A Chance Gone By (Brides By Chance Regency Adventures Book 2) Read online

  Her wrath was perfectly justified, and he should have apologised immediately, instead of giving in to annoyance. He had lifted her to her feet and seen the damage at once. Her cloak was awry and a swathe of darkness against the pale material of the gown all down one side told its own tale.

  “Dear God, your dress is wrecked! I suppose that means you must change it?”

  Selina had pulled the cloak aside in order to inspect her skirts, but at that she raised her head, the fine eyes blazing. “Do you expect me to appear at your sister’s ball in this?”

  “No, of course I don’t.”

  The words were automatic, but Justin inwardly seethed at the delay as he helped her up the steps. The front door of the Sessay town house was still open, and Justin found the butler at his elbow.

  “I will summon her ladyship’s maid, my lord.”

  Selina had spoken up, her tone sharp. “Tell my parents also, Moffat. No doubt my father will entertain Lord Purford while he is waiting, and Mama will assist me.”

  What, was he to chafe under his prospective father-in-law’s eye while Selina dawdled her way into a fresh gown for another couple of hours or more? She’d already made them late.

  “I will do better to go home now and return for you later on, don’t you think?”

  Selina had halted on her way to the stairs and turned on him a face of fury. “So that you may leave me kicking my heels here while you forget all about me?”

  He had glanced quickly around, but they were alone, the butler having gone upon his errands. “Don’t be absurd. I’ll be back in —”

  “If you imagine I am going to make this first public appearance without your support, you are mightily mistaken, Justin.”

  “No such thing. I have every intention of coming back to fetch you.”

  Her eyes had glittered in the candlelight. “I am all too familiar with your dilatory intentions, I thank you. If there is one thing I may trust you to do, it is to keep me waiting.”

  He had been so angry he held himself from opening his mouth until he could command his voice.

  Triumph showed in her face and she nodded. “Wait! I will not keep you above an hour.”

  Justin watched her cross to the stairs and climb steadily, her back rigid. His spurt of fury devolved into the weight of depression already becoming familiar. That her taunt was justified served only to add to the resentment which had held him back so long from acting on the expectations of all parties concerned.

  How neatly had his father tied his hands! He’d been obliged to hold off any involvement with an eligible female until Selina came out last year. Justin had paid court to her throughout the season. If he must marry her, at least let them become better acquainted. When Selina’s beauty rapidly acquired for her a large circle of male admirers, Justin indulged the hope her affections might be drawn elsewhere. It did not happen.

  She had reserved her warmest smiles for Justin. Lady Sessay dropped broad hints, and her lord began to look at Justin askance. Several times he’d been on the brink of asking for an interview with Lord Sessay and found himself unable to carry through. At the season’s end, both Lord and Lady Sessay had made their disappointment clear.

  “Well, Purford, and have you sown enough wild oats yet?”

  He’d been able to turn that one off easily enough, but Lady Sessay proved a deal more embarrassing.

  “I confess I had not expected my lovely girl to reach the end of the season unbetrothed, my dear Purford. So many rivals for her hand, you know. But she’s a good, dutiful girl, who would never wish to disappoint her parents.”

  That had been said with a significant look which he could not mistake. He’d returned some answer, but he’d known his doom was sealed. There could be no escape.

  Nevertheless, he had held off, throwing himself into a frenzy of social activity and spending as much time as he could spare from the management of his estates away from Purford Park. Whether he was indulging in an orgy of final freedom or only trying to school himself into forgetfulness, Justin did not know. A little of both perhaps.

  But with Christmas over and the new season looming ahead of him, he knew he could no longer put off the inevitable. No announcement came to provide him with a last minute reprieve. He had posted north and put his fate on the line.

  The Sessays, at once relieved and delighted, had invited him to remain, with the expressed justification that it would give Selina and her newly betrothed time alone before they must face the ton together. Justin managed to delay the announcement for the three weeks he spent with the family.

  “It would be grossly uncivil in me to allow it to become public before I had informed Lady Purford and my sister.”

  Lord Sessay had accepted this, but his lady had given him a look which clearly stated that if he thought the delay might afford him an escape, he would soon learn his error.

  But Justin, having resigned himself, had set out to charm and woo his future wife. His efforts met with little success. She was ice-cold and brittle, and he began to suspect she had accepted him with as much reluctance as he had proposed. Until she made it obvious she was punishing him.

  “You do realise you made me a laughing stock last year?”

  The remark had come out of the blue. They had been out riding and had reined in after a gallop. Selina patted her horse’s neck and turned to look at him.

  Justin was so much taken aback by the suddenness of the attack he had been lost for words for a moment. “Then I must beg your pardon,” he said lightly at last.

  Selina’s gaze was steady. “Yes, you must.”

  He frowned. “If I offended you, Selina, I am truly sorry.”

  “You didn’t offend me. You subjected me to the mockery of the ton. That is hard to forgive.”

  He stared at her. “Mockery? When you were more courted and petted than any other female?”

  Her eyes snapped at him. “Oh, pray don’t let us continue this farce!”

  “Farce? What in the world —?”

  “If we are to make any sort of a life together, Justin, we cannot go on pretending.”

  “Would you care to be more specific?”

  Bitterness had sounded in her voice. “This match between us was arranged years ago. Neither of us had any choice in the matter, I imagine.”

  Justin had been conscious of a measure of relief, but he was hurt too. “That may be true, but you will allow I gave you ample opportunity to choose another, if you are so averse from my suit.”

  She looked away, biting her lip. He had watched her, wondering if there was here a chance for relief. For her as well as himself, if she was truly against the match. He was glad the announcement had not yet been made.

  “Selina, if you truly don’t wish to marry me — if there is someone else perhaps, then —”

  She looked at him then, her eyes hard. “There is no one. And of course I wish to marry you. Did I not show myself willing enough all through the season?”

  “Willing? Can we not try to make it more than that, Selina?”

  “When you have made it abundantly clear that you don’t really want to marry me?”

  He had been shocked to realise how much he must have given away, and knew not how to contradict her without sounding insincere.

  “You need not look like that, Justin. Let us admit that neither of us would have chosen the other if it had been possible to choose, and be done.”

  “Is that it? Is that all the effort you are prepared to make?”

  To disappointment had been added dismay and a burgeoning anger. Had he sacrificed his feelings for this?

  Selina urged her horse into a walk and he perforce followed suit.

  “You will not find me wanting, Justin. I know my duty.”

  “Duty? If that is to be the sum of it, Selina, let me set you free. We are not obliged to follow the dictates of our respective parents, you know. We do not live in the Middle Ages.”

  At that, she had uttered a spurt of laughter. It had sounded hol
low to Justin’s ears.

  “True, but I’m afraid there is no going back now.” She looked at him, a little smile wavering on her lips. “Besides, I have never said I was unwilling. It is an excellent match, after all, and I could scarcely wish for a more personable husband.”

  “I thank you,” he said drily.

  “I am persuaded we will deal well together… in due course.”

  Justin was less sanguine, but he did not say so. He had agreed to it and the subject was never brought up between them again. Selina unbent a trifle in her attitude towards him, and he hoped his lapse might be forgiven. But she was never warm, often spiky, and the slightest misstep or mishap seemed to afford her an excuse to prick at him.

  After the accident with the carriage his prospective father-in-law had ushered him into the saloon to wait. Lord Sessay had come down the stairs not moments after his daughter went up them, tutting distressfully.

  “An unfortunate accident, my dear boy, but Caroline has gone to expedite matters. I am persuaded all will be rectified swiftly. I have told Moffat to bring refreshments. You will take a glass, I hope?”

  Justin had acquiesced perforce, removing his cloak and smoothing the superfine sleeves of his green coat, relieved his satin knee-breeches had not suffered the fate of Selina’s gown. A quick glance in the mirror above the fireplace served to reassure him that the fracas had not disarranged his intricately tied cravat. He touched the diamond pin to set it again and turned to accept a glass of wine from his host, whose insouciant manner revived his irritation.

  “Never does to arrive too early at one of these affairs, after all. Only have to endure the tedium for a good deal longer than necessary.”

  Justin had refrained from retorting that the entertainment was his sister’s debut ball, and he was expected to be there to greet the guests. Lord Sessay would consider his first duty was to his betrothed, which he supposed it now was. Jocasta would be disappointed, but he could more easily deflect her upset than deal with Selina’s megrims. His little sister adored him and he cared for her a great deal. That made all the difference.

  Justin’s thoughts faded and he turned his attention back to the present as he caught sight of Jocasta standing demurely at her mother’s side, conversing with one of Grace’s matronly friends, although there were several young gentlemen hovering discreetly nearby. Her dance card would fill up rapidly once he led the way.

  Suppressing his personal concerns, Justin moved in to interrupt, summoning every ounce of the vanished air of gaiety his sister both deserved and expected.

  Jocasta was soon chattering in her usual animated fashion every time they came together in the dance. He listened with half an ear as his brooding thoughts intruded once again, until she shocked him out of his inattention.

  “She is very lovely, but I truly didn’t think you’d do it, Justin. I always supposed you and Marianne would make a match of it.”

  Chapter Three

  While she passed among the guests, exchanging a smile here and a word there, Marianne could not stop her gaze straying to the set where Justin was now dancing with his betrothed.

  He had done his duty by his sister, who did not lack for partners. She went from one dance to the next, with insufficient time between to return to Grace’s side, thank heavens! Instead, her friend Delia Burloyne waylaid her, with another couple of females in tow. An excellent turn. The more young ladies she became acquainted with, the less she would be shadowed by her mother. And the Dragon had disappeared, probably in the direction of the card room.

  Relieved, Marianne did not trouble to keep more than a cursory eye on her cousin, which unfortunately left her with the far less arduous duty of ensuring the guests were well entertained. After more than four years of deputising for Grace, this was second nature. While she questioned and responded, therefore, she could not school her attention to refrain from drifting.

  Had she been asked, she could have said at any moment exactly where Justin was in the room. His fair head, his well-remembered smile and the easy grace of his movements obtruded all too easily into her line of sight.

  An unwelcome voice cut into her attention.

  “So he’s popped the question at last.”

  Marianne turned to confront the gaunt figure of Justin’s paternal aunt. A tall woman with the characteristic Crail hawk nose in a long face — attributes Lord Purford had thankfully not bequeathed to his son — Lady Luthrie had come to Purford Park at Christmas with her husband, bringing also her son and her newly married younger daughter whose spouse was on foreign shores with his regiment. She had not hesitated to speak her mind at length on Justin’s failure to fulfil his father’s expectations, driving even Grace into the snappish resentment that afflicted everyone else.

  “She is very beautiful,” Marianne said, unwilling to hear more of the evident satisfaction in Lady Luthrie’s tone.

  “Beautiful, well brought up and eligible in every way. My brother knew what he was doing. When is the wedding?”

  Marianne flinched inwardly. “I have no notion, ma’am. We only learned of the engagement a bare day before the notice came out.”

  The elder lady humphed, the ornate feathers on her turban nodding in sympathy. “I will advise Grace to urge an early date. We don’t want him crying off.”

  Instinct sent Marianne flying to Justin’s defence, but she managed to maintain her customary cool tone. “He won’t do that. He is too much the gentleman.”

  “He was not too much the gentleman to keep the girl waiting for the better part of a year,” came the acid response.

  Marianne kept her lips firmly closed, but her eyes followed Lady Luthrie’s glance and she allowed herself to dwell on Selina’s elegant figure performing the movements of the dance with practised ease.

  “Well, let us hope for the best.” Lady Luthrie turned back to Marianne, brows raised. “And what will you do, my dear, when Grace retires to the Dower House? Go with her? I doubt she could manage without you.”

  Shock held every faculty suspended for a moment as Marianne stared into the woman’s face. Her expression was not unkind, but the blunt question thrust reality into play, killing the dream stone dead.

  Marianne would no longer run Justin’s household. She must give up the reins, pass them across to the woman who had already taken the one thing that mattered to Marianne above all else. It had not before occurred to her that she would lose the rest as well.

  “I don’t know, ma’am. I have not had time to think about it.”

  “Well, I dare say there is no rush. Grace must get Jocasta off her hands before she can think of retiring from Purford Park. But I would advise you, Marianne, to look to your own future. You are young yet, you present a good appearance and I am bound to state you have all the qualities needed to be the wife of a sensible man.”

  An exasperated laugh escaped Marianne. “I thank you, Lady Luthrie, but I fear there is one lack which cannot be overcome.”

  “Fortune? Nonsense. There are gentlemen enough who can afford to take a dowerless wife.” Her fan swept an arc as if to encompass these gentry. “You cannot hope to marry high, but a sound investment in a man of sense will secure you.”

  “An investment? I had not thought of it in that light, I confess.”

  “Because you were never brought out in the usual way, my dear. Nor had you a careful mama to think of these things. However, it is not too late. If you will be guided by me, you will look about you for a widower in search of a stepmother for his children. Such men are far less particular.”

  Despite the pain it caused her to think of spending her life with any other man than Justin, Marianne found it hard to contain her bubbling amusement. “My dear ma’am, I am not acquainted with any widowers — other than our neighbour, who is sixty if he is a day. But if you will point me in the direction of any such fellow, I will at once set my cap at him.”

  Lady Luthrie’s look of approval very nearly overset her altogether. “I will give it some thought.” She tu
tted. “Really, Grace has been remiss. She might have got you off years ago if she hadn’t chosen instead to lay her burdens on your shoulders.”

  Marianne opened her mouth to refute this, but Lady Luthrie set a hand on her arm, bending the strong nose in her direction.

  “No, do not defend her. You have borne your trials cheerfully, and I admire you for that, Marianne.”

  “Ma’am, you mistake. Anything I do in the house, I have taken upon myself. Cousin Grace is not to be blamed.”

  The elder lady pursed her lips. “That does not excuse her leaving your interests out of her calculations. Had I been consulted, I would have recommended Grace to set her snare for the Reverend Underwood.”

  “But he’s married.”

  “He wasn’t when he took up office. He would have been ideal for you, had Grace bestirred herself and not allowed him to be snatched up from under her nose.”

  Marianne was prevented from expressing her relief that her cousin had refrained from foisting her on to the local vicar by the entrance of a new voice into the discussion.

  “What is this, Aunt Pippa? Are you scheming to get poor Jocasta riveted before she has had time to enjoy Society?”

  Her amusement quenched, Marianne had all to do to keep her countenance as the rhythm of her pulse speeded up and her throat constricted. She was glad to hear Lady Luthrie take up the gauntlet.

  “No such thing, my dear Justin. As to your sister, I anticipate no difficulty. She will take.”

  “What, even with the faults you were enumerating at Christmas?”

  His aunt’s fan waved this aside. “Nothing that cannot be speedily nipped in the bud. No, it is Marianne’s future I am thinking of.”

  Marianne saw the startled look in Justin’s face with a rush of dismay. She dared say he had never given the matter a thought.

  His eyes turned on her, those magnetic eyes whose unusual green colour had fascinated her from the first. The old teasing gleam entered them.

  “Have you caught the matrimonial fever then, Marianne?”

  She found her voice, trying for a like insouciant tone. “No, indeed. The notion came out of your aunt’s head, not mine.”