Wickedly Ever After

  “Athena . . . what are you up to? Are you trying to get back at Marshall for forcing his suit upon you?”

  “Revenge is too commonplace, and will profit me nothing. I have in mind something infinitely more subtle and yet just as sinister. Sabotage.”

  “Athena, I hope you’re aware that Captain Hawkesworth’s mother is renowned for her intolerance of people of lower birth.”

  “Good. Then that shall make my job much easier.”

  The ancestral seat of the Hawkesworth family was revered for its grandeur. The house sprawled across acres of verdant land, its buttery limestone façade contrasting sharply with the green carpet of lawn. With the light of the setting sun falling upon its face, the house looked like a giant gold brick. Intricate gardens, replete with fountains and statuary, extended from the house like vast outdoor rooms. On the approach, the façade glassed itself in the broad lake.

  A dozen carriages were already entrenched along the side of the house when the crunch of the driveway gravel announced Athena’s arrival. Two liveried footmen approached, one to hold the horses still while the other handed the ladies down.

  “It appears as if the party is a bit larger than I imagined,” whispered Hester.

  Athena harrumphed. “For my purposes, the more the merrier.”

  The interior of the manor was more like a palace than a country estate. Statues lined the circular foyer, which opened onto an expanse of hallway. Pedestal candelabra illuminated the way to the ballroom, which was rumbling with the chatter of guests.

  The man she now knew to be Captain Marshall Hawkesworth materialized from the crowd, dressed in full military regalia. Against her will, the sight of him made Athena’s heart flutter. He was so handsome in that uniform that Athena momentarily forgot her quest. It fit him so perfectly that she could not remember him dressed otherwise. In fact, he seemed to wear the Navy from the inside out. Nevertheless, Athena steeled her heart.

  He took her hand and bowed curtly over it. “Welcome to Ashburnham Manor. Athena, you look ravishing.”

  “Spoken like one who knows the true meaning of ravishment.”

  He cocked his head, pondering her meaning. “Y-yes. And Lady Willett, how very fetching you look. What an honor to have you visit our home.”

  “Thank you, Captain Hawkesworth,” she replied.

  An older woman walked up behind Marshall. She was dressed in a dark blue dress in a gossamer fabric. Bright blond hair graced her head, the same shade as Marshall’s, though hers had faded with gray.

  “Ladies, may I present my mother, the dowager marchioness, Lady Aquilla Hawkesworth. Mother, I believe you’ve met Athena . . . my fiancée.”

  In an instant, Aquilla’s sharp blue eyes raked Athena up and down. They had first met when they discussed the course overview for Justine’s education. The interview had been brief, and Aquilla had agreed to Athena’s terms without dispute. And when Aquilla had delivered Justine and her luggage to the school, it was as if she were doing no more than bringing in a dress for alteration. Now, although Aquilla presented a smile, Athena could sense her intense disapproval.

  Athena curtsied. “My lady.”

  “Welcome to Ashburnham Manor, Miss McAllister. I do hope your ride wasn’t too difficult.”

  “Not at all. Your son provided an adequate mount.”

  Aquilla was puzzled by the response, but Marshall’s profound inhalation revealed his irritation. “Lady Hawkesworth, may I present Lady Willett.”

  Aquilla extended her hand. “Lady Willett, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you. Your husband is known to us.”

  “Thank you, my lady. I did hope you wouldn’t mind if I accompanied Athena in place of her grandfather.”

  Aquilla, who was a tall woman, peered down her nose at Athena. “I had hoped to meet your grandfather. Was it lack of health that kept him from joining us?”

  “No, my lady,” replied Athena. “Lack of sobriety.”

  “I see.” Aquilla cast a disapproving glance at her son. Exactly what Athena wanted to see.

  Marshall cleared his throat. “Miss McAllister is only funning, Mother. She has an impious sense of humor.”

  Athena smiled. “Captain Hawkesworth knows me too well. And with the passage of time, I have finally come to know him quite well too. Seeing you both side by side, I can now see where he gets his good looks. Although where he gets his sense of honesty is more of a puzzle.”

  Marshall had heard enough. He took her by the elbow. “Ladies, do excuse us while I have a word with Athena.” He didn’t wait for a response from any of them before he led her away forcefully to the hall.

  His voice was a low whisper, but his tone bellowed. “May I ask what in the hell you think you’re doing?”

  “I’m doing exactly as you asked. Meeting your family and friends.”

  “You know perfectly well what I’m talking about. Why are you acting like a little doxy?”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “I think you’ll find that as the evening wears on, the diminutive will not be necessary.”

  He straightened. “Are you trying to sabotage this betrothal?”

  She put on her most innocent face. “Sabotage? Why, all I’m trying to do is to show everyone in there precisely who it is you’re intending to marry.”

  He squared up on her. “I’m warning you, Athena. If you think you’re going to appeal to the court of public opinion to be spared from marrying me, you’re in for a big shock. None of the people in there have absolutely any influence over me. And in case I haven’t made myself perfectly clear, you’re going to marry me, whether you like it or not.”

  She pinned her fists to her hips. “See? That’s exactly what gets up my nose. Ordering me about like I’m one of your soldiers.”

  “Sailors.”

  “Whatever!”

  “They understand that I have a heavy hand for insolence, and you would do well to learn that. Carry on the way you’re doing, and I’ll make you regret your folly.” He took her hand, placed it on his outstretched arm, and led her back into the ballroom.

  A knot of men stood in a corner with drinks in their hands. One of their number was a rotund man with a jowly face, and he was dressed in a uniform similar to Marshall’s. As they approached, she caught the tail end of his story.

  “So the French damsel whom the old Englishman rescued said to him, ‘Oh, monsieur, I regret I have nothing with which to pay you.’ The old man replied, ‘No, my dear, you have something with which to pay me, but I regret I have nothing with which to charge you!’ ”

  The three other men burst out in deep-throated laughter.

  Marshall cleared his throat. “Excuse me, Admiral. I wondered if I might introduce my fiancée, Miss Athena McAllister.”

  The man turned around, his sparking blue eyes beaming down on her from beneath twin white clouds of eyebrows. “You certainly may! Miss McAllister, how very delightful to meet you.”

  “Athena,” continued Marshall, “this is Admiral Jasper Rowland of His Majesty’s Royal Navy.”

  Athena curtsied. “Sir.”

  “You’re even prettier than Hawkesworth described you.”

  Athena had to blush at that. “I wasn’t aware I had become a topic of discourse.”

  “Ho! The only other female I have heard him talk about with as lively an interest was his ship.”

  It was hard for Athena to scowl at such a rosy-cheeked smile. “His ship?”

  “The HMS Reprisal. Hawkesworth here was her captain for many years.”

  “I see. And did she chafe under his control too?”

  “Athena—” There was a smile on Marshall’s face, but a warning on his lips.

  “Oh, hardly,” replied the admiral. “His men would follow him to the gates of Hades. By Jove, on occasion they have done.”

  Athena chuckled behind her smile, casting Marshall a sidewise glance. “Too bad they didn’t leave him there.”

  The admiral tossed back his head and laughed. His heavy jowls shook like a
plate of calf’s foot jelly.

  “By Jove, you were right about her, Hawkesworth. She’s just as dangerous as any battleship.”

  Marshall sighed. “And just as difficult to command, sir. If you’ll excuse us.”

  The admiral reached out and grasped her hand. “No, sir, I will not. We’re just getting to know one another. You carry on. I want to learn more about this delightful creature. Come, my dear. Let’s get a drink in your hand.”

  Marshall stood rooted to the spot as the admiral swept her away. She threw him a glance over her shoulder, and his face returned a multitude of warning looks.

  “I must say how utterly surprised we all were by the news that Hawkesworth had finally chosen a bride. I never thought that a crusty old nautical cove like him would ever sprout roots on land.”

  “No?”

  The admiral handed her a glass of champagne from a passing salver. “Life aboard a ship is never pleasant. Particularly a warship. The smell of unwashed bodies, the dry bread, the rotten food, the bad drink. The . . . loneliness for a woman’s comfort. It takes a man of stern stuff to even endure that sort of life, let alone choose it.”

  “Choose it?”

  “Yes. Look around you. This is where Hawkesworth grew up. Enveloped by wealth and circumstance. A lesser man would have nestled into this life of privilege, secure in his fortune and titles. But not your future husband. He’s a patriot. A man devoted to serving king and country. Never afraid to put himself in harm’s way for a worthy cause. It is sufficient to most men to be protectors of their homes. Hawkesworth is a protector of his homeland.”

  Athena turned toward Marshall, standing in profile amid a gathering of people on the opposite side of the dance floor. The first time she had seen him in uniform, all she could see was deception. It was as if he were wearing a new identity, one foreign to her. Now, the uniform he was wearing began to mean something to her—something true and good, and it touched her deep inside.

  “He’s the finest officer His Majesty commands,” the admiral continued. “All who know him are loyal to him.”

  Maybe that was the problem. She wasn’t sure that she did know him.

  “And you, my dear, were the one to finally charm him. I simply had to steal you away to see if you would have the same effect upon me.”

  “The mystery must stand unsolved, Admiral Rowland. I don’t profess to be a tender woman. In fact, quite the opposite.”

  “Oh, I never expected you to be tender. Marshall has always been repelled by milky women. I just knew you would have a lot more pluck.”

  Athena nodded slowly, fueling a spark of illumination. “Repelled, you say?”

  “Absolutely. Take that lady over there.” The admiral used his glass to point to an elegantly dressed woman in the corner talking to two men. “That’s Lady Cordelia Renville-Hope, the duke’s daughter. She had her cap set for him for years. A gentle woman, in the strictest sense of the word, and a diamond of the first water. But that sweet disposition of hers, which has those two chaps circling her like flies, is like vinegar to Hawkesworth. Never understood why. But I suppose the great democracy of love is that all may have it, even a man like Marshall.”

  Athena took a long draught of the champagne. If Marshall was repelled by soft women, it was no wonder he had been so attracted to her. Clearly, she had been going about this all wrong. She had to go meet the woman who could curl Marshall’s lip so. She just might learn how to sour him on herself as well.

  Before she had a chance to press the admiral for more information, Justine bounded up to them and embraced Athena soundly.

  “Miss McAllister! I’m so happy to see you again!”

  “And I you, Justine. Happy birthday.”

  “Thank you.” With an informal smile to the admiral, Justine whisked Athena away toward the balcony at the far end of the ballroom.

  It was a cool night, but there was no wind to chill them. Justine dragged her to a darkened alcove hidden behind a large potted plant. “It had to have been you. I just knew it had to have been you.”

  Athena smiled curiously at Justine’s bubbling enthusiasm. “What are you talking about?”

  “When Marshall told me he had chosen you for his bride, it all became clear to me. It was you who changed his mind about Herbert Stanton.”

  “Herbert Stanton? The man you wrote to tell me had become your fiancé?”

  “My fiancé no longer!” she tossed back, her gentle brown eyes glowing with gratitude. “Marshall said I didn’t have to marry him. And I have you to thank for that!”

  Athena shook her head. “Justine, I am happy you aren’t being forced into an unwanted marriage, but I assure you your appreciation is misplaced. I said nothing to Captain Hawkesworth on your behalf about Herbert Stanton.”

  Justine threw her arms around Athena. “You didn’t have to. You changed his heart. No one but you could have done that.”

  Athena patted Justine’s slender back. “I . . . I don’t know what you mean.”

  She pulled away and looked into Athena’s face earnestly. “Miss McAllister, you taught him the beauty of marrying for love. It was something I couldn’t do in all the years since my coming-out. Neither he nor Father ever gave a care as to whether or not I should love my husband-to-be. And then you came along. Now Marshall says that unless I meet the man I love, I don’t ever have to marry. Can you imagine that? I never thought such words would come out of Marshall’s mouth.”

  Nor did Athena. She couldn’t explain what caused such a change in Marshall toward Justine. But whatever it was, he didn’t extend it to Athena. He was permitting his sister to stay unwed unless she marry for love, but insisting that Athena marry him whether she loved him or not. It wasn’t fair.

  “I’m very happy for you, Justine,” Athena said begrudgingly. “I do hope you find the man whose wife you wish to become.”

  Justine leaned in conspiratorially. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about, Miss McAllister. I have already found him.”

  Her eyes widened. “Oh?”

  Worry lined Justine’s face. “But I’m afraid he might not be . . . suitable.”

  “Oh.”

  “I know Marshall expects me to find a man of rank or wealth to marry. But I’ve fallen in love with a man who has . . . neither.”

  “Oh!” Athena swallowed hard. “Who is he?”

  Justine looked up with a guilty expression. It was the same expression she wore when she admitted how much she enjoyed the lecture on Sensual Touch. “His name is Elliott Keane. He’s our groom.”

  “I see. Well . . . congratulations.”

  “Oh, Miss McAllister, you don’t understand. Marshall will never allow me to marry Elliott. He’s a servant in our household. It’d be too much of a step down, you see.”

  Athena inhaled sharply. “Well, I shouldn’t worry if I were you. You can always accuse him of hypocrisy. Marshall is taking a step down with me as well.”

  “Couldn’t you have a talk with him, Miss McAllister? He’ll listen to you.”

  “Justine, you are laboring under the misconception that I can control your brother. Really, I have very little influence over him.”

  Justine’s large brown eyes focused on hers. “But he loves you.”

  Those words shattered on Athena’s heart. “I can’t imagine those words coming out of Marshall’s mouth either.”

  Irritation snapping inside her, she went back inside and looked for her rival. Once, she had to pretend to be someone else to attract a man. Now she had to pretend to be someone else to repel one.

  She found Lady Cordelia Renville-Hope talking with a vicar.

  Though she was well beyond thirty, there was no outward taint of spinsterhood about Lady Cordelia. Her beauty transcended the blush of youth and dwelt in the realm of womanly charms. A tall, regal-looking woman, she had upswept black hair that revealed high cheekbones and a pale complexion that was only beginning to show the fine lines indicative of her age. The dress that she wore was breathtaking
in its elegance, an ivory Grecian frock shimmering with tiny diamonds at the bodice and hem. As rivals go, she presented significant competition. Athena was bent on disliking her.

  “Lady Cordelia? How do you do? I am Athena McAllister.” She held out a gloved hand.

  Athena expected a stiff, reluctant smile, but Lady Cordelia’s expression was conciliatory. “Ah, yes, Miss McAllister. I’ve heard so much about you.”

  “Oh? From whom?”

  “The marchioness. She has been . . . in anticipation of this evening.”

  “I see. A pity one cannot outdistance one’s own reputation.”

  “No, indeed. And I hear a happy event is in prospect. I’m very happy for you.”

  And yet, Athena could see she was not. “Thank you. I know this is indelicate of me to say, but I understand that at one time you had some feelings for Mr. Marsh—that is, Captain Hawkesworth.”

  “Miss McAllister, I hope you don’t think that I would do anything to—”

  Athena waved away her protestation. “Not at all. Please forgive me for asking this, but it really is essential that I have the truth. You are much lovelier than I, and of a station far superior to mine, and I simply must know why it is that he didn’t offer for you instead.”

  Her forehead creased as her countenance fell. “Your question wounds me deeply, Miss McAllister.”

  “I don’t mean to cause you embarrassment, my lady, but the fact is, I’ve had no wish to encourage his suit, and I want to know how I can dissuade him from seeking me. And if you help me, I will do all I can to advance your interest in the matter.”

  Her frown changed from distress to puzzlement. “You mean you don’t want to marry him?”

  Athena shook her head. “I’m not fond of arrogant men.”

  Surprise overtook her features. “Arrogant? Captain Hawkesworth is not arrogant. If anything, he’s proud, and he has a right to be. The nobility of his family goes back to the reign of Elizabeth I, and has remained honorable through each successive generation. He is a hero, twice decorated by the prince regent, and one of the most promising officers in the king’s service. His accomplishments are legend, as is, in my opinion, his beauty. All his friends are true to him, principally because he always considers others above himself. Say what you will of him, Captain Hawkesworth does not deserve to be called arrogant.”