Karla Darcy - [Sweet Deception Regency 04] (13 page)

Finding a brush and comb on the bureau, Nell pulled the ribbon from the girl's hair, sighing in relief as the curls sprang into life. Forehead puckered and mouth pursed in concentration, the older woman brushed the girl's hair into a cloud of curls around her face, delighted with the shining texture and rich thickness of the hair. Standing back, she nodded in satisfaction.

All in all Lady Titwiliver was well pleased with the bizarre situation. Although both Pax and Leslie were furious over the marriage, Nell had high expectations for the outcome of the union. She hoped the young couple would manage to overcome their resentment long enough to provide the line with heirs, before she herself had to rejoin the gratefully departed Earl. Nell wondered if the Heavenly Choir were attired in drab-colored robes. Surely God, having created flowers, had some sense of fashion.

"My faithful Druscilla spent yesterday sewing this for you." Lady Titwiliver lifted the lace-trimmed ivory dress from the bed, holding it up for Leslie's approval. She slipped it over the young girl's head then stood back to admire the effect. "Dru wears nothing but the most ordinary clothes, but she has magical fingers when helping with one's wardrobe. Poor gel will never marry looking as she does. But then she's not much interested in the gentlemen. At her first post, the old master jumped out of the linen closet, naked as a plucked chicken, and I think it's rather put her off the idea of marriage."

At the mental image of the prune-faced Druscilla and the naked nobleman, Leslie could no longer contain her sense of the ridiculous. The bubble of laughter that convulsed her did much to heal her sense of misuse. Her eyes were bright, and her cheeks were flushed with color as Lady Titwiliver turned her to face the mirror.

Leslie was stunned by the girl in the glass. Shining chestnut curls billowed against her cheeks; wide, blue eyes sparkled with mischief; dew soft lips parted as she emitted a sigh of pure pleasure. There was a sense of unreality for Leslie as she looked at her own reflection. She had never seen herself before as a woman, except the night she wore the gypsy costume. But then she was playing a part, a fragment of make-believe. The ivory-clad vision in the mirror was the girl she was now and the promise of the woman she would eventually become. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Leslie had always been afraid that in being feminine she would become less of a person. But the sense of reality, the freedom to be herself, gave her a warm feeling of pride.

Tearing her eyes away from the mirror, Leslie turned to the older woman hovering anxiously at her shoulder. "Thank you, milady."

Lady Titwiliver's eyes clouded with tears as she read some of the feelings passing through Leslie's mind. She gently hugged the girl, kissing her cheek and patting her back as though consoling a lost child. And perhaps she is a lost soul, the old woman thought worriedly. All her life, Leslie had behaved like a boy and now she was stepping out into the world as a young woman, a wife and a social figure with only the short period of preparation that she and Pax could give her. Lady Titwiliver's heart ached for the sense of bewilderment the child must feel.

"Well, Leslie, it's time. Pax ought to feel like the cock of the walk when he sees you. For with the innate sensitivity of the male, he won't be expecting much."

Leslie held tightly to Lady Titwiliver's hand with her own clammy one. Their dresses whispered softly as they traversed the halls, descended the main staircase and stopped before the doors to the parlor. To Leslie, the room seemed full of people, and she braced her shoulders for courage as she entered.

Standing before the mantelpiece was the parish vicar, Dr. Alden, his usually saintly expression marred by a frown of disapproval. Since he owed his living to the Duke of Ruhaven's favor, he would always do his patron's bidding. But to Leslie, it was apparent that the man was appalled by the situation. It had never occurred to her to wonder what others would think of her masquerade. Leslie suspected if she looked around the room at the hastily gathered servants, she would see disbelief, horror and even some sly lascivious expressions. For a moment she quailed in embarrassment, wanting to run. Pride came to her aid, stiffening her spine as she forced a smile to her trembling lips and nodded blindly to the assemblage.

Her eyes sought Jacko's gnomelike figure pressed against the silken wall. His old face was creased with worry, and his body rigid, hands crossed militantly behind his back. As if he sensed her glance, he turned his head, his eyes opened in stunned disbelief. A grin formed, widening as his heart swelled with pride at the girl he loved as his own child.

Manji, eyes lackluster, drooped beside the little man. By his own code, Leslie knew the giant felt he had betrayed her. She did not know what arguments Pax had used to elicit her friend's cooperation, but they must have been compelling ones. Despite her strong words when Manji had led Pax to her, she loved the old man and had already forgiven him.

Standing at the side of the room, Pax caught his breath in amazement as Leslie entered the room. By God, the girl was a stunner! He blinked several times, wondering how he could have ever taken her for a boy. There was an unmistakable aura of femininity that surrounded her, a sensual earthiness lying dormant beneath the surface. Yet for all that, a dewy innocence clung to the ivory satin figure, reminding him of a medieval painting he had once seen of an angel of purity waiting in attendance on the Virgin. Leslie's hair, which Pax had only seen pulled back, now floated around her head in a cloud of shimmering silk, catching the light and imprisoning it like stars. Her mouth was a feminine confection with full pouting underlip that would beg many a man to be kissed. Though petite, the girl was generously curved, promising delightful intimacies.

Pax was confused as his emotions turned around. One minute he was annoyed at the youth and unsophistication of his bride, and the next, he was soppishly lyrical as he beheld the girl. Despite his tired resignation at the forced marriage, he found his senses stirred. Pax felt a tightening in his groin and shifted, easing his position.

Leslie sensed a movement on the edge of her vision and swung to face Pax. Their eyes locked, and the rest of the room faded into the background. She was uncomfortably aware of the man's assessing glance and straightened her back, glaring defiantly in return. Deaf to all but Pax, she heard the creak of his leather boots as he strode across the carpet to her side.

"You definitely make a better girl than boy," Pax whispered into the ear of his ruffled ward.

"And you, sir, make a better guardian than husband!" Leslie shot back in anger. How dare the man give her compliments when he had only a short time before blackmailed her into this marriage.

Leslie's sharp words were like a splash of cold water on Pax's heated senses. He was unprepared for her swift comeback, expecting her to be more resigned to her fate.

"This husband will never countenance a wife with the tongue of an adder. Take care, Leslie." Pax grasped her elbow firmly, hauling her across the room to stand before the vicar. Leslie's cheeks flamed with embarrassment both at Pax's parental treatment and at the frown of disapproval on Dr. Alden's face.

"This is highly irregular, your Grace," the clergyman began, but was cut off sharply by the glowering nobleman.

"Devil you say, Justin. We've been over all this ground earlier. Just do your duty or I will find a hungrier vicar who would relish living under my benevolence."

Justin Alden's mouth tightened to a thin red line of anger, and he jerked open his prayer book with hands that shook slightly. As the vicar joined the couple in a mournful voice, Leslie thought the bleak atmosphere most resembled the gathering for a funeral. Under feathered eyelashes, she watched Pax's haggard face as he crisply replied to the vicar's questions. She was barely conscious of her own responses, whispering them fatalistically into the taut air of the room. At the end Pax awkwardly leaned toward her, but frightened at the finality of the marriage ceremony, she shrank away from him. His face an impenetrable mask, Pax turned her to the expectant assemblage.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the new Duchess of Ruhaven."

Nell swooped down on the couple, enveloping them both in a cloud of lavender. She had thoroughly enjoyed the ceremony, watching the flicker of emotions cross the various faces in the room. This entire affair had all the dramatic overtones of a Marlow play without the long patches of dialogue she always drowsed through. Her timely visit had certainly born fruit; although by the expressions on the couple's faces, the fruit might be persimmons. Youth was all clash and clamor. Only with advancing age did one relish the more restful qualities of love.

"Well, Pax, I for one couldn't be more delighted. You've done right by the line, although at this moment you may not be best pleased." Nell patted the tall man's arm consolingly. Then turning to Leslie she squeezed the cold hand and led her across the room to accept the good wishes of the wide-eyed servants.

Leslie steeled herself to receive the veiled words of the people who had sheltered her for five years. She thought they would feel betrayed by her actions but was surprised at the warmth of the words hesitantly spoken.

"Could have knocked me over, young Leslie, I mean y-your Grace," Mrs. Tomlinson stammered, red-faced at her own awkwardness. "Might seem outlandish to some," the housekeeper sniffed, "but those who know you these five years are best pleased. You're still our Leslie, even if you're no longer wearin' breeches."

Leslie blinked several times to clear her eyes of tears. The woman's kindness was reflected on most of the faces. The dominant expression seemed to be one of bemusement as they stared at the beautiful girl, wondering how they could have mistaken her for a boy.

"The Captain would be proud to claim you." Jacko's voice was rough-edged with emotion.

Leslie leaned forward to kiss the wrinkled cheek. "I fear he'd not even recognize me in this." She waved her hand at the feminine confection she was wearing.

"Mebbe not at first. But you've your mother's eyes. Don't know why I never realized that, eh, your Grace."

"Don't call me that, you old reprobate." Leslie's eyes narrowed and the old man grinned widely. "I trust we're still comrades."

"That we are, Daffadar." Jacko saluted smartly, bringing a smile to the girl's lips. Then the man sobered, indicating the woebegone figure leaning against the wall.

Casting a wary eye at Pax, who was engaged in talking to the ill-humored Dr. Alden and Lady Titwiliver, Leslie and Jacko made their way to stand in front of the enormous Manji. Even the usual shine on the older man's head appeared dim. Sad slanted eyes stared down into the girl's clear blue ones.

"How long were you under my father's orders, Manji?" Leslie asked softly.

"Seven years, Daffadar. Until his death," came the low voiced response.

"And your last order from the Captain?" she persisted.

"To protect the little one with my life."

"Haven't you done just that by obeying the Duke who also has pledged to protect me?"

"Then I did not break my blood bond with you?" Manji's face was a picture of anxious hope.

"You acted honorably in returning me to safety. Forgive me, my friend, for being angry at the time."

Manji lifted the young girl's hand, heavy with the encrusted Ducal ring, touching it to his forehead in a formal act of reverence. His moustaches stiffened as his eyes kindled warmly in relief.

"There you are, my dear."

Pax's deep voice cut into the warm companionship of the friends, and Leslie turned to him, the smile leaving her face as she stared up at her stern-faced husband.

"Cook has prepared a fine nuptial feast, my dear." He spoke sharply, cut by the change of expression on the girl's face. She had smiles aplenty for those two old connivers but only a cold welcome for her legal husband, he mumbled as he led her from the room.

It was apparent that the servants had worked hard to make the wedding supper a festive occasion. The formal dining room was filled with vases of flowers. The table glittered with a sparkling array of crystal, china and silver. The meal could hardly be termed joyous, Leslie noted wryly. Nell chattered brightly, but even her best efforts fell flat in the face of Pax's grim countenance and the vicar's continued outraged dignity. Leslie felt surrounded by cotton, unable to rise to take part in the sporadic conversation. Partly, she was tired. She remembered her inability to sleep as she sat across from her silent guardian as they made the silent return trip to Windhaven. At the time it had seemed a matter of pride not to permit her eyes to droop. Wearily she regretted her stubbornness as she struggled to follow the conversation.

"My dear, the vicar is leaving."

Pax's sharply spoken words broke into Leslie's thoughts, and she looked around in embarrassment for having so forgotten herself that she had been unaware the meal was over. With proudly raised head, she accepted the platitudes spoken by the white-haired clergyman, knowing that the words themselves were being forced from his lips. In Dr. Alden's eyes, her masquerade appeared quite unforgiveable.

"Never trust a prosing man, Leslie," Nell chirped as the men left the room. "Justin has become a high stickler for propriety. I must remind him sometime how he used to pinch the maids in his younger days. Nothing more insufferable than a reformed rake. Better to stick to one's loose habits and enjoy them."

Nell took in the dark circles under the girl's enormous eyes and sighed regretfully for the success of the night ahead. So much of an adjustment for the child. No time for recriminations, Nell, she said to herself, leading the dazed Leslie from the room toward the main staircase.

"Your things, such as they are, have been moved to your new rooms." At the girl's bewildered glance, Nell continued gently, "You are the Duchess of Ruhaven now. As such, you will be housed in the family suite."

"But, milady, I'd rather... ."

"It was Pax's orders, child. Your things were moved during dinner." In the face of the frightened look, Nell kept her voice brisk and matter-of-fact. "I think you'll like the rooms. My sister-in-law had an eye for bright cheerful colors. The bedroom faces the gardens and is filled with sunshine in the summer."