The Duke's Divorce (The Reluctant Grooms Series Volume IV) (11 page)

“You are a very fast learner, Fiona,” he
said.

She opened her eyes. His were so close to
hers she could see the golden depths in his irises.

“You are a very good teacher, my lord.” Fiona
was breathless being this close to him. She could not deny he was
the most handsome man she had ever known. Another shiver ran
through her body and he pulled her closer.

“I do wish you would call me by my given name
for the rest of the evening,” he said softly in her ear. “It would
not do for others to notice this quirk of yours. We are supposed to
be newly wedded.” His warm breath on the side of her neck heated up
a fire inside her she had no idea how to extinguish. She clasped
his hand tighter.

“Which would you prefer I call you, Cantin or
Robert?”

He said nothing for a moment and then, “I
believe Robert, would do.”

“Or should I use the less informal as
sometimes your cousin does, and call you Robby.”

He moved her closer still.

“I do not believe we shall ever be in a room
where that will be necessary.” He sighed.

“Oh, is this another rule I have yet to
learn? There is only a particular place where I may address you as
such?”

Robert leaned back and gazed in her eyes with
a look she could not fathom. “I believe that place would be the
bedroom, Fiona. Robby is far too intimate for you to be addressing
me in public.”

He settled her back against him and twirled
her without speaking again until the dance ended, all too soon,
much too soon.

They stood at the edge of the dance floor,
inches apart, not touching. The loss of his arms around her left
her feeling like a ship in the desert. She wanted to say something,
but could not manage a coherent thought.

“You may now dance with whomever you choose,”
he said. “However, you will reserve the waltz for me, and only me.
If I find you in the arms of another, I will be exceedingly
displeased.” Robert brought her hand to his lips. “Do I make myself
clear, wife?”

Robert’s intentional use of the word brought
his point home.

“Yes, husband, as clear as glass.”

Robert led her back to the corner where his
companions stood, waiting for their wives to return from the
dowager dais. After conferring, it was determined that William
would accompany Robert to the refreshment table in the other room,
while Ellis stood watch over Fiona. He was the more intimidating of
the two cousins and now that Fiona had had her turn about the dance
floor, every fop and dandy would be vying for a chance to turn her
as well. Ellis would make sure Fiona did not get in over her
head.

As William and Robert made their way to the
outer hall, Robert detoured to the library. There, Robert retrieved
two glasses of brandy from a footman.

William held out his hand.

“Forgive me, Will, I’m afraid these are both
mine.” Robert downed the first in one gulp and placed the glass on
the side table. He took a slower sip from the second glass and
looked at his cousin.

“I must say, Robby, I have never quite seen
you looking thus.” William took his own glass of brandy.

“It shows?” Robert asked in a sarcastic
tone.

“Well, yes, if you must know, it does, very
much in fact. I do not know what has brought about such misery, but
surely it cannot be as bad as all that. Have you had another
disagreement with Fiona already?”

Robert looked at William. He couldn’t
possibly know about the gown incident. “To what do you refer?”

“Penny told me you had a row with Fiona about
her speaking to the servants. Pen said the poor girl was quite
undone actually, with tears and a heavy heart.”

“Fiona wept?” Robert asked. Over something,
he
had said. That was preposterous, the woman snarled like
an angry cat whenever he tried to impose his authority.

“Yes. Pen wanted to run you to ground over
it, but I told her you two needed to manage that between
yourselves.”

Robert thought back to that day in the study
with Edwards, who found the staff had been telling Fiona about
Robert and his business affairs. Robert immediately called for her
and banned her from speaking with them other than to issue a
request. Her reply shocked him.

“Who would you have me talk with then, my
lord? You are never here and when you are, you ignore me. I have
tried to engage you in conversation, but you take any excuse to
leave. Your mother lives her own life and I have not so many
friends to keep me engaged every day. What is it you wish me to do,
sit in my room, by myself, day after day, the way I did in
Scotland?”

She had fled the library, but he thought
about her reply for a long while. He then told Edwards she could
speak with the staff in any manner she so chose. Edwards had been a
little put out, but he would not disobey his master.

William gave Robert a questioning look.

“That has been sorted,” Robert said. “Just a
misunderstanding on Edwards’ part. All has been set to right.”

“I have had the opportunity to converse with
her,” William said. “And I must say she seems to be a delightful
creature, besides being blazingly beautiful. Are you sure you do
not wish to keep her?” William took a last swallow of brandy.

“No,” Robert said. He was finished discussing
his wife. “I suppose we should find them some lemonade.”

Robert and William found the refreshment
table and asked a footman to follow them with a tray of drinks.
Stepping back into the ballroom, Robert waylaid by Lord Montescu,
watched his wife dance the last steps with a Viscount whose name he
could not remember. Trying to stay focused on Montescu’s shipment
for the next boat bound for the West Indies proved a challenge as
Robert watched Fiona walk off the dance floor into a circle of
waiting admirers. Fiona spoke gaily, and laughed, and when the Earl
of Greenleigh bowed before her, she gladly accepted his hand for
the next dance with a warm smile.

Robert found himself with a stirring in his
gut he did not like. He had never elicited that kind of smile from
her. Then again, he had never tried.

Business concluded with Montescu, Robert made
his way back to the corner. He stood stiffly, while he waited for
Fiona to finish with Greenleigh. She gracefully stepped back and
forth through rows of dancers, her face animated and flushed, and
the smile never left her lips. She could do no better with
Greenleigh as a husband. His Earldom was secure, his estate
handsome, his fortune large, although not as large as Robert’s own.
However, the earl was a bore, a great bore, who only talked about
Italian art or the state of Parliament. Robert supposed as a man,
Fiona might find him attractive, if she could get past his beak of
a nose.

Robert’s gut stirred again, and decided he
did not want to watch his wife in the arms of other men. His main
objective concluded, dancing the first with her, he saw no other
reason to remain by her side. Thankfully, he knew Lady
Berringbourne well. She was of the old tradition and only allowed
two waltzes. The next would be right before supper at midnight.
Robert checked his watch. He had two hours before he had to dance
again.

Robert made his way back to the library.
Perhaps a game of cards might take his mind off Fiona.

An hour later, Robert found his mother
sitting in the dowager corner with Lady Olivia and several of their
cronies.

“Dearest, what are you doing here? You should
be dancing with Fiona,” his mother said as he bent to kiss her on
the cheek.

“I believe her dance card is full, Mother. I
came to see if you would like a twirl.”

She smiled. “What a lovely thought, thank
you, Robert, but no, I shall decline.” She looked at him with
concern. “Are you well, dearest? You seem rather wan.”

“No, I am quite well, thank you.” He sat next
to her. “I just do not know what to do with myself. I was quite
prepared for Fiona to get into a scrape of some kind, but as that
does not seem to be forthcoming, I find myself bored.”

“Bored? At a ball? Dearest, surely there must
be a card game in the library, or friends with which to speak. I’m
sure I saw Davingdale among the throng.”

Robert shrugged. “I have already spoken to
him, and played a round in the library.” He checked his pocket
watch. Again. “I believe I am getting too old for this, Mother. I
cannot wait for it to be over.” What had Fiona done to his
proclivity for enjoyment?

Lady Olivia clucked. “Cantin, my Fuzzy stayed
at every ball ‘til dawn, up until his dying day. He was eighty when
he passed and you are less than half his age.”

Robert gave her a sidelong glance. “For some
reason I feel twice Lord Caymore’s age right now.”

“Oh, dearest.” His mother sighed. “Why do not
you dance, if not with Fiona, then perhaps with Penelope. You
should do your duty by your cousin’s wife as he has done by yours.
‘Twould be highly irregular if you did not.” She patted his
hand.

She was right. He had seen William take a
turn with Fiona.

Robert kissed his mother again, bowed to Lady
Olivia and headed back toward the terrace doors. He found Ellis and
William conversing with several of their friends who congratulated
him on his exquisite choice in wife.

“Quite the fashion your wife is wearing,”
said Ferring. “Wish my Dotty looked that good.”

Robert laughed to himself. Ferring’s wife
could never look that good on her best day.

“Bet you cannot wait to take it off her, eh,
old man?” this from Gredlow.

“Is she as spirited in the bedroom as she
seems on the dance floor?”

Robert clenched his fists and glared at
Stockton. The man was a lecher of the first water. How he remained
in their circle, Robert couldn’t hazard a guess.

“I shall ask you to refrain from those kinds
of comments about my wife,” Robert snarled.

“All in good fun, Cantin. All in good fun.”
Stockton clapped him on the back.

He supposed it was. Robert remembered his own
bawdy humor when presented with another’s, similar situation. He
had to get a hold on himself.

The music ended and Robert turned to watch
Fiona approach on the arm of Greenleigh. Again? How many dances had
she allowed him?

“Robert, how lovely you could join us,” Fiona
said.

Was that a hint of sarcasm in her tone?

“Yes, well, as my mother reminded me, I must
ask Penelope for a dance before the night is over. And as you seem
to have no lack of admirers, I thought you should not mind.”

Fiona’s smile faded. “No, of course not,” she
said and turned to Gredlow. “I believe this next is ours, is it
not?” And with that, Fiona placed her hand on Gredlow’s arm and
they proceeded to join the lines forming on the dance floor.

William nudged him in the ribs. “Are you
daft? You should have asked her first before Penny.”

Yes, he should have. What was wrong with him?
He was married to the most beautiful woman in the room. Yet he
didn’t want to touch her, not unless he absolutely had to. Dancing
the waltz had been torture. She smelled sweet and fresh and felt
delightful in his arms. Holding her thus had given rise to an
almost painful embarrassment, which he had no wish to repeat. He
could not wait for his mother to finally tire of the evening so he
could see them home, go to his club, and seek solace in drink. If
this was going to be his life during the course of the Season, it
was going to be a hard one to maintain.

*****

Oh, what was wrong with her that her own
husband would not even take a turn with her? After her dance with
Gredlow, she excused herself from her circle of friends and headed
for the retiring room. Finished, she found a glass of lemonade, and
Fiona stepped onto the terrace from the dining room. The night air
was cold, but refreshing after the press of bodies all night long.
She sipped from her glass and walked to the edge of the low
stonewall. People strolled among the gardens; a few well-placed
lanterns illuminated the paths. She wondered what it would be like
if she and Robert were one of those couples.

Yes, Robert had done his part in the
ballroom, but barely that. Alas, most husbands did not remain by
their wives throughout the night and went to play cards or seek
their friends counsel. However, as she was newly married it was
expected that he would. Penny had related the three cousins were
thick as thieves and always banded together at these functions. So
if Robert had always been in the company of his cousins, then why
should tonight be any different? Why had he left her alone, to fend
for herself?

She had looked forward to this evening for
weeks as she and Robert struggled to find an amiable accord at
home. Fiona wanted to find that same accord elsewhere. She realized
she was only fooling herself. It was obvious Robert was keeping to
his side of their bargain.

“Here you are,” said a voice from behind her.
“I have been looking everywhere for you.”

Fiona turned and found Lord Stockton. She
hoped the shadowy light from the ballroom hid the grimace behind
her smile.

“Pray, have I forgotten our dance?” Fiona
asked. “Forgive me, Lord Stockton. In retrieving my lemonade I
found the allure of the night air quite seductive.”

Stockton moved closer. “Is that so?” He
loomed over her in the semi-darkness.

Fiona took a step back.

“Do not be shy, Lady Cantin. I promise I will
not bite. Yet.” He took up her hand and placed a kiss on the back
of her glove.

“Forgive me, Lord Stockton. I fear I should
return to the ballroom now. Robert must be wondering where I am.”
She tried to disengage her hand from his grasp, but he would not
let go.

“Have no fear. Your husband is also nowhere
to be found. Does he leave you alone like this frequently?”