The Reluctant Marchioness

by Anne Ashley

  ‘I don’t believe he would have confided even in me if he hadn’t been so very concerned over your disappearance.’

  She appeared merely sceptical now, and he didn’t hesitate to assure her that this was true. ‘He’s not a man to wear his heart on his sleeve, Jenny. You above anyone should know that.’

  She chose not to respond to this. Theodore was Wroxam’s friend, perhaps his closest, and therefore it would be grossly unfair of her to cast aspersions on her husband’s character by blithely suggesting that she doubted very much whether his lordship possessed such a delicate organ as a heart. None the less, she could not resist saying, ‘I became aware very swiftly, after I had entered the polite world, that Society seemed surprisingly ignorant about our marriage, and I certainly felt grateful to Wroxam for not making my fall from grace common knowledge.’ A wry little smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. ‘I cannot help wondering, though, what has held him mute all these years. Was it an attempt to protect my fair name, or a determination to preserve his massive pride?’

  She could see at once that she had placed Theo in an embarrassing position. He was far too honest a person to rush to his friend’s defence, unless he was perfectly certain of Wroxam’s true motives, and it was quite obvious that he wasn’t sure.

  ‘But no more talk about Wroxam and me,’ she went on in an attempt to lessen his discomfiture. ‘What have you been doing with yourself? I seem to remember that you were not at all fond of taking part in the social whirl, and yet I find you here in London at the height of the Season.’

  This brought the cheery smile back to his homely face. ‘I very much enjoy the companionship of my friends in the relaxing atmosphere of my club, Jenny. It’s the ladies I’m not too comfortable with. Too big and too clumsy, that’s my trouble.’ He released his breath in a sigh which sounded distinctly mournful. ‘I’ll need to make the effort tonight. Promised I’d put in an appearance at my aunt’s ball. She’d be upset if I didn’t show my face.’

  ‘In that case, Theo, and providing you have made no prior arrangements, would you care to be my escort tonight? Your aunt, Lady Morland, very kindly sent me an invitation last week.’

  His response was too spontaneous not to be totally sincere. ‘Jenny, my dear girl, nothing would give me greater pleasure!’

  No one would have supposed for a moment that Mr Dent was in the least happy to be escorting Lady Wroxam when he arrived at Lady Morland’s house that night, for his face, as he entered the ballroom to greet his aunt, wore a very troubled frown.

  The same could not be said of his lovely companion. If she was experiencing any slight misgivings over coming face to face with her husband in public for the very first time, she certainly betrayed no sign of it. In fact, she appeared quite remarkably composed when Mr Dent escorted her down the length of the ballroom to sit beside the young lady who had become a particular favourite of hers in recent weeks.

  Formality having been dispensed with shortly after their first meeting, Serena did not hesitate, the instant Mr Dent had moved away, to apprise her charming new friend of the Marquis’s arrival a short time earlier. ‘I saw him entering the room about half an hour ago, Jenny. I believe he’s still in the room set out for cards.’

  ‘Yes, I was informed by both Lady Morland and her nephew that it was more than likely that he would be putting in an appearance tonight.’ She shrugged one slender shoulder, clearly revealing her complete indifference. ‘It was only to be expected that we should come into contact with each other on occasions whilst I remain in town, so I saw little reason in trying to avoid any encounter.’

  Jennifer looked about her with interest to see who else was present that evening. She had by this time grown quite accustomed to attracting a deal of attention wherever she went, and was not even faintly discomposed by the glances bent in her direction. A great number of those present were now known to her, but one man, whose leering gaze was more direct than most, she felt certain she had never seen before; felt certain too, after a second glance in his direction, that it was her friend who was the object of his interest.

  ‘Tell me, Serena, who is that unprepossessing, middle-aged individual in conversation with Lady Thessinger?’

  Miss Carstairs raised her short-sighted eyes to peer across the ballroom. ‘Lord Sloane. He has only recently arrived in town. Mama, I believe, knew him quite well years ago. He paid a visit to our house the other day, but I do not think Mama was pleased to see him. She seemed quite unlike herself after he had left.’

  ‘Cannot say that I’m unduly surprised. He looks to be a most unpleasant individual,’ Jennifer responded, smiling wickedly as her attention was swiftly captured by quite a different person. ‘And speaking of rather unpleasant fellows…’

  Serena, following the direction of her companion’s gaze, only just managed to suppress a gurgle of mirth, when her eyes eventually managed to focus on the gentleman heading in their direction. As Jennifer had never once spoken of her private affairs, Serena remained quite ignorant of precisely why the Wroxams’ marriage had failed. One thing she had become firmly convinced about, however, was that the charming Marchioness, unlike a great number of people, was not in the least in awe of her somewhat austere husband, as she proved by the quizzical raising of one finely arched brow when at last he stood before her.

  ‘Good evening, my lord,’ she greeted him politely, if with precious little warmth. ‘I had been informed that you were amongst the guests this evening.’ She glanced briefly in Serena’s direction. ‘I assume you are already acquainted with Miss Carstairs, as she too resides in Berkeley Square?’

  If his lordship had indeed been oblivious to Serena’s existence until that very moment, he at least possessed the innate good manners to disguise the fact, as he acknowledged her for the first time in her life with a slight bow and a semblance of a smile. ‘I hope you will forgive this intrusion, Miss Carstairs, and permit me to deprive you of your companion for a short while. I was hoping,’ he added, turning once again to Jennifer, with a flicker of a challenging gleam in his eyes, ‘to persuade her ladyship to partner me in the next dance.’

  Whether or not it was because those sitting and standing nearby were betraying a vulgar interest in the Marquis’s surprising display of attention, or the fact that she was determined to show one and all, including her husband, that she was not so faint-hearted as to turn her back on a challenge which prompted her graciously to accept the invitation, Jennifer was not perfectly sure. It was only when she permitted Wroxam to lead her on to the dance floor, and they took up their positions for the commencement of the waltz, that she began to experience serious doubts over the wisdom of her actions.

  The shapely masculine hand resting lightly on her waist evoked bittersweet memories, almost forgotten, of a time when she had welcomed that gentle touch, reminding her that the man she had married, although cold and unapproachable during the day, had been the most tender, considerate lover at night. Throughout their years apart she had never once sought masculine company above that of mere friendship; had never once even considered embarking on a more intimate relationship…until now. Although her mind might advocate the continuation of a chaste, uncomplicated lifestyle, her body, surprisingly reacting to that masculine touch, was urging behaviour of a totally different kind.

  Raising her eyes from the intricate folds of an expertly tied neck-cloth, she discovered her husband staring intently down at her, an expression on his face which might easily be taken for intense satisfaction. It was almost as if he sensed that she was appalled to discover that he still retained the power to arouse her traitorous body. Her resolve, however, remained unchanged. She was no longer a weak-willed girl, and had no intention of dropping her guard where this man was concerned. To do that could only lead to disaster.

  ‘I think, Wroxam, that it might be wise if we did not perform the entire dance in stony silence,’ she suggested, gratified to discover that her voice at least remained perfectly controlled, ‘otherwise people migh
t assume that you are already regretting your impulsiveness in asking me to stand up with you.’

  ‘I never behave impulsively, madam wife.’ His tone was clipped, as though he found the mere suggestion that he ever acted without due consideration insulting. He regarded her in silence for a moment, his expression quite unreadable. ‘Did you suppose that I intended to spend the whole evening ignoring you completely?’

  ‘Certainly not! You are far too well bred…Or perhaps far too discerning. You would not go out of your way to add to the gossip already surrounding us.’ She could not resist a smile of wry amusement. ‘Although I must confess that I didn’t expect quite such a marked show of attention.’

  Although he never attempted to respond, he didn’t appear wholly displeased by this display of candour on her part. ‘Do you realise, Wroxam, that this is the very first time we have ever danced together?’

  After expertly avoiding a collision with an energetic young couple, he shrugged one broad shoulder. ‘If you recall, madam, your father’s demise shortly after our marriage had taken place restricted our social activities. Besides which, I rarely dance.’

  ‘Really?’ She didn’t attempt to hide her surprise. ‘Why, then, have I been singularly honoured?’

  ‘Because I wished to speak with you, that is why, madam wife.’ He cast a faintly impatient glance about him. ‘I fear, however, that I miscalculated. There are far too many couples here for any degree of privacy.’

  Although he might be experiencing some slight irritation, Jennifer sensed that he was not totally regretting his request for her to stand up with him. For a tall and powerfully built man he danced with surprising grace. Reluctantly she was forced silently to concede that they danced well together, easily matching each other’s steps, moving in perfect harmony. How many of those avidly watching their every movement, she wondered, would believe that they had never danced together before?

  She raised her eyes to discover those dark brows once again meeting above the bridge of that long, aristocratic nose. Only this time his disapproving gaze was most definitely fixed in her direction. ‘I fear something about my person displeases you, my lord,’ she ventured.

  His frown grew slightly more pronounced. ‘I’m not displeased,’ he assured her, ‘merely curious. On the two occasions I have seen you thus far, you have been dressed in black. I cannot recall that there has been a recent death in your immediate family, so I can only assume that during our years apart you have acquired a penchant for decking yourself out in that particular colour.’

  ‘Widows are wont to dress in black, are they not?’ A definite glint, which in a child would have been taken for devilment, sprang into her eyes. ‘And you, my dear Wroxam, have been dead to me for years.’

  He found to his surprise that he felt more amused than annoyed by this deliberately provocative remark. ‘Baggage!’ he muttered, totally without rancour. ‘Nine years ago, madam wife, you would never have dreamt of uttering such a sally.’

  There was just a hint of wistfulness in the smile she cast up at him. ‘No, perhaps I would not,’ she agreed.

  The dance came to an end and she made to return to her seat, but Julian forestalled her by the simple expedient of placing a gently restraining hand on her arm. ‘If there is no urgency for you to return to Miss Carstairs, perhaps you would be kind enough to grant me a little more of your time?’

  Without waiting for a response, he guided her across the crowded ballroom and into the room set out for cards, where he quickly located a small table in one corner which suited his purposes admirably. ‘At least we may be granted a little privacy here,’ he remarked, after requesting a waiter to bring them wine.

  One finely arched brow rose. ‘Privacy, my dear Wroxam, is a luxury that both of us must be prepared to forgo whilst we remain in the capital.’

  ‘I very much fear you are correct, my dear.’ He reached for one of the glasses the waiter had just placed on the table, and stared at his undeniably lovely wife above its rim for a moment before sampling the contents. ‘So I shall not waste the precious time granted to us now, but will come straight to the point. Why did you feel the need to discompose poor Theo? I noticed he was quite unlike himself when he arrived.’

  For a moment she looked utterly bewildered, then suddenly gurgled with laughter, drawing the attention of the occupants of the tables nearby. ‘So he told you, did he?’

  ‘He told me nothing, except that you’d given him quite a turn during the carriage ride here.’ He reached for the pack of cards placed on the table. ‘Shall we play picquet for…say, a shilling a point?’

  Jennifer automatically picked up the cards he had dealt her. ‘I assure you, Wroxam, I would never deliberately upset Theo. However, when one is at a loss to know how to proceed in a matter of importance, one usually seeks advice. I now realise, of course, that I asked the wrong person entirely. It would have been wiser to have approached you.’ The impish glint was back in her eyes. ‘You, I suspect, are far more knowledgeable about such things, and are not so easily shocked.’

  He was swiftly coming to realise that his Marchioness had acquired a decidedly mischievous streak during their years apart. He felt certain that he was being extremely imprudent, but could not resist asking, ‘On what subject can I possibly advise you?’

  The devilish glint returned with a vengeance. ‘On how one should go about discovering the whereabouts of a whore.’

  His lordship paused in the act of raising his glass to his lips. ‘Well, I have only myself to blame, I suppose,’ he murmured. ‘I knew I was being singularly foolish to have enquired in the first place.’ He regarded the lovely smiling countenance in silence for a moment. ‘You are jesting, of course.’

  Having comprehensively won the first game, Jennifer reached for the pack and dealt two fresh hands. ‘On the contrary, I’m in deadly earnest. I wish to locate a particular female’s whereabouts in order to repay a debt of gratitude. She offered me sanctuary when I had nowhere else to go. Unfortunately she moved out of her rented accommodation some years ago, and those people living in the area do not seem to know what became of her, or simply aren’t saying.’ She took a moment to study the cards in her hand. ‘Would it be of any use, do you suppose, calling in the Bow Street Runners?’

  ‘I very much doubt it.’ Leaning back in his chair, he studied her once again, his lips faintly curled. ‘So, when your uncle refused to offer you help, you sought refuge with a whore.’

  The scathing note in his voice was not lost on her. ‘Highly appropriate in the circumstances, do you not think, a trollop offering sanctuary to another of her kind?’

  Although there was a noticeable tensing in the muscles about the square, powerful jaw, he made no attempt to respond, and after a moment she added, ‘In fact, it was the whore’s sister, Mary Harper, who came to my aid, Wroxam.’

  It took several moments before he realised to whom she was referring. ‘Your personal maid?’

  She nodded. ‘Mary, believing that her sister had been successful in finding herself a position as a domestic, came over from Ireland to try her luck. Of course she realised at once what her sister had become…had been forced to become in order to survive. With no references, poor Mary had no more luck in trying to attain a position than her sister had had the year before. It was while she was about the city, in a last vain attempt to find some respectable employment, and I was aimlessly wandering about, feeling lost, alone and utterly wretched, that our paths crossed.’

  ‘So why didn’t you simply ask your new-found friend to accompany you back to Somerset, if you were feeling so alone and afraid? I dare say she would have jumped at the chance. It may well have led to her acquiring a position in my household.’

  ‘You are jesting, of course!’ He found himself on the receiving end of an astonished glance. ‘You don’t imagine, surely, that I had the least intention of ever returning to Somerset to the house which had become a prison, where I had been forbidden to leave the grounds, forbidden to receive vi
sitors, where I had been expected tamely to await for the husband who despised me to return when it suited his purposes?’

  Her shout of laughter contained a reckless quality. ‘My dear Wroxam, naïve I may have been, but I was not completely stupid. Our marriage was at an end. You had made that perfectly clear by refusing to answer my letters, and refusing to see me. What choice had I but to make a new life for myself?’

  As had occurred increasingly of late, his conscience began to trouble him. The original blame for the break up of their marriage might rest squarely upon her beautiful shoulders, but he was forced to own that his subsequent actions could not withstand too close a scrutiny. She had been so very young at the time. Had he, perhaps, acted a little too harshly?

  No sooner had the thought entered his mind than he cursed himself silently for this momentary weakness. ‘So, you chose to sample the delights of a doxy’s abode in preference to the comfort and luxury to be enjoyed at Wroxam Park,’ he remarked, derision oozing from his every word. ‘How very singular!’

  Their eyes met and held above the table. ‘Your opinion of me, understandably, is not high, sir.’ Her voice, unlike his own, remained perfectly controlled, betraying not the smallest hint of emotion. ‘Nevertheless I do not suppose that your contempt is such that you truly imagine that I had any inclination, at the time, of precisely what profession Katherine Harper was engaged in. Had it not come on to rain that day, I doubt very much whether Mary would have invited me to accompany her back to her sister’s one-room hovel. When Katherine went out that night to walk the noisome streets in that area of the city, it never crossed my mind to suppose that she would be selling herself.’

  To his intense amazement he found himself believing her every word, though why this should be he had no notion. Was he just a gullible fool? he wondered. After all, she had deceived him in the most debased manner years before. In that first letter he had received from her, the only one he had ever troubled to read, she had sworn that she loved only him, and had been unfaithful only once. Understandably enough, he had chosen not to believe her. Besides which, he had considered what she was capable of doing once, she was more than capable of doing again. She simply couldn’t be trusted, then or now, and yet… She began speaking again, and he forced himself to listen.