Chapter 16

After a day spentin so much turmoil, supper was actually a startling success. Alden was certain Bernadette had arranged the seating to place her choices for him nearby, so that he might converse with the chosen ladies and come to know them better, and aside from the brief interlude where Egbert decided to make an appearance, that was precisely what Alden did.

Lady Wendine was surprisingly intelligent, though she let her need to fit in with what the ton deemed acceptable override her natural impulse for interesting conversation. Lady Alyce was clever as well, and Alden suspected she had a bold streak within her. But that bold streak was what had prompted her to have an affair with an unsuitable man, if what Lady Gladys had told him was correct, and by all indications, the poor woman was still in love with whomever that was. Lady Collette surprised Alden by being sweet and charming, once she was certain her mother was no longer watching her every gesture and silently critiquing every word she said.

But as supper progressed and every course was served, Bernadette was still the one and only lady that Alden could ever see himself wed to.

"Perhaps it is time for us all to reconvene in the conservatory for a touch of musical entertainment, my lord," Bernadette said, leaning over Lady Wendine a bit so that she could speak to Alden directly.

"Yes, that would be splendid," Alden replied, smiling at her as though Lady Wendine wasn't there.

Lady Wendine made a small sound, which Alden feared was an indication she had uncovered the truth about his feelings for Bernadette, but he did not have time to do much about it.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, rising and immediately commanding the attention of everyone at the table, ending over a dozen conversations simply by raising his hands. No wonder people like his cousin, Cuthbert, enjoyed lording over people so much. "It is time for us to retire to the conservatory. I am certain we will all enjoy each other's talents there. Please refer to Lady Bernadette if you wish to sing or play for us this evening."

Those words began a frantic exodus. Many of Alden's guests headed straight to the conservatory as footmen stepped in to make certain no glasses were upset or chairs tumbled over as moves were made. More than that, as soon as Bernadette rose and started out of the room, she was beset by a throng of women, most of them the mamas, demanding favorable placements for their daughters in the entertainments.

At the other end of the table, Lady Gladys rose slower than those around her. She was all grace and beauty as she stood and smiled at Alden. Her expression seemed to be telling him, "Well done," though the challenge that remained in her eyes also said, "Just you wait."

Alden was glad when he could look away from her to Cedric, who approached him so that they could leave the dining room together.

"It was a bit of a rough start," Cedric said, "but you seem to have everything under control now."

Alden shook his head as the two of them waited for most of the other guests to depart so that they could bring up the rear. "I have done nothing for this event but open my house," he said. "Every bit of credit for the planning and execution belongs to Bernadette and my staff."

"Well, whatever the case, things seem to have evened out," Cedric complimented him, thumping a hand on his back. "And I believe only two of the young ladies followed through on their threats to run away home."

Cedric was teasing and Alden narrowed his eyes at him in disapproval for it. But he also had a point. The initial shock of his eccentricities had passed, and nearly all of the guests had remained.

Several minutes later, once they had all arrived in the conservatory and taken the seats that Smythe and the footmen had arranged earlier, Alden wondered if he might not end up fleeing the horrors of his own party.

"My lords and ladies," one of the mamas, Lady Bronwyn, said, tugging her clearly shy daughter in front of the piano to begin the entertainments. "I present you with my beautiful and well-mannered daughter, Lady Glenda, who will sing for you this evening."

A polite smattering of applause followed before Lady Bronwyn sat at the piano and began to stalwartly pound out the opening notes of one of the more militant hymns Alden sang in church, when he could be bothered to attend.

After the prologue, Lady Glenda began to sing…or so Alden assumed. The poor thing could barely be heard over her mother's pounding, though her mother did not seem to take any notice, and as the song progressed, the unfortunate maiden shook so violently that Alden held his breath, waiting to see whether she would faint before the end of the song.

Lady Glenda did not faint, and the assembly seemed to applaud mostly for her relief as she rushed to take her seat again once the song was over.

The next lady had rather the opposite problem to Lady Glenda. Lady Elizabeth sang with such enthusiasm that she continually leapt ahead of the accompaniment, played by her sister, Lady Agatha, or fell behind when she wished to hold a note for longer than was intended. She gestured wildly with the song as well, to the point where Alden feared for the arrangement of flowers on a stand near the piano.

"I may, perhaps, adjust my opinion on whether this entire endeavor is a success," Cedric leaned over and muttered in Alden's ear as Lady Alyce took a turn at the piano, playing a love ballad beautifully, but weeping copiously the entire time. "I do believe you are attempting to kill us all with entertainment such as this."

Lady Muriel elbowed Cedric hard from his other side and scowled furiously at him. That had the paradoxical effect of bringing Alden nearly to the point of laughter. He was forced to raise a hand to cover his mouth as Bernadette introduced the next lady to perform.

"We will now hear Lady Wendine play a violin solo for us as Lord Dudley accompanies her," she said, looking like a sweet breath of fresh, summertime air, even though they were in the crowded and increasingly stuffy conservatory.

Alden's eyes stayed on Bernadette as she stepped aside and allowed Lady Wendine to perform. The music was quite good. Lord Dudley certainly seemed to think so, as he spent more time smiling at Lady Wendine in surprise than studying his sheet music. It was the perfect accompaniment for the feelings Alden had about Bernadette.

He wished that everything was different, that there were no curses or prior marriages, or anything of the like. Of course, none of that would be of any consequence if he could convince Bernadette to run away to South America with him. Or perhaps not as far as that. There were a wealth of interesting species of reptiles and amphibians in Spain, and he had heard society there was much more willing to accept matches that were not quite de rigueur.

He daydreamed through the next performance, thinking about what sort of small cottage he and Bernadette could occupy. Perhaps they would live by the sea. He could most definitely imagine Bernadette by the sea, walking along sandy beaches, gazing out at crystal waters. He could see the wind ruffling through her hair and a smile on her face as she turned back to where he'd fallen behind and reached out her hand to him.

Alden was startled from his thoughts as the most beautiful voice he'd heard in a long time rose up in a plaintive ballad. He blinked and shook himself out of his reverie, curious about which of his guests had the voice of an angel.

To his great surprise, it was Lady Gladys who stood before the piano, hands clasped in front of her, singing so beautifully. Alden sat up to listen better, astounded by the quality of Lady Gladys's performance. She looked right at him as she sang, which Alden found he did not mind as much as he thought he might. When his eyes met hers, she smiled, and her enthusiasm for her song doubled.

When had Gladys learned to sing? She had never been much of a songstress before, but then, her life had changed entirely since Edward had died. Perhaps she'd had lessons, or perhaps she'd merely grown into her voice by practicing.

"She's the one you were in love with decades ago, is she not?" Cedric whispered beside him.

"She is," Alden admitted, still watching Gladys.

"Why did she throw you over again?" Cedric pressed on.

"For Edward," Alden said, old feelings stirring in him.

"She's a widow now, if I understand correctly."

Alden nodded, glancing to Cedric with a frown, irritated with his interruptions.

Cedric shrugged and said, "You might as well go ahead and marry someone you used to love, someone closer to your own age, than entertain any of these silly young women who see your fortune and title instead of your soul."

Those words shouldn't have hurt as much as they did. Because there was a great deal of wisdom in them. He and Gladys had a past, and it was entirely possible they could have a future together as well.

Not a future of love. Not by any stretch. Alden was quite certain he would only ever love Bernadette, now that they had been brought together. But if it meant avoiding a tragic curse, if it created any possibility of him being able to maintain a respectable front with the ton, perhaps he could marry Gladys, but run away and spend his life with Bernadette.

The applause that marked the end of Lady Gladys's performance shook Alden out of his thoughts. He told himself at once they were mad and impossible. But as Lady Gladys took her seat, smiling coyly at him as she did, the whisper of possibility continued to tickle at the back of Alden's mind.

The musical entertainment continued on for another, painful hour, although there were some ladies of genuine talent amongst the chaff. Half of the ladies should not have been forced to stand up before the assembly the way they were. Whether it was because of their timidity or their lack of any discernable talent for music, they should have been allowed to stay as members of the audience. But their mamas were still deeply focused on displaying them.

One thing Alden began to notice, however, was that, for many of them, if not most, he was no longer the center of any lady's focus. The young bucks who had been drawn to the event were the ones receiving the lion's share of batted eyelashes and sweet looks. The only ladies who consistently glanced in Alden's direction were Bernadette and Lady Gladys.

"Clearly that Lady Gladys invited half the eligible young men in Wessex to turn the other young darlings' heads," Lady Muriel said once the entertainments were finally finished and the guests began retiring to their bedchambers. "She's trying to divert the competition so that she can have you all to herself."

Alden fought down a grin. Lady Muriel apparently did not have the same opinion as her husband when it came to who Alden should marry and why. She made no secret of turning up her nose at Lady Gladys, even when Lady Gladys glanced their way.

"My dear, I know you are predisposed to despise Lady Gladys because of the threat she presents to your dear friend," Cedric told her as they all left the conservatory together, "but even you must admit that she has done something extremely generous for the young ladies present by presenting them with matrimonial possibilities."

Lady Muriel scowled at her husband as they made their way to the stairs. Cedric had a point, though. Alden wasn't particularly keen on admitting it either, but Lady Gladys had done something very good, despite her own, selfish aims. Perhaps she was not as bad as he'd made her out to be in his mind because of her coolness toward Bernadette.

Those thoughts stayed with Alden as he undressed for bed. It felt as though he were shedding the heavy cares of the day with each piece of clothing he removed. He hated wearing tight jackets and formal boots as a rule, and it was heaven to rid himself of them. He did not even bother donning a nightshirt before having a quick scrub in his washbasin, then toweling himself off.

As he crossed the room to his bed, however, a scuffling sound in the hallway, followed by a soft sigh of irritation, drew his attention. Instead of going straight to bed, he went to fetch his banyan, threw it around his shoulders and tied it, then went to crack his door open so that he might see what was happening in the hallway. It could be anything, and after what he'd seen that day, he wouldn't have put it past any of the mamas flooding his estate to try to shove their daughters into his bed.

But something far more glorious and amusing awaited him in the hallway. Past his door, closer to the end of the hall that contained a large window letting in moonlight, Bernadette was scrambling along, bent over, her arms outstretched.

"Really, Egbert," she hissed. "Have you not caused enough trouble for one evening?"

Alden clapped a hand to his mouth to stop from laughing loud enough to wake the other guests on the hall, most of whom were his cousins and Bernadette's friends in any case. He leaned against the doorframe, watching as Bernadette leapt forward, almost catching Egbert, only to have the sneaky little lizard scuttle away from her. There was just enough light from the dimmed sconces along the walls to observe the entire chase.

Alden also rather enjoyed the lovely curve of Bernadette's backside when she bent over to scoop at Egbert. She wore a banyan over her nightgown, but even though the shape of the banyan was voluminous and concealing, it hid nothing when she bent the way she did. The sight was breathtaking and immediately reminded Alden of the improprieties the two of them had shared.

And then Egbert scrambled back in Alden's direction, Bernadette stood, and as she faced him and spotted him watching, she let out a yelp.

"Alden!" Immediately, Egbert was forgotten, and Bernadette's cheeks flushed pink. Her eyes glowed with humor and longing, a potent combination.

"Good evening, Lady Bernadette," Alden said with a mock formal bow. "What a surprise to see you out and about on an evening such as this."

Bernadette laughed a little as she came closer to Alden. Egbert had scuttled closer as well, then had the audacity to disappear into Alden's room. At least he was somewhere Alden would be able to keep an eye on him.

"You're looking rather charming this evening, Lord Alden," Bernadette said when she was within a few yards of him. "Dressing for tomorrow evening's ball already, are we?"

Alden burst into a beaming smile at her teasing. "I was merely attempting to coordinate my costume with your elegant ballgown," he said, gesturing to her banyan, which was disheveled from chasing Egbert.

Bernadette glanced down at herself, blushing harder. "This?" she said, continuing with their play. "This is the very best I have, my lord."

"Then we shall have to find you something better," Alden teased her. "I believe I have any number of fine, brocade robes and banyans in my wardrobe, if you should care to step inside."

He meant it as teasing, but the fire that came to Bernadette's eyes brushed all teasing aside in an instant. "You know we cannot," she said, her voice dropping to a seductive whisper. Instead of backing away, she stepped closer to him. "We've a house filled with guests, half of them eager to win your approval and your hand."

"Yes, I know," he said, reaching for her as she came within his grasp. "A beautiful, clever, and talented woman of my acquaintance arranged for the whole thing. She has done a remarkable job of making this weekend one for everyone to remember."

"She has done it all for you," Bernadette said, lowering her head as she fit her body carefully against his. It was not quite an embrace, more of a prelude to an embrace, if she summoned up the courage to take what she clearly wanted.

Alden decided to help her find the courage. He slipped a hand under her chin and tilted it up so that they could gaze at each other.

"I know," he said, lowering his voice to a tender rumble. "I have seen every effort you've made on my behalf. You have no idea how deeply I appreciate everything you have done for me, Bernadette. I know the price you have paid to do it."

"Perhaps," she said, her eyes filled with emotion. "But you have given me so much in return."

"Money means nothing," he murmured, brushing his thumb along her soft, bottom lip as he continued to hold her chin. "I would gladly toss everything I have into the ocean if it meant I had even the slightest possibility of being with you."

Bernadette's eyes suddenly sparkled, and she said, "Not the alligators, though. You must never throw them into the ocean."

Alden laughed, his heart filled with joy and light. A moment later, it ached with the cruelty of the situation they found themselves in. It had to be Godwin Castle and that abominable curse. How else could he be so bitterly unlucky when it came to love?

"Alligators can swim," he told Bernadette, as if reciting the deepest love poetry every written to her. "Granted, they much prefer fresh water, rivers and swamps, but they have been known to?—"

"Oh, Alden," Bernadette sighed, raising her hands to clasp the sides of his face. "Do stop talking and kiss me."

Alden sucked in a breath, his heart and other parts of him rising, and pulled Bernadette more tightly against him, obeying her command and slanting his mouth over hers.