Weddings of the Century: A Pair of Wedding Novellas(52)
There was a long silence. Even with her eyes closed, Sunny knew that her maid was surveying the disordered bedchamber and probably drawing accurate conclusions.
Tactful Antoinette said only, “After I straighten the room, I shall leave. Perhaps later you would like tea and toast?”
“Perhaps.”
As the maid quietly tidied up the evidence of debauchery, someone knocked on the door and handed in a message. After the footman left, Antoinette said, “Monsieur le Due has sent a note.” Sunny came tensely awake. “Leave it on the table.”
After the maid left, Sunny sat up in bed and stared at the letter as if it were a poisonous serpent. Then she swung her feet to the floor. Only then did she realize that she was stark naked. Worse, her body showed unaccustomed marks where sensitive skin had been nipped, or rasped by a whiskered masculine face. And her body would not be the only one marked this morning....
Face flushed, she darted to the armoire and grabbed the first nightgown and wrapper she saw. After she was decently covered, she brushed her wild hair into submission and pulled it into a severe knot When she could delay no longer, she opened the waiting envelope.
She was not sure what she expected, but the scrawled words, "I’m sorry. Thornborough" were a painful letdown. What was her husband sorry about? Their marriage? His wife’s appallingly wanton nature? His own disproportionate rage, which had led him to humiliate her?
The use of his title rather than his Christian name was blunt proof that the moments of intimacy she had imagined the night before were an illusion. Crumpling the note in one hand, she buried her face in her hands and struggled against tears.
The wretched circle of her thoughts was interrupted by another knock. Though she called out, “I do not wish for company,” the door swung open anyhow.
In walked Katie Westron, immaculately dressed in a morning gown and with a tray in her hands. “It’s past noon, and you and I were engaged to take a drive an hour ago.”
She set the tray down and surveyed her goddaughter. “You look quite dreadful, my dear, and they say that Thornborough left Cottenham this morning at dawn, looking like death.”
So he was gone. Apparently he couldn’t bear being under the same roof with her any longer. Trying to mask the pain of that thought, Sunny asked, “Are people talking?”
“Some, though not as much as they were before I said that Thornborough had always intended to leave today because he had business at Swindon.” Briskly Katie opened the draperies so that light flooded the room. “And as I pointed out, who wouldn’t look exhausted after a late night at such a delightful ball?”
“He was planning to leave early, but not until tomorrow.” Sunny managed a wry half smile. “You lie beautifully.”
“It’s a prime social skill.” Katie prepared two cups of coffee and handed one to Sunny, then took the other and perched on the window seat. “There’s nothing like coffee to put one’s troubles in perspective. Have a ginger cake, too, they’re very good.” After daintily biting one, Katie continued, “Would you like to tell me why you and Thornborough both look so miserable?”
The scalding coffee did clear Sunny’s mind. She was in dire need of the advice of an older and wiser woman, and she would find no kinder or more tolerant listener than her godmother.
Haltingly she described her marriage: the distance between her and her husband, her loneliness, her encounter with Paul Curzon and the shocking result. Of the last she said very little, and that with her face burning, but she suspected that her godmother could make a shrewd guess about what went unsaid. At the end, she asked, “What do you think?”
“Exactly why are you so upset?” Katie asked bluntly After long thought, Sunny said slowly, “I don’t understand my marriage, my husband or myself. In particular, I find Justin incomprehensible. Before, I thought he was polite but basically indifferent to me. Now I think he must despise me, or he would never have treated me with such disrespect.”
Katie bit into another cake. “Do you wish to end the marriage?”
“Of course I don’t want a divorce!”
“Why ‘of course’? There would be a ghastly scandal, and some social circles exclude all divorced women, but as a Vangelder, you would be able to weather that.”
Sunny sorted through her tangled thoughts. “It would be humiliating for Thornborough. If I left him, people would think that he mistreated me horribly.”
Katie’s brows arched. “Aren’t you saying that he did exactly that?”
“In most ways, he’s been very considerate.” She thought of the bathroom that he had had installed for her, and almost smiled. Not the most romantic gift, perhaps, but one that gave her daily pleasure.
“You’d be a fool to live in misery simply to save Thornborough embarrassment,” Katie said tartly. “A little singed pride will be good for him, and as a duke he will certainly not be ruined socially. He can find another wife with a snap of his fingers. The next one might not be able to match your dowry, but that’s all right. The Swindon roof has already been replaced, and you can hardly take it back. What matters is that you’ll be free to find a more congenial husband.”
The thought of Justin with another wife made Sunny’s hackles rise. “I don’t want another husband.” She bit her lip. “In fact, I can’t imagine being married to anyone else. It would seem wrong. Immoral.”