Joan Wolf (7 page)

The few people Mark and Laura saw in London during this time were all naval. They went to a dinner given by Viscount Melville, who was the present First Lord of the Admiralty, and there Laura met a number of the men who had known Mark over the course of his career. She had dressed carefully for the occasion, wanting him to be proud of her, and the warm glow in his eyes when he beheld her in her bronze velvet gown was her reward.

There were no uniforms worn at the dinner, but Laura thought secretly that most of the men present looked as though they ought to be wearing them. It was a revelation to her to see Mark in this company. He looked at home, alert but not wary. And he was obviously held in very high esteem by all these important men.

Captain Sir George Bouden, a gray-haired man in his late forties, was Laura’s dinner partner, and after some pleasant talk about the weather and the political situation, he seemed disposed to talk about Mark. Laura encouraged him shamelessly. “I don’t know much about this survey,” he told her. “Not my line at all, but Dartmouth has always been interested in it. He was always sketching and taking bearings, even when we were in the South Atlantic.”

“He is very scientific,” said Laura with a smile.

“I don’t know about science,” replied Sir George bluntly, “but I will say that I firmly believe he has no equal in the navy in any of the various qualities that constitute a seaman. He is a perfect navigator. A gallant and intelligent leader. An officer who excels in everything that relates to his profession. I’m damn glad to see he’s got himself married again, and to a girl like you.” He nodded at her approvingly, and Laura felt a little overwhelmed.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

‘Too many people in this town thrive on gossip,” he said abruptly. “Don’t you listen to them.”

“I have never liked gossip,” she said faintly, and wondered what on earth he was referring to. Surely the circumstances of Caroline’s suicide had not reached so far as London? Laura had been certain it was only a neighborhood scandal.

After dinner the ladies retired to the drawing room and Laura found herself the object of much curiosity, both covert and overt. The ladies were not as interested in Mark’s career as they were in his personal life.

“Such a tragic thing, poor Caroline,” Lady Morton said to her as they sat together on a velvet sofa. “I’m afraid everyone rather blamed Dartmouth for it, which was probably most unfair. For a while there it looked as if his career in the navy was finished.”

Laura hesitated a moment and then decided not to let this opportunity for information pass. “I had not realized the extent of the damage to his name,” she said frankly. “I had thought it was a local matter.”

Lady Morton raised a thin, well-bred eyebrow. “Caroline Gregory was the loveliest
,
most-sought-after girl of the Season,” she said. “There were a great number of disappointed young men when she married Dartmouth. And then to hear that that lovely, charming child had killed herself! It was a tremendous shock.”

“I see,” said Laura slowly. “Was it just the shock ... or were there other rumors?”

Lady Morton looked at her levelly; “It has just occurred to me that this is hardly the conversation I should be having with Dartmouth’s new bride.”

“It is rather late to think of that, my lady,” said Laura pleasantly. “Were there other rumors?”

“Yes. Oh, nothing terrible, nothing that seventy-five percent of the married men in London don’t do. Ignore their wives, I mean, and take a mistress. Only Caroline was such an obvious innocent, so fragilely lovely, so in love, that in her case it seemed very cruel. Especially, of course, in light of what happened.”

“I see,” Laura said again. She was looking very serious and Lady Morton suddenly reached over and covered her hand.

“I shouldn’t have said all that. You see, I knew the Gregorys rather well, and seeing you and Dartmouth together brought it all back. But it is over and finished with, my dear. One shouldn’t dwell on the past. It isn’t healthy.”

At this point there was the sound of men’s voices in the saloon and then Lord Melville appeared in the drawing-room doorway. He was talking to Mark. Mark’s head was bent toward his host and he was listening gravely, but as he stepped into the room his eyes swept around it quickly, stopping when they came to rest on Laura. She returned his look and it was in that minute that the unsettling and unfamiliar feelings she had been experiencing all week crystallized, and she knew she loved him.

 He said something to Lord Melville, who laughed, and then he was coming across the room toward her with the swift and unwavering gait of a man who is intent on claiming possession.

Laura was only too happy to be claimed, and when, after another hour, he suggested they leave, she took her departure with a prompt obedience that brought a glint of amusement and something else to her husband’s eyes.

Chapter Nine

Laura never mentioned her conversation with Lady Morton to Mark, and the second week of their honeymoon went by without any further reminders of the past. The past, it seemed, had buried itself. Mark’s reputation, from what Laura could see, could not be brighter. Before they left for Devon, Sir John Barrow, who was the Second Secretary of the Admiralty, asked if he might propose Mark for election to the Royal Society. Mark told her this news in a composed, unemotional voice, but Laura, who was learning to read him, could see that he was very pleased.

They returned to Castle Dartmouth on a cold, windy winter day. The carriage had barely stopped before the front door opened and a small boy dashed out, followed more sedately by the butler and several footmen.

“Laurie! Laurie! Laurie!” Robin shouted, jumping up and down beside the coach. Mark leaned over and opened the door and Robin tumbled m just as the footmen arrived to hand them out. Laura’s lap was suddenly full of Robin, who had his arms in a stranglehold around her neck, and she hugged him tightly, pressing her cheek against his bright hair.

“Oh, it’s good to see you, darling,” she said.

“I missed you,” he answered unnecessarily. Then he bounced over to Mark’s knees. “I missed you too, Papa.”

“You hide your emotions well,” his father said with a laugh. “Do you think you might let us get out of this carriage? We are both heartily sick of it, I assure you.”

“Of course,” said Robin, scrambling out and stepping on Laura’s foot in the process.

“Ow!” she yelped, and Mark grinned at her. “You’re home,” he said.

She gave a little sigh of contentment and allowed the footman to help her out. Lady Maria was standing on the top of the steps by this time, and they all moved toward her, with Robin calling out, again unnecessarily, “Here they are, Aunt Maria!”

After Mark and Laura had divested themselves of their outerwear they all went into the morning parlor, where a big fire was blazing brightly. They ordered tea and Laura sat down in a wing chair with Robin curled at her feet. Lady Maria took the sofa and Mark stood by the chimneypiece. “I have been sitting in that coach for two days now,” he said. “It feels good to stand up.”

Under cover of the general chatter, Lady Maria carefully studied the faces of the newly married couple. She was pleased by what she saw. Mark looked more relaxed than he had in years, she thought. He looked young again. And Laura—she watched Laura carefully as she was explaining something to Robin, and tried to put her finger on what about her was different. She
was
different.

 There was a difference in tile way she held herself, a difference in the look of her eyes. Mark said something teasingly, and she glanced at him for a minute, a slight smile on her lips. Suddenly Lady Maria, who, though she was fifty-five and unmarried, knew something of the world, understood what there was that was different about Laura.

 A little embarrassed by her own thoughts, she dropped her eyes to her teacup. When she raised them again to reply to something Mark had said, they were perfectly blank. By the time they all arose to go upstairs to change for dinner, Lady Maria was feeling extremely pleased with herself. This marriage had obviously been a brilliant idea, and she took full credit for it.

She remained at Castle Dartmouth for another few weeks. Laura planned to give a dinner party for twenty or so of their closest neighbors, and she asked Lady Maria to stay for it.

“It is not necessary for you to entertain so quickly, my dear,” the older woman protested to Laura when the plan had first been mentioned.

“I think it is,” replied Laura gravely. “I have received a number of bride visits and I think the sooner everyone sees that Mark and I are a perfectly normal couple with a perfectly normal marriage, the better it will be for us.”

She said “better for us,” but both of them knew she meant “better for Mark.” Lady Maria instantly volunteered to help her goddaughter with the arrangements for the proposed party.

It was the time of year people were to be found in the country, and of the twenty-four people invited, twenty-two accepted. Mark, Laura, and Lady Maria greeted their guests in the drawing room, and when everyone had assembled, they went in to dinner in the state dining room, which was resplendent with precious china, crystal, and silver. Laura faced Mark over the polished table. Lord Countisbury on one side other and Lord Monksleigh on the other. They were both men whom she had known ever since she first had come to Castle Dartmouth, and she was able to converse with them almost automatically. Her real attention was trained on the other side of the table, where Mark was talking to their wives.

It was during the soup course that Laura noticed she was not the only one in the room who seemed peculiarly aware of Mark, and it was not until dinner was almost over that she realized it was only the women who were so attuned. She puzzled over this for a few minutes and then, as she watched staid Lady Countisbury smile at him girlishly, she knew what the reason was.

 She shouldn’t be so surprised, she told herself ruefully. After all, she had reacted the same way herself. He had the kind of masculine good looks women would always respond to, and when he let his guard drop and his natural charm surface, he could be utterly devastating. She glanced once more around the table and smothered a smile. Everything, she thought, was going to be just fine.

Dinner drew to a close and Laura rose to her feet. Mark, who had hardly glanced at her since the beginning of dinner, rose instantly. “We will leave you gentlemen to your dissipations,” she said, and he smiled at her faintly.

“We won’t be too long.”

Some of the ladies went upstairs to tidy up, and Laura escorted the rest of them into the drawing room. Mrs. Dalton was playing the piano when the men came back into the room. Mark begged her to continue and went himself to stand by the piano. Sir Giles Gregory came over to sit by Laura. She had not seen him in quite some time. He had been away from home when her marriage was suggested, planned, and then concluded. She felt a little nervous about this meeting, but the face she showed to him was one of sweet serenity.

“I don’t think I shall ever grow accustomed to calling you Lady Dartmouth,” he said gravely.

She averted her eyes from his handsome face and answered lightly, “Then you must continue to call me Laura. You are Robin’s uncle, after all. I’m sure Mark would have no objection.”

He was silent for a moment, looking at her cameo-clear profile and digesting her words. “And you have given him the right to object, haven’t you?” he said at last.

“Yes,” she replied simply. She was looking across the room to where her husband stood by the piano.  In profile the curve of her eyelashes was very pronounced. There was the faint softness of a smile on her lips.

“Did you marry him for Robin’s sake?” Giles asked a little harshly, and at that she turned to look at him. His eyes were deeply blue and she felt a pang of guilt as she read the subdued longing in them.

“Partly,” she answered honestly. But she did not want to leave him with the wrong impression. The faint smile on her lips deepened and she said with equal honesty, “And Mark is very hard to resist.”

There was a pause, and something flickered behind his eyes. “I know,” he said then. “I’ve seen that before.”

Two pairs of blue eyes met and held, Laura’s dark and smoky, his clear and brilliant as twin sapphires.

“Forget the past, Giles,” she said at last. Her voice was very gentle. “We must all of us try now to build for the future. For our own sakes and for the sake of Caroline’s son.”

After a minute his gaze dropped. He looked suddenly very weary. “I suppose you are right, Laura. I will try.”

“Good.” She rose from her seat and went over to Lord Countisbury. “Shall we have some cards?” she asked, and at his response, set about organizing the tables.

* * * *

After they saw the last of the guests on their way, Lady Maria and Laura looked at each other with quiet triumph. They had been successful. Mark was talking to the butler, and his aunt gestured Laura back into the drawing room, where both ladies collapsed comfortably into chairs.

“I cannot thank you enough, my dear,” Lady Maria said sincerely to her goddaughter. “You were splendid. I think we can safely say that the past will trouble us no longer.”

“I think it went very well,” replied Laura with justifiable complacency. “There was really no feeling of... constraint at all.”

“No, there was not. Everyone seemed very comfortable.”

At that, Mark came into the room. He went to lean his shoulders against the chimneypiece, and both his wife and his aunt regarded his lean length with approval.

 “I’m afraid our neighbors fall into the category of worthy but dull,” he said blandly to those satisfied faces.

Both his wife and his aunt bristled. “Not everyone wants to spend the whole evening talking about science or archaeology,” snapped Lady Maria.

“You certainly gave the impression you were enjoying yourself,” Laura said accusingly. “My goodness, by the end of the night you had Lady Countisbury eating out of your hand!”

He raised an ironic eyebrow. “I thought that was the whole point of the evening,” he said.