The Secret Pearl(65)

“I am serious,” she said, lifting a hand to trace the line of his jaw. “I had quite steeled myself to be strict, and you completely spoiled the effect.”

“What has the poor girl done?” he asked. “Allowed a bored guest to taste her lips? I gather Shaw is a lusty enough character, Sybil. Doubtless he was the seducer and she the seducee, even if she was enjoying what she was getting. And one can hardly fault his taste. She is a pretty girl.” He laughed at the look in her eyes. “Or would be to a man who is not besotted with you, of course.”

“Are you?” she asked, twining an arm about his neck.

“Besotted with you?” he said, the laughter dying from his eyes. “You know there has never been anyone but you, Sybil, and never could be.” He kissed her long and deeply.

“She is a woman of loose morals,” she said. “She really must go. I was shaking with the distress of having to dismiss her, but I did what I knew to be right.”

“She is Adam’s, you said?” Lord Thomas smiled at her as he eased her dress off one shoulder. “Let him amuse himself with her, Sybil. I can be persuaded to comfort you. Or are you jealous?”

“Of Adam?” she said, wide-eyed. “And a governess? I hope I think better of myself than to feel jealousy, Thomas. But I do not think it kind of him to conduct his debaucheries here.”

“Leave them alone,” he said. “And let Shaw have her too if he wants. And Brocklehurst. The two of them were strolling out on the back lawn and looked to be deep in conversation early this morning. Their tête-à-tête was interrupted by Adam.” He laughed. “Let Adam be preoccupied with guarding his hot little property. And I will be preoccupied with guarding you.”

“Oh, Thomas,” she said, throwing both arms about his neck and drawing his head down onto her shoulder, “it is not funny. There is no humor in this at all. What are we going to do?”

“Patience,” he said soothingly. “Something will turn up.”

“But what?” she said. “I am married to him. That can never change. Oh, why did you not take me with you when you left? I would have gone to the ends of the earth with you. You should have known that. I would not have cared.”

“I could not,” he said gently. “I could not have taken you out into the uncertainty of my future, Sybil, especially in your delicate condition. I could not do that to you. It would have been too cruel.”

“And it was not cruel to leave me as I was?” she asked.

“Hush,” he said. “All will work out, you will see. Does anyone ever walk through either of these unlocked doors unbidden?”

“No,” she said. “But don’t, Thomas. I’m afraid.”

“Don’t be,” he said, getting to his feet and gazing down at her. “We belong together, Sybil, and you know it. I shall lock the doors and then you may feel quite secure.”

He lay down beside her on the narrow daybed when his task was accomplished, and kissed her, drawing up the muslin skirt of her dress with one hand as he did so.

“Thomas,” she moaned, her fingers twining in his hair. “Oh, Thomas, it has been so long. I love you so.”

He kissed her again without replying.





HIS WIFE WAS BRIGHT-EYED AND APPEARED FEVERISH, the Duke of Ridgeway saw later that evening, although she was playing the game of charades with all their guests with a great deal of laughter and enthusiasm. The game had become decidedly bawdy as time went on.

The outing to Wollaston and the constant activity of the last several days, including the ball and the excitement over his brother’s return, were proving too much for her, though she was not admitting it, perhaps even to herself. But he knew her well enough to know that her fragile health could not take such a hectic pace of living for much longer without breaking down.

He wondered if it was obvious to all their guests that Sybil and Thomas were fonder of each other than one might expect of a sister- and brother-in-law. He supposed that it must be. Certainly Shaw had ceased his marked attentions to her and was directing his gallantries toward Victoria Underwood that evening.

The duke supposed that no one would be particularly scandalized even if they had noticed. As he had suspected before he came home from London, his wife’s guests were not a group renowned for propriety and restraint. Sidney had informed him earlier that a poor chambermaid had been bewildered to find Lady Mayberry in Grantsham’s bed that morning and Mrs. Grantsham in Mayberry’s.

He watched the scene about him rather grimly. Good breeding dictated that he continue to act the courteous and amiable host despite all. He could not possibly do what he dearly wished to do and get to his feet to make the public announcement that the gathering would be at an end the next morning.