Page 8 of One Kiss in the Shadows (Singular Sensation #12)
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M ay 27, 1819
“Why am I so nervous?” Mallory asked of her maid Ruth as she put on a pair of delicate silver earbobs that featured tiny teardrop shapes encrusted with even tinier diamond chips that caught the candlelight. “It’s dinner with one of the duke’s friends and shouldn’t frighten me so.”
The fact that she’d never met the Earl and Countess of Baselford wasn’t lost on her, but Nathaniel had told her the story last night of how the earl had lost his memories and had to essentially court his wife all over again. And they’d fallen in love for a second time. It was a story of hope and romance that Mallory couldn’t have enough of, but he was a member of the Rogue’s Arcade, and she instinctively worried over him because of her mother’s plans.
“Because you fear that you are inferior to others in the beau monde ,” Ruth said while she worked the clasp of a matching bracelet around Mallory’s left wrist. “You are not, Your Grace.”
Yet if she reminded herself that she was, indeed, an earl’s daughter as far as the ton knew—but more probably the illegitimate daughter of a marquess—and had every right to exist within their society and even marry a duke, the next thought that always followed was that her mother was a horribly vindictive woman with a thirst for pain, torture, and murder toward anyone who got in her way.
And who in polite society would want to acknowledge her—Mallory—as a friend?
“Thank you for that.” If she lingered in her suite too much longer, Strathfield would come up and retrieve her, but she couldn’t help it. “Do you think His Grace will mind that I’ve already worn this gown.” But the silver satin and silk confection was so pretty, and the way the fabric slid over her skin never failed to make her feel like a luxurious lady.
“He won’t care, and you look like a dream in it.” Ruth’s nod of approval gave her a burst of confidence, especially since the maid was older than she and knew much more about society than she did. “Besides, your modiste promised that all the clothing you’ve ordered will be delivered today and tomorrow. Including new ballgowns.”
“Yes, and I’m quite excited about that.” After existing for ten years with dresses the number of which she could count on one hand, the fact she would have so many choices for different activities still managed to stagger her mind. She briefly touched her upswept hair that sparkled with combs that were encrusted with tiny diamond chips, then she pinched her cheeks to put a bit of color into her pale face. “I should go.”
Ruth nodded. She bestowed a maternal smile on her. “My dear, you are simply a breath of fresh air in this household. And that husband of yours will make certain the gaps in your societal education are filled.”
She frowned. “Because he’s ashamed of me or my past?”
“No, dear, because he is privileged to have you as his duchess.” The maid smiled. “You shall see that for yourself in time, I think.”
“I hope you’re right.” With a wave, Mallory left the comfort of her suite, and when she arrived in the drawing room, three pairs of eyes rested on her, making her feel ill-at-ease and like a bumpkin all over again. “Good evening,” she managed to force from her tight throat. “I apologize for my tardiness.”
A woman with brown hair and an easy smile glided over the floor toward her. “There is no need to apologize, Your Grace. Don’t you know that an event never begins until the duchess arrives?”
Immediately, Mallory relaxed. “What a lovely sentiment. Please, I don’t wish for formality. Refer to me as Mallory.”
“A pretty name indeed.” The countess linked their arms. “I simply cannot wait for you to attend our rout tomorrow night. It shall be such fun, and I’m told a few of the other rogues and their wives will be there.” Then they joined the men, and her new friend winked. “This is my husband, Baselford. Don’t take anything he says seriously, for he is quite a joker when he’s at ease with his friends.”
“At this point in my life, I would rather laugh. I’ve had far too much sadness and hopeless days.” She had no idea if her husband had told his friends of her past, but she couldn’t take the statement back now. As if her knees no longer would support her, Mallory quickly sat, prompting the others in the room to do the same.
“You are an old soul, aren’t you, duchess?” Baselford said with a hearty grin. The depths of his eyes spoke of secrets and challenges, which made her want to trust him that much more.
“I have seen more than my fair share of... life let’s say.” As she spoke, Strathfield moved to stand next to her. Briefly, he touched a hand to the small of her back before leading her to a low sofa. That contact sent tingles of want down her spine. “Thank you for the invitation to your rout tomorrow. I’m both excited and terrified at the prospect.” Another bout of nerves assailed her. She had never been in society in any capacity. Now even as a duchess, she felt at every moment that she was little more than a bumbling idiot. What if she disappointed Strathfield or destroyed her marriage before it ever had a chance?
“Well then, Mallory, you’ll fit in just fine with the rogues and their wives,” the countess said with a smile as she threw a glance to her husband. “All of us have been through some sort of trauma... or are still going through it.” Her smile faded a bit. “None of us survive without a few scrapes and scars, especially these days.”
“Be that as it may, I’m trying my best, and I hope not to fail.”
Nathaniel glanced at her with a frown. “None of us expect unattainable perfection. Least of all from our spouses.”
The countess nodded. “That very imperfection is usually what drew us all together in the first place.”
She nodded, for she didn’t trust her voice.
Baselford cleared his throat. “Since you aren’t very social these days, Strathfield, did you know that Broadmoor and his wife are expecting their first child in the next few weeks?”
“What?” Surprise reflected on her husband’s face. “That’s wonderful. I’m surprised they wanted her confinement to take place in London.”
The countess smiled. “They are quite progressive, and him especially ever since he married. I’m going to call on the duchess tomorrow. The poor thing has suffered the loss for a couple of secret hopes before this pregnancy stuck, and I understand that all too well.” A tiny waver interrupted her tone. “She is inspiring to me.”
“Ah.”
Did that mean the countess had difficulties conceiving as well? To that end, would Strathfield ever change his mind on that thought, especially after what had occurred between them yesterday before dinner? Truthfully, she should have been appalled or disgusted about what he’d done, what he’d made her feel after fighting off the same from male workers at the asylum, but with the duke, it was somehow... different. Heat went through her cheeks. Did that mean they were a good match for each other?
There was no way of knowing, and right now, she wasn’t close enough to any of the other wives to talk about such things.
For the next half hour, a spirited conversation took place between her husband and the other couple, but she didn’t participate much because she didn’t know the people they spoke about nor the situations. And the ones who’d left town did so as a result of what her mother had done, which left her reeling in the heat of embarrassment. Would they judge her for something she’d had no hand in? Judge her for who she was related to? She only breathed a sigh of relief when the conversation moved from the rogues to the rout tomorrow evening.
When the countess touched her hand, Mallory startled. “You seem distracted. I hope you’re not worried about our little group. Eventually you’ll learn everyone’s names and you’ll make friends with many of them. So why is there a look of apprehension on your face?”
Once again, everyone’s focus was on her. Heat slapped at her cheeks. “I’m worried about your rout. I’m not sure I’ll be able to dance with any sort of conviction since I’ve been... away from society for so many years and don’t know what’s popular any longer.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that.” The countess waved away her concern. “Baselford will be happy to teach you. He’s an excellent dancer.”
“I...” As panic welled in Mallory’s chest, she glanced at Nathaniel who shrugged.
“That is entirely your decision, but I trust him.”
“Excellent!” The countess clapped her hands. She sprang to her feet, and the men followed suit. “Come, Strathfield, partner me so Mallory can watch our feet while she dances with Baselford.”
A trace of annoyance crossed the duke’s face, gone with his next blink. “I don’t’ know how good a partner I’ll be with the limp.”
“Nonsense. Stop hiding behind your infirmary. I’ll go slowly with you.”
A snort of laughter issued from both men, but it was Strathfield who asked a question of Baselford. “Has your wife always been such a managing baggage?”
The earl grinned. “Since I don’t remember how she was before I lost my memory, I can tell you this. Since we married again, she has certainly kept me in line, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Then he exchanged a look with the countess, and the heat therein caused another blush in Mallory’s cheeks.
Will I ever have such a connection with my husband?
“I am happy for you, Baselford. You deserve every good thing.” Strathfield offered her a faint grin. “I guess we’re dancing this evening.”
Suddenly, she wished she were partnering with her husband instead of the earl, only because her nerves wouldn’t settle. “Forgive me if I make a fool of myself.”
The next few minutes were spent being quickly shown the steps and hand movements of a Viennese waltz. Then she partnered the earl while the countess partnered with Strathfield. With only two couples, the dance was extremely modified, but it was enough that she wouldn’t feel so awkward at tomorrow’s rout, regardless that the steps were complicated. It was nice to switch partners, and the hand movements and brushing of fingers provided tactile stimulation. Only twice did she miss steps, but their guests didn’t fault her for it. They laughed and reassured her that everyone did at some point.
And what was more, the exercise was entertaining. For the first time in a long while, she laughed while thoroughly enjoying herself. By the time the dancing was over, Strathfield looked at her with an odd expression she couldn’t puzzle out what he meant.
When Jennings announced that dinner was ready, tendrils of cold disappointment trailed down her spine, for she’d wanted to dance with her husband. As the earl and countess preceded them across the hall to the dining room, she laid her fingers on the duke’s sleeve. “Was I not doing the steps correctly to make you study me with such a frown?”
He put his lips to the shell of her ear and whispered, “You did, but perhaps you should have another partner, for when you dance in public, you’ll need to switch.”
“How interesting.” A slow grin tugged at the corners of her lips. “Are you jealous, Strathfield, that I partnered Baselford?”
A hint of ruddy color went up his neck. “Of course not. He is a friend.”
Did that mean he had no feelings at all for her?
“Perhaps after dinner you’ll dance with me.”
Her eyebrows went up in surprise. “Do you wish to push your injury?”
“Somehow, I believe it will be worth it.”
D inner was a spirited affair full of conversation that made her think and so much laughter that her sides ached. Witnessing her husband interacting with people who were obviously friends made her see him in a different light, and she adored that he was such a popular person within the ton .
Eventually, the Earl and Countess of Baselford made their exit with promises of more fun to come tomorrow evening. As soon as Mallory was left alone with the duke, he waggled his eyebrows at her.
“Do you still feel like dancing with me?”
A host of tingles tripped down her spine. “Yes.” The word came out more breathless than she’d intended, but after the evening she’d just spent, she was floating on a cloud of happiness. Finally, after so many years, it felt as if she might belong somewhere despite who her mother was.
“So do I.” But his wince as he set his cane against a sofa in the drawing room said otherwise. However, the moment he took her into his arms, that discomfort vanished, and anticipation reflected in his brown eyes. “This will be a Continental style waltz.”
She frowned. “What is the difference?”
“It’s much more physical, and we don’t exchange partners.”
“Oh!” As he set them into motion, she rather liked being held close to his body. After that kiss from yesterday, she wanted another taste of such intimacy, which was odd because she had been repulsed by such advances at the asylum. With him, it was different, and she was married to him...
The steps to this waltz were different but not complicated. It was one of those dances that one could converse with their partner while performing the steps. As Nathaniel hummed the notes of a song with a pretty melody, she was further sucked beneath his spell. He led her around the groupings of furniture in the room, and with each turn, her skirts twisted about her legs and his. The brush of their bodies held a sensual edge she adored while heightening the awareness she already had for him.
Eventually, she realized they no longer made circles about the room. Instead, they barely moved together in small, tight turns, and as she peered up into his face, she caught her breath at the stark need pooling in his darkening eyes. Oddly, her heartbeat accelerated with a want she hardly understood, but knew only that he held the answer.
“This was lovely. I don’t know which style of waltz I prefer.”
“I know what you mean, and for me, it is all dependent on one’s partner.” He gave her a grin that crinkled the delicate skin at the corners of his eyes. “You are quite elegant in your movements; I know you will do well tomorrow night.”
She gave into a shiver of either need or apprehension, it was difficult to say. “I hope you’re right. Do you promise you’ll not leave me to be with your friends or visit the gaming tables?” Assuming those were even in evidence. Her knowledge was severely limited.
“I do, but you’ll be a singular sensation and won’t need me. In fact, I’ll wager you won’t lack for partners once the dancing is underway.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that.” With a frown, Mallory rested a palm against his chest. What would he look like sans clothing? “Tell me the truth, Strathfield. Do you think I’m inadequate to be your duchess? The last thing I want to do is embarrass you or make you resent me. Yes, our marriage is one of convenience, but I’d like to fulfil my position to the best of my ability.”
“Aw, Mallory.” When he cupped her cheek, she reeled from the romance of the gesture. “I believe you are exactly where you need to be at this moment, and I have every confidence in you. Never could you embarrass me, and as the countess said earlier of Twinsfield’s wife, you are an inspiration to me.” His Adam’s apple bobbed with a hard swallow. “The way you survived all that you did—and I know you haven’t told me everything—and yet you still strive to be a good person... I am in awe.”
“What a lovely thing to say.” And suddenly, those girlish dreams she’d always had of love and romance came dancing back through her mind.
“It’s true.” He drew the pad of his thumb along her bottom lip, then watching her the whole time, he dipped his head and fit his mouth to hers. Pulling a hairsbreadth away, he waited for her permission to continue, which was endearing, especially after what they’d done yesterday.
Perhaps she was naught but a ninny, but she nodded and curled her fingers into the lapels of his tailcoat, and when he kissed her again, flutters went through her lower belly at the tenderness in the embrace. Unlike that kiss from yesterday, this one wasn’t frantic or raw. Instead, he treated her to gentle exploratory kisses as if he wished to introduce himself to her all over again in a different way, perhaps in a way that would make more of an impact. In that one meeting of mouths, she found understanding and compassion in this man along with safety and protection. Beyond that, he’d ignited tiny fires in her blood, invited her to explore more of the carnal aspects of their marriage. Together, all of it was heady indeed with the heat of desire and a longing she didn’t quite understand, but she wanted to pursue.
Several moments passed as they indulged in the romantic, gentle kissing that demanded nothing but gave everything. Perhaps in this way it was easier to communicate than using words, and it was the most beautiful part of the day. By the time they pulled away, a shuddering sigh escaped her, and she felt a new connection between them.
“Thank you, Strathfield.” Offering a shy smile, she dipped her head before raising her gaze again. “I enjoyed myself this evening. Oddly enough, I can’t wait to meet more of your friends, so that I understand exactly what you are fighting for—what we are fighting for against my mother.”
“I think we can arrange that.” He raised one of her hands to his lips and kissed the back. “Do you feel like retiring now or would you enjoy lingering here with me awhile?”
“Lingering here sounds lovely, and I would like to sip on some Madeira as well.” Perhaps he would read to her from the copy of One Thousand and One Nights she’d found in the library that told the tale of how a woman told a sultan a thrilling tale every night to stave of execution in Arabia, for she adored the timbre of his voice.
“Good. I would rather like that too.” This time, when he grinned, it illuminated his features, and a queer little tickle went through her heart.
Oh, dear. What if I don’t want our marriage to be one of convenience any longer?