Libertine's Wife (16 page)

Some of the pleasure of the new clothes
was diminished to know he’d chosen everything for her. While she
was agog with his generosity and could hardly argue his taste in
style or color, she had nothing to say in what was chosen. Her
husband took such matters upon himself.

She was handed up into the coach; still
miffed at his controlling behavior. She bristled to think he didn’t
think her capable of selecting appropriate attire for a titled
marchioness. Her ruffled feathers flapped in outrage as the coach
made for home.

Arianne was disappointed to find him
gone upon her return. Garret left a note to let her know he had
many appointments that day. He would arrive back by the dinner
hour. She was growing bored as she waited for her son to return
from the park.

She took the time to acquaint herself
with the house, wandering around from room to room. She walked out
French doors leading to well-tended gardens, deciding to take a
walk.

Arianne thought of his much-changed
demeanor and questioned it as she walked among the fragrant
rosebushes lining the walk. He’d forgiven the past, it appeared, or
chose to ignore it out of necessity. For whatever reason, he wanted
her here. It remained to be seen for how long that would
be.

Arianne was still miffed over
discovering his bedding the maids the night before, appalled to
think her husband could summon the stamina for three women at the
same time. Her recalling her wedding night and his insatiable
appetites made her grimace in disgust. He more than had it in him,
she recalled with heated cheeks; and then some.

A feeling she was being watched made
her stiffen. She’d wandered far to the rear of the house before she
sensed she wasn’t alone. The hair stood up on the back of her neck.
She looked about and saw the gardens were deserted.

Arianne determined she was being silly
as she hurried back the way she came, a chill going down her spine
as the feeling persisted until she was once more safe within the
house. She laughed nervously, feeling silly to think someone
watched her during her walk.

A man stood at the back of the gardens,
obscured by the hedges, his eyes burning as he watched her hasty
retreat. He moved away to the low wall surrounding the garden and
jumped up and over it.

Arianne used her time to become
familiar with the running of the household. Mrs. Phelps was
delighted to give her a tour and explain the servants cleaning
schedules to her. She thought it was her task to direct these
servants. She was informed it was unnecessary.

Much like Ravensford Hall, the house
ran itself quite efficiently. She was disappointed to know from
Mrs. Phelps there were few duties outside of menu planning each day
that required her attention.

A frown puckered her brow to recall her
husband claiming she had much to attend to. He cited important
matters to justify his bringing her to London. The housekeeper
assured her the staff needed little direction and returned to her
own duties, leaving Arianne confused as she took tea in the
salon.

Whatever duties her husband referred to
must be social in nature. His household required no attention, she
was told by a proud Mrs. Phelps. The housekeeper considered it a
credit to her own efforts that her mistress was free to engage in
other pursuits.

Whatever those pursuits were remained a
mystery. A vague feeling of disappointment made her even more
irritated. Whatever duties he implied would wait until he saw fit
to reveal them.

Jaime and his nanny returned from the
park. If she hoped he was tired and in need of a nap, his blazing
past her with his nanny on his heels disabused her of such a
notion. Jaime was full of energy as he entertained her in the salon
while she tried to quell her own growing irritation. She was not
used to having nothing to do all day long. Her own child had
servants here. Even after one day, she was fitfully
bored.

The time passed with a miserable
slowness and finally her son spun out of energy like a toy top and
dozed on the settee. She sighed as she set about righting the
damage to the room, gathering up his toys and picking up throw
pillows strewn everywhere. She carried him up to the nursery and
upon her return, saw a messenger leaving.

The butler, named Elliot, smiled up at
her and indicated a silver tray overflowing with cards. “These have
been coming all afternoon, madam,” he intoned dourly. “They are all
addressed to you, Lady Ravensford.”

A faint feeling of delight swept over
her as she walked down the stairs to peruse the tray. Eyes widened
as she mentally counted the dozen or so envelopes there. She took
her correspondence into her salon.

She sat at the elegant desk to read
them. Each note was from ladies who witnessed her arrival to the
dress shop. Each one wanted to convey welcome and invited her to
tea, or some other affair.

A hesitant smile curved her lips when
she thought of how she misconstrued their interest in the dress
shop, interpreting their rudeness incorrectly.

As she’d never been properly introduced
to society, she could only assume it was impolite to approach her
without a formal introduction. She would have to try and recall
Lady Vale’s lessons to know how to answer each note.

She didn’t want to ask Garret,
bristling to think of how he mocked her like a country bumpkin
years ago. No, she knew some etiquette dictated her responses and
would dwell on the matter for a time.

Within the hour, Elliot was to bring
her more such note cards. Twenty-two in all sat in front of her.
She was rather stunned to be so besieged within a day of her
arrival to town. The gossip swirling about them these last three
years must have precipitated such interest. A smile curved her lips
to think of how her sudden popularity would please
Garret.

Suddenly a frown marred her smooth
brow. Feelings of insecurity stole over her, making her reflect she
was unworthy of such consideration. She feared she’d embarrass
herself and him, desolate at the thought. She chewed her lower lip
as she reread each and every note, feeling the panic set
in.

~ ~ ~

Mr. Helms was a short, wiry man with a
balding pate and keen gray eyes. He regarded his employer with a
faint smile as he sat before him.

Lord Ravensford rarely made
an appointment. He could be known to be mercurial in temperament.
His employer’s sudden arrival at his offices piqued his interest.
The man was positively
cheerful
, if he was not
mistaken.

Ravensford was never prone to bouts of
cheerfulness in the years he served him after his father died. He
rarely smiled and had the propensity to brood in his experience.
Whatever brought a smile to the man’s face today, it was a
refreshing change.

“
To what do I owe the
pleasure of your visit, my lord?”

Garret sat back regarding his solicitor
of twenty-three years with another grin. “I require access to my
mother’s jewels. The collection belongs to my wife. She’s in
residence and will require the use of them.”

Thomas Helms almost gaped at him. Lady
Ravensford was banished to her husband’s country estate these last
three years. Her return was no doubt responsible for the ready
smiles he observed today. He felt relief to know the man overcame
the way the marriage began.

Thomas was still perplexed Lord
Ravensford never approached him then to undermine that particular
plot hatched by Sir Eustace Dunne. It wasn’t the first time he’d
rescued his employer from a wily lady determined to marry a rich
marquis.

The fact Lord Ravensford allowed it and
said nothing to him until after the fact, spoke volumes. He was
obviously fascinated with Lady Arianne Dunne enough to allow
himself to be forced to the altar, even paying off her scoundrel of
a brother’s mountainous debts. They never spoke of it
since.

Helms didn’t dare point out such
contradictions to a man like Ravensford. He refused to conform,
bend, or negotiate on anything he didn’t wish to, which was his
nature. The fact he allowed himself to be led by the nose that day
was anyone’s guess.

Perhaps the man thought it time he
began to try for a legitimate heir? Whatever the case, he was
married. As a result, Helms now routed all correspondence and
communication from his former paramours to his office in deference
to Lord Ravensford’s matrimonial state.

The ladies in question were not happy
to deal with him instead of his employer. The five of them all paid
him a visit since Ravensford’s marriage. They all wished to know
why his lordship insisted his children be sent to his apartments in
town for his weekly visits, instead of his making an appearance at
their individual residences.

They were all enraged to know he did so
out of consideration to his wife. Ravensford wanted no hint of
scandal now that his wife was back in town. His former mistresses
huffed to be denied time alone with their former protector. Thomas
assumed some still tried to gain his lordship’s favor, even now
that the liaison was at an end.

Thomas was more than pleased by this
turn of events. He shuffled within his desk for the key to the bank
box which held the extensive collection. The former Marchioness of
Ravensford’s jewels rivaled a queen’s. For that reason, they
remained in a bank vault when not used for social
occasions.

“
How is Lady Ravensford
settling in, my lord?” Helms inquired solicitously as he offered
him the key across the desk. Another smile flitted across the man’s
face.
That makes five times he’s smiled in
the last ten minutes! That must mean very well,
Thomas thought smugly, and watched Garret’s expressive eyes
light up at mention of his wife.

“
She and the boy are
settling in very well, Helms,” Garret answered and tucked the key
in his vest. “I foresee her staying on with me.”

Helms eyes widened slightly
at that admission.
Oh this was very good
news!
He cleared his throat, hiding his
pleasure to know his most outrageous, troublesome client was now
ensconced safely in a marriage where he belonged.

Ravensford’s former mistresses besieged
him weekly with their demands, and those with his children, daily.
Knowing Lord Ravensford was tucked away at home with a wife was to
add years to his life managing the man’s considerable
fortune.

“
A word of caution to you,
my lord,” Helms warned as he sat back before the man took his
leave. “I am aware of a rash of robberies in the area. Be on your
guard. These thieves would have a king’s ransom in jewels should
they target your home.”

Garret was barely listening to the
man’s words of warning, visualizing Arianne naked, wearing nothing
but the jewels. His steps were light as he left the solicitor’s
office and headed to his bank.

The manager greeted him warmly and
helped him with the transaction. Garret tucked the heavy leather
case under his arm as he left. He imagined his wife’s delight as he
showed her what now belonged to her as the Marchioness of
Ravensford.

Arianne was fretting the ridiculously
huge pile of correspondence when her husband arrived home. She
heard him arrive and shoved the nearly sixty cards and letters into
her desk drawer. In her confusion, she’d answered none of them the
last two hours they continued to arrive. Panic was a mild word when
she didn’t know which one’s demanded her attention
first.

Garret found her in the salon, a grin
on his face to see her seated at her secretary. The approval in his
glance warmed her. If he saw her dismay, he didn’t show it as he
bade her join him in his study, a mysterious case under his
arm.

Arianne was too stunned to do more than
stare as he opened the case and showed her the elaborate jewelry
collection within. It was considerable, to be sure, handed down
over the years to each Marchioness of Ravensford.

The diamonds, rubies, emeralds,
sapphires, and pearls of every conceivable color, set in lovely
settings of gold, silver, and platinum stared back at her. The
glittering jewels on the black velvet trays proved to be her
undoing. Growing short of breath, she slid into a chair, eyes round
and distressed.

Seeing her look of dismay, Garret
frowned, setting down a tray. “What is it? I show you a fortune in
jewelry and you look like you would faint dead away.”

“
It’s too much!” Arianne
gasped, fanning her face with her hand, eyes seeing stars before
her gaze.

Garret chuckled in agreement. “You can
thank my mother and her vanity that you have so many pieces to
choose from. I think she has one of the most coveted collections in
England, if not all of Europe.”

“
But…but…surely you do not
mean for me to wear them, Garret?” Arianne sputtered, overwhelmed
at such staggering riches. “What if I should lose something? I
can’t be responsible for them. I thank you, but I must insist you
take them back wherever you had them stored.”

Garret could see she was overwrought.
“They are now yours, Arianne. As my wife, the collection belongs to
you. One day they will pass on to Jaime’s wife, and so on. Feel
free to enjoy them. I must insist you try some of the pieces on
before you decide. My mother had quite good taste. You will be
pleased, I think.”