Читать книгу A Regency Lord's Command: The Disappearing Duchess / The Mysterious Lord Marlowe - Anne Herries, Anne Herries - Страница 9

Lucinda hesitated in the shrubbery. She could see Jane Lanchester working in her beloved garden. Kneeling on a cushion, Jane was planting a seedling, which would flower later in the year, and intent on her work. It was foolish to be nervous. Taking a deep breath, Lucinda lifted her head and walked towards her friend.

‘Jane. Forgive me. I had to see you.’

Jane’s head came up in surprise. For a moment she stared at her and then jumped to her feet and ran the short distance between them, her arms open in welcome.

‘Lucinda! I have been in such torment, wondering if you were captive or dead. You naughty girl. Why did you not write to anyone?’

‘It was difficult.’ Lucinda looked at her awkwardly. ‘Do you hate me for what I did?’

‘Why should I?’ Jane removed the gloves she wore for gardening. ‘Come in and have some tea and tell me what has been happening. I am perfectly sure you had a good reason for what you did, as I told Avonlea. Does he know you are back?’ Lucinda shook her head. ‘He has been in great distress, you know. He couldn’t understand your disappearance and thought you might have been abducted.’

‘Surely not? I left a note promising to explain when I returned. It was on top of my jewel case.’

‘I do not know what happened, but it was not found,’ Jane told her. ‘I think the poor man thought you were afraid of him—you weren’t, I hope? I have wondered if I was wrong to advise you to marry him.’

‘I love Justin very much.’ A little sob left Lucinda’s lips. ‘I feel so awful for what I did that day, but I was in such a state I could not think. Afterwards, I wished I had waited and asked Avonlea’s advice, but at the time all I could think about was—’ She broke off, shaking her head.

‘Come in and tell me all about it,’ Jane said and then frowned as she saw a man striding towards them. ‘Here is my brother. Do you remember Andrew? I think you met him once when he was in the army.’

‘Perhaps I should go…the scandal…’ Lucinda hesitated, but Jane grabbed her arm. ‘Your brother might not wish you to know me after what I did.’

‘Nonsense. You will not run away now, Lucinda. You must at least talk to Avonlea. It is the right and proper thing to do.’

‘Yes, I shall.’

Lucinda swallowed hard. Lord Lanchester was a tall, strong man with dark hair and eyes and at that moment he looked stern.

‘Duchess,’ he said without a hint of surprise in his voice, ‘I told Avonlea that you would return. I hope you have been to see him to explain?’

‘Lucinda wanted to talk to me first,’ Jane said. ‘I am about to send for tea. You may go away for half an hour, if you please, while we talk in private.’

‘Please, it is not necessary,’ Lucinda said. ‘I shall tell you both that I left in such a hurry because I was being blackmailed. I know that I should have spoken to Avonlea and asked his advice, but I thought he might be angry—and if I am to be disgraced, he will be better off without me. It should be easy enough to annul the marriage.’

‘Blackmail?’ He frowned. ‘Do you have the letter?’

‘No…’ Lucinda swallowed hard, because she did not wish to lie, but the blackmail note held too much information—information she did not wish to share with Jane’s brother. Had he not arrived, she might have told Jane that she had stolen her daughter back, but it was too difficult to tell this stern stranger. ‘I think I shall not stay for refreshments, Jane. Do you know if Avonlea is at home, sir?’

‘I have come from him this moment. Do you know we have agents out looking for you, young lady? Your husband has been scouring the countryside for you, searching everywhere himself, day after day and even at night. He is at his wit’s end.’

Lucinda’s eyes filled with tears and she gave a little sob. ‘He will be so angry with me. I should have written to him. He will not wish to see me.’

‘You’ve upset her,’ Jane said and put an arm about her shoulders. ‘Andrew, you are a bully and I am quite cross with you.’

‘Forgive me.’ Andrew was suddenly contrite. ‘I dare say you had your reasons, Duchess. I think you may find that Avonlea is more concerned than angry.’

‘I do not think I can face him…’

‘Of course you can.’ Andrew produced a large white kerchief and handed it to her. ‘If you will permit me, I shall take you to him and I will protect you. If he is angry, I shall bring you back to Jane—there, will that make it easier for you?’

‘Yes, you must certainly return to us if Avonlea is unkind, but I do not think that the case. He cares for you dearly, Lucinda, and I know he is waiting anxiously for news,’ said Jane and her brother took up the persuasion.

‘He asked me to call because he had just found your letter. It had fallen down behind the dressing table and become lodged there. Avonlea discovered it by chance just yesterday and sent word to me because I’d been helping in the search for you.’

‘Where did you go?’ Jane asked, as Lucinda hesitated. ‘I know Avonlea sent a messenger to your mama, but she said she had not seen you.’

‘It took me a long time to reach her home…’ Lucinda faltered. ‘I walked much of the way. I dare say Avonlea’s messenger reached her before I did.’

‘Why did she not write later?’ Jane looked puzzled.

‘Mama was upset with me. We parted in anger.’

‘So you have not been staying with her all this time?’

Lucinda shook her head. ‘Only for a few days. It is a long story, Jane. Perhaps another time. I think I should go to Avonlea now. I owe my husband an explanation.’

‘Promise me you will come to me if you need help?’ Jane said and reached for her hand. ‘I am your friend and remain so always. If you are in difficulty, I shall do my best to help you.’

‘I could bring shame on you,’ Lucinda said. ‘If you knew all…’ She saw the question in her friend’s eyes. ‘No, at least not for the moment, Jane. I must speak with Avonlea first. I should have gone there immediately.’

She had wanted reassurance from her friend, but it was impossible to tell Jane her secret with Lord Lanchester standing there waiting for her.

‘There is no need for you to accompany me, sir,’ she said to him. ‘I can quite well walk to the estate from here.’

‘You will do no such thing. I shall drive you in my chaise. Jane, I shall come back immediately. Please have your refreshments and then we’ll talk. I have to leave for London after nuncheon.’

‘You will visit me soon, Lucinda?’

‘Yes.’ Lucinda gave her a wan smile. ‘I shall come soon—perhaps sooner than you think.’

Jane squeezed her arm. ‘Chin up, my dear friend. I am sure Avonlea will be kinder than you imagine.’

Following Lord Lanchester to the stables, Lucinda thought that it was all very well for Jane to say that Avonlea cared for her, but she did not yet know the whole story.

Her husband might forgive her reckless flight. He might even forgive her for not telling him that she had borne a child, but she was certain that he would not allow her to keep her newly discovered daughter. If it became known that she had an illegitimate child, people would gossip. Many would cut her and her shame would reflect on Avonlea and on her friends.

Jane had offered her a place to stay, but she would not wish to take in Lucinda’s daughter. Even if she were willing to accept the child, her brother would forbid her. Jane was the kindest and wisest friend anyone could have. When they were at school together, she had confided to Lucinda that she did not want to marry.

‘I dare say I shall be an old maid and help care for my brother’s children when he marries,’ she’d said and laughed. ‘Or I may go and live in Harrogate and hold lots of card parties and poetry readings.’

Jane might dare to know her despite her brother’s censure for she was possessed of her own fortune, but Lucinda would not wish to disoblige her. She had already made up her mind that she must make her own living and the impulse to visit Jane had come from a moment of weakness.

‘I wish you will forgive me if I was harsh to you,’ Lord Lanchester said as he handed her into the chaise a few minutes later. ‘I do not know your story or why you were being blackmailed, though I think Jane does—but if you are in trouble and wish to confide in me I will help you if I can.’

‘You are kind, sir. I do not think anyone can help me, for it would bring shame on your family if this became open knowledge.’

He smiled at her. ‘I scarcely think you have done anything so very terrible, Duchess. It may be that a problem shared would be halved, as they say.’

‘I thank you for your kindness, but I do not wish to trouble you, sir.’

Lucinda sat primly in the chaise, hands curled in her lap as she was driven through the narrow leafy lanes of Sussex that led to Avonlea’s estate. As they crossed onto the duke’s land, her heart began to race. She knew that some of his people had seen her and saw their heads turn as they watched the chaise drive by. She felt hot all over, knowing that she had already caused so much trouble and scandal. If her secret were known, it would be terrible for everyone she cared about.

‘Believe me, nothing you could do or say would be a trouble to me, Duchess.’

‘Please…call me Lucinda,’ she whispered, her cheeks hot. ‘I think Avonlea may wish to annul the marriage very soon and I shall be Miss Seymour again.’

‘I doubt he would be such a fool,’ Lord Lanchester said and smiled at her. ‘If I am to call you Lucinda, then you must call me Andrew, as my sister and close friends do.’

Lucinda blushed and gave a little shake of her head. ‘You are so kind, sir, but I assure you, I do not deserve such consideration.’

He was bringing his horses to a halt and did not immediately reply, but as he assisted her down, his smile was warm.

‘I wish to be your friend, Lucinda. Jane loves you dearly and she is not normally wrong in her choice of friends. When you are ready to talk I shall be there for you. I am certain Avonlea will not turn you away, but if he did I would open my doors to you.’

Lucinda thanked him shyly. ‘I think I shall go in al—’ She could not finish the sentence for her husband was coming towards them. Her heart caught with pain as she saw the distress in his face and realised that he had been under a great strain. There were dark shadows beneath his eyes and she thought he had lost weight. Had she done that to him? Her heart caught with remorse. She turned to meet him. ‘Avonlea, forgive me…’

‘Lucinda, my dearest. You are safe. Thank God! I thought you lost or dead.’ Avonlea turned to Lord Lanchester. ‘You found her and brought her back to me. How can I ever thank you, my best of friend?’

‘You owe me no thanks, sir. Your duchess visited my sister and I brought her to you. She was a little anxious, but I assured her you would not scold her too much. I believe she has something important to tell you.’

‘Of course I shall not be unkind,’ Justin said and looked at Lucinda. ‘Come inside, my love. You look tired and pale. I would hear what you have to say. Lanchester, you have my thanks. I shall speak to you later.’

‘When it suits you,’ Andrew replied with a slight smile. ‘My heartfelt thanks for your safe return, Duchess. Your friends are glad of it. Please call on Jane whenever you wish.’

‘You are very kind, sir.’

Lucinda could not look at him or her husband. She walked towards the house, Justin at her side. Several servants had gathered in the hall and were looking at her curiously. The housekeeper bobbed a curtsy and asked if she could do anything.

‘You may bring some tea when we ring,’ Justin said. ‘My wife has had a long journey and she is tired. We shall have nuncheon in an hour.’

Lucinda allowed him to make the arrangements. She was thirsty and hungry, and she knew that someone she trusted was caring for her daughter. Angela would be safe until she could return to her.

‘Mama will be gone for a while,’ she’d told Angela and kissed her before she left. ‘I have to find somewhere nice for us to live, but then I shall come and fetch you.’

‘You won’t leave me?’ Angela had clung to her. ‘You won’t let them take me back?’

‘Never,’ Lucinda vowed and held her tight. ‘Mama loves you and she wants to look after you, but she cannot be with you all the time. She has to work and earn money to buy our food.’

Inside the small parlour at the back of the house, Justin shut the door firmly and then turned to look at her. His hands worked at his sides and she thought that she had never seen him display such emotion. Always when he courted her he had been the polite gentleman, teasing, flirting gently, courteous and considerate. If he had a temper, she’d not seen or felt it; even his kiss when she’d at last accepted his offer had been sweet, but passionless—which was perhaps why she had dared to say yes. Avonlea had seemed kind, but capable of expressing only warm affection; this stranger with his tight mouth and tortured eyes was someone she did not recognise.

‘What was so terrible that you could not tell me, Lucinda? I took a vow to become your husband. Whatever trouble you were in I would have helped you.’

‘Yes, I know,’ she said and gave him a little smile. ‘Afterwards, I wished I’d had the courage to tell you. I panicked, Justin. Please let me explain if I may. When I returned to my rooms after the church I discovered a letter. It was a blackmail letter and the sender demanded ten thousand pounds. He—or perhaps she—threatened to expose my secret and shame your good name. I ran away rather than allow it to happen. My first thought was for you—because I had wronged you.’

‘A blackmail letter here in your room?’ Justin looked shocked. ‘I have considered all manner of reasons why you should leave, but I must admit that was not high on my list. May I enquire as to the reason for the blackmail?’

Lucinda drew a shuddering breath. ‘I fear you will be angry and hate me.’

‘I could never hate you.’

He had not denied that he might be angry, but she must find the courage to continue. Her words came out in a rush, tumbling over each other.

‘It…happened one Christmas Eve. I was home from school and my father had friends staying. I was asleep when Father’s friend fell on me and, though I woke instantly, I could not fight him off. He had been drinking and the stench of his breath sickened me. I tried to scream, but he covered my mouth with his hand. Beneath his weight I was helpless. He was my father’s best friend, but he…he raped me and then told me that he would ruin Papa if I told anyone what he’d done.’

‘Raped you? My God!’ Justin looked as if someone had punched him hard. He recoiled and seemed stunned, turning away from her and then sitting down heavily in one of the comfortable wing chairs placed in pairs about the salon. ‘Forgive me, this is a shock. It must have been a terrible experience for you, Lucinda.’

Lucinda went to him and knelt on the floor by his side. ‘I think even that was not the worst of it, Justin. I was distressed, but could tell no one—and then, at Easter, my mother discovered that I was with child.’

Justin looked down into her face, concern in his eyes. The thought of her suffering wrenched at his heart. She was so innocent and sweet—how could any man treat her so vilely? Anger raged through him, but for the monster that had violated her. He did not doubt her word for an instant. He reached down and touched her cheek as she gazed earnestly up at him.

‘Your father covered the scandal, of course. Most fathers would do the same. What happened next?’

‘I was sent to live with Grandmama. She was very unkind to me and caned my hands whenever it pleased her. When my child was born I was told it had died…but still my father would not allow me to go home or to enter society. Only after his death was I allowed the visit to Harrogate with my aunt.’

‘Was that why you kept your distance from me at first?’

‘My father told me I was dirty, a thing of shame, and that no decent man would want me. Both he and my mother said I should never marry. I defied her to wed you—and I meant to tell you the truth that night and beg you to forgive me, but then the note arrived and—’

‘You were frightened and ran away.’

Justin stood up. He reached down, drawing her to her feet so that they looked into each other’s eyes.

‘Do you have the letter?’

Lucinda hesitated. She hated to lie to him, but if she told him the whole truth he would want to know if she had found her daughter and he would force her to give her up, because to do anything else would cause a scandal.

‘No…I am sorry, Justin. I destroyed it. I should never have married you. I know you must hate me now. I shall go away and you may have the marriage annulled. All I ask is a small sum of money so that I may live quietly until I can find some respectable work.’

She would not have asked so much if it were not for her child. Until she could find a home of her own and a nursemaid to live in, Lucinda must pay for lodgings and the care of her daughter. Surely he would allow her something?

For a moment he studied her in silence, then, ‘No, I shall not have the marriage annulled,’ Justin said, his tone suddenly harsh and cold. The sound of it sent shivers down her spine and she looked at him, startled by his change of mood. ‘I’ve had enough of gossip and of being laughed at behind my back, Lucinda. You are my wife and you will accept your duties as a wife.’

‘Justin…’ She faltered, her throat tight with emotion. Tears gathered in her eyes, but she held them back. ‘I know how angry you must feel…’

‘Do you, my dear?’ His bitter tone flayed her like a whiplash. ‘Had you trusted me enough to confide in me from the start, none of this need have happened.’

‘Forgive me. I was so anxious.’ Her voice was low, scarcely more than a whisper. ‘I did not think how it would look. Besides, if you had told everyone I had gone to my sick mother, it would not have seemed so bad.’

‘Had I found your letter at the start, I might have done so.’ He turned from her abruptly, walking to the window to gaze out. ‘If you cared for me you might have trusted me, Lucinda. I would have given you a fair hearing. Do you not think it was your duty to tell me before you accepted my proposal?’

‘Yes. I think now that I should have told you. I—I was afraid you would not wish to marry me if you knew that I had such a terrible secret.’

Justin turned to look at her, his face proud, eyebrows raised. ‘You wished to be the Duchess of Avonlea, I suppose?’

‘No…’ Lucinda hesitated, then, in a voice caught with tears, ‘I loved you, Justin. I loved you from the start. I suppose I hoped that if we were married you might forgive me.’

‘You thought I would accept you rather than face the scandal of divorce?’ His top lip curled scornfully. ‘Well, you were right in that, my dear. I have no intention of either annulling the marriage or divorcing you. I hope in time that we may begin again, have a sensible arrangement. I need heirs after all and you are my wife. I dare say we may brush over the scandal now that you have returned. I shall say that you were called to the bedside of a relative and your letter was misplaced—which is in part the truth.’

‘Justin…’ She took a step towards him, her hand outstretched. It fell to her side as she saw the anger in his handsome face. ‘Will you not believe that I care for you? Will you not try to forgive me?’

‘I shall certainly endeavour to forgive you,’ he said, but his eyes were cold, his mouth thinned with anger. ‘But you will forgive me if I do not fall at your feet and tell you that everything is as it was. You will remain my wife and I hope in time we may find a way to be comfortable together—but as for the feelings…the affection I bore you, for the moment I must be honest and tell you that I feel nothing but disappointment.’

‘Please…’ She gave a cry of distress. ‘I beg you not to hate me, Justin. I know that I have hurt you, but I was in some distress myself.’

‘I fail to understand why.’ His eyes held neither compassion nor warmth. ‘You had the advantage of me for you knew your situation. Why the letter should occasion such shock I do not know—unless you meant to conceal the truth from me forever?’

How could she explain? Justin might have understood had she been able to put her feelings into words—but the shock, the numbness, incredulity and fear she’d felt on learning of her child’s existence were too difficult to express.

‘I was asked to pay ten thousand pounds for the writer’s silence.’

‘Had you given the letter to me, I should either have paid or discovered the man’s identity and threatened him with imprisonment.’

‘You would still have hated me.’

‘I do not hate you,’ Justin said, a flicker of regret in his eyes. ‘I feel hurt, betrayed by your lack of trust, Lucinda. Had you confided in me at the beginning, I think I might have learned to accept the fact that you were raped. You were not to blame for that—or for bearing a child—but your deceit, your thoughtlessness in running away and your lack of faith in me, have given me some disquiet. I must say honestly that you are not the woman I thought you.’

His quiet words, his dignity and the hurt in his eyes struck into her heart. She was overcome with guilt, realising just how deeply her thoughtless behaviour had hurt him. Justin was angry with her now. Lucinda was not sure why she had not told him the whole truth. It would have been better to have the whole thing out, but she had hesitated and now it was too late. He would undoubtedly either return the child to the woman who had so mistreated her or have her adopted by a worthy couple.

No, she would not give her daughter up! Although it was only two weeks since she’d rescued her, Lucinda knew that she loved her too much to think of letting her be adopted, even by a kind and gentle woman.

She loved Justin, too, but he no longer cared for her. A part of her wanted to walk away, to tell him that she would not continue with a loveless marriage, but her lips were frozen and she could not speak.

‘You should go to your room and change. That gown is hardly suitable for my duchess,’ Justin said. ‘I am relieved that you are alive and unharmed, Lucinda. It will take a little time for me to come to terms with your revelation, but I hope in time that we may find a kind of contentment together.’

‘Yes, Justin. I am sorry to have caused you so much distress.’

‘I shall tell them to serve luncheon in an hour. Please do not keep us waiting.’

‘I shall not,’ Lucinda replied. Her pride was reasserting itself and with it a kind of anger. He was showing dignity and dealing with the situation in a civilised way, but she would almost rather he’d raged at her. ‘I am truly sorry for hurting you.’

He made no reply, merely inclining his head as she made him a slight curtsy and then left the room.

Lucinda knew that the servants must be agog to know where she’d been, but she carried herself with pride and dignity as she walked up to her own apartments. Alice was there and appeared to be busy tidying the place as she entered. She curtsied, looking slightly flustered.

‘Forgive me, my lady. Your room—his Grace searched it and then forbade me to touch it. I have been trying to make it respectable, but some of your things will need washing and ironing for they lay on the floor for a few days.’

‘You may help me change into a fresh gown, if there are any decent enough to wear?’

‘Yes, my lady. There is a morning gown here that is not creased.’

‘Take your time with the others,’ Lucinda said. ‘I shall not scold you if things are not just as they should be; it is not your fault.’

‘I fear the duke lost his temper, my lady.’

‘Yes, I fear he did and that was my fault. Was he very angry with you, Alice?’

‘For a time,’ the girl admitted. ‘I did not mind so very much, my lady. I am glad to see you returned.’

‘If I were to ask you to help me—to keep my request private—would you do so?’

Alice did not hesitate as she said, ‘Yes, my lady. I would do anything for you.’

‘I am not certain yet,’ Lucinda said and smiled at her. ‘Do not look so anxious, Alice. It is nothing very terrible—but I might need you to take a message for me later.’

‘Yes, my lady. You can trust me. I swear it on my life.’

Lucinda hid a smile. Her maid probably thought she had a lover. If she decided to trust her, she would soon learn the truth, but for the moment she must be cautious.

Lucinda was determined not to give her daughter up. She thought that rather than accept that Angela should be adopted, she would leave Justin and find a way to live independently. However, what little money she had was almost gone and she was not certain how she could earn her living.

No respectable lady would take her either as a governess or as a companion. Even if she did find work in a respectable household, the discovery that she had an illegitimate daughter would lead to instant dismissal without a reference. All that left was work as a seamstress or hard manual labour in a mill or on the land; even work as a servant would be denied her in most respectable houses.

Justin did not wish for more scandal and for that reason he had decided they would stay together and try to find a way to live comfortably. She supposed that when his anger or disappointment had eased a little, he might still find her attractive.

The thought of what she had done was almost unbearable. Justin had looked at her with such admiration and gentle warmth when he courted her, showing such patience and kindness to a shy young woman—and now his eyes were cold and unforgiving. She did not know how to bear his coldness, but the thought of never seeing him again was equally as painful.

She held back the foolish tears. What had she expected? She ought to have known that her husband would not accept her wayward behaviour as if it meant nothing. He’d believed her modest and innocent and must think her a cheat for having hidden her shameful past.

At least she had a roof over her head and the generous allowance Avonlea had given her in the marriage contract would be hers to use as she wished. She could use some of it to pay for Angela to be properly cared for nearby. It was not what she wanted, but what was her alternative? She knew she would find it difficult, if not impossible, to bring up her daughter in the way she wished alone. Perhaps it was best this way—and yet at the back of her mind she feared Justin’s disgust and anger when he discovered her deceit.

She had hurt her husband too much already and she did love him deeply, whatever he might believe. If she left him again, it would convince him that she had never loved him and he would surely divorce her. Perhaps if she stayed he might learn to forgive her—and if he did, one day, she would tell him the rest of her story. It might make him angry again, but perhaps he would understand that the pain of discovering that her child had been stolen from her had made her forget everything else for a time.

Oh, it was all such a coil! Lucinda wished that she could return to the day Avonlea had asked her to wed him. Had she told him then he might have withdrawn his offer, but he might have accepted the truth and forgiven her—yet even had he done so, he would never have accepted her child.

She had no choice but to keep the child’s existence a secret from him.

Justin went for a long hard ride after luncheon. Lucinda had looked so serene and beautiful when she came down to the dining room. He had felt a rush of desire at seeing her in one of the beautiful gowns he had purchased for her use. She was his wife, the woman he had chosen, and her revelations had left him feeling bruised and bewildered.

She was not the shy innocent girl he had thought her. Justin had believed her reticence in Harrogate had sprung from modesty and a natural desire to know him better. Now he wondered if he had been deceived in her character. Could he believe her story of rape? She had not told him before the wedding that she’d born an illegitimate child, nor had she given him any reason to believe that she was not the pure untouched woman he thought her. For a brief moment he doubted, but then dismissed the thought as unworthy. Lucinda had not been honest with him at the start, but he would not think less of her for what that evil man had done to her. The hurt in her eyes as she told her story was proof of her innocence, though she ought to have told him before they were wed.

Yet she ought never to have been faced with such a dilemma. No young girl should be subjected to such wickedness.

He thought that if he knew the man’s identity he would break the rogue’s neck. Fierce emotions raged through him as he considered taking revenge for the hurt inflicted on a vulnerable girl of sixteen. Justin would thrash the devil to within an inch of his life. Indeed, he would gladly see the man dead.

He wished that she’d kept the blackmail letter. He might have been able to get to the bottom of this business, but, as things stood, it would be like looking for a needle in a haystack. Who had sent such a letter on their wedding day? How had that person discovered the secret that Lucinda’s father had so carefully hushed up?

Of course these things were never a complete secret. Someone knew the child had been born. There must surely have been a doctor or a midwife at the birth—or perhaps a servant in Lucinda’s grandmother’s house. It would be there he should begin his search if he intended to make enquiries.

Did he wish to discover more? Justin frowned. It was after all his wife’s secret, but if she were being blackmailed, he had a duty to protect her—and not just for the sake of his good name. Even if she paid the fellow—or woman—to keep quiet, they would come back for more. It was the nature of such creatures.

There was only one way to deal with blackmail and that was to meet threat with threat. He would make whomever had done this thing shiver in their boots and, if they continued with their evil purpose, he would see them punished.

The agents who had searched for Lucinda were discreet. He was certain he could trust them to discover the whereabouts of Lucinda’s grandmother—or, if she were no longer living, her servants. No need to disclose his wife’s secret. He would question the servants and then, if they answered openly, any doctor or midwife who had presided over the birth of Lucinda’s child.

She had told him the child had died—but was that certain? Justin frowned as he thought about the probable scenario. Mr Seymour would not have permitted his daughter to keep the child. It was possible that he might have ordered that she be told the babe was dead while in truth he’d had it adopted.

The net widened, for anyone involved in the handling of that secret adoption might have decided to use blackmail when they heard of Lucinda’s wedding plans. It was clear that it was her marriage to a wealthy man that had brought the toad crawling out from under its stone. Someone had seen an opportunity because she was to be the wife of an important man.

Justin felt angry that his wife had been subjected to such a foul blackmail on her wedding day. It had been meant to be a joyous occasion and had ended in distress for them both.

He felt a pang of regret when he recalled his own harshness towards her. He had felt such jealousy, such disappointment and pain when he learned that she was not the shy virgin he’d thought her that he’d lashed out. He’d promised he would not be unkind to her and he’d broken his word. He was uncertain why he had acted in such an uncharacteristic manner. At the start he had believed he could accept what she’d told him; after all, it had happened before they met—but then emotions he had not recognised welled up in him and his anger erupted. Why? Yes, she had deceived him, but he felt it was more her uncertainty that made her hold back rather than deliberate malice. At one time he’d briefly considered marrying a widow and the loss of the lady’s maidenhead to her first husband had not disturbed him one whit—why then should he feel such rage because Lucinda was not a virgin?

Why should he be jealous? It had not been meant to be a love match. He’d chosen her because she did not throw herself at him every time he so much as looked at her, as almost every other lady he’d met did constantly. It was her smile, her quiet charm and her sweetness that had made him notice her. She had not changed. It was Justin who felt differently, though at this moment he could not explain the conflicting emotions that raged within him or their cause.

Justin knew that he was in the wrong, but for the moment he could not quite forgive her for not confiding in him sooner. The look in her eyes had wrenched at his heart. She’d seemed to beg for something—something he had not been able to give. His own lack disturbed him, adding to his feeling of rage and he’d lashed out without thinking. In time his hurt would ease and he hoped that they might still have enough respect for each other to make a go of their marriage, but for the moment he needed to be alone.

He would tell Lucinda that evening. There was some business in London that needed his attention. It meant that he would be away for perhaps ten days. When he returned he hoped that he would have come to terms with his disappointment and they might begin again. It must be better for both of them to go on with the marriage than suffer a painful divorce. He would recover from the scandal, but she would be ruined. He could not do that to her. It would be cruel and unfair.

Relieved to have settled the matter in his mind, he returned home. The servants must not suspect anything, for there had been enough scandal. He would take tea with Lucinda in the small salon just as if nothing had ever come between them. If he suspected that he had not been quite truthful with himself in his motives for his decision, he was not yet ready to face the possibility that he might care more deeply for his lovely wife than he’d thought possible.

Romantic love was a myth. To give one’s heart without reserve was to invite pain. Affection was sufficient and once he had recovered from this absurd attack of jealous rage, he would resort to being the considerate husband he’d always intended to be.

That night, Lucinda sat in front of her dressing mirror brushing her hair when Justin knocked and asked if he might enter. She gave permission and he came in, looking at her oddly as she stood and turned to face him. Something in his expression spoke of hunger and a need to take her in his arms and for a moment she hoped that he intended to make up their quarrel, but his next words chilled her.

‘Forgive me, I did not intend to disturb you, Lucinda. I said nothing downstairs for I would not have the servants hear me. I must go to London tomorrow on business. You will give me your word to remain here and do nothing to cause more scandal.’

His harsh words hurt her. ‘Why should I cause more scandal? Can you not accept that I am sorry for harming you?’

‘Perhaps. I was merely making myself clear. I need a little space to come to terms with what you told me earlier. I should be no longer than ten days—perhaps less. When I return we shall take time to know each other properly. I think perhaps we wed in haste. We know very little about one another’s lives.’

‘I told you that when you asked me to wed you, Justin.’

‘I believed I knew you,’ he said and a tiny nerve flicked at his temple. ‘Now I know that I was wrong. I think we must both work at this, Lucinda. I did not mean to be so harsh earlier. Had I not cared for you, it would not have been such a shock to learn that you were not what I thought you.’

‘Yes, I understand you must feel disgust and anger,’ she said, but kept her head high. ‘I have apologised for not telling you—but I am as I was. I did nothing to encourage that man’s attack, I promise you.’

‘You will give me his name?’

‘What do you intend to do?’ She was startled, her eyes on his face.

‘He may well be your blackmailer—had you not thought of him?’

‘No,’ Lucinda whispered, putting a hand to her throat. ‘I have not thought about who wrote the note.’

‘You have not wondered?’ Justin looked puzzled. ‘Surely you must realise that whomever it was will most likely try again. Next time I insist that you bring the letter to me.’

‘Yes,’ she said, not daring to meet his eyes. ‘But it was not signed.’

‘No, it would not be—but sometimes there is a clue. Was it well written or badly formed?’

‘Oh, I had not thought…well written, I think. Yes, the letters were clear and there were no spelling or grammar mistakes.’

‘Then it makes it more likely that it was either your father’s friend himself—or perhaps the doctor who assisted at the birth. Who else would know your secret, Lucinda?’

‘Grandmama, my parents and the doctor—also my grandmother’s servants. They knew what had happened, I am sure.’

‘Yes, they must, but most servants could not write a letter of that quality. I think it narrows the options a little.’

‘Unless…Grandmama had friends. She may have told someone in confidence.’ Lucinda raised her eyes to his. ‘Why is it important?’

‘Because I must be ready in case whomever it is tries again. You will not pay, Lucinda. You will have nothing to do with this person, whomever it may be. I shall deal with the problem, do you hear me?’

‘Yes, of course.’

‘Very well. We shall not speak of this again unless we must.’ He moved towards her. For a moment she thought he meant to touch her or kiss her, but instead he picked up a perfume bottle from the dressing table and held it to his nose. ‘This is such a haunting scent. I kept smelling it when you were away and it brought you closer. I am glad to have you back, Lucinda.’

She swallowed hard. ‘Thank you for accepting me.’

‘You are my wife. What else should I do?’

The expression in his eyes caused Lucinda’s heart to race. For a moment she thought he would take her into his arms and kiss her. Had he done so she would have clung to him, returned his kisses and then confessed her secret, but the look faded. He inclined his head to her, then turned and walked away without touching her or speaking further.

Lucinda stared at the door for some moments after he closed it behind him. She almost wished that he had raged at her. His quiet, controlled anger was hard to bear. She could not blame him, because she’d brought it on herself, but it still hurt. Justin had been so courteous towards her, so careful and caring of her feelings and her comfort. Where had that charming, gentle, teasing gentleman gone? Would she ever see him again—or had her thoughtless deceit destroyed him?

Sitting on the edge of the bed, she discovered that she could no longer hold back her tears. They trickled unheeded down her cheeks for some minutes, then she wiped them away. She would not waste time feeling sorry for herself.

She must think about the future. If she was to keep her daughter and hide the secret from Justin, it would mean taking Alice into her confidence. Her maid was honest and would help her by taking messages to her daughter and making excuses for her absence when she went to visit the child.

It was not an ideal arrangement keeping Angela in the old cottage at the edge of the estate, but it was all she could do for the moment. She had been so lucky to find that Nanny was still alive and living a precarious existence since her dismissal from Mrs Seymour’s employ.

‘She is a little love, but too thin,’ Nanny said as Lucinda explained the circumstances. ‘Yes, of course I will look after your daughter for you, my love. I never agreed with the way your father treated you—and to tell you she was dead, that was wicked. Had I been in a position to help you before this I should have done so, but I was dismissed instantly for having a bad influence on you.’

‘That was unfair.’

‘Well, it is past and the child is the important one now.’ Nanny smiled and touched her head, but Angela sniffled and looked apprehensive, as though she feared she would be smacked or bullied.

‘She has been ill-treated, so you must not scold her too much. I know her speech is bad, but correct her kindly, Nanny. She will learn by example.’

‘Yes, of course she will. I never smacked you, Lucinda, and I shall not smack this little darling—but she must start to learn her manners for she is your daughter.’

‘For the moment I cannot acknowledge her. My husband would not allow it.’

Nanny looked at her sadly. ‘You should tell your husband the truth, Lucinda. He couldn’t let you acknowledge her, of course, but if he is a good man he will allow you to see her—and he’ll find a decent place for us to live.’

‘I hope in time to confide in him, but for now it must be our secret.’

‘Very well.’

Nanny had agreed reluctantly. Lucinda knew she would care for the child as if she were her own, but she did not approve.

Alice might not approve, either—but for the moment Lucinda had no choice.

Perhaps after Justin’s return, if they became friends again, she could tell him. He might not let her have the child with her, but he might allow her to have Angela near her and visit sometimes.

Retiring to her bed, Lucinda lay restless, her mind in turmoil. If Justin discovered that she had lied to him again, he would hate her.

Justin lay sleepless. He had brought the decanter of brandy to his room, hoping that a glass or two of his favourite tipple would dull the edge of his need, but at the moment it did not seem to have worked. The desire to touch and kiss his wife was burning through him, making him groan. Had he been less proud, more sure of his own feelings and hers, he would have gone to her, taken her in his arms and begged her to forgive him. Being close to her that evening had made him aware just how lovely she was—and how much he burned to make her his wife in truth. He was a fool to let himself be hurt. Why not simply make this quarrel up with her and forget everything in her arms—bury himself in her perfumed flesh?

No, that was foolish. His father would have called him a weakling for considering such an action. Justin had been strictly reared to understand the position he held as head of one of the leading families in England. Indeed, the first duke was rumoured to be one of Charles I’s by-blows, borne of a titled lady who had kept her secret even from the king until later in life when she made a request for her son and was granted the title on his behalf. His father’s words ran through his mind.

‘Remember what you owe yourself and the family, Justin. Feeling must always be denied for, if once set free, it will ruin any man. You are of noble blood and must never forget your duty. Our family has upheld the true virtues of honour and decency for centuries. Do not be the one to break that slender thread.’

His father would say it was his duty to annul the marriage at once, to send Lucinda away in disgrace and marry a girl of impeccable reputation.

No, he could not do that. Justin was angry and hurt, but beneath the pain and the rage he knew that he still wanted his beautiful wife. He still cared what became of her. To abandon her to the gossips would be cruel and senseless. Deep within him the need to protect her from hurt had asserted itself. He must not let what had happened ruin both their lives.

Somehow he must come to terms with the situation and the only way to do that was to put a little distance between them for a while. If he stayed here, he would not be able to keep from her bed.