“For my dowry.”
Aubrey’s head shook firmly. “No. There are many other girls with dowries. There would have to be a specific reason he would trap you.”
“Perhaps he only considered that my father was a duke and wanted the connection.” She shrugged.
“I don’t think so.” Aubrey paused as if considering something. “Have you thought about asking him?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Why not? I think it might be good to get it out in the open.”
“I can’t do that now,” she said, frustration tingeing her voice.
“Why is that?”
“Because during our last dance he told me that he trusted me and that he would until I gave him a reason not to. He said I could trust him, that he was honorable.”
“But you don’t believe him?”
Sera threw her hands out to her sides in frustration. “I don’t know what to believe. I don’t know him or anything about him. All I know is that a rumor started about us and then he wrote to me with a proposal of marriage.”
Taking Sera’s hands, Aubrey squeezed. “We will figure this out. We will find out the truth.”
Nodding, Sera squeezed back, grateful for her reassurance and help. Sera wasn’t quite sure what she would do without Aubrey’s friendship.
“Come on, let’s go watch the others dance.”
Taking a seat against the wall, normally reserved for wallflowers, the two sat in silence as couples twirled by in a flurry of lace and satin.
The ballroom was large—larger than most anyway. The parquet flooring glistened with a new coat of beeswax that mingled with the scent of women’s perfume. Three imposing chandeliers were glowing from hundreds of candles, their light reflecting off thousands of teardrop crystals.
Sera loved the rosy, romantic feeling the light created. Joined with the weeping sounds of violins, she always felt that it was the perfect atmosphere for falling in love.
The high, arching windows had finally been opened, but it only served to let in a light breeze. There wouldn’t be much escaping the heat in the room unless one went outside.
Leaning forward, she looked through an open pair of French doors out to the lit garden. Candles had been placed outside, softly illuminating the stone benches and garden beyond the balcony. Having been to a ball here before, she knew there was a staircase to the left of the doorway that led down into the gardens.
“Last time I was here, I would have never guessed that my life would take a turn like this,” Sera finally said.
“I know.”
“At least I know that you will be able to have what I won’t. That will give me some comfort.”
Aubrey let out a humorless laugh.
“Why do you laugh?”
“Look at me, Sera. I’m hardly the beauty you are.”
“That’s not true,” Sera said, sounding upset by her friend’s dismissal of her qualities. “You are beautiful, intelligent, and have a great sense of humor. Any man would be lucky to have you.”
“It’s sweet of you to say so. I know I am no beauty as you are. My hair is more brown than blond, my figure more suited to a mistress than a wife. I like my eyes, but they aren’t extraordinary. Many people have hazel coloring.”
“You’re so much more than that. I hope to be around when you realize it.”
“You need not feel sorry for me, Sera. I am quite happy with myself. I make the most out of what I have and I also have a respectable dowry. I shouldn’t have too much trouble securing a husband.”
“I know. I just hope that you find the love you desire.”
“Yes, and that’s what makes you a great friend.” Aubrey’s eyes widened as she looked over Sera’s shoulder. “Goodness, Lord Bromley is heading this way.”
“He is?” Sera had no idea why the duke would approach her now. While she had considered him a friend, she was an engaged woman now, and there was no hope for a future between them.
Even if Aubrey hadn’t told her he was making his way toward them, she would have known something was happening that involved her. The noise level had dropped again as the duke approached her, everyone waiting to see how her old suitor would be greeted. Would this night ever end?
Sera turned, a serene smile on her face. “Lord Bromley, how wonderful to see you.”
He raised her hand in a courtly gesture as he bowed over it, his light brown hair remaining perfectly in place. She had always wondered how he consistently managed to look immaculate. His evening attire was made of the finest material and cut to perfection. While he didn’t have the bulk in his shoulders that Lord Devericks did, he was certainly pleasing to look at in his black evening jacket.
His light brown eyes smiled back into hers. “I am pleased to see you as well, Lady Sera. I had hoped to claim you for this next dance if you are available.”
“Of course.”
He gave another nod of greeting to Aubrey as he assisted Sera from her seat. “Lady Aubrey, it is always a pleasure to see you as well. I hope you will save me a dance for later this evening.”
“It would be my pleasure,” Aubrey answered him with a polite smile.
Lord Bromley had always asked Aubrey to dance after he danced with Sera. That courtesy was something she had always appreciated. No other gentlemen had gone out of their way to make sure that her friend had a pleasant time as well. Bradford, Lord Bromley, the Duke of Wathersby, always seemed to understand that Sera was not content unless Aubrey danced as well.
Whisking her to the floor, the first few chords of the allemande started.
“I want to congratulate you on your engagement. Devericks is a lucky man,” he said, moving her through the steps of the dance.
“Thank you,” she said, trying to sound cheerful at the mention of her fiancé.
“I must say I am surprised and a bit disappointed though. I had hoped to come to some understanding with you shortly. It seems I waited too long.”
Hearing what she had suspected all along, that he had been close to proposing to her, caused a sharp pain in her heart. She really did care for him. Now, there was nothing to be done but move on and play the part she had agreed to.
With a heavy heart, she plastered a small smile to her face. “I am sorry about that. Lord Devericks and I just seemed to come together in a way I hadn’t felt before. I care for you very much as a friend, and I hope that we can remain as such.”
“I would like that as well.”
Changing partners for a moment, she scanned the room for her fiancé. Where was he? She could have sworn she felt his eyes on her, but he was nowhere to be found.
Returning to Bradford, his eyes roamed her face, seeming to search for something in her expression.
“May I cut in?” She almost winced at the edge in her fiancé’s voice.
Except for the musicians, the room hushed. This was exactly what the gossipmongers wanted: a scene between her fiancé and her previous suitor.
The three stood there in silence for a moment, the two men sizing each other up.
Bradford finally smiled. “Certainly,” he said to Lord Devericks before turning back toward her. “I hope that you will save me another dance as well.”
“I would be happy to.” She forced another smile before he left, her fiancé taking his place.
The gasps that sounded around her caused her to curse softly. Three dances. He had three dances from her tonight. It was unacceptable in the eyes of society.
It was almost as bad as the gossip that she had been compromised. Well, if anyone doubted that they were truly together, this would rid them of their skepticism.
“What do you think you are doing?” she asked him, her temper rising.
He looked a bit astonished. “What am I doing? I think the better question is what are you doing? We are supposed to be a couple now, or have you already forgotten?”
“How could I ever forget such a thing now that I am ruined? By cutting in, you’ve made us a spectacle.”
“We already
were.”
“You know what I mean,” she said through her teeth. “Three dances with the same partner is obscene.”
He shrugged.
“You don’t care, do you?”
“Not really,” he said, shaking his head. “While it may be seen as improper, it is also cementing our engagement into everyone’s minds. They know we are together, that we are getting married. What more could be said about us?”
He had a point, but she still didn’t like it. She wanted this evening to be the end of all the gossip, but it seemed as if it would not be ending any time soon.
While the three dances were unconventional, they were newly engaged, and she hoped that people would see it in a romantic light.
“I think I’ve had enough for this evening,” she said wearily.
He gave her a curt nod. “I’ll find your father and let him know you are ready to retire.”
While she didn’t want his interference, she was grateful he took upon the task of finding her father. The room was overly crowded, and she knew it would take some time locating him.
Leaving her in Aubrey’s care, the two women sat in chairs abutting the wall, a short distance away from the dance floor.
When her father arrived, she was relieved that the night was over. She was exhausted beyond measure, and was done pretending to be blissfully in love.
She needed a bath, and maybe even a good long cry. Perhaps things would look better in the morning, but she couldn’t see how they would.
***
It was late on the night of the ball, and Quinton was settling down in a chair in the library with a brandy. Deciding not to return to his apartments, Harold had opted to stay in one of the guest rooms.
“You cannot tell me you had no idea that Lady Sera looked like that,” Harold said, disbelieving Quinton’s shock at his bride’s beauty. “You went to her home yesterday to speak with her father. I won’t believe it.”
Sipping his drink, Quinton laughed. “Believe what you like, my friend, but I had no clue. I was relieved when I saw Lady Aubrey, thinking that it wouldn’t be hard to bed her, but there was such disappointment when I saw Lady Sera, believing her to be my fiancée’s best friend.”
“Lucky sot.”
Quinton lifted his glass in a solute. “Agreed. She could have married anyone she pleased. With her dowry and looks, she could have had a king.”
“But instead she’ll have you.”
“Yes.” Quinton nodded.
Finishing his drink, Harold set the glass down on a side table. “Well I’m off to bed. I should be out of here before you wake.”
“There’s no hurry,” Quinton said, waving his friend’s concerns away as he left the room.
Quinton didn’t sleep much that night. The dreams he had of Sera hadn’t made it easy to rest. By morning he wasn’t in the best of moods. The snippets of sleep he had gotten the previous night weren’t enough to keep his body functioning or put him in a chipper mood.
“Has Harold already left?” Quinton asked one of the maids as he finished off his eggs in the dining room.
“Yes, my lord. He left almost an hour ago,” she said with a curtsy, beginning to carry on with her duties when she paused. “Sorry to disturb you, Lord Devericks, but I wanted to let you know that a letter arrived for you about half an hour ago. It was put in your study.”
He gave her a quick nod before she left the room.
A letter at this hour? It wasn’t even past eight in the morning. It couldn’t be urgent, or someone would have taken it to him immediately, but still, someone had thought it important enough to write first thing.
Intrigued, Quinton wiped his mouth with a napkin and pushed out of his chair.
When he entered his study, the letter, with his name neatly scrawled on the front, had been placed in the middle of his over-sized desk just waiting to be read.
Sitting in his Louis XIV chair, he sliced the wax seal off with a small sword-shaped letter opener.
The faint flowery scent caused his dreams to rush back in full force; effectively tearing down the blocks he had put in place to block his fiancée from his mind.
Sera.
He didn’t need to scan down the page for the signature. The scent that clung to the pages told him who the author was.
Lord Devericks,
I apologize for the early hour in which I am sending you this letter. It is my hope that it will find you before you begin your day. If you are available, I would beg for some of your time today. There is something I must ask you and I would prefer to discuss it in person. I look forward to receiving your letter of reply.
Sincerely,
Lady Sera Winters
What could she possibly have to ask him that was so important? He had just seen her last night at the ball, and she hadn’t indicated there was anything that needed to be discussed. Reaching for a piece of foolscap and ink, he began penning his response.
Dear Lady Sera,
I must say, I am intrigued by your letter. I am available to meet you at your home around eleven this morning. Would that be sufficient?
Lord Quinton Devericks
CHAPTER 4
After reading Lord Devericks’ reply, Sera began to pace. He would be here in two hours. The sleep that she so desperately needed the night before had eluded her, allowing her doubts about him to creep in.
She had to ask him if he started the rumor. She needed to see his face whether he admitted or denied it. Would she believe him if he said that he hadn’t started it?
He was the only person who gained something by lying. The only person who was desperate enough.
His answer wouldn’t change anything. At least it wouldn’t seem to change anything to anyone else. She was locked into this marriage. The enormity of the scandal that would occur if she broke their engagement was something she couldn’t face. No, there was no turning back.
This meeting was just to gain insight into the character of the man she was to marry, to figure out how she would feel about him throughout their marriage.
Rising, she rang for Lydia, her lady’s maid, to help her dress. She wanted to be fully prepared to greet her fiancé well before he arrived.
The next two hours flew by quickly. After a bath, her hair was dried and plaited into an artful sweep, secured by a few citrine pins. The yellow day dress she had picked to wear complimented her golden hair, making her feel like a queen.
She waited in her receiving room, having already alerted the servants to the earl’s visit. At precisely eleven, she heard the unmistakable sound of knocking at her front door.
Well, at least he’s prompt. That’s something in his favor.
And it was. A prompt person was usually a responsible one, and it was an attribute she could admire in a spouse.
“Lord Devericks, the Earl of Surrant for you,” her butler bowed with the announcement.
“Thank you. Please show him in.”
A moment later, her fiancé strolled into the room, looking clean and fresh and exceedingly handsome in his buff colored breeches and morning coat. His black hair glistened, still damp from his bath, and she could smell the spicy scent of his soap.
She had acknowledged the large breadth of his shoulders last night, but he seemed to be built equally as well everywhere else. The material clung to his thighs; the muscles flexed and bulged underneath the tight cloth.
His arms were also large, more suited to a footman than to an English lord, but they matched the rest of his large frame.
Trailing up to his face, she saw humor in his emerald eyes, clearly amused by her perusal of him.
She had been taken by his face last night, but in the light of day, without the pressures of performing in front of the rest of the ton, she was able to truly enjoy how handsome her fiancé was. His nose was straight, but not pointy like so many other members of the aristocracy. His chin was hard, square with a slight cleft in the middle.
He was strong, powerful looking, and different from other me
mbers of their class. He had worked hard to acquire those muscles.
“See something you like?” he teased as he took a seat across from her.
“Yes,” she replied candidly, enjoying the surprise that shot across his face. “You are a very handsome man. Does this surprise you?”
“No, your honesty does though. I had expected you to blush or stammer out an excuse like so many other inexperienced girls.”
She shook her head with a soft laugh. “I should apologize now if that is what you are expecting of me. I fear I can’t pull off that certain attribute. I am usually much more forthcoming with people I am well acquainted with.”
“I am pleased to hear it, a sensible wife is always a desirable thing,” he said, nodding to the maid who brought in a tea service and biscuits.
“Shall I pour you a cup?” Sera offered.
“Yes, please. Just milk, no sugar.”
With a nod, she began readying their tea. Performing this small task helped her get her mind back on track. True, he was handsome. But she hadn’t asked him here so that she could stare at him or make idle chit-chat. She needed answers for her own peace of mind.
After handing him his cup, she quickly prepared her own.
“I asked you here to speak of our marriage,” she began, hesitating by taking a sip of her drink before continuing. “We don’t know each other, and the thought of marrying under such circumstances disturbs me. I had hoped we could spend a bit of time getting to know one another.”
“Seems reasonable to me. What would you like to know?”
“Why type of man you are,” she said bluntly.
He arched an eyebrow. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”
She set her teacup down. “I would like to know if you are honorable, how you would act in particular instances, if I can trust you, if you will be faithful to me during our marriage. All of these pieces of information will fit together to let me know how our life will be together.”
Mirroring her, he set down his teacup and leaned forward, steepling his hands as he stared at her. She appreciated bluntness and honesty but his sole focus on her was a bit unnerving. She didn’t think anyone had ever stared at her so intently.
Scandal of Love Page 4
