Page 59 of To Dance with a Devil

“Did you exaggerate his character as much as you did his appearance?” Matilda asked, a hopeful expression in her eyes.

“Not entirely,” Bonnie said carefully, not wanting to alarm Matilda and wishing she could be more comforting. “Oh, Matilda… the thing is, Gordon and I have never gotten along. We only have to be in a room together for a few minutes before we’re at each other’s throats, so I can’t pretend I’ve seen the best of him. He isn’t used to a woman standing up to him and speaking her mind, and you know I can’t keep my tongue between my teeth. The trouble is,” she added, feeling anxiety for her friend bloom in her heart, “I don’t think Ruth can, either.”

“But would he hurt her?” Matilda demanded, fear glinting in her blue eyes. “Come along, Bonnie. I must know. Is Ruth in any danger? Is he… violent?”

“Oh, no!” Bonnie exclaimed, shaking her head. “At least, yes, he can be, but not to a woman. He’ll not hesitate to knock a man down who insults him, he’s a rather brutal sort, but I’ve never known him lay a hand on a woman. No, it’s not that, he’s… he’s just a bear with a sore head. He’ll either not say a word for days on end or bark orders. There’s nothing tender about him, no soft feelings. Ruth is in no physical danger, but I fear for her happiness.”

“Well,” Matilda said, her voice grim. “I suppose she’s made her bed, as we all must. She wasn’t forced to act as she did, and we’ll never know exactly what was in her mind. How can we ever know what anyone else truly thinks?”

Bonnie stared, taken aback by the bleak tone of her friend’s voice. Somehow, she didn’t think it was only Ruth that she was speaking about. Matilda noticed the concern in Bonnie’s eyes and gave a short, humourless laugh.

“There’s little any of us can do for her now,” she said with a sigh. “Though I shall go and fetch her and bring her back with me if I have the slightest sign she needs to escape.”

“You’re a good friend,” Bonnie said, laying a hand on her arm. “And I will happily go with you. If Anderson makes Ruth unhappy, he’ll have me to deal with, too.”

Matilda smiled and patted her hand. “That, if nothing else, ought to give the man pause,” she said, making Bonnie grin. “But how wretched of me to waylay you, and on such a glorious night. What a triumph for you, you truly do look like a queen, and you ought not be thinking of anything but your own happiness at such a time, you deserve it, love.”

Impulsively, Bonnie hugged Matilda tightly and kissed her cheek. “Thank you, Mama Hen. At least you have one less chick to fret over. In the morning, I shall check my correspondence. I haven’t had a moment to read my letters so I don’t know if there is anything from Ruth, but if there is not, I shall write to her again, and beg her to confide in me.”

Matilda nodded. “Yes. We ought not fret before we know there is a need to. You ought not, at least. Enjoy your success, Bonnie, and kiss your husband. I’ve no doubt he’s pining for you.”

That, Bonnie was more than happy to do, and ran off with a smile on her lips.

Chapter 20

Dearest Bonnie,

I am so sorry that I did not write sooner. I’m not sure why I didn’t, only things have been dif… It’s taken me a while to adjust.

How delighted I was to hear of your marriage to Mr Cadogan. I wish you both every happiness, though I suspect you do not need my wishes. It was clear the last morning I saw you that he adored you. Lucky girl!

I by contrast, have not married for love and went into this arrangement with my eyes wide open and yet… oh, Bonnie, dearest. I urgently need your advice regarding my husband…

― Excerpt of a letter from Mrs Ruth Anderson to Mrs Bonnie Cadogan.

5th December 1814. Mr and Mrs Cadogan’s celebration ball, The Earl of St Clair’s London Residence, St James.

Jerome looked around the ballroom. The evening had been a wild success and his mother was in raptures. The people she’d wanted to make green with envy had turned suitably chartreuse in tint. Those she wanted to eat their words of condolence at having had such a terrible daughter-in-law foisted upon her had been made to see the error of their ways. Their friends and family had rallied about them and been caught up in the triumphant happiness of the evening. Everyone was having a marvellous time, Bonnie and his mother most of all. They were thick as thieves, and no doubt cooking up plans for future devastation.

It had rather taken him aback how well and how quickly Bonnie and his mama had taken to each other; in truth it was a little daunting. He’d always known of his parents’ well-honed sense of the ridiculous. It was only now, however, that he realised it hadn’t only been his father who’d caused mischief and mayhem. His darling mama had a touch of the devil in her too. Well, at least she could no longer take him to task for his bad behaviour, as he could take pleasure in reminding her that the pot was every bit as black as the kettle.

Nonetheless, it was irritating if the wretched woman had taken Bonnie off somewhere, as he wanted to be alone with his wife. He’d been very patient all night, but now he’d had enough of dancing and chatter and he wanted Bonnie, preferably somewhere dark and secluded.

He gave a huff of irritation and snatched up a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. Where on earth had she gotten to, the provoking creature? Jerome jolted as someone gave him a jovial, and none too gentle, slap on the back.

“There you are old man,” crowed an amused voice. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

With an ominous feeling of déjà vu, Jerome swung around and looked into a glittering pair of pale green eyes.

“Oh, good Lord,” he murmured, torn between a groan and hysteria. She’d gone and done it again. “Plague take you, Bo—Bart,” he stammered, correcting himself at the last minute. “What are you doing here, and dressed like that?”

Jerome looked her over and felt his body tighten as he noticed the way the well-fitting breeches clung to her shapely legs. No doubt her delectable bottom was equally well highlighted and, if he remembered rightly, not nearly well enough covered by the tails of her coat. How anyone could mistake her for a young man was beyond him.

“Why, looking for you, Coz,” she said, adopting the swaggering pose of a young buck. “Thought you might like to go elsewhere for a bit sport? What say you?”

“I say, I ought to tan your hide, you dreadful creature,” he muttered, trying hard to glower at her but his lips kept turning upwards and spoiling the effect. “Come along, then,” he said, setting down his empty glass. “If it’s sport you’re looking for, I have just the thing.”

Jerome let his young cousin out of the ballroom and along the darkened corridors as if they were heading for the front door, and then diverted, opening a door and shoving her inside. It was a small room, done up as a parlour though his mother thought it too dark and seldom used it. Tonight it was quiet and vacant, only illuminated by the moonlight flooding through the windows as the curtains had not been closed.