Lovers Forever (32 page)

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Authors: Shirlee Busbee

BOOK: Lovers Forever
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The fact that she was a Mandeville would present some immediate difficulties, though.... His grandmother was not going to be pleased with his choice of bride. When the circumstances surrounding the hasty wedding were explained, she would no doubt agree that marriage was the only solution, but Nick found himself shying away from the prospect of telling her the unvarnished truth. Pallas was going to have trouble enough dealing with the fact that he was going to marry the great-granddaughter of the woman who had run off with her husband and the niece of the man who had killed her grandson, and she was going to lay the blame for the current situation solely at Tess's door—even if it more rightly should rest upon his shoulders.
He sighed. He couldn't think of any way to soften the blow, and he knew with a sinking heart that the truth must be told—he owed it to Pallas and to Tess, and to do otherwise would only sink him in a worse quagmire. With all the years of coldness between the two families, Pallas was certain to hate Tess even if the match had come about under more normal circumstances, and having the normal male's aversion to a household of warring women, he was uneasily aware that there were going to be some decidedly chancy days ahead.
It was afternoon before Nicolas arrived at Sherbourne Court, and the news that his grandmother was home, but that Athena had elected to remain a few more days visiting with friends, didn't displease him. He would have liked Athena to be present when he married Tess—it would have helped to still wagging tongues if the families presented a united front—but it couldn't be helped. He wasn't about to endanger the wary truce that presently existed between them by demanding that Athena return home immediately, nor was he willing to postpone the wedding. By this time tomorrow he had every intention of facing the world with his bride at his side—whether she wanted to be his bride or not!
Despite his firm conviction that marriage to Tess was the only answer to several pressing problems, her vehement rejection of marriage to him did weigh irritatingly on his mind. He couldn't pretend that his pride hadn't taken a battering. Any other woman, he thought resentfully as he went in search of his grandmother, would have been relieved and, yes, dammit, grateful that he was willing to do the honorable thing by her. A rueful smile curved his mouth. And if she had been, she wouldn't have been the fascinating little baggage he greatly feared had come to mean more than anything else in the world to him....
Telling Pallas was every bit as hard as Nick had feared it would be. Though he spared himself nothing in the telling of the tale, it was clear from Pallas's stunned, angry white face that she was convinced it was all a plot on the part of the horrid Mandevilles. Not even mention of the Rockwells' approval of the match swayed her. He couldn't blame her—hadn't he thought, with far less evidence, that Tess had been trying to trap him into marriage? He could smile now at his own folly, but he understood his grandmother's reaction. More than anyone else she had borne the brunt of the painful scandal nearly seventy years ago. More recently, her eldest grandson had died at the hands of another Mandeville—her wounds went deeper than anyone's.
“I know I wanted you to marry,” she admitted miserably after the first storm of anger and disbelief had passed. “And it's true that I have never met the young lady and that she might be utterly charming. I'm quite positive also that to any other family but ours, it might be considered an excellent match, but it isn't to
me
!”
She sent him a deeply reproachful glance that made Nicolas's heart twist. He had never wanted to hurt his grandmother. But dammit, he
was
going to marry Tess. Even in the midst of the painful discussion with Pallas, the astonishing knowledge suddenly occurred to him that he really did want to marry Tess Mandeville and that he was going to let nothing stand in his way. Not even Pallas.
In a gentle voice he asked, “Grandmother, can't you put aside the past? What happened long ago wasn't Tess's fault. And it is through no fault of her own that she has found herself compromised. More rightly you should be railing at me for acting the part of a cad.”
“I know,” Pallas said tiredly, her face worn and drawn, the blue eyes full of despair. “You've explained what happened in great detail, but even if it isn't her fault, you can't possibly expect me to welcome
that woman's
offspring into my home.” She almost wailed, “And as your
bride
!”
“What would you have me do?” Nicolas asked. “Prove myself totally without honor and walk away from the situation? Or perhaps,” he inquired grimly, knowing it was probably the only argument that would sway her, “you'd like me to face her uncles on the dueling field?”
Pallas's already pale features paled even more. Terror in her eyes, she breathed, “Oh, God! No! I couldn't go through that again!”
Her pain tore at his heart. Kneeling impetuously beside her where she sat on the sofa, he took one of her hands in his and pressed a kiss into the scented palm. “I'm sorry to have caused you such terrible anguish,” he said gruffly. “God knows I never meant to! And if I could have spared you this ordeal, I would have, but there is nothing that can be done.” His eyes met hers. “You must understand that as much as you dislike it,
hate
it, there is no alternative.” Suddenly thinking of one last line of reasoning that might make his choice of a bride more acceptable, he asked softly, “Have you considered that Tess might even now be pregnant? That your first grandchild, your
only
grandchild, might even now be growing in her womb?”
Pallas's face crumpled. “Marry her if you will,” she said in broken tones. “Oh, but, Nicolas, I cannot be happy about this. Don't ask it of me.”
In the silence broken only by Pallas's muffled sobs as she looked away from him and sought to compose herself, Nicolas's face twisted. He had obtained a victory of sorts, but he wondered why it tasted like defeat.
Rising slowly to his feet a few minutes later, when the worst of his grandmother's tears had dried, he stared at her ravaged features and said dully, “Tess and her aunts shall remain at the cottage until the wedding. I will not inflict her or them upon you any sooner than I must.”
Dabbing at her eyes with a lacy handkerchief, Pallas gave a watery chuckle. “Oh, Nick, life was so serene and predictable before you came home! One day following uneventfully after the other—our only suspense being in whether it would rain or not, or what Cook was fixing for dinner. Now look at us: we have a young lady fleeing from a wicked blackguard; smugglers lurking about everywhere, it seems; a lost memory; an attempted murder; a midnight rescue; and a sudden marriage!”
His eyes fixed intently upon her wan face, he asked quietly, “Are you really able to accept my marriage to Tess so easily?”
She looked thoughtful. “It isn't what I wanted, but I suppose one could say that things have worked out for the best—I
do
get to see you married before much more time elapses, and there is the possibility that before I die, I shall hold a grandchild or two in my arms. And of course, there is one other thing that makes the marriage more acceptable to me....”
At Nicolas's puzzled expression, she said cheerfully, an impish twinkle in her blue eyes, “Just think how furious the current Baron Mandeville is going to be when he discovers who married the heiress this time!”
Chapter Eighteen
W
hile Avery Mandeville hadn't yet learned the full extent of his defeat, he strongly suspected the earl's fine hand in at least
some
of his recent reversals.
The past several days had not been pleasant for the newest Baron Mandeville. The arrival of Rockwell's letter with the unwelcome news of the impending visit had been only the start of his troubles. In the beginning, Avery had seen his automatic interception of the letter as a stroke of luck and had immediately set into motion his plans for a forced marriage. And that, he thought sourly as he sat alone in the great hall of the manor that Monday evening, drinking glass after glass of excellent French burgundy, had been the last positive thing that had happened to him.
Upon reaching London, he had swiftly changed his clothes and refreshed himself at the Mandeville town house on Grosvenor Square—coincidentally just down and across the square from the Sherbourne town house. On the point of stepping into his carriage for the ride to Hanover Square, he'd chanced upon an acquaintance, and the subsequent conversation had given him pause. The loquacious gentleman had been full of the usual town gossip, but the information that he had breakfasted that very morning with Lord Rockwell had arrested Avery's attention.
A few discreet questions on Avery's part elicited the extremely interesting information that there had been no sign of, nor any mention of, Tess. In fact, according to this amiable soul, Rockwell had been full of plans to leave on Saturday for a visit with his niece and from there on to Cornwall for the remainder of the year. The knocker was being taken down from the town house door, dust covers were already being placed over furniture, and it was clear that the house was being closed up for the season.
Looking thoughtful, Avery canceled his carriage and returned to the house. Was it possible that Tess hadn't arrived in London? Could he have reached the City before her? It seemed unlikely—she'd had a head start of many hours—but there had been a storm last night....
Deciding not to rush over to the Rockwell town house, he looked up an unsavory acquaintance of his. Avery wasn't one of Jack Denning's intimates, but they'd had a few dealings in the past. And Jack, with his connections within London's dark underbelly, was just the fellow Avery needed.
By Friday morning Avery was assured by Jack that Tess was not at her uncle's house. So where was she? Just a little worried now, he had Denning put someone to watch over the Hanover Square house and a few other cohorts to check the roads leading from Kent to London, and he forced himself to wait patiently. Tess was certain to show up at any time. And if she managed to slip through the watchers on the roads leading into the City—that red hair of hers was hard to miss—then the spy situated near the house was bound to see her. He also sent a message to his servants at the manor, inquiring if, by some wild chance, Tess had returned home.
While he waited for Tess's appearance or an answer to his message, Avery considered calling upon the Rockwells anyway, but caution held him back. He was very aware that Rockwell and his brother held a general dislike of him and would be suspicious of his unexpected arrival in Town. He saw no reason to tip his hand if it wasn't imperative. By the next day there was still no sign of Tess. He received the return message from Lowell informing him that all was well at the manor, but that the young lady was not there, either. It began to dawn on him that something had gone seriously wrong. His spies swore there had been no sign of her, either on the roads or at the Rockwell mansion.
There was nothing further to be gained by staying in London, and deciding that his next step would be a pertinent conversation with the aunts, he prepared to return home on Sunday. It was possible that Tess had taken refuge somewhere else ... that he had been totally wrong in believing that she had fled to the protection of her uncles. He wasn't certain how to view this change of events. It could prove most fortunate if Tess were some place from which he could easily abduct her, but it could also create a host of new problems. Not in the best of moods, he ordered his carriage and horses and left for Mandeville, missing Nick's arrival in London to obtain the special license by mere minutes.
The news that greeted Avery upon his return home was almost as unsettling as Tess's disappearance. With the aunts' escape, for the first time he began to suspect that Nicolas Talmage had to be involved in some of his troubles. He knew all about the longtime friendship between the Rockwells and the Talmage family, and it would have taken someone a lot less suspicious than he not to have realized that once the Rockwells had been denied entrance to the manor, they would instantly have retired to the home of a friend who resided in the neighborhood. From there it was an easy leap to place Nick right in the middle of the aunts' escape from Mandeville Manor. But where was Tess?
His icy blue eyes narrowed. Was it possible that somehow Nick and Tess had met? He brooded over that for some time but eventually dismissed it. If Nick were behind Tess's nonarrival in London, the noble earl, Avery thought with a sneer on his face, wouldn't have waited until Saturday night to rescue the aunts. No. The rescue of the aunts had come about only because the Rockwells had gotten the wind up. He was positive of that.
Feeling a little better about that aspect of the various puzzles before him, Avery speculated on what would happen next. He knew he was in a dangerous corner. His finances were tight these days, and not even the profits from an uneasy liaison with the mysterious Mr. Brown could keep him afloat much longer. The aunts wouldn't remain silent either about his virtual incarceration of them or Tess's disappearance.... If ruin was to be averted, he had to act quickly.
Finding Tess seemed to be the key to his problem. Once he had her in his possession all his other problems would disappear. To that end, he had sent Lowell that very morning to make discreet inquiries about her along the probable route she would have taken to London. Perhaps they would discover some word of her; there could have been some sort of accident and she was lying hurt in some farmer's house, afraid to admit her identity in case he came looking for her.... Avery smiled without humor. And Tess knew that he
would
come looking for her.
Not only had Avery sent Lowell to look for Tess, but he'd had Coleman make a careful reconnoiter of Sherbourne Court. Coleman had nothing to report from his limited surveillance of the area, and a conversation that same evening with a footman from the court, after Coleman had plied him with liquor, had not elicited anything new. Considering the hostility between the two families, Avery hadn't expected the aunts to be there, but, dammit, they had to be somewhere nearby! Where? And why hadn't he heard from either the Rockwells or Nick himself? Presumably the aunts had told their pitiful tale by now, so why wasn't his home being assaulted by some outraged men?
His mouth twitched. Could it be that the greatly feared specter of disgrace and social ruin was going to save him? If Tess hadn't been with the aunts, and he knew she hadn't been ... And if she also hadn't been with her uncles, of which he was fairly certain, then where was she? By now her relatives had no doubt discovered those unpleasant facts themselves and were, even as he sat here drinking, scrambling around frantically trying to discover Tess's whereabouts or trying to come up with a way to avert a full-blown scandal. Smiling nastily, he raised a silent toast to the rigid social strictures of the day and shortly thereafter went to bed, feeling certain that fate was going to throw him a lucky card after all.
 
It wasn't often that Nick thought about luck or fate, but that Tuesday evening in October of 1811 when Tess Mandeville became his bride, he could only marvel at the luck or fate that had brought him to the Black Pig a scant week ago. If Maryanne Halliwell hadn't murmured her agreeability to a closer alliance with him that night at Lady Grover's ball, he wouldn't have been riding pell-mell in a driving rainstorm toward Sherbourne Court and wouldn't have given the shabby little inn a second glance. Staring down into the face of his bride of less than a half hour, Nick was suddenly very thankful to Lady Halliwell—and whatever other forces may have brought him to the Black Pig that night.
He cast a glance over at his grandmother where she was talking quietly with Meg and Hetty. She seemed to be bearing up well, he decided. She had been gracious, if a bit stiff, when Tess and the aunts had been presented to her earlier, but her innate kindness had shone through. Watching her as she struggled to suppress the painful emotions he knew were churning within her, Nick had been aware of a great rush of deep affection. She was a grand lady.
The wedding had gone off splendidly. A small salon at the rear of the house had been filled with late-blooming flowers, and under the bemused gaze of their assembled relatives, Nick and Tess had been married by the local vicar. If the bride seemed a bit pale and reluctant in her responses, no one paid it any heed; and if the vicar privately thought that there was more an air of relief when the vows were finally said than of delight, he wisely kept the observation to himself.
Light refreshments were served following the wedding in his grandmother's favorite blue salon, the portrait of his grandfather dominating the room. The uncles beamed proudly, and Hetty and Meg smiled approvingly at the newly married pair. Lady Sherbourne still held herself slightly aloof, but there was an expression in the blue eyes that brooded well for the future.
There had not been time for much conversation between Pallas and Tess before the wedding, but as they stood together by one of the tables, Nick observed them carefully. They made polite conversation, each one picking her words with care. From the moment of their first meeting, Pallas had hardly been able to tear her gaze away from Tess's lovely young face. Feeling more relaxed now that she had met her grandson's bride and had seen for herself that Tess was not the scheming, manipulative termagant she had feared, Pallas was finally able to say what had been uppermost in her mind since she had first caught sight of the girl. Squarely meeting Tess's deeply hued violet eyes, she said abruptly, “You look very much like your great-grandmother, don't you?”
Tess nodded gravely, aware of the pain this frail, gentle-looking woman had suffered because of Theresa. “Yes. I've been told that there is a striking resemblance between us—there is a portrait of her in the gallery at Mandeville that leaves little doubt.” She gave a small grimace. “We could almost be twins.”
Pallas nodded her silvery head. “Yes, you could.” She stared very hard at Tess for a minute longer, assessing the honesty and character she saw in Tess's face. Then, as if making up her mind about something, she patted Tess's hand and murmured almost to herself, “But you'll do. You'll do very nicely indeed, I think.” She turned away and set about making her guests at ease.
Tess hadn't known what to think about her comments, but she was conscious of a little knot of apprehension easing in her chest. Meeting Lady Sherbourne had been just one of many dreaded hurdles she'd had to clear these past few days, and she was surprised at how much the acceptance of Nicolas's grandmother had meant to her. She bit her lip. None of it should have mattered, but she was grateful for Lady Sherbourne's easy manner with her.
She glanced up at Nick's dark face, and at the look of possessive desire glittering in his black eyes, her heart leaped. It was insane to feel even a flicker of happiness about their marriage, but, God help her, she did. Her lips curved ruefully. She was happy in an odd sort of way, and she couldn't explain the feeling of rightness, the powerful sensation of being where she belonged . . . of having come safely home after a long, perilous journey. It was a queer feeling—especially since she had been telling herself stoutly that she was adamantly opposed to the idea of being married to Nicolas Talmage from the moment it had first been brought forth.
Tess sighed, realizing that she shouldn't be surprised at her changeable emotions—in spite of everything, she
did
love Nicolas, and while he might not love her, he had proven to be an honorable and considerate man. He was also, she admitted candidly, inordinately handsome and, according to her uncles, extremely wealthy and generous—the settlements Nicolas had proposed had gratified Rockwell immensely. Nick was also kind; she could see that in the way he treated his grandmother. Few women would have found fault with a man like her very new husband.

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