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Authors: Helen Dickson

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BOOK: Mishap Marriage
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‘He was...surprised.’

‘I suspect that’s an understatement. I expect he was surprised when you turned up at the ball without letting him know you were in London.’

It was an enquiry, Shona knew—phrased tactfully, but still a request for an explanation. ‘Yes, he was,’ she replied, meeting her aunt’s eyes directly. And when the older woman remained silent, patiently waiting for her to reveal all, she told her the rest of the story, about his shock when she told him they were legally wed and that she wanted to have the marriage annulled.

‘And is that what you want? To end the marriage?’

Shona lowered her eyes in confusion. ‘Well, yes— No— I mean— Oh, I don’t know, Aunt Augusta. I don’t think I know what I want any more.’

Augusta relaxed visibly, sipping her wine appreciatively. ‘There you are, then. That’s all right. I wouldn’t worry about how your marriage began.’ Into Augusta’s worldly eyes came a look of spontaneous sympathy and softness, followed by an understanding, rueful smile. ‘My, my! It is all quite shocking, but you did right to return to the ball.’

‘Yes, even though Zack will be furious.’

‘What? More than he is already? You must continue to enjoy yourself,’ Augusta said, her voice full of determination. ‘You will be at your most charming and alluring. You will smile and laugh—but not too much. Make him a little jealous. Follow your instincts and you can’t go wrong. You’ll find he will be consumed with anger, but he will be unable to resist you. You’ll see.’

Shona was not convinced. Her aunt had enormous influence and shamelessly loved forcing society to bend to her will, but Zack—with all the iron forces of his nature gathered together against her aunt’s assault—would be quite another matter.

‘Aunt Augusta, are you suggesting that I seduce my husband?’ she asked with an amused tilt to her lips.

‘And why not? After a short rest and a restorative glass of wine, you will feel at your best to cope with anything.’ She smiled. ‘It will be vastly amusing to see what his reaction will be when he sees you have defied him and returned to the ball to enjoy yourself.’

* * *

On the point of leaving the ball, Zack was waylaid by Sir Humphrey Seton, who was a friend of long standing. With people milling around them, for several minutes they engaged in social chit-chat, casually discussing the politics of the day and friends and acquaintances known to them both.

Suddenly distracted, Humphrey exclaimed, ‘My God! Who is that simply gorgeous creature dancing with Lord Barrington? She can’t be real.’

Zack raised his eyes and glanced at the dancers whirling by. Absently his eyes sought out Barrington—a notorious society rake—and the lady in his arms. Recognition hit him like a thunderbolt. He became frozen, staring in stunned silence, all his earlier tender thoughts vanishing like a morning mist. It was as if all the breath had been knocked out of him. Anger, uncurling from his stomach, surged through him. On discovering that as soon as his back was turned, Shona had flagrantly disobeyed him, for the first time in his life Zack experienced an acute feeling of jealousy, which caught him completely off guard. It was a feeling he found decidedly unpleasant.

Before he’d had time to think of the consequences, his next words sealed his public fate. ‘That gorgeous creature, as you so aptly put it, Humphrey, is my wife,’ he said through gritted teeth, his eyes burning across at her with fire that scorched her raw as she caught his gaze. ‘And I can confirm that she is perfectly real. What the hell is she playing at?’

Zack’s eyes remained fixed on Shona, whose whole presence seemed to blaze across the distance at him, eliminating all else. The dancers between them became like a multicoloured blur of moving bodies, but they could have been alone, facing each other across a dangerous, unbridgeable chasm. The loveliness of her smiling face was flushed with dancing and the champagne she had drunk between dances, and when she moved her slender, though softly rounded, form floated with a fluidity and grace over the floor in a swirl of elegance. He kept his eyes fixed on her, unable to believe she had returned to the ball without either his knowledge or his permission. How dared she defy him? How dared she force his hand in this manner?

When the music ceased and she left the floor on the arm of her partner, with her face partly screened by her fan and the mask, she seemed to be absorbed in what was taking place around her as she purposely avoided looking his way. He watched, growing angrier by the minute, as Barrington escorted her to a lady he presumed was Lady Franklyn. One by one gentlemen approached them with no other purpose than to be introduced to Shona, bending over her hand for far too long, he thought.

What the devil did she think she was up to, a flirtatious smile on her lips and a twinkle in her astonishing green eyes for anyone who looked at her, laughing and sighing with a demure playfulness, and inviting lingering, lascivious looks and indecent thoughts? He could see that none of the raffish young men were immune to her sparkling personality, for her beauty, coupled with the mischief in her eyes, was irresistible. He was struck afresh by jealousy—an emotion he did not handle at all well, but the frequent glances his young wife was receiving from the dozen or so other gentlemen gave him the urge to put his fists to good use.

‘Excuse me, Humphrey,’ Zack said, clenching his hands. ‘It would appear that I am the only man here tonight who hasn’t danced with my wife.’

 

Chapter Eight

A
ugusta, who was enjoying the enthusiastic attention she and Shona received, was in good spirits and full of smiles as she observed a hard-faced man she assumed must be Shona’s husband bearing down on them. Ushering the gentleman who was bent over Shona’s hand unceremoniously away, she cast her niece a sharp look.

‘Chin up, my dear...’ she smiled, waving her fan languidly ‘...and smile. Remember what I told you. Flirt just a little and be charm and graciousness personified. Mark my words—you’ll have your husband eating out of your hand before the night is over. If the reception so far is anything to go by, you have already caused something of a stir.’

Shona took a deep breath. Now the moment had come when, for the second time that night, she must come face-to-face with her husband, she was afraid. Accompanied by another gentleman, he stepped in front of her and she was acutely conscious that his eyes were glued to her face as he introduced himself to her aunt, his manner cool yet polite.

‘Why, I am honoured to meet you at last,’ Augusta said, greeting him with a cheerful heartiness. ‘Shona thought you might be here tonight. She was reluctant to come, but it seemed such a pity to leave her all alone when she could be here enjoying herself.’

‘How considerate of you, Lady Franklyn—and how nice of Shona to honour us with her company,’ Zack said, his voice and his eyes like ice as he looked at his wife.

The hard expression on his handsome face caused Shona an involuntary shiver, which was not one of pleasure, but, remembering the part she was playing, she smiled sweetly. Zack introduced Sir Humphrey Seton.

‘I am pleased to make your acquaintance, sir,’ she murmured, and, stirred by some feminine impulse of coquetry—and an urge to annoy her husband—she favoured Sir Humphrey with her most brilliant smile.

‘It’s a pleasure, Lady Harcourt. I had no idea Zack had a wife, let alone such a beautiful one.’ He stepped back and looked at Zack. ‘You should bring your wife to London more often, Zack. Her presence would enhance any event.’

‘Yes,’ he said stiffly. ‘Maybe you’re right, Humphrey.’ As the orchestra began playing a waltz, he held his hand out to his wife. ‘Come, Shona. Let us dance.’

Leading her on to the floor he captured her waist and whirled her into the waltz. Only then did he look down at her.

‘What the hell are you doing here?’ he demanded, keeping his voice low so as not to be overheard by others in close proximity.

Beneath his icy calm, such was the force of his fury that Shona flinched, but, catching her aunt’s sharp eyes, she took a deep breath and gave her husband a wide-eyed look of innocence.

‘Why, the same as everyone else, I suppose. When I left you I suddenly realised I wasn’t in the least tired, so I returned to enjoy what is left of the ball.’

‘Are you out to incur my anger? Is that it?’

‘What? More than I have already, you mean?’

‘Don’t be flippant,’ he ground out, his face so close to Shona’s that she could see the ice-cold satanic glitter in his silver-grey eyes. ‘I told you that your behaviour must be beyond reproach. Yet within no time at all here you are. Not content with attending the ball alone and making yourself conspicuous, you have to make me appear ludicrous by flirting with every man present?’ His eyes held hers, full of accusation. ‘Well? What have you to say for yourself?’

With an effort Shona retained her composure as they moved over the dance floor, aswirl with couples moving gracefully to music, lovely and melodic.

‘Nothing. When you’re in this mood, whatever I say in my defence will be futile. For a start I wasn’t flirting. I was merely being polite. Besides, I could hardly wait for my husband to escort me to a ball since we are estranged. What would you have me do? Go slinking around as if I’ve disgraced myself? We may be seeking an annulment, but that doesn’t mean I have to make an outcast of myself. I am sorry if you’re not pleased to see me, Zack, but it’s too late to do anything about it now.’ She spoke firmly, quietly, her eyes unwavering as she met his gaze. She refused to be drawn and, holding her head up, smiled engagingly. How she would like to give his handsome, angry face a resounding slap and cut his conceit, his arrogance down to size, but instead she forced her face to remain calm. ‘I am your wife and will be your equal—not your chattel to be told what I will and will not do.’

‘Will you not? We shall see about that.’

‘If you insist on being disagreeable for what is left of the ball, I suggest you return to your friends. Perhaps they will tolerate your dour mood better than I,’ she said, trying hard not to make eye contact with the brown-haired woman who was watching their every move from the edge of the dance floor. Lady Donnington had positioned herself so that she was in the direct line of vision. Shona caught something indefinable in her eyes. For a moment she couldn’t think what it meant, and then she recognised it. It was the assessment of one woman for another.

‘By introducing me as your wife to your friend, I can only assume you do not wish our marriage to remain a secret. You do realise that people will expect to see us together—will expect us to live together. How will you explain it?’

Struck afresh by her loveliness, it was easy for Zack to forget he hadn’t wanted to marry her. What was difficult was controlling his physical reaction to her nearness.
An exercise in fortitude,
he thought grimly. His body was achingly aware of her. ‘I don’t have to explain anything to anyone,’ he replied, studying her beneath half-lowered lids with tranquil amusement, torn between torment and tenderness. ‘May I ask what your admirers talked to you about?’

‘You may, but I will not tell you.’

‘Do I have reason to call any of them out?’

Shona found herself smiling, her eyes glowing with repressed laughter. ‘Several. But with so many, you would be hard-pressed to beat them all.’

‘Don’t count on it,’ Zack replied, spinning her round with unnecessary force.

She laughed. ‘Zack, please slow down. You swirl me round so fast I’m beginning to feel quite dizzy.’

‘Perhaps you’ve drunk too many glasses of champagne.’

She was indignant. ‘No, I have not.’

‘Yes, you have—three—or was it four?’

His smile was amused and slightly mocking, which annoyed her. ‘You were watching me?’

He nodded. ‘I had nothing better to do.’

Gazing down at her sublimely flushed upturned face, he wondered how he could have imagined for one moment that he could live without her—that he could purge her from his heart and mind. Every time he looked at her the breath caught in his throat. He cursed himself for letting her affect him this way. She played havoc with his insides, a sensation not normal for him, a man who had always enjoyed a woman casually, on a whim, made love to her for his pleasure. Now this girl from Santamaria needed to be taught a lesson and he could hardly keep his hands off her. He couldn’t believe that his passionate encounters with Shona had left him throbbing for her like a green youth. Yet now, holding her in his arms, there was little he could do to control either the lust throbbing through his veins or the disquietingly tender feelings that were prodding at his heart.

Where was his logic, his easy self-control? Had it all flown away when he had entered into what he believed was a bogus marriage, when he had sworn not to treat her as his wife, firmly subduing his carnal desire? Suddenly she had become the one thing he must have. But he had desired her all along, even when he thought he would never see her again. What in hell’s name was the matter with him? The fact was undeniable. He wanted to make love to her. He wanted to take her immediately. He did not want to keep himself in restraint another moment. How long could he endure having her near without throwing her down and satisfying himself with her?

Now the anger and surprise of her reappearance in his life and her pronouncement had diminished somewhat and he could think more rationally, he reconsidered her request for an annulment. Despite everything that had transpired between them and unable to lie to himself, he realised he didn’t want an annulment and he would be damned if he would give her one. It mattered to him what happened to this beautiful, intelligent, foolish young wife of his. For the first time in his life he had found a woman who was rare and unspoiled, a woman who had succeeded in touching his heart, which was something all the other women had failed to do. He had no intention of letting her go and this had nothing to do with his battle to gain custody of his daughter.

‘What are you thinking?’ Shona asked, amazed at how relaxed she felt in his arms.

‘About your request for an annulment to our marriage.’

‘And what have you decided?’

‘There will be no annulment, Shona.’

Shona’s eyes widened in amazement. ‘But—I don’t understand. What are you saying?’

He smiled down at her, his gaze dropping to the tantalising creamy swell of her breasts exposed above the bodice of her gown, a sight in which he took a lustful delight.

‘You heard me. I don’t want a divorce—an annulment, call it what you like. I have no intention of letting you out of my sight ever again.’

Shona stared at him, reeling from his incredible words. ‘And if I don’t want to be your wife?’ she said fiercely.

‘But you
are
my wife, Shona.’

‘I am also a free spirit with an independent will and I wish to leave you.’

‘No, you don’t.
You
asked
me
to marry you. Have you considered the consequences of a divorce?’

‘The consequences for whom?’

‘You. It will certainly be unpleasant.’

‘I would imagine divorce is always unpleasant.’

‘It is. You will become notorious in a way you do not deserve. What would you hope to gain?’

‘My freedom.’

His eyes probed hers. ‘And do you want to be free, Shona? Of me?’

Shona searched his face, feeling her heart turn over exactly the way it always did when he looked at her like he was looking at her now. She saw the glow in his half-shuttered eyes kindle slowly into flame. Deep within her, she felt the answering stirrings of longing, a longing to feel the tormenting sweetness of his caress, the stormy passion of his kiss.

But she could not forget the terrible things he had accused her of—of the kind of person he still believed she was. How could a happy relationship be built on such rocky foundations?

The question remained unanswered when the dance ended. Zack led her off the dance floor. His anger was roused once more when other men flocked around her and did not abate as the night wore on. It was no easy matter for Shona to ignore his penetrating, enquiring gaze fixed on her, but she continued to smile more vividly, and to tease and laugh with the gentlemen who came to be introduced with what Zack considered to be infuriating persistence.

Shona smiled sweetly at him when she saw his dark scowl after yet another young rake went on his way on being confronted by Zack’s black look of thunder.

‘Must you look so put out, Zack?’ she reproached. ‘It should flatter your vanity having your friends envy you your wife.’

‘It gives me no satisfaction to see other men coveting my wife.’

They danced together once more. Shona knew Zack was finding it difficult coming to terms with the fact that she was truly his wife. She also knew when he left her side and he and Lady Donnington each left the room via separate doors out on to the terrace. She had seen the subtle look the woman passed to him across the ballroom and the imperceptible nod he gave her in reply.

Suddenly the noise, the colour, the movement and cheerful laughter swirled all about her and she had the feeling she was in the centre of a swiftly moving kaleidoscope. It was all too much. She wanted to get away as soon as possible, to be quiet, secluded, in a space somewhere with no one in it, in which to recover her composure.

Unaware that Shona had observed anything untoward between her husband and Lady Donnington, taking note of her niece’s pallor, Augusta moved to her side. ‘Are you all right, Shona?’

She flashed her a brilliant smile from behind her fan, lifting her head to a queenly angle. ‘Of course. Why ever should I not be? But I am rather tired and I have the beginnings of a headache, so if you don’t mind I think I’ll go home. Zack has gone off with one of his...his friends. If he should come looking for me, please don’t tell him I’ve left just yet. I need some time on my own and the last thing I want is an irate husband arriving on the doorstep at this late hour.’

Augusta looked at her with genuine concern. ‘Very well, but I’ll come with you.’

‘No, I won’t hear of it. Please stay. See—Lady Smythe is beckoning to you. I’ll be perfectly all right.’

‘Well—if you’re sure.’

‘Absolutely.’

Without glancing at the terrace doors, through which Zack emerged at that moment alone, Shona hurried away.

Augusta stood for a moment and watched Zack glance around the ballroom in search of his wife. She had watched the changing expressions move across his fiercely handsome face all evening—from fury to the violent jealousy a man felt when the woman he loved was being coveted by others. From the moment Shona had returned to the ball he had clung to her side and watched her with all the substance of his being, his concentration glued to the slim and elegant figure by his side.

Augusta was certain that no matter what had prompted Shona to slip away from the ball while her husband was otherwise occupied, she was in for an exciting time over the following days. Suddenly, feeling very old, she sighed, envying Shona more than she would ever know her youth, her beauty and, she thought with irritation when she looked at an elderly gentleman looking at her expectantly—a rather gross, unappealing man and already showing signs of running to seed—her husband.

* * *

The house was quiet when Shona arrived with only a footman on duty to open the door. Thomas was on his way to bed when she entered the hall. Contemplating her downcast face, he tried not to show his concern.

‘Ah, Shona. You’re early. I didn’t expect to see you back until the early hours. Mother not with you?’

BOOK: Mishap Marriage
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