The Wife Trap

by Tracy Anne Warren

  “Certainly, my lady. But the guests asked specifically for you. I took the liberty of putting them in the yellow drawing room.”

  Guests asking for her? How curious. She couldn’t imagine who it might be since she was not personally acquainted with any of the people arriving for tonight’s ball. True, she had organized the guest list and written out the invitations herself, but surely they would have asked for Wilda and not her.

  Obviously the footman must be in error.

  Well, it would be impolite to leave guests waiting on their own. She would see to their comfort and amusement until her cousin arrived.

  Nodding her thanks to the footman, who stepped aside after a bow, she exited the ballroom. When she reached the closed drawing room doors, she paused and checked to make certain her gown of spotted peach muslin appeared exactly as it ought. Shoulders straight, she entered the room and felt her eyes turn round and wide. She hung in the doorway, brass knob gripped in her hand as four familiar faces turned her way.

  “Violet!” she exclaimed, her voice pitching high in happy astonishment. A giddy laugh escaped her as she hurried forward into the room. “Dear heavens, is it really you? All of you. Here!”

  From her spot on the cream damask sofa, her twin met her look with a blue-green gaze, identical to her own except for the fact that Violet’s eyes were half hidden behind a pair of gold, wire-rimmed spectacles.

  “Yes, it’s true. We are all of us really here.” Violet grinned widely and laid a pair of hands over her pregnant stomach. “Including these two, who had absolutely no say in the matter.”

  Shifting forward, Violet started to rise. She made it a bare few inches upward before she lost her balance and plopped ignominiously back down onto the sofa cushions. Momentarily floundering, Adrian rushed forward to steady his wife and help her to her feet.

  Jeannette looked shocked. Violet had warned her she was large with child, but Jeannette hadn’t realized exactly how large. Violet’s belly protruded, round and ripe as a prized melon ready for exhibit at a country fair. To the casual observer, her twin looked on the verge of giving birth, but Jeannette knew she had another three months to go.

  At least carrying twins hadn’t caused Violet to retreat into her old unfashionable habits, Jeannette noticed. Violet’s carmine traveling dress very becoming, making her plump cheeks glow with radiance and beauty. On second thought, perhaps pregnancy was responsible. And a happy marriage, Jeannette concluded, watching Violet trade a warm look of intimacy with Adrian as he fussed over her.

  “Whatever are you doing here?” Jeannette chirped. “I had no idea you were coming.”

  “Did you not receive my letter? Well, clearly you did not or you would not be so surprised.”

  “I am surprised, delightfully so. Here, let me give you a hug.” Jeannette wrapped her arms around her twin, the both of them laughing when her embrace barely fit around Violet’s immense girth.

  “Don’t worry,” Violet said as they pulled apart. “Even Adrian can’t quite get his arms around me these days.”

  Jeannette’s smile sobered slightly as she turned to her brother-in-law.

  Tall, raven-haired and undeniably handsome, Adrian Winter, Sixth Duke of Raeburn, bore upon his broad shoulders with instinctive ease the responsibility of his position as one of the richest, most powerful men in England. A forceful presence, Adrian commanded any room he entered. Yet his true nature was one of quiet intelligence and shrewd regard, and many of his interests were far too cerebral for a young lady of Jeannette’s tastes. Amazing to consider then, Jeannette mused, that she had once been his fiancée. And were it not for her decision to back out of the marriage at the last possible second, she would still now be his wife.

  She breathed in, relieved that she was not his bride, despite her ridiculous attempt last spring to get him back. She cringed inwardly to think of her behavior then, excusable only in light of her despondency over being jilted by that scoundrel Toddy.

  But wisely, Violet had fought her for Adrian and won, correct when she’d pointed out that Jeannette had wanted him only for what he possessed, not for the man he was.

  And as irony and fate would have it, Adrian and her quiet, scholarly sister had truly fallen in love, suiting each other to perfection. How lovely to see them so vastly contented, so thoroughly enriched by their union. After all, Jeannette realized now, Violet was deserving of all the happiness she could possibly hold.

  “Raeburn.” Jeannette extended her hand, knowing better than to attempt a hug, with which neither one of them would have been comfortable.

  He made an elegant bow over her hand. As he straightened, he made a point of meeting her gaze. Lingering long enough to let her see the glint in his brown eyes, along with the silent warning that there were to be no tricks.

  She pulled her palm from his, shoulder muscles tight. What tricks could there be? Jeannette wondered, with her sister so hugely pregnant. Even if she still harbored an interest in exchanging places with her twin—which she no longer did, having learned her lesson quite thoroughly last spring—the deception would never have worked.

  If—and it was a great if—she somehow managed to tuck a large feather pillow under her dress, she still wouldn’t be able to add the two or three stone of weight her sister had clearly gained. It showed in Violet’s face and, most particularly, in her breasts, already swollen to an impressive size to accommodate the babies’ arrival.

  With deliberate forbearance, she forced her affront aside, far too happy to be among close family once again.

  Striving to remain pleasant, she turned to Adrian’s younger brother. “Lord Christopher.”

  A younger, sparer version of his brother, twenty-three-year-old Kit Winter was darkly handsome. His looks would have been dangerously appealing if not for the imp that winked back at her out of his irrepressible green-gold eyes.

  “Lady Jeannette,” he said on a nod.

  To a casual observer the greeting would have sounded fine, but she could detect the mocking undertone beneath. Whelp, she thought, remembering his overbearing treatment of her at last spring’s ball, a slight for which she had still not entirely forgiven him.

  She bit down the remark that rose to her lips and turned instead to acknowledge the last occupant of the room, a girl so ordinary and shy as to be nearly invisible.

  Eliza Hammond, her sister’s longtime friend. She was dressed, as usual, in an appallingly unattractive gown. Today’s shade—mud brown—was a ghastly foil for her mousey brown hair, gray eyes and pale, nearly colourless white skin.

  “Miss Hammond. How do you do?”

  Eliza cast a quick, almost startled glance upward and bobbed her head. “F-fine, Lady Jeannette. Thank you for inquiring. And yourself?”

  “I am tolerably well. Even better, I must say, now that all of you are here.”

  Jeannette paused, waiting to see if the other girl would offer further comment. But she did not, Eliza’s eyes cast downward to the fingers she had linked together in her lap.

  Deciding it easiest to simply move on rather than attempt to draw Miss Hammond out any further, Jeannette turned her attention back to her sister. “So, you haven’t told me. What are you doing here? Why have you come? Especially in your delicate condition.”

  The small frown on Violet’s face eased as she gazed away from her friend. She opened her mouth to speak, but Adrian stepped in first.

  “Yes, her condition is delicate,” he scolded in a soft tone. “The exact reason I tried to dissuade her from making this long journey.”

  “It wasn’t that long, particularly not since we came on your yacht,” Violet said. “An extremely comfortable craft that is rather like being inside a floating country house.”

  “Floating country house indeed,” he said, lips twisting with wry humor. “And what of the coach rides?”

  “Your coaches are exceptionally well sprung, daring the roads to do their worst. Besides, I wasn’t about to let you leave me behind, nor Kit and Eliza either, bot
h of whom were longing for an interesting change of scenery. It was my last chance to go anywhere since I’ll barely be able to waddle by this time next month, forced to remain inside our estate with your mother until the babies arrive.”

  “I thought you liked my mother.”

  “I’ve come to love your mother, you know that. But before my confinement begins, I wanted one last adventure.”

  “Ireland,” Jeannette declared in a lowering tone, “is no adventure.”

  “Oh, but it is,” Violet said, turning again toward Jeannette. “The drive here from Waterford was lovely, so green and verdant despite the season. But then, I have always enjoyed the country. Just as it has always been the city for you, which is precisely the reason we’ve come.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Violet grinned, barely contained excitement sparkling in her gaze. “Only ten days past, I had a visit from Mama and Papa. The three of us had a long talk, and after a while I was able to convince them how sorry you are for the embarrassment you caused—”

  A loud, derisive snort rang out from Kit’s direction.

  Violet shot him a quelling look to which he shrugged, clearly unrepentant. “As I was saying, the embarrassment and shame we both caused others with our imprudent, hurtful deception. Although I cannot pretend to be entirely repentant, considering the ultimate outcome.”

  She took Adrian’s hand in hers and gave it a squeeze, exchanging a long, tender look with him that spoke volumes.

  Violet resumed her story. “I know I hadn’t your permission, but I showed our parents a few of your letters to me to let them see what a quiet life you are leading now and how contrite you have become. Without too much more argument, I managed to persuade them to relent.”

  Jeannette clasped her hands between her breasts in sudden, hopeful anticipation. “Yes? And?”

  “And I have come—we have come—bearing the most wonderful news. You have been forgiven and may return home. We are here to take you back to England!”

  A bolt of delight surged through Jeannette, setting her entire frame atingle. Clapping her hands, she squealed and stamped her feet in a rapid dance against the carpeted floor, uncaring whether or not the reaction appeared ladylike.

  Racing for her twin, she enveloped Violet in a rapturous hug, squeezing her tight despite her sister’s bulk. “You mean I’m reprieved? No more prison? No more exile? No more Ireland?”

  “Well,” Violet said, “I would never call this lovely house a prison, but yes, you are free.”

  She released Violet. “Hooray, hooray and huzzah. Oh, you are the dearest, kindest, most wonderful sister anyone could have. I take back every cross word I’ve ever said about you and promise never to utter another to you again.”

  Violet laughed. “I shall hold you to that next time I turn up in your black books.”

  Jeannette waved a hand. “For this, you never shall again.” She did another improvised jig. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

  Home, she sang to herself. I am going home. Back to England, to civilization, where everything would once again be just as it ought. Where she would see her friends again, resume her place as a trendsetter among the young set. Oh, the parties and soirees and fêtes she would attend. A round of country visits this winter perhaps, then off to London for the Season in the spring. The very idea made quivers of glee race up and down her spine. She could scarcely wait, already envisioning how best to accomplish what was certain to be her triumphant return to Society.

  “Now that’s settled,” Kit said, “do you suppose someone could ring for tea? I, for one, am famished.”

  “Nuncheon is due to be served in a little over an hour.” Still floating aloft on a cloud of happiness, Jeannette launched into another series of questions for her sister. “So what exactly did Mama say? Does she seem eager to have me home again? And what of London? Did she mention a trip to London?”

  Violet smiled and with good grace began to answer.

  “But I am hungry now,” Kit complained after a minute.

  Jeannette tossed him a glance. “Then you’ll enjoy the meal that much more. Tea now will only spoil your appetite.”

  “It won’t spoil my appetite. The ham and eggs I ate this morning wore away hours ago. Not to worry, I shall be fully able to do justice to two meals.”

  Violet joined the discussion. “Actually, I could do with a light snack before nuncheon as well.” She laid a hand over her belly. “I seem to share Kit’s affliction these days and am forever hungry. The babies give me such cravings. I’ve quite driven our chef at Winterlea mad with all my requests. Lately, I’ve developed an alarming penchant for fresh fig pudding and pickled beets.”

  “Eaten together, if you can believe,” Kit interjected before making a humorously disgusted face.

  “They are delicious,” Violet defended. “Oh, and I cannot get enough steamed artichokes and lemons and bananas too. All of which are frightfully expensive and very difficult to obtain this time of year. Poor François. And poor, dearest Adrian, whom I awaken at all hours of the night.”

  “I don’t mind, my dear,” Adrian soothed. “The interrupted sleep or the increased appetite.”

  “What about the added pounds?” Violet questioned.

  “Just more of you to love, sweetheart. I believe I once told you a bit of weight would not bother me in the least.” Adrian slipped an arm around Violet’s back, drawing her close against his side.

  They gazed deeply into each other’s eyes.

  For an alarming instant, Jeannette feared Violet and Adrian were about to fall into a passionate embrace and start kissing right there in front of everyone. At the last second, the couple came to their senses and reluctantly broke apart.

  Adrian cleared his throat. “If we are to take tea, then you ought to be seated. Too much standing will only make your ankles swell.”

  “You never cared about your sister Sylvia’s swollen ankles,” Violet said.

  “That’s because I am not married to Sylvia. Besides, her ankles are not nearly so lovely as yours.”

  A solicitous hand tucked beneath her elbow, Adrian helped Violet return to the sofa.

  Kit crossed his arms, an expression of satisfaction on his face. “So? Shall you ring or shall I?”

  “Already done, my lord,” Eliza Hammond said in a soft, faintly breathless voice. “While you were conversing, I took the liberty.” She glanced quickly at Jeannette. “I hope you do not mind, my lady?”

  Jeannette blinked in surprise at the other girl, whom, to be quite honest, she’d forgotten was even in the room. She certainly hadn’t noticed Eliza move from her chair and cross to the far side of the room. Then again, she didn’t think anyone else had noticed either. Considering how timid the little thing was, Eliza’s independent actions seemed rather amazing.

  “No, not at all.”

  Kit turned a wide, beguiling smile upon her sister’s friend. “My thanks as well, Miss Hammond, for your gracious generosity.” He placed a dramatic hand across his chest, made her an elegant half bow. “If not for your quick-thinking actions, I would no doubt have soon grown faint from starvation. You have my undying and eternal gratitude.”

  Hot colour washed into Eliza’s cheeks, causing her skin to glow, a tremulous smile limning her lips. In that moment, she actually looked pretty, her eyes alight in a way Jeannette had never seen before.

  “You are very welcome, my lord,” Eliza replied on a near whisper.

  But Kit’s attention had already moved away, focused on the conversation his brother and Violet were having.

  Eliza’s gaze lowered, the attractive colour fading from her cheeks, as if they had been washed with snow.

  So that’s the way the wind blew, was it? Jeannette mused. Poor Miss Hammond. In love with a young man, who was nearly oblivious to her existence. Who was used to drawing the gaze of all the most beautiful, accomplished, eligible young ladies of the Ton. A man who would likely never see ordinary Eliza Hammond as anything but the shy, de
pendable, bookish friend of his sister-in-law.

  An unexpected curl of sympathy settled inside Jeannette and for the first time she felt honest sorrow for the girl.

  Ah, love, how cruel an affliction.

  A knock came at the door, one of the parlor maids entering the room. The girl curtseyed and bobbed her head, eyes going wide at the sight of such elegant company. Her eyes grew wider as they landed upon Violet, the maid’s lips parting as she looked between Jeannette and her twin. Then she fixed her sights on Jeannette. “Is there something you’d be needing, my lady?”

  “Yes. Please ask Cook to send up the tea tray as soon as may be. Pray also inform the housekeeper that extra rooms will be required. My sister and her husband have arrived, along with his brother and my sister’s friend. They shall need accommodations.”

  “Sure and it please you, your ladyship, but what’s to do? Nearly all the rooms have been taken for the other guests.”

  “More shall simply have to be found. I am sure Mrs. Ivory will know how to remedy the situation. The tea, please, Janey, if you would.”

  The maid bobbed again and hurried from the room.

  “What’s this about guests?” Violet inquired.

  Jeannette turned. “Our cousins are hosting an entertainment this evening. A ball. In all the excitement, it very nearly slipped my mind.”

  “Our cousins hosting a ball, hmm? And here I thought you were withering away from loneliness and boredom in the so-called wilderness.”

  “I was. I am,” Jeannette defended. “Tonight will be the first bit of Society I have enjoyed since my arrival.”

  “Leave it to you, Jeannette,” Adrian said, “to put together a party at someone else’s house while you are supposedly in exile.”

  “I am in exile and it’s been dreadful.”

  A small noise came from the doorway. Jeannette heard it, turned her head to find Cousin Wilda hovering there. She saw the look of hurt on the older woman’s face and cringed.

  Oh, dear.

  “Cousin,” Jeannette said, jumping in to cover the awkward moment. “Only look who has arrived. Come in, pray, and allow me to make them known to you.” Rushing forward, she drew Wilda’s arm through her own, lowering her voice to a murmur. “And please forgive my thoughtless comment of a moment ago. You surely know I wasn’t referring to you or Cousin Cuthbert. You’re both a delight, and I have so enjoyed my time here with the two of you.”