Читать книгу The Regency Season: Blackmailed Brides - Sarah Mallory - Страница 14

Chapter Five

‘My wife.’

It did not need Adversane’s curt words to tell her that. Only for an instant had Lucy thought she was looking at herself. A second, longer glance showed that the woman in the picture had golden curls piled up on her head, and eyes that were a deep, vivid blue.

‘I had forgotten it was here.’

She dragged her eyes away from the painting to look at him.

‘Forgotten?’ she repeated, shocked. ‘How could you forget?’

His shoulders lifted, the faintest shrug.

‘My cousin had it moved from the Long Gallery the day you arrived. She thought it would upset you. Personally I would not have done so. You were bound to see it at some time.’

She found her gaze drawn back to the painting.

‘She is wearing the gown I saw in Mrs Sutton’s sketch.’

‘Yes.’

‘And the diamonds.’ She swallowed. ‘My hair is a little darker but...there is a striking resemblance between us.’

‘Is there?’

Anger replaced her initial astonishment.

‘Come now, my lord. Please do not insult my intelligence by saying you have not noticed it.’ She had a sudden flash of memory: the open door in Mrs Killinghurst’s office, the gilded picture frame on the wall of the inner sanctum. ‘Did you deliberately set out to find someone who looked like your wife?’

‘Pray, madam, do not be making more of this than there is.’

He indicated that they should move on, but Lucy remained in front of the portrait. He had not denied the allegation, so she could only surmise that his reasons for hiring her were not quite as straightforward as he had said.

‘And your choice of gowns for me—are they all the same as those worn by your wife? Every one?’

‘If they are it need not concern you.’

‘My lord, it does concern me.’

‘Well, it should not.’ He frowned. ‘I have already explained what is required of you. I can assure you there is nothing improper in it.’

‘I am very glad to hear it!’

‘So, does it matter what you wear?’

‘No-o...’

‘Then pray do not concern yourself further. Instead, enjoy living in luxury for a few weeks!’ With that, he turned and strode off, leaving her to make her own way to her bedchamber.

* * *

Damn the woman, must she question everything?

Ralph stormed into his room, tearing off his neck cloth as he went. He had enjoyed their morning ride, much more than he had expected. Lucy Halbrook was spirited and intelligent and for a few hours he had put aside his cares and given himself up to pleasure. So successful had it been that he’d completely forgotten Ariadne had moved the painting and he’d been unprepared to see Helene staring down at him, large as life, from the top of the stairs. He had looked up and seen the portrait when he put his foot on the first tread, but by that time it was too late. Lucy was already before him, and all he could do was to try and think what on earth he would say to her when she saw the painting.

He was not surprised at her look of astonishment. Even Ariadne had questioned why he had hired someone who looked so much like Helene to play his fiancée. Lucy had seen the resemblance immediately and had turned to him, a question in her eyes. Green eyes, he recalled, and they changed with her moods. They looked like a stormy sea when she was angry and today, when she was exhilarated from the ride, they shone clear and bright as moss. Nothing like Helene’s blue eyes, which he had once thought so alluring.

He gave his head a little shake to dispel the unwelcome thoughts that came crowding in. Kibble’s voice intruded and Ralph looked up to see his valet coming out of the dressing room.

‘I have prepared a bath for your lordship.’

‘Thank you. Go down and tell Mrs Green to send up water to Miss Halbrook’s room, if you please.’ When Kibble hesitated he said curtly, ‘Damn it, man, I can undress myself, you know!’

Not visibly moved, Kibble gave a stately little bow and retired. Going into the dressing room, where scented steam was gently rising from a hip bath, Ralph threw off his clothes and lowered himself into the water.

Kibble knew him well enough not to be offended by his rough tone, but what of Lucy? He had spoken harshly to her on several occasions now. A slight smile tugged at his mouth. She appeared quite capable of standing up to him, but that last look she had given him nagged at his conscience. If he told her everything, would she understand?

He could not risk it. He had known the woman barely two weeks, it would not make sense to trust her with such a dangerous secret. Safer to keep his own counsel. Much more logical.

He heard a movement in the bedchamber, and Kibble appeared in the dressing room doorway.

‘A bath is even now being carried up to Miss Halbrook’s room, my lord.’

Ralph was immediately distracted by the image of Lucy undressing and stepping into the warm water. There was a golden sheen to the skin of her neck and shoulders. Did that extend, he wondered, to the rest of her body...?

Kibble spoke again, in a voice with just a hint of rebuke. ‘Mrs Green hopes there will be enough hot water, since she did not anticipate anyone other than your lordship requiring a bath today.’

Ralph sat up with an oath, not so much angry with his valet as with himself for not being able to dispel the thought of Lucy Halbrook.

Finding his master’s wrathful eye turned towards him, Kibble unbent sufficiently to add, ‘With so few guests in the house, Monsieur deemed it wasteful to light the new range in the kitchen and has been cooking on the old open range—it has a much smaller water cistern, my lord.’

‘I know precisely what the difference is,’ barked Ralph. ‘You may tell Monsieur that since I pay him an extortionate wage to run my kitchens, I can afford to use that new range whatever the number of guests in residence, do you understand?’

‘Yes, my lord.’

‘Very well.’ Ralph nodded towards the pail of hot water standing on the hearthstone. ‘Miss Halbrook can have that to top up her supply.’

‘Won’t you be needing it, my lord?’

‘No, I won’t.’ The vision of Lucy bathing was still tantalising Ralph. Great heavens, what was wrong with him? ‘In fact, you had best pour in the rest of the cold water before you go.’

* * *

Lucy rubbed herself dry, her skin and spirits glowing. To be able to call up a bath at a moment’s notice was luxury indeed and she could forgive her employer a great deal for that.

She could not forgive him everything, however, and the idea that she had been brought here to imitate his dead wife made her decidedly uneasy.

She left the chaos of the bath, buckets and towels in the dressing room and went into her bedchamber, where Ruthie had laid out a selection of gowns upon the bed. They were all new, and had all arrived that day. Lucy was tempted to wear the French cambric that she had brought with her, but she knew enough of her employer by now to be sure that if she did so, he would order her back upstairs to change.

In the end she chose a simple round gown of green silk over a white chemise. Ruthie dressed her hair in loose curls, caught up in a bandeau of matching ribbon, along with a pair of satin slippers dyed the same colour as her gown.

Looking at herself in the mirror, Lucy wondered if Helene had worn a gown like this, but of course she already knew the answer to that. Lucy derived some small, very small, satisfaction from the fact that however well the gown might have looked with guinea-gold curls, it could not have enhanced cornflower-blue eyes as it did green ones. Dismissing the thought as unworthy, Lucy placed a fine Norwich shawl about her shoulders and set off for the drawing room.

As she descended the main stairs she heard voices in the hall. One, which she recognised as Lord Adversane’s, came floating up to her.

‘Adam. What the devil brings you here?’

Adam. Lucy searched her mind and remembered that Adam Cottingham was Adversane’s cousin and heir. A cheerful male voice now made itself heard.

‘Don’t sound so surprised, Cos. I came to take pot luck with you, as I have done often and often.’

‘Aye, but not since the accident.’ She heard Ralph hesitate over the last word. ‘I thought you had vowed not to come here again.’

‘No, well...the past is over and done. Time to let it rest, eh? We should not allow it to cause a rift in the family.’

‘I was not aware that it had done so.’

‘Well, there you are, then. And here I am. I take it you can spare a dinner for me, Cousin?’

Lucy continued to descend, smiling a little at Adversane’s rather guarded response.

‘Of course, it will be a pleasure to have you stay.’

‘Thank you. So, Ralph, you old devil. What is this I have heard about a betrothal? Judith tells me you wrote to say you have installed your fiancée— Good God!’

This last exclamation was occasioned by Lucy’s appearance in the Great Hall. She found herself being stared at by a fair-haired stranger. He picked up his eyeglass the better to study her and said sharply, ‘Ralph, what the devil—?’

Lucy was tempted to run away from such astonished scrutiny, but Lord Adversane was already approaching and holding out his hand to her.

‘My dear, this boorish fellow is my cousin. He has come to join us for dinner.’ He pulled her fingers onto his sleeve, giving them a little squeeze as he performed the introduction.

Mr Cottingham dropped his eyeglass and made her an elegant bow.

‘Delighted, Miss Halbrook.’

Lucy’s throat dried as she responded. Suddenly, she felt very ill prepared. Now that she had met one of Adversane’s relatives in the flesh she was very nervous at the thought of being caught out. When Ralph smiled and patted her fingers she realised that she was clutching his arm rather tightly.

‘Let us go to the drawing room,’ he suggested. ‘I expect Mrs Dean is waiting there for us.’

The short walk across the hall gave Lucy time to collect herself, and once Ariadne had greeted their guest, expressed her surprise at his arrival and assured him that there was plenty of time for him to change before dinner, she was able to sit down and join in the conversation with reasonable calm.

‘Such a long time since I have seen you, Adam,’ said Mrs Dean, fluttering back to her seat. ‘I suppose there is no surprise about that. After all, we used to meet here at Adversane regularly, but of course all that changed when...’ She trailed off, looking self-conscious.

‘When Helene died,’ said Ralph bluntly. ‘I am aware that I have not entertained since then.’

‘Indeed, Cousin, you have become something of a recluse,’ declared Mrs Dean, recovering. ‘But thankfully all that is ended now.’ She turned back to Mr Cottingham. ‘And will you stay overnight, Adam? I can have a room prepared in a trice.’

‘No, no, I will not put you to that trouble. The long evening will give me time to get home before dark.’

‘Do you live nearby, sir?’ asked Lucy.

‘At Delphenden, about fifteen miles hence. I am on my way home after visiting friends in Skipton and thought, since I was passing—’

‘That is hardly passing,’ Ralph broke in. ‘You have come a good deal out of your way to get here.’

Adam laughed. ‘True, but your letter intrigued me and I wanted to know more—and to meet your future bride, of course.’

He turned to Lucy as he said this, but although his words were uttered with a smile Lucy thought the look in his eyes was more speculative than welcoming.

‘There is very little more to know,’ Ralph responded calmly. ‘Miss Halbrook and I met in London and she has done me the signal honour of agreeing to become my wife.’

‘No, no, Ralph, you will not fob me off like that,’ cried Adam, laughing. ‘What a fellow you are for keeping things close! I am determined to know all about this engagement.’

‘And so you shall.’ Ralph smiled. ‘There is nothing secret about it.’

‘No, no, I never— That is...’ Adam coloured. ‘I was not suggesting there was anything... The news came as something of a surprise, that is all.’

‘Miss Halbrook’s father died twelve months ago and she has only recently come out of mourning. That is why we have made no announcement yet.’

Ralph’s tone indicated that this explained everything. Lucy was well aware that it did not and was relieved when Mrs Dean asked Mr Cottingham about his wife.

‘How is dear Judith, Adam?’

‘She is well, thank you.’

‘Oh, that is good. I vow I have not seen her since the last house party here at Adversane—and how are the children?’ She turned to Lucy. ‘Adam has two fine boys, my dear. I suppose they are both at school now, are they not?’

‘Yes, Charlie joined his brother last term...’

The conversation turned to family matters and Lucy felt she could relax, at least for a while, although she was aware of Adam Cottingham’s thoughtful gaze frequently coming to rest upon her. She was not surprised, therefore, when he turned his attention towards her once more but by that time she was more prepared to answer his questions, adhering to Ralph’s advice that they should tell the truth wherever possible.

* * *

When Mr Cottingham went off to change for dinner, Lucy sank back in her chair and closed her eyes.

‘Good heavens, I feel completely exhausted!’

‘You did very well, my dear,’ Ariadne told her. ‘Although I thought it a little impolite of Adam to ask you quite so many questions.’

‘He is my heir,’ Ralph reminded her. ‘He has more of an interest in the matter than anyone else.’

Lucy sat up again. ‘Do you think he suspects the engagement is a sham?’

Ralph’s brows went up. ‘Why should he?’

‘It was the way he kept looking at me.’ Lucy hesitated. ‘I think he noticed my resemblance to the late Lady Adversane.’

‘She has seen the portrait, Cousin,’ said Ralph in response to Mrs Dean’s gasp of mortification.

‘And it is hardly surprising if he did notice, since all the clothes I have to wear are identical to Lady Adversane’s.’ Lucy lifted her chin and met his eyes defiantly. ‘What is it you are not telling me, my lord?’

‘There is nothing that need concern you,’ said Ralph dismissively. ‘However, I do think the portrait should be reinstated in the Long Gallery.’

Mrs Dean looked at Lucy. ‘As long as that will not upset you, my dear?’

Lucy shook her head. ‘I think it would cause a great deal more comment if you do not put it back.’

‘I agree.’ Ralph rose. ‘Now if you will excuse me, since we will have to wait for my cousin before we can eat, I shall use the time to attend to a little more business.’

He went out, leaving the two ladies to sit in silence.

‘Did you know?’ said Lucy at last. ‘Did he tell you he hired me because I look like his wife?’

Ariadne shook her head, her kindly eyes shadowed with anxiety.

‘At first I thought it was merely a coincidence. Then, when Mrs Sutton brought the sketches for your gowns—I asked Ralph what he meant by it, but he merely brushed it aside.’

‘I wonder what game he is playing?’

‘Oh, surely nothing more than he has already told you,’ Ariadne was quick to reply.

‘I am sure it is,’ said Lucy, adding bitterly, ‘No doubt he thinks I am not to be trusted with his secrets!’

‘I think it is merely that he misses Helene a great deal more than he is prepared to admit.’

Lucy had already considered that idea and found it did not please her.

Mrs Dean sighed. ‘Adversane prides himself upon his logical mind, you see. He says every problem can be solved by the application of logic, so to find him grieving so much for his late wife is quite touching, is it not?’

‘It is also a little embarrassing,’ replied Lucy tartly. ‘Everyone will think he is marrying me because I look like Helene. They will pity me, which I shall dislike intensely.’

‘Yes, but he is not going to marry you,’ Ariadne reminded her, brightening. ‘So it does not really matter, does it?’

Lucy could not disagree with this reasoning, but she knew, deep down, that it did matter to her, although she had no idea why it should.

* * *

Lucy enjoyed Adam Cottingham’s company at dinner. He was an entertaining guest, witty and knowledgeable, and although she thought his manner a little insincere she was grateful to him for making sure she was not left out when the conversation turned to family matters.

‘You will meet Adversane’s sisters, of course, when they come here for the house party,’ he said as they helped themselves to sweetmeats once the covers had been removed. ‘Fearsome ladies, both of ’em.’

‘No, Adam, you know that is not so,’ protested Mrs Dean, laughing. ‘You are not to be frightening Lucy out of her wits.’

‘Of course not, but it is as well to be forewarned.’ Adam grinned at Lucy. ‘They can be very outspoken, but you will do very well as long as you stand up to them.’

‘Now you have terrified me,’ she replied, chuckling.

‘You need not fear,’ said Adam. ‘I shall be here to protect you.’

The look that accompanied these words was surprisingly intense. Lucy suspected he was trying to flirt with her and was at a loss to know how to respond. However, Adam’s attention switched to Lord Adversane when he announced that he had invited the Ingleston Players to entertain his guests on Midsummer’s Eve.

‘The devil you have!’ exclaimed Adam.

The room was filled with a sudden tension that Lucy did not understand. Adversane’s dark brows rose a fraction as he regarded his heir.

‘Do you have any objections to them coming?’

‘No, of course not. It is a tradition that goes back generations...’

‘Precisely. They were very sorry not to be performing here last year.’

‘Who are these players?’ asked Lucy. ‘Are we to have theatricals?’

‘Yes, indeed,’ Ariadne responded. ‘Ingleston has its very own troupe of thespians who perform plays at certain times of the year, such as Easter and Christmas time.’

‘They have been performing here every Midsummer’s Eve for as long as I can remember,’ put in Lord Adversane. ‘Last year was the exception.’

Midsummer’s Eve. Lucy felt a little chill run down her spine. So Lady Adversane had died on the night of the performance. No wonder he had not wanted them to play there last year. Surely their appearance would bring back unwelcome memories? She glanced across at her host. There was no telling what he was thinking from that stern, inscrutable countenance.

An uncomfortable silence began to fill the room, and Lucy was thankful when Ariadne stepped into the breach.

‘And when shall you and Judith be coming to stay, Adam?’

‘Three weeks’ time, Cousin. On the nineteenth.’

‘Oh?’ Ariadne sounded surprised. ‘But that is when the other guests are expected.’

‘Adversane suggested it.’

‘Yes,’ said Ralph shortly. ‘There will be no need for you to arrive weeks in advance this year.’

Adam turned to Lucy to explain.

‘In the past we spent a deal of time at Adversane, it was almost a second home. My wife was a great help to Lady Adversane, especially with all the arrangements for the summer house party. We would spend weeks here so that Judith could assist her, but of course Cousin Ariadne is taking care of everything this year, and she has you to support her, Miss Halbrook.’

‘Precisely.’

An awkward silence followed Adversane’s curt response. Mrs Dean rose and quietly invited Lucy to come with her to the drawing room. She said nothing as they crossed the hall, but immediately they were alone in the drawing room she burst out with unwonted spirit, ‘If Judith Cottingham did anything to help anyone I should be surprised. Whenever I’ve seen her here at Adversane she has either spent her time lying down in her room, or wandering about the garden, looking forlorn.’

Lucy blinked at her.

‘Why, Ariadne, I have never heard you speak in such a forthright manner before.’

‘No, well, usually I am prepared to give anyone the benefit of the doubt, but to hear Adam talking in that fashion—!’ Her pursed lips and frowning expression told Lucy just what she thought. She continued scathingly, ‘Judith Cottingham is a poor little dab of a woman with a perpetual air of gloom about her. And I did not think Helene was ever that fond of her. In fact, I think she resented her interference, because she told me once that she could not prevent Adam and his wife from coming here so often because they were Ralph’s nearest relatives. Heavens, to listen to Adam you would think Judith was essential to the running of Adversane!’

‘Mayhap Mr Cottingham is very much in love with his wife. I believe such affection can blind one to a partner’s faults.’

Her companion gave a most unladylike snort. ‘The only person Adam Cottingham is in love with is himself! His father was a wastrel, you know. Quite profligate, but thankfully he went to his grave before he lost everything. However, although Adam managed to keep the house at Delphenden, there was never enough money—at least not to keep Adam in the manner he wished. Even his marriage did not bring him the fortune he expected, so Ralph set up an annuity for him. Not that Adam was ever grateful. It is my belief that he envies Ralph his fortune and his lands, although I doubt he appreciates just how hard Ralph has worked to make Adversane so prosperous.

‘Adam positively haunted the place while Helene was alive, for the house was always full of visitors and that gave him the opportunity to shine, which there is no doubt he does in company. But since the accident I believe he has not been near the house, when you would have thought he would be here to support his cousin in his grief. As Ralph’s heir I think he should have done more to help him over the past two years, rather than to stay away. To my mind it shows a sad lack of family loyalty—but there, it is not my place to say so, and Ralph has not encouraged visitors for the past two years. He was in great danger of becoming a recluse, you know, which would have been a very bad thing for the family, so we must be grateful that he is holding the summer house party again this year and I shall say no more about Adam’s behaviour.’

Lucy was inclined to think Mrs Dean a little harsh in her judgement of Mr Cottingham. Despite his propensity for flirting, as the evening progressed Lucy decided that he was a very friendly, cheerful gentleman and a complete contrast to his cousin, whose unsmiling countenance and taciturn manner were even more marked than usual.

* * *

Lucy found only Mrs Dean in the breakfast room the following morning, Lord Adversane having already gone off to Ingleston on business with Harold Colne. Her thoughts turned to the forthcoming house party.

‘Is there anything you would like me to do, ma’am?’ she asked.

‘I rather thought we might go over the arrangements together later today,’ said Ariadne. ‘I have several urgent letters that I must write this morning so Byrne can have them taken to catch the mail. I am sorry, my dear—’

‘No, no, that suits me very well,’ replied Lucy. ‘It is such a lovely morning that I thought I might walk to Druids Rock.’

‘Alone?’

‘Of course, alone. It is Adversane land, I believe, so surely it is safe enough.’

‘Well, yes, my dear, of course it is safe, as long as one does not ascend the rock itself—but I have always thought it such a forbidding place, especially since Helene’s accident...such tragic memories.’

‘It holds no such memories for me, although I admit I was reluctant to ask Adv—Ralph to take me for that very reason.’

‘If you will only wait until later I will come with you—’

Lucy chuckled. It had not taken her long to discover that while Ariadne liked to busy herself around the house, her idea of exercise was a gentle stroll in the shrubbery.

‘No, no, ma’am, I would not dream of troubling you,’ she said now. ‘Besides, it promises to be very hot later, and we would be better employed indoors than walking in the midday sun. No, I shall go this instant and thoroughly enjoy myself.’

Shortly after, attired in her sensible boots and carrying a shawl in case the breeze should be fresher on the moor, she made her way out of doors, pausing only to ask directions from one of the footmen, explaining with a twinkle that she did not wish to lose her way and put the staff to the trouble of finding her.

‘Nay, ma’am, that’s not likely, for Hobart’s Moor ain’t large and the path is well marked.’

‘I believe the lane leading from the wicket gate will take me there,’ she prompted him.

‘Aye, ma’am, that it will. Follow the lane through the trees and that’ll bring you to Hobart’s Bridge. Cross that and you’ll be on t’moor. There’s a good track then that brings you round to Druids Rock.’

Armed with this information, and the footman’s assurance that she could not miss her way, Lucy set off. The gate was in fact wide enough for a horse and she guessed the path through the trees had originally been intended as a ride. However, the undergrowth now encroached upon it and the trees grew unchecked, their branches almost meeting overhead. She was glad of her shawl for the morning shade was cool. The trees ended where the ride joined an ancient track that curved away around the belt of woodland in one direction and in the other it stretched out before her, winding down across a picturesque stone bridge and cutting through the distant moors.

She walked on and crossed what she guessed to be Hobart’s Bridge, pausing to look over the side at the fast-flowing little stream that tumbled over its rocky bed. Lucy followed the track, striding out briskly beneath the cloudless blue vault of sky. The path ran around a natural ridge in the moor, the land falling away to gorse bushes and the stream on one side while rugged slopes covered with rough grass and heather rose up on the other.

As the path wound onwards the views of Adversane were left behind and the dramatic landscape of hills and steep-sided valleys unfolded before her. She stopped several times, taking in the view and thinking how much her father would have loved to paint such scenery. She had captured some of it in her own sketchbook, but everywhere she looked there was another vista. So many views, she knew she would not be able to sketch them all before the house party was over and her employment at Adversane was ended.

She rounded a bend to find the ground ahead rising steeply and suddenly there was Druids Rock soaring above her. There could be no mistaking it, for it towered over the path at this point, dark and brooding, even in the sunshine. The old track ran to the south of the rock and continued down into the wooded valley below, which she guessed was the way to Ingleston, but Lucy chose a narrow path winding up through the heather. As she drew closer to Druids Rock she could see it was not one solid piece but a jumble of huge stones, pushed together as if by some giant hand. The southern face reared up like a cliff, but the northern side swept upwards in a gentle slope, easily ascended. Lucy did not hesitate. She walked up to the top of the ramp and stood there, revelling in the feel of the fresh breeze on her skin. It was like standing on top of the world.

Behind her, the natural rise of the moors blocked her view of the track and only the chimneys of Adversane were visible. Looking south, with the sheer drop at her feet, the valley opened up and beyond the belt of trees directly below her she could see the town of Ingleston nestling between the hills. Leading from it was the white ribbon of road that she had ridden with Ralph yesterday.

Lucy sat down on the edge of the rock, enjoying the peace and solitude. Below her, a few wagons and horses were moving silently along the road while the surrounding land below the moors looked green and well-tended, a network of tidy walls and neat farmsteads. Most of it, she knew, belonged to Adversane. Ralph. It was a good spot from which to see the extent of his domain, but she understood why he did not come here, if his wife had fallen from this very rock. Glancing down, she remembered Ruthie’s incautious words. Helene had come here in her evening dress. Had she really been so unhappy that she—?

No. She would not speculate. That would be a despicable thing to do. She scrambled to her feet and left her high perch. She would go back to the house and ask Mrs Dean what exactly had happened. She regained the track and set off back the way she had come. She had not gone far when she heard the thunder of hooves. Looking around, she saw the dark figure of Adversane cantering towards her. Lucy stopped and waited while he brought his horse to a plunging halt beside her.

‘Was it you, on top of the rock?’

He barked out the words, a thunderous scowl blackening his countenance.

‘Yes.’ She fought down the urge to shrink away or apologise. ‘It was such a lovely morning I wanted to explore.’

‘Explore! Don’t you know how dangerous those rocks can be?’

She replied calmly, ‘I am sure in the wet they are extremely treacherous, but the ground is dry, and my shoes are not at all slippery.’ She twitched aside her skirts to show him the sturdy half-boots she was wearing.

He glared down at her, and Lucy waited for the furious tirade that she felt sure he wanted to utter. After a moment’s taut silence she said quietly, ‘I am very sorry if I alarmed you.’

She thought she might have imagined his growl as her apology robbed him of the excuse to harangue her. He jumped down and by tacit consent they began to walk, with Jupiter following behind them.

‘I saw someone on the rocks and thought it was you. I came up to make sure you were safe.’

‘That was very considerate, sir, when I know you do not normally use this track. Is that because of what happened to your wife here?’

He threw a swift, hard glance at her.

‘Who told you? What have you heard about that?’

‘My maid said Lady Adversane fell to her death from the rock.’ She added quickly, ‘Please do not blame Ruthie. If she had not told me I should have asked Mrs Dean.’

‘I am surprised you were not told I’d killed her.’

Lucy stopped in her tracks. He gave a harsh laugh.

‘Oh, not literally. I was at the house when she fell, but it was known she was not happy.’

‘You mean they think she killed herself.’ Lucy’s parents had often deplored her blunt speaking and she glanced a little uncertainly at Lord Adversane, but he did not appear shocked so she continued. ‘Would she have done such a thing?’

‘I do not think so, but—’

Lucy put out her hand to him. ‘If she did take her own life, you must not blame yourself, sir.’

He was looking down at her fingers where they rested on his sleeve. Gently, she withdrew them. It had been an impulsive gesture, but he was, after all, almost a stranger. They began to walk on again and despite a little awkwardness Lucy did not want to let the moment pass.

‘Will you tell me?’ she asked him. ‘Will you explain what happened the night she died?’ When he did not reply immediately she added, ‘I beg your pardon. I have no right to ask—’

‘But you want to know, don’t you? If I will not speak of it then you will find out from someone else.’

She could not lie.

‘Yes.’

‘Then it is best you hear it from me. Helene walked here a great deal. Her father, Sir James, is—calls himself—a druid. Have you heard of The Ancient Order of the Druids, Miss Halbrook? Not so ancient, in fact. They were founded about five-and-twenty years ago by a man named Hurle and they are an offshoot of an older order, which Hurle considered too profane. They have their own beliefs and rituals, many based on nature and astrology. And of course they believe there is a link with the ancient standing stones.’ His lip curled. ‘There are no such stones at Adversane, but we do have Druids Rock. The name of the place goes back generations. No one seems to know why it was called thus, but certainly there have been no druidic rituals here in my lifetime, or my father’s. When Preston learned that Druids Rock was on my land he was even more eager for me to become his son-in-law. Even before the marriage had taken place he began to come to Adversane regularly to visit the rock. As did Helene during that last spring and summer when we were living at Adversane. She even went there in the dark, ostensibly to watch the sunrise.’

‘Ostensibly? You did not believe it?’ Lucy closed her lips. That was not the sort of thing one asked a man about his wife.

‘I did not question her beliefs,’ he said shortly. ‘But I did insist that she never went there unaccompanied. She agreed always to take her maid with her, and I was content with that.’ A faint, derisive smile curled his lip. ‘The locals fear the place is haunted by fairies and hobgoblins, but I never heard that they injured anyone. If she wanted to get up before dawn to go there I would not forbid it.

‘That is what she is thought to have been doing on Midsummer’s Eve. It is thought to be the reason she was still wearing her evening gown.’

‘Why did you not come with her?’

‘I have no time for superstition, Miss Halbrook.’

‘But what about romance?’ Those dark brows rose and she blushed. ‘Some would think it romantic to watch the dawn together.’

‘That would be as nonsensical as my wife’s druidical beliefs.’ His hard look challenged Lucy to contradict him, and when she said nothing he continued. ‘She was not missed until just before breakfast time, when her maid realised she had not gone to bed. I organised search parties, but it did not take long to find her. Druids Rock was the first place we looked.’

‘How dreadful for you.’

‘Not only for me, but for everyone who was staying at Adversane.’

‘And yet, you have invited the same people to join you here again?’

‘Yes.’

‘And you have invited the players to come in, just as they did the night she—the night Helene died.’

‘The Midsummer’s Eve play is a tradition, Miss Halbrook. It goes back generations, far beyond the tragedy of my wife’s death. It is not logical that it should cease because of one tragic event.’

‘But surely—’

He stopped her, saying impatiently, ‘Enough of this. We will talk of something else, if you please, or continue in silence.’

* * *

She chose silence, and Ralph found himself regretting it. She might infuriate him with her incessant questions but she was only voicing what others would think. It was as well that he had the answers ready. He acknowledged to himself that he had been misled by her appearance. In Mrs Killinghurst’s office, she had looked positively drab in the enveloping grey gown and quite demure. If he had known she would show such spirit he would never have employed her. A faint smile began inside him. He should be honest with himself. He did know, from that very first encounter in the alley.

He had deliberately positioned himself at the door of Mrs Killinghurst’s office so that he could observe the candidate for this post and he had seen Miss Lucy Halbrook walking towards him. He had noted the slight hesitation as she found her way blocked, then the way her head had come up as she approached him, determined not to be intimidated.

Yes, he knew from that first moment that she was not one to accept his demands without question. He should have told Mrs Killinghurst to send her away, to find someone more biddable. Even as the thought formed he realised that after Lucy Halbrook, anyone else would seem very dull indeed.

* * *

Lucy hardly noticed the continuing silence. Her mind was too full of what she had heard to make idle conversation. Lord Adversane was lost in his own thoughts and did not appear to object so she occupied herself with studying her surroundings, the rough grass and darker patches of heather, the view of the distant hills. Everything was new and interesting. Suddenly a swathe of white caught her eye, a shifting, snowy carpet nestling in a wide, flat depression a short distance from their path.

‘Oh, how pretty. What is it?’

‘Cotton grass.’ He strode across to the dip and picked a handful of the fluffy, nodding heads. ‘It grows on boggy ground. It can be used to stuff pillows, though it is not as good as goosedown.’

‘It looks very fine,’ she observed.

‘It is. Feel it.’

The breath caught in her throat as he brushed the white heads against her cheek. The touch was gentle, as light as thistledown, but it sent a thrill running through her body. She became shockingly aware of the man standing beside her. She wanted to reach out and touch him, to connect herself to his rugged strength. It was an immense struggle to compose herself and respond calmly.

‘It, um, it is as soft as silk.’

He held her eyes for a moment, a look she could not interpret in his own, then he turned away.

‘Unfortunately the strands are too short to be spun into thread.’

A faint disappointment flickered through her as he cast aside the grasses and began to walk on.

Did you expect him to present them to you like some lovesick swain?

With a mental shrug, she fell into step beside him again, walking on in silence until they had crossed Hobart’s Bridge and were approaching the belt of trees that separated the moors from Adversane Hall.

‘Does that way lead to the Hall, too?’ she asked, pointing to the old track where it disappeared around the trees.

‘Yes. It leads to the main gates, but it will be quicker if we go through the old ride.’

‘Is that what it is called? I came out that way,’ said Lucy. ‘I suppose Lady Adversane rode through it when she went to Druids Rock.’

‘No, my wife was a nervous rider and preferred to walk. I never come this way.’

She looked up at the overhanging branches.

‘And you have not had many guests since the accident, so consequently it is much overgrown.’

‘You are right. The only people to use it now are the servants, if they are walking to Ingleston.’

‘But it is such a delightful route, my lord. It seems such a shame that one cannot ride this way any more.’

‘It is a loss I can bear.’

They had reached the gate leading into the grounds of the house. Ralph was about to open it, but Lucy was before him, lifting the latch and walking through, as if declaring her independence. He found himself smiling as he watched her. She was a strange mix, quiet and a little shy, yet not afraid to challenge him, and not at all cowed by his sharp retorts. He had not spoken to anyone of Helene’s death for so long that it had been a relief to talk of it, so much so that he had had to stop himself from confiding his suspicions. But he could not do that, he was playing far too dangerous a game to involve anyone else. If he was wrong then innocent names would be mired by suspicion. It was his plan and he would share it with no one. He alone would take the credit for it. Or the blame.

Ralph guided Jupiter through the gate and closed it firmly behind him. Lucy was waiting for him. The wind had sprung up and she was busy trying to untangle her shawl.

‘Here, let me.’ He dropped Jupiter’s reins so that he could use both hands to take the shawl and drape it around her shoulders.

‘Thank you. There are rainclouds on the horizon. I am glad we are back in time to avoid a soaking.’

She was laughing, completely unaware of how pretty she looked, her windswept curls rioting around her bare head and her skin glowing from the fresh air.

Kiss her.

She was knotting the ends of her shawl, oblivious of his hands hovering over her shoulders. He snatched his hands away as she turned her head to address him.

‘What say you, my lord, will it last? Shall we be confined indoors by the inclement weather?’

She was peeping up at him through her lashes and he felt his blood stirring. It was unconsciously done, he would swear to it, but by God that look was damned inviting! With a silent oath he tore his eyes away from her. She was here for a purpose and he would not allow himself to be distracted.

‘There is rain on the way, certainly.’ He picked up Jupiter’s reins. ‘You can see the house from here, so there is no reason for me to come farther with you.’

Without another word, he threw himself into the saddle and dug his heels into the horse’s flanks. Soon they were flying across the park, and he had to concentrate to keep the big hunter steady. As Jupiter settled into his stride Ralph found the unwelcome feelings were receding. It was the novelty of having a young woman in the house, that was all.

Since Helene’s death he had thrown himself into his work on the estate and shunned female society. He saw now that it had been a mistake. If he had not been so reclusive he would not now find himself so desirous of Lucy Halbrook’s company, and he would not be so quickly aroused when they were together. After all, she was no beauty. It was her resemblance to Helene that had persuaded him to employ her, but the longer she was here the less he could see any similarity. Damnation, had he been mistaken? No, Adam had seen the likeness, he was certain of that.

‘She will have to do,’ he muttered as he bent low over Jupiter’s glossy black neck. ‘Only another couple of weeks and it will be finished. She will leave Adversane and I need never see her again. All I require of Lucy Halbrook until then is that she plays her part.’