The Disappearing Duchess (12 page)

‘Forgive me. You were sleeping and I thought if I went for my walk early, I should return in time for us to breakfast together. If you wish, I could change into my riding habit and we could go out together.’

‘Perhaps another day,’ he said and frowned. ‘Why could you not sleep? Were you unhappy?’

‘Why should I be?’ she asked, her cheeks pink. She could not look at him as she said, ‘You did not disappoint
me, Justin—though I fear I am sadly lacking in the things you desire of your wife.’

‘Not at all,’ he said and moved towards her. ‘Forgive me, I am a grouch at times. I shall return in an hour or so and we shall have refreshments together in the small parlour, if that will suit you?’

‘Yes, of course. Enjoy your ride, Justin.’

‘We have made a start, Lucinda. We must try to do well by one another. I wronged you and I am determined to make it up to you.’

‘Thank you,’ she said, but turned her face away.

Justin thought she was on the verge of tears. Clearly, she was not happy as things were. His harsh manners had made him appear a monster and she was a gentle girl.

He had a temper and his pride made him quick to fire up. As he left the house and walked down to the stables, Justin made up his mind that he would not force his attentions on Lucinda again. Instead, he would court her as if they were not married, letting her come to know him all over again. Perhaps then she would be able to show some feeling when he eventually made love to her in the future. He would not let himself imagine a future that left them estranged forever.

* * *

Unaware of her husband’s thoughts, Lucinda hurried up to the attic rooms that Alice had prepared for Nanny and Angela. She discovered that her maid had exceeded her orders, bringing toys, a comfortable rocking chair and cushions and other comforts from the nursery.

‘She is a little darling,’ Alice said, looking up as Lucinda entered the room. The child was on her lap and eating a sweet biscuit that Alice had brought for her. ‘She will do so much better now that she is here with us, my lady.’

‘It feels warm in here,’ Lucinda said and placed her hand on a chimney breast that served a room on the lower floor. ‘The heat from the rooms downstairs filters up here. I shall make sure that a fire is kept going in the room below this one—I think it must be the library.’

Did Justin often sit in his library when they were not entertaining guests? Lucinda was not sure. She recalled that there had always been a fire lit in the evenings even when there were no guests.

How far did sound travel? Angela laughed and ran about when she was well and happy. She was already looking more at home in this room, which was probably the kind of room she’d had at the inn, where the best chambers were kept for guests.

If Angela shrieked or cried—would Justin hear and wonder where the child was in the house?

She would not be the only child at Avonlea. Lucinda had seen children in the kitchen garden sometimes: a boy of perhaps nine and a girl only a little older than her daughter. She believed that they belonged to one of the gardeners and came to the kitchens to bring fruit and vegetables in their baskets. Cook always gave them one of her sweet shortbread biscuits or a rock cake. Lucinda had seen them sitting on a bench in the walled garden,
munching the treat before taking their empty baskets back to the greenhouses, where their father worked.

If Justin heard a child laugh or cry he might think it was the gardener’s children—or perhaps just wind in the eaves.

Lucinda tried to forget her guilt. She was not sure how long she could keep her secret from her husband, but she must try for as long as possible. What alternative did she have? Her father had made it plain that no decent man would wish to know her because of her shame. How could she ask Justin to accept her child? He would naturally refuse and then Lucinda would be forced to choose between them—and she couldn’t. She could not bear to lose either of them. Justin was her husband and she loved him, but she loved her daughter, too. She wanted to make the child happy, to see her running and playing in the sunshine like normal children, though she would need to be careful Justin did not see her. At least she need not be away from the house for such long periods. Instead of spending two or three hours with Angela, she could pop up for half an hour two or three times a day.

Seeing how Alice had taken to petting the little girl, playing with her and holding her on her lap, Lucinda felt a warm content spread through her. Angela would not feel lonely and miserable with only an old lady for company. Alice would visit her often and perhaps some of the other servants might venture here when they became accustomed to the idea.

Smothering her unease at deceiving her husband, Lucinda stayed to read her daughter a story, then kissed her and left the little group together. Alice’s duties were light for she was asked to do little in this house, which had an abundance of servants, other than help her mistress dress and take care of Lucinda’s clothes. It was clear that she would spend most of her spare time in the attics, and Lucinda felt as if a burden had lifted from her shoulders. Now that she need not worry about her daughter, she could give all her attention to her husband.

She would try to please him in every way she could and then perhaps—when he had truly forgiven her—she might be able to tell him about her daughter.

J
ustin visited his library most mornings and, before his marriage, had spent most of his evenings there reading or drinking wine with friends. However, since Lucinda’s return he had scarcely spent more than a moment there selecting a book to read until he settled to sleep. Knowing that Lucinda was lying in the next room had kept him wakeful for many a night since his return from London. He had hoped that he would be sharing her bed more often, and he’d found it easy enough to sleep by her side, but finding her gone that morning had made him realise that perhaps he’d hoped for too much.

She had clearly not been able to rest or she would not have risen to go walking at such an early hour. He had ridden hard before joining his wife for breakfast in the parlour and come to a decision. He would not intrude on Lucinda’s privacy again until he was sure that she wished him to lie with her.

That meant he would need a good book and a stiff drink to help him quell the need and hunger that he knew he would feel when he thought of her lying only a short distance from him. Had he wished for a marriage of convenience he could have assuaged his physical needs with a mistress, but he had given his last light o’love a generous gift and parted on amicable terms before he wed. He had felt such a burning desire for his bride-to-be that he had not envisaged returning to the married lady who had obliged him—or taking a new mistress.

Had Lucinda’s terrible experience made her incapable of feeling passion in the marital bed? Justin considered the idea. No, he was sure she was not frigid. She had not shrunk from him and her body made its own response to the pleasure his touch had given her, making her cry out. He wanted her to be as eager for their lovemaking as he was, but the first indication that she wished for his attentions must come from her. He was not an insensitive brute and would not demand more than she wished to give.

She was so beautiful and the scent of her aroused his senses to a white-hot hunger—but he wanted her to love him, to want him as much as he desired her. Perhaps in time she would be able to forget that terrible night. He must be patient and give her that time.

Smiling ruefully as he looked along his bookshelf that evening, Justin intended ON picking out a much-used and loved volume of Shakespeare’s plays, but his
hand hovered as he heard a sound. It was a cry…a wailing cry that a child in distress might make. Where did it come from? He looked about him. The long room was in shadow because only one branch of candles had been lit and the light it shed did not reach into all the corners. Yet he did not think the sound had come from within the room; it sounded distant, faint and from somewhere above.

He had thought the attic rooms were empty. Mrs Mann had spoken of refurbishing them, but he’d put off the decision because he thought it was an outdated way of housing the servants. In summer the attics could become overwarm and in winter might not be warm enough. He had been toying with the idea of adding a farther building where the servants might have proper accommodation and perhaps set up a little school for the estate children. His hesitation had been because he was not certain whether to add the extension to the house or set it at a distance. Some of the servants would still need to live in, but if there were some separate accommodation it would make it possible for couples to marry and remain in service.

The notion would shock some of his friends. Marriage between the maids and footmen was not encouraged and in some houses the girls were forbidden followers. Justin had seen the gardener’s children about the gardens, though they were careful not to intrude into the formal areas where his guests might walk. The gardeners had their own small cottages and it seemed
logical that his house servants might wish for something similar. Over the years, Mrs Mann had complained of some of her best girls leaving because they wanted to marry. If some way of keeping them could be found, it would be more convenient for everyone.

The sound had not come again. Perhaps he had imagined it, but it was possible that one of the maids might have a child she wished to keep hidden in the house. It would not be the first time it had happened. These huge old houses had so many rooms, half of them used only for storage or shut off and empty because they needed refurbishment.

He could not be bothered with the problem now, though he might speak to his agent in the morning and ask his advice about where the new extension might be built.

Taking his book from the shelf, he turned and left the library and so did not hear the next sobbing cry that reverberated round the room.

* * *

‘Hush, my darling,’ Lucinda said and rocked her child in her arms. ‘Mummy is here now. You are safe, Angela. Nothing can harm you here.’

‘I had a bad dream,’ Angela said and sucked her thumb. ‘I woke and it was dark and I thought you had gone and I was back with her.’

‘No, she will not find you here,’ Lucinda promised and kissed her wet cheeks. ‘Go to sleep, my love. I am not far from you now. I shall come in the morning and we shall see each other every day.’

The child settled and eased back into the thick blankets that Alice had brought to wrap her. Lucinda sat by her side, stroking her head until she was certain she was asleep, then she rose and walked softly from the room.

‘Did you hear her cry?’ Nanny asked as she emerged from her own room.

‘No, I just came up to say good-night,’ Lucinda said. ‘It is strange for her again. She has been very unsettled, but I think she will be better here. She is not coughing now.’

‘Your Alice brought her a tisane that helped her throat. It had honey in it and she drank it all. She will be much better here and Alice is helping me with her clothes and food. I had wondered how long I should be able to manage alone, but we shall do well here.’

‘Alice loves her. She will be a good mother one day—far better than I can be.’

‘You have done all you could. You should go back now, my lady, or your husband will wonder where you are.’

‘Yes, you are right,’ Lucinda said and looked at her in concern. ‘You look tired, Nanny. I hope she lets you sleep tonight.’

‘I am sure she will now that she has seen you.’

Lucinda nodded and left the room. As she walked down the stairs and made her way back to her own wing, Lucinda wondered if anyone else had heard the crying.

She was certain the servants would know what was
going on, but they still had one or two guests—and she thought the sound might carry to the library.

Entering her bedchamber, Lucinda saw that someone had been in and placed a rosebud on her pillow. She picked the small red bud and held it to her nose. It smelled heavenly. Who had been here in her absence? She thought it might have been Justin and the thought sent a flicker of nerves spiralling in her stomach. He would wonder where she’d been. What could she tell him?

Gathering her courage, she went through the connecting dressing room and knocked at the door of his bedchamber. There was a moment’s pause and then Justin opened the door. He was wearing a blue silk robe and his feet were bare. His eyes narrowed as he looked at her.

‘Is something wrong? You are not ill? I came to your room and you were not there.’

‘Alice wanted me to help her with something. She had a bird in her room and she is frightened of them.’

‘Could she not have asked one of the other maids?’

‘It was no trouble for me.’ Lucinda could not look at him as she lied. ‘I wanted to thank you for your gift, Justin.’

‘I saw the rose flowering and, knowing how sweet it smells, thought of you,’ he said and smiled at her. Moving closer, he looked down at her for a moment and then bent to kiss her cheek. Lucinda trembled, her heart racing with anticipation. She breathed deeply, wondering
if he would take her to his bed and make love to her, as he had before. She longed for his kisses and his touch and yet she was still nervous.

‘You are as beautiful as the rarest flower, my love. You may rest easy this night. I shall not disturb you. I merely came to say good-night and give you the rose.’

‘I see…’ Lucinda’s throat felt tight with disappointment. Despite her nerves, she wanted him to love her, to teach her all she needed to know to please him as he had pleased her, but he did not want to sleep with her because she was not what he wished for in a wife. He was considerate, a perfect gentleman, but he did not love her. Somehow, she had failed him once again. ‘Good night, Justin. I wish you sweet dreams.’

For a moment she hesitated, wishing that she dared to go to him and tell him of her feelings, but he would despise her, think her wanton and turn from her in disgust.

She turned and went back through the dressing rooms, feeling tears burning behind her eyes. He had tired of her so quickly! She had hoped that if they lay together most nights they would become friends; the barriers would crumble and they would begin to love and to trust one another.

Once in her room she threw off her wrapping robe and crawled into bed, feeling miserable. Justin did not want her. She had killed his love when she told him her terrible secret and now, after last night, he did not even wish to lie with her.

The tears could not be stopped once she was in bed. They trickled down her cheeks, seemingly of their own accord. She did not sob, but lay quietly, rigid and shivering.

Her father had been right. She was a shameful thing and no decent man would love or want her.

* * *

Justin smothered an oath as the door closed behind her. Her perfume was in his nostrils, haunting him as it always did when she was not with him. He felt the grinding ache in his loins and knew that he would lay thinking of her, burning with the need to make love to her.

Why had he not swept her up in his arms and taken her to his bed?

The sight of her in that wrapping gown had tempted him sorely. Indeed, it had taken all his willpower to stop himself kissing her, but he’d known that if he took her in his arms his resistance would crumble. He could have lost himself in her moist warmth, but she would’ve lain there like a statue, trembling, afraid. No, he would not force his attentions on her and distress her no matter what it cost him. Only when he saw desire and wanting in her eyes would he make love to her again.

If he had accepted her story at the start with understanding instead of showing anger and jealousy, Lucinda might have come to him without fear. He had been at fault from the beginning. Believing a marriage of convenience based on mutual liking and respect sufficient, he had not taken the time to know his bride. Had
he waited longer rather than rushing her into marriage, she might have confided in him. He could only hope that it was not too late to begin again. When Lucinda knew him better she might understand how good their lives could be.

Carrying the branch of candles to the chest beside his bed, Justin opened his book. He was an intelligent man, not a slave to his lust. He would conquer this need even if he had to go down to the kitchen yard and sluice himself under the pump.

Hell and damnation! Marriage was not supposed to be like this, he thought and groaned as he read the lines of romantic poetry. He could not think of anything less likely to dampen the fires burning inside him, but the trouble was his mind did not want to think of anything but his lovely wife.

* * *

Lucinda woke when Alice brought her a tray of tea the next morning. She pushed herself up against the pillows and smiled at her.

‘This is so kind of you, Alice.’

‘I wanted to ask, my lady…’ Alice looked at her uncertainly. ‘Do you think it would be all right if I brought the child down to the nursery wing sometimes? There are such wonderful things she could play with there and it seems a shame not to use them.’

‘Perhaps—if my husband is out,’ Lucinda was doubtful, but she, too, had felt it was a shame that all the treasures of the nursery were going to waste when Angela was such a lively intelligent child.

‘I’ll be very careful, my lady. I’ve told the others that I’m helping to look after a motherless child that you’ve taken in out of the goodness of your heart. Mrs Mann said she’d heard that you went to the deathbed of your sick cousin on your wedding day. She says you ought to have left your letter where it could be found, but concedes it was a charitable thing to do.’

‘Does she believe my husband knows the child is there?’ Lucinda felt a prick of conscience.

‘Well, I might have let her think something of the sort, though I didn’t actually lie to her.’

‘I am getting in so deep, Alice.’ Lucinda sighed. ‘I should have told the truth in the first place, but I hesitated and it gets harder.’

‘Well, my lady, I think it should be your right to have the child here if you want her. I shan’t censure you—and if you ever needed help with her I should be ready to leave here and do whatever you wish.’

‘I know you love her and I am so grateful. I must gather the courage to tell my husband and hope that he will listen and not become angry.’

Alice was about to say more when the door from the dressing room opened and Justin walked in. He was dressed in riding clothes and looked surprised, as if he had not expected to find Lucinda here.

‘I thought you might have gone for a walk?’

‘Not this morning,’ Lucinda replied. ‘You are about to go riding. If you will wait, I should like to come with you, Justin.’

‘Twenty minutes?’ His eyebrows arched. ‘I shall walk down to the stables and arrange for your mare to be saddled. Can you be ready by the time I return?’

‘Yes, I shall hurry. Alice will help me. I promise I shall be no more than twenty minutes.’

He smiled his disbelief, but made no further comment before leaving the room. Lucinda jumped out of bed. She washed hastily in the water left over in her jug from the previous evening and dressed in the elegant green-velvet riding habit Alice had hastily laid out for her. Catching her long hair in a net, she placed a hat at a jaunty angle and pinned it in place.

Smiling at Alice, she left the room and ran downstairs and out through the hall to the courtyard at the front of the house, just as Justin approached with a groom and two horses.