My Lady Notorious (47 page)

Rothgar stepped forward. “I believe my brother, Captain Lord Cynric
Malloren, would be willing to marry Lady Chastity. He has served the
country well in the army, and is, I think, now interested in doing so
in the administration of the Canadas.”

“The Canadas,” said Augusta dryly as Cyn came forward. “An excellent notion, and so very
convenient
, my lords. It could almost have been planned.”

Chastity wanted the earth to swallow her. Cyn took her hand and squeezed it.

“As the lady is recently bereaved,” said Augusta, “it would be as
well to have the marriage performed privately and soon. I assume that
too presents no problem.”

“It will be as you command,” said Rothgar, admirably straight-faced. A sparkling look flashed between him and Augusta.

The princess’ lips twitched with genuine humor. “Rogue,” she said
reprovingly. “I suppose you intend that I crown all this by standing
witness to the match. Why not? I’m sure my son can be brought to attend
too.”

Chastity stared at the princess in shock. The king as well. Rothgar
lost not one whit of his calm. “Your highness is, as always, supremely
gracious.”

“Indeed,” said Augusta. “You will remember that, my lord. Now, after such drama, I require a room in which to rest.”

She sailed toward the door but halted near the cloak-shrouded body,
eyes fixed on a distant point. The corpse was hastily dragged out of
the way and a small carpet flung on top to cover the blood. The queen
then continued, Elf and Chastity in her wake.

“Good,” said Lady Fanshaw. “Now can we get on with the damn game?”

Later, much later, the Mallorens, Frazers, and Wares gathered to
celebrate and wonder. Except Fort. Fort— silent and deeply
anguished—was with his father’s body.

“My lord,” demanded Chastity of Rothgar, “how much of that was planned?”

He smiled slightly. “Shall I claim all of it, and supernatural
powers to boot? No, but the secret of genius is to be ready to grasp
opportunity. I confess I hoped to push your father into more damning
admissions, but then I did not expect to push him into madness and
violence. I am sorry for it.”

“I’m not, except for Fort’s part.” Chastity faced their shock. “Not
because of what he did to me, but because of what he was capable of
doing. I knew he was mad, but he could conceal it so well. No matter
what sword hung over him, he would never have ceased to weave his
plots, and he cared nothing for anyone else. Think if he had gained
power over England.”

“I fear you are right,” said Rothgar. “The business of the false
letter was planned, of course. I hoped that, if all else failed, it
would throw him off-balance. As it did.”

“And Henry Vernham?” asked Verity.

Rothgar shook his head. “A greedy fool, but I hadn’t expected such
an end. I must confess that at that moment, I began to think as
Chastity does. The earl shot him like a dog. That is a very dangerous
man to leave loose upon the world.”

“And Fort shot Father in turn,” said Chastity. “He is heartsick over it.”

Cyn took her hand. “It had to be done, love, and he was the only one with a clear shot.”

Chastity wasn’t sure about that, but she let it pass. “What of the princess?” she asked. “Why did you invite her?”

“Acceptance by royalty was essential to my plans,” said Rothgar. “I
admit that I did not forget the deep enmity between her and Walgrave. I
hoped that she would support us if she saw it as a means to thwart him.
I did not, you see, expect him to die.”

Chastity shook her head admiringly. “Now tell me, my lord. How was Nerissa Trelyn brought to act? The letter?”

“That is Bryght’s story.”

Bryght Malloren smiled wryly. “Dear Nerissa was delighted to seduce
me in the conservatory. I didn’t have to do a thing but lie back and
enjoy it. Then, as planned, we were trapped. She became rather worried,
for I am the one man of whom her stupid husband is jealous. We
listened, but she had no urge to clear Chastity’s name until I showed
her the letter. I’m afraid Nerissa is not at all pleased with any of
us.”

“I’m not sure the princess is either,” said Verity.

“True, but she is a sensible woman overall,” said Rothgar. “She is
annoyed to be embroiled, but rather grateful to me for casting a cloak
of respectability over this jaunt.” He raised a brow at Chastity. “I
understand Cyn promised that if you were restored to honor, he would
not insist upon marriage, but we have rather forced your hand.”

Chastity looked at her rings. “For once, my lord, he had already broken a promise.”

“Yes,” said Rothgar somewhat severely, “and those rings could have
ruined all. In future, you will kindly not embellish my plots.”

Cyn kissed Chastity’s hand by the rings. “In future, we hope to be free of your plots.”

“Now that’s gratitude for you,” said Rothgar, but he was smiling.

Soon Chastity and Cyn found themselves alone in a house, resting
deeply after the excitement. Most of the public rooms were still being
cleaned after the ball, and all the spare bedrooms were full of guests
who had elected to stay. So they ended up in Cyn’s bedroom, in each
other’s arms on the bed.

“But no impropriety until we’re married,” he said.

“In two days,” Chastity said in wonder.

“As long as your brother keeps his word and consents.”

“Why would he object?”

Cyn’s tone turned wry. “Because the Mallorens are once again at odds
with the Wares. He thinks Rothgar forced him to pull the trigger.”

“How could he think that? No one even knew my father would try to shoot the princess.”

“No, but Rothgar sent Fort to the far side of the hall, so he was
near the princess. When the moment came, either Rothgar or Brand could
have fired at your father, but they didn’t, forcing Fort to it.”

“I saw Rothgar hold Brand back,” said Chastity. “I did wonder.”

She could tell Cyn was troubled too. “I think it was because no one
would think Fort inspired by malice, whereas the enmity between Rothgar
and Walgrave is well known.”

Chastity shivered. “I quite like Rothgar, but at times he makes my blood run cold. Poor Fort.”

“Poor everyone. I hope this doesn’t mean continued bitterness, but
if your brother and mine are going to show their teeth, I thank God
that we, at least, will be far away. You’ll like Acadia, love.”

Chastity leaned back with a contented sigh. “I’m sure I will. It
should be called Arcadia—a perfect place.” She rolled and reached up
for a kiss. “Our own special heaven.”

Cyn kissed her but said wryly. “Have I misled you? It’s a beautiful place, but wild and rough.”

“You’ll be there,” she said simply.

The next kiss grew dangerously deep, but Cyn found the strength to
end it and push her to her feet. “Come on. To your room. After all
this, we’re not going to start again by having you found in a
compromising situation.”

“Ah,” said Chastity mischievously, as he steered her toward the door, “but at least I could be persuaded to marry
you
, sir…”

The wedding was of startling magnificence. Many of the guests had
stayed after the dramatic ball; others had been invited especially for
the wedding—people of social importance, and a sprinkling of avid
gossips.

Prodded by Princess Augusta, the king and his new bride arrived to
take part. George’s ostensible reason was to make sure that his beloved
mother was recovered from her ordeal, but he and his plain German bride
were quite obviously pleased to be present at the event of the year.

After careful consideration—for he was rather dull but very
conscientious—George agreed to allow the Notorious Chastity Ware to be
presented to him, and then laboriously quipped that she was clearly
notorious for her beauty and virtue. His shy wife appeared agreeable,
and commented on the keeper ring so like her own.

Chastity’s wedding gown was a cloud of purest white. She had
hesitated about this, but Rothgar had firmly overruled her. Due to the
shortness of time there was not a great deal of fancy needlework on the
gown, but since it was composed of the most expensive silk Valenciennes
lace, festooned with pearls and diamonds, that hardly mattered.

Rothgar had ordered it. Fort had paid for it, which could be another
reason for enmity. It would have bankrupted a less wealthy family. Fort
had returned—in severest black—to give his sister away. His manner to
all the Mallorens was frigid. By comparison, Bryght Malloren was
positively jovial, for he seemed to be recovering at last from Nerissa
Trelyn’s spell.

Elf and Verity were Chastity’s attendants, but the mother and wife
of the king insisted on sitting by for the robing. Chastity had the
feeling that Princess Augusta hoped to see some sign of wantonness. She
was deeply relieved that the stain had finally worn off her nipples.

Chastity’s very anxiety, her feeling that at any moment this bubble
would burst and leave her naked again before the malice of the world,
appeared to convince Augusta that she was a suitably nervous bride.

Augusta tapped her cheek as she left. “Perhaps you feel hurried into
this match, my dear, but it is for the best. Some of the damage has
been repaired, but as a well-married woman you will be safer,
especially when part of the Malloren family. Few would risk offending
there. And out of the country you will have time to settle into your
new state. My son has appointed your husband aide to General Lawrence,
the Governor of Acadia. I have included a message with the dispatches
to reassure his lady in case any unfortunate rumors might have traveled
there.”

The younger queen accepted the curtsies of all the ladies as she
rose to leave. She raised Chastity and leaned close. “Truly,” she said
in her heavy German accent, “you must not be afraid.” She turned pink.
“It is all… it is rather nice, actually!” She then hurried off.

Chastity shared a hilarious look with her sister, but in truth, she
was touched by the queen’s attempt to soothe her fears. If only someone
would soothe her real fears.

That this would all turn out to be dream.

That her father would appear again to torment her.

That someone would stand at the ceremony to denounce her.

That someone would face her with the question—

Have you ever made love to a man
? She would not be able to lie convincingly.

She trembled slightly as Fort led her to the chapel in Rothgar Abbey.

He sensed her tension and stopped, frowning. “Do you not want to do
this, Chastity? God knows, by any right you should marry him, but I
failed you once, and I won’t a second time. If you wish, I’ll prevent
it, Rothgar and all the Mallorens be damned.”

Chastity knew he’d be glad of a fight. She found a reassuring smile.
“I want it, Fort. Truly. I’m just terrified something will prevent it.”

He smiled back, though bleakly. “Come on, then. Let’s have it done with.”

Cyn wore dull gold velvet trimmed with glittering braid. His hair
was unpowdered. The gold seemed to leap into his eyes at the sight of
her, as if he too had been afraid this event would never take place.

They had been busy these past few days and seen all too little of
each other. In some ways that had been as well, however, as it had
demanded less of their willpower.

Fort hesitated as he handed Chastity over to Cyn. “Hurt her, Malloren,” he said softly, “and I’ll destroy you.”

Cyn merely raised his brows. “The protective brother? A new tack for you.”

Chastity hastily put her hand in Cyn’s and moved between them. He
smiled lazily down at her and kissed her hand. “Hello, Charles.”

Chastity felt the blush and turned her attention to the Abbey’s chaplain.

She hardly followed the ceremony for stretching every sense she
possessed in search of the first sign of disruption, disruption that
would indicate that someone was going to stop this marriage. She spoke
by rote as prompted, and suddenly found herself facing Cyn, her husband.

“Oh,” she said. “But I didn’t do it right! Can we do it again?”

Laughter rippled through the chapel. Cyn’s lips twitched. “Why not?”

So they said their vows again, and this time they looked at each
other, and made their vows solemnly to each other. Then they kissed,
the lightest touching of lips.

Hand in hand, they mingled as the guests took wine and cake.
Chastity saw some close and even cynical looks—especially at her
waistline—but in view of the overwhelming acceptance, especially by
royalty, none turned their back.

Already, she knew, coyly in newssheet, frankly in letters and
gossip, the story of poor Chastity Ware flew about the country, made
even more sensational by the scandalous deaths of Henry Vernham and the
Earl of Walgrave.

Then Cyn drew her into the hall. Even though it was still afternoon and daylight, Chastity looked toward the stairs.

“No,” said Cyn. “I have something else in mind. Your portmanteaux
are in the coach.” He held out a beautiful white velvet cloak, lined
with white ermine. “Will you come, wife?”

“Anywhere,” she said, and he wrapped it around her.

They climbed into the handsome coach, one she knew rather well. She
noted the escutcheon was restored to glory, and Hoskins and a groom
were on the box.

A plain coach was following.

“Jerome and your new maid,” Cyn said in explanation. “We are a respectable married couple, and must act as such.”

“Respectable?” she teased. “That sounds dull.”

He grinned. “O ye of little faith.”

They passed the journey remembering their strange adventures,
retasting the pain and joy, confirming for each other that this dream
was true. Chastity paid little attention to the road until they entered
a busy town.

She looked out. “But this is…” She looked at him. “Winchester?”

They pulled into the Three Balls.

Chastity glowed at Cyn. “The same room?”