The Regency Season: Blackmailed Brides: The Scarlet Gown / Lady Beneath the Veil

* * *

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.’

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.