The Proper Way to Stop a Wedding, page 8
And wasn’t that the saddest thing she’d ever heard? “I agree, although I should like to point out I was not the one who asked to dance with you.”
A corner of his mouth quirked upward in a wry half smile. “It appears I am not as strong as I would wish when it comes to you.”
The oddest lump formed in her throat.
“It shouldn’t be difficult, really,” he continued. “Katherine and I will either be in London or here at Danby Manor, whereas I imagine you will return to Bromwick Abbey.”
“Actually, I won’t be returning to the abbey. My aunt has invited me to come live with her in London and I think it’s time—past time, really—that I moved beyond the borders of my very narrow life to see what the rest of the world entails.”
His brow furrowed. “I see.”
“As Katherine and I have never been especially fond of each other, I daresay I won’t be invited to dinner regularly, if at all. And London is a very big place. I can’t imagine we will stumble upon one another unexpectedly. I do, however, intend to find a new bookstore to frequent,” she added quickly.
“That’s probably for the best.” He led her through an easy turn.
“I wish you would stop saying that,” she said without thinking.
“Saying what?”
“That it’s for the best.” Her tone rang sharper than she had intended. “I have done what’s for the best my entire life. But none of this feels for the best. In fact, it feels quite horrible.”
His hand tightened around hers. “And yet, we agree, we have no choice.”
“On the contrary, we have choices.” She blew a frustrated breath. “They are simply very bad choices. The kind of choices neither of us would be able to live with. The kind that would surely, eventually, destroy us.”
“As I said—” he smiled, a sad, wistful sort of smile “—we have no choice.”
They continued on in silence, moving to the music without conscious effort, in perfect step with each other. As if they had danced together always. As if whatever wicked gods ruled this sort of thing were pointing out just how much they were losing. And no doubt laughing. Would this dance never end?
“I find the silence between us to be worse than when we are saying things that we shouldn’t,” she said at last and summoned a brilliant smile. “The weather is delightful for this time of year. Don’t you agree?”
“I do indeed.” He chuckled. “But I daresay we can find something fairly innocent to talk about besides weather.” He paused. “Your aunt mentioned that your uncle is given to the pursuit of extraordinary adventures. If, as you said, you are to move beyond the borders of your life, do you foresee following your uncle’s example and having extraordinary adventures?”
“Now you’re teasing me.”
Henry gasped in feigned indignation. “Me? Never!”
She ignored him. “No, of course I can’t have extraordinary adventures like Uncle Charles. I am a woman after all. I don’t imagine I shall be exploring the jungles of Africa or searching for the remains of lost civilizations.” She thought for a moment. “But I suspect if one seizes opportunities when they are presented, life itself can be an extraordinary adventure.”
“Your aunt also said going down the road of life hand in hand with the one you love is an extraordinary adventure.”
Celia stared up into his dark eyes. No matter how innocuous their conversations began, they always drifted into dangerous waters. “I imagine it is, Henry, I imagine it is.”
Mercifully, the music finally drew to a close. She wanted—no, needed—to put distance between them. She stepped out of his arms at once, ignoring how incredibly difficult it was to do so. And ignoring as well the aching sense of loss sweeping through her.
“Celia.” Her name was a plea on his lips. Or a prayer. A desperate sort of resignation shone in his eyes.
Her throat tightened. “I believe I see my next partner,” she lied, peering around him. She clenched her fists and dug her nails into her palms. Any minute now, she would lose whatever self-control she still managed to cling to and dissolve into a whimpering puddle of sorrow right here in the middle of the ballroom. She summoned a bright smile. “If you will excuse me, Henry.”
She nodded and started off, feeling his gaze following her every step. Hopefully, she would soon lose him in the crowd and the mild chaos that blossomed between every dance with couples either stepping off the floor or taking up new positions. Celia had no idea who her next partner was nor did she care. She had no desire to dance at the moment. She needed a few minutes of respite to compose herself.
And she needed air. She snapped opened the fan that hung at her wrist. It was pointless. The room was overly hot and far too crowded and a feeble fan was of no good at all. Her blasted corset was probably too tight as well but then it always was. She made her way toward the terrace doors, propped open as a futile invitation to the fresh air outside.
She paused and looked back at the gathering. She didn’t see Henry, which hopefully meant he didn’t see her. She didn’t want him following her onto a darkened terrace. No, all she wanted was a moment to breathe. A moment alone to come to grips with the deep wrenching feel of sorrow and loss that wrapped around her very soul.
And shattered her heart.
CHAPTER TWELVE
EVEN AS CELIA disappeared into the milling crowd, Henry’s heart cracked with a pain that was almost physical. How could he let her walk away?
How could he do anything else?
He turned and wandered aimlessly through the crowd. He couldn’t go back on his word but perhaps there was another way out of this marriage. Maybe he should simply be honest with Katherine. They’d barely talked at all since her arrival at Danby, at least not privately. She and her aunt had been far too busy with preparations for the wedding and he’d been too busy realizing what a fool he’d been. But wasn’t it entirely possible that she, too, now understood what a mistake their marriage would be?
Henry spotted her about to dance with Mr. Jennings. Jennings owned a nearby estate and Henry had known the family all of his life. He made his way toward them.
“I beg your pardon, sir.” Henry smiled. “But I have not danced with my fiancée all night, so I was hoping—”
“Quite right, my boy.” The older man chuckled. “I am disappointed of course, but I know the way these things are.”
“I, too, am disappointed.” Katherine cast him a brilliant smile. “Another time perhaps.”
“I shall look forward to it. She is all yours, Henry. Miss Bromley.” Jennings nodded a bow to Katherine and took his leave.
“Thank God,” Katherine said with a sigh of relief. She stepped into his arms and they started into the dance. “I’m not sure I could take one more minute with yet another old letch who fancies himself a gift to women.”
“Mr. Jennings was a very good friend of my father’s,” Henry said mildly.
“Regardless, I found him—I find all of them—to be dreadfully unappealing.” She frowned and glanced around the ballroom. “There are a fair number of young suitable gentlemen here. Why is my dance card not filled with their names?”
“I have no idea, Katherine. I did not fill out your dance card but perhaps it’s because you are to be a bride in a few days and their dances are reserved for the more eligible ladies.”
“I suppose.” She huffed.
“Katherine,” he began, “I’ve been wanting to talk to you.”
“About what, Henry?” she said absently, her gaze still scanning the ballroom.
“I think everything has happened too quickly.” He braced himself. “I think we should postpone the wedding.”
Her gaze snapped to his. “What?”
“I wish to be perfectly honest with you.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Go on.”
“We barely know each other. And frankly, the more we are around one another, the more apparent it is that we do not suit.”
She frowned. “Don’t be absurd.”
“I think our marriage is a mistake.”
“Because we don’t know each other well?” She scoffed. “Good Lord, Henry. Getting to know each other is what marriage is all about. Why, most people scarcely know more than each other’s names when they marry.”
“Regardless, I think two people who are about to be wed should have something in common. And I get the distinct feeling you don’t particularly like me.”
“Nonsense, Henry, of course I like you.” She fluttered her lashes in a practiced manner. “Don’t you like me?”
“I don’t really know you.”
“We’re back to that again, are we?” She shrugged, managing to do so without so much as a tiny misstep. “I shall make you an excellent wife. You really don’t need to know more than that.”
“Even so—”
“You are everything I have ever wanted in a husband, Henry. Your family’s name and reputation are impeccable. Oh, certainly, Edward had a bit of fun in his youth but nothing society hasn’t already forgiven. Excellent breeding—quality—always shows. I couldn’t hope for more. Best of all, your brother is an earl and at the moment you are his only heir.”
Henry stared. “I do anticipate Edward will marry one day.”
“Until then, you are next in line to be the Earl of Danby. And who knows what might happen in the future. If anything were to happen to—”
“Katherine!”
“God forbid.” She sighed. “But the fact remains that you are next in line to be the earl. And if Henry doesn’t marry and have an heir, our son would be the next earl. I should like to be a countess—that should come as no surprise to you. Barring that, I wouldn’t at all mind being the mother of an earl.”
Shock held his tongue. He had no idea what to say.
“In addition, you are rather handsome.” She smiled pleasantly. “That will suffice for now. It is unfortunate about your finances—”
Henry frowned. “Have you been listening to gossip?”
She hesitated. “I have heard the rumors, of course.”
“I assure you, nothing you’ve heard is even remotely accurate.”
“Come now, Henry.” She cast him a pitying look. “I spoke to Edward. He told me everything.”
“Did he?” Henry said slowly. What was his brother up to? “What do you mean by ‘everything’?”
She studied him closely for a moment. Her eyes widened with understanding. “You don’t know everything, do you?” She shook her head. “Poor Henry. I never realized how difficult it must be to be the spare heir.”
He ignored her. “I do not intend to discuss matters of finance with you in the middle of a dance floor or ever. Even as my wife, my finances, and my family’s, are none of your concern.”
“Very well.” Her expression hardened. “But you did say you wished to be perfectly honest with me.”
He nodded.
“In the interest of perfect honesty, then, on my part anyway, let me say this.” A determined gleam shone in her green eyes. “Postponing this wedding is the first step toward canceling it altogether. I will not permit that. I much prefer to be the sister-in-law of an earl whose fortunes will surely reverse at some point than the daughter of a penniless viscount with no prospects whatsoever. If you are having second thoughts now, I would suggest it’s not uncommon for a groom as his wedding day approaches and indeed is to be expected.”
“I think this is a mistake.”
“Then it is one we shall live with,” she said sharply. “You asked my father for my hand, you asked me to marry you. I accepted you in all good faith. And I expect you to abide by your word.”
He stared down at her. “Don’t you want to be happy, Katherine?”
“My dear Henry.” She smiled up at him, a wicked, nasty sort of smile, and his stomach turned. “I fully intend to be.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
KATHERINE HAD AT least been perfectly honest.
Henry leaned against one of the gallery columns, a glass of whisky in his hand, and gazed unseeing at the crowd of friends and acquaintances. Everyone seemed to be having an excellent time. He doubted that aside from Ned and Celia, a single person here knew how very much the groom wished to cancel the wedding and how very determined the bride was to go through with it.
Henry now knew exactly where he stood with his bride-to-be. She had not only confirmed his suspicions but strengthened his desire not to marry her. Even if he’d never met Celia, this was a dreadful, horrible, irrevocable error in judgment. Something very much akin to panic simmered inside him.
Perhaps he and Celia should run off together. Go somewhere far away. Why not America? It did seem to offer considerable opportunity. Or anyplace where they could leave the past behind. But he would know he had broken his promise, and worse, she would know and she was right. Doing what they knew was wrong would eventually destroy them.
How could he possibly marry that woman?
How could he not?
Going back on his word went against everything he believed, everything he thought himself to be. Everything his father expected him to be. Ned was right. It was hard to be the good brother.
Had Ned heard the gossip about their finances? His brother really should be aware of that. And what on earth had he said to Katherine? Henry scanned the crowd but Ned was nowhere in sight. He signaled a passing footman.
“Have you seen his lordship, John?”
“Not recently, sir.”
“Then where did you last see him?”
“He was stepping out onto the terrace.” The young man paused. “But he was not alone.”
“Of course not.” Henry sighed and handed the footman his nearly empty glass. While Ned had accepted his responsibilities in recent years and put most of his scandalous ways behind him, he still could not resist an assignation with a lovely woman.
“It has been some time since then, sir,” John added.
Henry nodded and started toward the open doors. A voice in the back of his head noted he had not seen Celia since their dance. He glanced around the ballroom but couldn’t spot her pale blue gown. Perhaps she was simply out of sight. Or perhaps she had decided to retire for the night.
Or perhaps she was on the terrace with his brother?
Something vile and hard washed though him and his step quickened. How could Ned do this to him? Ned knew how Henry felt about Celia. Even if there was nothing Henry could do about it. Even if she was certainly free to be with someone else. Even if...
No, regardless of the circumstances, his brother would never attempt to seduce a woman Henry loved. His ire faded. Henry may well be the good brother but Ned was certainly not bad. A bit wayward perhaps. He’d always savored a good time and had never hesitated to break the rules of proper behavior. For the most part, that was in the past. Besides, if Henry trusted no one else in his life, he trusted his brother.
Of course, if Ned had encountered Celia and she was upset over her exchange with Henry, it was entirely possible Ned had tried to comfort her. Wrapped his arms around her as one might do to a friend in need. And if she then lifted her face to his, Ned might look into her remarkable blue eyes and forget—just for a moment—that Henry was in love with her. And he might lose himself in those eyes and press his lips to hers...
Absolutely not!
Ned was not so weak as that. Nor was he so thoughtless.
Henry stepped out onto the terrace and glanced around. There were several figures at the far end to his right. To his left, a flash of silk caught the starlight. Partially in the shadows, a female figure gazed out at the gardens. It might not be Celia but the closer he neared, the more certain he was that it was her.
“Celia?”
“Henry! What are you doing here?”
“Looking for you.” He paused. “You’re alone, then.”
“Of course I’m alone. Although you would be surprised at how many people wander out on this terrace who are not alone and are obviously looking for more than just a breath of—”
Before he could stop himself, before he even realized what he was doing, he reached out, pulled her into his arms and pressed his lips to hers. She braced her hands on his chest and he thought she meant to push him away. Instead, her hands fisted in the fabric of his coat and she pulled him tighter against her.
For a long moment he savored the feel of her mouth, soft and yielding beneath his. He relished in the taste of her, of strawberries and champagne and sunshine. She clung to him and he lost himself in a haze of sensation and need. Surely this was how a man must feel when he was drowning, buffeted by forces beyond his control, helpless yet welcoming the oblivion.
He knew the moment she came to her senses. Her lips against his stilled and she pushed out of his arms.
“Good Lord, Henry, what are you thinking?”
“I don’t know.” He ran his hand through his hair. “I haven’t been thinking since the moment I met you.”
“Apparently not, as you asked my sister to marry you.”
“True, but if I hadn’t I never would have found you again.” And wasn’t that a point in his favor?
“And a lot of good that does us.” Apparently not.
“I am well aware of that.”
“You kissed me, Henry.” She scowled at him as if he had done something truly horrible. When in fact it had been quite the most wonderful kiss of his entire life.
“I am aware of that, as well.” He paused. “Might I point out you kissed me back?”
