Part 10 (1/2)
He turned to Lucinda. ”I believe I'll join the faro table. There is an open seat.” He bowed to her, then nodded to Campbell. ”Good evening.”
For the next few hours, he played without cease, tossing back gla.s.s after gla.s.s of brandy. Lucinda watched him from the other side of the room, but he didn't care. They were finished.
Campbell was a more visible irritant. He joined the table next to Jack's, talking behind his hand to the gentlemen on his right and left, glancing frequently at Jack.
The details of Jack's marriage would be all over town tomorrow, d.a.m.n it, along with the story of Fiona' s ”abilities.” While no one would believe it, they would unconsciously be on the lookout for signs.
What a b.l.o.o.d.y mess. If he kept Fiona in seclusion, the rumors would only grow. The only answer was to present her to society quickly, and make her known. Which meant he would have to attend all the boring, bland affairs he studiously avoided.
d.a.m.n it all. He was just beginning to realize how much his lifehad changed.
The bright sunlight awakened Fiona, and she opened her eyes to an unfamiliar room. Ah, yes. She was in London. With Jack.
But the bed was empty. She sat up uncertainly and looked at the clock. Nine o'clock. And no Jack.
Blast him. She threw aside the cover and scooted to the edge of the bed. The movement tickled her aching muscles, reminding her of how heavenly making love with him had been.
She swung her feet over the edge of the bed, hugging a pillow to herself. Heavenly.
Now she had to face the other realities of her marriage, namely her absent husband.
”This will not do,” Fiona announced. ”I did not come to London to sleep by myself.”
She slid from the bed, her bare feet sinking into the thick rug. Her clothes lay on the floor, a puddle of muslin and silks topped with her boots. She scrunched her nose; if she put her gown back on, it would be a wrinkled mess. Still, she had little choice. She gathered her clothes and went to the washbasin on a stand in the corner. She washed as well as she could and dressed, then put up her hair.
She crossed to the door and flung it open, then stood, listening, trying to discern where she might find some breakfast. She could hear the rumble of carriages outside, the shout of a coachman, dogs barking, vendors shouting their wares-all the normal street noises of a city. She also caught the faint murmur of voices inside and came out onto the landing, smoothing her gown as best she could.
She had just taken the first step down when a plump lady dressed in the neat gray and white of a housekeeper came into the foyer below. Fiona recognized her from the night before and said, ”Good morning.”
The woman stopped dead in her tracks, her face instantly folding into disapproval.
Fiona paused. She had done nothing to merit such a look. It was almost as if the woman- Realization dawned. Jack hadn't introduced her to the servants when they'd arrived last night; he'd
carried her into the house and straight upstairs to his room. They must all think she was a ladybird. Fiona's hands fisted at her sides. Blast Jack for leaving her alone! Well, she'd just have to deal with it herself.
Head held high, Fiona descended the stairs. She nodded pleasantly to the housekeeper. ”I am looking for Lord Kincaid.” The woman's chin lifted. ”If he didn't tell you where he was going, then 'tis none of your concern.” Fiona's back stiffened. ”I beg your pardon, but itis indeed my concern. He is my husband.” The housekeeper gawked.”What?” Fiona didn't think she could have shocked the woman more if she'd announced she had just grown another head. ”I am Lady Kincaid.”
A door at one side of the foyer opened, and a tall man emerged from a side room, a neat swath of linen
folded over his arm. ”Mrs. Tarlington, I believe this is-” He stopped when he caught sight of Fiona.”Oh, I am sorry. I did not see-forgive me, Miss-?” ”Lady Kincaid.” The butler blinked, then bowed. ”Good morning, my lady. I am Devonsgate, his lords.h.i.+p's butler.” ”It is a pleasure to meet you,” Fiona said. ”I am looking for his lords.h.i.+p. Do you know where he might be?”
Mrs. Tarlington sniffed but didn't say anything more.
Fiona gave the plump housekeeper a stern look before turning back to the butler. ”His lords.h.i.+p went out last night shortly after we arrived. I thought he would be home before now, but he is not. Unless he is taking breakfast?”
The butler cleared his throat. ”His lords.h.i.+p doesn't take breakfast. At least, not before noon, and only if he arrives home in time, which he didn't.”
”I see,” Fiona said.
”Yes, my lady. It is not unusual for his lords.h.i.+p to stay out all night.”
That would have to change; she could not imagine that such behavior was healthy.
She frowned, catching sight of herself in one of the large mirrors that flanked the hallway. Her gown was hideously wrinkled, her hair barely contained with her few pins, her face flushed. It dawned on her that the gown she wore was the only one she possessed.
She turned her gaze to the butler. ”Before he left, did his lords.h.i.+p make any arrangements for me?”
”No, my lady. He just called for his carriage and left.” The butler gave her an apologetic look. ”Usually when his lords.h.i.+p has aguest, he will tell us she is not to be disturbed and to see to it that she arrives home safely. He did not make such a request in your case.”
”Mrs. Tarlington, please send a bath to my chambers and have someone come help me with my hair and gown. I was forced to leave my home in a hurry and did not bring anything else with me, so I shall need to have this gown cleaned and pressed.”
The housekeeper's lips thinned, but Fiona turned to the butler. ”Devonsgate, please send a tray to my room. Just tea and toast will do.”
”Yes, madam. Will there be anything else?”
”Yes. I wish to send a note to his lords.h.i.+p. Do you know where he might be?”
The butler's expression froze. ”I might be able to locate him,” he said cautiously.
”Excellent. Pray send him this message. Tell Lord Kincaid that hiswife wishes him to come home, and if he does not make an effort to do so soon, she will come and fetch him.”
Devonsgate paled, but for the first time, Mrs. Tarlington's wide mouth split in a reluctant grin.
Fiona turned back to the stairs. ”I shall expect the bath and the maid immediately. Breakfast can wait until after that.” She paused, one foot on the bottom step. ”Actually, make that breakfast for two. I am certain his lords.h.i.+p will waste no time in returning home.”
Thatshould set a precedent of no small order. Feeling better, Fiona walked briskly up the steps.
Mrs. Tarlington said, ”Well, I'll be! His lords.h.i.+p has a wife!”
Devonsgate stared up the stairway after Fiona, his mouth agape.
Chapter Eight.
Don't think the MacLean was not affected as well. He was. He took one look at the White Witch, and he tumbled head over heels. MacLeans are like that, ye know. They only love once, but och! What a love that is!
OLDWOMANNORA OFLOCHLOMOND TO HER THREE WEE GRANDDAUGHTERS ONE COLD NIGHT.
”My lord?”
Jack looked up at a footman who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. ”Yes?”
”My lord, I have a message for you.” The footman glanced about the table, then back to Jack.