Читать книгу Regency Society - Хелен Диксон, Ann Lethbridge, Хелен Диксон - Страница 83

The sun was well up by the time Adrian awakened. He did nothing to acknowledge it for his lover was still sleeping on his arm. The night had been as glorious as the night before, and parts of the night before that. As exciting as the fight in the tavern. And probably almost as dangerous.

I love you.

When she had said it, along with the abject terror it had raised in him had been the ghostly echo of a response in his own heart—how could something as perfect as the time they spent together not have some deeper feeling in it? He smoothed a hand over her curls and she nuzzled him in her sleep.

If she had said nothing, he’d have ignored his intentions and taken her up against the wall in the salon, trusting that she would tell him if they were not alone—he could not have heard a servant’s footstep had he tried, his heart had been beating so loudly. Apparently, there was madness in what he felt for her as well.

And then she had said the words, and he’d stopped himself, too near the brink. He’d taken her to dinner, then he’d taken her to bed. And he’d loved her in all the ways he could until he was sure that she had forgotten.

But her pillow was wet with tears. And in her sleep, she had whimpered like a lost child.

She stirred; he ran a soothing hand over her back, wishing that she would sleep again. It felt good to be here and he did not want to go. She rolled off his arm to free it, and he could feel her and see the shadow as she propped herself up on her elbows in the pillows. ‘You are not going to run away from me in the dawn?’

‘I am afraid it is too late for that already. But I must go soon.’

‘Then stay a while longer,’ she said. ‘Give me time to wash and dress. I will go with you and see you home.’

He frowned. ‘There is no need to help me. I am quite capable of managing a carriage ride, you know.’

‘Of course you are, Adrian.’ She rose from the bed, and opened the window curtains without waiting for a servant, letting the light stream in on them. ‘But it is a beautiful morning. And to walk in the park, for just a little while, would be delightful.’

‘You should not go out without escort,’ he said absently, wondering if she meant to take a maid with them as well.

‘I will have you.’

‘You will not.’

‘Just a short outing together. In sunlight.’

‘Do you wish for me to ride in Rotten Row?’ he snapped, wishing that he had not just revealed the fear he felt when he thought of so public a place. ‘I suspect that would be most amusing for all concerned.’

‘Of course I do not wish you to ride. If you mean to break your neck, then I pray you, find another way. You cannot trust a horse to do the deed without undo suffering. To me especially, for I would not wish to watch.’

And now she had made him laugh, against his better judgement.

‘But there is nothing wrong with your legs, is there?’ She had come back to the bed and her fingers were stroking them, with faint touches meant to raise the hairs and tease the nerves to restlessness.

He pulled away from her and sat up, dangling his feet off the edge of her bed. ‘No.’

‘How long has it been since you have enjoyed a simple walk in the park? You prowl the streets at night, of course. But it would be nice to feel the sun on one’s face.’ She crawled after him, putting her arms about his waist and giving a little squeeze. ‘For both of us.’

She was right, of course. It must be difficult for her to meet only at night. While the secrecy was necessary, it must make her feel as though he was ashamed of her company. And he knew how sensitive she still was on the subject of her worth. ‘It is not just a matter of revealing ourselves, my dear. I have not made my condition publicly known. And while it is possible to disguise it in familiar territory and for short periods of time, should I be seen blundering into a tree in Hyde Park, I suspect that the world will be too soon completely aware.’

‘I am suggesting nothing of the kind,’ she argued. ‘It is not fashionable there until late in the afternoon. If we go now, no one will be about. We could keep our stroll short, on a path that is straight and level and far away from Kings Road. If you take my arm, you might lead me, and I will inform you of any obstacles, just as we do here. It will be most uneventful.’

‘And not particularly interesting. If you wish to spend the day with me, I can think of better uses for your time.’ He leaned against her, feeling her breasts pressing into his back, and her breath upon his neck.

‘If a morning outing bores you, then you need have nothing to fear from it,’ she responded tartly.

‘Fear? I faced Napoleon’s army without flinching. I do not avoid the park because I am afraid.’ Terrified was more the word.

‘Of course you are not. But I do not see why you cannot give me what I ask, when it is such a small thing.’

‘It is because it’s so small that I see no value in it.’ He reached behind him to touch her face. ‘Perhaps I could buy you a trinket. Some fobs for those lovely ears.’

‘And how would I explain them to my friends? Would I tell them that my husband had given me a gift?’ Now it was her turn to laugh bitterly. ‘They will assume that I am unfaithful far more quickly from that than if they see me taking the air with a male acquaintance.’

She was glib this morning, and as frank as she had been from the first. But last night she had said she loved him. And he was pretending she had said nothing, and treating her little better than a whore, kept for one purpose, and plied with jewellery to avert a sulk. He shamed himself with his behaviour more than he ever could by groping his way around Hyde Park.

As if she could sense his weakening, she said, more softly, ‘We will not be out for long. And tonight, for your reward, you can do as you like with me.’ She was kissing his back now, and spreading her hands in his lap over his manhood, perfectly still as though waiting for his instructions. ‘But for now? You owe me this, at least.’

Because you will not love me. That was what she meant, he was sure. And he wondered if this would be the first of many such bargains: pouts and capitulations that would lead to arguments, bitterness and regrets. If it was, it was likely the beginning of the end for them. The scales that had been so delicately balanced would never be right again. Last night, words had been spoken and they could not be unsaid.

But he did not want to give her up. Not yet. It was too soon. And although he had not intended to feel anything, ever again, she made him happy. He captured her hands before she could arouse him, and turned his face to kiss her, then pretended to consider. ‘To do as I like with you? That is an offer I have no power to resist. Even without it, I will go. I need no other reason but that it pleases you. Now if you mean for me to leave this room in daylight, you had best let me dress before I change my mind and take you back to bed.’

Emily could see, from the moment they left the carriage, that the trip had been a good idea. She allowed the coachman to help her down, and then took her husband’s arm as he waited on the ground for her. Adrian’s face was tipped towards the sunlight; he was staring up into the canopy of leaves above them as though he had never seen such a wonderful thing.

Without knowing it, she would never have guessed that the sense of wonder had less to do with the fine day than his inability to see the trees with any clarity.

He looked down and to the side again, as he always did, tipping the brim of his hat a bit to provide more shade. ‘There are tinted glasses they gave me, after the injury on the battlefield, to shield my eyes against the glare of the sun. Perhaps I shall find them again, for occasions like this.’

‘You mean to go out with me again?’

He sighed. ‘With or without you. Someday, rumour of my condition is bound to get out. There will be no point in hiding in my rooms when it does.’

It was the first she had heard of him planning for anything but his premature death. She stifled the surprise she felt, fearing that an acknowledgement of it might scare the idea from his head.

But he did not seem to notice his own change in attitude, and touched his own eyes thoughtfully. ‘It might make it easier to manage in sunlight, with what vision I have left. And disguise any unfortunate staring on my part. I would not want to be thought rude.’

‘An interesting sentiment, coming from the man I met a few days ago,’ she answered.

He laughed again. ‘No gentleman wishes to be met by a lady in such surroundings as you found me. It makes it too difficult to pretend to any gentility at a later date. Come, let us take a turn around the park, so that I might prove I have manners.’

She gave his elbow a little squeeze. ‘The path is just to the left. And straight on. There is no one in sight.’

‘There never is, my dear.’

She cringed at her own insensitivity. ‘I am sorry.’

‘Why ever for? You did not strike me blind with your beauty,’ he said, taking her hand and raising it to his lips for a salute. ‘Nor do I begrudge you your vision.’

She relaxed a little as he put her hand back on his arm. ‘Sometimes, I am still unsure how to behave around you. You have been angry enough to destroy your life over this, you know. It does not bespeak a man content in his disability.’

‘Perhaps not. But today, things are different.’ He took a deep breath. ‘It is much harder to be bitter when the sun is shining and the roses are in bloom.’

‘You can smell them?’

‘You cannot?’

Emily paused and sniffed. Of course she could. But she had been far too focused on the delicate colour of them to notice the fragrance. She let him walk her closer to the bank of carefully tended flowers. ‘They are beautiful,’ she said.

‘There was a fine garden of them at my home in Derbyshire. York and Lancaster and white damask, with boxwood hedges. I wonder if it is still there.’

Yes. We will walk in it yet this summer, my love. ‘I would expect so,’ she said. ‘A country home is nothing without a rose garden.’

‘Describe these to me.’

‘Red, pink, yellow.’ It was quite inadequate to his needs, she was sure. ‘The red has a touch of purple in it. And shadows. Like velvet in candlelight.’

He reached out a hand, and she put it on a bloom. ‘The texture is velvet as well. Feel.’

She touched them, too, and found that he was right, then moved to the next bush. ‘And these,’ she said, ‘are apple roses. Big and pink, and the velvet is more in the leaves than the flowers. And here are your damasks.’

He gave a nod of approval. ‘As there should be.’ And then he cocked his head. ‘And there is a lark.’

She glanced around her. ‘Where? I do not see him.’

He pointed, unerringly, towards a tree on their left. When she looked closely, she thought she saw a flash of feathers in the leaves. ‘Poor confused fellow,’ he said. ‘It is past nesting season. Unusual to hear that particular song so late in the year.’

‘They have different songs?’

‘They speak to each other, just as we do.’ He smiled, listening again. ‘That is a male, looking for a mate.’

There was an answering warble, in a tree on the right. ‘And there she is.’ He sighed. ‘He has found her after all. Well done, sir.’ And, almost absently, he patted her arm.

She smiled up at him, happy to be in her rightful place, on the arm of the handsome Earl of Folbroke, even if it was just for an hour. She had never noticed the park to be so full of life before. But Adrian was quick to discover things that she had not noticed and to point them out to her as they passed. The few people that they met as they walked smiled and nodded, taking no more notice of her husband than they would have in any other passer-by.

She could feel him tense each time, as though fearing a response. And each time, when none came, he relaxed a bit more. ‘There are more people here than you promised,’ he said absently.

‘I might have lied a bit in calling it empty. But it is not crowded. And not as bad as you feared, I am sure,’ she said. ‘I see no one that I recognise. And the people that are out take no notice of us, walking together. There is nothing so unique in your behaviour as to incite comment from a casual observer. In truth, we are a most unexceptional pair.’

He chuckled. ‘My pride is well checked, madam. I have made an appearance in public and the sky did not fall. In fact, no one noticed. If they thought anything about me, I am sure they whisper at what a lucky fellow I am, to be taking the air with such a beauty.’

‘You are in excellent spirits today.’

Adrian looked up, and around him, as though he could still see his surroundings. ‘It is a beautiful day, is it not? You were right for forcing me into the sunlight, my dear. It has been far too long.’

‘It has,’ she said softly back to him. ‘And I have another gift for you, if you will accept it from me.’

‘It is not another piano, is it? Or perhaps some other musical instrument? Are you about to pull a trumpet from your reticule and force me to blow it and scare away the birds?’

‘Nothing so great as that, I assure you.’

He smiled down at his feet. ‘And it is not your own sweet person that you offer. Although if you were to suggest that we nip behind a rosebush for a kiss, I would not deny you.’

She gave him the mildest of rebukes, nudging his arm with her shoulder ‘Not that, either.’

‘Then I have no idea what you are about. But since we are in public when you offer it, I assume you are unsure of my reaction. Here you know I do not wish to call attention to myself, and will have little choice to accept, with grace, whatever you offer me.’ There was a sardonic twist to his lip. ‘Out with it. You are making me apprehensive.’

She reached into her reticule, digging for the card she had found. ‘Can you read French?’

He gave her a dubious grin. ‘Madam, I thought I made it plain enough the night we met that reading of any kind is quite beyond me.’

She responded with a sniff so that he might know of her annoyance, and said, ‘You are being difficult with me again. And I am not being clear enough with you. For that, I apologise. I should have more rightly said, before your difficulty overtook you, did you learn to read the French language?’

It was his turn to huff impatiently at her. ‘Of course I did. Despite what you might think, after finding me in such low estates, I was brought up properly and well educated. It might have been easier had I not been. One cannot miss what one has never known.’

‘But you were fluent?’

‘Better in Greek and Latin. But, yes, I managed tolerably well in French. I could understand and be understood. But I fail to see how that matters.’

Emily thrust the stiff sheet of paperboard into one of his hands, and placed the fingers of his other on the raised letters there. ‘See what you can make of this.’

He frowned as he dragged his fingers over the surface, moving too quickly to interpret the patterns. ‘What is it?’ he whispered.

‘A poem. The author was a Frenchman, and a scholar. And blind,’ she added. ‘From what I have been able to gather on the subject, the French people seem much more enlightened in the education of those with your problem. There are quite interesting experiments in place for the teaching of mathematics, geography and even reading and writing. But much of the work is all in French, and I have not …’

He held the card loosely, not even trying to examine it. ‘And if you have not noticed, my love, we are currently at war with France.’

‘But we will not be for ever. Once we have conquered Napoleon, there will be peace between our countries. I am sure of it. And then, perhaps, we might go to Paris.’

‘And perhaps they will have established a language for me, and perhaps I shall learn it. And we will live together, in a little flat on the banks of the Seine, and forget our spouses and our common English troubles. And I will write French poems to you.’ He handed it back to her.

‘Perhaps we shall.’ She took the card and turned to him, forcing it into the pocket where he kept her picture. ‘Although I understand the impossibility of some of what you are saying, is it really such a strange idea that you might be able to better yourself, or to live very much as other men do?’

He sighed, as though tired of arguing with her. ‘You do not understand.’

‘But I am trying to,’ she said, ‘which is more than your family taught you to do. When faced with the same challenge, your father and grandfather gave up. And they taught you to do the same.’ She held his arm again, wrapping her fingers tightly around the crook of his elbow. ‘But you are not like them. You are so much more than they were. And you will not know, until you have tried for yourself, what you are capable of. If you do not see that, then you are crippled with something far worse than blindness. You suffer from a lack of vision.’

Adrian stood still, as unresponsive as a mannequin. For a moment, she hoped that he was thinking about her words. And then he said in a gruff, irritable voice, ‘Are you quite finished? Or do you have other opinions that you wish to share with me?’

‘That is enough for the morning, I think.’ She let out her held breath slowly, hoping that he did not notice, but was sure that he had, for he could read her like a book.

‘I quite agree. I think it is time for me to escort you back to the carriage, if you will tell me where it is.’

She was in no mood to help him, fairly sure that he knew perfectly well where to go and was only feigning a need for instruction. ‘The carriage has not moved since we left it. Take us back the way we came.’

There was a miniscule pause as he retraced his steps in his mind. Then he turned and led her back down the path that they had walked, feeling along the grassy edge of it with his stick to help him find the way.

They went along without incident, not speaking. She forced herself to stay relaxed at his side, praying that there would be no familiar faces amongst the few strollers there. She had half hoped, when they stood happily by the roses, that they would see some members of their set and engage them in a brief conversation, to gently reveal her true identity to her husband. But after the fresh start they had made this morning, she had overstepped herself. The distance born between them last night was growing. And if she could not find a way to stop it, she would lose him. She doubted it would be a pleasant experience for anyone should he be hailed by a friend and forced, without warning, to explain his condition.

They were within steps of the carriage, now, and she knew by the relaxing of the muscles in his arm that he knew it as well. While they walked, she had felt him tensing as he listened for clues, alert to any change, but now he had heard the jingle of the harnesses, and the chatter of the driver and grooms, silencing to attention as they drew near. He’d released her arm, putting a protective hand upon her back as she moved to step up and into it, when a call came from behind him.

‘Alms!’

Adrian froze for a moment, as though the single word had the power to control him. Then he turned back, his head tracking to find the source.

‘Alms for a blind beggar! Alms!’ There was a woman beside the entrance to the park, probably hoping to catch some member of the ton on their way in or out. She stared towards them with eyes clouded milk-white, with no idea who she accosted, other than that they had sufficient funds to afford a carriage and should be able to spare a few pennies for her. When she shook the cup in her hand, it gave off the pathetic rattle of an unsuccessful morning.

Emily could feel the fingers on her back sliding away, as her husband turned, forgetting why he touched her. And she turned with him, taking her foot off the step and waving the groom away. She caught at Adrian, her fingers tightening on his arm, and he reached up with his other hand to grip them. It was not the gentle and reassuring touch she had grown accustomed to, but a rigid, claw-like reflex.

She tugged at his arm, trying to get him to move. ‘Come, Adrian. We can go back to the carriage, if you like.’

Then his grip began to relax again, and he led her towards the woman, and not away. ‘Tell me what you see. Spare no detail.’

‘She is an old woman,’ Emily said. ‘Her clothes are clean and in good repair, but they are simple. There are worn patches at the elbows, and the lace at the throat will not see many more washings. Her eyes were blue, but are obscured by pearls. Cataracts, I think they are sometimes called. I doubt she has been blind her whole life.’

As she spoke, the woman before them stood mute, accepting the scrutiny as though she had given up being anything more than an object of pity. And then her hand tightened on her cup and she gave it another little shake.

‘Is this an accurate description?’ he said. When he got no response, he fumbled to touch the beggar on the arm.

The woman started and shook his hand away, unsure of the reason for contact and frightened by it.

‘I need to ask, because I am blind as well,’ he said, in a soft and reassuring voice.

‘Yes, sir.’ The old woman gave a relieved smile.

‘My lord,’ Adrian corrected absently, reaching in his pocket for his purse. ‘I am the Earl of Folbroke.’

The woman dropped into a curtsy.

And feeling the movement in her arm, he dipped his head in response to the gesture of respect. ‘What brings you to this, old mother? Do you have no one to care for you?’

‘My husband is dead,’ she said. Her accent was not refined, but neither was it coarse. ‘And my son is gone off to war. For a time, he sent money. But it has been long since I’ve heard anything. And I fear …’ She stopped, as though she did not wish to think of what news was likely to come.

‘It might mean nothing,’ he assured her. ‘I served as well. It is not always easy to get word home. But perhaps I can discover something. Today, I am busy. But tomorrow, you will come to my rooms in Jermyn Street. I will tell the servants to look out for you. And I will take your information and see if anything can be done with it.’

‘Thank you, my lord.’ The woman was near to breathless with shock, already. But when she heard him drop a coin into the cup, it was clear that she could tell the difference between gold and copper by the sound. Her surprised mouth closed, and widened in a smile. ‘Thank you, my lord,’ she said with more emphasis.

‘Until tomorrow,’ he said, and turned away from her, signalling the coachman for assistance with a whistle and a tap of his cane.

They rode in silence toward his rooms, until she could stand it no longer. ‘That was a wonderful thing you did for her.’

‘Soldiers have enough to worry about on the battlefield, without coming home to find that their mothers are begging in the streets,’ he said, as though that was the only thing that concerned him. And then, as an afterthought, added, ‘What I did was not enough. If there is a way to find honest employment for her, it will be done.’

There was a lump rising in her throat as they pulled to a stop before the building that housed his rooms. And as he rose to exit, she touched his arm to make him pause.

He turned his head, waiting for some word from her.

‘I know you do not want to hear it. But I cannot help but speak,’ she said. ‘I love you, Adrian Longesley.’

He swallowed. Then he said, ‘Thank you.’ And then he left her, tapping his way to the steps of his door.