Читать книгу Silk And Seduction Bundle 2 - Louise Allen, Christine Merrill - Страница 17

Monty knew, the moment he set foot in his father’s study, why he had been summoned. The doctor’s gloating expression said it all, even before the earl offered his congratulations.

Dr Cottee bustled over with a glass of what looked like the best brandy in his hands. His father lifted his own glass towards him in salute.

‘To the Claremont heir,’ said the earl with blatant satisfaction. For once, the faint tint of disapproval that always hovered at the back of his eyes was entirely absent.

Monty mechanically swallowed the contents of his glass and sat down heavily in the nearest chair.

‘You know I thought you had made a mistake, marrying that girl, given her family history,’ said the earl. ‘For a long time, everyone believed Lady Framlingham was barren. You are most fortunate that she has not inherited that particular weakness. But,’ he continued, a peevish tone creeping back into his voice, ‘there still remains the question of whether she will be able to carry a son to full term. Her mother was singularly unsuccessful in that respect.’

The doctor got to his feet, folded his hands over his ample stomach and adopted what Monty supposed he thought was a professional demeanour.

‘We will need to be extremely careful of her ladyship’s health.’

Monty felt all his fears from the night before swarm up and wrap their determined fingers round his throat.

‘You have to put a stop to her careering all over the estate with those boys,’ snapped the earl. ‘Especially on that damned horse! Most capricious beast in the stables!’

Monty had a vision of Midge’s body flying through the air, to land with a sickening thud on the turf whilst Misty galloped off into the distance.

‘No more riding.’ He nodded. ‘Definitely no more riding.’

‘Also—’ the doctor cleared his throat ‘—it has not escaped our notice that you and she engage in marital relations with rather exceptional frequency.’

Monty hung onto his temper with grim determination. It felt as though the doctor had been spying on him! And what the devil did he mean by all this ‘we’ business?

‘That will have to cease, of course,’ said the doctor.

Much as he would have liked to tell the doctor it was no damned business of his how often he made love with his own wife, concern for Midge’s health prompted him to ask, ‘Are you saying it would be dangerous to continue?’

‘In the early stages of pregnancy,’ the doctor replied, ‘any woman, no matter what her background, is particularly vulnerable to the risk of miscarriage. We would not wish to do anything that might jeopardize her health, or that of the heir, would we?’ Dr Cottee then went on, at interminable length, about exactly what was, and what was not permissible for a woman in ‘a delicate condition’ to do.

‘Naturally, I do not wish to do anything that might harm the unborn babe,’ Monty snapped, though he refused to assume, as they were doing, that the child Midge was carrying was the male heir his father longed for. It might very well be a girl. He had a brief, intense vision of a pretty little thing with a thatch of unruly hair and a sunny smile, just like her mother’s.

‘Then you must make sure she behaves herself from now on,’ bit out the earl.

Yes. Midge would never forgive herself if anything happened to her baby, because of any carelessness on her part.

‘Then if you will excuse me,’ he said, slamming the empty glass on the table and getting to his feet, ‘I shall go up to her straight away.’

He stalked to the door without waiting for his father’s permission to leave. Midge was pregnant. He had made her pregnant. So now it was his duty to keep both her and the baby safe.

Poor Midge. It was not going to be easy for a girl with so much energy to sit about all day, which was what the doctor’s strictures would mean. He seemed to think the most strenuous thing she ought to do was take a brief stroll through the gardens. And as for him…he strode along the corridor that led back to the west wing, his brows creased into a scowl as he envisaged the torture of retiring to his lonely bed, which would seem far more empty now that she had shared it with him. He was going to spend night after night pacing the boards or wracked with the nightmares her soft and fragrant presence had kept at bay.

Hell, never mind the nights! How on earth was he going to keep his hands off her during the daytime?

Well, somehow he was going to have to find a way, if that was what it took to protect her.

He gritted his teeth as he thrust open the door to their suite, already mourning the loss of the intimacy that had made such a difference to his formerly bleak existence.

Midge’s eyes widened with apprehension when she caught sight of the expression on his face.

‘No need to look like that, Midge,’ he snapped. ‘It’s not the end of the world.’ Only the end of the freedoms they had enjoyed. ‘I have just come from my father. Dr Cottee has confirmed my suspicion that you are going to have a baby.’

Midge glowered up at him. What had he got to look so irritated about? He had not been the one to undergo the most intimate and embarrassing examination any doctor could devise for a female patient. The moment Dr Cottee had left the room, she’d called for hot water so she could wash the feel of his slimy hands from her body.

It was only once she was fully clothed, when the feeling of revulsion had abated somewhat, that it occurred to her that he had not told her what the result of that examination had been. She had already been feeling hurt by the way Monty had left her to sleep alone, yet again, and puzzled by the way the news of her possible pregnancy had affected him. It was a further humiliation to find that the doctor had informed both the earl and her husband before anyone considered she had a right to know what was going on inside her own body!

Monty’s eyes narrowed on her resentful expression. It was a far cry from the way wives of his fellow officers had looked whenever one of them had discovered they were increasing.

But then, women only married serving soldiers if they loved them enough to endure all the privations that following the drum entailed.

And Midge had never felt that way about him.

Theirs was not a love match. Far from it. He had bullied her into marrying him, selfishly wrenching her from that other man, the one she did care for!

No wonder she did not look radiant at the prospect of bearing his child.

A chill descended on him as he recalled an episode from his childhood.

His mother had been chatting with one of her bosom friends. She had startled him by throwing one arm around his shoulder and, for the only time that he could recall, kissing him on the forehead. ‘How glad I am you are a boy,’ she had said, mystifying him. To her friend, she had then added, her lip curling, ‘Now the earl has his spare, lest anything should happen to his precious heir, I have no need to carry on with that tiresome aspect of this marriage.’

He felt short of breath. Something seemed to squeeze around the region of his heart.

No, dammit! Midge was nothing like his mother. She enjoyed making love with him. She did not regard having his child as a duty to be endured.

Did she?

Thrusting his fingers through his hair, he stalked over to the window and gazed moodily out.

‘You may not go riding any more. The doctor has forbidden it. No strenuous exercise of any sort,’ he finished bitterly, though he was now half-convinced that particular stricture was going to be harder for him to bear than for her.

As he spoke of horses, his eyes automatically followed the track that led round to the stables. And he saw his way out.

‘I am going to London,’ he declared, giving the window frame a thump.

It was extremely unhealthy for a man to be so totally obsessed with his wife. Getting breathless because he feared she might not care for him the way he cared for her! If he dithered about here much longer, he might find himself in the humiliating position of falling to his knees and begging for her love!

He heard her get to her feet.

‘I am so glad.’

He could hear the smile in her voice without having to look at her.

‘When do we leave?’

‘I said I am going to London,’ he said icily, turning round and glaring at her. ‘Not you. You are to stay here and rest.’

The hurt look on her face almost had him weakening. Ruthlessly, he quashed the feeling.

The only way to preserve both her health and his sanity was to put a substantial distance between them. It would be madness to come anywhere near her again until he had got his feelings under better control. Better for her too. She would have a few days to get used to the idea of bearing the child of a man she…

A fresh wave of pain surged through him.

‘Do not argue with me!’ he snapped, as she took a breath to do just that. ‘And do not think you can do as you please once I am gone. You are not to go out riding any more, do you hear me? And for the Lord’s sake, don’t let those demon twins lure you into any scrapes, either.’

He stopped short of relating the lecture that Dr Cottee had just given him. He had no intention of frightening her. He could already tell, by the look on her face, simply discovering she was pregnant was quite enough of a burden for now.

Midge sank back onto the sofa again, as though all the wind had been knocked out of her.

‘I understand,’ she said. ‘I give you my word that after you have gone, I will not go out riding again or get in any scrapes with your brothers.’

‘Dammit, Midge,’ he began, instantly full of remorse for having hurt her. But then she lifted her chin and stared at him with such hostility that he bit back the apology.

Instead, he turned on his heel and stalked from the room, before he did what no man with an ounce of pride would ever do.

Get down on his knees and grovel at a woman’s feet.

Midge would never understand men.

Yesterday, Monty had seemed pleased to think she might be carrying his child. But then his face had changed, and he had left the bedroom abruptly. Since then, he seemed unwilling to come anywhere near her.

He had been downright cross when he had told her he was going to London without her.

And then, this evening at dinner, while everyone else had been showering her with congratulations, he had looked positively gloomy.

Even the earl had unbent towards her enough to ask if there was anything he might do for her. When she had seized the opportunity to beg him to consider sending the boys to school, she had thought Monty would have been grateful. He was always saying he wanted them to have the education that was being denied them at Shevington. But when the earl, with a slightly mocking smile, had said he would grant her request, Monty had carried on staring balefully into his soup plate.

He had not risen from the table when she had, and though she had waited for him in their sitting room for hours, he had not come up to her. Eventually, when she heard the village church clock strike midnight, she had decided she might as well go to bed.

Her own. It was obvious by then that he was deliberately avoiding her. Nor had it taken all that long to work out why Monty did not want her to go to London with him. He knew her propensity for getting into scrapes. If he was going to get involved in politics, the last thing he needed was a wife who was a social embarrassment. The way he had lectured her about keeping out of trouble here at Shevington had hammered home what a liability he considered her.

But as the night wore on, her feelings of self-pity burned down along with her candle. As the new day began to dawn, so did her sense of resentment. Could he not at least have offered her his congratulations? After all, the whole purpose of marrying her had been to provide him with an heir. She had fulfilled her side of the bargain, and he ought to be grateful!

And what, exactly, was she supposed to do while he was in London being incredibly important? At least in London, there would be people she could visit.

There was nobody she could talk to at Shevington except the twins! And he had made her promise she would not ride out with them once he had left.

Not that he had left yet. She had not heard the coach being brought round. And it had to pass right underneath her window on its route from the stables to the front door.

Her heart thudding, she swung her legs out of bed, grabbed her dressing gown, tiptoed across their shared sitting room and laid her ear to the door of his room. She could hear somebody moving about. It sounded as though Monty was either getting dressed or his valet was packing up his gear. In either case, it meant he had not left yet.

She had just raised her hand to knock on his door, so that she might at least clear the air between them before he left, when a wave of nausea struck her. She took a deep breath, determined to fight it down. She wanted to bid him farewell in a dignified fashion. And determine whether it really was anything she had done that had put him in such a foul mood yesterday. He did have an awful lot of other problems, besides being married to a woman who was a walking disaster area. She wanted to tell him that…she gulped. With her head held high, she was going to tell him—

It was no use! She was going to be sick! Hitching her nightdress up with one hand and keeping the other clamped firmly over her mouth, she ran to her room.

She made it to her bedroom just in time, grabbing the chamber pot from beneath the bed, and heaving wretchedly into it for what seemed like an eternity. What eventually got her to her feet was the sound of carriage wheels passing under her window. To her dismay, she realized that Monty was leaving.

Leaving without even bothering to bid her farewell.

Her legs gave out under her, and she sank into a disconsolate heap on the floor. That one night he had permitted her to sleep in his arms had meant nothing to him at all! He did not care. He truly did not care.

She did not think she had ever felt so wretched in her life.

The feeling of wretchedness stayed with her all morning. Pansy advised her, with a worldly-wise air, that some dry toast would make her feel better. And it did help settle her stomach. But no amount of toast could soothe a heart that was so badly bruised.

She did not even have the prospect of a ride out with the twins to cheer her up. She watched, enviously, from the window as they cantered away from the house on their scraggy little ponies, without so much as a backward glance.

The morning dragged interminably. She tried to read a book, but it could not hold her attention. She cast it onto the sofa cushions, and trailed to the windows to gaze longingly towards the woods where she knew the boys were playing. She was going to have to find some kind of sedentary occupation to while away the months of her confinement, she realized, or she would go mad. Already, she was marking off the time until lunch would be served. And longing for the arrival of the mail.

It could not do any harm, surely, if she just went for a walk? The day was so mild. And, if she was not permitted to ride, at least she could go by the stables and visit Misty.

The prospect of getting out of the room that was beginning to feel like a cage, after only one morning, lifted her spirits no end. She paused to grab a shawl and drape it round her shoulders, so that nobody could accuse her of not taking proper care of herself, took an apple from the fruit bowl to console Misty for not being able to go out and get some exercise, and set off down the stairs.

She was going along the corridor that led past the estate offices, when one of the side doors flew open, and the earl emerged, looking thunderous.

‘What do you think you are doing down here?’

She had never seen him with so much colour in his face. Not that it made him look any healthier than normal.

‘I am just on my way to the stables,’ she said, tugging her shawl more tightly round her shoulders.

‘Thought you could sneak past me, did you? Flouting my authority by going riding though I have forbidden it!’ He bore down on her, his eyes glittering with rage. ‘Sly! Like all women! The minute your husband’s back is turned, you think you may do just as you please! But you won’t get away with it. I shall have the staff watching your every movement!’

It was a shock to see him act like this. Though Monty had described him as almost apoplectic with rage over a disagreement they’d had, she had assumed he must have been exaggerating.

‘No,’ she said in what she hoped was a soothing tone, and holding out the apple she had picked up for Misty, ‘I was just going to…’

‘The apple never falls very far from the tree, does it!’ he said, before she could explain she had no intention of going for a ride. ‘You are the product of the most notorious couple of my day. And you are just like them. Lascivious. Leaving trails of clothing all over the house. Luring your husband into the stables, so he can satisfy your itch in broad daylight!’

Midge was so shocked by the way the earl was berating her, the spittle flying from his mouth, that she simply backed away, open-mouthed. No wonder people put up with his cold, sarcastic moods, she thought as she fetched up against the wall, if crossing him could result in a scene like this.

‘Mildenhall is a fool if he thinks you will not find some way to amuse yourself while he is in London setting up a mistress. Sauce for the goose, that is what women like you say, is it not? Plotting to get one of the stable lads to stand in for your husband, are you?’

She gasped in outrage, but the earl gave her no chance to refute the wild accusation.

‘That is why I advised him only to marry a woman he could not possibly fall in love with. To spare him this sort of pain!’

He might just as well have struck her.

‘He is not,’ she cried, ‘setting up a mistress!’

The earl flung back his head and laughed. ‘Of course he is. Did you think a man like him could stomach staying down here, servicing a plain little baggage like you, when there are pretty women available in town? I told him so long as he married, and provided Shevington with an heir, I would frank his purchase of whatever woman he really wanted. Deserves his reward for doing his duty to the Claremont line,’ he finished on a sneer.

‘You are poisonous!’ she gasped. Even if all he said was true, to fling it in her face like this was downright cruel.

‘How dare you speak to me like that!’ he hissed. ‘Get back to your room!’ He pointed down the corridor, and Midge, frightened by the malevolence that burned in his eyes, fled like a startled rabbit.

She did not stop running till she was safely in her room with the door shut firmly behind her. The man was unhinged! She had always wondered how on earth he could treat Monty and the twins so unkindly. Now she wondered if it was this kind of irrational behaviour that had driven his third wife into those affairs she was famous for having. Or whether he had imagined them all in some fit of insane jealousy!

And as for what he had said about Monty’s reasons for leaving…they could not be true!

They just couldn’t!

And yet, had she not always wondered why he was so reluctant to stay in her bed all night? He had let her think it was on account of the nightmares, but the minute there was a suspicion she might be pregnant…oh! She sank to the sofa, covering her face with her hands. Had he always looked on making love with her as a performance of his duty to the Claremont line? He had certainly ceased performing the minute Dr Cottee had confirmed there was no need for him to bother any more! And now that he had got her pregnant, he was off to London to find a pretty woman as a reward for having done his duty to the family name.

No wonder Monty had protested so vigorously when she had suggested accompanying him to London! It would be harder to trawl for a pretty mistress with a pregnant wife in tow.

Not that it had ever stopped her father.

She sat up straight, wondering what on earth possessed her to make excuses for Monty, even as he was on the verge of being unfaithful to her. What kind of idiot appreciated her husband for his discretion in setting up his mistress?

One who had always known he was far too good for her. One who had gone into this marriage knowing he was never likely to fall in love with her. One who…was about to be sick!

She retreated to her bedroom and her chamber pot, and when the maid came up with her lunch tray, almost ordered the girl to just take it away. She was in no fit state to swallow a single mouthful.

Though she was glad she had not done so when the twins came in a short time later. They took one look at the loaded tray and began to help themselves to her untouched sandwiches, stuffing some into their mouths and some into their pockets for later.

How often must they have been on the receiving end of one of the earl’s tantrums? Many times, probably. She only had to think of the dread with which they had regarded him the day they had brought their pets into the house. No wonder they spent almost all their time out of doors or hobnobbing with the lower servants!

She tried to raise a smile for them, but it was an effort.

And the boys noticed.

‘We know you’re going to have a baby,’ said Tobe, his disdainful gaze flicking down to her stomach.

‘And that you don’t want us here any more,’ said Jem, resentfully.

‘Oh, no!’ She had not thought it was possible to feel any worse, but her heart sank as she realized the earl must have told them he was going to send them to school in such a cruel way that they believed it was some kind of punishment. She stretched out her hands, wanting to explain, but as one, they backed away from her.

‘We only came to pass on a message from that friend of yours.’

‘The one on the black horse.’

‘He came smash up to us in the bluebell clearing where we showed you the badger’s set.’

‘Asked where you were. Told us to tell you he wanted to see you. And that he’s staying at the Silent Woman down at Shevington Crossroads.’

‘And then he clapped his hand to his head and went a funny colour and kind of hunched over the horse’s mane.’

‘Think he was going to be sick.’

‘Anyway, we said we’d tell you he needed to see you, and we have.’

‘But we ain’t going to do you any more favours!’

‘We thought you were our friend!’ cried Tobe angrily.

‘I am…’ she protested, but it was too late. The pair of them had dashed from the room, slamming the door behind them. She buried her head in her hands again with a groan. The twins were all that made life at Shevington bearable. She had not expected they would give up their outdoor pursuits, to sit and keep her company. But now that the earl had turned them against her, they would go out of their way to avoid her. She would not see one friendly face, from one end of the day to the next.

When Cobbett arrived with the mail, she felt as though he had thrown her a lifeline. There were still people who cared about her. Her aunt corresponded regularly, and Rick wrote when he had time. Letters from Gerry were rare, and tended to come in batches, depending on the vagaries of shipping.

Today, only a single letter lay on the silver salver. She recognized the crabbed handwriting as that of her stepbrother Nick. It was with some surprise that she broke open the wafer. This was only the second time he had written since she had come to Shevington, and that had only been a polite little missive, in which he had expressed his gratification she had married so advantageously.

But the news he had for her this time dealt her such a blow, she did not know how she could bear it, coming as it did so swiftly behind everything else that had occurred that day.

Gerry was dead. Of a fever. Nick had written as soon as he received the news, but her stepbrother, it seemed, had already been dead for several weeks.

She could hardly take it in. How could Gerry be dead? She had sent him a letter only the day before!

She let Nick’s letter drift to the carpet as the horrible truth sank in. Gerry would never read that last letter she had written to him. She would never see him again.

His life was over.

No more promotions. No more adventurous tales to enthral his little sister.

No more Gerry.

Eventually her eyes focussed on the opulent room in which she was sitting.

Alone.

There was nobody with whom she could share her grief.

Nobody who cared a rap about how she felt.

Though she had tried so hard to fit in. She had thought she was making some headway, but today she had learned just how little any of them cared about her. Today, they had all turned their backs on her, one after the other.

She had known she did not belong in the place, right from the very first moment she had set eyes on the outside of the buildings! Right from the first moment…her eyes lighted on the hideous vase squatting on the low table by the fireplace. She could not believe she had gone to such lengths to save such an ugly piece of porcelain. Or to have worked so hard to ingratiate herself with a set of people who had all let her down so badly.

Leaping to her feet, she picked up the vase that seemed to represent all that was ugly about Shevington, raised it above her head and hurled it into the hearth with a wild cry of fury.

It shattered into dozens of pieces with a resounding crash that went some way to consoling her.

But it was not enough. Not nearly enough.

Gerry was dead. Buried in some far-off land. So far away she would never have a chance to so much as lay flowers on his grave.

Even if Monty and his father ever let her set foot outside the walls of Shevington Court again! For the earl had more or less threatened to keep her imprisoned here.

She could not stand it.

The walls felt as if they were closing in on her.

Tearing at the buttons to her high-necked morning dress, she ran to the door and flung it open, half expecting to find a guard posted outside. It was almost an anticlimax to find nobody there.

She lifted her chin and strode along the corridor to the stairs. There was nothing wrong with going for a walk if she wanted! Just let anyone try and stop her!

With her fists clenched firmly, she marched right out of the front door. In spite of the earl threatening to set his staff to watch her every move, she did not encounter a single soul as she ran round the side of the house and across the neatly mown lawns. She was in such a state that she scarcely knew where she was going. It was only when the acrid scent of crushed cow parsley assailed her nostrils that she realized she had left the formal gardens altogether and was entering the fringes of the woodland. And only then did it occur to her that what she needed was to reach some spot from which the walls of Shevington would be completely invisible.

She plunged through the bracken, ducking under low branches and skirting bramble thickets, until she reached a hazel coppice. Only then did she tilt back her head and let out the scream that had been building inside her since…since…she doubled over with grief. It was all of it, coming together that had so shattered her. Not just the news of Gerry’s death, but the earl’s attack, the twins defection and Monty’s un-faithfulness, all coming so swiftly, one after another.

The clearing echoed with the panicked alarm calls of the flurry of birds which had risen en masse when she had screamed.

Then desolate silence descended through the still leafless branches.

Reminding her that she was on her own.

If only Rick were here…but he was not. His duties had carried him to a foreign land.

But even if he were here, things would never be the same between them. Not now that she had married his friend. She would never be able to confide in him completely. Not if her concerns related to Monty.

Now there was nobody, she gasped, not one soul to whom she could turn for comfort.

Nobody who cared one way or the other…

Except…She went very still.

Stephen had followed her down here. He wanted to see her.

And he was her brother. She lifted her chin and threw back her shoulders. If there was a chance, no matter how slim, that this last communication from Stephen might lead to some form of reconciliation, then she had to take it. She needed to take it. She had only avoided meeting him up till now out of respect for Monty’s wishes. But what did his good opinion matter to her now?

He had deceived her and abandoned her…oh, very well, not deceived her. Not on purpose. It was her own fault if she had assumed his kindness and for-bearance meant anything.

But in the long run, she sniffed, it might have been better for her if he had not tried to be kind to her. At least then she might not have fallen in love with him. And then his haste to leave her to find a pretty mistress as compensation for doing his repulsive duty with her might not hurt so much that she no longer cared if Stephen did plan to harm her!

Wiping her nose on the long sleeve of her dress, she cast a quick glance about the coppice, then set off in the direction she believed Shevington village lay.