Chapter 4
On Wednesday morning, three days before the Flammel ball was to take place, a note arrived.
Tonight, at Southerton’s. If you leave your trunk in the gazebo near the back of your garden I shall have it picked up. All arrangements have been made.
T.
Heart beating wildly, Dory called her maid. Was she really doing this? Could she, after years of playing at being disobedient, be such a woman? A lifetime with Thomas Wheel. The idea was heady, but not terrible. Mrs. Thomas Wheel did not sound bad at all.
She sat on the edge of the bed and smoothed the coverlet, tracing the stitching and letting her mind wander. This was madness, but the alternative was crazier still.
Her maid scratched at her bedroom door and entered.
“Emily, I need your help.”
Emily crossed her arms over her chest. “What’s wrong now? Has that father of yours done something we must cover up?”
“It’s far worse than that. He plans to sell me to a man three times my age to get himself out of debt.”
Emily’s dark curls shook with temper and she stomped her foot. “I know he’s my employer, but that man is no good.”
Sighing, Dory patted the bed next to her. “Sit with me a moment, Emily. I have a plan, but I will need your help.”
“What can I do?” Emily sat and took Dory’s hands.
“Thomas Wheel has agreed to marry me. It’s my only escape and I think maybe my only chance at happiness. Well, if not that, then at least I will have my music.” A weight pressed against her chest. She might be making a terrible mistake, but a life with Hartly was certain doom.
Eyes wide and face pale, Emily shook her head. “You’ll be ruined, miss.”
“I will be safe with a man who is good and kind rather than one who is an even worse version of my father. At least father doesn’t chase the servants. I have heard rumors about Hartly.” She shivered.
Emily squeezed her hands. “What do you need?”
“I need a small trunk packed and put in the gazebo.”
A tear rolled down Emily’s cheek. “I will take care of it.”
“What is wrong?”
She shook her head and dashed the tear away. “I will be sacked, is all.”
Dory hugged her, her heart full. “You do not think I would let mother put you out on the street do you, Emily? Pack your own trunk too and see that you are ready when the carriage comes for it.”
“What will your husband say?”
It was a good question. “I do not know, but we will see what Mr. Wheel is made of.”
Leaving Emily to do the packing, Dory went in search of her mother. She found the countess in her private parlor writing letters. “Oh, Dorothea, I am so glad you’re here. Do you think it impertinent to invite Prince George to your wedding?”
Her gut twisted. “It is high handed, Mother. We are not close personal friends with the prince. I had hoped for a small wedding with as little fuss as possible.”
A crease formed between Margaret Flammel’s eyes. “You have obligations as do we all, Dorothea. You will marry as befits a countess.”
“Of course, Mother.” Dory waited for her mother to return to her letter writing. “I would like to go to Southerton’s tonight.”
Margaret put aside her writing. “I had the distinct impression you dislike large fancy balls like Southerton’s.”
“I do, but I know you enjoy them and as I am soon to leave this house, I thought it might be nice to go together.”
Cocking her head, Margaret examined Dory. “I think it is a wonderful idea. We have not attended one of Lady Southerton’s balls in some time. It will be a good opportunity to be seen in public before your marriage.”
Dory wished for a relationship with her mother filled with more than lies and posturing, but it had always been this way. Her mother used her to get back at her father and for social status and Dory used her mother’s vanity and social climbing to get what she wanted. They had been playing the same games since Dory was a child and she didn’t know how to stop. “I had better prepare if we are to get there early enough to make an impression.”
Margaret looked at the clock. “I have a few letters to write. Half the day gone. We shall manage to be ready before eleven, Dorothea.”
“Of course we will, Mother.”
* * * *
The ball at Southerton’s was a crush of people all vying for the attention of this one or that. As soon as they arrived, Margaret found a passel of women with whom she was acquainted. “Go dance with the Earl of Ridgley, Dorothea. Do not waste the evening. We can make a few advantageous connections before you take your vows.”
It sounded as if she were joining a convent rather than marrying. Dory left her mother and wove her way through the crowded ballroom. The heat swamped her, and between that and her nerves, a wave of dizziness swept over her. Gripping a column, she steadied herself before making for the garden doors.
She was steps away from fresh air. A hand closed around her wrists.
Sanford Wormfield gripped her hard enough to leave a bruise. “Lady Dorothea, where are you going in such a hurry?”
Her head rang with Thomas’s warning to stay away from this man. “I do not believe we have been introduced, sir. Therefore, you have no right to accost me in such a way.”
When he smiled the scar on his face deepened to purple. “Oh, but you know who I am and I certainly know you. My employer has an interest in you and so I am at your service.”
“Are you trying to scare me, sir?”
“Why would I want to do that?”
The syrup in his voice nauseated her. “I have no idea, but you are holding me hostage and I do not know you. Unhand me before I scream for help.” Dory prayed he did not wish to be discovered. She knew she didn’t, but her choices were limited.
He leaned in until his face was an inch from hers. He smelled of day-old tobacco and cheap whisky. “If you dance with me I will leave you in peace.”
“I do not dance with strange men.”
Letting go of her, he bowed low. “I am Sanford Wormfield. I am the assistant to the Earl of Hartly. Certainly, you can spare one dance for a man who is practically family.”
“Where is his lordship?” She searched the room.
“Playing cards with your father in the parlor. You see, we are already closer than you think.”
There was something evil about Sanford Wormfield. His stink turned her stomach while his stare sent chills down her spine. “I will not dance with you. It would cause a scandal and I have no use for being the center of gossip. Now, walk away, Mr. Wormfield, or I will scream and bring the entirety of this ballroom down upon you.”
Danger flashed in his pitch eyes. He bowed. “Until we meet again, Lady Dorothea. I’m sure once you are under Hartly’s roof, you will form a different opinion of me.”
He was not a full step away from her before she bolted for the garden. She ran down the verandah steps. Looking back, she tripped and had to catch herself. There was no sign of Wormfield, so she slowed her pace to look for Thomas.
Inside the ballroom, the ladies and gentlemen feigned prudence, but in the garden was a different story. The property had an elaborate garden with a maze of high shrubbery and alcoves. Benches were tucked away at the edge of the path. Dory couldn’t find a bench or niche where couples didn’t steal a kiss or more. She longed to run as far away as she could. She wanted no part of this world she’d been born into. Skirting a man with shiny Hessians and a long mustache, she bumped into a rotund woman whose dress dipped low enough to expose the pink of her areola.
The woman smirked at her before returning her attention to a young man who kissed the top of her breast. Smothered by the flesh of her bosom, he moaned.
Dory excused herself and ran farther into the garden’s dark pathways and towering shrubs. Her heart pounded and she trembled. Images of men and women in various embraces flew past her as she ran.
Thomas stepped in front of her, blocking her path.
She clutched her chest trying to catch her breath.
“What’s wrong?” Dressed for Southerton’s, he wore tan knee breeches and a crisp white cravat tied in the traditional style. He held his hat under his arm.
“N-nothing. Why would you think something is wrong?” Swallowing her panic, Dory pulled her shoulders back and clutched her satin reticule.
“Well, you were running as if the devil was chasing you. Were you running away from something or toward it?” His blue eyes bore into her.
“I have no response that will not make me seem like a complete fool.”
His grin was addictive and revealed straight white teeth. Stepping in closer, he took her elbow. “You need not do this, Dory. I will not hold it against you if you have changed your mind.”
Hartly’s rotting, crooked smirk flashed in her mind. That image and the moments with Wormfield in the ballroom were more than enough to keep her mind made up. “I have not changed my mind. If you are still willing, I want to go with you.”
He led her even deeper into the maze of shrubbery and paths. “Do you not even want to ask where I am taking you?”
“It does not matter.”
“But it will at some point, Dory. You are afraid now. You want to get away from a terrible situation. I understand, but at some point, you will open your eyes from this nightmare and find yourself married to me. You will be Mrs. Thomas Wheel. If that is another kind of nightmare for you, then you have given up far too much to achieve it.” He said it all like a businessman, but underneath was worry and sorrow.
Dory threaded her fingers through his. Even through their gloves, he warmed her. Tugging his hand, she pulled him off the main path and into a private niche cut into the shrubs. “You are not a nightmare, but my savior. Forgive me if I looked less than enthusiastic, but this is an insane thing we are about to do. I have always been a willful daughter, but this is something altogether different.”
He brushed a stray hair off her cheek. “And again, I must say, you need not do this.”
“The alternative is unacceptable.”
“I agree, but perhaps you can talk to your parents and find another solution.”
A wave of nausea swamped her. “You do not want to marry me. Of course, how could you? Forgive me for putting you in this position. I am a terrible person to have done this.”
“Dory, marrying you is the only part of this plot I like. Believe me when I tell you that if I had a title to offer you, I would have proposed last year. My only concern is for you. This will ruin you. Being Mrs. Wheel is not the same as being the daughter of the Earl of Castlereagh. Marrying beneath your station will gain you nothing but the censure of the ton.”
“Thomas, I want to marry you.” Her head swam with emotions. This man could save her. Kind and handsome, he would stand by her no matter the consequences. She’d never had that from either of her parents.
Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes. When he opened them, the intensity was enough to make her heart skip a beat. “Then I suggest we go before you are missed.”
“I left a note for my parents. I don’t want them to think you’ve kidnapped me. The butler will find it before Mother arrives home from the ball tonight.” She hated the way her voice shook.
He wrapped a loose lock of her hair around his finger and leaned closer. “That was wise as long as the butler doesn’t find it too soon.”
It was hard to catch her breath with him so close and so large. He towered over her, yet there was no threat of him harming her. A perfect gentleman in every way, Thomas would see she was safe. Though the way his gaze devoured her, she doubted herself. “My parents’ house runs like a clock, everything the same, every day. Ward, the butler, will check my father’s study at precisely two in the morning to verify that it is tidy and the brandy decanter is full for when my father arrives home. On Wednesday, Father will pull in around three o’clock.”
“And your mother?” His breath was warm and tickled the side of her face.
“I do not know what will happen tonight. Normally, we would return home at two-thirty, but when she cannot find me, I cannot say what will happen.”
His lips grazed her temple.
The light kiss shook her soul and she had to grab his arm to keep her feet. The full moon illuminated the angles of his face, turning him into a creature of myth. She gazed into his eyes and his lips captured hers.
Just as it had in his study, the world collapsed into that moment in time. Lost in the kiss, nothing else existed. His lips were soft and strong and he wrapped his arm around her waist possessively. His other hand cupped her throat, caressing her flesh like she was a crystal goblet and might shatter if he applied any pressure.
It wasn’t as if she’d never been kissed before. Several young men had stolen kisses over the last two seasons. But this was something else. There was passion behind Thomas’s kisses that went beyond the physical. His lips made her yearn for more.
Her heartbeat tripled and her skin prickled calling for his touch. There was a soft moan, which she knew was her own, and a low groan from him.
He pulled back and she stumbled in his arms. “Dory, you are amazing.”
“Thank you, though I have no idea what you mean.”
Pressing his lips to the top of her head, he gave her a brief hug. “Come, I have a carriage waiting at the back gate.”
This was really happening.
He offered his arm.
She hesitated before accepting.
“Dory, you are pale as a sheet. Are you certain this is what you want?” He led her through the gardens with the ease of a man who sneaked around often.
“I will not lie. I am terrified.”
“Shall I return you to your mother?” He stopped at the back gate. They were alone with only the moon to light the way. He faced her. Placing his finger under her chin, he encouraged her to look him in the eye. They shone like sapphires in the night.
“If I go back my life is forfeit. My father has sold me to pay off his foolish debts. I cannot go back.” Her voice caught, despite her determination to be brave.
He shook his head kept his gaze averted. “I was not sure you knew the circumstances of the arrangement with Hartly.”
“Father is always forthright. He told Mother and me everything. He always tells everything. His fatherly advice included waiting a full month before I found myself a proper lover.”
“He did not say that?”
“He did.”
“I am sorry, Dory.”
She drew in a long breath and squared her shoulders. “I am ready to go now, Tom.”
“We have to wait here for another moment or two.” He stepped close and held her. Lowering his head for a kiss, but stopping short and staring into her eyes.
It was difficult to gain enough breath to speak whilst in his arms. “Why? I thought you said the carriage was waiting.”
“It is, but we need to do one last thing before we go. It is the thing that will keep your mother from tearing Southerton’s apart tonight.”
Voices filtered in from the left. Some familiar and some not.
Serena Dowder laughed and stepped into view. She nodded to Thomas and tugged Lady Pemberhamble’s arm.
Pemberhamble stared open-mouthed at Dory and Thomas.
Thomas grabbed Dory’s hand and pulled her through the gate, into the alley where his carriage waited.
He was clever to arrange for the most notorious gossip in London to see them leave together. It would cause a scandal, but it would also keep her mother from assuming a nefarious plot was at hand. She cringed at what would be in the paper once Pemberhamble spread the word, but it couldn’t be helped.
Once in the carriage they rumbled down the streets of London. The silence between them loomed like poison.
Dory watched as the Southerton townhouse grew smaller out the window. She was not likely to be welcomed back again. Why should that bother her? She had never cared much for society balls and social clubs. She preferred to choose her own friends.
Still she stared at the card and the red embossed seal in the corner.
Thomas patted her hand. “You may yet have use for it, my lady.”
She tucked it back into her reticule. “It doesn’t matter. I do not enjoy those events much anyway.”
“It is not the events so much as the invitations one misses.” He’d captured it.
Hartly’s hideous face and hunched body reminded her that this was the right thing to do.
She shrugged. “Are we going to Gretna Green?”
“No. I have had a better idea.”
“Where are we going?” Her brother and Sophia adored Thomas, but what did she know about him? Maybe he would take advantage of her and leave her in some village to fend for herself. She was being an idiot, but she couldn’t keep her mind from conjuring one horror after another.
“I thought you might like to have a friend present at your wedding and since we both have friends living in Scotland…”
“We’re going to Kerburghe?”
He nodded.
Her dearest friend, Elinor, had married the Duke of Kerburghe. The two of them had moved to Scotland for the better part of the year. Her heart filled with joy. She would not stand alone at a foreign altar and speak sacred words with no family to hear them. Elinor would be with her. She leapt into Thomas’s arms. “Thank you.”
Laughing, he held her. “I am glad you are happy.”
Clinging to him, she kissed his cheek. “I could not be more thrilled.”
“I shall endeavor to keep you in this exact state of bliss for the rest of your days.”
She knew he was joking, despite the solemnity of his tone. Pushing away, she moved to take her own seat.
He held her and tucked her more firmly into his lap. “I wonder if you would let me hold you a few moments longer, Dory.”
“If you wish.”
“Because I am saving you?”
He was warm and comfortable. He filled her head with spice and manly scents that transformed into music inside her. She longed for a pianoforte or a scrap of paper. Breathing him in, she placed her head on his shoulder and her arms around his neck. “Because, this is nice and comfortable.”
He relaxed. “I am very glad you think so.”
“I have always liked you, Tom. As I told you before, I did not choose you on a whim, but with care and thought.”
“Because I love music and will not hinder you playing.” His tone was flat and his arms loosed around her.
Wishing for flowery phrases would not change who she was. Simple truth would have to do. “You are a good and kind man. You have done well in business. The gossip of you is always favorable. I like you more than most people and you never have been anything but respectful toward me. Also, my brother thinks the world of you.”
He laughed but there was no humor in the sound. “Anything else?”
He wanted romance and she wished she could give that to him, but it wasn’t the truth. “I know you are in love with Sophia and perhaps I might be a good substitute for unrequited love.”
His entire body tightened at once.
She’d made him angry. Dory pushed away, but he held her tight.
“Dory, listen to me very carefully. I am not nor have I ever been, in love with our friend Sophia. I am very fond of her and delighted for her happiness with Daniel.”
“I would like to go back to my own seat now.”
He released her and she scrambled across the carriage. It was not better to be looking at him. In his arms, she could hide from his all-knowing gaze.
She smoothed her skirt. “You offered to marry Sophia. I know it was a secret, but she told me.”
He closed his eyes, took a breath, and when he opened his eyes, there was a softness there that made her heart beat faster. “True. If Daniel had not married her, I would have prevailed upon her to marry me.”
“And I am sure you would have made her very happy. It is lucky for me that Lord Marlton came to his senses. Sophia and I have much in common. Hopefully, I am a fair substitute and will make you content.”
He rubbed his forehead and ran his hand through his shock of dark red hair.
“Perhaps I should not have said anything. We had said we would be honest with each other.” This was a bad beginning. She’d misread him, thinking he was as forthright as she, and now he was angry. Her heart pounded as she waited for him to bang on the carriage and demand the driver turn them around.
He leaned forward placing his elbows on his knees and staring into her eyes. “Dorothea, I am not in love with Sophia and I have never been. I thought we might suit because I like her. At the time, she needed a friend and Daniel was being an ass. You are not a substitute for anyone. I would never place you in comparison with our friend.”
“That is a relief, as I can never come close to Sophia’s goodness.” Dory swallowed the dread rising in her throat.
Shaking his head, he captured both her hands in his. “I wish you knew your worth, my dear.” He kissed first the fingers on her left hand, and then those on her right before releasing her and sitting back against the bench cushion.