Salt Bride (36 page)

“The tea has helped, thank you,” Sir Antony said gratefully, balancing the delicate porcelain dish and saucer on his silken knee.

Feeling more himself, he noticed Jane for the first time. His unshaven cheeks burned hot and his mouth went dry finding her sitting before the looking glass in a flimsy silk dressing gown with her thick, raven-black hair tumbled to her waist; a delectably arousing sight normally reserved for a husband’s eyes only. He put his thudding head in his hand and felt an even greater fool. He would never be offered another diplomatic posting, least of all rise to ambassadorial rank, if he didn’t pull himself together, mentally, as well as physically.

But he wouldn’t even get a Channel crossing if he didn’t make it through the day without Salt discovering him in the Countess’s dressing room. He shouldn’t have invited himself in, but he felt he had to see her. Hers was the voice of calm reason and he needed calmness and reason in his life at that very moment. He certainly couldn’t speak to Salt about his sister Caroline’s shock announcement that she was engaged to be married. He knew Jane would understand. Yet, when Jane made a light remark about the Lady Caroline he forgot he was on the brink of being called out by the Earl for matrimonial trespass and ground his teeth.

“I was introduced to Lady Caroline earlier this morning,” Jane announced casually, brushing her hair forward over one shoulder in preparation for braiding. “You were quite right. I liked her on sight. She’s full of life and, it would seem, surprises.”

“Surprises be damned!” Sir Antony growled. “She has the nerve to send round a note to the Richmond turnout telling me she’s in London and to come at once, which I did. Throws herself in my arms telling me how much she’s missed me, then announces in the next breath that Captain Bossy Boots Beresford has asked her to marry him!”

“And you took the news badly?”

“Of course I took the news badly!”

“And you permitted Caroline to see that you took the news badly?”

“I told her precisely what I thought of such an intemperate match—”

“She would have enjoyed that,” Jane murmured.

“—and what I thought of her so-called suitor.”

“Even better.”

“I ask you: The man has a limp, a war injury from the Hanover campaign, and struts about the county, if one can limp and strut at the same time, six years after he was pensioned off, still playing the war hero!” Sir Antony retorted, frustrated rage making him oblivious to Jane’s pointed remarks. “He has less than two thousand a year to live on, with only limited prospects of inheriting a very healthy aunt’s modest estate in Somerset, if and when she drops off the mortal coil, which won’t be any decade soon. Caroline is worth in excess of fifty thousand pounds, and lives in a Jacobean palace a Continental prince wouldn’t turn his nose up at. Whatever she asks for Salt provides. Her idea of economy is to buy only two-dozen pair of new silk stockings on any given day instead of three! Does that sound like a match made in heaven?”

Jane hid her smile and said calmly in mid-brush stroke, “But, as you said yourself, she does love dogs and horses and mucking about the farm. That would seem to suit Captain Beresford?”

“Of course it suits Beresford, but what he fails to understand is that once Caroline turns eighteen and is launched into her first Season, dogs, and horses and farm muck don’t stand a chance!”

“But if they are in love…”

Sir Antony was instantly on his feet. The empty dish and its saucer balanced precariously on his silken knee crashed to the floorboards and smashed unnoticed. Viscount Fourpaws sprang from the comfort and warmth of Jane’s lap and beat a retreat into the next room to take refuge amongst the bank of feather pillows on the big four poster bed; his usual resting place.

“In love? She isn’t in love with him!”

“No, she isn’t in love with him,” Jane agreed.

Sir Antony’s anger burst like a soap bubble. Totally deflated, he sat down, blinking. “She isn’t?”

Jane wondered at the workings of the male mind. She did not have to wonder about Caroline’s thought processes. She reasoned the girl was young after all, and if anything like Jane’s stepmother, the only other female Allenby of Jane’s acquaintance, then she would have woken up this morning very proud of herself for the damage she had wrought the night before. She had gained her objectives. She had discovered the true nature of Sir Antony’s feelings for her and the Earl had flatly refused her engagement to Captain Beresford. Jane did not doubt the existence of the good Captain, or the fact that he might have designs on marrying an heiress, he may even have feelings for Caroline, but she doubted very much if he had asked her to marry him. And if he had, then he truly was a fortune hunter and Salt would deal with him very swiftly.

“How do you know she isn’t in love with Beresford?” Sir Antony asked in wonderment. “You only met for the first time last night.” When Jane smiled and continued brushing her hair, he perched forward on the chaise longue and said hopefully, “She confided in you. She’s had second thoughts about the Captain.”

“No. As you said, I only met her for the first time last evening. Naturally, Salt was furious and told her in no uncertain terms that he would not countenance a union with the Captain. Caroline took this in her stride and wasn’t to be dissuaded.”

“As only she would! But if she isn’t in love with Beresford, why is she putting me through this-this
torture
?”

So much for Sir Antony calmly telling her he would wait until Caroline had had her Season before declaring himself. Jane smiled to herself. Poor Tony, he had best take himself off to St. Petersburg, or ask Caroline to marry him immediately, or develop an armor-plated sensibility to see him through Caroline’s flirtatious Season amongst the young bloods and fortune hunters who would court her. She would surely flaunt each and every one of her suitors in his face, all to get his reaction. And if he did react then woe betide him ever gaining the upper hand in that union.

“She is trying to force your hand, Tony,” Jane said simply. “And by informing Salt of the Captain’s intentions, she is ensuring that when you do get up the courage to ask Salt he will be heartily relieved that his sister is to have a husband that is acceptable to him, and not a social pariah. Of course, if Caroline was truly in love with the Captain I don’t think Salt would be too concerned about the man’s measly two thousand a year. Being generous and devoted to Caroline, he would provide them with a house and sundry other comforts that Caroline cannot live without, if she was to marry a war hero of modest income.”

Sir Antony wasn’t so certain but he lost his mulish look. “You think?”

“I think,” Jane said brightly. She turned away from the looking glass to face him. “Unfortunately, your angry reaction to her news means you’ve played into her hands.”

“Scheming baggage!” Sir Antony grumbled good-naturedly. “I should’ve had my eyes open! But I was so happy to see her after all these months that it never occurred to me she would ill-use me in that way.” He grinned and shook his head. “Thinking about it, she’s had months to plan her campaign, hasn’t she? I suppose I ought to be flattered.”

Jane laughed behind her hand. “Very flattered. And the situation is not unsalvageable. To my mind, you can do one of two things: If you are set on marrying Caroline, immediately declare yourself and hope that Salt will acquiesce, given Caroline hasn’t had her Season; or, if you are still uncertain about making a commitment until she’s had her Season, to satisfy yourself that she knows in her own mind that it is with you she wishes to spend the rest of her life, then you must coolly accept her plans to marry the Captain.”

Sir Antony pouted. “Must I?”

“Why, of course! On no account must you allow her to see that the Captain bothers you. My guess is, she will keep up the pretence of being in love with the Captain for as long as it takes for you to declare yourself, and if you do not break to her will, she’ll give some excuse why the Captain proved unsuitable and move on to another wholly unacceptable marriage proposal. All to wear you thin.”

Sir Antony rubbed his unshaven chin and smiled ruefully. “I’m feeling rather thin now…”

“You may have to accept a posting to Stockholm to distance yourself from her teasing,” Jane ended with an encouraging smile, Sir Antony looking as ill as she felt when she’d woken up. “Of course, if you do decide to run off to the Continent, you will have Salt on your conscience. The poor man will be left alone to deal with Caroline’s hordes of admirers.”

“Oh, I shan’t feel guilty. Why should I when he has you? You’ll provide him with all the support he needs to get him through the whole unpleasant business of launching Caroline on an unsuspecting society.”

Jane turned away, a blush to her cheeks, and searched for a silk ribbon amongst the clutter on her dressing table. Unable to find one, she fiddled unnecessarily with several jars, saying hesitantly, “He… He may have to cope without me… I-I may be indisposed…”

“Egad! I’m an unthinking ass,” Sir Antony responded and dropped to his silken knees beside the dressing table at her feet. “Of course! The baby! Your confinement will be around the time the Season begins, won’t it? Diana told me,” he confessed when Jane’s blue eyes widened in surprise. “I have no idea how she found out, but she knows, and now so do I.” He smiled ruefully. “It’s not my place to ask, and you don’t have to answer me, but why, my dear, haven’t you shared this momentous news with Salt? He’ll be beside himself with joy to know he is to be a father.”

Jane gazed at her hands clasped in her lap. “He doesn’t believe in miracles.”

“Miracles?”

“You may recall that ten years ago Salt had a rather nasty riding accident that left him bedridden and in a great deal of pain. The bruises and severe swelling to his—to a particular part of his—”

“I remember,” Sir Antony cut in to save her any further embarrassment. “In fact, my eyes are watering in sympathy. Any man’s would.”

Jane nodded, grateful for his interruption and continued.

“You may also recall that the physicians who attended on him at that time advised that as a consequence of the-the injuries sustained, it was unlikely he would father a child.”

“Did they? Bunch of charlatans! What would they know?” Sir Antony replied with an encouraging smile. “Well, obviously not much because they’ve been proved wrong. If I was Salt I’d have the wholly jolly lot of ’em struck off the medical register for being quacks and frauds. He could do it too, y’know.”

This did force a laugh from her. “You make it sound so simple.”

Impulsively, Sir Antony caught at one of her hands. “It is simple,” he said gently. “When two people are deeply in love, miracles can and do happen. And if he doesn’t believe that,” he added in a rallying tone, and at Jane’s watery smile kissed her hand, “then he doesn’t deserve you! He must have gruel for brains!”

“Or no brain at all,” drawled the Earl.

Jane snatched back her hand and shot up off the dressing stool, mortified. It was the way her husband was regarding her with a steady, unblinking gaze, a gaze that shifted momentarily to Sir Antony, who had over-balanced with shock and fallen back against the chaise longue, an arm stuck out to grope the silk cushions to keep himself upright.

Jane wondered how long Salt had been leaning in the doorway and guessed he had just walked in on Sir Antony’s final undiplomatic pronouncement by his readily given quip. He had come from his apartments, having bathed, shaved and changed into a Chinoiserie frockcoat that matched the magnificence of his Richmond Ball dress. For all his outward appearance of the noble courtier, there was a dullness to his brown eyes as they continued to regard Jane steadily, and his gaunt, tired expression suggested that what he needed was not another day of political machinations but a good night’s unbroken sleep.

Jane finally stepped forward, worry about Ron outweighing any feelings of embarrassment she had at being caught in dishabille in her dressing room with her husband’s best friend. “How is Ron? Were you able to settle him?”

“Salt!” Sir Antony suddenly blurted out in the silence.

“Do get up, Tony,” the Earl responded flatly, coming further into the room as Sir Antony scrambled to his feet and set his wig to rights then stood to attention like a naughty schoolboy. He addressed his wife. “Ron was sleeping peacefully when I left him tucked up in bed just a little after sunrise. I promised that if he is very much better this afternoon, he and Merry can stay the night in the nursery. They are both looking forward to seeing Caro.”

“What? Ron was ill
again
?” Sir Antony blurted out. “Egad! That’s two nights in a row! No wonder you look fagged to death.” He glanced from Salt to Jane and back again, all embarrassment at being caught trespassing in the most private of the Countess’s rooms extinguished with his concern for his nephew. “Salt, you really must put a stop to Diana’s nonsense, or I will. If you don’t believe what I told you in the carriage about your happiness and—”

“I believe you.”

“—Diana’s petty jealous anger and Ron’s illness—Oh! You do?”

“Yes. I merely had to have the blindfold removed to see what’s been going on, for which I thank you… and my wife.”

Jane touched the Earl’s embroidered upturned cuff. “You have taken the matter in hand?”

“Yes,” he responded but said no more because he was not to be diverted from his displeasure at Sir Antony’s trespass. His gaze flickered from his wife’s state of undress to the broken dish and saucer by the chaise longue and then fixed on his best friend. That he chose to deliver Sir Antony a short, sharp dressing down in the French tongue signaled to Jane that he was not only furious but had no wish to sully her ears with his derogatory vitriol. The contrition on Sir Antony’s face confirmed her suspicions.

“You have the damned
idiocy
, no, ill-mannered
selfishness
, to invade these private rooms unshaven and still in your ball costume and I am no longer left wondering why the latest
filth
circulating drawing rooms has it that you are
tupping
my wife?”