Lady Beneath the Veil(3)

           



       

The only gown she had with her was the olive-green walking dress she  had arrived in. It was not new, but the colour suited her, and with its  mannish cut and the gold frogging it looked well enough for an earl's  cousin. The embroidered lace veil would fill in the low neckline and  keep the cold March wind at bay. She squared her shoulders. If Gideon  Albury wanted to continue with this charade it would have to do.

To her consternation everyone was gathered in the hall, waiting for  her. They all seemed determined to pretend that this was any normal  going-away ceremony. Max ran up the final few stairs and gave her his  arm as though he was about to give her away all over again.

'I have had the maids fill a trunk for you,' he murmured. 'Can't have you going off without a rag to your back.'

He led her up to Gideon, who stood rigid and implacable. Dominique  glanced once at his face-it could have been chiselled from stone, so  cold and impassive did he look. Concealing a shudder, she dropped her  eyes to his exquisitely embroidered waistcoat. Perhaps he had ordered it  especially for the wedding, to impress his bride. She felt even more  ashamed of allowing herself to be a part of Max's cruel scheme.

With much cheering they were escorted to the waiting travelling  carriage, where her trunk was being strapped on the roof. She felt a  light touch on her shoulder as the carriage pulled away.

'Well, madam, are you not going to smile for your guests?'

She shrugged off his hand.

'How far do you intend to carry this joke, sir?'

'Joke?' His voice was icy. 'I do not know what you mean, madam. It was Martlesham who played the joke.'

'And you have repaid him. He was quite shocked when you said the marriage would stand.'

'Yes, his reaction was delightfully amusing.'

'You have had your fun, sir,' she said coolly. 'Now I pray you will abandon this charade.'

'Oh, it is no charade, madam. I am in deadly earnest.'

She stared at him, a cold hand clutching at her heart when she saw his implacable look.

'But-but you never meant to marry me. You cannot want me for your bride.'

'Why not? As I told Max, I have to marry sometime, and you are as good  as any other wife.' His eyes swept over her, as if stripping her naked  and she felt a hot blush spreading up through her body. She realised for  the first time how fully she had put herself in this man's power. She  summoned up every ounce of indignation to respond.

'That is outrageous!'

'Outrageous or not, madam, you should have considered every possibility  before you gave yourself to this plan. You married me, for better or  worse. There is no way back.'

* * *

Unsettled by the look of horror on his companion's face, Gideon closed  his eyes and feigned sleep. He was still furious at being duped into  marriage, but he had some sympathy with his bride. Knowing Max, he  suspected that pressure had been put on the chit to comply. But she  could have declared herself in church, if she had really objected to the  whole thing. No, he would punish her just a little more.

He wondered what they would find when they eventually reached Elmwood  Lodge. Carstairs had almost choked on his wine when Gideon had reminded  him that he had offered it-obviously no one had expected the marriage to  go beyond the wedding ceremony, so no arrangements had been made. While  everyone had waited for the bride to change her gown a rider had been  despatched to Elmwood on a fast horse to notify the servants that a  bride and groom were on their way.

How soon after they arrived he would call a halt to this masquerade Gideon had not yet decided.

* * *

When the carriage turned into the gates of Elmwood Lodge sometime later  it was immediately apparent that the news of their arrival had been  received with enthusiasm. The open gates were decorated with ribbons and  as they bowled up to the entrance an elderly couple appeared, the man  hurriedly buttoning his livery. Gideon recognised Chiswick, the butler  and man of all work, and the woman following him in her snowy apron and  cap was his wife and housekeeper of the lodge.

'Oh, lord,' Gideon muttered as the door was wrenched open. 'We are properly for it now.'                       
       
           



       

'Welcome, sir, madam! We are delighted you have come to Elmwood Lodge.'  Mrs Chiswick almost hustled her husband out of the way as she greeted  them with an effusion of smiles. 'If you would care to come into the  parlour, you will find cakes and wine set out there, and a roaring fire.  If we'd had more notice then the rest of the rooms would be ready for  you, too, but they may take a while yet, although I have sent for Alice  from the village to come and help me.'

Gideon jumped down and turned back to help his bride to alight. She did  so silently, looking pale and dazed. He pulled her hand on to his  sleeve and followed the still-chattering housekeeper into the house. The  large, panelled hall had been hastily decorated with boughs of  evergreens and spring flowers. Gideon's heart sank: the couple were  clearly overjoyed to be entertaining a pair of newlyweds. He felt the  fingers on his arm tremble and absently put his hand up to give them a  reassuring squeeze.

More early spring flowers adorned the wainscotted parlour where a  cheerful fire burned in the hearth and refreshments were set out on the  table. Gideon waited until his garrulous hostess paused for breath, then  said firmly, 'Thank you, Mrs Chiswick. We will serve ourselves.'

'Very well, sir. And...' She turned to look out of the window. 'Do your servants follow you?'

'No, we are quite alone.'

'Ah, of course.'

Her understanding smile brought a flush to Gideon's cheek and he dared  not look at his companion to see the effect upon her, but as soon as  they were alone he said, 'I beg your pardon. When Max told me your  servant was remaining at Martlesham to look after your mother I thought  it best to leave my man behind, too. Now I see that it has given rise to  the very worst sort of speculation.'

'Very natural speculation, given the circumstances.'

Her calm response relieved his mind of one worry: she was not going to  fall into hysterics. Yet he should not have been surprised. She could  have no proper feeling to have lent herself to this madness in the first  place.

He retorted coldly, 'These circumstances, as you describe them, are very much your own fault.'

'I am well aware of that.'

She took off her hat and gloves and untied the strings of her cloak.  When he put his hands on her shoulders to take it from her she tensed,  but did not shrug him off. He was standing so close behind her that he  could smell her perfume, a subtle hint of lily of the valley that made  him want to drop his head closer still, perhaps even to bend and place a  kiss upon the slender white neck exposed to his view.

Shocked at his reaction, he drew back. This woman was nothing to  him-how could he even contemplate making love to her? But the idea  lingered and it disturbed him.

Gideon threw her cloak over a chair with his own greatcoat, placing his  hat and gloves next to hers on the small side table. His temper was  cooling and he was all too aware of their predicament. Perhaps it was  not too late to remedy that. He dashed out of the room. He found the  butler crossing the hallway and called to him as he ran to the main  door.

'Has the coach gone? Quickly, man!'

'Y-yes, sir! As soon as you was set down. We took off the baggage and  they was away, wanting to get somewhere near home before nightfall,  there being no moon tonight.'

Gideon yanked open the door and looked out at the empty drive.

'But that was only minutes ago. We must fetch it back. There must be a horse in the stables you can send after it.'

Startled, the butler shook his head.

'I'm afraid not, sir. There's only Bessie, the cob, but she pulls the  carts and has never worn a saddle in her life. I suppose old Adam could  harness her up to the gig...'

Staring into the gathering darkness, Gideon realised it would be impossible for them to call back the carriage now.

'How far is it to the nearest town, or even the nearest inn?'

The butler looked at him with astonishment and Gideon thought grimly  how it must look, the bridegroom wanting to run away before his wedding  night! However, the truth would be even more unpalatable, so he remained  silent while the man pondered his question.

'There ain't an inn, sir,' he said at last. 'Not one as would suit you,  at any rate. And it's all of seven miles to Swaffham, but you wouldn't  be wanting to set out tonight, not without a moon.'                       
       
           



       

'No, of course not.' With a shake of his head Gideon stepped back from  the entrance, leaving Chiswick to close the door while he made his way  back to the parlour. He could hardly complain. After all, he himself had  hired the post-chaise and his instructions had been quite clear: it  would not be required again for two weeks. He had fully intended to  enjoy his honeymoon with his bewitching bride. Now he was stranded in  the middle of nowhere with a young woman he had never met before today.  And a respectable young woman at that, despite her part in this charade.  Damn Max and his practical jokes!