Page 50 of Bad Luck Bride

If only he’d refused to accept it. If only he’d come home, fought for her. If only he hadn’t been so ready to believe the worst.

Devlin stirred impatiently. If only… if only… the most banal and futile phrase in the English language. He hadn’t known her situation, he hadn’t come home, and he hadn’t fought for her. Instead, he’d allowed his anger and hurt to keep him away, and now she was forced to marry a man strictly for material considerations.

Anger flooded through him, anger on her behalf, anger atRycroft, at her father, and at society. Raleigh had controlled Kay’s destiny from the moment of her birth. The malicious tongues of society had shredded her and smeared her good name for no reason other than for the entertainment of watching her downfall. And Rycroft knew, he must know, that he was in control of her. Rycroft was a ruthless bastard, but he was not stupid.

But though all that was true, none of it compared to the anger he felt at himself. It roiled within him, seething in his guts like molten lava.

Devlin’s hand closed in a fist around his pen. He could have prevented this, but he hadn’t. Bitter and broken and full of resentment, he’d done only the absolute minimum to salvage her reputation, deeming it her fiancé’s office to save her, not his. And now, as she’d pointed out, there was nothing he could do to save her. She would marry Rycroft, and like her father before him, he would tell her what she could and could not do, who she could and could not associate with. He’d tell her what to feel and what to think, and she would be unable to do anything but comply.

Marrying for a dowry is a time-honored and perfectly acceptable tradition.

That, of course, was true. In their world, a dowry was always a consideration in marriage. It was how things were done. Had Kay’s father offered him a marriage settlement, he’d have taken it without a thought, so he was hardly in a position to criticize the concept.

Her lack of choices, of alternatives, made him sick inside, and he knew that no matter what he’d known or hadn’t known, what justifications he’d had for his thoughts and actions, he was to blame for what she was now forced to do. Because of him, her ability to move in society had been curtailed, her chances of finding someone elseto marry, and the means to support her and her mother and sister had boiled down to only one choice.

All this time, he’d blamed her—for her lack of courage, her lack of faith, her weakness in turning to another man, but their conversation a week ago had forced him to put all that aside, to see past his bitterness over her actions and take a good, hard look at his own. Despite his shock and hurt, it had been far easier than it should have been for him to believe she’d thrown him over. He recognized now that his own youth had made it hard for him to have faith in anyone, even Kay, or that she could truly love him enough to stand by him. But those excuses didn’t absolve him. The blame for this began and ended with him.

A sharp sound pulled him out of his reverie, and he looked down, staring in surprise at the pen in his hand, realizing he’d snapped the pearwood handle in half.

He tossed the broken pieces aside with an oath, plunked his elbows on the writing desk, and rested his head in his hands. Never in his life had he been filled with such profound remorse and regret, never had he felt as powerless and frustrated as he felt right now. But as hellish as these feelings were, he almost relished them. Because this hell was of his own making, and nothing less than he deserved.

10

The night of Josephine’s ball, Kay’s trust in her younger sister’s taste proved amply rewarded, for the flowers and decorations were exquisite. And though Magdelene fretted that the vivid jade color of Jo’s gown was “too forward” for a debutante, Kay’s heart swelled with pride at how beautiful her sister looked tonight.

A week ago, Devlin had asked her if marrying a man she did not love was worth the sacrifice. As Kay looked around the crowded ballroom that boded so well for her sister to have a successful season, she almost wished Devlin were here so he could see for himself how obvious the answer was.

Jo, Kay thought, watching with delight as the Duke of Westbourne led the girl across the floor in the ball’s opening dance, would never be a wallflower shredded by gossip columnists for her figure or her complexion. Jo would not suffer for the mistakes of her parents or elder sister. Jo would now be able to make a good marriage. And for all of that, she could thank Wilson. Delia, of course, had been a godsend, working all week to help bring Josephine out, and the duke’s appearance here tonight would help as well, but if itweren’t for Wilson, there would not have been a season for Jo, nor any dowry to ensure her future.

So, yes, it was all worth it, Kay thought fiercely. Jo was worth any sacrifice she had to make.

“Darling!”

Kay turned to find Delia coming toward her in a luscious concoction of tangerine silk, hands outstretched in greeting. “Fashionably late, I see,” she teased, giving Delia a kiss on each cheek.

“Of course! You know I hate arriving anywhere on time.”

“I thought Calderon might be rubbing off on you. You said he’s a stickler for punctuality.”

“So he is, but alas for him, that character trait of his is not one I’m inclined to adopt.” She cast a glance over Kay’s amethyst purple ball gown. “What a lovely dress you’ve got on. Speaking of dresses, Jo looks absolutely stunning.”

“Just what I was thinking myself.”

“The young men have certainly noticed,” Delia added, nodding to the eager male faces watching the girl as she danced with the Duke of Westbourne.

“Some of the credit goes to you, Dee. And to the duke, of course,” she added, nodding to the ballroom floor as the waltz ended and Westbourne escorted Jo back to Magdelene’s side. “I am so thankful he was able to come down from Gloucestershire to attend the ball and lead her in the first dance. With the duchess expecting her baby in just a few weeks, I wasn’t sure he’d be able to come.”

“It’s only for the night. He’s going back tomorrow.”

“Still, I do appreciate it so much.”

“Don’t give Max all the credit! Evie told him if he didn’t comedown and partner Jo for the first dance, she’d make him sleep in the dressing room for a year.”

“A fate worse than death,” Kay said, laughing.

“To a man in love, it is, darling!” Delia paused, rising on her toes to have a better look at the crowd. “And look at all the other fashionables who are here. It bodes well for your wedding. And I’m glad you didn’t have to miss it.”

“Miss it? Are you daft? I wouldn’t miss Jo’s debutante ball for anything in the world.”

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