A Hint of Scandal (21 page)

Bella decided that she was going to enjoy herself this evening. In an odd, detached way, some of the excitement permeating the room transmitted itself to her, and she was enjoying the never-before-seen spectacle of the fashionables at play.

So this was the duke’s world, she thought as she unfolded her fan and began to wave it in a desultory manner. After handing her invitation to the majordomo, she moved forward without a pause.

“Her Grace, the Duchess of Westlake.”

She heard this announcement above the din, just as she reached her mother-in-law.

“Good evening, your grace,” Bella said, raising her voice a little so that she might be heard over the laughter and chatter that surrounded them.

Only, to Bella’s surprise, the chatter had ceased. After the noise a moment ago, this sudden silence was like an explosion.

Catching herself midstride, Bella looked around curiously, wondering what had just occurred. She was instantly confused and startled to see several hundred pairs of eyes aimed directly at her. Standing next to her mother-in-law, Bella found herself frozen where she stood. She could not imagine why they were all staring at her. She had the overwhelming urge to wipe her nose, in case a smut had found its way there.

The dowager smoothly stepped forward and slipped her arm through the arm of her stunned young daughter-in-law.

“Keep your chin high, my girl. We shall take a very leisurely turn around the room and meet a few notables,” the dowager said in a very low voice, without disturbing the elegant half smile on her lips.

Taking a deep breath, Bella gave a slight nod to the dowager’s plan, and the two ladies moved forward.

First the dowager presented Lord Edgeton. He greeted
her very correctly, but Bella noticed he had the same condescending expression his wife’s face bore.

Next, Louisa stepped forward eagerly, the duke of Malverton in tow.

“My dear sister! I wish you to know my darling Malverton!” she gushed with great pride. Bella was touched by the genuine smile Lady Louisa beamed upon her.

Bella turned her own smile to the young duke. The Duke of Malverton, without so much as a word, made a passable leg to Bella while Louisa continued to chatter.

“Oh, I am beyond pleased that you are here! My ball would not be complete if you had not arrived, though we did have someone faint earlier! I told you my ball would be a complete crush! I was starting to worry, as it is getting late, and you still had not arrived. But my worry was for nothing, because you are now here. You look breathtaking! What an unusual shade your gown is. Is our new duchess not breathtaking, Malverton? Of course she is—my brother would not have it any other way, would he?”

“Louisa,” the dowager cut in with just a hint of sharpness to her tone, “we must not monopolize Arabella.”

Lady Louisa was undaunted.

“Of course, Mama. You must go meet everyone, and we will have a good coze later,” Louisa said before turning to those waiting in line to wish her happy.

“Heavens!” the duchess said as they moved away from her youngest daughter. “That child never knows when to stubble it.”

Bella was so taken aback by this comment she laughed aloud, thus giving everyone still staring at her the impression that the mysterious Duchess of Westlake was on the best of terms with her formidable mother-in-law.

The dowager led Bella to a small group of people, and presented Lord and Lady Sefton, Lady Cowper, and Sir John Mayhew.

Bella was about to curtsy, but the firm hand of the dowager on her elbow brought her to her senses. Bella threw a quick, grateful glance to the dowager. With so many eyes upon her, she would have burned up with embarrassment if it could have been reported that the Duchess of Westlake had been seen curtsying to those of a lower rank!

“My dear Duchess,” Sir John crooned in a very supercilious voice, “you have us all aghast at your person. There have been so many rumors floating around town, few of us believed you to be real.”

Looking at the elegant, sophisticated people in front of her, Bella felt completely out her depth, and could come up with no witty rejoinder.

“How lucky for Westlake that your grace is real,” Lord Sefton smoothly inserted into the silence.

Bella smiled gratefully to the handsome lord, just as the dowager pulled her away.

“I must introduce my daughter-in-law to a few others; you will forgive us,” the dowager said breezily.

“Arabella, you must have something to say for yourself, or everyone will think you are a nodcock,” the duchess whispered when they were out of earshot of the group.

“I am sorry, ma’am. I have not been much in Society, and then only in Mabry Green.” Bella felt the beginnings of a blush as she tried to explain.

“Well, pretend you are back there. What did you talk of in Mabry Green?” The duchess’s impatient tone belied the correct smile she wore.

“We would often discuss books, or my father’s research in Roman archeology. Sometimes we translate Latin phrases as sort of a game,” Bella offered.

The dowager drew back from Bella with a look of growing horror. “Archaeology? Latin? Heavens, my girl, you are not a bluestocking, are you?”

Bella thought the dowager’s tone implied
leper
, instead of
bluestocking.

“I do not believe that the fact that I enjoy learning should be so shocking,” Bella replied.

“Oh, don’t bristle, my dear. There is nothing wrong with learning; just don’t admit to too much of it,” the dowager advised. “There are Margaret and Mrs. Drummond Burrell,” the dowager continued. “At least you know Margaret. Let’s try this again, my girl.”

As they moved through the crowd, Bella changed her mind. She was not going to enjoy this evening after all. Her homesickness grew, and with a little throb in her heart she
longed for her Mabry Green, where no one looked down his nose at her.

After Mrs. Drummond Burrell was presented, Margaret greeted Bella as if they were long-lost friends. Bella responded with a little less enthusiasm to the petite redhead.

“Finally!” Mrs. Drummond Burrell said, examining Bella keenly. “The mysterious Duchess of Westlake! The town is agog at the news. But why do we not have the pleasure of his grace’s company also?”

Looking at the avidly curious expression on Mrs. Drummond Burrell’s arrogant face, Bella desperately wished she had stayed at Westlake House this evening.

Glancing around the crowded room before she answered, Bella was gratified to catch sight of Triss and her aunt speaking with Lady Louisa and Malverton. Triss, at least, looked as if she were having a fine time.

“My husband was called away to Derbyshire, but should come to town any day now,” she finally responded with the fib she had used to appease her aunt and the dowager.

“Derbyshire?” Margaret tittered, and cast what Bella could only describe as a sly smile to Mrs. Drummond Burrell. “Does not Lady Helen Bingley live in Derbyshire?”

By the way the dowager stiffened at her side, Bella took it that there was some significance to Margaret’s question.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, Lady Helen does live in Derbyshire,” Mrs. Drummond Burrell agreed with alacrity. “And I have yet to see her in town this Season.”

Bella raised one arched brow and looked at the ladies coldly. It was obvious to her what they were suggesting. Bella again thought of the notes she had found in the duke’s waistcoat. Was that why he had been so long in Derbyshire—to meet one of the authors of the tryst notes?

Her heart thudded dully at this conclusion. How had everything in her life gotten so mixed-up and confusing?

As soon as she returned to Westlake House she would write the duke again, and demand that he grant her an annulment. She did not care what he said this time, she thought, thankful that her temper was rising. She would not be dissuaded, even though she was unclear on how to even go about obtaining an annulment.

She was just about to turn from the ladies without a word when the noise from the hundreds of guests reduced by half again.

What now?
Bella wondered, turning to look toward the entryway with everyone else.

There, standing by Lord and Lady Edgeton, were the striking Duke and Duchess of Severly. Bella’s heart lifted a bit as she recalled their kindness to her in Mabry Green after the ceremony.

The Duke of Severly was speaking to someone Bella could not see. A moment later, the person blocking her view moved and Bella saw an extremely handsome man.

He was very tall, very tan, and fit-looking, and the expression on his face revealed complete boredom as he surveyed the assemblage. His black evening coat fit his broad shoulders snugly, and his sparkling white neckcloth was splendid in its mathematical symmetry.

Suddenly Bella sucked in her breath.

“There is my son now,” the dowager duchess stated in a tone of great satisfaction.

B
ella could not take her eyes from Westlake. He looked so different; it was no wonder that she had not immediately recognized him.

Gone was the pallor she had grown used to, and he had also gained back some of the weight he had lost during his illness, which enhanced the air of authority emanating from him.

Bella realized the main reason she found him so unrecognizable was the bored, worldly expression he wore. She could not recall seeing that particular look during his stay at her home.

Bella continued to watch him from across the ballroom floor as the duke took a few strides into the room. A number of guests approached, and he seemed to greet them all politely as his gaze still scanned the crowd.

Without a word, Bella moved away from Margaret and Mrs. Drummond Burrell, putting more space between her and the duke. A feeling of trepidation mixed with nervous excitement engulfed her at his unexpected appearance.

At least most of the assemblage was no longer staring at her, Bella thought with a little relief.

The two footmen standing by the entryway moved in unison to close the double doors and caught her attention. A moment later Bella heard the orchestra play the opening strains of a minuet.

Lady Louisa and the Duke of Malverton, both with
beaming smiles, took the dance floor and started the minuet alone. After they made a few graceful steps, several other couples joined them on the parquet.

Bella’s eyes went back to the duke’s tall frame as he continued to work his way through the crowd milling on the edge of the dance floor.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, Bella stepped away from the relative safety of her vantage point and moved to join Aunt Elizabeth and Triss.

“Bella, have you seen?” Triss questioned as Bella reached her side. “The duke is here! Doesn’t he look madly dashing?”

“Yes, he does,” Bella said, as she continued to track his movements across the room.

He stopped to stand beneath the large crystal chandelier, slowly turning his head to take in the entire room.

Bella knew that he would see her any second now, for she was sure he was looking for her. Still, when his gaze finally found hers, the expression in his slightly narrowed eyes sent a shock through her veins. Standing rooted to the floor between her aunt and cousin, Bella tried to decipher the look in his eyes as he slowly strode toward her. Surprise? Anger? It was hard to know. He had almost reached them, and Bella was trying to catch hold of her runaway heartbeat. Could it be possible that she was wed to this handsome near-stranger?

“Good evening, Lady Penninghurst,” the duke intoned after a brief salute to her aunt’s hand. “Lady Triss, how many hearts have you broken so far?” he asked, turning to her cousin. Triss only giggled at his compliment.

Bella released the breath she had not realized she’d been holding, and met his gray gaze, again noticing the tiny green flecks around the irises.

His gaze swept down her form, taking in her new blush-colored gown, and moving back up again. He then surveyed her new hairstyle.

“Good evening, Arabella,” he said softly. “I almost did not recognize you.”

Recovering a little from feeling overset, Bella could not help smiling at his unexpected words.

“I could say the same to you, your grace,” she replied.

He then offered his arm without a word, and after the merest hesitation Bella laid her fingers through the crook of his elbow. The duke excused them both to her aunt and Triss, and led her away.

As soon as they had taken a few steps, Bella was again aware of how many eyes were drawn to them, though the duke seemed to take no notice.

Westlake deftly guided her through the throngs of guests across the room to a set of open French doors that Bella had not noticed before. Seconds later they were on a garden terrace with only the low illumination from the chandeliers in the ballroom lighting their way.

The duke obviously knew his way around, for he took her straight to a bench, where he stopped and turned to face her.

She felt, more than saw, his eyes upon her in the dimness as she listened to the distant notes of a waltz. But he said nothing.

“I hope you are well, your grace,” she managed to say.

“Completely recovered, thank you.”

“And your business in Derbyshire went well?” she asked, wondering again about the implication Margaret and Mrs. Drummond Burrell had made about his trip.

“Yes, very satisfactorily,” he replied succinctly.

“Is there any news on the highwaymen? Have they been apprehended yet?”

“No. Not yet. But I am confident they will be. In fact, that is why I was away longer than I had intended. I had to take care of some matters regarding the attack.”

Bella was gratified to hear this; she hated the idea of the men who had shot the duke being at large. Moving a few steps away from the duke’s disturbing nearness, she took a moment to sit down on the bench and take a couple of fortifying breaths of the cool night air. There was so much she wanted to discuss with him, but she found herself unable to formulate her words properly. Even though it had been more than six weeks since they had been compelled to wed, Bella still felt it hard to accept that this formidable nobleman was her husband—even if it was in name only.