The Unexpected Bride (20 page)

She shook her head, tears still trickling down her cheeks, ‘No, you didn’t hurt me at all! It was wonderful! I…I’m fine…just a bit shaken.’ How could she explain to him that she was crying because she loved him, because she knew he did not love her? How to tell him that every time he touched her, or spoke to her, her love increased? That when he made love to her it was an agony not to be able to say that she loved him?

Suddenly he understood. He had suspected that she loved him; her passionate response to his lovemaking told him a great deal. Now he realised just how difficult the whole relationship had become for her. No matter what he said or did he was going to hurt her unbearably. Tenderly he used the sheet to dry her cheeks, knowing that there was nothing he could pos
sibly say to comfort her. To do so would be an intolerable wound to her pride, which would not allow her to accept pity. All he could do was hold her until she drifted off to sleep.

I
t seemed to Peter as he escorted his wife into the glittering, crowded ballroom that most of the Ton was present at Lady Edenhope’s Ball. Two weeks had been spent in intensive shopping to outfit Penelope for the social whirl and this was their first appearance. He exchanged a glance with Richard Winton and said softly, ‘This is going to cause quite a sensation!’

Penelope’s hand trembled on his arm. The buzz of chatter in the room told her just how large the gathering was. She felt isolated, lost.

Peter looked down at her, understanding her nervousness. ‘Don’t be scared, little one. I will be with you all the time. Trust me!’

Penelope smiled up at him, reassured. The room was so ablaze with light that she could easily make out his tall figure beside her. ‘I know. You wouldn’t want me to trip over someone important and destroy your credit!’ she teased.

‘Nothing of the sort!
My
credit could withstand a dozen such scandals!’ he replied with considerable aplomb. ‘It is merely that I pride myself on being able to do just as good a job as Gelert. Think how morti
fying for me if I had to admit publicly that your dog is more capable than I am!’

‘Yes, I suppose we should keep that fact in the family!’ answered Penelope with a laugh.

Phoebe, observing the look of shining confidence replace fear on her sister’s face, murmured to Richard, ‘Something tells me that this match is working very well. Not even Papa could have got Penny to a function like this!’ She knew, without being told, just how much Penelope had come to care for Peter and trust him. Suddenly she was sure that Peter had come to care for Penelope. How else could he have understood, let alone banished her fear?

A footman announced them. ‘Lord and Lady Darleston, Mr and Mrs Richard Winton.’

The hum of conversation ceased abruptly as the élite of society turned to inspect the unknown girl who had caught one of the richest prizes on the Marriage Mart. The marriage of Miss Phoebe Ffolliot to Richard Winton had surprised few. The marriage of Darleston to a girl whose very existence had been unsuspected was another matter.

Jack Frobisher had hinted at some sort of scandal, and despite his unpopularity the whiff of gossip had aroused curiosity. Most people knew of the row at Lady Bellingham’s ball and they speculated on the probability that there was more to the situation than the bland announcement in the
Gazette
had told them.

The split second of silence was broken by a collective gasp of astonishment as society took stock of the twins. A babble of conversation broke out. Darleston and Richard were, as ever, immaculately turned out, but it was the staggering resemblance between the two women which was the topic of discussion. Penelope
and Phoebe had taken a mischievous pleasure in dressing their hair alike and wearing very similar gowns of soft green silk, cut revealingly across the shoulders.

Odd scraps reached their ears.

‘Good God! Peas in the pod ain’t in it…’

‘Which one did we meet?’

‘Hope Winton and Darleston can tell ’em apart!’

Peter and Richard exchanged grins as this last remark drifted to their ears. Neither one had the slightest trouble distinguishing his wife, and the suggestion that they might struck them as ridiculous in the extreme.

Lady Edenhope came to greet them, ‘Dear Peter, thank you so much for coming to me first! You have ensured that my party will be gossiped about for days! And Mr Winton, congratulations! Mrs Winton, I wish you happy!’ She turned to Penelope, ‘My dear, allow an old friend of Peter’s to wish you very happy. I knew this wretch in his cradle. His mama and I came out together. We were the best of friends always.’

Penelope smiled and said shyly, ‘Thank you, ma’am. I am so pleased to meet you. Peter has told me all about you.’

‘Well, you must come with me to meet the sharks. I am sure they are all just dying to be presented to you! They all met your sister last year, but we had no idea there were two of you!’ said Lady Edenhope merrily.

‘For heaven’s sake, Aunt Louisa, you’ll be heard!’ said Peter in amusement. ‘I’ll come with you, if I may. You may not have realised, Aunt Louisa, but Penelope is blind, so I have got used to warning her about steps and obstacles.’ He knew as he said this that at least half a dozen people had heard him. The shock on their faces was mirrored in Lady Edenhope’s eyes.

She made a gallant recovery. ‘Oh, you poor girl! Fancy being married to this handsome creature and unable to appreciate him fully!’

Penelope chuckled, ‘Indeed, ma’am. I have been feeling most frustrated ever since my sister described him to me.’

‘Never mind, my dear, he will have to be content with one less admirer. Very likely it will do him good! Come along!’

It was evident to Peter that his mother’s closest friend, having taken a liking to Penelope, meant to make sure she was accepted by the Ton. It was also evident that Lady Edenhope’s sympathetic response, tinged as it was with humour, had gone a long way towards setting Penelope at ease.

However, as she escorted them around the room the whispers sprang up in their wake. Amazement was the most common reaction. Everyone knew the story of the first Lady Darleston, and there were plenty of snide murmurs that Darleston had now picked a girl who would be totally dependent on him. Others, more shrewd, noticed the very obvious affection between the couple and discounted the idea. Some, like Lady Edenhope, who had known Peter well before his disastrous first marriage, were delighted to see him so relaxed and happy.

One of these was Lady Jersey, acknowledged Queen of the Ton. She came up to Peter with words of welcome. ‘Darleston! How delightful to see you! And your bride! Please do introduce us!’

‘Of course. Penelope, this is Lady Jersey, another old friend.’ Peter stood back to watch his wife deal with the voluble peeress, who was living up to her nickname with a vengeance. She rattled on cheerfully
but her inconsequent tongue did not prevent her from taking stock of the situation. Penelope responded to her chatter shyly, but with a humour that won approval from that notoriously high stickler.

‘So difficult for you, Lady Darleston, not being able to see this den of lions you are flung into!’ said Lady Jersey at last. ‘I admire your courage. I vow I should not dare!’

‘I did not dare last year,’ admitted Penelope. ‘But Lord Darleston has convinced me that you are not all ogres and that I must keep him company, at least some of the time.’

‘Excellent! But do you know, Lady Darleston, at one time I feared that Darleston was becoming an ogre himself, and a bit of a recluse? I do think you must take some credit for halting the process. He is such a decorative addition to London!’

‘So I have been told, Lady Jersey. But Lady Edenhope assures me it will do him good to have one admirer the less!’

A charming ripple of laughter greeted this answer, ‘I’m sure it will! Lady Darleston, it has been delightful to meet you. I shall call on you in the near future and bring you vouchers for the, er…shark-pool, I think Lady Edenhope would call it!’

She moved away graciously to spread the word that Lady Darleston was quite delightful. A pity she was blind, of course, but if she and Darleston were happy there was an end to the matter. And, really, anything must be better than his marrying Caroline Daventry! Oh, good heavens! One would have had to receive her!

As Peter watched her go he said softly to Penelope, ‘Well done! She means to give you vouchers for Almack’s.’

‘Was that what she meant?’ asked Penelope. ‘Goodness, I shall have to practise my dancing!’

‘What an excellent idea!’ said Peter. ‘I shall be delighted to assist you!’ Then, seeing George Carstares making his way through the crush towards them, ‘Good God, here’s George. What made you so late? We gave up and left without you!’

‘My cravat. Matter of extreme importance! Hello, Penny. Enjoying yourself? Devilish squeeze, ain’t it? Your cousin’s here, Peter.’

‘Jack? How charming!’ Peter looked keenly around the room, and immediately spotted his cousin near the refreshment tables.

Jack Frobisher was looking straight at him. His face was mask-like as his eyes met Peter’s icy glare and swung back to his companion. Peter recognised her at once. Lady Caroline Daventry! The voluptuous blonde turned to gaze across at him. He returned the look coldly, observing the scornful half-smile on her lips as her eyes raked Penelope. Deliberately he stepped in front of Penelope, presenting his back to his erstwhile mistress.

‘Can’t say I care for his choice of companion,’ commented George in a thoughtful tone of voice, missing none of this by-play. He cocked a mobile eyebrow at Peter.

‘Neither do I,’ was the quiet answer. Peter was thinking furiously. Jack was one thing. He could probably be frightened off. But Lady Caroline was another matter. She had enough intelligence to be extremely dangerous. She had steered clear of open scandal but it was well known that she had been his mistress. Was Jack cultivating her assistance?

Peter could well imagine how angry she must have
been that her plot to entrap him had failed. Her rage at his swift marriage must have been beyond belief, he thought sardonically.

‘Who is it?’ asked Penelope curiously. She could hear the edge in Peter’s voice and feel the tension in his body.

He said lightly, ‘No one that you would know, my dear.’ Not to save his life could he have brought himself to mention his ex-mistress to Penelope. Penelope turned to him and he saw that she was wearing what he thought of as her ‘second-sight look’.

He knew quite well that she was not fooled when she forbore to ask any further questions, merely saying, ‘Oh, well, I suppose we can start our campaign to scare the skirter!’

‘We can,’ said Peter with a reluctant grin. ‘But for heaven’s sake don’t use that sort of language in company! People will think George and I taught it to you!’

‘More likely to blame my father, if they were at all acquainted with him!’ said Penelope with a laugh.

Richard and Phoebe came up at that moment. ‘Have you seen who’s here?’ asked Richard, jerking his head in the direction of the unsavoury pair.

‘Of course,’ answered Peter. ‘George was just saying that the combination is not a pleasant one.’ He looked at Richard evenly. Richard, of course, was perfectly aware of the earlier connection between Darleston and the lovely Lady Caroline. He knew something, too, of the lady’s reputation for harbouring grudges, but correctly deduced that Peter would prefer to leave her out of the discussion at present.

Phoebe, being quite unaware of all this, said innocently, ‘I don’t think I know the lady with him.’ She stared through a break in the eddying crowd, just as
Lady Caroline turned towards them again. ‘Oh! Yes, I do! It’s Lady Caroline Daventry. Well, she’s very beautiful but I don’t like her much. She was rather horrid to me in a polite way after you danced with me at Almack’s, Peter.’

‘Which reminds me,’ said Peter smoothly, ‘that I have never danced with my wife, and I observe that the orchestra is beginning a waltz. May I have the honour, Lady Darleston? You did say that you wished to practise didn’t you?’

‘I didn’t mean in public!’ she protested. ‘Are you sure you wish to, Peter?’

‘Of course. We shall stay near the edge. Anyway, by this time the gossip that you are blind has been around the room half a dozen times. Trust Sally Jersey for that!’

He led her to the dance floor and swung her into the dance. At first Penelope was nervous, but Peter was very good at steering her away from possible trouble. Gradually, as she relaxed, she began to enjoy the dance.

Peter felt the change and said in a bantering tone, ‘See! I am not such a bad dancer after all. It might interest you to know that lots of people are staring at us in the rudest way. You’d think they had never seen me dance with a beautiful woman before!’

‘I’m sure you have danced with many, my lord,’ answered Penelope, smiling up at him affectionately.

‘Of course, it adds to my consequence!’ said Peter laughing. They continued to chat easily throughout the dance, and Peter kept Penelope in a ripple of laughter with his at times caustic comments on the people they passed.

Richard watched the pair and said softly to George,
‘I was against this marriage, you know. But it looks as if I was wrong. I haven’t seen Penny this happy in company for years. And she is happy, isn’t she, Phoebe?’ He turned to his wife.

‘Oh, yes!’ said Phoebe. ‘She could not appear so relaxed if she did not like and trust him.’

‘I think it has been good for Peter too,’ agreed George. ‘Did my level best to talk him out of it, but it’s the best thing he could have done. Oh, good evening, Lady Castlereagh.’ He greeted one of the patronesses of Almack’s.

‘Good evening, Mr Carstares, Mr Winton, Mrs Winton,’ said that stately lady. ‘I have just been remarking to Lady Jersey how happy Lord Darleston appears. It must be a great pleasure to all his friends to see him look so much like his old self. Mrs Winton, allow me to wish you happy. I believe I have not seen you since your marriage.’

Phoebe blushed, smiling. Lady Castlereagh had always been very kind. ‘I believe that you and Lady Darleston are twins! I do hope your mother and husbands can tell you apart, for I am sure that I should not be able to!’

‘It is very easy, Lady Castlereagh,’ said Richard. ‘My sister-in-law, as you must have heard, is blind. She is generally accompanied everywhere by a very large dog who guides her every move!’

‘But not at a ball!’ said Lady Castlereagh with a twinkle.

‘No, ma’am. Here she must rely on Darleston and her family,’ agreed Richard gravely.

‘Quite so. Ah, here they come. Darleston, I congratulate you! And Lady Darleston, I wish you very happy indeed. I have just been saying to your sister
that I should find it impossible to tell the pair of you apart. But Mr Winton informs me that your dog attends you everywhere, so when in doubt I must depend upon that! Allow me to assure you that he will always be welcome in my drawing room if you are so kind as to call!’

Penelope stammered a confused thank-you. The thought of making morning calls without Gelert had been a source of worry to her. If Lady Castlereagh accepted him in her home every other lady of fashion would follow her lead.