Chapter 31

Chapter

Thirty-One

P erhaps it was misguided of her to attend the Vauxhall ball, but when her vexing husband refused to accompany her to an event she was desperate to attend, one had to make one's own decisions.

The carriage rocked to a halt before the gates of the pleasure gardens, and she could already hear the orchestra playing, the laughter that carried through the still night to all those rushing to attend.

"Please remain here, Jeffries. I shall return later in the evening."

Her carriage driver dipped his hat. "Of course, my lady." He cleared his throat. "Are you certain you do not wish for me to escort you? Vauxhall isn't always safe."

Genevieve waved his concerns aside. "I have friends who are in attendance. All will be well." She left him to find a place to park the carriage and started into the gardens.

People milled about her, and she held her head high and hoped what she'd said was true, that she would at least find a friend or two at the ball. Lord and Lady Ramsbury's Vauxhall ball was held yearly, and although she wasn't close to her ladyship, they were of a similar age. Except Lady Ramsbury had married her first Season, while Genevieve had not.

She strolled around the outdoor ballroom and watched the dancers for several minutes before Lord Lennox stood at her side, smiling down at her with his handsome face.

"You came, Lady Tyndall." He looked around as if searching for someone, her husband, she could only assume. Well, he would be hard-pressed to find Tyndall since he'd decided not to attend.

"Where is Lord Tyndall? Tell me he hasn't allowed you to attend this ball without his protection."

She smiled at him, but inwardly, she seethed that Beckett had refused. The man was up and down, and she never knew which way he was going to land on any given day.

Some days, he was possessive, almost loving, and acted the opposite of those who marry out of duty or arrangement. But other times, he was cold, aloof, and uncaring.

Vexing…

"He had other commitments, unfortunately."

"Or, fortunately for me and others I'm certain. We will ensure you're safe and enjoy your night."

"We?" she queried, interested in who the we were.

"Lord and Lady Ramsbury and myself, of course."

She smiled, relieved it wasn't some other gentleman she hardly knew. "Well then, this evening will be a triumph. Shall we dance?" she boldly asked.

"Yes, let us." He pulled her onto the dance floor. The music lifted her spirits, even if she annoyingly wished there was another gentleman in her arms, spinning her about the ballroom floor right at this moment.

If only the feelings she had suppressed all those years ago would not have reawakened now that she was married to Beckett. Life would be much easier if she did not care for him. Far too much not to be hurt each time he pushed her away.

She threw herself into the dance, lost herself in the music, and set out to enjoy her night in the arms of another man.

B eckett looked up from the game of Faro as Genevieve's brother stormed across the room, his face set in a thunderous manner.

"What are you doing here?" Martin asked, pulling a chair beside the card table and joining him and Lord Morton.

"I'm playing Faro. Why do you think I'm here?" he answered.

Lord Morton chuckled and played a hand.

"Leave, Morton. I need to speak to my brother-in-law in private."

"Is it urgent?" Beckett asked, frowning and not particularly liking his friend's tone or the demands on others.

"It is of the utmost urgency."

Morton sighed and pushed out of his chair. "We'll continue when your conversation is at an end."

"Thank you," Beckett said, turning back to Martin. "What is all this about? Why are you here all discombobulated?"

"Because my sister, your wife, need I remind you, is at the Vauxhall ball. Alone."

"Genevieve attended Lord and Lady Ramsbury's ball?" A knot of fear, mixed with anger, settled in his stomach. "I told her not to attend. I explained only yesterday that I had another commitment and could not escort her. I assumed she would, therefore, send her apologies." He pushed away from the table, forgetting about finishing the game. "Did she take a chaperone?"

"No one. I received word from a good friend that Lord Lennox is quite taken with her and is enjoying their time, following her skirts about, if you understand my words. If you do not wish for all of London to believe your wife is intimate with another man, I suggest you forget these trivial gambling nights and go fetch her."

"She's not a wolfhound, Martin. I cannot fetch her, but I will go and make an appearance. Ensure that her actions do not ruin her."

"Yes, and perhaps you both ought to stop these games and admit to what is really happening between you both. You're both so stubbornly…stubborn. Can you not see that you're both madly in love with each other but refuse to admit the truth? Have been so for years."

"What?" The breath in Beckett's lungs seized at the word love. He was not in love with his wife. Martin was absurd, had possibly lost his damn mind. He did not love his wife. He barely liked her.

The thought shamed him, and he had to admit that thinking in such a way was not true. He did like her, far more than he'd ever thought he would. They had been at odds for so many years, back and forth with insults and social cuts, that it almost became second nature to aggravate her at every turn.

But now, married to her, loving her when they were alone…well, he could not deny that she made him feel things he'd never thought to ever experience with anyone.

That it was Genevieve was a realization he didn't want to admit to. To do so would give her power over him, and he hated not being in control of his life. After his parents' death, he'd lost all control of his upbringing, his schooling, who tended his estates, everything. It became ingrained in him when he reached age to never let anyone tell him what to do or how to do anything in his life. To love and lose that he loved was a hurt he could not survive a second time. The loss of his parents had been hard enough.

Genevieve included in the people he kept at arm's length, not allowing her to grow too close to him to take his power.

"You both pretend to detest each other, but it's not true. Genevieve has loved you since I first introduced you at our country estate. And since your marriage, I've seen you at the events you attend together. You watch her like a hawk. You lust after her as much as you admire her. But let me tell you something, you should not deny what you both clearly feel. What a life wasted if you both continue to play this stupid game of who hates the other the most when it's clear you love each other equally." Martin paused as they strode out of the house to where his carriage was parked. "Other men see your distance, and I know you do not wish to have anyone close to you for fear of losing them as you lost your parents. But others will give her what she needs, affection, praise, and attention, and you will lose her. Of course, you can never divorce, but a rift will grow between you that can never be breached. I do not want that for either of you. So please, go to Vauxhall and tell her how you feel. Admit it to yourself that you love her, red hair and all."