'Then we shall meet again at dinner.' He walked to the door.
'You haven't forgotten that we go to Knightson House tonight?'
He turned to look at her. 'You won't be too fatigued?'
'Of course not.' But I would much rather stay here with you.
She drew a breath, trying to frame her thoughts into words. 'But I would happily remain here, if you would rather not go?'
'No, no, you wish to go and I shall be delighted to escort you.' He smiled, gave a little bow and left her.
* * *
Dominique sank down on to the stool and stared into the mirror. Gideon was so polite, so distant. Not only did he avoid her room at night, but he rarely touched her now-the kiss he had just given her was a mere brushing of the lips. Her own had parted, but he had immediately drawn back, as if repulsed by the contact. Was Max right-did he want to go back to his bachelor existence? She wondered if she should tell him how much she missed his attentions, but she was afraid the admission would push him still further away. If the married ladies of her acquaintance were to be believed then a wife should keep her husband at a distance, never for one moment let him think she desired him. She must remain aloof, unattainable. Could that be true, when all her instincts told her the opposite?
Whenever she was with Gideon she wanted to put her arms about him, to touch him and kiss him. Such public displays were frowned upon. It might have been thirty years ago, but the Duchess of Devonshire's scandalous behaviour was still talked of-when, as a young bride, she had danced across the room to sit upon her husband's knee. If a duchess could not indulge in such forward behaviour, how much worse would it be for an ordinary lady, and one who was only half English? Gideon already had a deep hatred for the French, she must not give him even more cause to despise her. Sighing, she pushed herself up off the stool and went into the dressing room. She would talk to Gwendoline. When they were alone she would ask her again just what was and wasn't acceptable behaviour in a wife.
* * *
Dominique had lost no time in unburdening herself to her sister-in-law and had finished explaining her dilemma even before her teacup was empty. Lady Ribblestone was sympathetic.
'You are in love with Gideon.'
Dominique nodded miserably.
'Yes, I believe I am.'
'Oh, my poor girl.'
'I know,' murmured Dominique, trying not to cry. 'If Gideon knew of it, he would feel sorry for me and I do not think I could bear that.'
'Of course not.' Gwendoline sat for a moment, staring into space. 'Now, let us consider your problem. What is it you want from Gideon?'
'I suppose it is too much to hope that he might fall in love with me.' Seeing Gwen's doubtful look, she sighed. 'I know I cannot expect him to spend all his time with me, but I should like us to be...to remain friends.'
'Then you must make a life for yourself, show him you go on very well without him. A man does not like a miserable companion, but if he sees you are cheerful and content then he will be happy to spend time in your company.'
'Is that possible?'
'Oh, Lord, yes. It is the best one can hope for.' Gwendoline went quiet, as if contemplating what she had just said, but after a few moments she shook off her reverie. 'You could take a lover.'
'I do not want a lover,' retorted Dominique, her cheeks burning.
'No, perhaps that is for the best,' Gwen agreed with her. 'Gideon would be very likely to blame it on your French blood. However, it will do no harm if the gentlemen show a preference for you, my love, and they are already doing so. My efforts to turn you into a success seem to be working. Why, Lady Grayson told me how many gentlemen wanted to dance with you last night. But it is not just the gentlemen, every hostess in town is eager for your presence.'
'They are curious to see the bride Max foisted upon Gideon,' said Dominique bitterly.
'Those rumours are well and truly forgotten now, I assure you. They see you as the rich and fashionable Mrs Albury and, of course, as a future viscountess. Everyone is charmed by you and there is no better way to punish your mischievous cousin than to become society's darling.'
'I do not think I shall be going about in society for very much longer,' admitted Dominique. 'You see, I am...I am in an interesting state.'
'Already? Are you sure?'
Gwendoline's shocked response brought the colour flooding to Dominique's face again.
'Yes, but I would be grateful if you kept it to yourself, at least for a while.'
'Of course, my dear-but that is wonderful news. Does Gideon know?'
'Yes, I told him immediately.'
'And is he pleased?'
'I think so.'
'Well, that is a relief. I have no doubt he will want to take you to Rotham soon, to make you known to Papa. And you had best get used to standing up for yourself, for I doubt if Gideon will stay long with you there.'
Dominique felt her spirits sinking.
'That is what Max said. He s-said Gideon would be glad to be rid of me, so he could go back to his old life.'
'The Earl of Martlesham is an odious mischief-maker,' said Gwendoline frankly. 'Gideon's behaviour since he brought you to town cannot be faulted. He has been a model husband in public.'
'But only because he wants to show everyone that we are happily married. What if...what if he comes back to town and sets up a mistress?' stammered Dominique, voicing her deepest fear.
'That is a risk we all have to take,' said Gwendoline. She sighed. 'Not that Ribblestone has one, he is far too wedded to his politics. No, be advised by me-you must not show any tendency to cling to Gideon. And enjoy your remaining time in town as much as you can. Once you are immured in Buckinghamshire there is no telling when you will get away again. Heavens, is that the time? My coachman will be at the door any moment to take us to the park. And after that I shall drop you at Brook Street. You and Gideon are promised to attend the Knightsons' ball this evening, are you not? You must have plenty of time to change into another of those delectable gowns of yours. Everyone will be watching to see what new creation you will be wearing.'
Dominique laughed.
'There will be dozens of ladies there equally well dressed.'
'One or two, perhaps, but few can carry off the vibrant colours we have chosen for you. It makes you stand out in the crowd.'
'I am not sure I want to stand out, Gwen.'
'Of course you do. Gideon has already told me how proud he is of his fashionable wife.'
'Has he? Has he really?'
Gwen laughed and patted her hands.
'Yes, really, so let us not disappoint him!'
* * *
The Knightsons' midsummer ball was a crowded affair, but Dominique had so many acquaintances in town now that she was not overawed by the throng of people jostling to get into the ballroom. Her confidence was boosted by Gideon's compliments when they had arrived at Knightson House and she removed her cloak. She was wearing a new gown of green silk, a perfect match for the emeralds Gideon had given her on their first night in town, and she had piled her dark hair upon her head with just one glossy curl falling upon her bare shoulder.
'You continue to delight me, my dear,' he said, raising her hand to his lips.
She blushed at the compliment. He might well have spoken for the benefit of the other guests milling around them, but there was no mistaking the warmth in his eyes when he looked at her and she entered the ballroom with a smile on her lips and a song in her heart.
Her happiness continued when Gideon led her out for the first two dances and after that she was content for him to dance with his sister and other ladies of their acquaintance. Dominique herself was not short of partners, but by supper time she was eager to find her husband again. Her diminutive height proved a disadvantage as she pushed her way through the crowd, standing on tiptoe to try to see Gideon's tall figure. A slight jostling occurred and as she stepped back to avoid a cheerfully inebriated couple her heel came down upon someone's toe.
'Oh, I beg your pardon!' She swung around, an apologetic smile on her lips. The gentleman standing behind her was a stranger, but he was laughing.
'C'est rien. Madame...Albury, is it not?' He made her a bow. 'We have not been introduced, but in such circumstances...Raymond Lamotte, madame, à votre service. This is most fortunate. I have been wanting to talk to you.'
'To me?' She studied the young man before her. He was of average height and darkly handsome with his raven hair, cropped à la Brutus.
'Mais oui, madame. One could not help hearing the rumours...' He looked a little self-conscious. 'You are the daughter of a Frenchman, are you not?' Dominique was no longer concerned for the man's appearance. Seeing her intense look, he spread his hands. 'I fled from my beloved France several years ago. It broke my heart to do so, but...' he gave a shrug '...it is not the great country it once was.'