Chapter 11
Once Tom heard Anthony out and showed him to the door, Tom returned to the music room. In the hallway, he leaned against the wall listening to her despair. Obviously, being married to him brought her nothing but sorrow, but the deed was done. All he could do was give her what she wanted and hope they’d tolerate each other. His heart broke with every minor note weeping from the instrument.
By the second bridge, he couldn’t stand it any longer. Shaking his head to clear away the sorrow, he strode down the hall toward his study. The music followed him.
Papers, letters, and contracts overtook his desk. In his absence, his secretary had organized the piles of paperwork for Thomas to go through. With a sigh, he sat and started with the letters.
Crowly appeared in the doorway. “Sir?”
“Yes, what is it?”
Silver tray in hand, Crowly crossed the room. “These messages arrived for you while you were on your honeymoon, sir.”
Three notes lay on the tray. The first was an invitation to a dinner party at the Earl of Marlton’s townhouse. Dory was correct about one thing. They were likely to only receive invitations from their closest friends. However, when one had friends in high places, things could turn around.
The other two notes both had Dory’s family seal.
“When did these arrive?”
“The thick one came three days ago, the others just this morning.”
“Crowly, would you ask my wife to join me? You will find her in the music room.”
“Yes, sir. I can hear that.” He lumbered out of the room.
Thomas placed the notes on the desk in front of him. One was twice as fat as the other.
The music stopped. It was both a pity and a relief. Perhaps one day she would play something less sorrowful.
Soft footsteps sounded down the hall, and then the door to his study opened. Dory stepped inside. “You wanted to see me?”
“We have an invitation to Marlton’s for dinner tomorrow night.”
Dory sat across from him in one of two chairs facing his desk. “Leave it to Sophia to make sure we are not ignored.”
“We are lucky to have such good friends. Would you like to attend?” He loved the way her hair fell in ringlets around her face and neck. Just looking at her made his heart pound faster.
“Of course. She is throwing the party for our benefit. We must attend.” Her gaze bore into him as if daring him to disagree.
“I will write directly and accept the invitation.”
“Was there anything else?”
Did he see hope in her eyes? It must be the lighting. “We have two other messages and both carry your family seal.”
She gripped her hands in her lap. “What do they say?”
“I have not opened them, Dory. I thought you might prefer to read them.” He passed them across the desk.
She took them and read the address on the envelope. “They are addressed to you, Tom.”
“I noticed.”
“Why would you hold them over for me?”
Thomas wished she could see what he saw when he looked at her. Maybe that was the key to fixing what lacked in their marriage. Standing, he hoped for something brilliant to come to him before he rounded his desk and sat in the chair next to her. “I know I am not what you wanted, Dory. However, I would like for us to find contentment with our situation. I like you. You are an intelligent and sensitive woman. I saved the letters for you because you are my equal and will be treated as such. If my family wrote to you under these circumstances, I hope you would act in a similar fashion.”
“You are a strange man, Tom.”
He laughed. “And you mean that in the kindest sense.”
A smile lit her eyes. “Which one shall I open first?”
“Crowly tells me the fatter of the two came three days ago, and the other this morning. Perhaps it’s best to start with the first. I suspect it will be the worst of the two.” He leaned back.
With shaking hands, she broke the seal and opened the letter. Tears filled her eyes but did not fall. After a moment, she turned the page, and then looked at the second sheet of scribble. With a sigh, she closed her eyes. “Shall I give you the short version or would you like to read it yourself?”
“You can just tell me what it says.” He braced for a scathing put down from her father.
“My father says I am dead to him and you are a scoundrel. No gentleman would have done what you did. He claims you have stolen his property and ruined him and my mother. It goes on and on and he uses language I have never heard before. His English is not very good, but you should probably read it yourself. There is mention of money in more than one place.” She handed him the pages.
Tom folded them. He didn’t give a damn about the earl’s feelings. Dory’s eyes had filled with hurt and that he cared about. “What of the other one?”
With a sigh, she broke the other seal. “It is from my mother. She would like to call when we return.”
“Is that a good sign or bad?”
“It is hard to say. At least I am not dead to her. Father was probably drunk when he wrote the letter. I can tell by his scribble he was less than sober.”
“Will you respond to your mother?”
She nodded and folded the letter. “If you do not object, I will tell her we are at home and look forward to seeing her.”
“I do not object at all.”
“Thank you.” She stood.
He rose and stepped closer. “Dory, I hope you know that this is your home and you may do as you please here. I am not your master. We are in this together.”
“That is very kind of you.”
Longing for the warm woman he’d had in Scotland would not bring her back. “If you would not mind, I would like to discuss one other thing with you.”
With a nod, she sat again. “What is it?”
“You and I both know your father had planned to pay off a debt by marrying you to Hartly. I feel obligated to offer him compensation. He indicates our actions damaged your family monetarily. That does not sit well with me.”
Her eyes narrowed. Every muscle in her body was tight and ready to snap with the least bit of provocation. “No. He has squandered his money and wanted to use me as a pawn in his game. I would not like it if you paid his way. He will only do the same thing again.”
“I see.” He understood her anger at her father’s selfish motivations. “I will give it more thought.”
Her breath was fast and hard, lifting her breasts in the most tantalizing way. She might never love him, but he could not deny his attraction to her. Her conversation with Elinor rolled around in his head and cooled his desires.
She stood. “If there is nothing else, I will respond to my mother, and then speak to the cook.”
Rising with her, he pushed away the wild need to wrap her in his arms. “As you wish.”
She spun on her heels and strode from his study.
Collapsing back into the seat, he rubbed his face. How was he going to make this work? She was a puzzle, and he had to figure her out before they fell apart. Even knowing she would never have tender feelings for him, he still longed to make her happy. He’d vowed to do as much.
* * * *
Late that afternoon, he was still wading through the work left on his desk when Crowly announced the arrival of Lord and Lady Castlereagh.
“Show them into the formal parlor. I shall collect my wife and greet them there.”
“Yes, sir.”
Thomas waited for Crowly to leave, and then waited another few moments for the couple to reach the parlor. He didn’t want them to see him searching for Dory. One thing Thomas had always hated was not knowing what would happen next. He prided himself on controlling his surroundings and being prepared for whatever might come. Since eloping, nothing had been in his control.
He knocked on the closed music room door.
“Yes,” she called from within.
Pushing the door open, he found her sitting with her head over the small desk. She scribbled notes wildly across the parchment.
Unable to resist, he eased over to her and gazed over her shoulder. A miraculous stanza of notes in B-flat stretched to the next and the next. He heard the music in his head, and though sad, it was also brilliant. “Forgive the interruption. I long to hear you play this beautiful creation more than you can know. However, your parents are here.”
She brought her head up. “Already?”
“I suppose they were eager to see you.”
“My father is here as well?”
“Yes. It would seem so.”
She lay the pen down, covered the ink bottle, stood, and brushed out her pale blue skirts. Patting her hair into place, she licked her lips and swallowed several times.
He took her hand. “It will be all right, Dory. You look lovely.”
Her forced smile never made it to her eyes. “Thank you, Tom. You are always here to save me, like a white knight on a charger.”
“I am no hero, Dory. But as I told you before, we are in this together.”
In the hallway, she stopped several times and he had to nudge her along.
Crowly stood outside the formal parlor and opened the door as they approached.
No turning back now.
Like a warrior, she pulled her shoulders back and tipped her chin up before entering.
He had no right, but pride filled him as it never had for any other person. She faced her fears more boldly than most soldiers. Magnificent.
Geoffrey Flammel leaned against the wall near the fireplace as if he might fall without the extra support. He still wore his morning coat and had his ascot tied in an intricate knot. His nose and cheeks burned bright red and he flexed his fingers and fisted them over and over.
Margaret Flammel sat on the settee with her hands folded in her lap. Her mild expression continued as she regarded her daughter from head to toe. “You look well, Dorothea.”
Dory made a curtsy then kissed her mother’s cheek. “Thank you, Mother. It was kind of you to call.” She turned to her father. “Hello, Father.”
Castlereagh grunted and stared at Thomas, who had stayed near the door. He stepped forward and bowed to Margaret. “How do you do, Lady Castlereagh?”
Dory sat next to her mother. “I hope you are well.”
“Tolerably so. Your father is under the weather but insisted on calling today. I suggested he remain home, but as you see.”
“I do as I please, and the rest of you be damned.”
“Can you stay for tea, Mother?”
“That would be very nice.”
Thomas held up a hand, stopping Dory from leaving her mother’s company. “I will make the necessary arrangements.”
“I have heard you tend toward women’s work.” His lordship wobbled away from the stability of the wall.
“Geoffrey, please sit down before you fall and hurt yourself,” Margaret said. She rolled her eyes.
Not offended, Thomas stifled the laugh building. “I think our definitions of ‘women’s work’ might differ, my lord.” Stepping to the door, he instructed Crowly to call for tea.
“Is that why you have a gorilla for a butler? Need someone to do the manly work for you?” Geoffrey’s speech slurred and he wobbled on his feet.
“Father, that is enough.”
“Not nearly. This man is a thief.” He pointed one bony finger at Thomas. “You’ve married beneath you and to a man known to be a conniving sneak who tore through the underbelly of France. You think him a hero, but he did not stand and fight. He crept around and skulked in dark corners. You cannot imagine what you have aligned yourself with.”
Dory stood. “I am not property to be sold or stolen.”
Margaret touched Dory’s arm. “It is all right, Dory. He is in his cups, and what is done is done. Let him have his say.”
Geoffrey stormed across the room with his arm raised. “I am the injured party. I am owed compensation.”
Thomas stepped in front of the ladies before the earl could reach them. He wasn’t sure what his intentions were with his arm raised to strike, but he would take no chances. Margaret had remained calm, but Dory flinched at her father’s approach. That his Dory might have suffered abuse, beyond the emotional he already knew about, filled him with rage. “You will control yourself in my home, my lord, or you will remove yourself. I understand you are distressed. I cannot blame you. It was a shock to find out that Dorothea and I eloped. However, under the circumstances we felt we had little choice.”
“I do not give a damn about how you felt. I was about to sign a contract with Lord Hartly. You do not know what you have done. I will be ruined because of you.” He stuck his finger out, only an inch from Thomas’s nose, and then looked at Dory. “And you have ruined your mother and brother as well. You will leave the entire family destitute rather than do your duty. Your mother raised you to be a hellion. This is your fault, Margaret, never controlling her willfulness.”
“I see, Father. Everyone is at fault except you. You are blameless in all of this.”
“I…” He stumbled, grasped for the high-backed chair to his left, and missed. Geoffrey hit the floor like a sack of potatoes and lay still.
Crowly entered.
Thomas turned to the ladies. “Tea will arrive in a few minutes. I will put his lordship in the next room on the couch where he will be more comfortable and rejoin you in a moment.”
Dory’s face blushed bright but she managed a tight smile.
Thomas and Crowly lifted Castlereagh and carried him to the small parlor.
The earl never stirred, but his breathing was even and strong.
Instead of returning, Thomas gave the women a few minutes to talk. He was sure they had much to say and didn’t want to intrude too soon. When the maid arrived with the tea, he followed her in. “His lordship is resting comfortably. Those biscuits look delicious.”
“Thank you, Mr. Wheel,” Margaret said.
He snatched a biscuit from the tray and bowed to his mother-in-law. “As we are family now, I would be honored if you would call me Thomas, or just Wheel if you prefer.”
Her lips twitched in a quick and rare smile before settling back into her normal stoic mask. Turning her attention to her tea, she looked over the cup rim at Dory. “I noticed you took your lap harp with you.”
“Yes, Mother. If you wish it returned, I will have a footman put it in your carriage.”
He hated the way Dory’s voice shook and yearned to pull her into his arms and comfort her.
Margaret waved a hand. “No. It is yours. It is not as if your father would ever notice it missing. If you would like any other of your instruments, I shall have them sent over.”
A tear slid down Dory’s cheek. “My husband has a lovely array of fine instruments. I shall not lack for music.”
“That is good to hear. I know how important your music is to you.”
They spoke more like acquaintances than mother and daughter.
Markus was a warm, caring friend, but how he became that man was a mystery. It only just occurred to Thomas that all through school, Markus never spoke of his parents, though he often bragged about his sister and brother.
Thomas would do anything to end the misery Dory endured after a lifetime with these people.
Dory placed her teacup on the table. “If it wouldn’t be too much trouble, I would like to have my flute and the metronome from the pianoforte.”
“I will have them sent over tomorrow.” Margaret put her cup down and stood, forcing Thomas and Dory to stand as well.
“You are leaving?” Dory kept her tone level, but a touch of panic hid behind her question.
Smoothing her skirts, Margaret nodded. “I have what I came for. You are well and in good hands. I know your father is angry about his losses, but I am glad you are not married to that old man, even if he would have given you a title. You will do well as Mrs. Wheel.”
Thomas said, “I thought you wanted Dorothea married to a peer of the realm? If I would have suited all along, why did you push the marriage to Hartly?”
“Of course I wanted my only daughter to make a good match. That was my duty to her and to my husband. If she had accepted any of the perfectly fine offers she had in the last five years, all would have been well. However, what is done is done and you are a very wealthy man, Mr. Wheel. You are not titled and that is unfortunate, but Dorothea must have gone to great lengths to secure you in marriage and avoid the arrangement with Hartly. My liking the outcome is beside the point. I do not wish to lose my daughter completely. You must do as a son-in-law.”
So much of what she said was offensive, he was at a loss for how to respond and remain a gentleman. “I suppose I should thank you, madam, but I find that difficult to do. I am glad for Dory’s sake you will remain a part of our lives.”
Margaret’s lips twitched in half a smile. “An adequate response.”
He bowed.
Dory blushed and shifted from foot to foot. “I am sure this is all difficult for you, Mother. I appreciate you coming here and not making a scene.”
“I leave the scenes to your father. Wheel, if you will have a footman put his lordship in the carriage, I will take him home to rest.”
Thomas bowed. “Do you need me to send a footman along to help you into your home?”
“No. The staff knows how to deal with these situations.”
Dory took her mother’s hand. “I am glad you came.”
Margaret’s stare lasted several beats longer than was natural. Perhaps she was steeling her emotions or deciding if more needed saying. “I am as well.”
Neither woman was willing or able to force out the words that needed saying.
Thomas backed away on a bow and instructed Crowly to load his lordship as discreetly as possible.
As soon as the front door closed with her parents on the outside, Dory stumbled over to a small stool in the corner of the foyer and sank onto it.
With one look, Thomas cleared the staff from the area. He knelt in front of her. “Whatever else transpired today, Dory, you must see how your mother cares for your wellbeing.”
She dashed away several tears. “Yes. I only wish she was loving like Sophia’s and Elinor’s mothers. I yearn for a conversation with her that leaves me feeling good and happy instead of tired and incomplete.”
His heart broke for her, but he pushed away the emotion. “Wanting a person to be different than they are is a waste of your energy. She is who she is and neither you nor anyone else will change her. Wanting what she cannot give only sets your mother up to fail time and time again. It is not fair to her and is detrimental to you. Accept her. What she did here today could not have been easy for her. You and I broke all her precious rules and yet she is happy for you because she believes you are in a better situation than she could provide. Your mother loves you, Dory.”
“I suppose, in her way, she does.”
A change of subject was in order. “We talked about paying a visit to my mother in the country. Shall we go in a few weeks? Perhaps you might invite your brother Adam to join us there. I imagine he might like it more than a trip home.”
She stared into his eyes for a long moment tears brimming her bottom lids. “You are a nice man.”
He laughed. “You sound surprised. Was it not you who proposed to me?”
“No. Not surprised as much as—never mind. I think Adam would be happy to spend his break with us. Markus often invites him, but he still grieves for Emma, and with the baby he has enough to deal with.”
He wished she would have finished her original sentence. Other than knowing she would never love him, he did not know how she felt. If she could like him, it might be enough. Maybe. His chest was on fire with his own wants and desires. It was too much. “I must get back to work. Will you be all right?”
She stood and he followed to his feet.
Swallowing down whatever else she might have said, she met his gaze. “I am fine. Thank you for your kindness to my parents. I know they are difficult and you were a perfect gentleman, even with Father. I will rest until dinner unless you require me for something.”
Required her for something. He ached for her body pressed to his and to bury himself deep inside her softness. “You should rest. I will see you at dinner.”
He waited at the bottom of the stairs as she climbed and turned down the hallway out of sight. Another ache tore at his heart.
* * * *
Tom wished he could ease her worry as he watched Dory fuss with the lace on her gown. She would tear the delicate material before the carriage reached the Marlton townhouse.
He covered her hand with his. “Relax. These are our friends.”
“Yes. I know. I am being ridiculous.” Pulling her hand away, she sighed then smoothed her skirt.
Appearing in public as Mrs. Thomas Wheel could not be easy for her after being Lady Dorothea Flammel all her life.
The carriage pulled to a stop. London evenings were growing cooler. Thomas waved off the footman and jumped down to offer Dory a hand down.
Thanking him, she took his arm and held her head high as they walked up the stoop.
The dinner party was lively, with more people present than Thomas had anticipated. He stifled a groan as Serena Dowder skipped over to them.
“Mr. Wheel, how wonderful to see you. I suppose I must wish you felicitations on your marriage.” She curtsied.
Thomas bowed. “Of course, you know my wife, Dorothea Wheel.”
Serena took Dory’s arm and pulled her away. “I know we shall be even better friends now that you are married, Mrs. Wheel. It sounds so strange to call you that. It must be odd to hear it.”
Daniel crossed the room and shook Thomas’s hand. “I am glad you are here. I hope you do not mind that we invited a few people outside our usual crowd.”
“I appreciate the invitation, Dan. I was worried we would receive none and Dory would be bored to death with only me for entertainment.” They walked into the parlor and Daniel poured him a brandy.
Keeping an eye on Dory, he hated the frown she wore. Whatever the Dowder girl was saying, it was not pleasing.
Dinner was pleasant, though Dory sat at the other end of the long table. It was customary to seat married couples apart. Sophia did not usually adhere to the London dogma, but she was playing it by the book that evening. Probably to ensure no scandal would be attached to Dory and his married debut.
Miles Hallsmith was an amiable fellow and he chatted about his horse breeding operation throughout dinner. Why Sophia had to seat her brother, Anthony, next to Dory, Tom couldn’t understand. He thought Sophia was his friend. Her brother was far too good-looking to spend time with Dory, and yet he always seemed to be there, churning up jealousy. Until she proposed to him, Thomas hadn’t been jealous since he was a boy.
“Are you all right, Wheel?” Miles asked.
“Yes. Fine. How many foals do you have this year?” Tom turned away from Dory and forced himself not to look back.
Miles grinned. “Seven, and all fine stock. Do you think you might like to take a look?”
“Maybe. I have some other prospects with my land and the Westgrove lands. I need to sort that out before I consider more livestock.”
“No rush. I do not want to take them from their mothers just yet anyway. Write me if you wish to make the trip to the country and see them.”
“Thank you, Hallsmith. I will in a few months.”
The remains of the evening went quickly, even though Dory was whisked away from him at every turn. Even after when they gathered for cake, that silly Serena Dowder pulled her into a corner and the two talked in hushed tones.
Dory stared out the window on the ride home, her expression mild and unreadable.
“Are you all right, Dory?”
“Fine.” She sighed.
“What were you and Miss Dowder talking about so intimately?”
“You.” She turned on the bench and stared at him. Eyes glowing in the moonlight, she was like a goddess.
“Me? What could Serena Dowder have to say about me?”
“She was wishing us well and saying how she thought it grand that you chose me as she was not certain that you and she would have suited at all. Your affections for her were clearly faint at best.”
His gut twisted. “My affections for her? I have no affection for that ninny.”
“Her father is wealthy and titled. She has a hefty dowry. You could have done much worse.” Dory tugged the lace on her skirt.
“I suppose that is true, but I never had any intention of offering for her. Nor did I make any overtures that might have given the girl the impression I would.”
Dory shrugged. “She saw it differently.”
“Clearly. But it is irrelevant. I am your husband and that will not change.” He meant to reassure her, but his annoyance with Serena Dowder rang in his tone and it came out harsh and cold.
“Indeed.” The carriage stopped and she rushed to the door before Thomas could help her down.