Читать книгу Two Wrongs Make a Marriage - Christine Merrill, Christine Merrill - Страница 10

In the company of her new husband, the imposter Jack Briggs, the ride to Essex was proving intolerable. Instead of the sweet afterglow of a honeymoon, the day after Thea’s marriage was rather like waking with a bad head from too much wine. Her brain ached from trying to comprehend what had happened to her. Her body was stiff and sore from a night spent without sleep on the hard couch in her husband’s room, muscles rigid and teeth clenched with anger and frustration. The Kenton carriage was well sprung and roomy, but she might as well have been travelling in an open dog cart for all the comfort it gained her.

It was precisely the condition that the false Lord Kenton should have been experiencing. He had snored his way through the night, wrapped in a cloud of cheap spirits and the monogrammed linens of one of the finest families in England. Instead of waking the worse for drink and racked with guilt at how he had treated Thea and her family, the morning found him happy, relaxed and quite pleased with the way the day was going. When she had pressed him for an explanation, he had been unwilling to share the reason for his good mood. He acted as if lying about his life and identity, marrying some unsuspecting girl and being sorely disappointed in the result was an activity that happened every day.

Perhaps, to him, it did. The idea that she might be one of a string of similar Lady Kentons was more than disturbing. He did not seem the sort to travel from town to town, ruining innocents and stealing fortunes. But until last night, she’d have sworn that such a thing as had already happened was quite impossible. How could she be sure?

And he was whistling. Thea could not identify the tune. But she suspected, judging by the look in his eyes, that the lyrics were inappropriate for female ears.

She glared at him. ‘Stop that incessant noise.’

Jack stared back at her, all innocence. The whistle paused. ‘You do not like music?’

‘That is not music. It is precisely the opposite. If you had any manners …’

‘And the kind of breeding and education …’ he said, in a pompous tone, waving a hand. ‘We have already established that I do not. You were the one who wished to marry me. Now you must learn to make do.’ He went back to whistling.

‘It is vulgar,’ she said with desperation.

‘And so am I.’ His eyes were narrowed, as though it had been possible to hurt him with a statement of truth.

‘I have no doubt that you are vulgar, after your comments of the previous evening. But it is all the more reason for you to stop. You should aspire to be something better than you are.’

‘As you do?’ He folded his arms across his chest, waiting for an answer. His cheerful manner disappeared. He was looking at her, for all the world, as though he were the one who had been wronged by her scheming.

‘Is this some veiled reference to my willingness to—’ her mouth puckered in revulsion as she parroted his words back to him ‘—hold out for a man of sufficient rank?’ It was as if he thought her no better than a whore for marrying him. ‘There is nothing wrong with seeking a decent future through marriage.’

‘For a woman, perhaps,’ he said.

‘You were quick enough to do it yourself.’

‘I was doing it in service to another,’ he said firmly.

As was she. Her family would have seen the benefit, had her plan worked as expected. But his comment rankled. ‘You are little better than a servant to Spayne, then? If so, I order you to stop whistling.’

‘I may be a servant to Spayne. But to you?’ He grinned. ‘I am a husband. And humble though I might be, it is not your place to command anything of me. As I remember, it was you who promised to obey.’

‘But not to obey you. I said the words when I thought you were Kenton. I promised loyalty to a man who does not exist.’

‘The majority of women who marry would say the same thing. I fail to see why I owe an alteration of my behaviour to you, if you were not aware of the fact that marriage changes everything between us. Now hush, woman, and cease your nagging. I am trying to think.’ He leaned back in the seat and closed his eyes with a blissful smile upon his face.

Marriage changed everything. He was right in that, at least. For the moment, it left her completely dependent on the man across from her, for she could think of no way to explain away what had happened without making matters even worse than they were. Jack had stopped whistling, though she doubted it was in an effort to spare her nerves. But she found the silence even more annoying than the noise had been. ‘What are you thinking about?’ she said at last.

He opened one eye. ‘Are you to be one of those women, then? The sort that is continually trying to pry out the contents of a man’s head for their own entertainment?’

‘It is not entertainment that I desire. I merely wish to know what you have planned for our future together.’

‘Together?’ He laughed. ‘I do not plan any such thing. I am taking you to Spayne, just as he wished. He will explain as much or as little of his situation as he chooses. Between us, we will see if there is anything that can be salvaged of his original plan. You will help us. And when it is through, I will return to my life. Beyond that, we have no future together.’

The glee with which he contemplated the end of their connection hurt, although why it should she had no idea. She wanted to be rid of him as much as he wanted to break with her. ‘You seem to be angry at me, which is hardly fair.’ Had she not worked long and hard to mould herself into the perfect wife? The least he could do was appreciate her effort.

He was having none of it. ‘You deceived me.’

‘Only because you wanted to be deceived,’ she reminded him. ‘At no time did I promise you wealth, or an adequate settlement. Nor did my father. It was you who chose to assume that there was money rather than debt. I, on the other hand, had no reason to believe that you were not Viscount Kenton. I trusted your word as a gentleman.’

‘Just as your father trusted de Warde.’ He snorted. ‘The gentry is far too trusting, in my opinion. But you are right. I was a fool. Your sort have been lying to me my whole life and it was only now that I chose to see truth where there was none. I apologise for my bad temper.’

‘Apology accepted,’ she said uneasily. Had it been her imagination, or had she just won an argument with the man? Truly not, if she had to do it by claiming herself a liar. ‘But I did not lie to you. I merely omitted certain key portions of the truth. I took a gamble to gain your full attention. But I never claimed to be rich. You merely assumed it.’

‘Of course I did. You were well dressed, seen at all the finest parties and your father spent freely.’

‘Just as everyone else in society,’ she responded. ‘If you scratch the surface, you will find many in a similar predicament. It is hardly unusual.’

‘You claimed that you needed to marry. You pretended to be fond of me.’

‘But that was true,’ she insisted earnestly, glad that he was finally understanding her. ‘I did need to marry. And it would have been difficult to gain your attention any other way than kidnapping. You were the most sought-after man of the Season. Even if I’d have caught your eye, your interest would have waned when you realised that my family was inappropriate.’

‘As it did,’ he admitted. ‘Though it might have faded more slowly had I the chance to enjoy your favours, as I’d expected to.’

She gave a little gasp of shock to hear him freely admit that he’d meant to use her so, knowing full well that it would be a trick.

It did not seem to bother him in the least. He was still too focused on his own selfish complaints. ‘You did not need to claim an attraction where you felt none.’

But she had been attracted to him. There was no way to escape that, for he was a most handsome and charming fellow. And the kisses he’d given her, when she’d allowed it, had been quite wonderful. But she would not give him the satisfaction of knowing so and allowed herself a small white lie, by avoiding the accusation with a scoff. ‘You would have noticed no difference had we married.’

‘And this is what honesty is worth,’ he said with a dramatic gesture. ‘The least you could do, now that you are trapped with me, is to spare my feelings and pretend that you once liked me.’

She had not intended to hurt his feelings, not that she truly believed he had them. ‘I liked you as well as any other man,’ she allowed. ‘I have always known that the match I would make might be decided after a brief acquaintance, and based on fondness rather than grand passion. Had we married in truth, I would have given you the same wholehearted devotion that I’d have given to any other man.’

If possible, he looked even more injured. ‘It is faint praise to know that any man could have taken my place and received similar affection.’

‘You would not have minded, I assure you.’ She raised her head with pride at her one accomplishment. ‘I have been properly educated on that score and would have made you a fine wife.’

‘This I must hear,’ he said with a lascivious smile. ‘Tell me what sort of education you have that would lead us to be in the situation we are sharing. Did it involve tricking men into having you? Or are there other skills I might appreciate?’ He gave a waggle of eyebrow to imply the sorts of things her mother had all too candidly explained to her.

‘I have no idea what you are talking about.’ She did her best, but the thought that he might see easily through the falsehood was acutely embarrassing. ‘I know all that is important for a wife to know. I can sing and dance and play the pianoforte. My watercolours are deemed to be quite good. I can net a purse and embroider with silks. I can manage the servants of a large household and plan all sorts of entertainments. My manners are impeccable, whether on a morning visit to a friend or a court presentation. In addition, I am quite well read, can speak and understand French and read a bit of Italian. Most importantly, I am willing to be led in all things by the wisdom of my husband. What more could a man expect?’

‘I stand corrected,’ Jack said with an ironic smile. ‘Apparently, you are all I could want. The fact that you are poor as a church mouse and cannot hide your contempt for me does not enter into the equation.’

‘The poverty cannot be helped. It was not my doing. And I hold you in contempt because you lied to me,’ she said. ‘You pretended to be someone you were not. Your name, your family, your stories of India—not a word of it was true.’

‘I was acting,’ he insisted. ‘I played the role I was hired for.’

‘But I believed in you and your stories.’ And she was most thoroughly disappointed to find that the man she had convinced herself she could love did not exist at all.

He brightened. ‘Which is proof that I am a better actor than I have been given credit for. I wish, my dear, that I could take you to meet some of my critics and show to them how completely convincing I am in this part. They would take back what they said about my performance of Mordaunt Exbury in Love and Fashion. They said I was not lordly enough,’ he added indignantly. ‘And some wag in the audience had the nerve to throw a rotten potato.’

‘I hope he hit you, you miserable cur,’ Thea said with sincerity. ‘You stood before God and lied through your teeth about staying with me until we were parted by death.’

‘And as far as you knew, we would have been.’ He thought for moment. ‘It is almost the truth, when you think about it. A real Kenton existed. But he is, in fact, dead.’ He smiled at her in encouragement. ‘Perhaps you are already a widow.’

‘But I did not wish to be his widow. I wished to be his wife. And in any case, I did not marry that man, rest his soul. I married you.’ She raised a finger in a dire gesture of accusation, hoping that he would see the difference and the dilemma it put her in.

He caught her hand out of the air and pressed it to his lips for a quick kiss. ‘And we must endeavour to make the best of that unfortunate mistake. We are just coming to Spayne Court. Let us tell all to the earl and see what he makes of it. I am sure that, once he has explained the advantages of the situation, you will be a most happy widow.’

‘Once I know you better, I am sure I shall.’ She snatched her hand back from his, ignoring the tingling in the fingers where his lips had touched it, and hurried to exit the coach as soon as the servants could open the door.