Lady Beneath the Veil(4)

Chapter Three

Gideon returned to find the lady in question pacing up and down the  parlour. He said as calmly as he could, 'It seems we are stuck here, at  least until the morning.'

'Was that not your intention?'

Her glance scorched him and he frowned.

'No, I had not thought it out. I was angry.'

'And now?'

'Now I realise that it would have been better if we had remained at the Abbey.' He paused. 'We are in the devil of a coil.'

She sighed. 'I know.'

His eyes fell on the table.

'Shall we sit down?' He held a chair for her, thinking that they were  like two cats, warily circling each other. When they were both seated he  filled two glasses and pushed one towards her. 'Why did you agree to  Max's outlandish scheme? You do not look like the sort to indulge in  practical jokes of your own accord.'

'No.' She put a small cake on to her plate and broke it into little pieces.

'Did he offer you money?'

'Something of that sort.'

'But you are his cousin.'

'An impoverished cousin. My mother brought me to England ten years ago,  seeking refuge with her brother, the earl-Max's father. When Max  inherited Martlesham he also inherited us. We have been living off  charity ever since. A few months ago Max set us up in a cottage in  Martlesham village.' Her fingers played with the crumbs on her plate.  'He promised... If I agreed to take part in his scheme, he would sign  the property over to my mother and give her a pension for the rest of  her life.'

'And for this you would marry a stranger.'

Her head came up at that. She said angrily, 'Do you know what it is  like to be someone's pensioner? To know that everything you have, every  penny you spend, comes from someone else?'

'As a matter of fact I do, since I am a younger son. For many years I was dependent upon an allowance from my father.'

Their eyes clashed for a moment, then her glance slid away and she  continued quietly, 'Max promised it would only mean going through the  ceremony. He said that once the trick was uncovered the marriage would  be annulled.'

'The devil he did!' Gideon pushed back his chair and went to the  window. The darkness outside showed only his scowling reflection. 'The  servants must have known what was going on-that the woman I thought was  Martlesham's cousin was an impostor.'

'Yes. Max threatened instant dismissal to anyone who did not go along with his deception.'

He turned back to face her.

'And your mother? Will Max explain everything to her?'

'I doubt it.' She bit her lip. 'Max tends to think only of those things that affect him.'

'But won't she worry about you?'

She looked down at her hands clasped in her lap.

'I wrote a note for her, telling her that I would be remaining at the Abbey for a few days.'

'And she will be content with that?'

Her head dipped even lower.

'Maman has her own concerns and will think nothing amiss.'

Gideon finished his wine and poured himself another glass. Dominique-he  almost winced. He must get used to calling her that. The girl had  hardly touched her wine and the cake lay crumbled on her plate. A tiny  spark of sympathy touched him.

'Do not despair,' he told her. 'In the morning we will return to Martlesham and I will arrange for an annulment.'

'And until then?'

Her gaze was sceptical.

'We are not alone here. Mrs Chiswick is a respectable woman and, when  we tell her there has been a mistake she will look after you until we  can get you back to Martlesham.' He tried a reassuring smile. 'I think  she can be relied upon to protect your honour.'                       
       
           



       

Dominique forced herself to meet his eyes, wondering at the change in  tone. It was the first time Gideon Albury had done anything other than  glower at her. Oh, he had smiled in the church, but then he had thought  her someone else. Now he was smiling at her, plain little Dominique  Rainault, and her heart began to thud with a breathless irregularity.  Often in the preceding weeks she had dreamed of such a moment, but had  never expected it, not after the scene outside the church that morning.

The revulsion she had seen in his face had quite chilled her and since  then he had regarded her with nothing but repugnance. She was not  prepared for the sudden charm, or the way it made her want to smile  right back at him. Common sense urged her to be cautious. Despite the  attraction she felt for him he was, after all, one of Max's cronies, one  of that crowd of irresponsible young bucks who were more than happy to  play cruel jokes upon one another. Just because he was the victim of  this particular jape did not mean she could trust him.

* * *

There was a light scratching on the door, and the housekeeper peeped in.

'Beggin' your pardon sir, madam, but I was wondering if you would be  wishing to change before dinner? The bedchamber's not prepared yet, but  your trunks have been taken up to the dressing room and there is a good  fire burning in there...'

Gideon shook his head.

'I will not change, but perhaps Mrs Albury would like to make use of it?'

'Yes, thank you, I would like to wash my face and hands.' Dominique  made for the door, thankful for the opportunity to gather her thoughts.  Unfortunately, the housekeeper was eager to talk as she escorted her up  the stairs.

'I haven't had a chance to make up the bed, ma'am, for Alice hasn't  come yet so I've only got Hannah, the scullery maid, to help me and I  can't trust her to look after the kitchen, but I shall get around to  that just as soon as I have finished cooking dinner. If only we'd had  more notice, we would have been able to give you a welcome more suited  to a new bride, but there, Mr Carstairs has never been one to give us  much warning.' The woman gave a wheezy laugh as she opened the door to  the dressing room. 'I've no doubt he'll descend upon us one day with a  bride of his own, and never a bit o' notice of that, either!'

Dominique knew this was her opportunity.

'Mrs Chiswick, could you have another bed made up for me, if you please, in a separate chamber?'

The housekeeper gave a fat chuckle as she went around the room lighting the candles.

'Lord bless you, dearie, you won't be needing that tonight.'

'But I shall. You see, this is all a mistake, I never intended-'

Dominique found her hands caught in a warm clasp.

'Now, now, my love, you ain't the first young bride to have last-minute  nerves. Do you not know what to expect on your wedding night?'

'Well, yes, but that's not it...'

'Now don't you be worrying yourself, my dear, I've been with Mr  Chiswick for nigh on thirty years and I can tell you that you have  nought to worry about, especially with a kind young man like Mr Albury.  He's always been a favourite here at Elmfield, more so than many of Mr  Carstairs's friends, I can tell you. But there, it's not for me to  criticise the master. Anyway I'm sure Mr Albury will take very good care  of you. You just go and enjoy your dinner, and I've no doubt that once  you and your man are tucked up warm and cosy in the bedroom next door  you will enjoy yourself there, too!'

Dominique looked into that kindly, smiling face and knew she would have  to tell the housekeeper that she and Mr Albury were not really man and  wife and must have separate rooms. She took a deep breath.

'Thank you.'

The explanation withered before it even reached her tongue. The idea of  confessing the truth-and her own collusion in the deception-even to  this kind-hearted soul, was beyond her. She shrivelled at the very  thought of it and allowed the housekeeper to withdraw without uttering  another word.

Dominique berated herself soundly. She should have insisted Mrs  Chiswick make up another bed for her and put a second bed in the room  for herself. She removed the lace fichu and poured water into the basin  to wash her face. Did she really expect Gideon Albury to keep away from  her if she did not take such measures? She might think him charming, but  what did she really know of him? Should one not judge a man by his  company? He was friends with her cousin and Max was a cruel bully.                       
       
           



       

The heavy gold band on her finger touched her cheek, reminding her of  her perilous situation. She was married. The register had been signed  and she now belonged to the man sitting downstairs in that snug little  parlour. The law of the land was quite specific: she was his property,  to do with as he wished. A shiver ran through her.

The distant chiming of a clock caught her attention. She had dallied as  long as she dared, but she could not remain in the dressing room  forever. Picking up the bedroom candle, she snuffed the other lights and  made her way out through the adjoining bedchamber. The large canopied  bed loomed dark and menacing in the centre of the room, the hangings  casting ominous shadows over the bare mattress. Dominique averted her  gaze, looking instead around the room. A large linen press stood against  one wall next to a bow-fronted chest of drawers, while under the window  was a pretty little writing desk, still adorned with its accessories.  As she passed the light glinted on the silver inkstand with its  cut-glass inkwell, silver nib box and a fine ivory-handled letter  opener.