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Chapter Six

Dominique was not convinced by Gwendoline’s brave talk, but they had reached their destination and there was no time to discuss anything more. Judd informed them the master was in the morning room and they went to find him.

‘My dear Gideon,’ declared Gwen, greeting him with a kiss. ‘Have you been waiting in for us? How sweet of you. We are quite exhausted.’

‘And is my credit similarly exhausted?’ he asked, smiling slightly.

He invited Dominique to sit on the sofa and sat down beside her, once Gwen had dropped elegantly into an armchair.

‘Lord, no. I had everything put to Ribblestone’s account and he will sort it all out with you later.’ Gwendoline paused while the wine and cakes were served. ‘Now, Gideon,’ she said at last, selecting a dainty confection from the selection on her plate. ‘We have made a start in setting your wife up with clothes for the Season. I have been promised that the first of the gowns will be delivered here tomorrow. What about Court Dress? Are you presenting her at a drawing room?’

‘Oh, I would rather not,’ murmured Dominique in some alarm.

‘Nonsense, your husband will be the next Viscount Rotham. You must be presented.’

‘But not yet,’ said Gideon. ‘I think my father should meet Nicky first. This visit to town is merely an—er—informal one.’

‘And when do you intend to go to Rotham?’

‘All in good time.’

Gwen frowned. ‘You cannot put off the meeting forever, Brother. Whatever was said in the heat of the moment Papa will not hold it against you, you know that. Your tempers are too similar for him not to understand. He is lonely, Gideon, and however harsh his words he does care for you, very much.’

‘I do know that.’ He rubbed a hand across his eyes. ‘I shall go, but not yet, not yet.’

Dominique sipped her wine and listened to the conversation, aware of a tension between the brother and sister.

‘Is it because of me?’ she ventured. ‘Will Lord Rotham be angry with you for marrying me?’

‘Of course not—!’

Gideon put up his hand to stem his sister’s denial.

‘He will not be happy about it, but his wrath will be on my head, Nicky, not yours. I shall not take you to Rotham without his assurance that you will be received with the respect that is due to you.’

Respect! That sounded very bleak indeed. Dominique was relieved Gideon had no immediate plans to take her to Rotham. Perhaps once she had her own clothes she would feel more courageous. From all Gwen had told her she knew she would be a fool to cling on to any hope that Gideon would ever feel more for her than a mild friendship, but perhaps she could gain his respect. She resolved there and then never to embarrass him by any show of affection that he would have to rebuff. No, she would show him—and his father—that despite her French heritage she could be a model wife, a fitting consort for an English lord.

* * *

Dominique was soon on good terms with Mrs Wilkins and slipped naturally into her role as mistress of the house. She began to make little changes, such as ordering a fire to be kept burning in the morning room, and she asked Judd to remove some of the heavy silver from the dining table, so that she could at least see her husband when they dined together each evening. If Gideon noticed he said nothing, but she was heartened when he suggested a place should be laid for her at his right hand for dinner, rather than sitting so far apart, and she was quietly pleased when he began to seek her out for a glass of wine when he came in each afternoon, before going upstairs to change for dinner. For the first week she remained in the house, going out only with Lady Ribblestone on shopping trips, but by the end of Dominique’s second week in Brook Street, Gwendoline declared that her sister-in-law was at last fit to be seen.

They were having breakfast and Lady Ribblestone suggested they should drive through the park at the fashionable hour.

‘I should like to go out,’ Dominique admitted, ‘but Hyde Park—will it not be very crowded?’

‘Oh, excessively,’ replied Gwendoline cheerfully. ‘The world and his wife will be there.’

‘So many people?’ exclaimed Dominique, dismayed. ‘I am not sure I am ready—’

She broke off as Gideon came in.

‘Now, what are you two plotting?’ he said, smiling. ‘Are you off to spend more money today?’

‘Not at all,’ retorted Gwen. ‘I want Dominique to accompany me to the park. It promises to be a very fine afternoon and we could drive out in the barouche.’

He sat down at the table and poured himself a cup of coffee. Gwen watched him in surprise.

‘This is a change, Brother,’ she said, momentarily diverted. ‘I thought you only drank ale at breakfast.’

He grinned. ‘Bachelor fare, Sis. I am a married man now.’

‘Then help me to persuade your wife to drive out with me. She has been cooped up in this house long enough.’

‘I agree,’ said Gideon, ‘but I am not sure if riding with you in a stuffy barouche is how she should make her entrance into polite society.’

‘There is nothing stuffy about Ribblestone’s barouche,’ retorted his sister, offended.

‘Perhaps not, but I would rather drive Nicky in my curricle.’

It was the first time he had suggested they go out together and Dominique felt her cheeks going pink with pleasure.

‘I cannot compete with that.’ Gwen laughed and wagged her finger at Dominique. ‘Accept immediately, my dear. I have never known my brother to take up a female in his curricle before!’

‘Quite true, Gwen.’ Gideon turned to Dominique, smiling. ‘Well, madam, will you give me the honour of driving you out for your first introduction to the ton?’

* * *

Dominique was in a panic. What to wear to drive out with Gideon? Her new riding habit had not yet arrived, and although her new promenade dress was beautiful it had been bought for the warmer months. She even ran out into the street to test the weather. The sun was shining, but there was a chill wind blowing and she did not want to make her first public appearance wrapped up in a shawl. After much deliberation she decided she would wear her new pelisse of crimson silk, with a matching cap. Gwendoline had persuaded her to have it trimmed with fur and frogged à la hussar, prophesying correctly that the chilly days of spring were not yet at an end. She had also added that not everyone could wear such a strong colour, especially not a blowsy blonde.

* * *

At the appointed hour Dominique made her way downstairs to find Gideon waiting for her in the hall. He glanced up as he heard her step on the stairs, then turned for a second, longer look. She saw the surprise in his eyes, but there was admiration, too, and her heart gave a little skip. She was emboldened to ask him if she would do.

‘You will do very well,’ he said slowly. ‘The colour suits you admirably.’

She was relieved and said with a smile, ‘Remind me, then, to thank your sister for persuading me to buy it.’

A gleaming curricle waited at the door, two beautiful grey horses in harness and his groom at their heads.

‘This is Sam, my tiger,’ said Gideon, a laugh in his voice. ‘And the reason he is looking so deuced savage is that we are not in the habit of driving females.’

‘Not if they’s gonna screech and frighten the ’osses,’ muttered Sam, giving a reluctant tug of his forelock in Dominique’s direction.

‘Mind your tongue, man!’

‘No, he is quite right,’ replied Dominique, cutting across her husband’s sharp reply and smiling at the groom. ‘I hope I know how to behave myself in an open carriage and think I can promise not to screech, unless of course we are about to be overturned.’

‘He ain’t likely to do that,’ opined Sam. ‘Top o’ the trees is Mr Albury when it comes to driving.’

‘Ah, then I understand why you are happy to stay in his employ,’ she said as Gideon helped her into her seat. ‘And since you have such confidence in Mr Albury’s driving, I am more than happy to drive out with him.’

* * *

‘I think you have made a conquest,’ murmured Gideon as the groom jumped clear of the horses and waited to scramble up into the rumble seat. ‘Sam was not at all happy when he discovered I had fallen into the parson’s mousetrap.’

Dominique said nothing, but she was pleased to have come safely over another small hurdle.

* * *

The spring sunshine had brought everyone out of doors and the journey to the park gates was slow. Gideon kept his attention on negotiating the busy roads and Dominique had plenty of time to admire his skill as he inched the curricle through the traffic. If she expected to enjoy a quiet drive, she was disappointed. As soon as they entered the park gates she saw the crowds. Ladies with parasols, gentlemen with their canes, all parading up and down beside a procession of carriages and riders. Their progress was very slow, for it seemed everyone wanted to stop and be introduced to the new Mrs Albury. Gideon was a little concerned at first about how Nicky would react to all the attention, but he discovered his worries unfounded. She was a little shy, but her manners were perfectly good and she turned aside the more impertinent comments and questions with a quiet dignity.

‘How did they know I was in London?’ wondered Dominique when they moved on from yet another introduction.

‘There will have been something in the society pages.’

Gideon said no more. He had deliberately ordered Judd not to bring the newspapers into breakfast each morning after he had seen the first sly reference.

The Hon. Mr A—has brought his new bride to town, but there are rumours that this is not the Bride he had been expecting, his intended having been replaced at the very altar by Another. The ceremony took place at the seat of that well-known trickster, the Earl of M—

Gideon recognised Max’s hand behind that entry and he did not doubt there would be more, which was why he had been so keen that his wife should make her first appearance in his company. He knew speculation would be rife, but he had not expected quite so much interest. Why, the carriages were queuing up to speak to them.

‘A new bride always attracts attention,’ he remarked after a pause.

‘Undoubtedly, but I fear my cousin has been at work to advertise our situation,’ she said shrewdly.

Gideon heard the uncertainty in her voice and briefly put one hand over hers.

‘I have no doubt he has.’ Damn Max. ‘Do not worry. If we present a united front the gossip will soon fade, dismissed as idle rumour.’

‘Of course, but...’

He glanced down and saw the crease in her brow, the way she caught her bottom lip between her teeth. He said gently, ‘What is the matter, Nicky?’

‘Max and his friends are still at Martlesham. Would he really send word all the way to London, to make mischief for us?’

‘You should know your cousin doesn’t like to be crossed.’

‘True, and you did rather take the wind out of his sails by not calling for an annulment. I’m afraid he will make more trouble for you, if he can.’

For him? Did she have no worries for herself? He shrugged, wanting to reassure her.

‘What can he do? When people see that we are perfectly happy together then the rumours will soon die away.’

‘I fear that will inconvenience you greatly.’

‘Me?’

‘Why, yes, if you must be seen everywhere with me, instead of enjoying your own life as you have been used to do.

Gideon was startled at her matter-of-fact tone and rather alarmed, too. All her concern appeared to be for his well-being, while he had given very little thought to hers. He had been happy to leave his sister to look after Nicky, to provide her with the wardrobe she would need for her new life, but he knew most brides would consider him very neglectful. Not that Nicky wanted his attentions—she had been very reserved since their wedding night. True, she had seemed very willing then, but she had been an innocent and his passion must have frightened her as much as it had shocked him. It was not how he had expected to behave with his new wife.

It was one of the things his father had drummed into him, that wives were fragile, delicate creatures and must be treated with great care and gentleness. Gideon had not visited her bed again and Nicky had shown no signs of wanting him to do so. He would need an heir, of course, but there was plenty of time for that when they were more comfortable together. Since they had arrived in London he had left her to settle in, seeing her only at breakfast and for dinner some evenings. He told himself it was for her sake, but there was something about his new wife that unsettled him, an unlooked-for attraction that stole up on him when he was too long in her company and he was determined not to take advantage of her again, but suddenly it all seemed incredibly selfish.

‘I beg your pardon,’ he said now, painfully aware of his shortcomings. ‘I have been very busy, but you have every right to be angry with me for my lack of attention. Most new brides would be ringing a peal over their husbands for such behaviour.’

‘But ours is a most irregular marriage. I do not expect you to—what is the term?—live in my pocket.’ She shifted in her seat and looked up at him, her green eyes dark and earnest. ‘I want to make you a good wife, Gideon.’

He did not know how to reply, but stared in silence at the serious little face framed by dark curls. No wonder the ton was so interested in his marriage. They had been in town for almost three weeks and this was the first time they had been seen out together. Well, he thought grimly, that would change. His friends would look for him in vain tonight. He would stay at home with his wife.

He did not realise he was still staring at her until he heard Sam’s gruff voice, telling him to mind his horses. Nicky blushed and a shy twinkle appeared in her eyes.

‘Yes, look to your driving, sir,’ she admonished him, straightening in her seat. ‘You are wandering all over the path.’

* * *

When Gideon informed Dominique at dinner that evening that he was not going out she could not conceal her surprise. It would be the first time he had spent the whole evening with her since the night they had arrived in Brook Street.

‘Those who made your acquaintance in the park today will no doubt be sending you invitations very soon,’ he told her, straightening the cutlery. ‘This may be the last opportunity to enjoy a quiet evening together.’

* * *

When the meal was over Dominique left him to his port and went off to the drawing room. At first she nervously paced the floor, plumping cushions and straightening the ornaments, until she took herself to task for being so nervous. This was her home, too, and she should enjoy it. What would she really like to do? The beautiful pianoforte in the corner of the room gleamed enticingly, so she sat down and began to play. She was so lost in the music that she did not notice the time passing until she looked up and found Gideon standing by the door, watching her.

‘Do go on,’ he said, moving into the room and taking a seat by the fire.

Dominique continued until she had finished the Haydn sonata and, as the last notes died away, Gideon began to applaud.

‘That was very good, Nicky. And to play without music, you are very accomplished.’

‘Thank you, I have been practising here every day, since I discovered this lovely instrument. I play the harp, too. My mother is very fond of music and insisted I should learn. When we came to England she badgered the earl into providing a tutor. The lessons continued until my uncle died three years ago.’

‘And do you sing, too?’

‘Yes, a little.’

‘Then will you sing for me?’

A flush of pleasure tinged her cheeks.

‘Of course. What would you like? An English folk song, perhaps?’

Receiving a nod of assent, she played an introduction, then added her voice, a little hesitant at first, but as the music took over she closed her eyes and sang with more confidence. It was a favourite of her mother’s, a haunting love song about a young woman waiting for her lover to return. The thought of Mama, writing her endless letters, refusing to give up hope, gave an added piquancy to the song and when at last she had finished and opened her eyes again, for a moment she could not recall quite where she was.

‘That was quite beautiful.’ Gideon had moved closer. ‘There is so much I do not know about you.’

His eyes were fixed upon her, dark and intense in the glow of the candles. A shiver ran down her spine and she felt desire curling deep inside her.

‘We know so little about each other,’ she said, trying not to think of the night they had spent together. He had seen her naked, explored her body in the most intimate way. Yet they were still strangers.

‘Nicky—’

‘I have asked Mrs Wilkins to bring in the tea tray,’ she interrupted him hastily. ‘And perhaps I should ring for Judd to build up the fire.’

He caught her hand as she walked by him and her fingers trembled in his grasp.

‘You are afraid of me.’

She dared not look at him.

‘Not afraid, no.’

‘Then what is it?’

‘You said it yourself. We do not know each other.’

‘Then we must put that right.’ His breath was warm upon her cheek. He must be bending, perhaps about to kiss the bare skin of her shoulder. If he did that she knew the slender rein she had over herself would snap, she would turn and throw herself at him again, and he would know what a wanton soul she had. She remembered the accusations against the late Queen of France: that she had been unable to control her lust. She had seen many such women at Martlesham since Max had become earl, not only actresses and whores, but also the wives of his so-called friends, all of them willing to share their favours. Her mother had kept her well away from those riotous gatherings, but she had heard Max’s disparaging comments and knew the servants viewed them with contempt. Men despised such women and she was desperate that Gideon should not despise her any more than he did already.

She said with forced lightness, ‘We can relate our histories over a dish of Bohea.’

‘Yes, of course. And here is Judd now with the tea tray. Shall I light the spirit kettle?’

She uttered up a prayer of thanks at his friendly tone. This she could cope with, the ritual of making tea, sitting in separate chairs, their only contact the accidental touch of fingers when she handed him his cup. They conversed easily, but with a wary restraint, on guard lest any remark should cause offence or embarrassment.

‘Your sister has invited me to her musical soirée on Thursday,’ she said when he brought his cup to her for more tea. ‘I would like to go, if you have no objection?’

‘Of course not. May I come with you?’ His brows snapped together. ‘Now why should you look so surprised—would you rather I didn’t?’

‘G-Gwendoline thought you would not—she said I should not expect you to accompany me everywhere.’

‘I think it might be expected that I would attend my own sister’s soirée. That is, if you would like me to come with you.’

Dominique would like nothing better and wanted to say as much, but his next words stopped her.

‘We are already agreed, are we not, that we must show the ton we are on the best of terms? You may be sure that someone will pass the word on to Martlesham.’

So that was it. They were to show Max that his little trick had failed. She forced herself to keep smiling.

‘Quite.’

She made her excuses to retire as soon as she could after that, barely waiting for Gideon to kiss her fingers before pulling her hand away and hurrying off to her room. She heard Gideon’s footsteps in the corridor some time later, but he did not even pause as he passed her door.

* * *

‘Dominique, my dear, welcome to my little musical gathering. Ribblestone is at the House, but he will be back later to meet you.’ Gwendoline bent to envelope her in a scented hug, the ostrich feathers in her turban quivering above her as she added in an excited whisper, ‘I have never had such a crowd here before. Not one refusal to my invitations. This must be down to you, my love.’

‘Don’t put my wife to the blush before she is even through the door, Gwen.’

‘Oh, tush, Dominique knows she is amongst friends here.’ Gwendoline pulled Gideon to her and kissed his cheek. ‘How are you, Brother? You are looking very fine this evening.’

Dominique thought so, too. Stealing another glance at her husband in his black coat and dazzlingly white linen, she thought he was easily the most handsome man in the room. His hair glinted with fiery red sparks in the candlelight, which also accentuated the strong angles of his lean face. He wore no jewellery save his heavy signet ring and a quizzing glass on a black-velvet ribbon around his neck, but the exquisite cut of his coat and artfully knotted cravat were the envy of many.

‘My love, may I present to you...’

She found herself surrounded by gentlemen. Her instinct was to cling to her husband, but that would never do. She allowed him to make the introductions, accepted their compliments with a shy smile, but was relieved when, after a few moments’ conversation, Gideon took her arm and guided her away.

‘I can’t have you falling into the clutches of those Lotharios tonight,’ he murmured as he led her across the room.

‘Are they all so bad, then?’ She glanced back. ‘They seemed perfectly respectable, save perhaps for Sir Desmond, who was whispering the most outrageous things to Gwen. The rest I thought were perfect gentlemen.’

‘And so they are, as long as I am beside you, but leave them alone with a pretty woman—’

She felt her cheeks burn.

‘Oh, do you mean that, Gideon, do you really think I am pretty?’

‘As a picture,’ he replied, lifting her gloved hand to his lips.

She knew it meant nothing, he performed the gesture with practised ease, as he had doubtless done hundreds of times before with other women, but she could not prevent her heart from beating just that little bit faster. Her body responded to his every look, every touch, but she had learned to hide it, so that she alone knew how much her skin tingled when he was close to her and how much she ached to feel his arms about her.

* * *

The gentlemen melted away, but the ladies were not so easy to escape. They clustered about the couple, trying to separate Dominique from her husband, ostensibly to sit with them for the forthcoming recital, but she guessed they really wanted to learn the circumstances of her marriage. She held tight to Gideon’s arm and he turned aside every invitation, declaring with a laugh that he wanted to keep his wife to himself for this one evening.

When at length they sat down together she murmured her thanks to him and could not resist asking if he was merely staying by her for the sake of the gossip-mongers.

‘Good God, no. I came here to be with you this evening. And besides, I want to know what you think. Many of my sister’s guests have no musicality at all, and praise everyone to the skies, however dire the performance.’

He values my opinion!

Dominique sat up a little straighter. She had been apprehensive about the evening, but with Gideon beside her she began to relax and enjoy herself. They sat through some poor piano playing, and even worse poetry, but when they went in to supper Dominique could not agree with Gideon’s remark that it was a wasted evening.

‘I have made a number of new acquaintances and that will stand me in good stead in future. And,’ she added, giving him a twinkling look, ‘now I have heard the standard of music that is acceptable in town I shall not be afraid to play in public.’

‘I am glad to hear that.’ He grinned back at her. ‘It has been particularly bad this evening. I shall have to have words with my sister.’

* * *

Later, however, when she brought her husband to their table, Gwendoline was unrepentant.

‘They are friends, dear Brother, and desperate to perform. I get them over with first, so that we can all relax and enjoy the remainder of the evening.’

‘Aye, that is why I am never here early,’ agreed Lord Ribblestone in a grave tone that was decidedly at odds with the mischievous gleam in his eye. ‘Gwen has too soft a heart when it comes to lame ducks and always likes to give them a chance to show their paces. You will learn, Mrs Albury, never to get to my wife’s parties before suppertime.’

‘You certainly do not,’ retorted Gwen.

He smiled. ‘Acquit me, my love. Tonight at least I would have come earlier, if matters had allowed.’

Gideon raised an eyebrow.

‘Discussing the treaty, Anthony?’

Ribblestone’s mouth twisted.

‘This peace with France won’t last the year.’

‘Oh, I hope you are wrong there, my lord.’ Dominique blushed at her impetuous words.

‘My wife’s father is French,’ explained Gideon.

Lord Ribblestone’s brows shot up.

‘Is he, by Gad? But I thought—’

‘Goodness, Anthony, if you took more notice of me and less of your dusty political papers, you would remember!’ Gwendoline broke in hastily. ‘I explained everything, so there is no need to go over it all again. Now, my lord, we still have any number of guests wishing to play for us tonight so you must help me get everyone back to the salon.’ Gwendoline bore him away, giving Dominique a warm smile as she passed. ‘I promise you the best players have yet to perform. I do not think you will be disappointed, my dear.’

Dominique tried to respond, but all she could think of was Lord Ribblestone’s astonishment that Gideon should marry a Frenchwoman.

‘My brother-in-law has many attributes, but tact is not one of them,’ remarked Gideon. ‘No wonder the government is in such disarray, if he is an example of their abilities.’ He said gently, ‘Your French connections are no secret in town, my dear, but I doubt anyone else will remark upon it.’ He rose and held out his hand to her. ‘Now, shall we gird our loins for more execrable music?’

She accompanied him back to the salon, but her new brother-in-law’s shock had undermined her confidence. Everyone was watching her, wondering what could have persuaded Gideon to marry a penniless Frenchwoman without even beauty to recommend her. However, his continued presence at her side was reassuring, and since the musical offerings were indeed much improved she tried very hard to put her anxieties aside and enjoy herself. A particularly good duet between piano and harp had her clapping enthusiastically, as did a very funny ditty by Sir Desmond Arndale.

‘Bravo,’ cried Gwendoline, moving forwards to congratulate him. ‘A splendid ending to our evening, sir. Now that everyone has performed—’

‘Not quite everyone.’ Sir Desmond interrupted her. ‘Mrs Albury has yet to play.’

Dominique had been too busy applauding to take in his words until she found everyone looking at her.

‘What? Oh, no—that is—’

‘Come along, ma’am, I am sure everyone wants to hear you.’ Sir Desmond was beaming and beckoning her forwards.

Gideon turned to her.

‘I would like to hear you, very much, but if you wish I will tell them you would rather not.’

The kindly understanding in his eyes boosted her spirits. She squared her shoulders.

‘No,’ she said, smiling a little, ‘I have been happy enough to listen to the others, it is only fair I take my turn.’

A smattering of applause went round the room as she rose and made her way to the pianoforte. Sir Desmond hovered around her, adjusting the candles and asking if he should search out any music for her from the pile of sheets on the table.

‘Perhaps Mrs Albury will play us a French air,’ sniggered someone from the audience.

Dominique affected not to hear, but she was heartened when Gideon responded with a laugh, ‘Perhaps she will—whatever her choice I know it will be delightful. What is it to be, my dear?’

‘A piece by Mr Mozart, I think,’ she declared.

The ‘Fantasia’ was not long and not even particularly difficult. She had performed it many times for her mother and knew she could play it well, but her confidence wavered when she looked around the room and realised how many people were watching her. Then her gaze fell upon Gideon. He was smiling at her. Everyone else was forgotten. She would play for him and him alone.

* * *

As she struck the last confident chords she smiled, knowing she had done well. The applause was instant and the first ‘brava’ she heard was from Gideon. There were calls for an encore, but she shook her head, blushing, and would have joined Gideon, but Gwendoline carried her off to enjoy the praise and compliments of her guests.

‘Gideon shall have you back in a while,’ she told Dominique, sweeping her away. ‘You must not allow him to monopolise you, my dear.’

‘By Gad no,’ declared Sir Desmond, accompanying them across the room. ‘It’s about time you gave the rest of us a share of your company, madam.’

When she glanced over her shoulder she saw Gideon smile and nod to her, before joining a group of gentlemen gathered about Lord Ribblestone, so she allowed Gwen to lead her to a lively little group who were enjoying a final glass of wine together before the carriages were called.

‘I thought we should never get a word with you,’ exclaimed Mrs Innis, a buxom matron swathed in mulberry silk. ‘Albury has been guarding you all evening.’

‘Not guarding,’ Dominique protested with a smile. ‘I enjoy his company.’

‘La, madam, pray do not say such a thing!’ cried Sir Desmond, throwing up his hands.

‘At least not in front of Gideon,’ added Gwen. ‘It would make him horribly conceited, you know.’

‘Yes,’ declared Mrs Innis. ‘A husband needs to be kept on his toes. ‘You must not let him take you for granted.’

‘You should set up a flirt,’ whispered Gwendoline. ‘As I have done.’ She turned to Sir Desmond, who was hovering about her. ‘My dear, will you be an angel and fetch me another glass of wine? I am quite parched this evening.’

As he lounged away Mrs Innis gave a fat chuckle.

‘If only we were all fortunate enough to have such a devoted lap dog.’

‘Desmond is very sweet,’ agreed Gwen, smiling after his retreating form.

‘But, does Lord Ribblestone not object?’ enquired Dominique.

Gwen’s smile slipped a little.

‘I doubt he even notices.’

Mrs Innis tapped Dominique’s arm with her closed fan.

‘Lord bless you, Mrs Albury. A man don’t want his wife to be forever clinging to his coat-tails, ain’t that so, Lady Ribblestone?’

‘No, indeed.’ Gwen shook off her reverie and gave a bright smile. ‘Pray do not look so shocked, dear sister. It is all the rage to have a cicisbeo, I assure you.’

‘But I don’t want a—a—’

‘Not a case of what you want,’ put in another lady, her eyes fixed rather wistfully upon a thin, bewhiskered gentleman on the far side of the room. ‘Grayson only shows an interest in me if he thinks he has a rival.’

‘Perhaps it is a little early for Mrs Albury to be setting up a flirt,’ said Mrs Innis, considering. ‘She is not yet married a month.’

‘It is much too early,’ Dominique replied emphatically. ‘I mean to be an exemplary wife.’

‘Very admirable, my dear, but you need to take care,’ said the wistful woman. ‘Nothing revolts a man more than an excessive display of affection from his spouse. Men are such contrary creatures, they are most attracted to the very thing they cannot have.’

And that would be the beautiful actress, thought Dominique, maintaining her smile with an effort.

‘Very true, Lady Grayson,’ averred Mrs Innis, the dyed ostrich feathers in her turban nodding vigorously. ‘You must never appear too eager for his attentions—that way leads only to disaster.’

Dominique turned to Gwendoline, expecting her to say that was nonsense, but instead her sister-in-law nodded, saying slowly, ‘You know, my dear, I think Gideon is very much like a dog with a bone. He may not want you at all, until someone else shows an interest.’

Dominique grimaced.

‘I am not a piece of meat, Gwen.’

‘No-o, but as his wife he may think he does not need to work for your affection.’

‘Perhaps I should talk to him—’

‘Fatal, my dear,’ declared Gwen. ‘You must keep Gideon at arm’s length if you want to maintain his interest.’

‘But surely—’

‘Only a trollop would throw herself at a man,’ stated Mrs Innis baldly, ignoring Dominique’s attempt to speak. ‘Give him your smiles, my dear, but never your sighs. Let him kiss you and make love to you, but never, never allow him to believe you care or it will be all over with you. He will be setting up his mistress and treating you like a bond slave. He will dominate and bully you until you are the unhappiest being in the world and he won’t even care.’

‘Who won’t care?’ demanded Sir Desmond, returning at that moment. ‘If you are talking of Lady R, then I care very much.’

‘Which just proves what we have been saying,’ responded Gwendoline lightly. ‘Men always want the one thing they cannot have.’

‘What nonsense are you telling my wife?’ demanded Gideon, coming up while they were all laughing.

‘Merely a few home truths, Brother, regarding how best to remain happy.’

‘My wife’s happiness is, of course, my chief concern.’ He made her a little bow and held out his arm. ‘Our carriage awaits, ma’am. I think it is time we said goodnight.’

* * *

‘I think that passed off very well,’ he remarked as they drove home through the dark streets. ‘And my sister introduced you to her friends?’

‘Yes. Including Sir Desmond Arndale.’ She drew a breath. ‘Is...um...is he her lover?’

‘I doubt it, but much of Anthony’s time is taken up with government matters and Arndale is useful when Gwen needs an escort. A harmless fribble.’

‘And is Lord Ribblestone jealous of him?’

‘Lord, no.’ He turned towards her. ‘Why this sudden interest in Arndale?’

‘I am curious to know how married women go on in London.’

‘Many of them behave scandalously.’ He leaned closer and reached out to cup her chin and turn her towards him. ‘But I don’t intend to allow you to behave like that, at least only with me.’

Her heart began to hammer as he kissed her and she raised her hand to touch his cheek, then pulled it back.

Men always want what they cannot have.

She must not show him how much she wanted him, yet surely he could hear her heart? She could hardly breathe it was thudding so heavily against her ribs. The carriage began to slow and he raised his head.

‘We are home,’ he murmured. ‘Be ready for me tonight. I shall come to your room.’

* * *

If Dominique had thought waiting in the drawing room for Gideon to finish his port was nerve-racking, waiting for him to come to her bedchamber was almost unbearable. She allowed Kitty to dress her in one of the soft linen nightdresses she had chosen with Gwendoline, then dismissed her and sat on the edge of the bed with only the glow of the fire and a single candle to relieve the darkness. The trunk she had brought with her from Martlesham was just visible in the gloom and when a sudden flare of the candle flame glinted on its studded lid she went over and opened it, rifling through the contents to pull out a gossamer-thin creation. This is what the unseen and unknown Agnes Bennet would have worn, she thought. But Agnes knew exactly how to tease a man into submission—witness the way she had bewitched Gideon into offering her marriage.

Put it on, whispered the seductive voice in her head. It will reveal your body and drive him to distraction.

But Dominique knew her slender form could not compare with the voluptuous curves of Agnes Bennet. Gideon might be disgusted with her—worse, he might even laugh. Quickly she put the wispy confection away again. The trunk must be removed, it was a constant reminder of the woman Gideon had wanted for his bride.

She heard a soft noise somewhere in the quiet house and ran back to the bed. Straining her ears, she picked up the sound of footsteps getting closer and she clasped her hands together nervously.

* * *

Gideon had not entered this bedchamber since he was a child. It had been his mother’s room and, apart from ordering that it was to be redecorated for his bride, he had not given it another thought—he realised a little ruefully that when he had issued those orders he had thought that his wife would spend most of her nights in his bed. But the woman he had envisaged sharing his life with was nothing like the woman he had married.

Something stirred within him when he saw the pale creature standing before the bed, her hair a dusky cloud around her shoulders. It was not the hot lust of their wedding night, more an urge to protect her, to make her happy.

‘I...um...I hope this room is to your liking?’

‘Yes, it is very comfortable, thank you.’

Silently he cursed his awkwardness. This was not a conversation for the bedroom. Why had he come here tonight? He recalled how beautifully she had played at Gwen’s soirée, his pride in her performance, the possessiveness he had felt when the men had clustered round her. A spike of desire coursed through him and he tried again.

‘You played like an angel tonight.’ She smiled at that. Encouraged, he moved closer, holding out his hands. ‘I did not know I had such an accomplished wife.’

Cautiously she reached out for him.

‘I am glad that I pleased you, Gideon.’

‘You do please me.’ As he pulled her into his arms he realised that he really meant it. ‘You please me a great deal.’

She looked up at him, shyly accepting his kiss.

* * *

Gideon made love to her that night. Dominique returned his caresses but she kept her emotions in check and tried to respond as she thought a wife should, compliant and quietly accepting of his attentions. His lovemaking was gentle and restrained, as if he was afraid she might break beneath him, and although there was none of the hot heady passion of their first coupling, when it was over, Dominique found it immensely satisfying to have him lying with her, to hold him in her arms until he slipped from her bed to make the way back to his own room in the chill dark hours before dawn.