She managed a smile. 'I'm fine, only a little dizzy. It's absurd that we can turn only one direction during a waltz. If we could spin the other way now and then, it would be much easier.'
'Society thrives on absurdity,' he observed. 'Obscure rules are necessary so that outsiders can be identified and kept safely outside.'
While she pondered his unexpected insight, the waltz ended and another partner came to claim her. The evening passed quickly. After the lavish supper was served, the engagement was formally announced. Augusta was in her element as even her most powerful social rivals acknowledged her triumph.
Sunny felt a pang as she accepted the good wishes of people she had known all her life. This was her last summer in Newport. Though she would visit in the future, it would not be the same; already her engagement to an Englishman was setting her apart.
The first phase of her life was ending-and she had no clear idea what the next phase would be like.
It was very late when the last of the guests left. As her official fiance, Thornborough was allowed to escort Sunny to her room. When they reached her door, he said, 'My train leaves rather early tomorrow, so I'll say goodbye now.'
'I'm sorry that you'll have to travel without a proper night's sleep.' Almost too tired to stand, she masked a yawn with her hand. 'Have a safe and pleasant journey, Justin.'
His gaze caught hers, and she couldn't look away. The air between them seemed to thicken. Gently he curved his hand around her head and drew her to him for a kiss.
Because she didn't love him she had been dreading this moment, yet again he surprised her. His lips were warm and firm. Pleasant. Undemanding.
He caressed her hair, disturbing the rosebuds, and scented petals drifted over her bare shoulder in a delicate sensual caress. She gave a little sigh, and his arms went around her.
The feel of his broad chest and his hand on the small of her back triggered a vivid memory of her last kiss, in Pan Curzon's embrace. All the anger and shame of that episode flooded back. She stiffened and took an involuntary step backward.
He released her instantly. Though his eyes had darkened, his voice was mild when he said, 'Sleep well. I shall see you in October.'
She opened her door, but instead of entering her room she paused and watched his compact, powerful figure stride down the hall to his own chamber. In spite of warmth of the night, a shiver went down her spine. Her feelings about Justin were confused, but one thing was certain: it would be disastrous to continue to let the shadow of Paul Curzon come between her and her future husband. Yet she didn't know how to get rid of it.
Chapter Four
Justin stared at the blaring headline in one of the newspapers that had just been delivered to his hotel room. It was a rude shock for a man who had disembarked in New York City only two hours earlier.
Below the headline were drawings of Sunny and him-self. The likeness of him was not flattering. Were his brows really so heavy and threatening? Perhaps.
He smiled wryly as he skimmed the story; it was every bit as bad as Sunny had predicted. Apparently Americans had a maniacal interest in other people's private business. There was even a breathless description of the bride's garters, which were allegedly of gold lace with diamond-studded clasps. The item must have been invented, since he could not imagine Sunny discussing her garters with a riporter.
The thought of Sunny in her garters was so distracting that he swiftly flipped to the next newspaper. This featured a cartoon of a couple getting married by a blindfolded minister. The tall, slim bride wore a martyred expression as she knelt beside a dissolute-looking groom who was half a head shorter.
The accompanying story implied rather strongly that the Duke of Thornborough was a corrupt specimen of European cadhood who had come to the New World to coldly steal away the finest, freshest flower of American femininity. At the same time, there was an unmistakable undercurrent of pride that one of New York 's own was to become a duchess. Apparently the natives couldn't decide whether they loathed or loved the trappings of the decadent Old World.
Disgusted, he tossed the papers aside and finished dressing for the dinner that Augusta Vangelder was giving in his honor. Afterward, the marriage settlements would be signed. Yet though that would make him a far wealthier man, what made his heart quicken was the fact that after three long months, he would see Sunny again. And not only see, but touch…
After his Newport visit they had written each other regularly, and he had enjoyed her whimsical anecdotes about the rigors of preparing for a wedding. If she had ever expressed any affection for him, he might have had the courage to tell her his own feelings, for it would be easier to write about love than to say the words out loud.
But her letters had been so impersonal that anyone could have read them. He had replied with equal detachment, writing about Swindon and acquainting her with what she would find there. He had debated telling her about some of the improvements he had ordered, but decided to keep them as a surprise.
He checked his watch and saw that the carriage the Vangelders were sending should be waiting outside the hotel. Brimming with suppressed excitement, he went downstairs.
As he crossed the lobby, a voice barked, 'There he is!'
Half a dozen slovenly persons, obviously reporters, bolted across the marble floor and surrounded him. Refusing to be deterred, he kept walking through the babble of questions that came from all sides.
The loudest speaker, a fellow with a red checked vest, yelled, 'What do you think of New York, Duke?'
Deciding it was better to say something innocuous rather than to ignore them entirely, Justin said, 'A splendid city.'
Another reporter asked, 'Any of your family coming to the wedding, Duke?'
'Unfortunately that isn't possible.'
'Is it true that Sunny has the largest dowry of any American girl to marry a British lord?'
The sound of her name on the man's lips made Justin glad that he wasn't carrying a cane, for he might have broken it across the oaf's head. 'You'll have to excuse me,' he said, tight-lipped, 'for I have an engagement.'
'Are you going to visit Sunny now?' several chorused.
When Justin didn't answer, one of the men grabbed his arm. Clamping onto his temper, Justin looked the reporter in the eye and said in the freezing accents honed by ten generations of nobility, 'I beg your pardon?'
The man hastily stepped back. 'Sorry, sir. No offense meant.'
Justin had almost reached the door when a skinny fellow jumped in front of him. 'Are you in love with our Sunny, your dukeship, or are you only marrying her for the money?'
It had been a mistake to answer any questions at all, Justin realized; it only encouraged the creatures. 'I realize that none of you are qualified to understand gentlemanly behavior,' he said icily, 'so you will have to take my word for it that a gentleman never discusses a lady, and particularly not in the public press. Kindly get out of my way.'
The man said with a leer, 'Just asking what the American public wants to know, Thorny.'
'The American public can go hang,' Justin snapped.
Before the reporters could commit any further impertinence, several members of the hotel staff belatedly came to Justin's rescue. They swept the journalists aside and escorted him outside with profuse apologies and promises that such persons would never be allowed in the hotel again.
In a voice clipped by fury, Justin told the manager, 'I hope that is true, because if there is another episode like this I shall move to quieter quarters.'
Temper simmering, he settled into the luxurious Vangelder carriage. The sooner this damned wedding was over and he could take his wife home, the better.
Sunny was waiting in the Vangelder drawing room. She came forward with her hands outstretched, and if her smile wasn't quite as radiant as he would have liked, at least it was genuine.
'It's good to see you, Sunny.' He caught her hands and studied her face hungrily. 'You were right about the publicity surrounding the wedding. I'm afraid that I was just rather abrupt with some members of the press. Has it been hard on you?'
She made a face. 'Though it's been dreadful, I'm well protected here. But everyone in the household has been offered bribes to describe my trousseau.'
'Gold-lace garters with diamond-studded clasps?'
'You saw that?' she said ruefully. 'It's all so vulgar!'
She looked utterly charming. He was on the verge of kissing her when the door swung open. Justin looked up to see a tall, blond young man who had to be one of Sunny's older brothers.
'I'm Charlie Vangelder,' the young man said cheerfully as he offered his hand. 'Sorry not to meet you in Newport, Thornborough, but I was working on the railroad all summer. Have to learn how to ran it when my uncle retires, you know.'
So much for being alone with his intended bride. Suppressing a sigh, Justin shook hands with his future brother-in-law. A moment later, Augusta Vangelder swooped in, followed by a dozen more people, and it became clear that the 'quiet family dinner' was an occasion for numberless Vangelders to meet their new relation by marriage.
The only break was the half hour when Justin met with the Vangelder attorneys to sign the settlement papers. His solicitor had bargained well; the minute that Justin married Sunny, he would come into possession of five million dollars worth of railway stock with a guaranteed minimum income of two hundred thousand dollars a year.
There would also be a capital sum of another million dollars that Justin would receive outright, plus a separate income for Sunny's personal use so that she would never have to be dependent on her husband's goodwill for pin money. As an incentive for Justin to try to keep his wife happy, the stock would revert to the Vangelder family trust if the marriage ended in divorce.
Gavin would have been amused to know that the value of the Thornborough title had risen so quickly. May Russell would have brought only half as much to her
