by Gayle Callen
“Thank you,” she said, casting down her gaze. It was hard to look at him and not be dazzled. She was soon to marry this man. It all seemed frightening and unreal most of the time.
“Did you finally take my advice about Ellen?”
“No, tonight I informed her she’d be the lady’s maid to a duchess, and I couldn’t have made her happier.”
To her surprise, he frowned as if this was serious.
“Adam?”
“No, it’s nothing. Now tell me whatever you’ve done to bewitch my mother. I need to know for future reference.”
She gave him a reluctant smile. “I simply let her do whatever she wanted.”
“I don’t think she’d ever find a more accommodating daughter-in-law.”
And without any warning, he leaned down to kiss her, capturing her mouth before she had a chance to deflect, as she’d been doing the last week. And suddenly she couldn’t remember why she’d been deflecting. They kissed with passion and urgency and anticipation, and for a moment, it was so easy for her to forget all her concerns.
At last Adam was the one to pull back, but only enough to press his forehead to hers as he caught his breath. “I had almost forgotten how wonderful this is between us.”
She stared into his blue eyes, so close to her own. Would it stay wonderful?
He straightened and held out his arm. “Come, it’s time to meet the public.”
She shuddered. “Not something I’m looking forward to. Our callers this week already ran the gamut of every reaction to our engagement. I can only imagine tonight will be even more magnified.”
“Then let them see our happiness and be envious.”
She gave him a nervous smile and let him lead her to the drawing room. The next hour did see every emotion: censure, laughter, jealousy, curiosity. Faith learned to ignore the negative and appreciate the rare positive reactions, the people who thought Adam had never looked happier, or who thought the Rothfords needed some livening up.
Her biggest concern—that Timothy would attend even though he hadn’t been invited—gradually faded. Lady Emmeline had to be there, of course, and it was strange to watch Adam’s friend Lord Shenstone remaining at her side, consoling her even as he sent angry glares Adam’s way. Faith asked if Adam knew what was wrong with his friend, but all he did was shake his head, mouth grim. Faith prayed she would not be the cause of their friendship disintegrating.
Sophia was still going on with the fiction of being pursued by Lord Shenstone, so she, too, was forced to be a part of their unhappy threesome. More than once, Faith saw Mr. Percy looking on just as unhappily, and finally she went over to talk to the man.
He bowed. “Miss Cooper, you look very happy tonight.”
“Surely you’re being kind, sir. I feel far too nervous to look happy. It is rather overwhelming to be a part of such an important family.”
He nodded gravely, and she hoped he was thinking of what it would be like were it him.
“But I find that most everyone has been welcoming to me,” she continued, “and the change, although drastic, is not as important as the relationships I’ve formed.”
He gave her a sideways glance of amusement. “You are not very subtle, Miss Cooper.”
She sighed and smiled. “No, I’ve never been accused of that. And I know your attachments are none of my business. But . . . you and I are not that different.”
“We are very different, Miss Cooper. Your husband will be a duke. Lady Sophia deserves and needs a husband of high rank, too.”
And then he bowed and left her, and she felt like an interfering fool. Who did she think she was to give advice—the duchess?
As the musicians readied the waltz, Adam found his betrothed and took her away from his sister. He leaned down to say softly, “At last you and I will dance in public.”
He found he liked Faith’s blushes, especially when they were about him. More and more all he could think about was how near her room was to his each night. But he knew she’d have a poor reaction to even the hint of another scandal, so he stayed away.
But here, in front of all of Society, he was able to hold her close, feel the tremble of her nervousness by his hand on her back, and his other hand encompassing her own. He whirled her into the dance, and saw the moment she realized people were standing back to watch them.
“Adam,” she began tentatively.
“Don’t pay any attention to them. Just look at me and remember we will show them how happy two unlikely lovers can be.”
She nodded, but there was no true happiness in her eyes, and he knew he’d have to work hard to see it grow there. He was ready for the challenge.
As they waltzed, he hoped he’d shown the anonymous blackguard that he didn’t care about rumors or empty threats. It had been three weeks since he’d received a note. He hadn’t sent Faith away—he was marrying her and wouldn’t be dissuaded.
Anyone at their engagement party could be the one holding a grudge against him, powerful enough to make the person discover Faith’s past and try to use it against Adam. And of course, there was Gilpin, who wasn’t in attendance, but was one of the suspects who was angrier with Faith than Adam. It was frustrating to have this hanging over his head, with nothing concrete to take to the Metropolitan Police.
And then there was Shenstone. Adam wished he understood what was going on with his friend, if Shenstone really could be so upset with him that he’d threaten an innocent woman. Such a “prank” might be something Shenstone would do once on a drunken whim, but could he really have continued? And why—because he was upset Adam didn’t contact him immediately on arriving in England? Upset they were no longer drunken compatriots at every gaming hell in London night after night? Adam was trying to forge a better life for himself, and instead of supporting him, Shenstone was flirting with Sophia to annoy Adam—and maybe trying to sabotage his marriage with threats.
He gritted his teeth as he watched Shenstone say something to Sophia—and her look of misery. What the hell was he trying to do?
“You don’t look happy,” Faith said as the dance ended. “I don’t even think you were aware you were dancing with me.”
He blinked down at her in surprise. “You’re right,” he said softly, drawing her aside. “I keep seeing Shenstone and Sophia, and I’m not happy about it.”
“Have you talked to him?”
“No, not in depth anyway.”
“Maybe you should. Look, he’s heading into the corridor right now. You can catch him.”
He smiled and leaned down to kiss her cheek. “Thank you for your understanding.”
“He’s standing up for you at the wedding, isn’t he?”
Adam hesitated.
“You didn’t ask him yet?” she said in astonishment. “Oh, I promise not to tattle to your mother.”
He gave a reluctant laugh. “Then I’d better rectify that.”
Adam moved through the crowd as quickly as he was able, nodding politely to guests but making it apparent he couldn’t talk. In the corridor, he saw Shenstone just entering the card room and called his name, half expecting to be ignored again.
But Shenstone came back out and waited for him.
“Can we talk?”
“You don’t have much time to talk lately, Rothford,” he said coolly.
“I do now.” He led him downstairs to his study and shut the door.
“You know,” Shenstone said in a strangely conversational tone, “you’re about to be married. Most men in your situation need some last exciting . . . experiences before the big commitment. Do you remember that actress who would never even make time for you? I understand she’s free now and—”
“Why do you keep bringing up my past?” Adam asked sharply. “I know we’re at different points in our lives, but surely we can find s
omething else to talk about.”
Shenstone shrugged. “Maybe I’ve got nothing else to talk about. I’m still the same as I always was, remember?”
“No, I don’t think so. You’re angrier and bitter.”
The last of Shenstone’s smile faded. “And you’re dull.”
“But apparently, my sister is not.”
“We amuse each other. Is something wrong with that?”
“She’s too innocent for you—and I want her to remain that way.”
“So you think I’d harm your sister’s reputation, like you seem to have done to Miss Cooper?”
Adam inhaled swiftly, then let it go. “I am marrying her.”
“And she looks just jubilant about it. And let’s not forget Lady Emmeline, who thought she’d be the one to marry you.”
“I cannot be responsible for what Lady Emmeline thought while I was gone all those years,” Adam said tightly. “As for Miss Cooper, that’s none of your business.”
“And my relationship with Sophia is none of your business.”
“As her brother, it most certainly is.”
“She’s of age and can choose whom she wants.”
“Are you seriously going to pursue her?” Adam demanded.
Shenstone lounged back against Adam’s desk. “I didn’t say that.”
With a groan, Adam ran a hand through his hair. He should confront Shenstone about the threatening letters, but didn’t know if that would be showing his cards too soon. And wouldn’t the man just lie, if he was capable of such threats? “I don’t understand why we are having such difficulties between us. I thought you would stand up for me at my wedding.”
Shenstone snorted. “You haven’t asked, have you?”
“You haven’t seemed like you would accept the honor.”
He narrowed his eyes, then said softly, “I won’t.”
He walked past Adam, deliberately brushing his shoulder, and closed the door behind him. Hands on his hips, Adam stared out into the torchlit gardens surrounding the mansion. Perhaps he should have brought up the letters, but something inside kept him from doing so.
Was he supposed to believe one of his oldest friends was angry enough to research Faith’s past and threaten him with anonymous letters? But he couldn’t risk doing nothing, so he would contact his investigator and have a man follow Shenstone, too. How long could this possibly go on?
Chapter 20
The next morning, Adam decided to visit Raikes’s office rather than await a messenger back and forth between them. He looked out the window to the entrance hall to judge the weather—and saw a ragged little boy coming through the gate. It was both a kick in the stomach and a surge of alertness that an approaching battle always brought. He ran back through the house to the servants’ stair and headed down to the kitchen on the ground floor, startling Cook just as a knock sounded at the servants’ entrance.
“Just take the note,” Adam said quietly, as all the pages, scullery maids, and kitchen maids goggled at him. “I’m going to follow him.”
“But Your Grace, should not one of the footmen do it for you?”
“No, I need to take care of this myself.”
Cook nodded, cleared his throat, and everyone got out of sight of the door. Not half a minute later, Cook called, “He scampered off, Your Grace!”
Seabrook took the note as he reached the kitchen with his slower pace. Adam went through the outside door and saw the boy still running toward the far corner of the house. Once he took the turn, Adam started after him, running at a slow pace. He saw faces pressed to the ground floor windows as he passed, and knew he was giving his servants a fine midmorning joke.
Once on the street, he felt a little more confident in following the boy through the crowds. That is, until they headed east, where the city streets got more and more crowded. At last, Adam just gave up, realizing he couldn’t possibly run all the way to the East End, if that’s where the boy was headed. He’d been hoping that if a gentleman had paid him, the boy would return to give a report, but apparently not. There’d been no waiting hackney to convey him either. He was heading directly east—back home, poor lad.
Adam caught a hackney home, and Seabrook met him in his study to hand over the note, bow, and depart. The note looked exactly the same, and Adam glared at it before breaking the seal.
So much for believing the blackguard had given up.
With a heavy sigh, he read:
You’ll be sorry when everyone finds out your new duchess is a whore.
He slammed the note down hard. So was the threat to reveal the truth? What the hell did this person want from him? Just to make him crazy with frustration? To make him break off the engagement? Every step of the way, Adam had done exactly what he himself wanted to do, while taking security precautions for Faith, and nothing had happened except these damned notes.
But was this a threat to reveal Faith’s background, if she became his wife? That would hurt her, but certainly she’d be better able to withstand the storm as his duchess, rather than a woman alone in the world. He thought again about informing her, but he was taking care of things. She’d only worry—or flee. And he didn’t want either of those things. He wouldn’t tell his aunt until after the wedding—no need to upset the old girl.
As he’d planned, Adam went to Raikes’s office and had him begin to watch Shenstone, even though it made him sick. He heard a report that Miss Ogden and Miss Atherstone had unblemished records, while Gilpin was never out of sight of the investigator, if he wasn’t in his own home. But of course, that didn’t mean he couldn’t have hired a man to find a boy . . . so what did having suspects followed even prove? But he had to do something, and perhaps someone would make a mistake.
But he was going to marry Faith, and nothing would stop him.
The night before the wedding, Faith retired early to her bedroom. She was already in her nightdress and dressing gown, seated at her dressing table, her hair down to be brushed, when she heard a knock at the door.
“Come in, Ellen,” she called.
Adam stepped into the room and closed the door.
She froze with her hairbrush at the crown of her head.
He smiled. “Don’t let me disturb you. Just think, after tomorrow, I’ll be able to watch you every night.”
She slowly lowered the brush, then licked her suddenly dry lips. “But we aren’t married yet.”
His smile grew crooked. “I know. I had some news to impart, and some of it is not what I’d hoped for. I had sent a footman and maid to escort your mother to the wedding.”
She took in a deep, startled breath. “I posted the invitation, but she never responded.”
“I’m sorry to say that she turned down the opportunity to attend.”
She let her breath out in a long sigh. “I cannot pretend to be sad. Though your motive was to be kind, next time, please consult me first.”
He came over to stand behind her, and their eyes met in the mirror. “I assumed you wanted her to attend, since you sent an invitation.”
“The correct reason was that I did not want to explain things to your mother.”
“Aah, forgive me.”
“Adam, are you always going to do this, not discuss things with me?”
“I was hoping to surprise you.”
She softened. “I know, and I should take that into account. It’s just . . . my mother did not approve of what I had to do to support her—although she took my money regularly enough. But I have not seen her in over two years.”
“Do you correspond?”
“I send her regular letters, and once in a while she responds. But I’m a sinner in her eyes, and I’m not certain marrying a duke will change that.”
“I’m sorry,” he said simply.
She turned around
on the bench and touched his arm, rising to her feet. “You’ve said that enough. We’re past it. Thank you for thinking of me. Did your mother tell you who else had agreed to attend? Your two fellow soldiers from the Eighth Dragoons and their wives—Viscount Blackthorne and the Earl of Knightsbridge. Is there anything I should know before we meet?”
But they were standing close together, and his eyes were watching her mouth, and she found her thoughts getting far too distracted.
“Adam?” she whispered.
His gaze flicked to her face as if surprised she’d spoken.
She bit her lip to hide a smile, and couldn’t help feeling pleased that although she was worried about their marriage, she had no need to worry about the strength of the attraction between them.
He cleared his throat. “I’m glad they’ve come. I’ll ask them both to stand up with me at the ceremony.”
“You didn’t send them private notes in advance?” she asked, shocked that he’d let such an important wedding detail go until the last minute.
He seemed baffled. “Why should I? I know they’ll accept.”
“But . . .” And then she let it go. Men simply thought differently from women.
“Our wedding is rather normal compared to Blackthorne’s. He married our commander’s daughter by proxy. I attended the ceremony in India, although the bride was in England.”
She stared at him in surprise. “Of course they’d met.”
“No, not until we returned last autumn.”
“That’s incredibly brave and trusting,” she said, positive something dire must have occurred to make that happen. “I understand the earl recently married, as well.”
“I was able to attend that wedding, too. Just so you’re aware, the bride has been blind since childhood.”
Now her mouth really did drop open. “You have the most fascinating friends, Adam. I’m looking forward to meeting them.”
His gaze dropped to her mouth again, and then lower, where she was without the protection of corset and layers of petticoats.
“Do you know what I’m looking forward to?” he asked softly.
