anyone I have known,” Lord Amberley said as they moved away. “Are you comfortable, Miss Purnell? I know it took a great deal of courage for you to come this afternoon. But I am glad that you did. I am very proud to have all these people see me with you.”

  He curled his fingers beneath hers and squeezed her hand. This time that strange sizzling sensation began in her throat and spiraled downward into her stomach.

  “YOU REALLY WILL COME TOMORROW to take me to the Tower, Dominic?” the thin young girl clinging to his arm was saying. “Promise?”

  “I have said I will, haven’t I?” he said, smiling affectionately at her. “You have grown, Anna. At this rate, you may even reach my shoulder before another year has passed.”

  “I really do not mind if I never do, Dominic,” she said. “You are so tall. But I wish I would not merely grow upward.” She sighed. “I wish I looked more like Madeline. Or Miss Purnell.”

  “You will, Anna,” he said kindly. “By the time you make your come-out, you will take the ton by storm.”

  “Do you really think so?” she asked. “Really, Dominic? And will you be there to see it? I would like you to lead me into the very first set at my very first ball.”

  “By that time I will look old and decrepit to you,” he said with a grin. “You will want someone younger and altogether more dashing, Anna.”

  “No, I won’t,” she said. “You know I won’t. Do you think Miss Purnell beautiful, Dominic? I do, though Walter says she is too serious.”

  “I agree with you,” he said. “And she is not always so serious. She is doubtless nervous this afternoon. And who would not be at her own betrothal party? I think you will like her when you get to know her.”

  “Yes,” she said. “I am glad she is to marry Edmund. I like Edmund, though he is not nearly so handsome as you, Dominic. Or so tall.”

  He grinned. “I am going to return you to your mama,” he said. “I see some friends of mine that I should pay my respects to.”

  “And you would not want them to see you with a fifteen-year-old cousin,” she said with a sigh of resignation. “All right, Dominic. But I will grow up, I promise you.”

  He laughed. The party was even more of a squeeze than he had anticipated. His thoughts had taken a decidedly gloomy turn, and he needed the company of his friends to cheer him. The betrothal of Edmund and Miss Purnell was now very formal and very public. He could not possibly break it up without sacrificing all his honor.

  He shrugged as he turned away from Anna and his aunt and uncle and crossed the lawn to a group of his acquaintances. The summer in the country would present him with a wholly new opportunity to see what could be accomplished.

  MADELINE WAS SITTING IN THE CONSERVATORY at Amberley Court, her fingers absently playing with the velvety leaf of a pink geranium plant. She was staring gloomily out through the large windows onto a rain-soaked lawn. Her twin looked equally dejected, one booted foot resting on the window seat that extended around three sides of the room. His elbow was propped on his knee, his chin in his hand.

  “It is not so much the rain,” Madeline said. “Indeed, it is sometimes quite enjoyable to tramp along the clifftop or down on the beach with rain and wind lashing against one’s face and hair. It is being home again, I suppose, after living for more than a month without a moment to spare for thought. The change of pace is too drastic.”

  “Elsewhere always seems so much preferable to right here,” Lord Eden said without looking around. “Do you know what I mean, Mad? When I am in Wiltshire, I think I am living in the middle of nowhere, and I long to be here. When I am here, I fret for more social activity and hanker for a journey to London. And when I am in London, I tire of the shallowness and the tedium of it all and want to be somewhere else again. Is there something wrong with me?”

  “It is not that I do not want to be here,” Madeline said. “It is in the country that I am happiest. Perhaps if I never left here, I would not feel dissatisfied at all. But there is always the lure of the Season. Is there something wrong with me, Dom, that I still have not found myself a husband?”

  He looked around at her. “I don’t think so,” he said. “In fact, I think you occasionally show some good sense, Mad. All the gentlemen who have shown interest in you for the last four years are nothing but loose screws, the lot of them, if you ask me. It does you credit that you have not married any of them.”

  “Oh, Dom!” she cried, showing the first spark of spirit in an hour. “What a lowering thing to say. It implies dreadful things about my charms if I cannot attract a worthy suitor.”

  “I thought you were keen on Peignton,” he said. “What happened? Or should I ask, what did not happen?”

  “He kissed me,” she said, “at Edmund’s garden party. It was most improper, Dom. He took me behind the summerhouse into the trees. I knew what he was going to do, of course, and I must confess I did not do much to dissuade him. He is exceedingly handsome, you must admit. Then he murmured something about having to talk to Edmund to discuss a settlement.”

  “A settlement?” Lord Eden said. “Nothing about undying love, Mad? No proposal?”

  “No, nothing,” she said. “I think he took for granted that I would marry him. He had good reason to, I suppose. I th
ought I would too.”

  “Well?” Lord Eden looked with some impatience at his twin, who was frowning at the tiled floor.

  “I said no, I did not think that would be a good idea,” Madeline said, looking up. “And I really did not think so. I did not want to marry him at all. I do not know what will become of me, Dom. That was the best offer I have ever had. And I really thought I loved him. I am two-and-twenty already. That is positively old. I cannot possibly appear next year for yet another Season.”

  “Peignton is all looks and surface charm,” her brother said. “He is no great loss, Mad. Someday the right gentleman will come along, and you will live happily ever after. Why did you lose interest in Peignton, anyway? Isn’t he a good kisser?”

  “Yes, he is altogether too good,” Madeline said. “I am not sure he has any business kissing ladies that way. He quite put me to the blush. But all the time it was happening, instead of just blanking my mind and enjoying it, I was remembering how he was so solicitous of my reputation at Lady Sharp’s, wanting to take me to Mama so that I would not be contaminated by being in the same room as Miss Purnell. And he was so careful to avoid me for the rest of that evening after I had gone to talk to her. By the next day, of course, it was unexceptionable to consort with me again; Miss Purnell had made herself respectable by engaging herself to Edmund.”

  Lord Eden sat down beside his sister and crossed one ankle over the other knee. “She should be here soon,” he said, “if the rain has not completely halted them on the road. You will help me, Mad?”

  Madeline released her hold on the leaf and turned to look up at him. “I really don’t think I ought,” she said. “It would be far better to leave matters as they are, Dom. Edmund is betrothed to her, and he does not seem unduly unhappy about the idea. He will make the best of the marriage. Edmund is always so excessively kind to other people. Miss Purnell cannot help but like him and respect him.”