Page 14

Chapter Fourteen

The spectacle…

A fter he’d finished dressing, Caleb descended the stairs of the townhouse and made for the study. Upon entering, he found Jacob there. The other man was seated at his desk, feet propped up on it and sipping brandy.

“You appear to be quite comfortable,” Caleb observed. Lord Deveril’s assessment of his friend remained topmost in his mind. He wasn’t unaware of Jacob’s headlong dive into every vice the city offered, but for him to have made himself so well known to others in his pursuit of hedonistic pleasures in such a short time begged one very pertinent question. How was he paying for it? The bequest he’d been given was gone entirely.

Jacob shrugged, an air of insouciance emanating from him. “If I’m not perfectly comfortable in the home of my oldest friend, where could I be?”

That answer grated, the phrasing in it only too familiar. It felt as though Jacob used the long standing of their friendship as a kind of currency. “Is there some reason you are here tonight?”

“Just inquiring about this debacle you’ve gotten yourself into,” Jacob replied. “You do not have to marry her, you know?”

“No, I do not have to. I choose to, as I should. And I will follow through,” Caleb insisted. “It’s the right thing to do. It’s also what I want to do. I came to London, if you recall, to find a bride and now, in a somewhat unorthodox fashion, I have done so.”

Jacob rose, all hints of indolence gone. “I’ve heard the gossip about her. A fickle flirt. And a jilt. Left a man all but weeping at the altar. A girl who would do such a thing—to run out of her very own wedding? Well, it hardly speaks well of her.”

Caleb’s fists clenched at his side. “That’s enough, Jacob. I will not discuss the matter further!”

Jacob continued on as if he hadn’t even spoken. “She’s practically ruined already—there would be no shame in just walking away from her.”

Caleb’s temper rose. “I’m going to pretend this conversation never took place. And if you are wise, Jacob, you will never repeat the horrid things you’ve just said.”

“What horrid things, Caleb? It’s the bloody truth. Half of society thinks her foolish and the other half thinks her fast. And you know nothing of her. You’ve only just met her for Pete’s sake!”

“And I haven’t a damn to give!” Caleb’s shouted reply echoed in the room. It was a rare thing for him to lose his temper and apparently it gave even Jacob pause as the man stepped back. Continuing, reining in his temper, he said, “I do not care what society thinks of her, Jacob. What matters is what I think of her. She’s a lovely girl—kind, intelligent, and beautiful. Through no fault of her own, or mine for that matter, we are in a situation where marriage is the only honorable option. As she is my future wife, I will not have her name bandied about by you or anyone else. I’ll thank you to remember that she will the Countess of St. Aiden.”

Jacob sneered. “You’ve taken to being a titled gentleman quite well, haven’t you? Not even two months since it came to you and already you’re a different man.”

Was he? Perhaps, Caleb acknowledged. He was different enough to question the motives of a man who’d been his friend for a very long time. After all, he’d outfitted Jacob for society events. He’d put the man up in an apartment at the Albany. Jacob was there on his charity. How could he help but wonder if perhaps that wasn’t the source of the other man’s concerns. “Tread carefully, Jacob. This will be the last time I offer that warning… good evening.”

Turning on his heel, Caleb left the study and headed for the front door. Donning his great coat and top hat, he exited the house. As he climbed into his carriage, Jacob’s words reverberated in his head. But it wasn’t doubts of Marina Ashton that plagued him. It was doubts about his old friend and whether or not wealth and position might finally drive a permanent wedge between them.

*

Marina tugged at one of her elbow-length gloves. She detested them, but they had to be worn not only because theater attendance required such a degree of formality but also for the purpose of hiding the ugly scrapes and bruises from their earlier tumble. She was not looking forward to attending the theater though she understood the necessity of it. They needed for society to believe them to be a young couple, deeply infatuated with one another and on the cusp of marriage. It was the only way they would survive the scandal of having been found in such a truly compromising position. And Marina was deeply aware of the consequences that came with being judged guilty by association—or relation. After all, she could not even remember the sound of her mother’s voice or recall her face, beyond the miniature portrait that her uncle had given her. The poor woman had died in a hovel, disgraced and alone save for her Uncle Devil who had arrived at the very last moment.

It was never far from her mind that, while he’d been too late for her mother, he’d certainly saved her. She could not even imagine what her life might have been had he not taken her in without a second thought. Then, of course, there was Willa who had started as her governess and who had become like a mother to her. There were so many feelings intertwined within her for them. Gratitude. Guilt. A sense that perhaps she hadn’t deserved the salvation that had been afforded her. The very last thing she wanted was to cause them any pain or embarrassment.

She didn’t want to further taint the family’s reputation. The boys, Desmond and Gervase, would be fine. By virtue of their sex, the rules for their behavior were significantly more lax. But it was her youngest cousin, little Isabella, who was her deepest concern. At only seven years old, she was far too young to understand any of what was happening. Even then, she might be judged very harshly on it when it was her turn to enter society. Not everyone had been so accepting of her governess-turned-aunt in society. With that, and then Marina’s own scandals, it could make things very difficult.

A soft knock sounded at the door and her maid opened it. After a brief exchange, Ethel returned and placed the final diamond pin in her coiffure. “The earl has arrived, miss.”

“Thank you, Ethel. My velvet cloak is already downstairs. I shouldn’t need another wrap. The very notion that there might be a draft in an overly crowded theater is laughable,” Marina stated dryly. In truth, it would be the embarrassment and impotent fury at suffering the judgments of others that would likely heat her blood. Or perhaps it might simply be the presence of Caleb Halliwell.

The memory of what it had felt like to have the length of her body pressed to his had not left her. Throughout the remainder of the day, it had been perpetually on her mind. Even in the midst of that terrifying incident, it had stirred something within her that she’d never felt before. Of course, she’d been betrothed to Stanford and never experienced those sensations, but then she’d never been pressed against him intimately. Indeed, their betrothal had lasted months and he’d never so much as kissed her. Of course, she understood why now. But she didn’t wish to think about Stanford and his deceptions. It was her current betrothed who was most prominently on her mind. Now, with her heightened awareness of him, she wondered how on earth she would survive the night sitting next to him in the quiet recesses of a private box at the theater.

Taking a deep and hopefully steadying breath, Marina left her room and descended the stairs to the small drawing room where everyone waited for her. As per usual, she was the last one to be ready. “Good evening,” she said, as she entered. Caleb and her uncle had both risen and remained so until she took a seat next to Willa.

“Marina,” Willa began, “Lillian and Val shall be joining us at the theater. It will be a bit cramped with all six of us in the box, but it will be nice to have them there I think. Afterward, we shall adjourn to their house for refreshment. If you are agreeable, of course, Lord St. Aiden?”

“I should be very glad to join you there if Miss Ashton and the hosts have no objection,” he replied.

His voice was so deep and rich. It raised gooseflesh on her skin. She was so distracted by it that it took a moment, where the silence stretched to the point of discomfort, for Marina to realize that a response was required from her. “Oh, certainly. Of course. I’d be very pleased to have your company afterward.”

“As we’ll all be going to the same place,” Willa said, “It seems rather a waste of time and good company to take two carriages. You must ride with us, Lord St. Aiden.”

Marina caught the look that passed between Caleb and her uncle. After a moment’s hesitation and a slight nod from Devil, Caleb inclined his head. “I’d be delighted for the opportunity to spend more time in your very pleasant company. Thank you, Lady Deveril.”

They all chatted together for a moment more, no one saying anything of consequence. It was all perfectly civilized and yet completely awkward. When the butler stepped in to tell them the carriage was waiting, it was an inordinate relief.

Inside, Willa and Marina took the forward-facing seat while Devil and Caleb had taken the rear facing seat as true gentlemen should. Conversation was limited and sparse. Thankfully, the drive to the theater was a relatively short one. Waiting in line to disembark from the carriage was quite another thing. The queue was considerable. A fact only exacerbated by the way everyone was congregating in front of the theater—to see and be seen, to partake of, spread, or claim center stage in current gossip. Rumors were currency in their world, after all, Marina thought with no small degree of bitterness.

As they finally reached the entrance and were disembarking, a whispered voice murmured, “It’s rather like being a caged beast in a menagerie.”

Marina glanced up, heartened by Caleb’s observation which mirrored her own thoughts from earlier. “I was thinking much the same myself earlier today while in the park. Perhaps if we entertain the crowd enough, they will then leave us be.”

He shook his head. “They are ravenous. Insatiable when it comes to gossip… especially if it’s of the salacious variety. They’d not be satisfied until we were torn to shreds.”

They said nothing further until they were inside. Nothing could be heard at any rate. Once they were lost in the throng of gathered people, the noise of them all was quite deafening. Weaving their way through the mass of people was a bit like water finding its way through a narrow crack in stone. Twisting and turning, it felt like utter chaos. Once they finally reached the entrance, everyone collectively breathed a sigh of relief. However, there was no reprieve to be had inside. The lobby was as packed as the sidewalk and stairs had been outside, if not more so.

“It’s an absolute crush,” Willa observed.

Devil grimaced. “I hadn’t intended to bring it up but there were significant stories in the gossip sheets today. No doubt many expected us to attend tonight as this particular play has been much anticipated.”

Marina tried to keep her expression neutral, to wear that affected look of coolly civil disdain. The truth of the matter was that she wanted only to run out of the theater, throw herself into the carriage, and return home. Once there, she would bury her head beneath the covers on her bed and never emerge. Since the morning where she would have married Stanford, being the center of attention had become a painful and anxiety ridden experience for her. “I hate to be the center of attention, everyone looking at me and whispering,” she said under her breath.

“It will be only for a short time,” Caleb replied just as softly. “Let’s find our box and have at least some semblance of comfort and privacy.”

She didn’t try to answer. It felt as if her throat were closing—as if she couldn’t catch her breath. Had Ethel laced her corset too tightly? Of course, every corset was too tight. She’d certainly never responded in that way to the familiar constrictive device. Feeling as though she were on the verge of fainting dead away, she grasped Caleb’s arm more firmly. In return, he placed his hand over hers, offering welcome reassurance.

Together, they navigated the crowded lobby until they could finally reach the stairs. They climbed slowly until they reached the balcony level and located their box. Settling into their seats as they waited for the performance to start, Marina was once more overcome with a strange feeling. But it wasn’t the panic induced by the crowd below. Nor was it the strange awareness she felt of her physical self when she was with Caleb. This was something wholly different. And terrifying. It was the prickling sensation that one felt when being watched, observed. Stalked .

Glancing around, looking for the source of that discomfort, she found herself staring into the cold, hard eyes of Mr. Roger Nutter. No longer the affable but dreadfully dull suitor—he looked at her with pure hatred burning in his gaze. With Stanford earlier and now him, she felt like prey being stalked in the wild. Danger seemed to lurk at every turn.

“Marina, you must come shopping with us tomorrow morning!” Lillian insisted. “Your Uncle Valentine has offended me deeply and so now I must go spend a king’s ransom on things I absolutely do not need. You will benefit greatly from my annoyance with him.”

Glancing back at her aunt, she forced a smile. “Certainly, Aunt Lillian. I will never pass up an opportunity to spite shop with you.”

Marina turned back, but Mr. Nutter was gone, vanished into the crowd. It made her wonder if perhaps she hadn’t imagined it all together. Only the strangely discomfited sensation remained to haunt her.