The Duke of Morewether’s Secret (17 page)

“I can scarcely believe it either.” Thea laced her arm with her friend’s, and they strode with the rest of the happy crowd towards the conservatory where a long table had been set up for the wedding breakfast.

“I believe you’ll make him a better man,” Anna said with finality.

“That remains to be seen.” Thea cast him a teasing glance over her shoulder.

“She’s already made me a better man,” Christian announced to any who would listen.

“Hear, hear,” came several masculine voices from behind.

They gathered amongst the plants and blooming flowers while Christian regaled them with the plans for their honeymoon. “We’ll leave tomorrow morning. A month-long trip in a luxury cabin aboard the
Persephone
.”

Thea clasped Christian’s hand. “I can’t wait to show him sunshine and sweet-smelling ocean. I do love London, but you must admit one does develop a longing for sunshine living here. England seems a bit stingy with the sun.”

“I don’t recommend smelling the Thames, either.” Dalton agreed with a turned up nose. “Bloody awful, that is.”

“Greece smells … I can’t describe it. Warm. Sweet. The olive groves and fig trees.” Christian adored the faraway look his wife took on when Thea talked of her home.

He pulled her closer and wrapped an arm around her waist. “That and we need to collect her youngest brothers for school.”

That brought her right out of her reverie. “What?”

A kiss on the nose brought her that much closer to him. “Indeed. That’s where we had gone off to. The older brother is expected at the start of the school term.”

“But —”

He kissed her nose again. “That’s what happens when you marry a man of influence, wife of mine.”

Francesca’s tone was wry. “Christian loves nothing more than tossing his Duke-ness about.”

“But what about the church?” Even with her mouth gaping open, she was a thing of beauty.

Christian shrugged his shoulders. “It’s all taken care of. There are many fine schools besides Eton, darling.”

“What if we can’t get back in time? September is just around the corner. Oh there’s so much to do. They’ll need new clothes and —”

Christian covered her mouth with his to silence her worries. Once again, if it hadn’t been for a bit of attention-getting coughing he would have completely forgotten they weren’t alone.

“I love you,” she whispered against his lips when they came apart.

“I love you, too.”

Tears filled her eyes. “Thank you so much for knowing how important my family is to me.”

With a swipe of his thumb he wiped her tears before they fell from her cheeks. “Your family means as much to me as my own; nothing is more important than family.”

The table was laden with a bountiful array of food. His mother had outdone herself. Their plates were filled, and the conversation was jubilant. In fact, he didn’t notice the commotion for several seconds. When his butler rushed through the door, breathless and perturbed, whatever was happening on the other side couldn’t be ignored.

“I’m so sorry, Your Grace.” The butler bowed low. “There are people here to see you. I informed them it was quite impossible as you were not receiving today, but they simply won’t leave.”

His initial impulse was invite whomever it was into the reception as he was feeling especially benevolent just then, but the look on his man’s face gave him pause. “I’ll be with them shortly.”

“I left them in your study.” The door behind the butler burst open. Riley whipped around, making a valiant effort to catch it before it opened all the way. There was a bit of a scuffle, and the lords and ladies in the conservatory stood from their chairs and craned their necks to see what was happening. “Madam, I told you to wait outside.”

Chapter Sixteen

Madam.

Madam?

Thea ignored the hand that reached for hers. “Riley, let the woman in.”

The look the butler gave her husband was imploring.

Christian’s face was inscrutably blank when he spoke to her. “I haven’t the vaguest idea who’s out there or what they could possibly want.”

“Let the woman in,” she repeated, unmoved.

Riley moved from where he blocked the door, opened it a crack, and warned to the other side. “Behave yourself.”

“Get out of the way, butler.” The voice was distinctly feminine and disdainful. Thea hated the person attached with instant vehemence, sight unseen. She hated her even more once the woman entered the room. Tall and thin, she had ice blond hair and crystal blue eyes. She was also uncommonly beautiful. The exact opposite of her.

“What are you doing here?” Christian voice was low and menacing. Thea tore her gaze from the woman and stared at her husband. One sentence, five little words, and he’d broken her heart.

“Who is this woman?” Thea asked.

“Yes, Christian, who is this woman?” The Dowager Duchess appeared on Christian’s right.

Christian closed his eyes and shook his head.

The woman made Thea’s stomach ache. Her dress fitted her exactly like the fashion plates. Her body had none of the excess flesh Thea had to contend with. Yellow silk hung in a gorgeous column with no bumps of “healthy” Greek hips. Prominent cheekbones and ivory skin gave the other woman’s face the classic English lady look she’d envied since the minute she’d stepped off the ship from home. All the time of their strange courtship and whirlwind wedding plans, she’d never actually encountered a woman who was so obviously and blatantly her husband’s lover.

“Veronica Clarke.” The woman extended her hand to the Dowager Duchess. “Simply divine to make your acquaintance.”

In another novel experience for the day, Thea witnessed her first cut direct.

“The actress?” Christian’s mother was clearly appalled. “What is the meaning of this?” She directed her comments to the butler, deliberately ignoring Veronica’s outstretched hand.

“I tried, Your Grace.” The butler looked like he wanted to die. Thea knew exactly how he felt. “Would you like me to send for the watch?”

“Calm yourself, you silly man.” Veronica Clarke’s accent wasn’t aristocratic, Thea could tell, even with her unpracticed ear. She sounded rehearsed. “I’m not staying but a moment.”

Christian strode forward, arm extended to grab Veronica. “This is vastly inappropriate. Whatever you want to discuss can be done in my study.”

“
” Perhaps it was her tone, but all eyes went to Thea whether they understood her language or not. She turned her own gaze to her husband, as direct and steely as she could make it and still take air into her lungs. “Here is just fine, Christian. By all means, let’s all hear what she has to say.”

“Thank you, darling. Aren’t you just the …” Veronica paused and scrutinized her with condescension. “… most precious thing.”

Thea heard a gasp from behind her, then a palm slipped next to her own, squeezing in support. Anna appeared at her side.

“What do you want?” To his credit, nothing about Christian was inviting. Not his tone. Certainly not his mien.

Almost as if rehearsed, another blond head appeared in the doorway. This one belonged to a child, the very image of the actress. “Mother?” Veronica snapped her fingers, and the girl entered the room to stand next to her. In the child’s face, their matching sky-blue eyes were enormous as she peered around the room in interest.

“I have a new patron, darling.” Veronica said the endearment to Christian with practiced ease.

His jaw flinched. “I have no idea what that has to do with me.”

“He has a lack of appreciation for children underfoot.” Veronica put her hand on her child’s head. “Even for one as lovely as Lucy.”

Thea heard murmuring behind her and turned to find Harrington and Francesca in a whispered argument. Lord Dalton face spelled out how uncomfortable the entire situation was for everyone else in the room. Her mother-in-law was ghostly white. For one brief second, Thea forgot her own horror and considered whether the Dowager would swoon. Anna steadfastly gripped Thea’s hand, her face the mask of a princess warrior.

“What do you want?” Christian asked again. His fists were balled at his sides.

“We’re leaving for the Continent, isn’t that lovely?” Veronica smiled broadly, aiming her attention at Thea. She must know her broad grin only served to make her more beautiful. Thea fought back the urge to be intimidated and squared her shoulders.

Christian’s eyes narrowed and Veronica must have realized her scene was running long. “Philippe refuses to allow Lucy. Surely you understand. A ten-year-old accompanying such a trip is not — how do they say in French —
tres romantique
.”

“Speak plainly,” Christian threatened.

Thea sensed the next line was coming. Her stomach clenched in anticipation. Still, no matter how much she denied it, the words left Veronica’s lips anyway.

“There’s nowhere else for your daughter. I’m leaving her here. With you. Her father.”

Thea did hear the crash of the dowager’s swoon then. The butler leapt into action even as the room erupted in noise.

“Bloody hell.”

“What did she say?”

“Did she say —?”

“Mama!”

“The hell you are.”

Thea simply stood there. Mute. Everything she’d known about Christian Belling, the Duke of Morewether, was true. He’d somehow managed to pull the wool over her eyes, but her husband was every bit as much the wolf as her father had been. Actually, it was worse. Her husband was a lying, hypocritical bully. He refused to meet her gaze, refused to look at her to see the hurt and betrayal.

In two quick strides he had Veronica by her upper arm and was dragging her from the room. Thea watched them go with no intention of following them. Confusion ruled behind her and she ignored it, too. Instead she watched the little girl. Lucy, her mother had called her.

The child remained in the same place as if rooted. Her hands hung at her sides. She twisted slightly from side to side, a slow, idle dance that revealed her discomfort. Wide eyes took in the rumpus. Francesca and Thomas were in an argument, although Thea could not make out the words. The Duchess had been transferred to the settee, and the butler and Dalton were reviving her. Anna still clung to her hand, babbling, her words running together.

“I didn’t know. Thea, I’m so sorry. I’d never even heard a rumor. I don’t know what to do.”

Still, the girl stood there. Finally her eyes met Thea’s, and she gave a tentative, closed-lip smile.

Thea extricated her hand from Anna’s overwrought grip. “Are you all right?” she asked the child as she moved to stand in front of her.

Blonde head nodding, the girl answered with a shrug. “I’m used to it.”

Thea nodded because she didn’t know what else to do. The dowager opened her eyes, but that didn’t slow Lord Dalton’s fanning of her face. He glanced up and gave Thea a look of intense sympathy that almost brought her to tears. She swallowed hard and looked back to Lucy. “Have you ever been here before? To Lord Morewether’s house?”

“You mean my father? No. I’ve never met him before.”

How was this possible? What kind of mother deposits her child on a doorstep and leaves? She knew exactly what kind of callous man didn’t care about his children, but wasn’t a mother supposed to be different?

“I know what you’re thinking.” Lucy blinked at her. “Normally she’d have left me with Jane, but she’s got babies of her own now and there’s not enough room for me to stay with her anymore, even when I offered to help with the little ones.” Lucy shrugged again. “Mother says my father will send me to school or something. I’d like that. I’ve never been to school, but George, the manager at the theater, he taught me to read and do my sums. Mother might have sent me to stay with him, but he died last winter. Lung fever.”

“Oh.”

“Do you have any babies?”

“No. I was just married. Today actually.” Was that true? Did that really happen? Was this marriage even legal? Who could she ask about that?

“I love weddings.” Lucy gave her another smile. She looked amazingly like her mother. She would be a beautiful woman some day.

“Um hummm.” Thea was fascinated, mortified, unsettled by the girl. Like a carriage accident, her wedding had become a spectacle. Her husband had left with a former lover. Her mother-in-law had fainted. Her best friends were fighting, about what she had no idea, and it seemed everyone was afraid to look at her. Everyone except the child he’d hidden from her. Did they all expect her to crumble?

She would never give the man the satisfaction of crumbling. Not like her mother did. There would be no scene. She was a strong as the Parthenon. That bit of marble had withstood two thousand years, she could last a bit longer.

The child was still talking. “… and I said I could assist with the mending but Jane’s husband said no. He’s a nice man, and I guess I understood, but Jane still cried. I didn’t though. Mother doesn’t allow crying.”

That seemed like excellent advice based on Thea current situation.

“Do you want to have babies? I can help with those babies, do you think?”

Thea flinched at the bold question. She looked to Anna for help, but she seemed to have joined Francesca’s argument with Thomas. The Dowager was sipping from a tea cup and didn’t seem to have heard the exchange. Dalton was engaged with the butler. She wasn’t going to get any assistance.