Chapter Seven #3
‘And mine, but I seem to remember us promising each other that we’d never turn into him.’
He tensed as the memory leapt into his brain.
It had been after one of his father’s beatings, when he’d been too slow to answer a question.
Afterwards Cassie had come up to his room and wrapped her arms around him, telling him that it wasn’t his fault, that their father was wrong, and they should make a pact, just the two of them, but it had been easier for her.
She’d always been so much more like their mother.
And then she’d left soon after, going to London for the Season, and never coming back…
‘That was a long time ago.’ He potted the last ball on the table, pushing the memory out of his mind.
‘Not so long.’ Cassie’s voice softened. ‘Just give the poor woman a chance, that’s all I’m asking.’
‘Why?’ The last thread of his temper snapped. ‘Why should I be the one to forgive and forget? I’m not the villain. She is!’
‘Ahem.’ George cleared his throat.
Damn it. He closed his eyes briefly before turning around to find that his wife was standing in the doorway. If her flushed cheeks and clenched fists were any indication, she’d arrived just in time to hear him launch into yet another attack on her character.
And now he had no idea what to say, though fortunately his sister did.
‘Florence.’ Cassie swung into action, smiling as brightly as if they’d just been discussing some pleasure outing. ‘How lovely you look this evening. Doesn’t she, Leo?’
He made a harrumphing sound that might, just about, be construed as agreement as he put his cue down.
In fact, his wife did look remarkably pretty, despite the scowl she was currently aiming in his direction.
He hadn’t seen her for a couple of hours, since, in a rare display of tact, his sister had allotted them separate, albeit adjacent, bedrooms, and it hadn’t occurred to him to see how she was settling in, but now she looked completely refreshed from the journey, dressed in a pale green, round-necked gown, with the same gold locket he’d noticed around her neck a week ago.
‘Come and meet George.’ Cassie gave her husband’s arm a none-too-gentle tug. ‘You met him before at the wedding, but…well, here he is again.’
‘Lord Brooke.’ Florence curtseyed.
‘An honour, Lady Rainton.’ George dutifully bowed over her hand. ‘I’m delighted to make your acquaintance.’
‘Excellent.’ Cassie beamed between them. ‘Now, I don’t know about anybody else, but I’m famished. Shall we go into dinner? George, take my arm.’
Leo aimed a glare in his sister’s direction. Now there was no way he could avoid offering the same attention to his wife, no matter how tempted he was to march out of the house and dine at his club instead.
‘Shall we?’ Reluctantly he extended an arm, though apparently the gesture was more shocking than he’d realised.
Florence’s facial muscles went completely rigid, as though he’d just drawn some kind of weapon on her.
Now that he thought about it, however, aside from their wedding day, when he’d slid a ring over her finger, and that time she’d collapsed against him in her bedroom, he’d managed to successfully avoid all forms of physical contact with her.
He hadn’t even helped her into or out of the carriage on their journey.
Well, this was awkward.
‘I said, shall we?’ He lifted his arm higher. Not very gallant, but he wasn’t going to beg.
‘Very well.’ She thrust her chin into the air as she slipped a hand tentatively around his elbow, sending an inconvenient tingle of sensation shooting straight up his arm, just as the scent of her perfume collided with his nostrils again. The combination made him feel a little unsteady on his feet.
‘So what are your plans now that you’re in town?
’ Cassie asked as they took their seats at the dinner table.
‘Leo’s letter was typically vague. The Season is winding down, of course, but there are still a few events left to attend.
The Jenners have already sent you an invitation to their ball on Friday evening. ’
‘The Jenners?’ Leo frowned, trying to ignore the way his arm was still tingling. ‘How do they know we’re back in town?’
‘Because I told them.’
‘Cassie.’ He exchanged a swift look with George. ‘I specifically asked you not to tell anyone.’
‘Did you?’ Cassie placed a hand on her chest with a look of surprise. ‘Well, if you did, you must have written it in very small letters. Although I do have an appalling memory on occasion.’
‘Appalling or selective?’
‘I’ve no idea what you mean. In any case, Lady Jenner was absolutely thrilled to hear you were back in town.
It was very cruel of you, leaving without giving anyone so much as a glimpse of the pair of you together, and it would be such a coup for her if you were to attend.
Your wedding was so private. Everyone’s desperate to see the new Marquess and Marchioness of Rainton together. ’
‘I’m sure they are.’ George snorted. ‘You two were the biggest topic of conversation for at least a fortnight. No one’s known what to talk about since.’
‘Pshaw. The surest way to stop any more talk is to show yourselves. If you’re seen behaving normally then all the gossip will be put to bed once and for all.
Then the next time you come to London it will be old news.
’ Cassie batted her eyelashes. ‘Surely one ball isn’t so much to ask?
Especially when George and I will be there for moral support. ’
‘We’ll think about it.’ Leo rolled his eyes. ‘But we have other matters to attend to.’
‘What matters?’
‘I came to visit a friend.’ Florence spoke up this time. ‘Miss Amabel Wadlow. She’s staying in Grosvenor Square.’
‘Amabel Wadlow…’ Cassie repeated thoughtfully. ‘Why do I know that name? I’m certain I’ve come across it recently. Oh, yes, I remember now. It was in the Society pages. She got married a few days ago, didn’t she?’
‘She…what?’ Florence’s jaw dropped so far, it looked in danger of hitting the table. ‘Who did she marry?’
‘Oh, goodness, who was it? Somebody with a name beginning with V, I think.’ Cassie tapped a finger against her chin.
‘Or was it a W? No, definitely a V. Vaughan, that was it. Major James Vaughan. His father was the second son of the old Earl of Bewholme and he’s a second son himself.
The family has an estate in Norfolk and his older brother is engaged to Miss Serena Wilcox.
Major Vaughan himself fought at Vitoria, although he’s sold his commission now.
’ She spread her hands out. ‘That’s all I can remember. ’
‘Is that all?’ George chuckled. ‘Honestly, darling, you need to try harder.’
‘Major Vaughan?’ Florence’s brow creased. ‘I remember him. He called on Amabel a few times. She thought he was…’ She bit her lip mid-sentence, her expression conflicted.
‘There’s no need to stop on my account.’ Leo raised an eyebrow as she glanced towards him. ‘Tell us. What did Miss Wadlow think he was?’
She hesitated for another moment before looking down at the terrine set in front of her. ‘She said that he was charming, that’s all.’
‘Oh, gracious, I completely forgot. She was the one you were going to…’ For once, Cassie looked embarrassed. ‘Well, never mind. That’s all water under the bridge now.’
‘Quite.’ Leo kept his gaze fixed on Florence, watching as she lifted her fork to her lips.
He was mildly surprised at how little he cared about the news of Miss Wadlow’s marriage.
Considering how close he’d come to proposing to the woman, he would have thought he might feel some jealousy, but he couldn’t pretend to feel anything.
In all honesty, he was having a hard time remembering what exactly she looked like.
And he was still staring at his wife’s mouth, he realised…
‘In any case, I’m afraid you’re too late,’ Cassie continued. ‘The announcement said they were travelling to Ireland straight after the wedding. His family has land there, on his mother’s side.’
‘Amabel’s left London?’ Florence’s voice sounded strangled.
‘I believe so.’
‘But… I have questions.’ Her eyes locked back onto Leo’s, the expression in them the same as when she’d first woken up. Panicked. Lost. Stricken.
‘Oh, dear.’ Cassie looked between them. ‘Have I said the wrong thing?’
‘It’s not your fault. I just thought…hoped…’ Florence’s voice trailed away.
‘We were hoping that Miss—that is, Mrs Vaughan might be able to cast some more light on what happened on the night of her parents’ ball,’ Leo finished when she seemed unable to continue. ‘There was some confusion regarding a message.’
‘Oh, I see. Well, isn’t there anyone else you could ask?’
‘I don’t know. Maybe…but I really wanted…’ Florence gulped, sounding on the verge of tears. ‘Forgive me, but I’m feeling a little unwell. Would you mind if I go to bed?’
‘Of course not, my dear.’ Cassie tilted her head sympathetically. ‘You do look very pale. Would you like me to send a plate up?’
‘No. Thank you, but I think I just need to sleep.’
‘Very well, then. We’ll see you in the morning.’
Leo got to his feet as Florence pushed her chair back and fled the room. Briefly, he thought about following her before immediately dismissing the idea. What could he, of all people, say?
‘Not a word.’ He looked pointedly at his sister as he sat down again. ‘Not one word.’