Chapter Nineteen #3
“You’ve said so much about Lord and Lady Holden, what a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance,” Harriet said, hoping she wasn’t too far off the mark.
“I was telling them, my dear, how sorry we were not to be married in a church here in London.” Alexander’s eyes widened and his head nodded along, as if Harriet needed clues that she was meant to corroborate his story.
“Oh yes,” Harriet said, adopting his tone of deep regret, without missing a beat, “Lord Alexander had had his heart set on St. James; however … well. I don’t wish to speak out of turn—I do hope you’ll forgive me—but my father was rather ill earlier this month and we weren’t certain he would make it much longer.
Thus, we made the horrid decision to elope.
It was his dearest wish to see us wed before he passed. ”
“Oh my,” Lord Holden said, clearly affected by the tale.
“I hadn’t heard your father had died,” Lady Holden said, rather snootily.
Bloody hell.
“By the grace of Our Lord he recovered, actually,” Harriet said, solemnly.
“Some say our marriage was what gave him the hope to continue on.” She hoped the detail hadn’t gone too far overboard, although if they were as devotional as she suspected, she didn’t think they’d find it unlikely.
Besides, what good was an absent father for if not to use in a lie occasionally?
It was not like he’d encounter the Holdens in some grand ballroom and contradict her.
“We were so fortunate, grace be to God. It had been so soon after the passing of Lady Alexander’s beloved spaniel,” Alexander added, gazing at her over Lady Holden’s head with a hint of mischief in his eyes. “I didn’t know if she could take another loss.”
“Oh no,” Lady Holden cried, losing all her previous iciness. “I just lost my beloved Alvin last spring. It’s the greatest loss imaginable. They really do become part of the family, don’t they? Lord Holden can attest. I barely got out of bed for months after my Alvie died. What was her name?”
“Lexicon,” Harriet said. Noticing the quizzical look on the Holdens’ faces, she added, “Lexi for short. I was ever so fond of her. You see, Alexander gave her to me years ago when we began courting.”
“Oh, Lawrence!” Lady Holden gushed, overcome with enough emotion to use her husband’s first name. “Isn’t that just the sweetest story you’ve ever heard?”
The man, like his wife, seemed to be genuinely moved by the tale. Harriet couldn’t imagine why, but perhaps that was because she knew there was no dog and no courting and no loving father.
“You know, I’ll admit I had my concerns when my husband began conducting business with Lord Alexander,” Lady Holden shared with Harriet, as if Alexander were not also present in the conversation. “With all his philandering.”
“Lucille!” Lord Holden admonished.
“Oh hush, you can see they’re perfectly respectable people. God-fearing, in love, and they like dogs, dear. No one can have a rotten soul if they like dogs. Clearly the rumors have been exaggerated.”
“Whoever conceals hatred with lying lips and spreads slander is a fool,” Harriet quoted, knowing that most rumors about her husband were true.
In fact, perhaps the only false story Lady Holden had heard about him had come from her own mouth just moments ago.
Though undoubtedly people had cited the Bible to justify worse.
“I couldn’t agree more,” Lady Holden said, as if gossip was suddenly beneath her. “It was lovely to make your acquaintance, Lady Alexander, I hope you get another doggy soon. That’s the only cure, really. Lawrence, I’m ready to go.”
With that, the couple stalked off. Alexander tugged Harriet along with him behind a large potted fern where they both dissolved into laughter.
“Doggy? Doggy!” Alexander repeated, in wonder. “I’ve never seen her like that. The woman positively loathes me, ordinarily.”
“I simply had to lie about every single thing about you.”
“Come now, that’s not fair. I miss Lexi acutely,” he deadpanned. Harriet let out a loud cackle of laughter and he clapped his hand over her mouth to stifle the sound.
Both of them jumped at the touch, as if struck by a thunderbolt. Alexander removed his hand slowly, but it was too late; Harriet’s entire body was ablaze. He broke eye contact first, clearing his throat and looking out at the crowd. It was a grounding reminder that they were in public.
“Is everything all right with your sister?” he asked.
Harriet’s heart began racing as she peeked around the potted plant to search the ball for Philippa’s chestnut hair, the mirror of her own. What the devil had she done now?
Alexander put a gentle hand on her arm, stilling her.
“I saw you talking with her earlier and you seemed upset.” Harriet looked up, somewhat surprised to see genuine concern in his expression.
She realized with a start that the surprise came entirely from her own experience of life and not from her experience with him.
“She’s well enough, I think. Her estate …” Harriet wasn’t entirely sure if Alexander was supposed to know about the whole affair. Besides, that land had been her precious bargaining chip in getting him to marry her. Was it something she might need in the future?
“Reverted to the crown, I heard.” He knew? How long had he known? “Please do offer her my support if she needs anything. You should invite her to dine with us sometime; the company would be good.”
“I’m sure she has plenty of plans. She’s always occupied with someone or other; she won’t be lonely.”
“I meant for you,” he said matter-of-factly. “You miss her.”
Unfortunately, at that moment, they were interrupted by the first notes of a waltz. Alexander cursed and then stepped away from her.
“Excuse me, I have to—I promised—I apologize. I’ll be right back.”
With that, Alexander left her again, only to end up back on the dance floor with another woman. This one was young and fresh-faced; she had the poise of a ballerina. Apparently, the man had no preferences whatsoever when it came to women.
“What kind of husband leaves his new wife all alone?” came an unfamiliar voice near her ear.
So near that Harriet had to fight the unladylike urge to screech and jump away.
Instead, she froze for a moment and then turned slowly to face an impeccably dressed older man.
The dressing didn’t save his appearance.
His face was florid and most of his hair had left his head, the rest being overworked in its absence.
Worst of all, Harriet mused, was that his eyes were entirely blank.
Her mind flashed to a cod dinner she’d had once, the way the fish stared up at her.
Neither Harriet nor the man seemed to expect her to actually answer his opening salvo, so he simply began the conversation again.
“We haven’t been introduced—to Lord Stirling’s discredit.
I figured a small break in propriety wouldn’t be undue; I’m the Duke of Belhaven.
” Harriet could tell her father-in-law was put out by the fact she hadn’t recognized him.
She bowed deeply and suggested it was an honor to make his acquaintance.
Harriet didn’t know much about the man other than that he was Alexander’s father. Alexander hadn’t mentioned him with any fondness, but Harriet had been trained well enough when it came to miserable fathers to turn her brightest personality on. Men loved it when you smiled up at them.
“I must say, I wasn’t apprised of my son’s intention to marry you,” the duke sneered. Harriet was shocked at his rudeness—although, with his fish-eyes, she shouldn’t have been. No one with that type of cold, blank expression ever turned out to be secretly friendly.
“I’m rather not the type of woman he usually goes for, am I?” Harriet demurred. And though she’d had the thought herself many times, she felt a sting of betrayal to share it with this man.