His Unexpected Bride (12 page)

“I am sorry I do not meet your expectations or theirs.”

“I did not say that. I said only I am sorry my brother has been inflicted upon you.”

“What good would an apology do now?” She met his eyes steadily. “What good would any sort of apology do now?”

Sitting beside her, he smiled, but the warmth failed to reach his eyes. “You have been prettily spoken until now, quiet as a mouse, according to Eustace, who has not taken notice of how you can be very much the opposite.”

“I warned you I prefer honesty. You must own this is hardly a normal situation.”

“True.” He sandwiched her hands between his. “I feel compelled to apologize for my brother and his latest high-flyer calling when you have just arrived in Town.” His lips tightened, but he took a calming breath. “I fear you will be unable to avoid them, but I must speak with Eustace about spreading the news of our arrival about London with such alacrity.”

“Mr. Knox? But he was traveling with us.”

“I should have been suspicious when he gave that lad a tuppence at the inn.” A wry smile settled uncomfortably on his lips. “It seems he owes me an explanation of why he believed he should do that.” He looked again at the door. “As Russell owes me an explanation of where he found that low creature.”

“Miss van der—?”

“You may as well call her Isabel,” he interrupted with a terse laugh. “I doubt if even that is her real name. I never met her before this morning.”

“Never?”

“She has never been received at Peregrine Hall. After meeting her, you can understand why. Mother would fly up to the boughs at the very idea of Russell bringing his latest mistress to our ancestral home.”

She drew her hands away and stood. “As she will be in a pelter to hear you have wed, Cameron.”

“Quite possibly.”

“The duke—”

“He is your brother-in-law. You should accustom yourself to calling him Russell.”

Color flashed along her cheeks. “I have never met a duke before.”

“Is that why you acted so overmastered by him?”

“No. I was not impressed by him, but I am by his title.”

“I can assure you Russell is not the only duke who takes advantage of his position to seek his pleasure as he wishes.”

When he stood, her gaze moved along the white shirt covering his broad chest to his linen stock, which was wrapped perfectly beneath his chin. As she met his eyes, curiosity taunted her. Unlike his brother's glazed eyes, Cameron's revealed his quick wit and his tightly controlled passions.

Before she could speak, although she was unsure what she would have said, a maid brought in a tray topped by silver serving dishes. When she had spread them out on a low table and curtsied before hurrying away, he urged, “Eat, Tess. Mayhap this coffee will finally loosen my frozen brain, and I can recall what happened the night we wed.”

“You remember none of it?” Once she would have found such an assertion preposterous, but she could not disbelieve what was before her eyes. Cameron Hawksmoor was not a man who surrendered his will readily. She could not imagine him drinking until he was so foxed he was made a party to wedding a woman he had spoken to only in passing upon his arrival.

“Bits and pieces, but what I recall is like some half-remembered dream.” He scowled into the cup he was pouring for himself. Sitting on the settee, he met her gaze without apology. “Mayhap some fresh air will help me remember more. I have some calls to make today.”

“To whom?”

“The first shall be to a solicitor who may be able to help us. If all goes as I hope, I shall be hurrying back to tell you the good tidings. Then you can be done with the Hawksmoor family once and for all.”

Nine

There was more comfort than Cameron had guessed in seeing how little had changed on the street. So many times he had driven along it, and the brick fronts of the houses had been the backdrop to the anticipation of pleasure. He had thought of this pleasant street many times when the bitterness of the battlefield had threatened to drag him down into melancholy.

He swung off his horse and handed the reins to the lad who ran forward to take them. Noting the new livery the lad wore, he smiled. His erstwhile mistress, Pamela Livingstone, had made good use of Stedley's generosity. That was no surprise. Before he had left England, her intelligence had drawn him to her almost as surely as her sensuality.

As Tess does to you now
.

Where had that thought come from? He did not want to tangle his life up with the woman who was now his wife. Mayhap if they were not prisoners in this marriage, he would have determined if she might be interested in an
affaire de coeur
. A worthless pursuit, for she might allow him to sample a few kisses, but she had thrown him out of her bed.

Cameron forced his frustration aside as he walked into the parlor where he once had felt more at home than at his own house on Grosvenor Square. His vexation bubbled forth again when he noted how the room had been redecorated in shades of green and gold. It was far more pretentious than it had been when he last called here, for the furniture was gilded, and the rug was clearly new. He had hoped something would remain the same as before.

“Cameron, how kind of you to call.”

He looked toward a tall bay window. As a slender figure rose, silhouetted against the day's feeble sunlight, he smiled. Pamela was the same. She walked toward him, and he saw she was as graceful as he had recalled during those long months when he had been far from England. Her golden hair was lying perfectly about the shoulders of her cream wrapper, which was edged with intricate lace.

Taking her hand, he bowed over it, then kissed her cheek and smiled. “You know I would not be long in London without giving you a look-in.”

“Do come and sit down. You can tell me about all your experiences since you left.”

“If I not am intruding when you are expecting another caller—”

She smiled. “Dear Cameron, you know John would be as pleased to see you as I am. He has said so often he is grateful for your introducing us.”

“So you still are with Stedley?”

“Yes.” She sat in the green tufted chair, where she had been obviously enjoying a cup of tea when he arrived, for a tray was set in front of her. When he brought a painted chair to face hers, her smile broadened. “He is a kind man, and he is devoted to me. I am grateful, too, Cameron, that you took the time before you left England to arrange for us to meet. However, I wish to know about how you have been. I have heard congratulations are due you.”

“On my marriage?”

“Yes.” She laughed lightly. “I am so pleased for you, Cameron, although I should chide you for not telling me about this before I heard the
on dits.
”

He took a deep breath and released it slowly. “By the elevens, Eustace is losing no time in spreading the word of my nuptials.”

“And why not? It is joyous news. So tell me, however did you get your mother to agree to let you wed Tess Masterson?”

“Your spies are very efficient.”

“Because I know her name?” She laughed again, the sound like sunlit bubbles bursting in midair. “You must know such a quick wedding in daisyville without anyone being aware of your plans is sure to create a great deal of talk. No one had a chance to debate the planned wedding before it took place, so now everyone feels the need to prattle about it.”

“It is not a wedding I had planned.”

“What?” She lost her nonchalance and frowned. “You plan everything, Cameron, to the tiniest detail. How could you fail to plan your own wedding?”

It did not take long for him to tell her the ignoble tale of how he had come to find himself with a wife. As he spoke, Pamela came to her feet, motioning for him to remain seated. She paced from the window to the table where she kept a bottle of wine for guests.

“Outrageous,” Pamela said. “It sounds as if Masterson's hand is deep in this.”

“She is his daughter.”

“That is true.” Sitting again, she added, “I have heard nothing of her, for Masterson has kept her secluded and away from his cronies.”

“Those cronies are not the type of men one would wish to know one's daughter.”

She nodded. “I have heard he cares little who sits across the table when he holds the flats in his hands. He is known to be strident when he is in his cups and refuses to listen to any opinion save his own.”

“In that, he is much the same when sober.” He poured himself a cup of tea from the pot on the tray.

“And his daughter? Is she like him?”

Cameron shook his head. “She is very different. She listens when someone speaks, even though she may not agree.” He chuckled as he recalled her heated words at the inn. “She is not afraid to let one know her opinions, but she has a gentleness about her that is completely contradictory to her father's character. I suspect she is well read.”

“A bluestocking?”

“Mayhap, but her country ways are because she has seldom been to Town.”

“So Masterson has never spent any of his winnings on launching his daughter into the Polite World?”

“Winnings? From what I saw at their house, I would have guessed Masterson was at point non plus. The garden—” He threw up his hands. “The garden was a disaster.”

She laughed. “I should have guessed you would notice the state of the garden. What of your wife's wardrobe?”

“It seems to me it is not as fashionable as among the dandy-set here in Town.”

“Which means you took little notice of what she was wearing.” She wagged a finger at him. “Either I should chide you for paying more attention to Masterson's gardens than his daughter, or I should wonder if she has so beguiled you that you have taken no note of what she wears.”

“Feel free to chide me.”

“Really?” She smiled and relaxed again in her chair. “I think you are wanting to avoid the truth, Cameron—she intrigues you.”

“Whether she intrigues me or not is immaterial. Nor does it matter that Masterson is so bothersome he would not hear of Tess's remaining in the country while I made an attempt to unravel this mess.”

“Unravel?”

“I am looking for a way to put an end to this marriage.”

Pamela's dark eyes widened. “Oh, no, Cameron! If you divorce her, she will be forever ostracized.” Reaching across the table, she put her hand on his arm. “She is your wife, Cameron. Your very new wife. Please go to her and make certain you are aware of what you are doing.”

“What I am doing? I know quite well what I am doing.” He scowled. “I know now, even though I clearly did not then.”

“Mayhap it is not all for the worse.
On dits
suggest she is lovely.”

“She is.”

Pamela laughed. “Cameron, there is no need to act as if you have done something out of hand by owning to the fact your wife is a lovely woman.”

“'Twould be easier if she were a shrew and a nag and threw tantrums each time I walked into the room.”

“Mayhap you should be grateful she is kindhearted and willing to do what she must to make your marriage work, for there may be nothing you can do to change it now.”

He shoved himself to his feet. “Pamela, I have heard disparaging talk from everyone else. From you, I had hoped to hear more optimistic thoughts.”

“I could be dishonest with you and tell you whatever you wish to hear.”

“As you have in the past.”

She smiled as she lifted her teacup to her lips.

Cameron chuckled. It was a wise mistress who filled her lover's ear with nothing-sayings. “I came here hoping you might know of someone who is more interested than the family's solicitor in looking for a way to bring this marriage to a quiet end.”

“There may be someone.”

“I suspected you would know someone.”

She set her cup on the tray. “Cameron, I do not
know
this man, but I have heard of him. He helped a friend of mine with a difficult parting between her and her gentleman friend.” She hesitated, then added, “He is not for the clutch-fisted, for his services do not come cheaply.”

“I am not miserly.” Looking about, he gave her a reluctant smile. “Or mayhap in comparison to Stedley, I would seem so to you.”

Rising, she kissed his cheek. “My dear Cameron, I never had any complaints when we were dear friends.” She went to a writing table and opened a drawer. Opening a small book, she copied some information onto a slip of paper. She handed it to him. “If Mr. Paige cannot help you, I do not know where else you might turn.”

“Nor do I.”

The few windows of the solicitor's dusky office were shut tightly against the rain. Tess doubted they had ever been opened. An underlying stench of mustiness surrounded her as she sat on an uncomfortable chair in the antechamber, which was painted a dreary gray. A heavy door to the inner room was guarded by a young man she guessed was a clerk. He was scanning a heavy volume, his nose almost against the pages, his finger following each line in slow succession.

She fought not to tap her fingers on her lap. There was something about this place which disquieted her; something more than the dank odor and the dim light filtering through the windows draped by navy brocade. She glanced at Cameron. His shoulder rested against the window's frame, and he appeared to be watching the traffic on the street below, but she knew his mood was closer to outrage than complacency.

Not that she blamed him. They had been kept waiting for almost an hour. She had seen him pull out his pocket watch more than a half dozen times. The clerk had looked up the first time when the small sound of its gold chain broke the heavy silence, but had disregarded Cameron's impatience.

She wondered if Cameron shared her misgivings at coming here to seek advice. He had been vehement about not going to his family's solicitor. Was it because he did not want a suggestion of anything being amiss to reach the rest of his family, especially his brother? Or had the family solicitor told him what she suspected every honest attorney would? Dissolving this marriage quietly was impossible. Cameron had told her only that a friend's suggestion had brought them to Eldred Paige's office near the Inns of the Court.