Читать книгу His Makeshift Wife - Anne Ashley - Страница 8

‘You may kiss the bride,’ the vicar had invited, his benign, lined face beaming with delight, Briony all too vividly recalled. And for one heart-stopping moment she had thought Luke had meant to exert his rights as a husband and do precisely that! But, no, he had kept his word and, after staring fixedly at the curve of her mouth for endless moments, had merely raised her left hand in order to press his lips lightly against the plain gold band he had slipped on her finger a short time before. But would he continue to keep to his part of the bargain now the knot was tied? That was the all-important question.

Raising her head slightly, she peered through her long lashes down the length of the table at her sole dinner companion. For perhaps the hundredth time since the ceremony had taken place earlier in the day, the thought that she must surely have been utterly insane to have gone through with it once again filtered through her mind. What did she know of Luke Kingsley, after all? Next to nothing, if one disregarded the gossipmongers’ tittle-tattle. Even though he had visited the Manor several times during the past month, she knew little more about him now than she had when he had paid that first unexpected call, after his very long absence.

Yes, he continued to remain an enigma. No, more, she decided, a dichotomy. She had seriously begun to suspect there might be two distinct and quite opposite personalities locked inside that well-muscled frame of his.

Whenever he was in company he resembled nothing so much as the light-minded profligate the gossips had painted him since his return from the Peninsula. Yet, on other occasions, when they had chanced to be alone, she had thought she had detected a look in those attractive grey eyes of his that had betrayed innate wisdom, an expression flickering over those distinctly aristocratic features that had strongly suggested the shallow care-for-nobody attitude might well be assumed. But if so, why on earth should he wish the world to think so poorly of him? There must be some reason behind the feigned triviality, surely? Or was he merely putting on an act for his own amusement?

‘Something appears to be troubling you, m’dear? I sincerely trust you are not regretting so soon the vows you made? That would be unfortunate indeed.’

So, the drawl, too, had returned, had it? That most certainly was assumed for her benefit, and the benefit of others, of course, Briony decided, favouring him with her full attention. ‘And I sincerely trust you do not give me cause to regret having uttered them,’ she parried, never having been afraid to speak her mind, at least where he was concerned. Which was most strange, now that she came to consider the matter.

She could hardly admit to their having become friends during the past month. Perhaps the most she could own to was that, over certain matters, they were well on the way to achieving a better understanding and drawing up boundaries beyond which the other was prepared not to tread. For instance, he had made it perfectly plain that he had no intention of completely changing his lifestyle, merely because he had been prepared to relinquish his bachelor state; he had every intention of making visits to the capital during the next six months. For her part Briony didn’t object to this in the least. Not only would it offer her the golden opportunity to come and go as she pleased, without having to respect another’s wishes, but it would no doubt make him easier to live with if he was able to visit his present mistress whenever the inclination happened to take him.

In fact, he had travelled to London on one occasion already during the past month. Although she wouldn’t have gone so far as to say she had been glad to see the back of him, it certainly hadn’t aroused the least resentment or jealousy in her breast to see him go. Whether he had taken the opportunity to visit his mistress or not she had no way of knowing, but he most definitely hadn’t been idle during his time away. He had arranged for several of his personal belongings to be brought down to Dorsetshire and had installed two of his own servants at the Manor.

‘No, nothing is troubling me,’ she assured him cordially, determined to do her part to keep their relationship as affable as possible, ‘except, perhaps, trifling domestic concerns. I trust you’ll find the master bedchamber to your liking. I hope you approve the colour scheme.’

‘I’m sure I shall. And so long as my own bed has been installed in there I’m certain I’ll be comfortable.’

‘It arrived earlier in the week,’ she was able to assure him, ‘and has been made up with fresh linen and merely awaits its master.’

All at once there was a hint of an unnerving sparkle in those grey eyes of his. ‘All this talk of bed, madam wife, might give me every reason to suppose you’re eager to get me in there.’

Now, how was she supposed to react to that piece of deliberate provocation? Briony wondered, deciding to nip such foolishness on his part in the bud. ‘What time you choose to retire, sir, is entirely your own concern.’ She rose to her feet. ‘But I have eaten my fill and so shall bid you good evening and leave you to your port.’

‘There’s no need for you to scurry away like a frightened rabbit.’ Although the drawl had disappeared completely, his eyes retained a glimmer of something, possibly a challenge this time. ‘It isn’t late and we must both accustom ourselves to being in each other’s company for at least part of most days. Besides which, I cannot imagine you’ve found the day such an ordeal that you must retire so early. Considering everything had to be arranged in such a short space of time, I thought things went rather well.’

While speaking, he had risen to his feet and had come slowly down the length of the table towards her, bringing the port decanter with him. He was undeniably continuing to be deliberately provocative. Yet, behind the gentle goading, she sensed there was a genuine desire for her to remain. She hovered for a moment, undecided, then, against her better judgement, resumed her seat, curiosity having got the better of her.

‘No, I haven’t found the day an ordeal in the least, sir.’ She shrugged, attempting to appear more at ease than she in fact was, now that he had positioned a chair so close to her own that she could almost detect the warmth his body exuded. She watched the strong yet shapely hand tilt the decanter and fill a glass. ‘As—as weddings go, I suppose it did go rather well, even though it was perhaps unusually private,’ she added tentatively, feeling a little more comment was expected of her.

He regarded her in silence for a moment. ‘Since the marriage was, to all intents and purposes, forced upon us, it would have been somewhat hypocritical to have had a grand affair to celebrate the union, attended by all our relations and friends,’ he pointed out. ‘Those who needed to be there to witness the event were present—Mr Pettigrew and … your Janet.’

Was that a note of disapproval in his voice? ‘My Janet?’ she echoed.

‘She’s quite evidently become devoted to you.’

Briony saw no reason to deny it. ‘Yes, I suppose we have become very close over the years. You don’t object, surely?’

‘No, not at all …’ his regard all at once became more intense ‘… providing, of course, your obvious affection for the housekeeper doesn’t induce you to confide in her more than is wise. The result might be unfortunate for you if you do.’

Very much resenting the evident threat, she made no attempt to disguise the fact. ‘I have confided in no one, sir. You above anyone should realise how far I’ve been prepared to go to make this farcical union of ours appear real. Was it not I who suggested you should occupy your late aunt’s bedchamber so that we might be as close as possible in order to allay any suspicions with the household staff, which might ultimately result in gossip spreading throughout the locale? I assure you your mistrust is quite without foundation. I have every intention of keeping to my part of the bargain, providing you keep to yours.’

‘Come down off the boughs, girl!’ he ordered gently. ‘Here, drink this,’ he continued in the same mildly authoritative way, after filling another glass and steering it across the table towards her. ‘It might help calm you. We must at least attempt to appear perfectly at ease with each other, even if we are not. And six months is a very long time to maintain the pretence.’

She couldn’t argue with that and meekly took the glass of port he had offered, which obviously pleased him, for his smile was clearly one of approval.

Undoubtedly, he was going out of his way to be amiable in an attempt to maintain cordial relations between them. Yet, she wasn’t so foolish as to suppose there mightn’t be a darker side to his nature, which might so easily surface if she was to prove an annoyance. At the moment, though, he seemed intent on remaining in an affable mood, so she decided to take advantage of the fact by attempting to discover what had really induced him to relinquish his bachelor state, if only for six months. After all, everything was for her benefit. She couldn’t for the life of her see where he profited at all!

The instant the question had been voiced, he lowered his eyes and appeared to consider what remained of the rich liquid in his glass. ‘There were several reasons, m’dear, for taking such a drastic step.’

The response was hardly destined to satisfy her, and it didn’t, of course. Furthermore, she wasn’t overly impressed, either, by the quick return of that infuriating drawl he continued to affect whenever the mood happened to take him. She was instantly on her guard, all at once intensely suspicious of his motives.

‘Come, sir, let us have a degree of honesty between us at the outset, otherwise relations between us are likely to become strained indeed, if we become mistrustful of each other,’ she suggested, refusing to admit defeat so easily. ‘I made no secret of the fact why I agreed to marry you. My motives were purely mercenary. Marriage offered me financial security, which I would never have attained without it.’

‘True, but I strongly suspect you would never have married for money alone, otherwise you would have done so long before now.’ There was a suspicion of a challenge in the look he cast her, almost daring her to deny it. ‘I clearly recall Aunt Lavinia being quite vexed because you flatly refused to accompany her to London for a Season. Hardly the actions of an avaricious miss, now were they, m’dear?’

Resentful though she was, she was obliged to accept that he knew a deal more about her than she did about him. She couldn’t help wondering what else Lady Ashworth had revealed in recent years and was doubly determined to discover the reason for his wishing to marry.

‘What a persistent little madam you are to be sure, Briony!’ he scolded, after she had reminded him that he hadn’t satisfied her curiosity. ‘Still, my aunt did warn me that there was a stubbornly determined streak in your nature. And Aunt Lavinia—bless her!—was a rare, truthful woman.’

He grinned at the look of exasperation he received. ‘Oh, very well, though I’m obliged to own it doesn’t redound to my credit.’

Once again he appeared to find the contents of his glass of immense interest. ‘You may or may not have heard that I’ve been playing rather deep of late. I wouldn’t go so far as to say I’m even remotely close to ruining myself, but my recent losses have been steadily mounting and, more significantly, have come to the ears of my uncle. Lord Kingsley is a most abstemious fellow, almost to the point of meanness, some might say. All the same, since his son died, and I became his heir, Uncle Augustus has made me a generous quarterly allowance. Furthermore, you’d need to go a long way to find an ancestral pile maintained to such a high standard as Kingsley Hall. It is little wonder that he would be concerned over its future well-being. By marrying and settling down in the country for a spell I hope to put the old man’s mind at rest as to my worthiness to step into his shoes.’

Briony wasn’t at all sure she liked the explanation she was being offered. Or believed it, either, come to that! ‘But won’t he think quite the opposite—that you’re utterly fickle, when the marriage is annulled?’

He shrugged, appearing completely indifferent to the prospect. ‘Oh, I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it. He hasn’t been at all well of late. That’s why he didn’t attend Aunt Lavinia’s funeral.’

Yes, at least Lord Kingsley had some excuse for not attending. Which is more than can be said for you! Briony longed to retort, but managed to check the stricture long before it reached her lips.

‘In fact, he hasn’t enjoyed good health for some time, not since the death of his only son,’ he continued, quite oblivious to the fact that he had plummeted in her estimation. ‘Sadly, I don’t believe he’s long for this world. Which I cannot imagine troubles him overmuch. He’s never been the same since Giles’s death.’

This did succeed in diverting her thoughts. ‘Yes, very tragic. I only ever met your uncle on one occasion, many years ago, when your aunt took me on a visit to Kent. Giles, like yourself, was at Oxford, so I never met him. His death was due to a riding accident, was it not?’

He nodded. ‘Yes, poor fellow,’ he said softly, and there could be no mistaking the sincerity in the deep voice. ‘It could have happened to anyone, I suppose, but he was the very last person I would have expected to meet his maker that way. He was a fine horseman, one of the best I’ve ever come across.’

‘You were evidently very fond of him,’ she remarked, never having considered the relationship between the two cousins before.

‘When a boy, I spent very nearly as much time at Kingsley Hall as I did here at the Manor. Giles and I were much of an age, attended the same school and, as you rightly mentioned, were up at Oxford together. We were more like brothers than cousins,’ he revealed, before he raised his eyes to discover a pair the same shade as cornflowers regarding him keenly.

His response was to grasp the decanter again, smiling crookedly. ‘But, I digress. What you really wish to know is just why I was willing to marry you. And to be brutally frank, m’dear, it was for the simple reason the Manor offered me the perfect retreat, the ideal sanctuary. You see, there is a certain lady of my acquaintance that I’m finding increasingly—er—wearisome.’

The contemptuous curl that instantly appeared at one side of a very shapely feminine mouth revealed clearly enough that snippets of gossip appearing in newspapers had most assuredly been perused under the Manor’s roof in recent months.

He gazed resolutely down into his glass again, doing his utmost to suppress a twitching smile. ‘As I had no desire to be called to account by the understandably aggrieved spouse, thereby causing a major scandal, I decided it might be wise to abandon the metropolis before I was summoned to pistols at dawn, so to speak.’

‘Such an edifying tale!’ she muttered, quite unequal to keeping the derision oozing from each word. She hurriedly got to her feet, deciding it might be wise to leave before she allowed the contempt she felt induce her to say more than was wise.

He made no attempt to stop her this time, and succeeded in bidding her a pleasant goodnight before she had whisked herself quite speedily from the room. The instant the door had been closed quietly behind her, the faintly inane look he had adopted during the past few minutes vanished completely, and the earnest expression of a gentleman contemplating some ticklish problems took possession of his features.

After arriving at the bedchamber that had been her private retreat for so many very contented years, Briony discovered not the young maid Alice awaiting her, as expected, and didn’t attempt to hide her surprise at finding Janet tidying away some freshly laundered garments.

‘What on earth are you doing here? I imagined you would have been putting your feet up, after taking all the trouble to prepare that delicious dinner this evening. No doubt you’ll be pleased to hear your new lord and master thought the meal couldn’t have been bettered,’ she added, seating herself before her dressing-table mirror in order to begin removing the pins from her hair.

‘That was very good of Master Luke to say so,’ Janet responded, appearing well pleased with the compliment on her culinary skills, ‘although no more than I would have expected from such a thoughtful gentleman. But even so …’ She shot a considering look at her young mistress through the mirror, as she lent a helping hand to take down the long chestnut tresses. ‘I—I thought you’d mayhap be grateful for a word or two of comfort from an older woman … this being your wedding night and all, and you not having had a mother to guide you, so to speak.’

It took Briony a moment only to appreciate to what her dear Janet was alluding. It was perfectly true that she had no very real idea of what took place in the marriage bed, her godmother having only ever touched briefly on the subject by divulging that young brides had nothing whatsoever to fear, providing they had married considerate gentlemen.

She wasn’t so naïve as to suppose all females found the married state entirely to their liking. There were several young matrons in the locale, and not all appeared well pleased with their lot. But what did that matter to her? Her union was one of convenience only, therefore she had nothing to be concerned about.

‘Don’t trouble yourself on my account, Janet. I assure you I’m not in the least uneasy.’

‘Well, of course you’re not!’ Janet agreed, smiling reassuringly. ‘As I’ve mentioned before, Master Luke’s such a kind, considerate soul, one of life’s real gentlemen.’

And it’s in his own best interests to act like one if he desires the marriage to be annulled! Briony mused, attaining more reassurance out of this knowledge than any words of comfort the housekeeper might offer an innocent young bride.

‘And the way he looked at you in church!’ Janet continued, oblivious to her young mistress’s highly contrasting thoughts. ‘Fair touched my heart to see how much he cares for you!’

Briony scarcely knew what to say to this. She could hardly dismiss it as arrant nonsense, thereby arousing the housekeeper’s suspicions. Furthermore, Janet wasn’t fanciful as a rule. Evidently she’d seen something to make her suppose that Luke cared for his new bride. Clearly he was doing his utmost to appear the doting spouse. And she must at least attempt to do likewise!

‘I must own to having come to a—er—better understanding with Mr Kingsley soon after his arrival in Dorset.’

‘That goes without saying, mistress, otherwise you wouldn’t have wedded. And I’m so pleased you didn’t allow your head to rule your heart for very long. It’s plain to see you and Master Luke are made for each other.’

Oh, God! Briony inwardly groaned. Maintaining the pretence of a perfect union might well turn out to be far harder than she had ever imagined. How on earth was she going to pretend to be a blissfully contented married woman for a whole six months?

Striving not to dwell on the ticklish problem, she occupied herself with getting ready for bed. Not attempting to make conversation, and her rather business-like approach to changing into a freshly laundered nightgown didn’t appear to arouse the least suspicion in the housekeeper’s breast. It was only when Briony collected the book she had begun to read a day or so earlier, before settling herself in the bed, that the housekeeper’s greying brows shot up in surprise.

‘Why, Miss Briony!’ Dismay had clearly caused Janet momentarily to forget her young mistress’s new status. ‘You’re never thinking of reading … not on your wedding night?’

Briony was nonplussed for a moment. ‘Why ever shouldn’t I?’

Janet spread her arms in a helpless gesture. ‘Well … because I swear I heard the master’s footsteps along the passageway a few minutes ago.’

‘In that case you’d best not tarry,’ Briony advised.

Which had clearly been the right thing to say, for an expression of approval replaced the look of bewilderment on the housekeeper’s face, a moment before she whisked herself out of the room.

Briony released her breath in a long sigh of relief, as she made herself comfortable against the mound of lacy pillows. At last she could relax with her book and forget about all the subterfuge, at least until morning.

No sooner had the comforting thought filtered through her mind than she detected the click of the door leading to the master bedroom and discovered none other than the tall figure of her husband filling the aperture.

More intrigued than unnerved, she found herself studying his attire, or lack of it, for beneath the crimson-brocade dressing gown she strongly suspected he was wearing absolutely nothing at all. Dark curling hairs clearly showed between ornately embroidered lapels, and there was a suspicion of the same dark covering caressing the ankles of unshod feet.

‘Is there something amiss? I was informed all your belongings had been placed in your room,’ she remarked as he slowly approached the bed, all at once seeming far taller and broader in his casual attire. His face seemed different, too—younger somehow, with several locks of waving brown hair tumbling over his forehead—and there was a definite intense, almost hungry look in those grey eyes that never for a second wavered from her direction.

‘Have you misplaced something, perhaps?’ she added, all at once feeling decidedly ill at ease when he seated himself, uninvited, on the edge of the bed and placed one bronzed hand so close to her that his thumb rested against her thigh.

‘Only my bride,’ he returned silkily, sending her unease soaring in an instant.

Her response was to draw up her knees and tug the bedcovers up to her chin, clutching them frantically. ‘You—you f-forget yourself, sir!’ Even to her own ears her voice sounded little more than a choked whisper. ‘Or have you forgotten the bargain you made?’

‘I forget nothing. But for appearances’ sake I felt I must at least—er—pay you a visit,’ he responded, his voice growing increasingly guttural. ‘So whilst I’m here I might as well avail myself of the opportunity to discover if, perchance, you’ve changed your mind and natural maidenly modesty forbids you to reveal that you desire to become a wife in … every sense?’

The response to this was a violent shake of the head, which sent silky chestnut tresses whipping across wide, frightened eyes, and induced slender tapering fingers to clutch more frantically at white linen, as though her very life depended upon it.

Luke wrested the bed sheet from her grasp as easily as if he were depriving a child of its toy and smiled softly. ‘There’s no need to look so terrified, Briony,’ he assured her, reaching out to trace the soft line of her jaw with surprisingly gentle fingers. ‘I’ve never yet forced myself on an unwilling female and I have no intention of doing so now. The marriage will be as you wish … mere pretence.’

Letting his hand fall, Luke rose from the bed. ‘I shall never again enter this room unless bidden to do so. You have my word on that. Goodnight, my dear.’

Briony couldn’t have responded even had she wished to do so. A painful obstruction had unexpectedly lodged itself in her throat, making speech impossible, and her pulse was racing, though no longer through fear. That portion of her face that had been touched by, oh, so gentle fingers continued to tingle strangely, and the unerring feeling that she had just rejected something very precious entered her mind and remained there to torment her long after she had watched the light disappear from beneath the communicating door.

By morning she was once again feeling more herself. Her resolve had reasserted itself and restored her determination to play her part in the mock union in order to secure what promised to be a very comfortable future existence, once the farcical marriage had been annulled.

She woke much later than usual, a circumstance that certainly didn’t seem in any way extraordinary to Janet, who brought in a breakfast tray and cast her young mistress a long, considering look. The smile she received in response appeared to please her because she went about the room humming a ditty as she twitched back curtains to her satisfaction and rearranged several items on the dressing table.

‘I trust you slept well, mistress?’

‘Eventually … yes.’

The housekeeper’s smile widened at this response. ‘Master Luke’s up and about already,’ she revealed. ‘I expect he wants to familiarise himself with all the old property again. People tend to forget that, apart from the large garden, the Manor has quite a bit of land attached to it. Besides which, two of his other people arrived earlier this morning, bringing a whole string of horses with them, not to mention a couple of carriages. The stables must be fair full, I shouldn’t wonder.’

This succeeded in capturing Briony’s interest. She’d always enjoyed riding herself and was curious to see what kind of horses Luke now kept in his stables. Whether she liked him or not—and the jury was still very much out on that particular issue—honesty obliged her to own that he had been a fine judge of horseflesh even in his youth, and she doubted that would have changed. ‘I’ll wander over to the stables presently myself.’

‘Well, you take your time, Miss Briony … Oh, there I goes again! Can’t get used to calling you madam.’

‘Don’t concern yourself, Janet. I don’t object.’

‘You might not. But I dare swear the master would. He’s already taking an interest in your well being, bless him! Said as how you weren’t to be disturbed too early and that you’d be taking breakfast in bed.’

Briony wasn’t altogether sure she cared to have another making decisions for her. She wasn’t accustomed to breaking her fast in bed; although she didn’t object to doing so this morning, she had no intention of making a habit of it just to please the new master of the house. So the sooner she made that perfectly plain the better!

After the wonderful dinner she had consumed the night before, she wasn’t feeling particularly hungry and was soon setting the tray aside and turning her attention to getting herself ready for the day ahead. She had finished dressing and was on the point of seating herself before the dressing table in order to do up her hair in a simple chignon, when she noticed the housekeeper staring fixedly down at the crumpled mound of bedcovers.

‘Something amiss, Janet?’

The housekeeper turned to look at her young mistress, her expression clearly troubled. ‘I trust not, Miss Briony … I sincerely trust not.’