The Bartered Bride by Mary Jo Putney
A haughty butler opened the door. His expression changed comically when he saw Alex. “Miss Amy?” He groped for her correct name. “I beg your pardon, Mrs. Warren.”
With a smile, she swept Gavin and Katie inside a two-story-high atrium grand enough for a royal palace. “In person, Riggs. Are my aunt and uncle in residence?”
“Yes, and your parents also.” Looking dazed, the butler trailed after the new arrivals. “But…but…we thought…”
Before Riggs could sputter out what he meant to say, a well-dressed woman appeared at the railing of the upper level and looked down at the newcomers. Her graceful posture turned rigid. Then she cried, “Amy! Dear God in heaven!”
She raced down the lavish double staircase at breakneck speed, her black gown streaming behind her.
“Mama!” Alex darted toward the other woman. They met in a wrenching hug at the foot of the stairs, both of them weeping.
This was the intimidating Catherine? Gavin stared, understanding why Alex had found her alarmingly perfect. Alex must have been born when her mother was in the schoolroom, because Catherine looked not much more than forty now. Only a scattering of silver strands in her dark hair and fine lines beside her eyes revealed her age. The resemblance between them was pronounced, though Alex was a little taller and her demeanor suggested a more active, forceful temperament. Catherine’s face had a gentle, Madonna-like quality that must bring men to their knees.
Still crying, Alex stepped back and wiped her eyes. “Lord, I’ve missed you all so much.” Her gaze went over her mother, and she caught her breath. “You’re wearing mourning. Not…not the colonel or the children? Or Aunt Rosalind and Uncle Stephen and their children?”
Catherine laughed. “I’ve been wearing mourning for you and your daughter, Amy—sorry, Alexandra. I’m having trouble remembering what to call you.” She produced a handkerchief and wiped eyes the same rare aqua shade as those of her daughter and granddaughter. “I’ve never been so happy about a mistake in my life!”
Alex’s jaw dropped. “You thought we were dead? What did you hear?”
“Several months ago we received word through diplomatic channels that the Amstel was attacked in the Indies, and you both died.”
“The attack was chaotic, but certainly no one could have seen us killed.” Alex shook her head. “I’m so sorry. It never occurred to me that we’d be reported dead.”
Gavin knew why—the Amstel’s captain and crew hadn’t wanted to admit they’d abandoned a woman and child, so they’d reported deaths instead. Cowards.
“All that matters is that you’re safely home.” Catherine turned to Katie. “Surely this beautiful young lady is your daughter. Except for that wonderful blond hair, she looks just like you at that age.” She knelt for a hug. “I’m your grandmother, Katie, and I am so happy to meet my oldest grandchild.”
Kate hugged her with delight. “I’ve wanted to meet you my whole life, Grandmama.”
Catherine stood, her quizzical glance going to Gavin. Seeing that, Alex said, “Mother, this is my husband, Captain Gavin Elliott.”
Before she could finish her introduction, two men entered the hall from an unobtrusive door tucked under the sweeping staircase. Tall, distinguished, and in late forties or early fifties, they were clearly brothers. The man with more gray in his brown hair had shrewd eyes watching from a deceptively mild face. The younger brother was whipcord lean, with a commanding manner that would not accept fools gladly.
They swooped down on the returned prodigal and Alex disappeared into fervent embraces and incredulous cries of “Alex!” and “Dear God, we thought you were dead!”
Temporarily forgotten, Katie took Gavin’s hand. At sea himself, he squeezed her hand comfortingly and wondered what the devil he’d got himself into.
Katie whispered, “Who are all these people?”
“Your mother’s family, and they love her very much. As her daughter, they’ll love you just as much.” He was sure that would be the case; what normal person could not love Katie? He was less sure about how Alex’s randomly acquired husband would be accepted into a close and obviously wealthy family.
Laughing and crying, Alex emerged from the men’s embrace. “I’m sorry, I’m completely forgetting my manners. Mother, Colonel, Uncle Stephen, this is my husband, Captain Gavin Elliott. Gavin, my uncle, the Duke of Ashburton.” She gestured to the older man. “And my parents, Lord and Lady Michael Kenyon.”
Gavin choked. Her uncle was a bloody damned duke? And the “colonel,” whom he’d vaguely imagined as a bluff, retired officer, was a knife-sharp duke’s brother.
Though Lord Michael would be formidable under other circumstances, today he was fervently grateful, like a man who’d been relieved of a killing load. “Thank you for bringing Alex home to us, Captain,” he said with a powerful handshake.
The duke also shook hands. “In the nick of time. Michael was on the verge of haring off to the Indies in search of Alex and Katie.”
“I knew it would take more than pirates to sink Alex.” Lord Michael put an arm around his stepdaughter’s shoulders and squeezed her close. “But I’m relieved not to have to go looking for you. What the devil happened out there?”
Catherine intervened. “There is obviously much news to exchange, but we must give Alex and her family a chance to freshen up.”
Ashburton summoned the butler and gave low-voiced orders. Alex hadn’t been joking about her family assuming that everyone stayed in this great glittering pile. Gavin would have preferred the neutral privacy of a hotel, but this was a time to accept gracefully—no matter how much he might wish he was elsewhere.
Alex watched fondly as Catherine took Katie off to the nursery, both of them chattering like magpies. Her mother, her daughter. Something that had been incomplete was now whole.
By the time the housekeeper led her and Gavin upstairs, their baggage was waiting. Ashburton House ran like fine clockwork.
After the housekeeper withdrew, Alex sank onto the bed. “I feel as if I’m dreaming. When I was in Maduri, it was hard to imagine that I’d ever be home. Now, just as you said, it’s becoming difficult to remember that Maduri wasn’t a bad dream.” She watched Gavin prowl restlessly around the room. “I owe you for this a thousand times over.”
“Surely not so many as a thousand.” Gavin paused at the window to study the luxuriant garden. “I didn’t realize that I’d married into the cream of the British aristocracy.”
Uneasily she recognized that she should have told him more about her family so he wouldn’t have been caught off guard. “I’m just a connection by marriage, not a real Kenyon. Though the colonel’s family has always treated me as one of them, my own relatives are not so elevated. Mostly gentry and soldiers.”
“And I suppose my remarks about the English aristocracy didn’t encourage you to volunteer more than was necessary.” He examined a Renaissance Italian painting of a Madonna and child. “Your mother is as beautiful as you said.”
“Have you fallen in love with her already?”
Hearing the edge in her voice, Gavin caught her gaze. “Of course not. Mostly I was struck by your resemblance to her, and by her joy in having you safe.”
Alex’s gaze dropped. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. But when I was first presented, young men would politely call on me, and stay to worship at my mother’s feet. Not that she was flirtatious—they simply couldn’t resist her.”
“So you put half a world between you.” His voice softened. “It wasn’t because Lady Michael is more beautiful, but because you were a girl and she was a woman, and young men are drawn to female mystery and experience. Now, you are both women, equally beautiful in your individual fashions.”
“Really?” The idea was startling, but not unreasonable. Young girls who had just been presented were treated like porcelain dolls, and very boring it was, too. In contrast, her mother was not only beautiful and worldly, but too kind to humiliate an infatuated youth. No wonder those bright young
“You will be much admired in London as well, I assure you.” He returned to his pacing. “How do the Kenyons feel about admitting tradesmen into their ranks?”
Recognizing that he had reasons of his own to feel tense, she said, “The colonel has been involved in mining and manufacturing as long as I’ve known him, so I doubt that anyone will faint at the thought of having a merchant prince in the family. Uncle Stephen will probably be interested in investing if you have suitable projects.” She hesitated. “Perhaps I should have told you more, but I don’t think of my relatives as nobility. They’re just—my family. I thought that when you met them, you’d like them and not be bothered by the titles.”
“They seem like fine, caring people,” he said with disquieting composure. “Don’t worry, I feel like a gull whose feathers have been blown backwards, but I’ll get over it. Titled relatives are not the worst of the problem.” His gaze touched the wide canopied bed, then jumped away.
Alex flushed as she registered that they’d been put together in the room that was always hers, and this time there were no bars separating them. “I…I can sleep on the floor. I got used to straw sleeping mats on Maduri.”
His brows arched skeptically. “Maduri is a long way off, and we really need two adjoining rooms. That’s common among aristocrats, I believe, and the house certainly appears to have the space.”
“This family doesn’t use separate rooms,” she said wryly. “Kenyons mate for life, like swans.”
“And you’d rather not have them wondering what’s wrong between us,” he said with uncomfortable perception. His gaze went to the bed again. “But I can’t do this, Alexandra. You’d really better ask if the adjoining room is free.”
Recognizing what lay under his quiet words was disturbing. Though she trusted him, he was made of flesh and blood, not marble. “I’ll take care of it this afternoon.”
She was so glad to be home—but why had she thought life would become easier? The complications had just begun.
Chapter 18
GETTING SETTLED in Ashburton House took the rest of the afternoon. The bedroom adjoining Alex’s was vacant, and Gavin’s belongings were moved in without comment, though he was sure there would be speculation about what, if anything, it meant when newlyweds didn’t want to sleep together. No matter—he could bear gossip more easily than sharing a room with Alex while having to keep his distance.
The two of them visited Katie in the schoolroom, where she was making friends with Alex’s young half sister and the Ashburtons’ youngest daughter. Having been deprived of the company of other children for months, Katie was delighted to find girls near her own age, and obviously no longer needed to cling to her mother.
Suryo arrived an hour before dinner with the rest of their luggage, so Gavin was able to dress appropriately for dinner in a duke’s house. Good—the more he blended into the background, the better.
By prearrangement, Alex came into his room when she was ready. He turned from the window where he’d been watching lengthening shadows, and caught his breath. Wearing a rose-colored gown and with her dark hair swept up stylishly, she was every inch a London lady. “You look splendid. The gown is one of your mother’s?”
“Yes, and the jewelry is my aunt’s. The gown is a bit short, but because I’m also too thin at the moment, the effect is presentable.”
Rather more than presentable. He tried not to notice how low the gown was cut, or how artfully the borrowed pearl and ruby necklace drew attention to her creamy skin. Though she could use a few more pounds, her happiness made her achingly lovely. “I have trouble believing you were only the second best–looking woman in Sydney. The other residents must have needed spectacles.”
Alex laughed. “If you ever saw the glorious Widow Ryan, you’d be amazed that anyone noticed me at all. Frederica was an exquisite little blond who had men swooning whenever she entered a room. The rest of us were much relieved when she married a wealthy English merchant and shook the dust of Australia from her dainty little feet.”
“It sounds as if you didn’t like her very much.”
“She had a tongue like a wasp when she spoke to women or servants.” Alex regarded him with mock severity. “I suspect the reason we’re discussing the odious Frederica is because you’re looking for excuses not to go downstairs, but it can’t be put off any longer.” She took his arm. “No need to be anxious. Tonight will be only family and a few close friends. You look remarkably fine, and I shall be much envied.”
“I need to appear at my best as protection from your male relatives, since they will certainly dissect me over the port later,” he said darkly.
“Of course they want to get to know you, but there won’t be a dissection.”
“Little do you know.” His voice turned serious. “People will want to know what happened to you. How much do you want revealed?”
She sighed. “As little as possible. Pirates attacked, Katie and I were separated but not injured, you gallantly rescued us. Keep it as vague as possible. I suppose my parents must be told more, but I don’t ever want them to know the whole story.”
He nodded and together they left the room. As they descended the sweeping staircase, he was acutely aware of the light pressure of her hand on his forearm. If they had a normal marriage, he would kiss the delicate curve of her throat and find a way not to crumple her gown while he made them late for dinner.
Suppressing that thought with difficulty, he followed Alex’s lead to the salon, where family and guests gathered before dining. He and Alex were instantly surrounded by her family and at least a dozen more people, all of whom seemed to have titles and a deep fondness for Alex. She risked bruising from all the hugs.
Quietly he retreated to stand by a wall and watch, thinking that he’d never seen such an expensive-looking group of people in his life, with the possible exception of a dinner with Chenqua, Canton’s richest merchant.
Despite his wariness of the nobility, he had to admit that none of this lot seemed particularly dissolute. Many were around the age of the Kenyons, and they looked like men and women who took their responsibilities seriously. Tonight they rejoiced in the return of one of their own with a warmth that was endearing.
“You look like a natural philosopher studying the behavior of penguins.” Lady Michael approached with two glasses of sherry, one of which she handed to him. “Will you write a scholarly paper about this strange tribe?”
He smiled. “I’m content to watch. I’ve been in stranger lands than this.”
“But you were merely passing through before. This tribe you’ve married into, so you must come to terms with it.” She took a small sip of her sherry. “A rather overwhelming prospect at the moment, I’m sure.”
“I’ve often wanted to be part of a large family,” he said wryly. “I should have remembered that a man must be careful what he wishes for, lest he get it.”
“I hope you’ll forgive what might look like rudeness. Many of the friendships in this room are measured in decades. Most of these people have known Alex since she was a child, and they—” Lady Michael’s voice broke. “They mourned with us. They’ve earned the right to rejoice with us tonight. It isn’t often one experiences a miracle, Captain Elliott.”
Seeing tears in her eyes, he pulled out his neatly folded handkerchief and handed it over. “Since I’m your son-in-law now, perhaps you should call me Gavin.”
“Thank you, Gavin.” She blotted her eyes and managed a smile. “I’ve been crying on and off ever since I saw my daughter walk in the door. This is one of the happiest days of my life, and I’m behaving like a watering pot.”
“Women are fortunate to have tears as a way of expressing deep emotion. Men are mostly restricted to shouting and hitting things.” Wantin
“Nicholas is seventeen and Stephen is fourteen.” She chuckled. “All my children are wonderful, but Alex and I have a special relationship. I was so young when she was born that we more or less grew up together.”
It wasn’t only Catherine Kenyon’s beauty that drew men, Gavin decided, but her charm. “Alex said that only after becoming a mother herself did she realize how difficult it must have been for you to follow the drum when you were a mere girl.”
“It was an…interesting time. Luckily I was too young to realize how little I knew. Ah, here is someone you must meet.” Ashburton was approaching with a striking blond woman about Lady Michael’s age on his arm. “Rosalind, this is Alex’s husband, Captain Elliott. Gavin, the Duchess of Ashburton, your hostess.”
He tried to conceal his surprise as he bowed over her hand. Duchesses should be stiff and haughty, not rounded and golden and smiling.
“I’m so pleased to meet you, Captain,” the duchess said warmly. “We must hold a ball to celebrate Alexandra’s return and your marriage. Next week, I think.”
“So soon?” he asked, startled.
“Since the Season won’t last much longer, there’s no time to waste,” she explained. “Do you have friends in London you’d like me to invite?”
He thought about the shrewd, blunt British traders he knew. “A few, but with one exception, they aren’t respectable society people. Mostly merchants.”
Instead of being put off, she laughed. “Excellent. Gatherings are so much more enjoyable when not everyone is respectable. When you have time, please make a list for me so they can be invited.”
“Who is the one respectable friend?” Lady Michael asked.
“Lord Maxwell, heir to the Earl of Wrexham. I met him in the East.” To Ashburton, he said, “May I use one of your footmen to deliver a message? I believe Maxwell should be in London now.”