Annette Blair - Scandalous Brides

“Oh, my,” she breathed. “We might as well have been on stage!”

“I fear so,” Jack agreed. Then, glancing about the nearly deserted courtyard, “Someone must have done quick work to assemble a crowd out here so quickly. I suppose such an inducement overcame the cold, however, for many of the guests.”

Nessa managed to pull her eyes away from the divan above. “I had hoped this would be an entertaining evening, but I little thought to provide the entertainment myself!” In spite of her renewed mortification, she could not suppress a rueful laugh.

“Nor I. But Nessa—” His voice suddenly became more serious. “I heard you earlier, saying you regretted being unable to accompany that young jackanapes to Paris. Why did you never tell me you wished to go after all?”

“I didn't… that is, Sir Lawrence was trying to convince me to run away with him, and I refused in no uncertain terms.” She paused, looking up at him curiously. “Do you mean you would be willing to take me to Paris?” Sudden excitement flared within her.

“After this evening's events, it occurs to me that it might be to our benefit to discreetly remove ourselves from the London scene for awhile, until a new scandal arises to dim the memory of ours.” He grinned down at her. “I'd thought of simply returning to Fox Manor, but a belated wedding trip to Paris would serve as well—and might also serve another purpose.”

Paris! She could finally see that fabled city of glitter, excitement and sophistication. But— “What other purpose do you mean?”

His smile now was cryptic. “We shall see. I'll simply say that in Paris you may see enough of scandal to finally satisfy your curiosity— if this evening's exploits have not already done so.”

She tilted her head saucily. “If they have, you can hardly expect me to admit it, and thereby endanger my visit to Paris, my lord! When shall we leave?”

He shook his head, as though in disbelief. “You, madam, are incorrigible. Let me see… I have a few matters to attend to in Parliament yet. We can stop at Fox Manor on our way to Dover, so that I may take care of estate business there. I should say we might take ship within a fortnight or so.”

“A fortnight!” In Paris, she could broaden her horizons far past what was possible in London, she was sure! What sights, what people, what experiences must await there— and in only two weeks time!

“I'll be ready well within a fortnight, I promise you,” she declared. “I can scarcely wait!”

~ ~ ~

AS IT HAPPENED, it was a fortnight to the day before they finally boarded the packet bound for Calais. Nessa had spent a busy, if rather lonely, week, preparing Foxhaven House and its staff for their extended absence. Very few people had called, and those who did were not ones she felt disposed to receive. Most were scandal-mongers, undoubtedly hoping to glean additional details to embellish their gossip. Pleading a lack of time— quite truthfully— she refused them all.

Only Prudence did she admit, and she did not stay long. But at least her motive was beyond question.

“Philip and I are expecting a child,” she informed Nessa with obvious delight. “I'm not certain which of us is more thrilled. He feels the Season will be too much for me, under the circumstances, so we shall return to Herefordshire and likely remain for at least a year. You will come to visit me, will you not, Nessa?”

Nessa jumped up to hug her sister. “Oh, Prudence, what marvelous news! And of course I'll visit, as soon as we return from Paris.” And she had perforce to explain her own plans.

Prudence expressed some concern, but was clearly too happy to dwell upon it. “I will trust you to do what is right,” she concluded. “Certainly by now you have learned your lesson! I only hope Jack, er, Lord Foxhaven will make you as happy as Philip has made me.”

She took her leave shortly thereafter, leaving Nessa to the remainder of her preparations. A day or two later, when Jack announced his current business in London complete, they loaded up the traveling coach and headed for Fox Manor, where they had agreed to spend a week.

Nessa found herself peering ahead as they neared the estate, eager to see it again. In fact, she realized, this was the closest to a feeling of homecoming she'd ever experienced. Returns to Cherry Oaks as a child had always been marred by fear of an almost inevitable scolding. As for Haughton Abbey, even when she'd grown comfortable there, she had never learned to love it. Fox Manor, however, felt like home.

Part of the charm, of course, consisted in the healing of the rift between Jack and herself. They were now back to the easy camaraderie— and passionate nights— of the early days of their marriage. Sometimes Nessa even dared to hope that his feelings for her went deeper than a combination of lust and friendship, but she was careful not to press for any sort of declaration.

Still, if any place might elicit such a development, it would be Fox Manor, she thought. Almost, it was enough to make her suggest a longer stay here, putting off the excitement of Paris.

Almost.

As the day of their departure approached, Nessa's excitement mounted. Even more than London, Paris promised to show her a side of life she'd previously only imagined. And now, at last, they were on their way.

Forgotten was the chill drizzle that had pursued them from Foxhaven to Dover. Even the thin fog through which the packet made its way could not dampen her spirits.

“Thank you, Jack, for suggesting this,” she said as they stood side by side at the rail.

He draped an arm over her shoulders, driving away the cold she'd scarcely noticed, and looked ahead as she did. “Wait to thank me after you've had a chance to absorb some impressions from what is reputed to be the wickedest city on earth,” he said teasingly. “You may find Paris more than you've bargained for.”

Nessa grinned into the mist. “I hope so!”

TWENTY

‘HERE WE ARE,” Jack announced, as the coach taking them the final stage of their journey reached the outskirts of Paris. “We should reach our hotel in ten minutes or so. Unless my message missent, a room will be ready for us. You'll wish to rest before launching yourself upon the city, I imagine.”

Nessa pulled her face away from the window with obvious reluctance. “Oh, I am not at all tired, Jack! How could I possibly rest when all of Paris awaits?”

He chuckled, trying to ignore his misgivings. When he'd suggested Paris, he'd had more in mind than leaving London until the talk died down. He was counting on this most wicked city to finally cure Nessa of her craving for the seamier side of life—a side he knew far too well. He just hoped he wouldn't regret bringing Nessa here, to the site of so much he had put behind him.

His wife had amply proved she was no longer the prude he'd married. What if Paris, rather than giving her a disgust for debauchery, only increased her appetite? Warily, he glanced back to her rapt face, avidly taking in the street scene.

“Here we are. The Hotel des Cinq Astres.” The coach stopped even as he spoke.

“How lovely!” Nessa exclaimed, stepping out the moment the stairs were lowered—into ankle-deep sewage. “Oh, bother! I'd forgotten what you told me about the gutters. Now I shall have to change my shoes and stockings before we can explore.”

She wrinkled her nose, but seemed otherwise undaunted by her first step into filth. Carefully avoiding the free-flowing sewage, Jack helped her onto the relatively cleaner walkway before the front door of the hotel.

Ushering Nessa inside, he approached the concierge at the broad marble desk. “Rooms for Lord and Lady Foxhaven and their servants,” he said in flawless French and saw Nessa's eyes widen.