Chapter Three
Vicar Humbly was frankly miserable.
Although the vast townhouse in the fashionable neighborhood of Mayfair was no doubt lovely with its crimson and gold decor and heavily gilded trim, at the moment it was unbearably crowded with a crush of elegant guests.
Mopping his head with a large handkerchief, Humbly briefly longed for the quiet peace of his Vicarage. At such a late hour he would be cozily ensconced in his chair beside a lovely fire. No doubt he would be reading from his well-worn Bible while sipping a little of the brandy he kept cleverly hidden from Mrs. Stalwart’s sharp eyes.
Precisely the manner in which he preferred to spend his evenings.
Instead he was being rudely jostled and occasionally elbowed as the guests surged about in an effort to find their friends or merely the best position in the room to show off their finery.
The Vicar sighed.
There would no doubt be several more such evenings to be endured before he accomplished his goal, he predicted ruefully.
Adam and Addy were in even more danger than he had feared.
Adam was too proud to admit that he had been wrong to try to change his wife into an image of his own making. And too unyielding to realize that it was precisely Addy’s warm vivacity that he needed in his life.
And poor Addy was too resentful at being forced into a marriage with a man she thought cold and indifferent to realize the dependable worth of her husband.
Neither seemed willing to be first in offering the hand of peace.
Putting aside the futile desire to be home in Surrey, Humbly glanced at the gentleman at his side.
He sighed again at the cold, disapproving expression upon Adam’s handsome countenance.
If the Vicar had hoped that time spent among the glittering gaiety of others would ease the tension between the two, he was doomed to disappointment.
Rather than enjoying the festivities together, Adam had stoically remained in the shadows while Addy had allowed herself to be swept away by a series of charming rogues.
It was all enough to make even the most kindly tempered vicar mutter a curse beneath his breath.
“Gracious, it is very warm, is it not?” he at last shouted above the din, hoping to ease the tension he could feel radiating from Adam’s large form.
“Smothering,” the younger man agreed.
“Do you think they will open a door or two?”
“Not likely.” Adam shot him a wry glance. “A hostess can not consider her party a success without at least one maiden fainting in the crush.”
Humbly wiped the moisture from his forehead. “An unpleasant notion.”
“Yes.” Adam’s gaze shifted as a new wave of guests pressed through the doorway. “Humbly, I should move back if I were you.”
“What?” Humbly leaned forward in an effort to hear his companion’s low warning then he gave a sharp howl as a large matron with a hideous yellow gown stomped directly upon his foot. “Ye-ow.”
Adam’s lips twitched. “One of the numerous dangers of society,” he drawled. “Never be in the path of a Marriage Minded Mama.”
Humbly wiggled his toes, thankful to discover none were actually broken. “There are more dangers?”
Adam shrugged. “Well, to begin with you must never linger near a gentleman in his cups because he will invariably spill whatever he is drinking upon your coat. And if you must dance, take care to avoid the candle grease, which can create a challenge to the most graceful sportsman. Oh, and beware of Lady Stopel, who is a consummate pickpocket.”
Humbly gave a choked sound of disbelief, quite certain he had misheard.
“A pickpocket?”
“Yes.”
“You must be jesting?”
“Not at all,” Adam insisted. “She is quite talented and generally manages to lift a half a dozen purses during the course of an evening. Her niece, however, is quite dependable in returning the stolen items the next morning.”
Humbly gave a click of his tongue. Oppressive heat. An aching head. Near broken toes. And now fear for his meager purse.
“I begin to comprehend why you avoid such evenings,” he mourned.
“I will admit that I far prefer a quiet evening at my club.”
Humbly abruptly bit his tongue. Fool. He was suppose to be encouraging Adam to indulge his bride’s love for frivolous enjoyment, not encouraging him to disappear to his club.
“At least Addy appears to be enjoying herself,” he said brightly.
Adam abruptly shifted his gaze to his bride, who was currently chatting with a tall, bronze-haired gentleman.
“Yes.”
Humbly felt a flicker of recognition at the sight of the gentleman’s overly handsome features and lavish elegance.
“Who is that gentleman she is speaking with?”
“Lord Barclay,” Adam retorted in clipped tones.
“He seems oddly familiar.”
“He visited the Morrows last year.” Adam’s expression became even more grim as the handsome gentleman leaned close to Addy to whisper in her ear. “He is a notorious rake and fribble. I shall have to speak with Addy. I do not desire her to encourage such a connection.”
Humbly’s heart sank. Dear heavens, how could such an intelligent man be so completely lacking in sense when it came to his wife?
“I do not think a harmless encounter at a crowded ball is encouraging a connection,” he protested.
Unswayed, Adam thinned his lips to a dangerous line. “Addy is very innocent and not accustomed to the nasty games that such men enjoy playing. She might very well plunge into disaster without realizing the danger.”
Humbly thought it was far more likely this annoyingly stubborn gentleman at his side was about to blunder into disaster.
Could he not realize that he had done enough damage with his absurd lectures?
“Addy has always been very intelligent,” he said sternly. “I do not believe she will seek out scandal.”
“And what of excitement?” Adam demanded, a hint of bitterness entering his tone. “Surely you have realized that my wife is bored and restless in her marriage?”
“It is a very different life from what she was accustomed to.”
“A fact that I absurdly presumed would please her.”
Humbly abruptly stilled. He too had hoped that Addy would appreciate the solid security of her new life with Adam. He knew, after all, that she had not always approved of her parents’ outlandish habits. There had even been times when he had discovered her crying over one of their more scandalous exploits.
But instead, she had come to feel trapped and smothered in her relationship with her husband. And, of course, resentful at being forced into marriage in the first place. She seemed to have forgotten the pain and uncertainty that could be caused by those who lived lives of frivolous indifference.
Perhaps it was time she be reminded that it was not utterly horrid to possess a husband who was dependable.
Humbly summoned the sweet smile that so effectively hid his devious intent.
“A young woman’s or even a young man’s fancy is rarely taken by what is best for her or him,” he said with a lift of his hands. “Surely you have at one time or another been drawn to glitter rather than worth?”
He gave a restless shrug, no doubt recalling the lures of a pretty actress or a night devoted to cards and drink.
“Perhaps. But I have long since outgrown such nonsense.”
“As will Addy.”
The gray eyes abruptly narrowed. “Are you saying that I must be patient?”
“Yes, patience is always a most admirable trait,” Humbly agreed slowly. “Of course, there is also something to be said for carpe diem.”
“Seize the day?”
The Vicar gave a self-conscious cough. “It is just a fanciful thought, but perhaps Addy would be more content in her marriage if she were to discover that shallow impulsiveness is a poor substitute for true dependability.”
Adam blinked in confusion. “What?”
Knowing he dare not press too far too quickly, he gave a vague shake of his head. “Nothing, nothing. As I said, I am a foolish old man, prone to fancies.” His eyes widened as he glanced across the room at the bizarrely attired matron with something ominously hairy perched upon her shoulder. “Dear heavens, is that a monkey?”
* * *
Addy was thoroughly enjoying her evening.
It had been so very long since she had been among society. To dance, to laugh, to have handsome gentlemen flutter about her soothed a pride that had been battered by Adam’s constant disapproval.
For the first time in ages she felt able to loosen her constraints and truly enjoy herself. Tomorrow, she defiantly decided, would take care of itself. For this one evening she would soak up all the excitement she had so missed since becoming Mrs. Drake.
With that thought in mind she regarded the handsome Lord Barclay who had efficiently maneuvered them to a shadowed corner. During his brief visit to Surrey the year before he had proven to be a charming companion. Tonight he was positively dazzling.
As if noting the hectic glitter in her eyes, Barclay smiled down at her upturned countenance.
“Are you warm?”
“It is rather stuffy,” she agreed.
“Allow me.” With an elegant motion the Lord removed the fan tied about her wrist and began to waft it before her in an effort to cool her heated cheeks.
“Thank you.”
“It is my deepest pleasure to be of service, my dear,” the gallant gentleman retorted. “After waiting for nearly a year to see you again I had almost given up hope.”
Well acquainted with such banter, Addy gave a small laugh. “Fah. You never gave me a second thought after you left Surrey.”
“That could not be further from the truth. You have haunted me since I first captured sight of you.” His gaze boldly roamed over her tidy curls and modest yellow gown. “Of course, I must say that I far preferred your previous style of bright colors and your hair loose about your shoulders. There was something very natural and free about you.”
She gave a faint shrug. “I am a proper married lady now.”
“Do not remind me.” He gave a dramatic shudder. “It breaks my heart to think of you tied to that pompous prig.”
Her eyes widened at his unexpected words. “Lord Barclay!”
Her companion was clearly unrepentant. “It is true. He might possess a fortune, but he has no heart. He thinks of nothing but dreary duty.”
Although it was no different from what she herself had thought, Addy found herself stiffening in protest.
“He is very kind to me,” she felt compelled to point out.
Lord Barclay gave a click of his tongue. “He is no doubt kind to his dogs as well. A wife should be cherished and indulged.”
She met his gaze squarely. “How do you know that I am not?”
“A woman well satisfied with her husband has a glow about her. You are distinctly lacking that glow.”
Addy discovered she did not particularly care to have others speculating on the intimate state of her marriage.
“You are being absurd.”
He stepped closer, a faint smile curving his full lips.
“No, I am being honest. Does that trouble you?”
“I am more baffled by your inordinate interest in my marriage,” she retorted.
“Because I desire to see that happy child I once knew. It is a crime to have stolen your spirit.”
Her brows drew together in a silent warning. “My spirit is my own. It cannot be stolen by anyone.”
Far too wily not to realize that he had unwittingly overstepped his bounds, Lord Barclay gave a lighthearted chuckle.
“I cannot tell you how pleased I am to hear that, my dear.”
She gave a wry shake of her head. “You, sir, are a very dangerous gentleman.”
“Ah, but what is life without the spice of danger?”
“Safe?”
“Safe? Bah. A vastly overrated sentiment. Not to mention extraordinarily dull.” He flashed her a knowing glance. “A woman such as yourself would never be content with such an existence.”
She arched a raven brow. “And how could you presume to know?”
“Because I can see the restless dissatisfaction smoldering in those beautiful eyes.” His voice lowered to a husky promise. “It makes me long to see them dark and sated with pleasure.”
A prickle of alarm made Addy take a sudden step backward. A harmless bit of flirting was one thing. She had no intention of allowing him to believe she was interested in anything further.
“I believe we should change the conversation, my lord.”
His gaze narrowed. “Do not tell me you are frightened?”
Addy reached out to firmly reclaim her fan. “I am sensible enough to know you are a reprehensible rake! If you wish to polish your fatal charms you should choose a more gullible victim.”
“You have it wrong,” he protested. “I have been felled by your beauty.”
She rolled her eyes heavenward, but before she could take him to task for his foolishness, a sudden shadow fell over her.
A familiar tingle of awareness rushed through her and slowly she turned to confront the glittering gaze of her husband.
Her heart sank at the sight of his tight features and the grim line of his mouth.
Clearly he was once again annoyed with her behavior and anxious to offer her a reprimand.
Ignoring the gentleman who was regarding him with a lazy nonchalance, Adam held out his arm for her.
“My dance, I believe, my dear,” he said in tones that warned he would tolerate no mutiny.
“Good Lord, you surely do not mean to dance with your own wife?” Lord Barclay mocked, even as Addy obediently laid her hand upon Adam’s arm.
She felt her husband’s muscles tense as he turned to regard the dandy with a scathing dislike.
“I hardly believe my choice in dancing partners is your concern, Barclay.”
Barclay deliberately allowed his gaze to move to Addy’s flushed countenance.
“On the contrary, it is the concern of every poor wretch in London. It is bad enough that you have wed the most enchanting creature in England and kept her secluded from society. To monopolize her on the one occasion she is allowed to make an appearance is positively Gothic.”
Addy gritted her teeth as she realized the fair-haired devil was deliberately baiting Adam.
“It is a husband’s prerogative to monopolize his wife if he so desires,” Adam retorted in blighting tones.
Lord Barclay merely chuckled with a smug self-assurance. “Perhaps your wife might feel otherwise. Addy and I were enjoying a most intriguing discussion.”
Addy could have stamped her foot in annoyance. The two men had clearly forgotten her presence in their bristling male need to best one another. Like two dogs fighting over a stray bone, she thought in disgust.
“I suggest that you limit your discussions with Mrs. Drake to the weather, Barclay,” Adam warned, his cold control far more intimidating than any fiery display of temper.
Lord Barclay lifted a golden brow. “Is that a threat?”
“Obviously you are not as stupid as I feared.” Having delivered his final shot, Adam swept Addy through the crowd and onto a darkened terrace.
Once alone with her husband, Addy turned to meet his cold glare with a flare of irritation. She did not care to be hauled from the party like a naughty child.
“There was no need to threaten Lord Barclay, Adam. We were merely sharing a polite conversation.”
His jaw tightened in an ominous manner. Standing in the shadows he appeared larger and more intimidating than usual.
“Do not concern yourself, my dear. Barclay and I understand one another quite well.”
Meaning that he had already decided that there could be nothing innocent between her and the dashing Lord, she thought wearily. Just another reminder that he would never fully trust her.
“I suppose you are angry,” she said in dull tones.
The gray gaze became suddenly watchful. “What would make you think such a thing?”
“You have the expression upon your countenance that you wear when you are about to give me a lecture.”
Adam appeared startled by her accusation. “Gads, am I truly so overbearing, Addy?”
She restlessly moved to the edge of the terrace, blindly staring at the shadowed garden beyond.
“You can be very stern.”
“And you would prefer that I be more like Barclay?” he demanded in tight tones.
Addy gave a slow shake of her head. It was impossible to imagine Adam ever being lighthearted and charming. It simply was not a part of his nature.
“This is hardly the place to discuss our marriage, Adam.”
She heard him move to stand directly behind her. Those faint tingles raced through her body as she felt his male heat sear through her satin gown.
“He is an arrogant lecher, Addy, who has ruined more than one maiden,” he said with obvious impatience.
Addy reached out to grasp the stone railing. Once again he had managed to misunderstand the source of her irritation.
“And you believe me foolish enough to fall for his practiced charms?” she demanded. “Or perhaps you simply presume that because of my family I am incapable of being trusted?”
She heard him suck in a sharp breath. “Do not put words into my mouth.”
“Can you deny that you do not wholly trust me, Adam?”
There was a long, tension-fraught silence during which Addy could hear the uneven beat of her heart.
“You make it very difficult,” he at last confessed reluctantly.
“Difficult?” She abruptly turned to glare at him in rising anger. How dare he blame her for his lack of trust? “I make it difficult?”
The lean features were closed and impossible to read in the dim light.
“I am well aware, Addy, that you have not fully committed yourself to this marriage.”
Addy’s hands clenched at her side at the unfairness of it all.
“Are you mad?” she hissed, her eyes flashing with fury. “I have done nothing but commit myself. I live in your house, I wear the clothes you chose, follow your damnable schedule, and allow you into my bed. What more could you possibly ask of me?”
He seemed to flinch at her words, but the handsome features remained set in stern lines.
“I did not desire a martyr when I wed. I desired a wife. I assure you, there is no pleasure in watching your tragic form floating about the house or to know I am merely endured for the sake of duty in your bed. Is it any wonder that I prefer the comfort of my club to the coldness of my own home?”
Addy felt as if she had just been slapped. Never before had Adam spoken to her in such a manner and she found her heart clenching with an unexplainable pain.
“Perhaps you would prefer I return to Surrey?” she whispered in low tones.
The gray eyes flashed with an indefinable emotion. “You will remain in London, Addy. Make no mistake about that.”
Feeling suddenly tired and unable to return to the gaiety of the ball, Addy lifted a hand to her throbbing temple.
“I think I shall return home,” she muttered.
“Addy . . .”
“Please, Adam, I have the headache,” she interrupted sharply.
He regarded her for a long moment before giving a resigned nod of his head.
“Very well. I shall locate Humbly.”