Read Song Of The Nightingale (DeWinter's Song 1) Online

Authors: Constance O'Banyon

Tags: #Historical, #Romance, #Fiction, #Regency, #19th Century, #Adult, #Adventure, #Action, #SONG OF THE NIGHTINGALE, #British Officer, #Protector, #England, #Five Years, #Treachery, #Duchess, #English Castle, #Battlefields, #Waterloo, #London, #Extraordinary Love, #Honor, #Passion, #DeWinter Family

Song Of The Nightingale (DeWinter's Song 1) (20 page)

BOOK: Song Of The Nightingale (DeWinter's Song 1)
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Kassidy shook her head. “I do not want to conquer anyone, Aunt Mary. All I feel is humiliation.”

Mary took Kassidy’s chin, raised her face and said softly, “You did nothing to be humiliated about. You are no longer going to sit at home playing the docile little wife. You will never again be exposed to a tawdry display like the one you faced today. You are going to make Raile DeWinter so miserable and so jealous he’ll want to take you to the country with him and hide you from all other men.”

“I don’t want to be with him,” Kassidy said, some of her spirit returning. “I must never forget he married me out of obligation and pity.”

“No, dearest. That’s why he thought he married you. We have some surprises for your husband. With my help, you are going to bring him to his knees.”

Kassidy leaned back and closed her eyes. “I want never to see him again.”

Lady Mary nodded. “You are angry, and that’s what I want you to feel, because your anger will give you the will to fight back. Just follow my guidance, and you will have more excitement in your life than you ever imagined.”

“But how?”

“You are a married woman, and that gives you a freedom you never had as an unmarried girl. You can attend all the balls and parties and dance with whomever you choose, and no one will fault you.” She laughed aloud. “You are going to have fun while you win that husband of yours.”

“He will never love me, Aunt Mary. He told me that the day he asked me to marry him.”

Lady Mary shook her head at Raile’s folly. “Did he, indeed? We’ll just see about that.”

“I never expect to have his love, but I will have his respect,” Kassidy said stubbornly.

“You’ll have more than that. Raile DeWinter will fall so hard for you, you will have him begging for your favors.”

Kassidy doubted Raile had ever begged a woman for anything. “I will do as you say, Aunt Mary. But all I want from Raile is that he beg my pardon for what happened at Madame Estelle’s today,” she said with determination.

 

23

 

Kassidy stared at the parcels that were stacked on her bed and on every available chair and spilled over onto the floor. There were gowns for every occasion, made of delicate imported silks, stiff satins, and soft muslin. Each one had been designed by a master hand. There were shoes, underclothes, bonnets, shawls and capes, and so many other items that Kassidy could not remember them all.

She was feeling guilty. “I cannot think what drove me to such extravagance, Aunt Mary. Surely no one could wear all these gowns in a year. There are too many.”

“Nonsense,” Lady Mary said, holding a yellow satin gown up to Kassidy and nodding approvingly. “These will only get you through this Season. You will need others for fall and still others for winter.”

“Oh, I dare not purchase more. I am loath to think what Raile will say when he receives an accounting of this day’s shopping.”

“You need have no concern on that score. I happen to know that your husband has no worry about money.

His mother left him a great fortune, and when his mother’s brother died childless, the remainder of the family wealth also went to Raile. What you spent on clothing will seem like a mere trifle to him. And, do not forget, he will want you to be a credit to him.”

Kassidy remembered Raile’s mistress flaunting the diamond bracelet Raile had given her and felt renewed indignity. “Sometimes I wish I had never heard of Raile DeWinter.”

Lady Mary picked up a goblet and handed it to Kassidy. “Don’t think about him now. You must drink this concoction that is my own creation. It’s heavy cream with honey and crushed strawberries. If you drink one glass in the morning and one at bedtime, in no time at all, your complexion will glow with health.”

Kassidy wrinkled her nose with distaste, but obediently lifted the drink to her lips, only to find it had a most pleasing taste.

“Tonight,” Lady Mary said, lifting a shimmering white tulle ball gown that was adorned with white silk roses, “you will make your first appearance as the duchess of Ravenworth. I believe I’ll have Betty weave fresh white roses in your hair, rather than jewels. Yes, with your pure beauty, you need no artificial adornment.”

Kassidy touched a long lock of her hair and it curled about her finger. “I was ill for so long, and looked so sickly, and then I met that. . . woman, and she was so exquisite. I suppose I have lost my confidence.”

“You are breathtakingly lovely, but you don’t need me to tell you that. I fancy by the end of the evening you will have had dozens of gentlemen complimenting your beauty.”

Kassidy threw off her gloom and smiled. “I have never been to a ball,” she said with excitement. “Tell me what it will be like.”

Lady Mary’s eyes sparkled. “There will be music and dancing, and of course food of every description—some you’ll recognize and others you won’t. There will be card games for those who fancy cards. Most of all, everyone will strut about, showing off their finery.”

“I remember Mother and Father having parties, but I was too young to attend.”

“You do know how to dance, don’t you?” Aunt Mary said with a worried frown.

“Yes. Mother insisted we have a dancing master. Of course, that was a long time ago. Perhaps I will not know the latest dance steps.”

“I fault your brother for this. He should have entertained for you and Abigail and not been so miserly. But let’s not spoil the evening by thinking of Henry. Come, sit before the mirror.” Lady Mary nodded to Betty, who was waiting to do Kassidy’s hair. “I believe we’ll arrange her hair in tiny curls to frame her face and let it fall naturally down her back. Here,” she said, handing the maid three perfect white roses. “These will do nicely.”

 

Kassidy leaned over the cradle and softly caressed Arrian’s cheek while the child smiled at her and waved her arms in excitement.

“Isn’t she extraordinary?” Kassidy asked, glancing up at her uncle George, who had just entered the nursery.

He moved to the cradle and nodded. “I’d say she is.” He extended a finger and the baby clasped it. “It’s been over twenty-seven years since there has been a baby in this nursery. I find myself coming in here more and more. I suppose I’ve missed having a child about.”

Kassidy stood on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. “I always thought Margaret was fortunate to have you for a father.”

He looked pleased. “Now did you? I always thought of myself as a fortunate man that your Aunt Mary accepted me as her husband with all the other prospects she had to consider.”

Kassidy linked her arm through his. “That’s because Aunt Mary knew what a perfect husband you would be.” Her eyes softened. “It’s easy to see that the two of you were meant to be together.”

“I suppose you are right—at least about me. I have never known an unhappy day with your aunt— each day with her is an adventure. She is everything one would want in a wife: beautiful, unpredictable.” He cleared his throat and avoided Kassidy’s eyes. “But there now, I’m running on, and I forgot the reason I came here. Your aunt says if we don’t leave now, we’ll be late for the festivities.”

Kassidy twirled around in a circle. “Do you like my new gown?”

“Indeed I do. You remind me so much of your aunt at your age. She broke all the young men’s hearts, and I suspect she still does.”

“Yes, but she loves only you.”

“Of that I have no doubt.” He hugged Kassidy to him. “Your aunt and I both want to see you happy, Kassidy. And you will be. I speak from experience. I tell you with assurance that you will one day know great happiness in your marriage.”

“But not all men are as wonderful as you, Uncle George,” she replied, wishing Raile would look at her the way her uncle looked at her aunt. With a resigned sigh, she said, “We had better not keep Aunt Mary waiting.”

She bent to kiss the baby, who had by now fallen asleep. Then she joined her uncle in the hall.

“Is it true that the prince will be at the gala tonight, Uncle George?”

“Indeed he will. You have never met him, have you, my dear?”

“No, I never imagined I would have an occasion to meet him.”

George paused at the top of the stairs. “You should not be too impressed by him, Kassidy. You see, Prinny isn’t brilliant, he merely manages, thank God, to surround himself with brilliant people. His limited interests are gambling, architecture, and women. I have known him to babble like a baby with tears rolling down his cheeks over a lost love, and he is most usually drunk. This is the man who will one day be our king.”

Kassidy had never known her uncle to say an unkind word about anyone, and she was surprised by his assessment of the prince. “But he will be king, be he worthy or not.”

“If he lives long enough, he certainly shall. I don’t have to tell you that there are many of us in the House of Commons who wish it did not have to be so.” He shook his head sadly. “But he is our burden, and we will bear him on our shoulders.” He took her arm and accompanied her down the stairs, where his wife waited impatiently in the entryway.

“See how the fire plays in her eyes when she is perturbed about something,” he whispered to Kassidy. “I’m a most fortunate man indeed.”

 

The stiff-necked butler took the invitation from George Rindhold, and announced in a clear, distinct tone: “The duchess of Ravenworth, Lady Mary Rindhold, and Mr. Rindhold.”

Curious heads turned in Kassidy’s direction as she stood beside her aunt and uncle. She was unaware of the admiring glances that followed her as she gracefully descended the seven steps that brought her into the ballroom.

In no time at all they were surrounded by gentlemen who insisted on being introduced to Kassidy. After a while, she lost her apprehension and began to enjoy herself. She felt young and carefree as she danced with one partner after another.

Later in the evening, Lady Mary tapped her husband on the shoulder and nodded at Kassidy, who was encircled by admiring gentlemen. “I knew she would be a sensation. Look how all the other women stare at her with envy. She is an incomparable.”

George nodded. “She is the sensation of the evening, right enough, Mary, but take care you do not push too far.”

“What do you mean?”

“Raile DeWinter is not a man to toy with, my dear.”

“You disapprove of introducing Kassidy to our friends?” she inquired innocently.

He smiled, knowing the game she was playing. “Not at all, my dear. I just know you, and I would caution you to tread lightly.”

Lady Mary was thoughtful. “It’s just that I want Kassidy to be happy, and I believe that happiness lies with Raile DeWinter. But they cannot have a marriage from a distance. I’m merely going to get his attention.”

Kassidy was unaccustomed to compliments, and felt uncomfortable at the flowery tributes that were so casually spoken in her ear. She supposed this was the way gentlemen behaved in London.

She managed to slip away unseen, hoping no one would follow her. Her feet hurt and she wanted a breath of cleansing air away from the smoke-filled ballroom. She leaned against a statue of some long dead English king, and glanced across the stone balcony at the flickering lights of London. How far away she was from her girlhood home. Was this what her life was going to be like from now on? she wondered.

A dark shadow fell across her face, and she looked up to find a gentleman smiling down at her.

“We have not been introduced, but I have been watching you all evening, your grace.”

Kassidy was in no mood for more speeches about her beauty. “How dull it must have been for you, sir.”

She turned to walk away, but his laughter stopped her. “Pray allow me to introduce myself. I am Lord Justin Callaret. And perhaps I can redeem myself with you by first telling you that I’m an old friend of your husband’s.”

She paused. “You know Raile?”

“Quite well. We have been friends since boyhood and served together in Spain and finally at Waterloo.”

While he was talking, Kassidy assessed him. He was blond and handsome, with a cleft in his chin, almost boyish in looks. If this man knew Raile, perhaps she could learn more about her husband from him.

“How long have you known my husband, my lord?”

“Since before his mother died. Raile was always the serious one. He studied in school and actually had the instructors’ approval.”

“And you, my lord?”

“I did not study and didn’t have the instructors’ approval.”

Kassidy found Lord Justin amusing. They had begun to move down the wide steps leading to the garden below. She was unaware that he was leading her down a path brightly lit by Chinese lanterns.

“So you served under Wellington, as my husband did?” she asked with interest.

“Yes. But there again, Raile overshadowed me. He came home a hero, while I was sent home with a broken arm—not a battle wound, mind you, but broken when I fell from my horse while on parade.”

Kassidy could not help but laugh. “Surely you are much too hard on yourself, Lord Justin.”

“I can assure you I speak only the truth, your grace.”

They paused beneath a swaying multicolored lantern. “What else do you and my husband not have in common?”

He looked down at her, and drew in his breath at her startling beauty. “We don’t have you in common. Where did Raile find you?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

He reached out and caught her gloved hand, taking her by surprise. Slowly he raised her hand to his lips. “Would that I had seen you first.”

She was young and inexperienced, and he was a most charming gentleman. “And what would you have done, Lord Justin, had you seen me first?” she dared to ask.

His arms slipped about her waist, and he pulled her toward him. She was stunned as he dipped his head to touch his lips to hers.

Kassidy jerked away. “Sir, your actions are reprehensible. No man, not even my husband, would dare take such liberties.”

He stared at her in disbelief. “Are you saying that Raile has never kissed you? That cannot be the Raile I know.”

Before she weighed the consequences, Kassidy blurted out: “Not like that. Raile and I hardly know one another.”

A look of amusement was replaced by that of naked desire. Lord Justin moved closer to her, his hand trailing down her arm. “I wonder what it would be like to light a fire within you, little virgin duchess.”

Kassidy spun away from him, her breasts heaving with indignation. “That’s something you will never know.” She turned around to leave, but was confused when she saw too many paths leading in different directions.

She looked at Lord Justin. “If you will be so kind as to direct me to the ballroom, I will be glad to be finished with your company, my lord.”

“But of course, my little virgin duchess.”

“Lord Justin,” someone spoke up from the pathway, catching their attention. “No wonder you are hiding away from the rest of us. Who is this vision of loveliness you keep to yourself?”

Kassidy saw several people walking toward them. The man who had spoken was dressed in red satin, which looked grotesque on his bulky form.

“This, Your Highness, is Raile DeWinter’s wife, the duchess of Ravenworth.” Lord Justin spoke up, bowing slightly to the Prince of Wales.

BOOK: Song Of The Nightingale (DeWinter's Song 1)
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