The Viscount's Bride (Love's Pride Book 2)

by G. L. Snodgrass

  “Good, I am glad. We should hurry, though. There is a difference between fashionably late and just plain late.”

  Without thinking, she turned and reached up to pull his head down so that she could kiss him on the cheek.

  “Thank you,” she said. Her eyes had become misty, but she did not turn away. Instead, she looked deep into his. Trying to let him know how much the jewels meant to her. Not only the jewels but the fact that he had thought of her.

  He swallowed and nodded. “Yes… Well. Let’s be off. Johnson! My Lady’s cloak.”

  She caught a strange look behind her husband’s eyes. Something had worried him. No, something had frightened him. She wondered what it could be. All she had done was thank him. Why had that seemed to discombobulate him as if he didn’t know how to react?

  Caroline let Johnson slip on her cloak and thanked him as she placed her arm into her husband’s. It would not go well tonight she knew. No Duchess like to have uninvited guests. But they would face it together. At least she would have that, she thought as her heart raced.

  Trust him he said. How could she not?

  Don’t let them see your fear she reminded herself. Don’t worry daddy, I won’t, she said to herself.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Caroline secretly rubbed her sweaty palms on the carriage seat. She didn’t want Alexander to see how nervous she was. Not only was this her first ton party. But she was not supposed to be there.

  The lack of invitation really bothered her. It seemed rude of Alexander and herself somehow. As if they cared so little for other people’s feelings.

  If the Duchess of Bathurst had wanted her at her party, she would have invited them. It really was that simple. Since no such invitation had been given. That meant she and Alexander were not wanted.

  To ignore that seemed the most loutish behavior she could imagine.

  Alexander, of course, seemed oblivious. He had talked a little about his trip to the Lake District and his need to make a visit to Cornwall. And another to Wales next spring.

  Did the man ever rest? Or did he have women spread out across Britain? All in need of his special attention. The nasty thought popped into her head before she could stop it.

  Her hand instinctively went to her throat to touch her necklace.

  He smiled down at her and said. “You look beautiful. The necklace only enhances that beauty.

  She felt her cheeks grow warm and became lost in his eyes for a moment. Was he going to kiss her here? Her heart began to race with anticipation.

  The carriage, however, rocked and came to a halt.

  “It appears we are here,” Alexander said.

  She was going to kill Jake the Coachman. Couldn’t he have taken a just a little longer?

  Hampton held the carriage door as Alexander helped her down. Her stomach tightened into a knot as she looked up at the ducal mansion. A liveried footman dressed in red and gold with a powdered wig manned the front door. Eyeing them like they were foreign invaders.

  Taking a deep breath, she place her hand on her husband’s arm and slowly ascended the long steps.

  Her breath hitched when the doorman gave them a quick glance. Paused for a moment, then swiftly opened the front door and bowed. Sweeping an arm forward, bidding them to enter.

  They were in. Caroline wondered if that was a good thing. Maybe it would have been better if they had been denied access at the front door. Less embarrassing.

  The greeting line had already broken up. The Duke and Duchess having left to attend to their guests. Caroline sent up a silent prayer of thanks. Obviously, being late had its advantages.

  The mansion was large. Even larger than Alexander’s house. Music washed over her from the distant ballroom. A glittering glass chandelier with a dozen candles hung over the foyer.

  Caroline swallowed hard and tried to smile. Alexander patted her hand and whispered.

  “Trust me,” he said.

  Taking a deep breath, she allowed him to escort her to the ballroom.

  A moving wall of color and noise greeted them as they reached the ballroom open doors. Men and women were dancing in an organized march. Couples traipsing through the line of dancers to be followed by another.

  Blues and reds, purples and light greens. A dozen different ball gowns, each more beautiful than the next. The men were tall and handsome. With straight backs and smoky eyes.

  A ton ball, she thought. So this was what they were like. Her heart raced as she felt an overwhelming urge to flee. She didn’t belong here. She was a Dorset Fisherman’s daughter. These people didn’t want her there.

  She glanced up at Alexander, hoping for some kind of sign that he too wanted to leave. Unfortunately, the man was frowning. He looked like a soldier examining a field of battle.

  Was he ever happy? This had been his idea after all. She had been perfectly willing to remain at home. Of course, she would never succeed socially if she couldn’t master something as simple as attending a ball.

  She, however, wished it had been one she had been invited to.

  “There,” Alexander said as he nodded his head to indicate the other side of the room.

  Caroline looked to where he had indicated. A group of people in the far corner had gathered as they watched the dancers. The man was rather tall, his hand resting on a walking stick. His proud bearing spoke of the commanding air of a former soldier. That had to be the Duke.

  His eyes continually scanned the room as if looking for any interlopers or disagreeable guests. Her insides turned over when she thought of how he would react to his latest arrivals.

  Next to him a very pretty young woman in lavender smiled at a passing couple. Obviously his wife, the Duchess. She looked sweet and warm. Much younger than she had imagined. Not at all what she expected a Duchess to look like.

  Caroline prayed the woman would be able to temper her husband’s anger when he found out about their attendance to his ball.

  Beyond the Duchess another couple and then a very large man with a bushy mustache. The big man could have passed as a Cossack, she thought. He looked out of place for such a gala event. As if he would have preferred to be at the local pub. Maybe he was the Duke’s bodyguard. Did Dukes have bodyguards?

  “Our hosts,” Alexander said as he began leading her that way.

  He intended to announce himself, she realized. There would be no quiet standing to the side. No blending into the crowd. This was to be a full frontal attack.

  Why was she not surprised?

  Taking a deep breath, she allowed herself to be led towards the group. On their way, she saw several people looking at them in surprise.

  She noticed the eyes drawn to her necklace. Was it too much? Had Alexander’s gift brought unwanted attention?

  She had to resist the urge to bring her hand to her neck to ensure that it lay correctly. Instead, she raised her chin and braved their stares. Don’t let them see your fear she kept repeating to herself. If anytime she had needed her father’s admonition this was the moment.

  Speaking of which. What would these people think if they knew of her father’s secret? Maybe someone here did. Had someone from the ton sent the note? Were they at this very party? Her mind grabbed onto one more thing to worry about.

  As they crossed the room, Caroline held her breath. Several of the women openly admired Alexander. Their eyes traveling up over his well-muscled calves to his tight jacket then smiling when they reached his face. She couldn’t blame them but still she felt a pang of jealousy. He was her husband, she wanted to shout at them.

  One of the women, a redhead in a forest green gown smiled knowingly at Alexander. He returned her smile and nodded a slight greeting.

  A former lover? Caroline wondered. Her jealousy turned to anger. Once the woman was assured that Alexander’s attention was elsewhere. She shot Caroline a look of pure hate. Caroline had seen that look before, but never so blatantly. It was as if the woman wanted her to know that she was despised.

  “Who is
that?” She whispered as she gripped Alexander’s arm a little tighter.

  “Lady Sinclair. An acquaintance,” he said without taking his eyes off their intended goal. “In fact. She was the first person I told when you accepted my proposal.”

  Ah, no wonder the woman hated her. The fisherman’s daughter had won the prize that was the Viscount.

  Caroline forced the hurt feelings back down as she prepared to meet their hosts. None of it mattered she realized. In a few minutes, they would be the laughing stock of the night and she would never see these people again.

  Alexander brought her to rest directly before their hosts and bowed slightly.

  “Beachmont,” The Duke said as if that was all anyone needed to say on the matter.

  “Bathurst,” Alexander replied.

  Caroline cringed internally. Why hadn’t he addressed the Duke correctly? Even she knew the proper protocol.

  The pretty Duchess looked back and forth between the two men. Her eyes narrowed as if expecting an explosion.

  The two men stared at each other for a moment then the Duke broke all character by reaching out and grabbing her husband’s hand then pounding him on the shoulder.

  “My god man. It is good to see you,” The Duke said. “I thought you abhorred London. Swore to never grace our fair city.”

  “Swore he’d rather make Napoleon’s tea if it meant he didn’t have to come to London,” the big Cossack next to the Duke said as he pulled Alexander into a bear hug.

  “Good to see you, Captain,” the big man added as his large hands pounded Alexander’s back.

  “I heard him say once” The third man said as he stepped forward to shake her husband’s hand. “That the only things London offered were wine, women, and song and that better versions could be obtained elsewhere with less noise and lower cost.”

  Caroline was lost. Who were these people? A quick glance at the other women told her they were just as confused.

  The men continued to greet each other, pumping hands and pounding backs. It was almost as if they were each trying to see who could do the most damage.

  “Have you seen St. James, he should be here,” one of them said.

  “I don’t know if I want Lord Hudson St. James within a dozen feet of my wife,” Alexander said. The men laughed and nodded their heads in agreement.

  “I saw him in Whitechapel last month. He’s taken rooms there,” the third man said.

  “Why were you in Whitechapel,” his wife asked with a surprised expression.

  “Government Duty,” he whispered then turned back to the group. Obviously not wanting to discuss it further.

  Caroline’s head spun. Who were these people and how did Alexander know them.

  Alexander finally remembered where he was and who he was with. He stepped back for a moment and took her hand. She drew strength from his touch. Her heart continued to race as she desperately tried to decipher what was going on.

  “My dear, may I present His Grace and Her Grace, the Duke and Duchess of Bathurst. My Grace, may I present Caroline Vessey, Countess Beachmont.

  Caroline immediately dropped into a curtsy and lowered her head. But not before seeing the opened mouth shock on the Cossack’s face and the smirk on the third man’s. His Grace, however, hid his surprise well.

  “Welcome my dear,” he said as he reached down to help lift her from her curtsey. “Please forgive our exuberant show of emotion. Very bad form. But then, we are but soldiers at heart. Welcome.”

  Caroline looked up into his eyes and truly saw welcome. They weren’t going to ask her to leave. At least not yet. She shot her husband a quick glance. Would the man ever cease to amaze her?

  He saw her questioning look and said “My former commanding officer, Major Thomas Marshal.”

  Duchess Bathurst interrupted Alexander. She smiled at Caroline with kind eyes as she reached out to take both of her hands.

  “Welcome,” she said. “May I call you Caroline? And you should call me Gwen. I do so hope we can be friends. There are so few people who can tolerate my husband. I find that I must befriend those that can.”

  The twinkle in her eye belied the sting of her words. A quick glance at the Duke revealed a man totally and completely in love with his wife. How had the woman done it? Enrapture such a stern formidable man?

  Caroline curtsied again and said. “Of course, Your Grace.”

  “Gwen,” the Duchess gently reminded her.

  “Gwen,” Caroline said. Unable to believe that she was on a first name basis with a Duchess. Her father would have been beside himself.

  The Duchess introduced Viscount Somerset, - The third man - and his wife, Arabella.

  Lady Somerset was a beautiful blond who looked and acted as if she were born to the role. At last. A fellow Countess. I will watch her. I will learn from her, she thought.

  “And this gentle giant,” The Duchess continued, indicating the Cossack looking giant next to her. “Is our Sergeant Major Bowen.”

  The big man came to attention, bowed at the waist and said, “At your service, Ma’am.” His slight Welsh accent put to rest the idea he was a true Cossack.

  Caroline immediately liked him. The twinkle in his eye let her know that he didn’t take things too seriously. He could see the silliness of all this pomp and circumstance. But, at the same time, she had the feeling this man would walk through fire for his friends.

  He smiled at her, then leaned forward and gently whispered. “If your husband ever gives you problems. Ask him about the spiders of Songlhal. And what happens to young men who misbehave.”

  Caroline caught a brief look of fear cross her husband’s face as he shuddered.

  “Be careful Sergeant Major or I will start to discuss Madrid,” Alexander said.

  The big man threw back his head and laughed. The hearty laugh of a man happy with the world. “The difference My Lord. I have no pretty young wife to impress.”

  The Sergeant Major’s laugh slammed to a halt when Her Grace said, “We will have to remedy that.” The look of surprise and fear on his face was priceless.

  Caroline found herself smiling. These people were normal. Not at all as she had feared. Careful, she told herself. First looks could be deceiving.

  She was still a Dorset fisherman’s daughter she reminded herself. A woman with a terrible secret.

  “I don’t remember receiving an invitation to your wedding,” The Duke said to Alexander. “Did we?” he asked his wife.

  “No, I don’t believe so.”

  Alexander swallowed hard. “It was a quiet affair. We were married at Armherst just six weeks ago.

  The Duchess frowned. “Strange. I don’t remember seeing an announcement in the Times. Did you Arabella?”

  Lady Summerset shook her head. “No. Not that I can recall.”

  Alexander's face turned a subtle shade of white. Caroline wondered what could have affected him so.

  “Um. I may have been negligent and forgot to inform the Times. After the wedding, I had business up North. Caroline and her sister’s opened the house here in London. I have just recently returned.”

  He looked as if he were sinking into quicksand with no way out. Caroline found that she liked the idea of him being embarrassed. It made him appear more human. More vulnerable. Her big strong husband was not without his faults.

  Good. She could work with that.

  “What? You left her alone here in London all this time without telling anyone she was your wife.” The Duchess rolled her eyes as if to say ‘Men’ what were you going to do with them.

  “Oh, you poor dear,” Arabella said. “Whatever have you been doing with yourself all this time?”

  Caroline smiled internally. It hadn’t been her they shunned. People hadn’t known.

  “Come my dear. I want to introduce you to some people.” At the sudden look of worry on Caroline’s face, the Duchess smiled and said, “Don’t worry, I know exactly how you feel. It is a shame Aunt Celeste is not here tonight. She would so love
this situation.”

  Caroline’s world became a whirl. Spinning and sliding side to side as Gwen and Arabella took her away from the security of her husband’s presence.

  “Don’t mind them,” Lady Arabella said indicating the men they had just left. “They will spend hours talking about war and horses. We have much more important matters to discuss.”

  “Yes,” Her Grace said taking her hand. “Like where did you meet your husband? And how did you ever convince him to marry you. Stories my Thomas told me of Captain Vessey would have led me to believe such a feat was near impossible.”

  Both Gwen and Arabella looked at her eagerly waiting for all the juicy details. Caroline found herself enveloped in their kindness as she told them of Alexander saving her from the River. His garden proposal. The whirlwind wedding.

  Both women found it romantic and looked at her with admiration. A small pang of guilt worked through Caroline as she consciously decided not to inform them of her prior financial difficulties. Her Dorset roots. Or the fact that it was a marriage of convenience.

  She didn’t hide the fact but didn’t exactly volunteer the information either.

  Some things were best left unsaid.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Alexander watched his wife on the other side of the room. She has done well tonight, he thought. Handled his boisterous friends with aplomb. Settled in with the ladies of the ton.

  Besides. The fact that she was the most beautiful woman there couldn’t be denied. Yes, he was pleased. Glad that they had come. For a London ball, it hadn’t been too bad.

  Of course having his friends there made all the difference. He did, however, notice a shift as people discovered he was married. The looks from women had changed.

  The young, single ladies had immediately lost interest in him. He wondered if this was what getting old felt like. As if you were of no longer any importance to the younger crowd.

  At the same time. Several married woman, however, had given him the come-hither look of interest. One of them even as she stood next to her husband. Marriage it seemed, while it closed some doors it opened others. Who would have known?