A Scandalous Publication (13 page)

Throughout the house the story was the same, with strange furniture and paintings taking the place of all that she could still remember so clearly from the past. Some things were the same, however, like the immense sideboard in the breakfast room, the long mahogany table presiding over the dining room, and her father’s silver brocade four-poster bed in the principal apartment. There were other items Max had purchased at the auction, and the faces of the servants were as she remembered, and of course the rooms themselves had not yet been physically altered; it was very strange indeed to stroll through it all, as if she were observing it all from a great distance.

They had completed the circuit of the house and were descending the staircase to the hall when suddenly they heard a carriage arriving outside. Max halted, his face suddenly very still, as if he knew who it was. Charlotte looked inquiringly at him, but he merely remained where he was, gazing expectantly at the main doors.

Someone knocked, and after a moment one of Max’s footmen hurried to open it. Charlotte’s heart almost froze as she saw Judith standing there, looking as gloriously beautiful as ever in a daffodil-yellow silk gown, a gossamer light yellow-and-white shawl and a dainty, flower-adorned straw bonnet tied on with yellow ribbons.

The footman hesitated, looking uncertainly at his master
,
still absolutely motionless on the staircase.

The undercurrents that had so suddenly sprung into being were almost tangible, and Charlotte could only stand there, wondering with a dreadful sinking feeling what was about to happen.

Judith stepped into the vestibule, the fresh brilliance of her clothes making a startling splash of color as she stood on the gray-and-black-tiled floor, her green eyes shining as she looked up at the two on the staircase. “Well, well,” she murmured, “how very cozy. I do hope I’m not intruding.”

Again Charlotte looked at Max. His face was dark with anger now. “Madam,” he said coldly to Judith, “you were asked not to come here.”

“So I was. Put my presence down to base female curiosity; I simply had to know how you were proceeding with the little Wyndham.”

Max stiffened noticeably, turning quickly to Charlotte. “Please wait in the walled garden. I will come presently.”

“But
—”

“Don’t choose this of all moments to show your independent spirit, I beg of you. Please, just do as I ask.”

She stared at him for a moment and then gathered her skirts to hurry on down the staircase. As she crossed the vestibule and passed Judith, the other’s low voice halted her momentarily.

“Charlotte Wyndham, if you thought I was your enemy before, it is as nothing to the enemy I am now. Be on your guard, for I’ll claw you down, you have my word on it.”

Charlotte said nothing, hurrying on and out into the warm sunshine.

Her mind was racing as she reached the peace and solitude of the walled garden, a place well away from the confrontation that was evidently taking place between Max and his furious mistress. Was it over between them? Had the argument she’d seen take place at Vauxhall Gardens been evidence of a much more serious split than she had hitherto realized? She gazed around at the beautiful, sun-soaked gardens and at the house beyond. Oh, she hoped it was, for she still couldn’t endure the thought of Judith Taynton living here. Nor could she bear to think of Judith lying in Max’s arms, close and cherished, sleeping at his side throughout the night and waking to feel his lips upon hers in the morning…
.
Charlotte closed her eyes, turning sharply away from the house. Such thoughts were so very wrong.

The minutes passed, and still there was no sign of him. She walked slowly along the neat gravel paths between the sweet-smelling flower beds. The doves cooed softly in the dovecote, their wings white against the blue sky as now and then they rose in a cloud. The roses her mother and Richard had planted all those years before were at their best now, their colors almost vibrant against the warm stone walls. Sitting on a seat beneath a bower of purple-blue wisteria, she listened to the remembered sounds of the park she loved so much, and at first she didn’t hear the sound of Judith’s carriage leaving. It wasn’t until the coachman’s whip cracked to bring the team sharply up to speed that she was roused from her thoughts. Hurrying to the arched doorway in the wall, she looked across the open park to see the eye-catching yellow carriage driving at almost breakneck speed down toward the lake. As it reached the valley, the whip cracked again, urging the team to even greater effort, and it almost flew along the shore toward the rising ground beyond.

She heard Max approaching and turned quickly. His face was a little pale and she could see the lingering anger in his blue eyes.

He halted. “I trust I haven’t kept you waiting too long, Miss Wyndham.”

She was a little surprised at such a bland statement after the bitterness of the confrontation in the vestibule. “Too long? Why, no, sir.”

He glanced past her toward the distant lodge and main gates, where Judith’s carriage was just passing out of sight onto the main London highway. “Then let us continue,” he murmured. “I was about to suggest luncheon. I do hope you are in good appetite.”

She stared at him. Not a word about what had just happened?

He seemed not to notice her surprised reaction, “I thought that such a fine day called for enjoyment of the great outdoors, and I’ve taken the liberty of having a picnic sent out in readiness. My phaeton awaits.” He offered her his arm.

Hesitantly and still a little taken aback, she accepted. “Where are we going?” she inquired as they walked back toward the house, where she could see his high red phaeton waiting, a groom holding the bridle of the leader of the team of six grays.

“I thought the Mercury rotunda on the far side of the lake, if that’s agreeable to you.”

Her breath caught and her eyes flew toward the little white building.

The speed with which he drove the highly sprung phaeton was even faster than that previously attained by his mistress’s carriage. On his little perch behind the seat, the little groom clung tightly to his place, holding his beaver hat on firmly. Charlotte’s lace veil streamed in the air behind her, and the hem of her gown, even though it was padded and stiffened, lifted now and then in the breeze caused by the vehicle’s pace. It was as if by driving so recklessly, Max was exorcising the dark mood that had been with him at the outset of the day and that had returned when he had come face to face with Judith. By the time they reached the rotunda, he seemed almost himself again, driving the team at a spanking but not foolhardy speed across the smooth open grass.

It was pleasantly cool in the shade of the little marble building, which seemed larger now than Charlotte remembered. Memories of the dream that had awakened her to the way she really felt about Max were very strong as the phaeton came to a standstill and she gazed up at the statue of the god Mercury on the top of the domed roof. There was a slight breeze now, she could hear it whispering through the trees and among the rotunda’s six Ionic columns. From here she could look across the bright water of the lake toward the house, and beyond that the Surrey hills stretching away into the beautiful green infinity of the hazy, indistinct horizon. It was a peaceful, idyllic place, but for her charged now with a secret atmosphere that made her shiver a little, even though she was far from cold.

The groom jumped lightly down from his position and hurried to steady the team, while Max fastened the reins and then alighted, coming around to her side and holding his hand up to assist her. Her fingers trembled imperceptibly as she stretched down to him, slipping from the high vehicle and down to the grass. She almost lost her balance, and he caught her quickly, his hands firm about her waist, their warmth quite plain through the soft material of her gown. She was so aware of his touch that she felt sure he must guess how she was feeling.

A rug and some cushions had been laid on the grass beside the rotunda, and he led her there now. As she made herself comfortable, the groom brought the hamper from the phaeton and then withdrew to a discreet distance. The food was delicious, but then, didn’t even the most ordinary fare always taste exceptional out of doors? And this was no ordinary fare: there was cold turkey and spiced ham, crisp salad and feather-light salmon mousse, tasty cheeses and fresh-baked bread. The butter had that subtle flavor she associated only with Kimber Park, and the various pickles were exactly as she always remembered them; one thing was clear: the kitchen staff had indeed continued as if nothing had changed.

The wine had been chilled with ice taken from the lake during the winter and stored in the icehouse deep in the woods, and as Max opened the bottle, he glanced, as if for the first time, at her new clothes. “So, Miss Charlotte Wyndham is restored to elegance. I confess I approve of the transformation.”

“Thank you.”

“And you are not only fashionably elegant once more, I understand you are on the point of reentering society.”

“We are fortunate that my uncle is in a position to provide for us.”

He smiled a little. “Will you be honoring society with your full presence? Or must we be grateful for the occasional glimpse at selected occasions?”

“Since I cannot be present at every single occasion, sir, I’m not quite sure how to answer that.”

“I think you know perfectly well what I mean. Does the advent of your uncle and his wealth mean that you will scuttle off to some new library and shun the Season as you have done hitherto?”

She thought for a moment. “My attitude has changed,” she admitted. “I know that before I was indeed always distancing myself from society, but this last year has made me see things differently. I’m truly looking forward to attending the opening of Waterloo Bridge, and I’m delighted to be going to the Parkstone summer ball.”

“I’m glad to hear it, for your previous attitude was a positive waste. You have a great deal to offer, Miss Wyndham, and your light should not be hidden under the proverbial bushel.”

“You have your complimentary hat on today, sir.”

“It must be the country air
—and the excellent company.”

She studied him for moment. “You haven’t found me excellent company in the past, Sir Maxim.”

“Perhaps because you haven’t
been
excellent company in the past.”

“Ah, now
that
sounds a little more like the real Sir Maxim Talgarth,” she replied with heavy irony.

He smiled. “And
that
sounds like the real Miss Charlotte Wyndham.”

She smiled too. “Leopards and spots, sir.”

“No doubt.”

She looked across the lake at the house, deciding to change the subject. “What alterations do you intend to make? Nothing too drastic, I hope.”

“Hardly anything at all.”

She stared at him. “But, you said….”

“Perhaps I’ve changed my mind.”

“Oh.”

“Maybe the addition of a ballroom, but that’s probably all now.”

“What made you change your mind?”

“Seeing your delight in being here once more. If you find it so perfect
—and quite obviously you do—then, who am I to find fault with it?” He gazed at the house. “I found it perfect in the past as well, that was why I was so anxious to possess it.”

She lowered her eyes quickly, reminded suddenly of what she had heard Sylvia tell Judith in Wyman’s library.

He was still looking at the house. “Do you think a ballroom would put the finishing touch?”

“I suppose so, if you intend holding balls.”

“That would be the general idea,” he replied, his shrewd blue eyes swinging toward her as he detected the subtle change. “Am I to take it that you think the addition of even a ballroom would amount to sacrilege?”

“No, of course not. I’m sure such a thing could only be an asset, especially when you have someone like Lady Judith to preside over things. She and I may loathe each other, but I have to acknowledge that she is a very accomplished hostess and will be ideal for….”

“For what, Miss Wyndham? It can hardly have escaped even your notice that things are not exactly sweet between Lady Judith and myself; indeed things are nonexistent. Whatever may have been the case in the past is not the case now, and the, er, liaison is at an end.”

“It’s none of my business, Sir Maxim.” A secret surge of gladness passed through her.

“No, it isn’t, but you were the one to bring her name up, and in such a way as to require an explanatory answer. So, you see, Lady Judith will
not
be presiding over any future ball, masquerade, rout, or assembly here at Kimber Park. And please don’t murmur empty words of condolence, for I know damned well that you’re highly delighted.”

She flushed a little. “I haven’t any opinion on the matter, sir.”

“No? Well, you certainly have done in the past, and you’ve left me in no doubt about what you think.” He grinned suddenly. “And you were right.”

She didn’t know how to take him. One moment he was sarcastic and almost cutting, the next he seemed to be mocking himself.

His smile became a little more soft then. “Have a sip of your wine, Miss Wyndham, you look a little ruffled.”

“Perhaps because I don’t understand you.”

“No one understands me, least of all myself.”

“Then there’s little hope for you, sir.”

“Do you understand yourself, Miss Wyndham?” he asked very softly. “Or are there some things that defy explanation?”

The warm flush deepened a little on her cheeks. Yes, her love for him defied explanation. She couldn’t help loving him, and that was something about herself which she didn’t understand at all…
.

His glance rested speculatively upon her. “You seem almost ashamed of some dark secret, Miss Wyndham, but I cannot imagine you being guilty of anything shameful.”

Her cheeks were positively aflame now. “There isn’t any dark secret, sir.”

“If you say so, then of course I am mistaken,” he murmured, his eyes at once amused and thoughtful.