Mary Balogh - The Gilded Web

CONTENTS

To Jacqueline,
my daughter, with love

E TERNITY

He who bends to himself a Joy

Does the winged life destroy;

But he who kisses the Joy as it flies

Lives in Eternitys sunrise.

W ILLIAM B LAKE

Dear Reader,

In its continued commitment to making my backlist available to readers again, Dell is republishing my Web trilogy, which has been out of print for a long time but is much in demand by readers, especially those who have discovered me only recently through the Bedwyn series and the Simply quartet. Here is the first book of the trilogy.

The Gilded Web was first published in 1989a long time ago. I was surprised when I read it again recently to discover how much my writing has changed in the intervening years. Some would say the change is for the better; other readers have a particular fondness for my older books. It will be for you to decide what you think!

This is the love story of Alexandra Purnell and Edmond Raine, Earl of Amberley, forced by bizarre circumstances into an uneasy alliance not of their choosing. It is also, to a lesser degree, the story of James Purnell, Alexs brother, and of Dominic and Madeline Raine, Edmonds twin brother and sister.

Web of Love will tell Dominics story. Devils Web will tell Madeline and Jamess. I do hope you will enjoy this first book in the series and will come back for the other two when they are republished. I am more than happy to see some of my older books in print again.

Mary Balogh

I T WAS A BITTERLY COLD NIGHT FOR EARLY May. It was not actually raining, but there was a heavy cloud cover, and the strong wind felt like a thousand knives to the scantily clad young lady who walked alone into its teeth. The thin dark cloak that she wore over an even thinner ball gown seemed like no protection at all, though she held it closed at the front with one hand and huddled inside it. The other hand held the loose sides of the hood tight beneath her chin.

Alexandra Purnell shivered and lowered her head. But she did not turn back to the ballroom behind her, despite the inviting glow of hundreds of candles through the long windows and the memory of scores of gay, brightly dressed guests. And despite the fact that the room she had just left was warmperhaps even a little too warm, as the French doors into the garden had been firmly closed against the inclement weather.

No, foolish as it seemed, Alexandra preferred the discomfort of a solitary walk in the garden to the pleasures of the ballroomfor a short time anyway. In fact, she almost welcomed the weather just as it was. If it were warmer or less windy, doubtless there would be any number of guests strolling outside, and she would be unable to find any solitude at all.

She glanced back over her shoulder, but there was no one behind her. And there were no accusing faces at the French windows watching her make her temporary escape. Even so, she instinctively moved farther away from the lights of the house and closer to the dark back alley across from the stable block. It seemed that London dwellers were doomed either to live at some remove from their own stables or else to have them almost on top of the house.

Alexandra shivered again, and burrowed her chin behind the hand that held her hood firmly closed. She blew warm air down into her clasped hand. It was doubtless foolish to have run away like this. Her slippers were probably stained with grass. And her smooth chignon, which she had insisted upon despite Nanny Reys plea that she try a hair fashion more suited to the festive occasion, would be flattened and disheveled by the close-held hood. And she certainly could not escape for an indefinite period. She would have to go back soon.

She was one-and-twenty years old already, she told herself in an interior monologue that had become very familiar to her mind over the past weeks. She was in her first and perhaps her only really active Season in London, which involved her in all the diversions of the beau monde. Papa had decided, quite without warning, that she must be given a proper introduction to society before her long-planned betrothal to the Duke of Peterleigh became official. They had taken a house on Curzon StreetPapa, Mama, her brother James, and herself. And they had met all the right people and attended all the proper functions in the month since.

She should be happy. Most young ladies would be ecstatic to be in her position. But she felt positively in her dotage beside all the other young girls who were making their come-out. And she could not feel comfortable with such a life. Nothing in her past had prepared her for the gaiety and frivolity of London. She was only now beginning to realize fully what a very strict and narrow upbringing she and James had had at Dunstable Hall. Almost any form of entertainment and personal pleasure had been frowned upon by Papa. Every thought and word and action had revolved around church and the Scriptures and Papas firmly held notions of virtue and morality. And unlike James, she had not even been to school to discover that there was another world beyond home.

She had been intended for the Duke of Peterleigh for as far back as she could remember. She had met him only on a few occasions and then very briefly and formally. He did not live often on his estate, which adjoined theirs. He was twenty years her senior and spent most of his time in London on government business.

Alexandra had never questioned the fact that she would marry him when the time came. And she still did not do so. They had met a few times since her arrival in London, and she had found nothing to censure in him. He was in many ways like her fatherstern and severe in manner, it was true, but surely an honest and an upright man. Unfortunately, he was also a busy man and did not appear at nearly as many entertainments as she was expected to attend.

And so there was an awkwardness about her come-out. She did not feel any affinity with the members of society around her. And she was not in search of a husband, or a flirt, as most of the other girls seemed to be. Papa did not like her to dress quite as fashionably as the others, and she could not bring herself even to dress her hair in a pretty fashion.

And there were the Harding-Smythes to contend with almost wherever she went. They kept her constantly aware of her inadequacies. Her aunt Deirdre, Papas sister, always assumed that she lacked amusement and went out of her way to provide it. Her efforts were kindly meant, perhaps, but her ideas of amusement were not Alexandras. Her cousin Caroline simpered and clung, more in an attempt to attract James than out of any real affection for her, Alexandra felt. And Cousin Albert appeared to have set himself the task of protecting an innocent young country cousin from all the evils and temptations of London. His manner toward her, toplofty and condescending, irritated her beyond bearing.

Alexandra blew again onto her cold hand. Had she been very rude to Caroline and Aunt Deirdre earlier? Did she owe them an apology? They had wanted her to return home with them that night so that she might accompany them to the shops on Bond Street the next morning. They had even secured her mothers permission before coming to ask her and had arranged to have a maid bring suitable clothes for her to wear the next day. But she had refused their invitation. She had not even softened her abruptness by offering some sort of excuse. She had been taught too well that telling the truth is always a virtue and that there is no such thing as a white lie.