Wife Errant (12 page)

“You had best sit down, till we think what can be done about it.”

They sat side by side on the sofa. “I don’t suppose you could talk your mama into staying at home?”
he suggested.

“You might as well ask a dog not to scratch his fleas. She has been looking forward to the party all day. Would Lord James agree—?”

“No point even asking him. He is the most selfish thing in nature.”

“A family failing, no doubt,”
she said acidly. Revel’s backbone arched at her tone. “Well, I must warn Mama, and just hope for the best. You must speak to Lord James—ask him not to dangle after Mama too assiduously. Can I trust you not to make a botch of it? Tell him Papa is an excellent shot.”

“Cousin James has a few notches in his pistol,”
Revel replied.

“If this comes to a duel, Revel, it will be entirely your fault.”

Revel’s fit of guilt was fast evaporating as emotion gave way to reason. “You are the master planner, Tess. I am merely your aide-de-camp. We share the blame, but the major part is yours.”

“I had thought men always took the blame for a lady’s little peccadilloes. Or is that just
gentlemen?”

“If you wish to use a lady’s prerogatives, you should act like one. Your behavior throughout this entire ordeal has been that of a shrew.”

She rose haughtily. “If we are sunk to calling names, there is nothing more to be said.”
She waited for him to recant, but he just glared. “You will speak to Lord James?”
she asked, or commanded.

Revel stood up. “He might take heed, if the request came from you.”
He stopped and stood a moment, staring into the moldering flames of the grate. “By Jove, that might do it!”

“What do you mean?”

“You! Lord James will be delighted to have an excuse to dangle after you. He has no real interest in your mama since he learned Northbay is entailed.”

“I don’t want your horrid cousin dangling after me.”

“You don’t want a scandal or a duel, either. We must all make some sacrifices, Tess. I see a further benefit in this scheme as well.”

“Well, I do not!”

“That is because you are selfishly thinking only of yourself. You must have noticed your mother—and your father, too, now I think of it—are beginning to harbor some idea that you and I are altar-bound. You promised to be the jilter,”
he reminded her. “Tonight could very well provide the basis for our pending quarrel.”

“Who would believe
I’d
favor Lord James over you?”

“God knows you haven’t shown any fondness for me.”

“But he’s old and poor. And besides, he is Mama’s flirt.”

“Do you want to avoid a duel or not?”
he said, choosing the most menacing words he could find.

“Of course I do.”
She looked at him crossly. “Very well then. I shall pretend to receive his attentions with pleasure, but you must warn him it is all playacting. I don’t want him dangling after me later.”

“I’ll call on him now. I must warn Aunt Corbeil as well. What a troublesome wench you are, Tess Marchant. I used to think you were one of those dull, well-behaved girls.”

She glared. “I daresay that is why you never once, in all the years we have been neighbors, invited me to any of your parties.”

“I seem to recall seeing you at our balls at Revel Hall.”

“Yes, your balls, where you ask everyone, even the beadle. You never asked me to any of your private parties, when you had the smarts and swells from the city. Not that I would have accepted,”
she added hastily.

“That was remiss of me. I expect I thought you too slow, but I see you would have fit in remarkably well. You have given me a more proper appreciation for dullness and respectability these past few days. When this fracas is over, I mean to find me a pretty violet, blossoming unseen deep in the country, and marry her.”

“Then leave her in the country, while you dash off to take your pleasures elsewhere.”

“Precisely, but I shall take care to see she is placed in water and tended carefully.”
He bowed and left, feeling he had had the last word.

He did wonder, though, how it came he had not invited Tess to any of his private parties. How she would have enjoyed making fun of his friends. He would invite her to the next one, now that he was coming to know her better.

Over dinner, Tess told her mother and Dulcie the news. Expecting an outburst from her mama, Tess was amazed when Mrs. Marchant fell into a pensive silence. As is so often the case after a prolonged bout of marriage, Mr. and Mrs. Marchant thought alike in many matters. It didn’t take the dame long to figure out that Revel was trying to bring herself and Lyle together. What reason could he possibly have except that he meant to offer for Tess?

“Revel thinks your father will attend?”
she asked coolly.

“Yes. Do you think it wise for us to go, Mama?”
Tess asked hopefully. Her mother’s calm demeanor gave rise to the possibility of staying home.

“I hope we can both behave like decent parents in public. Of course we shall go, Tess. It is clear to me now that Revel arranged this whole party to bring your papa and I together, and of course to introduce you to his family. We must keep a solid front until you have him shackled.”

“You are quite mistaken, Mama. Revel and I are only friends,”
she protested.

“I have often thought a marriage of convenience would suit you, Tess. And of course it is the only kind of marriage for a fellow like Revel. He would not want the inconvenience of being in love with his wife.”

“It sounds horrid,”
Dulcie said.

“Goose! I used to feel the same way when I was a child, but I have come to see the error of my ways. Marrying for love is
a grave error. Of course I would not force my daughters to marry where there was an actual aversion, but then you and Revel are good friends, Tess, so it will work out fine.”

Tess saw that Lord James might prove useful after all. She could pretend to be in love with him, which would perhaps convince her mama to take her home to Northbay. But why did Mama think a marriage of convenience would suit her?

“I think a marriage of convenience sounds horrid, too,”
Tess said. “I would hate it of all things. To be married to Revel, while he ran about the countryside chasing girls.”
She would kill him, that’s all.

“I do hope you are not falling in love with him, Tess,”
her mother said sharply. “There is nothing more likely to put him off.”

“Of course I am not falling in love with him.”

Yet she felt a prickling of hot anger when she thought of Revel chasing other girls. She was obliged to put it down to outraged morality. It was morally wrong for married men to desert their wives and act as if they were still bachelors.

Before the ladies left, a whole bevy of corsages arrived, and the ladies fell on them with glee. “How pretty!”
Dulcie squealed. “I never had a corsage before. Mine must be from Mr. Evans. I didn’t know he was invited.”

Mrs. Marchant read the card and reached for the one orchid. The others were rosebuds. “They are not from Mr. Evans, dear. They are all from Lord Revel. Oh, the orchid is for you, Tess.”
She was annoyed, until she realized the significance of sending Tess the superior corsage. “And you say there is nothing between the pair of you! I swear you are full of surprises.”

“It’s purple,”
Tess said, looking at it askance. “It doesn’t match my blue gown.

“Not purple, dear,”
Mrs. Marchant pointed out. “It is nearly white, just tinged with violet at the heart. You can slip upstairs and change your gown if you don’t think it suits.”
Meanwhile she held the orchid up to her own pomona green gown, which it suited very well. “The white rosebuds would look well with your blue gown, Tess.”

“Yes, I shall wear the white rosebuds,”
Tess said, and arranged them on her bodice. That would show Revel what she thought of his gift. She wore a scowl when they left the house, and was determined not to enjoy her evening one whit.

"By
Jove, I will be very happy to oblige Miss Marchant, Revel,”
Lord James said when Revel called to empty his budget. “This will make the lady smile on me more softly, eh?”

“I shouldn’t count on that, James.”

“Nor I.”
Lord James laughed. “I never met such a challenging lady. There is fire buried beneath the ice, you know. I like that. Her passion has been held in abeyance for too long. It needs only the proper fanning to flare into flame. It is not entirely cream-pot love that recommends Miss Marchant to me. I look forward to—”

Revel felt an unaccountable stab of anger. “To behaving with perfect propriety, cousin,”
he said brusquely. When had all this discovery of the fire beneath the ice taken place?

“Do I see discern a spark of green in your eyes, Revel?”
Lord James teased. “This promises to be an even more interesting evening than you indicated.”

“If you infer that I am dangling after Miss Marchant, you are quite mistaken. She is a friend and neighbor. I don’t want you pestering her with unwanted attentions.”

“If I sense they are truly unwanted, then naturally I shall desist. Paupers can be gentlemen, too. Very kind of you to drop by and warn me about Marchant. I say, you wouldn’t have a few quid to spare? They are becoming a tad persistent at the hotel.”

Revel left five pounds lighter in the pocket and with a growing annoyance with Tess Marchant. Now he would have to worry about James flirting with her, as well as Mrs. Marchant. His next stop was at Lady Corbeil’s, to admit his blunder.

She said angrily, “How dare Marchant come here without an invitation? I shall tell my butler to turn him off.”

“You forget, auntie, I invited him. Or he thinks I did. And the Marchants are close neighbors at Revel Hall.”

“If he brings that revolting Gardener widow with him
—
”

‘‘Oh, Lord! Don’t say such things, auntie. This evening promises to be bad enough without that.”

“I don’t even know why I have invited Mrs. Marchant and her daughters. I do hope you are not planning to make  a misalliance with some country wench, Revel. Are the gels pretty?”

“Dulcie is quite a beauty,”
he said. “She takes after Mrs. Marchant in looks.”

“But she is a very babe. Not even out.”

“They tell me she will make her bows next spring.”

“How about the elder daughter?”

“Rather handsome,”
he said grudgingly, “but a shrew. A managing, harping female.”

Lady Corbeil could only conclude that Revel was entertaining a passing fancy for the pretty Dulcie. She had no real fear that anything would come of it. He usually found some entirely unsuitable lady to honor for the duration of his annual visit to Bath.

It was only to his mother that Revel could speak the whole truth about the imbroglio, and she, as usual, was not entirely sympathetic.

“No wonder Tess is annoyed with you,”
she said. “It is unlike you to be so woolly-tongued, Revel. How did you come to invite Marchant to Hettie’s do?”

“He leapt to the wrong conclusion. Don’t you rip up at me too, Mama. I am in everyone’s black book. It will teach me to try to do anyone a favor. This evening promises to stand in memory as one of my darker hours.”

She felt a weakening stab of love to see him so gloomy. “Things are never as bad as we think they are going to be. I shall insist that Marchant join my table for whist. He’ll like that, and so shall I. He is the only player who can match me for skill. That will give you an hour’s respite to flirt with the ladies.”

“Truth to tell, I am tired of flirting with ladies, Mama. It is nothing but trouble.”

“When a man is tired of flirting, it is a sure sign he is ready to settle down in marriage,”
his mama said, and peered for his reaction.

“That brings its own problems,
n’est-ce pas!
Look at the Marchants.”

“Lyle Marchant is an old fool, dangling after girls at his age.”

“I had no idea how many people got hurt in these affairs. All the Marchant ladies are suffering—as
you
must have suffered, Mama,”
he added, with a gentle smile.

“If a man don’t plan to settle down, he should make sure his wife don’t love him. If you are beginning to find a conscience, Anthony, that is the best advice I can give you. Don’t make a love match unless you mean to settle down, or you will break the lady’s heart.”

“I cannot conceive of making any other sort of match.”

“Do you have a particular lady in your eye?”
she asked hopefully. Tess Marchant would do very well.

“No,”
he said quickly. Almost too quickly ...

“You will meet her one of these days. Ask Figgs to get my pelisse, Anthony.”

Figgs’s bulldog face peered around the doorjamb. “It’s ready. Can you put a wiggle on? I am due at the Hart for a game of cards.”

“Eavesdropping again, Figgs?”
Revel said.

“Yes, and I have something to add to your mama’s good advice, your lordship. If you sire any bastards, leave ‘em provided for.”

“And do not, under any circumstances, allow them into your home,”
Lady Revel added as Figgs threw her pelisse over her shoulders.

The party duly assembled that evening at Lady Corbeil’s handsome mansion on Saint James Parade. Any hope that Mr. Marchant would do the proper thing and stay away was soon extinguished. He arrived, alone, not ten minutes after his family. Both Lord James and Revel had arrived early, to be on hand to divert disaster. Lord James had been directed to stay away from Mrs. Marchant, and as Tess remained with her mother, he had to stay away from her, too. It was only Revel who stood with the Marchant ladies, making nervous chatter while they all kept their real attention on the door.

Mrs. Marchant felt her heart flutter when Lyle came in and looked around for her. He was still a handsome man, still virile and desirable. As soon as he found her, his gaze softened to adoration. It was Dulcie, ably abetted by Revel, who bridged the awkward moment. She darted forward to greet him.

“Papa! You came! I prayed that you would.”
She lowered her voice and said, “You
will
stand up with Mama, won’t you?”

“I shall if she’ll have me, and I’ll have a set with you, too, miss. Don’t you look fine as a star.”