The Earl and the Wedding Crasher (The Brides of Elderglen #3)

Chapter 20

CHAPTER TWENTY

" M y dear, have you seen her yet? Positively charming of course with all that money she has now."

"Then you think that it was for the money? I have heard of course that she needed to escape several scandals and a wedding was the best way to cover a multitude of sins."

"Oh I do not believe it for a moment! She is the most beautiful creature I have ever seen, and so dainty and graceful on his arm. If anything happened he is perfectly happy with the wife he has gotten out of it."

"Well and who can be surprised? A man like that? I heard from my sister's step niece you know that he paid her enough attention to fair turn her head right off her shoulders. She spent two summers wasting away thinking only of him. It's exactly that kind of gentleman who would marry a young tart like this."

"No no, I quite believe the romantic story that they told people. It is too much for words to ask me not to think that a lady could find such a gentleman in a storm and wounded and nurse him to health only to have to stop his wedding so that he would remember her. I felt all aquiver when I heard of it."

"I felt that I had heard the story before in one of my lady's favorite novels!"

"You cannot be suggesting -"

"Oh but I am, and I believe that she will be shown in her true colors, mark my words!"

Cedric Pembroke was not a man who paid much attention to gossip. He had been at the center of stories that the tongues of society across the breadth of England had carried and embellished since he had been barely out of his teens. For every lady he had courted or danced with there were a dozen fictional ladies that some aunt or grandmother or godmother or sainted uncle had created in retelling the story. There was no use in listening to folk who had nothing better to do with their lives but talk about their betters.

However, tonight at the Westcott's summer ball he could feel all the stares on them as they entered and a rush of whispers springing up as they moved past like a river of sound. Perhaps it was the sight of his wife in her newest gown, a thing of pure white satin shot through with gold and silver flowers that trailed over the gauze overskirt, interspersed with sparkling gemstones. It was expensive and it looked it, sparkling more than the jewels that many ladies at the ball were wearing around their necks or on their heads. She wore a simple chain with a single large pearl at her throat and pearls at her ears as well as a headdress that was crafted to look like a comb made from a strange deep sea shell crusted over with pearls as well.

It made her look ethereal and pure, like a strange sea creature too alien and innocent to be touched by humanity. The white set off her hair and eyes, leaving her startling and extraordinary.

Perhaps it was not so surprising that people were staring and whispering. She could as easily have been some visiting royalty and have made less of a stir. He placed a hand at her waist as they headed to the Westcott and the main party, careful to make sure that no one could get too close to his treasure of a wife. Now all the men would curse themselves for not noticing the jewel that had been hiding on the sidelines of the balls they had attended but they were too late by far. He had won. He had married her.

The Westcott's seemed distracted enough that the greetings that they were given were vague but pleasant. Louisa had said very little since they had mounted the carriage for the ball, but Cedric could see that she must be in want of a drink and steered them towards the refreshments.

"My dear Lady St Vincent!" Lady Stapleton who had spent some time in his wife's company at their last event crossed the room towards them, taking Louisa's hands and smiling at her warmly. "How I did hope that you would be here today, and my hopes have been answered. Are you well?"

"Quite well, thank you my lady," Louisa said softly, a small pleased smile on her face. "Have you been introduced to my husband, Lord St Vincent? My lord, this is Lady Stapleton."

"A pleasure," Cedric said, bowing over the hand he was presented and wondering if he was correct in feeling that this woman did not completely approve of him.

"The pleasure is mine," she said somewhat coolly before turning back to his wife and smiling again. "Once you have secured some punch you must come and meet my husband, my dear, he is dying to meet you. I have told him about our delightful time at the last event."

"That is very kind of you, I shall be sure to come find you soon," Louisa said, nodding again.

Cedric frowned a little as the Countess withdrew. It was strange indeed to find that this lady who had apparently befriended his wife had no interest in meeting or getting to know her husband. Perhaps -

"My lord," Louisa said coolly. "Please remove your hand from my waist. I am quite capable of finding my way the next ten steps to the punch bowl without your careful guidance."

He was still holding onto her, holding her close as though he was afraid that if he let her go he might lose her forever.

Cedric did not want to let her go. He liked the feeling of holding her near him, of knowing where she was and that he would be able to protect her.

"Is it not the duty of a husband to accompany his wife?"

"I am sure you know well that is not a duty any married couple in the country feels compelled to abide by," she said crisply. "If you would leave me be, sir, I would prefer that we avoid unnecessary contact. You wouldn't want there to be any further misunderstandings, after all."

Cedric let his hand drop, feeling the coldness settle in his chest at this reminder of how badly things had become between them. She was standing close to him, little curls at the nape of her neck that he itched to bush away, her eyes dark with feeling and her cheeks flushed a little in a way that made him want to press his lips to them and soothe her.

But no matter how close they were it was like there was a gulf between them. He couldn't cross it. He couldn't draw her back. And he had formed the chasm himself.

It would have been a lot easier to manage being at the epicenter of gossip and rumor, having women and men stare at her as though she were a geek at a fairground, even the whispers or the sudden silence when she approached if Cedric would be anything like normal.

Louisa would have taken anything . Either his initial icy coldness like a distant god or his more recent flirtatious charm and teasing in public if it would only get them through this evening.

Do I not have enough to worry about? she thought, enraged as he drew his hand back looking as though she had kicked a puppy instead of insisting on mere propriety in public. Do I not have enough to deal with, trying not to let the rumors spread, trying not to let anyone think that there is ill in my marriage or that I am some kind of strumpet who flung myself on the most renowned rake of London without this on top of it?

At least Susan Stapleton was still her friend. They had bonded over the best way to rescue lupins in a garden from being overlooked by gardeners and the other Countess had shared a little about how it was only her second year in the position and she still struggled with feelings of loneliness.

The woman coming to speak to her had been nothing short of a declaration of war against whoever it was who was spreading the lies about her and Louisa had wanted to cry at how full her heart felt.

"You look beautiful," Cedric said suddenly, his gaze unreadable. There was so much about him now that she couldn't understand. His expressions were softer but more mercurial, more changing as though he were feeling so many things in an instant that he could not express them all. It was impossible to guess what he meant that she had given up even trying.

"Stop that," Louisa said, crossing to the punch and collecting a glass. It was too sweet, too full of cranberries floating to the top like nasty little red bugs but she was thirsty so she sipped it to cool herself. "Don't say such things to me."

"Why not?"

Why not?? Why not! Was the man mad? Was he trying to drive her mad? Was this how he was going to extricate himself from a marriage he had never wanted - drive her into insanity and claim a divorce? Louisa reminded herself that she was not to swear, she was not to stare, she was not to raise her voice. She was a paragon of virtue tonight, there could be nothing that anyone could scold her about.

"It is not proper for you to speak so to me, my lord," she said instead, as primly as she could. She started to walk back towards the dance floor where no doubt she would have to dance with a half dozen men who would be thinking the worst things about her and wondering what she would let them do to her and everyone would be thinking it and oh she might sob she might scream -

"I will have you remember that you are my wife, Louisa. I will call you beautiful if I wish to."

Louisa turned to him, sharply. She could feel that flush on her cheeks and knew that her eyes were flashing fire. Everything that she wanted to say to him rose within her throat, everything that she had wanted to say ever since that horrible meeting that morning in his office until now.

Oh I'm your wife now, am I? I thought that our marriage was merely on paper?

Since when do you tell people you have a business arrangement with that they are beautiful, Cedric? Perhaps this is why everyone thinks that you are a rake, hmm?

Would you make up your mind what you want from me? It is you, you who has made this so hard! I was happy just being your partner and your friend. I was happy with what we had and you, you sir, were the one to kiss me and ruin it! You did that and then you acted as though I was the one getting ideas above my station!

Oh I hate you Cedric Pembroke, I hate you and I hate that I love you!

"Please," she said instead out loud. "Do not call me that."

"You are , I shall not call you anything else."

Of course not. Louisa stared at him for a moment, understanding with grim certainty what her life would be like now. The pretense of marriage whenever that was what he wanted, the withdrawal of affections the second he was done with her, the absolute dismissal of her own desires whenever she should tell him what she wanted.

He would never back down and having a public fight would only fuel those who were speaking behind her back.

"You are insufferable," she said, smiling at him with only her lips. "Excuse me, sir." She turned and she walked quickly away, tears blurring her vision the moment she had her back to him. She would never again be able to feel safe by his side, like he would take care of her and protect her. It was just her, her against the cold world alone, with a sham marriage to a cold man who would never ever love her.