Authors: Madeline Hunter
When Alexia wrote and invited her, she had considered not accepting. Alexia and Hayden had returned from the country several days ago, and they probably knew about those memoirs. If so, she would not really be welcome. Now, however, she suspected that Alexia and Hayden did not know. Easterbrook did, however. His behavior toward her had been correct, even gracious, but she had caught him eyeing her several times the way a hawk watches a mouse.
"As a man, I doubt you fully understand the matter or have interpreted our cousin's humor correctly," Easterbrook said in response to Hayden*s assurance. "I would be more at ease if your wife joined in, or even nodded in agreement with you."
Alexia's color rose at Easterbrook's request that she either support or compromise her husband's opinion.
It still amazed Phaedra that Alexia had fallen in love with Hayden. Alexia had married for the most practical of reasons, then lost her heart. Phaedra would never have expected such a development, especially with the man in question.
Lord Hayden was handsome, to be sure, but severe and cold. Unlike Elliot, his demeanor and character did not soften the Rothwell face. Alexia, however, insisted that the world did not know the true man.
"Christian, you must not sow seeds of discord between husband and wife," Elliot said. "If Alexia chooses to disagree with her husband, she will do so. Our hostess has never hesitated to speak her mind when she thought it necessary."
Alexia appeared grateful for Elliot's interference. Phaedra had noticed that they shared a friendly bond. All three brothers seemed to hold Alexia in high esteem.
That impressed her, and made her more comfortable at this dinner. Nor had she been treated as the outsider that she was, both to society and to this table. Alexia's invitation had begged her to come. The two of them had shared some quiet talk and news in the drawing room before coining down.
"Nonsense," Easterbrook said. "Hayden would not mind if his wife moved from her position of neutrality. He knows that women know women's minds better than we do. What say you, Alexia?" Has Caroline been cowed or does she plot an intrigue?"
"No one can know another's mind. Lord Easterbrook." Phaedra said. "Nor do all women think the same way. Alexia is much too sensible to know the mind of a young girl bedazzled by a title."
She succeeded in drawing Easterbrook's attention from Alexia rather too well. He regarded her so directly that bodies shifted in their seats.
Elliot came to the rescue. "I think that it is not Caroline's mind that will matter, but Aunt Hen's. She may be more bedazzled than her daughter."
"Exactly," Alexia said. "It is Henrietta who must be reasoned with. We are making great progress there."
Hayden changed the subject. The men carried the conversation. Phaedra and Alexia held their own, silently, exchanging female looks that spoke volumes.
Elliot noticed, but did not react. He had been a little odd tonight. Ever since he met her coach outside he had appeared just
...
different. She found him looking at her in the same way he had that first time in her chambers in Naples, as if he were seeing her anew and measuring what he had.
Perhaps it was the part)' affecting him. She was thoroughly in his world tonight. Nor had she pretended to be other than she was, except for wearing her blue dress. There was no benefit in pretending to be meek and normal. And she would be damned before she allowed Easterbrook to either awe her or intimidate her.
The meal finished. Alexia invited her back to the drawing room. The door closed on the brothers and their port and cigars. Phaedra wondered if the men would be discussing Caroline's precarious hold on her virtue, or the pressing matter of Richard Dairy's memoirs.
"I am so grateful that you agreed to attend," Alexia said, sitting right beside her on a settee. "It gave me an excuse to leave Hen down at Aylesbury, for one thing."
In other words, Hen did not approve of Phaedra Blair and would not sit at a table with her. "Then I am happy I came, if it provided relief from her company."
"Have you enjoyed it at all? I know Easterbrook can be—"
"I have enjoyed it tremendously." And she had. She found the brothers' bonds touching. She rather envied
Elliot, and understood all the more why blood usually won out in any competition for a person's loyalty.
"I am also joyed to see how you are completely one of them, Alexia. I had not seen you among them before like I have tonight. You have found another family as surely as if you had been born into it. I think each man at that table would lay down his life to protect you and your child."
Alexia blushed. "They are all doting, aren't they? It was very sweet how Elliot spoke to me when I saw him again today. Although I wonder if his visit to Italy was to his liking. He seems distracted by something, as if he would not mind being alone instead of among a party tonight."
The man in question entered the drawing room. He appeared not the least bit distracted right now, but instead serious and determined.
"Alexia, please forgive me, but I would like to speak with Miss Blair alone. Would you mind if I stole her away for a short while? Il is a conversation that should not wait."
Alexia's eyebrows rose a fraction. She gave Phaedra a subtle glance.
I
expect to be told what this is about.
"Certainly, I do not mind. I will go to the library."
"Please do not inconvenience yourself. The others will be up shortly. Miss Blair, perhaps a turn in the garden would suit you. We can chat while we enjoy the fragrance of the late blooms."
Phaedra ignored how interesting Alexia found
that
.
She accepted the invitation, wondering what topic required Elliot's extraordinary demand for privacy.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
"Did your brothers order you to sally forth to battle me again, Elliot?"
"They were as astonished by my departure from the dining room as you were by my request." He led her over to an iron bench and bade her sit. He remained standing, however. "Although if I had walked out on them in anger I would have been justified, Christian was telling Hayden about the memoirs. I daresay they will discuss that matter a long while."
"Discuss me, you mean." She wondered if she would regret his demand for this privacy. If Lord Hayden were of the same mind as Easterbrook, she might have just forgone the last few minutes ever to be had with Alexia.
She could not see Elliot's expression in the dark, but she sensed his mind working. Calculating. Deciding.
"Phaedra, there has been an untoward development about our untoward development."
It look a moment for her lo realize that he referred to the wedding in Positano. "Not too untoward, I trust"
"Remarkably untoward." He set his foot on the bench beside her and leaned over his knee so his face and voice were closer. "This morning my solicitor told me that the marriage is most likely valid and will be upheld as such in any challenge."
All thought and feeling disappeared while she absorbed the shock. Then a variety of emotions burst in her heart. They shouted and clashed. They created chaos with their unruliness. Her mind, however, achieved an astonishing clarity.
"No wonder you were looking al me so oddly during dinner. It is a miracle that you did not take to drink at this news."
He did not respond to that, which was gallant of him. She also understood why he wanted to speak out here in the dark. She doubted he could hide his dismay any more than she could.
"I do not see how I can be married when I did not choose to marry, when I did not sign a contract, and when it was a Catholic ceremony." she said.
"I spent the afternoon with a proctor who has argued similar cases and he explained it. A marriage that is legal in the country where it happens is binding here that is well supported by the ecclesiastical courts. Nor must it be a priest of the English church that solemnizes the vows in such cases. He believes no challenge will stand, but he suggested that for certainty the ceremony be repealed here."
"Why would I repeat vows that I never though I made?"
He turned his head and looked al the house. He gazed up at the windows overlooking the garden. He offered his hand. "Walk with me, Phaedra. I will tell you exactly what was told to me."
He fucked her arm tinder his and spoke quietly while they strolled up and down the garden path. Her heart pounded harder with each step and each word.
"That marriage does not fit into the neat categories of the law. Therefore its validity becomes a matter of interpretation in the courts. There are no secure predictions of how a judgment in our case will go," he said. "When the proctor suggested the vows be repeated, he was thinking of a challenge later, due to questions of inheritance or the legitimacy of children. That is what my solicitor meant when he spoke of it surviving a challenge as well. Both of them were so confident that the marriage would be judged valid that they only recommended another ceremony to avoid someone creating a scandal by trying to exploit the ambiguities later."
"The lawyers viewed all of it backward, Elliot, and their advice is flawed as a result. We do not want assurances it will stand. We want to make sure it does not"
"There is a presumption of validity in the court. If we claim it was not valid then we would bear the burden of proof."
The panic in her blood began to enter her head. "I think someone else should have to prove that it
is
valid."
"Phaedra, I learned more about the case law in this matter today than any man needs to know. Even in England the statutes are not always applied as clearly as one would expect. Some of the judgments that were cited astonished me. Marriages deemed valid despite no proper license, for example. The fact we did not sign that license in Positano is of little account, especially since our words alone create the validity in that country, under those laws." He drew her under the canopy of a tree. "It appears that you are stuck with me, darling."
She could not believe she was hearing this. The panic grew, threatening her composure.
He moved to embrace her. She broke free of his arms. "This is not an
untoward development,
Elliot. This is a
disaster"
She paced away, struggling lo reclaim her rational sense. Surely he had heard wrong. There had to be a way to set this aside.
"You spoke of ambiguities. I would think there are enough lo void this from the start. Which ones did your lawyers see as creating problems later?"
"Phaedra—"
"No.
No.
I never married for a reason, Elliot. I made a decision after thinking hard and long on the matter. I will not find myself now married by accident rather than choice. You must toll me if there is any way at all to undo this."
He crossed his arms. It emphasized his size compared to hers, and communicated his mood, which now thickened the air.
She hated when men took that pose.
Hated
it.
"I could divorce you. That is one way to undo it. You would have to give me cause, however, and I am not inclined to allow that"
Allow it?
Heaven preserve her, he was sounding like a husband already.
"Divorce means a marriage occurred and I deny that one did." Her racing thoughts collected around her last statement. "We must explain that we were not willing. We must explain that there was no consent"
"An entire town heard us make those vows. No one saw a sword at our necks when we did so."
"The situation was as bad as a sword at our necks. Once we describe it that will be clear to the Church. If we explain that neither of us said those words willingly, that should be enough."
He looked down at her. She searched the shadows of his face for indications of his relief.
"I was not coerced, Phaedra. I did it to protect you, that is true. But I said the words fully accepting that they might bind me. I will not lie about that."
His calm acceptance of this marriage shocked her. "You cannot want this."
"I did not seek it but I am not so distraught as you are. After what we have shared, it is a small step."
"You will be distraught soon enough. You do not need a marriage to have whatever you can share with me. You gain nothing by this except responsibility for a woman who will never accept your rights to her."
No sooner had she said it than the truth sliced through her desperation. He did gain something. Something he and his family wanted very badly.
She gazed at his dark form in the heavy night shadows. A wife lost everything in a marriage. The law gave the husband her property, her voice, her children, even her separate selfhood.
Would he do it? Would he take such a rash step to get control of the press and the memoirs? She thought the gain very small compared to the cost.
He strode to her and pulled her into his arms. He kissed her hard, as if passion could obliterate the horrible suspicion that had entered her mind.
"It is not that," he said hoarsely. "If I did not take that manuscript when I left your bed last week, I would not sell myself for it now."
His kiss confused her more. She could not sort her thoughts because they came so fast and scattered. "Then why?"
"Because of this." He kissed her again, long and deep.
"You already have that," she whispered.
"I will not have it any longer if you petition the court to invalidate this marriage."
"If I choose to give it, you will. It is my decision—"
"It is no longer. If you claim your words were coerced, we cannot continue as we were. We cannot say such vows, share a bed, and then claim we are not married. The past alone may cause the marriage to be held valid if it becomes known. We were not discreet in Italy. To continue an affair here, lo have any private contact, would ensure the judges dismiss your petition."
His tone, so clear and firm, so lacking true sympathy, sounded cruel. He described a terrible choice.
Helplessness and anger poured out of her heart. She barely contained what it did to her. She should not have to give him up for such a stupid reason.
She saw the choice too clearly, and it sickened her. To relinquish their friendship, lo never feel his touch, to retreat from all intimacy—or to accept the legal shackles the law forged for women, and to submit in every way to the rule of another person.
She could name the ways. She had heard them enumerated by her mother for eighteen years.
"It need not go that way," she cried, violently rejecting both stark alternatives. "No one really knows what happened in Italy. No one was actually with us. If we are discreet here, no one will know either."
He grasped her upper arms in his two hands, as if he sought to control a madwoman. "We will be under oath. I will not lie. Nor will you."
"You cannot want this. You
cannot
.
Think, Elliot. The world will mock you if we are man and wife. I will not be other than I am not for you or your family. Everyone will laugh and say you have the most odd wife, with strange ideas and eccentric habits. They will—"
"They will say I married a woman who is almost as odd as my brother. Nor do I care what is said."
Her eyes burned. She covered them with her hands and pressed hard, trying to hold the tears back. Her heart weighed thick and
heavy
.
He released her arms and embraced her again. That only made it worse. The warmth, the memories, moved her so deeply that she lost the battle with her emotion and wept. She experienced the grief that was waiting, the loss if they parted, the nostalgia that would tear at her heart.
She wanted desperately for that pain to convince her to accept the alternative. She urged her emotion to say marriage to this man would be good, not a prison.
He held her while the worst of it poured out, wrapping her closely with his arms. The warmth of his mouth pressed her crown.
Her heart twisted and tightened and shattered. She would miss this most of all. This and the knowing that went deeper than any friendship.
His aura changed. It was as if the Rothwell sternness lost its grip. The night breeze bore it away.
She pressed her damp eyes against his shoulder. "This is not the way that any marriage should be made, least of all one for me. I must try to undo this. Elliot."
His palm came to rest on the back of her head. The gesture of comfort almost made her weep again.
"Will you help me, Elliot? I do not expect you to lie, but will you not fight it?"
"You are asking me to give you up completely, Phaedra. I do not know if I can."
"Not completely. Afterward we can be friends again. I do not want to think that we will forever be parted over this, Elliot"
"It will be a long while before I can touch you again, darling. The courts work slowly." He turned her head and kissed her cheek. "You are asking more than you will ever understand."
"You think so now, but you will see soon enough that I would never make a good wife. My character is too malformed to find contentment in that role." She attempted a smile, but it only made her mouth quiver. "I am saving you. You seek to be honorable and do the right thing, and that is good and noble of you. But once your desire has passed, you would hate this unsuitable match, and be miserable that it had been forced on you."
He touched her lips with his fingers. "This separation will be more unnatural than the marriage you describe. For many weeks I have thought of you as mine. Kiss me now, so I have one last taste of you."
Her heart rebelled at how he named this a last kiss. It screamed its anger as their mouths met. It wept with frustration while she clutched him in a frantic embrace.
He held her more firmly, as if bidding the storm to calm. Her spirit obeyed the silent command. The clouds scattered, the cool air flowed, and she was totally with him again one last time, in a place of warmth and light and freedom.
"Are you drunk?" Hayden asked the question while he closed the library door. He glanced at the decanter on the table and the glass in Elliot's hand.
"That is the last tiling I need now. I did want some privacy, however."
"I will leave you to it then."
"Hell, it is your home. Your library and your spirits. I'll go."
"Stay." Hayden s smile made it a request. "I am glad you delayed your departure. It gives me the opportunity to speak with you alone about the revelations belatedly granted to me today."
Elliot remembered Hayden'$ face after dinner while Christian laid out the matter of the memoirs. Hayden*s annoyance had not been directed at either Phaedra or Richard Drury, but at the two brothers who had neglected to confide in him earlier.
That annoyance snapped again, quietly. "Learning about those memoirs explains much. Chalgrove approached me last month, asking if Alexia had influence with Miss Blair and could she arrange a meeting. I was stupid enough to think he had developed a fascination. Now I think it more likely that he worries he is in those pages."