First Comes Marriage (35 page)

“Yes.”

It was time for supper, and they were forced to separate in order to mingle with their guests.

But Vanessa would remember this evening, she thought, as one of the most memorable occasions of her life. Even apart from its other attractions, it was the evening during which she had fallen all the way in love with Elliott—so deeply, in fact, that there could no longer be any distinction between being
in
love with him and
loving
him with all her being and for all time.

She spared a regretful thought for Hedley and then nudged it gently away.

That was then.

This was now.

And
now
was a very good time in which to be living.

20

VANESSA walked over to Merton House on Berkeley Square the following afternoon to call upon her sisters. They were both at home, though Stephen was out. He had gone with Constantine to look at sporting curricles, though in Margaret’s opinion he was far too young to be thinking of tooling around in such an impractical and potentially dangerous vehicle.

“I do fear,” she said as they all took a seat in the drawing room, “that he might turn into a wild young man. He is vastly impressed with London and everyone he has met here so far. And the trouble is that everyone is impressed with him too, even gentlemen several years older than he is. They will lead him astray if they can.”

“He is merely fluttering his wings, Meg,” Katherine assured her. “He has not even spread them yet. But it is inevitable that he will. We must trust that he has a steady enough character that he will not turn irresponsibly wild.”

“I have to agree with Kate,” Vanessa said. “Stephen must be allowed to be a young gentleman just like every other, Meg, and find his own way to being the person he wishes to be.”

“Oh, I suppose you are both right,” Margaret conceded with a sigh. “Indeed, I
know
you are. It is just that he is still so very young. He is too young to be here, where there are so many distractions and temptations.”

“If it is any consolation,” Vanessa said, “Elliott takes his responsibility to our brother very seriously. He will keep a careful eye on him in that male world into which we cannot intrude. And it is into that world that he has retreated himself this morning, wise man. The conversation at breakfast was of nothing but balls and beaux and conquests. Cecily has received no fewer than five bouquets from gentlemen with whom she danced. She has declared herself an unqualified success, and we have all agreed with her.”

“And you thought to escape by coming here?” Katherine said. “Have you looked about you, Nessie?”

Vanessa did so now and laughed. Meg had always kept the house full of flowers in season, but never with so many lavish bouquets as adorned the room today.

“
More
success?” she said. “And
more
beaux?”

“Singular in my case,” Margaret said. “The white roses are mine. The Marquess of Allingham was kind enough to send them. All the other bouquets are Kate’s—four of them.”

“I was never more surprised in my life,” Katherine said. “I felt like a country cousin last evening despite all my finery. This is all quite absurd.”

“Not at all,” Vanessa said. “Both of you were more lovely than anyone else last evening and attracted a great deal of interest.”

“Because of Stephen,” Margaret said.

“Well, yes,” Vanessa conceded. “Without Stephen we would all be back in Throckbridge living our old lives. But even there you both had more than your fair share of admirers. Enough of such talk, though. It is a lovely day. Shall we go for a walk in the park?”

It was a welcome suggestion to two country ladies. And Hyde Park was large enough to seem like a good chunk of the countryside dropped right into the middle of busy London.

They strolled along some of the quieter paths there, avoiding the crush of riders and carriages and strollers in the more fashionable area.

“The Marquess of Allingham has invited Meg to drive here with him tomorrow afternoon,” Katherine said.

“Has he?” Vanessa looked at her elder sister, impressed. “And have you agreed to come here with him, Meg?”

“I have,” she said. “It was obliging of him to ask. He is a widower, you know.”

“And you, Kate?” Vanessa asked, smiling. “Did you meet anyone special at the ball last evening?”

“Everyone was special,” Katherine said predictably. “I had a truly lovely time. But is it not wonderful to be walking here in the quiet of the park and breathing in the smells of grass and trees? I miss Warren Hall. And I
do
miss Throckbridge so very much.”

“We will grow accustomed to this new life,” Vanessa said. “And there will be so much to do over the next few months and so many new things to see and experience that there will scarcely be a moment in which to fret and feel homesick.”

“Constantine is going to take me to the Tower of London later this week,” Katherine said, “and anywhere else I wish to go. I like him exceedingly. I wish we had known him all our lives. I wish we had known Jonathan.”

“Yes,” Margaret and Vanessa both agreed.

They strolled onward, not talking all the time. They were all familiar enough with one another that they could be perfectly comfortable with silence, especially when there were the beauties of nature to enjoy.

Vanessa continued to relive yesterday—her presentation at court, the ball, her waltz with Elliott. The night with him.

It surely would be quite impossible to be happier than she had been then and was now today, she thought. She had danced only once with Elliott last evening, but it had been enough.

She would always remember their first waltz together.

And exhausted as they both ought to have been after such a busy day, they had made love over and over again through the night.

She was really quite tired today. But sometimes tiredness itself could be almost pleasurable.

She was three days late with her courses.
Only
three days. She must not hope too strongly. But even so, she was usually very regular.

But she did hope ...Oh, she
hoped
.

Finally their route brought them close to the busy part of the park, the area where the whole of the fashionable world promenaded each afternoon.

The Marquess of Allingham was the first to stop to pay his respects to them. He was alone in a high-perch phaeton.

“Lady Lyngate, Miss Huxtable, Miss Katherine,” he said, touching the brim of his tall hat with his whip. “How do you do?”

They assured him that they were doing very well indeed and Margaret thanked him for his flowers.

“Word has it,” he said, “that there is a chance of rain tomorrow.”

“Oh,” Margaret said, “that would be a disappointment, my lord.”

“Perhaps,” he said, “if your sisters can spare you, Miss Huxtable, you would care to take a turn with me now this afternoon. I will return you safely to your own door within the hour.”

Margaret looked inquiringly at her sisters.

“But of course you must go, Meg,” Vanessa said. “I will walk home with Kate.”

The marquess descended from his perch and handed Margaret up to the high seat beside his own.

“I am glad,” Vanessa said as she and Katherine watched them drive away, “that she is willing to enjoy the company of someone else.”

“Someone else?” Katherine asked.

“Other than Crispin Dew,” Vanessa said. “She has loved him all her life, you know. She would not marry him when he asked because of us. But they had an understanding when he went away.”

“Nessie!” Katherine cried, clearly stricken. “And he has just married a Spanish lady. Oh, poor Meg! I really had no idea. And to think that when we heard the news at Warren Hall, I teased her about being a little sweet on him when she was a girl. How that must have hurt!”

“You cannot be blamed. Meg never was one to talk about herself or to display her feelings for all to see,” Vanessa said. “I believe I was her only confidante as a girl, though now she does not confide her deepest feelings even in me. I will be happy if she finds someone else to love this Season or next.”

“Perhaps the marquess?” Katherine said. “He is not terribly handsome, is he, but he seems amiable enough. And he can be no more than ten years older than Meg.”

“And he
is
a marquess,” Vanessa said, smiling. “How blasé we are becoming about such things already.”

“He is not a prince, though,” Katherine said, and they both laughed and walked on.

Cecily was out walking with a group of young ladies, their maids trailing along some distance behind. They stopped to talk with a couple of young gentlemen on horseback as Vanessa and Katherine approached—Vanessa recognized them from last night’s ball. Greetings were being exchanged with much merry laughter.

Cecily smiled brightly at them and invited them to join her group.

“We are going to walk down to the Serpentine,” she explained.

“Oh, I would love to see the water,” Katherine said.

Vanessa would too—but preferably not in company with such an exuberant crowd of young ladies. She must be getting old, she decided ruefully.

“
You
go,” she urged Katherine. “I must be getting home anyway. Perhaps Elliott will be there. Cecily and her maid will surely accompany you home.”

“But of course we will,” Cecily said. “I
wish
you had brought your brother with you.”

“Yes, indeed,” one of the other young ladies said. “He is quite divine. Those curls!”

There was a flurry of giggles.

Vanessa watched them go on their way. But she was now without either companions or a maid and must not dawdle. Perhaps she would lie down for an hour when she got home and catch up on some of the sleep she had missed for the last two nights. Unless Elliott had come home, of course. And then perhaps . . .

She quickened her pace.

Three ladies were approaching in an open barouche, all of them with bonnets or hats that were extremely fashionable. Vanessa looked admiringly at them until the lady who sat with her back to the horses turned her head, and Vanessa saw that she was Mrs. Bromley-Hayes.

The lady saw her at the same moment, and they smiled warmly at each other.

“Oh, do stop,” Mrs. Bromley-Hayes called to the coachman as the barouche drew abreast of Vanessa. “Lady Lyngate! The very person I have been hoping to see today. I must thank you for being so gracious last evening. It was a splendid ball, was it not? I would have stayed longer if I had not had another engagement elsewhere.”

“Oh,” Vanessa said, “I am so glad to hear that. I hoped you did not feel unwelcome. It was an unfortunate oversight that your invitation was not sent out.”

“That is kind of you,” the lady said, and looked at her companions. “I am going to walk with Lady Lyngate for a while. Do go on without me. I shall find my own way home.”

The coachman jumped down from his perch, and soon Mrs. Bromley-Hayes, looking fashionable and startlingly beautiful, was at Vanessa’s side and taking her arm so that they could stroll onward together.

“Elliott said you were tired after yesterday,” Mrs. Bromley-Hayes said. “But it is good to see you out and enjoying the air this afternoon.”

Elliott?

“You have seen him today?” Vanessa asked.

“Oh, yes, of course,” the lady said. “He called on me earlier as he often does.”

Why?

“Did he?” Vanessa said.

“Oh, you need not worry,” the lady said with a light laugh. “The Wallace men are always very discreet, you know, and unscrupulously loyal to their wives in public. Elliott will never embarrass you. And you will have his home and his heirs. You already have his title. Indeed, Lady Lyngate,
I
am the one who should envy
you
. You need not envy
me
.”

What was she saying? But even an imbecile, or even someone who had lived a sheltered existence in the country, could not possibly mistake her meaning.

She was Elliott’s mistress!

Although Anna is a perfectly respectable widow, she also has something of a reputation for being sometimes, ah, over-friendly with certain gentlemen.

The words Constantine had spoken last evening came back to Vanessa as clearly as if he were walking beside her speaking them now.

As did Elliott’s anger at seeing the lady in his ball-room when she had not been invited.

Of course she had not been invited.

“Oh, dear,” Mrs. Bromley-Hayes said now, a suggestion of laughter in her voice, “never tell me you did not
know
.”

“I believe,” Vanessa said through lips that felt stiff and did not obey her will very easily, “you were depending upon my not knowing, ma’am.”

“I forgot,” the lady said, “that you have come recently from the country and have never mingled with polite society. You cannot be expected to know its secret workings. Poor Lady Lyngate. But even you, surely, cannot believe that Elliott married you for any other reason than convenience.”

Of course he had not. He had not even dreamed of marrying her until
she
had asked
him
.

“You have only to look at yourself in a glass,” Mrs. Bromley-Hayes continued. “Which is not to say that you are ugly. You are not, and you must be commended for dressing as well as you can given your figure. But Elliott has always been renowned, you know, for his exquisite taste in women.”

The wife and the mistress were walking side by side and arm in arm, Vanessa thought, in surely the most public afternoon location in London. The picture they presented to everyone else in the park must be ludicrous indeed. And of course, everyone else must
know
. Only she had not until a few moments ago.

“Exquisite in what way?” she asked.

It was the best she could do without any chance to think of any better or more cutting reply. Her head buzzed as if it were inhabited by a hiveful of bees.

The lady laughed low.

“Ah,” she said, “the cat
does
have claws, does it? But come, Lady Lyngate, there is no reason we cannot be friends. Why let a man come between us? Men are such foolish creatures. We may need them for certain things—well, for
one
thing at least—but we can live far more happily without them most of the time.”