The Gathering Storm (The Jacobite Chronicles Book 3)(67)

"But he can, Beth," Caroline pointed out gently. "Within the boundaries of the law, of course. If he wants to hit his wife, within reason, he can. You know that. Every woman does."

"Yes," said Beth, "I do. I'm sure Anne does, too, although she's too sweet-natured to think any man she loved would ever beat her for pleasure. I also know Richard. I just want to warn him that there will be consequences when he does hit her, that's all."

"When? You're really convinced he will, aren't you?"

"Yes," said Beth, "I am. But I know you don't believe me."

"It's not that I don't believe you, exactly," said Caroline. "I just don't see it as inevitable, as you seem to. I couldn't imagine anybody hitting Anne. I don't think she's done one provocative thing in her whole life. You're worrying too much."

"I hope so. But at the very least Anne will appreciate the gesture I'm making in throwing a party for her. And she'll know she has a friend in me, if she needs one."

"Where is the rich, influential man, anyway?" asked Caroline.

"Upstairs, dousing himself in cologne and despairing over whether to wear the lime green or the sulphur yellow, most likely," said Beth. "I'd better go up myself and start to get ready."                       
       
           



       

"And I'll go home and remind Edwin that we're to be here at seven. He forgets everything now if it isn't about politics or Freddie. It's nice that he's starting to see the fruits of his labours, but it's hard sometimes to see so little of him. I'll see you later. And I'll let Anne know she has a friend in me as well. After all, my family are peppered with enough impressive titles to make Richard's eyes pop, even if they don't bother with me much, Aunt Harriet excepted. Although they are softening a bit, now Edwin's on the rise. Apparently cousin John actually grunted good morning to Edwin the other day when they passed each other in Westminster."

"What's cousin John, then?" said Beth, walking Caroline to the door.

"A viscount. We've got one of everything in the family, from duke to black sheep."

"The black sheep being you," Beth said.

"Yes." Caroline smiled. "Every ancient family has to have one. I'm just following tradition. See you at seven."



The dinner was a great success, as Caroline had predicted. The food was excellent, the wines expensive, the servants obsequious. Sir Anthony wore neither lime green nor sulphur yellow, but russet velvet, and the conversation sparkled as far as was possible given the qualities of the guests, which consisted of the entire Cunningham family, Lord and Lady Winter, Thomas Fortesque and his daughter, and the Harlows.

Anne, in the difficult position of being still within the mourning period for her late husband, whilst at the same time celebrating her recent marriage to her present one, had chosen to wear a soft dove-grey silk. Her burgeoning waistline was concealed by the hooped skirt, and she was radiant. There was no other word to describe her. She radiated happiness and good health, and had from the moment she entered the house and accepted Beth's congratulations by enfolding her in a warm, if awkward embrace, due to the voluminous skirts both women were wearing.

At the table, Beth utilised the espionage skills Alex had taught her, watching Anne carefully whilst effortlessly maintaining a vacuous conversation with Isabella and Clarissa regarding the rain which had fallen almost without pause during their stay in Manchester, and half-listening to the conversation at the other, male dominated end of the table, which was turning to politics and the war in Flanders.

No, she thought after half an hour of intense if subtle observation, Richard hasn't been cruel to her yet. True, he was not showing obvious signs of helpless infatuation as Anne was, blushing every time she mentioned his name, and casting demure glances at him from under her eyelashes every few minutes, but Beth would not expect any man to show slavish infatuation in public. Except Sir Anthony of course, who did it for effect when the need arose. But when Anne caught Richard's eye he returned her smile, and when she needed to leave the room for a few minutes he escorted her to the door with the utmost consideration. He even waited for her and led her back to her chair, tenderly kissing her hand before returning to his seat, which caused a little flutter of romantic sighs from the other ladies, Caroline and Beth excepted.

If Caroline was too practical to sigh, Beth was too stunned by this loving gesture. She had expected at best that he would be friendly towards his wife, vaguely attentive when the need arose. And at worst she had expected him to be indifferent, and to see signs of anxiety in Anne, a need to please born of fear rather than love. But she saw none of this, nothing other than a genuinely warm regard, affection even, on Richard's part, and complete infatuation on Anne's.

She ignored the I-told-you-so glance thrown down the table at her from her husband, who knew exactly what she was up to, and instead watched Richard as he ate his soup. He looked up suddenly as though aware of her scrutiny, and their eyes met. Instantly she smiled, conjuring up an expression of such sisterly warmth for him that he was, for a moment, completely flummoxed. Something dark flickered in his eyes, and then he smiled back at her before returning his attention to his plate.

For the first time then, she saw him as others did, saw that he was indeed quite a handsome man, with an athletic build, tanned skin, dark eyes and hair. His face was lean, with none of the plumpness of cheek and double chin which marred Edward's otherwise similar looks. She could still see brutality in the hard planes of his face, and in the habitual tightness of his mouth, but she also saw how irresistible that would be to women, who were attracted to the untamed quality of such men. She herself found that hint of ruthlessness and wildness deeply compelling in her own husband. Anne, and other women, would interpret this quality in Richard as a sign of strength and authority rather than of cruelty and vindictiveness as she, who had experienced it at first hand, did.                       
       
           



       

Had she imagined the smugness in his smile? She would give him the benefit of the doubt, for now. She had to; it was obvious that he had done nothing more than make Anne blissfully happy. She hoped it would long continue so.

"Will you go to the country to have your baby, Anne?" asked Caroline, when she had finished her soup. "It must be due very soon now."

"Not until April," replied Anne, blushing. "I have two months to wait yet. But I intend to stay in London now, and have it here. The midwife has already been arranged, and I am planning a nursery. The decorators will be coming next week." She glanced at Richard and smiled.

Was there a slight tightening of the skin around his eyes? A pursing of his lips?

"Yes," he said. "We have agreed that it would be better for Anne to be near her friends as the time approaches. I fear I will be recalled to Flanders before the child is born. I expect the summons any day, and it will give me the greatest relief to know she is surrounded by those who will care for her whilst I am away."

"Oh of course we will, Richard!" exclaimed Charlotte. "You can depend upon it!"

"Can't you defer your service until after the baby is born?" asked Caroline. "I'm sure if you explain the situation to your commanding officer he will understand."

"I am afraid that to generals, war takes precedence over everything else," said Richard. "Although my wife's safe delivery is a matter of the greatest importance to me, of course my commanding officer will see it in quite a different light."

"General Hawley is on excellent terms with my great-uncle Francis, if I'm not mistaken," Caroline persisted, observing Richard's smile become decidedly more forced as she continued. "He's an earl, you know. I'm sure I could ask him to put in a word for you if you want to stay at home for a while."

Edwin shot Caroline a puzzled look, but wisely forbore from commenting that as great-uncle Francis was one of the most outspoken and unwavering opponents of Caroline's marriage, the likelihood of him putting in a good word about anything at her request was remote to say the least.

"Oh no!" cried Anne, putting an end to Beth's anticipation as she waited for Richard's response to being forced into a corner. "I wouldn't hear of it! Richard is to take up his new commission, and needs to make the best possible impression. It would do his career no good if General Hawley thought him to be unreliable in his duty." He gave her a look of inexpressible gratitude, and she smiled. "It is quite enough to know that his thoughts and affection will be with me, and that I have good friends who will call on me occasionally while he is away."

"Of course we will," Beth said. "You can count on my support and help in anything at any time at all, you know that. I am always here for you." She cast a warning look in Richard's direction, but he was watching Anne, and his expression was, unbelievably, one of the deepest regard.