Lady Beneath the Veil(11)

Sitting alone now in the drawing room, she felt thoroughly ashamed and  knew she should be grateful that he treated her with any kindness at  all. Thoughts of their wedding night returned and she wrapped her arms  about her, as if to hold the memory close. Desire had made her reckless  and she had given in quite freely to the passion that had swept them up,  but she knew-from what she had overheard from the gossiping servants  and her own observations at Martlesham Abbey-that it was different for a  man. Gideon's taking her that night had been no act of love, it had  been simply lust, easily roused and as easily forgotten. She was not the  woman he loved, merely a substitute.

Dominique wondered if she dared go to bed, but decided the proprieties  must be observed and asked Mrs Wilkins to bring in the tea tray when the  master joined her in the drawing room.

* * *

When Gideon came in she was relieved to see that the shuttered look was gone and he addressed her in a cheerful, friendly tone.

'I have been thinking, Nicky, I have not yet given you a wedding  present. I shall take you to Rundell's and you shall choose something  for yourself, but in the meantime I found this-my godmother's jewel  case.' He held out a small leather box. 'Most of Godmama's jewellery is  at the bank, but you might like these trinkets to be going on with.'

Dominique set the case on her lap and pushed up the clasp, her eyes  widening as she opened the lid. The contents glittered in the  candlelight. A profusion of gold and silver and coloured stones winked  up at her.

'Th-thank you,' she murmured, bemused. She pushed her fingers gently  into the tangle and lifted out a handful of the jewels, letting them  fall back into the box in a sparkling cascade. 'They are beautiful,  Gideon, thank you.'                       
       
           



       

'Some of the stones-perhaps all-will be paste,' Gideon explained,  watching her. 'I noticed that you wear no jewellery, but I thought these  trinkets might amuse you.'

'Amuse!' She gave a little laugh. 'They are much more than amusing. We  brought very little to England, Papa disposed of everything to pay for  the journey, including most of Mama's jewels.'

'No doubt she kept her most precious pieces to pass on to you?'

'They have all been sold now. The attempts to find information about Papa have cost her a great deal.'

'But surely Martlesham...?'

Dominique shook her head.

'While my uncle lived we were very comfortable, but once Max became  earl he said he could no longer afford to fund Mama's search for my  father. She sold her jewels, gave him everything she had to pay the  bribes the French officials demanded for information, but it all came to  nought. Max thinks Papa is dead and would do nothing more than frank  Mama's letters.' She bit her lip. 'You have a penniless bride, Gideon.'

'Martlesham told me as much before the banns were called.'

Colour stained her cheeks, but she refused to look at him.

'But then you thought you were marrying someone else...'

An uncomfortable silence fell. Gideon felt a tug of sympathy and a keen desire to distract her from her unhappy thoughts.

'May I?' He reached down and pulled out a necklace gleaming with green  fire. 'This would suit you, the stones are the colour of your eyes. I  remember Godmama wearing it and there should be some ear-drops in there,  too...'

'Yes, here they are.' She looked up. 'May I put them on now?'

'Of course.' He watched her, smiling at her enthusiasm as she carefully  put the box down and went over to the mirror to fix the ear-drops in  place. He followed her across the room. 'I was right, the colour does  suit you. Let us add the necklace.'

She laughed. 'First I must remove the kerchief.' She reached around and began to fumble with the knot at the back.

'Here, let me.' Gideon untied the lacy ends and pulled it carefully away from her shoulders.

Without the concealing fichu it was apparent just how badly the dress  fitted. Its original owner had obviously been of much more generous  proportions than the waiflike creature who stood before him. Even with  the drawstrings pulled tight the décolletage was extremely low, exposing  the gentle swell of her bosom and more flesh than was becoming. Even as  the thought entered his head he knew he was being unfair. Many ladies  wore dresses as revealing as this, possibly even more so.

A glance in the mirror showed him that his wife was uncomfortable. One  hand had come up to her breast, as if to protect herself from prying  eyes and a faint blush mantled her cheeks. He smiled, wanting to  reassure her as he carefully put the necklace around her throat. She  tilted her head, lengthening the back of her neck, and as he brushed  aside the dark curls his fingers grazed the delicate ridge of her spine.  He wanted to place his lips there, then to trail a line of kisses  across the soft whiteness of her shoulder, where the candlelight played  upon the exposed skin. But she had trembled as he struggled with the  catch. She was clearly frightened of him-why should she not be, since he  had taken advantage of her innocence in such a way? Besides, to kiss  her now would be the action of a lover and he could never be that.

He removed his hands and stepped back.

'There. You have a beautiful neck and the emeralds enhance it.'

She seemed to stand taller at his compliment and his breath caught in  his throat when he met her eyes in the mirror. They twinkled with a shy  smile that far surpassed the gleaming emeralds.

How long they would have remained there he did not know, for at that  moment the housekeeper bustled in with the tea tray and the mood was  broken. Nicky reached for her kerchief, but he held it away.

'No, you look very well like that, so there is no need to cover up again. Unless you are cold?'

'Not in the least, sir. There is a good fire in here, you see.'

'Indeed there is,' agreed Mrs Wilkins, setting the tray down on a small  table. 'The mistress used to say this was the cosiest room in the house  when the fire was burning.' She glanced back at the nervous housemaid  following her into the room.' That's right, Jane, put that down  here-it's the spirit kettle,' she explained as the maid set down the  shining silver pot and its burner on a small square wooden stand beside  the tea table. 'It hasn't been used since the mistress died, but I  thought it should come out again, now we have a new mistress in the  house.'                       
       
           



       

'How thoughtful of you, Mrs Wilkins.' As the servants bustled away  Dominique returned to the table, throwing Gideon a look that was  brim-full with mischief. 'Since Mrs Wilkins has gone to so much trouble  you will have to take tea with me this evening, sir, even if you do  consider it to be maudling your insides.'

He grinned, pleased to have their previous easy companionship restored.  He took a seat on the opposite side of the hearth, where he could watch  her. It was very restful, he thought, to be sitting at one's own  fireplace with no need to go out for company or entertainment.

* * *

Dominique took great trouble brewing the tea. Gideon must have seen his  mother do this a hundred times and she did not want to fall short of  his expectations. And when she at last held out a cup to him, she had to  try hard not to feel self-conscious in her low-cut gown. The emeralds,  be they paste or real, rested heavily upon her neck and gave her a  certain amount of reassurance. Gideon had given them to her and he was  smiling now, so she was confident she was not offending him. She  recalled the touch of his hands on her skin when he had fastened the  necklace. It had caused such a leap of desire that she had found it  difficult to keep still. If they had been sweethearts, she thought she  would have turned and kissed him to thank him for his thoughtfulness,  but they were strangers, thrown into marriage, so she must be careful  not to put herself forwards.

* * *

'My sister Gwendoline is in town,' he said, settling back in his chair.  'I shall visit her tomorrow to explain our situation and ask her to  take you shopping.'

Dominique almost dropped her cup.

'You-you will tell her about our marriage?'

'Of course. There is no point in hiding it. As soon as Max and his cronies return it will be all over town anyway.'

'I suppose you are right. But will she want to help me?'

'She is my sister and will want to dispel any gossip.'

Gideon replied with calm certainty, but Dominique was not so sure.

* * *

It was in a mood of trepidation that Dominique went downstairs to greet her visitor two days later.

She was immediately struck by the likeness between brother and sister,  the same auburn hair and hazel eyes, but although Lady Ribblestone was  tall she could not be described as lean. A gown of the finest cream  displayed her ample figure beneath the holly-green pelisse that hung  open from her shoulders, while a matching bonnet of the same dark green  silk sat jauntily on her burnished curls.