Chapter 24
Twelfth Night
London
“This was a bad idea.”
“Oh, don’t be silly! I feel perfectly fine.”
“Yes, but you should still be resting, not in London about to attend a ball.”
“There is nowhere I would rather be, but on your arm.”
Scarlett smiled at him so broadly that Hunter sighed, knowing she had won this argument, as she did most. When Scarlett turned that grin on him, he was lost, lost in her eyes and her loveliness.
Not that he wouldn’t tell her when she was wrong — for she certainly was, now and again. But today was a day for celebration.
“I shouldn’t have let you come,” he mumbled now as they arrived at Lord and Lady Totnes’ home, where the Twelfth Night celebrations were taking place. “My meeting with Lord Falconer could have been over and done, and I could have been back at Wintervale with you. Instead?—”
“Instead, we are taking part in these beautiful Twelfth Night festivities,” she finished. “Which I wanted to attend — with you.”
He still wasn’t completely convinced he should have allowed her to come, but she had been so persuasive that despite the doctor’s orders, she had been out of bed and in his carriage seated next to him but a few days after her accident.
She promised him she was feeling much better, and it was true that he could no longer see the pain in her eyes as he had even the day before.
Luckily, London was but a few hours from Wintervale, and so the carriage ride hadn’t been long, and at the very least they were in plush conditions, with a warm stone on Scarlett’s feet, a blanket over her legs, and Hunter’s heated body at her back.
“I hope you didn’t feel like you had to do this,” he said, tilting his head down toward her now, “To prove to me that you could live in London.”
“No,” she shook her head. “I have to do this to prove to myself that this is not the London I remember, not the London of my parents. A new place, where we will make new memories.”
“That we will,” he nodded, winking wickedly at her. “I can assure you.”
She swatted him good-naturedly but leaned back into him, and he tightened his arms around her as the carriage pulled to a stop.
“How do you find it so far, my Clara Courtlove?” She laughed and pushed away from him.
“Much better than anticipated,” she responded, wiggling her eyebrows at him, her gaze trailing up and down his own dandy-ish costume. “Especially when one is accompanied by a man such as Samuel Strutt.”
They were in their costumes for the evening.
Having not been in attendance at the previous night’s festivities, their roles had been chosen for them, the cards sent to their London townhome.
Hunter eyed Scarlett’s particularly low bodice.
He didn’t much care for others to be looking upon it, but he reassured himself with the thought that only he would see what was underneath.
Hunter held out a hand to help Scarlett out of the carriage, and he didn’t miss the deep breath she took before grasping it and walking down the steps and up the cobbled path and into the house.
Facing the ton could be harrowing, to be sure — especially considering the fact that their marriage had been under a great deal of scrutiny during their three-month separation — but if anyone held the courage necessary to confront the rest of them, it was Scarlett, he thought, his already puffed chest sticking out even further than the design of his garish costume.
They had hardly taken a step in the door when their hosts nearly accosted them, and Hunter wanted to step in front of Scarlett and protect her, but it appeared she didn’t need him as she gracefully greeted them.
In fact, she soon charmed the crowd, though he didn’t leave her side — most especially as she could hardly walk on her own, her ankle still as sore as it was.
Mercifully, the physician’s diagnosis of a sprain had proven correct, but it would be difficult for Scarlett to spend the night standing upon it.
She was insistent, however, that she attend, and so he would do what he could to help her.
“Oxford! Don’t tell me I finally have the chance to meet your beautiful wife?”
“Wimbledon!” Hunter’s face stretched into a wide, genuine grin as a tall, handsome man strode over to the pair of them, reaching out an arm to greet her husband.
“I can see why he kept you hidden away,” said Lord Wimbledon with a wink. “He was afraid someone like me might attempt to steal you.”
“Try as you might, Wimbledon,” Hunter said good-naturedly, though he sent his friend a look of warning. “But you have no chance, I’m afraid.”
Wimbledon winked at Scarlett, promised to sit next to her at dinner, and was on his way to flirt with the next women he found.
“Are you enjoying yourself, darling?” Hunter asked her as someone handed her a glass of champagne.
“I am, actually,” she said, her eyes widening in surprise as she turned to look at him. “Certainly, there are those who choose to talk to us to determine the current status of our relationship, but there are some genuine souls here who seem to truly want to know me.”
“How could they not?” he asked with a smile. “You are the most beautiful woman in the room.”
“I doubt that,” she said with a laugh.
“It’s true,” he said. “I know it is, even though I have hardly been able to look at another woman with you on my arm.”
Her smile sent warmth shooting through his veins, right to his heart, and he vowed to spend the rest of his life ensuring that it remained on her face.
It seemed his promise would soon be put to the test, as he saw Scarlett’s face fall into a frown, and he followed her gaze to the entrance of the room. Madeline. What were she and Jeremy doing here? He had thought they were to remain in the country until the spring.
The couple said not a word, but simply nodded to them as they walked by. Please let this go well , Hunter thought, as he stole another look at Scarlett. Have them leave us alone .
It was not to be, however, as after dinner Madeline walked directly their way.
“Lady Oxford, may I have a word?”
Why Madeline Lancaster wanted to speak with her, Scarlett had no idea, but she nodded, looking at Hunter to assure him all would be well. He helped her over to the settee in the corner of the drawing room, which was somewhat secluded from the remainder of the guests.
“I apologize for accosting you,” Lady Raymond said once they were alone, though Hunter stood against a pillar a ways away watching them. “It is simply … I was a beast, Lady Oxford,” she said, hanging her head and completely taking Scarlett off guard.
“What?” Scarlett asked, wondering if she had heard her correctly.
“I said things to you that were not at all appropriate, no matter the state of your relationship. My own marriage … well, it’s not a particularly close one.
And it’s true I had always had something of a tendre for Hunter, and I didn’t think the two of you were very …
attached. In fact, rumor was you hated him and forced him away from you and back to London. ”
Scarlett swallowed hard as the guilt rushed through her once more, for the woman was, in fact, correct regarding her previous actions.
“Anyway, it seems … well, it seems I was entirely mistaken. One only has to watch the two of you for but a moment to see how wonderfully well you get on, how much you love one another. I hope for you the very best, and I promise to never come between you, nor say anything to suggest I will again.”
“I—” Scarlett was so taken aback for a moment that she didn’t know what to say.
“Th-thank you Lady Raymond. I admit that I was rather insulted by your words at Christmas, though I suppose I was as upset as much by my own behavior that would lead you to your assumptions as I was angry at you for saying such a thing. As we are neighbors, however, and each close with Lavinia, I would suggest we put it behind us.”
“Oh, I’m so glad,” said Lady Raymond, taking her hands. “And now, sadly, this may be our last words for the night as my character is that of Maud Mute.”
Her expression was so distressed that Scarlett nearly laughed, but she choked it back as Lady Raymond didn’t seem to find the humor in it.
“Very well, Lady Raymond,” she said. “We will be returning to the country very soon, so I am sure we will see you there.”
“Both of you?” she asked, her eyes raised.
“Both of us,” Scarlett confirmed with a smile, which Lady Raymond simply returned knowingly and walked away.
It wasn’t long after the Twelfth Night cake had been served and the revelries began in earnest that Hunter leaned down to murmur in Scarlett’s ear, a thrill coursing through her when she felt his breath tickle her neck.
“Are you feeling well?” he asked, and she looked at him with surprise, nodding. “Of course. I would tell you if I wasn’t.”
“I think…” he cleared his throat, “that perhaps you need a moment away from the crowd, to relax if you will.”
“No, I don’t— oh!” she finally noticed the gleam in his eyes, filled with meaning as he looked suggestively down at her, and her pulse began to pound.
“I suppose I am feeling a tad unwell, my lord, and I believe I must take a moment to compose myself,” she said, slightly louder, grinning up at him wickedly.
He rolled his eyes, apparently not entirely impressed by her acting skills, but he took her arm in his once more and led her out of the room.
Scarlett felt like running through the long corridor, but with her limp, their progress was much slower.
Hunter looked within a few doorways before finally finding one that was to his liking.
“Why this room?” she asked as he led her into the drawing room, where the fire in the hearth warmly greeted them.
“It has a lock,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “And it’s empty.”
“You mean the other rooms…”