Caversham's Bride (The Caversham Chronicles - Book One) (30 page)

“To what do I owe the honor, Your Majesty?” Ren tucked Lia possessively into the crook of his arm. His voice held an undertone of fashionable boredom. “I haven’t been in Town long enough to make the announcement of our marriage. How did you come to hear of it so soon?”

“I have ears everywhere, Caversham.” The Prince snapped. “Did you know that Skeffington’s daughter is my god-daughter?”

“She mentioned it, yes.”

“I understand you have wronged her,” the regent stated.

“You have been misinformed Your Majesty. I did no such thing. The lady chose to end her relationship with me, and enter into one with Lord Whitby before any betrothal contracts were signed.”

Lia wanted to jump in and defend her husband, but knew this was not something that was done in polite society. So she bit her tongue and continued to listen intently to their conversation.

“Caversham, you led everyone to believe you were going to offer for the girl.” When her husband didn’t reply. The Regent continued, “The chit’s father is my good friend. He swears you cried off over a misunderstanding and that you have gravely and irreparably besmirched his daughter’s honor. He’s asking for recompense, which if what he’s stated is true, he is owed.”

“There was no promise to either the father, or the daughter,” Ren stated flatly. “They’ll not get a shilling from me.”

“The man is threatening to take the matter to the courts. Surely paying them off to settle the matter quietly is preferable to the scandal it will bring down on your name.” Obviously frustrated with her husband’s immovable opinion, the prince added, “Think of your sisters’ future if not your own. Let us settle this matter, shall we?”

Her husband refused to reply. And the longer Ren took, the more irritated the older man seemed to get. Sighing deeply, the prince muttered something about her husband bringing judgment down upon himself. “Ten thousand pounds,” he stated, “to the father alone.” His tone was that of a man who would take no argument.

Lia choked off a gasp, as her husband whispered in amazement, “What?”

“You heard me correctly, Caversham. Ten thousand pounds for the breach of promise to the father. Do that,” continued the regent, “and I will turn a blind eye to your irregular marriage.”

“Majesty,” Lia interjected, “there is nothing irregular about our marriage. I assure you that we were wed by a priest, in front of witnesses. We have the marriage license and approval of my only relative, my brother.”

“You are Catholic, are you not?” he asked her.

She looked at her husband for some sign as to how he wished her to answer. At his nod, she replied, “Yes, Majesty, I am.”

“Then I can declare your marriage invalid for that reason alone. I could also declare your marriage invalid because your husband did not seek my consent before wedding you.”

Tears welled in Lia’s eyes, but she didn’t allow them to fall. “I will not beg you, Majesty, to leave my marriage intact,” Lia stated flatly. “Just know that I will remain with my husband for as long as he wishes. Legally or otherwise.”

“It is very likely my wife carries my heir as we speak,” he stated. “To invalidate our marriage would force me to marry my wife again, or legitimize my son after his birth.”

“I have no doubt you would do just that. See that the fine I imposed is paid to the girl’s father within the week, or I will allow him to proceed with a legal suit against you.”

Ren nodded to his Prince. “I shall have my attorneys contact his, for a resolution.”

The Prince turned away, seemingly satisfied, and began walking to the door. He stopped and looked back at Lia with a tender smile. “Would that all women were as loyal to their husbands as you.” The Regent turned to her husband and smiled. “Dinner should be a marvelous affair. Come, let’s proceed toward the dining room, shall we?”

Ren took her arm and they followed the regent back down the corridor to the entryway, and on to a drawing room, while they awaited entry into the dining hall. Upon entering the room, her husband’s gaze went toward a man standing with a group of other men. She and Ren began walking in their direction. The stranger excused himself from the group and came toward them.

Tall and handsome, he too wore all black except for his snowy-white shirt and cravat. He also wore trousers, just like her husband. He had thick brown waves, combed back away from his face and soft hazel eyes that told Lia he was now her friend too. She knew she was right when the other man smiled at her husband. This friend of her husband appeared genuine, his mood happy, not forced.

“Michael. I’m glad you’re here,” Ren said. Lia noticed he wore his brown hair longer than fashion dictated, as did her husband. He kissed the back of Lia’s hand, and bowed low.

“Meet my bride, Michael.” Ren turned to her, and with a broad smile said, “Sweetheart, I’d like for you to meet my very good friend, The Right Honorable Lord Brightman.” He turned to his friend, saying “Michael, it is my honor to introduced you to Her Grace, Angelia Serena, The Duchess of Caversham.” Pride was evident in his voice. He turned to her and said, “This is Michael, of whom I’ve spoken to you many times. He’s been my friend since school, and is now a partner in some investments as well as my legal advisor.”

“That just means I know all his secrets,” Michael said, before he kissed her hand. “And, the pleasure is all mine, Your Grace.” He turned back to Ren. “What ever did she see in you that she agreed to be your bride?”

“My charm and my good looks,” Ren replied quickly. “You know, the things you have none of.” The two men laughed.

“What kept you? I thought you’d have been here before me,” Michael asked.

“We have been in a meeting with the regent for the past fifteen minutes,” her husband replied. “My wife has the regent smitten.”

“He threatens my marriage and you say he’s smitten?” Lia shook her head. “What would he say if he didn’t find favor with me, Your Grace?”

“Since that would never happen, darling,” her husband said, “we shall never know.”

Just then they were called into the dining room and Ren held out an arm to lead her in the procession. Michael walked alongside Ren, asking him something Lia couldn’t hear. She saw her husband shake his head in the negative. “We can talk about it later,” Ren said.

This room, as all the others she’d seen in Carlton House, was magnificently decorated. The room boasted red velvet curtains which framed the windows and a generous amount of gold trim on the ceiling and walls. One end of the room had a wall inlaid with mirrors, giving the impression of the room being that much larger. The dining table alone had to be fifty feet long, with some sixty or more place settings completely around it. Eight chandeliers hung overhead, four on each side of the room. Extra lighting was provided by the three candelabras in the center of the wide dining table. At least twenty liveried footman stood along the wall waiting for orders to begin serving, as platter after platter continued to arrive into the room.

Once they’d found their seats, Lia leaned over to her husband and whispered, “I’ve never seen anything such as this in all my life!”

“Relax darling, and enjoy the evening. After dinner we will stay a short while, then make our excuses. I would like to get an early start for home in the morning.”

Lia nodded, as a platter-bearing footman, set an appetizer before her. Little did she know that it was the first of several tiny appetizers, and by the time the last little dish was taken from her setting, she was full.

And still the food came. Footmen served course after course of their dinner next, some of the most delicate, beautifully prepared foods she’d ever seen, most of it drenched in a heavy cream sauce of some sort. For some reason this night, her stomach couldn’t hold much, and after only two or three bites of each, Lia pushed her plate away, crossing her flatware on her dish, signaling she was done with that course.

This went on for over an hour. After the third or fourth course, she gave up trying to taste each one presented, realizing there was no possible way she could attempt another bite. Two hours after entering the room, they were freed from the dining hall. Beautiful though it was, it had become a living hell for Lia who wanted nothing more than to seek a chamber pot, fearing the need to relieve her increasingly upset stomach.

As they walked back to the grand salon, she stumbled. Sensing something was amiss with his wife, Ren turned to her.

“Are you alright?” His voice was gentle and concerned.

“Yes, but I must seek relief,” she whispered into his ear as he leaned forward.

From nowhere a footman appeared and led Lia down a corridor to a private room. Once inside, she closed the door and made for the chamber pot, barely reaching it in time to lose everything she’d just eaten. A maid appeared, handing her a damp kerchief which she used to wipe her face.

Upon hearing a noise, she lifted her eyes to the mirror to see Lady Jersey watching her. Lia straightened her appearance, handed the maid the wet cloth, and stood, intending to return to her husband’s side.

The older woman smiled. “It’s sure to be a girl, Your Grace. I hear they give you problems from the moment of conception.”

“Oh, I doubt I could be thus blessed so soon,” Lia replied. “It’s likely the quantity of food I consumed.”

Lady Jersey smiled. “Perhaps.” She rubbed her belly and confessed, “As I’m about to present my husband his fourth child this autumn, I’m starting to feel somewhat of an authority. You see, I’ve never once been sick. With each ordeal the old midwife said it was a son. The first two times I wouldn’t believe her. All three times she was right.”

Lia wondered why this woman whom she’d just met hours earlier would intrude on something so personal and private. “Even if I were, what is a few months of discomfort,” Lia said, “when in the end you hold a tiny miracle? I was raised to believe every child is a blessing, a gift given to a man and woman who love each other.”

The other woman sat on the stool at the dressing table and stretched her feet before her. “I’m sure you are right. But everyone knows of Caversham’s urgent need for a son.”

“When that time comes, my husband and I will be thankful for a healthy child—son or daughter.” Lia turned to leave the closed confines of the retiring room. “If you’ll excuse me, my husband was hoping to leave early this evening.” She nodded to the other woman, and the maid opened the door for her.

Once in the hallway, she spied a secluded alcove and lowered herself onto the chaise inside. Lia thought for a moment. It was possible, after all they have been intimate quite frequently with the express purpose of begetting his heir. Perhaps that was why she’d been so sick lately.

Even though he told the Regent he suspected, she had to tell her husband before he heard from someone else. Since they had a day-long ride in a traveling coach tomorrow, she would take the opportunity to break the news to her husband.

Yes, she’d have to do it soon, because Lia was sure Lady Jersey would be spreading tales of her condition to any and all who would listen before the night was over.

I
n the Grand Salon an hour later, after meeting dozens of women in the highest echelon of English society, Lia laid her head on Ren’s chest, and he held her there, lightly stroking the line of buttons running up her spine. She looked up at him with her dark-fringed green eyes, and he saw fatigue written across her beautiful face.

“Let’s get you home sweetheart. We’ve stayed long enough.” Turning to Michael, he said, “Come with us? We can continue our earlier conversation in private.” Ren led Lia down the corridor to the entryway, where he called for his carriage.

“Certainly,” replied Michael. “I’ll have my carriage follow.”

Once ensconced in the deep gray velvet squabs, it was no time at all before his wife was asleep in his arms. When Ren knew she slept, he turned to Michael. “He’s ordered me to pay off Skeffington for breach of promise.”

“If you want,” Michael offered, “we can fight it. Margaret was unfaithful, if not with your cousin Thomas, then with someone. That much is true.”

“We cannot call Thomas to the stand if we cannot find him,” Ren countered. “And Margaret would lie to protect herself, so it would be Margaret’s word against mine. Were there witnesses? A midwife?”

“The old woman who attended her in Bath died several weeks later. It appeared to be natural causes.”

“How fortunate for Margaret,” Ren muttered.

“All we would have is a second-hand accounting of the now-deceased mid-wife consulting with your own physician when Margaret was delirious with fever afterward.”

“Prescott is an honorable man. I would trust his word.”

Michael nodded. “So how much did the rigged-out peacock fleece you for?”

“Ten thousand pounds. To the father. Payable within the week.”

Michael let out a soft whistle. “Good God. Not an insignificant amount, is it?”

“I’m actually considering paying it,” Ren said.

“So there would be no court case?” When Ren nodded, Michael continued, “Not a bad idea, especially when you consider the effect of a scandal on the girls. But realize, this does not take care of your problem with Thomas.”

Ren cuddled Lia closer, enjoying her warm softness, as their coach wove its way through early morning London traffic.