He placed her glass on a table and caught her up, staying her with ahand on her arm. “I claim precedence,” he said. “What’s the matter?” Hestudied her features for a moment then said, “Ah, the dreadful prospect ofthe marriage bed. More maidenly modesty?” The familiar bitter edge wasback in his voice.
“That is surely not unreasonable?”
“It’s damned inconvenient,” he said, and she could tell the use of theworddamnedwas deliberate. “You will have to make up your mind,sweeting, whether you wish to be treated as a delicate bloom, to beprotected from all crudity, even the need ? especially the need ? tothink. Or whether you wish to be treated as an equal.”
“As an equal,” said Beth instantly. “But that surely does not disallowa little maidenly modesty, my lord. Does a man not suffer some qualmsbefore a new event? A duel, for example?”
He took her at her word. “I’m a virgin,” he said. “In the matter ofduels, that is. Is that how you regard our wedding night? Pistols attwenty paces?” The mischievous twinkle she was coming to know too wellentered his eyes. “Wrestling would be nearer the mark,” he murmured. “Or asword fight.”
Beth could feel herself color but knew she had no right to complain.She’d asked for this. “I hope,” she said, “that peace, not combat, willmark our marriage bed.”
He was serious again. “If you are as honest as you claim to be,Elizabeth, blood will mark our marriage bed. Blood is not usually aproduct of peace.”
If she had been pink before, Beth knew now she must be pale. His wordswere perfectly true and yet there was a hint of violence, and a reminderof his lingering doubts.
He sighed and took her hand. “I’m sorry. I’m not very good at this. Ihave been trained to treat women one way, and you are asking for somethingdifferent. No matter how much of a sturdy plant you wish to be, I think itwould be wiser for me to treat you as a delicate bloom for a little whileyet. You may be made of steel, but my nerves aren’t up to the strain.”
He led her into the ballroom where a county dance was in progress whichcould easily be joined. He wove them adroitly into the pattern.
“For a little while yet...” Until their wedding night was over, hercomposure ruthlessly reduced to wild lust, her blood spilt, his doubtsfinally satisfied.
Beth fixed a bright smile and surrendered to the mindlessness of thedance.
From then on he treated her with a warm courtesy which at the same timewas chillingly impersonal. Beth missed the brief moments of relaxedconversation but was willing enough to sacrifice them to avoid thequicksands.
Phoebe Swinnamer, too, seemed to have been routed and had all herattention fixed on the young Earl of Bolton who appeared to be as much ofa cold stick as herself.
This was some relief, but Beth still had the endless daily round ofentertainments at which she was always under curious scrutiny and mustalways appear to be a lover on the verge of marriage ? in the most politeand decorous way, of course.
The marquess occasionally escaped to a club or time with his friends,but Beth had no such relief. One night, to everyone’s amazement, she burstinto tears as they were about to leave for the theater. Simply because hewas closest, she found herself in the marquess’ arms.
He settled her on a sofa and kept an arm about her.“Maman,this has got to stop,” he said.
The duke and duchess shared a glance.
“Miss Armitage isn’t used to this way of life,” said the marquess.“It’s a strain on me, but it must be far worse for her, surrounded alwaysby strangers. It is less than a week to the wedding. Let her rest.Everyone will understand.”
“If she appears to be sickly . . .” said the duchess doubtfully.
“Is it any better for her to collapse in public than for her to miss afew events?”
By this time Beth had pulled herself together. “Please,” she said,quite touched by the marquess’ concern. “I am recovered now.”
“No, you’re not,” he said roughly. “You’re as white as a sheet and haveblack shadows under your eyes.” With a touch of humor he added, “You’redoing nothing for my reputation as a lover, you know. Go to bed and we’lltell the world you have a cold. Anyone can catch a cold.”
Beth took out her tiny lacy handkerchief and blew her nose. “I sound asif I have one,” she sniffed.
“Exactly,” he said, providing a much larger and more practical one.“Tomorrow you can receive some callers, sniff a lot, and retreat again. Ifyou rouge your nose a little to give it verisimilitude, it should gain youat least two days of peace and quiet.”
Beth couldn’t help it; she chuckled. “What a master of deceit you are,my lord,” she said. She felt the temperature immediately drop.
“Aren’t we all?” he replied coolly and rang the bell. Once she wassafely in the custody of her maid, the marquess, the duke, and the duchesstook their leave.
Beth was left lying miserably on her bed wondering how every moment ofharmony and kindness was soured. Was there any hope for them at all?
His plan did gain her the respite she needed, however. Beth spent twopeaceful days in her room, reading and resting. By the time she was“recovered” there were only two more days before the wedding and theduchess used that fact as a reason to curtail their social activities.
This did not leave Beth with time on her hands, for she was expected toassist the duchess in supervising arrangements and had final fittings forher wedding gown. Also, a bewildering number of relatives began to arrivein Town and all paid calls. The only good point was that the marquessexempted himself from these occasions, saying blithely that he’d known allthe old frumps from the cradle and had no need to be introduced. Beth wasconvinced that even if absence did not make her heart grow fonder, itprovided fewer occasions for discord.
