Carnal Pleasures (36 page)

With those surprising words dropped into Dulcie’s lap, the two women swished out of the room, shutting the door behind them.

Dulcie couldn’t believe what she heard. She and Griff Spencer…married? Today?

But, he and I agreed to call it off to stop the countess from gaining half of my inheritance.
What day is today?
She raked her mind, searching for the date.
Time has past without my knowing what day or a week it is.

Another thought, an evil one, sprung into her head. Did Griff decide to betray her after all? He’d confessed his reasons for seducing her, candidly admitting that he needed a rich wife. He also agreed to the earlier arrangement with the countess by falsifying his relationship while living in Eberley House. Could he have joined forces with her stepmother to bilk her of half her father’s wealth? Well, why not? Both he and Agina needed money. It would make both of their lives richer and fuller. She knew Agina never cared a penny for her, and now, she was afraid that Griff felt the same way.

Dulcie leaned back against the bed pillows. Her eyes watered, although she tried to squeeze her lids tight. A few salty tears rolled down her cheeks. Was that her heart she felt breaking?

She was so weary of feeling sick, but she pulled herself together, swallowed hard, and inhaled a few deep breaths. She forced herself to sit up straight, brush the tears from her cheeks, and push her lank hair back from her brow. She reached for the bell pull to summon a housemaid. The least she could do was make herself presentable. She wasn’t sure she was strong enough to deny both Griff and the countess’s wishes, but she was determined to try.

* * * *

Sommers had placed Griff’s belongings in the chamber next to Dulcie’s. Griff asked Rand to stay on, and the men went up the room together. Griff ordered a hot bath be drawn. Afterward, he dressed in fresh clothes. The men next went below for lunch in the formal dining room.

They were almost finished eating when Sommers interrupted them.

“Mr. Spencer, we have two additional guests waiting in the front drawing room. I’ve been asked that you and Lord Titus join them and the countess. Please come this way.”

Griff threw a cautious look across the table at Rand, but the two men rose and followed the butler.

The countess made the formal introductions.

“Reverend Carter and Lawrence Bundy, may I present my stepdaughter’s fiancé, Griffith Spencer and his groomsman, Viscount Titus.” Agina smiled as the men shook hands all around.

“Now, then gentlemen, shall we join Lady Dulcina? As I told you, she is not quite up to snuff, but she wishes to be married as soon as possible, before her twenty-first birthday tomorrow.”

The group marched up the central staircase silently, the countess leading the way. Trent stood outside Dulcie’s room. She nodded briefly to the countess as a footman opened the door for the visitors.

Dulcie had bathed and had her hair washed although it took a lot of strength out of her. One of the maids had brushed her hair dry, and it flowed around her shoulders in a halo of silken splendor. She had lost weight during her ordeal, but she donned one of the gowns she purchased in London. The color looked good on her even if it didn’t fit well. She sat in the wing chair where Griff sat when he stayed with her in her room. One of the maids helped Dulcie raise her slippered feet onto a low stool and draped a lacy shawl over her shoulders. Unfortunately, her skin, usually blooming with good health, looked rather sallow, and her lips were pale. She looked composed, however. A tiny flush of warmth tinted her newly sculptured cheeks, forming a more regal and aristocratic countenance since she lost weight. Dulcie sat unsmiling and quiet.

“Ah, I see you are ready, my dear,” the countess greeted her, effusively, not giving Dulcie time to reply. “We shall do this quickly so that you may go back to your bed, dearest.”

Griff approached Dulcie. Reaching down for her hand, he halted beside her. It felt limp in his, but he squeezed hers gently, anyway. Rand ranged himself on Griff’s other side. The countess stood next to Dulcie, with Lawrence Bundy, the Trayhern’s solicitor, beside Agina. He wore the same satisfied expression as the countess wore. The minister faced Dulcie and Griff and opened his prayer book and cleared his throat.

* * * *

“Dear friends, we are gathered here today to join together Griffth Ronald Spencer and Dulcina Trayhern in lawful marriage…”

Dulcie’s head started to spin, but she shook away the wooziness. Her throat was as dry as parchment. She hoped she would be able to utter the words she needed. She hid her other hand amidst the folds of her gown, clenching and closing the fingers to give her courage.

The minister droned on until he finally reached the marriage vows.

“Do thee Griffth Ronald Spencer take this woman, Dulcina Trayhern, for better or worse…?”

“Er…”

“I’m sure my nephew is nervous, but that is fine, Reverend,” the countess quickly interposed. “Please continue.”

“And do thee, Dulcina Trayhern, take this man, Griffith Ronald Spencer, to love and obey…”

Dulcie cleared her throat.

Rapidly, with more than a small amount of conviction, she exclaimed, “No, I certainly will not! I will not marry him! Now or ever!”

Every person in the room except her was stunned into silence.

Chapter Forty

The countess lunged at the weakened girl with the fierce venom of a striking adder, railing at her with a furious tirade.

Griff grabbed Agina’s arm roughly, without apology, and pulled her away from Dulcie.

“Hold on, now, Spencer,” Lawrence Bundy said. The smile had been wiped from his expression until Griff finally let Agina go. “The earl’s daughter is simply being stubborn. Let me speak with her alone. I’m sure we can fix everything.”

“Wait, just a minute…” Rand sputtered, not sure whether or not he should interfere.

Griff gripped his friend’s shoulder to stop him. Then he swung to face Agina’s lawyer. “Don’t bother, Bundy. Lady Dulcina and I are not getting married. The lady changed her mind, and I will not force her to accept me as her husband. I think you should tear up that special license right now. You won’t need it for this wedding.”

“But Mr. Spencer…”

Reverend Carter had stepped back when the tussle between the countess and Griff occurred. His spectacles slipped down his nose, and his bushy eyebrows flew upward at his surprised expression. He grabbed at his prayer book, and quickly snapped the pages closed as he headed toward the door.

“Perhaps, if you will excuse me, I s-should be on my way,” he stuttered and exited as if his coattails were on fire.

The countess glowered at Griff.

He glared back.

The two stared for an interminable period, until the countess at last understood she had lost the fight. She turned to glance at Trent who stood in the doorway. The lady’s maid nodded very slowly.

“Well, then,” Agina said, haughtily, her gaze flinging daggers to everyone in the room. “If that is the case, I shall leave this nasty chit to herself and depart for London and Eberley House as quickly as I can get packed.” She sneered, especially at Dulcie. “And you…I never want to see
you
again.” Agina stalked from the room with Trent following close on her heels, murmuring soothing words into the peeress’s ears as the two women progressed down the hallway.

Lawrence Bundy took the marriage license from his jacket pocket and tore it into several small pieces. With a weak flourish of disappointment, he let them float to the bedroom floor. “So much for that bit of work,” he said, and walked out and down the central staircase. He was seen ten minutes later galloping his horse down the carriage drive.

Only Griff and Rand remained in the room with Dulcie. Griff gazed down at Dulcie, but she turned her head away and wouldn’t acknowledge him.

If only she had looked up, she would have been able to interpret his feelings quite clearly by looking upon his solemn, concerned expression. But Dulcie kept her eyes tightly closed.

“The problem is solved,” Griff said to her, very gently. “You are well on the road to recovery.” Deeper emotions, those he wanted badly to express to her, caught in his throat and didn’t allow him to spit them out. “Stay well, Dulcie,” he murmured very low, very sincerely. He glanced over at Rand and nodded, letting him know it was time for them to go.

* * * *

Dulcie sat there, permitting herself to calm down after she heard the men’s footsteps leave the room.

When one of the maids tapped on her door a bit later, Dulcie bade the girl enter. “Would you please help me undress so I can get back into bed?” She felt as limp and boneless as her hand had been when Griff grabbed it and squeezed it.

When she was settled down in bed again, she asked for a tea tray. On her way out

The little maid stooped to pick up the torn scraps of parchment lying on the carpet.

“Oh!” Seeing her, Dulcie stopped the girl. “Please give me those.”

When the girl left, Dulcie hugged the pieces of the marriage license to her breast. Her eyes filled again, and this time she couldn’t keep from weeping, all by herself, surrounded by the lonely silence in the empty room.

Chapter Forty-One

Griff and Rand rode most of the way to London in quiet contemplation. Rand invited Griff to stay with him in Town until he decided what he planned to do.

The next day Griff and Rand received an invitation to the Burlington manor for tea. Both men accepted: Rand, hoping to continue his courting of Desdemona, and Griff because he wanted to solidify his re-acquaintance with his family.

When the men arrived, John Burlington excused himself and Griff from the babble of gossip and conversation that rippled around the room. He asked Griff to accompany him to his study and sat him down, facing his massive desk. “I’m very proud of you, Griff for your service to your country,” he said once again, his voice a deep rumble from within his barrel chest. “Have you decided what you plan to do now that you are all but recovered?”

“No, sir. To tell the truth, I haven’t had time to think about it.”

“I see.” He paused. “I must tell you something that may upset you.”

“Oh? What might that be, sir?”

John squinted his eyes sharply at his nephew. He hesitated, pulling on an end of his thick, gray mustache. “Harumph! It was I who purchased the mortgages on your parent’s home…your aunt’s former home. It now belongs to me. I plan to give it to my daughter as a wedding gift when she marries.”

Griff’s throat closed, and it was difficult for him to swallow. The idea of buying it back had kept him on the straight and narrow for many months. Now that he had the funds, damn it, the dream was snatched from his grasp.

Sitting there in his uncle’s study, he felt as if he were flung into a roiling sea of indecision, without a boat or a compass, and no reason to behave as an honorable gentleman for the rest of his natural life. He could easily return to the libertine behavior he supported earlier in his youth. When Dulcie had rejected him, she had damaged his once heady ego, as well as his deeper emotions and feelings.

He should have anticipated her refusal to marry. After all, they had made the decision together, months before he again heard the awful words flying out of her mouth. He still wondered why she was so angry with him. Didn’t she know it wasn’t his doing? He would never have helped the countess to get her way. He should have clamped down on the witch’s intentions before Dulcie terminated her own wedding vows. He was proud of her courage. She showed him she still had spunk, the return of the feisty behavior he had noticed about her during her time in London. She was strong-willed enough to fight the countess and keep what belonged to her. Lady Dulcie would now be a very rich young lady. If she wanted to, she could choose a husband from anyone. He didn’t fault her for doing that.

However, when he learned he wasn’t able to buy back his family’s estate, either, every ounce of enthusiasm suddenly drained out of him.

“Let me know when you are ready to make up your mind about a career,” John Burlington was saying. Giving a signal that the meeting was closed, he rose from behind his desk. The two men returned to the drawing room, one smiling the other, somber-faced.

* * * *

The days passed as the holidays rapidly approached. Since the countess had deserted Bonne Vista, Dulcie did little more than rest, read, and concentrate on getting well. She was anxious to be back onto her feet, able to take walks along the Surrey hills again. She forced herself not to think about Griff Spencer, but it was not easy. He still haunted her dreams.

Simon’s company helped immensely, and strength began to flow into her like vitality rushing through a dry riverbed. She ate three meals a days and put on some of the weight she lost. Her skin glowed with renewed health. Servants walked around the manor with wide smiles on their faces. The kitchen help scrubbed down the storeroom a second time, and the housekeeper ordered a new supply of sugar. Still shuddering from what she went through, Dulcie stayed with honey as her tea sweetener. The countess’s supply of exotic tea disappeared.

The solicitor’s apprentice delivered the paperwork for Dulcie’s signature to be appended on the agreement between her and the countess. It was signed, and the copy returned to her before Christmas.

Dulcie hired a new solicitor and had him prepare an additional legal document, offering Agina a substantial payment if she would relinquish her life interest in Eberley House. Since her yearly allowance did not nearly cover her many extravagances, the countess grabbed the opportunity and signed the papers without a battle.

To Dulcie it was the best Christmas present she ever received…to have the countess out of her sight and out of her life forever.

* * * *

Griff and Rand visited often at the Burlington’s town house during the holiday festivities in London. Rand made a concerted effort to convince Desdemona they should do well together. Young and flirtatious, she held off his persistence and allowed a coterie of younger suitors to hang on. Rand was miserable, plagued by blue devils.