Читать книгу The Regency Season: Blackmailed Brides: The Scarlet Gown / Lady Beneath the Veil - Sarah Mallory - Страница 14

Chapter Six

‘Well, was there ever anyone so rude?’

Lucy watched Ralph gallop off across the park. She had thought they were getting on well. They had talked quite freely during their walk, which had gone a long way to allowing her to put aside some of her own reserve, but now he had rebuffed her. Lucy tried to be angry, but honesty compelled her to admit that she was more wounded by his abrupt departure.

‘But why should he walk you back?’ she asked herself as she turned her steps towards the house. ‘If he was truly your fiancé it would be a different matter. You would have every excuse to feel aggrieved. As it is, he is paying you very well and that should be sufficient. Surely you do not want to spend more time with such a difficult man.’

She thought back to what he had told her about his late wife. Ariadne thought them a devoted couple, but Lucy was sceptical. Ralph himself had admitted Helene was not happy and she had detected no sign of affection in his manner when he talked about his wife. She stopped and uttered her thoughts to the open air.

‘But if that is the case, why does he want me to look like Helene?’

She fixed her eyes on the darkening sky, as if the black clouds might give her an answer. The only response was a fat raindrop that splashed on her nose. She hurried on, reaching the house just as the heavens opened.

* * *

The heavy rain continued for the rest of the day, making the sky so dark that when Lucy went down to the drawing room before dinner she found that Ariadne had ordered the candles to be lit.

‘These summer storms are so depressing,’ said Mrs Dean, staring despondently at the rain cascading down the windows.

‘Best to be thankful there is no thunder and lightning,’ remarked Ralph, walking in at that moment. ‘That sends even the most sensible females into a panic.’

Lucy, still smarting from the way he had left her that morning, bridled immediately.

‘Not all females, my lord.’

He raised his brows, looking at her as if her comment was not worthy of a response. She watched him sit down beside his cousin and engage her in conversation.

Good. She was glad and did not wish to talk to him when he was determined to be so disagreeable. She had to admit that he was being perfectly civil to Ariadne, but whenever he was obliged to acknowledge Lucy he did so with such brevity that it bordered on curt. Byrne came in to announce dinner and Lucy hung back. With only the briefest hesitation Ralph offered his arm to his cousin.

It was what Lucy had intended, what she wanted, yet following them across the hall she felt decidedly alone. The rain did not help, for it made the Great Hall cold and gloomy, and when they reached the dining room she was glad to find that an abundance of candles burned brightly, giving the room a cosy glow that offset the sound of the rain pattering against the window. Mrs Dean remarked that they would need to ensure they had a good supply of candles for the forthcoming house party.

‘Colne sent off an order for another twelve dozen only yesterday,’ replied Ralph. ‘Which reminds me, have you made up the guest rooms yet?’

‘Lucy and I allocated the rooms today. There is a little furniture to be moved, but apart from that nothing need be done now. We shall make up the beds the day before your guests arrive.’

He nodded. ‘And when does Mrs Sutton anticipate the rest of your gowns will be ready, Lucy?’

‘She has promised them next week, my lord.’

He did not respond immediately, but when Byrne followed the servants out of the room he said, ‘I thought we were agreed that you would call me by my name?’

‘I beg your pardon, my—Ralph. It slipped my mind.’

‘Then pray do not let it happen again.’

Ariadne shook her head at him.

‘Fie upon you, Cousin, how can you expect Lucy to address you informally when you are acting so cold and...and lordly this evening?’

‘I am paying her to do so.’

And very handsomely, Lucy acknowledged silently. However, it did not mean that she would be browbeaten. She remarked, as the servants returned with more dishes, ‘Ralph cannot help being cold and lordly, ma’am. It is all he knows.’

With Byrne filling the wineglasses and the footmen in attendance, only the narrowing of Adversane’s eyes told Lucy that her comment had hit home.

The dinner was excellent, as always, but Lucy felt a tension in the air. Perhaps it was the weather. It was very close in the dining room, but the driving rain made it impossible to open the windows.

Ariadne did not seem to notice, but whenever Lucy looked at Ralph, he appeared to be frowning and distracted. He contributed little to the conversation and by the time the covers were removed Lucy was so incensed by his conduct that she barely waited for the door to close behind the servants before asking him bluntly what he meant by his boorish behaviour.

Those black brows flew up.

‘I beg your pardon, ma’am?’

Ariadne fluttered a warning hand at Lucy, but she ignored it.

‘You have barely said two words together during dinner,’ she retorted. ‘If there is something pressing upon your mind then do please share it with us. Otherwise it would be courteous to give us at least a little of your attention.’

‘If there are matters pressing upon my mind, madam, they are my business, and not for general discussion.’

‘Dinner is a social occasion,’ she retorted. ‘My father always said if you cannot talk about a problem then it should be left outside the dining room. He considered family dinners to be most important.’

‘When he was sober enough to attend them!’

He saw her flinch as if he had struck her, and it did not need Ariadne’s outraged gasp to tell him he was at fault.

‘Lucy—Miss Halbrook, I beg your pardon, I—’

She held up a hand to silence him. Slowly, she rose to her feet.

‘If you will excuse me, Ariadne, I think I shall retire.’

‘My dear!’ Mrs Dean put out her hand, then let it fall and looked instead to her cousin. ‘Ralph, how could you say such a thing? You must apologise.’

‘I have done so, Cousin.’

‘It is unnecessary, I assure you,’ said Lucy in freezing accents.

Keeping her head high, she left the room. She closed the door behind her with exaggerated care, determined to keep her anger in check. To her annoyance she could feel the hot tears coursing down her cheeks. She dashed them away but more followed. The through-passage was empty but she could see shadows moving in the Great Hall and hesitated, unwilling to allow the servants to witness her distress.

She heard the dining room door open and a hasty tread upon the boards behind her. Heedless of decorum, she turned and raced through the passage, heading for the gardens.

‘Lucy!’

She wrenched open the garden door and flew across the terrace, heedless of the drenching rain. The only light came from the house windows, illuminating the terrace with a pale gleam but leaving the rest of the gardens in darkness. Without thinking Lucy plunged down the shallow steps into the blackness. She had reached the bottom step when Ralph caught up with her, catching her arm and forcing her to stop. She kept her back to him, rigidly upright, anger burning through every limb.

‘Forgive me.’

She shook her head, unable to trust her voice, but thankful that the rain had washed away all evidence of her tears. She would not allow him to think she was so weak.

‘Lucy, you are right, I have had something on my mind. I have been distracted, ever since our meeting at Druids Rock this morning, but it is not something I could share with you in company.’

‘That does not give you the right to throw my father’s weakness in my face.’

‘I know, but I was taken aback by your reproof.’ An unsteady laugh escaped him. ‘No one has dared to admonish me at my own dinner table before.’

‘More’s the pity. Now leave me alone!’

She shook off his hand, only to find herself caught by the shoulders and whirled about so violently that if he had not maintained his hold she would have fallen.

‘Damn you, woman, you shall not leave me like this!’

‘Like what, my lord?’

‘Will you not at least be open with me?’

The injustice of his words made her swell with indignation.

‘It seems to me, my lord, that it is you who will not be open with me! You bring me here, make me masquerade as your wife yet you will not tell me why. I abhor these secrets, sir!’

She glared up at him, trying to see his face, but the darkness was too deep. She could see only his outline and the gleam of his rain-soaked hair. Then she could not even see that, for he swooped down, enveloping her in darkness as his lips met hers. The shock of it was like a lightning bolt. Her limbs trembled and she leaned against him, clutching at his wet coat as she reeled under the shocking pleasure of his kiss.

But only for a moment. Then she was fighting, some unreasonable panic telling her that she must get away from him or risk destruction. He raised his head, but he was still holding her arms and she began to struggle.

‘Let me go!’

‘Lucy, I beg your pardon. I should never—’

Anger swelled within her as she tried to shake off his hold. He was her employer; he owed her his protection, yet he was betraying her trust—just as her uncle had done—by attempting to ravish her as soon as she was under his roof. And had her father not betrayed her, also, by keeping his gambling a secret instead of sharing it with her, allowing her to help him?

Her sense of injustice grew. She tried again to break free but he held her firm, and she said furiously, ‘Do you think to impose your will upon me by this ruthless seduction?’

His hands fell from her shoulders and she took the opportunity to turn and flee to the safety of her room, where she relieved her anger and distress in a hearty bout of tears.

* * *

The rain had gone by the morning and the sun was shining in a clear sky, but the prospect did little to raise Lucy’s spirits. She had not slept well; the night had brought counsel and she knew what she must do. Quietly, she rose from her bed, heavy-eyed and depressed. It was still early and she could hear Ruthie snoring noisily in the dressing room, so she went to the linen press and brought out the grey wool robe she had worn for her interviews with Mrs Killinghurst. She needed no maid to help her into it, and she could dress her own hair, too, catching her curls back from her face with a black ribbon. A glance in her glass confirmed her sober, even severe appearance. Squaring her shoulders, she quietly left her room.

* * *

She found Lord Adversane in the Great Hall.

‘Good morning, my lord. I wonder if you could spare me a few moments, alone?’

When he turned to face her she thought he looked a little haggard, and there were dark shadows under his eyes, as if he, too, had not slept well. His searching gaze swept over her but with a silent nod he led the way to his study.

He closed the door and invited her to sit down.

‘Thank you, my lord, I would rather stand.’

He walked over to the large mahogany desk and turned to face her, leaning on its edge and folding his arms across his chest.

‘That, and your funereal garb, tells me this is important.’

‘Yes. I am resigning my position here.’

‘Indeed?’ One word, uttered quietly. No emotion, no surprise. Lucy found it difficult to keep still while he subjected her to a long, long look. ‘Is that because of my behaviour yesterday?’

‘In part, yes.’

‘For which I have apologised, and I will beg your pardon again, here and now. My behaviour was unforgivable and I give you my word it shall not happen again. Will you believe that?’

Her eyes slid to the floor.

‘It makes no difference.’

‘You still wish to leave Adversane.’

‘Yes. Today.’

He pushed himself upright.

‘Strange. I had not thought you the sort to give up at the first hurdle.’

‘I am not giving up,’ she replied indignantly. ‘I do not believe I am the right person for this post.’

‘Adam Cottingham found no fault with you.’

‘He saw me for only a few hours. In a longer period he would realise that it was a sham.’

‘And why should he do that?’

‘Because our characters are not suited.’

‘I fail to see that it matters.’

She looked at him rather helplessly.

‘How are we going to convince everyone that we are betrothed?’

He was looking at her, something she could not read in his eyes.

‘It is like marriage, madam. We shall have to work at it.’

‘My lord, I cannot pretend to be your fiancée.’

‘May I ask why not?’

She blushed. ‘I do not feel for you any of the...the warmer feelings that are necessary to make everyone believe that I—that we—’

‘Really? That was not the impression I had last night. I thought your feelings for me were very warm indeed.’

‘They are, sir,’ she retorted, goaded. ‘I dislike you, intensely!’

‘That is not important. As long as we are polite to one another people will assume it is a marriage of convenience. You are here to meet my neighbours and relatives, your chaperone has been taken ill at the last moment and Ariadne has kindly stepped in. Come, Miss Halbrook, is it so very onerous a task? I thought we were agreed the settlement I am prepared to make will more than make up for any gossip that may arise when you jilt me.’

‘The gossip does not worry me but being caught out in this charade does. I should find it very difficult to hide my true feelings.’ Lucy raised her head, determined to be brutally honest. ‘I find you rude and overbearing, my lord. In fact I find you totally abhorrent!’

Her declaration did not appear to disconcert him in the least.

‘Then you will just have to act a little, Miss Halbrook.’ He laughed at her stunned silence and stepped towards her, reaching for her hand. ‘You have spirit, Lucy Halbrook. I like that, although sometimes I find it hard to accept your home truths about my character. My temper is cross, as you know to your cost, but I have apologised, and I will try to curb it for the next few weeks. You have my word on that, if you will but reconsider.’

His thumb caressed the inside of her wrist, causing an extraordinary reaction. Her pulse was jumping erratically, his touch awakening an inexplicable longing from somewhere deep inside her. She was aware of a pleasant languor spreading through her body and it was difficult to think clearly. However, she had to try.

‘It is not just your temper, sir. You took advantage of me.’ The memory of it sent the hot blood pounding through her body again, enhanced this time by the continued assault upon her wits caused by the light-as-a-feather touch of his circling thumb.

‘A kiss,’ he said shortly. ‘A brief sensory exploration, brought on because our senses were heightened by the ongoing disagreement. It could happen to any two people caught in those circumstances. We have my cousin here as your chaperone and as long as we are civil to one another it will not occur again.’

It all sounded so reasonable, thought Lucy, yet they were being civil now, and her senses were still heightened. He was standing very close, surrounding her with his strong masculine presence. His broad-shouldered torso blocked out the light, the grey riding coat reminding her of the shadowed cliff-like face of Druids Rock. He smelled of soap and clean linen. She could almost taste the faint hint of citrus and spices that clung to his skin, feel the strength emanating from his powerful form. Her eyes were on a level with the diamond pin nestled deep in the folds of his neck cloth, and she fixed her gaze upon it, trying to cling to some semblance of reality and stop herself stepping closer, inviting him to enfold her in his arms and repeat the embrace they had shared in the rain. She heard the soft rasp of his breath as he exhaled.

‘We can do better than this, Lucy.’ His voice was low and soft, melting the last of her resistance. ‘Say you will stay. It is only for two more weeks, and we need only give the appearance of being happy together when we are in company. If I am boorish, then I give you leave to upbraid me as much as you wish.’

She looked up at that, grasping at a mischievous thought to put an end to her languor.

‘Do you mean you will accept my strictures meekly, my lord?’

He was smiling down at her and the warm look in his grey eyes set her pulse jumping again.

‘I never promise the impossible. We shall battle most royally, I fear.’

To her surprise, Lucy did not find the thought daunting. She was aware of a tiny frisson of disappointment when he changed his grip on her hand and stopped caressing her wrist.

‘So, cry pax with me, Lucy?’

No. Impossible. There can be no peace between us. Even just standing here I can feel it.

‘Very well.’

‘And you will stay and be friends?’

Friends. Lucy found the idea very tempting. Despite all she had said to the contrary she would dearly like to be friends with this man, to have him trust her.

No! The danger is too great. Go. Now.

‘Yes. But I shall not allow you to bully me.’

Amusement gleamed in his eyes.

‘Then it should prove a very eventful two weeks.’

He lifted her hand to his lips before releasing her. Lucy trembled inwardly as the gesture sent more shockwaves racing through her body. She did not think Ralph had noticed, for he had turned to his desk and was sorting through the papers.

He said, over his shoulder, ‘Very well. If that is all, I have work to do before breakfast. You can go upstairs and change out of that abominable gown!’

No relief, no word of thanks—Lucy felt a gurgle of laughter bubbling up inside her as he resumed his usual autocratic tone. It would indeed be an eventful two weeks!

* * *

Having cleared the air, Lucy threw herself into life at Adversane. Ariadne was glad of her help with the arrangements for the house party, and Lucy cultivated the acquaintance of Amos, the aged gardener who promised her enough fresh flowers to fill the house. She also made a friend of Greg, Ralph’s groom, who accompanied her on her daily rides.

Of Ralph himself she saw very little. He accompanied her and Ariadne to church on Sunday, but after that he spent most of his time with Harold Colne or on the estate, going out before breakfast and joining the ladies only in time for dinner each evening. When Ariadne jokingly remarked that he was neglecting them he said they would see more than enough of him when the guests arrived.

Lucy discovered that she missed his company. She began to take more care over her appearance when she prepared for dinner each evening. Ruthie proved herself a proficient coiffeuse, and Lucy was happy to sit still while the maid arranged her hair, chattering merrily all the while.

However, after her first incautious speech, Ruthie never mentioned her late mistress, and Lucy was increasingly curious to find out more about the woman whose place she was supposed to be filling. A casual remark to Mrs Green brought forth the information that Lady Adversane had been eager to learn how to run the household to his lordship’s satisfaction.

‘Not that the master wanted her to pander to him,’ remarked the housekeeper, smiling at the memory. ‘Quite nonplussed he was, whenever he found she put his comfort before her own. Told her she was mistress now, and must order things the way she wanted. He even gave her leave to have her bedchamber redecorated in any style she wished, but she wouldn’t change a thing. To my mind I think she would have preferred to live in the London house, but she would not say so. Never one to make a fuss. But that was my lady’s way.’ She sighed and shook her head. ‘A saint, she was, always looking to everyone else’s happiness.’

Lucy found herself stopping in the Long Gallery to look at the portrait of Helene, now back in its original position. She tried to read her expression, to discern if she was happy or miserable, but the painted face merely stared down at her, a faint, wistful smile lifting her mouth. She wished she had the courage to ask Ralph about his wife, but even though she thought they had achieved an excellent understanding they only met at dinner or in the drawing room with Mrs Dean present, and Lucy did not feel she could mention it in company.

* * *

Mrs Sutton arrived towards the end of the following week, bringing with her all the remaining outfits, save the scarlet gown. She explained that she had had to send to London for the silk. However, she had brought so many other gowns and pelisses that Lucy was in no way disappointed. After trying them all on, she left the dressmaker and her assistant in the morning room, making the final adjustments while she went off to the stables. She had sent word earlier that she wanted to ride out and she found Brandy saddled and waiting for her. A young stable hand called Robin helped her to mount and explained that Mr Greg had gone off to Ingleston with Lord Adversane.

‘So I’m to come with you today, miss,’ he ended with a grin.

Brandy was fresh, and as soon as they entered the park Lucy gave him his head and enjoyed a gallop. It was only when she reached the trees and slowed up that she realised the young groom was quite some distance away. She stopped and waited for him to catch up with her. He was looking a little red in the face, and she laughed.

‘I did not mean to leave you so far behind.’

‘Nay, miss, that were my fault. Fair took me by surprise, you did, setting off so fast. I weren’t expecting you to be such a good rider.’

He looked at her with new respect in his cheerful, open countenance, and as they turned and walked on Lucy could not resist asking if he had accompanied Lady Adversane on her rides.

‘Aye, miss, for she wouldn’t ride out alone. Wouldn’t travel anywhere on her own, and that’s a fact. Very nervy she was, which didn’t suit my lord. Neck or nothing, he is. Bruising rider.’

‘Yes, he is.’ Lucy knew she should not ask, but Robin was a friendly lad, and there was no harm in her questions, surely. ‘How did they get on, riding out together?’

‘They didn’t, miss. My lady was frightened of all his lordship’s cattle, especially Jupiter. Horses knows, see, they can smell that sort of thing. The master said at first that my lady would have to get used to ’em, but it was no good, and after a few weeks he asked Sir James to send over the grey my lady had always ridden.’ He wrinkled his nose. ‘Overfed old mare, no pace at all. Mr Greg said he’d never expected to see such a slug in the master’s stables, and ’twas no wonder my lord never rode out with his lady.’ He stopped, flushing. ‘I beg yer pardon, miss. I should not be saying this to you.’

Guiltily aware that she had encouraged his confidences, Lucy hastened to reassure Robin that she would not repeat it to anyone. She knew she should put all thoughts of Lady Adversane out of her mind, but Lucy was beginning to feel a little sorry for her, if she did not share her husband’s love of horses. She could well imagine Ralph’s impatience, but surely he could have curbed it and indulged his wife in a gentle ride around the park occasionally? She shook her head. It was not her concern. She would only be here for another two weeks. After that nothing at Adversane would be her concern at all.

* * *

Lying in her bed, Lucy stared into the enveloping darkness.

‘You would think,’ she said aloud, ‘that after spending the day helping Ariadne arrange all the guestrooms I would be exhausted. So why am I now wide awake?’

She clasped her hands behind her head. Perhaps working in the house had brought it home to her that Ralph’s family would be arriving soon. She had grown very comfortable at Adversane with only her host and his cousin for company, but she would have to be on her guard once their guests arrived. She sighed, realising how happy she had been for the past week, but it could not continue. She had been employed for a reason, and she must play her part. Lucy blinked. The inky blackness around her was almost total, only relieved by the bluish square of the window. Silently, she slipped out of bed and padded across the room. After wrestling for a moment with the catches, she threw both casements wide.

Balmy night air flooded in, bringing with it the heavy fragrance of the newly scythed lawns and the faint, tantalising hint of roses from the flower garden. Lucy curled up on the window seat and rested her arms on the sill, leaning out to catch the cool air on her face. With a sigh, she dropped her chin on her arms and gazed across the drive to the park beyond. She felt the heavy weight of the single plait of her hair slide over her shoulder to dangle into nothingness. The darkness was not so thick out of doors, for although there was no moon the clear sky was sprinkled with stars.

“Well, Rapunzel, what are you doing out of bed at this hour?’

Lucy jumped and looked down to see a figure standing beneath her window. His face was little more than a pale blur in the darkness, but the deep voice was instantly recognisable.

‘One might ask the same of you, Lord Adversane,’ she retorted. ‘And what did you call me?’

‘It is from a German folk tale. Rapunzel is a maiden who is locked in a high tower and the only way her lover can reach her is to climb up her hair.’