The Player (Rockliffe Book 3) (40 page)

‘Thank you.
 
That would seem to cover everything.’
 
He looked at the Duchess and said, ‘It’s extremely good of you to involve
yourself in our deception.’

Adeline laughed.
 
‘It might surprise you to know how much practice we’ve had.
 
You are not the only couple whose wedding
became fodder for the gossips.’
 
Rising,
she said, ‘Lady Sarre … let me show you to your rooms. I’m sure you’d like to
refresh yourself after your journey and
I’d
like the opportunity to indulge in a little feminine conversation.
 
Unless I miss my guess, Nicholas is about to use
your husband’s presence to renew his attempts to persuade Tracy to let him ride
The Trojan – which is an argument he will never win and which I’m quite tired
of hearing.’

As they climbed the stairs, Caroline said shyly,
‘I’m so glad you’re feeling better.
 
His
Grace was very worried.’

‘His Grace,’ replied Adeline serenely, ‘was beginning
to drive me demented.
 
And you should
call him Rock, you know.
 
Aside from
myself, everyone does.
 
Also, I
understand you spent part of your wedding day helping him dig a bullet out of
your husband.
 
I imagine that must have
been spectacularly awful.’

‘It was.
 
But I should admit that his Grace – Rock – did all the digging.
 
He was splendid.’

‘Yes.
 
He
always is.’
 
She opened a door. ‘Here we
are.
 
I hope you will find everything you
need but, if not, don’t hesitate to ring. I gather you haven’t yet acquired a
maid so I’ll send mine to help you dress for dinner, if you wish.’

‘That would be kind.
 
Normally, I can manage by myself but Adrian
has bought some new gowns that defeat me.’

The aquamarine gaze dwelled on her thoughtfully.

‘Tracy says his lordship is a very talented actor
– which is a thing I’m having trouble believing.
 
Is it true?’

‘Perfectly true.’
 
Caroline beamed and turned pink with pride. ‘He’s wonderful.’

‘Ah.’
 
Smiling a little at having learned what she wanted to know, Adeline
turned to go. ‘Then I’ll hope that he may be coaxed into giving us a brief
performance.’

‘I don’t think you’ll find him difficult to persuade,
your Grace.
 
To tell the truth, the
difficulty is
stopping
him doing it.’

*
 
*
 
*

Later, when Rockliffe was alone with his wife, he
said, ‘Well?
 
What do you make of them?’

Adeline settled more comfortably into the curve of
his arm.

‘It’s as you said.
 
He’s very reserved – which makes it difficult to believe in the acting
except that Caroline implied he frequently presents a façade.
 
She, of course, is hopelessly in love with
him … but what he feels is impossible to say.’

‘Quite – though I have my suspicions.
 
However, being shot on his wedding day has
probably … delayed a few things.’
 
He
laced his fingers with hers and added, ‘If that’s so, he has all my sympathy.’

‘Yes.
 
He
would do. So I thought I might help with that.’

‘Dear me.
 
Should I be alarmed?’

‘No.
 
It’s
very simple.
 
Jeanne will help Caroline
dress but be … unavailable … later.
 
I’m
sure Lord Sarre is capable of dealing with his wife’s laces.’
 
She smiled.
 
‘And, if he’s not, you can always give expert instruction.’

~
 
*
 
*
 
~
 
*
 
*
 
~

Reluctantly deciding that the gold, embroidered
gown was probably unsuitable for what the Duchess had described as ‘a simple
family dinner’, Caroline allowed Jeanne to lace her into the third of Adrian’s
gifts.
 
A deep, Nile-blue watered taffeta
with a pearl-trimmed
décolletage
, it
clung to her shoulders and waist and made her hair look the colour of honey.

Jeanne gave the skirt a final twitch, stepped back
to inspect her handiwork and said, ‘That’s very nice, my lady.
 
Perfect for you, if you don’t me saying.’

‘Thank you.’
 
Caroline smiled and couldn’t help adding, ‘My husband chose it.’

‘You’re lucky he has such good taste, then.
 
Some gentlemen have no idea.
 
Now … let’s see what we can do with your
hair.’
 
She picked up a strand and let it
slide through her fingers.
 
‘It’s very
fine and almost straight … but there’s a great deal of it.
 
Yes.
 
Something simple but unusual, I think.’
 

By the time Adrian emerged from the adjoining
room, wearing a coat of unadorned black brocade over a riotously-embroidered
gold and scarlet vest, Caroline had been ready for ten minutes. But glimpsing an
expression she’d never seen before, she said doubtfully, ‘You don’t like the
gown?
 
I think it’s beautiful.’

‘
Now
it
is,’ he agreed, walking slowly towards her, his eyes oddly intent.
 
‘Now you’re wearing it.’

‘Oh.’
 
The
dimple quivered into being and she said naively, ‘What a lovely thing to say.’

‘It’s true.’
 
Adrian suddenly realised that, though it was a joy seeing her suitably
gowned, he’d arrived at the point where it wouldn’t matter if she was dressed
in a sack.
 
He said, ‘Your hair looks
charming, too … but I’m afraid to touch it.’

Her breath caught.
 
‘Do you want to?’

‘Oh yes.’
 
He gave her a brief, dazzling smile. ‘But I think I’d better not.
 
Not yet, anyway.’
 
And, offering her his arm, ‘Shall we go, my
lady?’

*
 
*
 
*

Dinner was a pleasant affair and every bit as
informal as the Duchess had promised.
 
Then, after it, the gentlemen chose to take their port in the parlour
with the ladies and Rockliffe said, ‘Far be it from me to expect you to sing
for your supper, Adrian … but there will be no peace until Adeline has seen a
sample of your theatrical talent.
 
She
believes me prone to exaggeration, you see.’

‘And you are,’ said his wife firmly. ‘But I’ll
admit I’m curious, Lord Sarre.
 
Tracy
insists that your skills are quite unlike those we see at Drury Lane.’

‘I never saw you on the stage, either,’ remarked
Nicholas.
 
‘But then, I don’t go to the
play at all if I can help it.
 
It’s just
a lot of fellows waving their arms about and bellowing.’

‘That’s not what Adrian does,’ objected
Caroline.
 
And, to her husband, ‘Show
them.’

Almost before anyone had time to register what was
happening, Adrian somehow became a muscular fellow of military bark and bearing
who spoke with an almost incomprehensible Scottish accent.
 
For perhaps three minutes, he had Lord
Nicholas standing to attention whilst he tore verbal strips off him as a “sorry
excuse for a soldier”. Then the illusion dissolved and was recreated as a
lisping, mincing Macaroni.
 
Adeline
laughingly handed him her fan and Nicholas groaned, ‘God – it’s Viscount
Ansford.’

The fan dropped neatly back into the Duchess’s lap
and the effeminate Viscount briefly became a gloomy Russian before turning into
Count von Rainmayr. He leaned heavily on a poker in lieu of a cane and thanked
Adeline with old-fashioned courtesy when she retrieved it after it slipped from
his grasp.
 
At some point, the Count’s
eyes met those of the Duke and he gave the merest suggestion of a shrug.
 
A gleam of amusement lit the night-dark eyes
but Rockliffe said nothing.

After a few moments, Adrian straightened his back
and replaced the poker.
 
Glancing round
at his audience, he said, ‘Enough?’

‘Just one more?’ pleaded Caroline, her face
glowing with pleasure.
 

He looked at her, a small half-smile touching his
mouth.

‘You have a specific request?’

‘Yes.’
 
She
smiled back at him. ‘Please.’

‘Ah. I gather I’m to guess?’

‘Can’t you?’

‘
Bien
s
û
r
,
Madame
.’
 
In the space of a heartbeat,
Adrian relaxed his posture, altered the timbre of his voice and dropped
seamlessly into Claude Duvall.
 
‘Since it
appears I have been so careless as to forget my pistol, I cannot demand your
money or your life,
Monsieur le
Duc
.
 
This is an embarrassment,
you understand. So perhaps,’ he continued, swinging round to Adeline, ‘I will
say instead, “Your money or your wife”.’
 
He bowed and held out a hand, ‘Come
,
Madam la Duchesse
.
 
Venez
danser
avec
moi
.’

‘I think not, Monsieur,’ she laughed. ‘You are a
stranger – and, I suspect, a rogue.’

‘Of the very blackest,
Madame
,’ he agreed, cheerfully. ‘But if you will not dance, I must
claim instead your jewels. As to my name,’ he glanced around, ‘does no one
guess it?’

‘Claude Duvall,’ drawled Rockliffe.
 
‘The so-called gentleman highwayman, who
danced with the wives before robbing the husbands and thus went from the scaffold
into legend.’

‘Romantic as that sounds,’ said Adeline, ‘one
can’t dance without music.’

Claude Duvall’s laughing grey eyes flew to
Caroline’s brown ones.
 

‘And you,
ma
petite
? What do you say to that?’

Smiling, she said softly, ‘There is always music.
 
One has but to listen.’

‘
Tout
à
fait
.
Come … tread a measure with me.’

Duvall drew her smoothly up into his arms.
 
This time, however, instead of the swaying
dance she remembered, he guided her into a slow, graceful turn before catching
her close against his chest and whispering, ‘Our interval isn’t over,
mignonne
.
 
It is only now beginning.’
 

And dropped a fleeting kiss on her lips before
handing her back into her chair.

The Duke and Duchess of Rockliffe exchanged
glances.

Baffled, Nicholas said, ‘A French highwayman?
 
That’s an odd choice.’

‘Not at all,’ said Caroline, drowning in her
husband’s eyes. ‘He’s a particular friend of mine.’

There was a small silence.
 
Then, Rockliffe looked across at Adrian and
said, ‘That breeds a suspicion I suspect I would prefer not to have
verified.
 
But if you plan to adopt
mundane respectability at any point, I’d recommend that you do it sooner rather
than later.
 
Meanwhile … more port,
anyone?’

*
 
*
 
*

By the time Adrian appeared, Caroline had managed
to unpin her hair and was starting to loosen the parts of it that Jeanne had
braided.
 
Catching sight of her husband
in the mirror, she was immediately aware that he had shed both coat and vest
and, for the first time ever, was standing there in his shirtsleeves.
 
She swallowed hard, wondering if he knew how
well it suited him … and why he was lurking, with apparent nonchalance, in the
doorway.

She said, ‘I thought you’d sit talking with the
Duke and Lord Nicholas for hours yet.’

‘Nick wanted me to play cards.’

‘Oh.
 
Perhaps
you should just tell him why you won’t?’

‘I did. Thanks to Rockliffe, he wasn’t as
surprised as he should have been.’
 
He
shifted his shoulders against the door-frame, hesitated for a moment and then
said, ‘Would it be all right if I came in?’

Caroline’s hands dropped from her hair and she
turned to face him.

‘Of course it’s all right.
 
Why are you asking?’

Because I’m
totally out of my depth and likely to do something crass.

‘In order not to appear presumptuous.’
 
He crossed the room towards her and, reaching
out, took one of the long, plaited strands in his fingers.
 
‘May I?’

Startled but pleased and suddenly a little shy,
she nodded.
 

Adrian began gently unplaiting and smoothing with
slow deliberate hands.
 
He said
conversationally, ‘Have I ever mentioned that your hair is beautiful?’

‘Not in so many words.’
 
She strove for something else to say and
added, ‘It’s too long.’

‘Only a woman would say that.’
 
He smiled at her in the mirror. ‘No man ever
would.’
 

‘Really?’

‘Really.
 
A
man would only think of losing himself in the scent and silk of it.’

A wholly unexpected tremor shot along her nerves
and a pulse throbbed, just once, deep in her body.
 
She said, ‘A man … such as yourself, for
example?’

‘Yes.’ Adrian combed his fingers through the
loosened plait, enjoying the way it rippled and aware that her breathing had
changed.
 
He moved on to the next braid
and said in a tone wholly devoid of expression, ‘Why did you want me to do
Claude Duvall?’

‘I just … I think I just wanted to meet him
again.’

‘I see.’
 
He
gave the merest suggestion of a shrug.
 
‘He’s very charming, of course. And light-hearted and … uncomplicated.’
 

Unlike
myself
.
 
The words remained unspoken
but Caroline heard them nonetheless.

Meeting his eyes in the mirror, she said, ‘Yes, he
is.
 
He’s exactly the sort of romantic,
not-quite-a-hero to make a girl sigh.
 
I
should know, after all.’
 
She managed a
faintly self-deprecating smile and then added, ‘But that’s not why I wanted to
see him.’

‘No?’

‘No.
 
I
haven’t any secret, lingering regrets, if that’s what you thought.’

‘I … wondered.’

‘You need not.
 
Ever.
 
Claude Duvall was wildly
attractive and I’m not sorry I met him.
 
But he pales into insignificance beside Adrian Devereux – who is every
bit as attractive but also possesses a myriad of other incredible
qualities.
 
No woman fortunate enough to
know Adrian would have chosen Claude. In fact, I don’t believe that any woman
fortunate enough to know Adrian would look twice at any other man at all.’
 

A hint of colour crept along his cheekbones.

‘That’s more than I deserve.’

She rose from the stool and turned to lay a hand
against his cheek.

‘No.
 
It’s a
good deal
less
than you deserve.’
 
Her heart was beating erratically fast but she
knew that if she did not say this now, she never would.
 
‘I love you.
 
I love your honesty, your unfailing kindness and the fact that – though
you’ve had precious little of it yourself or perhaps
because
of that – you have a passion for justice. I think you are
the most remarkable man I’ve ever met and utterly beautiful, both in body and
spirit. And your smile doesn’t just make me sigh, Adrian.
 
It steals my breath and lights the world.’

‘Oh God.’ His arms went around her and he hid his
face against her hair. For a long time, he remained silent but eventually, in
muffled accents, he said, ‘I never expected … that is to say, I hoped, of
course … but, after everything, I didn’t think you would …’ He groaned. ‘Listen
to me – not even able to manage a whole sentence.
 
I sound like an imbecile. It’s just that I
can’t … that there are things I can’t seem to get right without acting.
 
That’s how I manage, you see.
 
How I’ve managed for a long time … because
it’s easier.’

‘I know.
 
It’s all right.’

‘No it isn’t.
 
I don’t want to do that – particularly not with you. I want us to build
a life together and for every part of it to be
real
.
 
But I’m not good at
simply being myself.
 
I know that sounds
ridiculous but --’

‘It doesn’t.
 
And you’re a lot better at it than you think.’

‘Thanks to you, I’m learning.
 
And if I make mistakes, it won’t be because I
don’t try.’
 
He lifted his head and
looked down at her.
 
‘On our wedding day,
after Rock got Marcus’s bullet out of me, I recall promising to ask you
something.’

She smiled at him. ‘Do you still think you need to?’

‘Yes.
 
No.
 
Probably not.’ He drew an
unsteady breath. ‘Since I haven’t got much right so far you couldn’t be blamed
for telling me to go away. But I hope you won’t.
 
I want you so very much, you see. And I’d
like the chance to do better.’ He stopped and, as if it was the last straw,
added, ‘Now I’m making you cry – and, of course, I’ve no idea why or what to do
about it.’