Regency Innocents: The Earl's Untouched Bride / Captain Fawley's Innocent Bride. ANNIE BURROWS
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again gestured to Giddings, which the butler interpreted correctly as permission to tell his tale himself.
‘The last I heard, every regiment sent for the purpose of arresting him joined him the minute they saw him in person.’
‘It is no surprise, that,’ Heloise said darkly. ‘He has a way with the soldiers that makes them worship him.’
‘By the time I reached Calais,’ Giddings continued, ‘fugitives from Paris were catching up with me, telling tales of the desperate measures they had taken to get themselves out of the city before he arrived. The price of any sort of conveyance had gone through the roof.’
‘Thank heavens we married when we did,’ Charles remarked. ‘Else we might have been caught up in that undignified scramble.’
‘Is all you can think of your precious dignity?’ Robert retorted. ‘And how can you—’ he rounded on Heloise ‘—be so bacon-brained as to worship that Corsican tyrant?’
‘I did not say I worship him!’ Heloise snapped. First Charles had made light of the convenience of their marriage, and now Robert had jumped to a completely false conclusion about her. ‘Do you think I want to see my country back in a state of war? Do you think any woman in France is ready to see her brothers and sweethearts sacrificed to Bonaparte’s ambition? It is only men who think it is a fine thing to go about shooting each other!’
‘Now, steady on, there,’ Robert said, completely taken aback by the vehemence of her reply, and the tears that had sprung to Heloise’s eyes. ‘There’s no need to fly into such a pucker …’
‘Not at the dining table,’ put in Charles.
‘Oh, you!’ She flung her napkin down as she leapt to her feet. ‘All you care about is manners and appearances. Men in Paris might be fighting and dying, but all you can do is frown because I speak to a servant as if he is a real person, and say what I really think to your so rude beast of a brother!’
‘This is neither the time nor place—’
‘When will it ever be the time or the place with you, Charles?’ she cried. Then, seeing all hope torn from her—not only for her marriage, but also for her country—she burst into sobs and left the room.
For a few moments the brothers sat in an uneasy silence.
‘Dammit, Walton,’ Robert said at last, flinging his spoon down with a clatter. ‘I didn’t mean to upset her so.’
‘I dare say she is anxious over the safety of her parents,’ Charles replied abstractedly. Did she really think he was so shallow all he cared about was good manners? ‘Giddings, give Her Ladyship an hour to calm down, then take a tray up to her room. As for you—’ he turned to Robert with a cool look. ‘—I suggest you finish your meal while you consider ways to make amends for insulting my wife and making her cry for the second time in one day.’
Chapter Seven
‘Charles, you will never guess what has happened!’ Heloise greeted her husband, when he came in to bid her goodnight several nights later.
She was not clutching the sheets nervously to her chest for once, Charles observed. Sadly, the robe which matched the gossamer-fine nightgown she wore was fastened demurely across her breasts, rather than lying provocatively across the ottoman. Though she was getting used to him visiting her room, she had no intention of inviting him into her bed.
Still, it was a small step in the right direction. There were other indications that she was gaining confidence in her position as his wife, too. She had ordered some lower footmen to rearrange her furniture without asking his permission. She had dismissed the dresser and the maid he had engaged for her. Then, as though wondering just how far she dared push him, she had promoted the scrubby little girl who cleaned the grates and lit the fires to the position of her maid.
She had then gone to Cummings and asked how she might go about doing some personal shopping.
Was that what had put the sparkle in her eyes tonight? Discovering from his secretary what a generous allowance he had arranged for her to have?
He took his seat at her bedside with a vague feeling of disappointment.
‘Robert is going to take me to Vauxhall Gardens to see the fireworks! Is that not wonderful?’
His disappointment evaporated. Her pleasure stemmed from mending a quarrel with his brother rather than a so far concealed streak of avarice.
‘He said that he cannot take me anywhere by daylight, but if we kept to shadowy walks, so that nobody can raise objections to the state of his face, it might not be too bad. Charles, this is something I do not understand.’ Her brow puckered with confusion. ‘Nobody looks askance at a soldier on the boulevards of Paris, no matter how grotesque his injuries!’
‘But you have had conscription in France for many years. Everybody feels more personally involved in the war. Anyone’s brother or husband could easily suffer the same fate as those poor wretches.’ He sighed. ‘Heloise, you must understand that most people are basically selfish. They come to town to enjoy themselves. They want to gossip and flirt and dance. Seeing a man like Robert is a reminder that life can be ugly and brutal. And they don’t want reminders that outside their charmed circle men are fighting and dying to ensure their freedoms.’
Heloise felt a twinge of guilt. She herself had become so preoccupied with her husband, and how she could win his approval, that she had not spared Bonaparte a thought for days.
‘I trust you have not fixed tomorrow evening for your outing to Vauxhall?’ Charles frowned. It had suddenly occurred to him that it would look very odd if her first outing in public was taken in the company of her brother-in-law. He rapidly reviewed the entertainments available to him for the next evening.
And wondered why he had never thought of it before.
‘You will be accompanying me to the theatre.’ It had worked well for them in Paris. Why should it not work here?
‘I … I will?’ Finally, finally he was going to permit her to appear in public as his bride!
And people would look at how small and plain she was, and wonder why on earth he had married her when he could have had any woman for the lifting of his finger.
Charles watched the joy drain from her face.
‘Is the primrose satin ready?’ he asked tersely, refusing to voice his hurt.
It was not her fault she regarded an outing with him as a duty to be borne, when a trip to Vauxhall Gardens with his half-brother filled her with eager anticipation.
When she nodded, he said, ‘Wear it tomorrow.’ Without further comment, he gave her the kiss which was always the prelude to leaving her room.
It was only after he had gone that she allowed herself to feel resentful that he had not bothered to thank her for getting Robert to venture out of doors. Nobody else had succeeded in so much as rousing him out of his rooms for months. But could Charles unbend towards her enough to applaud her achievement? Not he!
But she still, foolishly, studied his face for some sign of approval as she descended the stairs the following evening, dressed according to his dictates. She felt a little uncomfortable in the high-waisted gown which would have left her arms completely bare were it not for the matching gloves that came past her elbows. The neckline glittered with the most intricate beadwork Heloise had ever seen. The motif of thistle-heads and leaves was picked up in the self-coloured stitching on her gloves, and repeated around the three flounces on her skirts.
‘Come into my study for a moment before we leave,’ he said, crooking his finger imperiously. His guarded expression told her nothing. ‘I have something I wish to give you.’
She