"I adore him," she said. "And he adores me."
"Ah," he said, gazing at her with his inscrutable eyes. "Quite so."
The tension was almost too much to bear. What a bouncer she had just told. And if he believed it, she was going to look that much more pathetic in a few days' time after she had been abandoned. She leaned across the table, her eyes sparkling with merriment.
"Have you heard about our first encounter in Bath?" she asked him. "Or rather about our first two encounters. They are inextricably linked. If you have not heard yet, someone is bound to bring up the matter this evening. I had best tell you myself now."
He looked slightly pained. "I have a feeling," he said, "that it might be something I would rather not know about."
She laughed and told him about the misunderstanding in Sydney Gardens, about her punching the Marquess of Hallmere in the nose and his neglecting to insist upon telling her what had really happened.
"Of course," she added, "I did not know his identity at that time or he mine. He refused to believe that I was a duke's sister because I had no chaperone with me."
"It is very clear," Wulfric observed dryly, "that you were behaving perfectly normally."
She proceeded to describe the scene in the Pump Room the following morning, complete with all the gruesome details.
"You are to be commended," Wulfric said when she had finished. He sounded rather weary. "You must have provided Bath society with enough conversation to last a week, Freyja. And then, just when it was dying down, you refreshed it with that unexpected announcement at the assembly. Now that you have described the commencement of your acquaintance with Hallmere, of course, it makes perfect sense to me that the two of you would have fallen head over ears for each other and you would have decided upon a life's commitment to each other in the course of a single waltz." He sighed and set down his knife and fork.
Freyja wondered what he would have to say if she were to describe her first encounter with the marquess outside of Bath.
"Are you going to be happy in this marriage, then?" he asked.
Sometimes-just occasionally-one had a sudden glimpse into the humanity of Wulfric. Not often. If he had feelings, he almost never displayed them. If he had dreams or secrets or personal concerns, he never shared them. She often wondered about his relationship with his mistress-if it was strictly business, serving only the obvious function. But sometimes, for the merest moment, there came the shocking realization that perhaps he cared for them all, not just as brothers and sisters who were his responsibility, but as persons whom he might love.
She had one of those stabbing glimpses when he asked his question. And she did something horribly ignominious. Her eyes filled with tears.
"Yes, I am," she said fervently, leaning a little toward him across the table. "Yes, we are."
And then she swallowed and heard a nasty gurgling sound in her throat as she remembered that what she had just said with such uncharacteristic emotion was all a lie.
She almost wished that she really were betrothed to the Marquess of Hallmere and that she really were in love with him and looking forward to a lifetime of happiness with him. She wanted to be able to give her happiness as a gift to Wulf, who, she suddenly thought, was quite probably a lonely man.
"I suppose, then," Wulfric said, setting his napkin on the table and leaning back in his chair, "I had better give my blessing to this match, Freyja, for what my blessing is worth. It is rather akin, I daresay, to shutting the stable door after the horse has bolted."
There was still food left on Freyja's plate, but she had lost interest in it. She pushed the plate away. She felt wretched. She was impulsive and headstrong and frequently indiscreet, but she was unaccustomed to lying to Wulf or anyone else in her family. She was so far into this deception business, however, that there was nothing else to do now but go forward with it until it ended. Fortunately that would be soon.
"Hallmere had better come back to Lindsey Hall with us unless he has some pressing obligation elsewhere," Wulfric said. "We will need to present him in the neighborhood and celebrate your betrothal properly. And we will need to make plans for your wedding."
Freyja suddenly wished she had not eaten at all.
CHAPTER X
Lady Potford's home on Great Pulteney Street was filled with guests on the evening of the betrothal party. She had opened the drawing room, her private sitting room, a salon, and the dining room in order to accommodate all her guests. Each room blazed with the lights of many candles. The long table in the dining room with its crisp white linen cloth was covered with dishes laden with a wide variety of appetizing foods. Two footmen hovered to help guests make their selection and fill their plates. Others carried large trays of filled glasses from room to room.
Lady Potford was, as she had told Joshua and Freyja numerous times and the Duke of Bewcastle once during her morning stroll with him in the Pump Room, more than delighted by the happy turn of events.
"I was dreadfully afraid," she had told Joshua, "that you would drift on as you have drifted for the past several years, tasting the ephemeral pleasures of life without realizing that there is an even greater pleasure to be had from fulfilling one's appointed role in life and from forming one's own family. You will go back to Penhallow after marrying Lady Freyja and set up your nursery there and see to the administration of your estate and the well-being of your people. She is just the bride for you, Joshua. I am very happy."
"I have an able steward, Grandmama," he had pointed out to her, "and I keep in constant communication with him." Jim Saunders was, in fact, the one person who always knew where he was. "Lady Freyja may prefer to live in London-or she may not," he conceded.
All the guests appeared happy too. It was not often that there was an event of such a dazzling nature to celebrate in Bath-and involving two such illustrious persons as a marquess and a duke's daughter. There was a great deal of merry conversation and laughter in every room.
The Marchioness of Hallmere, clad regally in a black satin gown with tall black hair plumes, appeared as happy as anyone. She smiled with sentimental joy at anyone who greeted her and occasionally dabbed at a happy tear with her black-bordered handkerchief. She kissed the air close to Freyja's cheek and took Joshua's face between her two hands before kissing him tenderly and assuring him and everyone else within earshot that his dear departed uncle would be proud of him tonight.
And then she sought out the Duke of Bewcastle in the drawing room.
"I am gratified and relieved that you saw fit to come to Bath at such short notice, your grace," she said, presenting him with her hand.
He took it and bowed over it, though he did not carry it to his lips.
"Ma'am," he said.
"Lady Freyja has taken Bath society by storm," she said. "She is such a sweet young lady."
His grace inclined his head in acknowledgment of the strange compliment, his silver eyes flat and quite unreadable.
"One can only hope," she said, "that she will be as happy as she deserves to be."
"Indeed, ma'am," he agreed with chilling hauteur.
"And one can only hope," she said, dabbing delicately at one eye with her handkerchief, "that Joshua did not rush into this betrothal simply for a lark."
The ducal eyebrows arched slightly, but he did not ask the question she clearly expected him to ask in the pause that succeeded her words.
"He is the dearest boy," she said with a deep sigh. "It was always impossible not to love him despite all his mischief. He was devoted to his cousins, especially Constance, my eldest girl, to whom you were presented in the Pump Room this morning."
The duke inclined his head again.
"But he acquired what the late Hallmere referred to as cold feet when he was on the verge of offering for her five years ago," she said, "and ran away to amuse himself on the Continent, though why he would go there when there was a war on I cannot imagine. It became clear to me after my dear husband's passing that he was still too embarrassed and ashamed to come home, and so I came here. It was soon obvious that the attachment between Joshua and Constance was still very much alive, but foolishly-parents can be very foolish, your grace, when they wish for nothing more than the happiness of their children-foolishly I pressed the match on them instead of allowing the courtship to take its natural course. It was my dearest wish that their betrothal be announced during last week's ball in the Upper Rooms, and I was under the distinct impression that it was Joshua's dearest wish too. But then he dashed off to waltz with Lady Freyja, that mischievous, reckless look in his eye that I recognize so well, and at the end of the set he had Mr. King announce his betrothal to her."