A Little Deception (20 page)

‘That’s exactly what I plan to do. Until I’ve satisfied
myself you’re not going to break your neck within a month of marriage I’ll
decide what’s best for you.’

Rose dropped her voice to a murmur and said, provocatively,
‘Perhaps the neighbours would think that a little drastic in order to rid
yourself of the wife you were forced to marry in haste.’

‘Madam, if we were not in public your inflammatory
suggestion might be met by a sturdier response.’ Grinning, as the groom led a
docile grey mare across the yard, he gave Rose’s bottom a small spank.

She was not expecting it and blushed as the groom raised his
eyebrows at her squeal.

‘’Fraid she’s the littlest, most docile one we ’ave, miss.
But if you’s afraid of ’orses—’ he said, misinterpreting her response.

‘No need to worry, Briggs,’ replied Rampton, leading Rose
across the cobbles. ‘I believe it was you who once remarked I’d as sure a touch
with the ladies as I have with the horses. Now Rose, as you can see, this is
the horse. Over here is what’s called a mounting block. I shall assist you to
get on to this creature’s back but you mustn’t scream. It only looks a long way
down.’

Ignoring Brigg’s mumbled response and fierce reddening and
his wife’s indignation, Rampton encircled her waist.

‘In answer to your previous question, my love,’ he murmured,
his breath tickling her ear, ‘the neighbours will soon be in no doubt as to
exactly why I was so eager to wed you, my little vixen.’ He glanced behind to
make sure he was unobserved, then skimmed Rose’s shapely contours before
hoisting her on to the horse. ‘Because I can’t keep my hands off you.’

She had a better seat than most, he was forced to admit. And
he did not mind telling her she looked extremely fetching in her severely cut
dark-blue velvet habit and her high crowned riding hat with its curling
feather.

Unexpectedly he found himself hoping they would be observed
by all and sundry as they traversed the country lanes and tracks. Rose would
certainly be seen to advantage here and, despite his casual reassurances to his
wife’s concern, he was just as anxious to dispel any speculation that this had
not been a marriage of his choosing, for all that had been true at the
beginning.

Good God! To think he had nearly thrown away this chance of
happiness.

Away from the house and Lady Rampton’s cold disapproval,
Rose’s high spirits returned. As soon as they were out of sight of the grounds,
trotting sedately along a bridle path that ran through the woods, Rampton
dismounted and, holding his arms up to receive her, told her there was
something he must show her.

Rose glanced around as his arms tightened about her.

‘What do you wish to show me?’ she asked, for she could see
nothing but lush foliage and tall trees.

‘How much I adore you,’ he replied; and for once his voice
held no irony, only a deep sincerity that left her in no doubt that she must be
the luckiest woman on the planet. A feeling that intensified as he brought his
head down and his mouth fixed upon hers in a kiss that stoked up intense,
lustful feelings that left her gasping when at last they broke apart.

Breathing heavily, Rampton traced her cheek with his
fingertips. ‘Don’t allow Mama to wound you, Rose,’ he told her with an
earnestness that made her heart cleave. ‘You’ll win her round though I can
assure you, a duke’s daughter would have received little warmer welcome. It’s
just the way she is.’

Rose appreciated his attempts to make her feel better. She
squeezed his hand and allowed him to help her remount. ‘Thank you,’ she said,
although she knew family relations would be a great deal easier had her past
been blameless.

Once through the wood they reached open country where they
gave their horses their heads and enjoyed as exhilarating a gallop as a docile
grey was capable of.

By the time they headed for home Rose was feeling a great
deal better; until there came an uncomfortable and somewhat perplexing encounter
along the way.

‘I say, the bridegroom returns.’ From around a bend in the
rutted lane appeared a tall young man on horseback. Judging by his attire and
the way his hair was curled Rose could tell he was what was called a
Corinthian. Attuned, to a degree, to her husband’s many moods, Rose was
conscious of him stiffening in the saddle.

‘And you, Geoffrey, I hear, managed to slither free of your
obligations.’

Rose hid her surprise. It was not often Rampton failed to
dress up his disapproval with jest.

‘Not without honour, my dear Rampton,’ replied the young man
with a graceful bow from the waist, smiling, despite his hostile reception. ‘If
your own wife were not herself such a beauty you might well have benefited from
my advice on such matters.’ He nodded at Rose, adding, ‘No disrespect intended,
Lady Rampton. Your husband and I are old friends.’ He paused. ‘But as he
appears to have forgotten his manners allow me to introduce myself. Your
neighbour, Geoffrey Albright, at your service.’ He gave another half-bow in the
saddle, his eyes lingering on Rose.

With a curt nod, Rampton prepared to move on.
 
‘Good day to you, Geoffrey. I believe we
expect the pleasure of your company at dinner.’

‘You must dislike him very much,’ Rose remarked glancing
back at the young man’s departing figure. ‘Your reception somewhat belied his
assertion that you are old friends. How long have you known one another?’

‘All our lives.’

***

With the last-minute cancellation of Mr and Mrs Brierly the
dinner party was reduced to eight. Rose learnt this by arriving at the drawing
room just before the event in time to hear the dowager mutter, ‘I don’t see why
you appear so surprised, let alone put out, Rampton. Frankly, I’m surprised the
Brierlys aren’t the only ones to have offered their apologies at the last
minute. It’s only because the rest of them thrive on salacious gossip that they
can’t bear to refuse an invitation to see the woman who has— Ah, Rose,
there you are,’ she broke off as she noticed Rose framed in the doorway. She
did not even blush.

‘The woman who has stolen my heart,’ said Rampton, softly,
warningly. Sweeping his mother with cold eyes, he moved to Rose and put an arm
about her shoulders. ‘Rose is the woman I love and that is the reason I married
her.’ He looked as though he was making an effort to keep his anger in check
and Rose was half-afraid, half-gratified by the expressions that flitted across
the dowager’s face: surprise, indignation and … apprehension. No doubt she knew
she had gone too far.

‘Rose, my love, shall we greet our guests?’

Despite Rampton’s earlier chilly reception of his old
companion, Geoffrey, he was cordial as he greeted him now, this time in company
with the young man’s parents.

Although Geoffrey’s starched shirt points weren’t so high as
entirely to obscure his cheekbones, it was apparent by his elaborately tied
cravat that Mr Albright aspired to high fashion. He was handsome in an affected
way, but Rose far preferred her husband’s understated elegance.

‘I hadn’t thought to see you returned so soon, Geoffrey.’
The dowager Lady Rampton greeted the young man with a certain reserve. ‘Rumour
had it you’d be gone another month.’

‘That’s why it was just a rumour,’ he replied, smiling as he
bent over her hand. ‘They’re simply buzzing around me at the moment.’

‘Yes, aren’t they,’ she replied drily, and again Rose
wondered what was his crime, if that was what it was.

Then the dowager was smiling almost coyly as she quizzed him
on his latest exploits. Obviously his crimes did not really matter, thought
Rose. People would never snub him by declining his dinner invitations. He was a
man.

A man who certainly knew how to charm for not a minute after
his frosty reception he was enjoying a tete a tete with his hostess who seemed
to be murmuring in a decidedly intimate manner and whose reference to the West
Indies had Rose twisting back from her stilted conversation with Geoffrey’s unforthcoming
step-father.

‘You look absolutely gorgeous, darling.’

Rampton’s murmured praise as he brushed past her enabled
Rose to muster a dazzling smile. She had won over her husband against the odds.
Now she must do the same with the neighbours she decided, as they all seated
themselves.

Taking comfort in her appearance was a novelty. In the West
Indies she had barely made the effort to dress her hair in anything but the
most rudimentary twist, nor had she worried about complexion enhancers. What
was the point when she owned no fine clothes? Or when there was no one who held
the least interest for her?

But while it bolstered her confidence to be so openly
admired by her husband and at least several of the gentlemen there, she wished
she’d not been seated next to Geoffrey whose bold and piercing looks made her
distinctly uncomfortable.

‘Lady Rampton, it is an honour to meet one of the ravishing
Chesterfields at last,’ he said, turning to address Rose now that his neighbour
had been engaged by the gentleman on her other side. ‘I believe the three of
you have taken London by storm this season.’

Glancing up from spearing her pigeon breast, Rose had half
anticipated the predictable gallant admiration, but his gaze was peculiarly
intense, frankly appraising, and distinctly unnerving. She licked dry lips,
uncertain how to answer, but certainly wary of appearing too cool, or too
encouraging. Certainly not until she knew better what kind of man Geoffrey
Albright was. She was saved from having to respond when he asked, unexpectedly,
‘Do you suppose we have met before?’

She drew back, startled. ‘I’ve only been in the country a
couple of months.’

Geoffrey leaned a little closer. His long, contemplative
silence was unsettling. At last he said, with a little laugh, ‘Perhaps in
another life, madam. I am sure that in another life we were once …’ he drew
back, his gaze flicking over her as if she were a prime article, ‘very close.’

Before Rose could voice her indignation Geoffrey resumed, ‘I
hear you sat to your brother-in-law, a noted portraitist.’

‘I hear you’ve been out of the neighbourhood,’ responded
Rose, coolly, though she was churning with disquiet inside.

‘Just in the neighbouring county, staying with friends.’ His
smile was bland before he turned the conversation back to her. ‘Of course, all
the talk was of town and the unexpected speed of your nuptials. You can imagine
how many fair noses were put out of joint when it was learned that the
beautiful but obscure Lady Chesterfield – I beg your pardon, Miss Chesterfield
– had no sooner stepped ashore from the colonies than she’d snared one of
the country’s most eligible and elusive bachelors. So, ma’am, having known
Rampton all my life, and how resistant he has been to marriage, you understand
why I have been excessively keen to meet you.’

‘It’s as well, then, that you’re such close neighbours,
since I’d hate to think you might have travelled a great distance only to be
disappointed,’ said Rose, leaning aside so she could be served from a platter
of beef.

‘I would not have been disappointed had you been cross-eyed
and hare-lipped. It was my curiosity that needed satisfying.’ Geoffrey’s eyes
reminded her in that moment of those of a well-fed cat, confident of itself and
its quarry. ‘Rampton’s idea of the perfect wife is a plain, docile girl who
will leave him to his own devices,’ Geoffrey went on, cruelly. ‘From what I
have heard, you are far from docile, and you most certainly are not plain.
Already you’ve led him quite a dance.’

Rose acknowledged his words with the barest of smiles,
forbearing to reply as she set upon her roast beef with knife and fork. She
felt embarrassed and trapped. Mr Albright, senior, on her other side, was deep
in conversation with Rampton’s mother. Glancing across the table she caught her
husband’s eye, and he, reading the desperation he saw there, went so far as to
breach good manners by leaning across the table to say, ‘I believe you’ve been
a guest of the Huntingdons this past fortnight, Geoffrey. Weren’t you supposed
to stay a month?’

Geoffrey gave a careless shrug but a faint blush belied his
assumed indifference. ‘A week would have been sufficient in such dull company,’
he said. ‘Naturally I had no desire to cause offence, so I invented the excuse
that Mama was poorly and wanted me home. If you’ve heard anything other then
it’s been invented.’

‘Ah.’ Rampton, nodded, as if satisfied that he had just been
furnished with the real reason while a wisp of memory curled around Rose’s
brain as she tried to recall if she’d seen Geoffrey Albright before. ‘Knowing
you, Geoffrey, as I do, I was unable to give credence to the rumours that have
been circulating. I see you’ve been admiring my new bride,’ he changed the
subject. ‘I had to act quickly to secure her consent before she set sail for the
West Indies. She was on the point of embarking, in fact, when I waylaid her’ -
he sent Rose a smouldering look, careless of the interest of the rest of the
table - ‘and finally overcame her resistance to the idea.’

When the guests had left and they were alone Rose looked up
from her dressing-table and asked, ‘Does Geoffrey Albright have a sister whose
aspirations towards marriage with you I might have blighted?’