Page 23 of Twelfth Night Sorcery (The Cambion Club #2)

Valance took a perverse pleasure in being seen by Belmont with Lady Valance by his side.

They saw a good deal of him, too, because it had dawned on Valance that a girl who had never before been to London would probably enjoy exploring the theater, the opera, and the occasional private party.

Consequently, he began to squire his wife about town, which gave him the opportunity to spend time with her without his mother always on hand.

It further served the purpose of showing the ton that the new Lady Valance had the manners and deportment of a true lady.

Valance had nothing to be ashamed of, and he was quite happy to let the world know it.

He continued to take her on drives in Hyde Park.

It really was the best place to meet people during daylight hours, and though Valance was not a renowned whipster, he was both fond of his horses and proud of his ability to navigate London traffic.

If Lady Valance was impressed by his ability to drive, though, she never remarked on it.

He had, he realized, absolutely no idea what his wife thought about him.

She might, for all he knew, hold him in the greatest dislike and merely be good at hiding her feelings.

Some women were quite good at dissembling, and no wonder—society practically required it of them.

Women were expected to build and maintain social connections, and doing so must often mean treating people they did not like as if they were good friends.

He hoped his wife was not dissembling when she cheerfully told him that she liked driving in the park with him.

By their third drive, Honora recognized some of the people they met, and others seemed eager to further their acquaintanceship with her.

His curricle stopped to exchange greetings so often Valance thought they might be stuck in the park for hours.

Valance would not have minded this, except for the fact that a large percentage of those wanting to greet Honora were personable young men, some of them much better looking than himself.

He rather enjoyed their occasional encounters with Belmont, because they gave Valancean excuse to be rude to someone.

He could not insult perfectly decent men like William Biddleton or Lord Harvey, no matter how much he disliked the admiring looks they gave his wife.

But every time they saw Belmont, Valance gave him the cut direct, driving past the duke as if he did not even recognize him. It was immensely satisfying.

“Are you always this popular?” he asked after one particularly busy afternoon at the park.

Honora laughed softly. “Only until people get to know me better. Then I either annoy them with improper questions or bore them by talking about books they haven’t read.

After that they usually stop paying so much attention to me.

” Her expression sobered. “Though that wasn’t enough to drive Belmont away. ”

“You need not worry about him,” Valance said confidently.

“He cannot harm you now.” And if he so much as tried, Valance would shoot him without the least compunction.

He almost wished the duke would try something that would justify demanding satisfaction.

Valance was not normally murderous by nature, but men like Belmont ought not be allowed to live.

*

He gradually discovered that Lady Valance was not joking about the way people reacted to her questions and her extensive reading.

She did have a habit of startling people with unexpected questions.

But he also realized those aspects of her personality were related.

Many of her questions stemmed not from ignorance or naivety, but from intelligence.

She was intensely curious about the world and wanted to understand more of it.

Had she been a man, she might have become a naturalist or a scholar.

Many people might have thought these traits were out of place in a woman, but Valance was used to living with people who were a little out of the ordinary.

In her own way, Lady Valance was every bit as erudite as Abigail Carrington.

She did not share Abigail’s bent toward politics, and she showed no symptoms of wanting to write letters to newspaper editors or publish essays on human rights.

Nor did she write poetry, as Susan Taylor did.

But she read widely, thought about what she read, and asked questions.

Quite often, Valance did not know enough about the subject to answer her questions.

One day, he took her to the British Museum, thinking she would like to explore the imperial treasures there. And she did. But she also asked rather pointed questions about the means by which the treasures had been acquired and whether their original owners had given them up voluntarily.

When they explored the Elgin Marbles, Lady Valance’s comments ceased being questions and became outright condemnations.

She shared Lord Byron’s opinion that the marbles ought not have been removed from their rightful place in the Parthenon.

Other museum goers who overhead their conversation began giving them strange looks.

“What would you have the Crown do?” Valance demanded. “Send the marbles all the way back? Do you really think the Ottomans would care for them this well?” He waved a hand at the famous display. “I am sure the British public appreciates this art the way it deserves.”

“I don’t know,” Lady Valance said somberly. “But I do not think admiring an object gives one the right to take it.” She scrunched up her face in disgust. “That is the way men like Belmont think.”

Valance sighed. He felt more confident having an intellectual debate about art rather than discussing personal matters.

As much as he would have dearly loved to thrash Belmont for the way he’d treated the former Miss Grantly, that would not heal her obvious emotional injuries.

Valance had no idea what would heal them, and he feared saying or doing something that might make things worse.

“Marble cannot think or feel,” he reminded his wife. “These statues and friezes do not mind being appropriated. It is not at all the same as human beings.”

“But they were made by human beings,” she retorted, “and there might have been people in Athens who cared deeply about them. I would hate it if someone came to Grantly Manor and stole our family portraits because they wanted to hang them on their own walls. Not that I will ever see Grantly Manor again.” She dropped her gaze and her face took on a mournful cast. Belmont was not the only person who had hurt her.

Eager to distract her, Valance offered her what he knew most of London considered a treat. “Why don’t we leave here and go to Gunter’s?”

“It is too cold for ices today,” she protested. “I had rather go home and have a cup of chocolate.”

“Then by all means, let us do that, my dear.” He offered her his arm, eager to get her away from all reminders of her distress.

*

Unfortunately, chocolate and biscuits did little to help Lady Valance.

She nibbled a biscuit, took a few sips of chocolate, and excused herself.

Valance let her go, then wondered if he’d made a mistake.

The look on her face worried him. After he drained the last of his own drink, he followed her upstairs.

He found her in her bedroom, sitting in a chair and staring at the wall. He approached cautiously. “My lady? Is something wrong?”

She looked up at him. “I was thinking about home. Grantly Manor, I mean. I wondered if the snowdrops were blooming in our south garden.”

There were no tears in her eyes, and no sign she had wept. But her voice reeked of despair. Valance wished he had Lady Grantly before him so that he could give her a piece of his mind. He stepped closer to his wife and rested his hand on the back of the chair.

“I am so very sorry, darling. Is there any way I can help?” He could not imagine what might assuage such heartache.

“I don’t think so.” If she noticed the endearment he used, she gave no sign.

She spoke in the same polite, formal voice she might have used with an acquaintance paying a morning call.

“It is very kind of you to check on me, but there is nothing I need.” She looked him in the face and made the saddest attempt at a smile he had ever seen.

The grief in her face wrung Valance’s heart, and without thinking, he leaned down to kiss her on the forehead. “You have a home here now,” he reminded her.

She rested her head against him for a too-brief moment before shifting away and smiling that cheerless smile that made his heart ache.

Valance knew her marriage to him could not replace Lady Valance’s lost family.

She had lost not merely her home, but her relationship with her three sisters and her brother, the young baronet.

She was forbidden even to write to them!

There was nothing Valance could do that would even begin to make up for such a loss.

But perhaps he should try, all the same.