Scarlett shivered.
20
“Do you think it’s a bit much?”
Scarlett twirled in front of the mirror, the skirts of her gold dress with its silver trimming shimmering in the candlelight as she did so. Marion’s eyes widened as she watched her.
“Not at all,” she breathed. “You are glorious.”
Scarlett laughed. “Oh, don’t be silly. It’s not me — simply the workings of a clever seamstress and expensive, beautiful material. Now, tell me, do you have any plans for this evening?”
She grinned when Marion blushed, beginning to fiddle with the stiff black fabric of her dress.
“We’re to have a dance ourselves, downstairs, nothing too elaborate,” she said with a wave of her hand. “Though Rupert will be there of course, and oh, my lady, I have never met another like him before!”
“I take it all is progressing well, then?”
“I should say so,” Marion said before pausing. “Well, it was, although yesterday…”
“What happened yesterday?”
“Lord and Lady Rockingham arrived. Lady Rockingham’s maid is a comely one, she is. Rupert’s eyes looked as though they would fall right out of his head when she walked into the servant’s dining hall. And she was fairly high upon herself, I’ll tell you, being the lady’s maid of a marchioness and all.”
It seemed Marion was just as eager for Hunter’s parents to leave as Scarlett was herself. It was a wonder that both Hunter and Lavinia had turned out to be as warm and loving as they were. While Scarlett was pleased that Lord and Lady Rockingham had barely deigned to say more than a few words to her since they had arrived, it was difficult to watch the way they also practically ignored their own children. Hunter seemed resolved to the fact and went about his business, but Scarlett could see the crestfallen expression on Nia’s face when her mother had greeted her with a cold kiss, speaking to her only of the gossip of the day.
“They will be gone tomorrow, Marion, not to worry,” she said, sitting on the round stool in front of her vanity, kicking her foot on the floor so that she swirled around to face Marion, who now sat on the bed. “Besides that, I’m sure Spicer knows by now what a wonderful woman you are, and how lucky he is to have your affection.”
“I hope so, my lady,” Marion said glumly.
“Now,” Scarlett said, rising and striding over to her wardrobe. “What were you planning to wear for the dance?”
“My Sunday dress, as always.”
Scarlett looked over her shoulder at Marion, the grin returned to her face.
“Not tonight.”
She rustled through her assortment of dresses, finally finding an evening dress that would suit Marion’s coloring, allowing her to stand out while not being too extravagant. “You must wear this.”
“Oh, my lady.” Despite having dressed Scarlett in the garment many times over, Marion now looked at the fabric reverently. “I could never…”
“Of course you can!” Scarlett encouraged. “Pink suits you, and it is not overly elaborate. You will attract some attention, true, but just enough. It’s perfect.”
“Thank you,” Marion said, beaming at her. “I appreciate it more than you know. Oh, my lady, I wish…”
“Yes?”
“I wish you all the happiness in the world,” she said in a burst of emotion. “You’ve always been so wonderful to me, and I just hope that you and Lord Oxford truly find your love for one another so that you can be together as you were meant to be.”
Marion had barely spoken the words when she clapped her hand over her mouth. “My apologies, my lady, I should never have said that.”
Scarlett chuckled as she laid the gown on the bed. “It’s fine, Marion, and I appreciate your best wishes. We shall see what comes. Anyway, it should be an interesting evening, with both my mother as well as Hunter’s parents present at Lavinia’s party. What I need now is a spot of luck.”
“Good luck, my lady,” said Marion, gathering the pink gown in her arms. “And happy New Year.”
When Scarlett descended the stairs and rounded the corner, she was surprised to find the first drawing room empty. She peeked into the second drawing room, her gaze catching on Lord and Lady Rockingham. Oh dear. Had they seen her? Perhaps she could sneak— blast. Yes. Yes, they had caught sight of her. Scarlett sighed but forced her feet into the room, walking over to the chair across from them.
“Good evening,” she greeted them. Lady Rockingham nodded, while Lord Rockingham simply stared at her. Slightly disconcerted, Scarlett looked down at her hands before returning her gaze to them. While they didn’t speak to her, they seemed as though they were ignoring one another as well. Goodness, when was Hunter going to arrive?
“We are so pleased to have you visit us,” Scarlett said, forcing a smile to her face.
“This is my home, is it not?” Lord Rockingham said dryly, and Scarlett frowned but swallowed the words that threatened to emerge in retaliation.
“I suppose it is,” she responded as politely as she could, though she nearly choked on the phrase. “Have you seen my father recently?”
She knew the marquess was friends with her father, or an acquaintance at any rate. Apparently, she had asked the wrong question, however, for a look of undisguised rage cross the marquess’ face.
“No, he has not seen your father,” the marchioness said, finally speaking. She tossed a smirk at her husband. “But I have.”
Scarlett looked at her, puzzled. Why would the marchioness have seen him and not the marquess? Did they not run in the same social circles? And why was the marquess so angry— oh. Oh no. She couldn’t mean … but, apparently she did. Lady Rockingham smiled at Scarlett’s look of incredulity.
“Your father is an … old friend of mine as well,” she said, taking a sip of the deep blood red wine in her hand. “Isn’t that right, Spencer? Lord Rockingham has only recently realized this, my dear. Now, Scarlett, I am pleased that you are spending time with my son. You will be returning to London soon, will you not? You can hardly remain ensconced away alone in this horrid estate by yourself. Why, what will people say if you continue to send your husband off to London alone? It is also quite important that you beget an heir rather soon. It was why you married, was it not?”
“There’s not much else a wife is good for,” Lord Rockingham ground out, sending a glare his wife’s way.
“Excuse me?” Scarlett finally exclaimed, and both of them turned to look at her in shock.
“While I am much more inclined to say what is on my mind than the average lady, this is beyond acceptable. Why, my mother could walk into the room at any moment, and I would highly prefer she not listen to this nonsense you speak.”
“Your mother always was the delicate sort,” Lady Rockingham said with a sniff, and Scarlett threw up her hands.
“Hunter loves and respects the both of you,” she said in a low voice. “Be the parents he requires.”
“Are you finished?” Lady Rockingham asked, an eyebrow raised.
Scarlett actually had much more to say, but when she opened up her mouth to retort, she heard footsteps entering the room.
“Good evening,” her mother said softly from her place in the doorway on Hunter’s arm. “How lovely you all look tonight. Happy New Year.”
“Happy New Year, Mother,” Scarlett said, walking over and embracing her before casting a warning look at Lady Rockingham, who frostily ignored her.
“Scarlett, you look…” Hunter’s voice trailed off as his eyes began at her face, leaving a trail of fire as though he were running his hands over her. His perusal continued down to pause at her bosom, then traveled the expanses of her shimmering skirts, before his eyes finally returned to her face. He winked at her, which didn’t go unnoticed by the pair in the corner as Scarlett heard Lady Rockingham snort.
As they were already late as it was, they had no time for a drink but began to make their way outside to the carriage. As they did, Lady Rockingham affixed herself to
Scarlett’s side.
“Enjoy the infatuation he currently holds for you,” she whispered. “It does not last long.”
And with that she was striding down the hall ahead of the rest of them, her head held regally high, Scarlett watching her with narrowed eyes all the way.
Lavinia had outdone herself, creating a New Year’s party unlike anything Scarlett had ever seen before. While her home with Baxter was not nearly as large as Wintervale, she had an eye for beauty. And though the Tannon family had never recognized the Christmas season, they had always been sure to attend — or host — a New Year’s celebration. All attendees came in their best, and Lord and Lady Rockingham were never ones to shy away from showcasing their very finest.
And fine everyone was tonight. A couple dozen people were gathered in the ballroom, many having traveled a fair distance to be here tonight. Thankfully, the weather had held, the winds continuing from the south — which spoke of warm tidings for the year ahead, if Hunter recalled the phrase correctly. He could only hope, after the freezing winter they had endured so far.
None in attendance, however, were as lovely nor as fair as his wife. She shone brighter than any star above, and he noted a fair number of heads swinging toward them as they entered the ballroom. Lavinia fairly bounded up to them, welcoming them and urging them into the room. Baxter nodded at them, drink in hand and yet another unlit cheroot dangling from his lip.
It had been some time since Hunter had attended an event in the area, though he had seen many of the ton in London. Apparently, he and Scarlett — particularly together — were a novelty. It didn’t take long for him to be surrounded by men questioning him about the peace signings just prior to the Christmastide recess, and Scarlett excused herself with a smile, nodding to him before going off to join Lavinia, who was thrilled to introduce Scarlett to many of her friends who were not from the area.
Interestingly, Lavinia scarcely acknowledged her parents, who stood looking out over the ballroom, disdain apparent in their turned-up noses and cool glances which they passed around the room. When Lavinia did glance their way, Scarlett could read the hurt in her gaze, and she was determined to be as good of a friend — and sister-in-law — to Lavinia as she could. She also felt that it was time someone told them exactly of the consternation they were causing their children. When Scarlett saw her mother join the two of them, she decided she should join the conversation herself.
“What a lovely home your daughter has,” her mother was saying to the marquess and marchioness.
“It is well enough, I suppose,” said Lady Rockingham. “Why she insisted on marrying Baxter Shaw I will never know. A viscount is well enough but the man—”
“Loves Lavinia,” finished Scarlett. She didn’t care overly much for Baxter herself, but he did love Lavinia. They should be glad their daughter found herself in a happy marriage.
“Yes, well,” sniffed Lady Rockingham. “Love can only take one so far.”
It was one point Lady Halifax seemed to be in agreement upon, for she slowly nodded her head, a sad smile on her face.
“Hunter and Lavinia are pleased to have you here for the New Year’s celebration,” said Scarlett. “They have missed you.”
Lord Rockingham snorted as though speaking of such emotions was below him, while Lady Rockingham frowned at her. “They both found their place in life,” she said. “They no longer need their parents.”
“One always appreciates his or her parents,” Scarlett said, looking to her own mother, wondering what it would be like to live without her love. Even her father, whom she resented for his treatment of her mother, still loved her in his own way, and she never doubted that he would provide her with anything she might need, were she to only ask for it.
“Oh, don’t be so base,” Lady Rockingham said. “That is what nursemaids and governesses are for — children.”
Sorrow filled Scarlett’s breast at the thought of Hunter and Lavinia as children, ignored by their parents. She pictured them as they waited, every Christmas, for the gift of acknowledgment, with none ever coming. At the very least, they had always had one another.
“Ah, Madeline Lancaster is here,” said Lady Rockingham, changing the subject, a slow smile crossing her face. “Although of course she is, given that she and Lavinia have always been such good friends.”
“Yes, we met them the other night,” Lady Halifax said, offering no further information.
“I had always thought that she and Hunter … ah well, never mind,” said Lady Rockingham, turning an icy smile on Scarlett. “She chose to marry Jeremy Lancaster before Hunter was ready to marry himself, so we should no longer speak of it, should we?”
“She and Hunter are, in fact, on the dance floor at this very moment,” added Lord Rockingham, finally joining the conversation.
“Ah, so they are,” Lady Rockingham said with a smirk and a gleam in her eye when she looked at Scarlett. “They do look well together, do they not?”
Scarlett had tried to make peace with Hunter’s parents — she truly had. But she couldn’t take another moment of conversation with them. She took her mother’s arm in her own and steered her across the room. She could feel her mother’s eyes on her, but she didn’t want to speak to her of Hunter and the beautiful Lady Raymond. Hunter had told her that he was faithful and always would be, and she believed him. But that didn’t alter how much it hurt to see him laugh and flirt with another woman. Was this what she would be reduced to if she followed him to London? Watching from the sidelines while he lived his life as a treasured member of the ton?
She reached up a hand to tug at a curl, winding it around her fingers, as she couldn’t help but watch the two of them go around the ballroom. What was she to do?
“Be careful, Scarlett,” was all her mother said from beside her, as she laid a hand on her arm. “Please, darling … just be careful.”
21
Mercifully, all of their parents left early on New Year’s Day.
They had stayed at Lavinia’s until well into the first day of 1814. Hunter had found his wife in time for a kiss as the clock chimed midnight, though her kiss didn’t seem quite as urgent as usual. She seemed … distracted, though it was likely due to the many other guests nearby. He had also seen her talking with his parents earlier, which was always a recipe for disaster. He had been eager to take her home and celebrate in a much more private way with just the two of them.
This morning, in the light of day shining in through the window, he closed his eyes to recall her shimmering silver gown, so lovely on Scarlett, though he much preferred when it became a pool of fabric on the floor of his bedchamber. He had appreciated the glow of Scarlett’s pale skin, illuminated by the fire in the grate, even more than the lovely dress that so many at the party had commented on.
He was a lucky man, he had thought as he had fallen asleep the night before. A very lucky man indeed.
And now the house held only the two of them, alone together at last. He grinned as he rose from the bed after Scarlett scurried out of the room through the adjoining door to her own chambers, just as Spicer entered from the corridor.
“Good morning, my lord!” the man boomed, and Hunter brought a hand to his head. He had indulged in a few spirits the night before, and now Spicer seemed altogether too cheery.
“Happy New Year, Spicer,” he murmured, and his valet responded in kind.
“You seem … overly pleased this morning.”
“That I am, my lord, that I am,” Spicer responded. “All of my wishes for this upcoming year came true within the first few hours. I am to be married, my lord — married!”
“What?” Hunter came alert then, his eyes widening. “To the maid?”
“Marion Parker,” Spicer said, his eyes far away as he looked beyond Hunter and out the window. “Although … I suppose I should have spoken with you about it first, my lord. I know she and I are both in service to you and all…”
“It’s fine, Spicer,” Hunter said, shaking his head
with a grin as he reached out a hand to his valet. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you, my lord. Thank you very much!”
And now all Hunter had to do was convince his wife that the two of them belonged together as much as his valet and her maid.
“Oh, my lady, I wish you could have been there!” Marion was telling Scarlett the same story, though with a bit more detail, just a room away. “Well, not that you would have been to a servant’s gathering, of course, but—”
Scarlett held up a hand with a slight chuckle. “I understand your meaning, Marion. Continue, please.”
“Well, Lady Rockingham’s maid was there, of course, in what she thought, I’m sure, would be the most brilliant gown of all. But then, when I arrived in your gown, oh my lady, you should have seen how wide her eyes became! And she was practically hanging off of Rupert’s arm, but the moment I walked in, our eyes met, and I swear to you, that was the last either of us looked elsewhere for the entire night. When the New Year arrived, he kissed me, and then he knelt down in front of me and asked me to be his wife — his wife!” Marion’s eyes were filled with tears as she came over to Scarlett. “Would that be all right with you, my lady? If I were married, and to another of the staff?”
“Of course,” Scarlett assured her, her hands grasping Marion’s. “I only want you to be happy, and it sounds as though your Rupert makes you that way.”
“Oh, he does,” said Marion with a sigh. “He truly does.”
“You must know, however…” Scarlett trailed off, her gaze out the window at the snow-covered trees. “You may have to choose, Marion. I do not want to lose you as my lady’s maid, I truly don’t, but if I remain in the country while Lord Oxford is in London, if you stay with me, you may go months at a time without your husband. I’m sure we can find another position for you if you prefer, so that you can accompany him.”
Christmastide With His Countess Page 15
