A Most Unusual Situation: A Traditional Version Georgian Romance (The Gravesmeres Book 1)

by Alicia Quigley

  "Ah, there you are, my boy," said the duke jovially. "Come here and say hello to your future parents-in-law. You know my lord and lady Redecombe, I believe."

  Adam bowed abruptly. "We have met many times, sir. Welcome to Gravesmere House."

  The earl stepped forward and clapped him on the shoulder. "Pleased to see you again, my boy. I can't tell you how happy we are to welcome you to the family."

  Adam stiffened and glared at the earl from under his thick lashes. "Thank you, my lord." His voice was forbidding.

  Redecombe appeared to be unfazed by Adam's evident hostility. "I am most pleased with this match, my boy. Allegra is a fine girl and will make you a happy man. You'll find her to be docile and gentle, just what you're looking for in a wife. She'll not give you any trouble." Adam managed a brief, cold smile. It was increasingly apparent to Allegra that it was only by keeping the tightest rein on himself that he was managing to control his temper.

  "And here is your bride," continued the earl, approaching Allegra and taking her hand. Flustered, she rose hastily to her feet, trying to shake out the folds of the pink dress that hung on her like a sack. She gazed up at her husband to be, her pale eyes pleading for some sort of sympathy or understanding.

  Adam's green eyes filled with surprise and then shock as he took in his bride. Allegra was only too aware that the dress clashed with her red hair, and the pastel color drew whatever color she possessed out of her skin. She held herself awkwardly, trying to hide the embarrassment that swamped her. Tears formed in the corners of her eyes and threatened to spill over.

  Adam swung away from her and turned on his father, clearly too furious to think clearly. "Surely you are not going to marry me to this?" he demanded "She's as plain as can be! I'll be a laughingstock among my friends!"

  The duke seized Adam by the arm and shook him roughly. "Do not embarrass me more than you already have, my boy!" he snapped. "You will marry Allegra and you will do it with a becoming air of grace."

  Adam turned away with an angry exclamation. Allegra, her knees shaking slightly, was led to his side, and her cold little hand was placed in his. The clergyman approached, wreathed in smiles, and spoke the words of the wedding ceremony over them. Allegra could hear the fury in Adam's voice as he made his responses, and she could feel the tension in his body as he stood next to her. He hates me, she thought miserably, and who can blame him? She glanced at him and their eyes met briefly, but she detected no spark of interest or concern. Any hopes she had cherished of possibly striking up a friendship with her husband withered away. This marriage, it seemed, was doomed from the start.

  Chapter 1

  London’s Latest Rage

  The Duke of Gravesmere gazed over the rail of the ship at the cliffs approaching across the surf. England, he thought. I'm back in England. It had been four years since he had left, and much had happened since. He was older and wiser, he had learned how treacherous the world could be, his father had died, and he had met the only woman he would ever love.

  He turned and gazed warmly at the woman who stood at his side. Glossy black hair tumbled from under a charming hat, and a blue velvet travelling dress hugged the curves of her voluptuous body. With a devilish smile he leaned forward and kissed her, watching with pleasure as her violet eyes widened and she leaned towards him eagerly. She reached up with one delicate hand to stroke his cheek.

  “Adam, you’re being indiscreet," she murmured.

  "I don’t care. These might be our last moments of freedom," Adam replied. He kissed her again.

  She pressed her body against his. "Oh Adam, perhaps I should not have returned with you.”

  "I can't get enough of you, love," he murmured. "I will make certain you don't regret accompanying me."

  "How could I ever no wish to not be at your side?" whispered Louisa, Lady Manning. Her arm slid around his waist. "I must admit that I do not have much to return to in England, but your presence here will change that."

  Adam drew in his breath. "It just isn't fair!" he said. "I have been avoiding this day for four years now, and I can hardly believe that it has actually come upon me."

  "But you must be happy to be back in England, at least," responded Louisa. “Your home and family are here.”

  "I would happily shun England's shores the rest of my life if I could avoid the fate that awaits me," promised Adam. “You are all I need."

  Louisa touched his cheek gently. "Adam, you must put the best face on it possible. You are the Duke of Gravesmere, and you have responsibilities. Your mother and your wife await you."

  "My wife!" Adam closed his eyes and grimaced. "Don't say that word. I can't think of that hideous child as my wife. I would gladly trade her for you, my Louisa."

  "It's a shame we did not meet until you were in Paris," agreed Louisa. "I believe we might have made a pretty match of it if you were not already wed. I think perhaps I have been cursed by the Fates, to find the man I love only to learn he can never be mine." She gazed mournfully up at him, tears welling up behind her long lashes.

  "It was not my choice," protested Adam. "I would never willingly hurt you."

  Louisa smiled softly. "I know that. And we will always have those lovely months together in Europe. I have fond memories of the nights in Rome, and our stay in Venice. I still laugh when I think of the fits you gave Dr. Fitch, sneaking out to be with me every night. When you are gone from my life and I am alone, I will have those memories to keep me company."

  "Don't speak that way. We will never be separated," declared Adam passionately.

  Louisa blinked her tears away. "We will be separated very soon. You can't live with me in London; it would cause a terrible scandal. Your life is here in England, Adam, and you must pick up the threads of it. I will be glad for any small piece I can play in it."

  "You are too noble, Louisa. I promise that I will never neglect you."

  "Thank you, Adam. I know I can trust you." Louisa gave him a wistful smile as she took his hand, pressing it gratefully. “I must depend on you utterly now.”

  "At least we will have some time together before I must make my presence known in London. I have decided to lay low for a few days with you. I wrote ahead and had my solicitor rent a house in Half Moon Street; we should be quite cozy there together."

  "Will you, Adam? That will make me very happy.” She gave him a sidelong glance. “I admit to being sorely jealous of your wife."

  "Don't be miserable, darling. We'll have many happy nights together yet. Just because I have a wife doesn’t mean I can’t give you everything you desire." He squeezed her hand meaningfully.

  Louisa gave a tiny sigh and then smiled bravely. "I will have to be content with that, I suppose. Your wife will have a claim on so much of your time."

  Adam grasped her shoulder and turned her towards him, gazing into her eyes. "I won't forsake you, Louisa. I told my mother four years ago that they could force me to marry that girl but they could not force me to be a husband to her. I may have to share my house with her, but my heart and my body are yours."

  Louisa hung her head. "Perhaps it would be best if you tried to make a life with her. She is your wife, after all. Maybe it was a mistake for me to come with you. I will surely bring scandal on you. Everyone knows I left England before because of my debts, and my poor departed husband was so much older than I am...people said such hurtful things when I married him. I knew it wasn't true, but it hurt when they said I married him only for his title."

  "Don't say that," demanded Adam. "I know the truth, that your parents forced you into that marriage, and that the ruinous bills were your husband's. Gossip doesn't deter me. I'll always return to your arms, my love."

  Louisa smiled gently. "You know best, Adam. I will do whatever you tell me to do. I don't have the strength to resist you."

  Louisa leaned her head on his chest, her fingers gently reaching up to touch his golden hair. Adam dropped a kiss into her wind-swept locks.

  "Trust me, my dear, I will take care of
you,” he murmured. "Soon we will be home."

  Louisa smiled sweetly up at him, her eyes never betraying her thoughts. She felt she had played that little scene very well indeed. The Duke of Gravesmere was too fine a catch for her to drive him away with a show of jealousy. The right touch of sorrow, loving resignation, and a total willingness to please him in every way would do more than a thousand tantrums to make him stay with her.

  She had invested far too much time in Adam to give up now. Since she had first met the handsome young lord in Paris, Louisa had been quite certain that he was her future. He might have a wife, but the marriage was unconsummated, his father dead, and his heart clearly not in his marriage. With a little careful management, she would still be the Duchess of Gravesmere.

  "I trust you, sweetheart," she murmured. "For now all I want is to make you happy." She gazed up him longingly, her eyes promising him future delights.

  "I love you, Louisa," Adam groaned.

  "I know you do, darling," she replied.

  Much later that day Adam and Louisa set out on their journey to London. They travelled in easy stages, for Adam was in no hurry to trade his charming mistress for a dowdy wife, and Louisa was only too happy to indulge him. When they reached town she declared herself delighted with the charming house he had rented in Half Moon Street, and she set out to turn it into a haven of domesticity. She organized a number of charming card parties for her acquaintances to amuse Adam, and if the company was not quite of the highest reaches of Society, and perhaps a little vulgar, he took no notice.

  Gravesmere’s foremost emotion was pleasure that none of them were friends of his mother and she would therefore not hear of his presence in London. He had notified her that he would be arriving, and most of his baggage had been sent on ahead to Gravesmere House, but he had given no precise date to expect him, and he found he continued to put off the dreaded trip. Louisa urged him most charmingly to visit his mother, who she felt sure would cherish the sight of him, but he resisted, savoring his last days of freedom. Increasingly, he found thoughts of his wife haunting him, despite his mistresses' constant reassurances that she had surely improved with time. Was she still so gawky, and was her hair still that awful shade of flaming red? And how could he possibly live with her, when he was completely enamored with Louisa?

  In the course of his travels Adam had received the occasional letter from Allegra, written in a childish hand and expressing the merest banalities. Over the last year, even those had stopped, and he had no idea at all what she might be like. He, in turn, had written not at all, and it was only at the urgings of Dr. Fitch that he had sent the occasional bauble to her as a present. He dreaded to think what she might be like. His recollection of her was simply of a gangly and pale child with tearful eyes. Allegra was now of an age to go out into society and had been introduced to the ton as the Duchess of Gravesmere this very season; Adam dreaded to think of how his friends must be snickering at him even now.

  These dark thoughts manifested in his dreams, and awoke him one morning. He gazed at Louisa as she slumbered next to him, her midnight-black hair spread across the whiteness of the pillow, her cherry-red lips parted, her violet eyes cloaked. He thought about waking her in order to wipe the last remnants of his nightmare away, but he remembered her voraciousness the night before and how she had kept him busy until near dawn. She must be very tired. He rose, being careful not to rouse her, and dressed. It looked to be a beautiful day; perhaps a walk would lift his foul mood.

  Adam strolled randomly through the streets of London, moving briskly in an attempt to clear his head. He stopped as he neared the park, enjoying the simplicity of the scene. It was much too early for the truly fashionable hour of the promenade, but the park was not completely empty of occupants. Although Adam did not see anyone he knew, others were abroad enjoying the fine weather. There were even some elegant ladies and gentlemen, on horseback and in carriages, exchanging smiles and nods. There were also children playing with their nurses in small groups, chasing balls and squealing with pleasure. It was all very English to Adam's unaccustomed eye, and he realized he was in truth glad to be home. It was only his marital situation that irked him.

  He watched for a few minutes, and then on a whim went to the nearest livery stable and hired a horse; not one of which he was terribly proud, but one which would serve for a brief turn in the park to enjoy the fine afternoon. As he rode through the park, his mind in turmoil, Adam could almost imagine himself in Paris, riding in the Bois de Boulogne with Louisa at his side. He was furious that she was here in London with him and yet he might not declare his feelings for her. His parents had robbed him of that opportunity, and bound him to a well-born nonentity.

  His wandering attention was recalled as the sound of pounding hooves caused his horse to flicker an ear and sidle across the track. Adam watched in surprise as a fine black stallion galloped wildly into view. He was amazed to see that there was a woman riding it, laughing aloud as the pair tore along. She wore an extremely tight‑fitting riding habit, which accentuated her tiny waist and feminine curves. Its dark green color highlighted the red‑gold curls that glinted in the sunlight where they escaped from her high crowned hat, which boasted an enormous plume of feathers that brushed her shoulders. Despite her delicate figure, she handled the powerful beast at the dangerous pace with the ease of an accustomed horsewoman. Tearing after her came two gentlemen, who called out as they chased her. She pulled up quite close to Adam, and the rapidity and collection of their halt and the quiet attitude of the horse spoke volumes for her skill.

  She waited for her admirers to canter up and greeted them laughingly. "Didn't I tell you that my Midnight was more than a match for your horses?"

  The men stopped next to her, and were eager in their assurances of her superiority. One man seized her hand and kissed it eagerly. "Before today I felt that you were at your best in the ballroom, dear lady, but now I believe that you are even lovelier on horseback," he declared passionately.

  The woman shook her head and withdrew her hand. "Don't make an idiot of yourself, Roland," she said, looking over his shoulder. "I believe now we will have to wait for my groom."

  They were soon joined by that individual, who looked clearly harassed by his volatile charge. She tossed him an apologetic smile and laughed.

  "It is amazing that you are riding so early in the day, oh fair Artemis," observed one of the gentlemen. "I know you danced until three this morning. Is there no end to your energy?"

  The woman laughed again and tossed her head. "Pooh. Do you think me such a poor thing that a little dancing would keep me lying abed on a fine day? I am not likely to waste my afternoons languishing about with a cup of chocolate and visits from my hairdresser. I am a fashion unto myself."

  "And a most beautiful one," responded her companion. "Will you attend the ridotto at Ranelagh this evening?"

  "I? A member of the haut ton at a public masquerade?" replied the woman with a touch of hauteur.

  "I will have no pleasure if you are not there. Allow me to escort you; I will make sure you come to no harm."

  She smiled and tantalizing dimples appeared in her cheeks. "I believe you may see me there. My brother will be my escort, however; he will guard my virtue better than you would."

  "You wound me," cried the gentleman. "I have no thought but that which makes you happy."

  "Then I will see you there tonight," she said teasingly, turning her horse and urging it forward. The party continued on their way at a sedate walk, laughing and talking gaily.

  Adam watched them move on, surprised by what he had seen. The woman was very beautiful, and her horsemanship was remarkable. Galloping in the park was rather scandalous, but he had to admire her skill and daring. He wondered who she was. No woman of his acquaintance could handle a horse like that. Whoever she was, she must be a new arrival to London. He would surely remember any woman who looked and rode like that.

  Adam made his way back to Half Moon Street, finding Louisa l
ying abed with a bowl of chocolate, her hairdresser hovering over her as he arranged her curls. She beckoned to Adam with an intimate smile, and he perched on a small stool and watched her perfect profile as she went through the small pile of invitations on her tray.

  "There is an invitation to dine with Mr. Buckley," she said. "Shall we venture out tonight?"

  "I am tired of small parties," said Adam petulantly. An unbidden thought popped into his head. "I think we shall do something more adventurous. What do you think of attending the ridotto at Ranelagh this evening?"

  "Oh, Adam, could we?" Louisa's violet eyes flashed at him eagerly. "Do you think we should be seen together in public?"

  "We shall be masked," shrugged Adam. "And I would love to go out in public with you. I only regret we cannot do it more often."

  "You are so kind to me, darling Adam." Louisa patted his hand. "I will be so unhappy when this time together is over. I must admit that sometimes I pretend to myself that we are married and need never be parted again. I know it's silly of me, but I can't help it."

  Adam looked down at the top of her drooping head and stifled an oath. His wife. He would never forgive his father for forcing this marriage on him and depriving him of the woman he truly loved.

  And so that night Adam and Louisa arrived at Ranelagh Gardens. He wore a plain black domino and mask; Louisa's domino of violet silk hung open over a sumptuous gown of lilac satin heavily embroidered in gold. The gardens were brightly lit by gaily twinkling lanterns; the pavilions overflowed with refreshments and revelers seeking to discover what faces were hidden behind the masks. Strains of music floated from the pavilion, where people clad in brightly colored dominos danced. The pair dined in comfort in a private box and then ventured forth into the ballroom, where they danced a few turns.