Page 34 of Pride of Valor
At his sharp intake of breath, she added, “I know you love her, but you do understand the two of you can never be together.” After that pronouncement, she bounced to her feet and walked to the edge of the balcony at the front of the family box. She untied her cape and threw it to the floor, shaking out her long hair which was held back with just a single, elaborate carved ivory comb. When she bent over the edge of the balcony in her diaphanous costume, Richard wished he could go outside and dig a hole deep enough to hide in and pull the dirt in after him.
Damn Sidmouth, and damn the whole English aristocracy.
Just as he rose to try to coax the old duchess back out of full view of the local gentry, he heard Sidmouth’s voice boom in the hallway outside the door to the theatre box. At that, he sat back down and waited for her grandson to decide how to finesse her away from the rail.
Harriet struggledto take in the peculiar scene inside the family box. Nana leaned precariously over the balcony edge in a dress that would be scandalous even as a night chemise. Since Sidmouth seemed frozen at Nana’s latest antics, she walked slowly toward her grandmother and clasped her hand to pull her back to her chair. Richard, meanwhile, sat in stony silence. She could only wonder at what had transpired before they got there.
Nicholas pulled a chair close to Nana and bent low, whispering something in her ear. She quieted immediately and didn’t argue with Sidmouth when he retrieved her cape from the floor. He wrapped it with care around her shoulders before joining his wife in the shadows at the rear of the box.
When Harriet leaned toward Richard and gave him a tentative tap on the shoulder, he did not move, or acknowledge her presence. She shoved her chair closer so that she could look into his face in the light of the candles in the box.
“Thank you,” she mouthed, and then straightened and left him in peace. She didn’t blame him for his pique. Her entire family had been a trial tonight. He didn’t return her glance, but in a slow move, covered her hand with his.
She and Lady Jane had determined that since the afternoon had already unraveled, the trip back to the lodge that evening would be impossible. By the time they could settle Nana and put their proposal to Mr. Algernon, after the night’s three presentations, the road along the bluffs would be deadly dark. They had sent word to Pearce’s to arrange for rooms, servants, and a late supper for their party for the night.
The good news about Nana’s unexpected entrance was that few people would be talking about the new duchess of Sidmouth arriving without her husband. Now, the loud gossip in the small theatre seemed to center more on the mysterious Royal Marine and Nana’s outrageous, filmy dress. Just as she was congratulating herself on the minimal damage, she looked up in time to see her former mother-in-law, the Dowager Marchioness of Blandford, eyeing her, and undoubtedly Richard as well, through opera glasses from the box across from them. Seated directly next to her was her late husband’s odious brother, Julian, who seemed to be pestering his mother to share the glasses.
Harriet gritted her teeth. She would force herself to visit their box during one of the intermissions to inquire after the spiteful woman’s health. She would avoid engaging Julian in conversation, as she still considered him beneath contempt. And, somehow, she’d have to keep Richard from discovering the identity of the man glaring at them.
That hope died immediately when Nicholas caught sight of his uncle and raced to her side, crouching on the floor next to her.
The moment Richard realized who the man glaring at them might be, he clenched a fist and made as if to rise out of his chair. Harriet clamped a hand on his forearm and forced him back down.
“Don’t,” was all she said. “Please, don’t.”
Richard was wonderinghow much more he could take of this farce when the curtain finally rose on the first act of “Othello.”
Sidmouth gave everyone an imperious look and said, “Let’s get through this and pretend they’re not over there.” He motioned to Nicholas to come to him and gathered the boy onto his lap, ignoring the child’s lapse of putting his thumb in his mouth. His duchess patted Nicholas’s shoulder and gave her husband a look as if she were seeing him for the first time.
Harriet’s back was rigid with something he couldn’t quite place. Not fear, certainly. Anger would be closer to what he saw in every line of her face and body. He wanted to do something, anything, like plant a facer on her former, smug brother-in-law. But he couldn’t, because it was not his place.
Here, in the company of the people who had surrounded her before he’d fallen into those deep green eyes, reality finally seeped into his thick skull. She and Nicholas were not his to protect. She was not his to love. Thank God they had Sidmouth. Richard would see them through the theatricals that night and the inevitable aftermath, but then he’d return to his ship, and his men, where he belonged.
At the first intermission, Harriet stood and moved to Sidmouth’s side. They seemed to argue for a few minutes, and then she sat back down, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes.
When Nana stood, threw off her cape and made as if she were going to leave the box to mingle with the rest of the audience, Richard finally saw something he could do to help. He went to her side and asked, “Your Grace-please let me escort you downstairs for a glass of lemonade.”
When she relented and gave him her hand, he deftly stooped to scoop up her discarded cape and swirled it around her frail shoulders. He had no idea what she might do once they were outside the family’s box seats, but Sidmouth had his hands full with Nicholas, and Harriet was in no state of mind to deal with her cranky, erratic Nana.
Once they were in the rear hallway behind the boxes, he relied on candelabras placed on wide wall sconces with lit candles and minders from the theatre staff. The small theatre obviously had seen better times, so the candles seemed to be rationed, and he chafed at the slow going in the shadows with the unpredictable elderly actress. He hoped Harriet didn’t defy Sidmouth and venture out on her own. Anything could happen to a woman alone in those deep shadows. He had to bring himself up short again with the stark reminder: She was not his to protect. But by damn, no one had better touch her without her consent. He had no idea what he might do if that happened. His own Marine Captain Neville might have to clap him in irons in the ship’s brig.
When out of the dark, a sudden shape materialized. Richard immediately went on the offense until he realized up close the man was as frail and elderly as Nana.
“Is it you, Dora? It’s me, John. Remember that night at the White Horse? You were wonderful.” He bowed low and reached toward one of her hands.
Richard stiffened and had a split second to decide how to respond. Christ, but he wished he were back aboard his ship.
Harriet sat quietly and stewed.She’d been woefully unprepared for her son’s reaction to his uncle. After taking care of herself and Nicholas for so long, she’d forgotten how terrified he’d been when Julian had snatched him away from Bocollyn while she was in Belgium nursing Charles through his final days. Although the thought chafed at her, she understood how much safer her son must feel tonight, enclosed in Sidmouth’s arms on his lap.
Her husband’s brother rarely ventured into Falmouth. He spent most of his time in London, at clubs, gambling dens, and brothels. She hated to think of what he was up to now. She’d have to write to Walter Remington, their steward for the Blandford Estate. He’d promised to keep her abreast of what was going on at Bettany Abbey, but she hadn’t heard from him in over a month. She wondered why he hadn’t warned her of Julian’s return from London.
Harriet hated to think Richard, the very man she’d come to rely on in such a short period of time, might be the reason the Dowager Marchioness of Blandford and her son had decided to attend the theatre tonight. She’d known from the start there would be gossip, but she hadn’t counted on the rapid spread of rumors to reach her late husband’s family quite so fast.
She couldn’t deny, or regret, how Richard had stormed into her heart, warming a place she’d long thought frozen, but now, she had Nicholas to consider. She refused to let him become a casualty of her in-laws’ animosity toward her. She knew what she had to do. She’d ask Sidmouth to help her mend fences with Viscount Grantham and marry the man so that she and Nicholas could have a safe, respectable home. She could not afford to succumb to an unwise passion for an Irish Marine who would be sailing off to Africa in two weeks. That way lay madness.
Sidmouth spoke close to her ear, and she snapped around, her eyes wide. “Come with me,” he mouthed. When she turned to check on Nicholas, he was sound asleep in Lady Jane’s arms, his thumb in his mouth. Captain Thorne had moved close to the duchess and watched over Harriet’s son. When she followed her cousin through the rear door to the box, she saw his coachmen flanked the entrance. He must have sent for them when she wasn’t looking. They were tall, burly men, and she noticed pistols tucked into their belts. In that moment she loved Sidmouth and leaned into his side for support.
She’d forgotten in all of the tension of the last hour that Richard had escorted Nana out of the box when she’d become fidgety and threatened mutiny. The nerves in her stomach clenched when she considered all the ways her grandmother could have caused a commotion and gotten away from him by now.