Bride Enchanted (10 page)

“Best way to see the master,” the second female said, giggling. “Ain't he something for sore eyes? I seen him from afar, but up close? Lord!”

“My Gran says he's the spit of his Da, and his Da were the spit of his, and he, of his, so far back as anyone can remember. They're like as peas, except for their hair, her Gran told her, she says,”
another put in. “The old folks say there be something weird about 'em, that's the truth.”

“Weird about being so wicked handsome? Lord, I could wish all the men hereabouts were weird then!”

“And the ladies of the manor, they was all grand ladies of wealth and title, so I heard. This new little one be nothing like that.”

“Yeah, but the others they was all sickly, wasn't they? Not one child never born in this place, 'cause the ladies had to go abroad to have them. And then, they never returned.”

“How's that? You've rats in your noggin. Why, there's the master of the house, I seen him just this morning.”

“Clunch! I meant the ladies of the house never return.”

“Good thing then, I say, that this one is not so grand.”

“I beg your pardon!” said an annoyed voice that Eve recognized. It was one of the servant girls who had come with her from London.

“Didn't mean nothing by it,” the first speaker said. “She's a lovely bride, all like her right well. It's just that Gran said…” Eve had to move closer to hear the low whisper, “…that Far Isle itself were weird. In the olden times, I means. What
with the Old Folk of the forest and such living here since forever.”

“And such?” asked the maid from London. “What ‘and such' do you mean?”

“Fairies and the like.”

“What?” The London maid laughed. “Little folk dancing on pansy petals, you mean, and you're afraid? Get away with you.”

“It's more serious, it's pure evil, and they ain't little at all. And although I don't like to be the one to tell you,” the other woman said in tones that clearly gave the lie to what she said, “but you being from Lunnon and all, you likely don't know. My Gran says that there was all sort of mischief and wickedness done in this place and on this here very spot afore the house was ever built. Strange magic,” she said with evident pleasure, “wickedness in the night, and all.”

“Ha!” said the London maid. “Pull the other one. There ain't nothing worse than what's on the streets of London by night. It would turn your hair white if you seen what we have out in the night in the streets of London Town!”

This caused much laughter.

“Done with your chores, are you?” the housekeeper's voice said clearly and coldly. The room fell still as she went on. “I see. The epergne polished enough to see your face in? The forks and knives
clear as crystal? All the candlesticks free of wax and gleaming? Why no, that isn't so. You'd best get on with it instead of having a party, because no matter how lenient the master and the mistress of this house, I do not pay for services not rendered.”

They got back to work, silently, as Eve ducked back up to the stair. She took the last step down slowly, looking thoughtful as she did.

“Now what can the matter be?” Aubrey asked her as she entered the breakfast parlor and he rose to greet her.

“Ah, she's always a bear in the morning,” Sherry said. “Give you good morning, Eve. I see the country life has you rising before noon.”

She made a face at him. “I never did like to sleep that late, and you know it. Good morning all. Today, I have to be sure everyone we wanted to have come here is here. So if you have anyone you want to our Halloween Ball it's now or never. Let me know, please.”

“I sent my invitations,” Aubrey said. “They'll be here soon enough. Pitiful few there are too. I hope your list is longer.”

She beamed at him. “We have twelve guests here now, and there's room for many more, so I'll invite them. It's not too late. The only problem was thinking of whom not to ask. I want everyone here, so that they can envy me.”

“Then I have to put a sprig of ash over the door,” Aubrey said. “To ward off jealousy and evil intentions.”

“You don't believe in superstition, do you?” she asked.

“No,” he laughed. “Knock on wood.”

At luncheon, the company was told about more guests arriving. They were delighted, especially since they'd be at the house when the others arrived, and so would socially score one over the rest of the party. They passed the day riding, playing cards, and walking. In the evening they danced, and sang. At last, the company got to bed, and in some cases, into each other's beds. Even though the guests were known for living London hours, the outdoor life they'd led made them all seek their beds, or someone else's, much earlier than was their habit in Town. All seemed quiet and content in the Hall when the old case clock in the green salon chimed the eleventh hour.

Eve stirred in Aubrey's arms.

“When?” she asked sleepily, tracing the curve of his naked back with one finger, “Whenever shall I get used to this ecstasy?”

“Never,” he said, burying his face in her neck.

She chuckled. Then she spoke again. “Aubrey?” she asked lightly, so lightly that he listened closer. “I heard…well, I overheard some gossip. Is it
true that your mother was a great lady, and very beautiful?”

“It is,” he said.

“And your grandmother too? And her mother as well?”

He propped himself up on one elbow. “Just who were you overhearing?”

“Never mind,” she said. “Is that true?”

“It is. Or so I hear. Why do you ask?”

“And that they all grew sickly, and so had to go abroad to have their babies? And,” she added in a rush, “that none survived to come back to England?

He was still. He lay back on his pillow. “True,” he finally said. “Are you afraid you'll get sick if you stay with me, and conceive a babe with me?”

“No,” she said. “Well, maybe not. I don't know.”

“No,” he said, turning, and holding her close. “I promise you, no. You'll stay well, and if you wish we'll stay here until you're very old. Or, if you want, I can take you to see the Continent too. We don't have to repeat history. We won't. And you're nothing like the others.”

“So I heard,” she said sadly. “They were all grand titled ladies.”

“You are my lady,” he said. “You and I were meant for each other. I know it. I feel it in my heart. Don't you?”

“I do,” she said, as she had when they'd wed.

He kissed her to reassure her, and then he kissed her because she clung to him, and then he kissed her because he was impelled to. They made love slowly, quietly, as they were each trying to convince the other of their honesty and desire.

When she arched and cried her completion, he allowed himself to join her, and they clung even closer until their throbbing bodies calmed.

In moments, she was asleep in his arms.

He was falling asleep when his eyes suddenly opened wide, and he shivered. He looked at her to be sure she was sleeping. He passed a hand over her closed eyes to ensure it, and then rose from bed. He pulled on a dressing gown, and left the room.

Aubrey quickly made his way downstairs and paced through the darkened Hall until he came to a back door. He went out and walked through a copse of trees that flanked the great house, until he came to a clearing. Then he shrugged out of his dressing gown and stood alone under the moon, and raised his arms, until he looked like a pale luminous pillar reaching to the sky. He stood, waiting.

He threw back his head, filled with exultation. He'd known it! He'd felt it. It was true, at long last. He'd conceived a child! A son.

He whispered a silent incantation of thanks, and opened his eyes. They gleamed silvery as the sickle moon above him. It was done. Soon, he could live his own life again, free of the compulsion that had carried him this far. There was no one he could share this with, and the furious joy he felt was almost too big to contain. There had never been anyone to share with. He'd never cared before. Now he did. But that was likely because there soon would be someone.

He picked up his dressing gown, put it on, and hurried back to his bedchamber.

Eve was still sleeping soundly, of course. He curled up in the bed behind her, his hand on the gently rounded abdomen that contained such riches. His own heart was still beating wildly. A sudden realization sliced through his jubilation. He pressed his lips to her hair. In that moment, he loved her as never before. And the best part, and the worst part, was that he realized he'd come to really care for her.

T
he night of the ball finally came, and when it did, when Eve first saw her husband in his costume, in their bedchamber, he took her breath away again. Would she never get used to it? She lived with the man, she slept with him, saw him morning and night, and still she experienced this feeling of utter wonder when she beheld him. But tonight, he was something to behold.

Aubrey was dressed as king of Far Isle Hall. His costume subtly referenced the mystical history of the place. His costume might have been out of the Renaissance, but it was too ethereal even for that colorful time. He looked entirely royal, impossibly handsome, and magnificently unearthly.

He wore a closely fitted long silver tunic over green tights. The tunic showed the breadth of his shoulders, and the tights, his strong legs. A silvery cape was flung carelessly over one shoulder, and he wore green slippers. A silver crown sat atop his
black hair. That was all, and that was almost too much. Although his costume was outrageously foppish, even for the Renaissance period, he was entirely masculine, and beautiful, of course.

He made Eve feel lust, and pride, and excitement, all as usual, she thought with the usual astonishment she felt when she really looked at him. But tonight, in fantasy, he had become what she always saw him as in her imagination: too exotic, too splendid, too wondrous to be true.

Then she looked down at herself. She wore a diaphanous green gown, and silver slippers. A silver crown and small white flowers had been woven into her curls. Simplicity suited her. She might not compare to Aubrey, but she felt she didn't shame him. She glowed too, and the simple elegant clothing showed off her lithe form and graceful step as nothing she'd ever worn before.

Aubrey had selected their costumes, and she pleased him, so she held her head high.

“The king and queen of Far Isle Hall,” Aubrey said with satisfaction, as they stood and gazed into the glass in their bedchamber. He offered her his arm. “Shall we go and await our guests, my queen?”

She nodded, took his arm, and feeling oddly light, and strangely reassured, she followed him down the stairs into the main hall.

To make the fantasy of All Hallow's night complete, the hall was hung with rowan, willow, and wildflowers picked from nearby meadows. Late roses and asters, plumy weeds and scented herbs, gourds and red haws, nuts and blackberries were strewn, artfully but seemingly artlessly, on tabletops and mantelpieces. Ropes of leaves were strung through the stair rails, and overhead hung gilded apples and silvered pears. Everywhere too, there were vases of silver overflowing with trailing vines and wildflowers.

The punch bowls were filled with blood red wine and hot crabapples steaming and hissing. Fires were lit in every hearth, strewn with herbs and boughs of fresh fir to make the house redolent, the scent wild and refreshing. Lamps and candles were lit and strategically placed, so it was not too bright, but all could be seen. Here and there a long window was left ajar so that the draperies and candle flames stirred with the breezes, as though spiritual guests were streaming in.

Eve looked around as she descended the stairs, as amazed as she was delighted with her first real duty as hostess. The last conceit they'd thought of was to make the houseguests leave the house through the back door and come in again through the main door, so that they'd appear like visions let in from the magical night. And a spectacular
night they had for it too: cool and clear, the sky hung with stars and a bone white moon.

Sherry was the only guest who awaited them in the hall, because he was the only family member there. Eve covered her mouth with her hand when she saw him.

Aubrey took a reeling step back, as though he'd been dealt a mortal blow, and hung there, looking astonished and theatrically pale, one hand against his heart. His shock was so convincing that for an instant Eve couldn't tell if he were genuinely ill or just pretending. She only relaxed when she saw him stand up straight again.

Sheridan bowed. With difficulty. He creaked, because he was dressed in a suit of armor. “I thought this would be great fun,” Sherry said, somewhat hollowly.

“It's a good way to stay away from Lucinda's sister,” Eve said, also with difficulty, because she was trying not to howl with laughter.

“Yes,” Aubrey said, still pale and coming no closer to Sheridan. “All that iron does make it impossible to cuddle. But it is a wonderful way to stay away from all other females too. Where did you find that…machine you're wearing? Not in the attics here, certainly.”

A groan came from the helmet of the suit. “No. I rented it from a shop in London. It seemed like a
good idea at the time. You don't have to pretend to be so horrified, Aubrey. I hate it too. Can you wait until I get upstairs and change before you let the guests in? I want to be on the reception line with you, meeting everyone firsthand and all.”

“You've met most of the guests staying here, or know them from London,” his sister said. “But we do have some guests coming from the village too.”

“Do we?” Aubrey asked.

“Of course,” Eve said smugly. “I got the names from Mrs. Hood. We've the vicar coming, Squire Thompson and his family, Mrs. Culpepper and her three daughters, and some others. All the girls are charming and lovely, by the way, Sherry, or so Mrs. Hood says. Their families have been here for years. I've asked other local gentry I can't remember right now. It would be rude not to have them, Aubrey, don't you think?”

“I think it was rude for them not to ask us to their homes first,” Aubrey said. “But I know little about modern manners. I suppose it's time I got to know.”

“Please wait for me,” Sherry pleaded. “I have a Robin Hood sort of get-up in my room too. My valet suggested it if I grew weary of this…walking mausoleum. Gads! How did they fight in these things?”

“Carefully,” Aubrey said. He waved a hand and drew further back from Sheridan, as though he smelled like a tin of old fish. “Go. We'll wait. Hurry, if you can.”

The suit of armor clanked stiffly to the stair. Sheridan's valet was already standing there, waiting to help his master decant himself.

Eve giggled. “You didn't have to act
so
appalled, Aubrey, although it was funny. He couldn't stand it himself.”

Aubrey smiled, wanly. “I was just trying to save his life.”

She looked at him oddly.

“He would have suffocated in there,” Aubrey said. “Or starved.”

Sheridan rushed downstairs a few moments later, resplendent in scarlet and green, a Robin Hood from the jaunty feather atop his cocked slouchy hat to the tips of his pointed shoes. He took his place next to his sister and her husband. The ballroom stood ready; the musicians hired for the evening sat behind bowers of ferns and flowers and tuned their instruments.

It was a cool night, not a cold one, but the guests could be heard complaining about the chill as they lined up outside, at the front door.

“They only walked from the back of the house,” Eve said.

“They're hothouse flowers,” Aubrey said. He signaled to the two footmen by the front door. “Allow our guests entry,” he said, and stood waiting.

They rushed in like autumn leaves blown by a gale, a colorful crowd of Halloween party-goers, eager to greet their host, ogle his new bride, marvel again at the wonders of Far Isle Hall, and show off their costumes. They were such a colorful collection that it took Eve a few minutes to sort them out in her mind, much less recognize them. Unlike the masquerades she'd been to in London, this crowd of guests seemed to stay with a certain rustic theme. There were fewer diamonds and jewels and more feathers and fur to be seen this night. It seemed that the history of the place had influenced some of them too.

There were milkmaids and goose girls, serving wenches and princesses, all of whom wore costumes that showed tantalizing glimpses of ankles and more than glimpses of bosoms. Gentlemen dressed as princes, looking to waken sleeping princesses or ready to discover princesses in disguise as goose girls, were there in plenty. Sherry wasn't the only Robin Hood, by far. He and his merry men were well represented this night. There were many portly elder gentlemen dressed as good Friar Tuck, and not a few rakish middle
aged fellows preening and leering as they played at being the wicked Sheriff of Nottingham. Patient wives favored medieval costumes to match the merry band.

More basic folklore was given a bow as well, to judge from the many Morris Men and Druidical get-ups. Some guests wore amusing owl or hawk heads. Some wore fox heads and tails, others wore hound's heads and tails, and when they spied each other they pretended to chase each other into the ballroom.

As a final bow to the spirit of the night, the butler announced them as what they were dressed as tonight, rather than their true names, which led to more merriment. There was laughter and barking, baying and giggling as the crowd went one by one to meet their hosts and ogle the Hall.

“Now this,” Sherry said with enthusiasm as the last guests were introduced, “is going to be some party!”

And so it was, or at least the best one Eve had ever attended.

“I'm not used to being the center of attention,” she confided to Aubrey at one point. “If this was an ordinary ball, I don't think I could stand all the scrutiny. But everyone is so keen on staring at each other to see who's wearing what, that I don't feel uncomfortable at all.”

“You don't see how many are admiring you because you don't expect to,” Aubrey said.

She shook her head. She wasn't an ingénue or a fool. She knew to the last decimal how many balls she'd attended before she'd met him. She'd been popular, in a quiet sort of way. She was well liked, but she'd never been a sensation. He was the one who had made her fashionable. She'd never forget the night they'd met. He'd stunned her by his presence. Now she realized that the fact that he'd singled her out had not only stunned her, but the fashionable world even more.

Now, as host and hostess, they began the ball by dancing a waltz together.

“This is a grand success, isn't it?” she whispered to Aubrey.

“Grand,” he said, smiling.

“The food at dinner should be good, the ballroom isn't too warm, the guests are enjoying themselves,” she said. “And just look at Sherry, will you? He did the right thing and is dancing with Grace. Good for him.”

“I imagine he knows there are a bevy of other young girls waiting to be singled out by him next,” Aubrey commented with a chuckle.

“Oh, good!” she said again, and danced, and laughed, and thought there was no woman in all England luckier than she. She had a loving hus
band, who just happened to be the most handsome man in the world. She had a beautiful home, and her dreams of a blissful future were becoming daily more than just dreams now. They danced, he held her tenderly, and gave her up with a comical show of resentment when she had to go to new partners in the country dances. She couldn't be happier.

As host and hostess, they danced with their guests too, and it was with relief that she came into Aubrey's arms again for another waltz just before dinner.

“Isn't this wonderful?” she asked him again.

He smiled down at her, all his pleasure in his eyes, along with all sorts of promises of future pleasure.

And despite all her experience, she blushed. “Look at Sherry,” she said, to change the mood, because it would be hours before she could be in his arms in their bed together tonight. “He's the belle of the ball. He's danced with every wall-flower, every unknown, and every diamond too. He's behaving just as he ought. And now look at him.
Oh my!”

She stared at her brother as he waltzed by with a beauty in his arms. The woman was so exquisite that Eve almost lost her step in the dance. She didn't have to worry. She kept to the right steps.
Aubrey was the one who didn't. He stopped and stared.

Eve saw her husband's dark eyes grow darker with rage. His fair complexion grew white. He dropped his hands from her and knotted his fists at his side. “How
dare
she?” he whispered fiercely, but it seemed to Eve that he spoke to himself.

“Who? What is it?” she asked, confused.

He didn't answer her. He took her back, and continued dancing, but though she was in his arms, he might have been miles away. He didn't stop looking at the exquisite woman Sheridan danced with.

Sherry stared at his partner, also transfixed, but he was obviously rapturous. And with cause, Eve thought. The woman wore a green gown with a gauzy silver overskirt that floated as she danced. She had long flowing golden hair tied up with flowers and then left to cascade to her creamy shoulders. Her eyebrows were thin dark gold arcs over her small black eye mask, her nose small and straight. Her lips, red as autumn leaves, showed off the perfection of a camellia-petal complexion. She was all grace, and her curved yet slender figure was all that was alluring. And when she laughed, which she did often, it sounded like lovely bells chiming in the wind. In fact, Eve thought in alarm, the woman looked like Aubrey's perfect consort:
dark and light, grace matched with grace, and beauty triumphant. They had the same instant appeal. It was as though she should be the mistress of the Hall.

“Who is she?” Eve asked, watching her.

Aubrey said nothing; he only kept staring, now expressionless, at the woman in Sherry's arms.

Eve grew cold. Could this beautiful creature be an old love of his? Or was she someone he still wished were his lover? Had he lost her, or was he finding her tonight? Eve couldn't wait for the music to stop so she could know. And yet she never wanted the music to stop, because she suddenly didn't want to know the truth. Her dream had been too delicious, she had celebrated it too much; this was, she thought, the end of vanity, and such impossible rosy dreams as she'd been having.

The music finally ceased and the musicians rested. Servants rolled the doors to the dining salon open. Long tables covered with steaming dishes filled with savory treats could be seen. A buffet dinner was being served.