The Baron's Betrayal (15 page)

As the last notes died away, she turned to Tristan. “If you will excuse me, I need to seek the ladies’ retiring room.” She reluctantly slid her hand from his and stood. “Once I return, do you wish to remain for a while and take refreshments?”

“I believe that is a good idea. Perhaps we can disabuse a few other gentlemen of the idea that my charming wife is ‘on the market.’”

Not sure if his words were said in jest or in truth, she merely touched him on his shoulder and headed upstairs.

Several other women had decided to avail themselves of the facilities during the respite. While Marion waited for her turn behind the screen that hid the necessary, she took the opportunity to study the ladies’ gowns. After hiding in her room for two years, and then most of her social engagements being at country assemblies, she was interested to see how Town fashion had changed.

When her sisters had flitted in and out of her room to say good night, and try to coax her to join them, she hadn’t really noticed what they had worn. Now that she was back in Society, and with her handsome husband at her side, perhaps it was time to visit the modiste and commission a few new gowns.

A sharp jolt brought her up when she realized any new gowns would not last very long as she continued to increase. Unconsciously, her hand covered her belly, a sense of warmth and excitement rushing through her.

She made her way behind the screen as the door to the room opened and two women entered.

“I swear I almost had a heart seizure when I saw him sitting right there, very much alive.” The high-pitched voice of one of the women stopped all conversation in the room.

“My daughter is a friend to one of the Lacey girls, and she told me Lord Tunstall had apparently survived his ordeal.” Another woman in the room spoke. “He had some type of amnesia for a while.”

“But, my dear, I understand the poor thing is
blind
!” the first woman said.

“Well my sympathies lie with his unfortunate wife.” The cutting remark was uttered in a very
unsympathetic
tone. “How horrible to be stuck with a blind man. In my opinion, it would have been better had he died.”

Dead silence followed frantic whispering as Marion took in deep gulps of air to calm herself. Apparently, one of the women had warned the speaker that
his unfortunate
wife
was in the same room with them.

She raised her chin and straightened her shoulders. They would not cow her into slinking away. Stepping out from the screen, she looked directly at Lady Cosgrove and Mrs. Smythe, the flush on their faces revealing them as the gossipers.

Mrs. Smythe opened her mouth to speak, but Marion brushed past them. They were not worth her time. She closed the latch on the door firmly and proceeded downstairs, to the “poor thing” who had risen from the dead and had brought joy and happiness back into her life.

After returning to the music room, she and Tristan remained for another hour. Some of the guests, much like Lord Boniface, were surprised to see Tristan, not having known about his return. All of them welcomed him warmly and offered their good wishes. The congeniality helped to soothe her after the experience in the retiring room.

A very tired Marion walked with Tristan up the stairs to their bedchambers. She’d found that early pregnancy fatigued her quite a bit. Perhaps she would remain abed in the morning so she wouldn’t be quite so weary by the end of the day.

Hand-in-hand they strolled the corridor until they stopped in front of Marion’s door. Tristan touched her lightly on the cheek, bent, and kissed her on the forehead. “Good night, my love.”

“Tristan—”

He held up his hand. “No, Marion. I am adamant.”

Hesitating briefly, she conceded with a sigh. “Very well.”

She entered the room, her thoughts in a whirl as Jane helped her out of her gown and into a nightgown.

While thrilled at how far they’d come since their initial meeting in the assembly a few months ago, they could not remain at this stalemate much longer. Each day her baby grew, and needed a father. And she needed a husband. Not just an escort to a musicale or a companion at the dinner table.

With a discontented thump on her pillow, she turned onto her stomach and closed her eyes.

Sometime later, she awoke from a fitful sleep to the sound of Tristan pounding on the punching bag. Frustrated, she bunched up the blankets and hugged them to her, wishing with all her heart it was his body.

Chapter Sixteen

Three days later, Marion knelt over the chamber pot and wrapped her arms around her middle. This baby was certainly making his or her presence known. Almost as if to urge her to confront its father with the tidy news.

She sat back on her heels, hopeful that the episode was finished for the day. A quick swish around her mouth with a cool drink of water restored her. She climbed to her feet, grabbing onto the dresser when a wave of dizziness swept over her. Wonderful. Now she would probably pass out on the floor, giving Jane another reason to suspect she was breeding.

The maid had not mentioned the lack of Marion’s courses, although she must have noticed it. She made her way over to the bed and sat, her gaze drifting to the window and the cloudy day.

Perhaps she could ask Tristan about returning to the country. If she were closer to her family, she would find support from them when the news of the baby became known.

She groaned and dropped her head into her hands. Just the thought of having to tell Tristan that the one thing he was adamant about had already happened filled her with dread. The old Tristan would have been thrilled, eager to share all the steps to parenthood with her. This new Tristan was like as not to send her back to her family.

Well, she was here, and here she would stay. Feeling a little better, she rang for Jane. It seemed once the nausea passed, she became ravenous. Another reason to return to Donridge Heath. It would be comforting to have her sisters and mother nearby to share stories of childbearing. Somehow it didn’t seem normal to be so sick one minute and then hungry the next.

Tristan had already broken his fast and was busy in his study with Landers, Carson had informed her. A little disappointed in not being able to share this bit of time with him, she took her seat and enjoyed a cup of tea while she studied the garden outside the dining room window.

As she watched the changing leaves heralding the encroaching autumn, she gave additional thought to asking Tristan to return to the country. Most of the
ton
were still ensconced in their country homes. Fall entertainments would have already started and, if they remained in London much longer, the inclement cold weather might keep them here for quite some time.

And best of all, she wouldn’t have to travel far when Tristan threw her out of the house when he learned her secret.

After sufficiently assuaging her hunger, Marion headed upstairs to practice once again roaming around her room while blindfolded. It continued to amaze her how difficult being blind was. Not that she ever thought it easy, but every tiny thing in one’s life was marked by the ability to see.

She tightened the scarf around her head and adjusted it over her eyes. Starting in the northeast corner of her room, she ventured forth, taking baby steps and swinging her arms to keep from hitting any furniture. Feeling more confident, she moved a bit faster.

“Ouch!” She leaned down to rub her shin and then banged her forehead on something much harder than her head. She whipped off the scarf to see a large dresser right in front of her in a completely different place than where she’d imagined.

“Marion?”

“Yes?” She hobbled over to the door and shoved the scarf behind her back. Well, that didn’t make any sense since Tristan couldn’t see it anyway.

“I heard you yelp. Did you hurt yourself?”

“No. I knocked my leg against the dresser.” She stepped back. “Did you wish to speak with me?”

“As a matter of fact, I do.”

“Please. Let’s move to the settee.”

Tristan entered the room, Argos padding alongside him. They settled on the sofa, the dog groaning a sigh of contentment as he flopped on the floor and rested his head on Tristan’s booted foot.

“I have had a missive from Manchester this morning.”

Her head jerked at this announcement. “Is all well?”

“Yes. He wishes to pay us a visit as he will be in Town for some business.”

“How lovely! Are Penelope and the baby traveling with them?”

“Yes. They are expected later in the afternoon tomorrow.”

There was no expression on Tristan’s face to indicate whether he welcomed the visit or dreaded it. Since he had now spent some time in Society, perhaps a visit from her brother and his family would go easier than it had weeks ago.

“Is it all right with you if they visit?”

“They are your family, Marion. They will always be welcomed.”

“Thank you.”

“There is no need to thank your husband for extending hospitality to your family.”

Tristan confused her so much. His stiff countenance and clipped words did not seem welcoming to her, but perhaps she was reading too much into it. He, no doubt, was still feeling his way with company.

But this was Drake, who had been a mere boy when the association with their families had begun. And Drake had offered as much condolence as he could when Tristan had arrived at their home brokenhearted after the loss of his family. Since her brother had been away at school for most of the time Tristan had lived with them before he joined the Royal Navy, their contact had been limited.

“Then I shall have Mrs. O’Rourke prepare a room for them, and see that the nursery is made ready.”

Tristan reached out and touched her cheek lightly. “Marion. I wish I could give you children, but please understand how strongly I feel about it.”

Had her voice changed when she mentioned the nursery? Unable to respond to his words, she nodded her head, swallowing the tears that threatened to fall.

…

The next afternoon Marion laid down her embroidery and tilted her head to the side at the sound of carriage wheels approaching the townhouse. “It appears our guests have arrived.”

She stood and shook out her skirts, then clasped Tristan’s hand. They strolled to the entrance just as Drake entered, holding the wiggling heir in his arms. Carson assisted Penelope in removing her pelisse.

A young girl stood behind them, obviously the latest in a string of nannies. “Your Grace, I shall be happy to see to the baby, if someone would be so kind as to show me to the nursery.”

“No need, Gertrude, I am sure Marion and Tristan would love to spend some time with our son. You may settle yourself in the nursery, and I will bring him up shortly.” Penelope took Robert from Drake, shifting the boy in her arms, making motherly sounds into the child’s neck.

A wave of joy washed over Marion. One day she would embrace her son or daughter in that manner. She would smell the wonderful baby smell and feel the soft baby skin. Unconsciously, she rested her palm on her stomach, a slight smile twitching her lips. Then, as if a cloud passed over the sun, she shivered as all the fear and worry about Tristan’s reaction to her news snuffed out her happiness.

Brushing aside her raging emotions, she drew her sister-in-law and nephew into a hug. “Welcome. I am so happy you have come for a visit.”

Tristan stepped forward and held out his hand, which Drake clasped. “Welcome to our home, Manchester.” He turned in Penelope’s direction and added, “And my lovely sister-in-law as well.”

“Why don’t you refresh yourselves from your journey, and I will have tea brought to the drawing room?” Marion said.

“A wonderful idea. Perhaps Cook can send some milk and a biscuit for Robert as well?”

Marion tried hard to fight the grin that Penelope’s request had prompted. It appeared Penelope had no desire to release her son into anyone else’s care quite yet. “Of course. I’m sure Cook has some treats she can share.”

Led by the maid, the family trudged up the stairs, Drake keeping a firm grip on his wife’s elbow. After watching them for a moment, Marion and Tristan returned to the drawing room.

“I sense your happiness at having your brother here,” Tristan said.

“Indeed. I am very happy to see them. And their baby is beautiful. He has Penelope’s lovely shade of green eyes.”

“Shall I ring for tea, or will you?”

Not surprised at his abrupt change of subject, she took in a deep breath. “I will ring.”

…

Tristan nodded and wandered over to the chair farthest from the fireplace. Argos came to stand in front of him and whined. “What is the matter, boy? It is not time for your walk. Are strangers in the house troubling you?”

He reached out and stroked the animal’s soft fur. That seemed to settle the dog and allowed Tristan to turn his thoughts inward.

His brother-in-law had mentioned in his missive that he wished to visit with Marion since he would be in London anyway, to deal with some parliamentary issues.

How much of that was the truth? Perhaps he only wanted to make sure his sister was not miserable. Drake had always been very protective of the women in his family, even when he’d been a man-about-town before his father died.

Was Marion miserable? If her desire for children became apparent during the visit, would that grant Manchester the right to know what their intimate relationship was? Or
wasn’t
, in this case. It didn’t matter. No man had the right to insert himself into a married couple’s relationship, regardless of his feelings or connections.

Just the thought of a child to care for and raise to adulthood almost brought him to his knees. How in heaven’s name would he be a proper father while he stumbled about, depending on a dog and a cane to get through his days?

“Ah, I see tea has arrived. It seems I timed my appearance just right.” Drake entered the room, bringing with him a scent of the outdoors and a presence that relieved some of the strain since Marion had spoken of Robert’s eyes.

“Tristan, Cook has sent some of your favorite biscuits. Or would you prefer a lemon tart?” Marion’s voice betrayed none of the longing he’d heard a few minutes ago. Or had he heard a longing? Perhaps he was envisioning monsters where there were none.

“I believe I will have both, my dear.”

“Well, here we are. Robert, look at the lovely biscuits,” Penelope said. The child responded to his mother in a language Tristan was sure only she could understand.

“My goodness, Drake. Did you hear what Robert said?” Her voice barely contained the joy at the remarkable event that just took place.

Yes, only the child’s mother would understand what the boy had just spewed out.

“Tristan, I see you have that dog fairly close to your side. I read recently that some sightless people are using animals, particularly dogs, to guide them about.”

“Yes, Argos and I are fairly inseparable chums. We’ve gone for strolls in the garden and have even ventured on the streets of London a time or two.”

“That is remarkable.”

“Tell me, what brings you to London?” Marion asked.

“I have a meeting with Lord Pleasance about an issue he wishes to take up in parliament when the new session begins.”

“Heavens, that is months away. Not that I’m unhappy to see you, but I would think that is not something pressing.”

“And, of course, I wished to see my sister. I must say, you are looking well.”

So Drake’s visit was not merely prompted by parliament, but to assure himself that Tristan had not locked Marion in a closet somewhere and left her with bread and water.

“I also wanted to make the trip before it became too difficult for my lovely wife to accompany me.”

“Difficult?” Tristan asked between sips of tea.

“Penelope is
enceinte
once again. We are anticipating the arrival of Robert’s sister or brother in March.”

Damnation. Will I ever learn to keep my mouth closed?

“Yes, we are very happy. Perhaps you will join us in parenthood sometime soon,” Penelope said.

“Perhaps,” Marion managed to choke out.

The rest of the conversation turned to family news, giving Tristan the opportunity to recover from the latest assault on his determination.

…

“Oh goodness, milady, here—let me help you.” Jane bustled across the room to where Marion was bent over the chamber pot.

It was three days after her brother’s return home, and each morning’s visit to the chamber pot reminded Marion of her dilemma, and that she would soon have to tell her husband of her condition. An issue on which he had not wavered.

If only he could have seen Robert and how adorable he was. During the entire visit Tristan had kept his distance from the baby as much as he did the fireplace. As if he could be burned by either one.

Had her brother or sister-in-law noticed his reluctance to be charmed by the baby, they hadn’t shown it. Jane handed her a cloth to wipe her mouth and a glass of cool water.

“Thank you.”

“Things will be better as you go along, milady. When my sister was carrying her little one she had an awful time at the beginning.”

Marion rested back on her heels. It should be no surprise that her lady’s maid knew of her condition. Before long the entire household would know. There would be no keeping it a secret from Tristan then. She did a quick count. In another month she would already have a bump underneath her gowns.

Not that Tristan touched her enough for it to come to his notice. She sighed and climbed to her feet, then grabbed the dresser as a wave of lightheadedness washed over her.

“Here, milady, come and sit, and I will bring you a warm cloth for your head.”

Marion made her way over to the settee and eased onto it. She accepted the cloth from Jane and closed her eyes. The maid padded back and forth across the room, the familiar sounds soothing Marion and helping her stomach to settle.

“I will be back in a minute, milady. I think a nice cup of tea will help.” She opened the bedroom door and added, “I know it always helped me mum when she was breeding.”

“Excuse me?” A deep voice intruded on her thoughts.

Marion yanked the cloth from her head and opened her eyes. Tristan stood at the doorway, his face as pale as new snow. His tightened jaw, narrowed eyes, and fist clenching his cane told her everything she hadn’t wanted to know.

Oh dear God.