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Any other woman would have thought herself to be marvelously lucky in Irene's position. Not only had she found a man to marry her, despite her family's financial situation and her measly dowry of land (although the location of that land was exactly why Hugh was marrying her), but he was young and handsome. Extremely handsome. In fact, going by the gossip, he was one of the most desirable of the unmarried men available.
But she hadn't grown up with him, he hadn't kissed her skinned knee or taught her to dance or ride. He hadn't brought her violets on her sixteenth birthday. He hadn't been her first kiss.
Unfortunately she'd given her heart away long before she'd ever met him.
Perhaps her guilt was misplaced. Her mother had reassured her over and over again that among the ton it was understood that hus
bands and wives had certain... arrangements. Certainly she'd seen the evidence of that since she'd come to London. There were a few love matches however; in fact she was fairly certain that Hugh's sister had one.
How she envied Eleanor that. There was no mistaking the affection in Lord Hyde's eyes when he looked at his wife, or the way Eleanor practically glowed when in his presence. Irene didn't feel glow-y at all. She felt rather wilt-y. And like a big fat liar. Because hadn't she just pledged to love, honor and obey? Yet she did not love her husband. She had gone into the marriage already planning to be unfaithful as soon as she had provided him with his heir... but theirs was an arranged marriage and that was how such things were done, were they not? She’s seen so many other marriages like that since arriving in London and her mother certainly espoused the notion, although Irene didn’t like to think about what that might mean about her parents’ marriage.
She did not expect fidelity from him, had not even before her mother had convinced her that she should acquiesce to the arrangement, and so he should not expect it from her. At least, according to her mother’s explanations. Yet it didn’t sit right with her at all. Shouldn’t she be expected to cleave to her vows?
"Are you alright sweetheart?" Hugh's voice skated across her nerves, his warm breath tingling against her ear. His breath smelled of mint and Irene found herself instinctively turning towards him, feeling a strange urge to be closer. There was no denying that Hugh was a very attractive man, even to her. "You look pale."
"I'm fine," she said, giving him her best social smile. The concern in his bright blue eyes only made her feel even worse. Sometimes she wondered if he had feelings for her beyond affection, although her mother had shaken her head over and over during the courtship and said Irene was reading far too much into Hugh's solicitousness and gifts. "Just tired."
Something foreign and hungry looking glittered in Hugh's eyes for a moment, freezing her breathless to be on the end of such a look. She’d never had a man look at her quite like that, but it was becoming a regular occurrence with him. What did it mean?
"We'll be on our way soon enough," he said, taking her hand in his and giving it a kiss. The expression on his face made her think of a child being presented with a plate of sweets... and she was the plate. There seemed to be something more beneath his words than just a reassurance that soon they would be done doing the pretty, but she didn't understand what.
The warmth of his hand wrapped around her much smaller one seemed to sear her through the thin fabric of her kid gloves, the press of his lips hotter than ever and she felt a strange tingle sweep through her body as his eyes drifted down to the small amount of bosom that was exposed by her wedding gown. Edged with lace and gold threads, the bodice of her white gown hugged her body tightly, much more tightly than she'd realized before this moment when she felt like she might suddenly run out of breath.
"Now, now, time enough for that after your guests have left," Hugh's mother said chidingly as she stepped to Irene's side, beaming at her new daughter-in-law. Irene had never been more grateful for an interruption; she didn't understand what had just happened between her and her new husband but she had found it incredibly unnerving. Air suddenly filled her lungs again as the intense expression on Hugh’s face slipped behind his usual social mask of complacency. "Come Irene, I want to introduce you to my cousin."
Obediently Irene allowed Hugh's mother to lead her away, sparing him a small glance over her shoulder, looking both intrigued and hesitant. He grinned at her before turning and striding to the nearest group of well-wishers, immersing himself back into his social duties.
******
"Nice wedding brunch," said Wesley. He and Hugh had scouted out an alcove from which they could watch the activities without having to engage in them. Hugh hated doing the pretty and currently his mother was involved in showing off her new daughter-in-law so she wasn’t there to badger him into it. "Very entertaining."
They were watching Eleanor lead Edwin on a merry chase around the room. For whatever reason she seemed quite determined not to spend very much time by his side, and he was just as determined to have her there. Unfortunately for him she was quite adept at starting just the right conversation that would mean the person she was talking to would want to engage Edwin in it, allowing her to slip away and join another group of guests. It would take him several minutes to untangle himself without giving offense, and then he'd be off after her again, his face becoming grimmer and harder with every stride he took.
Hugh and Wesley found it hilarious.
"Son!"
They turned to see Baron Standish approaching, a wide-grin on his face. Hugh rather liked the Baron; he was a family man, a good country man, who'd done the best he could for his family and Hugh respected that. Unfortunately the Baron's father had not been so responsible and by the time the title and lands had come to Irene's father they'd also come riddled with debt and neglect. The man had recouped such losses as well as he could, but a year of flooding followed by a disease running rampant through his sheep flock had set him back grossly. Hugh's desire to marry Irene had come at a crucial moment for the family and they all knew it. Although the Baroness seemed to resent the gratitude she had to feel towards Hugh, the Baron treated him as another son. Both being country men at heart they'd found they had quite a bit in common and had already talked about cross-breeding some of their dogs.
Standish was not a very tall man, almost an entire head shorter than Wesley and Hugh - who were admittedly blessed with long, lean bodies - but he was in very good shape since he spent most of his time outdoors, often on horseback. He was still a fine figure of a man, other than the loss of most of his hair. What was left ringed the crown of his head; despite the hints of gold and red it was obvious that Irene's coloring came from her mother. Fortunately, in Hugh's opinion, her personality had much more of her father in it.
"I hope you don't mind me calling you that," the older man chuckled. "I can't tell you what a relief, and a pleasure, it is to welcome you to the family." That honest forthrightness was one of the things that Hugh liked best about the man; many amongst the ton would never had admitted to their financial straits, much less expressed gratitude in public for it. Wesley knew all the particulars anyway, being such a close friend of Hugh’s, but many men would have too much pride to say such a thing at all.
"A pleasure for myself as well," said Hugh, grinning back at him. "And I don't mind at all. Have you met the Earl of Spencer here?" He gestured at Wesley.
"No, I hadn't," said the Baron, giving Wesley a little bow. "Spencer, my condolences on your father, I was sorry to read of his passing."
"Thank you," said Wesley, bowing back. "It was a hard time for my family." He didn’t mention that he and his father had been estranged at the time or that the hardship, in Wesley’s opinion, was not over the loss but over the responsibilities that came with assuming the title.
"You were in India, at the time, were you not?"
"I was," said Wesley, seeming surprised that the Baron knew, considering that the families were not previously acquainted.
Standish smiled disarmingly. "You came up fairly often in conversation with Hugh here," he said, by way of explanation. "Did you enjoy your travels? I always wanted to see more of the world, but with one thing and another... not that Caroline was ever interested in going farther than London." He chuckled indulgently.
Personally Hugh didn't see how the amiable and personable Standish could bear to spend any time with his social climbing, judgmental and icy wife, but to each his own. On the outside Irene might seem all closed up like her mother, especially when she was first introduced to someone, but she warmed up quite quickly and he was more than a little aware of the hot passion that was buried just beneath the surface. Just a touch was enough to set her simmering, although he was quite sure that she didn't entirely understand her responses. He hoped that with a little coaxing her passion would flare as brightly as her vibrant hair.
The conversation between Standish and Wesley flowed past him as he looked around the room, searching for the bright red hair of his new bride. Since she was the eldest and tallest of her sisters, and the only one dressed in shimmering white and gold, he found her almost immediately. She was facing Hugh and talking to another man, laughing actually, and Hugh felt a violent fission of jealousy lance through him. If she was talking so freely with the man she must know him well enough to feel comfortable; she was not the type to be so relaxed around a mere acquaintance. Unfortunately he couldn’t see who it was because the man’s back was to him, but he looked well dressed and his hair was a dark auburn, almost brown. Perhaps he was a relation.
