Meredith frowned. “But the duke adored her. It was common knowledge among those of Society. I cannot imagine her ever doing anything to displease him.”
Trevor felt the familiar surge of pain overtake him at the stirring of this long-buried memory. “The morning of her funeral we quarreled bitterly. He demanded I remove her wedding band, informing me it was a family heirloom that had been worn by the wives of the dukes of Warwick for six generations. It was far too valuable and rare to rot in a crypt.”
Meredith gasped. He saw her glance down at her gloved left hand, then nervously hide it beneath her reticule. “I am sure he did not mean to sound so brutal. Yet his actions prove that the duke can be a hard, unsentimental man. He was wrong to deny you in your time of sorrow.”
Some of the coldness inside the marquess evoked by this bitter memory began to slowly fade. He had been crazed, nearly out of his mind with grief, and his father’s words had pushed him beyond civility. He had said unspeakable things, had vowed never to forgive and never to forget.
Yet perhaps it was time to consider letting go of the past, to look forward instead of back.
Trevor peered from beneath slightly lowered lids and watched Meredith fiddling with the elegant band of gold and diamonds she wore beneath her glove. “You need not worry. The ring you now wear was purchased from a jeweler on Bond Street the morning of our wedding.”
“And the other ring? The great heirloom?”
“Rests on Lavinia’s hand for all eternity, as it should.”
“I’m glad.”
He felt vindicated by her response. The battle with the duke had been one worth fighting and winning. A bit more of the pain of the past subsided, and Trevor’s mood changed. In the soft light that filtered through the carriage window, Meredith’s face took on an ethereal glow. She did not cast her eyes away or try to hide from the emotions he was sharing. Her gaze was direct and steady and intelligent.
She was also exceedingly attractive. She had worn a modest gown, appropriate for the manner of their morning call, with a high scooped neckline. The temptation was strong, oh so strong, to reach across and draw her into his lap, then settle her bottom on his thighs.
He would next bend his head and touch the tip of his tongue to the bare skin at the top of her cleavage, slowly stroking downward until her breasts swelled and firmed, until she lifted her head back and offered herself to him like a pagan goddess.
All manner of thoughts raced through Trevor’s head as a thick rope of desire twisted deep inside his gut. He fought the hunger, determined to master himself, to prove he could control the passion.
She blushed and smiled fleetingly, as if she somehow knew the lustful direction of his thoughts. He shifted his gaze, overcome with a sudden wave of protective feeling for her—and completely disgusted with himself when he realizedhewas still the one she needed protecting from.
Thirteen
Something changed during that afternoon carriage conversation. In the days that followed, the marquess was still rarely seen by his wife. She did not share his bed—yet. And when Meredith thought about the state of her marriage, she could ascertain no visible improvement.
Still, she felt more comfortable with her position as his wife and as marchioness, and her confidence and spirit began to renew. Trevor’s explanations for his behavior had been complicated and confusing, but he had succeeded in one very important area. She did not take his rejection so personally. It was a ridiculous notion, yet when examined within the context of their very unorthodox marriage, it made perfect sense.
“When the dancing begins tonight, will you follow your usual form and dance with no other man but your escort, the Duke of Warwick?”
The amused male voice that whispered in her ear was a familiar and welcome sound. “Jasper!” Meredith turned enthusiastically and embraced her brother warmly. “How wonderful to see you! And what a surprise. I thought a ball given by a stodgy, elderly member of thetonwas the last place I would find you.”
“We live but three doors away. It seemed utterly rude not to attend for at least a portion of the evening.” Jasper tossed his head and assumed a haughty manner. “Besides, a true gentleman must learn to be comfortable and accepted anywhere in Society, not only among his male companions.”
Meredith nearly dropped her fan at the statement. She was about to congratulate her brother on his amusing mimicry when she noticed he had not broken into a smile. In shock, Meredith determined he was serious.
Her fan immediately lifted to hide the grin that formed on her lips. This sober, mature countenance of Jasper’s would take a bit of getting used to, and while slightly affected, it was in many ways an improvement over the reckless, irresponsible behavior he’d exhibited in the past.
“Is Jason here also?” Meredith asked, looking past her brother’s shoulder to search for his twin. “I would like to greet him.”
“We arrived together, but he is off somewhere sulking.” Jasper sighed. “We agreed to allow ourselves only three hours in the card room, and Jason is angry because when the time limit was reached he was on a winning streak. It took me several minutes to pry him away without causing a scene. He was not at all pleased.”
Meredith cleared her throat, then coughed. But her astonishment did not easily vanish. Her brothers were now voluntarily limiting their time gambling? Was that truly possible? “I am pleased to discover you are both trying to master some self-discipline,” Meredith said slowly.
“It was actually Dardington’s suggestion.” Jasper smiled pleasantly and bowed low to an elderly couple who strolled near. Then he turned back toward Meredith to resume the conversation. “The marquess thought it was time we began to broaden our social horizons. And when he ascertained we had no wish to marry anytime soon, he advised us to attend as many functions as we could tolerate that would showcase the new crop of debutantes.”
“Really? To what end?”
“Knowledge, of course.” Jasper clucked his tongue as though it was a most obvious connection. “ ’Tis sound advice. Learning the subtle way to negotiate the marriage mart and those carefully laid traps set out by scheming mamas and desperate chaperons will stand us in good stead in the future. No sense getting caught in the parson’s mousetrap unless we are ready. Or nearly ready.”
“Wise advice,” Meredith retorted. Too bad the marquess had not followed it himself. Damnation! Meredith mentally shook her head. Must every conversation she had eventually lead back to the marquess and the state of her marriage?
With effort, Meredith retreated from the direction of her thoughts. “Have you and Jason been spending a great deal of time with Dardington?”
