With His Ring (Brides of Bath Book 2) (24 page)

She was happy for the opportunity to dance
the first set with Appleton. Though he rarely danced, his gallantry
induced him to step in for his missing friend. "I say, where's
Blanks tonight?" he asked as they strolled onto the dance
floor.

"That's what I was going to ask you. Have
you not seen him this evening?"

He shook his head.

"Then I'm not precisely sure where he is. I
daresay he'll show presently."

"I'm sure you're right."

As they left the dance floor at the end of
the set, she saw Blanks. Though he appeared in formal dress and
looked devilishly handsome, she could tell instantly he was in his
cups.

And blazing anger flashed in his eyes when
he met her gaze.

Chapter 20

Appleton guided Glee directly to her
husband. "Just filling in 'till you got here, old fellow," he said
to Blanks as he handed Glee over.

Blanks ignored his friend and addressed
Glee. "You are to dance with no one but me, madam," he said with
barely controlled anger, his speech altered by the drink Glee
smelled on his lips.

Glee and Appleton exchanged puzzled glances,
then she took both of Blanks's hands. "I shall be delighted to
dance with you, dearest. I've been so terribly worried about
you."

Their further conversation was prevented by
the appearance of Felicity and Thomas. "Good to see you,
Blankenship," Thomas said.

Felicity presented her hand to Blanks, and
he obliged by pressing his lips to it but gave her no greeting.

Glee's pulse raced as she watched her
husband. His perpetual smile was absent and his eyes smoldered with
fury. He left little doubt that he was angry with her, but she had
no inkling what she had done to provoke such anger. "Come,
dearest," she said, linking her arm through his, "let's take a turn
about The Octagon so you can tell me all about your meeting with
Mr. Willowby today."

"And you, my dear," he said mean-spiritedly,
"can enlighten me about
your
day."

She continued to hold his hand as they
pressed through the throng of carefree merrymakers in silken
finery. Then they came upon William Jefferson, who presented her,
then Blanks, with a wicked smile.

Blanks shocked Glee by barking, "A private
word with you, Jefferson."

Jefferson's black eyes danced. "At your
service, my good man."

Glee squeezed Blanks's hand as they
continued toward The Octagon, Jefferson following on their heels.
When they reached The Octagon, Blanks disengaged his hand from
hers. "What I have to say to your . . .
friend
is nothing a
lady should hear."

It was as if she had suffered a sudden
thrust of knife.
Blanks knows about the kiss
. She began to
tremble. "I beg to be allowed to stay, for I fear your conversation
will not be without reference to me."

Blanks's lips twisted into a cynical smile.
"Suit yourself, madam."

She hated to hear herself so curtly
addressed.

They entered the dimly lit Octagon but were
not alone. A number of couples strolled the perimeter of the
gallery room. Glee followed Blanks to the center of the chamber,
where he came to a stop and faced Jefferson with a murderous glare.
"I don't choose to tread on my wife's reputation," Blanks slurred,
"but I give you warning that if you ever again seek to dance with
my wife or to see her in private, I
will
call you out."

Jefferson tossed his head back and laughed.
"Must you sound so maudlin? I assure you there's nothing more than
a mild flirtation between Mrs. Blankenship and me. And truth be
told, the flirtation has been rather one-sided."

Glee's heart drummed madly as Blanks tore
into Jefferson, twisting the man's silken lapels in his big hands
and thrusting his face nose to nose with Jefferson. "Keep your
filthy hands off my wife or I'll kill you."

Terror stricken, Glee watched the two men,
one enraged, the other frightened. Then her eyes darted to the
others who shared the chamber. They could not have heard Blanks's
threats, but they could bear witness to his angry grip on
Jefferson. And scandal was the last thing Blanks needed. Not with
Jonathan fishing for any sign that his brother's marriage was in
jeopardy. "Blanks, please," she said with trembling voice, "others
will see you."

Blanks let go of Jefferson's coat and
whirled at Glee. "You should have considered that before your met
your lover in broad daylight in a phaeton that everyone in Bath
recognizes as Mrs. Blankenship's."

Glee shifted her gaze from Blanks to
Jefferson and spoke firmly. "Do as my husband says and leave us
alone."

His eyes wide with fear, Jefferson nodded,
spun on his heel and left the Assembly Rooms altogether.

"He's not only a dishonorable lout, he's
also a coward," Blanks said. Blanks curled his hand around Glee's
arm until she winced with pain.

"Please, Blanks, don't make a scene. You've
got to remember Jonathan."

"You certainly didn't," he said in guttural
voice.

"I can't deny that I acted with complete
impropriety, but you must believe there's nothing between Jefferson
and me. You cannot know how much I loathe the man."

The pain on Blanks's face startled her when
he spoke. "You told me you'd not have an affair."

"You'll have to take my word for it, Blanks.
I have not had an affair—and I never will." Her voice softened.
"Hurting you is the last thing I'd ever want to do."

"I think we'd best leave," he said
angrily.

"But we can't. People will talk. The best
thing to do is to stay at the assembly and convince everyone of how
happy we are. We can't afford for anyone to suspect there's
disharmony in our marriage."

"But there is a great deal of
disharmony."

How those words hurt her! Especially when a
harmonious marriage was what she desired most in the world. "That's
for only you and me to know. To others, we must appear deliriously
happy."

"You expect me to look happy when I saw my
wife kiss another man? When I've threatened to kill that man?"

"Just for a little while, Blanks," she
pleaded. "We must dance one set together, then we'll go home.
You've drunk too much, and I need to put you to bed."

He twisted her arm even harder. "I had good
reason to drink."

Yes, he did. He had seen her kiss Jefferson.
Glee wanted to tell him the circumstances that led her to bestow
the kiss on the loathsome man, but she could not bear to hurt
Blanks by allowing him to think she valued his earrings so little
she could wager them in a card game. Better for him to think her
merely careless in her choice of friends. "I cannot disagree with
you, but please, come dance with me. Just one set."

He nodded.

As they were leaving The Octagon, Glee saw
Felicity swiftly pass through its other side to the Bennett Street
exit.

When Glee and Blanks re-entered the
ballroom, Appleton came rushing up to them. "Something quite
dreadful's happened," he said.

Glee arched a brow. "What, pray tell?"

"I gave the note to a servant and asked him
to deliver it to the lovely blonde in blue. I meant, of course,
Miss Aggremont, but the idiot presented it to your sister."

Glee's eyes widened. "I shall run and tell
Felicity about the mix-up in our hoax." She fled the ballroom.

Appleton, who was now joined by the twins,
apprised Gregory of what had transpired.

"The lot of you are five-and-twenty years of
age," Gregory scolded. "When will you stop behaving as if you're
just down from Oxford?" Perhaps he should have taken Glee to Sutton
Hall. Bringing her to Bath had proven disastrous.

"I believe the pot's calling the kettle
black, old boy," Appleton said. "We ain't the ones three sheets in
the wind."

"I think Pixie's right about you," Elvin
said to Blanks, shaking his head. "You, dear Blanks, have become an
old stick. Even if you are bosky tonight."

"I'll thank you to address my wife as Mrs.
Blankenship!" Gregory did not at all like the manner in which his
friends cavorted with Glee. They were a very bad influence on so
young and impressionable a girl.

His three friends cowered, nodding at
him.

Then Thomas came up to them. "Have any of
you fellows seen my wife? I seemed to have lost her."

"She's meeting Thornton at the Bennett
Street entrance," Elvin said.

Thomas's brows drew together as his puzzled
glance shifted to each member of the group.

"It's all very simple, Moreland," Blanks
explained. Then he proceeded to inform Thomas of the
childish
prank
.

"Who, may I ask, is Thornton?" Thomas
demanded.

"Nobody you'd want to know," Appleton said.
"A braggart if ever there was one with nothing whatsoever to make
him so highly value his worth."

Blanks watched Glee and her sister re-enter
and cross the ballroom.

Relief on her face, Glee addressed Appleton.
"Mr. Thornton hasn't arrived yet. There's still time to deliver
another note to Miss Aggremont."

"He'll do no such thing!" Gregory
snapped.

Glee shrugged and lifted her unhappy gaze to
Appleton.

"Daresay," Appleton said, "it's far too
childish a prank for men of five-and-twenty to commit."

The orchestra began to play a waltz, and
Glee turned a smiling face to her husband. "Shall we dance this set
together before we have to leave, dearest? I know how very fatigued
you are from your tedious day."

Despite the fury which still raged within
him, he realized Glee was right to put on a good front. In his
wrath, he had almost lost sight of the reason why he had married
Glee in the first place and the necessity that compelled him to
appear happily wed. Silently, with an almost imperceptible nod, he
offered her his arm, and they strolled to the dance floor.

When the orchestra began, he held her
stiffly and made no effort to converse with her. A pity he'd had so
very much to drink. It caused his steps to falter and him to use
Glee to prevent himself from falling flat on his face. His drinking
also released his tongue from the inhibitions placed on it by
society.

"I know I promised not to meddle in your
affairs, Blanks---"

"Then don't."

He felt her tremble beneath his touch. "I
don't mean to meddle. I only ask that when you have made plans with
me—such as we had for tonight—you send around a note telling me
you'll not come. I declare, Blanks, I was half mad with worry,
thinking something dreadful had happened to you."

"Then you would have been a very rich widow,
madam. Your brother saw to that in the marriage contracts."

"I wish you wouldn't call me
madam
.
It sounds so. . .so stern, and I beg you not to try to make it
sound as if I married you for your fortune."

He slowed his step and looked down into her
face. "Did you not?"

She stomped her foot. "I did not! I admit I
like the idea of being married to a wealthy man, but that's not the
reason I married you. I married you because. . .because I thought
we were the best of friends."

He detected a whimper in her voice. She was
about to cry. He needed to get her out of this room before she made
a scene. "Come,
my dear
, it's best that we go home."

She drew a long breath. "Yes, let's."

He took her hand and began to wind through
the dancers far more erratically than he would have were he
sober. Once out of the room he procured her wrap, then they left
the building.

"Bloody hell, it's raining," he muttered.
"Stay here. I'll call a hansom."

"It's not raining very hard. I don't mind
getting wet."

He looked at her slender figure in that
abominable red gown with only a thin shawl over her bare bodice. "I
do mind. I shouldn't like to be blamed if my wife were to come down
with lung fever and die."

The chit burst out crying. "But you'd be far
better off—and much happier—with me dead," she whimpered between
sobs.

He backed her into the brick wall under the
portico and, with his arms, pinned her against the front of the
building. "Don't talk like that. I shouldn't like it all if you
were to die," he said in a gentle voice. "I would lose my dearest,
most exasperating
friend
."

She raised up on her tiptoes and hugged him.
"Oh, Blanks, I feel so terribly wretched that I've made you angry.
I promise to be a good wife from now on."

He pulled away from her embrace. "You can
start by not wearing that deuced red dress."

She giggled. “I promise.”

He stepped out onto the puddled pavement and
signaled for a hansom.

* * *

Since Blankenship House was but a few blocks
from the Assembly Rooms, they were soon home. And a good thing,
Gregory thought. His bed beckoned. He had grown unaccustomed to
getting foxed. Since he had decided to marry Glee, his life had
tamed considerably. In fact, his friends were right. He
was
becoming an old stick.

He slipped when he tried to get out of the
carriage and his knee slammed to the street when he fell. The next
thing he knew, Glee had leaped into the wet street and stooped to
help him up, her skirts soaking up the water that ran through the
streets. "Are you hurt?"

"Of course I'm hurt," he barked.

With the aid of the hansom driver, Glee
helped Blanks to the front door, where he grabbed onto the wall and
pulled coins from his pocket, which he then thrust at the
driver.

Glee opened the door, and Hampton came
scurrying to meet them. He looked at Gregory, but his expression
did not reveal that he found anything out of the ordinary in
Gregory's altered behavior.

"Please help me get Mr. Blankenship up the
stairs," Glee said. "He's taken a fall and hurt his knee."

"I don't need any help," Gregory
snapped.