On a Long Ago Night (31 page)

people he'd joyfully invited to witness his wedding and now wished

were gone, as he turned toward them and forced himself to smile.

He knew his delight would not seem forced; he'd been taught to be

an accomplished actor by Ibrahim Rais. And Honoria was an

excellent actress after a life spent in public. Out of the corner of his

eye he saw her force a smile, and give a regal nod toward her

father.

His family and hers stood, and applauded. He couldn't help

but notice the jaded smirks on some faces. The sight was enough to

make him hope, just a little, that perhaps Honoria needed him a

little after all. Though how he could protect her from the

sophisticated cruelty of courtiers, he didn't know.

He took Honoria's arm and led her forward.

Her maid followed after, still holding the armful of yellow

and white roses, their heavy, sweet scent perfuming the air.

Reverend Menzies brought up the rear. A trio of people came from

opposite sides of the room to meet them in the middle.

The kiss had left Honoria reeling, and very nearly senseless.

She was mortified at having forgotten herself so completely, so

quickly, and in front of everyone. James Marbury was a danger to

her, and she wanted nothing more than to escape his wicked

presence.

Then she remembered: she was his wife.

How the devil had she allowed this to happen? She glanced

back over her shoulder at the minister, half tempted to demand he

do something. But what? What could she do? Thinking was hard

with the sweet residue of James's kiss still buzzing through her

veins, but she did her best.

A wedding wasn't legal just because of a few words, was it?

Maybe in the eyes of God, but surely the State required more,

especially from a peer of the realm. Weren't there papers that

needed to be signed by the bride and groom and witnesses? There

must be some sort of marriage contract, with solicitors from both

families involved, that had to be hammered out. This was not the

joining of a pair of peasants, but the matrimonial arrangements of

two old, titled, landed, established, wealthy families.

Did the Queen know about this? Was her permission needed

for a ducal heir, someone who was in the line of succession for the

throne of England, to wed? Honoria certainly hoped so.

Surely there had to be some legal recourse for her to escape a

second bondage to the man who had once bought her as a slave,

and now enslaved her as his wife.

Menzies looked back at her with a venomous glare. She

found something disconcertingly familiar and frightening in that

look, and quickly turned her attention to her father, Viscount

Brislay, and the tall, statuesque woman on his arm. Yet still, she

seemed to sense the minister's gaze stabbing her in the back.

She blamed James for her sudden flight of fancy. Why not?

He was responsible for everything else; he might as well take the

blame for any insane responses that invaded her normally logical

thought processes.

"You're looking daggers at my mother," he whispered, his

lips suddenly very close to her ear. The proximity, and the warning

in his soft voice, sent a shiver that had nothing to do with fear

through her.

Honoria turned her dagger glare on him. Before she could say

anything, Viscount Brislay stepped between her and—her husband.

She gritted her teeth at the thought, even as James's father

bestowed a light kiss on her cheek. "Welcome to my family, my

dear." His voice was calm, his gaze assessing, yet there was

something warm and welcoming about the man despite his outward

reserve. It was easy to believe that he did welcome her, and that he

truly cherished her as a member of his family.

But she would not let herself think that her father-in-law

wanted the marriage for any altruistic purpose. She knew to the

farthing just how much her dowry, and her future title, were worth.

This man had to be scheming with his alleged son for some greedy

purpose. Still—

"Lady Graciela Almeda y Gonzaga Marbury, Viscountess

Brislay," Viscount Brislay introduced his wife.

"
Mamacita
," James added proudly.

The affection and pride in James's voice tugged at Honoria's

jaded heart. She turned to Lady Graciela and realized to her dismay

that the woman was nearly as tall as she was, and as amply

proportioned.

"Good Lord!" she murmured, before she could stop herself.

The older woman had graying dark hair, a high-arched nose, and a

warmly tinted complexion. Her mouth was rich and full, the same

sensual shape as her son's, her eyes were so dark they were nearly

black. They did not look at Honoria with any warmth. Her gaze

pierced like a dagger made of ice.

"You will make my son happy," she said in aristocratic

Spanish. It was not a question, a wish or a request.

So, this was what it was like to have a mother-in-law.

Honoria was tempted to gulp, curtsy, and back slowly away from

this stern female who looked her over with such a gimlet eye. Lady

Graciela Marbury was yet another reason for obtaining an

annulment as swiftly as possible.

Her father drew her away from James and into a fierce

embrace. "My dear, dear child," he whispered, his voice choked

with emotion. "Be happy. All I've ever wanted was for you to be

happy."

She did not doubt that he meant it. But she had stopped

expecting happiness so long ago that she no longer knew what the

word meant. All she wanted was peace and respectability. She had

married the last man who could provide her with either, and it was

what her father wanted! Still, she managed a smile for him, and

wiped away a tear at the corner of his eye. She gestured around the

music room.

"How did you arrange all this?" she asked, to distract them

both. "When?"

"Oh, not I," he answered. "Your cousin Kate began hatching

this plot the day after the dinner party. I've only worked on the

details of the marriage contract. There's still a slight difficulty

about Marbury becoming a Pyne, but I think we'll agree on a

hyphenated version and on heirs' names soon enough. Cousin Kate

assures me that arranging the wedding supper and the guest list on

such short notice was far more complex than marriage settlements."

He was so ridiculously pleased with all they'd been up to. "I

see." Honoria threw a furious glance at her husband, who was

speaking to his mother. Honoria felt the crowd closing in around

her, and knew that they were all laughing at her behind their bland

well-wishers' expressions. "My fate has been known to everyone

but me for some days now. How charming."

Her tone must have held some of the temper she was trying to

conceal. Her father moved quickly to place her arm on James's.

James turned his attention from his mother to the duke.

"Your lady wife," her father said formally. "I commend her to

your tender care, sir. Make sure she is happy."

Honoria took pleasure in hearing her father sound as serious

as Lady Graciela in his admonition to James. James, however, took

the duke's words with a charming smile, and patted Honoria's hand

on his arm. "I will do everything in my power to do so, sir," James

responded, beaming at the duke, sounding for all the world like he

meant it.

What do you want with me
? Honoria thought with desperate

anger.
Why are you doing this? More important, how do I escape
?

She refused to let herself feel trapped, despite the crowd and the

weight of having taken vows before God and man alike.

"There's supper laid out, I believe," her father-in-law said.

"Let us seal this celebration with a few joyous toasts."

Her father clapped a hand on the minister's shoulder. "Join us,

Reverend, and accept our thanks for a job well done."

Reverend Menzies rubbed a thumb along his jaw. "Thank

you, Your Grace," he said with a slow nod and a toothy smile. "I

believe I will."

Now, this
, Joshua Menzies thought, as he found himself

among the great of the land,
is a truly interesting situation
.

There were almost more servants than guests in the dining

room. Dressed in silver and blue livery, footmen carried silver trays

laden with fine crystal wineglasses, constantly replenishing the

supply for the numerous toasts wishing the couple well. Menzies

was happy to accept every glass that came his way. It took a great

deal for him to get drunk, but he intended to try to reach that

longed-for condition this evening. He'd been far too sober lately,

while searching for the girl from the
Manticore
. Well, he'd found

her. He threw back his head and laughed, despite his sour anger.

His life had taken quite a turn since he'd received his

imprisoned father's letter. He'd dutifully gone on a quest looking

for a well-educated merchant's daughter, and found one of the

greatest ladies of the land instead. Then, poof, before he could

make any progress toward his goal, he'd found himself officiating

at the great lady's wedding. To a man with a Spanish accent and a

knowledge of Arabic. How very very curious.

He sipped another glass of the finest wine he'd ever been

privileged to taste, and breathed in the scent of obscene wealth

along with the bouquet of the dark liquid in the crystal glass. Both

were aromas he liked very well indeed. Covetousness burned in

him like a fever.

He knew that he would have all that Lady Alexandra and the

Honorable James Marbury possessed. Somehow, in some way, he

would take from them the fortune his father had spent years risking

life and limb for—with interest. And if this Marbury should prove

to be somehow connected with the Spaniard in his father's letter—

well, he'd take revenge, as well.

Menzies did his best to remain inconspicuous amid the well-

dressed guests, lest he be shown to the servants' dining hall rather

than be allowed to stay in the room with his betters. He sneered as

he stood across the opulent dining room and looked at the bride and

groom, she in silver, he in tight buff trousers and a dark, finely

tailored jacket. Oh, they made an admirably matched couple, the

spark of sexual attraction strong between them. She scarcely looked

Marbury's way, but there was no doubt that there was a deep, dark

attraction pulling her toward the husband her father had arranged

for her.

He sensed that she had a deep undertone of barely restrained

passion, rather than the boring nervousness of a blushing and

virginal bride. She was too striking and vivid to be considered a

beauty by insipid fashionable standards, but when he looked at her,

Menzies saw a woman made to stoke and satisfy a man's lust. Not

pretty, but beddable, and that was better. His groin tightened at the

sight of her full breasts and the way the proud set of her head

showed off the length of her throat. His hands ached to weigh those

fine soft tits in his hands.

Marbury stood too close to his wife for propriety's sake; the

look he turned on her was too openly lustful. Here was a man who

knew what he had, and was eager to take the woman to his bed. Not

for the first time; the vicar had no doubt of that. Marbury had

sampled the merchandise before accepting it, for certain. Did the

heiress's father know that, and was there any way he could use it

against the woman who held the secret to his own father's fortune?

A long buffet table was set up nearby, laden with more food

just for this small gathering than he was used to seeing in a year.

Menzies intended to leave here as full as he was drunk.

As he determinedly approached the table once more, there

was a stirring in the dining room doorway. He couldn't help but

turn and look, along with everyone else in the room, to see a tall

blond man in a Naval uniform push past a pair of footmen and

stride arrogantly toward the bride and groom.
What's this
? Menzies

wondered, drawing closer as the crowd parted to let the officer

through. There was an avid interest on many faces that told him

that they expected quite a good show.

The actors in this little drama didn't disappoint them.