Anne Ashley (4 page)

Then, of course, he had gone up to Oxford, she reminded
herself, and she had seen hardly anything of him at all. Afterwards the army had
beckoned, and he had been away from these shores for several years fighting in
Portugal and Spain—firstly, under the command of Sir John Moore, and then
Wellesley. Not once since his return, after hearing of his cousin’s death and
becoming heir to the viscountcy, had he paid a visit to the Manor, until today.
If the gossips were to be believed, he enjoyed all the pleasures the capital had
to offer a well-heeled bachelor and, apart from the occasional visit to the
ancestral pile in Kent, he was happy to live all year round in the
metropolis.

She shook her head. No, none of it made any sense at all. Why
this sudden desire to reside here now? Moreover, surely if he had had any
genuine attachment to the place he wouldn’t be so willing to forfeit his
half-share? Furthermore, it was absurd to suppose he’d taken one look at her and
fallen head over heels in love. No, ridiculous! But, unless he was a complete
simpleton, and she didn’t suppose for a moment he was, there had to be some very
good reason for his wanting to comply with his aunt’s will. So what was it about
Dorsetshire that had instigated the desire to rusticate in the county for a
period of time? Whatever it was, it must be vastly important if he was willing
to forfeit his bachelorhood.

Unable to come up with any logical explanation, Briony wandered
across to the escritoire in the corner of the room and sat herself down.
Throughout her life Lady Ashworth had been an avid letter writer. Briony had
seen her sitting before the fine piece of French furniture on countless
occasions, writing missives to her relatives and numerous friends.

Sooner rather than later she and Luke Kingsley were going to
have to get together in order to sort through Lady Lavinia’s personal effects,
she told herself, after opening one of the drawers to discover piles of letters,
neatly tied together with lengths of ribbon. Picking out one of the bundles at
random, she noted the direction was written in a childish scrawl. They were from
her nephew, written when Luke had been away at school. She quickly discovered
another bundle penned by him when up at Oxford and another pile sent during his
years in the army.

Curiosity got the better of her and she began to read them in
strict chronological order. The light was fading fast by the time she was
reading the very last letter he had sent to his aunt from London dated a month
before her death.

…I hope during your impromptu visit to the capital late last year
I succeeded in setting your mind at rest, that you no longer believe everything
the gossipmongers circulate about me. You could do no better than trust your
instincts, Aunt Lavinia, and be sure I shall never bring dishonour to the proud
name I bear…

An odd thing to have written to his aunt, Briony decided.
Evidently Lady Ashworth had been concerned about the numerous rumours
circulating with regard to her nephew—his excessive gambling, not to mention his
womanising. That was possibly why she had made that unscheduled stop in the
capital after visiting her friend. One thing was certain, though—the letters had
revealed how very fond of his aunt he really was. There was no mistaking
that.

So why had he never made the effort to pay her a visit in
recent years? Lady Ashworth, as far as Briony was aware, had seen him on three
occasions only since he had sold his commission and had left the army, and that
was because she had gone to the trouble of paying short visits to the capital
herself. Furthermore, why was it that a gentleman who wrote in such fond terms
to his aunt could not even put himself out to attend her funeral?

Increasingly Luke Kingsley was becoming something of an enigma.
Quite unfathomable!

Chapter Three

‘Y
ou may kiss the bride,’ the vicar had
invited, his benign, lined face beaming with delight, Briony all too vividly
recalled. And for one heart-stopping moment she had thought Luke had meant to
exert his rights as a husband and do precisely that! But, no, he had kept his
word and, after staring fixedly at the curve of her mouth for endless moments,
had merely raised her left hand in order to press his lips lightly against the
plain gold band he had slipped on her finger a short time before. But would he
continue to keep to his part of the bargain now the knot was tied? That was the
all-important question.

Raising her head slightly, she peered through her long lashes
down the length of the table at her sole dinner companion. For perhaps the
hundredth time since the ceremony had taken place earlier in the day, the
thought that she must surely have been utterly insane to have gone through with
it once again filtered through her mind. What did she know of Luke Kingsley,
after all? Next to nothing, if one disregarded the gossipmongers’ tittle-tattle.
Even though he had visited the Manor several times during the past month, she
knew little more about him now than she had when he had paid that first
unexpected call, after his very long absence.

Yes, he continued to remain an enigma. No, more, she decided, a
dichotomy. She had seriously begun to suspect there might be two distinct and
quite opposite personalities locked inside that well-muscled frame of his.

Whenever he was in company he resembled nothing so much as the
light-minded profligate the gossips had painted him since his return from the
Peninsula. Yet, on other occasions, when they had chanced to be alone, she had
thought she had detected a look in those attractive grey eyes of his that had
betrayed innate wisdom, an expression flickering over those distinctly
aristocratic features that had strongly suggested the shallow care-for-nobody
attitude might well be assumed. But if so, why on earth should he wish the world
to think so poorly of him? There must be some reason behind the feigned
triviality, surely? Or was he merely putting on an act for his own
amusement?

‘Something appears to be troubling you, m’dear? I sincerely
trust you are not regretting so soon the vows you made? That would be
unfortunate indeed.’

So, the drawl, too, had returned, had it? That most certainly
was assumed for her benefit, and the benefit of others, of course, Briony
decided, favouring him with her full attention. ‘And I sincerely trust you do
not give me cause to regret having uttered them,’ she parried, never having been
afraid to speak her mind, at least where he was concerned. Which was most
strange, now that she came to consider the matter.

She could hardly admit to their having become friends during
the past month. Perhaps the most she could own to was that, over certain
matters, they were well on the way to achieving a better understanding and
drawing up boundaries beyond which the other was prepared not to tread. For
instance, he had made it perfectly plain that he had no intention of completely
changing his lifestyle, merely because he had been prepared to relinquish his
bachelor state; he had every intention of making visits to the capital during
the next six months. For her part Briony didn’t object to this in the least. Not
only would it offer her the golden opportunity to come and go as she pleased,
without having to respect another’s wishes, but it would no doubt make him
easier to live with if he was able to visit his present mistress whenever the
inclination happened to take him.

In fact, he had travelled to London on one occasion already
during the past month. Although she wouldn’t have gone so far as to say she had
been glad to see the back of him, it certainly hadn’t aroused the least
resentment or jealousy in her breast to see him go. Whether he had taken the
opportunity to visit his mistress or not she had no way of knowing, but he most
definitely hadn’t been idle during his time away. He had arranged for several of
his personal belongings to be brought down to Dorsetshire and had installed two
of his own servants at the Manor.

‘No, nothing is troubling me,’ she assured him cordially,
determined to do her part to keep their relationship as affable as possible,
‘except, perhaps, trifling domestic concerns. I trust you’ll find the master
bedchamber to your liking. I hope you approve the colour scheme.’

‘I’m sure I shall. And so long as my own bed has been installed
in there I’m certain I’ll be comfortable.’

‘It arrived earlier in the week,’ she was able to assure him,
‘and has been made up with fresh linen and merely awaits its master.’

All at once there was a hint of an unnerving sparkle in those
grey eyes of his. ‘All this talk of bed, madam wife, might give me every reason
to suppose you’re eager to get me in there.’

Now, how was she supposed to react to that piece of deliberate
provocation? Briony wondered, deciding to nip such foolishness on his part in
the bud. ‘What time you choose to retire, sir, is entirely your own concern.’
She rose to her feet. ‘But I have eaten my fill and so shall bid you good
evening and leave you to your port.’

‘There’s no need for you to scurry away like a frightened
rabbit.’ Although the drawl had disappeared completely, his eyes retained a
glimmer of something, possibly a challenge this time. ‘It isn’t late and we must
both accustom ourselves to being in each other’s company for at least part of
most days. Besides which, I cannot imagine you’ve found the day such an ordeal
that you must retire so early. Considering everything had to be arranged in such
a short space of time, I thought things went rather well.’

While speaking, he had risen to his feet and had come slowly
down the length of the table towards her, bringing the port decanter with him.
He was undeniably continuing to be deliberately provocative. Yet, behind the
gentle goading, she sensed there was a genuine desire for her to remain. She
hovered for a moment, undecided, then, against her better judgement, resumed her
seat, curiosity having got the better of her.

‘No, I haven’t found the day an ordeal in the least, sir.’ She
shrugged, attempting to appear more at ease than she in fact was, now that he
had positioned a chair so close to her own that she could almost detect the
warmth his body exuded. She watched the strong yet shapely hand tilt the
decanter and fill a glass. ‘As—as weddings go, I suppose it did go rather well,
even though it was perhaps unusually private,’ she added tentatively, feeling a
little more comment was expected of her.

He regarded her in silence for a moment. ‘Since the marriage
was, to all intents and purposes, forced upon us, it would have been somewhat
hypocritical to have had a grand affair to celebrate the union, attended by all
our relations and friends,’ he pointed out. ‘Those who needed to be there to
witness the event were present—Mr Pettigrew and…your Janet.’

Was that a note of disapproval in his voice? ‘My Janet?’ she
echoed.

‘She’s quite evidently become devoted to you.’

Briony saw no reason to deny it. ‘Yes, I suppose we have become
very close over the years. You don’t object, surely?’

‘No, not at all…’ his regard all at once became more intense
‘…providing, of course, your obvious affection for the housekeeper doesn’t
induce you to confide in her more than is wise. The result might be unfortunate
for you if you do.’

Very much resenting the evident threat, she made no attempt to
disguise the fact. ‘I have confided in no one, sir. You above anyone should
realise how far I’ve been prepared to go to make this farcical union of ours
appear real. Was it not I who suggested you should occupy your late aunt’s
bedchamber so that we might be as close as possible in order to allay any
suspicions with the household staff, which might ultimately result in gossip
spreading throughout the locale? I assure you your mistrust is quite without
foundation. I have every intention of keeping to my part of the bargain,
providing you keep to yours.’

‘Come down off the boughs, girl!’ he ordered gently. ‘Here,
drink this,’ he continued in the same mildly authoritative way, after filling
another glass and steering it across the table towards her. ‘It might help calm
you. We must at least attempt to appear perfectly at ease with each other, even
if we are not. And six months is a very long time to maintain the pretence.’

She couldn’t argue with that and meekly took the glass of port
he had offered, which obviously pleased him, for his smile was clearly one of
approval.

Undoubtedly, he was going out of his way to be amiable in an
attempt to maintain cordial relations between them. Yet, she wasn’t so foolish
as to suppose there mightn’t be a darker side to his nature, which might so
easily surface if she was to prove an annoyance. At the moment, though, he
seemed intent on remaining in an affable mood, so she decided to take advantage
of the fact by attempting to discover what had really induced him to relinquish
his bachelor state, if only for six months. After all, everything was for her
benefit. She couldn’t for the life of her see where he profited at all!

The instant the question had been voiced, he lowered his eyes
and appeared to consider what remained of the rich liquid in his glass. ‘There
were several reasons, m’dear, for taking such a drastic step.’

The response was hardly destined to satisfy her, and it didn’t,
of course. Furthermore, she wasn’t overly impressed, either, by the quick return
of that infuriating drawl he continued to affect whenever the mood happened to
take him. She was instantly on her guard, all at once intensely suspicious of
his motives.

‘Come, sir, let us have a degree of honesty between us at the
outset, otherwise relations between us are likely to become strained indeed, if
we become mistrustful of each other,’ she suggested, refusing to admit defeat so
easily. ‘I made no secret of the fact why I agreed to marry you. My motives were
purely mercenary. Marriage offered me financial security, which I would never
have attained without it.’

‘True, but I strongly suspect you would never have married for
money alone, otherwise you would have done so long before now.’ There was a
suspicion of a challenge in the look he cast her, almost daring her to deny it.
‘I clearly recall Aunt Lavinia being quite vexed because you flatly refused to
accompany her to London for a Season. Hardly the actions of an avaricious miss,
now were they, m’dear?’

Resentful though she was, she was obliged to accept that he
knew a deal more about her than she did about him. She couldn’t help wondering
what else Lady Ashworth had revealed in recent years and was doubly determined
to discover the reason for his wishing to marry.

‘What a persistent little madam you are to be sure, Briony!’ he
scolded, after she had reminded him that he hadn’t satisfied her curiosity.
‘Still, my aunt did warn me that there was a stubbornly determined streak in
your nature. And Aunt Lavinia—bless her!—was a rare, truthful woman.’

He grinned at the look of exasperation he received. ‘Oh, very
well, though I’m obliged to own it doesn’t redound to my credit.’

Once again he appeared to find the contents of his glass of
immense interest. ‘You may or may not have heard that I’ve been playing rather
deep of late. I wouldn’t go so far as to say I’m even remotely close to ruining
myself, but my recent losses have been steadily mounting and, more
significantly, have come to the ears of my uncle. Lord Kingsley is a most
abstemious fellow, almost to the point of meanness, some might say. All the
same, since his son died, and I became his heir, Uncle Augustus has made me a
generous quarterly allowance. Furthermore, you’d need to go a long way to find
an ancestral pile maintained to such a high standard as Kingsley Hall. It is
little wonder that he would be concerned over its future well-being. By marrying
and settling down in the country for a spell I hope to put the old man’s mind at
rest as to my worthiness to step into his shoes.’

Briony wasn’t at all sure she liked the explanation she was
being offered. Or believed it, either, come to that! ‘But won’t he think quite
the opposite—that you’re utterly fickle, when the marriage is annulled?’

He shrugged, appearing completely indifferent to the prospect.
‘Oh, I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it. He hasn’t been at all well of
late. That’s why he didn’t attend Aunt Lavinia’s funeral.’

Yes, at least Lord Kingsley had some excuse for not attending.
Which is more than can be said for you!
Briony
longed to retort, but managed to check the stricture long before it reached her
lips.

‘In fact, he hasn’t enjoyed good health for some time, not
since the death of his only son,’ he continued, quite oblivious to the fact that
he had plummeted in her estimation. ‘Sadly, I don’t believe he’s long for this
world. Which I cannot imagine troubles him overmuch. He’s never been the same
since Giles’s death.’

This did succeed in diverting her thoughts. ‘Yes, very tragic.
I only ever met your uncle on one occasion, many years ago, when your aunt took
me on a visit to Kent. Giles, like yourself, was at Oxford, so I never met him.
His death was due to a riding accident, was it not?’

He nodded. ‘Yes, poor fellow,’ he said softly, and there could
be no mistaking the sincerity in the deep voice. ‘It could have happened to
anyone, I suppose, but he was the very last person I would have expected to meet
his maker that way. He was a fine horseman, one of the best I’ve ever come
across.’

‘You were evidently very fond of him,’ she remarked, never
having considered the relationship between the two cousins before.

‘When a boy, I spent very nearly as much time at Kingsley Hall
as I did here at the Manor. Giles and I were much of an age, attended the same
school and, as you rightly mentioned, were up at Oxford together. We were more
like brothers than cousins,’ he revealed, before he raised his eyes to discover
a pair the same shade as cornflowers regarding him keenly.