Page 9 of The Broken Marchioness (Lords of Inconvenience #3)

CHAPTER NINE

“A llan, ye have nae said much,” Gerard’s words cut through the haze of champagne Allan was drinking. He turned around in his dining room which had been set up for the grand wedding breakfast, and he stared at Stephen and Gerard.

Both men were staring back at him, their eyes wide with clear questions. Allan didn’t know what to say to either of them. He knew he should have been able to say anything. After all, Stephen was his closest friend in the world, and after returning home and being introduced to Charlotte’s Scottish husband, Gerard, they had become firm friends within a matter of weeks.

He trusted Stephen and Gerard more than he did any other gentleman in this world,, but speaking his thoughts at that moment seemed impossible.

“Another drink?” Stephen offered, as if reading his mind.

“Please.” Allan held out his glass as Stephen reached for a champagne bottle behind him and topped it up.

“You have barely stopped looking at her,” Stephen pointed out.

“Did ye see the way he stared at her in the ceremony?” Gerard said quietly.

“Yes, quite fixedly. A shooter doesn’t stare at his prey that hard.

“I can hear you both, you know,” Allan pointed out.

“We know,” they said in unison.

Allan shook his head and turned to looked away again.

Across the room through the small crowd which had gathered to celebrate his wedding, Allan could see his new wife.

My wife, Frederica.

For the first time that morning she was smiling, genuinely smiling. She had been quiet in the ceremony, clearly nervous, and no amount of his comforting hand hold seemed to soften her nerves. Now that they were far away from the church, and she was sitting with Dorothy and Charlotte, she smiled with ease.

Why will she not smile that way at me?

Dorothy must have made some sort of jest as Charlotte laughed loudly, and Frederica laughed too though she raised her hand to cover her lips as if she thought she should not do it.

“Do you think she holds a fear of this world?” Allan asked his friends, thoughtfully.

“Fear?” Gerard repeated. “Ye mean the lass that is afraid to laugh and looks at her parents as if they are pointin’ a gun at her? Nay, she’s at ease with the world.” The thick, wry tone made Stephen laugh though Allan could not.

He was remembering how bold in speech Frederica had been before. Despite her shyness, he had seen that she could be witty and challenging, and he longed to see that self-assuredness resurface now, but it was as distant as the sun in the sky above.

“Remember all that has happened, Allan,” Stephen said, nudging him to get his attention again. “She ran once from scandal, and now she’s in a hurried wedding. Did you expect her to fall at your feet?”

“I never wanted that,” Allan protested.

“Happiness may take time,” Gerard said with the wisdom of a man far beyond his years. “Can ye be patient, me friend?”

“Of course, I can.” At his words though, Stephen scoffed. “What was that for?”

“No offence intended, but you are not the most patient of men.”

“Saying ‘no offence intended’ does not take away from an insult, Stephen.”

“Well, I tried.” Stephen shrugged. “Look, all is well with the world now. Already the scandal sheets published this morning are talking of another scandal. You and Frederica marrying today was an afterthought, mentioned in the back of the sheet. Maybe once no one talks of you two at all, your new wife will be much more at ease.”

“Hmm.” Allan tipped his champagne glass up to his lips. He couldn’t help thinking there was more to this.

All through the ceremony, he had examined carefully just where Frederica was looking. Repeatedly, she had stared at the church door. He wondered if she had considered running, escaping to the very place where she had been this last year. Other times, she had snuck glances at her parents.

She fears them. Despite everything they’ve been through, despite arguing back with them, she still fears them.

Allan downed the last of his champagne.

“Ye’ll be legless by the time it comes to the weddin’ night,” Gerard pointed out.

Allan abruptly put down the glass as Stephen snickered. Allan had no intention of asking Frederica to consummate this marriage at the moment. All he could think about was seeing her smile with him as she smiled with Dorothy and Charlotte.

That would be enough.

“If you’d excuse me, I need to talk to my other guests. You two are hardly helping to raise my spirits.”

“Daenae drink any spirits, too,” Gerard called after him as he walked away with Stephen still laughing beside him.

Allan cursed under his breath at his friends before quickly deciding that they had probably drunk as much as he had and weren’t thinking straight either.

Allan tried to reach his wife. He moved towards her across the room, hoping she would look at him, but before he could reach her, two people he had no wish to see stepped in the way.

“Ah, Lord Padleigh.” Frederica’s father stepped in the way, offering another one of those ridiculously deep bows which were so low, they could have broken his back. Beside him, his wife curtsied in a similarly comical way. “What a joyous occasion this is.”

“Yes, joyous,” Allan said woodenly, tempted to ask if that was the case, why had Lord and Lady Campbell not looked a little happier and prouder of their daughter.

“We must thank you for joining our two families together,” Lady Campbell said gushingly, raising her own glass of champagne to her lips. “I am sure we will be a merry family together now.”

“Merry indeed,” Allan muttered drily, something that went unnoticed by her parents. “May I ask you, why did Frederica not have bridesmaids today?”

“Oh, that,” Lord Campbell said, waving a hand dismissively. “We thought it best that she stood alone today beside you. It’s time she stood alone and bore the consequences of her actions.”

Allan’s jaw dropped.

Frederica needed support, not another act of condescension.

“I think the wedding breakfast is at an end now, wouldn’t you agree?” Allan said. He barely caught sight of Lord and Lady Campbell’s smiles slipping out of place as he swept away.

* * *

Frederica repeatedly wrung her hands together as she stood on the front step of the house, waving off her guests. Her parents had long since departed, being the first two to leave. The very last to go were Charlotte and Dorothy, who were still standing on the driveway, not climbing into their carriages in any hurry.

“Charlotte, come on, lass,” Gerard said, waiting inside the carriage.

“Write to me,” Charlotte called to Frederica, waving animatedly as she waved back.

“Dorothy,” Stephen looked quite ready to pick up his wife and carry her into their carriage. “Do you intend to move back in with your brother and his new wife, or can we go home?”

“Don’t be impatient,” Dorothy said. “I’m saying goodbye to my friend.” She turned back to call up to Frederica as Stephen took her hand and practically dragged her back to the carriage, “I’ll come and see you soon.”

“See you soon,” Frederica called back.

“Give the pair some peace, Dorothy.” Stephen’s words were only just caught by Frederica on the wind. “They need it as a married couple.”

Frederica’s hand dropped to her side as the carriages moved away. She stood numbly on the step, unsure what to do now. It was only after the final carriage had left that she caught sight of her new husband.

Lord Padleigh, or Allan as he had asked her to call him in the ceremony, waved off the carriage and moved from the driveway toward her on the step.

“How about a tour?” he said suddenly with a much more relaxed smile than he had worn all morning.

“A tour?” she murmured, not because she had misheard him but because she was so baffled by this change of manner.

“Come, I wish you to see your new home. I’ll show it to you.” He gestured for her to follow him. “First, how about the garden?”

Frederica stepped off the front stoop and moved to follow him. There was a curiousness in her now, a need to see who this version of Allan was.

“Here’s the formal garden.” He moved around the side of the property where they were faced with a wall of yew bushes. He reached for a gate and pushed it open.

Frederica moved to follow him, stepping through the gate where she found herself met with a world of colorful roses.

She had seen the house before, of course, when she had visited Dorothy, but she had not been to every part of it. Usually when she came to see Dorothy, they went to the library or walked the wider estate. This formal rose garden was a part she had never seen before.

“There’s a Palladian beyond the garden here,” Allan walked on with sudden purpose, and Frederica raced to catch up with him. “Walk around this part of the house, and you’ll find more formal borders with a pond.” Like his shadow, she followed him, her senses full of the roses, their scents wafting up to meet her pleasantly.

At the back of the house, they came across more formal borders and a large formal pond, banked with white stones and dappled with white water lilies.

Allan stood before it, smiling down at it.

“The garden means a lot to you?” Frederica asked, coming to a stop at his side.

“It’s my escape,” he explained, not looking at her but at the lilies. “Isn’t it what we all need? An escape?” He turned to face her.

She bit her lip and nodded. Honora’s house had been her escape.

“Now, for the house.” He led her inside again through a back door. She had to hitch the skirt of her column gown a little higher to aid in her walking after him so fast. “I know you know the library well, and you have of course been to the dining room this morning. Let me show you the other rooms.”

He walked through a double set of doors, the grand wood inlaid with rich white carvings. She turned her chin up to gaze in awe as they entered a room with a mural ceiling, great fireplaces, and fine ornaments that glittered in the sunlight.

“The ballroom,” he said, waving a hand toward it.

“I’ve never known you to hold a ball here.” She turned on the spot in the very middle of the room, amazed. “I didn’t even know you had a ballroom.”

“We.”

“What?” She turned to face him.

“ We have a ballroom now. What’s mine is yours, remember?” he said with a smile. She tried to return it but struggled. It was hard to think of all of this as hers when just days before she was facing being outcast from the ton entirely. “Let us move on then.” He strode away, and she raced to catch up with him again.

They passed through two parlors, a smaller breakfast room that was not as grand as the dining room and needed updating, then a music room. This chamber was somewhat sparse. Apart from a harpsichord and a rather tired-looking piano, there were no other instruments, no harp or fiddle, and no sign of any sheet music. Frederica looked around the walls; there was no art either.

This room is in need of some attention.

“You are fond of your music and art, are you not?” Allan asked, leaning on the doorframe.

She turned to face him, surprised to find that he had been watching her as intently as she had been looking at the room.

“They are your escape as mine is the garden,” he suggested. Slowly, she nodded. When she still didn’t say much, he sighed quite loudly, and she wondered if she had been the cause of it. “Let me show you the upstairs.”

He left the room swiftly once more, and she moved to follow him.

On the upper floor, he showed her the various guest chambers before taking her to a large chamber in the east wing.

It was indeed very beautiful with the best view she had yet seen. The window overlooked the pond and looked out on the wider estate. There was a fine bed that could have done with some fresh blankets, but otherwise, it was very comfortably made indeed.

“It is beautiful. Whose chamber is this?” Frederica asked, turning to admire the white-molded ceiling above her, spinning slowly on the spot.

“Yours.” His answer made her crick her neck as she looked sharply around at him.

Never had she had such a grand room. This last year at Honora’s, she had grown very used to a smaller chamber indeed.

“Through that door is my chamber.” Allan no longer smiled as he pointed at the door.

Frederica stiffened, feeling her stomach knot tightly together as she stared at the door.

He is performing. He’s picking the room he knows he should pick if we had married for another reason beyond convenience.

“Wait,” she whispered, knowing she had to say something. She shifted her weight between her feet as she looked at Allan. “Perhaps this chamber is not the right choice for me.”

“Why not?” He stepped further into the chamber. Frederica tried to stop the echoing of her heartbeat in her ears, just at the thought that her new husband was in her bedchamber. “Do you not like it?” He looked around with concern, as if he was searching for cracks or mice in the walls.

“I mean…” She paused, wringing her hands together relentlessly. “If you wished to bring someone to your chamber, then this would not be the best place for me to be. You must have your privacy if you wish to take a…” She couldn’t quite say the words. “I should move chambers.”

His expression hardened to something steely. She froze, no longer wringing her hands together, wondering what on earth she had said that was so wrong.

What happened next was all very fast.

Allan walked toward her with such purpose that she backed up quickly. She nearly tripped over the rug in her haste but managed to right herself. By the time she ended up with her back flat against the wall behind her, he had reached her.

He didn’t touch her, but stood tall and overbearing, his hands flat to the wall on either side of her.

For one wild moment, Frederica thought he might kiss her. Excitement shot through her at the thought though it fled just as quickly as it had arrived when she saw his hard expression. It was flintlike.

“I am a married man,” he said, his voice stiff. “Do you think I would actually have an affair? Take a lover now that I am married to you?”

“Why not?” she said just as quickly back. “You would not be the first man to marry for convenience and then do so. It’s natural, is it not?”

“Natural!?” he cried in clear outrage. “You think it would be natural for a man to be so cold of heart towards you? You clearly think very little of me.”

“That’s not what I said. What I meant was?—”

“That you expected me to be such a man. To be such a beast?—”

“You have married me for convenience.” A sudden confidence blazed within Frederica, and she held her chin high. “We talked before about how you should have your freedom. You told me gladly that you would take it; that you were free to do as you wished.”

“That does not mean I would bring other women constantly back to this house. To my own bed,” he spat angrily. He kept looking down at her lips. For a wild moment, she thought he would kiss her, despite being so angry, then he looked away, and she was convinced it had all been in her imagination. “Dear Lord, Frederica, think a little kindlier of me. I don’t think I’m worthy of this condescension.”

Then he was gone. All of a sudden, he was no longer that tall and impressive presence above her. He’d spun on his heel and marched away.

Frederica stared after him, unable to pull herself off the wall as she wondered why on earth she wanted Allan back again, wanted him to be standing so near with his hands so close to her.

Rather than heading back to the corridor, he took the adjoining door to his own chamber. He shut it loudly behind him, so loud that she flinched, then she heard the lock turn firmly in place.

Frederica raised a hand and covered her lips.

What sort of marriage was this going to be?