Grace bit her lip. ‘We cannot all marry for love, like you, dear Harriet,’ she said.
Harriet met her eye. There was such sadness in her expression that it gave Grace pause. Could her friend’s concern be justified? Was she really heading into danger and misery? She was about to ask Harriet when the dressmaker bustled in with a froth of lacy undergarments.
‘These will be essential additions to your trousseau and make your wedding night one to remember. They are guaranteed to inflame your husband’s passion,’ said the woman with a grin, holding up a diaphanous concoction of cream silk, ruched under the bosom and extremely low-cut.
‘What passions?’Grace wanted to say, but she bit her tongue. ‘I am not sure I want to inflame anything, Mrs Frederick.’
‘Feel how smooth and sleek the silk is,’ said the dressmaker, looking nonplussed. ‘Feel how the hand slides over it.’
It was lovely, but Grace shuddered to think what Rawden was like when aroused. His kiss had left her breathless and weak-kneed. She could not cope with more. ‘Have you nothing more practical?’ she asked.
‘Practical? Nonsense!’ shrieked the woman. ‘Such a beauty you are, and with an exquisite figure. You should not hide it. The petticoat is perfect for you.’
‘But there is not much of it, and you can see right through it.’
‘That is rather the point, is it not? But I will go and find some thicker ones if you like,’ sniffed the dressmaker, hurrying off with a scowl at them both.
‘I think you have offended Mrs. Frederick, Grace,’ said Harriet, chewing on a nail. ‘Yet she is right, you know. You must have some excitement on your wedding night. Mama told me that with the right petticoats, a man can be eating out of your hand in no time.’ She blushed and looked down at her feet. ‘It is what she said anyway, and as you have no mama, I am passing her advice on.’
‘You think I should wear all that nonsense?’
‘You may do with it what you will. And I have to be frank, Grace. I do not think any amount of petticoats will tame Rawden Voss.’
Grace swallowed hard. Harriet was right. He was untameable, yet she was gripped with a desire to know more about him. There was no one to ask, though.
Harriet sighed. ‘Oh, poor you, with no mother to advise and comfort you. Mama did ask me to pass on some advice. In fact, she was most tiresome and insisted on it, however mortifying for me. She said that whatever your husband does abed, just pretend to enjoy it.’
‘And if I do not?’
‘Endure silently, with a smile on your face.’
‘She really said that?’
‘Oh yes, and might I ask an impertinent question?’ said Harriet. ‘All this haste to marry is rather perplexing. Forgive me, but you are not with child, are you?’
‘Oh no, quite the opposite.’ Grace hesitated. ‘In fact, I will tell you a secret. This is a marriage in name only. Rawden is doing this to fulfil his vow to his brother and has sworn never to touch me. We have an arrangement. So you see, all that lace and silk is a waste.’
‘I see,’ said Harriet with a frown.
‘Yes. So as to my undergarments, I would rather have something practical and comfortable.’
‘Beware, for it is a man’s nature to say one thing and do the opposite. But if he is in earnest, then I approve of your arrangement with Rawden Voss,’ said Harriet, with more insight than she usually displayed but with a bitter edge to her words. ‘It is more civilised than I would have expected of him. But surely, you will one day want children, or he will? The production of an heir is every wife’s duty, no matter how onerous to one’s person.’
‘Rawden said he would give me a child if I ask him, but he will not press me on the matter. And I suppose I might want a child one day, but I must cross that bridge when I come to it.’
‘And that day will come soon if you wear this,’ said Mrs. Frederick, with an encouraging leer, as she swept back in and presented a scarlet petticoat embellished with little black bows.’
Harriet looked down her nose at it and shook her head. ‘Goodness, Mrs. Frederick, you cannot be in earnest. Why, even Lady Hamilton would have blanched at wearing that,’ she said.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Black clouds suffocated the blue sky on Rawden’s wedding day, threatening a storm. It seemed like a bad omen, as if God was rebuking him for doing the right thing instead of praising him.
In a flurry of impatience to get it over with, Rawden rushed from his carriage into Charles Howden’s Grosvenor Square house and barked at the hapless Dawson to fetch his bride and her uncle. The man gave a nervous smile and rushed to do his bidding, and so he should, since he had been paid a tidy sum to spy on Grace’s every move, thus becoming an ally in Rawden’s campaign to get his own way. It was money well spent. He had been able to ambush Grace in the park and force her to see sense because of Dawson giving away her location for the day.
Rawden smoothed back his hair nervously and straightened the tunic on his Life Guards uniform. He was soon to be discharged from that duty, but he wanted to wear it one last time in honour of William. With great effort, he banished his brother from his thoughts and hardened his heart. This was no time for sentiment and nostalgia.
After an age, his bride appeared.‘Like an angel from heaven,’he thought as he watched her descend the stairs in a stunning pale gown, shimmering as she moved and set off by an ochre coat embroidered with gold thread. The whole ensemble made her look as though she was glowing. Rawden could see nothing else but the pretty young woman gliding gracefully towards him. The sight of Grace warmed him like a shaft of sunlight bursting from behind a cloud, bringing with it a sudden pang of regret and a twist of pity in his gut.
