Page 38 of To Dance with a Devil

Harriet is beside herself with joy. You are to tell Bonnie at once that she is delighted with her new sister and the prospect of a niece or nephew. For my part, I only ever wanted to see you happy. If Bonnie is the one for you, then we shall welcome her with open arms. Anyone who loves you as we do can expect our unstinting support and loyalty.

I’m a little irritated that you felt the need to provide mother with a grandson with quite such alacrity, however. I had hoped to be the first to do so. Just how much of a head start did you take, you cad?

You will be pleased to know that Mother is visiting Aunt Agatha. Aunt has been unwell and demanded immediate attention, as is her way. This means if you keep your head down at Holbrooke you’ve at least a couple of weeks' peace before the storm breaks. Enjoy it while you may.

― Excerpt of a letter from Jasper Cadogan, The Earl of St Clair to Mr Jerome Cadogan.

18th November 1814. St Clair’s London Residence, St James.

They stayed at Holbrooke House for as long as they dared but couldn’t dally any longer. Jasper had written to tell his brother that Lady St Clair would be back in London at the end of the week. The staff at Holbrooke were both loyal and discreet, but Jerome said he could not risk Lady St Clair discovering the news from anyone else. Bonnie could hardly blame him. She’d likely be furious enough as it was without that indignity.

The weeks they’d shared had been idyllic, and if Bonnie had not known the truth it would have been so terribly easy to believe that Jerome really did love her and was glad to have married her. Jasper and Harriet’s words of support had gladdened her heart, but she knew they were just being kind for Jerome’s sake. Harriet was a dear friend, but even she must know what a dreadful mésalliance this was. She was just too kind to say so.

Anyway, as with all good things, their blissful little idyll was at an end and now Bonnie must face reality.

She could see the change in him the moment they left Holbrooke, the tension and worry that filled his blue eyes. He kept darting glances at her when he thought she wasn’t looking, and she could only imagine what he was thinking. Like her, perhaps he had allowed himself to enjoy the time they’d shared without considering the future. He’d enjoyed the freedom to bed her as and when he wished, but now reality had struck, and he’d remembered that he was stuck with her. He’d remembered how unsuitable she was and how furious his mother would be, how sick with disappointment.

At least her own sickness had abated. Though her appetite had not yet returned, she was no longer forced to spend the early part of the morning hunched over a bowl.

As if he’d heard her thoughts, Jerome nudged her, and she turned to see him holding out a slice of apple. It was neatly peeled and cut, and she saw he’d opened the picnic they’d brought with them for the journey, although he’d only closed it an hour ago.

“I’m not hungry,” she protested.

“I know, love, but you hardly ate a bite earlier and only that tiny bit of toast at breakfast. It’s not good for the baby.”

Bonnie gave a resigned little huff of impatience but couldn’t help smiling at him. He was such a dear man and was trying so hard. Yet it only made her even more miserable to know that it was just that, he was trying, trying to make the most of a bad situation. Well, she’d not make it worse. She’d promised herself and him. So she poked her tongue out at him and snatched the apple from his hand, eating it and three more slices besides, though it sat in her throat like a rock and made her feel ill.

She certainly felt no better when they arrived at the St Clair’s London home. It was horribly grand and the staff were a deal starchier than at Holbrooke. At least there she’d been made to feel welcome after their initial shock. Perhaps because the staff had eyes in their heads and had seen the path she and Jerome were on firsthand. In London she was a heavy blow to them, a vulgar little nobody with no family to speak of and a reputation for being no better than she ought to be. No doubt they’d heard, as everyone had heard, that her guardian had given her a generous dowry—considering she was a nobody—just in the hope someone would be desperate enough to take her off his hands.

Oh, they were polite enough when Jerome gave them the news, and they made all the right noises. Not so when he was not around. There were whispers, spoken just loudly enough for her to catch, not to mention the way they looked down their noses at her, as if she was the servant here. Even her poor maid, Agnes, was treated like a pariah and given the cold shoulder. She could almost feel the air of anticipation filling the place as they got word Lady St Clair would arrive that morning. No doubt they expected her to throw Bonnie out and have the marriage annulled. She wouldn’t be surprised. Truthfully, she wouldn’t entirely blame the woman, she thought as she smoothed her hand over her belly. There was a small but definite swell now and she smiled despite herself. How would she feel if her own son was taken in by the wrong sort of woman, one who threw herself at him and got herself with child to force his hand? Bonnie sighed, knowing only too well the answer to that question.

She looked up from her place beside the fire to watch her husband pace. He looked tense and unhappy and her heart bled for the misery she’d caused him. She knew how much he wanted his mother to be proud of him, and she knew their marriage and the reason for it would only bring him shame. Yet it had to be faced, and at least she could stand beside him and defend him. She’d not let Lady St Clair think ill of him. She would tell the woman it had been all her, and that she’d planned to trap him from the start. It wasn’t as if it would make any difference; Lady St Clair would think that in any case, so Bonnie might as well shield Jerome from some part of the blame. At least she was used to such censure.

“She’s here.”

Bonnie got to her feet, the book she’d been pretending to read sliding from her nerveless fingers, disregarded. Her heart was hammering, and her skin felt clammy, hot and cold all at once. Stop it, she scolded herself. You’ve faced Morven in a fury, you’ve faced Gordon Anderson. Lady St Clair is no more frightening or overbearing than they are. Except that Bonnie rather thought she might be. Perhaps she wouldn’t rant and rage and rattle the walls with her shouting and bellowing, but Bonnie suspected she wouldn’t need to.

“Right.” Jerome tugged at his waistcoat and ran a hand over his hair before facing her. “How do I look?”

“As handsome as always,” Bonnie said, meaning it with all her heart. He was so beautiful, and she loved him so much. If only she could spare him this mess altogether, she would.

He grinned at her, though this time it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Wish me luck,” he said, leaning in for a kiss.

She ducked away. “What? No, I’m coming with you,” she said at once, but Jerome only shook his head and planted a kiss on her cheek instead.

“Oh, no. Not on your life. I’ll introduce you a little later, once she’s gotten over the initial shock. It’ll be the baby and the fact we married behind her back she’ll be most furious about, and I’d just as soon you not be there to watch me get raked over the coals.”

“No!” Bonnie exclaimed, clutching at his arm. “We did this together. I won’t let you face her alone. It isn’t fair.”

Jerome’s face softened, and he pulled her close. “Love, I won’t have you or the baby distressed, not for a moment,” he said, before giving her a kiss on the nose. “Now sit down and don’t worry, or go out and get some fresh air if you prefer, only don’t fret, I beg of you. Mother will be cross, I know, but she’s not an ogre. Once the shock has worn off, it will all be well.”

There was nothing else to be said. He’d made up his mind and nothing she could do to change it. The last thing she wanted was for Lady St Clair to walk in and discover them in the middle of a row. So she watched him go like a good little wife and tried to sit and not worry, but it was impossible. After ten minutes she was beside herself and decided a walk was a good idea.

Once she had fetched Agnes, and they’d wrapped up in warm coats and bonnets, for it was a bitterly cold day, they made their way to the front door. Bonnie paused as the sound of angry voices drifted from the library and her heart clenched.

“Come along,” Agnes said, her voice kind but firm as she moved Bonnie towards the door. “We both need some air.”

“Best start packing, I reckon,” came an amused voice from one of the footmen in an undertone.