“What do you think, Jamie?” she asked. He shrugged.
“Could be worse, I guess.” He glanced at her. “What do you think?”
Hannah bit her lip. “I don’t know yet.”
That night after everyone else had gone to bed, Hannah sat up with a pot of tea and thought through her options as coolly as she could. It was not an easy decision, but in the end there were too many arguments for it, and not enough against it. In the morning, hoping she was making the right decision, she told David yes.
The banns were read the following Sunday.
Percy dropped into the chair with a groan. “Damn, Reece, you’ve put your foot in it this time.” He held out a letter with a familiar seal.
David tossed it onto the bed and went back to scratching his foot He had expected it would be completely better by now, and was annoyed by the bandages and the cane he still needed. “Not your damn business, nor anyone else’s.”
“Huh,” snorted Percy. “I managed to avoid him for three weeks, and paid for it. An hour he had me in his study, Reece, an hour! Is he really your brother?”
“Sadly,” said David under his breath. That must be why Percy had returned to Misbegotten Middlebor-ough, as he had called it before bolting for London. “Many thanks, Percy.”
His friend uncorked the bottle of brandy. David accepted a glass after a moment’s hesitation. He had given up almost all drink while at the vicarage, but by the second glass the familiar warmth settled over him. Percy was full of news of town: Walker’s new bays, which he expected to run at Ascot and earn back their extravagant purchase price, Hadley’s fight with
Devere over an opera dancer, Brixton wagering and losing half his inheritance one night, and winning it back the next.
David listened moodily. He knew it had been a bad idea to invite Percy to stay for the wedding. As long as he was steeped in the pure air of this little village, he wasn’t tempted to return to his old ways. Percy’s stories, though, stirred those dark and wild urges within him that he had sworn to banish with Hannah’s help. No more carriage racing, drinking, or whoring, if he was to be her husband. But the more Percy talked, the stronger the discomfort became, like spiders crawling under his skin. Could he never drink again? Never visit a brothel again? What was he thinking, getting married while he was still young?
As if reading his thoughts, Percy kicked his uninjured foot. “Why’d you do it? Marriage is one thing, but a vicar’s wife! Christ, man, you might as well become a vicar yourself.”
“Leave it, Percy.” David tried to ignore the prickling feeling that his friend was right. “I gave my word.”
Percy laughed. “Consigned to marital drudgery. It won’t be the same without you.” He upended the bottle over his glass.
“She’s a very good woman,” argued David. If Percy would just go away, he might still be at peace with his decision. Hannah could be the saving of him. Assuming he still wanted to be saved, which he thought he did. Probably.
“Been the end of more men than any other sort.” Percy snickered. “No more women, no more drinking, no more cards or horse races or fights. To your imminent demise!” He lifted his glass as David glared at him. Suddenly Percy stopped, a delighted look on his face. He leaned forward, sloshing brandy onto his trousers.
“You know who ought to marry her? His grace! No vice, no excess, no fun! They’re a perfect match!”
“Stubble it,” growled David. The wicked urges were waging war against the honorable ones, with Percy’s help.
“Right.” Percy subsided into his chair. “No doubt you’ll learn the life soon enough, give up all your friends and habits to sit at home and read sermons.” He produced a pair of cigars and offered one. “Last smoke, old boy?”
David snatched it from his hand. “Go away, Percy. I’ve a wedding tomorrow.” Percy got to his feet with another snigger and staggered off to his room. David contemplated the cigar, and Percy’s words.
All right, so he was beginning to regret his offer to Hannah. He still liked her very much, but he’d been seduced by the enforced solitude of the last few weeks. As long as he stayed here, her company might be enough, but he couldn’t live the rest of his life in Middleborough. The mention of a horse race or a cockfight made his blood race; he wasn’t cut out for the quiet country existence.
But she needed someone to take care of her, someone who would appreciate her, and love Molly, and protect them both. David had wanted to be that person, but finally acknowledged he wasn’t ready to change that much. The prospect of reforming his life, which had so appealed to him two weeks ago, now looked fatally dull.
But how could he get out of it now? He had given his word, the banns had been read, she was probably laying out her dress right now. She would be humiliated if he backed out now. Not that a gentleman
could
back out, of course.
His eyes fell on the letter Percy had brought. His brother, damn it all, had found out where he was, although probably not what he was doing. Percy would have delighted in telling all about Marcus’s reaction to that news. David reached for the letter and broke the seal.
It was a long indictment. There was barely a salutation before the recriminations began. David ignored them, skipping to the bottom of the page:
Your utter lack of consideration astounds me. To disappear for weeks without word is bad enough, leaving your household to apply to mine for their wages and funds, but to ignore Celia’s birthday when you had most solemnly promised to attend is beyond contempt. She is a girl of seventeen, and strangely enough, dotes on you. I am disgusted by your disregard for her feelings. You have shown yourself irresponsible, reckless, and completely selfish. I will expect a full accounting of your activities and excuses when you return to London. My carriage will arrive tomorrow to convey you, since accomplishing the trip unaided seems beyond you.
Exeter
David put the letter aside with a grimace. Even to his own brother, he signed himself Exeter. Percy was half-right: his brother was Hannah’s equal in matters of responsibility. Not that Marcus would ever look at a woman like Hannah, for all that she was attractive and intelligent and filled to overflowing with common sense. Marcus would have a woman of property and breeding who would obey orders. Wouldn’t it be amusing to watch them cross swords, though? David thought with a grin. If only there were some way to throw them together without any danger to himself…
An audacious idea came to him. Something that he hadn’t done in years, something Marcus had threatened to kill him for if he ever tried again. But if he managed it, Hannah would be set, he would be free, and Marcus would swallow a dose of his own medicine. All in all, it sounded rather ideal. David seized his cane and hobbled after Percy.
“Oh, no,” was Percy’s assessment. “Really, Reece. That’s too far. He’ll horsewhip you for certain.”
“I’ll tell him you helped me, of course.”
Percy swore. “No! Even I have more sense than that.”
“Come on, Percy,” cajoled David, warming to the idea with every moment “It’ll be better than when we convinced old Deveraux his mistress was sleeping with his son. How could you miss it?”
“I value my life, that’s how. He’s not my brother. He’ll kill me.”
“Let’s go to Italy, then. If we’re gone before Marcus finds out, everything will be fine.” Percy grumbled some more, but David could see that he was weakening. It had been a long time since they pulled off such a prank, and perhaps if Marcus had given him any credit for that, David wouldn’t have considered this. But he was the useless younger brother; Marcus was responsible and competent and did everything to perfection. David had been raised with the trappings of wealth and power, but no real hope of possessing them, and with a dry stick like Marcus hovering critically over him, there was absolutely nothing for him to do but enjoy life, in any way he could. In the end, Percy agreed, as he always agreed to David’s suggestions, and they opened a botde of wine to perfect the plan.
“David, is something bothering you?” Hannah asked. They were five miles out of Middleborough, finally free of the wedding guests, and heading for
London in a luxurious coach which had appeared mysteriously at the White Swan. David said only that it was his brother’s, sent to bring them back to town. Hannah thought it very kind of his brother to send the coach even if he hadn’t attended the wedding, but when she said so, David just gave her a curiously cunning smile. All day he seemed to hum with excited energy, as did Mr. Percy. If they weren’t grown men and beyond such things, Hannah would suspect they were plotting mischief.
“No.” He had propped his still-healing ankle on the opposite seat where Molly was curled into a sleepy ball, her doll clutched to her jam-smeared dress. “Why do you ask?”
“You seem very excited about something.”
He grinned. “Why shouldn’t I be?” Hannah colored.
“David, I hope that… perhaps I should—”
“Hannah,” he said, taking her hand. “I promised I wouldn’t ask. That’s not what I meant.” She breathed a faint sigh, ashamed of herself for being so relieved. The thought of the wedding night had given her some pause. On her first wedding night, Stephen had been almost as nervous as she, but there had been no thought of waiting. David was being generous.
“Thank you. I’m sorry I mentioned it.” He nodded, releasing her hand. Hannah put it back in her lap. Curiously, she still felt no spark of attraction at his touch, just a strange sense of disbelief that she was someone’s wife again. She hoped her lack of warmth hadn’t disappointed him.
By the time they reached London shortly after nightfall, Hannah was exhausted. Once woken from her nap, Molly grew restive and cross. David had managed to calm her with a long story about a princess who tamed a dragon with strawberry tarts. He really was very good with her, but eventually Molly erupted into a full-fledged temper fit. Hannah almost wept with relief when they finally stopped outside a handsome town house, and Molly stopped crying. David took Molly by the hand and asked if she would like to see her new room. Hannah wearily brought up the rear, not too tired to notice the quiet affluence of the neighborhood. David knocked on the door, and the man who answered it looked like he would faint with shock. “L-L-Lord David?”
“Why yes, Walters, the very same. May we come in?” His mouth still agape, the man stepped aside. David swept Molly into his arms and carried her inside. Her finger was lodged in her mouth as she stared at the man holding the door. “This is Miss Molly Preston, and her mother.”
Hannah hesitated, watching David start up the stairs. She had a nagging feeling something wasn’t right. “Mrs. Preston?” asked the man called Walters, watching her worriedly.
“Reece,” she corrected, wishing David had introduced her. But they were all tired. “David is my husband.” He and Molly were out of sight now, leaving her alone. “You are Mr. Walters?”
He gulped and bowed. “
Yes
, madam. If there is any-thing you require, notify me at once.”
Hannah nodded, forcing a smile. “Thank you. I should see to my daughter,” she murmured, and hurried after David. She found him in a large, elegant room, tucking Molly into bed. Her child looked small and lonely in the middle of the wide bed decorated in swadies of pink silk. White velvet drapes covered the window, and the white and gold furniture was daintily carved. It was a decidedly feminine room, and set the alarm bells ringing in Hannah’s head. She made sure Missy was tucked in with Molly, and followed David into the hall.
“Whose house is this?” she demanded. “That room is decorated for a woman. And who is Mr. Walters?”
He chuckled. “Walters is the butler. The house belongs to my brother; I have a sister, you know. But it’s always ready, and much nicer than my rooms, so I thought we should stay here. It’s just for a few days, until my other arrangements are ready.”
Partially mollified, Hannah hesitated. “I’m sorry. But you might have told me.”
“I know.” Not looking very sorry, he kissed her hand. “I’ll have your trunks brought up immediately.”
“Didn’t Mr. Walters expect us? He looked shocked to see us.”
Again that secretive smile that had so disturbed her earlier. “No, I didn’t have time to send word. But the house is always maintained, so nothing should be lacking. Don’t worry, Hannah, everything will be fine.” He squeezed her hand and released it “I’ll see you in the morning. Sleep well.”
Hannah watched him stroll down the stairs, whistling softly, and had the feeling again that there was something he wasn’t telling her. Mr. Walters brought her trunk a few minutes later, and she got out hers and Molly’s nightclothes, then dressed her sleepy daughter for bed. By the time she was ready for bed herself, Molly was already fast asleep. Before climbing into bed, Hannah went to the window and pulled aside the drape.
The heavy fabric felt thick and lush in her hand, unlike the cotton curtains in her room at the vicarage. It would take her quite a while to get used to the vastly more comfortable circumstance of her new husband’s family. A butler, velvet drapes, silk bedhangings. She peered out the window at the unfamiliar city lights and buildings. She had never been to London, or even expected to go. Perhaps she ought to start considering the adventure her new life might hold.
* * *
“May we see a circus today?” Molly asked over breakfast the next morning. David laughed, setting down his coffee cup.
“Not today, moppet. I’ve some business to attend to, and I’m sure your mother will want to explore a bit.” He looked at Hannah. “Walters will be able to tell you how to get around.”
“Is there a park or a green nearby?” Molly was already trying Hannah’s patience. She had awakened to find her daughter standing on a lovely but precarious chair, going through the wardrobe, which contained some very immodest items. Hannah wasn’t precisely sure what all of them were, but she thought they were really too decadent for a young girl like David’s sister.
Judge not, that you be not judged
, she had reminded herself, shooing Molly out and closing the wardrobe door firmly.