The Merry Widow (6 page)

His cousin grinned at him. “If she is not, well, how will you get her to marry you?”

“I think,” he replied, “that I must give her no choice. Which is where you come in.”

***

Phillipa stopped pacing and glanced up at the lantern clock perched atop the mantelpiece. Her guests would be arriving within the hour, and for the hundredth time this evening she questioned the reasoning behind inviting Reggie to tonight’s dinner party.

What she’d done was unheard of. Hiring a rentboy was bad enough, but socializing with him! He had no reason for being in her house at all, other than that she enjoyed his company. That wasn’t a good enough reason, especially when her other guests might question how they’d met. And what was she going to say? She could hardly tell them she’d been so lonely for male companionship, she had to pay for it. Or that he hadn’t actually accepted his well-earned pay! What would they think of that?

But she had no more time to fret over the prospect, because Beatrice had ushered in the first arrivals. For the next half hour, Phillipa gamely played hostess to her guests while praying Reggie had remembered propriety and changed his mind about attending the party.

“Well, piss and shit!” Lucy exclaimed. She was looking over the heads of the crowd near the drawing room door. Phillipa opened her mouth to upbraid her for using such guttural language in mixed company, but the young woman continued, “Mrs. Jones, I didn’t know you’d finally met that viscount fellow!”

Phillipa opened her mouth to refute the false assumption, but Beatrice’s voice rose above the cacophony. “His Lordship Viscount Bellomont and the Right Honourable Lady Sarah

Willoughby.”

Like everyone else in the room, Phillipa stared at the handsome couple standing just inside the door’s archway. They were attired, as was everyone else in the room, in evening dress. But they were flamboyantly beautiful, birds of paradise in a room full of wrens.

Viscount Bellomont’s black tie ensemble was de rigueur for formal evening wear. However, the large diamond studs winking in the cuffs of his white dress shirt must have been calculated to arouse the envy of anyone born into the working classes, which was the case for everyone else in the room. Phillipa focused on this detail to distract herself from the cruel reality. Viscount Bellomont was no other than her secret lover Reggie, and to multiply the humiliation, he had brought another woman to her dinner.

No. Not a woman. A lady. In every sense, Lady Sarah Willoughby was his peer and the epitome of everything Phillipa wasn’t—young, beautiful, and aristocratic. Her dress, most likely designed by the much sought-after House of Worth, was a divine creation of champagne satin and gold Chantilly lace.

Phillipa looked down at her own gown and grimaced. Because she must always maintain the image of a prim and proper businesswoman, her attire, though elegant and proper, was drab in comparison. Now she realized the olive green flowers in velvet on a background of light green silk was more suited to a sofa than an upper middleclass woman who ran a successful transcontinental shipping line.

But what did it matter, her dress? She was going to be ruined. And she couldn’t even care, for her heart was breaking.

Phillipa knew she was shirking her responsibilities, but she found that she could not move. Not even the unnatural silence that now permeated the room could motivate her. How could she greet them and play the part as good-natured hostess when he’d made such a fool of her?

But then Lucy reached out, placed a hand over hers, and gave a gentle squeeze. “Go ahead, ma’am. Show them what you’re made of.”

Those simple words of encouragement put the needed steel in Phillipa’s spine. Raising her head high, she gathered her voluminous skirts in her hands. Her drive must have alerted the others in attendance as well because by the time she was halfway across the room, conversation had resumed.

Phillipa didn’t look at Viscount Bellomont as he made the obligatory introductions. Instead, she dropped into a deep curtsy, regained her footing, and focused her attention on Lady Sarah Willoughby. Unlike many women of her station, she didn’t give the impression of being insipid or taciturn. Instead, she seemed positively genial and her eyes contained a surprising spark of intelligence.

Phillipa said, “It is a pleasure to meet you, my lady.”

“My pleasure as well, Mrs. Jones. However, I do think an apology is order for my cousin’s rudeness. I can tell by the expression on your face that you were not expecting me. And normally, I never drop in on anyone uninvited. But he absolutely insisted I accompany him.”

Phillipa could not look over at Reggie, and she thought he was also not looking at her. “Your—your cousin?”

“Reggie, do stop being a poltroon and get us some wine.” Lady Sarah gave a tinkling laugh and pushed him towards the wine table. “He didn’t tell you that, did he? No wonder you look so pole-axed! Yes, I am his cousin. And you must be the reason I’m here.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“He told me,” Lady Sarah said, her voice dropping conspiratorially, “that if I came here with him, I could meet the woman who’d stolen his heart.”

Phillipa felt the room spin around her. “I stole his heart?”

Lady Sarah turned to gaze at her cousin, who was pouring a glass of wine. “So he says. And his heart is something he usually keeps rather close to his chest.”

Phillipa gave a brief smile at this witticism. But as Reggie approached, glass in hand, she said coldly and loudly enough for him to hear, “Well, I don’t believe it. In fact, I wasn’t aware he had a heart. For it seems to have been replaced with his wallet.”

“Oh, touché.” Lady Sarah clapped her fan against her open palm in amusement. “It seems she knows you all too well, dear cousin.”

Before Phillipa could react, Lady Sarah stepped forward and linked arms with her. Taken back by such intimacy, she didn’t protest when the younger woman led her to a corner of the drawing room, leaving Reggie to his own devices.

“I know my cousin can be rather cold,” Lady Sarah offered solicitously. “But he does have a heart, truly, although he doesn’t give it freely.”

Indignant, Phillipa whirled on the other woman. “Pardon me, Lady Sarah, but he is the son of an earl and sole proprietor of the largest shipping company in the Grand Surrey Docks! And he has orchestrated this to attain even more wealth by taking over my business!”

Lady Sarah sighed. “Well, as to that, he does not need me to defend himself. Ah! I believe your housekeeper is calling us to dinner. Although I’m watching my figure, I’m famished.”

Phillipa’s guests paired off to begin the traditional procession into dinner. And to her horror, the only available escort was Viscount Bellomont, his cousin having accepted the escort of one of the younger sea captains. Although Phillipa would have rather pulled teeth than consent to Reggie’s escort, she knew she could not refuse him without exciting comment. Seething inwardly, she managed to project a serene demeanor as she accepted his arm. Yet she tensed when he leaned towards her.

He said in a low voice, “Although you may think I might have used you, believe me when I tell you that what occurred between you and me had nothing to do with my wallet or your business.”

“Please, Lord Bellomont,” she replied through gritted teeth. “Do not make this harder than it currently is. I will be cordial for the rest of the evening. But after tonight, I do not want to see you again.”

“You can’t mean that, ma petite fille—”

“Don’t call me that! I forbid you.”

He drew back. His voice was still low, but harsh. “You forbid? You do remember what I told you in the carriage today. When you were riding my cock.”

Phillipa faltered slightly at the mention of their afternoon dalliance. Thankfully, he was there to prevent her from falling. But instead of setting her to rights on her own two feet, he pulled her against him. He lowered his head so that his lips grazed the top of her ear.

“I see you do remember our afternoon affair.” He chuckled wickedly. “Then you also remember how I warned you that after today no other man would be allowed to rest between your thighs or taste your lips. You belong to me, ma petite fille, and I will never let you go.”

She couldn’t help it. A thrill ran through her at his words. But she had to be strong. The moment they entered the formal dining room, she broke away from him. In vain. Before she could take her seat, he’d come up behind her, pulled out her chair, and taken the seat directly to her left. Obviously Bea had figured out he was her “special guest” and set his place card there, as well as arranging the additional service for Lady Sarah.

Phillipa gritted her teeth in annoyance. As hostess she would be required to engage him in conversation. In an attempt to forestall the inevitable, she concentrated her efforts on draping her napkin on her lap, perusing the dinner menu, and fiddling with the extensive place setting.

Unfortunately, she could not keep this up for long. There were only so many things at the dinner table to fuss with. Surprisingly enough, Reggie didn’t force himself on her person. Instead, he engaged Captain Brightman in a lively conversation about buggy racing, an interest they shared.

Although most of the evening passed uneventfully, she sighed in relief as the final meat course was removed. Soon an iced pudding would be served, followed by coffee, liqueurs and sparkling water. After that, she and the other women would retire to the drawing room, leaving the men to enjoy their glasses of port. Blessedly, not long after the groups came together again, the evening would be over.

Before dessert the table was cleared of everything, including the tablecloth. This tradition had always amused Phillipa. For some reason the frivolous revealing of a highly polished dinner table always left one’s guests awestruck, resulting in an unusual quiet.

Unfortunately, Reggie took this opportunity to engage her in conversation. And what he said was typically outrageous. “So, have you informed your staff that before the week is out, you will be a married woman once again?”

Phillipa felt all eyes swing in her direction. She could not meet any of them. As the blood rushed to her head, she centered her attention somewhere between Reggie’s head and the top button of his dinner shirt. “I don’t know what you mean,” she said frigidly.

“Oh, Reggie!” Lady Sarah exclaimed. “Why, this is splendid news. I will definitely have to include this in my forthcoming article. And here I was having trouble coming up with something delicious for my readers.”

Phillipa’s blood grew cold. Lady Sarah couldn’t mean—

“Yer article?” Lucy asked.

The lady looked around. Presumably seeing no one who frequented her circles enough to gossip effectively, she lowered her voice. “My article in the Evening Marlborough. I write under the name Lady Cherbourg.”

At least, Phillipa thought, this revelation—one she preferred not to believe—had the effect of diverting attention from Reggie’s absurd announcement. All eyes shifted from Phillipa to Lady Sarah, for it wasn’t every day that one dined with someone who’d practically turned London on its ear for revealing the debauchery of the upper classes.

Lady Sarah smiled graciously as several of the guests, primarily the men, bombarded her with questions. Phillipa, on the other hand, gripped her chair for support. It felt as if her head were spinning out of control! Yet it was hardly any surprise, considering the blood had reversed its rush and was now draining from all her extremities.

“So tell me, dear cousin, do you truly plan to wed by the end of the week?” Lady Sarah asked. “How do you plan to carry off such a feat without calling the banns?”

“It will be simple enough to manage,” Reggie said coolly. “I will procure a special license to marry from the Archbishop of Canterbury.”

“I wouldn’t count on that,” Phillipa said, her voice sharp. “Considering the exploits detailed by the Evening Marlborough, please don’t expect us to believe you have the ear of the Archbishop.”

She tensed when he turned his head in her direction and his brown eyes pinned her to the spot.

“You should not believe everything you see in print,” he said. “Although I sowed wild oats a time or two as a youth, I also served as an acolyte while the Archbishop was still the chancellor of Lincoln Minister. Because of him I even considered becoming a man of the cloth.”

“But he became a rake instead,” Lady Willoughby said, chortling.

“I was a rake,” Reggie corrected. “I’ve never had a desire to marry, until now.”

“What about the company?” Mr. Harald asked, his face etched with worry.

Phillipa opened her mouth, but once again someone superseded her. “No need to fret about your job, Mr. Harald. As you all well know, by law Mrs. Jones will be able to retain control over her holdings after we wed. However, I have decided that B & T Limited will cease to exist once become a married man. I will fold all of my holdings into The Jones Maritime Shipping Line. I feel my fiancé has done such a stellar job running her own business that I welcome taking a secondary role.”

Phillipa was as stunned as her guests at his revelation. It was unheard of for a husband to give up right of ownership upon marriage, let alone play second fiddle to his wife. And it sounded rather like he had given this matter serious consideration, as if he actually meant to follow through.

“Why, that’s mad, your lordship!” Mr. Hadley protested. “A married woman’s place is in the home.”

Reggie chuckled. “It’s not so mad, Mr. Hadley. Our own Queen Victoria has successfully held the reins of our fair country for more than fifty years. Moreover, I don’t think we would have become the global power we are today without her shrewd council.”

Phillipa rolled her eyes as “God Save the Queen” rippled around the table.

“Well, I think the idea is not only revolutionary, but romantic as well!” Lady Sarah beamed. “Please let me be the first to express my congratulations for your upcoming nuptials.”

As a round of congratulations went around the table, Phillipa felt a wave of nausea sweep over her. Afraid she would make a fool of herself in front of her guests, she decided to call it an early evening.