The Mistress of Hanover Square (2 page)

Their conversation was ended as they were drawn into the company. Susannah’s guests were of all ages and included some young people, who had been allowed to come down to dinner because it was nearly Christmas. The eclectic mix of young and old, Harry’s relatives and friends of the couple, made for a lively evening. The younger members were sent to bed after their meal, but the older guests continued in their merry way until long past midnight.

It was not until the moment that she had decided to retire that Gerard approached Amelia once more.

‘Shall we say ten o’clock for our walk?’ he asked. ‘If that is not too early for you?’

‘I am always an early riser.’

‘You must wrap up well, for I think it may be a cold morning.’

‘I enjoy walking in any kind of weather, except a downpour,’ Amelia assured him.

Their arrangements made, Amelia went upstairs
to the apartment she shared with Emily. She saw that Emily was looking thoughtful and asked her if she had enjoyed the evening.

‘You did not find the young company too much, dearest?’

‘It was a delightful evening,’ Emily assured her. ‘Mr Sinclair and I joined in a guessing game with some of the young people at the dinner table. I do not know when I have had such fun.’ A wistful expression came to her eyes. ‘I was an only child and I doubt I shall have…’ She blinked hard, as if to stop herself crying. ‘I am certain Mr Sinclair means to make me an offer, Amelia. What shall I do?’

‘I believe you should tell him the truth. He will keep your confidence—Toby Sinclair is a true gentleman. If he still wishes for the marriage, he will make it clear to you.’

‘And if he does not?’ Emily lifted her head as if to seek guidance and then nodded as she answered her own question. ‘I must bear it. You are quite right, Amelia. I cannot be less than truthful, though it may make things awkward for the rest of our stay here.’

‘Perhaps if you could prevent him speaking for a few days, and then tell him just before we leave. If he needs time to consider his feelings, he would have his chance before following us to Coleridge.’

‘You are so wise and sensible,’ Emily said and looked relieved. ‘I shall do my best to avoid being alone with him until the day before we leave.’

‘Try not to brood on the outcome.’ Amelia kissed
her cheek. ‘I believe it may all turn out better than you imagine, dearest.’

Having done her best to reassure her friend, Amelia went to her own room. She dismissed her maid as soon as the girl had undone the little hooks at the back of her gown, preferring to be alone with her thoughts. It was easier to settle Emily’s doubts than her own, for she had no doubt that Toby Sinclair was deeply in love. It was more difficult to understand Gerard Ravenshead’s feelings.

Sometimes his look seemed to indicate that he felt a strong emotion for her, but at others his expression was brooding and remote. They were friends, but
was
that all? These days it seemed that Gerard thought of her as a mature lady in whom he might confide his worries concerning his daughter. He could have no idea of the passionate and improper thoughts his nearness aroused in her. She must be careful to conceal her feelings, otherwise there might be some embarrassment.

‘No! No, Lisette…I beg you…do not do it…forgive me…’
Gerard Ravenshead’s arm twitched, his head moving from side to side as he sat in the deep wing chair in the library at Pendleton. He was dreaming…a dream he had had too many times before.
‘No, I say! Stop…the blood…the blood…’
He screamed out and woke to find himself in a room where the fire had gone cold and the candles burned out.

Unable to sleep, he had dressed and come down
to read for a while and fallen into a fitful sleep. He hoped that his nightmare had woken no one. Having gone for some months without one, he had thought they were finished, but something had brought it all back to him.

Gerard rose from the chair and walked over to the window, gazing out as the light strengthened. It was dawn and another night had gone.

The library was an impressive, long room with glassfronted bookcases on three walls, a magnificent desk, occasional tables and comfortable chairs, and three sets of French windows to let in maximum light. Gerard was an avid reader and, when at home in his house in Hanover Square, often sat late into the night reading rather than retiring to his bedchamber, where he found it impossible to sleep. Indeed, he could hardly remember a night when he had slept through until morning.

Gerard was a handsome man, tall, broad in the shoulder with strong legs that looked particularly well in the riding breeches he most often wore. His coats had never needed excessive padding at the shoulder. His hair was very dark but not black, his eyes grey and sometimes flinty. His expression was often brooding, stern, perhaps because his thoughts caused him regret. At this moment he wore a pair of buffcoloured breeches and topboots and his fine linen shirt was opened to the waist. A glass of wine was to hand, but he had scarcely touched it. Gerard had long ago discovered that there was no forgetfulness in a wine bottle.

Before falling into a restless sleep, he had spent the night wrestling with his problem. His daughter was in need of feminine company, and not just that of nursemaids or a governess. He too was in need of a female companion: a woman with whom he could share his hopes and dreams, a woman he could admire and respect. In short, he needed a wife. Having made one mistake with the young French girl he had married out of pity, he did not wish to make another. Easy enough to find a mistress or even a young woman willing to become Countess Ravenshead, but there was only one woman Gerard wanted as his wife—the woman he had been denied when he was a young man and head over heels in love.

He touched the scar at his right temple, the only blemish on a strong and handsome face, his eyes darkening at the memory it aroused. Amelia’s brother had instructed his servants to beat him when he dared to ask for her hand as a young man; he had not been wealthy enough to please the proud Sir Michael Royston! However, it was not fear of Sir Michael’s displeasure that made Gerard hesitate to ask Amelia Royston if she would be his wife now. Guilt weighed heavily on his conscience, because he had not told anyone the whole truth concerning his wife’s death. It was the reason for his nightmares.

‘Damn you, Lisette. Let me be…’
His eyes were dark with memories as he relived the dream.
‘So much blood…so much blood…’

She
had
been ill for a long time after the birth of
her child, but it was not that illness that had caused her death. Lisette had died by her own hand.

He found her with her wrists cut in a bath of warm water. She was still alive when he dragged her from the bath, but barely breathing. He had tried frantically to save her, sending his servant for the doctor, but his efforts were in vain and she was dead when the doctor arrived. Lisette had been buried and Gerard mourned the loss of a young life.

He had not loved her, but she haunted his dreams because he blamed himself for her death. He had married her out of pity, because she was young, alone and with child, abandoned by her lover in a country that was not her own. He knew that the father of her child was an English officer, but Lisette had never named him. His own dreams turned to dust, Gerard had done what he believed was the right thing—a good thing—but he had been unable to love her; when Lisette finally understood that, she had taken her own life.

‘I am so sorry…so very sorry…’

Gerard had never been able to confess the truth to another living soul. He carried it inside, where it continued to fester. If he allowed his guilt to haunt him, it would ruin his life. Gerard had no idea whether or not Amelia would marry him if he asked her. What would she think if she knew the truth concerning his wife’s death?

He had been on the point of asking her to be his wife once, but an urgent message had sent him hurrying to his daughter’s side in France. Little Lisa
was a demanding child and she did not like her papa to leave her for long periods. Realising she needed more than her nurses, Gerard had brought her to England and placed her in the charge of an English nanny, but neither Lisa nor her papa was truly content.

Gerard had reached the conclusion that he would never know true happiness unless he asked Amelia Royston to be his wife. He could not marry her without confessing his secret, which was one of the reasons why he had hesitated so long, for he feared that she would turn from him in disgust. He had wanted to die on the battlefield the first time he lost Amelia; to let himself hope and then lose her a second time would destroy him.

This was ridiculous! He was a man of six and thirty and should be able to face up to the truth without fear of rejection. It might be better if he forgot about marriage altogether. He had broken Lisette’s heart, causing her to commit suicide. Perhaps he would do better to remain unwed.

Amelia saw Gerard waiting for her the next morning as she went down to the hall. He was wearing a long coat with several capes, a warm muffler bound about his throat and a fur hat in the Russian style. He smiled his approval as he saw that she too was wearing a thick cloak and muffler, her gloved hands tucked inside a fur muff that hung suspended from a chain about her neck.

‘I see you are prepared for the weather, Amelia. There is a fine frost this morning.’

‘As there should be for Christmas Eve,’ she replied. ‘I think it will be just right for a brisk walk about the gardens, sir.’

‘My daughter would not agree with you.’ Gerard looked rueful. ‘I believe I was wrong to leave her so long in France. She finds our English weather cold and damp and asks constantly when do we return to Paris.’

‘Do you think of leaving England permanently?’ Amelia asked, doing her best to conceal her feeling of acute disappointment.

‘I considered it for a while,’ Gerard confessed. ‘However, I have decided that I should prefer to live in England where I have friends rather than mere acquaintances. Lisa must come to terms with the situation. I believe she will be happier once the summer comes.’

‘I think you may have been in the habit of giving her her own way?’ Amelia tipped her head to one side, her eyebrows slightly raised.

‘Yes, I have spoiled her,’ Gerard admitted and laughed. ‘She is a little charmer and I fear that I may have given in too often to her whims—which may be why she is giving poor Nanny such a difficult time. I hear complaints that she is sometimes sulky and unresponsive, though with me she is very different.’

Amelia was thoughtful. ‘Is the nanny well recommended?’

‘Her references were good. She came from a family with whom she had served for more than six years.
However, I have wondered if she is a little too strict with the child. I may have been too lenient, but I would not have Lisa’s life made a misery. It is not easy for a man alone…’ Gerard glanced at Amelia, a rueful look in his eyes. ‘I feel in need of a lady’s advice. Some ladies take little interest in their children. They feel their duty is done once the heir is produced, but you make it your business to care for unfortunate children. You might be able to tell me what to do for the best as far as my daughter is concerned.’

Amelia kept her smile in place despite her disappointment. It was as she had feared—he wanted only to discuss his daughter. ‘I would need to see Lisa and her nanny together. It would be best if it happened casually. If Nanny knows she is being observed, I should learn nothing.’

‘You understand at once, as I knew you would,’ Gerard said, looking pleased. ‘I brought Lisa to Pendleton with me, though I did not allow her to come down to dinner last evening for she is not ready yet. However, she will be present at the children’s party this afternoon. Susannah has lots of small presents and prizes for the young ones. I shall be there. Perhaps…if it is not too much trouble?’ He arched his brows at her.

‘I had intended to be there anyway. I enjoy these things and Susannah will need a little help to organise the games and present giving. It will be no trouble to observe your daughter and her nanny.’

‘How generous you are…’ He paused as Amelia gave an impatient shake of her head. ‘It will be good
to have a lady’s opinion in this matter. I have no female relations that I may call upon.’

‘Does your late wife not have a family?’

‘I have no idea. I met Lisette after a bloody battle between the French and the Spanish troops. She had been ill used and I took pity on her. I married her to protect her and to give her unborn child my name. She never spoke of her family. I imagine they were killed during the conflict…’ Gerard was looking straight ahead, a nerve flicking at his temple. ‘I knew nothing about her, except that she was French and clearly of gentle birth.’

‘You love the child very much, do you not?’

‘I fell in love with her when she was born. I was present and helped bring her into the world for there were few doctors available to us—and so she became mine.’ Gerard glanced towards her. ‘After I left England, I was a disappointed man, Amelia. At one time I had nothing to live for. Indeed, I might have welcomed death on the battlefield. I married Lisette because it seemed the best way to protect her and I had abandoned all hope of happiness…but when her child was born I loved the child from the first moment of seeing her.’

‘Yes, you mentioned something of this once before.’Amelia looked thoughtful. ‘You said that your wife was ill for a long time after the child’s birth?’

‘She took no interest in the babe at all. I was able to secure the services of a wetnurse. Often I cared for the child myself, changing her and feeding her as she began to take solid foods. Lisette had no
interest in anything for a long time. When she recovered a little…’ He shook his head, as she would have questioned him. ‘After she died, I engaged the services of a nurse, and when the war was over I made the decision to keep Lisa in France with me. At that time I was not sure what to do for the best.’

‘You thought you might live there because your child’s mother was French?’

‘I must confess that for a while I considered leaving the child in France with a nurse,’ he admitted. ‘I was a soldier, a single man—and my estate was in some trouble. I have rectified that now, though I am not as rich as Pendleton or Coleridge.’ He gave Amelia a rueful look. ‘When we first met I had hardly any fortune at all. I dare say that was the reason Sir Michael did not consider me a worthy husband for his sister.’