Authors: Marlene Suson
Chapter 22
Lady Roxley had heard nothing from Ashley since the day her children had arrived in London, and with each passing day she grew increasingly concerned and incredulous. Why did he not come? Nothing was going the way Estelle had anticipated.
Then Sir Percival Plymtree’s version of Vinson’s marriage reached her interested ears, and she asked him to call on her so that she might hear it from his own lips.
“You need not worry, beautiful Estelle,” he assured her. “No man, especially not a man of Vinson’s taste, is going to lose his heart to that farouche creature. She so bored him that he left her behind and fled back to London.”
Estelle was delighted. “How humiliating for her.”
“To give Vinson credit, he did concoct some Banbury tale about her remaining behind at Bellhaven because her father was dying.” Sir Percival gave a loud sniff. “What a faradiddle that was. As I have been quick to point out to everyone, Levisham made such an immediate and remarkable recovery that he married again a fortnight after Vinson’s departure from Bellhaven. That hardly sounds like a man at death’s door.”
“The marquess cannot be happy about Ashley deserting his daughter before the ink is dry on their marriage certificate,” Estelle observed.
“Of course he is not. I wager that is why Vinson brought her to London yesterday.”
“She’s here?” Estelle exclaimed, consumed by curiosity to see her lover’s wife.
“But don’t expect to see them soon. They are not receiving callers or accepting any invitations at present.” Plymtree gave a nasty little laugh. “Vinson is clearly too embarrassed to introduce his poor awkward wife to society. I hear that he has ordered her a lavish wardrobe from Madame Balan to be completed in such great haste that the first fittings are scheduled for this afternoon. But it will take more than even Balan’s genius to make that anecdote presentable.”
Estelle, eager to reassure herself with her own eyes of Caro’s unattractiveness, smiled at this bit of intelligence. Perhaps she, too, would pay Madame Balan a visit that afternoon.
Caro, watching Lady Bourn descend from her carriage and glide as lightly as a cloud toward the door of Madame Balan’s shop in Charlotte Street, was determined to copy the countess’s graceful walk.
In the short time that she had known her mother-in-law, Caro had come to regard this charming, bubbly woman with love and awe. The countess even professed to be amused, rather than shocked, by her daughter-in-law’s candid tongue and encouraged her confidences with understanding and sympathy.
Caro followed her mother-in-law into the elegant shop. Exquisite examples of Madame’s wares—ball gowns, morning dresses, riding habits, even a wedding dress—were on display in the showroom. Next to them, Caro felt exceedingly dowdy and out of place in her plain, skimpy gown of blue cambric.
A pretty young woman in a spotted muslin gown that was surely another one of Madame’s creations presided over the showroom. It had been outfitted like a large, opulent sitting room with Louis Quinze chairs and sofas. A round rosewood table covered with sketches of Madame’s designs caught Caro’s eye.
The young woman, recognizing the countess, said that Madame Balan wished Milady to try on her new ball gown before beginning the extensive fittings her daughter-in-law’s new wardrobe would require.
Lady Bourn, seeing Caro’s interest in the sketches, suggested that she remain behind to examine them for styles that she liked. Caro took a chair at the rosewood table while her mother-in-law disappeared through a curtained door. Caro knew from Grace and Jane that all of London’s best-dressed ladies patronized Madame Balan’s.
The young woman in the spotted muslin asked whether Caro would like tea. When she replied in the affirmative, the girl also disappeared through the curtained doorway.
After studying the sketches for some minutes, Caro rose from the table to examine more closely the intricately jeweled bodice of a satin ball gown displayed nearby. Hearing the door to the shop open behind her, she turned to behold the most ravishingly beautiful woman she had ever seen. Her face, with its lustrous complexion, seemed perfect in every feature, as did her form, which was elegantly displayed in a perfectly fitted gown of amethyst silk that was the same shade as her fascinating eyes.
Caro could only stare at this dazzling woman, who returned her scrutiny with equal interest, making Caro acutely conscious of how ugly and awkward she looked by comparison. This intense mutual inspection continued for a long moment before the stranger’s amethyst eyes glowed with an unholy delight that startled Caro. The stranger turned abruptly and left the shop without a word.
Through the window, Caro saw her enter a handsomely lacquered carriage that had drawn up in front of Ashley’s.
Caro was still puzzling over the beauty’s odd behavior when she was led to a fitting room, where she
quickly forgot
the woman and all else but the wardrobe that her husband had chosen for her.
Unlike the gowns that her aunt had selected, these were artfully designed to capitalize on her tiny figure, making her look daintily petite instead of awkwardly boyish. It was an exciting revelation to Caro to see how much more attractive she looked in them. And the colors became her, too. There were no pinks or bright yellows or purples or blacks, the shades her aunt had always selected because they became her daughters so well. Instead, Ashley had chosen salmon, deep peach, gold, and other shades that brought out the warmth of Caro’s skin tones rather than making her look sallow.
Perhaps there was hope for her yet, she thought, more determined than ever to become a wife Ashley would be proud of.
When Caro and her mother-in-law returned home, a hairdresser was waiting. After a consultation with Ashley, he cut her hair. When he was finished, her very short locks, looking darker and richer now that the faded ends had been cut away, curled charmingly about her face, softening it so that she now looked like a mischievous pixie.
As she stared in amazement at her new reflection in the mirror, she exclaimed to Ashley, “How different I look! And it is such a relief to be rid of all that dreadful hair.” That night when Ashley led Caro upstairs, he followed her into her apartment.
She turned to him happily. “Thank you again for my beautiful gowns. I love them all.”
He smiled, clearly pleased. “You are entirely welcome. Madame Balan has promised to deliver a completed riding habit tomorrow afternoon. Would you like to go riding in the park with me the following morning?”
“Oh, yes!” Caro cried, clapping her hands in delight. She had loved her morning rides with Ashley at Bellhaven. “Can we ride every morning?”
“I think, elfin, after you go into society, you will prefer to sleep later in the morning and ride in the afternoon with the rest of the ton.”
“But I like it when there is no one else about but us.”
He smiled. “So do I, elfin. Since your maid does not arrive until tomorrow, I had better help you with the buttons on your dress. I do not believe you can manage them by yourself.”
Ashley was right. She was wearing a high-necked muslin gown fastened by a long row of tiny cloth buttons that extended down her back.
Ashley’s hands gently touched the back of her neck. A tiny shudder of excitement shook Caro. When he had opened the first few buttons, his lips caressed the nape of her neck, so exquisitely sensitive to his touch, with soft kisses. Then, after skillfully undoing the lower fastenings, his lips followed his fingers down her back, tracing it with more kisses. His mouth returned to nuzzle her neck and ear as his hands slipped between the gown and her shift. He gently stroked her belly, sending shock waves through her. A moan of pleasure, which seemed to have been wrenched from the depths of her soul, escaped from her lips.
“Shall I bid you good night, elfin?” he whispered, his seductive voice very close to her ear, tickling it with his warm breath.
“What are you doing to me?” She gasped as his hands, moving with tantalizing slowness, cupped her small, firm breasts, sending a tongue of fire licking through her.
“Giving you a hint of the pleasure a husband can bring to his wife.” He turned her around so that she faced him, and his lips claimed hers in a kiss that was deeper, more demanding, and more thrilling than any he had yet given her.
When he lifted his mouth, she could only stare up at him in mute wonder at what he had stirred within her. His gleaming green eyes stared down into hers. “What is it you want, elfin?”
She stared at him, mesmerized by his eyes and his touch. He took a step away from her, and she swayed toward him, a silent entreaty in her eyes.
He smiled. “Shall I stay with you tonight, elfin?”
She nodded, helpless before her yearning for him.
Caro stirred and came drowsily awake as she felt the arm that held her in an embrace that was both possessive and protective. Memories of the night with Ashley, so sweet and satisfying, swept through her, filling her with warmth and consuming happiness.
Her eyes fluttered open. Light had crept into the room around the edges of the heavy drapes. Beside her, Ashley stirred and tightened his hold on her, his body exuding an inviting warmth in the coolness of dawn. Caro stared lovingly at his features, barely discernible in the faint illumination. In repose, he looked like a young boy, his face relaxed and his thick dark hair tousled.
Caro closed her eyes and smiled dreamily. The night had been worth waiting for. So different from what she could ever have dreamed of after her experience with Tilford.
Ashley had told her that it would be different with him and, as usual, he had been right. He had been so tender and gentle with her, slowly caressing and teasing her until she thought she would die from the turbulent desires that he stoked in her. Only then had he allowed her a satisfaction that exploded in an incandescent burst, that had left her stunned and blissfully content.
But why had he, having married her only for an heir, waited so long to make her fully his? Was she that unattractive to him? This question revived all of her insecurities about her marriage.
Gentle fingertips lightly brushed her cheek. “What are you thinking about, elfin?” Ashley’s voice was deep and groggy.
She had thought him asleep, and her eyes flew open in surprise at the sound of his voice. “Last night,” she admitted.
Concern creased his face. “Then why the frown? Did you not like it?”
She made no attempt to hide her feelings. “It was so wonderful that I wondered why you waited so long.”
“I was afraid that I would frighten you, elfin,” he answered simply. “I wanted to be certain that you were comfortable with me and wished for my attention first.”
Her eyes widened in surprise at his unexpected answer. “Truly?”
“Truly, elfin,” he replied, kissing her tenderly.
Caro’s heart swelled with love for him, and she silently renewed her vow to be the kind of wife he wanted.
Chapter 23
On the night of Lady Jersey’s ball, Caro glided down the wide curving staircase of Bourn House to the entry hall, where she caught sight of herself in one of the big, gilt-framed mirrors. She could scarcely believe that the image of the singularly striking young lady reflected there could possibly be her. How different she looked from the girl who had arrived at Bourn House only a fortnight ago.
This change, which Caro viewed as nothing short of miraculous, she owed to her new French maid, Helene, her mother-in-law, and, most of all, her husband.
Helene had very lightly applied her magic from various mysterious jars and bottles to highlight Caro’s eyes, fine high cheekbones, and pretty mouth.
To Lady Bourn, Caro owed a newfound grace of movement and confidence of manner.
It was Ashley who had selected the peach satin gown, the most flattering she had ever owned in her life, that she wore tonight. And it was Ashley who had given her the special glow of a woman deeply in love who has been well loved in return.
The door to the library opened, and he came into the entry hall. His blue evening coat, cut away at the waist, and black pantaloons had been tailored to fit his long, trim body with its slim hips and muscular shoulders. A
white silk
waistcoat, embroidered with silver, peeked from beneath the coat.
Seeing her, his eyes glowed with obvious appreciation. “How lovely you look tonight, elfin,” he said.
“You and Helene have performed a miracle. You have made me pretty.”
“No,” he demurred. “You were always pretty, elfin. We have shown you how to reveal it. Your aunt worked so hard to conceal it.”
As Caro rode with Ashley and her mother-in-law to Lady Jersey’s ball for her debut into society, she faced the night ahead of her with an assurance that she had not possessed a fortnight ago. Still, she could not help being nervous at the thought of being introduced to the denizens of the Polite World. Lady Bourn had said that the ball would be an enormous squeeze. Everyone would be there. Caro so wanted them, and, above all, Ashley himself, to think her a wife worthy of him.
You must learn to mind your tongue.
Turning worried eyes to her husband, Caro promised in a subdued voice, “I will try very hard to curb my tongue tonight so that I do not embarrass you.”
“No, I pray that you do not do so on my account, elfin. It is part of your charm, and you will not embarrass me. As a modish young matron, you will have more license to speak your mind than when you were an unmarried girl. Do not censor yourself, and most particularly not on my account.”
“Truly?”
“Truly!” He grinned at her. “I promised you that I would be a an easy husband.”
Yes, he was, and a most satisfying one, too. He had spent a great deal of time with her since their arrival in London, acting to perfection the role of attentive, doting husband. She had treasured these hours with him. Each day she had grown more in love with him.
Now, as their carriage stopped in front of Lady Jersey’s, Caro thought that she had never been happier in her life.
When they were announced, Caro suddenly felt as though every eye was upon her. And she was right. The unflattering stories that Sir Percival had circulated about her and her marriage, coupled with her delayed introduction to society, had made her the chief topic of conversation among the ton. An appearance by Princess Charlotte, the Regent’s daughter and heir, could not have created more of a stir. Ashley’s reassuring arm about her and his warm smile of encouragement quickly shored up Caro’s confidence, and she gracefully made her way into the ballroom, her head held high. She would permit no one to guess how nervous she was.
The newlyweds were soon surrounded by those eager to judge for themselves the much-talked-about bride. Caro was introduced to so many people in rapid succession that her mind whirled and her head ached. To her relief, Ashley, at his most charming, guided the conversation into light, amusing channels. After a time, she began to relax and actually, to her amazement, to enjoy herself.
Ashley never left her side, hovering beside her with a tender solicitude toward her that confounded the gossips, who were watching the newlyweds with eagle eyes. There was nothing in Ashley’s manner toward his wife that bespoke an unwanted marriage with a woman who bored him.
Caro, too, was a surprise. She was not a beauty in the conventional sense, but she was very striking with those large, expressive eyes and delicate gamine face. Although she had an amusingly candid tongue, the want of conduct that Sir Percival had accused her of was nowhere in evidence. His tales about her and her hasty marriage were soon discounted as another example of his malicious tongue. After all, the way Vinson hovered about her, anyone could see that he cared deeply for his bride.
Which was what Ashley, determined to put to rest the rumors circulating about his wife and his marriage, intended.
Several times during the course of the evening, Caro noticed another young woman, quite plain, with a shy air about her, whom Caro judged to be three or four years older than herself. When Caro first saw the girl, she was on the arm of a dashing young man whom she clearly adored, for she never removed her eyes from him. Even while they were conversing with other couples, her eyes continued to watch only him even when their companions were talking.
When her escort attempted to break away from her, she clutched desperately at his sleeve. Although Caro was too far away to hear what passed between them, the man was clearly furious at her. Finally, she released her hold on his sleeve, and he stalked away. Her eyes, filled with tears, continued to watch him wherever he moved. Whenever Caro saw her after that, her gaze was still fixed on the young man who had not once returned to her side.
Late in the evening, the girl went timidly up to the young man and plucked at his sleeve. He rounded on her angrily, clearly berating her. Seeing the misery in her eyes, Caro’s heart went out to her.
“Who is that girl?” Caro asked her mother-in-law, who was talking to the duchess of Stratford. Ashley had gone off to find them refreshments.
“That’s Lady Yarwood, poor thing,” the countess replied. “Her husband married her only for her fortune, but she, unfortunately, worships him.”
So that was poor Lady Yarwood, Caro thought, remembering what Abigail had said about her.
“If only she would not hang on her husband so,” the duchess said. “It is not at all the thing to do. She succeeds only in giving him a greater disgust of her. It is quite pathetic.”
Abigail had said nearly the same thing. Remembering her stepmother’s warning, Caro resolved never to hang on Ashley.
Although it was late, well past the time when guests were still being announced, a new arrival swept in the door. It was the breathtakingly beautiful woman that Caro had seen at Madame Balan’s. She wore a ruby satin gown that emphasized her exotic beauty, and she drew openly appreciative glances from the men about the entrance. Curious, Caro asked her mother-in-law and the duchess who the woman was.
Seeing her, the duchess drew in her breath sharply and the charming countess seemed at a loss for words. Finally, she said blandly, “That is Lady Roxley, Sir Fletcher’s wife.” Lady Bourn was clearly unaware that Caro knew the identity of her husband’s mistress.
The duchess hastily changed the subject, and neither woman noticed the shattering effect this revelation had on Caro. The world seemed to dissolve into a blur around her. She could not see and she felt as though she could not breathe, either. So this was her rival for Ashley’s love. All that she had heard about Lady Roxley’s beauty had not done it justice. Her rival, Caro thought bitterly. What a joke that was. There was no way a plain, skinny thing like herself could compete with that sublime creature. The hard-won self-assurance that Caro had gained in recent days dissolved in an instant. A lump the size of a grapefruit rose in her throat, and she wanted nothing so much as to flee from the ballroom.
She saw the beautiful amethyst eyes scanning the room, looking for someone. Then Lady Roxley’s gaze alighted on Ashley, who was directing a servant carrying a tray of champagne glasses toward his mother and his wife. She hurried up to him with a brilliant smile. Taking his hand, she pulled him toward a door that led to a small withdrawing room.
Caro slipped away from her mother-in-law, who was so engrossed in her conversation with the duchess that she did not notice. Scarcely aware of what she was doing, Caro made her way toward the door through which her husband and his mistress had disappeared. As Caro reached it, she saw Ashley, his back to her, talking to Lady Roxley.
Triumph was plain in that lady’s face and in the timbre of her low, sultry voice. “Poor Ashley, all of London is buzzing about what a plain little waif your wife is.” She fluttered her fan seductively. “But I confess, my love, that I am glad that she is, for now I need never worry about her stealing your love from me.”
“No,” Ashley said in a strangled voice that Caro hardly recognized, “you need not fear that you
will
lose my love to Caro...”
His wife could not bear to hear another word. Her heart breaking, she turned and fled.
No, he does not
want
to marry you any more than you do him ...
Vinson must marry—his father insists on it—and the lady you mentioned is already wed to another
.
He needs a wife to give him an heir...
All the happiness and joy that Caro had felt in Ashley’s arms during the past fortnight exploded in a blinding white heat of disillusionment that left in its wake only the bitter gray ash of burned-out hope and dreams.
She hurried along the edge of the ballroom to the hall and then into a small sitting room, where she threw herself down on a sofa, buried her head in her hands, and sobbed in despair and grief. What a silly, naive fool she had been to think that she could win her husband’s love away from such a dazzling woman.