The Pretenders (19 page)

Reeve said grimly, “Something as momentous as Lord Bradford’s eldest son getting beaten into a pulp would have been common knowledge to every person in that pub last night”

The nightingale had now launched into a full-fledged aria.

I waved my fan again at an imaginary insect “Oh, I doubt that Robert got beaten into a pulp,” I said. It was probably only a little round of fisticuffs, such as the two of you indulged in.”

“For God’s sake, put down that fan and look at me, Deb,” Reeve said angrily. ”Bernard had Robert barricaded in his room for two days!”

I closed my fan with a snap. “What did Harry say?” I temporized.

“He claimed to know nothing about it but I don’t believe him either.”

The first nightingale had been joined by another and the double-throated beauty of their song was heartrendingly lovely.

“It has to do with you, doesn’t it?” he demanded.

I opened the fan again. “Why do you say that?”

“Look at your face, Deb! It’s a dead giveaway.” He took the fan right out of my hand. ”You’d better tell me what happened. You know that I’m going to find out, one way or another.”

I thought gloomily that having a husband who could read one’s face like a book could prove to be a definite drawback.

I bit my lip. “If I tell you, Reeve, you must promise me that you won’t do anything rash.”

“What did he do?” he asked grimly.

“You have to promise me, first.”

The sky was growing dark enough for the stars to begin to appear. The nightingales sang on in perfect harmony. We faced each other on the graveled garden path, at odds for one of the few times in our lives.

He said, “I’m not promising anything until I hear what happened.”

I folded my arms across my chest. “Then I won’t tell you.”

“
Deborah
.” He dropped my fan onto the walk, lifted his hands, and his fingers bit into my shoulders so hard that they were sure to leave bruise marks.

He never called me Deborah.

“Tell me,” he commanded.

I took a deep, unsteady breath and told him what had happened the night Robert had come to my room.

When I had finished, I expected him to be furious, to curse Robert, to vow vengeance. Instead he said nothing at all. His face looked frozen.

“I didn’t want to tell you because I was afraid you would do something to Robert,” I said. ”Lord Bradford said you would call him out, and I didn’t want that“

That frightening, ice-cold look was still on his face.

“Reeve!” I said.

His fingers were still digging into my shoulders.

“You’re hurting me,” I said.

That got through to him. He dropped his hands as if they had been burned. “Oh God, Deb, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”

“I know. It’s all right.” I scanned his face, which was bleached as white as bone in the pale moonlight.

“I’m
all right
, Reeve. That’s the main point, don’t you see? Mama got there in time, and I’m all right“

“He tried to do it because of me, didn’t he?’ Reeve said.

I hesitated.

Reeve answered himself. “Of course he did.”

“He was drunk,” I said. ”He didn’t know what he was doing.”

“Oh he knew what he was doing all right,” Reeve said bitterly. ”When it comes to me, Robert always knows what he is doing.”

I bent to retrieve my fan from the pathway. When I had straightened up again, I said briskly, “Well, Lord Bradford has sent him away, and there’s no reason for us ever to have to see him again.”

He didn’t reply, but began to walk forward again, his mind clearly taken up with what he had just learned. I waited until we were almost at the wood before I asked, as much to distract him as because I wanted to know, “Did you go over to Crendon this afternoon to see Richard like you said you would?”

He brought his attention back to me with a palpable effort. “Yes,” he said. “I have news for you from that front, Deb. Apparently John Woodly has disappeared.”

“Disappeared?” I echoed in confusion.

Reeve elaborated. “Richard doesn’t know where he is. No one knows where he is. Richard has a suspicion that he has left the country.”

We walked in silence while I digested this piece of information. “Then he
was
embezzling from Richard?”

“Almost certainly.”

One of the nightingales had ceased to sing, but the other caroled on in solitary splendor.

Reeve continued, “One of the reasons it was so easy to do it was that Woodly was Richard’s uncle, and Richard trusted him completely.”

It struck me that Reeve himself was in a similar position with Lord Bradford. I also knew immediately that, when it came to Reeve’s money, Lord Bradford was completely trustworthy.

I said as much.

“Bernard would not take a penny that did not belong to him. I have always known that,” Reeve agreed. It was not because I did not trust Bernard that I was so anxious to get control of my own property.”

I rested my face briefly against his shoulder. His coat was warm against my cool cheek. “I know.”

We turned away from the wood and began to walk back toward the fountain. He said, “I talked to Richard about his obligations to your mother, Deb.”

I lifted my face. My fingers tightened on my closed fan. “Yes?”

“He is going to grant her a lifetime allowance of five thousand pounds a year.”

A wave of relief swept through me. It was riches compared to what we had lived on for all of these years.

“That is very generous of him, Reeve.” I laughed a little unsteadily. ”It makes me feel dreadfully guilty about all of the terrible things I have thought about him over the years.”

“It was a mistake not to approach him sooner, but you couldn’t know that at the time,” Reeve said gravely.

We had reached the fountain, and now we stopped in front of it. The moon was bright enough for us to see the bronze figures of cherubs that formed the centerpiece of the great stone bowl. The sound of the splashing water was cool and refreshing and the flowers that surrounded us gave up their fragrant scents to the evening air. I was acutely aware of the dark bulk of Reeve so close beside me in the night. He made no move to reach for me, however.

Instead he said, “Bernard had his solicitor out here today, Deb, and he signed over all of my estate to me.”

I swung around to look up at him. “
All
of it?” I said incredulously. “I thought he was only going to give you half.”

“He changed his mind,” Reeve said. ”He told me that I had matured greatly in the last few months. He said that our marriage will be the making of me.”

He was staring at the fountain, refusing to meet my eyes. There was no expression on his face at all.

I said weakly, “I don’t know what I have done to earn such an endorsement from Lord Bradford.”

“He thinks you will make me happy,” Reeve informed me.

He did not sound at all happy as he said this.

I didn’t know how to answer him.

While he had made no physical motion to move away from me, I felt as if he had withdrawn. He said, “While the solicitor was here, I made a new will.”

I looked up searchingly into his face, but all I could see was his immobile profile outlined against the dark, moonlit sky.

The nightingale was quiet.

“A new will?’ I repeated.

“Yes. The property is entailed, of course, but I want you to know that if anything should happen to me, Deb, your future is secure. I put a hundred thousand pounds into a widow’s jointure for you.”

I felt as if a ghost had walked over my grave.

I tried to speak lightly, “Well, that is very generous of you, Reeve, but I don’t expect to collect on that generosity for at least fifty more years.”

A faint smile touched the corners of his lips, but he did not reply.

I folded my arms across my breast and tried not to shiver.
Don’t be stupid
, I scolded myself.
Surely it is only normal for a man to make a new will when he is going to be married. There is no need for you to feel so uneasy
.

I closed the invisible gap that had opened between us and slid my arms around his waist, wanting to feel him solid and warm under my fingers. After a moment, his arms came around me as well, holding me close against him.

“Tomorrow night at this time …,” he whispered, his lips against my temple.

I shivered, and this time it was in anticipation, not in fear.

CLOUDS MOVED IN AFTER MIDNIGHT, AND IT
rained, but the day of my wedding dawned clear and cool. Mama and Mary Ann and Sally crowded into my bedroom to help me to get ready for the great event.

The two girls, who were my bridesmaids, were excited. Mama was nervous, and trying to hide it.

“Oh, Deborah, your dress is beautiful!” Sally cried as she walked around me, viewing my glory from all sides.

“I can’t believe you found it in Brighton,” Mary Ann agreed, following in Sally’s footsteps. ”It looks as if it must have come from one of the best dressmakers on Bond Street.”

It was, in truth, an extremely lovely dress made of white crape over a blue-satin slip. The neckline was square and I wore the pearl necklace and pearl earrings that Reeve had bought me. Mama herself had done my hair, parting it down the center and pulling it smoothly to the back of my head, where she used the curling iron to turn it into a waterfall of ringlets. Small white roses adorned the top of my head like a crown.

“Don’t forget your gloves,” Sally said, handing me the long, white-kid gloves that went up to my elbows.

As I began to work them onto my fingers, the two girls ran into the bedroom across the hall to look out a window that opened onto the front of the house.

“I think the men are leaving now!” Sally reported, rushing back into my room. ”The phaeton and the curricle are both at the doorstep.”

“They are! They are!” It was Mary Ann’s voice from across the hallway. ”Oh, Reeve looks magnificent, Deborah. You are so lucky!”

“How does Harry look?” I called back to her.

She came into the room, her cheeks pink. “Harry looks very nice.”

I grinned at her.

“Oh Harry is not half as handsome as Reeve,” Sally said carelessly.

Mary Ann’s color deepened.

I winked at her.

She bit her lip.

Mama said, “Are you ready, Deborah? Have we forgotten anything?”

I glanced in the tall pier glass and blinked at the bridal image that was reflected back at me.

“I don’t think so,” I said.

“Girls,” Mama said, “go and see if the carriages with the men have left. It would not do for Reeve to catch sight of Deborah before they meet in church.”

Both girls ran across the room and returned to report breathlessly that the carriages were gone.

“The chaise should be arriving soon for us,” Mama said then.

“Perhaps we should go down,” I said.

Mama nodded.

I could feel the eyes of the servants on me as I walked down the stairs to the front hallway.

I was beginning to grow nervous.

Mama must have sensed my feelings, for she said, “Are you all right, darling?”

I looked into her anxious face. She looked beautiful today in an elegant sarcenet dress she had bought in the same shop where I had bought my wedding gown. The color of the gown was the same blue as her eyes.

I said honestly, “I am feeling a little nervous about being the center of so many people’s attention. I will feel better after I see Reeve.”

The chaise, pulled by Reeve’s four beautiful bays, pulled up in front of the door, and footmen arrived from all over to set the stairs for us and to assist us into the carriage. Mary Ann and Sally rode with their backs to the coachman’s seat while Mama and I faced front.

“Ready, ma’am?” the coachman called to Mama.

“Yes, thank you, Rogers,” Mama called back through the open window next to her.

The chaise moved forward and we were on our way to the church.

Sally and Mary Ann talked the whole way. I did my best to enter into the spirit of their enthusiasm, but all I wanted was for the whole show to be over. Both Reeve and I would have been much happier with a quiet ceremony with only the immediate family in attendance.

Thank God we were getting away by ourselves for a few days! Reeve had taken a room at one of the nicest hotels in Brighton for the next three nights so that we would not have to spend the first few days of our marriage under the curious eyes of Sally and Mary Ann. After the ceremony, we would return to Wakefield Manor for the wedding breakfast, and then drive into Brighton for our wedding night.

As we pulled into the village, I could see that the street was lined with people.

“They’re the ones who couldn’t fit into the church,” Sally informed me. ”You’d better wave to them, Deborah.”

Obediently, I rolled down my window all the way and waved to my assembled well-wishers.

“God bless you, my lady!” a voice called.

“Ah, ain’t she beautiful!” came another.

I smiled. “Thank you, thank you,” I said.

Mercifully, the church came into sight, and the chaise rolled up to the front door. The footman jumped down from the front seat and came to set the steps for us. The four of us alighted and proceeded into the vestibule of the small, stone church.

Lord Bradford was waiting for us. He was to be the one to give me away.

I had a fleeting wish that I had asked Richard to do that office.

Lord Bradford smiled when he saw Mama. Then he looked at me.

“You look lovely, Deborah,” he said.

“Thank you,” I replied stiffly.

The organist was playing something by Mozart.

“Allow me to take you to your seat, Mrs. Woodly,” Lord Bradford said.

Mama gave me an encouraging smile, laid her hand on Lord Bradford’s arm, and went with him down the aisle.

“Reeve and Harry are at the altar already,” Mary Ann said, peering into the crowded church. ”I can see the top of Reeve’s head from here.”

Lord Bradford came back into the vestibule. “Are you ready, girls?”

Sally smoothed her dress. “Ready, Papa!”

My young bridesmaids held their bouquets in front of them, assumed suitably grave expressions, and began to pace one after the other down the aisle.

Lord Bradford offered me his arm, and we followed.

Halfway down, I finally saw Reeve. We were both tall enough for our eyes to meet and hold over the rest of the congregation.

At last we reached the front of the church, and all of us in the wedding party turned to face the Reverend Mr. Thornton, who was standing on the bottom step of the altar. He raised his prayer book and, in a grave and dignified voice, began the service.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of this congregation, to join together this Man and this Woman in holy Matrimony…“

I drew a deep, unsteady breath. The church was warm from all of the bodies that were crammed into it, and I felt the first dampness of perspiration under the crown of flowers that we had pinned so securely to the top of my head.

Mr. Thornton had finished reading the introduction to the service and now he looked sternly at Reeve and me, as he said, “I require and charge you both, as ye will answer at the dreadful day of judgment when the secrets of all hearts shall be disclosed, that if either of you know any impediment, why ye may not be lawfully joined together in Matrimony, ye do now confess it.”

I glanced up at Reeve, as if I expected him to say something.

He was looking gravely back at Mr. Thornton and after a moment, I returned my eyes to the minister as well.

There was a pause. Then Mr. Thornton addressed Reeve and spoke the centuries-old words of the Church of England wedding ceremony: “Wilt thou have this Woman to thy wedded wife, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honor, and keep her in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?”

Reeve looked at me, and said in a very low voice, “I will.”

There was a white line around his nostrils.

Mr. Thornton next turned his attention to me. I heard him asking me if I would obey Reeve and serve him; if I would love, honor, and keep him—all the same things that he had asked Reeve about me. When he had finished, I said in a very firm and confident voice, “I will.”

Reeve and I looked at each other. We continued to look at each other all the while the minister was asking “Who giveth this Woman to be married to this Man?” and Lord Bradford was stepping forward.

Then Reeve took my right hand into his, and we made our vows.

We knelt with bowed heads as the Reverend Thornton prayed over us and then he once more joined our right hands.

“Those whom God hath joined together let no man put asunder,” he said.

Oh, God help me – Reeve and I were
married
.

The morning room was filled with white roses and people by the time Reeve and I got back to Wakefield Manor. The wedding cake was set up in front of one of the windows, a splendid array of food was laid out on two long tables placed on the terrace that led into the garden, and the champagne was flowing.

My brother met us at the door, shook Reeve’s hand, and congratulated him. Then he bent to kiss my cheek.

“I wish you very happy, Deborah,” he said.

I smiled up at him. “Thank you, Richard.”

The next hour was a constant repetition of congratulations and good wishes, and I smiled and smiled until I thought my cheeks would crack.

I cut the cake and had some food and two glasses of champagne and at last Reeve whispered in my ear, “Let’s disappear now, shall we, Deb? You go first. I’ll give you five minutes before I break away.”

He didn’t have to ask me twice. I began to thread my way toward the door, slipping between people who were talking as if they hadn’t had a chance to socialize with each other in a million years. Finally I was in the hallway, where I lifted the skirt of my dress and ran for the stairs before anyone had the chance to stop me.

Susan was waiting to help me take off my wedding gown and put on my traveling dress of a light bisque-colored jaconet. While she was fastening me up the back, Mama came into the room.

“Are you almost ready to go, darling?” she asked.

“Just about,” I replied. ”My portmanteau is already in the chaise.” I picked up my tan gloves from the small rosewood dressing table. ”Reeve said he would come along to fetch me. We’re going to slip down the back stairs and out by the side door.”

As soon as I finished speaking, a light rap sounded on my door.

I went to open it, and Reeve stood framed in the doorway.

“Ready, Deb?” he asked.

He had changed from the evening dress he had worn for the wedding into his more familiar garb of morning coat, buff pantaloons, and Hessian boots.

“Ready,” I said.

I turned to my mother. “I’ll see you in three days’ time, Mama.”

She nodded. “Enjoy Brighton, darling,” she returned, her voice only slightly constricted.

“Don’t worry, Mrs. Woodly,” Reeve said gently, “I’ll take good care of Deb.”

Mama gave him a shadowy smile.

Then Reeve had me by the hand, and we were sneaking down the back stairs like a pair of children escaping from the schoolroom. We walked around the side of the house and found the chaise waiting for us by the front steps.

Reeve handed me in, then he followed. The footman closed the door. The horses started forward. The second part of my wedding day had begun.

We were registered at the Royal Crescent Hotel, which was located on the Steyne in the best part of Brighton. The hotel lobby was all carved walnut and satinwood, with a black-and-white-marble floor and green-marble pillars. Our suite consisted of a bedroom with a carved-rosewood bed, two dressing rooms, and a drawing room. My dressing room had a small alcove off of it where Susan could sleep, and Reeve’s had the same for his valet.

“This hotel apartment is bigger than the house I lived in the whole time I was growing up,” I said with some disapproval as I walked around the opulent quarters Reeve had deemed suitable for his wedding trip.