Читать книгу Historical Romance – The Best Of The Year - Кэрол Мортимер, Кэрол Мортимер - Страница 44
ОглавлениеDominique spent the carriage ride into town warding off her sister-in-law’s questions.
‘This is most ungenerous of you,’ protested Gwen, laughing. ‘You arrive at my party last night, looking so ravishing that no man has eyes for anyone else, then you steal away with Gideon before the tea tray is brought in! What am I to think?’
‘Whatever you wish,’ replied Dominique twinkling. Then, relenting, she laughed and blushed. ‘Oh, Gwen, it was wonderful. I really think he cares for me.’
‘Did he say so?’
‘Not in so many words, but I hope that will follow.’
‘Yes, I hope so, too,’ replied Gwen sincerely. ‘He was certainly very loving towards you this morning.’
Dominique hesitated. ‘Perhaps you should try the same thing with your husband.’
‘I gave up trying to woo Anthony years ago. He is more interested in his politics than his wife. I have positively flaunted my flirts before him and he does not notice.’ Gwen’s mouth drooped and for a moment she looked very despondent, then she gave herself a little shake, and her generous smile reappeared. ‘But this is dismal talk when we have shopping to do. Madame Sienna’s first, I think, and then perhaps we should visit Bertram’s warehouse and find something to make you another dashy dress!’
* * *
Dominique had been quite happy to go along with Gwen’s plans, her head still full of Gideon and the night they had shared, but she was forced to put aside her beatific daydreams when they emerged from the modiste’s shop.
‘Oh, dear,’ exclaimed Gwen, ‘it is your cousin. Look, he has just emerged from Clifford Street. And he is coming this way.’
There was no avoiding him and, judging by the way his face lit up when he recognised her, Dominique knew he was going to stop and talk to her.
‘There is no avoiding him now, I suppose,’ muttered Gwen, linking her arm though Dominique’s for support. When he raised his hat she said coolly, ‘Lord Martlesham.’
‘Lady Ribblestone, and my dear cousin.’
His oily greeting immediately put Dominique on the alert. She nodded silently, hoping he would stand aside to let them pass, but, no. He merely looked pained.
‘So haughty, Dominique, after all I have done to promote your happiness.’
‘To destroy it would be more accurate.’
‘No, no, Cousin, your welfare has always been my first consideration. Does your husband know you are in town?’
Dominique raised her brows, saying coldly, ‘Of course.’
‘Perhaps he has arranged to meet you later.’
‘No, he is at Chalcots.’
His smile grew.
‘I think not.’
‘You must allow Mrs Albury to know best, my lord,’ put in Gwen. ‘We left my brother taking breakfast.’
Max regarded them with such a knowing smile that Dominique longed to box his ears.
‘I hate to disagree with you, ladies, but I think you will find—ah, no.’ He stopped and sighed. ‘If that is what you believe, then so be it.’
A cold hand clutched at Dominique’s heart, but she replied stoutly, ‘You can tell me nothing that will shake my faith in Gideon. I trust him implicitly.’
‘You trust him implicitly,’ he repeated slowly. ‘What a good little wife you are to him, my dear. And how I pity you.’
‘I do not need your pity. Now, if you will excuse us—’
‘And if I should tell you that he is seeing Mrs Bennet?’
‘Absurd!’ exclaimed Gwen hotly.
Dominique clutched her arm, her legs suddenly very weak.
‘You lie.’ She glared up at Max.
The triumphant gleam in his eyes only deepened.
‘He is meeting her in Green Park at noon.’ He lifted his head as a distant church bell chimed the hour. ‘Which is now. Why not come with me and we shall see who is right?’
Gwendoline said coldly, ‘We do not need to go to the Green Park, my lord. My brother’s integrity is beyond question.’
Dominique wanted to agree. She wanted to turn away from Max’s tormenting, smiling face, but she could not.
‘We will go with you,’ she stated, her back very straight. ‘But only to prove you wrong.’
Ignoring the earl’s outstretched arm, she turned and marched along Bond Street until they reached Piccadilly.
‘My dear, this is madness,’ Gwen muttered, hurrying beside her. ‘Let me take you home instead. I am sure...’
Her words trailed away as Dominique stopped, recognising the elegant curricle and pair trotting towards them at a smart pace.
‘So Albury’s integrity is beyond question, is it?’ The earl’s sneering voice only added to Dominique’s misery.
She watched the curricle fly past, Gideon intent on negotiating the heavy traffic. At his side was a cloaked figure, the breeze making the voluminous hood billow out to display the unmistakable face of Agnes Bennet. Like a devil at her shoulder, she heard Max chuckle.
‘Well, well. This has worked out even better than I expected. Cousin, I am so sorry for you.’
‘But where are they going?’ asked Gwen. ‘Where can he be taking her, and in broad daylight?’
‘I have no idea,’ drawled Max. ‘But it makes no odds to me. She has served her purpose well enough.’
‘She has—’ Gwen broke off, her indignation too great for her to speak for several moments. At last she said, in arctic tones, ‘Pray excuse us, Lord Martlesham. I must take my sister-in-law away from here.’
‘Of course, ma’am. If there is anything I can do...’
‘You have done quite enough!’
Dominique was rooted to the ground, staring after the curricle. Gwen put her arm about her shoulders.
‘Come, love, let me take you back to the carriage.’
Dominique tried to focus. Everything seemed very distant. She saw Max walking away, swinging his cane as if he had not a care in the world. And everyone else, too, was carrying on quite as normal.
‘I shall take you back to Grosvenor Square,’ said Gwen.
Dominique shook her head.
‘No,’ she managed, her throat so constricted that it was difficult to speak. ‘No, I want to go to Chalcots, if you please.’
‘Very well, love, if that is what you want.’
‘Yes, yes, it is.’ She struggled into the waiting carriage and collapsed into the corner, her world in ruins.
* * *
Gideon left Agnes at the Peacock Inn and made his way back to the city to the offices of Rogers & Mitchell. However, when he learned that Mr Rogers was gone out of town he drove to the newly refurbished offices of Coutts & Co in the Strand.
* * *
An hour later he was on his way home, well satisfied with the day’s work and eager to share his news with Dominique. After last night he half expected her to be looking out for him and to come running out into his arms, but when he pulled up at the main door of Chalcots there was no sign of life. No matter, he would probably find her in the nursery. How her face would light up when he told her that she was heiress to a considerable fortune.
Thomas opened the door and Gideon greeted him with a grin.
‘By Gad, you look as if you had lost sixpence and found a groat, Thomas. What is it, has Cook given notice?’
‘No, sir.’
‘Where is Mrs Albury?’
‘She—she’s gone, sir.’
‘Gone? You mean she has not returned from town yet?’
‘N-no, sir. I mean she has gone. Left.’ Gideon paused in the act of stripping off his gloves and under his frowning gaze the butler stumbled on. ‘Mrs Albury did come back, sir, with Lady Ribblestone, but she immediately left again, with her maid, and Nurse and Master James.’
‘What!’
Gideon dashed up the stairs. Dominique’s bedchamber was the first door he came to and he entered without knocking. The room was in a state of disarray, drawers and cupboards open and clothes scattered, as if someone had left in a hurry. He went quickly to the nursery, which was in very much the same state. He was still trying to take it all in when there was a discreet cough behind him and he turned to find his valet standing in the doorway.
‘What has gone on here, Runcorn?’
‘As to that I couldn’t say, sir. Mrs Albury came in with Lady Ribblestone soon after one o’clock and set the household by the ears.’
‘I can see that,’ muttered Gideon, grimly surveying the empty nursery.
‘From the little that I overheard,’ continued the valet in a toneless voice, ‘I believe they had met Lord Martlesham in Piccadilly...’
‘The devil they did!’ Suddenly it all made sense. Gideon swung round. ‘Any idea where they were going?’
‘I am afraid not, sir, but if it is any consolation, they all went off in Lady Ribblestone’s carriage.’
Cursing his stupidity, Gideon went back down the stairs, barking orders as he went.
* * *
Lord Ribblestone looked up from the letter in his hand when Gideon was shown into his study.
‘Is my wife here?’
Gideon wasted no time on pleasantries, but that did not seem to surprise his host.
‘No, and neither is mine.’ Anthony held out the paper. ‘I have only just come in myself and this was waiting for me. It is very garbled, but it appears Gwen has taken Dominique to Rotham.’
‘Thank God.’
Gideon sat down abruptly. Anthony walked over to a side table and filled two glasses from the decanter. He handed one to Gideon.
‘Trouble?’
‘Oh, yes.’ Gideon passed his hand across his eyes and quickly explained the events of the past few hours.
‘I hate to say I told you so,’ murmured Anthony, when he had finished. ‘But if you had told Dominique what you were about...’
‘I know, but it is too late for that now.’
‘Well, I suppose we must go after them.’
‘We?’
Anthony’s eyes narrowed.
‘My wife has gone, too, you know.’
‘Very well, but there is some business that needs attention first.’
‘Where are we going?’ asked Anthony, following him out of the room.
‘To White’s. I have a score to settle with Martlesham and I will need a second!’
* * *
Despite the early hour the club was busy and they found the earl at one of the card tables. He was surrounded by his cronies, including Carstairs and the foppish Williams. The earl was counting his winnings, but he glanced up as Gideon entered.
‘Albury,’ he called across the room. ‘Have you come to escape your wife’s wrath?’
‘Not at all,’ replied Gideon, stripping off his gloves.
Max cast a smirking glance at his cronies.
‘Quite a shock for her, to see you driving through Piccadilly with the delectable Mrs Bennet at your side. After all, ’twas only a year ago you were intent upon making her your bride, eh?’ A few stifled laughs were heard, but Gideon said nothing as he walked towards his quarry. Max was still chuckling as he rose from the table and stood before Gideon, his lip curled in a sneer. ‘No doubt you have installed the whore in a little love nest of your own.’
‘Don’t judge everyone by your own standards, Max. Mrs Bennet is now safely out of your way, but she did send something for you.’
Without warning Gideon’s fist came up and crashed into Max’s face, sending him sprawling to the ground.
Uproar ensued. Everyone crowded around and there were some mutters of ‘bad form!’ but a gesture from Lord Ribblestone prevented anyone laying hands upon Gideon.
‘By God, you will meet me for that!’ Max scrambled to his feet, his face suffused with rage and one hand pressed to his bleeding nose.
‘With pleasure,’ retorted Gideon coldly. ‘You planned to dupe my wife out of her rightful inheritance and I demand satisfaction for that. Hampstead Heath. Nine o’clock tonight.’
‘Tonight!’ The buck-toothed Williams raised his quizzing glass to stare at Gideon. ‘Nay, sir, make it tomorrow, at dawn.’
‘I have business that cannot wait,’ said Gideon shortly. He fixed his eyes on Max. ‘Nine o’clock, Martlesham. Be there, or be branded a rogue and a coward!’
* * *
The sun had set on a cloudless May day when Gideon drove on to Hampstead Heath. He stopped his curricle behind a closed carriage, from which a sober-looking gentleman in a bagwig was emerging, carrying a leather bag.
‘So we have a surgeon on hand, in any event,’ he remarked cheerfully.
‘Are you sure this is wise?’ murmured Ribblestone.
‘No, but it is necessary. I should have done it a year ago, rather than forcing Dominique to go on with a marriage that was none of her choosing.’ He looked up as he heard another carriage approaching. ‘Here’s Martlesham now, with Carstairs as his second. Let us finish this.’
* * *
Gideon talked to the doctor while Ribblestone conferred with Mr Carstairs. They inspected the duelling pistols—a pair provided by Anthony that Gideon had practised with on several occasions—then the combatants took their places. The light was fading fast and a cold wind had blown up. The white handkerchief fluttered and fell. Gideon’s arm jerked up and he fired, seeing a simultaneous flash from the other gun. Martlesham collapsed with a yell and Gideon stood for a moment while his brain ascertained that he had taken no hurt himself. Tossing the pistol back to Ribblestone, he strode off towards the curricle.
‘Very neatly expedited,’ said Anthony, stowing the box containing the pistols beneath the seat and scrambling up. ‘And he is not dead, so you needn’t flee the country.’
Gideon set the team in motion, glancing back just once as they drove away. Max was being helped into his carriage by Carstairs and the doctor.
‘I never intended to kill him. The bullet in his shoulder is nothing to the pain he will suffer tomorrow when the bank informs him that he no longer has any hope of touching Rainault’s fortune. Dominique and her mother will soon have control of that.’
‘And if he had hit you?’
Gideon gave a grim smile.
‘Max has been drinking all day and in this light he had little chance of hitting a house, let alone a man.’
‘What now?’ asked Ribblestone as they hurtled through the gathering gloom.
‘Back to Chalcots for a change of horses and supper, then off to Rotham.’
Anthony sat up. ‘Tonight? But it’s fifty miles!’
‘What of it? The moon will be up and I know the road.’
‘So you plan to arrive at the crack of dawn, unwashed and unshaven. That is sure to endear you to your wife.’
The jibe hit home.
‘Very well, we will stop on the road for breakfast and a change of neckcloth. Will that suit you? Damn it all, man, do not expect me to wait until the morning to set out, for there is no possibility of my sleeping tonight.’ He glanced at Anthony. ‘I want to see Dominique as soon as may be and put things right. What about you?’
What I want,’ said Anthony, with unwonted savagery, ‘is to wring Gwen’s damned neck!’
* * *
The Ribblestone carriage arrived at Rotham shortly before ten o’clock, by the light of the rising moon. It had taken some time to pack up everything Dominique thought it necessary to take with them into Buckinghamshire and they had also broken their journey in order for little James to be fed in comfort, rather than in the jolting carriage. The viscount’s household was thrown into a panic by the sudden arrival of the two ladies, together with the baby, his nurse and Mrs Albury’s maid, but Lord Rotham took one look at Dominque’s stricken countenance and immediately gave orders for rooms to be prepared with all haste. Then he carried Dominique and Gwendoline off to the drawing room, where the whole story came pouring out.
‘I cannot believe this of Gideon.’ Lord Rotham looked a question at Gwen, who shrugged, but it was Dominique who answered him.
‘He t-told me, assured me, he had no intention of seeing her, after we met by chance at the theatre.’ She pulled her damp handkerchief between her fingers. ‘And then to discover him driving through town with her—’
The viscount shook his head.
‘My son has many faults,’ he said heavily, ‘but I had not thought this of him.’
‘I wanted to wait and see what Gideon had to say for himself,’ put in Gwendoline, ‘but Dominique was desperate to get away.’
‘I c-could not stay in that house,’ cried Dominique, jumping up. ‘Not there, where we—where we...’
Her voice was suspended. She hid her face in her hands, feeling the hot tears leaking between her fingers. Gwen put an arm around her and gently eased her back on to the sofa.
‘Hush now, love. You are overwrought, and tired, too, I shouldn’t wonder.’
‘Yes, of course. So foolish of me.’ Dominique wiped her eyes. ‘I beg your pardon. And yours, too, my lord, for descending upon you in this way, b-but I could not think where else to go.’
His smile was kindness itself.
‘Where else should you go? You are my son’s wife, the mother of his child. My grandson. You may remain here for as long as you wish.’
‘And—and Gideon?’
‘He will no doubt arrive here shortly, and when he does he may give his version of events. We may yet find there is a reasonable explanation.’ Dominique shook her head and he continued, ‘Well, let us wait and see what the morning brings. For now I suggest you should take a little supper and go to bed. I have also given orders for your old room to be prepared for you, Gwendoline. It is too late for you to be going to Fairlawns.’
‘Thank you, Papa, but I do not want to burden you. Mrs Ellis mentioned another visitor—’
‘Yes, Mr Rogers arrived earlier, but that need not concern you tonight.’
* * *
Gently but firmly he shepherded them into the care of the kindly housekeeper, who took them off to the oak parlour and plied them with hot soup and bread and butter. Dominique managed to force down a few mouthfuls before retiring to her room. Unhappiness wrapped itself around her like a cloak, but she was so bone-weary that thankfully, almost as soon as she slid between the warmed sheets, she was asleep.
* * *
Dominique awoke early the following morning, but was in no mood for company, so she spent an hour with little James before making her way downstairs to the breakfast room. Gwendoline and the viscount were already seated there, together with a gentleman in a brown wig and plain brown coat.
‘Mr Rogers.’ She greeted him as cheerfully as she could. ‘I am very glad to see you, sir.’
‘And I you, Mrs Albury,’ he returned. ‘Especially so, since my business with the viscount concerns you.’
Her worries were momentarily forgotten. ‘You have news of my father?’
‘Pray do not raise your hopes too high,’ Lord Rotham warned her. ‘We should discuss this in my study after breakfast.’
‘Oh, please tell me now,’ she begged him. ‘I cannot bear for you to keep me in suspense—and I am sure there can be nothing that Gwendoline should not hear.’ She laid a hand on her father-in-law’s arm, saying again, ‘Pray, my lord, tell me now. Any news will be welcome after all these years.’
‘First let me pour you a little coffee,’ said Gwen, suiting the action to the words. ‘And take some bread and butter, Dominique. You may eat it while Mr Rogers talks.’
The lawyer dabbed at his dry lips with the napkin.
‘Well, if Lord Rotham has no objection...?’ The viscount signalled to him to continue and the lawyer twisted slightly in his chair to address Dominique. ‘I have information about your father, madam, and because it is of such importance I thought it best to come in person to discuss it with Lord Rotham.’
‘Monsieur Rainault is alive!’ cried Gwen, clapping her hands.
‘Exactly, Lady Ribblestone. That is, he was still alive at the time of the last communication,’ amended Mr Rogers with typical lawyer’s caution. He turned again to Dominique. ‘As you know, Lord Rotham took an interest in this affair last year and he put me in touch with certain parties in France, relatives of his late brother-in-law, the Duc du Chailly. We have had to proceed very carefully. France is full of spies ready to expose anyone they think wishes to overturn the new order. However, with patience and perseverance we located your father. He was being held in a remote prison under a false name. We can only surmise that he assumed this identity in an effort to flee the country.’
‘That explains why Maman’s efforts to trace him failed,’ said Dominique, adding darkly, ‘Those that were not thwarted by my cousin.’
‘Quite.’ Mr Rogers nodded. ‘My last communication from France arrived early Monday morning and I set off directly for Rotham. Our “friends” in France secured your father’s release, madam, but even then it was not safe to make this information public. Your father’s moderate views were well known and would not be popular with the present government. I was reluctant to apply for papers to bring your father from France as it would alert the authorities.’
‘Yes, yes, I quite see that,’ said Dominique eagerly. ‘So what can we do?’
‘We will smuggle him into England,’ the viscount told her. ‘I shall send a man to France to fetch him home to you.’ He smiled. ‘How we are to achieve that is best kept a secret. Mr Rogers and I will go away now to thrash out the details and leave you and Gwendoline to finish your breakfast.’
‘Well,’ declared Gwen, when the men had departed, ‘that at least is good news for you, my dear.’
‘I can hardly believe it, after all this time.’ Dominique shook her head. ‘I shall take little James into the village later to tell Maman. It will deflect her attention from my own situation.’
‘Ah, yes.’ Gwen paused, crumbling a piece of bread between her fingers while she chose her words. ‘Perhaps Papa is right and Gideon has a good reason for what happened yesterday.’
Dominique put up her hands.
‘Do you not think I have gone over and over it in my mind? He told me I had nothing to fear from Agnes Bennet. And then, at breakfast yesterday, do you remember how he asked where we would be shopping and could we call into Irwin’s? Why did he not call in himself, if he was going into town? No, it was all a ploy to keep us from Piccadilly.’
‘It is all the fault of your horrid cousin,’ exclaimed Gwen, getting up from the table.
‘Perhaps, but he could not force Gideon to meet with her, could he? And he certainly had no hand in Gideon’s taking her up in his curricle.’ Dominique drew a long, angry breath. ‘I thought I could make him l-love me, but no. He might take his p-pleasure with me occasionally, but it is Agnes who owns his heart, and he can never forget that I am the p-penniless daughter of a F-Frenchman. And even if he could,’ she said, angry colour returning to her cheeks, ‘I cannot forgive him for deceiving me!’
‘So what will you say to him, when he comes?’
Dominique’s spurt of temper died away.
‘I really do not know,’ she said despondently.
‘Well, you had best think of something now,’ said Gwen, looking out of the window. ‘Gideon’s curricle is at the door. And—oh, heavens, he has Anthony with him!’
Dominique had jumped up as soon as Gwen spoke and now she stood beside her sister-in-law, staring out through the leaded glass. Her throat dried. She had run away from Gideon, taken his child. How angry he would be about that. Her Gallic blood surged furiously through her veins. If anyone had a right to be angry it was she—after all, he had deceived her, lied to her, and that was unforgivable.
There was the low rumble of voices in the hall. She reached for Gwen’s hand and together they turned to face the door.
