A Little Deception (35 page)

‘Enjoying yourself, Helena?’ he panted. ‘You like it rough?
You certainly aren’t afraid to dish it out, are you?’ His hands, filled with
bank notes, thrust into her bodice.

‘There’s your money,’ he grunted.

‘Get away from me!’ she hissed, finally freeing herself.
Swinging back after she’d feverishly counted the bills, she burst out, ‘That’s
not nearly the agreed sum.’

‘And this is the closest I’ve got to being rewarded.’ His
eyes blazed. ‘Do you take me for a fool, Helena?’

‘You’ll be rewarded when you’ve fulfilled the terms of our
agreement—’

‘Three times I have thieved for you. Granted, it was a lark
the first time and the thought of my just reward creamed the deal. But,’ he
gripped her shoulder and shook her, ‘do you really imagine I’ll be satisfied
with smouldering looks and empty promises?’

‘You’ll get your rewards when—’

‘When what? I’ve set you up like the bloody Queen of Sheba …
only then you’ll be far too good for me!’

‘I just need—’

She was too stupid to see the signs. All she cared about was
the money.

***

Helena’s second intimate encounter was far more pleasing to
her although her reaction was just as fiery.

‘How dare you act so indiscreetly!’ she demanded after being
whisked from the saloon on to a balcony and into a passionate embrace.

‘Because you’re irresistible,’ came the smooth rejoinder.
‘Virgin or virago, you’re equally irresistible … says the only one who’s in a
position to judge.’

Helena snorted. ‘Don’t sound so smug. If you hadn’t cast me
a lure I couldn’t resist I’d not be married to Charles. Do you know how many
times I’ve damned you to hell?’

‘As many times as I have you?’

Leaning with her back against the railing for support she
covered her eyes with her hands.

‘This is madness, Geoffrey,’ she whispered. ‘I should hate
you for what you’ve done to me. Instead …’ She left the sentence hanging.

Geoffrey’s low, mocking laughter came in place of the
comfort for which she’d hoped. ‘You’re making the most of your revenge, Helena.
After that – imagine it – domestic bliss!’ He paused. ‘Though I doubt
domesticity will suit you.’

Helena shrugged. ‘You and I are destined to be together.’

‘Rather rich, coming from the woman who refused to run away
with me?’

‘I was seventeen and you were penniless!’

‘I was a man on the make. You had no faith.’

‘My father was pushing me to marry.’ Helena’s defence was
spirited. ‘I had not the luxury of refusing all offers while you got your life
in order, but how long did you wait after we quarrelled? Why, the very next
night I packed a bag and went to find you, only you had gone. Anyway, you
quickly saddled yourself with a replacement.’

‘Through threats and coercion after that simpleton threw
herself at me! Not even the son that was supposed to be the sweetener.
Stillborn!’ He swung round adding bitterly, ‘Three stillborn sons! Can you
imagine what that does to a man?’ Geoffrey’s thin lip curled. Discontented, he
didn’t look nearly as desirable, Helena thought.

She sniffed. ‘Well, my life hardly went to plan either.’

‘No! You just set your cap at Sir Hector, probably the one
man in the world who didn’t find you as irresistible as I—’

He stopped abruptly as the door was pushed open several
inches. There was loud chattering, then the conversation was broken by the
intruder’s abrupt suggestion of ‘punch first’. The door closed.

‘Enough of trysting! Champagne punch, my lovely?’ Geoffrey
proffered his arm and with a demure nod of acquiescence Helena placed her
gloved hand upon it.

‘Champagne punch to celebrate. Oswald was difficult.
However, we will have enough … when the final cache of jewels is delivered to
us,’ she sniggered, ‘by the ever-obliging Rose, thanks to her loyal little
maid.’

‘You’re sure you trust the girl?’

‘She’s as avaricious a dollard as is required. Besides, Beth
cannot read.’ After outlining the plan that promised her freedom, Helena added,
‘Beth is motivated by the sizeable bounty I’ve already advanced for merely
delivering the missive. With the doubling of the amount upon completion, I
doubt she’ll disappoint. She’s a greedy simpleton.’

Geoffrey laughed. ‘Pity the woman who tries to thwart you,
dearest,’ he said. ‘I’ll warrant the wench is motivated much more by fear of
you than by material gain.’

***

Dressing had not been such a time of tension for a long
while. First Rose discarded the coquelicot that Beth had laid out for her. No,
white was much more in keeping with the image she wished to present. Then the
expectation that had sustained her drained away and she sagged over her
dressing-table. What was the point?

One glance at Rampton’s cold look when he’d materialized so
unexpectedly in the Larchfield drawing room told her she had no hope of rekindling
the passion they’d once shared. Perhaps the purpose of his visit was to inform
her of his liaison with Helena.

‘Are you all right, my lady? Would you like a vinaigrette?’
Beth was unusually solicitous but Rose waved her away saying, ‘Just help me
dress. I’ll wear the primrose silk.’

Rampton was waiting to escort her in to dinner. Assiduous in
his duties as husband, there was more concern than warmth in his smile. Nor was
there opportunity for frank speech with his mother in attendance.

‘Rampton, your wife has been busy,’ the dowager told him
tightly, as the first course was cleared away, ‘showing us up. She’s met all
the tenants, inspected their living conditions, and plans to start a school so
the girls can learn their letters and a little sewing.’ She raised an eyebrow.
‘Giving them ideas above their station and setting them up for disappointment.’

‘It’s only one morning a week,’ protested Rose. ‘Obviously
the girls have to work, too. But for those who can set aside the time, and see
value in it, well,’ she blushed and looked defensive, ‘I think it’s helpful.’

‘It would perhaps be more helpful if you kept your husband
close.’

The clatter of a knife shifting position as it was carried
away sounded in the tense silence. Rose stood abruptly. ‘I have a headache,’
she whispered.

Instantly Rampton was at her side. She felt his hand clasp
her elbow, the touch sending a sharp pain of longing to her heart.

‘Mama’s words were unpardonable,’ he muttered as he thrust
open the door to her dressing-room, closing it behind them once Beth had
scuttled through.

Her legs felt boneless as she sank on to the divan. Watching
him carefully she could see the struggle it took him to face her, calmly.

‘Why did you deceive me?’

His words lanced her. She swallowed, turning her head away
as the old accusation returned to haunt her as she’d always known it would. She
had trapped him into marriage.

‘I never intended matters to get out of hand as they did.’ The
words rasped painfully through dry lips.

His expression seemed to contort with pain. Closing the
distance between them he gripped her shoulders, bringing his face close to
hers.

‘Did you not trust me enough to tell me the truth? You
pawned a valuable necklace, Rose. I have the evidence.’

She gasped, rearing up, angrily. ‘I might have trapped you
into marriage, Rampton, but I swear I’m telling the truth when I assure you
that is the extent of my crimes.’ Foul play was afoot. Her name had been
blackened by enemies, she saw exactly how it was. Rampton had been deceived
– but this not time, not by her.

‘Helena-’

‘Enough!’ His lip curled as he put her away from him and
made for the door.

Rose could not believe it. He was ready to believe Helena
above herself? Why, because she’d trapped him? Lured him with that
extraordinarily potent allure of hers so that Rampton’s enslavement made him
insensible to what he surely must know in his heart of hearts: that Rose was
innocent.

Already his hand was on the doorknob when Rose asked, her
words sounding amazingly bold to her own ears, ‘Rampton, why did you send me
away to the country … without a word of explanation?’

There, let him crush her with an avowal of his passion for
Helena. At least it would clear the air.

For a moment he said nothing. Rooted to the spot with his
eyes fixed on a painting on the wall, it was a moment before he met her look.

She had expected contrition, sympathy and relief at this
opportunity to unburden himself.

Instead his eyes smouldered; but not in the manner she
wanted. She trembled. How frighteningly devoid of warmth they were. She was
unaware she was holding her breath. Unaware of all but the slow, deliberate
approach of her husband.

What would he do to her? What did he want to do to her?
Certainly passion kindled in the depths of his eyes – but not passion of
a loving nature. She held her ground, refusing to move as her fear grew. She
would not put her arms out to ward him off. Or to hold him, which was her first
instinct.

His eyes bored into hers. Lightly, he traced a line from her
shoulder, down over her right breast. She caught her breath, desire making her
light-headed. She dared not speak, much less breathe, lest she spoil it. He did
desire her! She felt the joy physically expand her lungs.

And then disappointment sucked the air from them at his next
words.

‘Confess, Rose,’ he whispered, his tone ominous as he
gripped her wrists. ‘Confess so that I might forgive you.’

She shook off his hand while her thoughts roiled angrily
round her head.
Confess so you can be
with Helena, conscience-free?
 
So
this is what it had come to. She swallowed painfully. ‘You will never make me,’
she muttered.

IN
THE MORNING the letter was waiting for her. He must have entered her bedroom
while she was sleeping for there it was, propped up on her dressing-table, the
beautiful, formal script a chilling foretaste, she knew, of its contents.

‘Later, Beth.’ Rose waved the maid out of the room. She had
seen the letter the moment her maid woke her with a copper jug of warm water.

Hastily wrapping a Pomona green silk shawl about her
shoulders, Rose sat down at her dressing-table and, with trembling hands, tore
open the wafer.

Dear Madam…

She needed to read no further to understand that this was
not a love letter.

In just a few sentences Rampton set out the proposed course
of both their futures. Futures which held no place for them as a couple. Lust,
he wrote, had obviously set the tone for their relationship which, following
their marriage, had become poisoned by its descent into greater deception and
disillusionment. The prevailing situation, characterized by lack of love and
mutual respect now made their union intolerable to him and so he was offering
her an option that, he felt, promised greater future happiness to both. With
the money contained in the wooden box beneath the letter, Rose could resume her
life in the West Indies. Rampton would be free to spend his time unencumbered
in England for the next few months or until such time as he could stomach the
idea of joining her in order that she might produce the required heir.

If she left with Beth this morning there was just time for
her to reach Southampton where her ship was to draw anchor. He’d procured her a
passage and he would appreciate it if she were discreet about her departure.

‘M’lady?’

When Rose did not respond, Beth obviously felt no compunction
in imposing her presence upon her mistress, tidying the bottles on her
dressing-table, collecting the pins from the floor.

Rose continued to stare unseeing over the top of the
looking-glass and through the window. Only when Beth began laying out her primrose
twilled silk morning gown was she galvanized into action.

‘My blue travelling dress, if you please.’

‘Are we going somewhere, my lady?’

Rose might have expected more concern in her tone, knowing
how much her maid hated travelling, but her future yawned bleak and empty
before her.

Once she was dressed she dragged herself to the door,
fearful of coming across a member of the household, as if the shame of her eviction
was written upon her face.

‘Rose, you missed breakfast and Rampton left early this
morning.’ Arabella smiled her greeting from the bottom of the stairs. ‘Urgent
business. He said he didn’t want to disturb you. What’s happened?’ She frowned
as she took in Rose’s travelling attire.

‘I’m leaving,’ Rose announced, brandishing Rampton’s letter
as Arabella followed her into her room. ‘Rampton has decreed it.’

‘You’re over-reacting.’ Arabella looked perplexed. ‘You
can’t just go … without confronting Rampton.’

‘How can I when he’s made himself absent. Clearly, he
intended me to receive this letter before he returned. He wants to speak to me
as much as I want to speak to him.’