A Regency Lord's Command: The Disappearing Duchess / The Mysterious Lord Marlowe
Anne Herries
ANNE HERRIES lives in Cambridgeshire, where she is fond of watching wildlife and spoils the birds and squirrels that are frequent visitors to her garden. Anne loves to write about the beauty of nature and sometimes puts a little into her books, although they are mostly about love and romance. She writes for her own enjoyment and to give pleasure to her readers. Anne is a winner of the Romantic Novelists’ Association Romance Prize. She invites readers to contact her on her website: www.lindasole.co.uk (https://www.lindasole.co.uk).
A Regency Lord’s Command
The Disappearing Duchess
The Mysterious Lord Marlowe
Anne Herries
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Table of Contents
Cover (#u937019cb-d28b-526b-8047-a3007c99f0d7)
About the Author (#u1c3ece3b-051c-521b-9d4c-3b847a55c0d7)
Title Page (#u3da53eff-6df4-55ae-b06d-5f09b75b9ba2)
The Disappearing Duchess (#ucda1a306-e02b-506a-93dc-316b2bbdfc9f)
Prologue (#uc1419605-410b-5889-8535-c057edcb5398)
Chapter One (#u4ac84eac-91b0-58f8-8d66-86894c1c99b2)
Chapter Two (#ubcf41fba-1a65-559a-a58b-d06c6efa9f4a)
Chapter Three (#u90bf31de-f536-503d-abb7-9dd2cc60a596)
Chapter Four (#u35f09231-4049-561d-ae00-86e75d0f2c70)
Chapter Five (#u3cb08408-6957-5386-b393-edd8d846feb7)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
The Mysterious Lord Marlowe (#litres_trial_promo)
Prologue (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Two (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Three (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Afterword (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
The Disappearing Duchess (#ulink_e1e34f98-fde6-533e-8f3b-d2d4490f5bbf)
Anne Herries
Prologue (#ulink_67544855-22d1-5a4e-8d7e-24689e7d72a3)
Justin, Duke of Avonlea, looked round at the sea of faces. They were all staring at him expectantly, believing that he was about to make a speech of welcome and cut the cake with his bride. His mouth was dry, his chest tight with a kind of suspended agony, as he struggled to come to terms with what was seemingly going on.
Lucinda, his beautiful bride, had gone. She had left him almost immediately after the wedding ceremony. They’d returned from the church together in the carriage to his beautiful home, where the lavish reception was being held. She’d excused herself to him, saying that the flounce on her wedding gown was torn.
‘I shall be no more than ten minutes, Avonlea,’ she’d said with that shy smile he found so attractive. ‘Please make my excuses to our guests. I shall join you as soon as I can.’
‘Of course, my love.’ He’d taken her hand to kiss the palm. ‘You look beautiful, Lucinda. Have I told you how much I adore you?’
‘Yes, Justin, several times. I am very fond of you, too,’ she’d said, smiled and left him to run lightly up the stairs.
That was more than an hour ago and since then no one had seen anything of her. Concerned after thirty minutes or so that she was keeping their guests waiting unduly, he’d gone up to her rooms to ask what was causing the delay. He had found only her maid, Alice.
‘Where is your mistress?’ he asked. ‘We must not keep the guests waiting any longer.’
‘I have not seen Lady Avonlea since you left the church, your Grace.’
‘But she came directly up to have the flounce mended on her wedding gown. How can you not have seen her?’
‘I have been waiting for her,’ the maid said and looked nervous. ‘Truly, she has not been here, sir.’
‘Lucinda told me her gown was torn…’ He looked around the room, which had been recently refurbished in the colours his young wife loved: creams, various shades of rose and gold, blending perfectly. No expense had been spared and he had imagined her being happy in the luxury he had provided. ‘Is there no sign of her gown? Did she change into something else?’
The maid could not meet his eyes as she shook her head. ‘Forgive me, sir. I was gone but a few moments and only to make sure that my lady’s bags were safely stowed ready for your journey. When I returned I thought a few small things might have disappeared, but I was not certain.’
Avonlea strode over to the armoire and opened it, but the shelves were full of the gowns and beautiful silks he had purchased for his bride’s pleasure.
‘I cannot see that anything has been taken.’ He frowned at the maid, feeling stunned. How could his bride have disappeared from her home on her wedding day, and more importantly, why? ‘Make up your mind, girl—this is important. Surely your mistress would not leave without taking anything—or leaving a message?’
‘There was an old gown—and some trinkets that my lady valued, which have gone from the dressing chest, but all her good jewels are here, your Grace.’
‘Your mistress must be in the house or gardens,’ Justin said, refusing to believe that what the maid was implying could be right. Why on earth would Lucinda leave him? He could think of no possible reason for they had been on good terms; there had been no quarrel, no dispute between them. The marriage might not have been a love match, but there was respect and affection on both sides—at least he had believed so when Lucinda accepted his suit. What could have changed her? What had he done that she must flee from him without a word?
He took a turn about the room, trying to find an answer to his questions; discovering no clue, he turned back to the anxious maid.
‘Search your mistress’s room thoroughly and make certain whether there is a letter left somewhere. Also, please make a list of what has been taken. I need to know whether this was planned or an impulse. In the meantime, I shall have a search made for her.’
The search had begun, but as yet no sign of the new duchess had been found and no one seemed to have seen her.
The guests were getting restless, beginning to gossip amongst themselves. Justin could see concern, intrigue and some exchanged knowing looks; his true friends would be anxious, but some of his slight acquaintances might be amused if they learned that his bride had left him—not at the altar, it was true—but before the wedding reception had been held. It was a lowering thought and one that hurt his pride. Accustomed to homage, and with his good looks and vast wealth, sought after by every matchmaking mama in England, he had thought long and hard before asking a lady to be his wife. Lucinda might be a virtual nobody from the country, but her modesty and shy smile had convinced him that she would be the perfect wife for a man in his position.
Since childhood Justin had been taught his duty. He was born to a family of impeccable lineage and respectability. There were no skeletons to hide in his family closet, no scandals or acts of dishonour.
‘Always remember your honour,’ his father had told him as a young lad. ‘No matter how much it hurts, no matter how hard, you must always do your duty, Justin. A gentleman’s honour and his family name come first. Promise me you will never forget, my son.’
Justin promised. His first offer of marriage to a lady of whom he knew his father to approve had been refused; slighted, it had taken Justin a long time to select another lady. He had believed Lucinda perfect in every way—and now she had run away, making a fool of him before his friends on his wedding day, hurting him in a way he would not have imagined possible until this moment. Looking round the room, he drew a deep breath, squashing the anger and disappointment that raged inside him.
‘Forgive me,’ he announced and the voices were silenced, faces inquisitive, eager for news. ‘I am distressed to tell you that my wife has been taken ill. She will not be able to attend the reception. Please, enjoy the food and wine provided. I want to thank you all for coming and beg you to excuse me.’
He saw from their faces that they guessed he was lying. They had sensed something was wrong. He cared not to speculate on what they imagined was going on, but nothing could be stranger than the truth.
Chapter One (#ulink_13c4b201-cfdf-557e-9064-6fadb57cdc14)
‘You have no idea where Lucinda went or why?’ His good friend and neighbour Andrew, Lord Lanchester, looked at him thoughtfully.
‘I’ve had no word from her in almost two months,’ Justin replied morosely.
Andrew had just returned from a tour of duty as the Duke of Wellington’s aide in Spain. Wounded at Salamanca, he was now recovered, with only a slight limp to show for his suffering.
‘I’ve searched everywhere. I’ve spent weeks looking for her, but although one or two of the tenants think they may have seen her walking near the estate on the day of her disappearance no one knows where she has gone.’
‘What else have you done?’ Andrew frowned. ‘Have you employed an agent to trace her? Offered a reward for any information regarding her whereabouts?’
‘I have thought about employing an agent secretly. I did not wish to offer a reward, because it would cause such a scandal. If—when—Lucinda returns, I do not want vicious tongues to destroy her.’
‘You cannot hope to keep this brushed under the carpet?’ Andrew raised his eyebrows. ‘My sister Jane was here for the wedding and she told me as soon as I returned home from Spain that she felt something was amiss. She is not a gossip, but she was fond of Lucinda and is naturally worried about her, especially since she’s heard no word since that day. The tale of Lucinda’s disappearance has got about and people will talk, however discreet you are.’
‘Your sister has been both considerate and kind,’ Justin said, turning to look at his long-time friend and close neighbour. ‘I know that she is Lucinda’s good friend and I have been able to voice some of my concerns to her. However, she has no idea of what might have caused Lucinda to run away.’
‘Are you certain she has run away?’ Andrew asked gently. ‘Couldn’t there be another reason for her disappearance?’
Justin ran his fingers through his thick hair. There were dark circles beneath his eyes, proof of his sleepless nights, and a new harshness about his mouth. He seemed not to hear his friend. ‘What made her do it? I have racked my brains to try to think if I did or said something that distressed or frightened her. If she did not wish to be my wife, she could have sent me a note before the wedding to break it off. Why marry me and then leave without a word? Surely I am not such a monster that she feared me?’
‘I have no answers for you,’ Andrew said. ‘Had I been at home I should have advised employing an agent immediately, as it all sounds very suspicious to me. You are certain there was no letter? She left no word for you?’
‘Her maid had not seen her and there was nothing that either of us could find anywhere.’
‘Why not search her room again? Something may have been missed. I remember meeting Lucinda once when she and Jane were at the Raddlit Academy for young ladies. She did not strike me as the type of girl to behave badly. Jane liked her a great deal and my sister is usually a fine judge of character.’
‘Lucinda is the sweetest creature I have ever met,’ Justin said and the look he gave Andrew was one of despair. ‘I cannot believe she would hurt me like this—yet perhaps you are right, maybe there is more to this story than meets the eye.’
‘If you will permit me, I shall find an agent for you. I think we should give him Lucinda’s maiden name. She will hardly be using yours, Avonlea.’
‘Lucinda Seymour,’ Justin said. ‘She was such a quiet girl, but her smile attracted me from the beginning. When her aunt brought her to Harrogate I knew she was the one I wanted as my wife from the first moment I saw her—but she resisted me. She was polite but reserved, keeping me at a distance. It was not until she came to stay with Jane and we met again at your home that she let down her guard enough for me to have hope.’ His eyes reflected his anguish. ‘She told me she was very fond of me just before we parted. Why did she say that and then leave me? What could she hope to gain?’
‘My guess is that there is some mystery here,’ Andrew said. ‘I cannot solve it, but I am certain that when Lucinda is ready she will return and explain everything.’
‘If she cared for me even a little, she could have told me what distressed her so very much.’
‘Forgive me, Avonlea—are you in love with her?’
‘Naturally, I care for her…but I am not certain I know what love is in the sense you mean—there was precious little of it in our house when I was a lad.’
‘Then it was not a love match.’ Andrew looked thoughtful. ‘Perhaps she felt that you might wish her gone if you knew the truth about her.’
Avonlea stiffened. ‘What do you mean, pray?’
‘How well did you know her? Was there some secret in her past, perhaps?’
‘Nothing that she could not tell me. I would have listened and helped her if I could.’ Justin frowned. ‘Do you know of something?’
Andrew hesitated, then, ‘I remember she left school quite suddenly and Jane did not hear from her for some years. She was very distressed about it at the time.’
‘You do not know why she left?’
‘I have no idea. Of course, it may have no bearing on this matter.’
‘I do not see how it could.’
‘Then perhaps she will return when she is ready.’
‘I pray that you are right. I fear for her. I think she has very little money with her. I gave her some guineas for use while we travelled, but it was hardly enough to live on for the past two months, though she may have some jewels and a little money of her own, I suppose.’
Justin’s mind was torn between distress, anger and bewilderment. He had searched every day for the past few weeks, but there was no sign of his duchess. In his heart he had begun to think that she might be dead—why else had she not told him where she was or why she had gone? Had someone abducted her—or, worse, murdered her to be revenged on him? He could not think of anyone who hated him that much—but why else would she have been taken?
‘So, you would take her back—no matter the reasons for her disappearance?’
‘She is my wife,’ Justin said and looked at his friend, as if surprised at the question. He was a gentleman and a man of honour—what else could he do but take his wife back if she came to him in trouble? ‘I’ve been in hell these past weeks. Besides, it is my duty to care for her. If she is in distress, I shall help her, no matter what. I should thank God for her safe return and pray that I could make her happy.’
‘Then I shall go to London in the morning and employ an agent for you,’ Andrew said. He reached out to lay a hand on Justin’s shoulder. ‘Do not give up hope yet, my friend.’
Lucinda looked around the small kitchen and sighed. She had scrubbed the floor that morning before it was light; it was much cleaner than it had been when she first arrived, but nothing would make this hovel the kind of home in which she could bear to live. However, it was all she could afford, because she had spent the guineas her husband had given her as pin money.
If she had not run away, she might have been at Avonlea now. Lucinda felt her throat catch and a tear slid down her cheek. She brushed it away impatiently. Her husband must be so angry with her. When she’d discovered the blackmail letter lying on her dressing chest on her return from the church, she had fled in panic, taking only a few things rolled into a paisley shawl. How could anyone know her secret? It was more than five years since that terrible time when the shame had come upon her.
Her first thought had been for her husband’s good name. Avonlea was such a well-respected man and the realisation that she had brought a stain of dishonour to that proud family had almost overpowered her. She knew that he had married her because he’d believed her a girl of blameless past, modest, her reputation beyond reproach.
How she had deceived him! What a wicked thing she had done by marrying him without confessing the truth. She ought to have been resolute in refusing his obliging offer; at first, she had managed to keep a distance between them, but, as she became more attracted to him, she had found it too hard to resist the prompting of her heart. In the end she had fallen so desperately in love that she could no longer refuse Avonlea—yet she sensed he did not love her as she loved him. He spoke easily of love, but she thought it merely liking: the kind of feeling that might grow to warm affection with the years and the coming of children—but the spiteful letter would destroy his respect for her. He would hate her, wish to be free of the burden she must become to him when he learned the terrible truth.
Lucinda closed her eyes and sat down in the rocking chair by the kitchen fire, trying to control her thoughts. She had tried to block out the memory of that evil night when as a young girl she had been raped in her own room by a man she had thought her father’s trusted friend.
Warned that unless she kept silent her father would be ruined, Lucinda had said nothing until her condition had become noticed. It was a terrible misfortune that she had fallen with child so easily. When she tried to explain that she had been raped, but would not give the name of her seducer, her father had refused to listen. He had banished her to live with her strict grandmother in seclusion; when her child was stillborn, she had remained in seclusion until her father died. It was her punishment and he would not allow her to return home. Her mother had relented after her father’s death and allowed her to visit Harrogate with an aunt. It was there she had met Avonlea and begun to fall in love. She had kept her distance, because her shame was so terrible that no decent man would wish to marry her if he guessed that she had borne an illegitimate child.
‘Your father told you that you had forfeited the right to happiness,’ Mrs Seymour had told her when she mentioned the duke’s attentions. ‘I do not wish to deny you all the pleasures of life, Lucinda, but you must surely see that you can never marry?’
Because of her late father’s strictures and her mother’s doubts, Lucinda had kept Avonlea at a distance in Harrogate, but then, when they met again at the home of her great friend Jane Lanchester, she had taken the bold step of confiding in Jane, who had advised her that she must follow her heart and marry him.
Lucinda sighed as she looked around the cottage. It had hurt her so very much these past weeks to stay away from Avonlea, but the blackmail letter had told her something she had needed to confirm. Now she knew the truth and she was going to do something so daring that it frightened her.
She had fled from Avonlea in panic, not knowing what she meant to do, conscious only that she was not ready to confess the truth to a husband who had married her believing her beyond reproach.
In a state of absolute shock, she’d hardly known what to believe. Not only had the blackmailer known all of her intimate secrets, but also surprised her with the revelation that her infant hadn’t perished at birth, but was in fact even this day alive.
The blackmailer had threatened to reveal her shameful secret to the world unless she paid ten thousand pounds, but he or she had also offered to tell her where her child was living—in poverty and danger, the note had said, the words sending icy shivers down her spine.
At first resentful of the babe growing inside her, during the months of her confinement Lucinda had grown to love the idea of a child coming to life within her womb. Rejected by her family, with no one to love or care for her, she had talked to the babe, believing that when the child was born she would no longer be alone, but then after hours of pain and suffering she’d been coldly informed that the babe was dead. Lucinda had grieved for the child, but come to terms with her grief, banishing all the tainted memories to a tiny corner of her mind. She had told herself that the past no longer mattered to her—and then, suddenly, on the morning of her wedding to the duke, to learn that her child was alive!
Her mother had lied to her. The distress of learning the extent of her parent’s cruelty had completely overset her. Instead of going to Avonlea and throwing herself on his mercy, as she might had she been certain of his feelings, she had thought only to run away. Better that she simply disappear than bring shame to him.
At first the shock had been so great that Lucinda could hardly take it in; then, seized by sudden panic and the need to know the truth, she’d taken an old gown and some trinkets and fled through the gardens. In confusion, with only a vague idea of what she meant to do, she set out for her family home. She was weeping, in terrible confusion and pain as she fled, unable to think coherently. It was only in the long lonely days and nights that followed that she’d begun to think about what she was doing—to discover her feelings about the child she’d believed dead.
Lucinda had arrived at her mother’s home some ten days later, having begged lifts for some of the journey, but walking much of it. After first making her escape, she’d changed into her old gown. She’d hidden her beautiful silk wedding gown behind some hay bales in a barn at the edge of the Avonlea estate; carrying only a small bundle, she had continued her journey wearing a plain grey gown more suited to a governess than the duchess she’d become. No one had given her so much as a second glance. When she finally arrived home, her mother had greeted her with a sour look. Mrs Seymour had refused to attend her daughter’s wedding on the grounds of ill health, though her true reason was that she did not approve of Lucinda marrying anyone.
‘So you’ve come to your senses. It was a stupid thing to do, Lucinda. I suppose he threw you out?’
‘Avonlea knows nothing,’ Lucinda replied. Shaking with anger, she had thrust the letter under her mother’s nose. ‘Where is she, Mama? Where is my daughter? The child you stole from me—the child you told me was dead?’
Her mother’s face had turned pale. At first she had continued to refute her daughter’s accusation. For ten days she had tried to deny all knowledge of the child, swearing it had died at birth and that she knew nothing. Lucinda had questioned her relentlessly, never giving her a moment’s peace, and in the end she’d broken down in tears.
‘Your father would not let you keep the babe. He took it to a workhouse and…I believe she was adopted by a childless couple.’
‘Tell me their names, Mama.’
Mrs Seymour shook her head. ‘I know no more. I swear he told me nothing.’
‘Very well, give me the name of the workhouse.’
‘It will do little good after all this time.’
‘Tell me what I wish to know and I shall leave you in peace. Deny me and I shall continue to question and demand. I am no longer the frightened child I was when I was so cruelly abandoned by you.’
‘It was not my wish—but your shame had to be hidden.’
‘Why? Had you loved me as a mother should, you could have taken me away, perhaps abroad, and let me keep my babe. We might have found an honest living somehow.’
‘Why do you care about the child if you were raped, as you claim?’
‘How could you doubt me?’ Lucinda looked at her sadly. ‘The man who used me so cruelly was a monster and if my father had stood by me, he might have been punished—but Papa preferred to believe his friend’s lies. He, I hate—but my child is innocent. Mama, can you not see that I need to see my child? The knowledge that she lives is tearing at my heart. I shall never be at peace until I know how she is.’
‘What will you do if you find her?’
‘I am not certain—but I must know she is well and happy. Can you not see that I should never rest easy if I simply left her to her fate?’
‘I do not…’ Mrs Seymour’s eyes dropped in shame.
In the end she’d given her daughter all the details she had. Lucinda had left the house that same day.
It had taken her two weeks of travelling, often on foot, to find the workhouse and another week before she could persuade the woman in charge to tell her the names of the couple who had taken her daughter.
‘You understand that I told you nothing,’ she said and looked at the silver locket and ruby brooch lying in her hand. ‘Your father told us to have the brat adopted and Mrs Jackson had none of her own then.’
‘She has other children now?’
‘Aye, they come like that. She has four of them under the age of four and more than she can manage. She’ll likely be glad to get rid of Susan.’
‘You called my daughter Susan?’ The woman nodded. ‘Thank you, madam. Now will you kindly tell me where to find my daughter?’
‘You’ll find the family at the sign of the Cock’s Spur.’
‘Mrs Jackson and her husband run a hostelry?’
‘Aye, you might call it that, though some round here would have other words—’tis a den of thieves if you ask me.’
‘Thank you for the information. I hope you have told me the truth. If not, I shall return—and then you will be very sorry for lying to me. My husband is a powerful man and he will punish you.’
‘You don’t look like the wife of a powerful man.’ The warden sniffed.
‘What I choose to wear is my business,’ Lucinda said proudly.
She had walked away, her heart beating frantically.
It had not taken long to discover the inn of which the warden had told her. She had ventured inside, hoping to find a reasonable woman with whom she might bargain for the return of her daughter. However, she had soon discovered the innkeeper’s wife to be a filthy slut who harangued her husband and her customers and screamed abuse at any provocation. She’d eyed Lucinda suspiciously and demanded to know what she wanted.
‘If you’re after summat, yer’ll get naught here,’ she said. ‘If yer want to service men, you’ll do it elsewhere. I run a clean house here and don’t harbour doxies.’
‘I was looking for a child. She was adopted from the workhouse five years ago.’
‘What do yer want her fer?’
‘She is my daughter and I want her back.’
‘Yer do, do yer?’ The woman glared at her. ‘I’ll sell her fer five hundred guineas if yer like.’
‘I have only a silver trinket box and a diamond brooch that was my godmother’s,’ Lucinda said. ‘The child is my daughter. She was stolen from me at birth and I have just discovered that you have her. For pity’s sake, let me take her. I will give you all I have.’
‘Clear orf. The girl will fetch good money in a year or two. I’ve had offers for her already and they were more than you’re offering. I know your sort. Yer think I’m green behind the ears. Men will pay a fortune for a wench like that—and I’ll sell her to the highest bidder when the time comes.’
‘No, you mustn’t. Please, you can’t,’ Lucinda cried in distress. She could not allow such a wicked thing to happen. ‘I’ll get money for you. She’s my daughter. I swear it on the Bible.’
‘The price just went up to one thousand guineas,’ the woman said, a gleam of avarice in her eyes. ‘You’ve got a week to find the money or she goes to the highest bidder.’
‘Let me see Susan, please.’
‘Yer can see ‘er—but no funny business. Try snatchin’ ‘er and I’ll call me husband and yer’ll be sorry.’
Lucinda promised she would not and waited while the woman went into what looked like a kitchen at the rear. Her nails curled into the palms of her hands as she reappeared, dragging a reluctant child into the taproom. Lucinda’s heart plummeted as she saw how dirty and thin the little girl was. She wanted to weep for pity, but knew that she must show no emotion. Kneeling in front of the child, she tipped her chin with one finger and her heart turned over. She had seen those eyes before—a curious greenish-blue; she saw them every day when she looked at herself in a mirror. The child was hers. The warden had not lied to her.
Resisting the urge to snatch her in her arms and run, Lucinda smiled at the little girl, reached into her pocket and took out a small cake she’d brought with her. She offered it to the child, who looked suspicious.
‘It is a cake for you,’ she said. ‘Listen to me, Susan. One day soon I am going to fetch you. I am going to take you to live with me.’
‘Not unless I get me thousand guineas you ain’t.’ The woman shoved the little girl. ‘Back to your work.’
‘Please be kind to her,’ she said as the child bit the cake, her eyes opening in wonder as she tasted its sweetness. ‘I shall be back within the week.’
It had cost Lucinda so much pain to leave her daughter here. Her heart wrenched with pity as the child glanced back at her before disappearing into the kitchen.
‘What work does she do?’
‘Anyfin’ I tell ‘er,’ the woman answered. ‘Yer’ve got one week—and then she’s gone.’
‘I shall be back,’ Lucinda said and left before she wept.
She’d known even then that her trinkets would not fetch one-tenth of the woman’s demands for the child. Even had she sold the wedding gown she’d hidden, it would not have brought enough—though she believed it had cost many hundreds of guineas when Justin bought it for her.
Had she only brought her jewels with her she might have found the money easily enough. There was not enough time to return to Avonlea and fetch the jewels or even to ask Justin for a loan. Lucinda faced the facts. She could not raise such a huge sum and so she had only one choice. She must steal the child.
Susan had been stolen from her. She would steal her back.
First she had to make a plan. She had hired a cottage in the next village so that the innkeeper’s wife would not become suspicious. She bought other clothes and a wig to cover the flame red of her hair and she wore a torn and dirty shawl, rubbing dirt into her cheeks. In this way she had managed to visit the inn yard without being noticed by the landlady on two occasions. She had discovered that the child was given the chore of carrying out the slops first thing in the mornings, after the guests had gone down to break their fast.
And so today was the day. She locked up the cottage and left for the inn to claim her daughter as her own. At a quarter to the hour of nine she was in the yard watching, sheltering behind a wagon that had come to deliver hay for the stables. When she saw the child carrying her heavy pail down to the midden, she ran towards her.
‘Drop that and come with me,’ she instructed her. ‘I am going to take you away and look after you, my darling. That wicked woman will not punish you again.’
‘Will yer give me a cake?’ The child looked at her anxiously. ‘Yes, my dearest child. I will give you a cake every day. Come with me now and I shall take care of you.’
The child stood the pail down, offered her hand and together they ran. They hadn’t stopped running until they reached the crossroads and saw the mail coach heading towards them. Lucinda knew that it stopped briefly at the crossing and she ran to it as a gentleman got down, looking up at the coachman.
‘Please take me to the next big town.’
‘We do not stop again until we reach Watford, ma’am.’
‘That will be perfect,’ Lucinda said and placed the last of her money into his hands. ‘The child will sit on my lap.’
‘You’ve given me threepence too much,’ he said and returned the coppers to her. ‘Hop in and make sure the child behaves.’
‘She will,’ Lucinda said and put an arm about her daughter’s thin shoulders. ‘We shall both be as quiet as mice.’
Climbing into the coach, she pulled the child onto her lap, holding her close.
‘It will be all right now,’ she whispered. ‘The nasty woman will not find us and I’ll look after you. I’m your mother, you see? You were stolen from me when you were just a babe. I’d named you Angela and you are my daughter. No one will hurt you again. I promise.’
She had brought some food for the journey and took a small sugared bun from her bundle, giving it to the child. Angela’s thin body felt warm against her as she ate contentedly and then fell asleep, her head resting against Lucinda’s breast.
It was then that Lucinda realised she had only accomplished a part of her plan. The next phase would be more difficult. She had to find somewhere for them to live—there was no going back to that hovel of a cottage—and some way of earning her living.
Then she would go to Justin and tell him why she’d run away.
Tears trickled down her cheeks. She loved her husband so much and she feared he would hate her for what she’d done. Until this moment, all her thoughts had been centred on rescuing her child and it was only now that she had begun to realise the enormity of her cruelty towards the man she’d married. Afraid to tell him her secret, she had run away, leaving a simple note to say she had something she must do and would return when she could. He must have wondered why she had not confided her problem to him and he might not wish to see her.
For the first time Lucinda realised that in abandoning her husband so abruptly she might have lost her only chance of real happiness. She had been living in a nightmare, but now she had woken to the cold dawn of reality.
What was she going to do now?
‘Where was this found?’ Justin looked at the crumpled silk wedding gown, which was made of the finest materials available and had been a part of the many gifts he’d given his bride. ‘And why was it not discovered before this?’
‘It had been hidden behind some hay bales in a barn, your Grace,’ the man said, looking uncomfortable. ‘We looked in the barn for the young lady, sir. I swear we looked, but we did not think to move the hay because there was only the wall, or so we thought. The gown was found when the hay was used and someone saw a bit of silk sticking out.’
‘Yes, I understand,’ Justin said. ‘Very well. Thank you for bringing it to me.’ He took two guineas from his pocket, but the man shook his head.
‘I need no reward for bringing it to you, my lord. We’re all very sorry about what happened.’
‘Yes, thank you.’ Justin was short with the man, because he could not stand pity. His pride would not let him show his hurt to anyone. Lucinda had made a fool of him—and she’d done it deliberately. She must have hidden the gown, because if she’d been kidnapped it would not have been left behind. Besides, in all this time there had been no demand for a ransom.
After his tenant had gone, he paced the room. His nerves were at breaking point because of the hell he had suffered since his wife disappeared. Where on earth had Lucinda gone and why had she left him? Why run away on her wedding day?
There must be a clue somewhere.
His mouth firming into a grim line, he turned, left the room and walked upstairs to the apartments that should have been hers. He would search the rooms himself. Something must have been overlooked.
The rooms were empty and very neat when he entered. He began opening drawers and taking things out. Silk lingerie, stockings, gloves, scarves and handkerchiefs were tossed on to the floor. Costly gowns were pulled from the armoire and thrown carelessly onto the bed. Each chest was searched, but nothing was found. He looked at the jewel box on the dressing chest and opened it. All the jewels he’d given Lucinda were there, but he remembered that the case had a secret drawer. He pressed the button and saw that her favourite ruby brooch and also a diamond pin that her godmother had left her were gone. Giving a snarl of frustration, he knocked the case to the ground.
‘Damn you, Lucinda. Damn you for leaving me to this hell on earth.’
Seeing the beautiful things scattered over the floor, he felt some remorse for his temper and bent to retrieve a lovely pearl necklace from beneath the dressing table. Something white caught at the back took his eye. It was a piece of folded paper that had fallen behind the dressing table somehow and lodged halfway down.
He reached up to retrieve it and saw that it was a note addressed to him in Lucinda’s hand. She had written to him! He began to read eagerly.
My dearest Avonlea,
Forgive me, but something has happened—something so shocking and disturbing that I must leave at once. I shall return to explain all to you as soon as I have solved this problem. I know that my absence will cause you unease and distress, but you may tell everyone that my mother is ill and say that I have gone to nurse her. It is not the truth, but I cannot explain now. I must hurry. I love you. Lucinda.
Why had he not had the room searched properly? If this letter had been found, it might have saved him hours of heart searching and distress. His throat caught with emotion. Lucinda did not hate him. She had not fled because she feared to be his wife. In fact, though they’d never spoken deeply about their feelings, it seemed his beautiful young wife loved him! All the nightmares that had haunted him since her disappearance had vanished, leaving just two questions.
Why had she gone so suddenly and what was so shocking that she could not tell him and ask for his help?
Chapter Two (#ulink_343e3cd8-2fb2-582a-8c01-64e57b8bb369)
Lucinda hesitated in the shrubbery. She could see Jane Lanchester working in her beloved garden. Kneeling on a cushion, Jane was planting a seedling, which would flower later in the year, and intent on her work. It was foolish to be nervous. Taking a deep breath, Lucinda lifted her head and walked towards her friend.
‘Jane. Forgive me. I had to see you.’
Jane’s head came up in surprise. For a moment she stared at her and then jumped to her feet and ran the short distance between them, her arms open in welcome.
‘Lucinda! I have been in such torment, wondering if you were captive or dead. You naughty girl. Why did you not write to anyone?’
‘It was difficult.’ Lucinda looked at her awkwardly. ‘Do you hate me for what I did?’
‘Why should I?’ Jane removed the gloves she wore for gardening. ‘Come in and have some tea and tell me what has been happening. I am perfectly sure you had a good reason for what you did, as I told Avonlea. Does he know you are back?’ Lucinda shook her head. ‘He has been in great distress, you know. He couldn’t understand your disappearance and thought you might have been abducted.’
‘Surely not? I left a note promising to explain when I returned. It was on top of my jewel case.’
‘I do not know what happened, but it was not found,’ Jane told her. ‘I think the poor man thought you were afraid of him—you weren’t, I hope? I have wondered if I was wrong to advise you to marry him.’
‘I love Justin very much.’ A little sob left Lucinda’s lips. ‘I feel so awful for what I did that day, but I was in such a state I could not think. Afterwards, I wished I had waited and asked Avonlea’s advice, but at the time all I could think about was—’ She broke off, shaking her head.
‘Come in and tell me all about it,’ Jane said and then frowned as she saw a man striding towards them. ‘Here is my brother. Do you remember Andrew? I think you met him once when he was in the army.’
‘Perhaps I should go…the scandal…’ Lucinda hesitated, but Jane grabbed her arm. ‘Your brother might not wish you to know me after what I did.’
‘Nonsense. You will not run away now, Lucinda. You must at least talk to Avonlea. It is the right and proper thing to do.’
‘Yes, I shall.’
Lucinda swallowed hard. Lord Lanchester was a tall, strong man with dark hair and eyes and at that moment he looked stern.
‘Duchess,’ he said without a hint of surprise in his voice, ‘I told Avonlea that you would return. I hope you have been to see him to explain?’
‘Lucinda wanted to talk to me first,’ Jane said. ‘I am about to send for tea. You may go away for half an hour, if you please, while we talk in private.’
‘Please, it is not necessary,’ Lucinda said. ‘I shall tell you both that I left in such a hurry because I was being blackmailed. I know that I should have spoken to Avonlea and asked his advice, but I thought he might be angry—and if I am to be disgraced, he will be better off without me. It should be easy enough to annul the marriage.’
‘Blackmail?’ He frowned. ‘Do you have the letter?’
‘No…’ Lucinda swallowed hard, because she did not wish to lie, but the blackmail note held too much information—information she did not wish to share with Jane’s brother. Had he not arrived, she might have told Jane that she had stolen her daughter back, but it was too difficult to tell this stern stranger. ‘I think I shall not stay for refreshments, Jane. Do you know if Avonlea is at home, sir?’
‘I have come from him this moment. Do you know we have agents out looking for you, young lady? Your husband has been scouring the countryside for you, searching everywhere himself, day after day and even at night. He is at his wit’s end.’
Lucinda’s eyes filled with tears and she gave a little sob. ‘He will be so angry with me. I should have written to him. He will not wish to see me.’
‘You’ve upset her,’ Jane said and put an arm about her shoulders. ‘Andrew, you are a bully and I am quite cross with you.’
‘Forgive me.’ Andrew was suddenly contrite. ‘I dare say you had your reasons, Duchess. I think you may find that Avonlea is more concerned than angry.’
‘I do not think I can face him…’
‘Of course you can.’ Andrew produced a large white kerchief and handed it to her. ‘If you will permit me, I shall take you to him and I will protect you. If he is angry, I shall bring you back to Jane—there, will that make it easier for you?’
‘Yes, you must certainly return to us if Avonlea is unkind, but I do not think that the case. He cares for you dearly, Lucinda, and I know he is waiting anxiously for news,’ said Jane and her brother took up the persuasion.
‘He asked me to call because he had just found your letter. It had fallen down behind the dressing table and become lodged there. Avonlea discovered it by chance just yesterday and sent word to me because I’d been helping in the search for you.’
‘Where did you go?’ Jane asked, as Lucinda hesitated. ‘I know Avonlea sent a messenger to your mama, but she said she had not seen you.’
‘It took me a long time to reach her home…’ Lucinda faltered. ‘I walked much of the way. I dare say Avonlea’s messenger reached her before I did.’
‘Why did she not write later?’ Jane looked puzzled.
‘Mama was upset with me. We parted in anger.’
‘So you have not been staying with her all this time?’
Lucinda shook her head. ‘Only for a few days. It is a long story, Jane. Perhaps another time. I think I should go to Avonlea now. I owe my husband an explanation.’
‘Promise me you will come to me if you need help?’ Jane said and reached for her hand. ‘I am your friend and remain so always. If you are in difficulty, I shall do my best to help you.’
‘I could bring shame on you,’ Lucinda said. ‘If you knew all…’ She saw the question in her friend’s eyes. ‘No, at least not for the moment, Jane. I must speak with Avonlea first. I should have gone there immediately.’
She had wanted reassurance from her friend, but it was impossible to tell Jane her secret with Lord Lanchester standing there waiting for her.
‘There is no need for you to accompany me, sir,’ she said to him. ‘I can quite well walk to the estate from here.’
‘You will do no such thing. I shall drive you in my chaise. Jane, I shall come back immediately. Please have your refreshments and then we’ll talk. I have to leave for London after nuncheon.’
‘You will visit me soon, Lucinda?’
‘Yes.’ Lucinda gave her a wan smile. ‘I shall come soon—perhaps sooner than you think.’
Jane squeezed her arm. ‘Chin up, my dear friend. I am sure Avonlea will be kinder than you imagine.’
Following Lord Lanchester to the stables, Lucinda thought that it was all very well for Jane to say that Avonlea cared for her, but she did not yet know the whole story.
Her husband might forgive her reckless flight. He might even forgive her for not telling him that she had borne a child, but she was certain that he would not allow her to keep her newly discovered daughter. If it became known that she had an illegitimate child, people would gossip. Many would cut her and her shame would reflect on Avonlea and on her friends.
Jane had offered her a place to stay, but she would not wish to take in Lucinda’s daughter. Even if she were willing to accept the child, her brother would forbid her. Jane was the kindest and wisest friend anyone could have. When they were at school together, she had confided to Lucinda that she did not want to marry.
‘I dare say I shall be an old maid and help care for my brother’s children when he marries,’ she’d said and laughed. ‘Or I may go and live in Harrogate and hold lots of card parties and poetry readings.’
Jane might dare to know her despite her brother’s censure for she was possessed of her own fortune, but Lucinda would not wish to disoblige her. She had already made up her mind that she must make her own living and the impulse to visit Jane had come from a moment of weakness.
‘I wish you will forgive me if I was harsh to you,’ Lord Lanchester said as he handed her into the chaise a few minutes later. ‘I do not know your story or why you were being blackmailed, though I think Jane does—but if you are in trouble and wish to confide in me I will help you if I can.’
‘You are kind, sir. I do not think anyone can help me, for it would bring shame on your family if this became open knowledge.’
He smiled at her. ‘I scarcely think you have done anything so very terrible, Duchess. It may be that a problem shared would be halved, as they say.’
‘I thank you for your kindness, but I do not wish to trouble you, sir.’
Lucinda sat primly in the chaise, hands curled in her lap as she was driven through the narrow leafy lanes of Sussex that led to Avonlea’s estate. As they crossed onto the duke’s land, her heart began to race. She knew that some of his people had seen her and saw their heads turn as they watched the chaise drive by. She felt hot all over, knowing that she had already caused so much trouble and scandal. If her secret were known, it would be terrible for everyone she cared about.
‘Believe me, nothing you could do or say would be a trouble to me, Duchess.’
‘Please…call me Lucinda,’ she whispered, her cheeks hot. ‘I think Avonlea may wish to annul the marriage very soon and I shall be Miss Seymour again.’
‘I doubt he would be such a fool,’ Lord Lanchester said and smiled at her. ‘If I am to call you Lucinda, then you must call me Andrew, as my sister and close friends do.’
Lucinda blushed and gave a little shake of her head. ‘You are so kind, sir, but I assure you, I do not deserve such consideration.’
He was bringing his horses to a halt and did not immediately reply, but as he assisted her down, his smile was warm.
‘I wish to be your friend, Lucinda. Jane loves you dearly and she is not normally wrong in her choice of friends. When you are ready to talk I shall be there for you. I am certain Avonlea will not turn you away, but if he did I would open my doors to you.’
Lucinda thanked him shyly. ‘I think I shall go in al—’ She could not finish the sentence for her husband was coming towards them. Her heart caught with pain as she saw the distress in his face and realised that he had been under a great strain. There were dark shadows beneath his eyes and she thought he had lost weight. Had she done that to him? Her heart caught with remorse. She turned to meet him. ‘Avonlea, forgive me…’
‘Lucinda, my dearest. You are safe. Thank God! I thought you lost or dead.’ Avonlea turned to Lord Lanchester. ‘You found her and brought her back to me. How can I ever thank you, my best of friend?’
‘You owe me no thanks, sir. Your duchess visited my sister and I brought her to you. She was a little anxious, but I assured her you would not scold her too much. I believe she has something important to tell you.’
‘Of course I shall not be unkind,’ Justin said and looked at Lucinda. ‘Come inside, my love. You look tired and pale. I would hear what you have to say. Lanchester, you have my thanks. I shall speak to you later.’
‘When it suits you,’ Andrew replied with a slight smile. ‘My heartfelt thanks for your safe return, Duchess. Your friends are glad of it. Please call on Jane whenever you wish.’
‘You are very kind, sir.’
Lucinda could not look at him or her husband. She walked towards the house, Justin at her side. Several servants had gathered in the hall and were looking at her curiously. The housekeeper bobbed a curtsy and asked if she could do anything.
‘You may bring some tea when we ring,’ Justin said. ‘My wife has had a long journey and she is tired. We shall have nuncheon in an hour.’
Lucinda allowed him to make the arrangements. She was thirsty and hungry, and she knew that someone she trusted was caring for her daughter. Angela would be safe until she could return to her.
‘Mama will be gone for a while,’ she’d told Angela and kissed her before she left. ‘I have to find somewhere nice for us to live, but then I shall come and fetch you.’
‘You won’t leave me?’ Angela had clung to her. ‘You won’t let them take me back?’
‘Never,’ Lucinda vowed and held her tight. ‘Mama loves you and she wants to look after you, but she cannot be with you all the time. She has to work and earn money to buy our food.’
Inside the small parlour at the back of the house, Justin shut the door firmly and then turned to look at her. His hands worked at his sides and she thought that she had never seen him display such emotion. Always when he courted her he had been the polite gentleman, teasing, flirting gently, courteous and considerate. If he had a temper, she’d not seen or felt it; even his kiss when she’d at last accepted his offer had been sweet, but passionless—which was perhaps why she had dared to say yes. Avonlea had seemed kind, but capable of expressing only warm affection; this stranger with his tight mouth and tortured eyes was someone she did not recognise.
‘What was so terrible that you could not tell me, Lucinda? I took a vow to become your husband. Whatever trouble you were in I would have helped you.’
‘Yes, I know,’ she said and gave him a little smile. ‘Afterwards, I wished I’d had the courage to tell you. I panicked, Justin. Please let me explain if I may. When I returned to my rooms after the church I discovered a letter. It was a blackmail letter and the sender demanded ten thousand pounds. He—or perhaps she—threatened to expose my secret and shame your good name. I ran away rather than allow it to happen. My first thought was for you—because I had wronged you.’
‘A blackmail letter here in your room?’ Justin looked shocked. ‘I have considered all manner of reasons why you should leave, but I must admit that was not high on my list. May I enquire as to the reason for the blackmail?’
Lucinda drew a shuddering breath. ‘I fear you will be angry and hate me.’
‘I could never hate you.’
He had not denied that he might be angry, but she must find the courage to continue. Her words came out in a rush, tumbling over each other.
‘It…happened one Christmas Eve. I was home from school and my father had friends staying. I was asleep when Father’s friend fell on me and, though I woke instantly, I could not fight him off. He had been drinking and the stench of his breath sickened me. I tried to scream, but he covered my mouth with his hand. Beneath his weight I was helpless. He was my father’s best friend, but he…he raped me and then told me that he would ruin Papa if I told anyone what he’d done.’
‘Raped you? My God!’ Justin looked as if someone had punched him hard. He recoiled and seemed stunned, turning away from her and then sitting down heavily in one of the comfortable wing chairs placed in pairs about the salon. ‘Forgive me, this is a shock. It must have been a terrible experience for you, Lucinda.’
Lucinda went to him and knelt on the floor by his side. ‘I think even that was not the worst of it, Justin. I was distressed, but could tell no one—and then, at Easter, my mother discovered that I was with child.’
Justin looked down into her face, concern in his eyes. The thought of her suffering wrenched at his heart. She was so innocent and sweet—how could any man treat her so vilely? Anger raged through him, but for the monster that had violated her. He did not doubt her word for an instant. He reached down and touched her cheek as she gazed earnestly up at him.
‘Your father covered the scandal, of course. Most fathers would do the same. What happened next?’
‘I was sent to live with Grandmama. She was very unkind to me and caned my hands whenever it pleased her. When my child was born I was told it had died…but still my father would not allow me to go home or to enter society. Only after his death was I allowed the visit to Harrogate with my aunt.’
‘Was that why you kept your distance from me at first?’
‘My father told me I was dirty, a thing of shame, and that no decent man would want me. Both he and my mother said I should never marry. I defied her to wed you—and I meant to tell you the truth that night and beg you to forgive me, but then the note arrived and—’
‘You were frightened and ran away.’
Justin stood up. He reached down, drawing her to her feet so that they looked into each other’s eyes.
‘Do you have the letter?’
Lucinda hesitated. She hated to lie to him, but if she told him the whole truth he would want to know if she had found her daughter and he would force her to give her up, because to do anything else would cause a scandal.
‘No…I am sorry, Justin. I destroyed it. I should never have married you. I know you must hate me now. I shall go away and you may have the marriage annulled. All I ask is a small sum of money so that I may live quietly until I can find some respectable work.’
She would not have asked so much if it were not for her child. Until she could find a home of her own and a nursemaid to live in, Lucinda must pay for lodgings and the care of her daughter. Surely he would allow her something?
For a moment he studied her in silence, then, ‘No, I shall not have the marriage annulled,’ Justin said, his tone suddenly harsh and cold. The sound of it sent shivers down her spine and she looked at him, startled by his change of mood. ‘I’ve had enough of gossip and of being laughed at behind my back, Lucinda. You are my wife and you will accept your duties as a wife.’
‘Justin…’ She faltered, her throat tight with emotion. Tears gathered in her eyes, but she held them back. ‘I know how angry you must feel…’
‘Do you, my dear?’ His bitter tone flayed her like a whiplash. ‘Had you trusted me enough to confide in me from the start, none of this need have happened.’
‘Forgive me. I was so anxious.’ Her voice was low, scarcely more than a whisper. ‘I did not think how it would look. Besides, if you had told everyone I had gone to my sick mother, it would not have seemed so bad.’
‘Had I found your letter at the start, I might have done so.’ He turned from her abruptly, walking to the window to gaze out. ‘If you cared for me you might have trusted me, Lucinda. I would have given you a fair hearing. Do you not think it was your duty to tell me before you accepted my proposal?’
‘Yes. I think now that I should have told you. I—I was afraid you would not wish to marry me if you knew that I had such a terrible secret.’
Justin turned to look at her, his face proud, eyebrows raised. ‘You wished to be the Duchess of Avonlea, I suppose?’
‘No…’ Lucinda hesitated, then, in a voice caught with tears, ‘I loved you, Justin. I loved you from the start. I suppose I hoped that if we were married you might forgive me.’
‘You thought I would accept you rather than face the scandal of divorce?’ His top lip curled scornfully. ‘Well, you were right in that, my dear. I have no intention of either annulling the marriage or divorcing you. I hope in time that we may begin again, have a sensible arrangement. I need heirs after all and you are my wife. I dare say we may brush over the scandal now that you have returned. I shall say that you were called to the bedside of a relative and your letter was misplaced—which is in part the truth.’
‘Justin…’ She took a step towards him, her hand outstretched. It fell to her side as she saw the anger in his handsome face. ‘Will you not believe that I care for you? Will you not try to forgive me?’
‘I shall certainly endeavour to forgive you,’ he said, but his eyes were cold, his mouth thinned with anger. ‘But you will forgive me if I do not fall at your feet and tell you that everything is as it was. You will remain my wife and I hope in time we may find a way to be comfortable together—but as for the feelings…the affection I bore you, for the moment I must be honest and tell you that I feel nothing but disappointment.’
‘Please…’ She gave a cry of distress. ‘I beg you not to hate me, Justin. I know that I have hurt you, but I was in some distress myself.’
‘I fail to understand why.’ His eyes held neither compassion nor warmth. ‘You had the advantage of me for you knew your situation. Why the letter should occasion such shock I do not know—unless you meant to conceal the truth from me forever?’
How could she explain? Justin might have understood had she been able to put her feelings into words—but the shock, the numbness, incredulity and fear she’d felt on learning of her child’s existence were too difficult to express.
‘I was asked to pay ten thousand pounds for the writer’s silence.’
‘Had you given the letter to me, I should either have paid or discovered the man’s identity and threatened him with imprisonment.’
‘You would still have hated me.’
‘I do not hate you,’ Justin said, a flicker of regret in his eyes. ‘I feel hurt, betrayed by your lack of trust, Lucinda. Had you confided in me at the beginning, I think I might have learned to accept the fact that you were raped. You were not to blame for that—or for bearing a child—but your deceit, your thoughtlessness in running away and your lack of faith in me, have given me some disquiet. I must say honestly that you are not the woman I thought you.’
His quiet words, his dignity and the hurt in his eyes struck into her heart. She was overcome with guilt, realising just how deeply her thoughtless behaviour had hurt him. Justin was angry with her now. Lucinda was not sure why she had not told him the whole truth. It would have been better to have the whole thing out, but she had hesitated and now it was too late. He would undoubtedly either return the child to the woman who had so mistreated her or have her adopted by a worthy couple.
No, she would not give her daughter up! Although it was only two weeks since she’d rescued her, Lucinda knew that she loved her too much to think of letting her be adopted, even by a kind and gentle woman.
She loved Justin, too, but he no longer cared for her. A part of her wanted to walk away, to tell him that she would not continue with a loveless marriage, but her lips were frozen and she could not speak.
‘You should go to your room and change. That gown is hardly suitable for my duchess,’ Justin said. ‘I am relieved that you are alive and unharmed, Lucinda. It will take a little time for me to come to terms with your revelation, but I hope in time that we may find a kind of contentment together.’
‘Yes, Justin. I am sorry to have caused you so much distress.’
‘I shall tell them to serve luncheon in an hour. Please do not keep us waiting.’
‘I shall not,’ Lucinda replied. Her pride was reasserting itself and with it a kind of anger. He was showing dignity and dealing with the situation in a civilised way, but she would almost rather he’d raged at her. ‘I am truly sorry for hurting you.’
He made no reply, merely inclining his head as she made him a slight curtsy and then left the room.
Lucinda knew that the servants must be agog to know where she’d been, but she carried herself with pride and dignity as she walked up to her own apartments. Alice was there and appeared to be busy tidying the place as she entered. She curtsied, looking slightly flustered.
‘Forgive me, my lady. Your room—his Grace searched it and then forbade me to touch it. I have been trying to make it respectable, but some of your things will need washing and ironing for they lay on the floor for a few days.’
‘You may help me change into a fresh gown, if there are any decent enough to wear?’
‘Yes, my lady. There is a morning gown here that is not creased.’
‘Take your time with the others,’ Lucinda said. ‘I shall not scold you if things are not just as they should be; it is not your fault.’
‘I fear the duke lost his temper, my lady.’
‘Yes, I fear he did and that was my fault. Was he very angry with you, Alice?’
‘For a time,’ the girl admitted. ‘I did not mind so very much, my lady. I am glad to see you returned.’
‘If I were to ask you to help me—to keep my request private—would you do so?’
Alice did not hesitate as she said, ‘Yes, my lady. I would do anything for you.’
‘I am not certain yet,’ Lucinda said and smiled at her. ‘Do not look so anxious, Alice. It is nothing very terrible—but I might need you to take a message for me later.’
‘Yes, my lady. You can trust me. I swear it on my life.’
Lucinda hid a smile. Her maid probably thought she had a lover. If she decided to trust her, she would soon learn the truth, but for the moment she must be cautious.
Lucinda was determined not to give her daughter up. She thought that rather than accept that Angela should be adopted, she would leave Justin and find a way to live independently. However, what little money she had was almost gone and she was not certain how she could earn her living.
No respectable lady would take her either as a governess or as a companion. Even if she did find work in a respectable household, the discovery that she had an illegitimate daughter would lead to instant dismissal without a reference. All that left was work as a seamstress or hard manual labour in a mill or on the land; even work as a servant would be denied her in most respectable houses.
Justin did not wish for more scandal and for that reason he had decided they would stay together and try to find a way to live comfortably. She supposed that when his anger or disappointment had eased a little, he might still find her attractive.
The thought of what she had done was almost unbearable. Justin had looked at her with such admiration and gentle warmth when he courted her, showing such patience and kindness to a shy young woman—and now his eyes were cold and unforgiving. She did not know how to bear his coldness, but the thought of never seeing him again was equally as painful.
She held back the foolish tears. What had she expected? She ought to have known that her husband would not accept her wayward behaviour as if it meant nothing. He’d believed her modest and innocent and must think her a cheat for having hidden her shameful past.
At least she had a roof over her head and the generous allowance Avonlea had given her in the marriage contract would be hers to use as she wished. She could use some of it to pay for Angela to be properly cared for nearby. It was not what she wanted, but what was her alternative? She knew she would find it difficult, if not impossible, to bring up her daughter in the way she wished alone. Perhaps it was best this way—and yet at the back of her mind she feared Justin’s disgust and anger when he discovered her deceit.
She had hurt her husband too much already and she did love him deeply, whatever he might believe. If she left him again, it would convince him that she had never loved him and he would surely divorce her. Perhaps if she stayed he might learn to forgive her—and if he did, one day, she would tell him the rest of her story. It might make him angry again, but perhaps he would understand that the pain of discovering that her child had been stolen from her had made her forget everything else for a time.
Oh, it was all such a coil! Lucinda wished that she could return to the day Avonlea had asked her to wed him. Had she told him then he might have withdrawn his offer, but he might have accepted the truth and forgiven her—yet even had he done so, he would never have accepted her child.
She had no choice but to keep the child’s existence a secret from him.
Justin went for a long hard ride after luncheon. Lucinda had looked so serene and beautiful when she came down to the dining room. He had felt a rush of desire at seeing her in one of the beautiful gowns he had purchased for her use. She was his wife, the woman he had chosen, and her revelations had left him feeling bruised and bewildered.
She was not the shy innocent girl he had thought her. Justin had believed her reticence in Harrogate had sprung from modesty and a natural desire to know him better. Now he wondered if he had been deceived in her character. Could he believe her story of rape? She had not told him before the wedding that she’d born an illegitimate child, nor had she given him any reason to believe that she was not the pure untouched woman he thought her. For a brief moment he doubted, but then dismissed the thought as unworthy. Lucinda had not been honest with him at the start, but he would not think less of her for what that evil man had done to her. The hurt in her eyes as she told her story was proof of her innocence, though she ought to have told him before they were wed.
Yet she ought never to have been faced with such a dilemma. No young girl should be subjected to such wickedness.
He thought that if he knew the man’s identity he would break the rogue’s neck. Fierce emotions raged through him as he considered taking revenge for the hurt inflicted on a vulnerable girl of sixteen. Justin would thrash the devil to within an inch of his life. Indeed, he would gladly see the man dead.
He wished that she’d kept the blackmail letter. He might have been able to get to the bottom of this business, but, as things stood, it would be like looking for a needle in a haystack. Who had sent such a letter on their wedding day? How had that person discovered the secret that Lucinda’s father had so carefully hushed up?
Of course these things were never a complete secret. Someone knew the child had been born. There must surely have been a doctor or a midwife at the birth—or perhaps a servant in Lucinda’s grandmother’s house. It would be there he should begin his search if he intended to make enquiries.
Did he wish to discover more? Justin frowned. It was after all his wife’s secret, but if she were being blackmailed, he had a duty to protect her—and not just for the sake of his good name. Even if she paid the fellow—or woman—to keep quiet, they would come back for more. It was the nature of such creatures.
There was only one way to deal with blackmail and that was to meet threat with threat. He would make whomever had done this thing shiver in their boots and, if they continued with their evil purpose, he would see them punished.
The agents who had searched for Lucinda were discreet. He was certain he could trust them to discover the whereabouts of Lucinda’s grandmother—or, if she were no longer living, her servants. No need to disclose his wife’s secret. He would question the servants and then, if they answered openly, any doctor or midwife who had presided over the birth of Lucinda’s child.
She had told him the child had died—but was that certain? Justin frowned as he thought about the probable scenario. Mr Seymour would not have permitted his daughter to keep the child. It was possible that he might have ordered that she be told the babe was dead while in truth he’d had it adopted.
The net widened, for anyone involved in the handling of that secret adoption might have decided to use blackmail when they heard of Lucinda’s wedding plans. It was clear that it was her marriage to a wealthy man that had brought the toad crawling out from under its stone. Someone had seen an opportunity because she was to be the wife of an important man.
Justin felt angry that his wife had been subjected to such a foul blackmail on her wedding day. It had been meant to be a joyous occasion and had ended in distress for them both.
He felt a pang of regret when he recalled his own harshness towards her. He had felt such jealousy, such disappointment and pain when he learned that she was not the shy virgin he’d thought her that he’d lashed out. He’d promised he would not be unkind to her and he’d broken his word. He was uncertain why he had acted in such an uncharacteristic manner. At the start he had believed he could accept what she’d told him; after all, it had happened before they met—but then emotions he had not recognised welled up in him and his anger erupted. Why? Yes, she had deceived him, but he felt it was more her uncertainty that made her hold back rather than deliberate malice. At one time he’d briefly considered marrying a widow and the loss of the lady’s maidenhead to her first husband had not disturbed him one whit—why then should he feel such rage because Lucinda was not a virgin?
Why should he be jealous? It had not been meant to be a love match. He’d chosen her because she did not throw herself at him every time he so much as looked at her, as almost every other lady he’d met did constantly. It was her smile, her quiet charm and her sweetness that had made him notice her. She had not changed. It was Justin who felt differently, though at this moment he could not explain the conflicting emotions that raged within him or their cause.
Justin knew that he was in the wrong, but for the moment he could not quite forgive her for not confiding in him sooner. The look in her eyes had wrenched at his heart. She’d seemed to beg for something—something he had not been able to give. His own lack disturbed him, adding to his feeling of rage and he’d lashed out without thinking. In time his hurt would ease and he hoped that they might still have enough respect for each other to make a go of their marriage, but for the moment he needed to be alone.
He would tell Lucinda that evening. There was some business in London that needed his attention. It meant that he would be away for perhaps ten days. When he returned he hoped that he would have come to terms with his disappointment and they might begin again. It must be better for both of them to go on with the marriage than suffer a painful divorce. He would recover from the scandal, but she would be ruined. He could not do that to her. It would be cruel and unfair.
Relieved to have settled the matter in his mind, he returned home. The servants must not suspect anything, for there had been enough scandal. He would take tea with Lucinda in the small salon just as if nothing had ever come between them. If he suspected that he had not been quite truthful with himself in his motives for his decision, he was not yet ready to face the possibility that he might care more deeply for his lovely wife than he’d thought possible.
Romantic love was a myth. To give one’s heart without reserve was to invite pain. Affection was sufficient and once he had recovered from this absurd attack of jealous rage, he would resort to being the considerate husband he’d always intended to be.
That night, Lucinda sat in front of her dressing mirror brushing her hair when Justin knocked and asked if he might enter. She gave permission and he came in, looking at her oddly as she stood and turned to face him. Something in his expression spoke of hunger and a need to take her in his arms and for a moment she hoped that he intended to make up their quarrel, but his next words chilled her.
‘Forgive me, I did not intend to disturb you, Lucinda. I said nothing downstairs for I would not have the servants hear me. I must go to London tomorrow on business. You will give me your word to remain here and do nothing to cause more scandal.’
His harsh words hurt her. ‘Why should I cause more scandal? Can you not accept that I am sorry for harming you?’
‘Perhaps. I was merely making myself clear. I need a little space to come to terms with what you told me earlier. I should be no longer than ten days—perhaps less. When I return we shall take time to know each other properly. I think perhaps we wed in haste. We know very little about one another’s lives.’
‘I told you that when you asked me to wed you, Justin.’
‘I believed I knew you,’ he said and a tiny nerve flicked at his temple. ‘Now I know that I was wrong. I think we must both work at this, Lucinda. I did not mean to be so harsh earlier. Had I not cared for you, it would not have been such a shock to learn that you were not what I thought you.’
‘Yes, I understand you must feel disgust and anger,’ she said, but kept her head high. ‘I have apologised for not telling you—but I am as I was. I did nothing to encourage that man’s attack, I promise you.’
‘You will give me his name?’
‘What do you intend to do?’ She was startled, her eyes on his face.
‘He may well be your blackmailer—had you not thought of him?’
‘No,’ Lucinda whispered, putting a hand to her throat. ‘I have not thought about who wrote the note.’
‘You have not wondered?’ Justin looked puzzled. ‘Surely you must realise that whomever it was will most likely try again. Next time I insist that you bring the letter to me.’
‘Yes,’ she said, not daring to meet his eyes. ‘But it was not signed.’
‘No, it would not be—but sometimes there is a clue. Was it well written or badly formed?’
‘Oh, I had not thought…well written, I think. Yes, the letters were clear and there were no spelling or grammar mistakes.’
‘Then it makes it more likely that it was either your father’s friend himself—or perhaps the doctor who assisted at the birth. Who else would know your secret, Lucinda?’
‘Grandmama, my parents and the doctor—also my grandmother’s servants. They knew what had happened, I am sure.’
‘Yes, they must, but most servants could not write a letter of that quality. I think it narrows the options a little.’
‘Unless…Grandmama had friends. She may have told someone in confidence.’ Lucinda raised her eyes to his. ‘Why is it important?’
‘Because I must be ready in case whomever it is tries again. You will not pay, Lucinda. You will have nothing to do with this person, whomever it may be. I shall deal with the problem, do you hear me?’
‘Yes, of course.’
‘Very well. We shall not speak of this again unless we must.’ He moved towards her. For a moment she thought he meant to touch her or kiss her, but instead he picked up a perfume bottle from the dressing table and held it to his nose. ‘This is such a haunting scent. I kept smelling it when you were away and it brought you closer. I am glad to have you back, Lucinda.’
She swallowed hard. ‘Thank you for accepting me.’
‘You are my wife. What else should I do?’
The expression in his eyes caused Lucinda’s heart to race. For a moment she thought he would take her into his arms and kiss her. Had he done so she would have clung to him, returned his kisses and then confessed her secret, but the look faded. He inclined his head to her, then turned and walked away without touching her or speaking further.
Lucinda stared at the door for some moments after he closed it behind him. She almost wished that he had raged at her. His quiet, controlled anger was hard to bear. She could not blame him, because she’d brought it on herself, but it still hurt. Justin had been so courteous towards her, so careful and caring of her feelings and her comfort. Where had that charming, gentle, teasing gentleman gone? Would she ever see him again—or had her thoughtless deceit destroyed him?
Sitting on the edge of the bed, she discovered that she could no longer hold back her tears. They trickled unheeded down her cheeks for some minutes, then she wiped them away. She would not waste time feeling sorry for herself.
She must think about the future. If she was to keep her daughter and hide the secret from Justin, it would mean taking Alice into her confidence. Her maid was honest and would help her by taking messages to her daughter and making excuses for her absence when she went to visit the child.
It was not an ideal arrangement keeping Angela in the old cottage at the edge of the estate, but it was all she could do for the moment. She had been so lucky to find that Nanny was still alive and living a precarious existence since her dismissal from Mrs Seymour’s employ.
‘She is a little love, but too thin,’ Nanny said as Lucinda explained the circumstances. ‘Yes, of course I will look after your daughter for you, my love. I never agreed with the way your father treated you—and to tell you she was dead, that was wicked. Had I been in a position to help you before this I should have done so, but I was dismissed instantly for having a bad influence on you.’
‘That was unfair.’
‘Well, it is past and the child is the important one now.’ Nanny smiled and touched her head, but Angela sniffled and looked apprehensive, as though she feared she would be smacked or bullied.
‘She has been ill-treated, so you must not scold her too much. I know her speech is bad, but correct her kindly, Nanny. She will learn by example.’
‘Yes, of course she will. I never smacked you, Lucinda, and I shall not smack this little darling—but she must start to learn her manners for she is your daughter.’
‘For the moment I cannot acknowledge her. My husband would not allow it.’
Nanny looked at her sadly. ‘You should tell your husband the truth, Lucinda. He couldn’t let you acknowledge her, of course, but if he is a good man he will allow you to see her—and he’ll find a decent place for us to live.’
‘I hope in time to confide in him, but for now it must be our secret.’
‘Very well.’
Nanny had agreed reluctantly. Lucinda knew she would care for the child as if she were her own, but she did not approve.
Alice might not approve, either—but for the moment Lucinda had no choice.
Perhaps after Justin’s return, if they became friends again, she could tell him. He might not let her have the child with her, but he might allow her to have Angela near her and visit sometimes.
Retiring to her bed, Lucinda lay restless, her mind in turmoil. If Justin discovered that she had lied to him again, he would hate her.
Justin lay sleepless. He had brought the decanter of brandy to his room, hoping that a glass or two of his favourite tipple would dull the edge of his need, but at the moment it did not seem to have worked. The desire to touch and kiss his wife was burning through him, making him groan. Had he been less proud, more sure of his own feelings and hers, he would have gone to her, taken her in his arms and begged her to forgive him. Being close to her that evening had made him aware just how lovely she was—and how much he burned to make her his wife in truth. He was a fool to let himself be hurt. Why not simply make this quarrel up with her and forget everything in her arms—bury himself in her perfumed flesh?
No, that was foolish. His father would have called him a weakling for considering such an action. Justin had been strictly reared to understand the position he held as head of one of the leading families in England. Indeed, the first duke was rumoured to be one of Charles I’s by-blows, borne of a titled lady who had kept her secret even from the king until later in life when she made a request for her son and was granted the title on his behalf. His father’s words ran through his mind.
‘Remember what you owe yourself and the family, Justin. Feeling must always be denied for, if once set free, it will ruin any man. You are of noble blood and must never forget your duty. Our family has upheld the true virtues of honour and decency for centuries. Do not be the one to break that slender thread.’
His father would say it was his duty to annul the marriage at once, to send Lucinda away in disgrace and marry a girl of impeccable reputation.
No, he could not do that. Justin was angry and hurt, but beneath the pain and the rage he knew that he still wanted his beautiful wife. He still cared what became of her. To abandon her to the gossips would be cruel and senseless. Deep within him the need to protect her from hurt had asserted itself. He must not let what had happened ruin both their lives.
Somehow he must come to terms with the situation and the only way to do that was to put a little distance between them for a while. If he stayed here, he would not be able to keep from her bed.
Chapter Three (#ulink_3cf7871a-254a-5046-b9dc-317de24740f8)
Lucinda set out early the next morning, just after she’d seen Justin drive away in his curricle. It was cool and she was wearing a warm cloak to cover her gown, which was one of her plainer ones. She had saved some of the sweet biscuits and a soft white roll that had been sent up for her breakfast. Her daughter enjoyed sweet trifles, perhaps the more so because she had never tasted a cake until recently. Nanny said she ought not to have too many, but Lucinda felt a deep hurtful guilt because of the way her daughter had been mistreated and she wanted to spoil her.
She wished with all her heart that she might have the child living with her at the house and acknowledge her openly, if not as her own child, as a child of a relative sadly deceased. However, she knew that it was impossible. The fact that she must deceive Justin added to her grief, but for the moment there was no other way. Perhaps in time he might learn to trust her and then she might confess her secret, but even an indulgent husband would not allow her to have the child with her permanently. The likeness between them was marked and someone might guess her secret.
As she approached the small cottage she had rented for her child and Nanny, Angela saw her from the window and came out, running to meet her. Lucinda opened her arms, sweeping her up and hugging her tightly as she burst into tears.
‘I thought yer would never come back,’ Angela said and looked at her with reproach. ‘You promised to take care of me.’
‘And I shall,’ Lucinda promised and kissed her cheek. She smelled of soap and her skin shone. Wearing the pretty dress Lucinda had purchased for her before they came here, she looked beautiful, her stick-thin body beginning to show signs of the good food she was now eating every day. ‘I promise you that no one will hurt you again, my darling. Nanny is good to you, isn’t she?’
‘Yes…but I want to be with yer…you,’ Angela corrected herself and then sucked her thumb, her eyes wide and expectant.
Lucinda pulled the thumb from her mouth and smiled. ‘You will spoil your pretty hands if you do that, dearest. Mama has to work to provide a home for you and Nanny. I shall come to you whenever I can, my darling, but you must be good for me and do as Nanny tells you.’
‘She is no trouble at all,’ Nanny said as Lucinda looked at her enquiringly. ‘Did you notice that her speech is improving already?’
‘Yes, with a few slips,’ Lucinda said and kissed her child before setting her down. Angela went off to play with some brightly coloured bricks that Nanny had given her, a relic from her mother’s childhood. ‘She will learn by our example, Nanny. I am sorry I could not return last night, but I was afraid to leave the house too late in case it was noticed.’
‘You have not told him about the child.’ Nanny shook her head in disapproval. ‘I fear you’re laying up trouble for yourself, Lucinda. When he knows you’ve deceived him he will be angry.’
‘I do not wish to hurt my husband,’ Lucinda said. ‘He was angry with me when I told him why I left that day, though he insists that our marriage must continue.’
‘What do you want?’
‘I…love him,’ Lucinda confessed, her voice breaking. ‘At least, I love the man he was when we married. He seems so harsh now, but I know that is my fault for hurting him. Nanny, it is so hard, so very hard. I love them both. How can I choose one or the other?’
‘Perhaps it would not be necessary if you told him the truth?’
‘He would not accept her—how could I expect it?’ Lucinda asked, blinking back the tears that threatened. ‘It would break my heart to leave him and yet I must see her every day—I must!’
‘Well, there is nothing to prevent you while I am able to care for her—but that may not be forever. I am nearly sixty and she will need a home until she is old enough to care for herself.’
‘In time I shall try to make other arrangements, but for now I must leave her in your care.’
‘And you may do so safely,’ Nanny promised. ‘I love her as if she were my own, just as I loved you.’
‘Yes, I know, that is why I came to you.’
‘Where is your husband now?’
‘He went to London on business. I think he hopes that a little time apart will be healing for us both. The revelation I made was a terrible shock for him.’
‘How much worse might it be if he learned that you had a child—that you had lied to him? You must be careful when you come here,’ Nanny said and looked doubtful. ‘But we shall say no more. Play with the child while you have the chance. In time she will get used to your coming and going.’
‘Yes, of course. She must. Even if she lived with me I should only be able to see her a few times a day.’
‘Children belong in the nursery until they are older. It is the way of things amongst your class, Lucinda. It is just that at the moment she is fearful that she will be taken back to that dreadful woman,’ Nanny said. ‘That will not happen while I have breath in my body. If I had my way, that woman would be thrown into prison and left there to rot—and others like her who exploit children.’
‘How fierce you are, dearest Nanny,’ Lucinda said and laughed softly. ‘I see that I do not need to worry for Angela while she has you.’
Lucinda was conscious of the housekeeper’s curious looks as she returned to the house later that day. Clearly the woman thought it strange that she had been gone for such a long time.
‘I should like some tea,’ she said. ‘It was such a lovely day that I walked farther than I knew. I will take tea in the small parlour at the back of the house, please.’
‘Yes, your Grace.’
‘Please, Mrs Mann, I would rather you called me “ma’am” or “my lady.” I am not used to such a grand title.’
‘As you wish, ma’am. I shall bring your tea at once.’ The housekeeper started to walk away, then stopped and looked back. ‘Miss Lanchester called earlier. I told her you had gone for a walk.’
‘Oh, how unfortunate,’ Lucinda said. ‘I should have liked to see her.’
‘Miss Lanchester asked if you would take tea with her this afternoon?’
‘Yes, I think I shall. I shall change my gown and you may have the carriage sent round. Please do not bother with the tea. I shall wait and take a dish with my friend.’
‘But you must be famished, ma’am. You’ve had nothing since breakfast.’
‘Oh…I took one of my breakfast rolls with me. I like to go for long walks and seldom need much in the middle of the day. You may tell Cook to give me an extra roll and biscuits in the morning—or a croissant or two. Also fruit, if we have apples or soft fruits that I may carry with me to nibble as I walk.’
‘Yes, my lady. If it is your wish.’
Clearly Mrs Mann thought it a very odd request. Ladies in Lucinda’s position did not spend hours walking about the countryside alone and they certainly did not eat in public.
Amused by the housekeeper’s ill-hidden disapproval, Lucinda went up to change for the afternoon. Angela had cried and clung to her when she left her and that had made Lucinda reluctant to leave, but Nanny told her the tears would stop as soon as she had gone.
‘Children often cry when their mothers leave them, but they soon get used to it. Angela will settle to a routine. I shall begin easy lessons soon and, as she begins to want to learn, she will not miss you so much.’
Lucinda accepted her word. Nanny had had a great deal of experience of such things. Besides, Lucinda could not spend all her time with her daughter.
Nanny had brought some books and toys with her, but she would need more as Angela grew. There must be a nursery here at Avonlea House, but as yet Lucinda had not visited it. She made up her mind that she would ask Mrs Mann about it that evening and then she would see what she could find that might be useful. All nurseries had old books and toys pushed away into cupboards; they would not be missed and she could take them to her daughter.
Feeling much better about her situation, Lucinda hurried to change into a fresh gown. She did not think she would disclose her secret to Jane just yet, though she might have done so the previous day if Jane’s brother had not arrived at the wrong moment.
Her thoughts turned to Justin and she wondered what the business was that had taken him to London. Was it important—or simply an excuse to put some distance between them?
The meeting with his lawyer took longer than expected. It was late in the afternoon when Justin left his office and began to walk towards his club. He was feeling thoughtful, reflecting on the scene with Lucinda the night before he left her. She’d looked so beautiful when he went into her bedchamber and the scent of her had made him weak with longing. He’d known a fierce desire to sweep her into his arms and make love to her. It was merely his foolish pride that had kept him from making up their quarrel instantly.
A quarrel of his making! Lucinda had not quarrelled at all. It was he that had driven a rift between them with his foolish pride. Now that he’d had leisure to reflect, he knew that she’d been placed in an intolerable position and he was angry, not with her, but himself for not being more understanding, and with all the people who had hurt her.
He understood her father’s anger when her condition became known, but if she had been raped Mr Seymour’s anger ought to have been directed at the man who had taken such foul advantage of her.
The past three days had given Justin time to come to terms with the shock and to reason things out in his mind. Lucinda had not set her cap at Justin. Indeed, she had given him no encouragement at the start, as if she felt herself unworthy or unfit for marriage. His persistence had brought her to a change of heart. While she ought to have told him the truth, he could understand her fear—especially if her heart was touched.
If she loved him, as she professed, she would have feared his rejection. Yet she ought to have known that he cared for her and would listen to her story with sympathy.
It was not her secret that had hurt him so much as her lack of trust, Justin thought. However, she had told him the truth now and he must respect her for that because…he did not wish to lose her. He was not certain why he disliked the idea of an annulment; it was not fear of scandal, though he would be loath to sully his family’s good name. No, it was more—an odd feeling that his life would become an empty wasteland if Lucinda were no longer in it. During the time she was missing he’d never allowed himself to consider his own feelings, but he’d never given up hope that she would be found.
To throw away all the good that could come from his marriage because his wife had been the victim of an evil man would be ridiculous.
He had a few more people he must speak to in town and then he would return to Avonlea. Justin could only hope that his show of temper had not alienated Lucinda altogether. He would try to save their marriage, because he did not wish for a final parting. Meanwhile, he would buy her a pretty trinket to show her that he was sorry for his show of temper.
Lucinda looked around the nursery. It was a large pleasant room that had a sunny aspect and would be warm even in winter. She thought how pleasant it would be if Nanny and Angela could live here. The cottage was well enough for the moment, but as her daughter grew she would begin to wonder why she was forced to live in a cottage while her mother lived in the big house through the woods.
Sighing, Lucinda opened the cupboard door. She had discovered a hoard of treasure in the form of books and small toys. So far she had taken a doll with a wax head, which might have been used by a dressmaker to show off her latest designs, a carved wooden horse and two picture books.
She was reaching for an abacus when a noise behind her made her aware that someone was there. She turned with a little start, feeling absurdly guilty.
‘You startled me, Mrs Mann. Did you wish to speak with me?’
‘Will you be out this morning, ma’am? Cook wondered what to do about luncheon.’
‘Oh, yes, I shall,’ Lucinda said. ‘I was just admiring the nursery. I think my husband and his siblings were fortunate children to have such a pleasant room.’
‘Yes, it is nice,’ Mrs Mann said. ‘Were you thinking of having it refurbished? I know the last lady of the house thought that Nanny’s room needed some attention.’
‘Yes, perhaps I shall,’ Lucinda said. ‘I shall speak to his Grace about it. Thank you, you may go now.’
‘I was wondering about some of the rooms in the west wing, my lady. When you have time you might wish to take a look—especially at the attics. In the old days the servants had rooms there, but they were moved to the east wing because the rooms needed repairs. His Grace’s father spoke of having them improved, but it did not happen. Some of the maids are sharing and it would be better if we could use those rooms again.’
‘Yes, I understand,’ Lucinda said. ‘I shall look at the rooms this afternoon when I return—if that suits you?’
‘Yes, ma’am, whenever you wish.’
Lucinda waited until the housekeeper left and then reached back into the cupboard. She took out the abacus. It would help Nanny teach Angela her numbers and was only wasted here. No one used these apartments and would not until…The thought of having Justin’s child brought a smile to her face. If that were to happen, she would be very happy—yet deep inside her there was pain because Angela would be shut out of this family. Even if Lucinda made time to visit her once a day—and when Justin returned that might be more difficult—she would always be on the outside, never taking her proper place in her mother’s life.
Tears stung Lucinda’s eyes as she hid the abacus under her cloak and went downstairs. Giving her daughter sweetmeats and toys was a poor substitute for a proper home and the security she truly needed. It was useless to repine! The child would be waiting. She must hurry or Angela might have a tantrum. She did have a temper; though Nanny did her best to calm her, she was not as young as she’d once been and the child played her up at times.
‘I thought she was just being naughty at first,’ Nanny said as they stood by the child’s bed and looked at her flushed face. ‘She cried for you most of last night and this morning she threw her milk at me—but then she became hot and I realised she was not feeling well.’
‘Do you think she has a tummy upset?’
‘Perhaps. She ate her supper last night, but this morning did not touch her boiled egg. I thought perhaps we should have the doctor—what do you think?’
Lucinda laid a hand on the child’s brow. ‘I think she has a fever. I shall walk into the village and ask the doctor to call. I shall tell him the child belongs to my cousin and that she died. You are her nanny—that much at least is true.’
‘More lies, Lucinda?’
‘What else can I do?’ Lucinda asked. ‘I brought some things for her—but she is too ill to want them now. I shall go and fetch the doctor straight away.’
Leaving the cottage, Lucinda walked very fast down the narrow lane that led to the village. The doctor’s house was at the edge of the green. She went up the path and knocked loudly. A smiling apple-cheeked housekeeper answered the door within a few seconds.
‘What is your business, mistress…your Grace?’ The woman looked startled and dipped a hasty curtsy. ‘Forgive me. I did not realise… Please come in, my lady.’
‘Is your master at home?’
‘Yes, my lady.’
‘I would see him at once.’
‘Had you sent for him, he would have attended you, my lady.’
‘No matter, I am here and my business is urgent. Please take me to your master now.’
‘Yes, of course. Please come this way, my lady.’
Lucinda followed, her heart thudding. She must be very careful in her deportment. Concern for the child of a cousin was acceptable, but she must do nothing to make him suspect that she was Angela’s mother and not merely her second cousin.
Lucinda was late returning to Avonlea that afternoon. The doctor had taken his time examining Angela and then questioned her severely about the child’s nutrition. She had explained that her cousin had fallen on hard times and that she had known nothing of their poverty until her cousin became ill and subsequently died.
‘I was called away unexpectedly to her deathbed,’ she lied. ‘I had some trouble in sorting out her affairs after the funeral and in finding a good woman to look after her child, who still cries for her mother.’
As Angela had woken and clung to her, weeping and crying, the doctor had seemed to accept her story. He said that her sickness was merely a tummy upset and suggested that perhaps her diet was too rich.
‘If she has not eaten well for a long time, too much food may have upset her digestion. You should give her plainer fare and introduce meat and puddings slowly.’
‘It may be my fault for giving her sweet biscuits and cakes. I wanted to spoil her,’ Lucinda said. ‘We shall follow your advice, Doctor.’
‘She does have a little chill, which may have made her feverish,’ the doctor said. ‘I shall give you a mixture for her—if you can spare the time to return with me to fetch it?’
‘Yes, of course.’
Lucinda knew that another journey would make her late for her appointment with Mrs Mann, but she had no choice. The look the housekeeper gave her was one of reproach, but she apologised, saying that she had forgot the time.
‘Well, I’m sure your Grace may do as you please. However, the matter of the rooms in the west wing is something that you ought to attend, ma’am. It is more usually for the mistress of the house to make a decision on the servants’ welfare.’
‘Yes, of course. It may seem to you that I have neglected my duties.’
‘It is not for me to tell you what to do, my lady.’
‘No, but perhaps I should have consulted with you on menus and things? I prefer to wait until the duke returns so that I may be certain of his preferences.’
‘Yes, of course, ma’am. Do you know when his Grace intends to return?’
‘In a few days,’ Lucinda said airily. ‘He has business and will be back when he is ready.’
‘Yes, ma’am, as you say.’
‘Very well, please take me to these attic rooms—and anywhere else that concerns you.’
‘His lordship has had much of the house done, my lady, but the attics seem to have escaped his notice.’
‘I dare say he was not aware that the maids are overcrowded in the east wing.’
Lucinda followed the housekeeper up a narrow staircase, which was conveniently hidden behind a door, concealing it from the casual eye. As the west wing was kept for guests they would not notice the door leading to the attics, but it was usual for the servants to come and go by way of a back staircase. It made it easier for them to service the guests’ rooms and reach their own without intruding.
Looking round the various attic rooms, Lucinda saw what Mrs Mann meant about their needing refurbishment. In some places the ceilings had crumbled and it looked as if the plaster might fall, though two of the rooms needed only some decoration.
‘I think it may be necessary to have a repair to the roof here,’ Lucinda said, gazing up at the source of the problem, which was a patch of damp. ‘Clearly that is what caused the leak in three rooms.’
‘The roof was repaired last year,’ Mrs Mann told her. ‘It is just the ceilings—and a coat of whitewash, and then some rugs on the floor.’
‘Yes, I see. Well, I shall speak to my husband when he returns. I am not certain that it is within my power to order repairs of that nature, Mrs Mann. Be patient for a while and I shall see what may be done.’
‘Yes, ma’am. If you are satisfied with things as they are.’
A little sniff accompanied her words. Lucinda knew that the housekeeper was less than satisfied with her response to the problem, but an idea had occurred to her—an idea that was daring and outrageous, but which could make her life much easier.
‘I shall attend to the matter,’ she said. ‘Surely the maids can manage for a little longer?’
‘Yes, ma’am, if they have to—but in the summer these rooms can be very hot, especially if there are too many sharing.’
Lucinda felt a little guilty as she returned to her own room and began to change for the evening. Jane and Andrew Lanchester were coming for dinner that evening and they were bringing some guests, people with whom Lucinda was slightly acquainted, which should make it a pleasant evening for all.
She would visit her daughter again in the morning and see how she was faring, but in the meantime she would consider her plan to bring both Nanny and Angela into the house.
Justin had decided to leave town that afternoon. He would be home sooner than he’d planned, but he had set his business in hand and found himself restless, unable to settle. His anger had cooled somewhat, but the hurt was as sharp as ever. Yet he wanted to see Lucinda, to see her smile and hear her voice. Most of all he wanted to lie with her in the beautiful bedchamber he had lavished so much time and money on in preparation for their wedding.
He frowned as he wondered how best to proceed with repairing the rift between them. While he was eager for their marriage to be a true one, he was uncertain of Lucinda’s feelings. She had consented to be married after some initial reluctance—was her reluctance merely because she’d feared to tell him her secret or might she have another deeper reason for her hesitation? Did she fear her husband’s attentions in the bedroom? She had never shown any reluctance when he kissed her—but there was more than kissing to being a true wife.
Clearly, she had been ready to accept her duties as a wife or she would not have wed him, but Justin did not wish for a complacent wife. He had expected that his bride would be innocent and had planned to be gentle and patient on their wedding night—but the knowledge that she had been raped put a new light on the situation. Much as he desired her, he might have to put his own desires to one side for the time being. He would need to be very gentle with Lucinda if he wanted her to respond. Indeed, he might have to wait some time before he took her to bed.
Before he made love to his wife he must regain her trust. Otherwise, he might destroy her and his hopes of a good marriage.
Having made up his mind to leave for Avonlea that very afternoon, he summoned his valet, intending to ask that his bags be packed in readiness. However, when the man came in answer to the bell he was bearing a letter from Justin’s lawyer. Breaking the seal, he frowned. It was a matter of business that had arisen from his fresh instructions concerning his will and he was requested to attend the lawyer’s office at his earliest convenience, which meant that his departure might have to be delayed by at least one more day.
The delay was annoying, but the business could not wait. Sighing, Justin took up his hat and silver-topped walking stick and left the house. The sooner this business was finished the sooner he could go home to Lucinda.
‘The doctor’s mixture did her the world of good,’ Nanny said when Lucinda visited soon after breakfast the next morning. ‘She had honey and rolls and she’s nearly back to normal. It was just a little chill after all.’
‘Is she still in bed?’
‘I left her sitting with her books, but I heard something just before you came in and she may have decided to get up and play.’
Lucinda went upstairs. Her daughter had dressed herself, her gown only half-buttoned at the back, and her tangled curls evidence that Angela had not considered it necessary to use the brush. When she saw her mother her eyes welled with tears, which spilled over and ran down her cheeks.
‘My poor love, come here to me,’ Lucinda said and sat down on the bed, drawing her on to her lap. She kissed and cuddled her, then buttoned her bodice properly and took up a hairbrush. Angela’s hair soon looked respectable and shone. Lucinda noticed that her arms were much better now and her legs had stopped looking like sticks. She was beginning to recover from years of ill treatment, but of course the mental scars were still there. ‘Shall we go for a little walk in the woods?’
Angela shook her head. ‘Will you read to me from my books?’
‘Yes, if you wish it. Come downstairs and we shall sit in the big chair by the fire and read a story.’
Angela scrambled to her feet, seized the book she wanted and proceeded down the stairs. Lucinda smiled inwardly, because it was clear to her that her daughter was feeling much better.
The next hour or so was very happy for them both, but the tears started once more when Lucinda told her that she must leave. Angela screamed and clung to her. She calmed a little when Nanny pulled her away and told her she must be good, but the sight of her child’s reproachful face pulled at Lucinda’s heartstrings as she left the cottage and began to walk back to the house.
The tears trickled down her cheeks as she thought of her daughter’s distress. In the future she might not always be able to visit her every day and the child would not understand that her mother had another life—a life she could not share with her.
Lucinda was starting to shake with sobs as she saw the fallen tree lying just ahead of her in a small clearing. She sat down, her head bowed as the tears fell thick and fast.
A part of her longed for Justin’s return from town. She wanted desperately to see him, to be a true wife to him with no secrets between them—but she could not give up her beloved child. There was no way out of her predicament. If she confessed to her husband, he would be angry again—and he would force her to give Angela up.
‘Duchess—Lucinda?’
The man’s deep voice startled her. She raised her head, and saw Andrew standing just a few feet from where she sat. Feeling guilty, she rose to her feet and brushed a hand over her face.
‘Lord Lanchester…I did not hear you come.’
‘Are you unwell?’ He moved closer, looking at her with concern. ‘You have been crying. Is there something I may do to help you?’
‘No, it is nothing. Nothing at all,’ Lucinda said and lifted her head proudly. ‘It was a silly tantrum, that is all.’
‘I do not think you are the kind of woman who has tantrums,’ he said and handed her a large white kerchief. ‘You may be pleased to know that he has returned this very morning.’
‘My husband has returned?’ Lucinda’s heart missed a beat. She caught her breath. ‘You have seen him?’
‘I saw him driving his curricle on his way here.’ He hesitated. ‘You are in some trouble, I think. For the moment you may prefer to keep your own counsel—but should you need a friend, I am here.’
The warmth and sincerity in his voice brought a flush to her cheeks. She gave him a small shy smile—the smile that unbeknown to her had won more than one man’s heart.
‘You are very kind, my lord.’
‘Tell me, are you in some difficulty?’
‘If I am in some trouble, I fear there is nothing you can help me with. My problem is one I must solve alone.’
‘There are very few problems that will not be made easier by sharing them,’ he said and smiled. ‘I shall not push my friendship on you, Lucinda—but please know that if you need either my sister or myself we are always there for you.’
‘Thank you. I know you are sincere, sir.’ She raised her head. ‘I must go home. My husband will wonder where I am.’
‘You like to walk, I believe?’
‘Yes, I walk most mornings if it is fine.’
‘I shall not keep you.’
Lucinda watched as he walked away from her, farther into the woods that formed a boundary between the two estates. She had thought of them as being Avonlea property, but in actual fact they were right on the edge of her husband’s estate and it was natural that Lord Lanchester might choose to walk this way home if he had been to the village.
Had he seen her walking here before? Had he perhaps seen her enter the cottage? She was not sure who owned the cottage for she had rented it through an agent. It might even belong to Lord Lanchester.
Supposing Lord Lanchester learned that the woman who had rented the cottage for her nanny and child was the bride of his close friend the Duke of Avonlea?
Would he feel it his duty to tell Justin? A trickle of fear ran down her spine. She did not know what to do. Perhaps it might be best to confess her secret to her husband at once?
Her stomach was fluttering with nerves as she went into the house a short time later. Her dress was crumpled from playing with the child and she’d hoped that she might escape to her room to change before seeing her husband, but even as she started to ascend the stairs, Justin came out into the hall and called to her.
‘Lucinda—will you do me the courtesy of sparing me a few minutes of your time, please?’
‘Yes, of course,’ she said and turned, walking to meet him. ‘I am glad to see you back. I hope you had a good journey?’
‘You do not seem surprised to see me.’
‘I met Lord Lanchester as I was walking in the wood,’ Lucinda said. ‘He mentioned that he had seen you driving your curricle through the village.’
Justin frowned. ‘Mrs Mann told me that you spend most of your day walking. I was not aware that you enjoyed rambling to that extent?’
‘Yes, it is a favourite pastime with me,’ Lucinda said, feeling very conscious of the lies she must tell him. ‘Did your business go well?’
‘I dare say my lawyers will see to it,’ he replied. ‘As you know, I went mainly because I needed a little time to think. I have decided that I shall put the past behind us, Lucinda. There is still some gossip, but I have told people that you were called to a sick relative; though some may still whisper behind your back, I think the gossip and speculation will blow over. The best thing is to give the impression that we are perfectly happy in our marriage. To that end I have decided that I shall give a ball here at Avonlea.’
‘A ball?’ Lucinda’s heart fluttered. ‘Does this mean that you have forgiven me?’
‘It means that I am trying to put the past behind us, Lucinda. For the moment we shall continue as we were. Outwardly, we have the perfect marriage. As yet I do not believe I wish for more. We shall get to know each other again and perhaps come to an understanding. What happened is in part my fault. I rushed you into marriage. We must get to know one another before we can be man and wife in all senses of the word.’
Lucinda’s hopes had soared when he spoke of a ball, but now she felt a coldness form about her heart. He looked so grave and she missed the gentle smiles that had made her knees go weak when he had courted her. He did not seem much like the charming man who had spoiled and flirted with her. It was that man she adored and longed for.
When she’d been considering her answer, Lucinda had wondered if she could bear any man to touch her after what had happened that fatal night. However, Justin’s gentleness and the tenderness of his kiss had made her feel such sweet longings she had felt she could overcome her bad memories and accept Justin’s loving.
‘Then I shall do my best to be the wife you want, Avonlea,’ she said and raised her head proudly. ‘I shall give Mrs Mann instructions to prepare for guests. How many do you wish to invite?’
‘I think we must invite everyone who attended our wedding. It is only fair to give them the reception they were cheated of then—do you not think so?’
‘Yes, perhaps.’
Lucinda held back the emotion that was building inside her. She still had the guest list she had used for their wedding. Most of those invited were Avonlea’s friends, some of whom she’d never met. It would be embarrassing to face them all at such a glittering occasion, but it must be done. She owed her husband this and more besides.
If he had taken her into his arms and kissed her, she could have borne it all so much easier. Indeed, she might have shed tears and confessed her secret had he been the gentle considerate man she’d fallen in love with, but he was a stranger, a man she did not recognise.
‘I shall do whatever you wish, Avonlea.’
‘I’m glad to hear that, Lucinda. Now, please go and change your gown. You look like a hoyden. Remember that you are a duchess now and try to behave in an appropriate manner.’
How his words stung her! Was he being deliberately cruel or did he not understand that she would have found it difficult enough to carry off her new social standing even if he had been loving and kind? As it was she felt alone and isolated.
Escaping to her rooms, she shut the door and stood with her back against it, fighting the tears. The burden of her secret was hard enough to bear, but Avonlea’s remote manner made it so much worse.
She brushed the tears from her eyes, refusing to break down as she had in the woods earlier. Her hus band had told her to behave like a duchess and she would find the strength to do it somehow.
Justin looked at his reflection in the dressing mirror and swore. He was such a fool. Why must he be angry again? Why could he not have given Lucinda the gift he’d purchased for her, kissed her and told her he cared deeply for her—that he wanted to make her happy? It was what he’d planned, but the sight of her with her hair tussled and her gown creased had alerted his suspicions. She looked as if she might just have come from the arms of a lover.
Her mention of Lord Lanchester had made him so angry—and jealous. Jealousy was an ugly emotion and one he did not like in himself. He had not realised that he could experience the emotion so sharply and his reaction to it was primeval and savage, not at all the behaviour of the gentleman he prided himself on being.
A gentleman was reasonable at all times, courteous to those around him and most of all, honourable. It was not honourable to feel as if he would like to murder his best friend.
Shaking his head, he felt his mouth curve in a wry smile. He must learn to curb his temper or he might not be answerable for his actions.
Chapter Four (#ulink_10d783ba-1d2b-5872-b47f-ed74a233cf13)
‘That is a pretty gown, Lucinda. It becomes you very well.’
‘Thank you, Avonlea.’ Lucinda inclined her head but did not smile. For the past two days they had managed to behave with civility towards one another. Her husband paid her compliments and appeared satisfied with the arrangements she was making for the ball, but he was still distant, a little cool in his manner, though at times she saw an expression in his eyes that puzzled her. ‘Do you have plans for this morning?’
‘I was thinking of riding into Thaxted to visit someone. Did you wish for the carriage? If you are going visiting, I could accompany you tomorrow.’
‘I know very few of your friends,’ Lucinda said. ‘I have not felt able to visit, though I believe one or two of your neighbours have called. I was unfortunately out at
the time—but perhaps tomorrow we could go visiting together?’
‘Yes, we shall do so. I was unaware that you had not troubled to make yourself at home to our friends.’
‘It…was remiss of me. I must settle on a day when I am always here,’ Lucinda replied, refusing to meet his eyes. ‘I have visited Jane Lanchester and she has been here on three occasions.’
‘That is all very well, but you must be aware of your position, Lucinda. As my duchess you are expected to keep a certain standard. You should be at home on at least one day a week and visit friends on another—and you must concern yourself with what is going on in the district. We hold various functions for the villagers during the year and my mother enjoyed opening the church fête. I believe the vicar used to call once a month to tell her what was needed for the poor of the locality.’
‘Forgive me. I did not know what was expected. You did not mention my duties, Avonlea.’
He looked at her for a moment in silence, then his expression softened. ‘No, I have not discussed these things as I ought and that was remiss of me. I have neglected my duty towards you, Lucinda. I beg your pardon. My visit this morning has been arranged for a while, but tomorrow I shall take you visiting—and this evening we shall discuss some of the things that are expected from the duchess. I shall give you my mother’s diaries. They will help you, I dare say.’
‘Yes, thank you,’ Lucinda replied. ‘I shall not keep you, Avonlea. I have things to do.’
He was standing very close to her, his eyes curiously intent as he looked down at her. His hand reached out and he touched her cheek, stroking his fingers down to her mouth, smoothing his thumb over the softness of her bottom lip. She trembled inwardly, thinking he might kiss her and wanting it, longing for the smile that would tell her the man she loved was back, but it did not happen.
‘You are very beautiful, Lucinda.’
‘Thank you. I’m sorry if I’ve disappointed you, Justin.’
‘Nonsense. I am at fault. I am thoughtless and too demanding. There is plenty of time for you to learn your duties.’
He nodded to her and strode away. As soon as she was certain he had left, Lucinda ran upstairs and fetched her cloak. She had not been able to visit her daughter since her husband’s return. Angela would be upset and she must make the most of what time she had.
It was mid-afternoon when Lucinda left the cottage and began to walk home as fast as she could. Her daughter had wept when she saw her, clinging to her all day. Leaving her was very hard and Lucinda had delayed until the last moment, knowing that she would not have time to visit the next day.
‘Stay with me,’ Angela begged her. ‘Do not leave me, Mama. I promise to be good if you take me with you.’
‘I cannot take you yet,’ Lucinda said and kissed her, putting her into her nurse’s arms. ‘Be a good girl and I shall come as often as I can.’
‘Angela is always good,’ Nanny said. ‘She is learning her numbers and her letters—and to speak as she ought. She will do well enough when you have gone, Lucinda.’
Lucinda knew that her friend spoke wisely. Children always clung to their mothers. Had she been able to have her at Avonlea she could not have spent more than an hour or so with her each day, for she had many duties. The child must learn to be a young lady and with that came discipline. It was because she had to leave her in the cottage that she felt so guilty, she supposed, but there was nothing more she could do for the moment. She was finding it hard enough to do all the things that Justin seemed to expect of her.
Justin ought to have known when he asked her to marry him that she would not be accustomed to so many servants or the way things should be run in such a large house. If he wanted her to behave as his mother had, he should have married someone who had been taught these things—or at least shown her what to do and given her time to learn.
‘We meet again, Duchess.’
‘Lord Lanchester…’ Lucinda laughed as she jumped. ‘You startled me. I was lost in thought and did not see you there. I was in a hurry to get home for tea.’
‘If you do not mind, I shall walk with you,’ he said. ‘I was hoping to catch Avonlea for a few minutes.’
‘You must take tea with us,’ Lucinda said. ‘You and Jane will come to the ball, I hope?’
‘I should not miss it for the world,’ he said and smiled at her. ‘You will save the first waltz for me, Duchess?’
‘Yes, of course. I should like it if you would call me Lucinda, sir.’
‘I am honoured to be your friend,’ he replied and was rewarded by her shy smile. ‘Jane is helping with the village fête next month. Your ball will be over by then and she thought you might like to open the occasion for them. I did it last year and your husband the year previously.’
‘Oh, yes, that would be pleasant. Perhaps Jane will tell me what I should say?’
‘You need only say how happy you are to be there and that you wish everyone a good afternoon,’ he said. ‘You might make a little presentation of some small gifts for the children—sweets or tin whistles, something of the sort.’
‘Yes, I believe Mama did something of the kind when we had a fête for the church in our gardens,’ Lucinda said and laughed. ‘I remember how good it was to be given such treats when I was a child.’
‘You are still young and innocent yourself,’ her companion said. ‘You deserve all the treats I am sure Avonlea gives you.’
‘Yes, perhaps,’ she said, but turned away and did not meet his look. They had left the wood behind and were walking on Avonlea land now. Hearing hoofbeats behind them, she glanced round and saw that her husband was riding towards them, having come from the direction of the park. ‘Here he is now…’
‘Ah, yes, just in time for tea as you expected,’ Andrew said and stopped walking as Justin pulled his horse to a halt and looked down at them. ‘Justin, I was on my way to see you when I met your enchanting duchess, who has kindly invited me to tea.’
‘Yes, of course, good to see you,’ Justin said and dismounted, leading his horse as he walked beside them. ‘Lucinda, my love, you look beautiful. Walking in the fresh air suits you. I must try it myself.’
‘Thank you.’ Lucinda glanced at him. His eyes were intent, not angry but thoughtful and certainly not remote. ‘We were speaking of the fête next month, after the ball has taken place. Jane wondered if I might open it and I have said I will. I trust that pleases you, Avonlea?’
‘Jane thought everyone would like to get a better look at your duchess,’ Andrew said and grinned. ‘You’ve kept her pretty close, Justin—and the locals want their share of her. I’ve told her all she needs to do is smile and look pretty—and perhaps bribe the children with some sweets.’
‘Oh…’ Lucinda laughed softly. ‘That is not quite what you said, sir. I believe I can find something appropriate to say that may please.’
‘I am certain of it, Lucinda.’
His smile was so warm that she blushed.
‘I dare say Lucinda will grow accustomed to these things in time. I shall give her some pointers once she decides to take up her duties.’
‘Oh, no one expects too much just yet, old fellow,’ Andrew said. ‘You are hardly wed and with Lucinda being called to the bedside of a cousin as she lay dying, well, you are still on your honeymoon. I am surprised that you did not whisk her away to Paris as soon as she returned.’
‘Her cousin…is that what people are saying?’ Justin’s gaze narrowed. ‘Yes, it was unfortunate, of course, but we have plenty of time for visiting Paris. I thought Lucinda should get to know everyone and that is why I arranged the ball.’
‘Everyone always loves your balls. What is the theme this time?’
‘I’ve left that to Lucinda,’ Justin replied. ‘We have had several themes in the past: eastern palaces, knights and dragons. What had you in mind, Lucinda?’
He had not mentioned that the ball needed a theme! Lucinda felt a spurt of anger, but controlled it. How was she supposed to know that there was always a theme for the ball? Yet her fertile mind soon supplied an answer.
‘I thought we might have witches, elves and trolls,’ she said and smiled. ‘Unless that has already been used?’
‘Witches and wizards,’ Andrew said before Justin could reply. ‘I don’t think I recall that one—sounds like great fun to me. You must remember to put it on the invitation, Lucinda, give everyone a chance to prepare a costume.’
‘I dare say we could provide a tall hat for everyone and a mask,’ she said, warming to her theme. ‘A dark flowing gown for the ladies and a domino for the men and there you have your disguise—of course, anyone brave enough to come as an elf or a troll would need something more daring.’
‘Are you putting us on our mettle, Duchess?’ Andrew looked much amused. ‘I reserve the right to prepare my own costume and so will Jane. I think we shall surprise you.’
Lucinda’s eyes lit up with mischief. ‘Oh, yes, that sounds so much fun. I think we shall all enjoy seeing each other’s costumes—do you not think so, Justin?’
She turned to look at him and saw that his expression had changed again, not distant but distinctly colder.
‘If it pleases you both, who am I to cavil?’ he asked. ‘I also shall endeavour to come up with my own costume and surprise you.’
‘I had no idea a ball could be so amusing,’ Lucinda said. ‘It was good of you to suggest it, Justin. I shall enjoy it so much.’
‘It is my mission in life to make you happy, my dear Duchess,’ he replied gallantly, but she caught an inflection in his voice that told her he was controlling himself with some difficulty.
After tea, Lucinda left the men to talk and went up to her rooms on the pretext of a rest before changing for the evening. In fact, she had a sentence to add to the pile of invitations she had already completed. She could only be thankful that she had not put them out for posting that morning. Had Lord Lanchester not mentioned the theme, she would have disappointed those who were expecting the ball to have its own theme.
It was neglectful of Justin not to tell her. There was so much she needed to know if she was to follow in the footsteps of those who had come before her at Avonlea. She had already disappointed Justin in the matter of her innocence; she must try very hard to be a good hostess for his friends.
That evening at dinner Justin was polite, but distant once more. After they had dined he did not linger over his port, but accompanied her to the small parlour that he preferred in the evenings when they had no guests.
‘How did you happen to meet Lanchester this afternoon?’ he enquired as he stood by the fireplace and sipped the glass of port he had carried with him.
‘I had been for a walk and we met by chance. As he wished to see you, we walked back to the house together.’
‘Have you consulted with Mrs Mann about the food for the ball?’
‘Yes, Justin. I asked her to show me some menus that might be suitable for supper and approved the one I thought best. Did you wish to approve it yourself?’
‘No, I trust you to have made the proper decision with Mrs Mann’s help. She has been here many years and my mother said she was a treasure.’
‘Yes, I am certain she is very capable.’ Lucinda hesitated, wondering whether she ought to ask about the attic rooms, then decided to leave it for the moment. ‘I should be grateful for your mother’s diaries if you would give them to me, Avonlea. I had no idea that a theme was needed for the ball until Andrew mentioned it.’
‘You are on first-name terms with Lanchester?’
‘Oh, yes. Jane and I are such good friends. I do not use his name often, but since you and he are such close friends and neighbours it would seem foolish to stand on ceremony.’
‘Neighbours, yes. We were not always friends. We fought a duel over a woman once, but we both fired in the air and made it up afterwards. In truth, she wasn’t worth wasting the shot.’
‘That is rather unkind, Avonlea.’
‘She was an opera singer—which is a polite name for her true trade, if you must know.’
‘I see…I suppose she was your mistress.’
‘Andrew’s actually until I cut him out.’
‘Then you were at fault.’
‘It was for a bet. Some of the fellows wagered that I could not do it—so of course I had to prove them wrong. I’m not sure he has forgiven me.’
‘Would you have forgiven him, had it been the other way round?’
‘Lord, yes, he hardly cared for her.’
‘I think Lord Lanchester would not have fought over a woman he did not care for.’
‘He is no white knight, Lucinda. I should be careful of walking in woods alone with him.’
‘Avonlea! You are not suggesting that he—or I—would think of…’ She gave him a reproachful look. ‘I am not a lightskirt, whatever you may think of me.’
‘No, of course. Forgive me.’ He looked conscious. ‘I did not mean it that way, Lucinda. Andrew is a normal man and he likes you. Alone in the woods he might be tempted to take advantage.’
‘He is my friend, but he is also yours. Excuse me, I think I shall go to bed.’
He was on his feet and caught her arm as she got up to leave. ‘No, Lucinda, forgive me. I did not mean to offend you. It was a careless remark, nothing more.’
‘What happened—the rape—I did nothing to encourage him. I give you my word.’
‘I believe you. I am a fool,’ Justin apologised. ‘I do not mean to quarrel with you, Lucinda. It is just my pride. Of course I do not think you of easy virtue.’
She sighed, her throat tight with emotion. ‘I think I have killed your affection for me. I fear this marriage will not work.’
‘We shall not let it fail.’ The pressure of his fingers was almost painful as he looked down at her. For a moment passion blazed in his eyes and then he bent his head, brushing his mouth softly over hers. Her lips parted on a sigh and his tongue entered her mouth as he deepened the kiss. Lucinda’s fingers moved at his nape as she relished his caress, a little shiver running through her. Her body had begun to heat and she wanted to cling to him, but held back for fear of displeasing him. His eyes darkened and he frowned as he withdrew. ‘Go to bed, Lucinda. I shall not disturb you.’
Her disappointment was sharp. For a moment she’d thought he had forgiven her, but then she’d sensed his withdrawal. What had she done wrong?
‘Very well, good night, Justin.’
Walking away from him, she felt the sting of tears, but fought against them. She must learn not to be hurt by his moods and his harsh words. If this was to be her life, she had to learn to cope with her secret grief and show a smiling face to the world.
Lucinda walked swiftly, wanting to be home before Justin came to look for her. Their quarrel of the previous evening was still sharp in her mind and she had no wish to cause a breach between them.
It was as she was walking across the smooth lawns that she saw her husband coming towards her and knew that she had been discovered.
‘You are up early, Lucinda?’
‘You know that I enjoy a walk early in the morning,’ she said with a smile that covered her trepidation. ‘Do you not recall the morning that you took me to see the swans?’
‘The swans…?’ Justin was puzzled, then he smiled. ‘Yes, of course. You were staying with Jane Lanchester and expressed a wish to see the new cygnets on the lake. I came for you early and we had breakfast here.’
Lucinda nodded. ‘It was that day you proposed to me, Justin. We had such a lovely time. We went for a long walk and you arranged a picnic by the lake. I fed croissants to the swans and you said they would do much better on the special pellets you keep for them—but you did not scold me.’
‘It is not my wish to scold you, Lucinda.’ Justin looked rueful as he offered her his arm. ‘I shall try to do better, my love—if you will forgive me for my shocking temper.’
‘Of course I forgive you. You are my husband.’
‘Perhaps you would like to go for a drive later?’
‘Yes, thank you. I should enjoy that very much.’
‘Then it will be my pleasure to take you.’
Lucinda’s hand trembled slightly on his arm. His manner was charming and he was once more the man she had married—but his mood would turn to anger again if he guessed where she had been that morning.
How much longer could she keep her guilty secret?
For the next ten days Lucinda had coped by getting up very early. She was at the cottage by seven each morning and returned by nine-thirty, giving her maid instructions that she would breakfast alone in her room at a quarter to ten. Since most ladies did not leave their rooms much before noon, she was able to see her beloved daughter and attend to her duties in the house without occasioning notice.
On the day of the ball she returned at nine-thirty as usual to discover Justin sitting in a chair in her boudoir. He rose as she entered, his eyes taking note of the plainness of her gown and her hair hanging loose about her face.
‘Is it your habit to rise so early on the day of an important ball? I should have thought you would take the opportunity to rest, Lucinda.’
‘You know I like to walk,’ she replied with quiet dignity. ‘Since it is necessary for me to fulfil my duties here, I have found it convenient to walk before breakfast. The business of the day is done before nuncheon and I am free to spend my afternoon with you should you wish for company—or to receive friends.’
‘I like to ride before breaking my fast,’ he said. ‘It would be pleasant if you could accompany me sometimes.’
‘Yes, of course if you wish it—if you let me know in time.’
‘Very well. In future I shall mention my preference before we part for the evening. I did not think I should need to make an appointment with my own wife, but since you are so busy I must make it a rule.’
It seemed that nothing she did was right for her husband and her eyes stung with the tears she would not shed. These past few days had been pleasant enough on the surface; for a moment as he’d kissed her, she’d believed the old Justin was back—but his resentment was still there, eating at him. At times she saw passion in his eyes and believed he was close to making love to her, but each time he drew back, retreating behind that cool reserve.
‘If you wish, I can change into a suitable gown now.’
‘I think not,’ he said and moved towards the door, glancing back at her. ‘Did you happen to meet anyone on your walk this morning?’
‘I glimpsed one of your keepers in the wood, but other than that saw no one. Should I have seen someone or something?’
‘It was merely an idle question,’ he said. For a moment his eyes dwelled on her, as if questioning or searching for answers he could not find. ‘Everything is ready for this evening. You should rest while you can, Lucinda. You will not wish to be tired this evening.’
‘I shall not tire myself, Justin. However, I wish to see for myself that everything is as it ought to be. This is our first ball and I want everything to be perfect for your friends.’
‘I hope they will be your friends too, Lucinda,’ he said, frowning as he went out.
She sat down at her dressing table, her heart racing. Why had Justin been waiting for her to return? Could he have discovered her secret?
She might have to tell him soon, but not yet. If they quarrelled again before the ball, it would create an atmosphere. She must wait until after this evening and then perhaps she would confess her secret. If Justin understood why she went for a walk every day, he might not be so suspicious.
Guests began arriving soon after eleven that morning. Justin had advised Lucinda to rest, but since he had gone riding alone and not returned, she was left with the duty of greeting his friends and arranging for them to be shown to their rooms.
‘Some of his Grace’s relatives have special rooms that are kept for their use,’ Mrs Mann had told her a few days previously. ‘And other friends like to be put at the rear of the house rather than the front, but I have a list of accommodation for you to approve.’
Lucinda glanced at the list. ‘I have no fault to find, but I would like to see the rooms once they are ready, just in case anything else is needed.’
At the start the housekeeper had been disapproving, but she was gradually warming towards Lucinda. When she had suggested that there should be flowers in all the guestrooms, brandy for the gentlemen, wine and sweetmeats for the ladies, her housekeeper had smiled and agreed.
‘They are the kind of things that guests like to find in their rooms, because it saves them asking for extras to be brought. Some people ring their bell for service all the time, but others do not like to seem too demanding.’
‘I think it is nice to have something at hand in that time between going up to your room and dressing for the evening—and before bed. So if all the rooms are supplied earlier in the afternoon, it will save the maids having to run upstairs a dozen times before dinner.’
‘That is thoughtful of you, my lady. I suppose you have not had the time to consider what should be done for the attic rooms?’
‘I need a little more time to consider.’
Lucinda had put the matter to the back of her mind, because the ball was more pressing and Angela had seemed fairly settled at the cottage. She still cried when her mother left her, but she was becoming less clinging, growing used to the idea that her mother came and went each day.
What would she do if Justin decided to take her to Paris or perhaps London? It was bound to happen in time. Lucinda could only hope that by the time he was ready for such a visit her daughter would be happier, content to stay with Nanny.
With the arrival of her guests, Lucinda had no time to give her daughter more than a passing thought. She was constantly greeting people, many of whom she had never seen before. It was a relief when Justin returned at noon and apologised for leaving her to cope alone.
‘I managed well enough. However, I am sure your guests will be pleased to see you.’
‘Our guests, Lucinda,’ he reminded her. ‘You are the hostess here, my dear.’
‘Yes, of course.’
Jane and Andrew Lanchester did not arrive until the early evening, when everyone was gathering for the ball. The guests who were staying had been served high tea and given sandwiches, lemon barley, brandy and wine in their rooms. A lavish supper would be served at about ten and the dancing began at seven.
Everyone was excited when they took off their cloaks, exclaiming over each other’s costumes. Jane was wearing a flowing green gown, because she said it was the true colour for witches. She wore her long dark hair loose about her face and a pendent of lapis lazuli about her neck
‘The lapis has magic powers,’ she said with a smile. ‘I am, of course, a white witch and use my magic only for good—some of your other guests look more sinister.’
Their guests had various ideas of what a witch or wizard should look like. Most of the men had chosen black and taken what could only be described as a medieval theme, wearing tight hose and tunics that fitted to the waist or fell in loose folds to mid-thigh, depending on their age and stature. The ladies were less adventurous, though several had dressed in flowing medieval style gowns similar to Jane’s. One lady had very long nails, which she had dyed with a green colour that looked very effective; some wore a velvet mask, and others had a pointed hat, which they soon discarded.
Andrew Lanchester had come dressed as a medieval knight. He grinned at Lucinda as he saw that she was wearing a green-and-white gown with fronds, which fluttered like leaves of silk, hanging from an embroidered band beneath her breasts. On her head she wore a tiny skullcap of gold threads.
‘I think you must be the Queen of the elves,’ he said. ‘I am Sir Lancelot and I’ve come prepared to rescue any ladies in danger of being enchanted by these wicked wizards.’
Lucinda laughed. ‘I am not sure that any ladies are in danger at the moment,’ she said. She glanced at her husband, who was wearing a green-velvet tunic that fitted into his waist and then flared out in little pleats, his tight-fitting hose in a matching shade. He had a little fringed cape of black silk and beads that fell in a point over one shoulder. Again it was the medieval style, but had something of an elfish look. ‘I am quite disappointed that no one dressed up as a troll to frighten us all.’
‘I doubt that anyone was certain of what a troll should look like,’ Andrew said. ‘I do not believe I have ever met one—what does a troll do, do you imagine?’
‘He or she lives under a bridge, eats rotten fruit, has exceedingly bad manners and is very aggressive,’ Lucinda replied laughingly.
‘Indeed?’ Andrew raised his right eyebrow. ‘I believe I have met one or two after all, but they do not appear to be here this evening. Clearly, you had the good sense not to invite them.’
‘Trolls need no invitation,’ Lucinda said. ‘Perhaps it is as well that they have decided to stay away.’
The servants were circulating with trays and people helped themselves to glasses of champagne. To give the ball an atmosphere, Lucinda had asked the servants to hang banners of green-and-black silk, from which dangled little spiders, toads and black cats, which she had made herself from paper, ribbon and scraps of velvet. Justin had discovered a beautiful crystal ball, which had been set in the middle of a display of prickly holly, some white lilies and little dishes of biscuits in the shapes of witches, wizards, toads and black cats.
Outside the ballroom there were lanterns hung in the trees and Lucinda had painted silhouettes of witches, wizards and black cats on the glass so that when it got dark they would throw shadows onto the lawns. There was to be a firework display at the end of the evening, which the gardeners had been busy setting up all day, and the guests would watch from the safety of the veranda.
Lucinda and Justin opened the ball together. Everyone smiled and applauded them as they performed alone for a few minutes, then gradually other couples joined in and soon everyone was dancing. As soon as Justin released her, Lucinda was besieged by gentlemen wishing to dance with her.
‘This is a jolly fine evening, duchess,’ one rather portly gentleman told her. ‘These clothes are a deal more comfortable than the tight breeches they make us wear these days.’
‘You make an excellent wizard, Sir John,’ she said and smiled at her husband’s cousin. ‘I am so glad you are enjoying yourself.’
‘I can’t recall when I’ve enjoyed an evening more. Your decorations are enchanting—naïve and different. Justin tells me you did it all yourself?’
‘Yes, I thought it would be amusing. I copied the silhouettes from a children’s book I found in the nursery.’
‘Well, I like it better than some of these fancy affairs they hold in London where everything is so formal and professional—there is a bit of fun about what you’ve done, m’dear. Not enough of it about if you ask me. Justin is a lucky dog.’
‘How kind of you to say so, sir.’
Since his remarks were more or less what everyone was saying, Lucinda felt relieved. She had not had time to send to London for professionally made decorations, but had enjoyed making them herself.
‘You were always good at drawing,’ Jane said when they spoke later. ‘I was thinking we might employ a designer for our Christmas ball this year, but I think I shall not bother. Perhaps you will help me decide on something pretty to decorate our ballroom?’
‘I shall be delighted to,’ Lucinda said and smiled as Andrew came towards them. ‘I was a little anxious—I did not know I was expected to have a theme until your brother mentioned it, but everything has turned out well.’
‘I believe this is our dance, Duchess?’
‘Yes, I believe it is,’ Lucinda said and offered her hand.
It was their second dance that evening. Andrew had marked her card twice at the beginning and their first had been a waltz. This was a more lively country dance and she was soon laughing up at him as they threw themselves into the fun of it.
She was enjoying herself and it was not until the end of their dance, when she left Andrew to circulate and make sure that all her guests were having a good time, that she noticed Justin staring at her.
She inclined her head and smiled at him. His look was neither hostile nor angry, but rather puzzled, a little whimsical, as if he were trying to make up his mind about something.
She wondered what he was thinking. He had opened the dancing with her and she’d seen him dance with Jane Lanchester and one or two of his relatives, including Sir John’s wife, but mostly he seemed content to move about the room, engaging his friends in conversation.
He approached her at supper and asked if she were having a pleasant evening.
‘Yes, Justin,’ she said and smiled without restraint. ‘I think it has all gone well, do you not agree?’
‘Everyone is congratulating me on my choice of a wife. They like your manner, Lucinda, and the refreshing change you have brought to Avonlea.’
‘Oh…’ Her cheeks burned. ‘I am just being myself. I might have sent to London for the decorations had I thought there was time, but I was not sure who to use—and I enjoyed making the decorations myself.’
‘As a first attempt it was well done,’ he said, a note of qualified approval in his voice. ‘I dare say people are prepared to be generous to a young and lovely bride holding her first ball.’
‘Thank you, Justin. I shall, of course, consult your mother’s diaries in the future now that I understand you prefer a more professional approach.’
Keeping her head high and refusing to let herself be hurt, Lucinda walked away from him to join her guests. Was everyone just being kind because it was her first ball? She had thought they genuinely liked what she’d done, but it seemed that Justin thought her efforts were amateur and not up to the standard he was accustomed to. If they were just humouring her, it was too lowering.
‘Your Grace.’ A lady she had met only briefly earlier that evening came sailing up to her. She was wearing a purple gown, but had sewn black beads to the hem and now Lucinda noticed that she had stars, a moon and a black cat repeated around the gown. ‘May I congratulate you on your theme this evening? I love the way you have done these little murals and the hangings are so effective—as are the lanterns now that the light has gone outside.’
‘How kind of you, Lady Morgan. I fear it is all a little amateurish, but I was not sure who to consult in the matter of decoration.’
‘Not at all, I am all for using your own talent, Lucinda—may I call you Lucinda? I am giving a house party next month and I should like your advice about a theme I have in mind. Perhaps we could talk in the morning?’
Lucinda felt a rush of emotion. ‘I should be delighted. I am grateful for your approval, Lady Morgan.’
‘Do call me Veronica, my dear. I have every hope that we shall become good friends.’
‘Yes, I hope so, too.’ Lucinda swallowed hard. The lady’s approval, coming as it did after Justin’s remarks, had made her emotional. ‘I have few real friends in society as yet.’
‘But everyone likes you,’ Lady Morgan said. ‘You will be the toast of the town when you go to London in the spring.’
‘You are so kind.’ Lucinda smiled, the cloud lifting. She was by nature a happy person and she determined that she would gain friends and make her life as pleasant as possible. ‘I shall look forward to our talk tomorrow—at about eleven, if that suits you?’
‘Perfectly.’ Lady Morgan smiled. ‘I hope you did not mind my bringing my nephew with me? Simon was staying and asked if he might accompany me.’
‘You mean Mr Royston?’ Lucinda glanced at the young man standing a few feet away. He was, she noticed, staring at her oddly, but smiled and inclined his head as he saw her interest. ‘No, of course not. Had I known he was your guest I should have added his name to the invitation.’
‘I was sure that would be your answer. I believe him to be a great admirer of yours, Duchess—but, of course, everyone will be at your feet after this evening,’ the lady said before sailing majestically away to talk with her nephew.
Lucinda glanced at the young man once more. Something in his look at that moment made her feel uncertain, for his expression was calculating and cold rather than admiring. Briefly, she wondered why he’d told his aunt that he was an admirer. She did not recall having met the gentleman before that night, though there was something about him that disturbed her. Her thoughts were interrupted as someone spoke behind her.
‘Shall we dance?’
Lucinda turned in surprise to find Justin behind her. Her heart raced madly, because the expression in his eyes made her remember the first night they had met. She consulted her dance card and discovered she had a space; inclining her head, she accepted his outstretched hand.
‘Why not?’ she said. ‘We have danced only once this evening. In Harrogate we danced three times that first evening and my aunt forbade me to dance with you again for it looked so particular.’
‘I thought you the most perfect woman I had ever seen,’ Justin replied as he swept her into a waltz.
Lucinda tingled with pleasure. To be close to him like this was both a delight and a torture. She wanted to melt into him and let herself drift away on a cloud of enchantment, but kept a little distance between them. She must remember that she was a duchess.
Her throat was tight with emotion. If only her terrible secret had not come between them, how happy she might have been. She wondered what their guests would think if they knew she had a secret child hidden in a cottage in the woods. Ladies who smiled on her this evening would no doubt turn from her in disgust if they guessed her shame.
‘What are you thinking?’
Justin’s voice scattered her thoughts, bringing a warm flush to her cheeks. ‘Nothing in particular.’
‘You looked sad—and that is my fault.’ Justin’s voice was suddenly deep, husky. ‘I do not mean to hurt you, Lucinda. I am sorry if I offended you earlier. Your decorations are delightful. I did not mean to be critical. Mama’s designers could not have done better.’
‘I am a mere amateur.’
‘Yes, but you have style and clever fingers. Your dress is charming. I hope you are satisfied with your ball?’
‘Yes, of course. I think the costumes are more medieval than like witches or wizards, but some people have gone to more trouble. Did you see the beading on Lady Morgan’s gown? She has motifs of witches, stars and cats.’
‘I had not noticed. Your gown looks like fairy gossamer.’
‘I am the Queen of the elves,’ Lucinda said and gave him the shy smile that had been missing for a while. ‘I think you must be an elf or a pixie.’
‘That was my theme. You wondered if anyone would have the courage to come as an elf, so I thought I would oblige you, but I could not quite manage the ears. I tried to make some pointed ears, but they flopped and looked more like a rabbit.’
Lucinda’s laughter rang out, causing one or two heads to turn indulgently their way. ‘You needed something to stiffen them. I would have helped you had you asked me.’
‘I wanted to surprise you.’
‘You make a fine elf king even without the ears,’ Lucinda said. ‘I think Jane looks lovely this evening. Green suits her, do you not agree?’
‘Miss Lanchester is always elegant, but her looks pale beside yours, Lucinda. Indeed, you outshine most ladies of my acquaintance.’
‘Only most?’ She tipped her head to one side, teasing him. ‘Your cousin Alfred was far more flattering. He said I was the most beautiful woman in England.’
‘Alfred was probably in his cups,’ Justin said and then looked struck. ‘No, I did not mean that—you are, but he has a reckless tongue when he drinks too much wine.’ He pulled a wry face and laughed, his eyes sparkling. ‘I am not making it better, am I?’
‘No, but I understand you.’ Lucinda smiled forgivingly. This was the man she had fallen in love with. He had come back to her, at least for a little while. ‘Your cousin is a pleasant gentleman, but over-fond of his wine and a little expansive in his compliments.’
‘You are very forgiving,’ Justin said and there was an odd reflective expression in his eyes. ‘I should try to follow your lead.’
‘The case is rather different. I had little to forgive,’ Lucinda said and then wished she had not as the smile faded from his lips.
‘We shall not speak of it again,’ Justin said and his lips tightened. ‘I have made up my mind. We shall be husband and wife in truth and forget the past.’
‘As you wish, Justin. I have never wished for anything else.’
Lucinda smiled serenely, but her heart was thumping so hard that she could scarcely breathe and she felt a spasm that was half-nerves, half-delight curl through her stomach.
Then, feeling that she was being watched, she turned her head and saw that Mr Royston was staring at her again. There was such a strange expression in his eyes—a look almost of gloating. A shiver of ice trickled down her spine. Why would a man she hardly knew look at her so knowingly?
Simon Royston’s eyes followed the beautiful duchess as she moved gracefully through the dance. She was undoubtedly a great success. Her first ball had hit the right note and everyone was talking of her wit and talent. She was thought to be a great asset to the duke.
A sly rather unpleasant smile touched Royston’s mouth as he wondered what some of these proud ladies would think, if they knew as much as he did. His gaze narrowed as the young duchess glanced at him. She turned away, a faint flush in her cheeks, as though she found his interest in her disturbing. Laughter rose inside him as he savoured his secret. The time was coming when he would put his knowledge to good use.
His misfortune was that he had expensive tastes. For the past two years or more he had been living beyond his means, his lifestyle supported by a run of luck at the tables. Of late his luck had deserted him. Royston was deeply in debt. His aunt had given him a thousand guineas, warning him it was the last time that she would pay his debts. He’d gambled on doubling his stake and lost. On the verge of fleeing abroad for a year or two, he’d stumbled across something that could make his fortune.
All he had to do was choose his moment.
Chapter Five (#ulink_07b0eaa2-9d38-5ae8-9668-7a0020a174b2)
The ball was over and the guests who had but a short journey to their homes were taking their leave, while those who had come some distance were saying good-night and going up to their rooms.
‘It was a lovely evening,’ Jane Lanchester said as she kissed Lucinda’s cheek. ‘I enjoyed myself so much. You must dine with us soon, Lucinda.’
‘I shall look forward to it. I believe we have two engagements for next week, but nothing the following week.’
‘Then keep the Tuesday night free,’ Jane said. ‘Andrew will ride over with the formal invitation in a day or so.’
‘Yes, I shall put it in my journal,’ Lucinda said. She offered her hand to Andrew, who took it and kissed it. ‘I hope you enjoyed yourself, Lord Lanchester?’
‘Indeed, I did, Duchess,’ he said and grinned at her. ‘Alack, there were no damsels in distress, but perhaps another time.’
‘He is incorrigible,’ Jane said and gave him a push towards the door. ‘I pity his poor wife when he marries.’
‘Why should I need a wife when I have a sister to nag me?’ he asked, but his eyes were merry and there was affection for her in his voice.
‘Is that the last?’ Justin came up to her as she went back into the hall. ‘A few of the gentlemen wish to play cards. You must be tired, Lucinda. I shall not come to you tonight—or should I say this morning? We shall begin our new life this new day, my love.’
‘Good night, Justin.’ Lucinda wasn’t certain whether she felt sorry or relieved that he did not intend to visit her that night. When she was in his arms she longed for more than the sweet kisses that turned her flesh to melting need, but how would she respond when he wanted more of her?
For a moment a memory flashed into her mind, causing her to shudder. Resolutely, she dismissed it. She had faced and conquered her fears before promising to wed Justin. That evil man would not ruin her chance of happiness! She refused to let what he’d done to her overshadow her life.
Justin was a gentleman, courteous and caring. She had believed she was ready to overcome her memories and become his proper wife. However, their estrangement had left her feeling a little uncertain of her husband’s true feelings. For a moment as he’d looked at her earlier, she’d felt he truly cared for and wanted her and she wanted nothing more than to be that man’s wife—but she would hate it if he came to her in anger or with indifference.
She wanted Justin to love her, deeply, passionately, as she loved him, but she was very afraid that he never would now. He wanted a wife to give him heirs, a woman he could be proud to call his duchess. Lucinda must strive to become that woman.
Going upstairs to her room, she found Alice sitting up for her.
‘You should have gone to bed, Alice. I could have managed.’
‘It is my job to sit up for you and my privilege,’ Alice replied. ‘You know I would do much more if you asked it of me.’
‘I have not asked yet, but I may do so quite soon,’ Lucinda said. ‘If I told you a very private secret, you would not repeat it to a soul?’
‘Cross my heart and hope to die.’
‘Then perhaps I shall soon now,’ Lucinda said. ‘But for now you may retire.’
Lucinda was thoughtful as she sat down to brush her hair. Justin disliked her going for long walks. If she furnished the two attic rooms with Alice’s help, she might bring her daughter and Nanny to the house.
She ought to ask Justin, of course, but if he was almost ready to forgive her she did not want to spoil things between them again. The empty rooms were above the guestrooms. Except when they had house parties that wing of the house was usually empty. No one would notice if a child cried sometimes.
She was sleepy as she slid into bed and pulled the covers up around her. It was outrageous to think of hiding her daughter in the attics of her husband’s house, but Angela had been coughing recently and Nanny said she thought the cottage might be damp.
‘It had not been used for a while and I think the roof leaks when it rains,’ she’d said. ‘It will do during the summer, Lucinda, but repairs will need to be done before the winter if we are to stay here.’
She must think of something to tell the servants and Mrs Mann. Alice would be privy to the truth, but they could not hope to keep the child’s presence a secret for long.
She had told the doctor that Angela was her dead cousin’s child. It might be best to continue with the same tale. Perhaps if she told Justin she wanted to help her cousin’s child…
As soon as he saw Angela he would guess the truth. No, she could not lie to him, so she must try to keep her secret a little longer. Perhaps she could find another cottage for Nanny and her daughter, though if they were farther away it would make it difficult for her to visit.
Lucinda knew that she had been deliberately shutting out the thoughts uppermost in her mind. Justin had allowed her one more night to sleep alone, but after that he intended to claim his rights as her husband.
Her heart was racing as she settled down to sleep. She was apprehensive, because she was not sure how to receive him. He could be charming and gentle, but he could also be cold and forbidding—which man would come to her bed?
Justin yawned as he sought his bed after the last of the gentlemen had retired for the night. As host he had no choice but to keep his guests company until the end, but he had never felt less like playing cards.
Why did Lucinda have to be so very beautiful? Watching her laughing and dancing with their guests, he had felt a hot surging desire—a need so strong that it had taken all his willpower to keep from sweeping her up into his arms and running off with her somewhere private where he could make love to her.
He was not sure when his feelings had become more intense. At the beginning he’d believed he felt affection and liking for the shy sweet girl he’d asked to be his bride, but of late he had been aware of a change. Perhaps it was merely the frustration of knowing she lay such a short distance from his bed. A few strides and he could be with her—he could take her into his arms and…but he must be patient. He had quarrelled with his bride over something that was not her fault and could not expect her to fall into his embrace with cries of love.
He did want her to love him. Justin wrinkled his brow. He had not thought love important when he proposed, imagining that mutual respect and liking would suffice—but now he knew it would not. Something had changed. He was not sure what or why, but it had suddenly become important that Lucinda should want him in her bed.
‘She has the snuffles again,’ Nanny said when Lucinda asked where her daughter was the next morning. ‘She was hot and miserable and so I left her in bed.’
‘This cottage is not suitable,’ Lucinda said. ‘I must make different arrangements for her.’
‘The child is strong and will be better soon,’ Nanny said. ‘But the bedrooms are cold and damp. I think I might bring our mattresses down here to the kitchens when it rains.’
‘It is not fit for either of you to be here,’ Lucinda said. ‘Leave it to me, Nanny. I shall find somewhere for you very soon—and now I must sit with Angela for half an hour. I do not wish to be away too long this morning, because we have guests.’
Lucinda found her daughter flushed and hot. She complained of a headache and a tummy ache, but after a while went back to sleep.
She must find somewhere for the child that was warm and dry, Lucinda thought as she walked back to the house that morning. Two of the attic rooms should be sufficient for their needs. Some of the rooms needed attention, but the two rooms she had thought in good condition would house Nanny and Angela—at least until she could find a better cottage close by.
Making up her mind to confide her secret to her maid, Lucinda quickened her step. Alice could carry up bedding and one of the footmen could take up clean dry mattresses. There was a bedstead in each of the rooms, also a chest in one and a table and chair in the other.
It was not ideal, but it would have to do for the moment.
When she had eaten breakfast, Lucinda kept her appointment with Lady Morgan. They had spent a pleasant hour talking together before some of the gentlemen joined them for refreshments.
After nuncheon, the gentlemen had played a game of cricket on the lawns while the ladies had sat in basket chairs and applauded. Justin had scored the most runs for his team and, flushed with success, he had come to perch on a cushion at Lucinda’s feet when tea was brought.
At a quarter to six the ladies went up to change for dinner, the gentlemen following a few minutes later. As Lucinda was changing, the door to the dressing room opened and Justin came through. He was clad only in breeches and shirt, his feet bare. Lucinda’s heart caught, her breath coming faster because he looked so handsome and there was something very sensual about bare feet and his tight breeches. She felt her stomach tighten, a spasm of what she dimly recognised as desire shooting through her. In that moment she longed to be alone with him, to be held in his arms and kissed, feeling disappointed as he addressed the maid, ‘No, you need not go,’ he said as Alice curtsied and prepared to leave them together. ‘I came only to bring my wife a trinket.’
He laid a box on the dressing table. ‘You did very well today, dearest. I think we shall have permanent guests if you continue to make them so comfortable.’
‘Most are leaving tomorrow, Justin.’
‘Yes, I know, but my cousins will stay another day or so—and some of my friends have already invited themselves for the shooting next month.’
Lucinda opened the box he’d given her, gasping with pleasure as she saw the beautiful baroque pearl on a slender gold chain.
‘This is lovely, Justin. Thank you.’
‘I think you deserve it for all your hard work.’ He bent to kiss her cheek. ‘I shall come to you tonight,’ he murmured against her ear.
Lucinda nodded, but said nothing. She glanced at Alice as her husband went back through the dressing room to his own bedchamber.
‘Is everything prepared?’
‘Yes, my lady. I asked Jenkins to help me. He is very friendly towards me and he likes you. I told him you were bringing the child of a deceased relative here and needed somewhere quiet since the child has been ill.’
‘Did he think it strange that I should choose the attics rather than the nursery?’
‘He did not say so, my lady.’
‘Do not think I like to deceive my husband, Alice. I dare not tell him for fear that he would be angry and send her away.’
‘It isn’t right that you should have to hide the child,’ Alice said. ‘I had a cousin who bore a child out of wedlock and she was treated worse than a thief. You were not to blame for what happened, my lady. Why can others not accept the child and allow you to be happy?’
‘It is the way of society. An illegitimate child is a badge of shame, Alice. I could not expect my husband to allow me to keep her as my own—but if I could keep her openly as my cousin’s child it would content us both.’
‘Why do you not ask him? The duke is not an unkind man—though he has a fearful temper. I thought he might kill me when you disappeared after the wedding.’
‘Poor Alice. It was not your fault. Had my letter not fallen down behind the chest, he might not have been so angry.’
‘I think it must have been a gust of wind that blew it there. The window was open and the curtains had tangled when I returned. I closed the window, but never saw your note.’
‘I should have put it on the bed, but I was in too much distress to think clearly.’ Lucinda stood up to go downstairs. ‘I shall bring the child and Nanny here early in the morning. You must be ready for us and take them up the back stairs.’
‘Yes, of course, my lady. You know you can rely on me.’
Alice agreed readily, but looked a little doubtful, and Lucinda knew that her maid thought she ought to tell her husband the truth. It would be the proper thing to do, but she was afraid of making him angry again.
Perhaps after they had become man and wife in truth it might be easier. If Justin were pleased with her, he would be more likely to accept her child into his house.
He was coming to her tonight. Her heart was racing as she left her room to go downstairs for dinner.
Would she please him? Was he truly ready to forgive her and to forget?
They had fewer guests that evening, but those that remained were either Justin’s relatives or his close friends and the atmosphere was relaxed. Lucinda laughed quite a lot, because his cousins flattered and teased her. Because she was enjoying herself the time soon passed and she found herself saying good-night to everyone. Justin said nothing, but his eyes told her that he was eager to visit her that night.
As soon as Alice had unfastened her gown and taken it away, Lucinda sent her to bed. She put on one of her prettiest wrapping gowns and sat brushing her hair before the dressing mirror. She had just applied a little perfume to her wrists and a spot behind her ears when the door of the dressing room opened and Justin came through.
He was wearing a long satin-striped dressing robe and his feet were bare. Lucinda guessed that he was not wearing anything beneath the robe and her pulses raced. She stood up anxiously, trying to still her nerves as she waited for him to come to her.
‘You look lovely as always,’ he said, his eyes dark with passion. ‘I have been thinking of this moment all day, Lucinda. I think we must put all the unpleasantness of the past weeks behind us and become husband and wife in the proper sense. I have been foolish to let my disappointment stand in the way of our marriage.’
‘You know that I am truly sorry for any pain I caused you?’
‘I believe you did not mean to hurt me. Perhaps you did not realise the agony I should feel not knowing whether you were in trouble—or even if you were alive.’
‘Had you found my note you might have understood at least a part,’ she said and, gathering her courage, moved towards him. ‘I do wish to be a good wife to you, Justin.’
‘You will be, just as I shall be a good husband,’ he said and smiled. ‘Come here, Lucinda. What happens now is meant to be a pleasure to both of us. I know you must have been deeply distressed and scarred by your experiences, but I shall not hurt you. I shall be gentle with you, though I hope in time you may learn to enjoy and anticipate our loving.’
‘I do not fear you,’ Lucinda said, looking at him earnestly. ‘It was a part of the reason I hesitated to accept your offer, Justin. I wondered if I might not be able to respond, but when you kissed me I discovered that it made me want to be in your arms. If you are patient with me, I shall try to respond as you would wish.’
‘You need do nothing but be yourself,’ he said softly and bent his head to caress her mouth with his own. His kiss was sweet and tender, drawing an instant response from her. She put her arms about his neck, her fingers moving at his nape, her lips parted on a breath of pleasure. ‘You are so sweet. You taste like honey and wine and you smell divine.’
‘I want to please you,’ Lucinda said and touched his cheek. ‘Show me how to be all the things you want, Justin—in bed and in the life we lead. Help me to make you proud of me, teach me what your duchess should know.’
He gave a little groan. ‘I was a beast to say those things to you, Lucinda. Please forgive me. I was hurt and struck out, but I do care for you. I want you and—I am proud of you. You managed everything faultlessly this weekend, with little help from me.’
‘Hush, forget it and love me,’ she murmured. ‘I want so much for us to be as we were before…’
Justin moaned softly and bent to lift her in his arms. He carried her to the bed and laid her down, untying the strings of her robe and letting it fall open so that his eyes could feast on her beauty. Her skin was creamy and soft, unblemished despite the child she’d borne, her nipples dark, her breasts full and firm. Watching her at the ball as she laughed and danced with the bevy of admirers she had gained so swiftly, he had felt jealous and envious of the way she smiled at her friends—especially Andrew Lanchester.
She seemed so at ease with him, laughter lighting her eyes as she looked up at him. It had pained Justin to see the laughter fade as she met his own gaze. He had realised then that he had demanded too much, crushed her spirit, hurting her by his harshness when all he wanted was to hold her and kiss her, to lie with her as his wife.
‘It is all I want,’ Justin said and discarded his robe. He kneeled on the bed beside her, lifting her to help her out of the satin robe so that she lay naked amongst the sheets. Then he bent his head and began to kiss her breasts, caressing them with the tip of his tongue so that her nipples peaked and hardened. Lying beside her, he stroked the smooth arch of her back as he pulled her towards him. His hand moved down her thigh as he caressed and fondled her, his lips seeking hers in a long hungry kiss.
Lucinda did not flinch from him, though she did not reach out to caress him in return. Justin longed for her to touch and stroke him as he stroked her, but she lay quiescent, trembling a little in his arms as he loved her, though once or twice her lips parted on a sigh.
When his hand moved between her thighs she stilled, her eyes opening. He saw the fear she was trying to hide and he kissed her, moving his fingers slowly, gently, giving her time to discover that a man’s intimate touch could be pleasant rather than a humiliating punishment. Gradually, she relaxed again, a little sighing moan leaving her lips.
Lucinda would not deny him if he took her now, but despite his hunger and the burning need in his loins, Justin knew that if he took their loving all the way that night he might lose something precious. He wanted her to be eager for his touch and he suspected that she was nervous, steeling herself for what was to come, though determined not to refuse him. In his haste to make love to her he had neglected to consider her feelings sufficiently. Because of what had happened to Lucinda when she was sixteen he must take great care not to hurt her.
‘I believe we shall need a little longer to know each other,’ he said. ‘Tonight I shall pleasure you, but I shall not enter you, Lucinda. You must learn to trust me and welcome my touch before we become truly one.’
‘I do trust you,’ she said and pressed her face against his chest. ‘I’m sorry if I am a disappointment to you, Justin.’
‘Hush, my sweet. Do not weep. Let me show you that there is pleasure in loving and many ways to please the one you love.’
Lucinda lay looking up at him with wide eyes as he bent his head and began to kiss and caress her with tongue and lips and the sensitive tips of his fingers. As Justin kissed her breasts, her navel, licking delicately at the tender flesh between her thighs, and then the most secret centre of her femininity, she quivered and trembled, giving a little moaning cry. Yet still her hands lay unmoving by her sides and she did not touch him.
As she lay trembling in his arms, he saw tears on her cheeks.
‘Forgive me if I have distressed you. I wanted only to show you that it is not usually the way it was for you that night. I wanted to teach you how to find pleasure in the marriage bed.’
‘I wish I could be the shy virgin bride you wanted,’ she said in a muffled voice, her face against his shoulder. ‘I must be such a disappointment to you.’
‘No, my love, you are not,’ he said and drew her close to him, stroking her back. ‘Hush, Lucinda, do not weep. I am sorry. I should have waited until you were ready.’
‘I shall forget,’ she vowed, her words distorted because she had buried into his side like a little kitten seeking comfort. ‘I shall make you proud of me. I shall learn to be the wife you need.’
‘Go to sleep,’ he said and kissed her hair. ‘We shall do much better when you are used to me.’
Lucinda lay still beside him and after a while realised that he was sleeping. He had one arm over her, holding her to him, and she found that comforting, but she was afraid she had let him down yet again. Justin had been kind, but he needed more from her. Something she had not known how to give.
His kisses and his touch had made her feel that she wanted him to love her, but then she’d lain like a block of wood not knowing how to respond. Her father had called her a shameless hussy and her grandmother had ridiculed and beaten her for showing any emotion other than contrition.
Justin had been gentle and patient with her that night, but she knew he’d wanted something more from her. His touch had made her cry out, giving her an exquisite pleasure, but she had given him little in return. She sincerely wished to be a good wife and please him in all ways, but something inside her had held back, perhaps because she feared to be hurt, not so much physically but in other ways.
She loved Justin, wanted him to love her, but she knew she could not measure up to his high standards. He expected so much of her and she had failed him in every way.
If he discovered that she had lied to him about her daughter, if he knew that she had been visiting her daughter in the woods or guessed what she meant to do now, he would be so angry.
Lucinda lay sleepless as the first rays of dawn penetrated the crack in the curtains. It might be better if she took Angela and ran away again. Surely Justin would be relieved to be rid of a wife who could never be what he wanted? He might be angry or hurt for a time, but then he would be glad she’d gone; he would divorce her and marry again.
A little voice inside her urged her to leave before it was too late and her husband discovered what a wretch she was, yet she could not bear to leave him. She bent over him as he slept, her fingers itching to stroke his body as he had stroked hers. She had longed to touch him, to kiss him and tangle her legs about him as he gave her pleasure, but she was afraid that he might think her wanton. If she showed desire and need, Justin might think she was shameless, as her father had called her.
It might have been better had they never met. Tears trickled down her cheeks. She loved the man she had married and, as he kissed and caressed her so tenderly, giving so much and taking nothing, she had felt that he was once more that man. Her guilt at deceiving him was sharp. Justin did not deserve to be cheated and lied to—and that was what she was doing by bringing her bastard into his house.
If he discovered the truth, he would never forgive her.
Lucinda crept from the bed and went into the dressing room, where she put on a simple gown that fastened in front and needed no assistance from her maid. She looked back at Justin, who was still sleeping as she left the room, closing the door carefully behind her.
Trying not to feel guilty, Lucinda put her regrets from her mind. She must fetch Angela and Nanny before most of the servants were up and about. Once they were installed in the attics Alice could tell people that the child was Lucinda’s cousin’s. In time Justin might discover what she’d done, but perhaps he would believe the story.
‘She seemed a little better last night,’ Nanny said. ‘It was warmer, of course. I think once she is in a dry place she will soon begin to thrive. She has already begun to fill out, Lucinda—it is just her chest. The damp of this cottage does not suit her.’
‘The attic rooms I have found for you are warm and dry. When the nights are cold, perhaps I can move you into the nursery where you can have a fire.’
Nanny frowned at her. ‘You have not told your husband. Do you not think he will be angry when he discovers what you’ve hidden from him?’
‘Yes, I fear he may. It may be that we shall have to leave Avonlea and find somewhere else to live, but then we shall look for a small town and I shall take up the trade of seamstress. Justin has given me a generous allowance each month since our marriage, which is paid into a bank and I have hardly touched. I dare say he would not ask me to return it if we separated.’
Nanny shook her head doubtfully. ‘This is not like you, Lucinda. You have always been honest and candid in your dealings with others. I know you care for this man. It might break your heart to leave him.’
‘Would you have me abandon my child to others?’ Lucinda’s eyes pricked with tears. ‘I thought she had died at birth and I mourned her, though I had accepted it. When I first saw her—so pale and thin and ill treated, I could not bear it, Nanny. She was born of a cruel rape, but she was not to blame. Yes, it would break my heart to leave Justin, but he does not need me as Angela does.’
‘I cannot deny the child needs you. When she is well she plays happily enough for hours, but when she is feeling unwell she cries for you. I try to comfort her, but it is you she wants.’
‘We must go quickly,’ Lucinda said. ‘If we are swift, no one will know you are in the house for a while and perhaps I may persuade Justin to let me have my cousin’s child stay with us.’
‘You should ask him sooner rather than later,’ Nanny warned. ‘If he truly cares for you, I do not think he would tell you to abandon the child—but a decent house with servants and warm dry accommodation might be provided somewhere.’
‘Somewhere I would not be able to visit very often,’ Lucinda said and her head lifted, an expression of determination in her eyes. ‘If Justin cares for me, he should accept my child. I would have told him if he had been more reasonable at the start.’
‘Well, you know your heart best,’ Nanny said, but shook her head.
‘Bring your bundles and I shall carry Angela,’ Lucinda said and went up the cottage stairs to lift the sleeping child from her bed. Angela stirred and murmured something, but did not wake as she was carried down the stairs and out of the house.
Justin woke and slid his hand across the bed. Lucinda was not there and the sheets were cold. She must have risen some time earlier. Her perfume lingered and haunted him, but he wanted to find her warm soft body lying close to him, to make love to her again in that first luxuriously sleepy moment after waking. He knew that she was still nervous of the act of love, which was understandable after what had happened to her, but she had responded to his touch. Little did she know what it had cost him to refrain from taking his own pleasure of her. He was not sure how long he could control his need to bury himself in her sweet warmth, but perhaps she might be ready to accept him next time?
Rising, he went into the dressing room. She was not there, but he thought that a cloak she had left lying over a chair had gone. Where was she? It was not yet eight o’clock.
Had she gone for one of her long walks? He was thoughtful, edgy and frustrated as he went through his own dressing room into his bedchamber, his mind beginning to search for answers to so many questions. What did Lucinda do on her walks? She had mentioned meeting Andrew Lanchester on more than one occasion, but did she go to meet him or someone else? Did she have a lover? Was that why she had lain unresponsive, not rejecting his touch, seeming to welcome him and yet giving little of her inner self?
Justin had been patient with her. He did not wish to hurt her after the torment she must have endured the night she was raped. He had refrained from the final act because he wanted her to welcome him with no reserves. It would be wrong to force her when she was clearly not ready.
Perhaps he should have waited longer before attempting to make it a true marriage? Watching her at the ball had made him realise how much he wanted her, but he had expected too much. Women had always been eager and responsive to his touch, but Lucinda had suffered in a way that most could not contemplate.
He was a clumsy fool. If he wanted the shy trusting girl he had wed to return to him, he must be gentle with her. He must take his time, court her and make her love him again. He must curb his impatience and think of her needs, not his own, because he cared for her more than he’d realised. He’d been angry and harsh because he was disappointed in her lack of trust when she ran away. Now he must curb his temper and show his wife that he admired and cared for her; he must teach her to love him, but slowly and with infinite care.
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