Chapter Twenty

I f it was excitement Alden wanted at his ball, it was excitement he got. From the moment the tall, powerfully built gentleman dressed in a style reminiscent of Scandinavia shouted his question from the lawn closer to the terrarium, everyone from the servants to the musicians to the silliest of the young ladies attending the ball paused what they were doing to take note.

Alden did not need Bernadette's softly whispered, "Hethersett," to guess who the man was. His new guest could not have been anyone else. Hethersett looked every bit like the heroic diplomat Alden knew him to be. More disconcerting, the man was handsome and had a commanding presence to him. Even the brash young bucks who were on the hunt for wives with good fortunes gave way to him as he marched closer to where Alden, Bernadette, and Lady Gladys stood to the side of the dance floor.

A pang of jealousy that was as frustrating as it was unexpected rose up in Alden. How could he possibly hope to compete with a man as obviously powerful and desirable as Lord Hethersett? Several of the young ladies who had not shown the slightest bit of interest in him stood straighter, smiled, and pinched color into their cheeks as Hethersett passed. The other young men looked equally as anxious, knowing that a superior male had entered their midst.

It was only just before Hethersett reached them that Alden noticed the man had not arrived alone. An older man had followed him to the dance floor. One that bore a striking resemblance to Bernadette. A blonde woman who appeared to be in her early thirties had arrived with Hethersett as well, though she hung back nervously on the lawn. Of all things, she had three young, blond children with her, who looked around at the guests and the decorations in awe.

"Papa!" Bernadette said with even more surprise than she'd uttered Hethersett's name. "Whatever are you doing here?"

Alden glanced to the older man, as curious about the answer to that question as Bernadette was.

Indeed, everyone at the ball seemed to collectively hold their breath and lean in, eager to know what new twist the drama of the evening had brought. Alden was grateful that his cousins, particularly Waldorf, and Bernadette's friends pushed their way through the crowd of guests so that they could be close if things went very wrong.

Bernadette's father, Lord Attleborough, grunted and growled, shifting restlessly and tugging at the hem of his coat. He appeared entirely too uncomfortable for an older gentleman coming to take his daughter to task for falling in love where she should not. All he could say for himself was a curt, "Ask him," while nodding to Hethersett.

All eyes turned to Hethersett. Alden was just as eager as the rest of them to get to the bottom of the strange turn of events.

Hethersett clearly did not like the attention directed at him. He cleared his throat and adjusted his stance like a man trying to appear commanding instead of embarrassed. "Lady Bernadette," he said with a nod to Bernadette, "I trust you are well?"

Even Alden thought that was a strange and frosty greeting by a man for his wife, especially since he and Bernadette had been regular correspondents for years.

"I am well," Bernadette began to say in a dazed voice, then shook her head. The gesture disturbed Egbert, who adjusted his place around her neck to come into clearer view. Hethersett's eyes widened, but he did not have time for a larger reaction before Bernadette went on with, "Actually, no, I am not well at all," she said.

"Yes, I could see," Hethersett said with a crisp nod. He then surprised everyone by glancing to Lady Gladys and saying, "It appeared as though this woman was attempting to interrupt your dance most rudely."

Alden could have been knocked over with a feather. That was not even close to anything he would have expected Bernadette's husband to say.

"Who are you, my lady?" Hethersett went on to ask.

It was a testament to the man's dominance that Lady Gladys blinked and stammered, then answered him with, "I am Lady Gladys Minstead of Emory Down, a close friend and neighbor of Lord Alden." She glanced to Alden as if begging for help.

Hethersett turned to study Alden as well with a look of surprise and appraisal. "Oh, so you are Lord Alden Godwin?"

Still without the first idea what was going on, Alden answered, "I am, sir," with a respectful nod. "And I believe you are Lord Harold Hethersett, Lady Bernadette's husband."

"I am not," Hethersett said with frown, glancing to Lord Attleborough.

Alden was more confused than ever. "Not Lord Hethersett?" he asked.

Hethersett let out an impatient breath, still frowning at Lord Attleborough. Lord Attleborough seemed to shrink in on himself.

"I am Lord Hethersett," Hethersett said, looking to Alden again. His gaze then slipped to Bernadette with an apologetic look. "I am not, however, Lady Bernadette's husband."

"You are not?" Lady Gladys asked, alarm growing in her expression. "But … but you are. Everyone knows you are. The two of you were married years ago, before you left for Norway."

Hethersett cleared his throat, shifting from foot to foot, and looking embarrassed again. He directed an apologetic look to Bernadette and said with utmost respect, "My lady, there has been a grave misunderstanding. One I fear has continued for more than a decade without my knowledge."

"A … a misunderstanding?" Bernadette asked breathlessly, pressing a hand to her chest. Egbert dipped his head down to her fingers, as if he was attempting to reassure her.

Alden could not be outdone by a knight anole, so he moved to Bernadette's side, placing a hand on the small of her back.

"We are not married," Hethersett told her, bowing his head as if in apology. "Your father approached me with the idea," he glanced to Lord Attleborough, "and for a short time, I considered his offer, but in the end, I had to decline."

A ripple of confused murmurs spread through the throng of guests, many of whom had inched closer to better hear the unfolding drama.

"Papa?" Bernadette stared at her father for a moment, incredulous. "Were you aware of this?"

"I, er, yes," Lord Attleborough said.

Bernadette gaped at him. "You lied to me," she hissed, more hurt than angry. "All these years. You made me believe something that was not true. How could you? More importantly, why would you?"

"It was not about you, my dear," Attleborough attempted to appear sympathetic. "Certain business deals … the connection … Hethersett is a powerful and well-respected man. The connection with him has raised our entire family's fortunes immeasurably."

"Based on lies," Bernadette said, growing emotional.

Alden could have pummeled the man into the ground for all the trouble he'd caused Bernadette. For all these years, Bernadette had, in fact, been free to live and love as she pleased, but for her father's lies.

Then again, if Bernadette had known she was unmarried all these years, some other, lucky man might have scooped her up, and he never would have met her.

"I thought I was doing what was best for all of us," Attleborough said stiffly, frowning at Bernadette as if he would make the entire thing her fault somehow.

Alden was ready to defend his beloved with everything he had, but Hethersett stepped in before he had a chance to.

"I have already expressed to Lord Attleborough how vile I find his actions to be," he said, scowling at Attleborough, then glancing apologetically to Bernadette once more. "I have made it known in East Anglia that I had no part in these things he has claimed and that there was never any connection between us."

"But there was a connection," Bernadette said, bewildered once more. "We are friends, are we not? We have been writing to each other, frequently, these many years now. Over a decade."

"Ah. Yes. As to that." Hethersett was suddenly awkward. He flushed pink, squirming a little, then turned to glance back to the edge of the lawn. He gestured to the woman who had accompanied him.

The woman moved restlessly forward, bringing the three children with her. As anxious as she appeared to be, there was a certain light of excitement in her eyes as she looked at Bernadette, almost like an acolyte being given the chance to meet a famous actress they admired.

"Lady Bernadette, allow me to introduce you to my wife, Lady Beatta Hethersett," Hethersett said.

An audible gasp rose up from the crowd of ball guests.

"Your wife?" Lady Gladys asked, horror in her eyes as she glanced between all the players in the latest iteration of the game.

"Yes," Hethersett said, taking the blonde woman's hand as she reached his side. He smiled at her like a man who was in love and had been in love for years. "You see, I could not go through with the proposed marriage all those years ago, because I had met Beatta at the court in Christiana. We fell in love at once and knew there were no others for us."

Anyone with eyes could see that.

"Beatta," Waldorf said with a tone of sudden understanding from the side of the central group. "On paper, it looks, perhaps, like a misspelling of Bernadette. That explains a great many things."

"Your shoddy work, perhaps?" Lady Katherine murmured.

The two of them stared daggers at each other, but Alden did not have time for their drama.

"That does not explain our letters," Bernadette said, blinking rapidly and shaking her head, as if she were still trying and failing to understand what had happened. "We've been writing weekly for more than ten years."

" We have not been writing," Hethersett said.

"I have been your correspondent all this time," Lady Beatta said, her accent thick, lowering her head.

Bernadette's jaw dropped, but she had nothing to say.

Hethersett cleared his throat. "I did not realize at first that my dear wife was using my correspondence to teach herself English," he said. "I encouraged it, as I was quite busy in those early days of my appointment and required a secretary to manage my correspondence. I did not realize you were writing to me, Lady Bernadette, and I did not realize you believed the two of us to be wed."

"For ten years?" Bernadette asked incredulously.

"The fault is mine," Lady Beatta said. "I loved your letters most of all, but my English was not good in the beginning. I did not understand many things you wrote. When I did begin to understand … ." She glanced sheepishly up at Hethersett, then smiled bashfully at Bernadette. "I considered you a dear friend. I thought you would be angry and stop writing if I confessed my deception. It did not seem to matter, since you have such a happy, exciting life."

"Beatta and I have spoken about the implications of her actions," Hethersett said, still smiling with love at his wife. "She meant none of it maliciously, I can assure you. There is not a malicious bone in her body." He went so far as to dip down and kiss her forehead.

Alden found the action and the clear affection between the couple decidedly charming.

"The children," Bernadette said with an intake of breath. She glanced warmly at the three, small children crowding around Lady Beatta. "You were not writing about the children of the court in Christiana, you were writing to me about your own dear babies."

Lady Beatta glanced to Bernadette with a bashful smile and nodded. "I was. Olad, Jenny, and Jesper." She touched each little one's head as she named them.

Bernadette let out a sudden laugh and stepped forward. She crouched so that she could be closer to the children's levels, then said, "I am so very pleased to make your acquaintance at last."

The little ones smiled. The girl, Jenny, who could not have been more than seven, pointed to Egbert and said, "You have a lizard on your shoulder."

"Yes, his name is Egbert," Bernadett said, twisting so she could pluck Egbert from her shoulder. "Would you like to see him?"

All three children nodded, but as Bernadette presented Egbert to them, Lady Gladys interrupted with a loud, "This is madness. All of this. None of this can possibly be true."

Her sour complaint yanked Alden out of the sudden, beautiful image he had of Bernadette with her own children, their children.

"It is unlikely, but it is true," Hethersett said.

The way he frowned at Attleborough prompted the man to say, "It's true. It's my fault. I deceived everyone and manipulated things for my own gain. For that, I'm sorry."

The way he spoke led Alden to believe that he and Hethersett had already had the whole thing out before arriving at the ball. He was just glad they'd appeared in time to –

Alden sucked in a breath as the implication of everything became clear to him.

"You are not married," he said to Bernadette.

Bernadette, who was still holding out Egbert so that the Hethersett children could touch and pet him, glanced over her shoulder at him. She seemed to suddenly understand the implication as well. With a gasp, she handed Egbert over to the oldest Hethersett child, then stood and faced Alden.

"I am not married," she said, as though discovering a great treasure.

Alden burst into a smile. "Would you like to be?" he asked.

Bernadette matched his smile with utter joy. "If it is to you, then yes."

"Lady Bernadette, will you marry me?" Alden asked at once, reaching for Bernadette's hands.

"Yes," Bernadette said unequivocally.

"No!" Lady Gladys shouted. "This is not how things are meant to be. I am the one you are meant to marry! I am the lady who should preside over Lyndhurst Grove!"

"The two have declared their engagement," Lady Muriel stepped forward to point out. "Under Wessex law, that means they are engaged."

"Huzzah!" one of the young bucks, who had moved in closer so as not to miss a moment of the drama, exclaimed. "Lord Alden and Lady Bernadette are engaged!"

A cheer went up from the crowd, but Lady Gladys's shriek could be heard over all of it. "No! I refuse to let this stand! I have worked too hard to have what I want. I will not have some weak, pale, tradeswoman sweep in and – "

"That is enough from you," Alden said, stepping toward Lady Gladys and cupping her elbow. "It is time we resolve this, once and for all. Without an audience." He glanced to Bernadette, then the Hethersett children, and said, "If you would kindly bring Egbert along to the terrarium, I think all of us would be more at home there."

Alden was certain his guests would talk about the events of that evening for years. The setting alone was noteworthy enough to provide gossip for ages to come. The parade they all made as they headed into the terrarium, him leading Lady Gladys as if she were a hissing, bristling cat, Bernadette and her friends following behind with Alden's cousins, and Lord and Lady Hethersett and their children, along with Lord Attleborough, looking like characters from a northern legend, was a sight that would not soon be forgotten.

"Now," Alden said once they were all safely inside the terrarium, positioned among the verdant green, lit by torches and lanternlight, once Egbert had been released. "I will say what I have to say to you, Lady Gladys, and we will settle this matter once and for all. I will not marry you. I never had any intention of marrying you."

"But Alden," Lady Gladys said, near to tears with frustration as she tried to step closer to him. "The two of us were meant to be."

"We were not," Alden said. "We never were, and I believe you know that as well. You threw me over for Edward years ago, I moved on, and you began to build a life with Edward. Despite his unfortunate death and your machinations, I never had any intention of going back to you."

"But you must," she said, her frustration turning to fear. "The accounts are all due. Edward's money is gone. I have nothing left. The solicitors have already come to take everything of value from the house. I shall end up in debtor's prison if you do not save me."

Alden's eyes went wide. "Why did you tell me none of this before?" he asked. "I would have helped you, as a friend."

"And risk the shame of accepting your charity?" she asked, her back going stiff. "I am too proud for that."

"But not too proud to attempt to trap a man who loves another in marriage so that you could steal his fortune," Alden said.

Lady Gladys's face twisted with fury. "You have squandered your fortune," she said. "I would put it to much greater use."

"Alden has squandered nothing," Bernadette defended him, glancing from Lady Gladys to Hethersett, as if she would defend him against anyone's accusations. "He has built this magnificent terrarium to house the specimens he collected in his time abroad. He is writing a definitive book about how others might build similar structures to safely house species from foreign climes."

Lady Gladys barked a derisive laugh. "You think this is a worthy use of one's fortune?" She stepped back to gesture around at the terrarium. "This is an abomination? Plants that should not grow in Wessex." She reached for the branch of one of the palms and tore off part of a leaf. "Birds that should never exist on these shores." She bent down to pick up a stone from the path and hurled it up into the canopy, disturbing one of the parrots. "Creatures that are the stuff of nightmares." She thrust her hand into the foliage beside her, grabbing a bright blue frog and throwing it.

Alden gasped in alarm as soon as he saw what she'd done. "Lady Gladys, you must not," he said.

"Why?" she demanded, fury in her eyes as she turned back to the leaves. "Do you care for these creatures more than me?"

She grabbed another frog and another, plucking them from their perches and hurling them at Alden and Bernadette.

Then she made a painful, squealing sound and stared at her swiftly-reddening hand.

"Frogs!" the youngest of the Hethersett children exclaimed, lunging forward, as if they would grasp one of the unfortunate, damaged frogs Lady Gladys had thrown.

"Do not touch the frogs!" Bernadette shouted, lunging forward to pull the little boy back. "They are poison dart frogs!"

"Poison?" Hethersett pulled his wife closer.

They all turned to stare at Lady Gladys as she held up her red hand and started to scream.