A Scandalous Adventure

by Lillian Marek

  “I am so glad we were married at Ostrov.”

  “Even though I cheated you of the chance to have your family around you?” His hand had wandered up and was toying with the ribbon at the neck of her nightgown.

  “They will be around me soon enough. They begin to arrive the day after tomorrow. You will not only meet them, but you will have to house them. All of them.” She was gently tangling her fingers in the hair on his chest.

  “But they’ll be diluted by the presence of my cousins.” He had turned his head and was nuzzling her temple. “Mmmm. Having you next to me here in this bed is having a remarkably reviving effect on me.”

  Susannah smiled a smug, cat-like smile. She was feeling revived herself. “Are you sure?”

  “Quite sure.” His voice was husky. And he proceeded to demonstrate.

  * * *

  Three days later, Susannah’s family had arrived. When the ladies left the dinner table, Max found himself the focus of six pairs of eyes. They were not precisely unfriendly, but neither were they friendly. Distrust seemed to be the predominant emotion here. At least none of them had attempted to assault him so far. He was larger than any one of them, but there were six of them.

  Three of them were Susannah’s brothers. One of them was her brother-in-law and also Olivia’s brother. Another was Olivia’s brother-in-law. And the last one, a Frenchman who was also a brother-in-law of Susannah, seemed more amused than hostile.

  “I know how you feel,” the Frenchman said. “I faced the same scrutiny when I married my Emily.”

  “At least that was before the wedding,” growled the oldest of the brothers.

  Max did not want to be on bad terms with Susannah’s family. Dealing with her parents was tricky enough. In desperation he signaled the footman, who brought out glasses and a bottle of obstwasser.

  “This is a kind of brandy we make here from apples and pears,” Max said. “I thought you might like to try it.”

  Not long after the second bottle had been broached, it was agreed that Max was a very good fellow, even if he lived in this odd little country. Susannah could have done worse.

  * * *

  On the night before the wedding, Susannah and Julia, Olivia’s sister, stayed with the bride. As foreigners, neither one could be part of the wedding ceremony. That honor was reserved for daughters of the most noble houses of Sigmaringen. But on this night, Olivia wanted to be with her dearest friend and the older sister who had protected her throughout her childhood, and they were all seated by the fireside.

  The royal bride was looking panicked.

  “You’re not worried about the wedding night, are you?” asked Susannah. “Because I can assure you that there is nothing to be frightened about.”

  “Unless…” Julia hesitated. “I don’t know the prince very well. Is there something about him that worries you? Do you think he may be—how shall I put it—less than gentle?”

  At that Olivia began to laugh softly. “Oh no. If you did know him, Julia, you would know that he is the sweetest, kindest man imaginable.”

  “If you say so.” Julia continued to look doubtful.

  Susannah suddenly realized what the problem was. “It’s not Conrad. It’s the prince!”

  “But Conrad is the prince.” Julia looked at Susannah as if she were simpleminded.

  “Yes, but…” Olivia looked at her sister as if asking for understanding. “Susannah’s right. It’s not that I don’t want to marry Conrad. He’s everything I ever dreamed of. But these last few months, all the preparations, all the people, all the protocol—that’s what my life is going to be like. I will forever be on display in front of strangers, and I don’t know if I can do it.”

  “Olivia, think!” Julia said. “How much privacy have you ever had? You have lived all your life in front of servants. And if you do not give a thought to what you say or do in their presence, you should.”

  “You can make time for yourselves,” Susannah said. “Yes, Conrad is a prince and you will be a princess, so much of your life will be lived in public, on display with everyone watching. But it is not so different for the rest of us. Julia’s husband is in the foreign service. I’m sure that people are watching every move he makes, analyzing every expression that passes across his face.”

  Olivia looked at her sister in concern. “Is it very dreadful?”

  “Not at all. It’s much better than facing the cats in London.” Julia grinned gleefully. “Now, you see, when the evening is over and I am at home with David, we send the servants away and I tell him everything I have overheard. It can be very helpful for him because I often hear women talking about what their husbands have told them.”

  Olivia grinned back at her sister. “Then I will be able to help Conrad in the same way. I’ll be useful to him.”

  The conversation slowly turned to more important matters, shared memories and dreams, until all three women drifted off into untroubled sleep.

  * * *

  The day of the wedding, the second Saturday in June, dawned bright and clear, as was required for a royal wedding. The cathedral was bedecked in thousands of blossoms, the archbishop and the four attending bishops wore antique copes covered with splendid embroidery in gold and silver thread, and the choir sang the music that had been written for a royal wedding three hundred years before and sung at every royal wedding since then.

  The bride wore a gown of cream-colored satin embroidered all over with pearls. The embroidery had been done by a dozen Sigmaringen needlewomen, and the designs were traditional Sigmaringen motifs.

  When the prince and princess stepped out of the cathedral, the trumpet blares were drowned out by the cheers of the crowd. Those cheers accompanied them all the way to the palace as they rode slowly in the white landau pulled by six white horses. The joy of the crowd almost equaled the joy on the faces of Prince Conrad and Princess Olivia.

  There was a wedding banquet in the palace, of course, attended by visiting royalty, statesmen, and diplomats as well as all the nobility of Sigmaringen, followed by a ball. Down in the town, there were more banquets and dancing for all the citizens of Sigmaringen, from the richest to the poorest.

  No one went hungry that day, and there was music everywhere.

  Forty-three

  The week after the wedding was not entirely free of tension. The departing guests all required careful ceremony to speed them on their way without offending anyone, but it was accomplished. The royal band managed to get through all the national anthems without hitting too many wrong notes and—more importantly—without playing the wrong anthem for any of the visitors.

  At last, Max and Susannah were free to return to Ostrov. But not alone. Max had invited her parents to accompany them. He had not originally planned to do so, but during a conversation with Lady Penworth he had somehow issued the invitation. Quite unintentionally, he later told Susannah. She smiled and told him that she understood perfectly. After all, she had a lifetime of experience with her mother.

  * * *

  Lady Penworth was writing a letter when her husband came into their sitting room in Staufer’s town house. She gave him an abstracted nod and continued writing. When she finally finished and laid her pen aside, she realized that he had been pacing ever since he entered. This was most unlike him.

  After stopping to stare out the window, he turned to speak to his wife. “Staufer tells me you have accepted his invitation to visit his home, Ostrov or whatever it is called.”

  “That’s right.” She smiled.

  “Anne, did he actually invite us?”

  “Why, of course, dear. He may have had a bit of difficulty phrasing the invitation, but I knew what he meant.”

  “That’s what I thought. And I believe he understood as well.” He gave a rueful smile. “Perhaps… It is possible… We may have been mistaken… Staufer may not be as stupid as I first thoug
ht.”

  She patted her husband on the arm. “I believe you are right. I confess, my first thought when I saw him was that anyone that big must be somewhat dim-witted. But I admit that was simply prejudice on my part.”

  Lord Penworth’s mouth twitched slightly. “On my part as well.”

  “After all,” she continued, “he never actually did anything stupid.”

  “He married our daughter without bothering to discover anything about her family.” He scowled at the memory of that grievance.

  “Foolishly impetuous, perhaps, but he was assuming she was poor and unimportant. A generous and honorable impulse, one might say. Not a fortune hunter, at any rate.”

  “Anne,” Penworth said slowly, standing arms akimbo, “has he won you over?”

  She shrugged lightly. “At first I was afraid that Susannah had simply lost her head over his looks. He is an extraordinarily handsome man, you must admit. But when she talks about him, she praises his sense of honor and duty, his loyalty and the loyalty he inspires, not his impressive physique.”

  Penworth snorted.

  “Well, my dear, you can hardly deny that it is impressive,” she said. “However, Susannah never was a girl to be misled by a handsome face. It may have been a short acquaintance, but it seems to have been an intense one.”

  Her husband sat down beside her and leaned back with a sigh of concession. “Our sons seem to approve of him, and I know they were dubious at the outset. Julia’s husband says he has a good grasp of the politics of this region, a good understanding of the interests motivating both the powerful figures and the weak ones.”

  She smiled at her husband fondly. “In short, it appears that he would be an acceptable husband for Susannah if he had only come to you and asked your permission beforehand. And if he did not live so far from England.”

  Penworth reached over, took her hand in his, and squeezed it. “And if they had not cheated you once again of a chance to arrange a wedding at Penworth Castle.”

  She shook her head and laughed at herself. “True enough. Why do all my daughters have to marry in foreign lands?”

  “Well, I suppose we shall have to forgive Staufer, accept him into the family and all that, but I don’t think we should tell him so just yet.”

  “No, not yet. We must first see this medieval castle of his so we can be certain our daughter will have a proper setting.” Lady Penworth’s impish grin made her look no older than twelve.

  * * *

  If anyone had asked Susannah to describe her parents’ weeklong visit to Ostrov, she would have called it interesting. She retained some sense of propriety, after all.

  Aunt Magda had accompanied them as well. She explained that before she retired to her own estate, she wanted to make Susannah familiar with the way things were done at Ostrov. It was a large and complex establishment.

  Lady Penworth was certain her daughter was grateful for the assistance, unnecessary though it was. Susannah had, she pointed out, grown up in a castle and was fully conversant with the niceties of managing a noble household.

  Aunt Magda was certain that was true and had no doubt that Ostrov would be in good hands. However, every establishment, large or small, had its little idiosyncrasies.

  Lady Penworth acknowledged the truth of this, adding that when things had been done a certain way for years and years, a fresh eye was sometimes needed to see how they could be improved.

  Susannah kept smiling and thought it very unfair that Max had only her father to deal with, especially since land management was not Lord Penworth’s area of expertise. The two gentlemen arrived at dinner every evening more comfortable with each other than the day before, while Lady Penworth and Aunt Magda were increasingly polite to each other.

  Mercifully, Aunt Magda left two days before Susannah’s parents were scheduled to depart, providing Lady Penworth with two days to fuss over her daughter, admire the castle, and shower her with advice. At least some of this advice, Susannah realized, was actually useful, like using a room closer to the kitchen as the dining room so that food might still be warm when it reached the table.

  In a flurry of last-minute hugs and admonitions, the Penworths left in the Staufer carriage. It would take them a comfortable two days to reach Baden, whence they could take trains for the rest of their journey. Improved train service, Max agreed, should be high on the list of improvements for Sigmaringen.

  Susannah and Max stood on the castle steps until the carriage disappeared through the gates. Arm in arm, they turned to enter their home.

  “Do you know,” he said, “this is the first time we have ever been alone?”

  Lev, who had been walking beside Susannah, turned his head to look at Max, making them both dissolve in laughter.

  When she had recovered, Susannah said, “Alone? You do remember that Ostrov houses some forty servants just indoors? I still don’t know all their names.”

  With the arm he had flung over her shoulders, Max hugged her to his side. “You know perfectly well what I mean.” Leading her into the nearest room—a small sitting room that looked out onto a pretty courtyard with a fountain and was furnished with a large, comfortable sofa—he flicked a glance first at Lev, who sat down obediently, and then at a footman who closed the doors firmly behind them.

  “Are we truly alone now?” She turned to face him, resting her hands on his chest.

  “We are.” His own hands slipped around her waist to pull her close to him.

  “And no one will disturb us?” She unbuttoned his jacket and began to undo his cravat.

  “No one.” His voice had grown husky, and his fingers fumbled as he tried to deal with the tiny buttons running up the back of her bodice.

  “Good,” she whispered as she used his cravat to pull his head down toward hers for a kiss. A long kiss.

  Some time later, they lay in drowsy contentment in each other’s arms. That the overstuffed sofa was not really deep enough for two did not bother them in the slightest. Nor did it worry them that their clothing was scattered carelessly across the floor.

  “There is so much I haven’t told you,” said Max, nuzzling her hair.

  “Anything important?”

  “Oh, yes. For example, I haven’t ever mentioned that I love the way your hair smells. Like summer.”

  She smiled into his chest. “And I love that you make such a comfortable pillow.”

  “I am delighted to offer you comfort, my lady. Because you…” His voice grew serious. “You bring me peace. A kind of peace I never knew existed. You make me complete.”

  “Yes. That’s what it is. With you I am complete. I am what I was meant to be.”

  “Is it possible that a year ago,” said Max, “I did not even know you?”

  “No. That isn’t possible.” Susannah reached up to turn his face to her. “A year ago we had not met, but I feel as if I have always known you. I was just waiting to meet you.”

  Like Sherry Thomas and Lorraine Heath?

  Then you’ll love Lady Elinor’s Wicked Adventures by Lillian Marek!

  For more info and updates about the series go to:

  http://lilmarek.indiemade.com/

  Like Jane Feather and Courtney Milan?

  Then you’ll love Wicked Little Secrets by Susanna Ives!

  For more info and updates about the series go to:

  http://susannaives.com/wordpress/

  Like Mary Stewart and Georgette Heyer?

  Then you’ll love The Pride of the Peacock by Victoria Holt!

  Like Grace Burrowes and Jane Ashford?

  Then you’ll love In Search of Scandal by Susanne Lord!

  For more info and updates about the series go to:

  http://www.susannelord.com

  Look for the first book in the Victorian Adventures series by author Lillian Marek

  London, 1852


  Cheerful frivolity reigned in the ballroom of Huntingdon House. The dancers swirled to the strains of a waltz, jewels glittering and silks and satins shimmering under the brilliant light of the new gas chandeliers. Even the chaperones were smiling to each other and swaying unconsciously to the music.

  Harcourt de Vaux, Viscount Tunbury, an angry scowl setting him apart from the rest of the company, pushed his way to the side of his old schoolfellow. Grabbing him by the arm, Tunbury spoke in a furious undertone. “Pip, your sister is dancing with Carruthers.”

  Pip, more formally known as Philip Tremaine, Viscount Rycote, turned and blinked. “Hullo, Harry. I didn’t know you were here. I thought this sort of thing was too tame for you these days.”

  “Forget about me. It’s Norrie. She’s dancing with that bounder Carruthers.”

  They both looked at the dance floor where Lady Elinor Tremaine, the picture of innocence, was smiling up at her partner, whose lean face and dark eyes spoke of danger. He was smiling as well, looking down at her with almost wolfish hunger.

  “What of it?” asked Pip.

  “He’s a bloody fortune hunter and a cad to boot. How could you introduce him to your sister?”

  Pip frowned slightly. “He introduced himself, actually. Said he was a friend of yours.”

  Harry spoke through clenched teeth. “You idiot. That should have been enough to disqualify him. Where are your parents?”

  “Dancing, I suppose.”

  Harry caught a glimpse of the Marquess and Marchioness of Penworth on the far side of the room, dancing gracefully and oblivious to everyone else. Turning back to find Carruthers and Lady Elinor again, he muttered an oath. “He’s heading for the terrace.” When Pip looked blank, Harry shook his head and charged across the dance floor.

  * * *