Desperate Bride

by A. S. Fenichel

  “A close acquaintance?”

  “Mother does not have friends.” A sad fact that made Dory’s friends even more precious.

  “I will inform my valet we are going out tonight, then.”

  Before he could take his leave, she touched his hand where it lay on the fine wood. “Will you ever say no to me?”

  His eyes widened before he could replace the mild expression he always wore. “Is that what you want?”

  “I want the truth. I thought we had agreed to honesty.” Her heart pounded as harp strings out of tune.

  He cocked his head and took her hand. Leaning, he kissed her fingers. “I have not lied to you.”

  “No. You have said nothing. We have been in London for weeks and you speak only when there is no other choice. I wanted us to be friends, Tom, but I think you do not want that.” She wanted to say more, to complain that he had not come to her bed or invited her into his.

  Without looking her in the eye, he traced a path along her fingers with his thumb. “We are friends, Dory. I am very fond of you. In answer to your question, I will deny you nothing within reason. My vow was to care for you, and I will do so to the best of my ability for as long as we live.”

  Her breath caught. What could she say?

  “I will inform your maid you have need of her.” Thomas strode out as if the room were on fire.

  The plea that would bring him back to her lodged in her throat, tight with emotions she couldn’t sort out.

  * * * *

  Fitzwilliam’s ball always drew a big crowd. It would be good for the ton to see them there. That was why she insisted they attend even with the short notice. Besides, she was sure her mother had gone to some trouble to secure them the invitation.

  The announcement of their arrival came with quite a few whispers and many turned heads. Scandal would follow them until someone else provided society with a better story.

  Thomas’s expression was tight as he led her into the ballroom. They greeted their hosts at the door and endured coolness but not disdain. Not a bad beginning.

  At the large fireplace, Thomas stopped but kept her hand threaded through his elbow.

  “Why are you angry, Tom?”

  His eyes darted around the room. “I have done business with many of the men in this room and made some of them quite a lot of money. I expect to be treated better and I expect my wife to be treated better.”

  She shrugged. “We broke the rules. You knew this would happen. In fact, you warned me about the eventuality. We are lucky to have been invited.”

  “Still, it aggravates me.”

  She stepped in front of him so he would look at her and not at the people still whispering behind their hands. “You do not even like these rule-following sheep. I have heard you say so many times. You despise their rules and their ways. Why should you care if they gossip about you?”

  Eyes like steel, he stared at her. “I do not, but I care if they whisper about you.”

  Her chest tightened. “Your wrath is on my behalf?”

  He nodded stiffly.

  “Perhaps we should give them something to talk about.”

  A wicked smile tugged at his lips. She’d missed the expression in the past few weeks. “What did you have in mind, wife?”

  The music changed to a waltz. “Dance with me?”

  He bowed and offered her his hand.

  They floated to the center of the floor. It was early in the evening and only a few couples had danced so far. Placing one hand at the small of her back and giving her the option to take his other, he smiled at her in the way she longed for.

  Until then, she hadn’t realized just how much she missed his regard. She took his hand, only their gloves separating skin from skin. Still the warmth of him infused her and spread to her toes, soothing everyplace in between.

  He moved them around the dance floor with effortless precision. “Have I told you how lovely you look tonight, Dory?”

  “Not yet.”

  “You are the most beautiful woman in the room. I am honored to be in your company.”

  “We should take up dancing at home.” The idea was out of her mouth before she could stop it. Her cheeks heated.

  He laughed. “Do you think so?”

  She opened the door she might as well step through. “It would be nice to have this moment in private rather than in the company of the entire ton.”

  “I am surprised to hear you say that.”

  “Why?”

  More couples joined the dance and the floor crowded with them. Thomas expertly maneuvered them around while keeping her safe and untouched by the more brutish dancers. He whirled her several times, leaving her breathless as the arched doors and vaulted ceiling spun by. The music ended before she had her answer.

  He leaned in. “Thank you for the dance. I see that Lord and Lady Marlton have arrived. Shall we join them?”

  As much as she wanted to see Sophia, she hated his avoidance in telling her why he thought her indifferent to his attention. “Of course.”

  They circled the room.

  Dory stopped short. “Lady Pemberhamble, how lovely to see you. Do you know my husband, Mr. Wheel?”

  The notorious gossip opened and closed her mouth several times like a fish out of water. “I have had the pleasure, Mrs. Wheel. Mr. Wheel, how do you do?”

  He bowed over her hand. “Delightful to see you again, Lady Pemberhamble.”

  “How are you enjoying marriage, sir?”

  Thomas grasped Dory’s hand, pulled it to his lips, and kissed her fingers. “I could not be happier with my choice of bride or our life together.”

  “I am happy for you. I wish you both joy.” It must have pained her to say it, but the public arena gave her only two choices. She either had to be cordial or she had to issue a set down. Clearly, she was unwilling to do the latter.

  Dory guessed right. She suspected Thomas’s wealth would keep most people in check. At least in public. “Thank you, my lady. Please excuse us. I see Lord and Lady Marlton have arrived.”

  With a quick curtsy, they stepped away.

  Thomas leaned in. “That was quite a show.”

  “A calculated risk, which paid off. She and her cronies are compelled to be affable, at least in public. What they say in the back halls is not our concern.”

  “My wife is a clever one. I must keep my eye on you.” Standing taller than he had when they first entered the ball, he actually appeared proud of her.

  Heart soaring for the small taste of his approval, she greeted Sophia and Daniel.

  Sophia’s golden eyes narrowed with concern. “How are you, Dory?”

  “I am fine. I saw you two days ago. Don’t look so tragic.”

  With great difficulty, Sophia’s expression changed to mild pleasure. It was impossible for the countess to keep her feeling from her face, but she was learning the ways of the English gentry and made the effort. “I know, but when I heard you were attending this ball, I worried it was a plot to publicly humiliate you and Tom. I could not bear that.”

  “It is my suspicion that my mother had a hand in securing our invitation, though I cannot imagine why she would go to the trouble.”

  Thomas and Daniel stepped away and were deep in discussion.

  “How are things with Tom?” Sophia’s mild expression slipped.

  “We are fine. Nothing has changed. I write and play. He works and sneaks in listening to me play.” The pain in her chest tightened.

  Anthony joined them. He was in black with a buttery-yellow waistcoat and crisp white cravat. Playing the part of a proper English dandy came easily to him. “I hope I am not intruding, ladies.”

  “No, Tony. It’s good to see you.” Sophia kissed his cheek.

  “This is quite a crowd. The music is fine, don’t you think, Mrs. Wheel?”
Watching the dancers, he clapped when the bandleader announced a La Boulangere. “As I cannot dance with my sister, would you do me the honor of this dance, Mrs. Wheel?”

  He was too delightful to refuse. “Of course.”

  Leading her to the dance floor, he nearly came out of his shoes. They found their circle as the dance began. Tall yet light on his feet, Anthony showed more than average enthusiasm for the dance, which was delightful.

  Dory had to hold back laughing at his exuberance.

  “This is one of my favorites,” he said.

  Watching him was too much fun. “You dance very well.”

  Their circle turned and came together until the last strain played out, and he bowed while she made a curtsy.

  Anthony offered his arm. “This was the highlight of the evening.”

  Placing her hand near his elbow, she laughed. “I am certain that is not true, but thank you for the dance. I enjoyed it.”

  They arrived by their friends as Daniel pulled Sophia out for the next dance.

  Tom’s frown deepened at Anthony, who bowed and stepped away.

  Chin high and eyes focused anywhere but on her, he might have been a statue meant to go with the gilded walls and painted ceilings. “Are you jealous, Tom?”

  With a snap of his head, he stared into her eyes. “I should hope not.”

  “Then why did you scare Mr. Braighton away?”

  “Did I?” He crossed his arms and watched the dancers again.

  “You know you did. It would be silly to be jealous of that young man. I have no interest and I think he is only being nice. Besides, you shall never have to worry I will betray you. I made my vows and will abide them. I could never hurt you with such a dishonorable act.”

  The lines around his blue eyes eased and he almost smiled. “Would you like to dance, Dory?”

  “That would be nice, but perhaps we should wait a few minutes. We can get some lemonade and make ourselves seen.”

  “The sight of you in another man’s arms did not please me. Not even if it is the brother of our good friend and I know he means no harm.”

  Looking over her shoulder at him, she expected to see amusement in his eyes, but what she found was much more serious. “To be honest, I am rather happy to hear you say that.”

  He grabbed her elbow and pushed her to a corner of the ballroom where a small niche offered them privacy. He backed her in and blocked out the sights of the room. Intensity shot from his gaze through her.

  Her heart pounded against her chest with both fear and excitement. With no clue whether what she’d said angered him or not, she didn’t know how to react.

  When he leaned in, it trapped them in a bubble of intimacy. “Dory, we may not have married for love or even for more practical reasons, but make no mistake, I am yours just as you are mine. I would not like to find you in a compromising position and I will not break my marriage vows. Not now. Not ever.”

  A lump that could turn into tears clogged her throat. She took a deep breath, and then another. She touched his cheek but pulled back. “Tom, I would not blame you if you took a lover. Arrogance on my part, I suppose, but I hoped you would not. A bit of my father in me to think I was alone in commanding your attention.”

  His whisper struck right to her heart. “You are alone in that.”

  She was struck dumb. Nothing clever came to her as she dashed away a tear that insisted on escaping. She steeled her expression and met his gaze.

  He stepped back and offered his arm as they walked to the refreshment tables.

  At half past midnight, the lively music drew them back to the dance floor. If every night could begin and end with him holding her in his arms, she would be blissful.

  Voices rumbled through the crowd like a disease spreading evil as it went. The dancers stilled, forcing Dory and Thomas to stop as well.

  Lord Hartly, stooped and bitter, trudged through the crush of people. They parted for him as if he were poison, or maybe it was their eagerness to see the scene unfold.

  Sanford Wormfield at Hartly’s left shoulder wore an amused sneer and fixed his gaze on Dory.

  Thomas bowed. “My lord.”

  Hartly pointed a crooked finger. “You are a thief and a scoundrel. You are no gentleman.”

  Standing straight and proud, Thomas looked him in the eye. He kept his voice low but firm. “I stole nothing. My wife is not property to be bartered like wool or tobacco. She made her choice. I regret any injury to you.”

  Hartly blinked several times and licked his thin, cracked lips. “Are you an imbecile?”

  Thomas laughed. “I suppose to you it must seem as if I am.”

  Dory’s heart beat so fast she thought she might faint. She had been a fool to think once she married Tom all of this drama would go away. There was a price and no amount of manipulation from her mother would alter that fact.

  “There was to be a contract and you knew it, yet you still took the girl and carried her to Scotland.” Hartly continued to point his finger.

  “True.” Thomas’s voice remained calm and even. The crowd leaned in to hear his softly spoken part of the altercation.

  Hartly widened his deep-set, bloodshot, pale blue eyes. “You do not deny your injury to me?”

  “I need not deny anything, my lord. The situation is what it is. You had not yet signed the contract and Dorothea chose to marry me. That you feel the lash of those facts is unfortunate but hardly my problem.”

  “You…I…I am an earl!”

  “A fact everyone is aware of.”

  “I will crush you.” Hartly shook his fist at Thomas.

  Stepping closer, Thomas towered over the aging earl. His eyes were pinpoints of controlled rage. “You may try, my lord.”

  Hartly put up a hand.

  Wormfield stepped forward. “You cannot make a scene here. We will deal with this gentleman another way.”

  If the situation was not bad enough, Dory’s father stumbled across the ballroom, red-faced and with his clothes disheveled. Dory was an expert at keeping her feelings masked in public, but her resolve slipped. At the edge of the crowd her mother watched, shaking her head. Their gazes met and Dory recognized the apology in her mother’s eyes. She turned away and stepped behind the fleshy form of Lady Drusilla Monkford.

  No help would come from that quarter.

  Dory took a deep breath and pulled her shoulders back. “Hello, Father. You look unwell. Perhaps you should find a quiet place to sit down.”

  For a few seconds, he looked at her as if he had no clue who she was or what she had said. “I have nothing to say to you, daughter.”

  It was a cut direct. Dory kept her chin up. “I understand. Since there is no need for us to speak again, I shall oblige you from this point forward.”

  Geoffrey’s back stiffened but the reaction caused him to teeter, and he grabbed hold of Hartly’s shoulder to steady himself.

  The crowd remained riveted on the scene.

  Hartly’s frail frame couldn’t support the drunken lord and the two listed to the left.

  Wormfield clutched Hartly’s arm.

  Thomas caught hold of Hartly’s other shoulder and grabbed Flammel by his coat, righting them before they hit the floor. The event brought them all close together. “Gentlemen, you are both out of order. Dorothea is my wife now. I understand your dispute, but it is unforgivable that you have created this scene. I shall settle with you in private or not at all.” He stared into Hartly’s eyes. “If you attempt to harm me, my family, or my business, I assure you, you will pay the price and it will be far higher than an embarrassing few moments in a ballroom. I am not some upstart to be threatened. I advise you to keep that in mind.”

  Father blinked several times as if the threat did not penetrate his drunken haze.

  There was no mistake Hartly understood the threat.
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br />   To Dory’s surprise, a flash of fear crossed his face.

  A guttural noise close to a growl issued from Wormfield, but Tom ignored the thug and kept his focus on Hartly. Stepping back, he raised his voice so the people close to them could hear. “Good of you gentlemen to seek us out. My wife and I appreciate your well-wishes more than you can imagine. I hope to have you both to dinner in the near future.”

  Daniel reached the musicians and an instant later the music started again. The crush of people backed away and the murmur of gossip dimmed.

  Hartly stomped away mumbling something while her father stood dumb staring at them.

  Thomas pointed at Margaret, who stood watching near the doorway. “Your wife awaits you, my lord. I think she is ready to retire for the evening.”

  With a last look at the couple, Lord Castlereagh stumbled away.

  Thomas turned to her for the first time since Hartly interrupted their dance. His eyes were wild with passion and danger. Grabbing her around the waist, he pulled her close and kissed her on the lips.

  Dory clutched his shoulders to keep her feet. The contact was intense and shot through her like a lightning bolt.

  The music changed to a promenade.

  Thomas broke the kiss, his eyes closed for a moment before he bowed to her and offered his hand in dance.

  A new round of mumbling rushed through the ballroom.

  Unable to put a sensible thought together, she accepted his hand and curtsied. The voices faded, leaving only her and Tom moving around the room, as if in a bubble. Even when the dance took her away from him, their gazes never faltered. People would say they were rude, but she imagined that was the least of what they would say of the couple after the scene they’d been the center of.

  As the last strain faded he bowed low to her. “Shall we go home?”

  She took his offered hand and they eased through the crowd without speaking to anyone. Sophia watched from the refreshment table and Dory gave her a nod as they passed the arched entrance.

  Sophia smiled and raised her glass.

  Waiting for her pelisse in the foyer might have been the longest wait of her life. She tried to seem oblivious to the gawking from the next room or the people who felt the need to walk past the doorway more than once. It was difficult to keep her mouth shut and her eyes focused on the door.