Free The Reluctant Husband by Madeleine Conway

Then she had fallen ill and disappeared to London. When she returned, lithe, limber, and more adventurous than ever, Jem had taken great delight in teaching her still wilder antics. It did not occur to him, being unfamiliar with the constraints placed about young ladies making their bow in Society, to ask how she managed to find the privacy and time to practice her skills, but every few months, she would reappear, ready for a new set of lessons. By the time she was eighteen, she could perform handstands or twist beneath a horse’s belly and appear in the saddle once more while the beast was in mid-canter. Dancing and deportment lessons had instilled in her considerable grace and she seemed to have gained in strength since her sickness.
    In truth, riding was Cecilia’s great release. Initially, the concentration needed to perform tricks was the one attribute that drove out all thoughts of Ormiston and his harshness. Then, it became a vital escape from the constrictions of life in Society. Although Admiral Ketley kept a fine stable, he was not greatly interested by horseflesh. His grooms were not kept busy, and preferred it thus. When Cecilia arrived and one of them had to accompany her on all her rides, they were initially resentful. But she preferred to arrange for the hire of a private, indoor school where she could work on Jem’s tricks and take bruising rides in all weathers while they waited for her in a dry corner, smoking and relaxing. She regularly spent the first part of the morning in this manner, and found her patience with the constant changes of clothes and largely inane conversational twittering of her companions much increased by this exercise.
    Being an intelligent young woman, Cecilia had realized early enough that Lady Ketley wished to promote the match with Ormiston. She did attempt to make discreet enquiries about her legal position, but she lacked gravitas and time to pursue them. What she had discovered indicated that she was more closely bound to Ormiston than her father—or, indeed, Lord Dacre—had anticipated. Much of the time, she was too intent on enjoying herself and diverting her companions to dwell on the future, but as time passed, her friends began to make matches, and fresh crops of young girls entered Society every year. Now she was nineteen, and had been out for three seasons. This year, she had caught from tittle-tattle that in certain circles, she was known as “The Impregnable,” and more than one young man had entered into the wager books at Brooks and Whites (and less exalted gaming clubs) his intention of capturing a kiss from the fortress.
    When Admiral Ketley was sent to Paris, his wife and niece had been quick to ask whether they might accompany him. Cecilia was unsure whether Lady Ketley knew of her niece’s nickname and reputation, but the removal to a foreign country was fortuitous. Or so it had seemed until the chance revelation of one of Lady Ketley’s acquaintances that an eligible young English nobleman had recently arrived in Paris and had impressed Madame de Stael and so many others with his address, his elegance, his sophistication. Why, Lord Ormiston was so charming, so well travelled, so monstrous handsome, he had the pick of Paris beauties. It was said his departure from Venice had left the ladies of the Veneto heartbroken, and one particular lady near to death, such was the devotion he inspired. He had some business back in England, something to do with wills and estates, but once he had settled his affairs, he was planning to return to Italy, for he found his native land uncongenial.
    Naturally, no communication had passed between Ormiston and his wife in all the years of their separation, but Cecilia was irked by her own ignorance of her husband’s movements. Once it was known that he was a guest of the Ferrières family, it was easy enough to track his path through Paris, and Cecilia had immediately determined that she would