The Vengeful Bridegroom (22 page)

Madelene lay back in bed and pulled the white linen to cover herself, although the room was warm. “Perhaps someone gave him erroneous information. Do you truly believe my own brother would wish me ill?”

Reclining on his back, Gabriel sighed. “I can answer your question with my own instincts. He probably didn’t give the whole arrangement much thought. Your brother tends to display an appalling lack of farsightedness.”

They lay quietly together until Madelene put a hand to her forehead. “My goodness. What must the time be? We have guests arriving tonight, and I must dress and talk to Mrs. Lavishtock.” She shoved her husband’s arm. “Go, go. We cannot dawdle any more in bed.”

“How easily my wife turns from lover to shrew,” he told her with a smile, but he did rise to pull on his clothes, telling himself this conversation was far from over.

“Mr. Westcott, you will please leave my room. And I wouldn’t bandy the word ‘shrew’ about, because you might just deserve one.”

He saluted her on his way to the door. “Touché. But as long as she was the beautiful Madelene, I would have her any way that I could.” He jiggled his eyebrows lasciviously.

“Go, you hedonistic heathen!” she mocked him and threw a pillow in his direction.

Only after his departure did she realize they still hadn’t discussed Alec. At least she was more than relieved to learn Alec was not George’s mother.

“Oh, ma’am, if I must say so, you look lovely this evening. Mr. Westcott will be hard-pressed to take his eyes from you,” Fanny told Madelene breathlessly after putting the last of the baby’s breath in her hair.

Madelene smiled at her reflection in the looking glass as she sat in front of her vanity. “If this is true, it is due to your fine work. Fanny, I am very delighted with this gown you made. I should have you make all my dresses, for your skill as a dressmaker is incomparable. You would put my former mantua-makers in Town to envy.”

Blushing, Fanny replied, “For sure, ma’am, you are kindness itself. Not many such as yourself would trouble themselves with a beginner.”

“You give yourself too little credit. I’m sure I will not know what to say should any of the ladies tonight inquire about my seamstress. I may have to create a fib. If Ludlow heard about your accomplishments, you might not wish to remain as my lady’s maid.”

“Oh, Mrs. Westcott, I do not think of such things. I am fortunate to be in your employ.”

Their eyes met in the looking glass. “I’d say we both had good fortune. I better hurry with these earrings or Mr. Westcott will wonder why I dally.”

Fanny had prescient sight at Gabriel’s admiration of the picture Madelene made as she joined him in the rich burgundy drawing room.

“You are a confection of brilliance, and I hunger for your sweetness,” he murmured in her ear, giving a care to the distance between them. It wouldn’t do to create talk as they waited to welcome their guests in the drawing room. Before he knew it, gossip would be stirred as the country folk spoke of Mr. Gabriel Westcott as quite besotted over his new wife. Even though, of course, he was.

Before meeting Gabriel to receive their guests, Madelene had checked on dinner with Mrs. Lavishtock, made sure Falstaff had been fed, and looked in on her brother. She thought it strange Matthew was dressed for the soiree, although he had no intention of attending and had not been invited.

“I’m leaving in the morning, Madelene. Your husband has kindly arranged for a coach to return us to Town. I don’t know when I shall see you again.” His face looked rather morose, alarming Madelene.

Us? He couldn’t possibly mean the baby? “Who—”

“Brelford has been waiting for me in Ludlow until I can return home. He has certainly been a steadfast friend, which I have sorely needed.”

Madelene relaxed slightly. He didn’t refer to George. But…hoping her husband would understand and on the verge of telling Matthew, she heard Falstaff barking and excused herself to see about the commotion.

In the kitchen, Madelene had found Alec standing next to the outside door, her clothes disheveled and dirty, Mrs. Lavishtock shushed Falstaff while inquiring where Alec had been.

“Mr. Westcott asked me go to the village and collect a package for him.”

“That surely does not explain your appearance. You’re as filthy as a chimney sweep,” the housekeeper told the young woman, who couldn’t have looked more disinterested in the berating.

When Alec noticed Madelene in the kitchen, they stared at each other, distrust mirrored between them before Madelene turned to the housekeeper and smiled. “Mrs. Lavishtock, please see Mr. Westcott receives his package. Our guests will be here soon. Please see to Falstaff and anything else that comes through the
servants’
entrance.” She left the kitchen, determined to discover where Alec had been this evening.

Gabriel and Madelene stood together near the entrance to the drawing room while Hazelby held a tray of Madeira wine and Graham announced the guests as they arrived.

“Mr. and Mrs. Tottencott,” Graham intoned, sounding far older than his youthful appearance allowed. Fanny told Madelene he had been practicing his introductions to have that certain quality of elegance in his voice, befitting his master and mistress.

In a brief history of the county, Gabriel had informed Madelene earlier in the day that Mrs. Tottencott was related to Princess Caroline’s Lady-in-Waiting, the Countess Willins, by marriage, six or seven times removed, he could never quite remember. The countess at the time held court in London with her husband, the Earl of Fieldsforth. Since her sister could claim a royal connection by a whisper of threads, Mrs. Tottencott believed herself an important cog in the society circle of Ludlow.

Madelene smiled at Mrs. Tottencott as she wobbled into the room, leaning on her gold-tipped cane to the left, all dressed in gray from her shoes to her gloves to the top of her head. Her husband, Mr. Tottencott, followed close behind his wife, apparently to ensure she didn’t tip over, although he could hardly claim equilibrium himself from the gout he suffered on his left foot. Madelene watched them parade into the room, and decided if he leaned right and she leaned left, they could walk as one, with ne’er a worry of tumbling. She hid her smile at the thought.

“Mr. and Mrs. Tottencott, we are honored you have joined us this evening. May I present my wife, the former Miss Madelene Colgate, now Westcott.” Gabriel performed the introductions.

The older woman peered at Madelene through her quizzing glass from top to bottom, scrutiny unmistakably on her mind. So intently was she examined, Madelene felt confident the woman could detect sugar specks on her lip from a plum cake she had eaten earlier. Ever gracious to this bastion of presumed power, she endured the perusal, well aware Mrs. Tottencott could be a powerful friend or a powerful foe in the country. Madelene did not wish for the latter.

“Mrs. Tottencott, may I echo my husband’s sentiments in welcoming you to our home?” Madelene wished to sound sincere but was becoming increasingly uncomfortable under the old woman’s glare.

“I didn’t hear your wedding banns announced, Mr. Westcott,” she informed the couple in her staccato voice, when she deigned to clip a few words.

Although Madelene started at this unexpected pronouncement, Gabriel gave Mrs. Tottencott the warmest of smiles. “Ah, I see, we cannot put anything past you. You are far too clever. I am sincerely regretful. The oversight is none but my own.” He took Madelene’s hand in his own and kissed it. “You see, Mrs. Tottencott, as I was quite determined to marry Miss Westcott, I didn’t allow time for any of the usual formalities or traditions.”

Her sharp eyes scanned back and forth between Gabriel and Madelene, intent on missing nothing. “So, Westcott, this is not the arranged marriage your uncle wished between you and Lady Shillmont. He would be most unhappy. Her father’s lands adjoined to your property would have made an immense acquisition to the Westcott fortunes.” She had to stop her unsought and unpleasant diatribe, overcome by a coughing spell.

Lady Shillmont,
Madelene thought.
Hmm, another story to learn.

“Please, Mrs. Tottencott, let me help you to a chair. You must be weary on your feet.” Gabriel showed the couple to the closest settee and assisted in making them comfortable by offering a glass of Madeira, which they both declined.

“Ah, Mr. Westcott—” Mrs. Tottencott continued but it was interrupted by new arrivals.

“The Misses Lavender, Lilac, and Rose McMartin,” Graham announced loudly from outside the drawing-room door.

“Hyacinth, I told you!
Hyacinth.
Wherever did you get the name Lilac?” A small blond woman stood before the butler with hands on her hips. “My name is Miss McMartin,” she informed him in a shrill voice.

“Terribly sorry. I knew the other name to be a flower, but lilac was the only one come to mind.” Graham nodded to Madelene and Gabriel before making his escape.

Hyacinth, a tiny birdlike woman, flew into the room with her two sisters close behind, her small hands and mouth flapping together about rude butlers, or at least that was what Madelene thought she heard. The woman spoke without breath, making it difficult to discern actual words.

By way of introduction, she pointed to a tall, pale female, rather nondescript in appearance, and called her Rose—surely a gross mistake in nomenclature from her parents, Madelene couldn’t help think. Lavender stood next to Rose and was easily the prettiest of the three. As Hyacinth was short and Rose tall, Lavender fit somewhere in the middle. She had light brown hair, big brown eyes, and a very serene shy smile.

The boldest of the three, Hyacinth claimed dull blond hair, unimaginative brown eyes, and a small mouth constantly in motion. All three wore pale flowered frocks with a variety of colored sashes, perhaps not of the latest fashion, but not unbecoming.

Madelene guessed the sisters to be within a year or two of each other and just on the outside of marriageable age. She didn’t know enough of the family’s circumstances, but had never seen or heard of the McMartins in London during the Season. If the notion few bachelors resided in Shropshire could be presumed, these young ladies would need to seek farther afield for matrimonial conquests. The three latest arrivals found a seat and accepted the offered Madeira while the Vicar Caring was announced and introduced to Madelene.

Madelene took a step back from his booming and overbearing presence. She thought he would do well as the Master of Ceremonies in a circus, so loud was his voice. “Mr. Westcott
and
Mrs. Westcott. I finally have the privilege to meet the newest resident of Shropshire.
Delighted, delighted.
”

The eager vicar bent over Madelene’s hand and kissed it, holding on to it as he continued his monologue. “I was saying to Mrs. McMartin, the girls’ mother, the other day, I had not yet had the pleasure to make the acquaintance of Mrs. Westcott but hoped to do so in the near future. And can I believe it? Here I am. A lucky man, yes, a lucky man, indeed.”

He finally gave Madelene her hand back and turned to the rest of the occupants. “How fortunate to have such a delightful group for this evening’s gathering. Honored, that’s what I am, honored.”

Gabriel, in the end, had to actually shove him into a seat and hold him down, when he would have popped up like corn in hot oil, Madelene mused. When she had an opportunity to view the vicar, she noted his small pock-scarred face, small black eyes, and mouth, mostly open for talking. Oh dear. With the vicar, Hyacinth, and Mrs. Tottencott, Madelene hoped the others would be permitted a word here and there.

She delicately sniffed the air. If she wasn’t mistaken, the vicar smelled of mold. In his costume, he looked every inch the part of a parson from his broad-toed shoes to his black clothes and white neckcloth. Why ever did it appear vicars had an obsequious nature? She wondered if it was a requirement of the job.

Inwardly sighing, Madelene was relieved to see an old acquaintance, Mr. Bush, enter the room, cane in hand. Both Gabriel and Madelene greeted him warmly, trying to be heard over the vicar’s posturing to Mrs. Tottencott.

Gabriel walked Mr. Bush to the center of the room and informed his friend of the current occupants as Mr. Bush nodded at the chorus of welcomes.

Lavender surprised Madelene by leaving her chair and walking to Mr. Bush’s side to offer her own personal respects. In a low voice, she said, “I am so pleased you are part of the festivities, Mr. Bush. I fear it has been too long since you have stopped for a visit.”

“Miss Lavender McMartin,” he said, then turned in the direction where he understood the other sisters were seated. “Miss McMartin and Miss McMartin. I must say I’m glad there are only the three of you.” His audience laughed politely, and he assured the three sisters he would take the earliest opportunity to stop on his next visit to Ludlow. Madelene thought she saw Lavender press Mr. Bush’s hand and looked with raised eyebrows at Gabriel, who shook his head imperceptively. No matchmaking skills would be needed here, Madelene smiled to herself. And didn’t her friend, Mr. Bush, deserve such a sweet and well-bred young lady?

The last invited guests, Squire Jones, a large man of middle years, and his young daughter, Rachel, no more than twelve, arrived and greeted everyone. The squire proved a pleasant addition to the crowd, providing comment when warranted and silence when not sought for contribution, while his daughter looked mostly down at her clasped hands and probably wished she was elsewhere.

After a few pleasantries were shared, Graham called everyone to dinner. Gabriel and Madelene led the way, followed by the teetering Tottencotts, the vicar and Hyacinth, the squire and his daughter, Mr. Bush and Lavender, and Rose on her own. Given the acceptances and declines for the soiree, Madelene had wished for an even number at the table, but there was nothing for it.

Madelene beamed as their friends greatly admired the lavish chandelier and the well-laid table. Even the summer blooms of white and pink carnations added a pleasant ambience. After being seated, Hazelby and the other three footmen served the first remove, a delicious cucumber soup, a leg of pork boiled with peas, pudding, and greens and roots. The second remove consisted of roasted turkey, tarts, and fruit.