To Protect An Heiress (Zebra Historical Romance)

by Adrienne Basso

  “Take this away, Higgins,” the duke commanded, thrusting the waded sheets toward a footman.

  “Oh, please, do not abandon your paper for me.”

  The duke eyed her suspiciously for a moment, as if testing her sincerity. He must have reasoned she meant what she said, for he slowly dropped the crumpled mess back onto the mahogany table.

  “There’s an announcement of your marriage in the society section,” he said wryly.

  Meredith nodded. She spread a thin, even layer of raspberry jam on her toast, then lifted her head. “Trevor must have instructed his secretary yesterday to make sure it was done. The marquess can be extremely efficient in certain matters.”

  “When it suits him,” the duke remarked with a frown.

  Meredith raised an eyebrow. She felt the duke’s keen gaze upon her. Sensing he was testing her, Meredith refused to rise to the bait. As much as she felt she needed an ally in this house, she was not about to take sides against her husband in the battle with his father.

  “Good morning.”

  Meredith looked up to see the marquess enter the room. He was dressed for riding, and the sheen of sweat upon his brow suggested he had already been out putting his mount through its paces. Meredith cautioned herself not to react. Though it was rather lowering for a bride to be left for a horse, it was even more disgraceful to let others know she was hurt.

  Trevor’s voice and manner were very matter-of-fact, but she could feel the highly coiled impatience in his body as he waved off the eager footman and went to the sideboard to serve himself some breakfast.

  “Ah, good morning, Trevor,” the duke called out. “I was just telling Meredith that I did not expect to see either of you today. Or tomorrow. ’Tis your honeymoon!”

  Meredith had no idea how these words affected her husband, for he concealed his reaction admirably. And he completely ignored his father’s comments.

  Trevor circled around the table to take the chair beside her. Meredith’s skin tingled when Trevor accidentally brushed against her back while taking his seat. Thinking it best not to meet his eyes, she kept her own firmly directed at her plate.

  “The butler has informed me that numerous invitations addressed to us have been received this morning,” the marquess said. “Have you had an opportunity to sort through them, Meredith?”

  Startled, she glanced up. “No. I have not even seen them.”

  The marquess impatiently drummed his fingers upon the table. “I already have plans for this evening that were made weeks before our sudden marriage. I suppose if there are events you wish to attend tonight, I can prevail upon Viscount Aarons or Mr. Doddson to escort you.”

  Meredith felt herself flushing, which she particularly hated doing in front of both her husband and father-in-law In an uncharacteristic fit of pique, she decided Lady Anne Smithe was probably never flustered or blushing around her male relations.

  “It is hardly necessary for you to fob me off on your friends, my lord. I assure you, I can take care of myself.”

  Trevor’s burning eyes suggested he was not pleased by her show of independence, but Meredith was beyond caring. He regarded her with a frown for what felt like an eternity, then finally said, “As you wish.”

  It was exactly the opposite of what Meredith wished, but she would cut her tongue out before saying so. The duke looked as if he were bursting to voice his opinion on the matter, but he must have understood the silent plea she cast his way, because he remained quiet.

  Trevor’s rejection stung. Yet if the marquess did not want her to be a part of his life, she would not beg for his attention or even demand it. Years of observing males had taught Meredith one very important lesson. Most of them did not react well to being prodded or nagged.

  Conversation among them resumed. As befitting the members of a civilized society, they spoke of inconsequential matters in modulated tones, though the tension was thick and oppressive.

  When the pile of food from Trevor’s plate had disappeared completely, he rose. “I wish you both a pleasant day. And evening.” He inclined his head and stepped away from the table.

  Not trusting her voice, Meredith merely nodded her head. Though she wanted nothing more than to retreat to the privacy of her chambers, she sat and sipped her tea.

  “It would seem to me your new husband is not all that interested in spending time in your company.” The duke brushed his linen napkin fleetingly across his mouth. “What are going to do about it?”

  I do not know! Those desperate words rattled around in Meredith’s mind, but she refrained from speaking them. It made her feel weak to admit she was so easily defeated. “ ’Tis the fashion for couples to lead separate, independent lives.”

  “A day after they are married?” The duke snorted. “So that’s what you are going to do? Close your eyes, grit your teeth, and grimly endure?”

  Meredith bit her bottom lip until she tasted blood. “Those who want to survive must learn to adapt, Your Grace.”

  “What nonsense,” the duke scoffed. “I thought you had more backbone than that, young lady.”

  Meredith’s nostrils flared with indignation. “If memory serves me, there will be an operatic performance of Don Giovanni at the Haymarket this evening. I presume you have a box at the theater?”

  “Of course I have a box.” The duke frowned. “Haven’t used it in years, though.”

  “That hardly matters. Do you like opera, Your Grace?”

  “I never took to it. And I could never understand how a bunch of men and women prancing around on a stage, screeching and carrying on, making enough noise to wake the dead was considered entertaining.”

  “Opera is a pure expression of music and emotion,” Meredith insisted, though secretly she thought the duke’s description had merit. “More importantly, half the ton will be in attendance, ogling each other rather than looking at the stage or listening to the singers. Since I find myself free for the evening, you may accompany me to the performance.”

  The duke’s eyes darted to the footman who was clearing the table, then returned to Meredith. “I just told you I cannot abide all that noise they make.”

  “Then I shall bring an ample supply of cotton to stuff in your ears to muffle the sound.”

  The sputtering sound of the duke’s continued indignation gave Meredith a very small measure of satisfaction as she left the room.

  Eleven

  In the two weeks that followed her marriage, Meredith once again created a sensation among the ton, for she was seen everywhere with the same escort—balls, parties, dinners, musical evenings, the theater, even the occasional afternoon at the park.

  Tongues were wagging and speculation ran high, yet the gossipmongers soon discovered it was difficult to find fault with the new marchioness. When in public, she always conducted herself with style, grace, and good humor. Her escort was not always as circumspect, but allowances were made, for he was a tall, handsome, distinguished man of noble rank who appeared to hold her in some affection. He was also her father-in-law

  It was quickly noted that Lady Meredith seemed to enjoy the duke’s company a great deal, though she spent much of her time at various social occasions circulating among the other guests. Yet she arrived and departed each event with her head held high and her arm locked securely around the duke’s arm.

  It was also noted that when dancing took place she again allowed herself only one partner: the duke.

  This behavior was not, as some believed, a well-thought out, deliberate plan of Lady Meredith’s, designed with the sole purpose of drawing attention away from the fact that her husband, the dashing marquess, was never seen anywhere publicly with his wife.

  Meredith nearly laughed out loud when a high-stepping dandy had slyly complimented her on her cleverness for concocting such a brilliant strategy. The situation she now found herself being applauded for had evolved out of desperation, not planning.

  It had begun the morning after her hasty marriage and come to fruition late that
night as she waited in vain for her husband to come to her bed. In the wee hours of the early morning, before sheer exhaustion claimed her, Meredith had reviewed the possibilities of her future.

  She had thought of becoming a recluse. She had pondered retiring to one of the country estates her husband had been so keen on sending her to. She had even considered claiming an illness to avoid appearing in Society.

  Yet each idea fairly smacked of cowardice and, though humiliated, Meredith was not about to compound her shame by hiding herself away. Instead she began to accept a select number of invitations. Because she needed support, needed someone to stand beside her, she had coerced the duke into accompanying her.

  Dancing only with the duke was again a happenstance. Desperate to avoid such intimate contact with other men, she refused all invitations to take to the dance floor one night at Lady Chester’s ball. But when the duke had asked her to partner him for a quadrille, she had felt it her duty to agree.

  The same thing happened the following night, and this occurrence did not go unobserved. Soon it was the talk of the evening. Since Meredith found it was the perfect way to distance herself from the rakes and rogues who were eager to work their wiles and charm upon such an obviously neglected wife, she continued with the practice and let the wagging tongues have their say.

  To her surprise, Meredith discovered she actually enjoyed dancing with her father-in-law He was a tall man, well over six feet, and she did not have to hunch her back to be comfortable when in his embrace.

  On this particular evening, she favored him with three dances, then decided she had enough frivolity for one night. The ducal carriage was summoned and a footman assisted her and then the duke inside. Once they were settled comfortably, the carriage lurched forward, taking the unlikely pair home.

  Though only a short distance, these drives often took longer because of the crowded streets. Meredith never minded. It gave her time to recall the evening’s activities with the duke. It also gave her time to collect her emotions, gather her strength, and don her shield of polite indifference on the off chance that she would encounter her seldom seen husband when she arrived home.

  “That was a crush,” the duke said as he gingerly adjusted his position on the velvet seat to ease the pain in his knee. “Leave it to the Countess of Tewsk-bury to invite five hundred people when her ballroom can accommodate only half that number. The woman is a ninny.”

  “ ’Tis no secret that the countess has a great fear of being a failure as a hostess,” Meredith observed. “Therefore she invited an overly large number of guests to ensure a success even if many decided not to attend.”

  “Judging by the size of the crowd, I would venture to say everyone of consequence accepted her invitation.”

  Meredith sighed. With a most notable exception, she remarked silently to herself. The Marquess of Dardington was conspicuously absent.

  “Yes, the countess seemed pleased,” Meredith commented. “I would qualify the evening as a success. I believe I shall write to her tomorrow morning and tell her how much we both enjoyed ourselves.”

  “Such open approval from you will certainly elevate her status as a first-rate hostess.” The duke hunted in his waistcoat pocket and drew out a cheroot.

  “How ridiculous.” Meredith laughed. “I was always considered something of a social pariah, yet now that I am your daughter-in-law, my opinions suddenly matter.”

  “ ’Tis the way of the nobility,” the duke declared. He lit his cheroot and took a puff. “Did you know the countess’s grandfather was a merchant? There are some who say she still carries the taint of the shop.”

  “A most unpardonable sin.”

  “It certainly can be.” The duke lowered the carriage window to let out the smoke. “She might be a ninny, but there is not a cruel or mean bone within her body. Your support and approval would be a boon to her.”

  “Then she shall have it.”

  The coach rocked to a stop. Meredith glanced out into the moonlit street, but did not recognize the surroundings. They had not arrived at the duke’s residence but instead were caught in traffic. She leaned back against the comfortable, plush squabs and rested her eyes, not minding the delay. After all, it was not as if there was anyone waiting for her at home except her maid.

  “You should have heard old Monford tonight,” the duke said. “He nearly had a fit of apoplexy when we started our third dance. Just isn’t done, you know. He later told Billingsly that I orchestrated your marriage as an excuse to keep you in my company and in my home. Can you imagine such drivel?”

  Meredith smiled in the darkness. “The Earl of Monford has never been known for his tact or intelligence. Still, you sound far too flattered by the comment for it to be such a ridiculous notion.”

  “I’m not dead yet,” the duke huffed. “Is it so impossible to speculate that a man of my years could keep up with a young woman like you? The rumor could be true.”

  “Most assuredly. You have done a fair job of keeping in step so far.” Her eyes glinted with mischief. “However, you must learn to pace yourself. There are quite a few more weeks of frantic socializing to endure.”

  “Endure? Do you really dislike it so much, Meredith?”

  “It can be a trial at times,” she admitted softly as the gentleness in the duke’s voice prompted an honest answer.

  “Why do you do it?”

  “ ’Tis expected.”

  The duke sputtered loudly. “What rot! You, my dear child, have never done what is proper or expected. What is the true reason?”

  Meredith shook out the folds of her skirt. Keeping her head lowered, she muttered, “It passes the time, helps keep the loneliness at bay. I fear I might lose my mind if I stayed in my rooms all day and night.”

  “Ahhh, as I suspected.” There was a pause as the duke took a final drag on his cheroot, then flung the remaining piece out the open carriage window. “When was the last time you saw my son?”

  Meredith’s head shot up. She cleared her throat, then swallowed. “I am not certain. Three or four days ago, I believe.”

  “It was four days,” the duke said calmly.

  “Are you spying on me?” Meredith asked in astonishment.

  “It is hardly necessary when you live beneath my roof.”

  Meredith folded her arms beneath her breasts. She had underestimated her noble father-in-law Though he had shown her kindness and empathy, he was still a duke, with a need to manipulate and control everything he possibly could.

  It was dark in the carriage, yet he must have sensed her agitation.

  “I am concerned,” the duke added.

  “Then speak with your son,” she replied bitterly.

  “I have.”

  Meredith groaned. She felt the warmth of a blush cover her cheeks. “What did he say?” It hurt her pride to ask, but she was too desperate for news to care.

  The duke shifted uncomfortably. “Nothing of substance or consequence. Though he did mention a town house property for lease that his secretary had located. It wasn’t in a very fashionable section nor in the best condition, but I got the impression he might be interested in taking it. Has he discussed this with you?”

  “No.” Meredith turned her head, becoming very interested in the fringed shade of the carriage. “Though it does not matter. I will not move even if the marquess has leased the property.” A sudden thought occurred. “Unless you wish me to leave?”

  “You may stay as long as you desire.” The duke cleared his throat. “I confess to becoming used to having you around.”

  “Rather like a pet dog?” she interjected wryly.

  The duke laughed heartily. “I have grown fond of you, Meredith, as you are no doubt well aware. I will admit, however, that was not always the circumstance.”

  The tension eased and Meredith smiled also. “Why did you dislike me so much? I do not recall ever meeting you until Trevor introduced us the day we were married.”

  “Ahhh, but we had met. Three years prior
at a ball. When I went into the supper room, I noticed you immediately. You were surrounded by several men, all of whom were hanging upon your every word. I thought you were a beautiful young woman, flirting and flattering with her many suitors, but as I strolled past I heard you spouting advice about making an investment in the Lowry shipping company.”

  “What was I saying?”

  “A bunch of nonsense.”

  Meredith frowned as she tried to recall the particulars. “As best I remember, I have never invested any money in a shipping firm of that name.”

  “Well, some of us did.” The duke’s mouth curled in self-derision. “Lost a fair amount of coin, too. How in blazes could you, a mere slip of a girl, know the investment was ill advised?”

  Meredith’s brow furrowed as she tried to remember the details. “I always investigate a business opportunity thoroughly before committing any funds. There must have been something about this firm . . . wait! I remember now. It was the captain of the largest schooner. He drank heavily. It was obvious he could not be trusted. I concluded his successful trading runs of the past were merely luck and assumed his luck would eventually run out.”

  “It did,” the duke grumbled. “Along with a good portion of my money.”

  “You should have listened to my advice,” Meredith countered, trying to keep the smug edge of satisfaction from her tone.

  “Investment advice from a woman? A young woman?” The duke shook his head. “Ridiculous.”

  “I know ’tis practically a crime for a female to have a functioning brain that she often uses—”

  “It is a serious liability,” the duke interrupted. “However, given the challenges you and my son are facing, I am hopeful that in your case it will prove to be an asset.”

  Meredith was momentarily shocked into silence. His confidence in her was both humbling and frightening. If only she possessed the same degree of hope concerning the state of her marriage. The coach halted a final time and Meredith realized they had arrived home. The duke escorted her up the main staircase.