A Wedding For The Scandalous Heiress
‘You need money too much to risk Isabella jilting me,’ Magnus was arguing now and she felt the man at her side wince.
Not for her sake, she sensed, or for the Earl’s. So he must be on Magnus’s side. She could feel fury arcing across the few bare inches of late summer air between them. The shame of her own betrayal was bad enough—the wrong she’d done Magnus with this stranger. So what about him? He was furious with her, but fairness whispered he hadn’t deserved to kiss another man’s affianced bride as if she was free as air, then find out how wrong he was before their lips were cool from kissing. Even more guilt twisted in her belly and finally saw off the wanton Isabella who still longed for more from a lover and never mind who he was and who he wasn’t.
‘No, damn you, I need all that gelt to keep the duns at bay,’ the Earl was saying now. ‘You find the wench so we can announce the engagement before all the local clodhoppers go home.’
‘I’ll see if Isabella is mending a flounce or visiting the ladies’ withdrawing room, because she’s clearly not out here. You shouldn’t judge her by your low standards. Not everyone has your genius for sin.’
‘Speaking of sinners, where’s your mother?’
‘Maybe she’s with her prospective daughter-in-law, avoiding you.’
The string of obscenities that greeted that provocation faded as father and son turned to go back inside. Isabella wasted a few moments wondering how quickly the Earl could put on the mask of genial host after his unpleasant tirade. No doubt it would be plausible as ever by the time he was back in the crowded ballroom that she now dreaded so deeply she would almost prefer to stay out here with a furious male of a very different kind than re-enter it and face the future.
‘I presume you know your fiancé’s mother, Miss Alstone?’ he asked coldly.
She shivered despite the sticky heat that hit her again now the magic of the moonlit night had flown. ‘How do you know my...?’ she began, then her voice trailed off when he turned to face her.
‘Who else but you would skulk on the terrace at Haile Carr, trying to avoid her fiancé in the arms of a stranger? Who else did I come here to see and maybe even steel myself to meet?’
‘I don’t know, but why are you here?’
He grasped her arms as if she was the last person he really wanted to touch and walked her towards the pool of golden light on the still-warm stones. Her gaze ran over his hawkish features and heat and excitement flashed through her once again, but there was such fury in his uncannily light blue eyes it suffocated.
‘Can you see it now?’ he demanded roughly, shaking her a little when she stayed silent. ‘The mark of Cain you have put on me tonight,’ he bit out and the rage and guilt beneath his bitter words felt formidable.
For another cowardly moment she let her gaze linger on features that seemed uniquely his. Eyes clear and pale and steely blue, yet so alive and passionate even the fury in them seemed better than the cold aloofness he was striving for. Eyebrows and wild curls so dark above his icy gaze that looked so hard now. His features were so strongly marked and masculine she couldn’t sort them from a softer, more blurred version that nagged at her memory.
‘The Countess, you’re Lady Carrowe’s...’ Yet again she let her voice tail off as if she was an incoherent and bedazzled debutante. Even the thought of being so silly and unguarded made her stiffen her spine and meet his eyes as if it didn’t cost such an effort. She felt sweat bead her brow. ‘Youngest son,’ she ended, because she knew who he was and still refused to name-call over one thing that certainly wasn’t his fault.
‘Say it, Miss Alstone,’ he ordered with weary impatience. ‘I’m my mother’s publicly denounced shame since the day I had the bad taste to be born alive. I’m the cuckoo in the Earl of Carrowe’s nest; Lady Carrowe’s disgrace; destroyer of innocent ladies’ reputations and all the names they call me if I’m stupid enough to enter a room full of your kind. And what about you, Miss Alstone? You’re Magnus Haile’s affianced wife and far more of a disgrace than my mother ever was in private. She married a monster and you’re about to wed his very opposite; you have no excuse for luring in a lover before you even marry my big brother.’
‘That’s between us and none of your business,’ she said coolly.
‘Tell him about this and I’ll tell the whole world what you did tonight. Dare whisper a word to hurt him and I’ll make sure the world finds out what we’ve done.’
‘You can’t ruin me,’ she defied him and knew it was cheap to invite him to throw mud at the Earl of Carnwood’s youngest sister-in-law if he dared.
‘Wulf FitzDevelin may not get past generations of rank and privilege and be-damned-to-the-rest-of-you, but Dev can do it with a few flicks of his pen and a lampoon from a scurrilous friend who owes him a favour.’
‘You’re him; a famous writer? That Dev?’ she said, incredulous he was the scourge of liars and hypocrites and fools she’d found so irresistibly funny when he wasn’t directing his fury at her.
His more usual style of showing the folly and misfortune of his fellow man took his writing beyond satire. She admired his compassion and delight in ordinary and extraordinary people of great cities and small places alike. In his mind she probably qualified as liar, hypocrite and fool. That idea added a layer of sadness to her guilt she didn’t want to think about right now.
‘Luckily for me there’s no law to stop a bastard being a writer or vice versa. And I thought I was so cynical nothing could shock me, but you proved me wrong tonight, Miss Alstone; I hope you’re proud.’
‘Not really,’ she made herself say as if she was thinking about something more important than a trifling sin she could take to church with her on Sunday and come away with a feeling of absolution.
‘Mention this aberration to my brother and I’ll not only deny every word and ruin you, I’ll take your family and friends down with you.’
‘Don’t threaten me,’ she flared back at him, even as fear for those she loved and wanted to protect flared fiercely in her heart and hurt more bitterly because he was the one trying to put it there. ‘Nobody will rule me or mine with fear or beatings or nasty little lies ever again,’ an Isabella even she hadn’t known was so furious about her childhood spat like a cornered tigress. ‘Stay away from me and mine and your brother as well,’ she went on in a forceful whisper for fear of being overheard. ‘I’ll do what I can for your half-sisters, Mr Wulf, as long as you’re not glowering at me from the sidelines as if I’m the She-Wolf of France and Lucrezia Borgia rolled up together.’
‘Your namesake the Queen Isabella, so-called She-Wolf of France?’ he taunted her.
‘A poor choice of words doesn’t change facts.’
‘I doubt you worry very much about them at the best of times, miss. Luckily for you I haven’t the stomach to stay here and watch you promise to wed my brother as if you’re worthy of even a single hair on his head.’
‘You love him, don’t you? All those stories about you being heartless and impervious to love and affection are more of Lord Carrowe’s lies,’ she said, so shaken by the fact the notorious Wulf FitzDevelin had turned out to be nothing like the man he’d been painted she forgot she was the one doing battle with him right now.
‘I feel very cold and resistant to you, and if you don’t hurry back inside, your undeserved reputation as a cool and lovely lady of fortune will be blasted for good. I’d be the first to dance on her grave, but Magnus wouldn’t like it.’
‘I certainly won’t risk notoriety for the sake of someone who thinks he can threaten all I hold dear because I was stupid.’
‘Stupid? A little more than that, Miss Alstone,’ he said with such revulsion in his voice she decided to let him have the last word, since he liked them so much.
She gave him one last challenging look to dare him to do his worst, then turned her back. He was a mirage—a wonder that turned out nothing of the kind. Magnus and his sisters and her own loving family were real; they mattered. She used her memory of the ballroom’s layout and decorations to sneak back inside unnoticed. She would get her breath back and confess to nodding off in a quiet corner from exhaustion and nerves. Yes, she could put Isabella Alstone back together and even look glowingly happy when her engagement to a good man was announced. Just a few more moments away from the stares and speculation of the cream of local society and she’d be able to playact with the best of them.
Chapter Two
Six months later Isabella wished she couldn’t remember that night of rebellion as if it was only moments ago. She watched her very pregnant middle sister walk towards her like a ship in full sail and did her best to swap prickly memories for here and now.
‘Are you hiding up here because you think it’s the last place anyone will look, Izzie?’
‘If I was, it clearly hasn’t worked and, no, I’m not hiding,’ she lied concisely when Kate reached her. The need to find peace felt urgent after all these weeks and months of turmoil, so here she was on the top floor of the newest part of Viscount Shuttleworth’s grand and sprawling mansion, watching the spring landscape below and trying not to think.
‘That’s your story,’ Kate said sceptically. ‘I never believed them when you were the baby of the family and a sweet smile and tall tale got what you wanted nine times out of ten, and I don’t believe you now.’
‘Well, I’m not a baby anymore, so stop thwarting me for the good of my soul and trust me to know my own mind.’
‘You’re my little sister, Izzie, and trying to pretend all’s well with your world when it obviously isn’t won’t work. I can tell how sad and confused you are about whatever has happened between you and Magnus these last few months while I’ve been stuck in the country like a cow out at pasture. Don’t shut me out, love; I’m on your side whether you want me there or not.’
‘You wouldn’t leave me alone even if I wanted you to, so it’s as well I don’t,’ Isabella joked, then sobered when she saw genuine hurt in her sister’s eyes. ‘I know how lucky I am to have a lionhearted older sister like you, Kate. When we were little and Miranda eloped, then Jack died, you protected me like a lioness. You must have been so sad and lost yourself, but you somehow forced our aunt and cousin to stop beating and bullying me until I was as silent and cowed as Magnus’s poor little sister Theodora. I’m sorry it cost you so much to keep me safe, but you have a family of your own to spoil and protect now, my Lady Shuttleworth, and I can take care of myself. I’m sad about the end of my betrothal to Magnus, but I expect I’ll get over it soon enough.’
‘I don’t think you will,’ Kate argued as if wistfulness and guilt were written all over Isabella’s face and she really hoped they weren’t. ‘And you were quite right to put an end to it if you didn’t love him.’
‘Although you’re the worst-tempered and most infuriating sister I have, Katie darling, you’re loyal to a fault,’ Isabella tried to joke; because she had a sore heart and conscience she didn’t want Kate to know about. And she did love Magnus, just not in the way a wife should love her husband.
‘You only have two sisters.’
‘Exactly.’
‘Hmmm, I know when I’m being led away from a subject, so trying to make me angry won’t work. I’m not as gentle as Miranda is most of the time, but I can control my temper when you’re not around to goad it. And you should humour me, since I’m in a very interesting condition,’ Kate said with a rueful rub of her swollen belly.
‘You’d hate it if I did.’
‘True, but I might secretly be flattered you wanted to cosset me so badly you held that clever tongue of yours for once in your life.’
‘You don’t need flattering. You and Edmund have a lovely little daughter and a new baby on the way. No doubt all three of you will spoil him or her to the edge of reason the moment they are born and what does anyone else’s opinion matter when you’re the centre of their world?’
‘I love them so much I pinch myself to make sure this is really happening at times, but you’re my little sister, Izzie. I couldn’t not care about you while there’s breath in my body, and, come to think of it, even if I was dead, I doubt I’d be able to stop loving you.’
‘Oh, Kate, I love you so much,’ Isabella said, feeling shaky at the very thought of losing her beloved sister. They were all trying not to dwell on the ordeal of childbirth as Kate got closer and closer to her time, but the thought of ever having to live without her beloved sister cut through Isabella’s fragile attempts to be cheerful like a grim bolt of lightning on a sunny day.
‘Then tell me the truth,’ Kate demanded relentlessly as if she knew she had an unfair advantage and was determined to use it.
Isabella avoided her eyes and tried not to think about the ridiculous mess her life was in. The truth? She didn’t even know what it was herself, so how could she tell anyone else? ‘Magnus and I found we did not suit,’ she said carefully. ‘So I had to break the engagement, since he couldn’t.’
‘And we both know a lady can change her mind if she really must, but a gentleman’s word has to be his bond. It’s quite absurd when you think about it, but you’re too passionate to be Mr Haile’s convenient wife for the next forty years because neither of you had the courage to say no before it was too late.’
‘As I’m now considered a jilt, I doubt I’ll have a chance to marry another man I respect, so we’ll probably never know. I haven’t met anyone else I would want to marry in five years on the marriage mart,’ Isabella said with her fingers crossed under her skirts.
She’d met a man she simply wanted that night at Haile Carr, but Wulf FitzDevelin wouldn’t marry her if she was the last single woman left on earth, so he didn’t count. ‘Half the eligible bachelors avoid me now and the rest find my fortune irresistible,’ she told her sister breezily. ‘I expect they think I’m desperate after whistling Magnus down the wind as if handsome and intelligent gentlemen are ten a penny.’
‘You’re ridiculously lovely and an heiress in your own right, Izzie. If you were desperate, you’d have clung to him like a limpet.’
‘I didn’t say it was logical, but at least as an old maid I’ll be spared such nonsense in future.’
‘You’re three and twenty, love, and won’t be on the shelf long,’ Kate argued with a wry smile. ‘There are a few other gentlemen with good eyesight and a modicum of sense in their handsome heads, so you don’t need to wear the willow.’
Isabella felt tears threaten at her sister’s steadfast love and loyalty, just as they had when she’d seen Kate and her husband, Edmund, stood waiting for her on the gravel carriage sweep this morning, too impatient to wait to greet their guest at the top of the wide stone steps as befitted their station as Lord and Lady Shuttleworth. Kate, Edmund and their daughter had hugged and inspected Isabella for damage, as if they were afraid she’d been broken since they saw her last. Louise Kenton, née Alstone, was the youngest sister of Miranda’s husband, Kit, Seventh Earl of Carnwood. Kit and Louise and their sister Maria were distant cousins of her and Miranda and Kate and he was probably the most reluctant lord in the House when he succeeded to the family titles, but marrying Miranda seemed to have reconciled him to it and Louise simply added Kate and Isabella to her family when her brother married their big sister and she felt like another sibling now. Isabella wasn’t quite sure she wanted Louise’s sharp eyes on her, though she was glad Louise was here for Kate during this time. At least she knew a good deal about childbirth after bearing six children since marrying Hugh.
Isabella didn’t know how Edmund convinced his wife she was too near her time to go to Derbyshire and join Kit and Miranda for the Easter festivities, but she was very glad he had. This way Kate must play hostess to as many of the family as he could assemble and what a good thing her sisters had married men who respected as well as loved them. Kit and Edmund found ingenious ways around their wives’ sore spots and stubborn streaks when an invigorating argument wasn’t advisable and that was the sort of marriage Isabella had tried to convince herself she could build with Magnus.
She felt like a fool about that delusion when she watched Edmund and Kate, and Hugh and Louise, together and realised she’d left something vital out. Magnus was a handsome and civilised gentleman with a clever mind, a dry sense of humour and a good heart, but he wasn’t the love of her life. Although she didn’t want one of those, it was probably better not to marry at all than accept less. She had spent six months at odds with herself and at the end of it found out Magnus was in love with another woman. He had offered for Isabella to silence his obnoxious father about the child he and his beloved Lady Delphine had made together and he loved her so much he’d been ready to sacrifice himself and Isabella for the sake of her precious reputation. So if she wasn’t going to risk marrying for reason again and loving a man with all of her heart was a terrifying step she refused to take into the unknown, she would do better not to marry.
‘I’m not pining for Magnus, Kate. He was the first grown-up gentleman I danced with at my come-out ball and I suppose I fooled myself into thinking we could make a good marriage out of our long friendship and mutual interests, but I was wrong. I miss him as a friend, but I won’t collapse in a tearful heap whenever you say his name.’
‘If you like him that much, maybe you should marry him anyway, since you always said you’d never wed for love,’ Kate suggested half-seriously, as if it had been wedding nerves that made Isabella call off the wedding and the whole thing might still be salvaged. Since Kate took three years to discover she loved Edmund far too much to let him marry anyone else, Isabella forgave her sister for doubting her.
‘No,’ she said firmly enough to nip any well-meant schemes to throw her and Magnus back together in the bud. ‘It would be a disaster.’
Never quite measuring up to a lover your spouse couldn’t have would make a marriage hideous. Lucky for her it was only passion on her side and not love. Still, it was probably unfair to compare every other man she met to broodingly handsome Wulf FitzDevelin and his devilishly seductive kisses one impossible night when she took a few minutes off from being cool and careful Miss Alstone.
‘You don’t think you could come to love him in time, then?’ Kate said with memories of her own slow-burning feelings dreamy in her dark blue eyes.
‘No.’
‘Then I’m glad you found out before it was too late. Edmund is my best friend, but he’s also my abiding passion and it baffles me how you thought you could settle for less. A civilised and passionless marriage could never work for you, love.’
‘You were hell-bent on making one yourself once upon a time,’ Isabella pointed out to divert her sister from this uncomfortable topic of conversation.
‘I’m not sure that’s a proper way for an unmarried lady to express herself, sister dear. And, as Edmund was the man I was determined to make it with, I had perfect taste, even if my judgement was a little clouded,’ Kate replied smugly. Isabella was certain Kate and Edmund still enjoyed the odd passionate, invigorating argument about it even now.
‘Take a lesson from me, Izzie,’ Kate persisted because she knew Izzie far better than she wanted her to, ‘marriage lasts too long for any Alstone to risk it without being in love with our spouse.’
‘Don’t upset yourself because it didn’t happen. I miss Magnus and his mother and sisters, but I’m glad we agreed to part before it was too late.’
Are you going to tell your sister what blinded you to the truth for so long, Isabella? the sneaky inner voice she wanted to ignore whispered.
I was confused, she told it firmly and it was a wonder she didn’t have a permanent headache with all these contrary feelings clashing about inside.
‘Gentlemen can be the most dreadful cowards about losing their freedom,’ Kate said sagely as if she was an expert on the breed now she had a subtle and determined lord to try to order about for his own good.
‘I don’t think Magnus was waiting to say “I do” through gritted teeth because of prenuptial nerves, love,’ Isabella tried to joke, then went back to staring out of the wide sash windows because it wasn’t funny. ‘Oh, look who’s outside again, Kate. Louise did say Sophia was to stay in the schoolroom today, didn’t she? The wretched girl obviously wasn’t listening since she looks as if she’s off to explore the lavender maze you designed by the wilderness and never mind her governess.’
‘It’s a lovely day and I don’t blame Sophia for wanting to be outside instead of stuck in the schoolroom staring out of the windows at a blue sky and dreaming. I’m not going to lumber up to the schoolroom to betray her. You could find Louise and tell her what her youngest daughter is up to if you really want to, but she’s probably doing her best not to know.’
‘We were never allowed to use the weather as an excuse to avoid our books,’ Isabella said half-heartedly.
‘Charlotte never took her eyes off us long enough for us to escape, but I’m not sure even she could keep Sophia in on a day like this if she was still a governess instead of Ben Shaw’s wife and mother of their vast tribe of children,’ Kate said, peering over Isabella’s shoulder at the half-grown girl.
‘The Kentons would be a challenge even for her,’ Isabella said absently. Sophia had reached the broad walk now and her scarlet cloak flew out behind her as she ran. She made a splash of vital colour against the sunlit grass and a richly periwinkle-blue sky and was nearly at her destination now. Isabella wished she was out there with her, running away from adult cares and all the gossip her cancelled wedding had brought down on her and her family. ‘With parents like Louise and Hugh none of them are ever going to be pattern cards of proper behaviour.’
‘They’d have to be changelings,’ her sister agreed.
‘Sophia and her littlest brother certainly aren’t and, speaking of young Kit, I wonder where he is. Perhaps Sophia locked him in a cupboard, because I can’t see him minding his primers if he can get into mischief with his big sister instead.’
‘Louise could be keeping a closer eye on him as she knows what a restless little devil he is, or he could still be on his way and that’s why Sophia’s running to get away before he spoils her adventure.’
‘You’re probably right,’ Isabella said and wondered if it was too late to chase after Sophia or let little Kit lure her into mischief. ‘It’s a good thing their brothers are at school or I might have to go and restore order and it looks cold out there.’
‘Much you’d care. Miranda is always scolding you for ruining your complexion in the sun or the wind and you don’t take much notice when you’re not in town and the tabbies can’t make snide remarks about her negligence.’
‘Miranda will listen to their spiteful gossip and feel guilty.’
‘She’s never quite learnt to ignore the nay-sayers, has she? As well Kit doesn’t care or we might still be wearing hair shirts because she ran off with Nevin when he was secretly wed to our vile cousin Celia. Oh, look, Izzie. Who on earth is hurrying after Sophia? I’d certainly remember if I’d met him, happily married or not,’ Kate exclaimed and pointed at the lithe and vigorous figure striding after Sophia Kenton with a wildly gesticulating master Christopher Kenton on his shoulders.
No, it can’t be him, Isabella. Wulf FitzDevelin is on the other side of the Atlantic and he wouldn’t follow you to Herefordshire on a private family visit if he wasn’t. He wouldn’t cross the street to pick you up if you’d been knocked down by a dust cart, she told herself firmly, because her heartbeat was loud in her ears as she watched the powerful male figure hurry after Sophia and wondered if she’d really fainted and this was a nightmare.
His drab greatcoat swirled out behind him in his hurry and even from up here his crow-black locks looked wild, but there was such leashed power and energy in his loping walk, encumbered or not, that she couldn’t escape the reality of him. He was here, now. She remembered the defiant set to his head and shoulders too well and couldn’t fool herself her eyes were deceiving her.