Two Wrongs Make a Marriage. Christine Merrill

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СКАЧАТЬ mother tapped her hand with an ivory fan, then replaced it on the haberdasher’s counter. ‘You are thinking about him again, aren’t you?’

      ‘No, Mama.’

      Her mother smiled knowingly. ‘Of course you are. When you try to conceal your feelings, my darling, you are as transparent as glass. But you have no need to hide these. It is only natural to think of such things, when one is young and in love …’

      ‘Do not put too fine a point on it, Mother,’ Thea said firmly. ‘You know my reasons for seeking him out and they have nothing to do with love.’

      Her mother cast a sidelong glance in her direction. ‘Judging by his speech to us when we discovered you, you’ve charmed him. He was most fulsome in his praise. And I have seen the way he looks at you since.’

      Her mother was right in that, at least. Her betrothed bathed her in respectful but doting attention, taking her driving in Hyde Park, escorting her to the opera and behaving as though they had known each other for years and not days. She should be flattered. She was flattered—and excited—by his attentions, but they also filled her with a strange combination of guilt and unease. At last, she blurted, ‘That is just the problem, Mother. Why does he behave so? I have done nothing to earn even a jot of his affection.’ Anyone who had been in town for any length of time had at least formed suspicions about the Banester family, its eccentricities, profligacy and rumoured bugbears. But it seemed Lord Kenton was too new to the country to know why they could not marry. Or perhaps he was too rich to care.

      Her mother gave a quick scan of her body and toyed with the lace on her own bodice. ‘You have inherited certain assets that make even strong men malleable. When I was your age, I had admirers aplenty. When I performed, half the young lords of the day threw roses on the stage and the rest sought out my changing room. But then I met your father …’

      ‘No stories, please.’ Thea dropped the lace in her hands and put them over her ears to forestall any more of her mother’s ridiculous anecdotes about the ardent courtship of young Sir William. Her mother’s previous career was not quite a secret amongst the ton. But it had taken all her charm and much of Father’s money to make the truth fade into insignificance. Now that the fortune was gone, they could not afford to have the old scandal resurrected.

      ‘Very well.’ At forty, her mother’s pout was every bit as pretty as a girl half her age. ‘But allow me some pride. If you have charmed Kenton without effort, it shows that the apple has not fallen far from the tree, no matter how we wished to change your nature.’

      ‘I am no actress, Mother. I have no desire to dazzle the man with illusion.’ It was why she had brought the gun. Using a weapon had not been fair, but at least it had been cold, hard and real.

      Her mother sensed her weakening and took up the fan again to give her another tap on the wrist. ‘Do not waste time feeling sorry for him, Thea. A gentleman should have seen the risks of taking a young lady out in the garden alone. What happened to him after was his own fault.’

      ‘Perhaps he is not quite right in the head,’ Thea suggested. That made more sense to her than his sudden, willing attachment. ‘His behaviour has been rather odd, has it not? So many men seem to return from India with tales of fever and malaise. But he is tanned and hardy.’ And very handsome, if Thea truly wished to be honest.

      ‘His complexion indicates nothing more mysterious than a strong constitution,’ her mother replied. ‘It guarantees virility, which you will appreciate soon enough, if you do not already. If the kiss I interrupted was any indication …’

      ‘Mother!’

      Her mother gave her an innocent smile and laid a finger to her lips to indicate a shared secret. She had been hinting since the first night that she had caught more than a brief glimpse of the way Kenton had behaved and the eager way Thea had responded to him. Her approval was no more maternal than Thea’s response had been maidenly. It was all very inappropriate.

      ‘I meant,’ she corrected, returning the conversation to a safer topic, ‘that Kenton’s stories of his travels are almost too grand to believe. All wild adventures, narrow escapes, tigers and tea.’ And, more worrisome, he spoke of bejewelled ladies and hinted at romantic escapades while veiling the details with Oriental silk. The stories were very exciting, but she’d had more than her fill of exaggerated anecdotes from her mother. She should have learned better and sought something more mundane in a marriage partner. Instead, she was sighing over Kenton like the silliest girl in London. ‘If his life was as wonderful as it seemed, then what brought him home?’

      ‘I expect it was his father,’ her mother answered. ‘The Earl of Spayne is seldom in town, though he lives only a county away. His health is rumoured to be failing. He could not have been comfortable with his heir spending half a lifetime away from home. Continental education and exotic travels are quite all right, but they should be taken in moderation.’

      Thea raised an eyebrow at the disapproval in her mother’s voice. It was a rather parochial sentiment from a woman who’d spent her formative years in a travelling band of players. ‘I merely wonder if he exaggerates the happiness of his past. He seems a most contented fellow. Perhaps he is simply choosing to ignore or forget some hardship.’ Or else he was too stupid to understand the things that had befallen him. Her pathetic attempt at kidnapping had made no impact on his mood, unless one could count this total and inexplicable infatuation.

      Even more frustrating was her illogical desire to believe him. Before forming her recent plan, she had thought herself immune to his looks and charm. She had managed to resist them the better part of the Season. It had been easy when she could keep a distance from him. In close quarters, his speeches inflamed her curiosity and she’d become a rapt listener.

      And his kisses inflamed something else entirely. Had she ever thought that her first kiss would be accompanied by reverent and impassioned poetry? She did not dare to share the details with her mother, who was already too willing to give her advice on the matter, based on the scene she’d witnessed. Thea could imagine the frank response she would receive if she announced that the man she intended to marry had heaped praise on her breasts and demonstrated his approval of them so strenuously that her heart had almost hammered its way out from under them.

      Of course, then she might learn if all men kissed as Kenton did. His lips had been as hot as the Indian sun and had left her just as dazed. She did not really need a husband for anything other than the fortune he possessed, but she could not help but be a little grateful that he offered so much more.

      She felt another prod from the fan. ‘And you are gone again. Really, my dear. I said it was normal to be so distracted, but that did not mean I encouraged it. You must keep your wits about you when you meet the man’s family. Perhaps you did not realise that Kenton’s uncle is Mr Henry de Warde. If you could manage to make him aware of the difficulty he’s placed us in …’

      ‘The idea had crossed my mind,’ Thea said, all thoughts of romance fleeing from her mind. ‘It will be a challenge not to tell him what I really think of him, when next I see him face to face.’

      ‘You must exercise diplomacy, my dear. And perhaps just a touch of the charm you used to snare Kenton.’

      Thea thought of the pistol, which must still be tucked between the cushions of the gazebo bench, unless Kenton had retrieved it for her after Mama had hustled her away. ‘If I am given the chance to make my case to Mr de Warde, I shall use persuasion even stronger than that.’ She would gladly put a ball between the man’s beady eyes if it meant that she could restore even a fraction of the money that he had swindled from her father.

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