Birds of a Feather (26 page)

He resumed his pacing.

The doctor was taking forever, raising his apprehension. Had the marquess suffered yet another attack? He was on the verge of checking when the man finally appeared.

“Lord Glendale has emerged from his coma,” he announced as he joined Lady Glendale on the settee.

“Thank God!” She sagged against the back. “How long until he can rise.”

The doctor cleared his throat. “I cannot say, my lady.”

Reggie stared as Lady Glendale gasped.

“Out with it,” growled Sedge. “Suspense is inappropriate under the circumstances.”

“The seizure caused considerable damage. Though he is conscious and understands simple requests, he is unable to speak. Nor can he move his right arm or leg at the moment.” He patted Lady Glendale’s hand in an ineffectual gesture of comfort.

“Is the condition permanent?” asked Reggie.

“It is too early to tell. While many patients remain paralyzed, others improve with time. This may be a temporary annoyance while his body works on making a full recovery. Or some form of impairment might remain for the rest of his days.”

“How often does a man in his state actually recover?” demanded Sedge, irritated at the doctor’s dithering.

“I have seen it happen,” he insisted, again patting Lady Glendale’s hand. “Each case is different, so no purpose is served by comparing one to another. It is important that Lord Glendale remain calm. He is understandably frustrated over his current state. Further irritation will lessen his chances of recovery. Anger can trigger another fit, which might kill him. Do nothing to annoy him.”

Leaving them stunned, he retired to the marquess’s bedchamber.

Reggie was the first to react, reaching for his mother’s hand.

She recoiled. “How dare you pretend sympathy after causing this trouble!”

“Enough, Mother,” commanded Sedge. “We are all in shock, but that does not excuse saying something you will regret.”

“Regret?” Her voice rose to a scream as her temper shattered. “How can one regret the truth?” She glared at Reggie. “You are killing him. Your spiteful stubbornness has caused most of his spells. Last night was the final straw. How could you refuse to do your duty? It is a small price to pay for the wealth and power you will soon enjoy.” Her voice cracked, but she swept on. “You know that marriage need not curtail your other activities, yet you swore to his face that you would abandon the marquessate rather than wed. Don’t deny it,” she added as he opened his mouth. “I overheard every word. He ordered you to wed. You refused. And your language! We will become laughingstocks. Everyone heard you. You were shouting so loudly, passers-by in the square must have heard you. He would not be lying in that bed if you showed the least loyalty to your family. You heard the doctor. Only calm will allow him to recover. So give him that calm. Choose a bride so he can be at peace.”

“You are absurd, madam.” Reggie was hanging on to his own temper with difficulty.

“If anyone is absurd, it is you. Why do we have such ungrateful sons? And I do mean ungrateful,” she continued, turning her glare toward Sedge. “You are just as guilty. How dare you marry a nobody without even looks to recommend her? You have made a mockery of everything this family represents.”

“Lie down, Mother,” he said. “Your nerves have overset you.”

“Overset me!” She surged to her feet, slapping his face. “You have overset me! You are deliberately ignoring your heritage. Don’t you dare trot out that ridiculous claim that you had no choice,” she added as he stared at her in shock. “Her breeding is so base that anyone of sensibility must consider her a trollop. She is fit for nothing beyond whoring in the streets.”

“Enough, madam!”

“You must accept the truth, Sedgewick. That girl is a disgrace.”

“I said enough, madam!” Anger boiled in his chest.

“You are so stupid,” she snapped. “Why did you not wield your vaunted credit? You know very well that you could have escaped her greedy clutches. No one would have dared criticize your judgment. If you had exposed her as a grasping fortune hunter, Society would have applauded. Instead, you let her besmirch your good name. Half of Society already ridicules your judgment, and the other half questions your taste. The young men are abandoning you in droves. Your reputation is in shambles. You will be driven from town in a fortnight.”

“You exaggerate—”

“Never! And you actually had the gall to install her in my house! How can you expect me to be civil to her?” She wrung her hands. “Why did you return so soon? If only you had stayed away, Glendale could have convinced the archbishop to annul this abomination. But it can still be done. File the application, Sedgewick. Ease your father’s suffering. Restore his faith in you.”

“What the—”

She ignored his shock. “If it is too late for an annulment, at least have the decency to hide her away in the country so people can forget the stain you have placed on our name. The arrangements are already in place. And Reginald must wed immediately. We cannot allow her baseborn blood to taint the marquessate.” She turned to her oldest son. “Lady Dorothy will arrive in two days. I already have the special license. We will expect an heir within the year.”

“Absolutely not!” Reggie fisted his hands. “You have gone too far this time, madam. Way too far. Despite my repeated vows to have nothing to do with that brainless wench, you persist in pursuing an alliance. Do not deny it,” he charged over her protest. “Do you think I am stupid? Your vow that I would wed her has already done her untold harm. Her father turned down Sir Henry’s offer barely a month ago. Now you have ruined her beyond redemption, for I will not take her. Ever. I would see the marquessate revert to the crown first. And I will send her father a letter describing your unconscionable lies. You will have to live with the dishonor for the rest of your life.”

Sedge fought past the red mist that had obscured his eyes at the lengths his parents had been willing to go. If he had returned even a day later, Joanna would have been gone without a trace. “Your arrogance surpasses anything I’ve ever seen,” he growled, pushing her back on the settee and looming over her. “I will excuse your rudeness because I know you are concerned for Father’s health, but you will never utter such rot again. Your efforts to discredit Joanna have failed. She is accepted by all but your bosom bows, most of whom are reevaluating their position at this very moment, for your lies have now been exposed as the calumny they are. My credit is as firm as ever. You need a new source of gossip, by the way,” he continued, dredging up a hint of his public facade. “The only truth you have ever spoken about Joanna is that her father is a vicar. There is nothing wrong with her breeding, nor with her looks. And her virtue was never in doubt. The only thing havy-cavy about her mother’s marriage was her uncle’s hope that she would wed the older brother, but when she chose the younger, he agreed. And believing Lady Wicksfield makes you look ridiculous. The woman is a brainless schemer pursuing a personal quarrel. She has long blamed Joanna’s mother for Wicksfield’s decision to keep her in the country – a decision based solely on her own reckless spending. And she was furious when Wicksfield placed Joanna in charge of the household.”

“She has bewitched you.”

“Never.” His voice hardened. “I learned that fact from Wicksfield himself. As for your other absurdities, Joanna’s brother occasionally does odd jobs for the blacksmith, sending the proceeds to his brother at Oxford. Her father’s parishioners mourn her departure, for she was considered a saint in the community. You will either welcome her into the family or I will see that you are ostracized from Society. Is that clear?”

“How dare you speak—”

“Enough, Mother,” snapped Reggie, joining his brother to glare into her face. “You are completely out of line. Father’s illness is his own fault – or yours for summoning him to town against his doctor’s orders.”

“He had no choice if he was to protect the title.”

Sedge snorted. “He tried to protect the title by doing something he knew would kill him? How stupid can you get?”

Reggie overrode her response. “No, Mother. This has nothing to with the title. It has to do with your determination to retain your own power after he dies. You’ve a tongue like an adder, and you employ it freely. Do not think that I am ignorant of the lies you told to Father. I have seen the letters you wrote after I befriended her. You manipulated a dying man for your own ends. Your selfishness surpasses anything I have ever witnessed. But you lose. The day Father dies, you are moving out of the Close. To the dower house if you learn to keep your tongue between your teeth. To the Scottish property under guard if you don’t. Sedge is right about Joanna’s background, and all of Society knows it. Your puny lies have only made you a laughingstock. Open your eyes for once. Those two are perfect for each other. As for me, I would wed an opera dancer before accepting one of your protégées.”

Lady Glendale collapsed into hysterics, but Sedge let Reggie deal with her. His head swirled with guilt and shame.

What had he done?

Only now did he admit that his image of Joanna had been tainted from the beginning by his mother’s criticisms. Not the ones about her looks, which he had always found desirable; now that she had a decent wardrobe, she was stunning. But he had questioned her motives and flinched at her breeding more than once. Yet he had welcomed girls with even worse backgrounds into Society, and considered some of them friends. Caristoke’s wife was a case in point. Why had he parroted his mother’s judgments instead of thinking for himself? From her first tirade over Reggie’s infatuation, he had accepted her word as gospel. If only he had listened to Reggie! But he had been so furious over being compared to Crossbridge that he had rejected any hint that he might also be jumping to erroneous conclusions.

His antagonism had not helped Joanna. She knew he hated being forced. And leaving her to his mother’s mercy while he visited Wicksfield could not have been pleasant.

Reggie was making little headway.

“Leave me alone!” his mother shouted. “What did I ever do to deserve such wretched sons? If Glendale dies, I will never forgive you!” Slapping Reggie’s hand aside, she stormed out of the room.

Glendale’s door slammed behind her.

Sedge flinched. Temper had bested them all, prompting words none of them would easily forget.

* * * *

Joanna finished the last note and handed them to a footman. The job was necessary, but she could not shake off the conviction that Sedge had used it to keep her away from the sickroom.

It was time she took her place in this family. Allowing Lady Glendale to exclude her set a precedent that would make the future impossible. She would not stay in the marquess’s room, but at least she would look in to see how he was faring.

She was approaching his suite when angry voices halted her in her tracks. How dare you marry a nobody without even looks to recommend her … breeding is so base … whoring in the streets…

Dear God! She sagged against the wall. It was worse than she had feared. No wonder Sedge had been furious. She had never understood the extent of his sacrifice.

Society already ridicules your judgment … cannot allow her baseborn blood to taint the marquessate.

Nausea choked her throat. Placing her hands over her ears, she escaped to her room.

Sedge’s immediate friends had welcomed her, but matrons like Lady Glendale would ultimately decide her fate. Without their support, she could never become part of his world, making his sacrifice useless. Even his friends would balk when facing a choice between diminished credit and her company. She would hurt them and would ultimately hurt Sedge. If he used Society’s esteem to balance his parents’ criticism, then losing it would hurt twice over.

Or worse.

Already, their marriage was widening the rift with his parents. And she had been right. Concern over this mésalliance was worsening Glendale’s condition. Sedge’s resentment would fester, hardening into real hatred. London’s premier dandy was a proud man. He had suppressed that pride long enough to wed her, but it would not remain dormant for long. Their unequal union would chafe, destroying every spark of congeniality.

She could not tolerate such misery. Nor could she allow the rift between him and his family to broaden into a permanent breach. Blood ties were important. She loved him too much to ruin his life.

Dabbing at her tears, she turned to her dressing room. Marriage had been a mistake, as she had known all along. Why had she not listened to the voice warning her that it could only bring disaster?

Dumping the hat from a bandbox, she filled the box with her old clothing, then wrote a brief farewell before slipping from the house.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Sedge stared from the doorway to his brother as the sound of that abrupt departure reverberated through the room. Reggie was white-faced.

“She didn’t mean it,” Sedge said softly. “We are all too tired to know what we’re saying.”

Reggie sank into a chair, dropping his head in his hands. “She meant it. Every word.” His shoulders shook with sobs. “Dear God, I can’t take any more.”

Appalled, Sedge shut and locked the door. A decanter of brandy remained from last night’s vigil. Downing a glass, he poured one for Reggie, then returned to the window to stare into the square.

Not until he heard glass clink against the table did he turn back to the room. “How can you take her tirade seriously? You know it arose from fear of the changes she faces.”

“This is not the first time she has uttered those charges. Or the tenth. Or even the twentieth. Nor will it be the last.” He poured another drink, then stared into the fireplace. “Father is dying. I doubt the doctor has ever seen a man recover from this level of impairment. All that pap about keeping him calm was merely to give Mother hope, but the situation is hopeless. He won’t last a month.”

“Agreed.”

“You will have to deal with it, Sedge. I won’t be here.”

“What—”

Reggie looked like he was facing an executioner. The lines in his face had deepened, making him look fifty. “Sit down, Sedge. The title will be mine within the month. I can escape Mother’s pressure by sending her to Scotland, but she is not the only one. Aunt Barkley is just as bad. Half of Society already condemns me for reaching the advanced age of four-and-thirty without doing my duty. The rest will soon follow. I can’t take it any longer. My valet is already packing. We will be out of the country within the week.”