Page 13 of His Darling Duchess
Opening his mouth to decry the suggestion as nonsensical, Grantleigh suddenly realised he was the focus of quite a few sideways glances, as other men in the room huddled in tight knots and talked in low voices.
“Dare say Lymsey’s been made aware by now that you’re here,” Harrel said.
Grantleigh was reminded that he’d always thought Harrel was an obnoxious little twerp when they were at school together. The years since hadn’t improved him.
“Damn Stowe for interfering, anyway,” Grantleigh muttered under his breath. If his cousin had just held off from coming in for another few minutes, the ladies would have seen Aurelia in his arms and that would be the end of the matter. He’dprobably be meeting with Lymsey this very morning to discuss the settlements.
Instead, the women probably came in to find Aurelia with a torn gown, alone - because Stowe would have quickly made himself scarce, the man had no idea how to talk to ladies. Louis was probably furious because Grantleigh had been forced to leave Aurelia alone.
That said, he was still annoyed Aurelia had made such a mighty fuss about his kissing her. What had she thought was going to happen, when she accompanied him to the library? He hadn’t really intended to tear her dress, but the silly way she’d tried to push him off inflamed him, and he’d decided to teach her a lesson about who her master was. She’d soon learn to enjoy his attentions, once they were married. He certainly wouldn’t tolerate any refusal or denial of his husbandly rights.
But he did have to get her to the altar first, and it sounded as though Louis had entirely the wrong impression about Grantleigh’s actions and intentions. Maybe it would be best to leave London for a few days, allow Louis’ temper to cool. If there was gossip spreading about Aurelia, Lord Lymsey would soon see that there was no option but to allow her to marry Grantleigh as quickly and quietly as possible. They’d welcome him back with relief and open arms. Why, Lymsey would probably even go to the effort and expense of obtaining the special license to have it ready in hand when Grantleigh returned, which would save him a deal of trouble.
Two weeks, Grantleigh judged privately. Two weeks would be long enough, with everyone gathering at Christmas house parties with nothing better to do than gossip about their betters, for the Lymsey family to start seriously panicking. He could go to his estate near Bath; he rarely bothered to visit since it was small and not nearly as luxurious as the Stowe townhouse, buthe supposed he should look it over and see what he ought to do to it once Aurelia’s dowry was paid over.
“I’m going out of town,” he told Harrel, who listened avidly, obviously hopeful of some tidbit of gossip. “Let Louis cool off.”
“Where will you go?” Harrel asked.
Grantleigh suppressed a derisive snort. Harrel would tell anyone who asked, and then Louis would be on his tail within hours. “Nottingham,” he lied glibly, and added a grain of truth. “I’ve friends there who invited me to visit them for Christmas.” Determined to secure Aurelia, he’d declined the invitation, but the letter was still on his desk in the townhouse, which Stowe would discover if he bothered to assist Lymsey in looking. Added to Harrel’s testimony about what he’d said, hopefully any pursuit would be in entirely the wrong direction.
Damn Stowe anyway! His cousin’s intrusion at just the wrong moment put a crimp in Grantleigh’s plans, but it would only be temporary. Aurelia would be the new Lady Grantleigh before the end of January. He was quite determined on it.
Chapter Six
Three days later, Aureliastood in the drawing-room of the Lymsey townhouse beside the Duke of Stowe and accepted him as her husband. Wearing one of the lovely gowns which had been commissioned for her London Season, the gowns which would now form part of her trousseau, she looked quite exceptionally beautiful. Everyone said so, anyway.
Aurelia didn’t feel beautiful. She’d looked paler than snow when she looked into her mirror, her eyes hollow from a lack of sleep. At least she wasn’t the only one who looked exhausted, she thought, looking beyond her new husband at Lady Grantleigh, the only one of his relatives to attend the wedding.
Lord Grantleigh hadn’t been seen since leaving the Stowe townhouse the night he attacked her, and Lady Grantleigh had obviously taken the news of her son’s disgraceful behaviour and his subsequent disappearance hard. Still, she smiled at Aurelia as the bishop pronounced her Stowe’s wife, and Lady Lymsey linked her arm through Lady Grantleigh’s in a show of support.
Stowe took her hand, and Aurelia looked down as he put a ring on her finger, a heavy thing of gold with a square-cut ruby set on top of it. It looked very old and very valuable, and was too big for her finger. She made a fist to stop it from sliding off, and caught Stowe’s frown from the corner of her eye. Well, it wasn’t her fault the ring was too big!
Ophelia and Viola both hurried forward to congratulate her, Viola offering an exaggeratedly low curtsy and calling her Your Grace immediately.
“Oh, stop,” Aurelia half-laughed.
“No, no,” Stowe said, “lower.”
Viola burst into giggles, eyeing him speculatively, and he winked at her.
The little joke eased a little of the icy knot which seemed to have taken up residence in the pit of Aurelia’s stomach. Despite the grim cast to Stowe’s features most of the time, he had a sense of humour and wasn’t above teasing her little sister. Grantleigh barely acknowledged Viola’s existence, a little voice in her head pointed out, and she shook it off. She would not think of Grantleigh today, would not let him cast a shadow over her wedding day any more than he already had.
Lady Lymsey had insisted on throwing a wedding breakfast, and had invited quite a few of the family’s closest friends as well as all of their family members who were in London, quite a number of whom Aurelia barely knew. Every single one of them came up to offer their congratulations to the new duchess, however, and nobody so much as breathed a whisper that the marriage was born in scandal.
“Nobody will even remember in a few weeks,” Lady Lymsey had promised as she nestled the Lymsey diamond tiara into Aurelia’s hair that morning. “Your marriage will be a nine-day wonder, and forgotten as soon as the next excitement comesalong. Nobody would dare insult your husband by continuing to gossip about it anyway!”
The tiara, and the matching necklace and ear bobs, were ridiculously heavy. Aurelia’s neck already felt scratched from the sharp edges of the necklace, and a headache was beginning to pound at her temples. Somehow, she got through the breakfast, nibbling on a few of the delicacies placed before her and nodding and smiling her way through the conversations going on around her.
His new wife had been pale when she entered the drawing-room on her father’s arm, and her pallor had only grown more marked as the day wore on. As they rose from the table, she swayed briefly, and Stowe reached out instinctively to steady her.
“Are you feeling quite well, my lady?” he asked quietly.
Huge eyes rose to meet his gaze, and his heart ached for her as he saw the dark shadows beneath them.
“It’s heavy,” she whispered, and he frowned before realising she must mean the massive tiara she was wearing. It looked heavy, spirals of diamonds each the size of his little fingernail rising in an arch the breadth of his hand.
“Would you like to leave?” he asked, knowing she would have to remove the diamonds to return them. They were the Lymsey heirloom jewels and not hers to keep, though as a daughter of the house of course she would wear them to be married in.
