Taste of Desire (7 page)

“When should I plan the wedding breakfast?
” Lady Smythe-Burke’s words called her back to the present. “Next Tuesday would be most convenient. Let me know if you have any trouble with the license. My nephew, Westlake, arrives in town shortly, as undoubtedly you are already aware, and I will prevail upon him to take care of the matter if there are difficulties. Not that I expect there to be. I’ve yet to hear you’ve failed at a task, Wimberley.”

Lady Smythe-Burke finally stopped her dissertation
and turned to face Tristan, hands placed on her narrow hips. Marguerite didn’t know how he held up under that stiff stare; she was sure she would have melted into the carpeting. Perhaps, not a bad thing under the circumstances.

“I don’t know where you picked up that characteristic
. Your father certainly was not known for his persuasive powers,” Lady Smythe-Burke began again. “Your mother can show some claws – but she lacks your grace. I will have to consider this carefully.”

“
You are not to speak ill of my father.” There was an edge of iron in Tristan’s tone that Marguerite had never heard before. His words usually left a trail of sugar behind that one could only follow. This was different.

“Oh, my dear man, of course not
. It is merely that you are more than either of your parents, and it bears some thought. It would be a wonder if society could learn to bring its children up in your mold, rather than the mollycoddled saps that I see in the park each morning.” She turned and raked her gaze over Marguerite. “And you, Miss? Do you think that you’re up to keeping Wimberley in line and assuring that he does right by his lineage? I would not have thought so, but then I would never have thought I’d be dragged from my bed under these circumstances. You may have more life in you than one would have expected.”

Marguerite dropped her glance back to her lap
. She knew she should say something, but what? She needed to protest that she could not marry Tristan, but after being found in his lair by the lady dragon, was there really any choice?

“
Ah,  , Wimberley, you may have found the treasure that all men search for, a beauty of few words.” Lady Smythe-Burke turned back to him. “Is there baggage? No, I suppose not, that would be much too ordinary for this situation. It’s just as well if that’s your idea of fashion, Miss Wilkes. We’ll definitely need to see to your clothes. Well, then come along, girl, let us return to my residence and retire. My bones are not as young as they used to be.” She strode towards the doorway, her stiff posture demanding obedience.

Marguerite rose to follow
. She found she didn’t have the strength to argue. Tomorrow, in the morning, she could attempt to dig her way out of this trench.

“Oh, and Wimberl
ey, we will expect your call at a proper hour tomorrow. I wish to know all the details of this foolishness. And don’t think there will be any more improprieties before the ceremony. It will be soon enough for you to be alone again after the wedding. Am I clear, Wimberley?”

“Yes.”

“And I can trust you? I do not take kindly to being made a fool. It causes me to feel my age, something that you would regret, I must assure you.”

“I do not doubt your words.
” Formality dripped from Tristan’s lips, as if he had stepped back from the conversation.

“Good
. Come along, Miss Wilkes. I have been delayed from my slumbers long enough.”

Marguerite said not a word
. As she trailed through the door, she marveled at fate. Not a single word, and her future was decided.

How could the days pass so quickly, and still leave her fastened in the same spot? Marguerite paced the ornate bed chamber, glaring at each sign of how far she had come from her own simple life. Tomorrow was her wedding day, and she still had not said
Yes
. She did not know whether to throw something or cry. Her life moved on as if her participation mattered not.

She would wake
with the morning sun or the tap of the maid and take a tray in her room. At least Lady Smythe-Burke believed a lady only needed tea and bread to start the day. Marguerite’s stomach could handle that much. Then it was time to dress in her one gown and attend Lady Smythe-Burke in the parlor. Marguerite had probably not said more than fifteen sentences in all, but apparently that was acceptable.

Then they ate a light repast – again thankfully only foods that passed her lips easily
. Afterwards she sat still and stiff, awaiting Tristan’s arrival.

That was the worst
– and yet the best.

“Greetings, Miss Wilkes
. And how does this day find you?”

“Well, my lord, and you?”

“Not a trouble to be found. The sun is bright for the season.”

“Yes, not a sign of rain or fog.”

“It was a glorious morning for a ride.”

“Indeed.”

Then silence.

She was marrying a man she’d seen fewer times than she had fingers, and she could barely finish a complete sentence
around him. No matter what her dreams, what tingles of anticipation she sometimes felt in his presence, he was a stranger. Whatever had made her turn to him in trust?

Marguerite sagged onto the edge of the bed, her hands resting lightly on her stomach
. She had sought freedom, the chance to determine her own future and this is what she’d received. She thought she’d learned from her mother’s lesson. How then could she have ended up here? On the morning she would be a wife, and soon enough a mother. It was all she had dreamed of on that night a year ago when she’d so eagerly followed Tristan into the garden. She should have been more careful of her prayers.

“You know I won’t be back after tomorrow.”

Tristan turned to face Violet as she reclined on the settee
. Even now she was careful of the picture she presented – russet curls falling over white watered silk that gave every appearance she was naked beneath her thin gown. No matter the chill Violet dressed for impression.

She’d suited him so perfectly, but now it must be finished.

“I am surprised you called tonight,” she said, her voice husky. “I thought your need already past.”

He walked to the settee and sat beside her, bringing her feet up to rest in his lap.

“You know I can never give you thanks for all you’ve done.”

“No thanks are necessary
. It was if anything a pleasure.”

“I do hope there is some truth in that
. I know there must have been a cost as well.”

She chuckled deep in her throat
. She reached over to the flowers arranged on a nearby table and plucked a single rose from a mass of deep-hued tulips. Crushing the petals so the scent mingled with waxy smell of the candle, she turned until her perfect features were inches from his own.

“Ah Tristan, you were always so good to me
. The best lover I never had. If I had not met Westlake first, when you were all just overgrown boys, it might have been so different for us.” She reached up and rubbed a petal along his cheek. “You have been a true friend despite your games. Do not worry about what our relationship has done to me. When I married the second man four times my age, my place in society was set. When I married a third well into his eighties, it was cast in stone. Then, upon his death, I had the effrontery to choose as a lover a man younger than myself. I don’t think anything you have done can set the tongues wagging faster. I will still retain a thin shield of respectability.”

“Don’t pretend it doesn’t cut
. Remember I know the truth.”

“Maybe – maybe not
. I rather fancy my public image is as real as yours. What I am is a woman who can sit here alone in her home with a man to whom she is not wed and has never dreamed of marrying. That is enough for the gossips and it is the truth. A truth I do not wish to change.”

“But, what they will say when it is known I have cast you off to marry another – a woman ten years your junior, even if I am not old enough to be her father, much less her grandfather?”

“Tris.” Violet brought her hand up and rubbed his cheek. He could feel the rasp of his whiskers along her soft palm. “I do not care about any of that. What matters is that you know what you are doing. Did I make an error in sending Lady Smythe-Burke? I should have thought further, but there are not many respectable enough to rescue the poor girl, who would admit me after dark, and it did seem the answer to your dilemma.

“Don’t worry
. The joke of the situation is that I had already asked her to wed. She actually had the impudence to refuse.”

“What – how?
”

She pulled her feet of
f his lap and pulled herself upright. He stood. It was so much easier to think when moving. “I asked her as soon as I understood the situation. You are right. She is suited to my needs precisely. I wondered briefly if I’d regret the words when spoken, but I did not repent them. In fact when Marguerite demurred I did my best to persuade her to my view.” He stopped and stared at the burning flame as he considered what else to add. Violet knew many of his secrets, but far from all. “I saw her. I needed her. I claimed her. It is that simple, but of course it is not simple at all.”

He resumed his pacing
. Violet’s head followed his movement.

“I do not understand.”

“It is true that Marguerite promises to be the key I needed. She is of the correct birth and demeanor to be accepted anywhere. And with Lady Smythe-Burke’s patronage she will even be welcomed. I should be most content with the situation. Even Lady Minerva Harburton and Lady Hawkins will extend her invitations.”

“I’
d heard that Lady Harburton had extended you a multitude of invitations on your own in the past.” Violet raised a delicate brow.

Tristan coughed
. “Yes, but I believe she was interested in activities other than tea. My refusals did not endear me to her.”

“No, I imagine not.
” Violet dropped the ruined petals on the table and rose to stand beside him. “A sweet young wife is another matter. Do you not worry that Lady Harburton may feel the need to spread a little poison?”

“No
. I will keep my wife well and she will have faith in me. I shall give her no reason to doubt.”

It was hard to miss the slight twist of Violet’s lips, but Tristan did his best
. He would treat Marguerite fairly and that would be enough.

“I am glad that your plans are running so smoothly.” Violet’s soft words belied the disquiet on her face. “The moment I realized Marguerite’s identity it was clear she could be an asset. I remembered that Lady Smythe-Burke had claimed some influence in her sister’s marriage and I was sure she would take an interest in Marguerite. If she has Lady Smythe-Burke as a champion no one will dare refuse her. Marguerite is perfect, the granddaughter of a viscount through her mother and an earl though her father. She exudes sweetness and innocence. She will be invited everywhere and you will trail at her side. She is almost too good to be true.”

“I must confess I’d never had the thought until Marguerite presented herself.
” Tristan smiled at Violet. “Then my mind ran parallel to yours. It will be simple to write the script that will explain all. The story will be that we met a year ago and have corresponded ever since. Now we can wait no longer. Our longing to be together is so great that she has run off to join me, fleeing her mother. It is a true love match.”

“
Ah,  , have you met her mother, though? She is not a pleasant character. It is hard to believe she caused her own scandal when still a girl. I believe she ran away to avoid marriage and became a governess. Then, she actually married a son of the household and regained respectability.”

Was that where Marguerite had gotten the idea
of running off? “I hadn’t heard that, but it doesn’t matter. It is long ago and forgotten. As you say, the mother married respectably in the end. Marguerite has not a flaw.”

Violet lay a hand on his shoulder
. “But what of when this particular game is over? Will your current associates welcome you back in their midst when you are done? Will they be so willing to share their secrets?”

“That is the true brilliance of my plan
. Marguerite is with child.”

“Well t
hen of course you must – but, no – it is not yours, is it?”

“No,
but it will provide the perfect excuse when this is over. My current friends will understand that I was forced to wed and then grew bored quickly. It will seem very natural when I seek relief from matrimony in their midst.”

“
You have thought of everything. But, what of her, your wife-to-be? You sound both cynical and callous in your plans.”

“
She will be well cared for. What more could she want than to be the wife of a marquis? She should have no complaint.” Tristan refused to consider that Marguerite still seemed less than delighted by his offer. She was simply being foolish. He imagined her lying spread across his bed, her hair bright against the pillows. He would enjoy persuading her of the sense of his plan.