by Mary Balogh
But Margaret had heard something else in her sister's earlier words. "Viscount Lyngate said you are beautiful?" she asked. "Last night," Vanessa admitted as she straightened the seam of her left glove. "He was being foolish." "He was being very /perceptive,/" Margaret said with feeling. "All is going well, then, Nessie?" Vanessa smiled into her sister's anxious eyes. He really had been very /foolish /last night. She did not know what had got into him. But whatever it was, it had left a glow of happiness in her this morning. He had commanded her to think of herself as beautiful - and she had promised during their nuptials always to obey him.
Foolish man!
She had woken early this morning as she had fallen asleep, warm and comfortable on top of him, his arms about her, her cheek cradled against his shoulder. And he had still been inside her, except that he had grown long and hard again. And, sensing that she had awoken, he had rolled her over onto her back without disengaging from her, and made swift love to her before returning to his own room.
For once he had not thanked her as he went. She was so glad.
She had not seen him since. Her maid had brought her breakfast in bed - on his orders apparently - and she had been in her dressing room ever since, her mood oscillating between excitement and a horrible anxiety. Her mother-in-law and Cecily had been in and out, observing the progress her maid had been making. Meg and Kate had arrived to see her on her way to court. Stephen had also come to the house. He was downstairs with Elliott. They were both going to court too. Elliott was going to present Stephen to the Prince of Wales at one of his levees. "Kate was right," Margaret said. "You really /are /looking lovely, Nessie. And it is not just the clothes. If Lord Lyngate has put that glow in your face, then I will forgive you for proposing marriage to him." "You did /what/?" Katherine looked at her with startled eyes. "We both knew he was coming to make an offer for Meg," Vanessa explained hastily. "Meg did not want him. I did. And so I offered him my hand before he could offer his to Meg." "Oh, Nessie!" Katherine's eyes brimmed with laughter. "How could you do anything so bold? But why did you not want to marry Lord Lyngate, Meg?
He is gloriously handsome among other assets. I suppose you felt that you must stay with Stephen and me a little longer." "I have no wish to marry," Margaret said firmly. /"Anyone."/ They were interrupted at that moment by the return of the dowager and Cecily. Cecily squealed with delight. The dowager looked upon Vanessa with approval and nodded her head. "You will do very well, Vanessa," she said. "We were quite right about the color. It makes you look youthful and delicate and really quite pretty." /"Beautiful," /Katherine said with a fond smile. "We have already agreed, ma'am, that she looks beautiful." "An opinion with which I fully concur," Vanessa said with a laugh. "Now if I can just contrive to keep my plumes above my head rather than over my eyes and not to fall all over my train while in Her Majesty's presence, I shall be entirely pleased with myself." "And /you /look lovely too, ma'am," Margaret said politely and quite truthfully.
Vanessa's mother-in-law was dressed in wine red, a shade perfectly suited to her dark Mediterranean coloring. She was to be Vanessa's sponsor this morning. "You do indeed, Mother," Vanessa said with a warm smile.
It was time to leave. It certainly would not do to arrive late for the most important appointment of her life.
The others stood back at the head of the stairs so that she could precede them down. She could see why as soon as she began the descent.
Elliott and Stephen were standing in the hallway, looking up. "Oh, I say, Nessie," Stephen said, admiration in his eyes. "Is that really you?" She might have said the same of him. He was dressed in a dark green well-tailored coat with gold-embroidered waistcoat and dull gold knee breeches. His linen was sparkling white. He looked taller, more slender, than ever. His hair had been tamed but already showed signs of fighting back. His eyes burned with the intensity of suppressed excitement.
But in truth Vanessa had less than half her attention to spare for her brother. For Elliott too was dressed for a court appearance.
He had not seen her court finery until now. But she /had /described the clothes to him. She had told him the colors. He wore a pale blue coat with silver breeches and a darker blue silver-embroidered waistcoat. His linen matched Stephen's in whiteness.
The pale colors that he wore looked nothing short of stunning with his dark Greek looks.
It was a pity, she thought, they would not be appearing together at court. But perhaps it was as well. Who would be able to drag their eyes away from him in order to spare her a glance?
He stepped forward to the foot of the stairs and held out a hand for hers. She set her own in it and laughed. "Look at us," she said. "Are we not all splendid indeed?" He bowed over her hand and raised it to his lips before looking directly into her eyes. "I suppose we are," he said. "But you, my lady, are beautiful." If he kept saying it, foolish man, she was going to start believing it. "I think so too," she said, batting her eyelids at him.
And then they were on their way, though it took a ridiculously long time to get the ladies and all their finery into the carriage. "I think after all," Vanessa said after waving to Margaret and Katherine and Cecily, "I am glad I was born in this age and not in one when clothes like this were worn every day." "I am glad of it too," Elliott said from the seat opposite, where he sat with Stephen, his eyelids half drooped over his eyes.
Was it possible, Vanessa wondered as she smiled back at him, that she was beginning to live a happily-ever-after? Not that she really believed in such a thing. But was it possible that she was to have a happy marriage? Was it possible that she could fall in love with her husband?
Well, of course /that /was possible. It had happened already, in fact.
It was impossible to deny it to herself any longer. Could she also /love /him, though?
More important, was it possible /he /could ever love /her/? Or at least feel something of an affection for her?
Did he already feel it?
This morning everything seemed possible. Even that she would not make an utter cake of herself in the presence of the queen.
And yes - this morning even happily-ever-after seemed possible. And even desirable.
Outside the sun shone from a blue sky. There were some clouds on the horizon, but they were too far away to cause concern. They would not bring rain soon enough to ruin the morning.
19
ALL went smoothly during Vanessa's presentation at court. She did not draw any undue attention to herself. She curtsied correctly without losing her balance or disappearing entirely inside her hooped skirt. And she backed out of the royal presence without once tangling her feet in her train.
In between times she gazed at the queen and wanted to pinch herself so that she could believe all this was really happening. She was actually in the same room as England's queen. The queen actually /looked /at her when she was presented and addressed a few remarks to her - Vanessa could never afterward remember exactly what was said.
It was a relief when the ordeal was over. At the same time, it was an event that Vanessa knew she would never forget even if she lived to be a hundred.
In the meanwhile Stephen had been presented to the Prince of Wales, who had actually engaged him in conversation for several minutes. There was nothing so very remarkable about that, of course. Stephen was the Earl of Merton after all. But it was still hard to believe.
How could all their lives have changed so drastically in such a short time?
It was a question Vanessa kept asking herself as she dressed for the ball in the evening - a real /ton /ball in London during the Season. The ballroom at Moreland House had been decorated to resemble a garden complete with masses of pink and white flowers and greenery. The twin chandeliers had been cleaned and polished and fitted with new candles and raised to hang below the coved, gilded ceiling. The air had been filled with enticing aromas all day as the supper banquet was being prepared. And a full orchestra of professional musicians was already in place on the dais when she descende
d to the ballroom after dinner to join Elliott, her mother-in-law, and Cecily in the receiving line.
Her brother and sisters had come for dinner, and Margaret and Katherine were in the ballroom before her. Margaret was wearing a gown of shimmering emerald green, Katherine a delicate muslin gown of white embroidered all over with tiny blue cornflowers. How different they looked from usual, how much more elegant and poised and… expensive. "I wish there were a more powerful word than beautiful," Vanessa said, looking fondly from one to the other of them. "You would both be that word." "Oh, Nessie," Katherine said, "do you sometimes long for Rundle Park as I sometimes long for my class of infants? This is all absolutely terrifying as well as being more exciting than anything else so far in my life." Vanessa laughed. Yes, sometimes she /did /long for home, though she was no longer sure where that was. The cottage in Throckbridge? Rundle Park?
Warren Hall, Finchley Park? The dower house? Perhaps home was really not a place at all but wherever one felt most sense of belonging. Perhaps home now was wherever Elliott and she happened to be together.
Oh, dear, she really must be in love. "I am very happy for you, Nessie," Meg said. "This is all yours, and you have a good marriage to go with it. It /is /good, is it not?" She looked at her sister almost pleadingly. "It is good," Vanessa said, smiling at her and daring to hope that she spoke the truth. Her relationship with Elliott would doubtless suffer numerous other growing pains, but surely the worst was over. The possibility for happiness or at least for contentment was surely there.
There was no time for further thought or conversation. The first guests were arriving, and Vanessa had to hurry to join the receiving line.
For the next half hour or so she smiled and exchanged greetings with a seemingly endless line of guests, most of whom she had not seen before.
All were the very cream of society. She tried desperately to commit faces and names and titles to memory, though she suspected it was a hopeless task. "You will get to know everyone soon enough," Elliott said, moving his head closer to hers during a brief lull in the arrivals. "You will meet the same people at almost every function you attend during the coming weeks." She smiled gratefully at him. Obviously he did not expect the impossible from her. He was looking enormously handsome in black and white again.
She would have told him so earlier when he appeared in her dressing room to escort her downstairs to dinner, but he had spoken first. He had told her how pretty she looked in pink. He had actually used that word - /pretty/.
She did not believe him, of course - or that she was beautiful. But it felt /so /good to hear the words anyway. She was starting to feel both pretty and beautiful in Elliott's presence.
If she had told him after that how handsome he looked, it would have seemed that she was merely feeling obliged to return the compliment. "I wish," he said now, "I could lead you into the opening set, Vanessa, but I must do that with Cecily." "Of course you must," she said. "It is /her /come-out, not mine. We have already talked about it. I can wait until later." But how lovely it would be… They had danced the opening set at the Valentine's assembly. "Come," he said when it seemed that all the guests had arrived, "I will introduce Lord Bretby and his brother to your sisters." "And then ask Meg and Kate quite pointedly in their hearing if they are engaged to dance the opening set?" she asked.
He looked at her blankly for a moment, and then there was a gleam of understanding and perhaps amusement in his eyes. "Ah," he said, "memories of Sir Humphrey Dew and a certain assembly at Throckbridge." "I wished," she said, "that a deep hole would open at my feet and swallow me up." "Dear me," he said, "was I such an undesirable partner, then?" She laughed and took his offered arm.
Lord Bretby and Mr. Ames needed no such hint. Lord Bretby solicited Meg's hand for the opening set, and Mr. Ames did the like for Kate.
How easy it had been, Vanessa thought. Her sisters were launched into society, and all /she /had had to do was marry Elliott.
Stephen was in attendance too. Everyone had agreed that it was quite unexceptionable for him to put in an appearance at a ball in his brother-in-law's house despite his youth. He was looking extremely handsome, Vanessa thought as she approached him with Elliott, and very intense. And he was attracting a great deal of attention. A number of the very young ladies in particular were eyeing him with considerable interest.
But the receiving line had been disbanded a little too soon, it seemed.
There was another couple just arriving. "Oh, famous!" Stephen said as Vanessa turned her head to look. "Here comes Cousin Constantine. And he has Mrs. Bromley-Hayes with him." Vanessa heard the sharp intake of Elliott's breath and looked up at him.
His eyes were fixed on the door-way. They were cold with rage. His jaw was hard set. "Oh, you /knew /he was coming, Elliott," she said, tightening her hand about his arm. "Cecily wanted him here. He was invited." "But /she /was not," he said curtly.
Mrs. Bromley-Hayes was wearing a shimmering gown of a golden fabric so diaphanous that it clung to every curve of her body and looked almost transparent. It was cut low at the bosom - as was the fashion, of course.
Perhaps it was only the magnificence of the bosom itself that made the fact more noticeable than it was with other ladies present. Her thick, shining blond hair was piled high and unadorned. It did not need adornment.
Vanessa sighed inwardly. And she had dared to feel pretty in pink? "We must go and greet them," she said, urging Elliott in the direction of the door. She smiled warmly in greeting. Constantine was a cousin and she liked him despite Elliott's warnings. "Ah, cousins," he said, bowing low. "I do apologize for being rather late. It took me a while to persuade Anna that she would be welcome here despite the fact that by some oversight she did not receive her invitation." "But /of course /you are welcome," Vanessa said, reaching out a hand to the lady. She had lovely hazel eyes, and Vanessa suspected that she had used some cosmetics to enhance the darkness of her lashes. "Do come and enjoy yourself, Mrs. Bromley-Hayes. The dancing is about to begin.
Elliott is to dance the opening set with Cecily since this is her come-out ball. I am going to ask Stephen - " But Constantine had lifted one hand, palm out. "Vanessa," he said, "do not, I beg of you, dance with a mere brother.
Dance with me instead." She looked from him to Mrs. Bromley-Hayes in some surprise, but the lady did not look in any way annoyed. She was smiling at Elliott. "Thank you, Constantine," Vanessa said. "That would be very pleasant.
But are you going to feel obliged to spend half your evening dancing with all your cousins, poor man? I know you have promised to dance with both Cecily and Kate, and they are unlikely to let you forget." "And there is Margaret too," he said. "I am the most fortunate man in the room, not being in need of an introduction to any of the loveliest ladies present. Has Elliott thought to compliment you on your appearance? You are looking very fine indeed." "He has," she said. "He has told me that I look pretty in pink." She laughed, half in amusement and half in embarrassment that she had said so in the hearing of a lady who did not need any reassurance. "And I like your hair that way," Constantine said. "You will excuse me," Elliott said curtly and abruptly. "I must go and lead Cecily out and get the dancing started." Vanessa turned her head to smile at him, but he was already gone.
Mrs. Bromley-Hayes was strolling away to join a group close by. "It was a horrible oversight on my mother-in-law's part not to have invited her," Vanessa said as Constantine led her onto the dance floor. "She said she had invited simply everyone." "Perhaps not /quite /an oversight," Constantine said. "Although Anna is a perfectly respectable widow, she also has something of a reputation for being sometimes, ah, overfriendly with certain gentlemen." For a moment Vanessa did not comprehend his meaning, but then she did and felt intensely uncomfortable. "Oh," she said. /Overfriendly. /The lady sometimes took lovers? It was no wonder the real sticklers of society, like the dowager viscountess, forgot to include the lady in their invitations.
Was Elliott aware of her reputation? But of course he
must be. Was that why he was angry, then? This was, after all, a ball in honor of his youngest sister, who was a mere eighteen years old. "It was naughty of you, then," she said, "to persuade her to come here with you, Constantine. Perhaps you ought to apologize to my mother-in-law." "Perhaps I ought," he said, his eyes laughing at her. "But you will not," she said. "But I will not." She tipped her head to one side and regarded him closely. He was still smiling, though there was that edge of something almost mocking in the expression that she had noticed on other occasions. And there was a suggestion of hardness there too though she had not noticed that before.
Constantine Huxtable, she suspected, was a very complex man whom she really did not know at all and probably never would. But he /was /a cousin and he had never been unkind either to her or to her siblings. "Why do you and Elliott hate each other so much?" she asked. Perhaps /he /would tell her. "I do not hate him at all," he said. "But I offended him, you see, when Jon was still alive. I used to encourage the boy to tease him, not realizing that he would take the whole thing so seriously. He used to have a sense of humor before my uncle died and left him with so many responsibilities. He used to be up for all sorts of larks. But somewhere along the way he lost the ability to laugh at himself - or at anything else for that matter. Perhaps you will help him regain his sense of humor, Vanessa. I do not hate him." It all sounded very reasonable. But as she stood in the line of ladies and watched him take his place opposite her, she could not help feeling that there must be more to it than that. Elliott was moody and often irritable and downright morose. She herself had accused him of lacking a sense of humor. But he would surely not still hate Constantine with such passion just because once upon a time Jonathan had been encouraged to make something of a fool of him.
