Forbidden (40 page)

In a sour moment, however, Serena muttered to Arabella that it was almost intolerable to be the beneficiary of such noble charity.

"I suspect the poor feel like that, too," Arabella said unsympathetically, "but it's that or starve."

Serena realized for the first time that Lady Cawle was not present. "Where is the countess?" she asked anxiously. "Has she decided to frown on me after all?"

"Not at all. You made an excellent impression. She will come after the meal. She has some plan in mind but is keeping it as a surprise."

Serena shivered. She did not like surprises.

After dinner the company increased rapidly. There were not many grand entertainments at this time of year, so anyone who was in Town had accepted. Lord and Lady Liverpool were in attendance, along with Lord and Lady Castlereagh. Mr. Sheridan made an appearance, though he seemed unwell and was quite clearly drunk.

Quite a stir was created when the Countess of Cawle, in full-skirted gray satin, arrived on the arm of the scandalous Lord Byron. Town was already abuzz with rumor that Byron's wife had recently left his house to return to her family, taking their child with her. The gossip was expanding to encompass his finances and his morals.

At a quiet moment, the countess said to Serena, "He's being dragged through the mire more than he deserves, poor boy, but more to the point, his story can easily eclipse yours."

And so it proved. Those with a mind to scandal found the poet's business—including, as it did, hints of cruelty and incest—far more titillating than Serena's mildly grubby past. She wasn't sure, however, that this balance of interest would hold if those pictures were thrown into the scales.

A trio struck up in an anteroom, and those inclined to dance repaired to the large saloon that had been cleared for the purpose. Francis came to Serena and led her there without any question. She did not mind—the idea of dancing with him was delightful—but his reserve chilled her.

"I am not a terribly good dancer," she whispered. "I have had little practice."

"You will find the country dances easy enough."

So it proved. Serena was a natural dancer, that she knew, and had always excelled at it whilst at school. The steps of the simpler dances soon came back to her. She was finally relaxing and beginning to enjoy herself, when a stir by the doorway froze her in mid step.

Disaster! That was her immediate thought.

Did the raised voices and exclamations reflect shock and horror?

Who was it?

One of Matthew's familiars come to disgrace her?

Her brothers with a batch of lewd pictures in hand?

With a start, she realized her reaction must have spoiled the dance, and she turned to apologize to everyone. She found, however, that Francis had disengaged them from the line dance, which was cheerfully continuing without them. Looking around, she saw that many of the guests were undisturbed by whatever had happened.

She clutched Francis's arm. "What is it?"

"Nicholas," he said, almost to himself, and steered a rapid course toward the disturbance. It resolved itself into a handsome man and woman in the center of a group of Rogues. Serena knew this must be Nicholas Delaney, the one Arabella had called King Rogue.

Relief turned her knees to jelly as terror had not, and she held even tighter to Francis's arm. He hardly seemed aware of her, however, so intent was he on the new arrivals. From what she'd heard, she assumed he was delighted to see his friend, and yet he did not seem to be.

"Nicholas," he said. "What the devil are you doing here?"

The blond man raised a brow but did not take offense. "Heard rumor of a party."

"From Somerset?"

"No, from Lauriston Street when we arrived." Nicholas smiled at Serena and detached her from her death grip on Francis. He raised her hand for a kiss. "I hope you are Francis's bride. You'll make a very welcome addition to the Rogues."

"Serena, I make known to you Mr. Nicholas Delaney, who appears to be poking his nose into other people's business again."

Nicholas merely smiled. "My best friend has married. I wanted to meet his bride. Speaking of which, meet mine." Serena was introduced to Eleanor Delaney, a good-looking auburn woman with a remarkable air of serenity. Did nothing ever ruffle this couple? How nice it must be, she thought with a touch of bitterness, to have life always flow along smooth paths.

Nicholas Delaney's voice snapped her out of her thoughts. "Another set is starting, Serena. Will you partner me?"

After an anxious look between the two men, Serena allowed herself to be led back onto the dance floor.

"Don't look so worried," Nicholas said. "Francis isn't angry with you or me."

"Can you be sure?"

"Oh, yes. But someone will have to tell me exactly what's going on. Will it be you?"

"No." Then Serena wondered if he would take offense at such a bald denial.

All he said was, "Good."

They danced for some time without further conversation. He was a good dancer, though not as graceful as Francis. Serena found herself trying to puzzle out the few things Nicholas Delaney had said, and felt as if she were faced with a conundrum.

As they stood together for a part of the dance, she said, "Why good?"

He picked up the conversation without difficulty. "Most matters between husband and wife are best kept confidential. If you need to talk, however, you can always come to me or to Eleanor. We may not have answers, but we are both good listeners. So is Francis normally."

They swung again into movement and completed their part of the dance.

When they were still again, Serena defended Francis. "To be a good listener, one has to be a little detached, I think."

"But would one wish to discuss secrets of the heart with someone who does not care?
'Oh, if thou car'st not whom I love, Alas, thou lov'st not me
.' Do you love him?"

The question was launched like a missile. Serena turned away and refused to respond, but she feared he had read the answer on her face.

They completed the set without further talk.

At the end he said pleasantly, "Thank you. I don't think I have ever danced with a more beautiful woman, and I have danced with many of great attractions. A beautiful woman who tries to hide it," he added, "is like a tall person who stoops."

"I am not trying to hide my beauty, Mr. Delaney. In fact, I have gone to some effort to make the most of it tonight."

He was leading her back to where Francis was talking to the Ardens and Eleanor Delaney. She thought he would make no response, but then he said, "A railed garden cannot be fully appreciated, no matter how carefully tended."

Serena wanted to hit him without entirely being sure why. If Francis was irritated to see Nicholas Delaney here, she was in complete accord with him.

For the next set, Serena danced with the marquess. She noted that while he seemed to flirt with every lady, even the dowagers, he no longer flirted with her.
Did
she have railings about her? As they made a pass together, she asked, "Why do you flirt with every lady but me, Lord Arden?"

He raised his brows. "Because I thought you didn't care for it. I will with great pleasure if you want. But not," he added, "if you are trying to make Francis jealous."

Serena stepped into the next movement, embarrassingly aware that he had pinpointed her unacknowledged intention. She was heartily sick of all these astute observations. Though this evening was turning out to be successful in terms of their strategy, it was tying her mind in knots.

When the event finally drew to a close and the guests had all left, the Rogues gathered in the untouched library to review the affair. Beside the Ardens and Middlethorpes, there were the Delaneys, Stephen Ball, Miles Cavanagh, Felicity, Con Somerford, and Hal Beaumont.

"A perfect end to a perfect campaign," said Hal with a smile at Serena. "The Cream of Society have now accepted you. You'd have to really appall them to undo that."

Serena flashed an anxious look at Francis, but he didn't seem about to reveal the existence of the pictures and her brothers' threats.

"Quite clever," said Nicholas, "to introduce Serena in this way. Whose plan was it?"

After a brief hesitation, Serena said, "Mine. With help from Beth."

"I congratulate you. So, tomorrow the notice appears in the papers, I gather."

"Yes," said Francis. "That should bring a swarm of congratulatory callers. After a couple of days of that, I hope we can escape into the country. I was thinking of visiting Somerset."

"Excellent. We can travel back down together. We left Arabel down there, so we will not stay long." Nicholas rose and assisted Eleanor to her feet. "Since we traveled for a good part of the day, however, I think we deserve our beds."

When the Delaneys had left, the others not staying at Belcraven House took their leave, too.

Riding home in the carriage, Serena couldn't ignore a shadowy tension emanating from her husband. It seemed different from the chill that had settled on him earlier and she probed for the cause. "You seemed angry to see Mr. Delaney, but he appears to be a pleasant man."

"He is. I wasn't angry to see him."

"Are you angry at me, then?"

"No."

That seemed unlikely. "I'm sorry about my brothers."

"Their faults are no concern of yours."

Serena remembered her fear that her children would have something of the Allbrights about them, and she shuddered. "Will we really travel with the Delaneys to their home?"

"Not if you don't wish to. We can go to the Priory if you would prefer."

Serena would prefer that he not be angry. They swayed as the coach took a corner and it would have been easy to lean against him, but she did not. "I think everything went well," she said.

"Yes. Excellently."

Silence settled and she could think of nothing more to say.

At home, Francis escorted Serena to her room and it was clear that tonight he would not share a bed with her. It was also clear that he would not share his thoughts.

When he turned to go to his room, Serena stayed him with a hand on his arm. "Francis, we can't pretend my brother's threat doesn't exist. Tonight was all very well, but if those pictures surface, it could undo all."

"There is no need to concern yourself, Serena. I will take care of it."

"Tom said he would be in the garden tomorrow afternoon. What am I to do?"

"Nothing. Do not by any means keep that appointment. Think, Serena. Your brothers will not use those pictures except as a last resort, for that would give them revenge but no profit." He dropped a formal kiss on her cheek. "Put the matter out of your mind. Good night."

Serena watched the door close behind him and hissed with annoyance. Disaster and shame were hanging over her head, and she was to put the matter out of her mind! Men, even good men, could be infuriating! She rang sharply for her maid.

As the woman readied her for bed, Serena could not get her brothers out of her mind at all. She wouldn't put it past them to publish those pictures out of simple spite.

In fact, she suddenly realized, there was nothing to stop them from making one or two of the less offensive pictures public and then demanding the money to avoid publication of the rest. Francis would have to pay, but Serena would still be tarnished, if not ruined entirely.

A good man wouldn't think of this ploy, but she was an Allbright, so it was perfectly clear to her. She had to explain this to Francis and try to make him understand the way an Allbright's mind worked.

As soon as her maid was gone, she went to the adjoining door and knocked. There was no response. She opened the door cautiously and peeped in. Francis's bed had been turned down, and he had clearly prepared for the night. Where was he?

After a moment, she returned to her own room. She supposed there might be any number of matters needing his attention, even at two in the morning, and she could hardly wander the house searching for him.

Her insight would have to wait until tomorrow.

* * *

Fearing that yet again Serena would come to him and he would be unable to resist, Francis had taken refuge in the library. He simply could not think it right to make love to a woman whom he suspected of extortion.

It was all very well for love to be blind and for him to ignore the fact that his wife carried the card of a man who was trying to blackmail him for ten thousand pounds. It pushed even his limits to put on blinkers when she came up with another reason to demand the same sum, this time involving her brothers.

All his instincts told him to trust Serena, but it was a simple fact that men could be fooled by a beautiful woman. He couldn't afford to be. The honor of his house was at stake.

He had to accept that there was a clear possibility that the child Serena carried was not his but Ferncliff's. It was also possible that the picture she had shown him had been sketched yesterday. There might not be any more of them.

What he was to do about all this was a different matter entirely.