In the Wake of the Wind (34 page)

“They’ve practiced for over a week now,” he murmured as they burst into another song, the vicar beaming at them and then at
Charlotte
from his
place
behind the pulpit. Her idiotic father couldn’t be expected to understand what a fool he appeared, but Aiden—Aiden, the future marquess, should have known better. It only went to show how thoroughly his wife had taken him in, for the old Aiden would have been sensitive to his sister’s delicate feelings and never stood for such a mockery, let alone participated in it.

Charlotte had never felt so betrayed in all her life. She wanted to scream with fury.
Serafina
was behind this—she’d been biding her time, waiting to find a way to humiliate her sister-in-law, pretending affection, all the while plotting to usurp Charlotte’s authority in the face of the entire congregation where Charlotte could do nothing, say nothing, without appearing uncharitable.

Oh, Serafina
may indeed have thought she’d found the perfect knife to bury in Charlotte’s breast. But Charlotte would do her one better. Charlotte would marry a duke, rule over a household far grander than any
Serafina
could ever aspire to.
Serafina
and the servants she was no better than could rot in hell for all Charlotte cared.

She couldn’t wait to see the expression on Serafina’s face when
Serafina
realized that her oils had worked far better than she could ever have anticipated, that they had unlocked the door to Charlotte’s future greatness.

She would have power. She would have control. She would be a duchess ruling over one of the finest estates in Great Britain, and all
Serafina
would have was a second-rate estate, a doddering father-in-law whom no one respected, and a husband who was no better than a lap dog. Society would laugh in Serafina’s face. Charlotte would see to that, make sure that the true story of Serafina’s sham marriage came out, once Charlotte had secured her own future.

Two more days and she would be in London, ready to put the final stage of her plan into effect. And then they’d all be sorry for the way they’d treated her.

But she wasn’t about to tip her hand yet. She had too much at stake to risk having Raphael guess at her true feelings.

She covered Raphael’s warm hand with her gloved fingers. “Isn’t it marvelous?” she said enthusiastically. “We have our very own church choir at last. God has indeed been gracious in bringing
Serafina
to us, for I am sure it was she who so thoughtfully arranged this?”

“She did indeed,” Raphael said, squeezing her fingers in loving approval, and she was at least pleased with that, even if he did smile a little too broadly when Serafina’s name came up.

Charlotte became acutely aware of a pair of eyes boring into her, and she quickly turned her head, only to find that detestable biddy Elspeth gazing at her from her seat farther down the pew, a self-satisfied smile playing around the corners of her little pursed mouth.

Charlotte jerked her gaze away abruptly, a chill running down her spine as if someone had just walked over her grave. She’d always despised Elspeth Beaton, finding her an unnerving woman with a gaze that was far too keen, as if she could look beneath one’s skin and see all one’s darkest secrets. But Charlotte knew that was ridiculous. Elspeth was probably just shortsighted.

Charlotte would see that she got her just desserts too.

Oh, yes, one way or another Charlotte would see they all burned in hell.

London was by far the biggest city
Serafina
had ever seen, and the sights and sounds overwhelmed her. But Raphael’s townhouse overwhelmed her most of all. She hesitantly alighted from the carriage, craning her neck up.

The white granite structure graced nearly one half of Hanover Square and
Serafina
felt not only dwarfed by it, but thoroughly inadequate to handle what lay inside. She didn’t have the first idea of what to say to Raphael’s mother, who would surely find her lacking in every regard other than her clothing, no matter what Raphael had said about her kind intentions.

She glanced nervously over at Aiden, but he seemed oblivious to her fear, attending instead to his sister. That didn’t surprise her. The distance between them had only increased in the last two days, Aiden continuing to be polite and considerate toward her, but providing precious little else in the way of communication.

He had banished her as effectively as if he’d slammed a door in her face, leaving her alone and outcast on the other side. Despite her determination not to let his coolness trouble her, she couldn’t help feeling deeply hurt. For whatever she tried to tell herself to the contrary, she loved him from the depths of her soul, and that wasn’t something she could unmake.

He slept in their bed, but barely touched her except inadvertently in his sleep. He came to the table for dinner, but only offered a word or two, his thoughts obviously elsewhere. Even on the long ride to London, he’d been preoccupied, letting his father and Charlotte carry the conversation. Since Lord Delaware hadn’t had much to say, that left Charlotte to hold Bible class, which only grated on Serafina’s already raw nerves.

“Shall we go in, my dear?” Lord Delaware said, tucking her hand into the crook of his arm. “You’ve been staring at Raphael’s house as if it were going to jump out and bite you. A bit jittery, are you?”

Serafina
shook herself out of her troubled thoughts. “I do feel a little daunted,” she admitted. “This is all very new.”

“And sudden too,” he said with a reassuring squeeze of her fingers. ‘You haven’t had much time to adjust to the idea of your presentation to society. But you’ll do well, my dear, I’m sure of it. Heavens, if you could bring so much sunshine to Townsend in such short order, just think what you can do to the stuffy people of London.”

“That’s what worries me,” she said with a crooked smile. “I’m not very good with stuffiness. I think your friends are going to find me the veriest greenhorn.”

“Nonsense,” he said, guiding her up the steps, “and they’re not my friends in any case. I haven’t had any of those since my dear Isabel died, and it’s no one’s fault but my own. So let us both look at this town excursion as a new beginning. I reckon my knees are shaking every bit as much as yours.”

Serafina
couldn’t help laughing. Lord Delaware was an endearing man, and his kind words reassured her. She drew herself up and lifted her chin, determined not to be cowed. After all, she’d managed well enough in Raphael’s grandiose country house.

As soon as Charlotte was comfortably settled in her chair, the butler led them through the cavernous entrance way into an ornate drawing room, paneled throughout in oak, decorated in fine tapestry chairs and marquetry furniture.

“Your grace, your guests have arrived,” the man intoned to Raphael, who was engaged in writing something at a spectacular French ormolu desk.

He immediately rose and came forward, wearing a smile of warm welcome that immediately reassured
Serafina.
“Excellent,” he said, pressing a kiss on Charlotte’s hand. “Charlotte, you are looking even prettier than the last time I saw you and that was what, only three days ago?”

Charlotte smiled softly up at him. “Thank you, Raphael. I am in excellent spirits, even lighter now that I am here with you.”

“Well, I’m glad I lighten someone’s spirits—I generally feel as if I have the opposite effect on people. But that’s what comes with being a duke. All that pomp and circumstance is so depressing.”

“Nonsense,” Charlotte said. “You are an example to the people.”

“I certainly hope not,” Raphael retorted. “Hello,
Serafina.”
He lifted her hand and dropped a light kiss on its back. “Buck up, there’s a good girl,” he murmured in a low voice. “You haven’t entered the lion’s den.” He straightened. “My mother’s been anxiously waiting to meet you,” he said in a normal tone. “I don’t think she’s been so excited in years.”

Serafina
was sure that was true—the duchess had probably been at the smelling salts if not the brandy in an agony of anticipation over what she’d let herself in for. “Is the duchess here?” she asked in a small voice. Despite how happy she was to see Raphael’s familiar smiling face her legs felt like jelly.

“She’ll be down momentarily.” He turned to Aiden and clapped him on the back. “Well met, cousin. You made good time. I’ve ordered tea for the ladies, but I thought you and your father might be in need of stronger fortification.”

“I’ll join the ladies with tea,” Lord Delaware said to Serafina’s infinite relief, for it appeared as if he really was determined to stay sober despite his nerves. “But I’m sure Aiden would be happy for some of your fine sherry.”

“Thank you,” Aiden said, shooting
Serafina
an odd, searching look she couldn’t decipher.

She chose to ignore him and moved over to Charlotte, seeking to distract herself. “This is a beautiful house, is it not?” she remarked, for lack of anything better to say.

“This house is representative of a remarkable piece of history, my dear
Serafina,”
Charlotte said in a superior tone that only added to Serafina’s discomforture. “Although I have not visited it since the time I was a small child, I can tell you that it contains some of the finest treasures to be found in England. For example …” Charlotte proceeded to reel off a long list of antiquities and paintings, her second favorite subject next to God.

Serafina
listened patiently, tuning out most of Charlotte’s drone. She was far more interested in observing Aiden and Raphael, for other than their encounter in the meadow after her fall, this was the first opportunity since her marriage that she’d had to watch them together.

They appeared at complete ease in each other’s company. All the stories Raphael had recounted to her about his friendship with Aiden came flooding back and she could see how close they really were. She couldn’t help the twinge of guilt that tugged at her. She knew so much more about Aiden than he realized.

He had no idea that she and Raphael had also become friends, good friends, that he had been a constant topic of conversation during those three weeks Raphael had patiently tutored her. He had no way of knowing how far Raphael had brought her along on the path to accepting her marriage, how much he had prepared the ground for her being able to fall in love with her husband.

For all Aiden knew, she and Raphael were little more than strangers. And that thought made her uneasy for the first time, for despite her recent alienation from Aiden, the last thing she ever wanted was for him to feel betrayed, to think they’d deliberately withheld a secret from him.

Something dark and frightening tugged at the back of her mind, a hazy thought she couldn’t grasp hold of, but she shivered with a sense of foreboding.

Time will run
back…

Serafina
passed a hand over her face, forcibly jerking her attention back to Charlotte, but her skin felt clammy, a cold sweat covering her from head to toe, leaving her weak and shaken. And she had no idea why.

Aiden kept a discreet but watchful eye on
Serafina
as he conversed with his father and cousin. He was fully aware of how apprehensive
Serafina
had been about this trip, so apprehensive that she’d been pale and withdrawn, had hardly spoken a word in the last two days. Not that he’d been feeling particularly talkative himself. He honestly hadn’t known how to behave toward her after what had passed between them the other night.

He still reeled from the shock of having his soul stripped naked and he had no intention of repeating the experience, no matter how fond he might be of
Serafina.
There were some things that didn’t bear exposure to the light of day, and his heart was one of them.

The trouble was that
Serafina
had an uncanny ability to go marching all over his inner recesses with no effort at all, and he was powerless to resist her, a highly dangerous state of affairs.

He’d deliberately avoided any further physical contact with her that night, terrified that making love to her again would send him back to that other place where he lost all sense of order, even identity, his defensive shield torn away, leaving him exposed and shaken.

And he hadn’t made love to her since, mainly because he’d been concerned about her health. She’d been looking so pale and he certainly didn’t want to induce another faint. But he didn’t know how much longer he could stay away.
Serafina
was more irresistible than ever.

“Well, here you all are,” the duchess said, coming swiftly into the room with a rustle of silk, a warm smile of welcome on her beautiful face, so like her son’s. “Delaware, I’m so glad you decided to accept my invitation—and Aiden, dearest, how nice to see you after all this time!”

“It’s good to be home,” he said, meaning it. “You haven’t aged a day since I last saw you.”

“Flatterer. And Charlotte—what a wonderful treat. You look exceeding well, my dear,” she said, bending down and kissing Charlotte’s cheek.

“Thank you, Duchess,” Charlotte said, accepting the kiss with a light flush on her cheeks. “You are so kind to have us.”