He grinned, his hair falling over his face. ‘That, my dear, was for ever.’
She smiled. ‘I like the sound of that. Very much.’
Chapter Eleven
Friday June 20th
Brockmore Manor House Party
Programme of Events
Annual Midsummer Treasure Hunt
A Celebration of Russian Cuisine with
Dinner served in the Maze
‘Lord Markham is undecided.’
The duke’s words fell in the quiet of the study where Zara sat with her mother, taking a private breakfast with Brockmore himself, Friday morning. Zara found the pronouncement quite optimistic. If Markham was undecided, it certainly helped Kael’s case, one he’d have to make very soon now that things were decided between them. The thought brought a smile to her face. No doubt, her mother did not view the news with the same equanimity. But she gave nothing away as she played with her croissant. Chef Salois, the duke’s French cook, made exquisite croissants and served the richest of hot chocolates, but this morning it appeared her mother had little appetite for them.
Zara could see her mother was already scheming how best to play her reaction to the news. ‘I don’t understand his reticence,’ her mother said coolly. She could not appear to be desperate or disappointed even if she was both, and even if the duke knew how important a match for Zara was this week, preferably one with Markham. Giltner had been a reserve, a back-up measure only. That he had gone to Catherine Downing had been no real loss.
The duke gave a shrug. ‘Who can say what goes on inside a young man’s head?’ He turned to Zara. ‘Markham certainly is interested. However...’ the duke paused here and gave her a meaningful look ‘...he feels you do not return his regard to the same degree whereas Miss Falk is more amenable.’
‘Miss Falk!’ Her mother did not attempt to hide her disdain.
The duke explained patiently, unfazed by her mother’s comment, ‘Markham has made it clear he will leave here with a match. He must. He needs a wife at Daunton. He cannot delay. It will be Ariana or Zara. He is waiting for a sign.’
Zara’s mind raced. This was a boon! The path to Kael was becoming wider if she could use it. Perhaps even the duke could be an ally to persuade her mother. Beside her, her mother pasted on a smile, her next words dangerous. ‘If Zara does not take Markham, who do you suggest?’ Of course her mother would word it that way. Never would she let it be said that Markham had decided not to take Zara. If he chose Ariana, her mother would make sure everyone understood it was because Zara had simply let him go. ‘Colonel Kennedy, perhaps? Or Brigstock? Surely he’d prefer Zara to the Kilmun girl.’ It was positively dizzying how fast her mother had partnered her off again.
The duke shook his head and Zara felt herself breathe again. ‘Not the colonel. There is much unresolved there, I think. His path may not be the one we hope for him. And Brigstock? Would you really throw your daughter to a man whom she doesn’t know, Helene? I don’t think she’s spent more than five minutes in his company the entire week.’
‘Who else is there, Brockmore?’ Her mother’s voice was edgy, worried. ‘Certainly not Farthingale or that prudish chit he’s cozied up with this week. I will not stoop to that level just to see Zara married. Farthingale is a bastion of bad fashion. Money can’t buy looks in his case.’
Zara had had enough. Now that she knew the direction of this conversation, she wanted a stake in it. It was her future after all and she’d been fighting for it all week, discovering it. ‘Kael Gage. I could marry him.’
The duke leaned back in his chair, hands steepled as he studied her, assessing her recommendation with shrewd eyes.
‘The upstart? The uninvited rogue? Zara, you can’t be serious. We have talked about this.’ There was warning censure in her tone. ‘We will not consider such a match.’
‘We don’t have to consider it, only I do,’ Zara said hotly, watching her mother’s face pale at the insult.
The duke leaned forward. ‘They have been spending a lot of time together. A lot.’
‘No, Marcus. Zara is young, impressionable and the last three weeks have been very difficult.’ Oh, this was interesting now. Her mother and the duke were using first names. If she hadn’t such a heavy stake in the outcome, Zara would be fascinated by the interplay. She doubted anyone else at the party would dare to call the duke by his Christian name. But of course, her mother and the duke and his wife had all been on the town together in their youth.
‘It’s more than that, Helene,’ the duke said softly, but did not elaborate. ‘Gage isn’t a bad choice if she cares for him. He has a small horse farm and he’s kind to his sister. If Zara takes him, I’ll see to it that his sister marries a nice gentleman farmer and your husband is powerful enough, he can make Gage respectable.’ He paused. ‘Love is no small consideration, as you well know, or have you forgotten Richland?’ He smiled gently, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he rose and began to pace.
‘Marcus. Don’t,’ her mother cautioned, eyes narrowed. But the duke would not be stopped.
‘Zara, when we were young, your mother had a suitor. Richland was mad for her.’ He shot her mother an aside. ‘I thought you were mad for him too. I was surprised when you picked Aberforth.’
‘My parents preferred Aberforth,’ her mother replied quietly. ‘It turns out they were right.’ Her words were for Zara ‘Your father has given me two children and a life of luxury and prestige.’
‘And passion, Helene? Has he given you that?’ the duke enquired boldly.
She gave the duke a withering look. ‘He has given me something more valuable, Marcus. A girl is entitled to her fling, perhaps, as long as it is discreet and does not jeopardise her opportunities.’ Zara felt her mother’s gaze on her. ‘His Grace wants to appeal to the emotion of romance with that memory, but I suggest you see it as a cautionary tale about young foolishness, a foolishness you can avoid, my dear girl. Markham is not lost yet.’
Her mother smiled at the duke serenely as if they had not tussled, as if her own daughter had not contradicted her in front of another. ‘Must we decide today? Perhaps this could be delayed.’
‘I am afraid we must,’ the duke said slyly. Zara had the sense he was pushing for something. ‘The treasure hunt is this morning. I am pairing couples together, as an opportunity to solidify the matches before the ball. I want Markham to be reassured.’
The viscountess rose. ‘Pair her with Markham, give him the sign, then. Markham will not regret it.’
The duke rose, his eyes fixed on her ‘And you, Miss Titus? What do you prefer?’ Only a duke would gainsay her mother. Her heart beat fast. This was her moment. What was the duke playing at, pitting her against her mother? She couldn’t worry over that. She could only do what was best for her and for Kael.
‘I prefer Kael Gage, your Grace. Thank you for asking,’ she said evenly although she trembled inside.
Her mother immediately overrode the declaration. ‘You must excuse her, Marcus. Zara knows a girl must be practical, more practical even than a man when it comes to marriage. She will see reason.’
The duke smiled and bowed, his gaze enigmatic. ‘We’ll see if she does. Care to wager on that?’ The moment of truth was here, or if not here precisely, rapidly approaching and Zara was ready for it.
* * *
At the stroke of ten, the duke entered the drawing room and held up the list, a gesture that signalled for silence. All the guests lowered their voices to excited whispers. No one would dare miss this gathering, some standing together with who they hoped their partner would be, others, like she and Kael, standing circumspectly apart.
The distance didn’t bother Zara. She and Kael were together in all the ways that mattered. An enormous sense of calm had come over her when she’d left the duke’s study. What was done could not be undone. She like
d knowing that. There was security in the knowledge that she was Kael’s and he was hers. It did not mean there weren’t some rough patches to be navigated, but they would navigate them together.
Zara smiled to no one in particular. It was a beautiful morning. The doors were open to the rose garden, catching the cool late-morning breeze and spirits were high. The treasure hunt itself was a much-enjoyed annual Brockmore tradition, the prize always something grand. This year it was to be a raw diamond and the hunt would last well into the afternoon. But it was more than the hunt and the good weather that inspired the levels of excitement in the drawing room. The party would end tomorrow night. The time for offers was drawing near and the duke’s list of partners, chosen by him alone, was an unofficial seal of approval. In short, it mattered who one was paired with. Would the duke honour her wishes or her mother’s?
The duke cleared his throat and smiled fondly at the guests, his eyes laughing at their impatience. ‘The teams for the treasure hunt will be as follows: Verity Fairholme and Colonel Kennedy, Mr Giltner and Miss Downing, Mr Addington and Miss Canby.’ The list went on. Zara was only half-listening. ‘Miss Titus and Lord Markham.’
Her mother gave her a tiny nod of approval, the faintest hints of a self-satisfied smile twitching her lips. Zara saw red. Her protest to the duke meant nothing if she did not back it. To the rest of the guests, she was Markham’s. She shot a look across the room at Kael, his eyes dark with emotion when they met hers. She saw the insecurity there—would she stand up for him now that it mattered? To walk off with Markham would nullify her acceptance of Kael’s proposal and it would nullify her protest in the duke’s study. Kael crossed his arms. He was waiting for her to make her move, here in front of everyone. The duke shot her a challenging look. He was waiting too.
Zara’s palms were sweaty. She’d been wrong last night. The whole week had been leading her to this: a declaration of freedom, to be brave as Haymore had been brave when he’d broken with her to reach out for what he wanted. She understood fully what it must have cost him to face her and declare his independence.
Zara let her gaze lock on Kael’s. She would need his strength for this as she called out in a clear voice the fateful words, ‘Your Grace, I think there’s been a mistake.’
Her voice carried over the instantly hushed room. People stared. The duke didn’t make mistakes. There was no going back now. Zara pushed forward towards the duke, aware every eye was on her. ‘Lord Markham should be with Miss Falk, I believe. Perhaps your ink has smudged?’
The duke gave her a lingering look, his eyes sharp. ‘Ah, yes, Miss Titus, I see that is the case. My apologies, everyone. Markham and Miss Falk.’ Then he clapped his hands. ‘You are free to disperse. The first clue is being distributed now by the footmen and good luck to all.’
The diamond was a powerful lure. No one was inclined to linger and the drawing room emptied quickly. Zara stood frozen. What she had done started to swamp her with a sense of the surreal. She had let Markham go and with him all that she’d been raised to know and expect about her future.
‘Go after him, Zara. Undo what you’ve just done. Beg him if you have to.’ Her mother’s voice cut sharply through the room, tinged with panic, which said something considering her mother was regarded by London society as unflappable. Nothing bestirred her feathers, not even Haymore’s desertion had unseated her calm. But this had pierced her armour.
Zara drew a deep breath. ‘No.’ On her periphery, the duke gave a gesture to the footmen to shut the doors. There would be no exiting to his office or wherever these sorts of negotiations were managed. Maybe they weren’t managed anywhere. Maybe no one said no to the duke. Her chin went up a fraction. Maybe she was the first who couldn’t be bought? She and Kael. She liked the sound of that. Any moment he would step up and take her hand and he would validate that she spoke the truth, that he shared her feelings. She waited but he didn’t come to her.
She looked around, spying him. He stood immobile as if he were a hunter not wanting to scare off prey with sudden movement. All of him was still except for his eyes, which were alive and burning like brands.
‘Zara, explain this to me.’ Her mother had her by the arm, leading her towards a grouping of chairs. ‘Markham is waiting for a sign.’ The duke crossed the room to join them, perhaps to act as a proxy for her absent father. Regardless of capacity, he was not her ally, not any more. Like her mother, he was a game player.
‘Then Lord Markham has one, Mother. He is not my choice. I will not give him a sign to the contrary and lead him on with false hope,’ Zara answered bravely. Kael moved at last to her side. She reached out a hand towards him and made her arguments. ‘I understand how important it is that I marry this Season, Mother, and I understand the purpose of coming here was to make a betrothal to replace Haymore’s broken one. That will come to pass, just not with Markham.’ She felt Kael squeeze her hand. It would have been easy for him to speak the words, to take this burden from her, but that would have defeated the purpose. She understood now why he’d waited to come to her until she’d spoken. If she didn’t stand on her own now, she never would. ‘I will marry Kael Gage. We have decided it.’
Her mother’s cool glance slid over Kael, not quite derogatory, but one that certainly did not contain approval before it returned to her. ‘You’ve decided?’ The viscountess cocked her dark hair, her eyes sharp. Her shock had passed. Perhaps the duke’s game in the study had given her fair warning this was coming. ‘Is that what you think, Zara? After a week here, you actually believe you decide anything? The duke decides everything.’
The icy, knowing smile she favoured Kael with chilled Zara. ‘You have turned my daughter’s head with half-truths and lies, Mr Gage, and who knows what other damage you’ve done. Are you proud of yourself? She is a vulnerable young girl, coming out of a tragedy. She is easily led astray. A known seducer of women, like yourself, should have exercised honour and restraint.’ She gave him a look of disdain, a look Zara had seen freeze Austrian diplomats before. ‘What possible pride could you take in such an easy mark—?’
‘Mother! I’m not a child,’ Zara interrupted, flushed and embarrassed. Her mother portrayed her as a halfwit incapable of thinking for herself.
But Kael put a hand to her shoulder, his touch counselling caution. ‘What lies and half-truths would those be, Lady Aberforth?’ How could he be so calm when her mother had slandered him?
‘She thinks you have made this decision on your own, the two of you. And yet, she knows this party is about Brockmore helping arrange matches. The two ideas are irreconcilable, Mr Gage. So you tell me, how is that you’re the only one the duke hasn’t helped along? What has he offered you to convince you to reach above yourself to my daughter?’
Zara’s stomach dropped. Her mother was so sure of her argument it was frightening. ‘My daughter doesn’t know about your arrangement with the duke, does she?’ Her mother inclined her head. If it was a bluff, it was a brilliant one. ‘Perhaps you’d like to tell her what the duke has promised you if you marry her.’
This was the nightmare he feared. Zara’s panicked gaze flicked to his in horror and disbelief, urging him to deny it. He should have told her and they would have laughed about it. Now, there would be no laughing. This was serious. ‘There is no deal, Kael. Tell her,’ Zara insisted, but Kael hesitated a moment too long. He watched every last ounce of hope that flared in her green eyes fade, become extinguished. The seconds that followed might have been the worst of his life.
She let go of his hand and edged away from him as if he were now a leper, her eyes reflecting her betrayal as consequences began to roll over her. ‘Kael?’
He wanted to strangle her mother—hardly an appropriate feeling to have towards one’s mother-in-law. Her mother was a master. The viscountess knew Zara would never take her word for it so she’d forced him to incriminate himself. He could always lie, but the duke was sitt
ing right there to countermand him. No one would believe him over a duke and a viscountess any way. Not even Zara.
He couldn’t think about that. He could only think that she was leaving him, taking his happy-ever-after with her. He missed her already. He had only to say the words that would compromise them both and he could make her stay. But instead, he gave her one last gift. ‘It’s true, Zara. The duke offered to help my sister find a husband, to have a real life with a real family of her own, the one thing I can’t give her.’
Her mother had her by the shoulders, offering support, but he saw conflicting emotions in Zara’s eyes. Her mother’s evidence and his testimony didn’t reconcile. ‘You would sacrifice yourself in marriage for the sake of your sister?’ she said softly. He could see her debate it in her mind: how could such a noble man be so duplicitous?
‘It was never a sacrifice, Zara.’ He’d give anything to have this conversation in private without the duke and the viscountess looking on. He wanted to take Zara in his arms and assure her with his mouth, his lips, his hands, that the duke’s offer had nothing to do with his motivations. ‘I would want you without his offer.’
‘Of course he would!’ Zara’s mother snapped. ‘You have a dowry he’d love to get his hands on, Zara. He is everything your father and I have warned you about, everything we’ve protected you from. He is here because he was caught in flagrante delicto with another woman of good birth.’ She gave him a viper’s glare. ‘And now you think to ruin an innocent like my daughter.’
The words stung. Kael would rather have been flogged than to stand there and hear those words and know he could do nothing about them. They were true. She’d always been too good for him and now Zara knew it. He gave the duke a short nod. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I seem to have spoiled the morning, my apologies. I’ll look in on Merlin down at the stables.’ And maybe he’d just get on his horse and ride away. Why not? There was nothing left to stay for.
Scandal at the Midsummer Ball Page 20
