Читать книгу The Regency Season: Blackmailed Brides: The Scarlet Gown / Lady Beneath the Veil - Sarah Mallory - Страница 12

Chapter Four

‘I will not cry.’

Lucy kept repeating the words to herself as she made her way back to her room. She kept her head up, teeth firmly biting into her lip to offset the bitter shame and revulsion that brought hot, angry tears to clog her throat and prickle behind her eyes.

They had been getting on so well, it had been the most perfect outing until Adversane had lifted her down and she had lost her balance. She had been exhilarated, in love with the whole world, and when she had put her hands against his chest to steady herself she had had no thought other than to laugh and apologise for being a little giddy.

Then she had looked up into his slate-grey eyes and her world had fallen apart. Her foolishly heightened sense had thought that he had taken her in his arms instead of trying to hold her upright, and she had imagined such a look that it had turned her bones to water. Instead of being able to stand up straight, she had been in even greater danger of falling over and had clutched at his coat like a drowning man might cling to a wooden spar. In her silly, dizzy brain she had thought herself a princess about to be kissed by her fairy-tale prince. That, of course, was pure foolishness. No one, absolutely no one, would ever think of the saturnine Lord Adversane as a prince.

‘At least he is not a rake,’ she muttered as she ran up the grand staircase. ‘You were standing there, looking up at him, positively inviting him to seduce you. Thankfully he is too much of a gentleman for that.’

She flinched as she remembered his reprimand, but it was justified. In fact, she would be very fortunate if he did not pack her off back to London immediately.

* * *

She went down to the drawing room before dinner in a state of nervous apprehension. When Ariadne asked her if she had enjoyed her ride, she answered yes, but hurriedly changed the subject, and when Lord Adversane came in she retired to a chair by the window and hoped that if she kept very still he would not notice her.

It seemed to work. Apart from an infinitesimal bow Lord Adversane ignored her until dinner was announced, when he gave his arm to his cousin. Lucy was left to follow on as best she might. Thankfully, Mrs Dean was never short of small talk at the dinner table. She chattered on, rarely requiring a response, while Byrne kept the wineglasses filled and oversaw the elaborate ritual of bringing in and removing a bewildering array of delectable foods. Lucy was too unhappy to be hungry and ate almost nothing from the dishes immediately before her. She was pushing a little pile of rice about her plate when Byrne appeared at her elbow with a silver tray.

He said quietly, ‘His lordship recommends the salmon in wine, miss, and begs that you will try it.’

Lucy glanced along the table. Lord Adversane was watching her, unsmiling, but when he caught her eye he gave a little nod of encouragement. She allowed the butler to spoon a little of the salmon and the sauce onto her plate. It was indeed delicious and she directed another look towards her host, hoping to convey her gratitude. Her tentative smile was received with another small but definite nod. Whether it was that, or the effects of the food, she suddenly felt a little better.

When dinner was over the ladies moved to the drawing room. Having boasted earlier of her stamina, Lucy did not feel she could retire before Lord Adversane joined them. Mrs Dean settled herself on one of the satin-covered sofas but Lucy could not sit still. To disguise her restlessness she pretended to study the room. There was plenty to occupy her: the walls were covered with old masters and the ornate carving of the overmantel was worthy of close attention. Adversane did not linger over his brandy and soon came in. He made no attempt to engage Lucy in conversation and took a seat near his cousin, politely inviting her to tell him about her day. Ariadne needed no second bidding and launched into a long and convoluted description of her activities.

It was a balmy evening, and the long windows were thrown wide, allowing the desultory birdsong to drift in on the warm air. Lucy slipped out onto the terrace. The sun was dipping but was still some way from the horizon and she could feel its heat reflecting from the stone walls of the house. The earlier breeze had dropped away and a peaceful stillness had settled over the gardens spread out before her, the statuary and flowerbeds leading the eye on to the trees in the distance and, beyond them, the faint misty edge of the high moors. Lucy drank in the scene, trying to store every detail in her memory. She suspected such summer evenings were rare in the north and she wanted to remember this one.

It was very quiet in the drawing room and she wondered perhaps if Lord Adversane had had enough of his cousin’s inconsequential chatter and retired. She stepped back into the room, and gave a little start when she realised that it was Mrs Dean who was missing. Her host was standing by the empty fireplace.

‘You are very quiet this evening, Miss Halbrook.’

She sat down and folded her hands in her lap. She must take this opportunity to say what was on her mind.

‘I was wondering, my lord, if you wished me to leave. If I go now there is still time for you to find someone else.’

‘Do you wish to go?’

She shook her head. ‘My circumstances have not changed. I am still in need of employment.’

‘And I am still in need of a fiancée. It seems logical, therefore, that we should continue.’ He paused. ‘You are smiling, Miss Halbrook. Have I said something to amuse you?’

‘You make it all sound so simple. A mere business arrangement.’

‘Which is what it is.’

She looked down at her hands.

‘But this afternoon, in the stable yard—’

‘A little misunderstanding,’ he interposed. ‘Brought on by the excitement of the ride. It will not be allowed to happen again.’

‘No, my lord?’

‘You sound sceptical.’

‘I am, a little.’ She continued, with some difficulty, ‘I know—I have been told—that when a man and a woman are thrown into a situation, when they are alone together...’

She blushed, not knowing how to go on.

‘I understand you,’ he said quietly, ‘but you have nothing of that nature to fear. Let us speak plainly, madam. I have no designs upon your virtue and no intention of seducing you.’

His blunt words should have been reassuring, but she was contrary enough to feel slighted by them. She kept her eyes lowered and heard him exhale, almost like a sigh.

‘Believe me, Miss Halbrook, you will be quite safe here. I can assure you that even strong passions can be assuaged with hard work and exercise. And if not... Well, for a man at least there are establishments that cater for his needs.’ Lucy bent her head even more to hide her burning cheeks. He continued after an infinitesimal pause, ‘But perhaps that is a little too much plain speaking, and a subject not suited to a young lady’s ears.’

‘Not at all. I value your honesty, sir.’

She had not raised her head and now she heard his soft footsteps approaching. She looked up to find him standing over her.

‘And I value yours. You are a sensible young woman, which is what I require in my hostess. A simple business transaction, Miss Halbrook. Can you manage that?’

She did not answer immediately. It should be easy, he made it sound so reasonable. Yet some instinct urged caution. She stifled it. If Lord Adversane could approach this in a logical fashion, then she could, too. After taking a few deep breaths she straightened her shoulders.

‘Yes, my lord, I can.’

* * *

A simple business transaction.

The words echoed around Lucy’s head when she lay in her bed through the dark reaches of the night. She could do this. The remuneration was worth a little sacrifice, surely. And if she was honest, the only sacrifice was that she should not allow herself to flirt with Lord Adversane. He roused in her a girlish spirit that had no place in her life now. When he was near she wanted to tease him, to make him laugh and drive away the sombre look that too often haunted his eyes. But his sorrow was none of her concern and she must be careful not to compromise herself.

‘I must not be alone with him, that is all,’ she told herself.

Surely that was no very arduous task when he had even brought in Ariadne to act as chaperone. All she had to do was to live like a lady in this beautiful house for another few weeks and she would walk away with more money than she could earn in a year. She turned over and cradled her cheek in her hand, finally falling asleep while engaged in the delightful task of thinking just what she might do with such a sum.

* * *

Lucy awoke to another brilliantly sunny day. Her spirits were equally bright. For a while, yesterday, she had thought she would be leaving all this luxury behind. Instead, she had a delectable prospect ahead of her. A visit from the dressmaker.

* * *

‘Byrne, where is Lord Adversane?’

Miss Halbrook’s enquiry echoed around the stone walls of the Great Hall. If the butler noted her flushed cheeks or the martial light in her eye he showed no sign of it and calmly informed her that she would find his lordship with Mr Colne.

It took Lucy a little time to find the steward’s office for she had not before entered the service wing of the house, but the delay did nothing to cool her temper. She knocked briefly and walked in without waiting for a response.

Lord Adversane and Mr Colne were standing by a large table, studying a plan of the estate.

‘I would like to speak to you, my lord,’ she said without preamble.

He raised his brows.

‘Can it not wait?’ One look at her face gave him his answer. He turned to Mr Colne. ‘Harry, will you go on to the stables and have the horses saddled? I will join you in five minutes.’ As the door closed behind the steward he leaned back against the table. ‘Very well, Miss Halbrook, what is it you want to say to me?’

‘It concerns the dressmaker.’

He glanced at the clock. ‘Has she not arrived?’

‘Oh, yes, she is here, my lord. She informs me that you have given her instructions—precise instructions—on the gowns she is to provide, down to the very colours and fabrics to be used.’

‘What of it?’

‘What—?’ She stared at him. ‘It is usual, my lord, for ladies to make their own decisions on what they wear.’

‘Do you not like the colours?’

‘That is not the point—’

‘And are the gowns too unfashionable for you?’

‘Not at all, but—’

‘Then I really do not see the problem.’

Lucy drew in a long and angry breath.

‘The problem,’ she said, with great emphasis, ‘is that I have no choice. I am to be measured and pinned and fitted like a—like a doll!’

‘Surely not.’ He picked up his hat and gloves from a side table. ‘I have no doubt Mrs Sutton will ask your opinion on trimmings and beads and so forth.’

‘Minor details!’

‘But it must suffice.’

He began to move towards the door and she stepped in front of him.

‘What you do not understand—’

‘What you do not understand,’ he interrupted her curtly, ‘is that this discussion is ended.’

She glared at him. ‘When I accused you of high-handedness yesterday, my lord, I did not think it would go so far!’

He fixed her with a steely gaze and addressed her in an equally chilling voice.

‘Miss Halbrook, remember that I am paying you very well for your time here. If I wish you to wear certain colours and styles of gown while you are under my roof then you will do so. Do I make myself clear?’

He was towering over her, as unyielding as granite. The cleft in his chin was more deeply defined than ever and there was no softness about him, not even in the grey wool of his riding jacket. He would not give in; she knew that from the implacable look in his eyes, but she would not look away, and as their gazes remained locked together she found other sensations replacing her anger.

Such as curiosity. What it would be like to kiss that firm mouth, to have his arms around her, to force him to bend to the will of her own passion...

Shocked and a little frightened by her thoughts, Lucy stepped back and dragged her eyes away from that disturbing gaze. There must be no repeat of yesterday. He must not think she was trying in any way to entice him. Better to summon up the resentment that had brought her here in the first place.

‘You have made yourself very clear, my lord.’

She ground out the words, staring at the floor, but he put his fingers under her chin and obliged her to look at him again.

He said softly, ‘I am not an ogre, Miss Halbrook. I have my reasons for this, believe me.’ He held her eyes for a moment longer before releasing her. He went to the door and opened it. ‘Now go back upstairs and continue being—ah—fitted and pinned. You are going to have more new clothes than you can count. When this is over you may take them all away with you. Most women would be delighted with the prospect.’

She found she was trembling. Despising her own weakness, Lucy dragged together her pride and managed to say with creditable calm, ‘I am not most women, my lord.’

‘No.’ His mouth twisted into a wry smile as she stalked out of the room. ‘No, you are not, Miss Halbrook.’

* * *

Lucy went back to the morning room where Mrs Dean and the dressmaker were engaged in discussing fabric samples and looking through the portfolio of drawings that Mrs Sutton had brought with her. She was shaken by her encounter with Lord Adversane, and a little chastened, too. He was, after all, her employer, and quite within his rights to dictate what she should wear. A little spirit flared to argue that it would have been better if he had explained all this at the outset, but it was a very tiny spark and soon died.

She gave herself up to the task of looking at the various designs and samples of fabrics. She soon discovered—as she had known all along, if only she had thought about it—that she did indeed have a degree of freedom in the choice of ribbons and trimmings to be added to each gown. By the end of the session her head was spinning with all the talk of closed robes, morning and day dresses, walking dresses and evening gowns, as well as the pelisses, cloaks and shawls required to go with them. Also—a last-minute addition that Lord Adversane had ordered in a note, delivered hotfoot to the dressmaker yesterday evening—a riding habit.

* * *

Although she knew she had no real choice, Lucy nodded and approved all the samples and sketches put before her. They were without exception elegant creations, not overly burdened with frills and ribbons, which suited her very well. As the dressmaker and her assistant began packing away the drifts of muslin, samples of fine wool, worsted and sarcenet, Lucy spotted a large square of red silk. She picked it up.

‘What is this?’

Mrs Sutton looked around and gave a little tut of exasperation.

‘Heavens, miss, as if I should forget that!’ She pulled out the sheaf of loose papers again and selected a coloured drawing, which she handed to Lucy. ‘Lord Adversane was most insistent that you should have this gown.’

Lucy gazed at the impossibly slender figure in the painting. She was swathed in red silk, the high waistline and low neck leaving little to the imagination.

‘It is shown exactly as his lordship directed,’ said Mrs Sutton, waiting anxiously for Lucy’s reaction. ‘Even to the diamond set of earrings, necklace and bracelet.’

‘Scarlet and diamonds.’ Lucy pictured herself in such a gown, the jewels sparkling in the candlelight, her skirts floating about her as she danced around the ballroom. ‘Very striking but...it is not suitable for an unmarried lady. What say you, Ariadne?’ She handed the picture to Mrs Dean, who stared at it in silence. ‘Ariadne?’

The widow gave a little start.

‘Oh, I do not...’ She tailed off again, her troubled glance fixed upon the drawing.

‘It is far too grand for me to wear,’ Lucy continued. ‘If we were in London, perhaps, but here in the country, what use can I have for such a creation?’

‘Unless Adversane means to invite the neighbourhood,’ murmured Ariadne.

Lucy frowned. ‘Why should he do that?’

Ariadne made a visible effort to pull herself together, saying robustly, ‘I suppose he thought you must have it. Who knows what invitations you might receive? And everyone wears such colours these days. You will not always want to be wearing those pale muslins, now will you? And I recognise the diamonds. They are a family heirloom. As Ralph’s fiancée I have no doubt he will wish you to wear them.’

‘Yes, of course.’ Lucy dismissed her doubts, relieved by Mrs Dean’s approval of the scarlet gown. To appear in public so beautifully apparelled was every girl’s dream. And what did it matter that it was all a sham, a charade? It would be a wonderful memory for her to take away with her.

* * *

When the dressmaker had departed Ariadne carried Lucy off to the shrubbery, declaring that one needed to clear one’s head after being bombarded with so much detail.

‘I must confess,’ she added, as they strolled arm in arm along the gravelled paths, ‘when you went off so angrily I thought I should be sending Mrs Sutton away and ordering the carriage to take you back to London forthwith.’

Lucy’s free hand fluttered.

‘It was foolish of me to allow such a little thing to make me angry. I assure you, I never had any intention of leaving over such a matter.’

‘Oh, no, my dear, I was not thinking of your intentions. I thought Ralph might order you to go. I thought he would call a halt to this whole business—not that that would be a bad thing.’ She muttered these last words almost to herself and when she found Lucy’s considering gaze upon her she coloured and said, as if in apology, ‘My cousin is not used to having his will crossed.’

‘I am well aware of that. Autocratic to the point of tyranny!’

‘But he is not a bad man, Lucy. It is just that... You should understand, my dear, that he was the only surviving male child, and much loved. Although he was brought up on strict principles he was allowed to go his own way from an early age. I suppose you might say he was too much indulged—’

‘I should,’ put in Lucy emphatically.

‘But he was not rebellious, you see, so his sainted parents never needed to curb him. They had him late in life, too, which I think made them a little more inclined to spoil him, and then, of course, they were carried off within weeks of each other by a vicious bout of influenza, and he inherited the title soon after he was one-and-twenty. From being a carefree young man he suddenly found himself with half a dozen estates and hundreds of people dependent upon him. And things were not so comfortable as they are now. The old lord had spent so much on improvements to Adversane that the finances were severely stretched when Ralph took over. He has had to struggle to rebuild the family fortunes. He needed a steady nerve and a firm hand on the reins to bring it back to prosperity. He demanded that everything should be done his way and it has worked. The fortune is restored.’

‘But he rules his household with a will of iron,’ objected Lucy.

‘All the Cottinghams are strong-willed, my dear, and as the heir and only son, Ralph’s will has never been opposed. Is it any wonder that he has grown used to his own way? That was why his marriage to Helene was so fortuitous. She was all compliance and perfectly suited to his temperament.’

‘Perfectly suited to make him even more despotic,’ declared Lucy. ‘The poor lady must have been wholly downtrodden.’

Ariadne quickly disclaimed.

‘He never bullied her, I am quite certain of it. But then, Helene was so very sweet-natured, I doubt she ever gave him cause to be angry.’

‘Well,’ said Lucy, thinking of the small sum she had sewn into the hem of her travelling cloak, ‘Lord Adversane may be as autocratic and demanding as he wishes, but I shall not allow him to bully me, and so I shall tell him!’

* * *

However, Lucy had no opportunity to tell Lord Adversane anything that evening, for when she joined Mrs Dean in the drawing room before dinner she learned that their host had gone off to visit friends and would not be back for two days. The news left her feeling a little disconsolate and she gave a little huff of exasperation.

‘And how am I supposed to learn everything I need to know if he is not here?’

‘My dear, no one will expect you to know everything about Ralph,’ replied Mrs Dean, looking amused. ‘In fact, I doubt anyone could do that.’

‘I beg your pardon, Ariadne, it is just that... Well, I had worked myself up to challenge him about his high-handed ways and now I feel a little...cheated.’

‘You enjoy confronting him?’

Her shocked expression made Lucy smile.

‘I like matters out in the open wherever possible.’

She thought of her uncle’s unwanted attentions and felt a little guilty that she had not brought that out into the open, but it would have caused too much distress to her mother and her aunt. Lucy had every reason to be discreet in that case. Lord Adversane, however, was another matter entirely. She added a little pugnaciously, ‘If that means confronting your cousin, I will not shirk from it.’

‘Then perhaps it is as well Ralph is away, or we should see the sparks fly,’ retorted Mrs Dean, chuckling. ‘Never mind, my dear, there is plenty for us to do. You can help me with the arrangements for the forthcoming house party. The guests have already been invited, of course—Ralph has seen to that—but there are the rooms to be allocated, furniture to be arranged, menus to be planned.’

‘And just who is invited, Ariadne?’

‘Well, there are Ralph’s two sisters and their husbands,’ said Mrs Dean, counting them off on her fingers. ‘Adam Cottingham—Ralph’s cousin and heir—and his wife, or course. And Sir James and Lady Preston.’

‘Do you mean the late Lady Adversane’s parents? But surely they will not wish to come to Adversane—’

‘Oh, yes, they will! They are even bringing their daughter Charlotte with them.’

‘But—do they know, about me?’

‘Oh, lord, yes. Ralph told them himself when he invited them to come and stay.’

‘And they still accepted his invitation?’

‘Yes. I doubt they hesitated for a moment.’ She patted Lucy’s arm. ‘I do not think I am speaking out of turn if I tell you that the Prestons virtually threw Helene at Adversane. They wanted her to marry well. Lady Preston would have preferred a higher title, perhaps, but the Cottinghams are an old family. Their line goes back to the Conqueror. And besides that, Ralph’s wealth made him a very acceptable parti.’

Lucy frowned. ‘But surely they will not be comfortable staying here, knowing what happened two years ago.’

‘As to that, they must feel it, of course, as we all do, but life must go on. Ralph’s sisters are already pressing him to marry again, which is why he has installed you here. And I hear even Lord Preston has been hinting that young Charlotte could fill her sister’s shoes.’

‘But that is monstrous.’

‘It is hard-headed sense,’ replied Ariadne drily. ‘Preston will naturally want to maintain his connection with Adversane, if he can.’

Byrne came in to tell them that dinner awaited them and no more was said that evening about the house guests, but Lucy thought she understood a little better now just why Adversane had hired her.

* * *

The following days were spent in preparations for the forthcoming house party. Ariadne took Lucy on a tour of the east wing, preparatory to allocating the guest rooms. There was also a trip to Ingleston to buy additional gloves and slippers to go with all her new clothes. It was like being caught up in a very pleasant whirlwind, thought Lucy. She loved being busy and happily threw herself into all the arrangements. She discussed menus with the housekeeper and accepted the gardener’s invitation to show her around the gardens and select the flowers she would require for the house. Lucy discovered that the staff was eager and willing to help, and once she had accustomed herself to the thought that she was regarded as the next Lady Adversane she found she could work very well with them all. It was impossible for Lucy not to enjoy herself, but at the back of her mind was the realisation that this would not last. At some point she would have to leave Adversane.

She pondered the idea as she sat at her open bedroom window, where the night air was scented with summer flowers.

‘And when that day comes I shall go with many happy memories,’ she told herself, smiling up at the sliver of moon suspended in the clear sky. ‘Until then, I shall continue to enjoy every minute of my stay here!’

* * *

Lord Adversane returned the following afternoon. His arrival coincided with the first delivery from the dressmaker. He walked into the morning room to find Lucy and his cousin surrounded by a chaotic jumble of gowns and boxes and tissue paper.

‘Ralph, my dear, you are back!’ Ariadne smiled at him and waved a hand at the disorder. ‘Mrs Sutton and her assistants must have been sewing night and day to have so many things finished already.’

‘Evidently,’ he murmured. ‘I trust the gowns are to Miss Halbrook’s satisfaction?’

Lucy had been feeling a little shy and not sure how to greet him after their last confrontation, but the challenging look in his eye roused her spirit.

‘They are indeed,’ she replied. ‘I have yet to try them on, but the styles and colours cannot be faulted. You have impeccable taste, my lord.’

‘Handsomely said, madam.’ He grinned at her, then cast a faintly bewildered glance about the room. ‘I am definitely de trop here, so I will go away and change out of all my dirt.’

‘Oh, dear, how remiss of me,’ cried Ariadne, ‘Have you been travelling all day, Cousin? Shall I ring for refreshments?’

‘No need,’ he said, going back to the door. ‘I shall ask Byrne to send something up to me. I shall see you at dinner.’

‘My lord!’ Lucy called him back. As he turned she held up two of the new creations, saying innocently, ‘I have these new evening gowns now, sir. The white drawn-thread muslin with a twisted pink sash, or the cream sprigged muslin. Which would you like me to wear tonight?’

‘I have not the least—’ He broke off, his eyes narrowing. ‘I see. You have not forgiven me for my high-handedness in dictating what should be made, is that it?’

‘He who pays the piper may call the tune, my lord.’

He met her limpid gaze with a hard stare.

‘But one would hope, Miss Halbrook, that the piper knows how to play. I have provided your wardrobe, madam, I leave it to you to present yourself to best advantage.’

He closed the door behind him with a decided snap.

Ariadne gave a little tut of reproof. ‘Lucy, my dear, I really do not think you are wise to tease Ralph in that manner.’

‘No?’ A smile tugged at the corners of Lucy’s mouth. ‘I think it is high time someone teased your cousin. In my opinion he has had his own way for far too long!’

* * *

Lucy might well want to tease her host, but she was also eager to wear one of her new gowns, and the look of relief upon Mrs Dean’s countenance when she presented herself in the drawing room before dinner caused Lucy to chuckle.

‘You see I have behaved myself and chosen the cream muslin. The embroidery on the shawl Mrs Sutton sent with it exactly matches the pink sash.’ She gave a twirl. ‘Does it not look very well? And Ruthie found a matching ribbon for my hair, too. I hope his lordship will be pleased.’

‘He is.’

The deep voice made her turn quickly to the door. Adversane had come in and was walking towards her. His dark evening coat contrasted with the white waistcoat and knee breeches, and his black hair gleamed like polished jet in the soft light of the summer evening. Lucy found herself thinking how attractive he was. That made her laugh inwardly, for no one could call Lord Adversane’s craggy face handsome. Strong, yes. Striking, even. Yet the impression persisted and she quickly sat down on the sofa next to Ariadne, conscious that she was blushing.

Ralph raised his quizzing glass to look at her. He did not need it, and the gesture was more to cover his own confusion. He had entered the room in time to see her spin around, the skirts of her gown lifting away from a pair of extremely neat ankles and her honey-brown curls bouncing joyously about her head. Once again he had been surprised by the way she roused his desire.

She was no beauty, certainly not a diamond as his wife had been, but he had never seriously expected to find anyone to equal Helene. Yet there was a vivacity about Lucy Halbrook, and he found himself wondering if that liveliness would translate itself to passion if he was to take her in his arms.

Impossible. She was a lady, not a courtesan, and he had never dallied with gently bred ladies—not even Helene, although he had known from the start that he would marry her. Ruthlessly, he suppressed all improper thoughts and when he spoke his tone was at its most neutral.

‘My compliments, Miss Halbrook. You look very well tonight.’

‘Any tributes are due to Mrs Sutton and to my maid, sir, the one for providing the gown and the other for arranging my hair.’

She answered calmly enough and the becoming flush on her cheeks was dying away. He was relieved. It formed no part of his plan to become entangled with his employee. He helped himself to wine from the decanter on the side table and addressed his cousin.

‘I have had a letter from Caroline. She and Wetherell are coming on the nineteenth.’

‘Was there ever any doubt?’ Ariadne turned to Lucy to explain. ‘Lady Wetherell is Ralph’s sister and eight years older than he. She is very eager to meet you, Lucy, but I should warn you that Caroline can be a little forthright—’

‘She is damned interfering,’ he said brutally.

‘A family trait, perhaps,’ murmured Lucy.

His eyes narrowed. The minx was teasing him again, but he acknowledged the justice of her remark with the flicker of a smile while Ariadne continued, unheeding.

‘You may recall, Lucy, I told you that Ralph’s sister Margaret is also coming. She is only four years older than Ralph but equally...’

‘Interfering?’

Ralph laughed. ‘There you have it, Miss Halbrook. Perhaps now you see why I need a fiancée to protect me?’

‘Your sisters are concerned for the succession,’ put in Ariadne.

‘They need not be. I have an heir.’

‘Adam Cottingham? He is merely a cousin.’

‘He bears the family name. That is sufficient.’

‘But they would prefer to continue the direct line, Ralph—’

His cousin’s persistence hit a nerve. He had heard all these arguments before.

‘Enough,’ he said impatiently. ‘I have married once for the sake of an heir. I do not intend to do so again. I shall never take another wife.’ He rose quickly before anyone could respond. ‘Shall we go in to dinner?’

* * *

Lucy accompanied Lord Adversane into the dining room, her fingers resting lightly on his sleeve. She could feel the tense muscles, strong as steel beneath the expensive Bath coating. He was angry, and she had some sympathy with him. His wife had been dead for but two years and he was being nagged to marry again. He must have loved her very much.

In an effort to divert his mind she asked him about his trip. He told her that he had been in Leeds, discussing the prospect of a steam railway. She dragged from her memory whatever she had learned of steam power in order to ask questions that would not result in his dismissing her as a fool. She succeeded very well, and the conversation continued during dinner. Lucy included Ariadne where she could, but although Mrs Dean professed herself interested, she was content to allow the discussion to continue around her while she concentrated upon her meal.

* * *

‘Steam power has a lot to offer,’ concluded Lord Adversane, when the covers had been removed and they were sitting back in their chairs, choosing from the dishes of sweetmeats left on the table. ‘It has even more potential than the canals, I think, and we will be able to move huge quantities of goods to and from the new manufactories.’

‘And will it mean the demise of the horse?’ asked Lucy.

‘Good God, no. Or, at least, not for a long time.’ He pushed a dish of sugared almonds towards her. ‘Which reminds me. Did I see your new riding habit amongst all those new clothes delivered today?’

‘Why, yes, sir.’

The high-waisted style was very different from her old habit, and the soft dove-blue linen not nearly so hard-wearing as the olive-green velvet, but, she thought wryly, the future Lady Adversane did not need to worry about such practicalities.

‘Good,’ remarked her host. ‘Then perhaps you would like to ride out with me tomorrow. Greg tells me you have not been near the stables since that first ride.’

Lucy hoped her face did not show her embarrassment at the memory.

‘No, I did not like to presume.’

‘It is no presumption, madam. Brandy needs exercising and you may as well do that as the stable hands. You may order the mare to be saddled whenever you wish, and Greg will find someone to accompany you.’

‘Th-thank you, my lord.’

‘So? Are you free tomorrow? It will have to be after breakfast. Colne and I have business before that, but I should be free soon after ten.’

Mrs Dean gave a little cluck of admiration.

‘You are so industrious, Ralph, to be conducting your business so early.’

‘If I do not then the day is lost.’ He looked again at Lucy, who met his enquiring glance with a smile.

‘I shall be ready, my lord.’

* * *

Lucy was already in the stable yard and mounted upon the bay mare when Lord Adversane appeared the following morning.

‘I wanted to accustom myself to this new habit,’ she told him as she waited for him to mount up. ‘The skirts are much wider than my old dress. I hope Brandy will not take exception to them if they billow out.’

‘She is used to it, having carried my sisters often enough.’

They trotted out of the yard and as soon as they reached the park Lord Adversane suggested they should gallop the fidgets out of their mounts. The exercise did much to dispel any lingering constraint Lucy felt, and her companion also seemed more relaxed. When they left the park he took her through the little village of Adversane, where she noted with approval the general neatness. All the buildings were in good repair and it did not surprise her to learn that most of the property belonged to the estate. They met the parson on his way to the church, whose square tower was visible beyond a double row of cottages. They drew rein, introductions were performed and the reverend gentleman smiled up at Lucy.

‘So this is your second week here, Miss Halbrook.’

‘It is.’

Her eyes flickered towards Adversane, who said easily, ‘I was away last Sunday, Mr Hopkins, and Miss Halbrook was reluctant to attend church alone.’

Lucy cast him a grateful glance. It was almost true. Mrs Dean had cavilled at taking her into the church and, as she put it, continuing the pretence of the betrothal in such a holy place.

‘We will wait until Adversane is here to escort you,’ Ariadne had said. ‘The Lord’s wrath will come down upon his head then. Not that he will care much for that!’

Mr Hopkins was directing a sympathetic look towards Lucy and saying gently, ‘Ah, yes, quite understandable, in the circumstances. You were afraid everyone would be gawping at you, Miss Halbrook. And they would be, too, I’m afraid. Perhaps you would like to come and see the church now? It has some quite wonderful examples of Gothic architecture. And I doubt if there will be anyone there at present—’

‘Thank you, Mr Hopkins, but next Sunday will have to do for that. We must get on.’

‘Ah, of course, of course.’ The parson nodded and stepped back. ‘And there is plenty of time for all the arrangements, my lord. You need only to send word when you wish me to come to discuss everything with you.’

Lucy knew not what to say and left it to Adversane to mutter a few words before they rode off.

‘He meant the arrangements for the wedding, I suppose,’ she said, when they were safely out of earshot.

‘Of course.’ His hard gaze flickered over her. ‘Feeling guilty?’

‘Yes, a little,’ she admitted.

‘Don’t be. Our betrothal has given the locals something to talk about, and when it ends they will have even more to gossip over. A little harmless diversion, nothing more.’

‘I suppose you are right, my lord.’

‘I think it is time that we abandoned the formality, at least in public.’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘You cannot keep calling me “my lord”. I have a name, you know.’

Lucy felt the tell-tale colour rising up again.

‘I do know,’ she managed, ‘but—’

‘No buts, Lucy. There, I have used your name, now you must call me Ralph. Come, try it.’

She felt uncomfortably hot.

‘I—that is, surely we only need to do so when other people are near—’

‘And how unnatural do you think that would sound? We need to practise.’

‘Of course. R-Ralph.’

He grinned. ‘Very demure, my dear, but you look woefully conscious.’

‘That is because I am,’ she snapped.

‘Which proves my point,’ he replied in a voice of reason that made her grind her teeth.

Observing her frustration, he merely laughed and adjured her to keep up as he trotted out of the village.

It was impossible to remain at odds. There was too much to see, too many questions to ask. The hours flew by and Lucy was almost disappointed when Adversane said they must turn for home.

‘We are on the far side of Ingleston,’ he told her. ‘It will take us an hour to ride back through the town, longer if we skirt around it. Which would you prefer?’

‘The longer route, if you please.’ Lucy recalled her meeting with the parson and had no wish to be stared at and pointed out as the future Lady Adversane.

They kept to the lanes and picked up the road again at the toll just west of Ingleston. Lucy recognised it as the road she had travelled when Mrs Dean had taken her to the town. She recalled there was a narrow, steep-sided valley ahead, where the highway ran alongside the river. It had felt very confined in the closed carriage, with nothing but the green hillside rising steep and stark on each side, and Lucy was looking forward to seeing it from horseback. She turned to her companion to tell him so and found that his attention was fixed upon something ahead, high up on the hills. Following his gaze, she saw the moors rising above the trees, culminating in a ragged edifice of stone on the skyline.

‘Is that Druids Rock, my lord?’

‘Yes.’

She stared up at the rocky outcrop. The sun had moved behind it, and the stone looked black and forbidding against the blue sky.

‘Your cousin told me that the old track to Adversane ran past there, before this carriageway was built.’

‘That is so.’

‘And can one still ride that way?’

‘Yes, but we will keep to the road.’

She said no more. His wife had died at Druids Rock and it must be very painful to have such a constant and visible reminder of the tragedy. She longed to offer him some comfort, at least to tell him she understood, but he had urged Jupiter into a fast trot, and quite clearly did not wish to discuss the matter any further.

By the time they arrived back at Adversane Hall Lucy felt that she had achieved a comfortable understanding with her host. Glancing up at the clock above the stable entrance, she wondered aloud if there would be time for her to bathe before dinner.

‘I have not ridden so far in a very long time,’ she explained.

‘You had probably forgotten, then, how dusty one can get.’

‘And sore,’ she added, laughing. ‘I have a lowering suspicion that this unaccustomed exercise will leave my joints aching most horribly!’

‘I shall tell Byrne to put dinner back an hour and have Mrs Green send up hot water for you.’ He helped her dismount and led her towards a small door at the back of the stable yard. ‘This is a quicker way,’ he explained. ‘A path leads directly from here to a side door of the house, which opens onto what we call the side hall, and from there we can ascend via a secondary staircase to the main bedchambers. It is much more convenient than appearing in all one’s dirt at the front door.’

‘I guessed there must be a way,’ she told him as she stepped into the house. ‘Only I had not yet found it. Does it lead to the guest wing, too?’

‘No. They have their own staircase, over there.’ He pointed across the side hall to a panelled corridor, where Lucy could see another flight of stairs rising at the far end. ‘My guests have perfect freedom to come and go as they wish.’

There was something in his tone that made her look up quickly, but his face was a stony mask. She began to make her way up the oak staircase, conscious of his heavy tread behind her.

‘How useful to have one’s own staircase,’ she remarked, to break the uneasy silence. ‘Was it perhaps the original way to the upper floor? Mrs Dean did say that the grand staircase was added when the house was remodelled in the last century.’

She knew her nerves were making her chatter, but when her companion did not reply she continued, glancing at the dark and rather obscure landscapes on the wall. ‘And of course it gives you somewhere to hang paintings that are not required elsewhere...’

Her words trailed away as they reached the top of the stairs, and her wandering gaze fixed upon the large portrait hanging directly in front of her. But it was not its gilded frame, gleaming in the sunlight, nor the fresh, vibrant colours that made her stop and stare. It was the subject. She was looking at a painting of herself in the scarlet gown.