Lady Beneath the Veil(20)

'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.'