Candice Hern (4 page)

“No, of course not, Papa.”

“And in any case, the circumstances…” Lord Henry looked at them both and heaved a sigh. “This is not what I would have wished for you, Prudence. But Parrish has done the right thing. I am sure it will be for the best. Now, let us join the party. Oh, blast. Here is Margaret.”

A tall, pretty, blond woman sailed into the hall like a ship of the line. She was fashionably dressed in white muslin and lace, her skirts billowing be
hind her as she launched toward them at impressive speed.

“Thank
God
you have finally come,” she said, one hand punctuating the air in a little burst of outstretched fingers. She came to a halt in front of Pru, looming in her greater height, eyes blazing. It was an entrance worthy of Mrs. Siddons. “I have been at my
wits’ end
.” The hand, once again, etched the air with an expansive flourish of frustration.

“Hullo, Margaret,” Pru said, unruffled by this impassioned onslaught. “I am sorry to be late.”

“I do not know
what
has got into you,” her sister said, “disappearing like that and worrying us all half to death last night. When you
knew
I needed you here.” She slid a withering gaze in Nick’s direction. “I suppose this is
him
.”

Pru sent Nick an apologetic look. “This is Nicholas Parrish,” she said. “My…husband.”

She seemed almost to choke on the word. Hearing it said aloud like that was no less unsettling to Nick.

“Nicholas, may I present my sister Margaret, Lady Daine.”

She looked as though she expected him to offer an elegant leg and bow deeply. But Nick would be damned before he would kowtow to the aristocracy. He reached out a hand. “Lady Daine. I am pleased to meet Pru’s sister.”

Momentarily flustered, she stared down at his hand as though the glove were soiled. Finally, she condescended to put her own hand in his. And
just for the sheer pleasure of discomposing her, he brought her fingers to his lips.

She twitched a little in surprise, then glared at him and retrieved her hand. “Well. This is a beastly business, to be sure. But we shall carry on, somehow. Prudence, did you have nothing more becoming to wear? Oh, it is of no consequence. No one will notice. Now, come with me. I am not at all pleased with the way the footmen have arranged the—”

“I beg your pardon, Lady Daine,” Nick said, and took hold of Pru’s elbow as she made to follow her sister. “I am sure you have well-trained servants to manage things for you.” Even as he spoke, a small parade of liveried footmen crossed the hall, each bearing a silver tray laden with dishes or glasses. “They appear to have matters well in hand. I am sure you can manage without Pru’s help. I am a blushing bridegroom, you may recall, and should prefer to keep my bride by my side, if you please.”

He could hardly believe he’d said such a thing—blushing bridegroom, indeed!—but the damned woman annoyed him, treating poor Pru like a servant.

Lady Daine was not amused. Wrenching her chilly gaze from Nick, she turned to Pru. “If anything goes wrong today, it will be all your fault, my girl. And I shall never forgive you for ruining dear Arabella’s first appearance in town.”

She spun on her heel and marched away.

“I say, Parrish, that was well done.” Pru’s youngest brother, William, wore a broad grin as he
watched his sister’s stately exit. He clapped a hand on Nick’s shoulder and said, “Let’s go face the mob. I will help Pru introduce you around.”

And so the five of them—Nick, Pru, Lord Henry, William Armitage, and Charles Armitage—made their way through an elegant drawing room where the French doors were open to a large terrace. Nick could see beyond it slightly to a formal garden below. It was surely ten times the size of the tiny patch of garden behind the house on Golden Square. And it was teeming with people. The din of a hundred conversations wafted through the open doors.

Lord, this was not going to be easy. He hated this sort of
ton
gathering. He looked down to find Pru gazing at him apprehensively. Of course, she would know how he felt. She had read every article and pamphlet he’d written over the last four years. And several times, he and Edwina and Pru had sat for hours talking of politics and dreams of reform. She would know how uncomfortable he would be in a room full of privileged aristocrats. She claimed to support the same republican principles as he did, and yet these were her people, her family.

No wonder she had never revealed her background. He would never have trusted her again. How he hated those highborn noblemen who dabbled in reform because it seemed a modern, sophisticated thing to do—until it affected them personally. Is that what Pru had done? Found herself a cause to occupy her time, without any true commitment?

“I am dreadfully sorry,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper so that the others would not hear.

He wondered if his face had revealed his disdain and made an effort to school his features. More likely she was apologizing for the sheer numbers and not the politics of her relations. “You did warn me it was a large family,” he said.

“That’s not what I meant. I am sorry they are so…”

“Aristocratic? Wealthy? Privileged? Tory to a man, I suspect.”

“Yes. All of that. I know how you must despise them.”

He looked into her clear blue eyes and saw nothing of guile or deceit. He knew in that instant that her ideals were as true as his own, that she had never “played” at reform, but had been a true colleague. He only had to recall how tireless she had been in her work on the magazine, especially with Edwina gone.

It was this wretched forced marriage. There was a simmering anger deep down in his gut that he had kept in check all day, and the effort made him a bit crazy. He ought not to have doubted Pru. None of this was her fault.

“They are your family,” he said. “Some of them may have different ideals than mine, but it does not matter. This is not a political meeting or public debate. It is a family affair, and I promise to exert myself to be charming.”

She smiled and looked away, then, in a very low voice said, “That should not be difficult.”

And so Nick steeled himself to face the noble Armitage family.

They stepped onto the terrace, where several dozen fashionably attired people mingled and talked loudly above the din of voices. Covered tables were scattered about, and some guests were seated at them, picking at small plates of dainty-looking morsels. A few guests looked Nick’s way, but William led him and Pru down the steps to the garden below.

“Let’s grab something to eat first,” William said. “I declare I am starved to death. I do hope Margaret has laid out a good spread. She likes to call this a breakfast, even though it is afternoon. I sincerely hope it is more than tea and toast.”

The garden was filled with more small tables, but most people were standing or strolling about the gravel paths. It was an elegant crowd. Beneath the top hats and bonnets and turbans, it seemed that almost everyone was fair-haired, like Pru’s father and brothers. It was indeed a tall, big-boned, good-looking family. A gathering of Vikings. There was an occasional brunette and one or two redheads. Relatives by marriage, no doubt.

His own dark coloring—inherited from his Italian grandmother—made him feel like a blot of ink on a pristine sheet of parchment. No wonder heads turned his way when they entered the garden.

William filled a plate with food from the buffet
table, though neither Nick nor Pru was inclined to eat. She was probably as wound up inside as he was. He did convince her to take a glass of champagne when a footman passed with a tray of glasses. He took one as well, and clinked his glass to hers in a silent toast. She stared at him for a moment, a quizzical, uncertain look in her eye. Then she gave a small shrug and brought the glass to her lips.

“Come, Parrish,” William said, carrying a plate with him. “Let me introduce you to my aunt Jane, Lady Gordon.”

And so it began.

William led them to a tall, handsome woman who looked to be in her sixties, elegantly dressed in spotted muslin. “Hello, Willy,” she said. “You are looking positively mischievous. And who is this gentleman?”

“May I introduce Nicholas Parrish, ma’am.”

She offered her hand and peered at him through a quizzing glass held in the other. Nick took her hand but did not bring it to his lips. Not with a quizzing glass pointed at him.

“How do you do, Lady Gordon?” he said.

“I thought this was to be the family only, Willy. I will, however, forgive you bringing along your friend since he is such a handsome devil.”

“He
is
family, Aunt Jane. He is married to Prudence.”

Her brow furrowed. “To whom?”

William inched his sister forward, though she
had not been hiding in the background. She was standing right beside him. “To Prudence, Aunt.”

Lady Gordon looked at Pru as though only just noticing her. “Prudence? Married?” Her eyebrows disappeared beneath the silvery-gold curls peeking from beneath a turban of twisted muslin, and her wide-eyed gaze moved back to Nick. “To this young man?”

“Yes, Aunt Jane,” Pru said.

“My my my.” Her gaze stayed on Nick, and her eyes twinkled. “Who would have dreamed such a thing? Well, you are welcome to the family, young man. I am giving a small rout next Thursday, the day after Arabella’s come-out ball. You must promise to attend. You may bring along Prudence, of course.”

“I’d be delighted,” he said, lying through his teeth. He had hoped not to be forced into any more
ton
events. But he could hardly refuse. Even if she did manage to ignore Pru.

William took them around to several other grand personages—Lord and Lady Phillip Armitage, the Earl and Countess of Totteridge, Sir Thomas and Lady Vaughn, Lady Randolph Armitage—before he was called away and Prudence was left to the introductions on her own. Everyone they had met so far had reacted in much the same way when he was introduced as Pru’s husband. It was as though none of them imagined she would ever find a husband—if they imagined anything about her at all. It was almost as though because of
him—because he had married Pru—they noticed her for the first time.

What was wrong with these people? Pru was as well-bred, as highborn as the rest of them. She was intelligent and sweet-natured and attractive. How had she been so easily overlooked for so long? It was not as though she cowered in the shadows. Yes, she was shy, but she was not timid. She stood straight, looked everyone in the eye, and spoke clearly. Of course, she was not as loud as the others. It seemed that many of them had decided the best way to make their mark in this large company was to shout louder than anyone else. The noise was almost deafening.

No wonder Pru had tried to find interests for herself outside this mob. He could never imagine her voice raised.

He saw no women as tiny as Pru, and none with her unique reddish-blond coloring. And certainly none of them seemed shy. Not in this loud, gregarious, almost boisterous family. If not for similarities in the shape of her face and the hint of aquilinity in the nose—how had he failed to notice that aristocratic line?—he would never have guessed Pru belonged to this family.

She led him to meet the others. So many cousins and aunts and uncles—it made his head spin.

“Do not even try to keep us all straight,” one of them said. Nick was fairly certain it was Lionel Armitage, son of Lord Arthur Armitage. “It is a lost cause. Even those of us born to the family have
trouble remembering all the relationships. I have always thought we should all wear name badges at these events. Or colored armbands to identify us with one of the twelve children of the old duke.”

“That would certainly help a newcomer,” Nick said.

Pru was borne off by some of her female cousins. No doubt they wished to hear all the details of her sudden marriage. He wondered how much of the truth she would tell.

Lionel Armitage tugged him along to meet more cousins. Within moments, a group of tall, fair-haired men surrounded him, punching him in the shoulder and laughing loudly.

“Foot caught in the mousetrap, eh, old chap?”

“Bit of a sticky situation, I hear.”

“Compromised beyond hope, they say.”

“A pity you could not have compromised a beauty.”

“Prudence, of all people.”

“Deuced bad luck, that’s what it is.”

“She’s a quiet little thing, though.”

“Biddable.”

“Won’t complain if you lead your own life, I daresay.”

“Still, it’s a damned shame.”

“Frightful predicament.”

“Not exactly the sort of woman a man dreams of.”

“Ha! A nightmare, more like.”

“Plain little Prudence.”

“Sad bit of dowd.”

A sudden chorus of throat clearing told Nick that Pru was near. She was, in fact, just behind him. Damnation. How much had she heard? She was turning to walk away when Nick took her by the elbow and brought her close to his side.

“I am afraid you are under the wrong impression, gentlemen,” he said. “As it happens, she is precisely the woman I have dreamed of. Prudence and I have been in love for some time now, have we not, my dear?”

P
ru was stunned into silence. How to respond to such a bouncer? But she had heard her cousins commiserating with Nicholas on his misfortune. He must have known she’d heard their barbs. It was not pleasant to hear oneself spoken of as a sad bit of dowd, even though she knew it to be true. And knew, too, how unfair it was that Nicholas was now stuck with her. That did not make it any easier to hear it spoken aloud and laughed about.

But he knew she had heard and tried to make amends. Dear Nicholas. She looked at him and smiled, unable to offer any coherent words of confirmation.

He pulled her closer. “We had planned to wait,” he said, “but circumstances forced an early mar
riage. Your cousin, gentlemen, is a priceless little jewel. I suggest you remember that.”

He turned and led her away from them. Never one for discretion, her cousin Rupert was clearly heard to say, in a typically loud voice, “Well, if that don’t beat all.”

She could not suppress a giggle. “Nicholas, what a whisker. How could you say such things with a straight face?”

“I could not bear them another moment.” His voice bristled with anger. “They were downright insufferable.”

“I daresay they were. But that surely was not reason enough to tell such a ridiculous lie. No one will believe it.”

“Then we shall make them believe it. I do not care to have your hundreds of cousins feeling sorry for us.”

Such consideration made her almost want to cry. “That is very kind of you, Nicholas, but truly not necessary. There are far too many other interesting people in the family for anyone to spend time feeling sorry for me.”

“I suppose your female cousins wanted all the details. What did you tell them?”

“Not much. Everyone had heard of the rushed wedding, of course. That sort of news spreads like wildfire in this family. Most of them just wanted to know who you were, and how was it that someone like me had been able to entrap someone like you.”

“Someone like me?”

“Someone so…handsome.”

Her cousin Beatrice had stated quite boldly that she and Nicholas were horribly mismatched. Of course they were. No one knew that better than Pru. He was gorgeous; she was ordinary. He was charming and gregarious; she was shy and diffident. He was brilliant, with a mind that could tear apart a political argument with ease and formulate new and profound ideas with persuasive eloquence. And she was…average.

No, she was no proper match for Nicholas. He ought to have been embarrassed by her shortcomings. And yet he was willing to pretend a love match.

He gave a little growl of frustration. “Pru, I swear I do not understand how you have managed to live with these people all your life.”

She shrugged and smiled. “I get along.”

“By remaining invisible to them?”

“I suppose. But I don’t mind, really. I am not like the rest of them, you know. I’ve never…fit in.”

“I can see that. Well, everyone is noticing you today. Let us give them something to notice. Look at me like you love me, Pru.”

He took her hand to his lips and kept it there longer than was proper, all the while gazing at her as though he wanted to devour her on the spot.

Lord, how she had longed for him to look at her like that. It was sheer heaven. Of course, it was mock desire. There was a hint of laughter in those dark eyes. But it was easy enough to pretend, if only for a moment, that it was real.

She wanted that moment to last foever.

“Keep looking at me, Pru,” he said as he tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and laid his other hand upon it. “Let them think you’re in love with me. That’s it. Oh, very nice. You almost convince me, my dear. I do believe you might have had a career on the stage, Pru.”

“So this is the handsome bridegroom.”

Pru pulled her gaze from Nicholas’s—just in time, too, before he realized she was not playacting—to find her cousin Eunice at her side. She was not looking at Pru, but was staring with open admiration at Nicholas. Eunice was very beautiful and terribly vain. Pru ought to have known she would seek out the newest handsome face in the crowd.

“Hello, Eunice. May I present Nicholas Parrish. My husband.” She despised the hint of possessiveness she heard in those words. What was wrong with her? The warm, longing look Nicholas had just given her was not real. She must not forget that. “Nicholas, this is my cousin, Mrs. Shelbourne.”

Eunice held out a hand, but Nicholas did not kiss the air above her fingers, as he had done so many times this afternoon, charming all the ladies. He simply took her hand and bowed over it. “Your servant, madam.”

Eunice gave him a provocative smile and never took her eyes from him. “Goodness, Prudence, what a coup. Such an attractive husband you have snared.”

Nicholas pulled Pru closer to his side and said, “If there was a snare, madam, I assure you I stepped into it willingly.”

Eunice’s eyes held more than a hint of mockery when she glanced briefly at Pru. “Indeed? Well, they always say it is the quiet ones who will surprise you, and you have certainly done that, Prudence. I trust we will be seeing more of you this Season, Mr. Parrish. Will you be at Arabella’s come-out ball next week?”

“We are hoping for some time alone, are we not, my dear? But I am sure we will make an appearance now and then. I shall let my bride decide which invitations to accept.”

“Well, she will certainly want to attend her niece’s ball,” Eunice said, “so I will hope for a dance, Mr. Parrish.”

“May I interrupt?”

Pru’s father had stepped up to join them. “Of course, Papa.”

“May I take Parrish away for a short while? I promise not to keep him long.”

“Of course, my lord,” Nicholas said, and then turned to Pru. “I shall find you later, my dear.” Once again, no doubt for the benefit of Eunice, he placed a fulsome kiss upon her hand. He shot her one more look of mock longing, then he and her father walked away together.

“I confess, you have astonished me, cousin,” Eunice said. “What a splendid-looking man he is. If one is to be compromised, he is certainly the man one would choose to do it.” She went on to
chide Pru about trapping the poor man, as though it would have been less objectionable had it been any other woman, someone more equal to him in beauty.

Eunice had not been the first one to suggest Pru must have deliberately set up a compromising situation to trap Nicholas. Several of her female relations had implied as much. Her cousin Susan, Lady Lambrooke, had stated outright, in a loud, ringing voice, that there was no other possible way Prudence could have attracted such a man.

It ought to have been very lowering. However, in the deepest, most secret corner of her soul, Pru felt rather proud of herself for having the handsomest, most charming husband of any of her cousins.

“I sincerely hope you do not expect to keep him to yourself,” Eunice said. “A man like that will not be content to sit quietly by the home fire each night, faithful as a hound. And I trust you will not be so foolish as to fall in love with him. That would be unwise, my girl. Ah, there is Roland. I must have a word with him.”

Pru was left standing alone on the garden path, with Eunice’s words jangling in her head. She had not yet had time to consider how this marriage would proceed.
Had
she expected Nicholas to be a faithful husband? Faithful to a wife he never wanted? She supposed that was indeed an impossible dream. She only hoped he would keep silent about any other women in his life. She did not wish to know about them.

And she prayed none of them was one of her numerous cousins. Almost every woman today below the age of ninety had cast eyes in his direction. Several had gazed with open admiration. Nicholas had been charming, but had not flirted back with any of them. Not that she knew of, at least. She wondered if he even realized the effect of his careless charm.

So, this was how it was to be. Married to a man she loved to distraction who did not love her, did not want her, and never would. Any woman still breathing would find him attractive, and so Pru would constantly have to endure the open interest of other women. And because just about any one of them would be more desirable than Pru, she would have to constantly wonder if he returned that interest. And keep silent about it if he did.

How was she to bear it?

Was she destined forever to compare herself to some unknown woman who might be his lover? And to wonder how miserably she measured up? Were there women already in his life to contend with?

Good heavens. It occurred to her that she knew very little of his personal life. What if he was in love with someone else? What if he had been courting someone in hopes of marriage?

“Aunt Prudence?”

Pru took a deep breath and forced aside all thoughts of how else she might have ruined Nicholas’s life. She composed herself, looked up at her niece, and smiled. “Arabella. Did I tell you
how pretty you look today? That shade of blue was a good choice after all. It is most becoming.”

The girl gave a wave of casual dismissal and took Pru by the arm. “I am glad we have a moment alone, Aunt Prudence. I wanted to tell you how happy I am for you. Mr. Parrish is exceedingly handsome, is he not?”

“He is indeed.”

Arabella sighed wistfully. “I hope I can find such a handsome husband. I do pray, though, I don’t have to wait as long as you.” She gave a little squeal and covered her mouth. “Oh, forgive me! That was badly stated. I just meant that I do not have your patience. I want to find my handsome hero
now
. All the cousins are frightfully jealous, you know. Have you really been in love forever? That’s what Cousin Hugh said. Mr. Parrish told him that even though the timing of the marriage was forced, it was not unwelcome. I am so glad to know that you have made a love match at long last. But why have you never mentioned him before?”

Pru shrugged. She was reluctant to play along with the yarn Nicholas had spun, but neither did she want to contradict him in public. “It was a private matter, Arabella.”

“And you have always been a very private person.” Arabella smiled and patted Pru’s arm. “Well, I, for one, am enormously pleased for you. I only wish you could have had a grand wedding and lots of parties. It does not seem right that there are no celebrations.” Her eyes lit up with
sudden excitement. “I have it! You can share my come-out ball. It can be in honor of your wedding as well.”

An instant of sheer terror sent an involuntary shudder through Pru’s body. “No, no, my dear. The ball is for you alone. It will be your very own special night, after your presentation to the queen in the afternoon. Besides, I do not want to make a public fuss over this marriage. I am much too old for that. And considering the circumstances, it would not be appropriate.”

“Oh, pooh. What do the circumstances matter if it is a love match?”

“Please, Arabella, let me do this in my own way. Besides, even if I was willing—which I am not—your mother would never agree to sharing your ball with me.”

Her niece giggled. “She would not, would she? Well, at least you must come and dance with Mr. Parrish. You may pretend it is your ball, even if nothing is said of it.”

A pretend ball. A pretend love match. What other fictions lay ahead in this new make-believe world she’d entered this morning? And how long could she pretend that she was not miserable?

Nick followed Lord Henry into the house. He supposed they were about to have a man-to-man talk about Pru. There had been no time to do so before now. Lord Henry had spent the morning arranging for the special license and use of the
church. But the moment for plain speaking had come, and Nick was not looking forward to facing the man who earlier had punched him in the nose.

Lord Henry led the way through the drawing room and down the stairs to a library. After indicating that Nick should be seated, he closed the door and took a seat behind the desk.

“Daine has given us permission to use his study,” he said. “He has assured me we will not be disturbed.” He placed his elbows on the desk, leaned forward, and steepled his fingers. He looked at Nick for a long while before speaking again.

“I understand you are claiming this is a love match.”

Good Lord, is that all the man wanted to discuss? Surely he did not object to that little bit of prevarication?

It had been a thoroughly impulsive response to those overgrown loutish cousins. Their insulting references to Pru had not only angered him, but had triggered a wave of protectiveness that had swept over him with astonishing strength. Perhaps it was because Pru had spent so much time in Edwina’s company that he’d begun to think of her as a sister. He would certainly never have allowed anyone to speak of Edwina in that offensive manner.

“I confess I did not like the way some of your relations were treating Pru,” he said, “as though she were some sort of unsightly toad unworthy of
happiness. It made me angry, and I said what I said in order to put an end to their jibes.”

Lord Henry stared at him through narrowed eyes—clear blue like those of his daughter. “You surprise me, Parrish. Considering how things began this morning, I had not expected such…thoughtfulness. I assumed you would be so angry, you would remain stiff and silent throughout the day, but you have handled yourself well. We are not an easy family to foist upon anyone, especially on such short notice. I appreciate your consideration of Prudence.”

“She is my friend, Lord Henry, and not deserving of the cruel words being thrown about by her cousins. It is true that I am angry about this whole situation. For myself and for Pru. But what’s done is done. And I have no intention of allowing your family to make this any more difficult for Pru than it is already.” Or for himself, either, by God.

Lord Henry’s eyes widened slightly. “Well, then. I commend you, sir, on your sense of honor. You are a true gentleman. It appears my daughter has made a good match, after all.”

Had she? Nick doubted it. The marriage had been against her will as much as his.

“We will make the best of it, my lord.”

“By Jove, I believe you will.” The ghost of a smile crossed his face, and vanished. “Now, I am afraid we must discuss more practical matters. Prudence’s dowry.”