The Rebel Wife: Book Four in the Regency Romps Series Read online

  “Then it’s settled!” said Abby before any of the other gentlemen had a chance to object. “Emma my darling, we have an event to plan – mark my words, it shall be all the crack by the end of the Season!”

  The next hour was taken up by an excited conversation planning out the details of the tournament, but Kate found she could gather little enjoyment from the evening. Alex hovered at the edge of the group, neither offering opinion nor being asked for it. He did not look angry, however; merely troubled.

  Kate took the earliest possible opportunity to make a polite exit, leaving her good friends to their animated discussion about the best distance for the target wafers to be set at.

  “Kate, was the Ton hard on you after I left?” Alex asked as soon as they were in the carriage.

  The question caught her off guard, and she stammered an incoherent half-answer before she knew what she had said.

  Even in the darkness, she could see him grimace. “They did, then. It probably means little to you now, but I’m truly sorry. I believed that my parents’ rank and status in Society would have ensured a smooth entry and acceptance for you. That it did not… well, I can only repeat that I’m sorry.”

  “You weren’t to know,” was all she could think of to say. His apology stung unexpectedly. He wasn’t sorry that he’d left her, only that the Ton had refused to accept her after his so blatant rejection.

  The old pain reared up, and she turned her head to the side, hoping that he could not see her tears in the darkness of the carriage.

  No such luck.

  “Kate, don’t cry! I had no wish to upset you! Lord, you got a poor deal in this marriage, didn’t you?” he said, and then shocked her to her core by pulling her into his arms.

  “I… I…”

  “Hush,” he said, and kissed the top of her head lightly. The feel of his lips on her skin made the world spin sideways, and Kate closed her eyes to better savour the sensation.

  “I’m so glad you’re home,” she murmured, and then blushed at her words – hopinh that he could not see her burning cheeks.

  “I stayed away too long,” he replied, “and it is being increasingly brought home to me how little I understand the world I was born into. Kate – tell me truthfully, would this shooting competition be considered beyond the line?”

  Kate hesitated before answering. “Not beyond, precisely, but certainly close to it. I would not let Helena take part, for example, but then she is so young and unmarried.”

  He didn’t answer for the longest time.

  “I suppose there can be no problem with observing the competition, but if the Ton has truly been so hard on you, it is for the best that you not take part. I understand that you will want to support your friends, Kate, but I’m glad that you’ve outgrown your youthful enthusiasm for shooting.”

  She stiffened for just a moment and then forced herself to relax. His arms were still around her – a feeling she had dreamt about for so long – and she did not want an excuse to make him pull away.

  “I still like to shoot,” she said quietly.

  Alex chuckled. He shifted his weight so that he could place a finger under her chin, raising her face so that her gaze met his. “Do you think I was implying that you were not still young? You are just as young and beautiful as you were when we married, Kate. More so, in fact.”

  She laughed before she could help herself. “I can hardly be younger than I was ten years ago!”

  “True – but certainly more beautiful. You’ve grown into a striking woman, Kate. I’m sorry I missed it.”

  Something changed in his gaze; an emotion she didn’t recognise. Kate frowned, about to ask him what was wrong, when he dipped his head forward and captured her lips with his.

  She almost gasped with shock at the contact, and all reason fled as he pulled her even more tightly into his arms. She had thought the world spun before, but now it disappeared altogether as the man she’d adored as a child, her husband of the past decade, finally kissed her.

  The carriage drew to a halt, and they sprang apart like guilty schoolchildren as they heard the footman approach to open the carriage door.

  Alex grinned suddenly, looking just like he had all those years ago before marriage between them had ever been mentioned.

  “Well,” he said.

  Kate grinned back, thinking that this new-found sense of promise was worth disappointing her friends over. Bella was the better shot, anyway.

  “Well indeed,” she replied, feeling real hope for the first time since Alex’s return.

  Six

  “He’s avoiding me,” whined Helena within moments of getting Eugenia alone. “How can I possibly convince him that he should consent to my marriage if he won’t speak with me unless mother or Kate are there – both of whom will do everything in their power to change the subject!”

  Eugenia found herself wishing that she could follow the Duke’s lead and avoid Helena as well, but lately it seemed like the only way she could speak to Arthur was if his younger sister were present. When she had discovered that Arthur planned to meet Helena for ices at Gunters later that afternoon, she had condescended to invite the tiresome girl to come shopping with her just for an excuse to see him.

  The sacrifices one made for a future spouse were considerable.

  “How terrible for you,” she murmured, studying the spools of ribbon on display in front of them. “Do you think the broad periwinkle will go well with those faux cherries?”

  “No,” said Helena, convincing Eugenia once again that her future sister-in-law had neither tact nor fashion sense. “Why do you want more ribbons, anyway? You bought yards of them only last week.”

  Eugenia did not like to admit that Arthur had been quite cool with his praise when she’d shown him her newly trimmed bonnet. She accepted, of course, that when one was attempting to be in the first stare of fashion one would occasionally stumble, but still, it rankled that he had had not thought seashells and jonquil ribbons to be all the crack.

  “Fashion moves quickly, and so must we if we wish to be ahead of the trend.”

  Helena was glancing over some faux fruit without much enthusiasm. “Kate said that it is better to develop one’s own style rather than trying to ape that of others.”

  Eugenia bristled but managed to keep a smile plastered to her lips. “My darling Helena, you cannot be praising your sister-in-law, can you? The one who has been working to destroy your happiness?”

  Helena frowned. “I never said she was working to destroy my happiness, just prolong my hardship. Besides, that has little to do with the fact she’s always dressed up to the rig.”

  Eugenia sniffed. “If you like blending into the crowd, I suppose.”

  “Arthur says that she is a credit to the family name and that I should follow her lead,” replied Helena with a scowl – although who the expression was directed at, Eugenia could not quite tell. “And while I have no idea why the Ton thinks my brother is a connoisseur of fashion, Mama is right when she says that his approval generally means that the Ton will approve as well. If he approves of Kate’s style, well, I suppose it means she is fashionable.”

  Eugenia, discovering a sudden distaste for the periwinkle ribbons, turned abruptly and walked to the other end of the shop to consider their impressive range of buttons.

  “I declare myself amazed to find that you share dear Arthur’s opinion that the Duchess is a paragon,” Eugenia said, struggling to keep a lid on her temper.

  Helena sauntered over behind her. “I’m hardly Kate’s greatest supporter, and she dresses far more conservatively that I would if I were a Duchess, but there is never anything contemptible about her appearance. Ugh, aren’t those buttons the most excessively ugly things you have ever see?”

  “They’d be less contemptible in silver, I suppose,” said Eugenia, not at all enamoured of them, either. “But come now dearest – why are you suddenly defending your sister-in-law, when she is the sole reason that you cannot marry your beloved Mr Rum
ble?”

  Helena looked troubled. “That’s just it, Eugenia – it’s not Kate! She’s even gone so far as inviting Jonathan to our ball next week, and said that she thought it unexceptional that I reserve the supper dance for him!”

  Eugenia, bored by the subject already, contemplated a charming set of pewter buttons fashioned into the faces of plump cherubs. “So you shall marry him after all.”

  Helena blew out her breath in annoyance. “Lord, have you listened to anything I’ve said? It is Alex who has been avoiding me at every turn, and although Jonathan is perfectly willing to formally apply for my hand in marriage, he feels it best to be certain that my brother is at least willing to entertain his suit before he does so.”

  Which, in Eugenia’s opinion, made him something of a coward.

  “Are you sure you even want to marry him?” she asked, struggling not to yawn. “It seems to me that even a week ago you would have been willing to move heaven and earth to obtain your brother’s consent. Is marriage no longer at the centre of your every thought?”

  Her barb missed, however, for Helena seemed oblivious to the insult.

  Eugenia decided to buy the buttons.

  “If you could see them together, Eugenia, then maybe you wouldn’t be so keen on marriage, either,” said Helena eventually.

  “See who together?”

  “Alex and Kate!”

  Eugenia finished telling the shop assistant to wrap up the pewter cherubs and charge them to her mother’s account before turning back to Helena.

  “Why would that be?” she asked, more interested in Helena’s observations than she cared to admit.

  Helena’s face crumpled into an unattractive frown. “Kate’s… different. She’s quiet, and although she still gets her way over some things – you must remind me to tell you about the incident over the candles and the peas – but as a general rule, well, she agrees with anything Alex says, and then simpers.”

  Eugenia blinked. “The Duchess simpers?”

  “Yes,” said Helena with a sigh. “Lord knows that I never thought I’d say I missed her controlling ways, but honestly Alex can be quite unbearable, besides not having the first notion about how to go on in Society! Do you know he was adamant that we cancel attending the Fitzburgh’s Venetian Breakfast just because some old fuddy-duddy at his club said they were considered fast? Or that Kate – Kate, of all people! – had to tell him that there was nothing wrong with my wearing a cherry-red pelisse? I mean, Kate’s the one who ordered half the modiste’s in London to send dress designs to her for approval before they sew so much as a half-sleeve for me!”

  “I fail to see what this has to do with your marriage to Mr Rumble.”

  “Only the fact that if this is what having a husband does to you, I want no part in it,” said Helena with a shake of her head. “I even overheard her having an argument with Lady Colbourne. Apparently, she was to take part in a shooting competition at Berkeley Square, but because Alex was too stuffy to approve, Kate has refused to participate – as though she hasn’t taken part in them several times before!”

  Eugenia took the small package of wrapped buttons from the shop assistant and passed it over to her bored footman without a word.

  “There is a difference between a private shooting competition and a public exhibition. I am surprised your sister-in-law had the delicacy of nature to refuse.”

  “Utter fudge,” scoffed Helena. “Firstly, she’s the Duchess of Lexborough, she can do what she jolly well pleases. Secondly, she’s only said no because of Alex.”

  Eugenia chose to ignore the first part of Helena’s comment.

  “And is he pleased, do you think?”

  “He seems mightily proud of his quiet, delicate wife,” said Helena with undisguised scorn.

  “It seems as though there has been a reconciliation between your brother and his wife,” Eugenia said carefully.

  Helena made a rude noise. “Yes, if you consider Kate sacrificing herself for Alex’s benefit a reconciliation. I swear, I’m going to declare myself newly accepted to Astley’s Equestriennes just to provoke a reaction out of her.”

  Eugenia made a non-committal noise as she considered the problem.

  “Perhaps they are simply putting on a show for the rest of the world,” she said, not really believing it. It seemed eminently sensible to her that the Duchess would pretend to be in love with her husband if it resulted in his remaining in London long enough for an heir to be born. It was exactly what she would do in the same situation.

  “I regret to say that I think Kate is sickeningly fond of my brother. Honestly, Eugenia, if this is what love does to a woman, then perhaps Kate was right when she said I should wait a few more years before getting married.”

  “I’m sure it would be different for you,” said Eugenia, more because she knew it was what she was supposed to say rather that her actual views on the matter. “Now, shall we go join Arthur at Gunters?”

  Helena noticeably perked up at the prospect of ices. She then proceeded to rabbit on about the treats her mother intended to order for their upcoming ball, while Eugenia paid very little attention to anything she said.

  It was only a short ride in her carriage, but it allowed Eugenia time to consider whether her betrothed had any real prospect of inheriting the dukedom, after all. She was still considering the problem as they pulled up at Berkeley Square opposite numbers 7&8, and her driver asked whether she wished him to ascertain if Lord Arthur was inside.

  “Let us eat inside, Eugenia,” begged Helena. “I know your carriage is slap up to the echo, but that wind is cutting straight through my pelisse.”

  Eugenia glanced upward. The weather was dry, but the grey skies promised an inclement turn at any moment.

  “Yes, l agree. Let’s go inside and see if your brother has been so kind as to order our ices for us; we are only a little late, after all.”

  It seemed that her prediction was correct. Arthur was indeed seated inside at a table near the window, However, as keen as she may have been to see and speak with her future husband, she was less impressed by his choice of companion.

  Lord Snowley, the Baron Snowley, lounged in his chair with a casualness that she could not approve of. It was true that he did not look as haggard as he had at the start of the Season – indeed, he looked almost handsome in his coat of blue superfine, a perfectly starched cravat and finely knitted grey inexpressibles – but since the sources of his newfound wealth were his brother-in-law, Lord Colbourne, and his new stepfather, Lord Pocklington, she found his smug aloofness to be irritating.

  To think, she had once condescended to consider him as a potential husband!

  “Lady Helena, your appearance is like the sun bursting through a sea of monotonous grey clouds,” said Lord Snowley with a devilish grin.

  Helena, who showed a disappointing propensity to be charmed by outrageous flattery, simply giggled in response.

  “I could say the same about you, my Lord, but only if that ice you have for me is bergamot and punch!”

  “As if I would ever forget your favourite,” declared Snowley, which only made Helena laugh louder.

  “Arthur told you!” she replied, and the two of them engaged in some silly banter that was, in Eugenia’s eyes, unbecoming to them both.

  “Your choice in friends leaves a little to be desired, my dear,” she murmured to Arthur as soon as a moment presented itself. “Surely fraternising with a family such as the Snowleys does little to add to your consequence.”

  Arthur paused, the spoon full of muscadine ice hovering over the glass dish for a moment before he consumed it. Eugenia took a delicate bite of her own lavender ice cream as Arthur considered her observation.

  “I have known Snowley for years, and count him as a friend,” said Arthur, not looking up from his dish. “We went our separate ways for a few years when he went to Cambridge instead of Oxford like a civilised creature, but since his sister married Colbourne he’s practically family.”

 
; Eugenia frowned, surprised that he was challenging her. “I suppose, but one does not have to maintain more than a passing acquaintance with less desirable individuals from our past.”

  “Actually, Snowley and I are discussing a business proposition,” said Arthur before shovelling a large spoonful of ice into his mouth.

  Eugenia blanched as a bolt of pain shot through her eye. She swallowed the last of the lavender ice and sat up as straight as she dared, desperate not to look so uncouth as to be suffering from a nervous tic.

  Arthur, however, took her silence to be an encouragement to continue. “We’ve discussed a few things before, of course, but the limitations of our rank make it difficult to come up with something suitable. Lord Pocklington, however, has been most encouraging.”

  Eugenia, the pain shooting through her eye having subsided, sniffed in distaste. “I would not take advice on being a gentleman from a man who made his fortune in trade.”

  “Like your grandfather?” asked Arthur, and Eugenia gasped in shock.

  “That’s entirely different!” she replied in a savage whisper.

  Arthur finally looked up and met her gaze. “Leave the affairs of gentlemen to the gentlemen, Eugenia. You are not as up to the snuff as you think.”

  “I do not know what has come over you, Arthur, but I have to say that it is unbecoming,” said Eugenia. They both continued to consume their delicate ices in silence, while Lord Snowley and Helena laughed at some shared joke beside them.

  She glanced over at Arthur, considering the frustration visible on his usually affable countenance. A thought occurred to her, and she softened as she realised why her betrothed was in such poor temper.

  “Helena shared with me that your brother and his wife are reconciled,” she said archly. “No doubt that explains your mood today.”

  Arthur looked surprised. “What do you mean?”

  She pushed the lavender ice around her glass bowl and looked up at him through her lashes. “Obviously, you are concerned that a reconciliation would mean an heir, and you are worried that I will break off our engagement. I am not quite so fickle as that, my dear Arthur.”