Happily Bedded Bliss: The Rakes of Cavendish Square (28 page)

“I am, yes.” She smiled softly, her thoughts drifting to her husband. “Very happy.”

He studied her, then relaxed, his shoulders visibly easing. “I have worried over the matter, you know, fearing that you felt you had no other choice.”

Actually, at the time, she had felt that she did not have any other choice but to marry Gabriel or be ruined. But as she had just told Eversley, everything had worked out well in the end. Worked out as it was surely meant to be.

“I love my husband, Lord Eversley. Truly, trouble yourself no more on the subject.”

Suddenly, he smiled. “You have always been so generous of spirit, Lady Esme. I mean, Lady Northcote. I hope that you might be generous again and say we may continue to be friends.”

“I should like nothing better.”

They shared another companionable smile.

“Only look, a new set is forming. May I have the honor of this next dance?” he asked.

“Oh, I . . .” What excuse could she possibly give? Then again, why should she and Lord Eversley not dance? The awkwardness was past. It was time to turn over a new leaf. “Yes, thank you. I would be delighted.”

Taking her hand, he led her out onto the dance floor.

•   •   •

After nearly an hour, Gabriel walked back into the ballroom. He’d won a nice bit of cash, but the play bored him, his mind far too frequently on Esme rather than the cards in his hands.

She’d promised him supper together, so he’d come to collect her early. If the gossips wanted to wag their tongues about him dancing attendance on his wife, let them. Far worse things had been said of him and would no doubt be said again.

He stood scanning the ballroom in search of her when the last person on earth with whom he wished to converse slipped up beside him.

“Why, if it isn’t Gabriel Landsdowne in the flesh. Who would ever have thought to find you at such a respectable entertainment? I was so surprised when I realized it was you that I had to come over and say hello.”

He looked down at the woman at his side. Amanda Coyning, older yet still beautiful in a cold, serpentine kind of way. He couldn’t remember the last time they’d spoken—sometime after she’d betrayed him by breaking off their engagement but long enough ago that he had no real recollection of the date or occasion.

Then, of course, there had been the night roughly six years ago when she’d been between husbands and had tried to interest him in a tryst. He’d rebuffed her with a cutting, and very public, refusal that had made her shake with humiliation and rage. She’d hated him ever since.

“How do you do, Amanda? Or should I say Lady—” He broke off. “What is it now? I’ve lost track of all your last names; you’ve had so many.”

“Nibblehampton,” she said stiffly.

“Good Lord, he must be rolling in money for you to put up with that ridiculous surname.”

“Actually, he is amazingly kind, like you used to be a long time ago.”

“A
very
long time ago.” His lips twitched with wry amusement. “What do you want, Amanda?”

“Why is it I have to want something?” She pouted.

“Because if you didn’t, you wouldn’t be you.”

And suddenly he realized how true that statement was. Amanda always had been the sort who continually craved more, even when she’d been a girl. No matter how much she had, be it tea biscuits or precious gemstones, it was never enough to suit. When he thought back, he remembered that she’d always been wheedling some gift from him, usually something he hadn’t been comfortably able to afford. Because he’d been young and she’d been so pretty, he’d been willing to overlook her shortcomings, choosing to see only her outward beauty while making excuses for the ugly selfishness that lay inside.

But Esme wasn’t like that. Even if she someday lost all her looks and became as wrinkled and bent as an old crone, she would still be beautiful, because that’s what she was inside. Esme sparkled like diamonds, while Amanda was nothing but paste.

He looked at Amanda and felt something he’d never felt for her before.

Pity.

With a touch of sadness.

For she would never know real love or happiness. Emotionally, she would live alone and die alone, as empty and unmourned as any person could be.

He already knew he’d been a fool to have ever thought he loved her. But tonight he realized he hadn’t even known what real love was. Now he did, now that he had Esme.

His old anger toward Amanda fell away. She’d wounded him, but it didn’t hurt anymore. It would never hurt again.

“As I said, I was surprised to see you here,” Amanda drawled. “Entertainments such as this aren’t really your style.”

“Or yours.”

She shrugged. “My husband’s daughter-in-law is a friend of Lady Cooper and persuaded me to come.
Since it is so early in the Season, I thought it might be a good way to pass the evening. Little did I realize I would find you here along with your new bride. By the way, if you are looking for her, she is out on the dance floor. Ah, there she is now, if I am not mistaken.”

Gabriel’s eyes were drawn across the room to where Esme was indeed dancing, her skirts whirling as she moved to the music.

Amanda idly tapped a fan against one palm. “If I am also not mistaken, her partner is Lord Eversley. He’s a former beau of hers who paid avid court to her last Season. When he was invited to Braebourne last autumn, everyone assumed an engagement between them was all but settled. Imagine the shock when she married you instead, and under less than usual circumstances. There was a scandal of some sort, I believe?”

He tried to ignore Amanda’s venom; her real goal in seeking him out having just been revealed. But the damage was already done, since he could not unhear her words.

He turned deliberately indifferent eyes upon her. “My wife is a beautiful woman. I am sure she had many beaux last Season, but I am the man she chose to wed. Now, if you will excuse me, Lady Nibblehampton.” He executed a quick bow and strode away before she could say anything else.

The dance had just finished by the time he reached Esme and her former beau. They came off the dance floor, the man laughing at something she had said.

So that was Eversley, was it? Now that Gabriel saw him, he didn’t like the look of the fellow, and most particularly the admiring way he was gazing at Esme. She’d told him that Eversley had meant nothing to her. But what of Eversley? Did he feel the same?

Gabriel scowled at the thought.

Esme stopped when she saw Gabriel, her smile brightening as he drew near. “Well, hello,” she said. “I wasn’t expecting you back so soon. You didn’t run into bad luck at the tables, did you?”

“Not a bit. I won quite handily, as it happens. But you promised me supper, so I have come to collect you.”

“Goodness, is it that time already?” She opened her fan and waved it in front of her pink cheeks, Lord Eversley waiting beside her. “Oh, forgive me, Lord Eversley,” she said, turning her gaze toward the other man, “but have you met my husband, Lord Northcote? Gabriel, this is Lord Eversley.”

The men exchanged bows.

“A pleasure,” Eversley said.

“Indeed.”

Their eyes locked as they surveyed each other. Eversley looked away first.

Gabriel offered his arm. “If you are ready, my dear, shall we go in?”

“Oh, yes, of course.” Before taking his arm, though, she turned to Eversley. “Thank you for the dance. I am glad we had an opportunity to renew our acquaintance.”

“As am I.” Eversley smiled. “I look forward to seeing you again soon.”

Before he could go on, Gabriel secured her hand on his arm and led her away. “So, he’s the one, is he?”

“The one?” She looked puzzled.

“The man you told me about before we were married. The suitor everyone assumed you would wed.”

“Oh, that. Well, people assume a great many things that never come to pass.”

“Your family included?”

She stopped and turned to face him. “Yes, even my family on occasion.”

“Then what’s he doing sniffing around you again?”

Her eyes widened. “He’s not
sniffing
. He asked me
to dance. This is a ball, Gabriel. Dancing is one of the things people do at balls.”

“Hmmph.” He curved an arm around her waist and drew her near. “Well, in future I would prefer you dance only with me.”

She smiled. “I wouldn’t mind that in the slightest. But as we discussed earlier, we’re trying to steer people’s attention away from us, rather than focus it on us even more. Eversley is an old acquaintance, Gabriel, nothing more. And Society being what it is, I was bound to cross paths with him at some point.”

“I suppose so.”

But she was right and he was quite likely overreacting. She must have had many suitors last Season. If he complained about them all, he would spend the next several weeks in an angry lather. Still, as much as she said that Eversley was as harmless as one of her pets, Gabriel didn’t believe it. Eversley was a man, after all, and Esme was a beautiful woman. Besides, he’d seen the way Eversley had looked at her. The way any normal warm-blooded man would look at her.

He waited to see if she would say more. When she didn’t, he decided to let the matter drop.

“Can we go in to supper now?” she asked. “I’m starved. I hope they serve something other than lobster patties and caviar.”

He linked their arms again and started toward the dining room. “Never fear, my dear. I won’t let you starve. I shall go to the kitchens myself if need be and raid the larder for bread and cheese.”

She laughed and leaned against him. “My hero.”

T
he Season officially began twelve days later, just after Easter Sunday. Invitations flooded in, and callers knocked on the front door of Landsdowne House with far greater frequency than either she or Gabriel might have wished. Their days of peaceful togetherness were over, at least for the near future. They spent their days and evenings at one entertainment or another, even though they hadn’t planned to participate in the tumult.

They did ride together each morning, savoring the early hour, when the park was green and uncrowded as they cantered from one end to the other. And they slept together at night, curling into each other’s arms even on the rare occasions when they did not make love.

But by mid-April, Esme was longing to go home to Ten Elms. She didn’t voice her wish to Gabriel, though, unsure if he would come with her and unwilling to chance his refusal if he would not. And so she stayed in London, had lunch and tea with friends and attended parties with Gabriel in the evening, all the while craving the serenity of the countryside and the single-minded focus of losing herself in her painting, which she had also had to temporarily put on hold.

She had another reason for wanting to leave the city, though it was a suspicion rather than a fact at the moment. But she’d been feeling overly tired of late and a little queasy at the unlikeliest times of day. At first, she’d put her symptoms down to too little sleep and the demands of the Season.

But recently she’d begun to wonder if there might be another reason. A happier reason. Namely, she thought she might be with child. It was an idea that
filled her with equal measures of joy and trepidation. After all, what did she know about being a mother? But the more the idea took hold, the more she wanted it to be true.

Still, she decided not to say anything to Gabriel, at least not until she knew for certain. She assumed he would be pleased, but what if he wasn’t? He still had not professed any kind of love for her, but each day with him was better than the last. He seemed, well, almost happy, and she wanted nothing to disrupt their marital bliss.

The only dark cloud to mar their newfound contentment was an occasional sighting of Sidney Landsdowne and his family. She’d experienced an almost electric jolt the first time their paths had crossed at a soirée, roughly two weeks after the start of the Season.

She’d just finished having a cozy chat with another young matron with whom she’d made her come-out last Season when she turned around and found herself standing barely two feet away from Gabriel’s despicable uncle. She’d darted a glance to her side, wanting to flee, but a lifetime of etiquette had kept her rooted to the spot. Giving Gabriel’s uncle the cut direct, no matter how hateful he might be, would be sure to unleash a firestorm of gossip among the
Ton
. And so, despite her personal repugnance for the man, she’d forced a smile and sunk into a curtsy.

Sidney Landsdowne bowed politely in return, his pale features betraying not so much as a hint of the enmity that had passed between them during their last unpleasant encounter, at Ten Elms.

“Niece,” he said.

“Uncle,” she replied.

His eyes were as blue as an icy lake as they swept over her. “You are looking well. City life must obviously agree with you.”

“Indeed, it does. And you as well. Are you newly arrived in Town?”

“We’ve been in residence a short while. We arrived
in time for Gillian to be presented to the queen. But come, allow me to make you known to more of your new family. My wife, Enid, and daughter, Gillian. Alas, my sons, your cousins, are not here in London at present or I would introduce them as well.”

It was only then that Esme noticed the pair of blond women waiting as silent as wraiths nearby. The older woman’s thin lips were set in a sour pucker of barely veiled disapproval, her eyes as glacial a blue as her husband’s. As for her cousin Gillian, Esme couldn’t tell much yet. The girl was a pretty, diminutive blonde whose looks reminded Esme of some of the portraits in the gallery at Ten Elms. To Esme’s surprise, Gillian gave her a tentative smile. Esme gave her one in return, wondering if the other girl might be shy rather than cold like her parents.

Landsdowne’s gaze moved over Esme, then stopped as his eyes fixed suddenly on the emerald necklace around her throat before traveling up to the tiara in her hair. “Are those some of the Landsdowne jewels?”

Instinctively, Esme touched her fingers to the necklace. “Why yes, I believe they are. Gabriel gave them to me only recently. They’re quite lovely, don’t you think?”

“No, I don’t think.” Landsdowne looked suddenly murderous.

Esme took a step back.

“Look what he’s done to them.” Sidney’s hands turned to fists.

“Are you surprised to discover that he’s ruined them?” Enid said, speaking for the first time. “I told you, you ought to have buried the jewels somewhere and told him they’d been lost.”

Esme listened, dismayed by the reaction and confused by the remarks.

Suddenly, a familiar arm curved around her waist. It was with relief that she felt Gabriel pull her into the protection of his hold.

“What are you doing, Uncle?” Gabriel said in a
deceptively smooth voice that was low enough not to carry beyond their group. “I thought I was quite clear when we had our little talk last week that you were not to engage my wife in conversation. Or have you forgotten already?”

Gillian’s eyes grew round. Clearly she wasn’t used to people reprimanding her father.

“People would think it odd had I not spoken to her, Northcote.” Sidney’s hands flexed at his sides. “Enid and Gillian as well. Just keeping up the social pretense and all that.”

“Well, the pretense has been satisfied. Aunt. Cousin Gillian.” Gabriel inclined his head, then turned to Esme. “Come, let us away. I believe a dance is about to begin.”

“Not so fast, boy.” Sidney couldn’t hide the sneer that moved across his face. “Those jewels have been in the family for over two hundred years.”

“And they are still in the family. They just got a bit of much-needed refurbishment.”

Sidney’s eyes wheeled in his head as if he were on the verge of an apoplexy.

“Smile, Uncle. Remember the family reputation, tarnished though it may be,” Gabriel said softly. “People are beginning to stare.”

Enid stepped closer to Sidney and took his arm. “Much as it pains me to agree, he is right. Let us go find some refreshments.”

“Listen to Aunt Enid,” Gabriel said. “After all, you have Cousin Gillian to consider. You wouldn’t want people talking and spoiling her Season, now, would you?”

“I wish I could take my belt to you,” Sidney said on a near whisper.

Gabriel stiffened. “I know, but I’m no longer the defenseless boy I once was. You no longer frighten me, Uncle, so I would have a care if I were you. From now on, let us agree to keep our distance, most particularly you from my wife. If I see you harassing her again, I
promise you won’t like the hell I will rain down upon you.”

Gillian squeaked and covered her mouth with a hand while Enid’s thin lips nearly disappeared in a tight line of displeasure. As for Sidney, he still looked as if he’d like to strike Gabriel.

“Fine,” Sidney said suddenly. “So long as you abide by your word on that other matter we previously discussed, Northcote.” Sidney’s eyes brushed quickly over his daughter, who looked on in alarmed confusion. “Believe me. It will be a pleasure to pretend you and your new bride do not exist.”

“Likewise.” Gabriel tightened his hold on Esme.

“Enid. Gillian. Come.” Turning on his heel, Sidney stalked away, the two women following obediently.

“Good heavens, what an unpleasant man he is,” Esme said as she and Gabriel moved away in the opposite direction. “Your aunt isn’t a great deal better.”

“No. She and my uncle are well suited when it comes to their vile temperaments.”

Esme frowned. “Surprisingly, Gillian seems like a sweet girl. I feel rather sorry for her.”

“As you ought, with parents like those. Luckily, they’ve always doted on her, from what I’ve been able to observe, so other than being strictly raised, I believe she is well treated.”

Esme was relieved to hear that. “What was that other cryptic remark your uncle made regarding Gillian? Have the two of you been discussing her?”

Gabriel met her gaze, turning her toward him as they reached the edge of the dance floor. “It’s nothing over which you need to be concerned. Just more of his usual blustering. All is well.”

Esme studied him, then nodded. “If you say so. I do think I’ll put in a good word about Gillian with some of the ladies I know here in Town. She shouldn’t be made to suffer just because you and I do not get along with her parents.”

Gabriel smiled. “You have far too tender a heart, my
dear. Forever trying to help others. If only Gillian knew she has a new champion in you.”

“I shall know.” Esme moved into his arms as the music began. “Sometimes just knowing is more than enough.”

•   •   •

Esme was standing inside Hatchards bookstore one afternoon during the third week of April, looking over the new works of fiction they had in stock, when the bell rang on the front door. Idly, she glanced up and saw Lord Eversley walk inside. Moments later, he noticed her too. A smile creased his face as he approached.

Although she didn’t see him often, they had spoken a few times since renewing their acquaintance at the Coopers’ ball. He was always an amiable companion and to her relief seemed to have gotten past whatever romantic hopes he might once have harbored for her. Instead, he had been true to his word to be a friend.

“Lady Northcote.” He bowed. “What a happy coincidence, finding you here. I didn’t realize you were a reader.”

She curtsied in return. “Yes, on occasion, I have been known to pick up a book. I am pleased to see that you do the same.”

“I do. Although today I am here on an errand for a friend.”

After a couple of minutes of casual conversation, he turned to give his friend’s order to the clerk, while she made her own literary selection. They stood chatting pleasantly afterward as her purchases were being wrapped up.

“Are you in a hurry to return home now?” he asked as they walked out of the shop and stepped onto the pavement.

“Not a hurry, no. Why do you ask?”

“Oh, no reason.” He tugged at the cuff of one sleeve, appearing suddenly uncertain. “Well, that’s not strictly true, but I ought not to have raised the subject.”

“It would seem you already have, though I do not know to what subject you are referring.”

“It’s only that I could use a lady’s opinion, since I’ve no knack for doing these things on my own and all my female relations are out of Town at present.”

Torn between exasperation and amusement at his rambling, she reached out and briefly touched his arm. “Lord Eversley, please, I beseech you. Just tell me what you require.”

He stopped and met her gaze. “Forgive me, dear lady. My nerves are getting the best of me. You see, I am planning to ask a certain young lady to marry me.”

“Oh.” She smiled. “How wonderful. My felicitations. Might I ask the name of the lucky girl, or would you prefer to keep it a secret?”

He studied her. “Well, I suppose there’s no harm, considering we have you to thank for our happiness, at least in part.”

“Me? How can I possibly be responsible?”

“Why because you brought us to one another’s attention, of course. Or rather you helped bring her to
my
attention.”

Her forehead creased. “In what way? Who is the young woman with whom you are smitten?”

“Lettice Waxhaven.”

Her eyebrows shot to the top of her head and her mouth dropped open.

“I’d met her before, of course, but I’d never really taken the time to get to know her,” Eversley continued, too busy talking to notice what Esme was sure must be a look of utter stupefaction on her face.

“We shared a coach, she and her mother and I, when we left Braebourne,” he said. “Lettice and I got to talking. She’s really quite a wonderful girl, very giving and thoughtful. And so sporty. Did you know she loves lawn bowling and archery? I had no idea we shared so many interests in common.”

Esme would never have associated any of those descriptions with mean, spiteful Lettice Waxhaven. But
maybe she hadn’t really gotten to know the real Lettice either. Perhaps jealousy had caused the other girl to behave the way she had around Esme. Because if there was one thing she remembered about Lettice, it was the fact that she had been desperately in love with Lord Eversley.

And now it would appear he was in love with her too and about to pop the question.

“Well, I am delighted for you both,” she said. “But I really don’t see how I can be of assistance.”

“As I said, if you can spare the time, I’m on my way now to pick out an engagement ring. I realize it’s a dreadful imposition, but if you could help me, I would be immensely grateful.”

“Oh, I’m not sure that’s such a good idea. I don’t really know Lettice’s taste,” she hedged.

“But you’re a woman. Anything you choose would have to be better than anything I’d select.”

She hesitated, worrying her lower lip between her teeth as she decided whether or not to be completely honest. “Eversley, I know you mean well, but I don’t think Lettice would like knowing it was me who helped choose her wedding ring.”

“Why not?”

“Well, she doesn’t really like me.”

He brushed off her remark. “Of course she does. She even told me how sorry she is for what happened that night at Braebourne. How she didn’t really mean to bump into you and that she’s felt dreadful about it ever since.”

Esme rather doubted that tale. On the other hand, she supposed that if it were not for Lettice Waxhaven’s actions, her drawing of Gabriel would never have been revealed. And if the drawing hadn’t been revealed she would never have met and married Gabriel and fallen in love. When she considered it in that light, she supposed she was the one who owed Lettice a debt of gratitude. Still . . .

“Very well,” she said, “but swear you won’t tell her
I helped you. A lady likes to think her groom made the choice all by himself.”