Portrait of a Scandal (20 page)

Several people stopped them as they moved through the room. It seemed that all they passed wanted to be introduced to the new Marchioness of Sterling. The men were very gracious, while most of the women seemed interested in her, but there were a few that seemed to find her lacking.

Lady Alexandra, who was married to Sir Walter Carlyle, was one of these women.

“That is a charming gown, Lady Sterling,” Lady Alexandra said, her tone implying nothing of the kind.

“Indeed it is,” commented the Countess of Roth, an amiable and homely looking woman. “I do love the pale shade. It is not quite ivory—bluer really. Where did you find the fabric?”

“My mother acquired it on our travels though Persia several years ago.”

“It is divine. I applaud her good taste,” the countess said warmly.

“But the cut is very last season. I would have thought a marchioness could have afforded a new wardrobe,” Lady Alexandra said, and took a smug sip of her punch.

Nellie felt Thomas’ arm stiffen under her own and saw the countess’ shocked expression. She glared at Lady Alexandra, while Thomas’ mother looked about ready to explode. Whether it was from the insinuation of lack of money or simply her rudeness, Nellie couldn’t say, but regardless, she gave no one else time to speak before she herself could address this vulgar woman.

“The idea of leaving my dear husband to attend dress fittings seems like such a squander of the day, especially since I value our time together in other pursuits so much more,” Nellie said with a sexual undertone, gazing up at Thomas.

He seemed taken aback for a moment until his eyes darkened. “Indeed, wife.”

Lady Alexandra was given no time to comment, since the countess took Nellie’s other arm and led her and Thomas away. “I am so dreadfully sorry, but I must commend you on your handling of the matter.” The woman chuckled. “Her husband has just taken a new mistress and she is not at all pleased. She is taking it out on all of us. I’m surprised Countess Lieven issued her a voucher to attend,” she said, and looked to the duchess.

“She will not get another when I have my say,” Nellie’s mother-in-law muttered.

Nellie radiated unease and Thomas hated it. Yet none who did not know her would notice. She smiled and conversed like a true lady, but the tension he felt flowing from her was acute. She was here for her mother’s sake, nothing more. And he was here for hers, nothing more.

Thomas had never understood why women took receiving the vouchers for admittance to Almack’s as the highest accolade of high society. Once one had received an invitation, one had made it, amongst the
ton
, at least. How sad.

Nellie had brought his disinterested point of view to his attention and though he was now aware of it, it oddly hadn’t changed much. He still thought Almack’s was nothing more than an outlet for the patronesses to feign importance, deciding those who gained admittance and those who did not. The food was bad, served late and stale, and he found it odd that no one commented on it. It was likely for fear of being barred. Perhaps he should remark on it when they saw Countess Lieven? However, he would not embarrass his mother or Nellie with the unseemly remark, no matter how tempting.

“Oh, spare us,” mumbled the Countess of Roth.

It took Thomas a moment to understand the countess’ meaning until he noted Lady Mary approaching, her eyes sharp as she gazed at Nellie by his side. Once she locked eyes with Thomas, Lady Mary forced a smile. Nellie stiffened beside him.

“Hello, Lady Mary,” his mother said diplomatically. “I hear our congratulations are in order?”

“Indeed,” she said, her gaze still lingering on Nellie.

Thomas felt himself unable to avoid glaring in Mary’s direction. Her very presence irritated him immensely. He did not want Nellie anywhere near this mendacious woman.

“Allow me the pleasure of introducing my husband, Mr Mario Popellie, youngest son of Lord and Lady Muellie of Rome,” Lady Mary announced with an indication to the man beside her. “My dear, allow me to introduce the Duchess of Sterling, the Countess of Roth and the Marquess of Sterling. I am sorry to say I am not familiar with you,” she said to Nellie rather blandly, feigning disinterest when Thomas knew it to be anything but.

“Allow me to rectify,” Thomas said tightly. “This is my wife, the Marchioness of Sterling.”

Lady Mary’s face hardened. “It seems we should be offering our congratulations as well, my Lord.”

Thomas gave a nod but said nothing more. He wanted no excuse for this woman to cause trouble between him and Nellie and from the look in her eye it was not far from Lady Mary’s mind.

“It is a pleasure to gain your acquaintance,” Mr Popellie said in his accented English. He leant forward and kissed Thomas’ mother’s hand, then the countess’, then Nellie’s. His hand and lips lingered on Nellie’s gloved hand for longer than Thomas would have liked.

“Is this your first visit to London, Mr Popellie?” the countess asked.

“
Si
, it is. I must say I am enjoying what I have seen so far. It is all very
bellissima
,” he said and grinned, his eyes moving over Nellie.

Fire raged in Thomas, but Nellie, as always, did not shy away from hiding her true thoughts.

“Why, what a kind thing to say, was it not, ladies?” Nellie asked, not giving the women a chance to argue before she continued, “I, however, have travelled though Italy and while I must admit I loved the food, drink and people, I was shocked by the apparent lack of decorum displayed.” She flicked her gaze from Lady Mary to her husband.

“But I am sure a gentleman like you will be exempt from that assessment,” the countess added, her eyes narrowed. She clearly disapproved of the man.

“Indeed,” Lady Mary said, her eyes firmly on Thomas.

Thomas, however, had been forced to act on his manners long enough. “My dear, they are playing the waltz. Would you care to dance?”

Thomas led them through the waltz and Nellie was glad of it. Had it not been for his sure step, she would likely have tumbled to the floor. Her mind was on other things.

“I must say this is hardly close enough for me, wife,” Thomas whispered in her ear.

Nellie offered a weak smile in return.
Why did Lady Mary have to be here?
Nellie felt ill at being in the same room as the woman, even more so since Thomas was there.

He frowned slightly as the music came to a stop. “Care to take a break on the balcony?”

“Most definitely.” The fresh air would be a welcome relief from the perfumed stench clouding the overcrowded room.
How hard would it be for these people to take a bath? Then they would not have to douse themselves in perfume.
Nellie almost sighed with relief when the crisp night air hit her face.

“Are you well, my dear?”

Thomas’ face showed concern and Nellie attempted to smile. “Indeed, husband. I am sorry, but the event itself is wearing on me, not to mention the stench of it.”

Thomas’ own nose wrinkled. “Quite so. I am fortunate I have found a wife who is not apprehensive about bathing, unlike the remainder of society.”

“If it were not the case, you might change your mind about sharing my bed every night.”

Thomas squeezed her hands. “No, Nel. Nothing could ever keep me from our bed. You should know that by now.” He chuckled. “But perhaps I might throw you in the tub and have my wicked way with you. Clean and dirty all in one.”

She looked up at the man she loved and could not help but rise to her tiptoes and kiss his lips. She loved him more than her whole life, and she had led him blindly into this marriage. She hated herself for it. Lady Mary’s presence was a weighty reminder of her deception.

She broke the kiss regretfully. “Would you mind retrieving me a glass of lemonade?”

He nodded but frowned slightly also, looking around them and finding no one else on the balcony. “Of course. Will you be all right?”

“Quite. I am merely basking in some fresh air.”

Thomas leant down and kissed her, wrapping his arms around her firmly, before he broke away and ran his thumb over her cheek. He offered a warm smile before he set about his task.

Nellie needed a moment alone to gather her chaotic thoughts. She had come here for a reason tonight—to carry out her mother’s dying wish, no matter how silly it now seemed to be. Here she was, in a place in which she did not want to stand, in the company of the very woman who Nellie could barely be in the presence of without wanting to be ill.

Lady Mary had looked at her with such disdain that Nellie knew she should be offended, but she was anything but. She felt nothing but disgust for a woman who thought so little of herself as Lady Mary obviously did, offering herself to so many men, but the thought that this woman had touched Thomas made her want to weep.

“A charming night.”

Nellie spun at the accented words to see the pompous-looking Italian standing only a few feet away. Her attention flicked to the door that led back into the ballroom. Thomas was nowhere in sight.

“It is remiss of your husband to leave you alone,” Mr Popellie said with a smirk, his gaze moving over her body as if he knew what lay beneath her dress. Nellie had the sudden urge to bathe. How dirty his gaze made her feel!

“Lord Sterling has merely gone to fetch me a glass of lemonade. He will be back momentarily,” she offered, in the hope that he would leave, but he did not. He took a step towards her and Nellie felt the stone banister against her back. She felt trapped, and likely was. He stopped a foot away and smirked.

“Then I had best be quick about it.”

Nellie glared. Who did this man think he was? “Mr Popellie, I would appreciate it if you would remove yourself from my vicinity.”

He clicked his tongue. “Come now,
bella
, you do not truly mean that. I mean to be friendly, that is all. In fact, I sought you out to offer you a position as my mistress. I would indeed like to feel the softness of your skin beneath your dress.” He raised a hand to touch her breast, and Nellie slapped it away.

“Do not touch me,” she spat, and pushed past him.

“You heard the lady,” said a threatening voice from the side of the balcony.

Nellie spun around to see a brooding figure move onto the top step leading from the small garden below, and into the candlelight. Nellie sagged with relief as she recognised Lord Headline. He strode forward, his lethal gaze on the Italian as he came to stand by Nellie. Nellie turned and stepped back closer to Headline, so very thankful for his sudden appearance. She took another step back and bumped into him from behind. He put a hand up to steady her, but his eyes were still locked on Mr Popellie, she noted as she looked back at him.

“Leave,” Headline snarled.

A shudder ran the length of Nellie’s body at the venom in his voice, but she did not fear him.

As the Italian offered a parting smile and re-entered the ballroom, Nellie sagged against Headline for a moment. She felt safe there with him, but she suddenly realised she had felt this way before. Nellie frowned and stepped away from him, turning to look up at her husband’s best friend. Thoughts raced through her mind, but she shook her head in an effort to ward them off.

“Thank you, Lord Headline.” Nellie could not help but shudder. “I am very grateful for your sudden appearance.”

Headline watched the ballroom for a moment more before he looked down at her and gave a nod.

“Ah, Headline—I see your mother has dragged you here as well,” came Thomas’ amused voice as he appeared by Nellie, handing her a glass of lemonade.

“Lady Mary’s new husband just propositioned your wife,” Headline stated.

Thomas blinked once, then turned a glare on Nellie. She bristled.

“Do not glare at me, Thomas! I did not provoke him, nor did I encourage him. In fact, I am fairly certain my actions were exactly the opposite.”

“She is right. I witnessed the encounter,” Headline stated.

Nellie turned her own glare on Lord Headline. His first words to her husband had been that she had been propositioned. Why had he not immediately followed up his first statement with his second?
Men!
She glared at them both as she downed the glass of weak liquid in a single gulp.

“I have attended this event and now I wish to retire. Thank you, Lord Headline. Your chivalry is very much appreciated,” Nellie said, raising her hand to her chest in an effort to tame her racing heart.

* * * *

Thomas watched his wife. They had not spoken in the carriage ride home, nor since they had entered the house. Nellie was not one of those chits who talked endlessly, but she was never silent for long. The only other time she had been this quiet was the night after their marriage, the night they had quarrelled. Was she angry with him now? He did not think so, but her actions puzzled him.

They walked up the stairs to their chambers. Nellie pushed opened her door and Thomas noted Anne stood waiting to help her mistress undress.

“Anne, I would like a moment. I’ll call when I need you.”

Anne nodded. “Very well, my Lady.”

“Thomas,” Nellie called, as she turned in the middle of the room. “May I have a moment of your time?”

He walked into her room and frowned at her, closing the door behind Anne. “Nel, what is wrong? Is it Mr Popellie? I can assure you that man will be drawn and quartered if he so much as approaches you again,” Thomas stated, feeling the unfamiliar clench of jealousy in his gut. Nel was his and he would never share her, never again.

“You may feel differently when you hear what I have to say.”

Thomas paused in his approach. “Pardon?”

Nellie clenched her hands before her and dipped her head, closing her eyes before she looked back up to him, wetness sparkling on her lashes. He started towards her but she held up her hand, effectively stopping him.

“No. This is hard enough for me, but I can no longer hide it from you. It is killing me inside.”

His heart stopped. She hated being here? Thomas was sure his heart was about to fail him.

“I can no longer live this lie.”