The Marquess of Cake (34 page)

She let out a low chuckle. “Simply repeat nothing I have done.

That is the best advice I can give you. I cannot take credit for anything that has gone well for you, and much that has not.”

“I blame Father for everything, not you.”

“I did not make his life easy, for all that he repaid me in kind. If you love that girl you married, by all means, keep loving her. Do not let the love turn sour. Ignore every fault and live in blissful ignorance that she is anything less than an angel.”

“Thank you, Mother. I shall make the necessary arrangements.”

“Call for my maid, will you?” She reached for her chocolate box, then left her hand hovering there.

“I will.” God keep her safe, he prayed as he left the sitting room.

He didn’t want this surgery any more than she did, but she looked all too close to death.

Her maid hovered in the hall outside, so he sent her into the room before he went downstairs. His mother should not be alone.

When Alys entered Matilda’s room, she found her flopped on her bed, looking like an abandoned puppet dressed in the latest fashion.

She remembered all those years of sharing a room with her sisters, before they came to London. They had grown apart since, even more than she realized.

“You are not going to feel better until you take some action,” she told Matilda. “Staying in your room, focused on your disgrace, will accomplish nothing.”

“I thought he’d send a note,” Matilda squeaked, then burst out sobbing. “Lady Lillian has not yet responded to me either!”

“If Mr. Bliven had planned to contact you, you would have received word at the same time Gawain and my husband did. As for Lady Lillian, the marquess said he would speak to her father about her appalling advice to you. She is no doubt in disgrace herself.”

Matilda snapped upright as if someone had taken up her strings.

“You told Michael? He spoke to the earl?”

“Of course I did. If not for your situation, I’d have removed myself to Hatbrook House by now. The Shields came to town Monday night.”

“Then everyone knows,” Matilda whispered, her tear-stained cheeks losing their flush. “Earl Gerrick is a bigger gossip than his daughter.”

“I am sure the marquess knows that and approached him with appropriate delicacy.”

“The Canders are frightfully intelligent as a clan,” Matilda said, sniffing. “Lady Lillian may have used me as entertaining conversation at the dinner table.”

“I doubt that.”

“It was a plot!” Matilda gasped. “She has always liked Rose better than me. She wanted my disgrace. Oh, Alys, I must leave!”

“I am all for that.” Alys glanced around her, hoping Matilda would not want to bring all of her bric-a-brac with her to the Farm.

Her room had always been spartan in comparison. She did not want to direct the packing, and hear the hysterics, when inevitably, something broke in transit. Matilda would simply give orders and not be bothered otherwise.

Matilda wiped her eyes. “Where shall we go? India, after Mr.

Bliven? Or Bristol, perhaps, to the scene of our spotless childhood?

Perhaps Brighton, for the diversion. Or Italy?”

Alys broke into the reverie, feeling quite sharp. “How long until you know if your disgrace will, er, bear fruit?”

Matilda wiped at her eyes again and shrieked.

Alys pressed on. “I want to be clear on the timing, Matilda. Are your courses regular?”

Some of the color popped back into her sister’s cheeks. “A couple of weeks, I should think,” she whispered.

“Then there is no call to plan a trip abroad, I think. You would not want to be ill on a ship.”

“Just Bristol or Brighton then,” Matilda whispered. “Or do we know anyone in Edinburgh? The climate would suit my great sorrow.”

Alys wasn’t sure if her sister was hoping they had acquaintances in Scotland, or not. Had she been such a ninny after she and Michael had joined for the first time? In her head, perhaps, but certainly not out loud. She still wasn’t sure how Rose had known what transpired.

Or why Rose had revealed her secret.

“My place is with my husband,” Alys said.

“Don’t be silly, Alys. He doesn’t need you now that his brother has been found alive. And you don’t love him. Come away with me. I hardly ever see you, since you were always busy working, and I can’t possibly travel alone. Mother won’t leave Father again, since he’s been ill.”

“As pleased as I am by your sisterly desire to spend time with me, I cannot appreciate your consideration of my marriage.”

“He married you because you pleased him in a marital way,”

Matilda said defiantly. “And you married him to escape from under Father’s thumb. So why not go with me now?”

“Because I do love him,” Alys snapped.

They stared at each other. Matilda, because of the vehemence behind Alys’s words, and Alys, because she had never realized her feelings until now.

“You do?”

She felt lighter, as if she’d swallowed a cloud of meringue. “Yes.

Ever since he came to that dreadful, falling-down house Father bought, and rescued Rose and me. I’d never have been so foolish as to become his mistress otherwise.”

“You’ve lost your head,” Matilda observed. “I always thought you such an odd, cold thing.”

“I never had the time to sit around reading romantic novels.”

“No, you were too busy disgracing the family with your employment,” Matilda sneered.

Would Matilda never stop insulting her? “At least I was happy with myself.”

“I am quite pleased with my life, thank you very much.”

“Really?”

Matilda shrank back a little. “Until I miscalculated.”

“I think you should stop reading novels and find some suitable friends.”

Matilda slid off the bed and came around to Alys. She clutched at her older sister’s hand. “What if I bear a child? Could you pass it off as yours? If we go away it would be so easy.”

“I am not passing off a Bliven as a Shield,” Alys said, pulling away. “I would never do that to Michael. If you have consequences, you shall have to live with the result.”

“Are you sure you wouldn’t go away? We have plenty of money.

We could live in luxury.”

Alys shook her head. “You do not understand me at all, and clearly you are too upset to think of anyone but yourself. I shall leave you to reflect, for a time.” She straightened her sleeve, in disarray from where Matilda had grabbed her, and made for the door. Her steps were punctuated by Matilda’s reoccurring sobs.

Alys put her hands to her temples, realizing as she walked down the hall that her interview had given her a terrible headache. She decided to go to the salon and look at some of her mother’s magazines.

Really, she simply wanted to stare into the fire and think about Michael. About the first time they’d kissed, when she’d noticed the tiny mole on his cheek for the first time, because she’d finally been so close to him. So close that she’d smelled the gingerbread on his breath.

And now, she could call him her own, though she had yet to really claim him. With all of the sorrow and madness surrounding his brother’s supposed death, they had never found the time for the simple pleasures of marriage.

Perhaps those moments she’d witnessed her parents sharing didn’t happen in an aristocratic marriage. Did you not sit close in a parlor, reading and sharing bits of news? Maybe you didn’t cover your husband’s sore hands with unguent, to soothe the burns from a day’s baking, or massage your wife’s shoulders, because they were sore from a day spent bending over the bed of a sick child. Or play cards with relatives, but still find the opportunity to touch.

Was an aristocratic marriage all cold formality, dancing once or twice at a ball, sitting at opposite ends of an enormous dining table with disapproving relatives making rude remarks? And your husband always at his club?

No, she didn’t want her marriage to become that. She had all the time in the world to spend with him. He was terribly busy, of course.

She simply needed to make herself more interesting than his business concerns, or his clubs, or his friends.

An easy companion, that was what she wanted to be. Now that she was married, and to a man she loved.

How could she never have realized it before? Perhaps she had never let herself. She had been frightened, had been hurting, and had not wanted to make it worse with any declaration of her own.

Even now, with his mother so ill, she could hardly have expectations. But if he would let her come home to him, she could be there in the background, ready to start anew when there was time.

She stood and paced in front of the fire. Had she not already proven her worth? She should learn more about what ailed him, so she could refine the household menus further, to give him stamina for his work. For his nights, she mused, remembering how unexpected the pleasure she’d found with him was.

And she wanted it again. A warm rush softened her entire body as she remembered.

A knock came at the door. It opened before she could speak. And there was Michael, as if she conjured him, dressed in a jaunty houndstooth check suit that was definitely not mourning appropriate.

She lifted her skirts and ran toward him, unable to keep the smile from her face. His quizzical expression softened into a smile as she took his hands and squeezed.

“What news?” she asked, feeling small and feminine since he had to bend down to kiss her.

“I have spoken to your father. I did not reveal the totality of your sister’s disgrace, in the hopes that it would not bear fruit, but I have suggested she take charge of Rose for now and he agreed.”

“And Earl Gerrick?”

“I told him his daughter had been offering quite unmaidenly advice and he muttered something about it being past time for her to wed. He is writing to Viscount Bricker in Yorkshire immediately, to set a date for the wedding.”

She clasped her hands between his. “Will he ship her off there?”

“Oh, yes. Special license, wedding in the chapel on the estate in Yorkshire. If the man isn’t willing, Earl Gerrick said he’d marry Lady Lillian off to Viscount Hortley.”

“Thank you.”

He squeezed her hands. “My mother will have her surgery on Friday. I don’t mean to suggest that you wait on her as I will hire sufficient staff, but would you consider coming to Hatbrook House soon?”

“I’d like nothing better,” Alys said. “I am so happy you asked. It was foolish of me to leave the Farm without you.”

“You were worried about your father.” He offered her an excuse but she dismissed it.

“No, I was afraid.”

“That he was seriously ill? He seemed well to me, other than a sore nose.”

“No, I was afraid of our life together.” She lifted her hands from his grasp and moved her fingers up his chest, hoping he would embrace her. “I didn’t know how to make it work, to have the loving relationship I know I want.”

His gaze was intent on her. She snuggled closer and his arms found their way around her.

“I love you, Michael. I didn’t know it before. I’ve been such a fool. I should have been patient and kept putting myself in front of you, so we would have time to know each other. I don’t know how to be still.”

“I love you too and I’m sorry I never told you. I thought you regretted our marriage terribly once you discovered there was to be no baby.”

“I have wanted you desperately since you rescued us from Redcake Manor. You are my hero, Michael. But I lived more like a man

than a woman. I didn’t know how I felt because I never let myself feel.”

“You have never lived like a man,” Michael said, pressing his lips against her hair. “But you did lock your sensibilities away. That I can believe. Every tender moment with you is like an explosion before you lock yourself away again.”

“I want to change.”

“I want to change too,” he whispered, his breath tickling her ear.

“You have made my life so much better already. Who would have thought that War Office telegram would become a blessing?”

She found his lapels and tugged until his lips met hers.

“Everything has changed. Even my mother and I had a moment, yesterday. It is as if your presence in my life spun everything on its axis and everyone and everything came down in a slightly different place.”

She agreed wholeheartedly. “In a very different place for me.”

“I can see that. I have asked you to make an incredibly hard adjustment.”

“That is what women have to do,” Alys said. “That is the way it is.”

“It does not have to be. Do you want Redcake’s? I’ll give it to you, even if you want to manage it yourself. It needs a steady hand.”

She considered his words carefully. “You want me in your business?”

“I’ll sign it over to you as your own personal property, if you like.

It is up to you.”

She felt a smile brighten her face. “Are you certain you do not mind? I love Redcake’s so much, but being your wife in every way is important to me.”

His gaze stayed intent on hers. “I am proud that you consider our families in this decision, but I want you to be happy.”

She stared into the flames for a moment, her brain whirring with plans. “Will you help me find a good manager for Redcake’s? Then there will not be so much for me to do. I can make cakes and be happy if we can employ someone with the right sensibility to report to me,” she said. “They must be perfect for the establishment.”

“I like your fierce spirit.” He feathered a finger over her hair. “It comes with the red.”

“Is your temper as bad as mine?”

“In times of stress. I am sorry I snapped at you about my business affairs. I should have realized how capable and knowledgeable you are about many things.”

She flexed her fingers, already poring over options. “I shall make a list.”

“We shall live in London most of the time,” he mused. “But I will be needed at the Farm now and then. However, I promise I shall never hold a hunting ball.”

She glanced up and saw his wink. “Whatever do you mean?”

“The first time I saw you, you were telling one of the cakies that you never wanted to be an ornament at a hunting ball. I am guilty of attempting to treat you as ornamental. It shall never happen again.”