Chapter Five
‘Good God, I never thought I’d see the day that my friend would be betrothed.
’ The Marquess of Adler poured two tumblers of whisky and handed Ralston one.
It was late that evening and the two were alone in the library smoking cigars.
The rest of the house party had long since retired, and the engagement announcement had gone as planned.
Ralston cleared his throat. ‘Our betrothal came about out of necessity. You must have heard about last night.’
Adler’s lips twitched. ‘That you were caught in flagrante?’
Yes, they had been caught in a compromising position.
He’d wanted Nora badly before they’d been interrupted.
If he was any judge, she’d also been aroused.
Then there was their brief shared kiss in the library earlier.
She’d been a bundle of nerves before the announcement, and he’d wanted to put her at ease.
For her, the kiss may have served its purpose, but it had only served to further inflame him.
The thought of making love to her had consumed his thoughts more than he’d like to admit.
He wasn’t a rogue, but neither was he a monk and he’d had his share of affairs with widows who’d sought a mutually satisfying sexual relationship.
He never offered more and neither did they expect it.
As for the announcement itself, he’d done his best to offer her comfort.
‘How did it happen?’ Adler asked.
‘She wanted to create a scandal to escape a match to an old baron.’ He kept it to himself that her scheme was to slip into Sir Simon’s bed rather than his. And, if he was truthful, he still felt bitter over this fact. Still, Ralston wanted to protect her reputation.
Adler let out a hoot of laughter. ‘You’re jesting?’
‘In hindsight,’ Ralston said dryly, ‘it was an unforgettable evening.’
Adler stopped laughing and turned serious. ‘From what I can tell, her mother is like an overprotective bear. You survived Mrs Magarian’s wrath?’
‘Yes, the woman found us. I believe she also happens to be thrilled at the match.’ If what Nora said was true and her mother had wanted her to marry the ancient Baron Umbridge, then becoming a countess was a much higher rank.
‘No doubt it will help her standing in Society, even open doors.’ Adler eyed him with a critical squint. ‘But you agreed to marry, even knowing this?’
Ralston sipped the whisky. ‘The scandal would have been horrendous. But convincing the lady was no easy task. She claims she is a biologist. I assured her I would not stand in the way of her scientific efforts and would allow her freedom to pursue her research. Even fund it.’
Adler set his empty glass down and gaped at him. ‘A biologist? Truly? I’m even more intrigued to learn more about her.’
Ralston still found it unusual. Nora may have placed a shell on his desk, but in his mind, she did not fit the mold of a scientist.
She was too passionate. Unpredictable. Dangerous.
He grew aware of Adler staring at him. ‘Like I said,’ Ralston argued, ‘I cannot afford a scandal. My bill is set for the first reading in the House. A stable marriage of convenience can only help my image as a politician.’ He had begun reading newspapers and pamphlets as a young man.
One of the newspaper articles mentioned the harsh conditions of child labor at the cotton mills.
The pamphlets covered it even more, and Ralston grew more interested in the topic.
It wasn’t unusual to see the factory smoke when his family travelled through London.
‘What about you?’ Adler asked. ‘Other than continued respectability for your politics, what do you get out of this union?’
‘What do you mean?’
Adler shrewdly regarded him. ‘Miss Nora is beautiful. It won’t be a hardship to bed her to get your heir.’
‘No, it won’t.’ Ralston’s blood heated just thinking about her.
She was as bold as a skilled courtesan but kissed like a virgin.
An arousing contradiction. But desire was not to be confused with emotion.
He knew better than anyone never to risk his heart.
He had been young, only eighteen, when Margaret had cheated.
In hindsight, she’d done him a favor. If he hadn’t found her with her lover, he would have married her thinking the baby was his own.
He had taken the cheating hard, but learning the baby was not his had been much, much worse.
He’d been young and surprised when she’d told him she was pregnant, but after taking time to think and accept that he was to be a father, he’d wanted the baby and had grieved to know it wasn’t his.
It was for the best he’d learned the truth about Margaret early on.
Even though he knew she’d undoubtedly cheat again, for months afterward, a permanent sorrow had seemed to weigh him down.
The only thing left was the raw soreness of an aching heart, and he’d learned not to trust again.
No, love was a fickle, foolish emotion that only brought heartache.
Marriage did not have to involve matters of the heart.
Adler’s normally amused expression turned serious. ‘And what of love?’
Ralston drained his glass and set it down on a dainty end table. ‘What about it?’
‘Your union with Nora may not have come the traditional way with courting and flowers and chocolates, but what if you fall in love?’
Ralston glowered. ‘I won’t. Love is for poets and fools. I don’t have room in my life for it now or in the foreseeable future.’
Adler sat back in his chair, and his normal mocking expression returned. ‘There are still days remaining of this blasted house party. Seeing the two of you together will be more entertaining than anything the Duchess has planned.’
Ralston scowled. ‘You will be disappointed, my friend. Like I said, it will be a businesslike union that will serve both of our purposes. Nothing more and nothing less.’
‘Did you know the auger shell is the home of a carnivorous snail?’ It was the following afternoon and Nora was in her bedchamber reading from one of her research books, Lovell Reeve’s Conchologia Iconica, as she paced her room. Candace sat at the window seat.
‘I didn’t know,’ her sister said absentmindedly as she scanned the pages of a gossip sheet that had arrived from London that morning. ‘But I’m certain you will educate me on the topic.’
Nora turned the page of the thick book and read, ‘The snail uses its venomous barb to immobilize and stun its prey.’ Reeve’s book was one of Nora’s favorites and she’d often study his sketches of shells.
Candace lowered her sheet to look at Nora wide-eyed. ‘Goodness. That’s quite barbaric.’
‘It’s fascinating. It also says the shell can be found in Cornwall.’ Nora shut the book. ‘The coast is calling. Maybe I’ll find one along with the other shells I’m searching for.’
Candace’s lips parted. ‘You can’t be serious! The Duchess has scheduled a visiting pianist this afternoon.’
‘It’s an opportunity for me to sneak away,’ Nora said.
Candace shook her head. ‘I’m not able to accompany you.’
‘I wasn’t asking,’ Nora said.
Candace blinked. ‘You think to go unaccompanied?’
Nora set the book atop the chest of drawers. ‘As far as I’m concerned, a chaperone is not necessary to visit the seaside.’
Candace’s eyebrows drew together. ‘Mother would not agree.’
Frustration welled in Nora’s chest, and she rubbed it as if doing so would make it go away. ‘My research is the reason I agreed to this dreadful house party. And I won’t be long. As for Mother, she won’t even notice if I slip out. She’s been busy cozying up to Lady Ardmore and Lady Worth.’
‘What about the Earl?’ Candace asked.
‘What of him? Ralston claims to support my scientific studies. It was why I agreed to marry him.’
Candace stood. ‘Yes, but you are not married yet and still have to deal with Mother.’
Nora bit her lower lip. If marriage meant not having to deal with her mother, she was almost looking forward to it.
Candace sighed. ‘If Mother asks for you, I’ll do my best to distract her and tell her you are strolling the gardens.’
Nora kissed her sister’s cheek. ‘I knew I could depend on you.’
‘Just don’t be long searching for that poisonous shell or any others,’ Candace said, a note of warning in her voice.
Together the sisters made their way down the main staircase and headed to the music conservatory.
Chairs were arranged in rows in the room and a pianoforte was in the center.
Others had already arrived. The Duchess sat in the front row, along with Lady Worth, Lady Ardmore and Nora’s mother.
No doubt her mother would be thrilled to be seated with the trio, and hopefully, she would not pay Nora much attention when she slipped out of the concert.
The men sat in the row behind the ladies—the Marquess and Viscount, along with Ralston and Adler. Other guests, including the wealthy Baroness, took places alongside Mr and Mrs Mercer and the widow, Mrs Charlston. Sir Simon selected a seat beside the young widow.
Nora strategically chose a chair in the back row closest to the door. Candace sat beside her. ‘You’re fortunate,’ Candace whispered. ‘Mother is already occupied.’
Nora shifted in her seat just as Ralston turned in his chair to look at her.
One dark eyebrow rose in an inquiring arch.
Her insides warmed, and for a brief moment, she wondered if he could read her thoughts and knew she planned a quick escape, then dismissed her concerns.
Thankfully, the pianist began to play, and Ralston turned away.
She sat still, not daring to move, looking at the back of his dark head.
He was too much of a distraction. The pianist’s music should be soothing—instead she was on edge.
And the longer she sat, the more she felt the restless urge to leave for the seaside.
Fresh air would do her good. She squeezed her sister’s hand, and Candace nodded in understanding.
Nora pushed back her chair, careful not to make a sound on the hardwood floor, then slipped from the room.
Once she reached the marble vestibule, she looked both ways to ensure no servants were about, then retrieved a basket she’d stowed in a cupboard under the stairs and walked out the front door.
It was a lovely afternoon, and puffs of clouds floated in the sky. Sunshine warmed Nora’s cheeks. Birds chirped and the fragrant perfume of the Duchess’s prized rose bushes scented the air. The perfect weather contrasted with the churning emotions in her stomach.
The country sojourn should be a success–-the only wrinkle was her current fiancé, the Earl of Ralston.
Would she ever get over the shock of her engagement?
She had been nervous, but she’d been surprised at Ralston’s presence by her side last night.
Anyone looking at him would never expect he did not wish to marry, or that they’d end up together in the most unusual way.
Even more surprising was her own attraction for her soon-to-be husband.
It started from the kiss in the library, which had left her breathless to his words and steady hand at the betrothal announcement, which she did appreciate.
She took deep breaths as she walked. She’d use this time alone to think things through, to accept her future and focus on what mattered most to her.
Her science, her research of Cornwall shells and any future presentation to the Scientific Society.
She’d read articles written by the Society and begun to dream of presenting to the leading scientists on the committee.
It would be a personal acknowledgement that she was a true biologist and that her study of seashells was worthy.
And one other small issue nagged her thoughts: How to become a countess and share the Earl’s bed.
It was all so overwhelming.
She approached the top of the shell driveway that led to the coast. A brisk fifteen-minute walk later, the sound of ocean waves breaking on ragged rocks beckoned her.
Tall grass danced in a sea breeze on dunes that shielded her view of the ocean.
Tucking her basket under her arm, she stepped onto a path of worn wood boards that led through the dunes and to the beach.
At last, the ocean came into view—a magnificent blue spanning the horizon.
She experienced a thrill of excitement at the sight of the ocean, which she rarely saw.
The sun was a brilliant orange ball high in the sky.
On one side, waves crashed against shiny jagged rocks, the air thick with sea spray.
But the path she’d taken had led to a small isolated beach with briny sand and seashell fragments.
The waves were gentler here and swimmers could enjoy a dip in the ocean. Gulls cried and soared above.
Removing a blanket from her basket, she spread it on the sand.
She untied her bonnet and placed it on the blanket beside her.
Then she slipped off her shoes and removed her stockings.
Wisps of hair blew free from the bun at her nape.
She breathed in the intoxicating scent of ocean air and tipped her face to the sun.
London could be stifling. Too much rain and smoke from the factories clogged the sky. But here, by the sea, she could breathe, her lungs could expand and whatever tension she’d felt in the warm conservatory eased away. The vastness of the ocean reminded her of how small her troubles truly were.
She could stay here all afternoon, but she knew her time was limited before others noticed her absence from the house.
Removing a small canvas sack from the basket, she slipped it over her head and arm.
Tucking her skirts in her waistband, she waded into the shallow surf.
The water was cool, not frigid, and the refreshing waves lapped at her calves.
Excitement trickled in her veins. The Cornwall coast had even more shells than reported in Reeve’s scientific book.
Scanning the surf, she searched for specific shells—an auger shell, common cockle, or whelk.
Bending down, she plucked a colourful shell before the receding wave could carry it away.
She kept searching, tucking shells in her bag as she went.
Then she spotted it—an ordinary shell but not so ordinary.
She slipped it into her pouch and planned to draw it and make notes in her journal.
The water grew cold as she walked in the surf, and eventually she waded from the ocean. She’d sunbathe for a few precious moments before returning to the manor and facing her future.
She froze as she turned towards her blanket. Someone was sitting there. Not just someone.
The Earl of Ralston.