The Marriage Bargain by Michelle McMaster

hand tuck into the crook of his elbow. It was terribly pleasing.
    “Now, you know what to do?”
    “Yes. If anyone says anything out of turn, I am to bat my eyelashes, laugh, as charmingly as possible, and perhaps sigh rather whimsically.”
    “Exactly. And if that doesn’t win them over, be sure to swoon. Most people love a good swoon.”
    “Will Miss Haversham be there?”
    Beckett nodded. “Like Napoleon, itching for battle. And you must be like Wellington. Stand your ground, and you’ll see the enemy run.”
    “Oh dear,” Isobel said, looking worried. “Will there be time to dance, in between dodging enemy volleys?”
    Beckett laughed, admiring Isobel’s spirit. “I will make certain you do more dancing than dodging, my dear. Now, this is our first ball as the earl and countess of Ravenwood. Let us do nothing more than enjoy ourselves, and make those fools regret not having attended our wedding, hmm?”
    Beckett led his wife out the door and helped her into the waiting carriage. As they pulled away down the tree-lined street, he hoped for Isobel’s sake that this evening would not be the disaster Cordelia would surely try to make it.

    * * *
    The carriage rolled into the long torchlit drive of Whitcomb Park and stopped as they waited for a space.

    Carriages lined the circular drive from end to end. In the flickering light, a steady flow of guests promenaded up the wide staircase and through the main doors.
    Isobel had never seen so many fashionable people in one place before. But these were members of the ton. They made the fashion. And tonight they were here to see her.
    Surely, though, they would see through her. Surely they would see that she was not truly the countess of Ravenwood, so much as an actress playing the part. Who was she, really? Certainly she was no longer the innocent girl she’d been at Hampton Park. Now, she was the wife of a virtual stranger… and she herself was a stranger in a strange world.
    As they waited to pull up beside the steps, Isobel looked across at Beckett, who sat back leisurely as if this were a simple soiree they were attending. The flames from the torches lit the inside of the cab, flickering over his face in the dark.
    Beckett was not the first handsome man she had ever seen, certainly not. But for some reason, over the last few days, Isobel found herself stealing glances at him when he wasn’t looking. And then she would remember that he’d undressed her that first night and her face would blush with heat.
    Since they were man and wife, she told herself, she could have much more to blush about than the fact that he’d undressed her once.
    The door opened and a footman appeared, reaching his hand in to help Isobel out of the carriage. She gathered up her skirts and put her hand in the footman’s as he helped her to the ground. Beckett quickly followed, offering his arm to Isobel.
    “We must keep watch for Alfred,” Beckett said. “It’s always good to have him around once the quips start flying.”
    Isobel glanced at her husband, suddenly feeling uncertain. It must have shown on her face, for Beckett clasped her hand in his and smiled down at her reassuringly. Strange how one touch of his hand could calm her inner fears, while at the same time set her heart to racing.
    Through the massive front doors, Isobel could see the dancers swirling around the ballroom. Music drifted out to greet them on the soft evening breeze. The orchestra played a sprightly waltz, which rang over the sounds of conversation and pattering feet.
    The women all seemed to be floating in concoctions of diaphanous fabric, their jewelry glittering in the light from the hanging candelabras. A heady mixture of flowers, food, and brandy perfumed the air.
    Isobel looked down at her gown of amber silk and hoped she looked like a countess. She touched the topaz necklace that her husband had given her, and took a deep breath.
    “The earl and countess of Ravenwood,” the butler announced, holding