Книга - The Scarlet Gown

The Scarlet Gown
Sarah Mallory


WHAT IS HE HIDING FROM HER?When impoverished Lucy Halbrook arrives at Lord Adversane’s estate, she knows her assignment is unusual – not only will she act as hostess at his Midsummer’s Eve play, she must also pretend to be his fiancée!What Lucy doesn’t know is that Ralph is hiding something dark and dangerous. He must uncover the truth behind his wife’s death – and Lucy is the key. But she challenges him at every turn, and as each day passes unlocks a little more of Ralph’s guarded heart…







WHAT IS HE HIDING FROM HER?

When impoverished Lucy Halbrook arrives at Lord Adversane’s estate she knows her assignment is unusual—not only will she act as hostess at his Midsummer’s Eve play, she must also pretend to be his fiancée!

What Lucy doesn’t know is that Ralph is hiding something dark and dangerous. He must uncover the truth behind his wife’s death—and Lucy is the key. She challenges him at every turn and, as each day passes, unlocks a little more of Ralph’s guarded heart….


‘Here—let me.’

Ralph dropped the horse’s reins so that he could use both hands to take the shawl and drape it around her shoulders.

‘Thank you. There are rain clouds on the horizon. I am glad we are back in time to avoid a soaking.’

She was laughing, completely unaware of how pretty she looked with her windswept curls rioting around her bare head and her skin glowing from the fresh air.

Kiss her.

She was knotting the ends of her shawl, oblivious of his hands hovering over her shoulders. He snatched his hands away as she turned her head to address him.

‘What say you, my lord? Will it last? Shall we be confined indoors by the inclement weather?’

She was peeping up at him through her lashes and he felt his blood stirring. It was unconsciously done, he would swear to it, but by God that look was inviting! With a silent oath he tore his eyes away from her. She was here for a purpose and he would not allow himself to be distracted.


AUTHOR NOTE

Some books start with a person—this one started with a title. THE SCARLET GOWN was always the premise for this romance: the idea of a man insisting a woman wear a specific gown. Why is it so important? Why would any woman do it? If you gave the same title and questions to twenty different authors I have no doubt you would get twenty very different stories: this is mine—a Regency romance.

As soon as I began weaving the story Lucy Halbrook came along, a spirited, independent young lady in need of employment. She travels far away from London to the country seat of Ralph, Lord Adversane, a man as hard and rugged as the Yorkshire moors that surround his house.

Ralph has his reasons for bringing Lucy to Adversane Hall and dictating the clothes she shall wear, but he is not used to sharing his thoughts with anyone. He is a man with secrets—a man who has forgotten how to laugh until Lucy comes into his life.

Ralph is interested in logic and science; Lucy is artistic and outspoken. It is inevitable that sparks will fly when they get together, and I hope you enjoy the fireworks!


The Scarlet Gown

Sarah Mallory




www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


To Cecilia and David.

Thank you for preserving the moor that inspired a large part of this story!


SARAH MALLORY was born in Bristol, and now lives in an old farmhouse on the edge of the Pennines with her husband and family. She left grammar school at sixteen to work in companies as varied as stockbrokers, marine engineers, insurance brokers, biscuit manufacturers and even a quarrying company. Her first book was published shortly after the birth of her daughter. She has published more than a dozen books under the pen-name of Melinda Hammond, winning the Reviewers’ Choice Award from singletitles.com (http://www.singletitles.com) for Dance for a Diamond and the Historical Novel Society’s Editors’ Choice for Gentlemen in Question. Sarah Mallory has also twice won the Romantic Novelists’ Association’s RONA Rose® Award for 2012 and 2013 for The Dangerous Lord Darrington and Beneath the Major’s Scars.

Previous novels by the same author:

THE WICKED BARON

MORE THAN A GOVERNESS

(part of On Mothering Sunday) WICKED CAPTAIN, WAYWARD WIFE THE EARL’S RUNAWAY BRIDE DISGRACE AND DESIRE TO CATCH A HUSBAND … SNOWBOUND WITH THE NOTORIOUS RAKE (part of An Improper Regency Christmas) THE DANGEROUS LORD DARRINGTON BENEATH THE MAJOR’S SCARS* BEHIND THE RAKE’S WICKED WAGER* BOUGHT FOR REVENGE LADY BENEATH THE VEIL** AT THE HIGHWAYMAN’S PLEASURE **

*The Notorious Coale Brothers **Linked by character

And in Mills & Boon


Undone!eBooks: THE TANTALISING MISS COALE*

And in M&B: THE ILLEGITIMATE MONTAGUE (part of Castonbury Park Regency mini-series)

Did you know that some of these novels are also available as eBooks?Visit www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


Contents

Chapter One (#ubf4bccdb-78bf-5ca6-9601-443e2dbcd7af)

Chapter Two (#u15d0f56a-cfb5-5564-bce5-55f2b10c0d53)

Chapter Three (#u911f14f3-757d-50ef-9645-a9811695d15b)

Chapter Four (#u6a40026f-2a0d-586c-adaf-2d972b0f176d)

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)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)


Chapter One

Mrs Killinghurst’s register office was well known as the saviour of many a gently bred young lady who had fallen upon hard times and needed to earn a living. Mrs Killinghurst specialised in finding employment for such young ladies as companions, governesses or even seamstresses, depending upon their accomplishments. Her offices occupied a suite of rooms above a hatter’s shop in Bond Street, and young ladies wishful of finding employment could slip along the narrow alley beside the shop and through the freshly painted doorway with its discreet brass plate.

Miss Lucy Halbrook had already made one visit to Mrs Killinghurst’s establishment and now, a fortnight later, she was returning to the office, as instructed by the proprietress herself, with high hopes of obtaining the gainful employment she so desperately needed. When her father had died twelve months ago Lucy had been prepared for life to change for herself and Mama, but it was only after the funeral that Lucy discovered just how poor they really were. They had been taken in by Mrs Halbrook’s invalid sister, but Lucy soon realised that although Mama had found a niche as nurse-companion to Mrs Edgeworth, she herself was constantly harassed by Mr Edgeworth. Lucy had always thought it a little odd that the female servants in her aunt’s house were all rather mature, but within days of moving in she knew the reason for it. She had so far managed to evade her uncle’s lascivious attentions but she must find somewhere else to live, and soon. If she was honest with herself, she also wanted a little more independence. Her father’s death had been painful, but her mother’s sudden revelation that they were penniless had been even harder to bear. They had never been rich, and it was not just their poverty, but the knowledge that Mama had kept the situation from her. And what of her father, a man she had adored? To find that he was not the hero she had thought him was a severe blow. If only they had told her. After all, it was not as if she was a child. Surely they could have trusted her with the truth when she reached her majority, three years ago? She might even have been able to help. By finding employment, for example, as she was doing now.

Lucy hurried along New Bond Street, dodging between the crowds of fashionable ladies and gentlemen who were taking advantage of the mild spring weather to stroll along, giving more attention to the shop windows than to where they were going. At last she reached the hatter’s and stepped quickly into the alley. It was darker than she had expected and it took her a moment to realise this was because someone was standing at the far end, blocking the light.

Her step faltered, but she pressed on. After all, Mrs Killinghurst was expecting her and she was not to be put off. She might wish she had worn a veil, but since there was no help for it, Lucy continued towards the door. The man—for it was undoubtedly a man—had apparently just emerged from Mrs Killinghurst’s door, so he was either looking for work or for someone to employ. The latter, she thought as her eyes grew accustomed to the shadows and she took in at a glance his coat of blue superfine, buckskin breeches and black boots. In fact, he might well have purchased his coat from Mr Weston’s hallowed portals in nearby Old Bond Street, for it fitted him perfectly with never a wrinkle to mar its elegance. His boots, too, shone with a smooth, highly polished gloss. The buckskins may well have been similarly free of creases, but Lucy had felt a frisson of something she did not quite understand when she had first observed the man and now she dared not let her eyes dwell on those muscular limbs.

Instead, she kept her head up, chin defiantly raised. She would not stare at the ground like some humble, subservient creature. Consequently she could not avoid at least one quick glance at the man’s face. It was rugged rather than handsome, black-browed and with a deep cleft in his chin. There was a latent strength about him that sat oddly with his fashionable dress—clearly he was no Bond Street Beau. Whatever his status, Lucy’s main concern was that he was blocking her way. His curly-brimmed hat almost brushed the roof of the alley and his broad shoulders filled the narrow space.

She observed all this in the time it took her to cover the short distance between them, and it struck her in the same instant that he was the most solid and immovable object she had ever encountered. She stopped, but refused to be intimidated and returned his direct gaze with a steady look. His grey eyes were curiously compelling and again she felt that tremor run through her. An odd, unfamiliar mixture of excitement and attraction that had her wanting to know more about this man and at the same time to turn around and run for her life.

Lucy quelled such feelings immediately. She was not the sort to run away from a problem—not that there had ever been many problems in her life until now. She realised a little sadly that her parents had protected her from the harsher realities of life. Perhaps a little too much. But all that was at an end. She must now stand up for herself and that meant not being intimidated by this solid wall of man standing in her way. She wondered if she was going to have to ask him to move, but at that moment he stepped back, pushing the door open with one hand.

Silently, Lucy sailed past him and up the stairs. She had the uncomfortable sensation that he was watching her ascent, for her spine tingled uncomfortably, but when she reached the landing and looked back there was no one below and the door was firmly shut.

* * *

An iron-haired woman was guarding the small reception room at the top of the stairs. She showed Lucy into Mrs Killinghurst’s office, invited her to remove her cloak and bonnet and sit down, then she shut the door upon her. Left alone, Lucy folded her cloak neatly and laid it on a chair then carefully placed her bonnet on top. There was no mirror in the room, so she could only put her hands up to make sure her soft brown hair was still neatly confined in a knot at the back of her head. She had put on the same high-necked gown she had worn for her first interview, a plain closed robe of pewter-coloured wool, and hoped she portrayed the modest, unassuming character that an employer would be looking for.

After a few moments alone, Lucy became prey to uncertainty. She thought over her previous visit, wondering if she had perhaps mistaken the day.

No, she had been sitting on this very chair, facing Mrs Killinghurst across the desk, exactly two weeks ago. Lucy had been encouraged by the lady’s businesslike air, and once she had explained her circumstances and answered a number of searching questions, the lady had risen and disappeared through a door at the back of the room. Some personal inner sanctum, thought Lucy, for she had glimpsed the carved and gilded edge of a picture frame. This had surprised her a little, for the walls of the office and the reception room were singularly bare of ornament, and Lucy had been puzzling over this when Mrs Killinghurst had returned, saying that, yes, she did think there was a suitable position for Lucy.

‘It is rather an unusual position but perfectly respectable, I assure you, and the remuneration is extremely generous, considering that it is only a temporary position. You will only be required for a short period—part of May and the whole of June. However, I need to ascertain from my client—that is—you will need to come back. Shall we say two weeks from today, at eleven o’clock?’

Lucy had agreed immediately. Another two weeks in her uncle’s house would be a trial, but she would manage, somehow. The date and time of the next meeting had been repeated and confirmed, Lucy remembered, with Mrs Killinghurst promising that she would then be in a position to explain the post in detail. Lucy had thanked her and prepared to leave, but now she recalled that at that point the proprietress had shown a diffidence that had not been apparent throughout the rest of their meeting.

‘Good day to you, Miss Halbrook and—my dear, should you find another post in the meantime I hope you will feel free to take it. A little note to me explaining the situation will suffice...’

Lucy had looked at her in surprise.

‘I assure you, Mrs Killinghurst, I am more than content to wait two weeks, unless perhaps you think there is some doubt about my suitability for the post you have in mind?’

‘Oh, no, no, I think you are eminently suitable.’ Thinking back, Lucy remembered the slightly anxious timbre of the lady’s voice, as if she regretted the circumstance. She had looked a little uncomfortable as she continued, ‘Of course, this post is by no means guaranteed, and if something else should come up I would be failing you if I did not advise you to accept it.’

‘But you do not have anything else to offer me?’

‘Well, no, not at present.’

Lucy had thought it an odd way to go about business, suggesting that she should look elsewhere for employment, but she guessed it was some sort of a test of her loyalty, and she had been quick to reassure Mrs Killinghurst that she would return in two weeks’ time at the agreed hour.

‘And here I am,’ she announced to the empty room. ‘Ready and waiting to know my fate.’

The rattle of the doorknob made her jump, and she wondered if someone had been listening, for at that moment the door to the inner sanctum opened, and Mrs Killinghurst came in, smiling and apologising for keeping Lucy waiting. She went to her desk and in her haste left the door slightly ajar.

‘Now then, Miss Halbrook, where were we?’ She sat down, pulling a sheaf of papers towards her. ‘Ah, yes. The character references I have received for you are excellent. As I mentioned when we last met, this is an unusual post. My client is looking for an accomplished young lady of gentle birth to spend some time at his house in the north.’

A movement from Lucy caused the lady to pause.

‘Excuse me, ma’am, but your client is a married gentleman, I assume?’

Mrs Killinghurst shook her head.

‘He is a widower, but quite respectable,’ she added quickly, a little too hastily perhaps.

Lucy felt her heart sinking. She decided she must speak frankly.

‘Mrs Killinghurst, is—is there anything, ah, questionable about this particular post?’

‘Oh, no, no, nothing like that! My client assures me that a chaperone will be provided, and you will be treated with the utmost respect during your stay. You are to live at the house, as his guest. And the remuneration is extremely generous.’

She mentioned a sum that made Lucy’s eyebrows fly up.

‘But I do not understand. Your, ah, client wishes to pay me to be a guest in his house?’

‘Yes.’

‘But, why?’

Mrs Killinghurst began to straighten the papers on her desk.

‘I believe he wishes you to be there as his hostess.’

Lucy’s disappointment was searing. For the past two weeks she had been looking forward to this meeting, speculating about the ‘lucrative post’ that Mrs Killinghurst had in mind. A governess, perhaps, or companion to some elderly and infirm lady, or even a gentleman. The temporary nature of the post had indicated that perhaps she was being engaged to make someone’s last months on this earth as comfortable as possible. Now she realised that her daydreams and speculation had been wildly inaccurate and naive. An unmarried man—even a widower—would not hire a hostess for any respectable purpose. Thoughts of Uncle Edgeworth and his wandering hands came to her mind.

She rose, saying coldly, ‘I am very sorry, Mrs Killinghurst, but this is not the kind of employment I envisaged. If you had only told me a little more about this post two weeks ago we might have saved ourselves a great deal of inconvenience.’

She had already turned to leave when she was halted by the sound of a deep, male voice behind her.

‘Perhaps, Mrs Killinghurst, you would allow me to explain to the young lady?’

Lucy whipped around. Standing in the doorway to the inner sanctum was the man she had seen below.

His solid form had filled the alleyway, but here in this small office he looked even more imposing. Mrs Killinghurst rose from her seat, but she barely reached his shoulder and only emphasised the man’s size. He had removed his hat to display his black hair, cut ruthlessly short, and his impassive countenance did nothing to dispel Lucy’s first impression of a stern, unyielding character.

She was aware of the latent power of the man. It was apparent in every line of his body, from the rough-hewn countenance, through those broad shoulders to his feet, planted firmly, slightly apart, as if he was ready to take on the world.

Ready to pounce on her. This man was dangerous, she was convinced of it, but some tiny, treacherous part of her found that danger very attractive.

Alarmed by her own reaction Lucy stepped back, one hand behind her feeling for the door handle.

‘I really do not think there is any need—’

‘Oh, but there is,’ he said. ‘You’ve waited two weeks to learn about this position; it would be a pity if you were to leave now without knowing just what it entailed, don’t you think?’ He spoke quietly, but with a natural authority that brooked no argument and when he invited her to return to her seat, Lucy found herself complying.

He indicated to Mrs Killinghurst that she should sit down and while the lady was settling herself Lucy made a mental note that if this stranger should try to get between her and the door to the reception area she would flee, however foolish and cowardly that might appear. Thankfully, though, the gentleman contented himself with moving to one side of the room where both ladies could see him. He nodded to Mrs Killinghurst.

‘Perhaps, ma’am, you would be good enough to introduce me.’

‘Yes, yes, of course. Miss Halbrook, this is Lord Adversane, my client.’

He bowed to Lucy, who was surprised at the elegance with which he performed this courtesy. For such a large man he had the lithe grace of a natural athlete. She inclined her head in acknowledgement, but remained silent, waiting to hear what he had to say.

‘Mrs Killinghurst has told you that I am in need of your services for my house in Yorkshire,’ he began. ‘Adversane is the largest estate and the most prominent house in the area. Since the death of my wife, I have lived there very quietly, but you will appreciate that this has had an adverse effect upon the neighbourhood since I am not employing so many staff, nor is the housekeeper ordering so much from the local tradesmen. I think it is time to open up the house again and invite guests—family and friends—to join me there. However, I require a hostess.’

Lucy nodded. ‘I understand that, my lord, but surely there is some lady within your family who would be more than willing to fulfil that role.’

A sardonic gleam lit his eyes.

‘Oh, yes, dozens of ’em!’

‘Then I do not see—’

‘The thing is,’ he interrupted her ruthlessly, ‘I have been a widower for nigh on two years now and my family and friends are all determined I should be much happier if I were to marry again. To this end they are constantly badgering me to find a wife.’ He paused for a moment. ‘What I am looking for, Miss Halbrook, is not only a hostess, but a fiancée.’

* * *

Lucy knew she was staring at him. She also knew that her mouth was open, but it was some moments before she could command her muscles to work so that she could close it. Lord Adversane continued as if he had said nothing out of the ordinary.

‘I have invited a number of guests to stay at Adversane for the summer and I need a young woman to pose as my future wife. She must have all the accomplishments of a young lady of good family and her reputation must be above reproach. From everything Mrs Killinghurst has told me, you are perfectly suited to fulfil this role.’

‘Thank you,’ Lucy responded with a touch of asperity. ‘Let me make sure I understand you. You wish to enact this...this charade to stop everyone, er, badgering you?’

‘Exactly.’

‘If you will forgive me for saying so, my lord, from the little I have seen of you I cannot believe that you would allow anyone to badger you!’

Ralph regarded the little figure before him and felt a stir of appreciation. The chit was dressed in a dowdy grey gown, demure as a nun, yet she was not afraid to voice her opinion or to meet his eyes with a challenging sparkle in her own. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

‘Ah, but then, you do not know my family.’ This was unanswerable, but clearly did not reassure the girl. He could tell she was seeking the words to decline gracefully and take her leave, so he added, ‘I realise this is not the post you were expecting to be offered, Miss Halbrook, but I have considered my dilemma and conclude that hiring a hostess is the best solution.’ How much more to tell her? He added, a shade of impatience in his voice, ‘I am an educated man. I have never yet found a problem that could not be solved by logic. Believe me, there is not the least risk to your person or your good name. Indeed, it is imperative that your stay at Adversane is perfectly respectable if we are to convince everyone that the engagement is genuine. When the time comes to part I shall make sure it is understood that the decision was yours—you may be assured that those who know me will not find that at all surprising—and you will walk away with enough money to allow you to live in comfort and style for at least the next year. A handsome remuneration for less than two months’ work.’ He paused. ‘So, Miss Halbrook, what do you say?’

* * *

Preposterous. Outrageous. Not to be considered.

These were the first words that came to Lucy’s mind, but she did not utter them. Her situation, living in her uncle’s house, was not comfortable. To spend six weeks as the guest of Lord Adversane, no doubt living very luxuriously, would not be a hardship, and with the money she earned she would not need to rush into another post for some time. In fact, she might even be able to invest the money—in a shop, say, or a little school—and provide herself with an income. She might even be able to travel. She forced her gaze away from those compelling grey eyes and addressed Mrs Killinghurst.

‘You can assure me there is nothing untoward in this?’

‘Nothing at all, Miss Halbrook. It is unusual, but you may be sure I looked into the matter thoroughly before I accepted Lord Adversane’s commission. After all, I have my own reputation and that of my business to consider.’ Mrs Killinghurst tapped the paper on the desk in front of her. ‘The contract is drawn up, which will make everything legally binding. All that is required is your signature.’

Lucy hesitated. The offer was very tempting, and neither Mrs Killinghurst nor the advertisements she had scanned in the newspaper could offer anything else. And what choice did she have? Her uncle’s attentions were becoming more persistent and it could only be a matter of time before her aunt and her mother became aware of a situation which Lucy knew would distress them greatly.

‘Very well,’ she said. ‘I will do it.’

* * *

Ralph watched in silence as she came to the desk to sign the contract. A slight doubt shook him. Perhaps it would have been better to hire an actress to play the role he had envisaged, but the danger of being found out would be that much greater, and the matter was too important to take that risk. He would not put it past his family to investigate his supposed fiancée’s background.

No, overall Mrs Killinghurst had succeeded very well. Miss Lucy Halbrook was everything he required and her breeding was impeccable, his family would find no fault there. She was not quite as tall as he had hoped, and her hair was not guinea-gold but a soft honey-brown. She also had rather more spirit than he had expected and he found himself wanting to tease her, to bring that sparkle to her eyes. He would have to be careful about that. He had been brought up to believe a gentleman should not flirt with a lady under his protection. However, he needed someone who could fulfil the role he had in mind convincingly, so she needed to be at least moderately attractive, and beneath that dowdy gown Miss Halbrook’s figure looked to be good. His eyes dwelled on the rounded bottom displayed beneath the grey folds as she bent over the desk to sign her name. It might even be very good.

He quickly suppressed that line of thought. The woman was being hired for a specific purpose and that did not include dalliance, however enjoyable that might be. No, his reasons for taking her to Adversane were much more serious than that. Deadly serious.


Chapter Two

Lord Adversane insisted upon sending his luxurious carriage to carry Lucy to the north country. She had never travelled in such style, and as the elegant equipage bowled out of London she was forced to admit that there was something to be said for being betrothed to a rich man.

Two weeks had passed since that second visit to Mrs Killinghurst’s registry office. Lucy had signed her contract and stepped back into New Bond Street with a thick roll of banknotes in her reticule, her new employer requesting her to buy whatever was necessary for her journey to Adversane. He had also given her the name of a very exclusive modiste and told her she might order anything she wished and have it charged to his account.

Lucy had felt compelled to question this.

‘Forgive me, but if your wife is—that is, if you have been a widower for two years, will you still have an account?’

‘Oh, my wife never bought anything from Celeste.’

Lucy had blushed hotly at the implication of his careless response, and had immediately given him back his card. He had grinned at that, giving Lucy the unsettling feeling that he was teasing her.

‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘There is a very good dressmaker near Adversane who will provide you with everything you need for the duration of your stay. I shall arrange for her to call on you once you are settled in.’

Recalling the incident, she wondered again if she had been wise to accept employment with a stranger and in a house so far away from everyone and everything she knew. She had looked out her uncle’s copy of The New Peerage and learned that Ralph Adversane was the fifth baron, that he owned several properties, his principal seat being Adversane Hall, in Yorkshire. There was no mention of a wife, but she knew this edition of the Peerage was at least five years old, so presumably the marriage had taken place after that date.

Discreet enquiries of her family had brought forth very little information. Her aunt, who was an avid reader of the Court and Society pages, admitted she had heard of Lord Adversane, but it appeared he was an infrequent visitor to London, or at least, thought Lucy, to those circles that warranted a mention in the newspapers, even if he was well known in less respectable circles, whose ladies patronised a certain expensive modiste. She must therefore trust to Mrs Killinghurst’s assurance that she made thorough enquiries into the veracity of every client who came to her.

However, just as a precaution, Lucy had kept back some of the money Lord Adversane had given her and stitched it into the hem of her cloak. It was not a lot, but sufficient to pay for her journey back to London, and knowing that she had a means of escape should she need it, she now settled back against the comfortable squabs of the travelling carriage and prepared to enjoy herself.

* * *

Lord Adversane was waiting for her when she arrived at his country seat. He was dressed very much as she had last seen him, in blue coat and buckskins, and as the coach drew up on the sweeping drive he strode across to open the door and hand her down.

‘Welcome, Miss Halbrook. How was your journey?’

‘Extremely entertaining.’ Lucy gave a little gurgle of laughter at his look of surprise, her head still buzzing with the excitement of all the new sights and sounds she had experienced. ‘I have never before been farther north than Hertfordshire, you see, so it was an adventure. Of course, I doubt I would have enjoyed it so much if it had not been undertaken in a fast and comfortable vehicle, with your servants to take care of everything for me, and overnight stops arranged at the very best coaching inns. I am very grateful to you for your solicitude, my lord.’

‘I could do nothing less for my future wife.’

Lucy blushed, but quickly realised that his words were for the benefit of the servants, as was the kiss he bestowed upon her fingers. After all, if this charade was to work then everyone must believe it.

Collecting her thoughts, she stood for a moment looking up at the house. It was a very large building in the Jacobean style with stone transom and mullion windows set between diapered red brickwork. Her first impression was that it had a frowning aspect, but she put this down to the overcast day and the fact that they were standing on the drive and the house appeared to tower over them. Her eyes moved to the stone pediment above the entrance, which framed an intricately carved cartouche.

‘The Adversane coat of arms,’ he said, following her glance. ‘The house was built for the first Baron Adversane at the time of the Restoration.’

Still buzzing with the excitement of the journey, Lucy could not resist giving voice to a mischievous thought.

‘And will the shades of your illustrious ancestors approve of me?’

‘I have no idea. Shall we go in?’

Chastened by his stony retort, Lucy allowed him to escort her into the house. The butler was waiting for them in the entrance passage with a line of servants, all of whom bowed or curtseyed as Lord Adversane led her past them.

‘Byrne will not introduce them to you today,’ he said as he took her into the Great Hall. ‘You are here ostensibly as a guest, but of course they all know we are betrothed because I mentioned it to my cousin in front of the housekeeper. Come along and meet her. She is waiting in the drawing room.’

‘The housekeeper?’ asked Lucy, suddenly quite daunted by the grandeur of her surroundings.

‘My cousin, Mrs Dean.’

There was no mistaking the impatience in his voice, and Lucy gave herself a mental shake. It was too late now for second thoughts. She must concentrate upon her new role.

* * *

Ralph swore silently, ashamed of his own ill humour. Perhaps it was understandable that he should be on edge, knowing how important it was that the girl fulfil her role to perfection, but surely he did not need to be quite so serious? He gave an inward sigh. How long had it been since anyone had teased him? Even his sisters rarely did so now. Since Helene’s death they had treated him with more sympathy than he deserved. After all it was not as if he had loved his wife. He had cared for her, yes, but the strain of living with such a nervous, timid creature, of watching his every utterance, curbing every impatient remark, had taken its toll. He had forgotten what it was like to laugh...

He escorted Miss Halbrook into the drawing room where his cousin was busy filling a teapot from a spirit kettle.

‘Ah, there you are, Ralph. And this must be our guest.’ Ariadne carefully set down the teapot and came forwards to greet them. As she approached she fixed her rather myopic gaze upon Lucy, frowned a little then turned a puzzled look upon him. He spoke quickly, before she could voice her thoughts.

‘It is indeed, Cousin.’ He added quietly, ‘I thought it best to tell Mrs Dean the truth, Miss Halbrook. She will introduce you to everyone as a young friend who is spending a few weeks with her, but in reality everyone will believe that you are my fiancée, is that not so, Cousin?’

He was relieved to see Ariadne’s frown clear as she took Miss Halbrook’s hands.

Lucy. He must get used to calling her Lucy.

‘Oh, indeed. You know how quickly gossip spreads in the country, my dear. Now, before we go any further I should tell you that I am so pleased my cousin has asked me to help him with this.’

He smiled. ‘I persuaded Ariadne to leave her comfortable little house in Bath and join me for the summer.’

‘There is very little persuasion needed to bring me to Adversane, Cousin, and you know it.’ Mrs Dean chuckled. She pulled Lucy close and kissed her cheek. ‘Welcome, my dear. Ralph has indeed told me all about it, although I really do not see—but there, it will be a pleasure to have this house filled with people again.’

Lucy relaxed in the face of such a friendly welcome. Mrs Dean led her over to a sofa and gently pushed her down onto the seat, chattering all the time.

‘Now, my dear, I have prepared some tea, if you would like it. I find it very restorative after a long journey. You have come all the way from London, Ralph tells me—more than two hundred miles! You must be exhausted.’

‘In which case brandy might be more appropriate,’ put in Lord Adversane.

Lucy ignored him. He had snubbed her once already, so she would not risk responding to his remark.

‘Tea would be very welcome, Mrs Dean, thank you.’

‘Oh, do call me Ariadne, my dear. And I shall address you as Lucy, if you will allow me.’

‘Gladly.’ She glanced around to make sure they were alone. ‘Is it safe to talk in here?’

‘Perfectly, as long as we do not raise our voices.’ Lord Adversane poured himself a glass of brandy from the decanter on the sideboard and took a seat opposite the sofa. He said conversationally, ‘What do you want to talk about?’

‘I should have thought that was obvious,’ she retorted. ‘We have not had the opportunity to discuss my story. We will need to agree on the particulars, if I am to be at all convincing.’

He sat back in his chair and stretched out his legs, crossing one booted foot over the other.

‘It would be sensible to keep as close to the truth as possible. There is no need for false names or imaginary families. We met in London, but our betrothal has not yet been made public because you have been in mourning for your father—’

‘How do you know that?’

‘Mrs Killinghurst apprised me of all your details, naturally.’

‘Naturally.’ She eyed him with growing resentment. ‘You appear to know everything about me, my lord.’

‘Not everything, Miss Halbrook.’ There was a sardonic gleam in his hard, grey eyes as they rested upon her. So he was amusing himself at her expense, yet her light-hearted comments had met with a chilly rebuff. She put up her chin.

‘I know no more of you than I have been able to discover from The Peerage,’ she told him. ‘I am ill prepared for this role.’

He waved a dismissive hand. ‘We have three weeks before the first house guests arrive. Time enough to get to know one another. It will be my pleasure to tell you anything you wish to know.’

His very reasonable response made Lucy grind her teeth, but she swallowed her irritation and tried to match his cool tone.

‘Perhaps the first thing we need to ascertain is why my mother did not accompany me on this visit.’

‘If we are keeping to the truth, then you have not told her about me. She thinks you have been employed as companion to some elderly invalid, is that not correct?’

‘Well, well, yes, that is what we agreed I would tell her—’

‘And it gave you the excuse to remove yourself from your uncle’s unwelcome attentions.’

‘I never told Mrs Killinghurst that,’ Lucy retorted, her face flaming.

Mrs Dean gave a little tut and busied herself with the tea tray, but Lord Adversane merely shrugged.

‘It is the truth, is it not? I made a few enquiries of my own before engaging you, Miss Halbrook, and what I learned of Silas Edgeworth did not lead me to think he would be able to keep his hands off a pretty young girl living beneath his roof.’

‘Ralph, you are putting Miss Halbrook to the blush,’ Mrs Dean reprimanded him in her gentle way. She handed Lucy a cup of tea. ‘You may be sure there will be nothing like that going on at Adversane, my dear. My cousin may have hired you to prevent his family from importuning him, but his reasons for inviting me to act as your chaperone are to make sure that your stay here is not marred by any impropriety.’ She rose. ‘Now, if you will excuse me for a moment, I must go and check that your trunks have been carried upstairs and everything is as it should be.’

With a vague smile she bustled off, leaving Lucy alone with Lord Adversane. There was an uneasy silence as the door closed behind her. Lucy’s glance slid to her host.

‘I know,’ he said, a measure of understanding softening his hard eyes. ‘She tells you there will be no indecorum here, then promptly leaves us alone. I’m afraid you will have to accustom yourself to it. We are supposed to be engaged, you know.’

‘Yes, of course.’

‘If I have made you uncomfortable then I am sorry for it.’

His blunt apology surprised her. She put down her cup and, to cover her agitation, she raised her eyes to the fireplace. ‘The overmantel is very finely carved. Grinling Gibbons?’

‘Yes. My ancestor paid him the princely sum of forty pounds for it. Heaven knows what it would cost today.’

‘If you could find someone skilled enough to do it,’ she replied. ‘My father was an artist, but of course Mrs Killinghurst will have told you. He was a great admirer of the old masters like Gibbons.’

‘I am aware of that. And I knew your father.’ Her brows went up and he explained. ‘At Somerset House. It is the home of the Royal Society as well as the Royal Academy. We met there once or twice when I was attending lectures. My condolences for your loss.’

The words were spoken in a matter-of-fact tone, but Lucy felt the tears prickle at the back of her eyes. Rather than show any weakness she rose and went across to the window, where she stood looking out at the fine prospect, although she saw little of it, her thoughts going back to happier times.

‘Papa used to take me to his studio sometimes, and encourage me to try my hand at painting.’

‘There are many fine views at Adversane for you to capture.’

‘I brought my sketchbook with the intention of doing just that, but as for painting—I enjoy working in oils and watercolours but I do not have Papa’s gift. When I was a child I loved best to curl up in a chair and watch him at work. He had a passion for the picturesque. Vast, dramatic landscapes.’ She thought of the hills and valleys she had seen on her journey. How her father would have loved them. She gave a little shrug. ‘But everyone wanted portraits.’

‘From the work of your father’s I have seen he was very good and in demand.’

‘You wonder, then, why it is I need to earn a living.’ Lucy bit her lip. She had never spoken of this to anyone, but now felt a need to explain. ‘He drank to excess. And gambled. I only discovered the truth after his death. With his talent, the money he earned might have paid for one or other of those vices and still allowed him to provide for his family, but together...’

‘Disastrous,’ he said bluntly. ‘And your mother, did she—was it an arranged marriage?’

‘Yes. She had a large dowry. He was a younger son, you see, and needed to marry well. Unfortunately the settlements were badly drawn up and very little was secured upon her. The money was all spent years ago.’

The room seemed to grow a little darker. The cloud outside the window had thickened and a blustery wind agitated the trees, threatening rain. She turned and came back to the sofa, throwing off her melancholy to say brightly, ‘For all that they were very much in love.’

So much so that they united to keep me in ignorance of our poverty.

The swift, unbidden thought twisted like a knife in her ribs.

* * *

Ralph saw the sudden crease in her brow and the way she folded her arms across her stomach, as if to defend herself. But from what? Her parents’ happiness? Not all arranged marriages ended in love, as he knew to his cost. Bitterness made him reply more curtly than he intended.

‘They were very fortunate, then.’ Her eyes were upon him, questioning, but he did not wish to explain himself. He looked up with relief as the door opened. ‘And here is Ariadne returned. I take it the rooms are in readiness for our guest, Cousin?’ He rose, glad of the opportunity to get away. This young woman unsettled him. ‘If you will excuse me, I have business that requires my attention. Until dinnertime, Miss Halbrook.’

* * *

Mrs Dean escorted Lucy to her room, talking all the way. She was very knowledgeable about the house and by the time they reached the upper floor Lucy knew its history, including the improvements made by the fourth baron, Ralph’s father. Lucy let the lady’s chatter flow over her while she tried to take in the stunning beauty of the interior. Baroque carvings and plasterwork vied for her attention with dozens of magnificent paintings.

‘And here we are in the Long Gallery,’ said Mrs Dean, puffing slightly from having talked all the way up the stairs. ‘The principal bedchambers lead off the corridor just along here and at the end of the gallery is the passage to the east wing, where all the guests will be accommodated.’

‘I have never seen such splendid interiors,’ remarked Lucy. She stopped to watch two servants carefully hanging a large painting upon the far wall, while a third stood back and directed them as to the correct alignment. ‘Has Lord Adversane made a new purchase?’

‘No, no, it is not new. I suppose my cousin thought it would look better here.’

Lucy regarded the painting with some surprise. It was a dark and rather nondescript view of some classical ruins, and looked out of place amongst the portraits of past barons and their wives. Mrs Dean touched her arm.

‘Shall we go on?’ She led the way into a dim corridor running parallel to the gallery and threw open a door at one end. ‘The two main bedrooms are here. You will be occupying the mistress’s bedchamber—’

‘Oh, but I do not think I should!’

Lucy stopped in the doorway, but Mrs Dean urged her to enter.

‘Lord Adversane thought it necessary,’ she said, closing the door behind them. ‘If my cousin truly intended to make you his wife then this is the apartment he would choose for you.’

Lucy’s reluctance must have shown clearly on her face, for Mrs Dean smiled and patted her arm.

‘You need have no fear of impropriety, my dear. Believe me, Adversane was not at all happy about putting you in his wife’s room, but he knows it must be so, if his family are to believe he is serious about marrying you. There is a dressing room through that door where your maid will sleep—he has appointed one for you, of course. She has already unpacked your trunk, you see, and has probably gone off to fetch your hot water.’

Lucy made no further protest, and when Mrs Dean left her she wandered around the room, taking in her surroundings. The furniture was dark and heavy, the huge tester bed hung with faded brocade and while the walls were covered in a pretty Chinese wallpaper it was of no very recent date. In fact, there was nothing new in the room at all, and nothing to give any clue to the character of the last occupant. The brushes resting on the dressing table were Lucy’s and the linen press held only the meagre supply of clothes she had brought with her. All the other drawers and cupboards were quite empty. One part of her was relieved, for she would have felt even more of an impostor if the chamber had been redolent of the late Lady Adversane. As it was, there was nothing to say this was not a guest room, albeit a very grand one.

Knowing it would be sensible to rest before the dinner hour, Lucy stretched herself on the bed, determined to go over all the questions she wished to put to her host when they met again, but within a very few minutes she was sound asleep.

She awoke when the door to her room opened and a shy, breathless voice said, ‘Ooh, ma’am, I’m didn’t mean to disturb you, but Mrs Green says its time I brought up your hot water and made you ready to go down to dinner—’

‘That is quite all right.’ Lucy sat up, stretching. ‘You are to be my maid, I take it?’

‘Aye, ma’am—miss.’

‘And who is Mrs Green?’

‘The housekeeper, miss. She sent me up.’ The young girl put down the heavy jug on the wash stand and bobbed a curtsey. ‘And I am Ruthie, miss, if you please.’

‘Well, Ruthie, perhaps you would help me out of this gown.’ Lucy slid off the bed. ‘I am afraid it is sadly crumpled and not a little grubby. I have been travelling in it for days.’

‘I know, miss. From London,’ said Ruthie triumphantly as she unfastened Lucy’s travelling dress and laid it over a chair. ‘Everyone’s that pleased to see you. Mrs Green says the house has been too long without a mistress.’

‘Oh, but I am not—’

Lucy’s involuntary exclamation had the effect of making the maid jump back, her hands clasped nervously in front of her.

‘Ooh, miss, I’m that sorry, I forgot we wasn’t meant to say anything!’

Lucy gazed in some dismay at the maid’s woebegone face. So word had spread, just as Adversane had planned. She nodded and said gently, ‘Well, do not mention it again. Now, I think I saw my green gown in the press, perhaps you will lay that out for me.’

It was her only evening gown, a plain robe of French cambric with puff sleeves and a modest neckline. Lucy thought it would look very dull against the splendid interiors of the house, but it was all she had and it would have to do.

* * *

Lucy found her new maid very willing and eager to help. Ruthie carried away Lucy’s travelling gown and half-boots, promising to clean them up as good as new, then came hurrying back, determined to help Lucy to dress for dinner. Her enthusiasm was endearing, but Lucy was a little reluctant to let her do more than brush out her hair.

‘Oh, but I can do it, miss,’ said Ruthie, as Lucy sat before the looking glass. ‘Lady Adversane’s maid showed me how to dress hair in several styles. O’course that were a couple of years ago now, but I’m sure I can remember.’

Lucy glanced at the little clock. There was plenty of time to brush it all out and start again, if necessary.

‘Very well, let us see what you can do,’ she said, smiling. ‘All I wish this evening is for you to put it up in a simple knot.’

Ruthie’s face fell. ‘No ringlets, miss?’

‘No ringlets.’

The young maid looked a little disappointed, but she set about her task with a will.

‘You were training to be a lady’s maid?’ asked Lucy as Ruthie concentrated on unpinning and brushing out each shining lock.

‘Oh, aye, miss, I was. Lady Adversane’s maid broke her arm, you see, so Mrs Green sent me up to help her.’ She gave a gusty sigh. ‘Oh, my lady was so pretty, with her golden curls and blue, blue eyes, like the china doll they keep in the nursery! It was such a pleasure to dress her. I learned such a lot from Miss Crimplesham, too—that was my lady’s maid, you see—she was a tough old stick, and all the servants was a bit in awe of her, even Mrs Green, but she wasn’t so bad when you got to know her, and so devoted to my lady.’

She paused to look at the honey-brown curls that cascaded over Lucy’s shoulders. Lucy knew she should reprimand the maid for chattering, but she was amused by her artless talk and besides, for one accustomed to looking after herself, it was so very pleasant merely to sit quietly and have someone fuss over her.

‘I was hoping that my lady would give me a reference,’ Ruthie continued, beginning to gather up the heavy locks again. ‘So I could become a proper lady’s maid, but then of course there were that terrible accident.’

‘Accident?’ Lucy met her maid’s eyes in the mirror. ‘You mean Lady Adversane?’

‘Yes, miss. She fell to her death, from Druids Rock.’

‘Oh, heavens.’

Lucy had been wondering how Lady Adversane had died. She had decided she would ask Mrs Dean at some point, for she did not think she would be able to pluck up the courage to ask Lord Adversane.

She said slowly, ‘How tragic. When did it happen?’

‘Two years ago, on Midsummer’s Eve.’ Ruthie nodded, her eyes wide. ‘Oh, ’twas perfectly dreadful, miss! They found her the next morning, dashed to pieces at the foot of the crag. I thought they’d all blame me, at first, for letting her go out alone, You see, I’d fallen asleep in my chair waiting for her to come up to bed.’

‘I am sure it was in no way your fault,’ Lucy told her.

‘No, that’s what Miss Crimplesham said. In fact, she was more inclined to blame herself. In a dreadful state she was, crying and saying she should’ve waited up for her mistress, but how could she undress her with her broken arm? No, we had a house full of guests, you see, and that night the players had come up from Ingleston to perform, and then after supper there was dancing far into the night, so it was very late before everyone went to bed. Only my lady didn’t come upstairs but went off to see the sunrise, as she often did. Only this time she didn’t wait to change her shoes and her thin little slippers wouldn’t grip on the rock and she slipped and fell to her death.’ The youthful face reflected in the mirror looked sad for a moment, then brightened. ‘And now you’re here, perhaps you’ll keep me on as your maid, miss.’ Ruthie placed the final pin into the topknot and stood back to cast a last, critical look at her handiwork. ‘I’m sure I can pick it up very quickly.’

Lucy smiled. ‘Have you not learned enough yet, then?’

‘Oh, no, not by a long chalk. Miss Crimplesham said it would be months before I had learned enough to even think of offering myself as lady’s maid. She’d started as my lady’s nurse—called her “my baby”, she did—and had spent years learning how to look after her, so even if Lady Adversane hadn’t been dashed to pieces that night it wouldn’t have done no good, for there wouldn’t be time for Miss Crimplesham to teach me everything before they went away.’ Lucy might have thought nothing of this artless speech, if Ruthie hadn’t dropped her hairbrush and stared aghast into the mirror. ‘Ooh, miss, I shouldn’t’ve said that. No one was meant to know. My lady said it was a secret.’

Lucy held her eyes in the mirror.

‘Are you saying,’ she spoke slowly, carefully, ‘that Lady Adversane was planning to...to run away?’

‘Yes—no!’ Ruthie’s face crumpled. ‘Miss Crimplesham said I wasn’t to tell no one. She was that angry when she found out my lady had let it slip. Said I should be turned off if I breathed a word of it, and I haven’t, miss. I haven’t said nothing until today, but I got so carried away, pinning up your hair and enjoying myself so much that it just came out.’ As Lucy swivelled around on the stool to face her, the girl fell to her knees, sobbing. ‘Pray, don’t tell the master, miss! He’ll be so angry that he’ll turn me off for sure. I’ll be sent off without a character and I’ll never get another position, not even as scullery maid!’

‘I promise I shall not tell anyone,’ Lucy assured her. She handed the maid one of her own handkerchiefs and bade her dry her eyes. It behoved her now to send the girl away, but instead she said quietly, ‘It was an arranged marriage, perhaps.’

‘Yes.’ The muffled affirmative was followed by Ruthie blowing her nose very loudly. ‘Only M-Miss Crimplesham said her mistress was very unhappy. And once my lady had determined to run away then she had no choice but to go with her, to look after her.’ Lucy’s thoughts raced, and as if reading them Ruthie continued. ‘My lady never loved the master—well, who could? He is so stern and cold, and when he’s angry...’ She shuddered. ‘He frightens me, and I’m not a beautiful, delicate little flower like my lady was.’

‘And what happened to Miss Crimplesham after the accident?’

‘She went back to my lady’s family. They have another daughter, you see, so she’s gone to be her maid now.’ Ruthie sighed. ‘And I became second housemaid again. And I suppose I shall have to go back to that now.’ She fixed Lucy with an imploring gaze. ‘Only pray don’t tell Mrs Green why you are displeased with me—’

‘I have no intention of turning you away,’ Lucy told her, patting her hands. ‘From what I have seen of you so far you have the makings of an excellent lady’s maid, only you will have to learn to curb that runaway tongue of yours.’

‘I swear to you, miss, I haven’t said a word to a soul before today—’

‘Very well then, we will forget everything that has been said, if you please. Now, you had best remain here until you look a little less distressed. Then go downstairs and have your own dinner. And remember, a good lady’s maid must learn to be discreet!’

‘Yes, miss, thank you.’ Ruthie bobbed another curtsey, then impulsively clutched at Lucy’s hand and kissed it. ‘I’ll never open my mouth again, I promise you.’

Lucy went off, leaving the girl happily tidying her room. She doubted that such a chatterbox could ever be totally relied upon not to gossip, but that did not worry Lucy overmuch. The girl’s services would suit her very well for the duration of her stay.

* * *

Lucy made her way downstairs and found the drawing room deserted. She supposed Ariadne and Lord Adversane must still be in their rooms, changing for dinner, and rather than sit and wait, she decided to explore a little. She soon found the dining room, situated on the far side of the entrance passage. The servants were there, setting the table for dinner, and when they saw her they all stopped to bow or curtsey, which made her retreat hurriedly. Another door opened on to a pretty chamber that she guessed might be the morning room, since its windows faced east. The next door she tried opened onto a room lined with bookcases. At first she thought it was the library, but then she realised it must be Lord Adversane’s study, and the man himself was present. He was standing before the window but turned as he heard the door open.

‘Oh.’ Lucy stopped in the doorway. ‘I did not mean to disturb you.’ She tried a little smile. ‘I was exploring...’

‘Come in, Miss Halbrook. You find me examining a new acquisition.’ He stepped aside to reveal a narrow table standing before the window, and on it a strange device consisting of a brass tube fixed to a mahogany base. ‘My new microscope.’

‘Is that what it is?’ She came farther into the room. ‘I have read about them, and heard of Hooke’s masterful book full of the drawings he made using a microscope to enlarge the tiniest creatures, but I have never seen one.’

‘Then come now and look.’ He beckoned to her to approach. ‘Fix your eye over the eyepiece, the mirror at the base will direct the light onto the slide. Now, tell me what you see.’

‘Something quite...monstrous.’ She took her eye away from the microscope and peered at the tiny object in the slide. ‘Is that what I am seeing—is it a beetle’s head?’

‘Yes. Magnified about a hundred times.’

‘But that is quite astounding.’ She studied it again for a few moments.

‘And there are others,’ said Lord Adversane. ‘Look here, this is a flea...’

Lucy was entranced as he positioned one slide after another for her to study.

‘But that is quite marvellous, my lord,’ she exclaimed. ‘I had no idea one could see so much. Why, one might look at anything, a hair from my head, for example!’

She straightened, laughing at the thought, and found Lord Adversane standing very close. Too close. Her mouth dried, she dared not raise her eyes higher than his shirt front. Once again she had the impression of standing before a solid wall, only the slight rise and fall of the snowy linen above his immaculate waistcoat told her this was a living, breathing man. A sudden hot blush spread through her body and all coherent thought disappeared.

* * *

Ralph swallowed. Hard. He was shaken to find how much he wanted to reach out and drag the young woman before him into his arms. She had shown such enthusiasm for the microscope, had asked intelligent questions and he had been enjoying sharing his knowledge with her, so that the sudden rush of lustful thoughts that now crowded into his head was quite inexplicable. And the hectic flush on her cheeks only heightened his desire to kiss her.

The air around them was charged with danger. She remained motionless before him in a way that suggested she, too, could feel it. He was powerless to move away and stood looking down at her, wondering what she found so fascinating about his neck cloth. The distant chiming of the long-case clock in the hall broke the spell. She glanced up, a look of fearful bewilderment in her green eyes.

Hell and confound it. This should not have happened!

Ralph knew it was his duty to put her at her ease, if he could. Turning aside, he drew out his watch.

‘It is getting late. Ariadne will be in the drawing room by now and I must change for dinner.’

‘Yes.’ Her voice was quiet. She sounded dazed. ‘I beg your pardon for delaying you—’

‘There is no need. I enjoyed showing you the microscope. I will look out more specimens for you, if you are interested.’

‘Thank you, yes, I would very much like—that is...perhaps.’ With a faint smile and a muttered ‘Excuse me’ she hurried away.

Ralph closed his eyes. Good Lord, what was he about, offering to show her more slides? Surely he should avoid putting them in this situation again. But it would not be the same, he argued. She had taken him by surprise. Next time he would be prepared. After all, he was not the sort to lose his head over any woman.


Chapter Three

Lucy did not go directly to the drawing room. Instead, she went back to her bedchamber and splashed her cheeks with water from the jug on the washstand. Lord Adversane had said earlier that she would have to get used to being alone with him, since they were supposed to be engaged, but just then, in the study, she had felt a profound sense of danger in his presence. She wiped her cheeks and considered the matter. He had said nothing, done nothing that could be construed as improper, yet just having him stand so close had raised her temperature and set her heart thumping in the most alarming manner.

‘He is so, so male,’ she said aloud, and almost laughed at her foolishness.

Lord Adversane had no interest in her at all, save as an employee. She must never forget that. She tidied her hair, shook out her skirts and went downstairs again to find Ariadne waiting for her in the drawing room.

‘Ah, there you are, my dear. Ralph has just this minute gone up to change, so we have plenty of time to get to know one another, and I know you are anxious to be well versed in your role. I agree that it is most important if you are to convince everyone it is for real. Now, what would you like me to tell you first?’

Lucy recalled Ruthie’s earlier disclosures.

‘I am naturally curious to know a little more about Lady Adversane,’ she explained, ‘but I am loath to mention such a delicate subject to my host.’

‘Oh, I quite understand, my dear. One does not want to open old wounds, and Ralph was quite devoted to her, you know.’ She signalled to Lucy to sit beside her on the sofa.

‘How long were they married?’ asked Lucy.

‘Less than twelve months.’ Mrs Dean sighed. ‘They met at Harrogate in the spring and were married before the year was out. I believe that as soon as he saw her, Ralph was determined to make Helene his wife.’

‘So it was not an arranged marriage.’ Lucy felt a little lightening of her anxiety. Perhaps Ruthie had embellished her story out of all proportion. She knew that old retainers could be very jealous of their charges, and it was very likely that Miss Crimplesham had not wished to acknowledge her mistress’s affection for her new husband.

‘But of course it was arranged,’ said Mrs Dean. ‘After a fashion. There is no doubt that the Prestons went to Harrogate in search of a husband. I wondered at the time why they did not take Helene to London. She was such a diamond that in all likelihood she could have caught a far bigger prize than a mere baron—although it is unlikely it would have been a richer one. But London is such a distance and Helene was never very strong. I think perhaps her parents decided she would not cope with the rigours of a season in Town. Or mayhap they were planning to take her there later, when she was a little more used to society. Only once Helene had met Ralph, she persuaded her papa to let her have her way, and it was always obvious to me that Sir James could deny her nothing.’

‘So they fell in love?’

‘Oh, yes, they were devoted to one another.’ Mrs Dean nodded. ‘And there is no doubting they were well suited, Helene so beautiful and Ralph wealthy enough to make the required settlements. I did think that perhaps Helene’s sweet, compliant nature might—’ She broke off, gazing into space for a moment before saying with a smile, ‘Ralph was so gentle with her, so patient. I have no doubt that he loved her very much indeed. One only has to think that in the two years since she died he has not so much as glanced at another woman.’ The butler entered at that moment, and she added swiftly, ‘Until now, of course, my dear.’

Conversation stopped as Byrne served the ladies with a glass of wine, and when Adversane came in they talked in a desultory manner until the butler had withdrawn again. As her host took a chair on the opposite side of the fireplace, Lucy thought how well Ruthie’s description of Lord Adversane suited him. Stern and cold. There was no softness in the craggy features, no yielding in his upright posture, the muscled shoulders filling the black evening coat so well that not a crease marred its sculpted form. He might have been hewn from the grey rocks she had seen on her journey to Adversane. At that moment he looked across the room and smiled at her. Immediately his face was transformed, the hard lines softened and the grey eyes warmed with amusement. She could not prevent herself from smiling back.

‘So, ladies, what have you been discussing?’

‘You,’ said Lucy. ‘Or rather, your wife.’

The warm look that had made her speak so recklessly was immediately replaced by a black frown, yet she had no choice but to continue.

‘I—I thought, for the role you have engaged me for, that I needed to know a little more about Lady Adversane.’

‘Do you think anyone would dare mention her to you?’

The haughty reply should have warned her to desist, but instead she considered the question.

‘They might.’ She met his challenging look steadily. ‘And it would certainly appear most odd if I did not evince some interest in my predecessor.’

The icy look vanished, replaced by a more disquieting gleam in his eyes.

‘You are quite right, Miss Halbrook. Unless we put it about that you are marrying me for my money. In which case you need show no interest at all in me or my family.’

‘Oh, dear me, no. I would not wish to feature as a fortune-hunter.’ He laughed at that, and, emboldened, she continued, ‘I looked in the Long Gallery on my way here tonight. I thought I might see a portrait of Lady Adversane.’

Mrs Dean fidgeted beside her, and Adversane’s gaze shifted from Lucy to his cousin.

‘You shall see her likeness,’ he said coolly. ‘But not tonight, for here is Byrne again to tell us dinner is served.’

* * *

By the time they had dined, the days of travel were beginning to catch up with Lucy, and when Mrs Dean suggested that instead of retiring to the drawing room after the meal she might like to go to bed, Lucy agreed. Ruthie was waiting in her bedchamber, taking such pains to say nothing while she helped her undress that Lucy was amused, but too exhausted to tease the girl. Once she had ascertained that Ruthie would be sleeping in the dressing room, she fell into bed and was asleep almost before her head touched the pillow.

* * *

Lucy woke very early the following morning. She had asked Ruthie to leave the window shutters open and not to pull the hangings around the bed and the sun was streaming into the room. Lucy stretched and plumped up the pillows, then she lay down again, thinking of the change in her circumstances. A maid was sleeping in the dressing room, there for the sole purpose of looking after her, and once dressed Lucy would be obliged to do very little except amuse herself. All day.

And she was being well paid for it.

With a contented smile she put her hands behind her head. She had imagined herself struggling to control a schoolroom of spoiled children, or running back and forth at the bidding of a querulous invalid, instead of which she was living the life of a rich and cossetted lady.

She slipped out of bed and walked over to the window, throwing open the casement and leaning on the sill to breathe in the fresh summer air. Her room overlooked the front of the house, where the gravelled drive snaked away between neatly scythed lawns and out through the gates. Beyond the palings lay the park, bordered by an expanse of woodlands, and beyond that she could see the craggy moors stretching away to meet the sky. How could anyone be unhappy in such surroundings?

Lucy had a sudden desire to be outside, while the dew was still on the grass. Rather than disturb her sleeping maid she dressed herself in a morning gown of primrose muslin, caught her hair back with a ribbon and, picking up her shawl, she left her room. There would be a quicker way of getting to the gardens than down the main staircase and through the Great Hall, but Lucy did not yet know it and was afraid of losing herself in the maze of unfamiliar corridors. It was still early, and although she heard the servants at work she saw no one as she made her way to the long through-passage and out of the doors that opened onto the formal gardens.

A broad terrace ended in a shallow flight of steps leading down to flower beds separated by wide gravel paths. A series of statues decorated each bed and at the far end of the gardens was a small pond and fountain. It was very beautiful and the air was already heavy with the scent of flowers, but the formal layout did not fulfil her wish to be at one with nature, so she made her way around to the front of the house, where she could stroll across the smooth grass, leaving a trail of footprints in the heavy dew.

Although it was early, a skylark trilled ecstatically somewhere above her and she thought how wonderful it would be to live here through the seasons. Immediately upon the thought came another, less welcome idea, that the late Lady Adversane had not thought so. From what Ruthie had said Helene had been very unhappy here, although Lucy suspected that it was not because of the property but its owner. As if conjured by her thoughts two horses emerged from the distant trees, galloping across the open park, their riders bent low over their necks.

Even at a distance there was no mistaking Ralph, Lord Adversane. He was riding a magnificent black hunter and was a good horse’s length ahead of his companion. Man and beast were as one, flying across the turf with strong, fluid movements that made their progress look effortless. He slowed as he approached the drive, waiting for his companion to come up to him before they trotted between the stone pillars of the main entrance.

Lucy knew they must see her, a solitary figure standing in the middle of the lawns, but she determined not to scuttle away like some timid little mouse. She thought they would ride around the side of the house to the stables, and she was not a little surprised when they turned their horses onto the grass and came directly towards her.

Lord Adversane touched his hat.

‘You are about early, Miss Halbrook.’

‘Not as early as you, my lord.’

His brows rose a little, and she wondered if he had expected her to explain her presence. As if—and she bridled a little at the idea—as if she had no right to be there. However, he did not appear to be offended by her response and replied quite cheerfully.

‘I often ride out in the morning. It is a good time to see just what is happening on my land.’ He indicated the man beside him. ‘This is Harold Colne, who acts as my steward here at Adversane.’

Lucy nodded. ‘Mr Colne.’ She shot him a quick, questioning glance. ‘Acts? Is that not your main role?’

‘Harry is also a lifelong friend and a business partner for some of my ventures.’ Ralph grinned. ‘In fact, the partnership is flourishing so much that I fear I shall soon have to find myself a new steward. However, for the present Harry manages everything here at Adversane. If you are in need of anything, you may ask him.’

‘I will be delighted to help you in any way I can, Miss Halbrook.’

Mr Colne touched his hat and gave her a friendly smile. Lucy warmed to him immediately. He looked to be a similar age to Lord Adversane, but instead of short black hair he had brown curls and a kindly face that looked as if it was made for laughter.

‘I have a great curiosity about this place, Mr Colne,’ she told him. ‘And I shall undoubtedly seek you out, if you can spare a little time.’

‘As much as you require, ma’am, although I assure you Lord Adversane knows everything there is to know about the estate.’ He held out one hand to his companion. ‘If you will give me your reins, my lord, I will see to the horses and leave you free to walk with Miss Halbrook.’

‘What? Oh. Of course.’

Lucy kept her countenance until the steward had ridden away, then she said, her voice rich with laughter, ‘I suppose you told Mr Colne I was your fiancée, Lord Adversane?’

‘Not as such. It was implied, and I did not deny it.’

‘Then you cannot blame him if he assumes you wish to spend time with me.’

‘Of course not.’

She chuckled.

‘Your expression tells me you would like to add “and very inconvenient it is, too!” Although, of course I am sure you would use much stronger language.’

Again that swift grin transformed his countenance.

‘You are right, much stronger!’

‘Well, I am very happy with my own company, sir, so if you have business requiring your attention, please do not feel you have to humour me.’

‘No, there is nothing that cannot wait.’

Lucy dropped a curtsey.

‘I vow, my lord, I do not know when I have received such a handsome compliment.’

She wondered if her impetuous remark might bring his wrath upon her, but although his eyes narrowed there was a gleam of appreciation in them.

‘Vixen,’ he retorted without heat.

He held out his arm to her, and she laid her fingers on the rough woollen sleeve. She remarked as they began to stroll towards the house, ‘If Mr Colne is such a good friend I wonder that you did not confide your plan to him.’

‘It has been my experience that secrets are best shared as little as possible. It was necessary to take Mrs Dean into my confidence, but no one else need know of it.’

‘Your reasoning is impeccable, but to deceive your friends must cause some uneasiness.’

‘And are you not deceiving your family?’

She bit her lip. ‘I am, in a way.’ She added, firing up, ‘But at least there is some truth in what I told them. I am employed.’

‘And do I figure as your elderly invalid?’

She gave a little choke of laughter at the absurdity of the idea.

‘I suppose you must be, although you are far too—’ She broke off, blushing.

‘Far too what? Come, Miss Halbrook. You intrigue me.’

‘Healthy,’ she said lamely. It had not been the adjective she had intended to use. Young. Strong. Virile. They were the words that had come to her mind, but impossible to tell him so, and she was grateful that he did not press her on the matter.

‘So what are you doing out here so early?’ he asked her.

‘Communing with nature.’ Her soulful response earned her a sudden, frowning look, and she abandoned her teasing. ‘It is such a lovely day that I wanted to be outside. From what Mrs Dean told me yesterday I believe breakfast will not be for another hour or so yet.’

‘Breakfast can be whenever you wish,’ he replied. ‘Did your maid dress you?’

She stopped, glancing down at her gown. ‘No—why, is there something wrong?’

‘Not at all. I prefer your hair like that, with a bandeau and hanging loose down your back.’ He reached up and caught a lock between his fingers. ‘It curls naturally?’

‘Why, y-yes.’ She was thrown off balance by the gesture, which seemed far too intimate. ‘I usually wear it in a knot because it is more...’

‘More suitable for a governess, perhaps,’ he finished for her. They began to walk on. ‘While you are here you will oblige me by not looking like a governess.’

‘Very well, if that is your wish, my lord.’

‘Now I have offended you.’

‘Not at all.’

‘You should know from the outset, Miss Halbrook, that I have no turn for soft words and compliments.’

‘That is quite evident.’

Her sharp retort earned nothing but a swift, sardonic glance. Lucy knew she was fortunate; she guessed he was more than capable of delivering a brutal snub if she pushed him too far.

Lucy curbed her hasty temper. After all, it was not for her to criticise her employer. She decided to enjoy the morning stroll. Lord Adversane led her around the perimeter of the lawn and seemed disinclined to talk, but Lucy had no intention of allowing him all his own way. A gravelled spur off the main drive caught her attention and her eyes followed it to a small wicket gate set into the palings.

‘Where does that lead?’

‘To the moors.’ Did she imagine the heartbeat’s hesitation before he added, ‘And Druids Rock.’

‘Oh, is it far?’

‘Too far to walk there now.’

She was beginning to recognise that implacable note in his voice. It told her he had no wish to continue with the conversation, but that was understandable, since Druids Rock was where his wife had met her death. Their perambulations had brought them round in a circle and she could see that they were now wending their way back towards the house. She decided to make the most of the remaining time alone with her host.

‘This might be a good opportunity for me to learn something about you,’ she began. ‘Perhaps you should tell me...’ she paused, waving one airy hand ‘...the sort of things a fiancée would want to know.’

‘The state of my fortune, perhaps?’

‘That is the sort of thing my parents would want to know,’ she corrected him. ‘No, tell me about you.’

‘I am thirty years of age. I inherited Adversane some nine years ago and it has been my principal home ever since. I have other estates, of course, and a house in London that I use when the House is sitting or to attend lectures and experiments at the Royal Society—what have I said to amuse you, Miss Halbrook?’

‘Nothing, only I am at a loss to see what would have brought us together.’

‘I appreciate art—you will admit that we have that in common, madam.’

‘But that is such a wide-ranging subject that I am not at all sure we would enjoy the same artists,’ she countered, unwilling to concede anything just yet.

He shrugged. ‘I enjoy riding—’

‘Ah, then we do have a common interest.’

‘You ride, then?’

‘It was amongst the accomplishments I listed for Mrs Killinghurst.’

‘But do you ride well?’

‘That you will have to judge for yourself.’ She sighed. ‘It is not something I was able to do very often in London.’

‘There are plenty of horses in the stables that my sisters use when they are at Adversane. We shall ride out this afternoon. That is—you have a riding habit?’

‘Yes, an old one. I wore it to travel here.’

‘Very well, then.’ They had reached the garden door, and he opened it and stood back for her to precede him. ‘I have business with Colne to attend to, but it should be finished by four. I will send for you to come to the stables as soon as I am free.’

Her brows went up. ‘Send for me? Perhaps I will not be able to respond to your...your summons, my lord. I may have found another occupation by then.’

Ralph heard the frosty note in her voice. What cause had she to complain? If he wanted to summon her he would do so, by heaven. She was, after all, only an employee. He gave a shrug and responded, equally coldly.

‘I have already said you will get no fine speeches from me, Miss Halbrook.’

‘Then you will understand if I respond in kind, Lord Adversane!’

Her spirited retort surprised him, but he did not resent it. In fact, he rather liked it and raised her fingers to his lips.

‘I shall be delighted if you do so, ma’am.’

He strode off then, but not before he had seen the look of shock on her face. He felt a smile growing inside him. He was beginning to enjoy his encounters with Miss Lucy Halbrook!

* * *

Lucy’s boots were sodden from walking on the grass, and she went upstairs to change them before making her way to the breakfast room. She did not know what to make of her host. He was blunt to the point of rudeness, showed no inclination for polite conversation, yet that kiss upon her fingers was as gallant as any she had ever received. It had shaken her, along with the disturbing glint she had more than once seen in his eyes. She could believe he was autocratic and impatient, but she did not think him cruel. However, she was not really engaged to him, merely an actor, hired for a few weeks. Perhaps she might feel differently about Lord Adversane if she was his wife, and in his power.

* * *

Over breakfast it was agreed that Mrs Dean would take Lucy for a gentle drive into Ingleston.

‘It is but three miles away and a very useful place to buy little things like stockings and gloves and ribbons,’ Mrs Dean explained. ‘We can also call upon Mrs Sutton, the dressmaker—’

‘No need,’ said Adversane, coming in at that moment. ‘I have arranged for Mrs Sutton to call here tomorrow.’

Mrs Dean stared at him. ‘Oh, have you, Ralph? Well, then...I suppose we need not see her today...’

Lucy chuckled. She was now on very good terms with Mrs Dean and did not scruple to tease her.

‘Ariadne is deeply shocked,’ she murmured. ‘She does not know whether to attribute your actions to consideration for my comfort or to an arrogant high-handedness.’

The widow protested and cast an anxious glance at Adversane, but he merely looked amused.

‘And which of those would you choose, Miss Halbrook?’

She met his gaze, quite fearless with Mrs Dean present and the width of the breakfast table between them.

‘Oh, I think the latter, my lord.’

‘Baggage,’ he said, grinning at her.

Lucy was inordinately pleased with his reaction, but thought it best not to say any more. Instead, she gave her attention to the bread and butter on her plate, which was all she required to break her fast. As she finished drinking her coffee she asked Ariadne how long she thought they would be out.

‘Oh, not long, my dear. We shall drive around the town, that you may see it, and then if you wish we shall stroll along the High Street and look at the shops. There are not that many, and we may well be back by two o’clock or soon after.’

‘Oh, that is excellent,’ said Lucy. She rose. ‘I shall fetch my coat and bonnet and meet you in the hall, Ariadne.’

As she passed Adversane’s chair he reached back and caught her wrist.

‘Four o’clock, Miss Halbrook, do not forget.’

The touch of his cool fingers brought the heat rising in Lucy’s cheeks. His grip was loose, casual, the sort of informal gesture that might occur between good friends, but her heart missed a beat and now it was hammering far too heavily, preventing her from thinking clearly. Thankfully, Adversane did not notice her confusion, for he was explaining to his cousin that he had invited Lucy to ride out with him.

‘Oh, perhaps then, my dear, we should put off our drive to another day,’ suggested Ariadne.

‘There is not the least need for that,’ cried Lucy, struggling to recover her composure. ‘I am not one of those lacklustre females who is prostrate after the slightest exertion!’

She had spoken in jest, but an uneasy silence fell over the breakfast room. Ariadne looked taken aback and the air was taut as a bowstring. Adversane released her, his chair scraped back and without a word he strode out of the breakfast room.

‘What is it, Ariadne? What did I say?’

Mrs Dean dabbed at her lips with her napkin.

‘Lady Adversane was not very strong,’ she said quietly. ‘At least, she could walk well enough when it suited her, but she would often take to her room for the rest of the day after the most gentle exercise, pleading exhaustion. You were not to know, of course.’ She rose and came round the table to Lucy, taking her arm. ‘Come along, my dear, we’ll go upstairs to fetch our things and be away.’

* * *

Ariadne was right, of course. Lucy had spoken in all innocence, but she could not forget the effect of her words. She did not mention it again to Mrs Dean, but later, when she changed into her riding habit and went out to the stables, she knew she would have to say something to Lord Adversane.

He was waiting for her at the stable yard, holding the reins of his black hunter while the groom walked a pretty bay mare up and down. When Lucy appeared, the groom brought the bay to her immediately and directed her to the mounting block. As soon as she was in the saddle Adversane handed his reins to the groom and came close to check the girth and stirrup.

She said quietly, as the groom moved away, ‘My Lord, what I said at breakfast—I must apologise, I did not know...about your wife.’

‘I am aware of that, Miss Halbrook.’

‘I did not intend any offence.’

‘None was taken.’ He gave the girth a final pat and stood back. ‘Shall we go?’

Discussion ended, she thought sadly. He had withdrawn from her again.

* * *

It was a long time since Lucy had last ridden, and for the first ten minutes she gave her attention to staying in the saddle and controlling the bay’s playful antics as they trotted out of the gates. Adversane waited only to assure himself that she was comfortable before he set off at a canter across the park. Lucy followed, and when he gave the black hunter his head she experienced a surge of delight as she set the mare galloping in pursuit. She forgot their earlier constraint and when at last her companion slowed the pace she came alongside and said with heartfelt gratitude, ‘Thank you, my lord! I do not know when I have enjoyed myself more!’

‘Really? But you ride very well, you must have learned that somewhere.’

‘Yes, on friends’ ponies and for a short time when Papa had funds enough for me to have a horse of my own, but we only ever rode on the lanes or rough pasture. To be able to gallop—really gallop across the park like that—it was...it was exhilarating!’

‘I am pleased, then, Miss Halbrook, and happy for you to ride Brandy whenever you wish. You do not need to refer to me. Send a message to the stables when you want to ride out and Greg, my groom, will arrange for someone to accompany you.’

‘Was Brandy your wife’s horse?’

For a moment she thought he had not heard her.

‘No,’ he said at last. ‘Helene had a grey. Beautiful to look at, but no spirit at all. Now, which way would you like to go?’

She accepted that he did not wish to talk more about his wife and looked about her before answering his question. ‘I am not sure...which is your land?’

‘All of it.’ He glanced up at the sun. ‘There is time to ride as far as the Home Wood and around the southern perimeter, if you wish.’

‘Oh, yes, please—I feel as if I could ride for ever!’

Lord Adversane grinned, putting his severe expression to flight, and Lucy wondered if it was just such a look that had made his first wife fall in love with him.

The idea surprised and embarrassed her. Her hands clenched on the reins and the mare snatched at the bit, unsettled. She gave her attention to quietening the horse and by the time she brought the bay alongside the black hunter again she had regained her equilibrium. They left the park and soon found themselves on a high ridge, with the moors climbing even higher on one side, while a vista of wooded hills and steeply sided valleys opened out before them.

Lucy was enchanted and eager to know more about the country—she asked him the name of the thick wood in the distance, and what river it was that tumbled through the valley, and did he really own everything as far as the eye could see? She was relieved that he did not appear to be offended by the questions that tumbled from her lips. He responded with patience and good humour, even expanding his answers and offering more information when he realised that she was genuinely interested.

* * *

Ralph found himself looking closely at this slight figure riding beside him. Her faded habit only enhanced the peach bloom in her cheeks and the sparkle in her green eyes. He usually went out alone, or with Harry, but riding with Lucy Halbrook, seeing his world afresh through her eager eyes, was surprisingly enjoyable.

As they continued their ride he told her about the family members she would meet at the forthcoming house party. She listened to him intently, her head a little on one side as if trying to commit it all to memory. It was with something very like regret that Ralph noticed the sun’s shadow had moved on and he told her they should turn for home.

‘Will we have time to visit the moors today?’

‘I’m afraid not.’ He saw the disappointment in her face and added, ‘The moors are so extensive they deserve at least a day to themselves. However, we can ride back across the fields, and there will be a few dry stone walls to jump, if you are able.’

Immediately, the absurd chit was smiling at him as if he had offered her a casket of jewels.

‘Oh, yes, please, only...perhaps you can find a couple of tiny walls for me to jump first, since I am so horribly out of practice!’

* * *

Laughing, Ralph set off across country, choosing a route that would not overtax the mare or her rider. He soon realised that he needn’t have worried. Lucy was a natural horsewoman. She rode beside him, jumping everything fearlessly and with such delight that he wished the return journey was twice as long. All too soon they were back in the park with the house just visible on the far skyline and in between a vast expanse of green, springy turf. He reined in his horse.

‘You appear to be at home upon Brandy now, Miss Halbrook. Would you like to lead the way to the stables?’ He saw the speculation in her eyes, the quick glance she threw towards his own mount. ‘Don’t worry about Jupiter. He will be happy enough to follow in your wake.’

‘I was thinking rather that we might race for the gates.’

His brows went up.

‘Oho, are you so confident of your ability, madam?’

‘Yes, if you will give me a head start.’

He regarded her with a slight frown. Sheer foolishness, of course. Childish, too. It would be reckless in the extreme to hurtle at breakneck speed across the park. One stumble could mean disaster. He opened his mouth to say so, but found himself subject to such a hopeful gaze that he could not utter the words. Instead, he pointed to a single tree standing alone some distance away.

‘I’ll give you to the oak.’

She needed no second bidding. He watched her careering away from him and found himself enjoying the view. She had almost outgrown the faded habit, for it clung to her figure, accentuating the tiny waist and the delectable roundness of her buttocks, seated so firmly in the saddle. She rode well, and he imagined her in his bed, thought how satisfying it would be to rouse that same passion and spirit in her by covering her soft, pliant body with kisses.

The image enthralled him and it was Jupiter’s fretful protest that made him realise Lucy had reached the oak. With a word he gave the hunter his freedom and Jupiter leapt forward. He was soon in his stride and catching up with the smaller bay. Ralph leaned low, urging his horse on while keeping his eyes upon Lucy’s shapely figure, trying to prevent his imagination from picturing what he would like to do when he caught up with her.

Jupiter stumbled and Ralph held him up, steadying him with a word. They were on the bay’s heels now, the hunter’s longer stride giving him the advantage. Sensing a victory, the black lengthened his neck and strained to come up with the bay. Ralph was so close now he could almost reach out and touch Lucy’s back. The open gates were looming. She would check soon, and he would shoot past. But Lucy did not slow—she pushed Brandy on and they raced through the narrow entrance side by side, with only inches to spare.

Lucy was laughing as they brought both horses to a stand on the lawn. Glancing back, Ralph could see where they had ridden by the deep gouges the hooves had made in the turf. Old Amos would ring a peal over him for this. He had been head gardener for decades, and Ralph could almost hear him, demanding in outraged accents to know just what my lord was about, behaving like a schoolboy.

And looking into Lucy’s smiling eyes, Ralph realised that was just how he felt, like a schoolboy ripe for a spree, rather than a man bent upon a plan of action that was no laughing matter.

Sobered by the thought of the dangerous game he had in mind, Ralph began to walk Jupiter towards the stables. Lucy brought the bay alongside.

‘I am afraid your groundsman will be most unhappy with us, sir.’

He knew she was looking up at him, but he thought it best not to meet her eyes. She had an uncanny power to disconcert him. When they reached the stable yard, the grooms ran out to take the horses. Ralph jumped down and walked around to Lucy, holding out his arms to lift her down. It was a duty, he told himself. It was what any man would do for the woman he intended to marry and therefore it was necessary for him to do so, to convince his staff that all this was real.

She was light as a feather and her waist was so tiny his hands almost spanned it. Ralph needed all his iron will to stop himself from holding her a moment longer than was necessary. In fact, so eager was he to ensure Lucy could not misunderstand his intentions he released her a little too soon and she stumbled, off balance. Immediately, his arms were around her, even as her own hands clutched at his riding jacket. The flush on her cheeks deepened, and he was shaken to the core by a strong desire to kiss the cherry-red lips that had parted so invitingly. The grooms had walked the horses into the stables, there was no one to see them. Why should he not lower his head and take advantage of the situation?

The way his body hardened immediately at the thought caught him off guard. He had to conjure every ounce of resolve to prevent himself from giving in to it. He tried to summon up a reasonable response, but could only find anger—at himself for his weakness and at Lucy for tempting him. With rigid control, he brought his hands back and put them over hers, pulling her fingers from his lapels.

He said coldly, ‘Please do not throw yourself at me, Miss Halbrook. That might be how one conducts oneself in your world, but at Adversane we expect a little more decorum.’

Her face flamed, those green eyes lost their shy smile and darkened with hurt and bewilderment. Damnation, why had he not cut his tongue out before allowing himself to utter such words? She had put out her hands to steady herself, he knew that, but he had been thrown off balance by the hunger that had slammed through him when she was in his arms. He had not known such strength of feeling since the heady days of his youth and, unnerved, he had attacked her cruelly, coldly, in a manner designed to depress any pretensions she might have.

These were the thoughts of an instant. He felt as if time had stopped, but it could only have been a moment. He said quickly, ‘I should not have spoken so. It was unforgivable—’

But she was already backing away from him, her cheeks now white as chalk, and her hands raised before her, as if to ward him off.

‘No, no, you are quite right. I beg your pardon.’

Her voice was little more than a thread. She turned and hurried away, head high. He should go after her, tell her it was not her fault, that the blame was all his, but he did not move. What could he say? That he had lost control? That he had suddenly been overwhelmed with the desire to ravish her? She was an employee, here for a purpose. If she thought him in any way attracted to her it would compromise her position. She would be unable to play her part for fear of the consequences. All his planning would come to naught.

Ralph watched her walk through the arched entrance and out of sight. Only then did he move, striding into the stables, stripping off his coat as he went. He made his way to Jupiter’s stall and tossed his coat over the partition. He would rub down the horse himself, brush the black coat until it shone and then he would put his head under the pump in the yard. After that he thought he might just be able to face meeting Lucy Halbrook at the dinner table.


Chapter Four

‘I will not cry.’

Lucy kept repeating the words to herself as she made her way back to her room. She kept her head up, teeth firmly biting into her lip to offset the bitter shame and revulsion that brought hot, angry tears to clog her throat and prickle behind her eyes.

They had been getting on so well, it had been the most perfect outing until Adversane had lifted her down and she had lost her balance. She had been exhilarated, in love with the whole world, and when she had put her hands against his chest to steady herself she had had no thought other than to laugh and apologise for being a little giddy.

Then she had looked up into his slate-grey eyes and her world had fallen apart. Her foolishly heightened sense had thought that he had taken her in his arms instead of trying to hold her upright, and she had imagined such a look that it had turned her bones to water. Instead of being able to stand up straight, she had been in even greater danger of falling over and had clutched at his coat like a drowning man might cling to a wooden spar. In her silly, dizzy brain she had thought herself a princess about to be kissed by her fairy-tale prince. That, of course, was pure foolishness. No one, absolutely no one, would ever think of the saturnine Lord Adversane as a prince.

‘At least he is not a rake,’ she muttered as she ran up the grand staircase. ‘You were standing there, looking up at him, positively inviting him to seduce you. Thankfully he is too much of a gentleman for that.’

She flinched as she remembered his reprimand, but it was justified. In fact, she would be very fortunate if he did not pack her off back to London immediately.

* * *

She went down to the drawing room before dinner in a state of nervous apprehension. When Ariadne asked her if she had enjoyed her ride, she answered yes, but hurriedly changed the subject, and when Lord Adversane came in she retired to a chair by the window and hoped that if she kept very still he would not notice her.

It seemed to work. Apart from an infinitesimal bow Lord Adversane ignored her until dinner was announced, when he gave his arm to his cousin. Lucy was left to follow on as best she might. Thankfully, Mrs Dean was never short of small talk at the dinner table. She chattered on, rarely requiring a response, while Byrne kept the wineglasses filled and oversaw the elaborate ritual of bringing in and removing a bewildering array of delectable foods. Lucy was too unhappy to be hungry and ate almost nothing from the dishes immediately before her. She was pushing a little pile of rice about her plate when Byrne appeared at her elbow with a silver tray.

He said quietly, ‘His lordship recommends the salmon in wine, miss, and begs that you will try it.’

Lucy glanced along the table. Lord Adversane was watching her, unsmiling, but when he caught her eye he gave a little nod of encouragement. She allowed the butler to spoon a little of the salmon and the sauce onto her plate. It was indeed delicious and she directed another look towards her host, hoping to convey her gratitude. Her tentative smile was received with another small but definite nod. Whether it was that, or the effects of the food, she suddenly felt a little better.

When dinner was over the ladies moved to the drawing room. Having boasted earlier of her stamina, Lucy did not feel she could retire before Lord Adversane joined them. Mrs Dean settled herself on one of the satin-covered sofas but Lucy could not sit still. To disguise her restlessness she pretended to study the room. There was plenty to occupy her: the walls were covered with old masters and the ornate carving of the overmantel was worthy of close attention. Adversane did not linger over his brandy and soon came in. He made no attempt to engage Lucy in conversation and took a seat near his cousin, politely inviting her to tell him about her day. Ariadne needed no second bidding and launched into a long and convoluted description of her activities.

It was a balmy evening, and the long windows were thrown wide, allowing the desultory birdsong to drift in on the warm air. Lucy slipped out onto the terrace. The sun was dipping but was still some way from the horizon and she could feel its heat reflecting from the stone walls of the house. The earlier breeze had dropped away and a peaceful stillness had settled over the gardens spread out before her, the statuary and flowerbeds leading the eye on to the trees in the distance and, beyond them, the faint misty edge of the high moors. Lucy drank in the scene, trying to store every detail in her memory. She suspected such summer evenings were rare in the north and she wanted to remember this one.

It was very quiet in the drawing room and she wondered perhaps if Lord Adversane had had enough of his cousin’s inconsequential chatter and retired. She stepped back into the room, and gave a little start when she realised that it was Mrs Dean who was missing. Her host was standing by the empty fireplace.

‘You are very quiet this evening, Miss Halbrook.’

She sat down and folded her hands in her lap. She must take this opportunity to say what was on her mind.

‘I was wondering, my lord, if you wished me to leave. If I go now there is still time for you to find someone else.’

‘Do you wish to go?’

She shook her head. ‘My circumstances have not changed. I am still in need of employment.’

‘And I am still in need of a fiancée. It seems logical, therefore, that we should continue.’ He paused. ‘You are smiling, Miss Halbrook. Have I said something to amuse you?’

‘You make it all sound so simple. A mere business arrangement.’

‘Which is what it is.’

She looked down at her hands.

‘But this afternoon, in the stable yard—’

‘A little misunderstanding,’ he interposed. ‘Brought on by the excitement of the ride. It will not be allowed to happen again.’

‘No, my lord?’

‘You sound sceptical.’

‘I am, a little.’ She continued, with some difficulty, ‘I know—I have been told—that when a man and a woman are thrown into a situation, when they are alone together...’

She blushed, not knowing how to go on.

‘I understand you,’ he said quietly, ‘but you have nothing of that nature to fear. Let us speak plainly, madam. I have no designs upon your virtue and no intention of seducing you.’

His blunt words should have been reassuring, but she was contrary enough to feel slighted by them. She kept her eyes lowered and heard him exhale, almost like a sigh.

‘Believe me, Miss Halbrook, you will be quite safe here. I can assure you that even strong passions can be assuaged with hard work and exercise. And if not... Well, for a man at least there are establishments that cater for his needs.’ Lucy bent her head even more to hide her burning cheeks. He continued after an infinitesimal pause, ‘But perhaps that is a little too much plain speaking, and a subject not suited to a young lady’s ears.’

‘Not at all. I value your honesty, sir.’

She had not raised her head and now she heard his soft footsteps approaching. She looked up to find him standing over her.

‘And I value yours. You are a sensible young woman, which is what I require in my hostess. A simple business transaction, Miss Halbrook. Can you manage that?’

She did not answer immediately. It should be easy, he made it sound so reasonable. Yet some instinct urged caution. She stifled it. If Lord Adversane could approach this in a logical fashion, then she could, too. After taking a few deep breaths she straightened her shoulders.

‘Yes, my lord, I can.’

* * *

A simple business transaction.

The words echoed around Lucy’s head when she lay in her bed through the dark reaches of the night. She could do this. The remuneration was worth a little sacrifice, surely. And if she was honest, the only sacrifice was that she should not allow herself to flirt with Lord Adversane. He roused in her a girlish spirit that had no place in her life now. When he was near she wanted to tease him, to make him laugh and drive away the sombre look that too often haunted his eyes. But his sorrow was none of her concern and she must be careful not to compromise herself.

‘I must not be alone with him, that is all,’ she told herself.

Surely that was no very arduous task when he had even brought in Ariadne to act as chaperone. All she had to do was to live like a lady in this beautiful house for another few weeks and she would walk away with more money than she could earn in a year. She turned over and cradled her cheek in her hand, finally falling asleep while engaged in the delightful task of thinking just what she might do with such a sum.

* * *

Lucy awoke to another brilliantly sunny day. Her spirits were equally bright. For a while, yesterday, she had thought she would be leaving all this luxury behind. Instead, she had a delectable prospect ahead of her. A visit from the dressmaker.





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