Provocative in Pearls (3 page)

“Near my home, there is a woman whom I love like a mother. Bertram threatened to have her son transported, or worse, for his political views. My cousin has influence in the county, and friends with even more influence. I do not doubt he could harm that woman and her son if he chose. Right after the wedding, I was told that Bertram had indeed harmed the son, and through the son the mother.”

An echo of the series of shocks she had experienced that day sent tremors through her now again. Some of the same rebellious anger leaked into her blood in reaction too, however.

Celia stepped away. Now the looking glass displayed dark hair transformed by an artist, and a young woman with fearful blue eyes struggling to maintain her poise.

Verity faced her dumbfounded friends. “Should I have stayed? Just accepted my fate? I had been badly used. My consent had been obtained through the worst trickery, and I believe Lord Hawkeswell was in on the entire plot. Worse, the deception affected far more than my marital status. I was so angry that I could barely think. I decided that I would not let them do that to me. I would not allow their plan of deceit make me mere chattel. So I ran away.”

Audrianna pressed both her palms to her cheeks. Her green eyes misted. “Sebastian was supposed to come tomorrow, not today. You would have avoided him, if he had held to the plan, wouldn’t you? He told me below that he was at your wedding, and would recognize you, so you managed never to meet him, nor he you. He had not realized that until today, how cleverly you always slipped away.” She gazed over, still astonished. “I had not realized it either. I am so sorry that my presence here, that my visit and now his untimely arrival, has brought this about. I should have—”

“I will forever be grateful that you made this visit,” Verity said, embracing her. “This past week, with all of us together again, has been one of the finest in my life. I will never forget it.”

“What are you going to do?” Celia asked.

Verity removed the long apron that covered her simple blue dress. “I am going to go below, and hope that the stranger I married is not too angry to hear what I say.”

A
udrianna appeared at the sitting room’s door and gestured for her husband. Summerhays went to her and they held a private, whispered conversation.

Audrianna then left, and Summerhays returned. “Verity is coming down. I beg you to hear her out. She may have a very good reason for everything.”

Hawkeswell could think of several reasons, and there was nothing good about any of them. “I promise to listen to all she says.”

Summerhays did not appear confident that the storm was over. However, the ladies must have concluded it was safe enough because light footfalls could be heard on the stairs. Verity descended into view. The apron was gone. The simple, unadorned blue dress should have made her look very common, but she carried herself with a grace and confidence that would put some duchesses to shame.

She stopped at the threshold to the sitting room. Summerhays excused himself.

“Please close the door as you go,” Hawkeswell said.

Summerhays looked to Verity for agreement. She nodded.

It was the first good look Hawkeswell had of his wife in two years. He noted again how few of the particulars survived in his memory. The details of her appearance had quickly faded to mere impressions, along with those of her character.

Lovely, he had thought when he met her, and meek. Young and innocent too. Except for the first, these were not the qualities he sought in women, but then he had never sought a wife before and, of course, different requirements were in order.

She did not look especially meek now. Lovely still, yes. More than before. A little maturity favored her. The hair was just as dark, the face just as white, the eyes just as blue, but a subtle definition enhanced her softness. Her expression struck him as boldly confident for someone caught at what she had done. That prodded his temper, and he concentrated on not reacting to the pokes.

“I ask that you not blame Daphne or any of the others for harboring me. They did not know who I was. I would like your promise that you will do nothing to bring trouble to them.”

“My interest is in your behavior, not that of your friends. However, that is a conversation better held later, after we return home.”

“I may have no choice except to leave with you, but I will not go willingly.”

She did not hesitate to throw down that gauntlet, even if her manner remained mild and quiet. She left him no choice but to reason and cajole, which hardly seemed fair since he was blameless. The alternative would be to use force and be the brute Mrs. Joyes had intimated he might be.

Even his anger could not justify that. Nor would Summerhays agree to help carry her out. Verity had sized up the limitations this situation put on him, and was prepared to exploit them. Which meant she was not meek after all. At least not anymore.

He gestured to a settee. “Won’t you sit? If we are going to talk about this here and now, you may as well be comfortable.”

She accepted the invitation, but did not sit on the settee. Instead she perched on an armless wooden chair.

“You let us all think that tragedy befell you, Verity. Did you never consider that your acts caused others to grieve?”

“I am very sure that my cousin and his wife did not grieve. As for you—Did you mourn for me, Lord Hawkeswell? Our association was brief and formal, and it was not a love match.”

He felt himself flushing. No, he had not mourned. The cool skill with which she put him at a disadvantage increased the pokes at his temper.

“I may not have grieved, Verity, but I did worry. A good deal.”

“I am sorry for that. I thought that I would be accepted as deceased after a few months, as the evidence that I fell in the Thames mounted. I never thought two years would pass and still, legally speaking, I was only missing.”

“You speak of that evidence with amazing confidence. You planted it, I assume?”

“Oh, yes. I did not want you or Bertram looking for me, so I thought that it would be best if I were thought dead for a while.”

“There are some people who I think did grieve, however,” she said, finally displaying some remorse. “I regret the pain I may have given them.”

“A flaw in your plan, then.”

“Yes. That is my one consolation in your untimely discovery of me. I can make certain that they know the truth quickly now.”

He paced the length of the chamber, deciding how to approach the many questions crowding his head. He felt her gaze on him, and sensed an odd mixture of caution and pique in her. The latter did nothing to calm his own mood.

“Are you attempting to find the proper words to inquire about the state of my virtue, Lord Hawkeswell? I expected that to be foremost in your mind.”

Her frankness astonished him. “It is one of many questions that I have, Verity.”

“Allow me to put that concern to rest. There has been no grand affair, or even an ordinary one. I am still a virgin.”

He was glad to hear it, as far as the answer went. Her virginity hardly put the fullness of the matter to rest. There could still be another man involved. It was the most logical explanation, but all of that could wait for another day.

“And you, Lord Hawkeswell? As long as we are on the topic—What has been the state of your virtue during my absence?”

She astonished him again. Mockery sparked in her eyes at his stunned reaction.

“I read all the papers and scandal sheets,” she said. “My proximity to London allowed me to obtain news from all over the country, and keep apprised of the doings of the ton. I think that if we compare virtues, you will agree that you have little right to speculate further about mine.”

How in bloody hell had he ended up on the low ground here? “I thought
you
were dead. You knew
I
was not.”

Her lids lowered. “No court declared me dead, so I was only missing. I know all about your love affairs, is all I am saying. I do not mind, but I hope that you are not such a hypocrite as to question my word on this matter, or to pursue it any further.”

He fought to conquer the profound irritation that she had already bested him twice now in a skirmish where she should not even hold a weapon.

Exasperation won out. He crossed his arms and pinned her in place with a glare he felt all the way to the back of his own head. “Are you going to tell me why you did it? I think that I have a right to know.”

Her cool calm seemed to crack. Her blue eyes glinted beneath those feathery lashes. There was nothing contrite in her expression, and precious little fear. However, she stood, as if she concluded that his stance required that she respond from a less submissive height.

“I left because I was not needed anymore for your and my cousin’s grand plan. Everyone has had what they wanted for these two years, because the wedding ceremony took care of that. You obtained the money you sought, and Bertram continued to control my father’s business, and Nancy has had the social connection she craved. The marriage settlement was all any of you cared about. It did not matter whether I actually lived the marriage during this time.”

Her smug satisfaction almost undid him. “It did not work out as you assume it did, I assure you. The law in such situations is much more complex than you guessed.”

That startled her enough that her damned poise wobbled.
Good.

“What do you mean?”

“The settlement has not been settled, as it were. It remains in limbo.”
As do I, damn it
.

“Are you saying that you have received
nothing
? No access to the funds held in reserve by that trust? Not even the income from these two years?”

“I have not received one damned pence.”

Worry drew her expression. “Your discovery of me has been even more unfortunate than I guessed. If you have been denied even the least of my settlement all this time, I fear that you will never agree to be sensible.”

“I am being most sensible. Also very patient. Most other husbands would be reacting very differently.”

She tensed, as if it had been a threat, even though he did not intend one. She looked as though she braced herself for a blow, which insulted him and annoyed him even more.

“I meant that it is unlikely that you will listen to my very sensible plan for what to do now,” she said carefully.

“The only possible thing to do now is return to London, let the world see you are alive, and make some attempt to put your capricious adventure behind us as we embark, finally, on this union.”

“I was
not
capricious. Furthermore, you are incorrect. That is not the only possible thing to do.”

“I cannot think of a single other choice.”

She was the one who paced now, as if she were a trapped animal. Back and forth in front of him she moved, frowning with distress.

“You can petition for an annulment. It is possible to obtain one. We never even had a wedding night, and I am told—”

“Why would I seek an annulment?”

She stopped walking right in front of him. She no longer played the mild, quiet wife, but revealed herself as an adversary. Emotion tightened her expression and tensed her posture.

“Because
I never wanted this marriage
,” she said. “And you do not care either way.”

“Of course I care. I consented. I signed the papers. I said the vows.
Just like you
.”

“You mean that you care about
the money
. I will find a way to give it to you anyway. The life this marriage demands of me is not the one I was supposed to have.”

“I cannot believe that you are suggesting such an absurd idea, Verity. The Church does not give annulments on a woman’s whim.”

“I did not escape that day to indulge a passing whim.”

“Then why? We began with that question, and we now return to it.”

She squared her shoulders and looked him right in the eyes. “I did not freely consent.”

That took him aback. The Church
did
give annulments for that reason.

“A chamber full of people heard you consent. A witness to your consent is in this house.”

“I discovered that my consent had been obtained ignobly and deceitfully.”

“Not by me.”

“If you say so.”

Her distrust infected the air along with her distress and rebellion. The mix did not bode well for the future.

He forced a new calm. He sought to both reassure and soothe her. “I do say so. When did you learn about this deception?”

“Right after the wedding breakfast.”

“Tell me what happened.”

She examined him as if she debated whether he was worth the effort. “I resisted the match. In the end, I said the vows only to help a family that I know and love, from my home. Bertram threatened them with great harm if I did not agree to the marriage.”

She told the story frankly, and not with a lot of conviction that her husband gave a damn whatever she said. Or perhaps she did not give a damn what he thought of it. He could not tell which way her mind went on that.

“In other words, you set aside your objections for these people, to protect them from Bertram.”

She nodded. “Then, right after the wedding breakfast, Nancy spoke to me. Privately. She told me that Bertram had already violated our agreement. That he had done that which he had promised not to do if I married you.”

“I am sorry that you believe you were hoodwinked by your cousin Bertram. In the end, however, the wedding did take place, Verity. It is unlikely that your claims now to being unwilling will get a hearing. You have no proof. If such claims were accepted readily, it would be too simple a way out of marriages because people would lie. It is time to accept that the marriage will stand.”