Julia London (84 page)

“My dear, you will not
think
of it. It is silly, idle chatter, nothing more. Sutherland is a good boy, a very good boy,” Lady Paddington averred so strongly, that Marlaine could not help wondering whom she was trying to convince.

“No talk about
him
, of course,” Mrs. Clark quickly replied.

“Oh no!” Lady Paddington confirmed. “But there are some who think the countess should not have accompanied him. It was really indelicate, particularly when the object of her affections—”

“You mean her
escort—
”

“Particularly when her
escort
was waiting on pins and needles for the return of his fiancée.”

“Oh, and he
was
, my dear, you can rest assured of that!” Mrs. Clark interjected. “He has no interest in
her
, none whatsoever!”

“I have always maintained that if a woman can lose eighteen rounds of loo in one setting, there is something not quite right,” Lady Paddington sniffed.

Marlaine barely heard Mrs. Clark’s opinion of that. She was too engrossed in keeping a sudden swell of nausea at bay.

At the Haddington Road Infirmary, a distracted Lauren listened to Mr. Peavey for what seemed hours, hardly able to concentrate long enough to form a sentence. All she could think of was Alex. Throughout the afternoon and on the return trip home, she tried to imagine what he was doing, if he was thinking about her. She closed her eyes and saw the way his dark hair curled above his collar, his broad hand resting on hers, his eyes crinkling at the corners when he laughed. She saw the smoldering way he looked at her as he had thrust into her. An involuntary tremble coursed through her, and she rubbed her hands vigorously against her arms.

Once again at Russell Square, she dressed very carefully for the evening. The pale pink brocade gown she chose seemed a little overdone for Vauxhall Gardens, she thought, and burst into gay laughter. She could meet him in the middle of the pumpkin field for all she cared,
anywhere
, as long as she saw him again.

At half past six, she fairly flew outside to wave down a passing hack and cheerfully gave the driver the direction to
Lady Darfield’s. Arriving at the Audley Street mansion, she smiled broadly at the Darfield’s butler when he showed her to the green sitting room where Abbey was on the floor, playing with Alexa.

Her friend clambered to her feet when Jones announced her. “Lauren! What a wonderful surprise!” she exclaimed, greeting her with a fond hug. “I had not expected you! I am so glad you have come. Michael and I have spent the entire day preparing for our return to Blessing Park, and I could sorely use some company.”

“I should have sent a note around, but I was hoping you might do me an enormous favor,” Lauren said, clasping her friend’s hands.

“Of course! What is it?”

“Would you
please
help me with my hair?”

“Your
hair
?” Abbey laughed. “My, my, Countess Bergen, I have never known you to be overly concerned with your hair!”

“I know, I know, but I want it to look, well,
special
.” She dropped Abbey’s hands and pivoted around. “What do you think?”

“I think I have been dying to get my hands on those curls for quite some time! What is the occasion?”

Lauren hesitated. Funny, she had not thought of this awkwardness before now. “Uh, it’s a … nothing,” she blurted.

Abbey’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Nothing, is it?” She suddenly jerked Lauren’s cloak open, eyeing her gown. “Oh, my! It’s
beautiful
! All right,
don’t
tell me, but I can easily guess!” she exclaimed, planting her hands on her hips.

“You can?” Lauren asked fearfully.

“Of course! You are in
love
, Lauren Hill Bergen, and do not think for a moment that you can deny it! Really, it’s not as if he hasn’t made his affections widely known!” she exclaimed, and stooped to pick up Alexa.

Lauren suddenly could not breathe. Had Abbey heard the talk Ethan had mentioned? Dear God, how did she
know
! “I—I do not know what you mean,” she said shakily.

Abbey laughed, hoisting Alexa onto her hip. “Honestly, Lauren,
everyone
knows Count Bergen is wild for you! Oh, I am so happy for you, I truly am! It is going to happen, is it not?”

Astounded and relieved Abbey thought her affections were for Magnus, Lauren laughed uneasily. “Is
what
going to happen?”

“Why, marriage, of course!” Abbey laughed.

“Marriage?”

“You mean he has not
offered
for you?” Abbey asked, incredulous.

“No! I mean, yes—I mean—”

“Lady Marlaine calling, madam,” Jones said from the doorway.

“Oh,
wonderful
! We shall have a little party, shall we? A celebration of sorts! Two weddings in one year!” Abbey giggled delightedly. “Please show Lady Marlaine in,” she said to Jones, then turned an endearing grin to Lauren. “You must promise you won’t say a word until I come back from the nursery, do you promise? Hold onto every single thought!” she exclaimed happily, and fairly skipped out of the room, explaining to Alexa that mummy was going to have a tea party.

There would be no tea party if Lauren could help it. Mortified to the very tips of her toes that Marlaine was here, she searched frantically about the room for an escape, at
least
a place to hide. A wave of bitter shame rumbled through her, and she rushed blindly to the window. At the sound of the door opening, Lauren whirled around, bracing herself against the window sash.

Marlaine looked as surprised as she was, and stood uncertainly at the threshold for a long moment. A little pale, but nonetheless very pleasingly dressed in apple green,
Marlaine moved slowly and elegantly into the middle of the room. Lauren felt like a lump of pearl-pink clay standing at the window as she was, shame and horror seeping through every pore.

“Good afternoon,” Marlaine said politely.

“Lady Marlaine,” Lauren choked.

“I apologize, I did not mean to interrupt. Jones did not mention—”

“Oh no, please, you are not interrupting—I—I called unexpectedly. Lady Darfield has gone to the nursery, but … but she should be back at any moment.”

Marlaine nodded and glanced around the room before moving toward a settee covered in gold china silk. Searching for
something
to say, Lauren blurted, “I, uh, I understand you have been away?”

Marlaine’s head jerked unnaturally toward her, and Lauren immediately regretted her choice of words. “Yes. My grandmother has been very ill—”

“I am terribly sorry.”

“She is much improved, thank you,” Marlaine said coolly. She sat gingerly on the edge of the settee, nervously smoothing her hands over her skirt. “I hurried back to London once she started to mend.” She paused, looking quite awkward. “You—you cannot imagine how much there is to do before a duke’s wedding,” she said, looking at her lap.

Lauren’s hand slipped from the window sash, falling limply to her side. “It must be daunting,” she muttered, swallowing past the guilt lodged in her throat.

“Oh my, yes, indeed it is. The caterer, the florist … the trousseau. And it is so very hard to decide what one should take on the wedding trip.”

“I am sure.” God help her, she was going to expire right where she stood.

“So many details, and then there is the distraction of my very eager fiancé.” Marlaine laughed tightly. “He claims to have missed me terribly.” She lifted her lashes, looking at
Lauren from the corner of her eye. “I hope you won’t think me indelicate, Countess Bergen, but he could hardly keep his hands from me! He actually begged me to run away and marry him.
Today!
” She laughed, a strange, choking laugh.

Lauren’s stomach plummeted. Alex could not have asked her that, not today, not after last night. But why would Marlaine lie to her? She focused on the door and swallowed past a wave of nausea, wondering if she could make it there without collapsing.

Marlaine coughed lightly. “He—he
swears
he cannot abide the wait until we are married, but I made it quite plain he must. Do you know I actually considered it? But there are so
many
expectations—he’ll just have to be patient a while longer.” She laughed again, a little hysterically.

Lauren felt her own hysteria rising. Like a volcano.

“I beg your pardon, Countess. It’s just that—” she looked up again, catching Lauren’s horrified gaze “—it’s just that I care for him desperately. Do you know what it is like to care for someone so desperately?”

Not trusting herself to speak, Lauren weakly shook her head.

Marlaine flashed a smile, one that did not erase the peculiar look in her eyes. “I would do anything for him, you know, but one cannot sprint off to Gretna Green … Not in our position, anyway. There are so many others to consider, no matter how anxious the groom! Well, that is quite enough of that,” she said, with a dismissive flick of her wrist. “What a lovely gown—are you going somewhere special this evening?”

“No,”
Lauren choked. “I really must be going—”

“Oh no, I would not hear of it! I did not mean to interrupt your visit with Lady Darfield.”

“Really, I cannot stay.” On wooden legs, she lurched for the door, desperate to get out of that room and as far away from Marlaine Reese as she could before she burst into a torrent of tears. She rushed from the room so hastily, she did
not see Marlaine sink against the settee, press her hands against her stomach, and bend over with grief.

   She had no idea where she was going. Walking aimlessly through Hyde Park, blind to everything and everyone around her, she wanted to die. The ache in her chest had started the moment Marlaine had entered Abbey’s cozy sitting room, had become intolerable by the time she fled, and was now an unrelenting, throbbing pain in every limb. She was not quite sure which hurt worse. The disgrace and shame she had brought on herself? Or that Alex had wanted to elope with Lady Marlaine today, of all days? God, the rooster could not even
wait
for his wedding! Was she such an incredible
fool
?

She did not see Lord and Lady Fairlane until she was almost upon them. She tried her damndest to smile and murmur a greeting. Lord Fairlane nodded curtly; Lady Fairlane pretended she had not seen her at all as they quickly sailed past. Confused by their behavior, Lauren stopped and glanced over her shoulder at the passing couple.
These people will cut you dead.
Magnus’s warning came back to her, and she choked on a bitter sob. A hoyden, that’s what she was. A woman of moral depravity, as common as a tavern wench.

But then what was
he
? What about the things he had said, the earnest way in which he spoke? I
will find a way for us
, he had said.
Damn
him! He had meant something altogether different than what she thought! No doubt he meant a tidy little flat somewhere—dear
God
, she had
asked
him to make love to her! An intense wave of shame flooded her, and she brought her hands to her cheeks, forcing herself to walk. All right, all right, she may have asked him, but
he
was the one who had contrived to meet her at the opera! He was the one who said he wanted her as he had never wanted another! He had said so many sweet,
tender
things, but he had not once admitted to loving her. She was so bloody
stupid
to have interpreted his lust as love!

Unable to choke back another sob, Lauren fell heavily onto a bench and buried her face in her hands, sickened by the dawning realization that what had occurred last night had been fantasy.
Her
fantasy. And what in God’s name did she do now?

The sun had almost disappeared when she at last lifted her head. There was only one plausible alternative to her bleak situation. She had to get as far away from Alex Christian as she could. As far away from London as was possible. From England, for that matter.

Having made her decision, she stood and slowly began to walk in the direction of Bedford Square where Magnus had taken a house.

   Magnus did not like the frumpy man he had hired to be his butler; he seemed to spend most of his time in the kitchens with the scullery maid. The inability to hire good help was the single most annoying curse of being a foreigner, he was quite convinced. If he had not happened to be walking near the entry, no one would have heard the rapid knocking on the door. Grumbling in German, he stalked to the door and flung it open.

He gasped. From the strands of dark hair blowing in all directions, to the hem of her gown stained with the dirt of the street, Lauren looked as if she had been physically beaten. She started to speak, but the words died on her tongue. Alarmed, Magnus caught her before she sank onto the steps and pulled her inside. “
Liebchen
, what is wrong?” he asked desperately, his big hands smoothing the hair from her face. “What is wrong?”

“Magnus, I have to talk to you,” she mumbled, shakily wiping a tear from her cheek.

“Do not try and talk now,” he said, lapsing unconsciously into German. “Let me get you something to drink.” He helped her into the main drawing room and yanked angrily on the bellpull. Seating her on a settee, he
nervously took her hand in his. The butler appeared, his eyes rounding with great surprise when he saw Lauren. “Port,” Magnus barked. He waited until the butler had gone before asking, “What has happened?” Tears pooled in her eyes, and she shook her head. Slowly, she inhaled, obviously trying very hard to regain her composure. “Tell me! Has someone—”

“No,” she whispered.

“What is it? What has happened to you?”

“It does not matter,” she said, flicking a limp hand at the unknown. “Magnus, I have considered your generous offer. I accept.”

He gaped at her in surprise. The butler entered, carrying a tray with a full decanter of port and crystal glasses. Magnus impatiently motioned for him to place the tray on a table nearby and leave. “I do not understand,” he said, reaching for the port.

“I will marry you,” she said weakly, shaking her head to the port he offered. “But … but I have two conditions.”