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As soon as the thought entered her head, it was as if that bubble burst. Her mouth went dry.
It will be alright, she told herself fervently.He will understand, after I explain it all. I must cling to that hope.
Suddenly, Lady Withington, the hostess of the evening, was bearing down upon them smiling brightly.
“Well, if it is not the couple of the hour,” she declared crisply. “The newlyweds! We were all so happy to hear of your sudden nuptials.” She pushed herself between them, taking Patricia’s arm. “You simply must tell me all, my dear. I am agog with curiosity and shall not leave your side until I have a full account. We can leave the gentlemen to their business.”
Patricia forced a smile onto her face, as the lady led her off. Lord Withington was steering Jackson in the opposite direction. She glanced over her shoulder quickly, watching as her husband vanished into the crowd. She already felt bereft by his absence in a way she could not explain, even to herself.
* * *
Jackson sat down in the billiard room, accepting a cigar and brandy as he glanced around. There were already a dozen gentlemen in here. Four were hovering around the billiard table, cues in hand. Several were playing cards at tables that had been set up for the purpose. The air was thick with cigar smoke.
Lord Withington grunted as he sat opposite, leaning forward to light Jackson’s cigar. “Here we are, at long last. What was it you wanted to speak to me about, Merriweather? I am all ears.”
Jackson opened up his mouth to reply, then abruptly closed it, as he felt eyes upon him. He glanced up quickly.
It was Lord Gingham, near the mantelpiece. He was holding a piece of paper in his hand. But as he discerned Jackson’s eyes upon him, he hastily stuffed it in his pocket, quickly looking away.
Jackson shrugged, turning back to Lord Withington. Gingham had always been a bit of an oddball. He pushed the strange occurrence out of his mind, concentrating on the task at hand. The sooner he finished this business, the sooner they could leave this ball, and have the talk that Patricia wanted. She seemed intent on it. He wondered what was bothering her. Did it have something to do with why she had hidden away in her chambers, after their ride?
A sudden sense of unease swept over him. He tried to brush it aside. They would talk when they got the chance. He would make sure of it.
A sudden glow suffused him, and fire shot through his loins. And then he had plans for her that had nothing to do with speaking at all.
* * *
Patricia glanced around the ballroom breathing a sigh of pure relief. Lady Withington had finally drifted away, after insisting upon talking with her about her sudden marriage for over ten minutes. She had managed to bite her tongue, and not get riled up, when Lady Withington made heavy hints about any underlying reasons for marrying so suddenly.
“Of course, the Duke is a lovely man,” the lady had said, smiling tightly. “All of thetonknow it. But he has been ever so withdrawn since his time at war…on account of his poor maimed face.” She had shuddered delicately. “You are a pearl, your Grace, for managing to see beyond the façade. I know many ladies who cannot even look him in the eye for all his charm and wit.”
Patricia had reddened, only just managing to swallow a stinging retort. “My husband is more than his scar, Lady Withington. So very much more, I do assure you.”
The lady had laughed gaily. “What a loyal wife you are! You are perfectly splendid. Your mother has raised you well, your Grace. Us ladies must work with what we have been given, do we not?”
Patricia had felt like slapping her face.
She gazed moodily around the ballroom again trying to shake off the irritating conversation. She must expect this. Lady Withington was just the same as most of thetonafter all. They were all as superficial as each other, with few exceptions. Until the shock of their abrupt marriage had faded, she would have to endure this.
For a moment, she was seized with longing to escape London. Jackson wanted to leave soon – he talked in glowing terms about Thornbury Manor, his house in Norfolk by the sea. Perhaps there they could leave all of the furore surrounding their abrupt marriage behind and create their own life. Once she had spoken to him about her family’s troubles of course.
Not long now. It shall happen soon.
Patricia suddenly tensed. Two ladies were approaching her. It was Lady Beatrice Norris and Miss Eliza Pearson. Two very fashionable and haughty young ladies, who ruled the roost at society events. Patricia had never been able to stand them.
“Why if it is not the new Duchess of Merriweather,” cried Lady Beatrice, fluttering her fan. “How lovely you look this evening. Marriage must suit you.”
Patricia smiled tightly. “Thank you, Beatrice. You are all kindness as always.”
“Congratulations, Patricia,” said Eliza, looking her up and down, in an insolent fashion. “You have snagged a prize pony.” Her eyes slid to Lady Beatrice. “If you are able to look past the pony’s obvious defects of course.”
Patricia blushed scarlet. The two of them tittered together.
“You are a braver lady than I, Patricia,” declared Lady Beatrice after their laughter subsided. “The Duke is wealthy indeed, but I could not look on his face every day for the rest of my life.”
“I do not notice his scar any longer,” she said quickly, flushing brighter. “My husband is a kind and honorable gentleman. Those things mean more to me than appearance.”
They laughed again, almost doubling over this time. It was so very pointed and rude that Patricia just stared at them in shock. She had expected some subtle digs about Jackson and her sudden marriage, like Lady Withington had delivered, but not outright cruelty.
