Chapter Twelve
A
dam stared through the open door of his study at the closed door across the hall. The silence emanating from the room was like a wall, laid across the threshold to bar his entrance. She spoke to him no more than was necessary, ate in her rooms and politely refused all visitors. She had succeeded in achieving the marital state that they had agreed on, allowing herself total solitude, and deeding complete freedom to him. He could do as he wanted in all things. His life was largely unchanged from the one he had before the marriage, with the exception of a near-unlimited supply of funds.
Why did he find it so vexing?
Perhaps because he had grown tired of that life, and had been quite ready to end it by any means available. Sick to death of playing, by turns, the wit, the lover or the buffoon for a series of false friends. Bone weary of dodging the insistent affections of Clarissa, who refused
to believe that he looked back on their affair with regret and self-disgust.
And Tim, still at his side as a true friend and adviser. He chose to play the absentminded academic, more interested in his books and his conservatory than in the people around him. He pretended no knowledge of what had occurred between Adam and his wife, until such moments as he let slip an idle comment or odd turn of phrase to prove he knew exactly what had occurred, and was disappointed, but not particularly surprised.
Adam had hoped that the introduction of Penelope to his life might lead to a lasting change. She had qualities most unlike the other women of his set: sweetness, sincerity and a mind inquisitive for things deeper than the latest fashion. And she had seemed, for a time, to hold him in respect. He must present a much different picture in
The Times
than he did in reality. For though she claimed to respect Bellston, the politician, it had taken her a week to become as disgusted with Bellston, the man, as he was himself.
A servant entered, offering him a calling card on a silver tray.
Hector Winthorpe.
It was some consolation to see that the card was impeccably done, for Adam had sent the invitations for the ball to the Winthorpe shop. And he had grudgingly added Hector’s name to the bottom of the guest list, as a good faith gesture. The man would not fit, but what could be done? Hector was family and they must both
get used to it. But what the devil was he doing, coming to the house now?
Adam gave his permission to the servant and in a moment, Hector entered the room without making a bow, then stood too close to the desk, making every effort to tower over him.
Adam responded with his most frosty expression and said, ‘If you are searching for your sister, she is across the hall. But it is pointless to try, for she refuses visitors when she is at work.’
‘You have had no better luck with her than I did, I see, if she is shut up alone in a library. But I did not come for her. I wish to speak to you.’
‘State your business, then.’
‘It is about this, your Grace.’ There was no respect or subservience in the title, as the man slapped the invitation to the ball on the desk in front of him.
‘A written response of regrets would have been sufficient.’
‘Regrets? It is you, sir, who should have regrets.’
Adam stared back, angry, but curious. ‘And what precisely should I regret, Hector? Marrying your sister? For I find I have surprisingly few regrets where she is concerned.’
Hector sniffed in disapproval. ‘Because she has given you your way in all things, I suppose. And because you care naught for her happiness, you have no guilt of the fact. If you felt anything at all for her, you would know better than this.’
Adam stared down at the invitation, truly baffled now. ‘I fail to see what is so unusual about a small gathering to celebrate our nuptials.’
‘Small?’ Hector shook his head. ‘For you, perhaps. But for my sister, any gathering over two is a substantial crowd.’
‘That is ridiculous. I have noticed no problems.’ Which was a lie, but he could not give the man the upper hand so easily.
Hector let out a disgusted snort. ‘If you noticed no problems with my sister, it is because she is a proud woman, and does not wish to admit to them. Did you not think it strange that she wanted nothing more from you than a chance to lock herself in her study and read?’
‘Not overly,’ he lied again, thinking of his first suspicions of her.
‘Or that an argument over something so simple as a book would drive her to such extreme action as marrying a total stranger?’
There was nothing he could say that would cover the situation, and he certainly could not tell the whole truth, which reflected badly on the man’s sister as well as himself. ‘It has not proved a problem thus far.’ He turned the argument back upon its sender. ‘Do you think she chose unwisely?’ And then he waited for the apology that must surely come.
‘Yes, I do, if you mean to trot her out before your friends as some sort of vulgar joke.’
‘How dare you, sir!’
Hector continued to be unabashed by the situation. ‘It was too late, by the time she brought you to our home, to insist that you answer this question. But what are your intentions toward my sister, if not to make her the butt of your jokes?’
Adam smiled bitterly. ‘I do not mean to fritter away her fortune, as you were doing. You were keeping her unmarried and under your control so that you could pour her money into your business.’
The shot hit home, and he saw rage in Hector’s eyes. ‘I am not proud of the fact that the business is in trouble, sir. And I did, indeed, borrow the money from her trust without inquiring of her first. It was wrong of me, for certain. But I did not need to keep her unmarried to plunder her fortune. She did quite a fine job of scaring away any potential mates when she had her come-out. Her subsequent isolation was all her own doing. As of late, it had become quite out of hand. When I attempted to correct her on this, she lost her temper and went to Scotland. Apparently, she was looking for any fool that would have her. And she found you.’ Hector said the word as though his sister had crossed the border and picked up not a husband, but some exotic disease.
Adam refused to rise to the bait. ‘She can be rash, of course. But I fail to see what is so serious in her behaviour that would cause you to censure her or deny her simple purchases. It was wrong of you, just as was the theft of her money.’
‘What do you know of her social life before you married her?’
Adam tried to think of anything he could say that would make him sound like he was an active participant in his own marriage, who had taken the time to get to know his wife, either before of after the ceremony. At last he said, ‘Nothing. Other than her reasons for wishing to marry, and that she was interested in translating the classics, she has told me nothing at all.’
‘Did you not think it odd that she has had no visits from friends, congratulating her on her marriage?’
He had not questioned it. But of course, there should have been guests to the house. If it had been any other woman, her friends would have beaten a path to the door, eager to meet the peer and bask in the reflected glow of Penny’s rise in stature. ‘I thought perhaps she had cast them off as unworthy. Now that she is a duchess…’
He could not manage to finish the sentence. He had thought no such thing. It was impossible to imagine Penny, who had little interest in her title or anyone else’s, being capable of such cruelty to her friends.
Hector was silent, letting the truth sink in. And then he confirmed Adam’s new suspicions. ‘She has received no visitors because there is no one who has missed her. No one has expressed concern at her absence, or will wish her well on her good fortune. She has no friends, sir. None.’
‘That is strange.’ He could not help but say it, for it was. ‘There is nothing about her that would indicate the
fact. She does not complain of loneliness. Nor is there any reason that people might shun her society.’
‘That is because she has been most effective at shunning the society of others. Her behaviour in public is, at best, outlandish, and at worst disturbing. When Father tried to give her a come-out, she made such a fool of herself that before the Season was complete, she had taken to her bed and was unwilling even to come down for tea. We hoped, with time, she would calm herself. But by the next year she was even more set in her ways than she had been. Small gatherings made her nervous, and large groups left her almost paralysed with fear.’
Hector looked at Adam with suspicion. ‘And so it went, until she went off to Scotland in a huff, and came back with you. You will find, once you get to know her, that no fortune will make up for deficiencies of the mind.’ His smile twisted with cruelty. ‘Or do you claim some sudden deep affection for the girl that caused you to sweep her from her feet?’
Once again, Adam was trapped between the truth and the appearance of the thing. ‘I can say in all honesty that I did not know of her fortune when I married her. And as far as my deep and abiding affection for her…’ the words stuck in his throat ‘…you will never hear me claim otherwise, in public or private.’
Hector smiled and nodded. ‘Spoken like a politician. It is not a lie, but it tells me nothing of what really happened.’
Adam stared at him without answering.
‘Very well.’ Hector tapped the invitation on the desk. ‘You will not explain. But as a politician, you must be conscious of how her behaviour will reflect on you. It might be best to cut your losses, before she exposes herself, as she is most sure to do, and brings scandal down upon you.’
Adam drew in a breath. ‘Cut my losses. And how, exactly, do you propose I do that?’
Hector smiled. ‘You may think it is too late to seek an annulment. But you can hardly be expected to remain married, if there is any question as to the mental soundness of one of the parties involved. Think of the children, after all.’
‘And if I cast her off?’
‘I would take her back, and make sure she had the care she needed.’
When hell freezes
. ‘And you will take her money as well, I suppose.’ Adam made a gesture, as if washing his hands. ‘You are right, Winthorpe. I am growing worried about what a child of this union may be like. Suppose my heir should take after you? If that is not reason to remain childless, I cannot think of a better one. And as for any balls or entertainments we might choose to have? Such things are between myself and my wife and none of your affair.’ But he felt less confident than he had before.
Hector threw his hands in the air. ‘Very well, then. On your head be it if the poor girl drops on the dance floor in a fit of nervous prostration. Do not say you
were not warned. The wilfulness of marrying was her doing. But you, sir, must take credit for the damage from now on.’ And with that, he collected his hat and left the house.
Adam stared across the hall and felt a wave of protectiveness for the woman behind the closed door. Her brother was even more repellent than Adam had imagined, and he understood why she might have been willing to risk a stranger over another moment with Hector.
His accusation was a ploy to regain control of her fortune, of course. But suppose his wife was as frightened of society as her brother claimed? It explained much of Penny’s behaviour, since they had been married. She was obviously happier alone with her books. It would be terribly unfair of him to expect her to stand before his friends as hostess.
Unfair, but necessary. People would talk, of course. There was no stopping it when Clarissa was egging them on. The longer his wife hid behind her studies, the louder the voices would become, and the crueller the speculations. A single evening’s entertainment would do much to settle wagging tongues.
But the sight of her, frozen in terror in front of a hundred guests, would do nothing to help and much to hurt. Hector was right in that, at least. He must avoid that, at all costs.
He rose, crossed the hall and knocked upon her door, opening it before she could deny him.
She was seated in a chair at the tiny writing desk in
the corner, attired in a pale blue gown that must have been one of the purchases he had forced upon her. He doubted it would win favour to tell her that the colour and style suited her well, although, in truth, they did. She looked quite lovely in the morning sunlight, surrounded by books.
She set down the volume she had been reading, pushed her glasses up her nose and looked up at him with cool uninterest. ‘Is there something that I can help you with?’
How best to broach the question? ‘I was wondering—
are preparations for the ball progressing well?’
She nodded, and he felt the tension in the air as she stiffened. ‘As well as can be expected. The invitations have been sent, and replies are returning. The hall is cleaned, the food is ordered.’
‘I thought…perhaps we could cancel the plans, if it is being too much trouble.’
She was looking at him as though he had lost his mind. ‘After all the trouble of choosing the food, decorating the hall, and sending the invitations, you now wish me to spend even more time in sending retractions?’
‘No. Really, I—’
‘Because if you think, at this date, it is possible to stop what you wished to set in progress, you are quite mad.’
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, vowing to remain calm in the face of her temper, no matter what might occur. ‘I do not wish to make more work for you, or to take you from your studies. I swear, that
was never my goal. My decision to hold the ball was made in haste, and without any thought to your feelings or needs. It pains me greatly that you heard of it from someone other than myself, for it further displayed my carelessness in not coming to you immediately to explain.’
‘Apology accepted.’ She turned back to her books, as though to dismiss him.
‘Your brother was here. In my study, just now.’
That had her attention. She looked up at him in surprise. ‘Whatever did he want?’
‘He came to throw my invitation back in my face and tell me that you were unfit to attend such an event, much less be the hostess. And that I was a brute for forcing you into it.’