The Nobody: Signet Regency Romance (InterMix) (16 page)

His laugh rumbled against her ear. “Is that a ‘yes’?”

She nodded shyly into his shoulder. “It is as close to ‘yes’ as I dare go,” she whispered.

Despite the seemingly insurmountable obstacles that lay ahead, it was impossible to feel anything at this moment but elation. A rush of optimism caused Kilverton to exclaim, “It is settled, then! I will go to Elizabeth tomorrow morning and we will discuss the matter like reasonable beings. She cannot wish to marry a man whose heart she can never have! Why, nothing but misery could result from such a match. She will release me—and I will come to you—and I will
hope
, Miss Campbell.”

Chapter XIX

T
he next morning, the Duke of Arnsford’s second footman presented himself in the morning room to announce the arrival of Lord Kilverton to Her Grace and the young ladies. It was the first time Lord Kilverton had visited the ducal mansion in nearly three weeks, and the footman would have given much to know the meaning of the glance exchanged between Her Grace and Lady Elizabeth. However, Her Grace merely said, “Show him up, William,” and so William was forced to withdraw before he could hear anything interesting.

“Gracious!” cried Lady Winifred, a pert and unpleasant child of fourteen. “I vow, I’ve almost forgotten what Lord Kilverton looks like.”

Two of Winifred’s older sisters saw fit to snigger at this witticism, but Lady Elizabeth’s eyes flashed with anger. Her Grace spoke freezingly before Elizabeth could lose her temper.

“Winifred, Caroline, and Augusta—you will all three go immediately to the schoolroom. Elizabeth and I shall receive his lordship in private.”

The nasty smiles were instantly wiped from three faces as the girls chorused, “Yes, Mama,” and rose meekly to depart. Augusta appeared somewhat vexed by this dismissal to the schoolroom, as she was nearly twenty years old, but she did not dare to cross her mother—or, for that matter, her sister Elizabeth.

When her sisters had gone, Elizabeth nervously patted her hair and twitched her fichu into place. Richard had apparently not courted Miss Campbell’s company last night at his mother’s soiree, but neither had he stayed at his fiancée’s side. At one point, in fact, he had disappeared for over an hour. She dreaded discovering the meaning of this morning’s interview. “Do not desert me, Mama!” she implored under her breath, just before the door opened to admit their caller.

There was a gravity in Lord Kilverton’s demeanor, and a martial light in his eye, never before seen by Elizabeth. She carefully ignored these alarming signals and advanced with her hand held out, her face wreathed in smiles.

“Richard! How pleasant this is! What brings you out so early in the day?”

He took her hand briefly and bowed. “The hope that I might claim a fiancé’s right to some time alone with you, Elizabeth. How do you do, Your Grace? I trust you will excuse us for a few minutes?”

“How do you do, Kilverton?” pronounced Her Grace, majestically ignoring his request and waving him to a chair. “Your visit is extremely
apropos.
Elizabeth and I wish to request your opinion on several matters. September is not so very far away, you know, and an event of this magnitude requires careful planning. We are expecting several hundred guests at the wedding breakfast. Elizabeth and I had thought to hold it on the South Lawn, but if the weather should be inclement would you object to moving the breakfast indoors?”

Elizabeth picked up her mother’s cue and rushed into speech. “Oh, yes! Of course we meant to ask you, Richard. Delacourt has an enormous ballroom. It would certainly hold everyone, but the
decor
is rococo—quite definitely rococo! Do you think it might be too ornate for a breakfast?”

Kilverton was nonplussed. “Well, really, I—”

Elizabeth interrupted him rather feverishly. “There is the gallery, you know! It might be considered odd to serve a wedding breakfast in a gallery, but it is extremely large and all the windows face south, so even on a rainy day the gallery has a great deal of light. I think light gives a cheerful aspect, don’t you? Yes, all things considered, I believe I prefer the gallery to the ballroom.”

By this time, Kilverton was frowning. “I have seen neither room, Elizabeth, so I can hardly be expected to have an opinion.”

Elizabeth uttered a gay and tinkling laugh that made the hairs on the back of Kilverton’s neck stand up. “Oh, well, we did not like to make all the arrangements without you, you know! After all, it will be
your
wedding as much as mine.”

Kilverton took a deep breath, but the duchess forestalled him, “Very true, my love, but we cannot expect gentlemen to enter into the spirit of planning a wedding with the same interest we do. It will be our place, Elizabeth—yours and mine—to arrange and to execute all the details that will make your wedding day run smoothly. I recall your grandmother saying to me—” And she launched into a lengthy and boring anecdote regarding her own wedding, the only point of which, so far as Richard could see, being that her husband must have been as reluctant a bridegroom as he himself was. For the first time, Richard felt a twinge of sympathy for the luckless Duke of Arnsford.

Courtesy forbade him to interrupt the duchess, but as soon as she paused for breath Kilverton determinedly entered the conversation, no longer caring if he appeared rude. “I fear I cannot spare my entire morning to you ladies. Before I go, I would like to request a few minutes alone with Elizabeth—immediately!”

Elizabeth shot a despairing glance at her mother, but Her Grace was unable to think of any reasonable objection. Once a couple were betrothed, it was absurd to pretend they required a chaperon. Seeing that her redoubtable mother was, for once, at a loss, Elizabeth forced out another high, breathless laugh.

“Well, really, Richard, I cannot imagine why you would need to see me alone. Anything you wish to say to me you may say before my mother.”

“You are mistaken,” said Richard grimly, striking terror into Elizabeth’s heart. “Would you care to step into the drawing room, Elizabeth, or do you prefer the salon? It is immaterial to me.” He rose and held the door open for her as he spoke. Thus challenged, Elizabeth felt she had no choice but to comply. She rose stiffly. Kilverton bowed to the duchess and led Elizabeth to the small salon off the entry hall, where he firmly shut the door—greatly disappointing William, who had lingered in the hall hoping to witness just such a scene as was doubtless about to occur.

Once alone with him, Elizabeth faced her fiancé squarely, her eyes now glittering with the light of battle. “What is it you wish to say to me?” she demanded. “I take leave to tell you, Richard, I find your conduct most extraordinary! How dare you absent yourself for two weeks without a word of explanation, and then demand a private interview? I expect an apology, my lord.”

This was going to be even more difficult than Kilverton had foreseen. He felt all the guilt and embarrassment natural to a man who was about to do something he feared was not quite honorable, plus a stab of pity for Elizabeth. It cost him an effort to meet her gaze, but he did so, reminding himself that the happiness of three people was at stake—his own, Elizabeth’s, and most importantly, Miss Campbell’s.

“You have my apology,” he said gently. “I am sorry, Elizabeth—sorrier than I can say—for whatever pain I have inflicted, and the pain I fear I am about to inflict on you.”

Elizabeth clutched the back of a chair, feeling suddenly faint. He cannot jilt me, she reminded herself desperately. He cannot! Meanwhile, Kilverton launched into a rehearsed speech.

“You have spoken to me repeatedly about the many ways in which our opinions and outlooks differ, Elizabeth. You have pointed out, and carefully explained to me, the gulf that lies between us on almost every issue of importance. I have come to the conclusion that I agree with you on this, if nothing else, and I wish to assure you that I will bear you no ill-will—none whatsoever!—should you wish to be released from your promise. In fact, I will do whatever I can to smooth the way for you and make that decision easier.”

Elizabeth summoned up a rather ghastly smile. “You are all consideration, my lord. But I do not wish to be released from my promise. Many couples disagree on various matters and yet live together quite comfortably. I am persuaded you and I will achieve a similar success.”

Kilverton almost winced. “You call such a marriage
successful
? I would call it a disaster. Our views are opposed on this, as on nearly everything else.” He crossed the room swiftly and took her hands in a strong clasp. “Think, Elizabeth! It is not too late. I beg you, do not force us into this alliance. A marriage between such ill-matched personalities will doom us both to a lifetime of regret.”

Elizabeth snatched her hands out of his grasp, an ugly color suffusing her face. Her features contorted with rage. Startled, Kilverton instinctively stepped back.

“So
now
we come to the point!” she spat. “It is you who desires a release from your promise, not I! How
dare
you come to me, mewling and sniveling about ‘smoothing my way’? Pretending to consider my feelings! Filling my ears with this Banbury story about a ‘lifetime of regret’! I’ll show you the meaning of a ‘lifetime of regret,’ my lord! I’ll make you sorry you were ever
born
if you dare to jilt me! You will never live it down! Never! Not you, nor any of your family!”

Kilverton stared in amazement as Elizabeth leaned forward, her eyes narrowing with menace. “Who do you think you
are
?” she hissed. “Viscount Kilverton! What is that? A trumped-up title for the son of Selcroft! And who will you be? The
sixth
earl! Why, the Delacourts were Dukes of Arnsford when the town of Kilverton was a two-horse farm—when your family was nothing but a gaggle of upstart yeomen! If you believe you can offer
me
an insult of this magnitude, you will soon discover your mistake!”

“I have already discovered my mistake,” said Kilverton drily. “If you do not desire to become a Kilverton, Elizabeth, you have my heartfelt permission to remain a Delacourt.”

Elizabeth realized she had made a tactical error. She struggled for a moment to recover her temper. “I did not mean to speak disparagingly of your family. I beg your pardon! I am afraid I was angry for a moment.”

Kilverton laughed mirthlessly. “Handsome of you! But I do not want your apologies. You express nothing but contempt and dislike for me, and yet you propose to live intimately with me for the rest of your life. How can you stomach the idea, let alone insist upon it?”

Confusion flickered in Elizabeth’s eyes. “Did you think we were making a
love match
?” she gasped, her voice and face expressing all the horror she felt at such a vulgar notion.

Kilverton could not repress a shudder. “Certainly not!” he replied. He regarded her gravely. “But did you not hope, Elizabeth, that we would come to love one another—in time? If I had not thought so, I would never have offered for you.”

Elizabeth’s lips curled into a scornful smile. “I never dreamed you harbored such shabby-genteel sentiments, my lord. I do not consider
love
, in the sense you speak of it, to be either necessary or desirable in marriage. On the contrary, I believe it often leads to unhappiness of the worst kind! Pray do not expect me to hang on your sleeve, my lord, once we are married. I will not willingly provide food for vulgar gossip, or furnish entertainment for others through my behavior.”

With a shock, Kilverton realized it was this very quality he had once prized in Elizabeth. He remembered, as if in some distant dream, that he had congratulated himself on acquiring a wife who would enact him no passionate scenes, and expect none from him. The aspect of Elizabeth’s character that had most appealed to him a month ago now struck him as repellent. Groaning inwardly, he tried again.

“Elizabeth, believe me, I am doing you a favor in urging you to break our engagement. There must be any number of men who will value your irreproachable conduct. I am not among them! You would do well to look elsewhere. I am willing to play whatever role you assign me in this—to appear villainous, foolish, or licentious—anything you ask! Only set us free from one another, Elizabeth. I beg you.”

Elizabeth’s angry flush returned, and her voice shook with rage. “I will not! I will not even listen to you! Our betrothal has been announced. The wedding date has been set. How can you ask me to even
contemplate
such a humiliating step? It is far too late for these repinings, Richard! I tell you again, if you play the jack with me I will make you regret it to your dying day!”

Kilverton’s mouth set grimly. “Perhaps I have not made myself plain, Elizabeth. What I am proposing is that
you
jilt
me.
I do not share your scruples. You may humiliate me with my goodwill! I will gladly be an object of scorn or pity for a few months, rather than marry where I cannot love. Jilt me, Elizabeth! I will not contradict whatever story you choose to tell to justify the action.”

“Very pretty talking, Richard! And what of my reputation? What of my future? What becomes of all the gentlemen who supposedly will value me for my ‘irreproachable’ conduct? Will these gentlemen still value me, once I have created a scandal? It is preposterous! Who will offer for me, once I have jilted you?”

Kilverton’s heart sank. “I have told you, you may place the blame for it squarely on my shoulders.”

“Yes? And what am I to say? Why did I cry off, Richard? Are you a drunkard? Odd that no one else has noticed it! Did you, perhaps, strike me? Is that more likely?”

“Yes, it is,” agreed Kilverton promptly.

Elizabeth was not amused. “It is not at all likely, and that is precisely my point! No one will believe any tale wild enough to justify my taking such a drastic action.” She faced Kilverton squarely, her eyes glittering.

“In the interests of our future harmony, I have decided to forget this conversation ever took place. I believe it is natural to feel some degree of nervousness before one’s wedding. I consider that you have expressed to me nothing more than natural misgivings, and that we have now dealt with them satisfactorily. My sentiments have undergone no change, Richard, and I contemplate our future alliance with every expectation of happiness. I will be glad to take your hand in church on the second of September. Good day, my lord!”

Kilverton regarded her bleakly for a moment. “I will leave you,” he said quietly. “But I hope you will carefully consider what I have said.”

“Good day!”

“If you change your mind at any time, Elizabeth—”

“Get out!”

Kilverton bowed ironically and flung open the salon door, thinking savagely what a gudgeon he had been to believe Elizabeth would never enact him any emotional scenes! His rapid exit greatly discomposed William, who had been hovering directly outside. All expression instantly vanished from the footman’s countenance and he stared impassively into the middle distance. Kilverton took no notice of him, however, but strode purposefully toward the front door. William watched his lordship’s departure with covert interest. Furious sobs and the crash of flying ornaments seemed to be emanating from the salon. He wondered if this would be the last the ducal staff might see of Lord Kilverton.