The Deception (6 page)

He looked down at me, his face hard, his eyes narrowed. My stomach tightened even more. It was not the same feeling my uncle gave me, however, and I realized that I did not feel threatened by Adrian in the same way I felt threatened by Charlwood. This thought gave me a little courage, and I said, “I have told you I was sorry, my lord. I will do whatever you want me to.”

His eyes flicked to the bed behind me, then back to my face. “Will you?” he asked.

My heart began to thud. The thought of going to bed with such an angry male scared me to death. I do not welsh on my bargains, however. I made myself as tall as I could and said baldly, “Yes.”

“So,” he said, looking me up and down in a way that brought color stinging to my cheeks. “Are you pregnant, then?”

I could only stare at him, stupefied.

His mouth was compressed in a bitter line. “Charlwood would feel that his revenge was truly complete if at the same time he could saddle me with a wife I did not want and an heir that was not mine.”

I felt a healthy rush of anger surge through my veins. “I am not pregnant!” I shouted it at him, so furious was I at the suggestion.

“Are you not?” And before I realized what was happening, he had reached out, grasped my arms, and pulled me against him. Instinctively I tried to push against him to get away, but the hands that were gripping my arms held me immobile. The next day I would have bruises where he had gripped me. I opened my lips to protest, but before I could speak his mouth had come down on mine. I felt his temper in its brutal hardness. My own anger flared in response, and I tried to kick him. He lifted me right off my feet and held me against his chest, his mouth still clamped on mine.

He was holding me as if I weighed nothing. I was helpless and furious but—strangely—I was not frightened. I tried ineffectively to kick him once more.

Then, abruptly, something changed in the way he was kissing me. The pressure of his lips became gentler, and his body bent over mine in a way that was possessive without being threatening. I felt the angry resistance in my own body beginning to drain away, felt myself beginning to soften and melt into him.

I have no idea how long we stayed like that. Dimly I was aware of the crackle of the fire, of the sound of the trees rustling gently outside the window. He let me slide slowly down along him until I was back on my feet again, then his right hand moved up to the back of my head, cupping it in his palm, supporting it as he bent me backward. I closed my eyes.

He pushed me away with such abruptness that I stumbled and almost fell.

“No,” he said. His voice sounded hoarse and he was breathing as if he had been running. All the pulses in my body were hammering, and I stared at him in bewilderment. I was stunned by what had just happened between us.

“I am not going to make matters worse by consummating this farce of a marriage,” he said between his teeth.

He had pulled my hair loose from its pins and it was beginning to slide down my back. My lips were probably bruised and swollen. I backed away a few more steps and said, with as much dignity as I could manage, “I was not the one who initiated that kiss, my lord.”

He had gotten his breathing under control. His own hair had become disordered and was hanging over his forehead. I felt a sudden, illicit desire to reach up and run my fingers through it. Like a child resisting temptation, I crossed my arms and tucked my hands under my armpits.

“You will remain here at Lambourn for the time being,” he said, ignoring my comment about the kiss. “The marriage will have to be acknowledged—Charlwood will certainly see to that—but he can’t make me introduce you to society as my wife.”

There was obviously a history of bad blood between my uncle and Greystone, but this definitely was not the time to make inquiries. He was looking as if he expected a reply from me. “That is so, my lord,” I said politely.

My submissiveness did not seem to please him.

“I will not be spending the night here,” he said. “I am going to ride on to Greystone Abbey.”

Greystone Abbey was his chief estate, and I knew it lay near Newbury, some fifteen miles away. It was fully dark by now, but I certainly wasn’t going to try to persuade him to stay. “Yes, my lord,” I said in the same polite voice as before. He scowled, and I backed up one more step. As soon as I realized what I had done, I stepped forward again. I uncrossed my arms, stood straight, and looked him in the eye. He looked as if he was going to say something else, but then he turned and strode out of the room. The door closed behind him with a very final thud. I went to the window seat, sat down, and began to shake.

Chapter Four

“Just a little bit of bread and cheese, Mrs. Noakes?” I coaxed. “I’m frozen and I need food to help me thaw out.”

I loved the kitchen at Lambourn. It was always so delightfully warm and cozy, with delicious smells emanating from the great iron stove and a fire blazing in the big stone fireplace. I sat at the well-worn wooden table and watched as the housekeeper, who was also the cook, turned to me with her hands on her ample hips.

“If you had the sense of a booby bird, my lady, you’d know enough not to go out into this weather,” she scolded. “Lord knows you don’t have enough flesh on your bones to keep you warm in decent weather, let alone in the cold rain we’ve been having this last week.”

I gave her my most ingratiating smile. “I just went down to the stable for a while.”

Mrs. Noakes came over to the table and picked up my hands to test their temperature. They were still extremely cold. She clucked—she really did look quite remarkably like a hen—and said, “You’ll be getting chilblains if you don’t watch out. Fine things for the Countess of Greystone to have on her hands!”

“Even if I do get them, no one will ever know,” I said cheerfully, and ignored the look that Mrs. Noakes exchanged with her husband, who was Lambourn’s general man of work.

“Mrs. Noakes is right, my lady,” the old man said gruffly.

“Willie and George can look after those horses. There’s no need for you to go out in such nasty weather.” He beetled his bushy gray eyebrows together and added meaningfully, “Particularly in that thin old pelisse of yours.”

I sighed. Mr. and Mrs. Noakes were dears, and I had become very fond of them in the eight months I had been residing at Lambourn Manor. I knew they were fond of me too, but for some reason they persisted in treating me like a wayward and not overly intelligent child. They might call me “my lady,” but on their lips it sounded more like a child’s pet name than a title.

“I just went to visit Elsa,” I said now patiently. Elsa was a beautiful bay Thoroughbred mare who belonged to Adrian. When he had first joined the army and gone off to fight Napoleon he had sent her here to Lambourn, where the grass was heaven for horses. She had basically been retired until I arrived and decided to put her back into condition so I would be able to ride. She was sixteen, perfectly sound, perfectly healthy, and delighted to be useful once again. I adored her.

Mrs. Noakes snorted, but she brought me a plate of hot soup as well as a wedge of cheddar cheese and a loaf of fresh bread. I grinned at her, picked up my spoon, and dipped in.

“There was mail for you today, my lady,” Mr. Noakes said after a few moments. He was sitting across from me at the table having one of the dozens of cups of tea that he drank during the course of the day.

My head came up alertly. “There was?”

“I put it in the library.”

The soup was hot, and I blew on my spoonful before putting it in my mouth. When he did not volunteer anything more, I knew the letter had to be from Louisa. If it had come from either France or Ireland, Mr. Noakes would have said something.

Mrs. Noakes lifted the cover of an iron kettle pot on the stove and inspected the contents carefully. She sniffed, nodded, and turned back to me. “I have told you many times, my lady, that you should invite your cousin to stay with you at Lambourn Manor. It is not right for so young a girl to be alone all the time.”

“We have been through this before, Mrs. Noakes,” I said as I blew on another spoonful of soup. “I would love to have my cousin to stay with me, but I will not trespass on Lord Greystone’s hospitality. Besides,” I gave the two old dears an affectionate look, “I am not alone. I have you.”

They ignored the compliment. They did not consider themselves worthy companions for me, because they were servants. “His lordship would not mind you sending for your cousin,” Mr. Noakes said.

“You don’t know that,” I countered.

But Mr. Noakes was plowing remorselessly on. “Nor would his lordship mind if you took some of the household money to buy yourself a warm coat, my lady.”

I shook my head adamantly. “I will not take his lordship’s money. I am living in his house and eating his food, and that is quite enough, I think.”

Both old people stared at me, frustration written large upon their honest faces. In truth, if they regarded me as a child, I had rather come to regard them as my grandparents. “Don’t fret about me,” I told them. “I am very happy with the way things are.”

“It’s not right,” Mrs. Noakes muttered. She turned and banged a pot down on the stove. “It wasn’t well done of his lordship to bring you here and then leave you as if you didn’t exist.”

“I am quite sure he wishes that I did not exist,” I said candidly, “and I can’t blame him.”

I had confided in them both the story of my marriage, and so they knew why Greystone had dumped me so unceremoniously on their doorstep. For some reason, however, they had constituted themselves my champions, although I kept pointing out that I was not the one who had been most wronged.

They hadn’t taken my part at the beginning, of course. They thought Greystone walked on water, and when I told them the story of what my uncle had forced him to do, they were quite chilly to me. This lasted for about a month. I understood their feelings perfectly and did my best not to be a nuisance. It was when I got sick that they changed.

I had walked into the village, just for something to do, and on the way home I began to feel unwell. It was a three-mile walk and by the time I got back to Lambourn my legs felt so wobbly that I was afraid I wasn’t going to make it.

Mrs. Noakes had met me at the door. “My lady! Where were you? We have been looking for you all over the estate!”

“I walked to the village,” I said. I remember that she looked very peculiar, as if I were seeing her through a fog.

She was appalled. “Walked! Why did you walk? If you wanted to go to the village, Willie would have driven you.”

“I didn’t want to be a bother,” I said, and fainted at her feet.

Well, she sent for the doctor, and then she sat up with me all night long, periodically feeding me a horrible-tasting medicine. I was so confused that once or twice I actually thought she was my mother. By the time I was well again, we were friends.

Her change of heart did not surprise me. I have often noticed how attached one can get to a creature one has nursed through an illness. I have felt it myself with horses I have taken care of when they were sick.

I finished my soup and cut myself a slice of cheese. “What’s for dinner?” I asked Mrs. Noakes, sniffing appreciatively at the fragrance that was wafting from the biggest pot on the stove.

“Lamb stew. One of your favorites, my lady.”

“Yum.” I finished the cheese in my mouth and cut another slice. “You are a superlative cook, Mrs. Noakes.”

“You are scarcely a judge, my lady,” the old woman said disapprovingly. “From what you tell me, you have spent your entire life eating nothing but wretched lodging-house food.”

“It was not always wretched,” I replied.

Mrs. Noakes clucked again. Nothing I said could convince her that the life I had led with my father was not disgraceful. She cast one more look over the pots on the stove and came to the table to take her customary chair. I waited for her to make the little sighing noise she always gave when her weight was lifted from her feet. She made the noise and I smothered a smile.

“Mr. Crawford is coming tomorrow,” Mr. Noakes said next.

“That will be nice.” Mr. Crawford was the Earl of Greystone’s man of business. He kept the accounts for all of Adrian’s estates. He had been to Lambourn twice before, to check on the estate. I had found him to be a very pleasant man.

“I will serve dinner in the dining room,” Mrs. Noakes said.

I knew what she was hinting. “Don’t worry, Mrs. Noakes, I won’t tell him that I usually eat in the kitchen. I promise.”

She compressed her lips and nodded. This business of my taking my dinner in the kitchen with her and Mr. Noakes worried her dreadfully. On the one hand, she could see that I would find it very lonesome eating by myself in the dining room, but on the other hand she hated the thought of the Countess of Greystone eating in the kitchen. I thought she was making a great fuss about nothing, but then I would be the first to confess that I knew nothing about being a countess.

I never told her about the card games that Willie and George and I played in the office at the stable. She would have been aghast.

“I will wear my blue dress for Mr. Crawford and do my best to act like a lady,” I said to Mrs. Noakes.

“You
are
a lady,” the housekeeper said fiercely.

I gave her my best smile. “You’re prejudiced because you like me.” I stood up. “Thank you for the soup and the cheese.”

I made my way to the library and collected my letter, which Mr. Noakes had left lying next to the clock on the mantelpiece. I read it standing in front of the fire, and when I had finished I refolded it slowly, trying not to feel hurt and disappointed.

Poor Louisa, I thought. Her wretched nieces and nephews had all come down with mumps and her letter had been filled with the woes of taking care of them.

The one piece of news I had been hoping for had not been forthcoming.
I
have heard nothing from a man called Paddy O’Grady,
Louisa had written.
I
wrote to the housekeeper at Charlwood, as you requested, and no one of that name has made inquiries about you there either, Kate.