Lady Beneath the Veil(18)

'Very much.' Dominique took her lead from Gideon and kept her tone  light. 'I have made so many friends here. Everyone is very kind.'

'Well, perhaps they don't know-'

'Oh, everyone knows the circumstances of our marriage,' Gideon  interrupted him, his voice dangerously quiet. 'The society columns of  the news-sheets carried little else for weeks after we arrived. They  were very well informed.'

A cruel smile curled Max's mouth.

'Were they, indeed? I wonder how that occurred.'

'Some malicious troublemaker,' replied Gideon. 'But their efforts were  wasted. We have shown everyone that we are the epitome of domestic  bliss. And you will be pleased to know my wife is becoming a firm  favourite with all the hostesses. Ask anyone in town.' He smiled. 'But  what are we thinking of? Perhaps you would like to take a glass of wine  with us, to toast our felicity-'

'Thank you, no.' Max rose abruptly. 'I have an engagement to dine with friends.'

'Then Judd will show you out,' murmured Dominique, moving over to the bell pull. Max followed and took her hand.

'Accept my felicitations, Cousin. I am...pleased...to see you so comfortable.'

'Thank you.'

'And I have to thank you, too, Max,' said Gideon pleasantly. 'You have  provided me with a perfect wife. Who could ever have thought things  would work out so well?'                       
       
           



       

Without a word the earl gave another clipped bow and left the room.

Gideon smiled.

'I think we have done well, there, my sweet. Your dear cousin is not at  all happy that his plans have misfired so spectacularly.'

She said slowly, 'We have made a fool of him, Gideon. He will not like that.'

'No, but he cannot alter it, so if he has any sense he will shrug and  accept the situation.' Gideon glanced at the clock. 'I suppose we must  change for dinner. We are engaged to join some card party tonight, are  we not?'

'Yes, Lady Torrington's,' she said absently. 'Gideon-what you said,  about helping Maman...would you mind if I tried to discover something  about Papa? I was afraid to mention it before...'

He put his fingers under her chin.

'My dear, you should not be afraid to ask anything of me.'

His tone was light, but the warmth she had seen in his eyes earlier had disappeared.

'Are you angry with me, Gideon, because I want to find my father?' she  challenged him. 'I cannot stop loving him, just because you have cause  to hate all Girondins.'

His hand dropped.

'Who told you that?'

'Gwendoline. She-she told me about your aunt and uncle. And your brother.'

'Then you know my hatred is well founded.'

'But if you knew Papa-'

'I have no wish to know him,' he snapped. 'He was part of the regime  which caused the death of three people very dear to me. That I can never  forgive.'

'As you can never forgive me for being his daughter.'

There, she had said it. Dominique trembled at her own temerity. The  colour drained from his face and his mouth became a thin line as he held  back his anger. He turned away and walked to the fireplace where he  stood with his back to her, staring down into the flames.

'I have tried to forget it, these past few weeks,' he said at last. 'But it is always there, a ghost between us.'

She walked up to him and put her hand on his shoulder.

'We have not fared so very badly, have we? We have to keep trying, Gideon. We have to make this work.'

'To prove Max was wrong? I am beginning to think that game is not worth the prize.'

'No, this is nothing to do with Max.' She ran her tongue over her dry  lips and swallowed. She said, forcing the words out, 'I am carrying your  child.'

He said nothing, but she felt a shudder run through him. She removed  her hand and stepped back. The silence continued, unbroken, and at last,  with a sigh, she turned and left the room.

* * *

Dominique fled to her bedchamber. Kitty was already there, waiting to  help her change for dinner. She thought about dismissing her maid and  indulging in a hearty bout of tears, but instead she fought down her  unhappiness and allowed herself to be helped into the blue satin she had  chosen to wear to Lady Torrington's card party.

* * *

Long after the door had closed Gideon remained staring down into the  fire. So this was it, the last link in the chain that would bind him to  his wife forever. A child. How ironic, that the heir to Rotham should  have French blood in his veins, after all his family had suffered at the  hands of that nation. It might be a girl, of course, but what did it  matter? He would not cast off the mother of his child.

He raised his eyes to the mirror. It was as if the ghosts of his  brother and his aunt were at his shoulders. He waited, expecting to feel  their disapprobation, but he felt...nothing. This baby was innocent of  its history-as was his wife. He realised that he was in an impossible  position: he could not turn his back on his marriage, any more than he  could give up his inheritance. Nicky might not be the wife he had  dreamed of, and he had never wanted to be his father's heir, but it was  so. It was too late for regrets, he must move on and make what he could  of his life.

There was a tangible lightening of the air around him, as if the shades of his brother and his aunt had disappeared.

* * *

Dominique was sitting at her dressing table while Kitty put the  finishing touches to her hair when Gideon came in. Quietly she dismissed  her maid, but remained in her seat, looking into the mirror as Gideon  came to stand behind her.                       
       
           



       

'What you said. A baby. Are you-quite sure?'

She nodded. 'As sure as I can be.' She saw the dawning wonder and  confusion on his countenance and turned to face him. He dropped on to  one knee and took her hands.

'Then...perhaps you should be resting-do you want me to send our apologies to Lady Torrington?'

'No, no, there is no need for that.'

'Then, what shall we do? What do you want to do?'

His bewilderment dragged a shaky laugh from her.

'I want us to have dinner, Gideon, and to go to Torrington House. It is  early days yet, no one need know that I am increasing.' She met his  eyes. 'I want us to go on exactly as we are, Gideon.'

'Are you sure?'

'Yes, I am very sure.'

She did not have the courage to ask him not to avoid her bed and could only hope he understood her.

'Then I will go and change.'

'Please do.' She smiled. 'You will incur Cook's wrath if his dinner is spoiled because he has to wait for you.'

She turned back to her mirror, to pin up the last few curls.

'One more thing.' He stopped at the door. 'Of course you must do  everything you can to find your father. You do not need to involve me-I  will direct Rogers, the family lawyer, to come and see you.'

Even as she struggled to find the words to thank him, he was gone.

* * *

Gideon was more attentive than usual at dinner and towards the end of  their evening at Torrington House, instead of going off to join his  friends at White's and leaving his wife to make her own way home, he  elected to accompany her back to Brook Street. When she remonstrated  with him, declaring that she did not wish to curtail his pleasure, he  replied with perfect sincerity that escorting her home was his pleasure.

They were in the hall, waiting for their carriage, and as he took his  wife's cloak from the footman and gently placed it about her shoulders,  Gideon reflected on the change that had come over him in the past few  months. By heaven, he was becoming quite domesticated! His wife's soft  voice brought him back to the present.

'I heard Mr Williams say you had been invited to Martlesham House.' There was a note of uncertainty in her voice.

Gideon gave her shoulders a little squeeze.

'I have no interest in associating with Max or his friends.' He  escorted her to their waiting carriage and settled himself comfortably  beside her before adding, 'I think I have outgrown such company.'

'I am glad. I fear Max has little regard for the feelings of others.'

'None at all, but it was not until he hoaxed me that I saw just how  thoughtless he is.' He turned towards her, saying earnestly, 'I was  careless, too. It was wrong of me to punish you for his trickery. I was a  fool, Nicky, but I hope I have learned my lesson now.'

'Oh, Gideon-'

'I know this marriage is not what either of us wanted,' he rushed on,  needing to explain, to make amends. 'But it will not be so bad, I  promise you. I have no doubt we will rub along very well. And once the  little matter of an heir is out of the way I shall not importune you  with unreasonable demands.'

She had twisted in her seat and raised her hand, as if to touch his cheek, but now it fell again.

'Un-unreasonable?'

'Yes. I shall not expect you to submit to my...attentions.' He frowned. 'What is it, Nicky? Have I upset you?'

'No, no.' She shook her head quickly. 'I am merely tired, that is all.'

She drew back into the shadows of the carriage and they lapsed into  silence. Gideon hoped she understood what he had been trying to say. He  feared he had phrased it very badly, yet he could not bring himself to  state it quite as baldly as his father had done. Gideon could still  remember his father's words as they had lowered the wasted body of the  viscountess into the family vault. 'So many years of pain, the stillborn  babes, the illness-if I had taken a mistress for my lusts I would have  spared your poor mother a great deal of suffering.'