by Anne O'Brien
He sensed her relief when it was over and he withdrew from her. In spite of his physical satisfaction he felt piqued, hurt even, at her lack of response. It was no better than the first time he had come to her. And he had prided himself on his finesse in awakening feminine desires and responses in the hearts of those women who had shared his bed. He had never had any complaints. Letitia had always been more than co-operative in making herself available to his demands. He blocked out his wayward thoughts of that warm, inventive body and focused instead on the slight, unresponsive figure still cradled in his arms. Her eyes were closed as if to shut out the sight of him. He had thought he had detected a warmth in her, a spirit of generosity and courage, a need to give as well as to receive. Disappointment welled up within him as he was forced to accept that he had been mistaken. But what did he expect? Did he really want more from a wife as long as she was able to play the part assigned to her and produce the heir his duty to his family demanded? In the end, did it matter that she disliked the intimacies of the marriage bed and rewarded him with cold compliance? Yes, it did, and for perhaps the first time in his heedless life he did not know what to do about it. Without a word, he withdrew his sheltering arms and left her.
Tonight Frances made no effort to detain him. She buried her face in the pillows and wept all the tears that she had prevented him from seeing. And for what she wept she did not know. There was a great emptiness, a sense of abandonment within her, now made so much worse by Aldeborough’s absence. And, she chided herself through her sobs, desperately aware of her rejection of him, she could hardly blame him if he never came to her bed again!
Chapter Six
At breakfast next morning Aldeborough noted Frances’s pale features but without comment. She was quite composed and greeted the assembled family with a smile and a comment on how exhausting family gatherings were when faces and names were unknown. Matthew expressed the opinion that all family gatherings were a strain and to be avoided if possible. Frances laughed and agreed. She had spirit. But she found it impossible to lift her eyes to meet his direct gaze and answered briefly when he enquired whether she had slept well.
Aldeborough put down his copy of the Morning Post and addressed Frances directly. ‘I thought, if you wish it, that we could perhaps see some of the sights since you have never been in town before. I’m sure it will amuse you. What do you think?’
Frances’s face lit with pleasure. ‘I would like that above all things. I have read about London, of course, my uncle’s library was full of old history books and indeed some travel diaries, but I would dearly love to see the Tower and St Paul’s and … and everything really.’ She smiled, but without embarrassment at her lack of sophistication. ‘I’m sorry if I seem such a country nobody, but you cannot imagine what it was like to be shut away at Torrington Hall all your life.’
Aldeborough laughed at her enthusiasm.
‘Believe me, I can! So, since the sun is shining, we will gratify your wish. Are you busy this morning, Juliet?’ He looked across to his sister who was sitting over a cup of coffee, leafing through the pages of La Belle Assemblée. ‘Do you wish to accompany us? You notice that I don’t bother to ask you, Matthew.’
‘I’m engaged to meet some fellows at Tattersall’s,’ Matthew replied hastily, continuing to eat his way through a plate of cold beef and ham. ‘History’s not really my thing.’
‘You surprise me. But it would do you good. Especially a tour of Westminster Abbey. Extending your education or something of that nature.’
‘Hmm. I would rather look at horseflesh.’
‘I’ll come with you,’ Juliet broke in, earning a quizzical look from Aldeborough. ‘That is, if you can guarantee that our route will take in Bond Street.’
‘I thought there might be an ulterior motive.’ Aldeborough sighed. ‘Let me see. Another hat? As long as it comes out of your allowance and I don’t have to pay for it, I am sure it can be arranged.’
An hour later the expedition foregathered in the library, Frances deliciously turned out in a high-waisted morning gown of cream-and-white striped muslin and protected from the chill breeze by a cream silk spencer, frilled at wrist and neck. A matching reticule, French straw bonnet and cream kid gloves completed her toilette and she found that she was able to wield her parasol with more expertise and confidence than she had achieved the previous day. After some discussion, they had decided to take the barouche to the Tower of London when Watkins barred their exit.
‘Forgive me, my lord. You have a visitor. I informed him that it was your intention to be away from home for the rest of the morning, but he insisted on seeing you.’
‘Who is it, Watkins?’
‘Viscount Torrington, my lord.’
Aldeborough felt Frances draw in her breath sharply and her apprehensive gaze fix on him. He remained impassive, however, gave her a faint smile and responded calmly as if a visit from Viscount Torrington so early in the day was the most natural thing in the world.
‘I suppose we had better see him. Will you remain here with me, my lady? It might be for the best.’
Juliet made a diplomatic exit after casting a curious look in their direction. ‘I will go and see if Mama needs me to run any errands while we are out. Unless you wish for me to stay as well?’
‘No. I think we can manage without you. Show the Viscount into the morning room, if you please, Watkins.’
‘What does he want?’ Frances was swept with a sudden fear that her new life would all be snatched away from her. She felt panic rise in her chest to catch her intake of breath. She clutched her parasol and reticule with icy fingers.
‘He can do nothing that can harm you,’ Aldeborough replied soothingly, taking her hand. He was surprised at the level of her consternation. He regarded her with narrowed eyes when she clutched his hand fiercely as if she might be physically torn away. He believed that, given the opportunity, she would have fled rather than face Torrington. There was far more involved here than he had realised. ‘We will see him together. There is no cause for such concern.’
‘Yes, but …’ She took a deep breath, forcing herself to be calm. ‘Of course. We must see my uncle.’
Aldeborough, deliberately formal, bowed Frances before him into the morning room. Responding in kind to his prompting, she advanced with an elegant inclination of her head. It pleased him that she could play the role of Marchioness of Aldeborough with such grace and composure. He felt a surprising glow of pride as she walked forward at his side. Viscount Torrington was standing in the window embrasure, looking down on to the square. He had ridden to Cavendish Square from his town house in Grosvenor Square and looked uneasy in the polished surroundings, slapping his riding gauntlets against his dusty buckskins. His face was impassive, but harsh grooves were evident across his forehead and around his thin lips. He turned awkwardly at their entrance, tension in every line of his body, but his attempts at affability were quite deliberate. The two men bowed pleasantly and Frances made a slight curtsy.
‘To what do we owe the pleasure of this visit, my lord? Perhaps I can offer you a glass of canary?’ Aldeborough did not wait for a reply, but walked to the sideboard with its burden of bottles and glasses and poured out three glasses, one of which he handed to the Viscount.
‘Thank you, Aldeborough,’ he said genially. ‘Forgive me. I realise it is somewhat early for morning visits, but I am rarely in town and I have to return to the country tomorrow. Business, you know.’ Torrington’s eyes flickered from Aldeborough to Frances and back again. He was clearly ill at ease.
‘I am sure that Frances will always be pleased to welcome you to her home.’ Aldeborough’s tone was bland and non-committal. ‘So what brings you to us so early?’
‘I simply wanted to … that is … we need to straighten out the unfortunate events of nearly two weeks ago.’
Was it less than two weeks ago? To Frances, it seemed a lifetime.
‘I regret … If you will forgive my plain speaking, I cannot have my
niece living under your roof. I have her reputation to consider. There has never been any scandal in my family … I have come to take her home where she belongs.’
‘Surely it is a little late for such solicitude, my lord?’
‘I was not aware that you had left the Priory.’
Aldeborough remained silent, eyebrows raised, his calm gaze fixed on Torrington. Sweat broke out on the Viscount’s brow and he allowed his eyes to fall. He coughed nervously and turned to Frances.
‘If you would be so good as to pack your possessions, I will take you to Torrington Hall with me, Frances.’
Frances stood rigidly at her husband’s side and made no move to obey. The Viscount looked helplessly from one to the other.
‘I regret,’ said the Marquis quietly, ‘there has been some misunderstanding.’
‘Oh?’
‘I am, of course, relieved that you should be so concerned as to your niece’s reputation. Unfortunately, your concern would seem to be a little late in the day. Indeed, if she had lived with me unchaperoned all this time, she would indeed be damned in the eyes of society.’ His tone was bitter and his eyes bleak and cold like ice over granite. ‘However …’ his lips curved in the semblance of a smile ‘… I am enchanted to be able to inform you that the lady is now my wife.’ He raised one hand to prevent Torrington’s attempted interruption. ‘This is now her home. There is no scandal attached to her name.’
‘So soon? This cannot be! I have not given my permission.’ Torrington shook his head in denial, unable to grasp the news. As it gradually sank in, he raised his head and glared at Aldeborough. ‘I am her legal guardian,’ he challenged. ‘How dare you pre-empt my permission!’
‘Oh, I dare, my lord. I believe you reneged on your guardianship when you subjected my wife to the humiliation of using her as a servant, without dignity and without the respect due to her,’ Aldeborough replied harshly.
‘But she is my ward.’
‘No.’ The Marquis turned to look at Frances and formally raised her hand to his lips. ‘She is my wife. I would present to you the Marchioness of Aldeborough. She did me the great honour of marrying me at the Priory by special licence.’
‘I will have the marriage annulled,’ Torrington blustered.
‘On what grounds?’ Aldeborough kept a strong grip on her fingers. ‘There are none,’ he said firmly. Frances signalled her agreement, masking her eyes with downswept lashes.
‘You will return with me, Frances. I insist.’
‘No, my lord. You no longer have power over me to insist.’ Frances’s response was calm and matter of fact despite her inner turmoil. ‘I will, of course, remain with my husband.’
‘You will regret this, my lord. I’m sure you would dislike details of these vulgar events to escape—juicy morsels for men to gossip over in the clubs. I thought there had been enough gossip about your family of late.’
Aldeborough’s face was pale with suppressed temper, but his voice remained even, untinged with emotion. ‘Would you be considering blackmail, my lord? I would not advise it. It would do you far more harm if society was aware of your immoral actions towards your niece. If we are speaking of the improper, it is outrageous to use violence, in public, against a young woman of gentle breeding.’
Torrington drew himself up with as much dignity as was left to him. ‘You have not heard the last of this.’
‘Certainly. There are some loose ends to be tied up, I believe. My man of business will contact you about my wife’s inheritance.’ The Marquis had resumed his role of genial host. ‘I would be grateful if you would instruct him as her ladyship will reach her majority in a few weeks. My wife is no longer your concern.’
‘Damn you, Aldeborough. You will regret this, Frances. You may have to pay a heavy price for a title.’
‘I think I will not regret it, Uncle.’ Frances matched her demeanour to her husband’s.
Torrington tossed off the forgotten drink of canary, set down the glass with unnecessary force, and stalked from the room in frustrated anger.
Frances turned to Aldeborough in bewilderment, her dark brows drawn together in a straight line. ‘I simply do not understand why he is so anxious to return me to his guardianship. He never showed any concern for my welfare before. I was given to understand on so many occasions that I was an unwanted burden on the family. Quite frankly, I thought he would be glad to get me off his hands.’
‘Apparently not. Were you tempted to go with him?’ Aldeborough heard himself ask and awaited her answer with some interest.
He did not have to wait long.
‘Never! I will never go back!’
‘There is no question of it.’ He paused. ‘Can you tell me why the prospect distresses you so much? I would not have you worry for no reason.’
She shook her head. Gathering the rags of her self-possession around her, she forced her face into a bright smile. ‘No reason, my lord. Other than that I have no wish to be buried alive at Torrington Hall as I said at breakfast. Can we go now if we are to visit the Tower? Or do you think it is too late?’
‘Not at all. The sights of London are at your feet and the barouche awaits.’ He bowed her out of the Library, aware of a faint shadow of concern that would not go away. His wife could dissemble, he realised. He wondered why.
Frances settled into her life in Cavendish Square. To her relief, she had to suffer no more tête-à-tête with the Dowager, whose cold displeasure, cloaked in brittle good manners, continued to cast a shadow over the household. In Juliet she discovered a lively, sympathetic confidante with whom she could gossip and exchange ideas about fashions and other fripperies. She did not find it easy to open her heart to her new sister after her previous solitary existence, but Juliet was not discouraged by her reticence and entertained Frances with her chatter and enthusiasms. Matthew was invaluable. When he could be pinned down and distracted from any sporting activity on which he expended his energies, and be persuaded to squire the two ladies around town, he was the brother Frances never had. He was open and friendly to a fault, unfailingly good natured and willing to oblige, unlike his elder brother.
Frances saw little of Aldeborough. When she did, he was polite, courteous but invariably distant. He did not come to her at night, which left Frances disturbed by her conflicting emotions. She was not disappointed, she told herself, relieved even. Her inability to accept his touch, his caresses, without a frisson of fear troubled her, so surely it should be with a sense of relief that she accepted that he had no interest in her. Yet the memory of those fine-boned hands on her arms, her shoulders, her breasts, awoke in her a desire to repeat the experience. And her fingers curled into admirable talons when the image of Letitia Winters came into her mind and she imagined how Aldeborough might be enjoying such intimacies with her. Frances abandoned any attempt to understand the logic in her thoughts. But she missed him.
In the week following Torrington’s unsettling visit, Frances was seated in the gold withdrawing room. She had abandoned Juliet, who for the past hour had failed to choose between a dozen hats for their afternoon promenade, and was passing the time perusing the pages of fashion plates in a new edition of Le Beau Monde. An evening creation in palest blue satin with a spangled gauze overskirt and deep ruching around the hem had just caught her attention when Watkins announced that, if her ladyship was at home to visitors, Mr Hanwell was awaiting her in the morning room. Her immediate response was to refuse. There was no one here to give her moral support—it would be so easy to have Watkins say that she was otherwise engaged. But that was cowardly and foolish, she told herself. Charles was her cousin and indeed had never shown her anything but kindness, even if it was of a superficial nature that would not bring him into conflict with his father. There was nothing here to disturb her.
Charles entered the room, ushered in by Watkins, and she rose to greet him. He was just as she remembered. Pleasing to look at, well groomed and dressed with propriety without being in the height of fashion, his fair hair fa
shionably cut, his hazel eyes warm and full of humour and with a smile of welcome on his face as he advanced towards her. He took her outstretched hand in his to draw her closer and took the liberty of close relationship to lean down to kiss her cheek. Frances found herself smiling with pleasure at seeing a familiar face in her new world.
‘Frances. How well you look. Town life obviously suits you—why, you have grown quite beautiful in the weeks since I last saw you. Are you enjoying being in the first stare of fashion? And a title to give you consequence!’
Frances’s unease quickly dissipated and she blushed at her own foolishness at being afraid to receive Charles. He was not like his father. She laughed with him—receiving compliments, she had discovered, was most acceptable.
‘Thank you, Charles. As you see, I am quite well. And I find that London is most entertaining—I had no idea.’ Struck by a sudden thought, she asked, ‘Did my uncle ask you to call?’
‘No, indeed. Why should he? I hardly need instructions to visit my own pretty cousin. I am in town for a few days and what better way to spend some of my time. Would you be insulted if I said that I never realised how attractive you are?’
He kissed the hand which he still had in his possession.
‘You flatter me, Charles. I am certain it has a lot to do with these new clothes.’ She brushed a hand over her primrose muslin with pleasurable appreciation, enjoying the open admiration in Charles’s face. ‘Please sit down. Can I offer you a cup of tea?’
‘Thank you, but no. I must not stay long.’ He hesitated, as if making a difficult decision over his next words, then fixed her with a serious and concerned gaze.
‘I don’t find this easy to say—but I believe my father may have upset you on his last visit.’ His eyes were full of sympathy. ‘It was something he said when he returned home that made me think … It did not seem to me that he dealt with you with the respect and care that you merited. I thought I should come to apologise for him. He only has your best interests at heart, you know. We simply want you to be happy and not to have been forced into something that would give you distress.’
