The Earl's Runaway Bride Page 10

  Felicity waited. With the light behind him she could not read his expression.

  He said abruptly, ‘I came—that is, I wanted to apologise for my boorish behaviour last night.’

  She inclined her head. ‘We were all a little on edge, my lord.’

  ‘You have dressed your hair differently.’

  Flushing, she put a hand up to her head. It felt strange after so long to have curls falling about her shoulders.

  ‘Lady Souden suggested…’

  ‘Ah, I should have guessed. She knows how to please a man.’

  Felicity’s cheeks burned at the inference. She pulled herself up a little taller. ‘What can I do for you, my lord?’ Her tone was as frosty as she could make it, but it had no visible effect upon the earl.

  ‘May we not sit down?’

  She sank into a chair, tensing herself as he chose to sit opposite her. She tried to ignore his searching gaze.

  ‘You do not look to have slept well,’ he said at last. ‘If it is any consolation, neither have I. Your appearance in town was quite a shock for me.’

  ‘I had hoped to break the news a little more gently.’

  ‘It should not have been necessary to break it to me at all,’ he ground out. ‘You entered into a legal contract when we married, madam. It seems those vows that you professed were so important meant very little to you, since you ran away from me at the first opportunity!’

  ‘No, no…’ She must try to make him understand. ‘You had a…’ She fought to speak calmly. ‘Someone said you had a mistress.’

  ‘A mis—!’ He raised his brows. ‘And you believed that? Without even asking me?’

  ‘It is unlikely that you would have told me the truth!’ she retorted. ‘Besides, you had already left Corunna.’

  ‘Then you could have written to me—but that is not the point. What did it matter if I had a whole string of mistresses, you were no less my wife! You had no right to leave without a word. What in heaven’s name was I to think?’ He paused and drew a breath. ‘When I returned to England I tried everything. I set the lawyers to work, I even sought out your late uncle’s man of business. You might have applied to him for funds, you know, your uncle did not die a pauper.’

  ‘I was afraid if I went to him he would tell you of it.’

  Felicity kept her head bowed, but she could feel his eyes boring into her.

  ‘Did I frighten you so much,’ he asked quietly, ‘that you cut yourself off from everyone who could help you?’

  ‘Not quite everyone…’

  ‘No.’ The sneer in his voice was unmistakable. ‘You went to Lady Souden. No doubt she thought it very romantic to take you in, to hide you away—’

  ‘She wanted me to contact you! I made her promise to tell no one, not even Sir James!’

  ‘So not only did you disregard your own marriage vows, but you persuaded your friend to deceive her husband.’

  Felicity jumped up. ‘When I left Spain I was hurt and angry. I wanted only to get away from you. I was…ill for a while and by the time I had recovered your regiment had sailed again for the Peninsula. Lady Souden offered me a home, and an occupation. It seemed best to take another name, to forget that we had ever married. I never thought to see you again.’

  Nathan watched her, his arms folded across his chest and a cynical curl to his lips. ‘Do you take me for a fool, madam?’

  It was Felicity’s turn to sneer. ‘Is it so hard to believe that I wanted nothing more to do with you?’

  ‘Oh, no, I am quite ready to believe that you were happy to abandon a penniless officer. Quite a different matter when you realised your husband was the Earl of Rosthorne.’

  She gave him a scorching look and turned away from him.

  ‘Yes, that would make sense,’ he said, getting up and coming to stand behind her. ‘To be married to a rich lord would be much more comfortable than to be the wife of a poor soldier, would it not? A handsome jointure might even reconcile you to my—ah—diversions.’

  She swung round to find him so close that she was obliged to look up to meet his hard, angry eyes.

  ‘I have never wanted your money! If I had done so I should have declared myself as soon as you became the Earl of Rosthorne.’

  ‘Why did you not? Why leave me to think myself a widower? Good God, I might have taken another wife. Would you make a bigamist of me?’

  ‘Of course not!’

  She went to step away, but he grabbed her arms.

  ‘So what would you have done if I had chosen another bride? Come to the church, perhaps, and declared yourself on my wedding day!’

  ‘No! I never thought of that—I merely planned to hide myself away, to live quietly, under another name…’

  ‘And now? What are we to do now?’ His fingers dug into the flesh of her arms. ‘Well, madam?’

  She struggled angrily against his grip. ‘I could go away, live abroad.’ Her head went up. ‘Or there is always divorce—heaven knows your name has been linked with any number of women!’

  She met his gaze squarely. There was a flash of something in his eyes. Rage, surprise, she could not tell. He released her and she quickly moved out of reach, rubbing her arms. Scowling, he walked away from her and stood for a moment, staring out of the window.

  ‘Is that what you want?’ he said at last. He waited, then said harshly, ‘I presume your silence means you do.’ Slowly he turned to face her. ‘Well, I’m damned if I’m going to make it that easy for you, madam. You married me, for better or worse. I give you fair warning that I intend to claim my wife!’

  ‘That smacks of vengeance, my lord,’ she challenged him. ‘Hardly the sentiments of a civilised man.’

  ‘Very likely,’ he retorted. ‘But I do not feel very civilised at the moment.’

  ‘Well, let me remind you, sir, that this is a gentleman’s house, and until you can act in a civilised manner I suggest you stay away!’

  With that she swept out of the room, closing the door behind her with a decided snap.

  Felicity flew the stairs. Her spine tingled. She was afraid that Nathan might follow her and drag her back, but it was only when she reached the second floor that she heard his booted tread on the marble floor below. Running to the balcony, she was in time to see him leave the house.

  ‘Felicity, my dear, what happened?’ Lydia appeared on to the landing. ‘I heard raised voices.’

  ‘As well you might,’ replied Felicity, her voice shaking with anger. ‘The man is a boor and a bully. I cannot think how I ever thought I could like him!’

  Lydia drew her into her room and closed the door. ‘What did he say?’

  Felicity hunted for her handkerchief and defiantly blew her nose. ‘I told him I knew of his mistress and he—he did not even care! He said he might have dozens of them, but it did not give me the right to leave him!’

  ‘Well, legally, he is correct…’

  ‘I do not care about the law,’ declared Felicity. Her eyes narrowed. ‘He says he will not let me go.’

  ‘Well, that is a good sign, isn’t it?’

  ‘I am not sure. I think it is just that he does not like to be thwarted.’ She sighed. ‘He is so hard, Lydia, so angry; nothing like the kind, gentle man I knew in Corunna. Perhaps I was naïve to expect him to be the same; perhaps I never really knew him at all.’

  Lydia patted her hands. ‘You have startled him, that is all. I have always found Rosthorne a most charming man, and James thinks very highly of him. I think he will make you a very considerate husband.’

  ‘And what of his mistresses? You have heard the gossip, Lydia—Europe is littered with them. It is not to be expected that he will change.’

  ‘But it is possible,’ said Lydia. She added gently, ‘We must face facts, my dear. Many men take a mistress, although I do not think that James has ever…but he is the exception, I fear. To have a kind, generous, considerate husband is more than most women dare hope for and I think Lord Rosthorne is all of those things. When you have
had a little time to grow accustomed I feel sure you will deal very well together. But, there is nothing else to be done about it at the moment, so go and change into your walking dress. A little exercise will do you good. I shall expect you downstairs in half an hour.’

  ‘Why, where are we going?’ called Felicity as Lydia went to the door.

  ‘To New Bond Street,’ came the airy reply. ‘We are going shopping!’

  It was three days before Nathan managed to catch up with his wife again. In between riding out to Richmond to escort Tsar Alexander back to town and accompanying Marshal Blücher when he attended a military review, he had called at Berkeley Square, only to be told that Lady Souden and Miss Brown had gone out and were not expected back until the evening. He had called again while the Tsar and his sister were at one of the innumerable parties being held in their honour and was informed that the ladies of the house were dining out.

  The following day he had dashed off a terse note, requesting an appointment and received a very civil response from Lady Rosthorne explaining that the ongoing Peace Celebrations were causing such a clash of engagements that she could not possibly say with any certainty when she would be at home. Nathan was not taken in by the apologetic tone of the note, which he ground savagely between his fingers. It was plain that Felicity was avoiding him.

  When he had worked off his anger with a strenuous bout of fencing practice Nathan was able to look back upon his last meeting with Felicity, and to acknowledge that he had given her little reason to seek out his company. It seemed they could not meet without ripping up at each other. But surely he had reason to be angry. Her erroneous belief that he had been keeping a mistress in Corunna was a feeble excuse for running away from him. It was much more likely that she wanted his money—he would not be the first soldier to fall victim to a heartless adventurer. But Felicity was not heartless, he would stake his life on it, and it was quite possible that she had needed his money when she returned to England—had she not told him that she had been ill? He needed to talk to her.

  With this in mind he presented himself at Lady Templeton’s rout the next night. He was in no very cheerful mood as he entered the crowded ballroom. When he was given leave from his escort duties the last thing he wanted to do was to attend another party, but this promised to be one of the most glittering occasions of the season and he was confident he would run his quarry to ground there. It appeared that all London was crammed within its elegant walls. He stepped quickly into the crowd to avoid Lady Charlotte, looking magnificent in diamonds and lace, and he soon spotted his cousin Gerald flirting outrageously with the Tsar’s sister, the Grand Duchess of Oldenburg.

  He turned away, thankful that for tonight at least the royal party was not his concern. His height gave him the advantage as he swiftly surveyed the room and he soon spotted Lady Souden talking to their hostess and—yes, standing behind her was Felicity. He noticed immediately the subtle difference in her appearance. She wore no concealing fichu around her neck and her gown of rose-coloured muslin accentuated the creamy whiteness of her flawless skin. Her honey-coloured hair was no longer combed flat and constrained in a knot but now hung in soft curls about her head, with one glowing ringlet coaxed to hang down beside the slender column of her neck and rest upon the gentle swell of her breast. Little changes, but the effect took his breath away.

  Felicity saw Nathan as soon as he entered the room and it was with some unease that she watched him pushing his way through the crowd, a determined look on his face. She touched Lydia’s sleeve and was gratified when her friend reached out to give her hand a reassuring squeeze. As Nathan came up Lydia smoothly ended her conversation with Lady Templeton and turned to greet him.

  ‘My Lord Rosthorne, how delightful.’ She held out her hand and he could do nothing but take it, although his impatience was ill-concealed.

  ‘Your servant, my lady. Miss Brown.’

  Remembering their last meeting, Felicity gave him only a cool nod of recognition.

  ‘I wonder, Miss Brown, if you would do me the honour—’

  ‘Oh, you would like Miss Brown to dance with you!’ Lydia broke in. ‘Yes, yes, do go along, my dear, I do not need you for the moment.’ She put her arm across Felicity’s shoulders and pushed her forward. ‘There you are, my lord, a charming partner for you. But be sure to bring her back to me directly the dance is ended!’

  ‘You were not going to ask me to dance, were you?’ Felicity challenged him as he led her away.

  ‘No. I want to arrange a time to see you. Alone.’

  Her spirits dipped. There was nothing of the lover in his tone. ‘That may not be possible, we are very busy…’

  ‘So I understand.’ He took his place opposite her in the line, his frowning gaze never leaving her face. ‘But it must be done.’

  The music began. Felicity gave him her hands, stepped close, then back, all the time gazing up at her partner. He looked so stern that it was difficult to believe he was the same man she had danced with at the masquerade. Then there had been a smile on his lips and a glint in his brown eyes. But then he had not known who she really was.

  ‘You sigh, Miss Brown. Do you find me so tedious as a partner?’

  They were so close it was safe to reply without anyone overhearing.

  ‘I was thinking of the last time we danced, my lord.’

  ‘At the masquerade?’ He brought his head closer. ‘I have told you, madam—that was not so much a dance as a seduction.’

  She flushed. ‘I beg your pardon. I behaved then like a wanton.’

  His grip on her hand tightened painfully, but before he could respond the dance drew them apart. Her spirits dipped even further. He had not contradicted her; perhaps such behaviour was acceptable in a mistress but not in a wife.

  ‘So will you tell me when I may see you?’ he asked, when at length they came back together. ‘I could call tomorrow morning.’

  ‘Lady Souden and I are going out—’

  ‘Tell her you cannot go.’

  ‘No.’ Felicity recalled the scandalised faces of the servants the last time they had been alone together in Berkeley Square. She did not think her reputation would withstand another such meeting. ‘I cannot meet you alone at the house.’ A muscle flickered in his cheek, as if he was keeping his temper with difficulty and she added quickly, ‘I—I will think of somewhere… Pray give me a little time.’

  Again that iron grip squeezed her fingers. ‘You have until the end of the evening, madam!’

  They finished the dance in stony silence and Nathan escorted her off the floor with almost indecent haste, his countenance shuttered and cold. It seemed to Felicity that he could not wait to part company. She moved towards Lady Souden, only to find Gerald Appleby blocking her way.

  ‘Well, well, Miss Brown I must take you to task! I was led to believe you never danced, yet I have been watching you on the dance floor with my cousin here. If you can dance with Rosthorne, then you cannot say nay to me! Come along, Miss Brown.’ As he reached for her hand Nathan stepped up and grabbed his arm.

  ‘You are too impatient, Appleby. The lady has not consented.’

  Felicity blinked, startled by the icy menace in his tone.

  Gerald regarded him with a mixture of laughter and surprise in his face. ‘What have you done to my cousin, Miss Brown? He looks ready to call me out.’

  Nathan released his grip. ‘I would not have you importune the lady, that is all,’ he said coolly. ‘If she wishes to dance with such a fribble that is her choice.’

  ‘A fribble, am I?’ Gerald grinned and cocked an eyebrow at Felicity. ‘Well, ma’am, will you dance with me?’

  She hesitated. Beyond Gerald, Lady Souden was smiling at her and nodding, but Nathan bent on her a furious glare. Perhaps he was not quite so indifferent after all. Her shoulders straightened. She lifted her head. ‘Why, yes, Mr Appleby, I will dance with you.’

  Nathan’s lips thinned and he bowed, unsmiling, to Felicity. ‘Until later, Miss Brown.’ />
  Chapter Eight

  Dancing with Gerald did much to restore Felicity’s spirits. She was amused by his cheerful banter but more than this, she was aware of Nathan’s eyes upon her throughout the dance.

  ‘I vow I am much encouraged by Lord Rosthorne’s behaviour,’ murmured Lydia as they made their way to the supper room soon after. ‘To accost Mr Appleby in such a manner is most unlike him. There can be only one explanation, Fee. He is jealous!’

  ‘Do you really think so?’

  ‘Why, yes, I do! The whole time you were dancing he stood by and watched you, his arms across his chest and such a dark and brooding look upon his face I declare no one dared approach him.’ She gave a little giggle. ‘Very romantic—just like Lord Byron’s Corsair.’

  ‘I have not yet read that so I have no idea what you mean.’ Felicity tried not to think of Nathan as dark and brooding, it made her knees grow weak. Instead she tried to think of somewhere safe to meet him on the morrow.

  In the supper room a deferential footman approached and murmured quietly to Lady Souden. Following his oustretched hand Felicity observed Lady Charlotte Appleby on the far side of the room, nodding and smiling towards them. Lydia allowed herself one swift, rueful glance at Felicity.

  ‘We are summoned,’ she murmured.

  Lydia led the way across the room, greeting Lady Charlotte in her soft, well-modulated voice and sinking gracefully on to a chair.

  ‘My dear Lady Souden, such a crush, is it not? I thought it best to bring you here—heaven knows whom you might have found at your table with you.’ Lady Charlotte’s strident tones carried around the room and Felicity found several pairs of eyes turning towards them. Lydia turned off her comment with a soft, laughing rejoinder, but Lady Charlotte’s attention had already moved on. She called for wine, then sat back and ran an appraising eye over Lydia.