Page 50 of The Banished Bride
“So it is.” His expression became rather odd. “Forgive me. As a gentleman I should honor your reluctance to speak more on the subject. But as a friend …”
The arrival of the portly Mr. Drimble to claim Aurora’s hand made further words impossible. With a gracious bow, Jack relinquished his place. He exchanged greetings with severalacquaintances, but rather than linger in the crowded ballroom, he chose to wander out through the set of open french doors that led to the terrace. A breeze had blown out several of the torches, but as he leaned back against the carved marble balustrade, the remaining flickers revealed that he was not alone.
“You and your partner appeared to be enjoying yourselves immensely, Wheatley.” Irritation bubbled up in Alex’s voice, though a surfeit of champagne submerged the worst of it.
Jack turned a quizzical eye on him. “Yes, well, Aurora is a most interesting—and unique—companion, as we both have reason to know,” he replied lightly. “Never a dull moment in her presence.” He watched a moth veer towards the nearest open flame, then shrugged as if acknowledging that his next actions might be equally as foolhardy. “Already she has no dearth of admirers, what with the intriguing little hints Lady Renfrew has let drop over the course of the evening. It appears the combination of her striking looks, the possible prospect of Fenimore blunt and a healthy dash of mystery concerning her past have made her the most fascinating addition to the Marriage Mart in quite some time.”
A muttered oath was the only reply.
“I imagine she will soon have a number of offers to sort through. Daunting task for a lady, especially one unacquainted with Society. But then, she has you to turn to for advice on whose suit to accept.”
Despite the experience of several trips aboard a Royal Navy vessel, Jack felt his ears turn red at the rather lengthy string of curses that followed. He ducked his head and studied the fobs on his watch chain until the last of the invectives had died away. “Er, do I take that to mean you are not in favor of her contracting another match?” he asked with great innocence.
“You may take that to mean that regardless of what rumors you have heard, Aurora is not … available,” growled Alex.
“I see. Well, she seems to be in complete agreement with you, though perhaps not for the same reason.” He still had not looked up from the intricate intaglio designs cut into the bits of onyx. “And what of the other rumors I have heard? It’s said by some at Whitehall that you are—well, that you are married, though no one seems to have ever met your wife. Or to have the slightest notion of whether she might be English, Spanish, Hindu or Tartar.”
Alex turned so that nothing was visible of his face save for a hard edged profile silhouetted by a faint aureole of light from the closest torch. “We are discussing Aurora, not my personal affairs.”
“The two aren’t … related?” asked Jack softly.
The earl’s jaw became even more clenched.
“Perhaps it is none of my business, but I have come to think of the two of you as friends. I have been told that marriage is an enviable state if one has chosen the right partner. The trouble is a mistake, once made?—”
“Stubble it, Wheatley,” replied Alex in what was clearly a tone of warning. “I am in no mood for any more advice this evening, especially from one who has spent the last quarter of an hour staring down the dress of the lady in question.”
Jack looked as if he didn’t know whether to laugh or to issue a challenge for the coming dawn. Then, stung by the earl’s acid comment, he was moved to make his own sharp retort “At least I have a right to stare at those lovely curves. I am able to offer her something more than a tap on the shoulder.”
Alex’s hand was suddenly clenching the intricate folds of the other man’s cravat. “The devil you do.” he snarled, all his frustrations overflowing onto his friend. “I advise you to?—”
The musicians must have taken a break from their playing, for several couples appeared on the edge of the terrace, and a murmur of voices indicated that others were not far behind.Alex’s fingers slipped from the starched linen, leaving Jack to smooth at the crinkled folds, along with his own ruffled feelings.
“Have a care, Woodbridge” he said softly, shaking his head and regarding the earl with a measure of anger and sympathy. “I do not pretend to understand what is going on, but something tell me that it is more dangerous for both of you than anything we faced in Scotland. I shall not forgive you if you hurt her.”
“Jack!”
Aurora was among the couples seeking a breath of fresh air and on catching sight of her friend, she nearly dragged her escort away from one of the paths leading out to the gardens. By the twist of the fellow’s features, it was clear that his intention in taking a walk had been other than allowing any other gentlemen to share her company. Still he had no choice but to accede to her wishes and reluctantly followed her lead over to the stone balustrade.
“Jack,” she repeated. “Lord Greeley suggested a tour of your mother’s garden, but I had much rather stay here and converse with friends.” Her smile wavered slightly at catching sight of the figure behind him. “Good evening, Lord Woodbridge,” she added a bit more hesitantly. “I do not wish to interrupt a private conversation—” Taking in the grim expressions of both gentleman, she drew to an abrupt halt. ”Is something amiss?” she asked.
“No, we have just finished on the subject that perhaps was a bit too serious to be discussed at an evening meant for fun and frivolity,” replied Alex as he brushed a speck of pollen from his sleeve. “I trust you are having a pleasant evening, Mrs. Sprague?” he inquired with a cool politeness.
She nodded, though her own expression was hardly gay.
Her partner looked decidedly uncomfortable at having run smack into the nominal head of the lady’s family. “Awfully warm inside,” he stammered, eyeing the earl’s muscled shoulders withsome trepidation. ”Mrs. Sprague remarked on how she would like to escape for a moment or two from such a crush. Er, hope you have no objection.”
“Not at all.” Alex had turned to pick up his glass, a shrug of nonchalance masking the urge to plant the spindle-shanked young man a facer he would not soon forget for keeping his hand resting on Aurora’s wrist. “Mrs. Sprague is quite capable of making her own decisions. But I, on the other hand, am finding I have had enough of the chill night air. I think I shall go back inside and enjoy the rest of the festivities.”
Leaving a still offended Jack, a slightly hurt Aurora and a vastly relieved Lord Greenley, he headed back toward the open french doors.
So much for a change in strategy, he thought, thoroughly disgusted with his own actions. He had nearly come to blows with a well-meaning friend and then managed no more than a scowl—no doubt an odious one—for Aurora. At this rate his campaign would be routed before it had properly begun. Perhaps he would be better off changing tactics and seeking out the sultry widow who had partnered him for the first waltz of the evening. She, at least, seemed able to tolerate his presence.
But instead of looking for solace in that direction, he merely drained another glass of champagne and gave orders for his carriage to be brought around.
“Well, Lord Woodbridge does not appear to be a fellow to kick up a dust over your activities, it seems,” said Aurora’s escort as he mopped at his brow with a silk pocket square and gave silent thanks for the earl’s departure.
“No,” she said quietly, her eyes surreptitiously following Alex’s progress through the growing thong of revelers until he disappeared into the ballroom. “But I am not a green chit, without any experience in the world. There is no need for him to take any notice of what I choose to do.”
