Page 34

Chapter Thirty-Four

Interruptions…

T he sun was barely up, but Marina was standing at her window, staring outside at the blue-gray light of an early morning—all of it diffused through a haze of coal smoke. It hadn’t been dawn yet when Caleb had brought her home, helping her to slip inside with no one the wiser.

Now, as she looked out onto the fog shrouded city, she had to wonder if perhaps she would miss it. When they left London to live in the country, would she be filled with longing for dreary windowscapes such as the one before her? Or would the countryside offer green vistas and open fields that would soothe her spirit and wipe away the tension of the last several years?

She hadn’t been entirely honest with her aunt about the things she’d heard Stanford saying about her. It hadn’t merely been that he only wanted the money. No. It had been infinitely worse—disparaging her mother’s memory and dredging up the ugly specter of her father’s dishonor. The daughter of a fallen woman and a traitor, he’d jeered, uttering those words with such cold disdain. Would Caleb hold her in such contempt if he knew the whole truth?

Her musings were cut short as the maid entered the room to build up the fire.

“Oh, miss! I didn’t expect you to be up so early,” the girl said. “I’ll go fetch your chocolate for breakfast.”

“There’s no need. I haven’t much of an appetite.”

“Some tea then and perhaps a scone! It wouldn’t look the thing at all if you were to faint again, miss!”

The girl did make an excellent point. “Of course. You’re quite right. Tea and scones would be delightful.”

“Straight away, miss. Then I’ll come back and help you with your hair.”

Alone once more after the maid bustled out, Marina moved to her dressing table and began the arduous task of unplaiting the thick, curly locks that were both her greatest vanity and the bane of her existence. It was a mindless and tedious task, but it allowed her mind to simply wander, to consider all the implications of the day and what it might mean in the future.

The maid returned. They spoke very little as she took over the task of brushing Marina’s hair. And when Stephens entered a short time later, holding the hastily but perfectly altered gown she would wear for her wedding, the enormity of the moment truly penetrated the fog that had settled over her. When her aunt’s maid shooed hers away and assumed the task of dressing her hair, Marina braced herself for the torment. And it was. Her hair was tugged and pulled, coiled, pinned, curled, and beaten into submission. When it was done, she breathed a sigh of relief.

As she was being buttoned and laced into the beautiful silk, Willa entered. But there was a pinched and worried look on her face that did not at all match the hopeful expectation that she had displayed the night before.

Marina’s stomach dipped nervously. “What is it?”

“Likely nothing,” Willa said. To the servants she added, “Give us a moment, please.”

When they were gone, Marina rose. “Caleb has cried off.”

Willa’s jaw dropped. “Good heavens, no! Why would you even think such a thing?”

Marina didn’t answer. She was too consumed with relief. She just shook her head and indicated that her aunt should continue.

“There was a bit of a scandal last night at the Waldinghams’. And while, in theory, another scandal should have taken attention away from you this—well, it’s only drawn more.”

“What is it?” Marina asked.

“Mr. Danvers and Miss Whitmore were caught alone on the terrace overlooking the garden… well, not precisely alone. Stanford was with them, lying flat on his back having apparently invoked Mr. Danvers’s temper. Now, Mr. Danvers and Miss Whitmore are betrothed.”

Marina blinked owlishly for a moment. But as the shock of it faded, she sighed with relief. “Oh, I thought you were going to tell me something horrid.”

“It is a bit, don’t you think? If they marry, you will never be able to avoid her!”

“I can’t avoid her now,” Marina said. “But as you said, perhaps with a husband and family of her own, Elizabeth will have less time to nurture her animosity toward me.”

Willa stared at her for a moment, then nodded. “Why was Stanford with them?”

“I presume that Stanford has been courting Elizabeth in secret, though likely not with any real intent to wed her. The wager… well, it was his idea. He wanted to see me humiliated.”

“And all these attacks?” Willa asked. “If not Stanford or Miss Whitmore, then who was behind them?”

It was the one remaining mystery. “I cannot say. It was not Lady Crowden. And do not ask how I know. Simply trust that I do. That leaves only Mr. Nutter. But save for the evening at the theater, I have not seen even a hint of him.”

“It could be something else.”

“You think this is about my father,” Marina said.

“It could be. Devil thinks it possible.”

“What did he do? Really. I do not need to be protected from the truth anymore. Ignorance is poor armor.”

Willa took her hands. “His family business was the manufacturing of munitions. Munitions that were stolen by smugglers and then resold to the French. It was an elaborate scheme that took long to unravel as he was not alone in it. There were many players.”

“I need to inform Caleb. I don’t want him to find this out and think I have lied to him,” she said.

“Devil has done so already,” Willa stated. “And he does not care. Because you are not the man who sired you and you are not responsible for his sins. If there is one lesson to be taken away from all that I learned from Effie and the Darrow School, we are never responsible for the sins of our parents, whatever the world might try to make you believe.”

He knew. He knew every terrible truth and still he wanted her. Perhaps he did truly love her, Marina thought. Even when he’d said those words, her doubts hadn’t been assuaged. But she was inching ever closer to being able to believe them.

“Let’s get to the church,” she said. “I don’t wish to be late.”

Willa nodded. “Indeed. We shall depart immediately. The carriage is already waiting.”

*

Caleb was at the church far earlier than he should have been. Certainly it was far earlier than was seemly. But he was eager to see her again, eager to recite their vows and make her his countess.

The church doors opened, and he looked up to see Jacob entering. “I did not think to see you here.”

“Am I welcome?” Jacob asked.

Caleb nodded. “You are always welcome. And your betrothed?”

“She is waiting in a coffee house across the street. Under the circumstances, she felt it best that she not attend… But we are to travel on the next train to Ashford and be married immediately in her parish church.”

“With her family’s approval?”

Jacob nodded. “Indeed. I was greeted with an eagerness that was truly shocking… I think, despite the unpleasantness she may have visited on others, that Miss Whitmore has been treated very poorly by her family.”

Caleb nodded. “She is not the only one, I think. When the dust has settled, Jacob, we will revisit the matter of your involvement with the mines. I think perhaps our grandfather’s fears were not as well founded as I once believed.”

“Oh, no. They are. I’ve no head for business… and London has been a terrible influence on me. Miss Whitmore and I mean to remain at the small estate in Kent that is part of her marriage portion. I might not have a head for business but the notion of being a country gentleman has become quite tempting to me.”

Their conversation was halted as the doors opened once more. Lady Deveril entered along with the Viscount and Viscountess Seaburn. In light of what had transpired the last time Marina had walked down the aisle, the guest list was limited to only family and a few select guests. It wasn’t out of fear she would bolt or even faint. But she disliked being a spectacle and there had been enough of that already.

“I’ll take my seat,” Jacob said. “I wish you the best, Caleb.”

As Caleb watched Jacob make his way toward the pews, he wished that for him as well.