Anne Ashley (19 page)

All at once Luke was noticeably more alert. He ceased playing
with her hair, though the strands remained entwined about his fingers. ‘Yes, he
did… That is interesting! Evidently someone, somewhere, must have recognised him
whilst he was travelling through the district. Perhaps Sir Henry or Lady
Willoughby were out and about that day. I happen to know they are acquainted
with him.’ He shook his head. ‘I don’t think we need concern ourselves unduly.
Petersham knows nothing of Sir Bartholomew’s secret activities—of that, I’m
certain. Petersham’s naturally curious as to what goes on hereabouts. He needs
to remain on his guard at all times. Anything out of the ordinary would
naturally rouse his curiosity and would require investigation. But in no way did
he convey the impression that he was suspicious about us before he left here.
Quite the contrary, in fact!’

He looked directly at her for the first time in many minutes,
his eyes momentarily widening as he focused on her hair and quickly withdrew his
hand. ‘Er, yes,’ he muttered, rising hurriedly to his feet and moving across to
the door. ‘As I said before, I don’t think we need be unduly concerned. You
played your part of the loving, devoted wife exceedingly well, Briony,’ he
added, smiling crookedly. ‘Why, you almost had me fooled!’

But it wasn’t an act, she longed to assure him. But he’d
already left the room.

Chapter Fourteen

T
he day Briony had been dreading arrived
all too soon. Luke never so much as uttered a single word, yet she knew, knew
from the very moment she took her seat opposite him at the breakfast table, that
that all-important despatch from London had reached him. Whether Sir Bartholomew
had sent instructions by private messenger, or the footman had been dispatched
to the receiving office earlier that morning and had already collected a certain
vitally important letter for his master, she had no way of knowing. All the
same, there was a suggestion of tension about Luke, a hint of resolve in the set
of his shoulders and about his mouth, as though to confirm that nothing and no
one could ever hope to detract him from his purpose. As if she didn’t know that
already! At least she knew nothing she could say would ever persuade him to
leave a certain someone’s fate in the hands of others.

From the day of Miles Petersham’s unexpected visit, almost a
fortnight before, there had been a change in Luke’s attitude towards her.
Although she wouldn’t go so far as to suggest he had deliberately avoided her
company whenever possible, though they seemed to have been alone together far
less often, there had seemed a certain reserve about him. That easy camaraderie
that had eventually developed between them had almost overnight disappeared
completely. If he hadn’t gone out of his way to keep his distance in any
physical sense, he had certainly seemed to have done so mentally. During the
past two weeks he had never attempted to engage her in small talk. In fact, only
once had he resembled the companionable man she knew he could be and that, oddly
enough, had been the evening before, when she had broken the lengthening silence
between them by asking about his family.

Setting aside what he had been reading, he had favoured her
with his full attention. ‘But you know about my family.’

‘The Kingsleys I do, yes,’ she had agreed. ‘But I know next to
nothing about your mother’s relations. Have you uncles…? Aunts…? Cousins…?’

‘Oh, yes, several, as it happens. My mother came from a large
family, nine in all, and she was the eldest. Not all of them visit London, but
one or two of them do occasionally make the trip. So I do run into them from
time to time. All the same, it would be true to say I’ve always had far more
dealings with my father’s family. After all, Aunt Lavinia virtually raised me
and Uncle Augustus played a large part in my upbringing, too.’

He had then gone on to reveal more about his other aunts and
uncles, and their various progeny, and she couldn’t help feeling rather saddened
by the thought that there was every likelihood she would never meet any of them,
especially as she had gained the distinct impression that he now wished to
exclude her from his world.

She sighed as the lowering thought once again crossed her mind,
and glanced up from the food on her plate, which had all at once become so
unappetising, to discover him surprisingly staring back at her above the rim of
his coffee cup, his expression, as it all too often was nowadays, totally
unreadable.

Because of this unexpected display of aloofness, she hadn’t
once attempted to develop a better understanding between them by revealing her
drastically altered feelings towards him: that he had become the centre of her
world. She had judged the time to be inappropriate. She had even gone so far as
to force herself to accept the heartrending possibility that it might already be
too late for a closer relationship between them. Even so, her secret feelings
had not lessened one iota; she very much doubted they ever would.

‘Sir Bartholomew has sent you word,’ she said without preamble,
the instant the maid had slipped out of the room and they were alone.

For the first time in many a long day she managed to recognise
both surprise and wry amusement in his expression. ‘My, my! I must be getting
too old for this game, if you can read me so easily, madam.’

He might have been genuinely amused, but she wasn’t. ‘Oh, Luke,
why don’t you confide fully in Colonel Maitland and leave it up to him?’ she
implored, even though in her heart of hearts she knew she was wasting her breath
to plead with him. ‘Surely Sir Bartholomew has complete faith in the Colonel’s
abilities, otherwise he wouldn’t have arranged his transfer here.’

The softer expression vanished in an instant and his lips set
in that hard line of resolve. ‘You know why. We’ve been through it before.’

Her sigh this time was one of grudging acceptance. ‘Well, at
least might I know when you expect to fulfil your mission?’

‘I’m afraid I cannot tell you that,’ he said. ‘Not because I
don’t wish to,’ he hurriedly assured her, when she appeared hurt, ‘but because I
genuinely don’t know myself. Sir Bartholomew has merely informed me that the
trap has been set and that he believes Petersham’s cousin has taken the bait. So
I don’t suppose it will be too long before Petersham himself receives the
erroneous information. Because that is precisely what it is. Sir Bartholomew
would never risk playing with lives by passing on any genuine secret
information. And as far as I’m concerned… Well, I’m afraid I’m forced to play a
waiting game. I must wait to hear from Will Norman when another run is planned
and take things from there.’

‘But how can you be sure that Miles will pass on the
information on the next occasion?’ Briony pointed out.

‘I can’t, of course,’ Luke was honest enough to admit. ‘But I
cannot imagine he’ll be happy to kick his heels here in the country for too much
longer. He enjoys the pleasures the capital has to offer far too much to remain
away for longer than he needs to. Once he has the opportunity to clear his
outstanding debts he’ll want to be back in the metropolis. Therefore I don’t
suppose he’ll delay too long before making contact with his French
counterpart.’

‘No, I don’t suppose he will,’ she agreed hollowly, knowing
full well that Luke, too, was unlikely to delay his return to London, once his
mission was completed.

* * *

Although she strived to behave quite normally, paying
and receiving calls from neighbours and going about her daily tasks at the
Manor, it was with an increasingly heavy heart that Briony passed the following
two weeks. After waiting daily for the dreaded news that the smugglers planned
to be abroad that night, she experienced, strangely enough, a sense of relief
when that confirmation eventually did come.

One glance at Luke’s face as he entered the parlour was
sufficient to convince her that something was afoot. There seemed an extra
spring in his step, an added sparkle in those grey eyes of his. As much as she
had feared the event, Luke, seemingly, had been awaiting it with a kind of
suppressed excitement. His first words only served to confirm it.

‘It’s to be tonight, I’m pleased to tell you!’

She watched him drop into the chair opposite. She hadn’t seen
him since breakfast. Which had hardly been a rare occurrence during the past
month, she reminded herself, while wondering at the same time whether this
sudden show of eagerness on his part stemmed from a determination to pick up the
threads of his former life as quickly as possible.

‘What do you expect me to say?’ She continued with her sewing,
knowing full well that she had sounded like some disgruntled child who had not
been allowed its own way, but she simply couldn’t help it. ‘Do you expect me to
wish you well? I should have thought that went without saying.’

He regarded her for a moment in thoughtful silence. ‘What’s
wrong? I gained the distinct impression you were as keen as I am to get this
business over and done with.’

Not if it means losing you,
her
heart longed to retort. But she clung silently to those most secret of feelings.
Yet again the time was inappropriate. He would have enough to concern him this
night without his thoughts straying to… To what? How best to rid himself of a
makeshift wife as soon as possible? Given his slight aloofness in recent weeks,
it was perhaps more sensible to accept here and now that she had quite failed to
win his heart. She didn’t suppose for a moment he would derive any delight or
satisfaction to discover that he had won hers. He would take no pleasure in
causing her pain—of that she felt sure. He was a gentleman of strong principle,
high-minded and astute, compassionate, yet at the same time resolute and
courageous. Dear God, why, oh, why hadn’t she realised that from the first!

‘You haven’t answered my question, Briony,’ he reminded her
gently, as she set her sewing aside at last and then went over to the window,
her back towards him, signs of tension evident in every line of her slender
frame. ‘What’s really troubling you?’

‘I know you’re determined to complete your assignment, Luke. I
know it’s important for you to do so. But I also know it’s highly likely blood
will be spilled this night… And I particularly don’t want it to be yours.’

She could say no more than that, not without revealing feelings
she had done her utmost to conceal for so very many weeks. Yet, when he was all
at once standing behind her, forcing her round to face him squarely by the
simple expedient of placing his hands on her shoulders and exerting only
sufficient pressure to turn her, she feared she had revealed too much
already.

His eyes locked on to hers, searching, probing, as though
determined to discover her most secret thoughts. His lips parted and for one
heartstopping moment she believed he at last realised just how much he now meant
to her and intended to say something, but then he merely ran his fingers down
the length of her arms to grasp her wrists, holding them gently, yet firmly
captive.

‘I shan’t insult your intelligence by attempting to pretend
there’s no danger. Of course there is. But I’m reasonably confident, with all
the careful planning, all the precautions taken, the risks are minimal, not only
to myself, but for all involved, including those three young men engaged in
smuggling against their will. They know the risks, but they’re prepared to take
them in order to be free of the trade. And so am I prepared to take them…this
one last time. You may be sure you shan’t suffer as a consequence of my actions.
No matter what happens, you shall want for nothing.’

Nothing except you,
she would have
given much to reveal, but said quite matter of factly, ‘And here I am taking up
so much of your precious time, time that would be better spent engaged
elsewhere, I dare say.’ She stared down at his hands, wondering if this would be
the last occasion she would feel their comforting warmth, then resolutely
restrained the threat of tears. ‘I take it you are dining this evening?’

‘Yes, but not here,’ he surprisingly revealed, releasing his
hold at last. ‘I’m dining with Colonel Maitland in his quarters. We need to
finalise a few details.’

‘In that case, I’d best inform Janet I’ll be eating alone.’

He didn’t attempt to prevent her hurried departure, for which
she was immensely relieved. She wasn’t sure for how much longer she could have
maintained control and could only be thankful that her powers of restraint would
not be tested again that day.

* * *

Yet later, as she got herself ready for bed, she was
plagued by bitter regrets for not having had the courage to seek him out before
he had finally left the house, if only to wish him luck, to tell him to take
extra care. But, no, she had been too much of a coward for that. She had even
taken the added precaution of concealing herself behind a parlour curtain so
there was little likelihood of him catching a glimpse of her as she had watched
him riding away from the house.

She closed her eyes at the all-too-recent memory, knowing full
well that that might turn out to be the very last time she ever saw him alive.
Why, oh, why had she been such a coward! Had her reticence to reveal her
feelings on this last occasion truly stemmed from a genuine desire not to burden
him with added considerations at a time when he needed to concentrate fully on
an assignment of such vital importance? Or was it nearer the truth to
acknowledge that she had feared his reaction, dreaded the possibility that her
feelings were not reciprocated?

Picking up the candle, she rose from the dressing table and
went across to the communicating door. Her fingers shook slightly as she took a
grasp of the handle, as though to remind her that she was about to enter a
domain where she had absolutely no right to be. Even so, she didn’t allow this
to deter her from going into a room that she hadn’t clapped eyes on since the
day her marriage had taken place. How long ago that seemed now! A lifetime
ago!

Holding the candle aloft, she wandered into the centre of the
chamber, staring about her as she did so. How very masculine it all was now!
Gone were any traces of those former feminine touches, which had so
characterised the room during its former occupant’s lifetime. The great
four-poster bed, with its rich velvet curtains to ward off any chilly winter
draughts, was without doubt the room’s most prominent feature. Like the man who
occupied it, every line of the structure was solid and strong. Perhaps if she
had shared the room, as she undoubtedly would have done on scores of occasions
had she not been such a fainthearted little fool, then there would have been
little feminine touches to be seen here and there. But as it was…

Her eyes strayed to the garments the valet some time during the
evening had laid out so carefully on the bed in readiness for his master’s
return. Setting the candle aside, Briony picked up the heavy brocade dressing
gown and began absently to stroke the velvet collar lovingly, her mind instantly
returning to the only occasion she had ever seen Luke wearing it. Given her time
again, she would never dismiss his advances in such a naïvely cavalier fashion.
But would that blessed gift of opportunity ever be granted again?