How to Marry a Royal Highlander

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How to Marry a Royal Highlander Page 4

by Vanessa Kelly


  Mamma had naturally forbidden Edie to ride in Hyde Park or even go for a stroll with her sister through the quiet streets of Mayfair. It was immensely frustrating because Edie would have no idea how bad things were until she had firsthand knowledge.

  She was about to gain that knowledge tonight at Lord and Lady Neal’s ball, one of the last big events before most of the ton decamped to the country for the winter.

  Edie flashed a bright smile at her twin. “Of course I’m ready. After all, how bad could it be?”

  She ignored the derisive snort from her mother’s corner of the carriage. Mamma seemed grimly prepared for battle. When she’d marched out to the carriage, Edie had almost fancied she’d heard trumpets sounding a charge.

  She’d been rather surprised that her mother was even joining them. Mamma had vociferously objected, still insisting that the best course of action was for Edie to pack her bags and flee town. Fortunately, Edie had managed to convince her father to give her a chance to prove to the rest of them that things weren’t as dire as they seemed. Mamma had finally capitulated on the grounds that obviously her daughter needed to see for herself “how bad things were.”

  That comment had sounded more like a threat than a boon, but Edie wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

  Lady Neal’s ball was always a squeeze, and tonight’s seemed more crowded than usual. In fact, as Edie stepped down to the pavement, she noticed a large knot of guests still jostling their way into the grand Berkeley Square mansion. Mamma had insisted they arrive late to avoid a crowd in the receiving line, but they’d clearly miscalculated.

  Either that or everyone had turned out to witness her public humiliation. A shiver of premonition danced along her spine.

  “When do you expect William to join us?” Mamma asked Evelyn as they made their way up the steps.

  “He should already be here,” Evelyn replied, slipping her hand through the crook of Edie’s arm. “He was to meet Captain Gilbride at White’s, and then they were to come over together.”

  “Ah, I’m glad to hear Gilbride will be present,” Mamma said, giving Edie a pointed look. “I’d like to have a little chat with him.”

  Edie swallowed a groan. Alec Gilbride was the last person she wanted to see after that humiliating episode in his library a few days ago. It had galled her to ask for his help in the first place, and it had infuriated her when he’d agreed to her mother’s demented plans. When Edie had recovered enough to demand an explanation, he’d said that he trusted Lady Reese’s judgment. If she felt her daughter needed to retreat from society, he was more than happy to offer his family’s hospitality. Their discussion had then devolved into the predictable argument, and she’d finally blown up at him, calling him a complete oaf. His laugh had prompted her to storm out.

  After she’d calmed down and reviewed their conversation, she still couldn’t deduce why he felt obliged to help her in any way. All Edie knew was that she didn’t trust him, despite the fact that he was the most handsome, most intriguing, and occasionally most charming man she’d ever met.

  Edie watched her mother square her shoulders before plunging into the crowd that was milling about in the entrance hall. After handing their wraps over to a footman, she and Evelyn followed Mamma to the staircase leading up to the ballroom. And although it was too chaotic and noisy to speak to anyone, Edie didn’t fail to notice the looks cast her way. Some were mildly surprised, some were openly disapproving, and several were nakedly malicious. Mamma, however, made a dignified progress through the crowd, nodding to friends and treating everyone else with magnificent disdain.

  “She is rather wonderful in situations like this, isn’t she?” Evelyn murmured. “I wish I had the knack for it.”

  Edie didn’t have the knack for it either. Yet, unlike her twin, she enjoyed socializing and found it immensely fun.

  Until tonight. She’d been convinced she could brazen it out, but her persistent prickles of foreboding would not go away. With each step she took up the staircase, her sense that she’d made a dreadful mistake grew stronger. She felt choked by the stuffy atmosphere, hemmed in on all sides by noisy guests, most of them reeking of snuff or alcohol or too much perfume. She could hardly draw in a breath, and for an awful moment she had trouble finding her feet. Her head swam.

  “Hang on,” her sister murmured, taking her elbow in a steadying grip. “The crowd’s easing up ahead.”

  Thank God for Evelyn. They’d always known how the other was feeling and even thinking. Her sister’s steadfast support at this moment made Edie realize all over again how much she missed her since her marriage to Wolf.

  “There’s Will,” Evelyn said, her face lighting up. “He’ll run interference for us and deal with anyone foolish enough to be rude.”

  Wolf stood at the top of the stairs. He murmured something to Mamma before she swept past, then smiled at his wife. “Hullo, love. You and Edie are both looking in prime twig. I’m a lucky man to have the privilege of escorting the two prettiest girls at the ball. Every other man will be insane with envy.”

  Evelyn laughed. “How silly, although I do agree that Edie looks splendid tonight.” She ran a quick, assessing gaze over Edie’s gown. “That color is divine on you, dear. It’s perfect.”

  “It should be,” Edie said. “Papa almost had an apoplectic fit when he got the bill.”

  She’d deliberately chosen her best gown tonight, a cerulean blue silk with an overskirt of gold netting. The blue brought out the color of her eyes, the gold matched her hair, and the cut framed her bosom to advantage and lengthened her short waist. It was a gown calculated to draw male attention and admiration. Edie knew she couldn’t count on support from most of the females tonight, but if she could attract anything close to her usual number of swains, she’d call the evening a success. She desperately needed admirers and supporters to survive the disapproval of the ton.

  “It was worth every shilling,” Wolf said gallantly as he offered his arm to Edie.

  She smiled gratefully as Evelyn took her husband’s other arm.

  Her brother-in-law bent down a bit from his tall height. “I have your back tonight, Edie,” he murmured. “If you need any help, come find me.”

  She squeezed his arm. “You’re a good man, Wolf Endicott. You might almost deserve my sister.”

  “Don’t bet on it,” Evelyn piped up. “I’m much too good for him, and he knows it.”

  Edie felt immeasurably cheered by their good-natured banter. With her twin and her brother-in-law by her side, she felt ready to brave the disapproving old biddies and anyone else.

  They joined their mother in greeting their hosts. Lady Neal, a handsome woman with a sharp mind and an even sharper tongue, flicked a hostile glance over Edie. “My word, Miss Whitney, I didn’t expect to see you here tonight. I was under the impression that you were recently indisposed.”

  Edie gave her a serene smile. “Thank you for your concern, my lady, but I’m quite recovered.”

  “Then I suppose we must count ourselves lucky that you could join us,” Lady Neal said coldly.

  “Indeed we are,” Lord Neal interjected in a jovial voice. “We can never have too many pretty girls at a ball, can we, Lady Reese? And I must say that both your daughters are looking exceedingly lovely.”

  Lady Neal sniffed haughtily.

  Mamma directed a gracious smile at her host. “Thank you, my lord. Come along, girls. We mustn’t waste another moment of her ladyship’s precious time.” Her tone of voice made it amply clear what she thought of her hostess.

  Edie gave Lord Neal a grateful smile as she passed by him. When he winked at her and then rolled his eyes at his wife, she had to bite a lip to keep from laughing. His lordship might be a bit of a roué, and he had pinched her bum on two occasions, but she’d never hold that against him again. It was a good sign that Lord Neal had publicly stood up to his wife—one of London’s most powerful hostesses—on Edie’s behalf.

  “Where’s Alec?” Evelyn asked
Wolf as they pushed their way into the crowded ballroom. “Didn’t he come with you?”

  Wolf nodded. “Yes, but Lady Monteith’s daughter practically dragged him onto the dance floor first thing. I imagine he’ll catch up by the time we go down to supper.”

  Edie didn’t know whether to be grateful or irritated. She dreaded running into the annoying man, but didn’t relish the news that Lady Melissa was still engaged in her single-minded pursuit of Gilbride.

  Not that she was jealous. Nor did she think Gilbride was keen on Melissa. He flirted with every woman who crossed his path, from the oldest grandmother to the shyest of debutantes, and Edie would never fault him for being kind to women who were often cruelly ignored by other men. What truly irritated her was the general feminine response to the man. There was barely a woman in London not ready to fling herself at Gilbride’s big feet, including a goodly portion of the married ladies. And he accepted all that adulation with good-natured arrogance, as if it were the natural order of things.

  Everything always fell right into Gilbride’s kilted lap, whether he wanted it or not.

  Wolf steered them closer to the orchestra and out of the thick of the crowd. The music made it difficult to talk though, and Edie suspected her brother-in-law had picked the spot for that very reason. She hadn’t missed the nasty glances as they’d strolled along the edges of the dance floor, but if anyone had made cutting remarks, she hadn’t heard them.

  After murmuring to his wife, Wolf went off to fetch them something to drink. Edie could only hope that some of her swains would soon appear to keep them company. She knew there would be some deserters tonight, the ones that only flirted with her because she was in style. Several, however, she considered to be genuine friends and had little doubt they would stand by her regardless of the gossip.

  Right now, though, no other guest stood closer than several feet away. It was as if someone had taken a piece of chalk and drawn a circle around her and Evelyn. Given how crowded the room was, some people practically had to step on each other’s toes to keep clear of their contaminating presence.

  “You’d think we were lepers,” her sister huffed. “It’s absolutely ridiculous.”

  “Never mind,” Edie said. “At least we can breathe, for once.” She stood on her tiptoes, peering back in the direction of the entrance. “What happened to Mamma?”

  “She got waylaid by Mrs. Eglin and Lady Johnson just inside the door.”

  “They’ll be giving her a lecture about me,” Edie sighed. “Poor Mamma.”

  Those two women were particular friends of her mother and were both exceedingly high in the instep. As such, they would feel it well within their rights to give Mamma unsolicited advice about her daughter’s scandalous behavior.

  Evelyn snorted. “Don’t worry about Mamma. She’s as snobby as they are. Of course, she’ll find it strange to be on the receiving end of a lecture instead of delivering it. I’m sure this is quite a learning experience for her.”

  “I only wish I wasn’t the reason for that experience,” Edie commented.

  Her twin winced. “You’re right of course. Sorry, pet.”

  Edie squeezed her sister’s hand. “I don’t blame you in the least. You’ve heard dozens of lectures on your behavior from Mamma over the years, and you never deserved a single one of them. It’s good for her to see what it’s like, for once.”

  Through a gap in the crowd, Wolf appeared carrying two dainty crystal cups. “Sorry, all I could snag was this watered-down punch. One would think a plague of locusts had descended on the refreshment table.”

  “That’s not surprising, since Lady Neal is a bit of a nip-cheese,” Edie said. “There’s never enough to go around, especially the champagne.”

  Evelyn ignored the cup in her husband’s hand as she peered out at the dance floor. A slight frown marked her brows.

  “What is it?” Edie asked. She followed the direction of her sister’s gaze, but all she saw was the usual swirl of blurred colors as the dancers circled the floor to the lively strains of the first waltz.

  “Nothing,” Evelyn responded brightly as she snapped her gaze back to her sister. “In fact, why don’t we go down and find a table for supper right now? I’d love a glass of champagne and something to eat. As you said, there won’t be any left if we wait.”

  The candlelight glinted off the lenses of Evelyn’s spectacles, obscuring her eyes. Still, Edie didn’t need to see her expression to know she was lying.

  “You don’t even like champagne,” she said drily. “Give over, Evie. What is it you don’t want me to see?”

  “Nothing,” Evelyn repeated before glancing at her husband. “Will, could you find Mamma? Edie and I will meet you in the supper room.”

  “Too late,” Wolf said in a grim voice. “The enemy approaches.”

  When Edie followed his gaze, she had to bite back a curse that no lady should ever think, much less know. Waltzing toward them, close enough for her to see, was the couple from hell.

  Sir Malcolm Bannister, coward par excellence, was dancing with the meanest girl in London, Lady Calista Freemont, daughter of the Marquess of Corbendale. Edie and her twin had been forced to endure Calista’s wretched company for two years at Miss Ardmore’s Select Academy for Young Ladies. Calista and her minions had made it their special project to torment poor Evelyn. Edie, naturally, had made it her special project to torment Calista right back. Their mutual loathing had never been a problem before, since most people didn’t like Calista but did like Edie.

  Did being the operative word.

  “Drat them both to perdition,” Evelyn growled.

  Edie dredged up a smile. “Evie, dear, please let me handle it. The last time you and Calista got in an argument, you dumped a plate of strawberry shortcake down the front of her gown.”

  “She deserved it,” her twin said.

  “Indeed she did, but we hardly need a scene like that tonight. Mamma would crucify us.”

  A moment later, Sir Malcolm swung Calista to a halt just in front of them. It was perfectly timed to match the conclusion to the music—so perfect that Edie knew Calista had planned it.

  “Goodness, how surprising,” Calista said, affecting a breathless laugh. “I just happened to be waltzing with Sir Malcolm when I caught sight of you, Miss Whitney, and I simply had to come over and say hello. I admire your courage in so boldly facing the censure of the ton. Especially after, well . . . you know.”

  She directed an arch look at her partner, who appeared to be expiring from death by humiliation. That Sir Malcolm was a cowardly tool for Calista’s revenge was apparent. Calista might be a monster, but she was also rich and beautiful. Sir Malcolm obviously had no intention of looking a gift horse in the mouth.

  Edie adopted the look of scornful amusement that never failed to irritate her nemesis. “No, Lady Calista, I’m afraid I don’t know. Perhaps you might care to explain.”

  Sir Malcom made a horrified whimper.

  Edie wondered why she’d ever wasted a moment on him. He was handsome in a polished sort of way—tall, with a nice set of shoulders and always impeccably dressed—but she’d failed to notice before the weak set to his mouth and the shifting gaze that never truly settled. In fact, he wouldn’t even look at her right now, obviously ready to take to his heels and flee as if a pack of wolves was snapping at his coattails. The man was a cad, and she’d been a fool to even consider dallying with him.

  The hot flush of shame staining her neck and cheeks was not because she’d kissed Sir Malcolm, but because she’d been so lacking in judgment to choose him in the first place.

  Calista let out an angry titter, obviously annoyed that Edie refused to play her ugly little game. “Really, Miss Whitney, how can you be so brazen? Everyone knows you acted disgracefully. I don’t know how you can stand to show your face in public, and your poor, dear mamma must be so humiliated.”

  “Oh, for God’s sake,” Wolf said, stepping forward to take Edie’s arm and lead her away.


  Edie shook him off. “You’re referring, I expect, to my alleged contretemps with Sir Malcolm. If such is the case, I have to wonder what you’re doing in his company. Aren’t you afraid your reputation will be tainted as well, Lady Calista?”

  The little harpy drew in a sharp breath to level a retort, but Edie cut her off. Unlike Calista, she knew exactly where to slip in the blade.

  “Your poor mamma,” Edie said, shaking her head. “Lady Corbendale must be devastated to see you reduced to this and not even Sir Malcolm’s first choice. Then again, given your inability to bring eligible suitors up to snuff, I suppose you must make do with fortune-hunters, loose fishes, and aging roués.”

  “Now see here,” Sir Malcolm said indignantly. “I certainly hope you’re not referring to me. I’m barely thirty-five years old.”

  Edie let out a disbelieving snort. Of all the insults she’d just leveled, that was the one that offended him the most? “Of course I’m referring to you, you bacon-brained fool.”

  “Edie, don’t,” her sister warned. “We’re attracting too much attention.”

  Edie cast a swift, angry glance around, noting that the crowd had moved in. They were obviously relishing the prospect of a juicy spectacle, like ancient Romans waiting for a bloody mauling in the arena.

  Among the group of watchers were several of Edie’s devoted swains, including a few she’d come to think of as friends. The expressions on their faces, which ran from coolly amused to avidly malicious, hit her like a kick to the gut. The stifling atmosphere of the overheated ballroom closed in on her, crazily warping her perspective as her head started to spin.

  Then the floor steadied beneath her, even though a red haze shimmered around the edges of her vision. In the middle of that haze was Calista’s beautiful face, twisted with hatred and contempt, like a princess gone wrong in a fairy tale.

  “Why, Miss Whitney,” Calista said, her voice ringing with the knowledge that her time of triumph had finally arrived, “surely you know that a woman’s reputation is her greatest prize. It is entirely her responsibility to safeguard it. Sir Malcolm cannot be blamed that you chose to throw yourself at him like a common trollop.”

 

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