A Spinster's Luck (28 page)

“Surprise Drake?” Imy asked impatiently. “Why? How?”

A smile began at the corners of Celia's mouth as she looked up at her dearest friend.

“You see, Imy, before Drake and I were married, before I knew about the inheritance, Drake bought this beautiful fabric because he knew I had admired it.” She looked down tenderly at the gown she wore and stroked the fabric lovingly.

“So I sent the bolt off to Madame Triaud, without telling Drake” She continued her explanation as Dora finished tying the ribbons of her right shoe. “I wanted to have something very special for our first party. I didn't want Drake to see what Madame Triaud had created so Dora and I hid everything weeks ago. Tonight we could not find the slippers Madame Triaud had sent with the gown. Dora and I have been rushing around like madwomen trying to locate them.” Celia ended her explanation on a laugh.

“I know Drake will find you a vision well worth the wait,” Imy said loyally as she walked back toward the door. “But come now, before your guests think Drake's marriage is a hoax.”

Celia laughed again at her friend's words as Dora finished tying the bow around her left ankle and the two friends left the room together.

“I am so pleased you, David, and the boys are staying with us,” Celia said happily as they went down the staircase arm in arm. “You are stunning this evening, Imy. I have never seen you so radiant.”

“Nor I you. Marriage obviously agrees with us.” Imy smiled and squeezed Celia's arm in affection. “Let me go in first, Celly, so your grand entrance won't be spoiled.”

Celia hesitated on the last step, looking at Imy with a very faint frown marring her brow.

“Imy, is
she
here?”

They both knew who “she” was.

“Yes, she is,” Imy said with disdain. “And so is the earl. You'll finally make his acquaintance,” she said before nodding to a footman to open the door for her.

Celia stood alone for a moment outside the grand salon, listening to the loud hum of voices coming from behind the closed doors.

Tonight she really would be the Duchess of Severly, Celia thought with some trepidation.

These last four months had been the most blissful of her life. Each day she had come to know her husband better, her love had grown deeper and stronger, until she now felt as if he were a part of her and she of him. She
loved Severly Park. It already felt like home because Drake had gone to such lengths to make her feel as if she not only belonged at his side but that he valued her ideas and opinions on improvements he planned for the vast estate.

Celia adored being Drake's wife. But until now, she had not felt like a duchess. She wanted so badly to make him proud of her. But here she was, all flustered from being late, she thought with some anxiety as she checked her appearance one last time in a large hall mirror.

Madame Triaud had included a note in the parcel when she sent the completed ensemble. The modiste wrote that she considered the violet-blue gown her greatest creation, even more magnificent than anything in Princess Charlotte's trousseau. Celia had to agree.

Lifting her chin, she turned back to the doors and nodded to the liveried footmen. As the doors opened, the merry noise coming from the mass of people seemed to assail her senses. She hesitated slightly as the doors closed behind her, trying to catch sight of Drake so that he would come to her side. She saw him immediately and, thank goodness, he was close by. She had not wanted to cross the packed room on her own.

He was next to her instantly, his broad-shouldered presence giving her the confidence she suddenly lacked.

Celia saw his eyes travel over her form, taking in the beautiful gown that had been created from his gift. She watched with shy pleasure as his slight look of surprise changed to that look of intimate admiration that had become so familiar to her in the last few months.

“Here you are, my love.” He bowed formally over her hand, the look on his face revealing the pride and tenderness he felt for her.

Celia did not notice that a hush had suddenly come over the assemblage as she smiled deeply into her husband's eyes. “Forgive my lateness, darling, but I couldn't find my slippers.”

At the absurdity of this excuse, Drake threw back his head and laughed. Those nearest joined the duke, and as the comment was repeated throughout the room, soon
everyone was laughing with him at the uncontrived wit of his beautiful wife.

The duke spent the next half hour introducing Celia to those in the room she had not met before. Soon, any lingering trepidation at her first social appearance as Drake's wife dissipated as everyone welcomed her warmly.

“Ho, ho, young devil, I can see why you kept this beauty hidden all this time,” said the elderly Lord Layton, with a wink and a nudge to Drake's ribs.

“Why, I never thought to see young Severly so besotted with anyone, especially a wife,” Lord Kerwood said to his Lady Kerwood, his voice carrying across the room due to a bit of deafness.

“Believe me, milord, neither did I,” the duke said with a self-deprecating smile that caused even more comment and laughter throughout the room.

Drake continued to squire his wife among the guests, stopping here and there to chat with their guests. Celia decided she was beginning to enjoy herself, especially when she espied Corinna Sheffield and the earl of Chandley standing together on the other side of the room, deep in conversation. She had invited each of them to stay at Severly Park and was quite pleased when both accepted. Celia secretly hoped they would come to realize what she believed—that they were well matched.

Celia was pulled from the contemplation of her friends' potential romance when she heard the ever-so-slight change of tone in her husband's deep voice.

“My dear, allow me to make known to you Lord Kendall. You have met Lady Kendall, of course.”

Celia paused a moment to gain her composure before turning to these guests. This was the moment she'd been dreading all day. Steeling herself for the inevitable meeting with Letty Kendall, Celia lifted her chin slightly. How like the beau monde, Celia thought with a wry smile touching her lips. It was the most urbane thing in the world to meet the husband of your husband's former mistress.

With a mental sigh, Celia knew it was best to just get
it over with; to snub the Kendalls would only give credence to any lingering gossip about Drake and Lady Kendall. Celia had hoped that they would have the good graces to send their regrets, but her hopes were dashed when the butler had brought a stack of replies for her to review over breakfast last week. At the top of the pile was a note from Lady Kendall saying that she and the earl would be delighted to attend the Duke and Duchess of Severly.

Celia hoped the smile she had so firmly planted on her lips appeared natural as she greeted Lord and Lady Kendall.

But to her surprise, the Earl of Kendall was not at all what Celia had expected. The man before her was certainly not old. He was tall, fair, and very attractive, she observed as he made an elegant leg before her.

Casting a quick look at the petite woman standing next to the earl, Celia saw that Letty Kendall looked like a porcelain doll in her pale blue gown. Except for the truculent expression marring her pretty face, Celia could not help thinking with some satisfaction.

“Welcome to Severly Park, Lord and Lady Kendall. I hope this bad weather did not make your journey a chore?” Celia said, smiling at the earl and refusing to look at Letty again unless she was forced to.

“Indeed not, your grace. Even if the weather had been far worse, it would not have stopped me from accepting an invitation to Severly Park. Everyone speaks of your grace's beauty and charm. I had a desire to see for myself if the rumors were true. I can now attest that they are,” the earl drawled with what could only be characterized as an intimate smile.

Celia's beautiful eyes met Drake's in a flashing moment of shared amusement. She was hard-put not to laugh, especially when she saw the effect Lord Kendall's words had on his pouty wife. The petite woman's head whipped up to stare at her husband in annoyed surprise at this compliment.

Before another word could be spoken, Drake put his hand on Celia's elbow and said, “You must pardon us,
Lord Kendall, Lady Kendall. I see my cousin standing unattended, and he has not yet met my bride.” With a slight inclination of his head, Drake drew Celia away.

As they moved across the room together, Celia tossed her husband a mock accusing look.

“I seem to recall, your grace, your describing the earl as rather old. He's only a year or two older than you if he's a day.” She kept a smile on her face and her voice low.

Her husband quirked a brow and shrugged his broad shoulders. “I have no interest in Kendall's age,” he stated dismissively.

But Celia was not ready to give up her tease. “He could be considered a very attractive man,” she declared as they neared Imogene and David.

“Do you consider him so?” Drake's glittering hazel eyes met hers in a look of such possessive passion that her knees grew weak.

“Not really,” she whispered truthfully, her eyes still locked with his.

“Good,” he said huskily, allowing his fingers to trail down the inside of her arm to stroke her wrist with strong, warm fingers.

The gaiety continued well into the evening, and Celia decided that playing hostess was not so daunting after all. A smile touched her lips as she took a moment from her conversation with the Dowager Duchess of Harbrooke and Corinna Sheffield to scan the well-appointed room, making sure her guests were happy.

“You are giving a very good accounting of yourself, Celia,” the dowager said fondly.

Celia gave a radiant smile to the older woman. This praise meant a great deal to Celia, for she had always admired Imy's mother-in-law. “Thank you, ma'am,” Celia said as she sketched a quick curtsy. “If I have not made a goose of myself this evening, it is only because I have always tried to emulate you and dear Imogene all these years.”

The dowager looked well pleased at Celia's words. Corinna gazed at her friend in admiration. She wondered
once again how Letty Kendall had had the nerve to spread the rumor about Celia's being a servant when it was so well known that Celia was on intimate terms with some of the finest families in the country.

“La! This is such a delightful evening, my dear duchess.”

The three ladies turned at the sound of Letty Kendall's childish voice.

Looking down at the petite woman, Celia saw the malice plainly evident in her wide blue eyes. Celia cast a quick glance at Corinna and saw her roll her eyes in distaste.

“I am pleased that you are enjoying yourself,” Celia said in a neutral tone.

“Oh, la, yes,” Lady Kendall tittered. “I
always
enjoy myself at Severly Park. Severly is such an attentive host.”

Celia knew she was meant to catch the sly note of intimacy so obvious in the petite woman's tone. Suddenly, Celia was out of patience with the countess. It was one thing to accept the occasional social slight, but quite another to be baited in her own home, she thought in rising aggravation.

Raising one eyebrow, Celia strove to make her expression as indifferent as possible. “If you continue to make yourself tiresome Lady Kendall, this may be the last time you enjoy yourself at Severly Park,” Celia said coolly.

After a moment of stunned silence, Corinna made an unintelligible sound before clamping a hand over her mouth. As Celia continued to look down at Lady Kendall, her heart racing at her own boldness, she heard the dowager duchess chuckle approvingly.

Letty sputtered her outrage. “Well! I have never—”

“Of course you have, my dear,” cut in Lord Kendall silkily, stepping into their circle. Turning to Celia, the earl made a slight bow. “We have enjoyed your hospitality this eve, your grace, but alas, we must depart. Come, Leticia.” There was a hard edge to his voice as he ended this pretty speech.

Letty continued to sputter her indignation as her husband led her away, with the entire room staring after
them. Corinna finally pulled her hand from her mouth and allowed the barely contained laughter to escape.

Imogene, who had been standing close by with the major, leaned forward with laughter-filled eyes and said, “My dear Celia, you really are a duchess.”

In the very early hours of the morning, lying together in their huge canopied bed with her head resting sleepily on her husband's shoulder, Celia felt Drake's lips against her temple.

“I love you, Celia,” he said in a deep, sleep-husky voice.

Celia snuggled deeper under the sumptuous blankets, savoring the warmth of his strong arms around her. “I love you too, darling.”

She was almost asleep when a thought drifted through her mind, causing a very small chuckle.

“What amuses you at such a late hour, love?”

Raising her head slightly from his shoulder, she looked at her husband's face. She could barely make out his strong features in the darkened room. Her heart swelled with the enormity of her love for him.

“Edna would have loved this evening,” she whispered with a smile.

 

Keep reading for a special excerpt from the next eBook by Rhonda Woodward

 

A HINT OF SCANDAL

 

Available October 2012 from InterMix

1818

S
eated in a threadbare chair near the fireplace, the tall man pulled a gold timepiece from his pocket for the third time in the last twenty minutes.

It was well past two o'clock in the morning, he noted, his jaw tightening with worry and irritation. Replacing the watch, he turned to look over his shoulder, almost willing there to be a sign of Johnny, his groom. Again, he was disappointed.

He continued to scan the public room of the shabby little posting inn where he'd been cooling his spurs for several hours. Though he was impatient to leave this dank place, he and Johnny had felt themselves lucky to happen upon it earlier that evening. The Blue Boar, despite its shabbiness, had at least been shelter from the raging storm that still whirled outside.