A Scandalous Secret (19 page)

‘The scoundrel!’ Alastair said, referring to Oswald. ‘I warned you not to invite that fellow here, Dorrie. I never cared for him. Rides well enough, but uses his horses abominably.’

‘I was quite taken in by his looks,’ she said, hanging her head. ‘Unlike Lizzy.’

‘Your sister is no fool. And her experiences have made her, perhaps, more discriminating in her judgement of men.’

‘But my sister is in love with Mr Markham. And I say she shall marry him!’

‘Is he a bigamist, then?’ her husband asked drily.

‘I suppose,’ she said, ignoring this obvious attempt to annoy her, ‘that there is no legal impediment to the marriage.’

‘Other than his betrothal to—’

‘Oh!’ she interrupted him in exasperation. ‘Why does everyone keep harping on about Miss Thornwood?’

‘She
is
a little difficult to ignore, my dear.’

‘But,’ she persisted, ‘if he were not engaged to that ninnyhammer, is there any reason why Mr Markham should not marry Lizzy?’

Alastair sat down beside her, tapping his left knee with his fingertips as he pondered the question.

‘Well ...’ he answered presently, ‘there is none that I can see. As a trustee of Gerald’s estate, and one of Nicky’s guardians, I should raise no objection - and I doubt if old Mr Boyce would mind.
Elizabeth would lose her allowance, of course.’

‘I am sure,’ she asserted, ‘that Mr Markham is too rich for that to be of any importance. And you know it will not bother Lizzy at all. She was plain Miss Newcombe before her marriage, the daughter of a less-than-respectable baronet. She never cared for wealth and position, you know.’

‘Still, it cannot but be considered a grave
mesalliance.’

Dorinda flared up at once. ‘Well, I see nothing at all improper in a woman marrying the father of her own child!’

‘There will be a great deal of gossip.’ He looked at her very seriously. ‘The resemblance could not fail to be noticed if they were all living under the same roof.’

‘Such things are hardly a rarity among members of the ton,’ she said. ‘Why, I know at least one earl whose father was no more than a lieutenant in a line regiment. Everybody knows it! And as to who sired his sister, it is anyone’s guess.’

‘That may be. Nonetheless, it would be very uncomfortable for Elizabeth.’

‘More uncomfortable than being separated from the man she loves?’ Dorinda demanded.

‘Perhaps not. But there is also Nicky himself to consider.’

‘Nicky dotes on Dominick already. You have seen how it is between them.’

Alastair smiled despite himself. ‘Indeed I have.’

‘There is not an ounce of proof.’ Dorinda refused to yield her point. ‘And anyone who would dare to mention such a thing to
me
will certainly receive a severe set-down!’

‘Quite right, my love.’ Alastair seemed to approve this. ‘But there still remains Miss Thornwood.’

Dorinda shrugged. ‘We will just have to get rid of her.’

‘And how do you propose to do that?’ He was positively grinning now. ‘Hemlock in her tea?’

‘I must seem a ruthless, unfeeling wretch,’ she said, laying her head on his shoulder, ‘but Elizabeth’s happiness is at stake. I cannot allow Gwendolyn simply to walk off with Mr Markham.’

‘It seems that you have set yourself quite a task, my sweet.’

‘But I will accomplish it,’ she decreed. ‘For Lizzy’s sake, I must!’

Chapter 12

Lord and Lady Barrowe went out the next day to visit Rosedale Manor, taking Oswald with them. Elizabeth remained behind to supervise the activities of the two children. The day was fair, and it seemed a waste of sunshine to keep indoors. When Elizabeth suggested a removal to the garden, Nicky and Selina were eager to comply. They wheedled her into a game of blind man’s buff, and she managed to tear the hem of her muslin gown on a rose-bush.

Elizabeth procured some lemonade, and also sent for a needle and thread. While the other two played catch, she prepared to repair the minor damage to her morning-dress rather than wait for her maid to mend it.

‘Mama,’ Nicky came up to her, his cheeks reddened from his exercise, ‘may we explore the shrubbery?’

‘Very well,’ she agreed. It seemed a harmless enough request. ‘You may go into the shrubbery for a while. But take good care of your cousin.’

The children’s voices faded as they wandered off. Elizabeth bent once more to her task. Seated on a low stone bench in the shade of the garden wall, she held the soft fabric in one hand and threaded her needle with the other.

‘Good day, Lady Dansmere.’

The polite greeting startled her so that her head jerked up, and
she pricked her finger. Letting fall needle, thread and skirt, she stared up at the intruder. Her heart gave a great leap.

‘Dominick!’ she breathed, wishing she could conceal the exquisite pleasure she felt at his mere presence. ‘Mr Markham,’ she corrected herself, using his own more formal mode of address.

He stooped to retrieve her lost needle, which was shining in the sunlight, and knelt before her while she looked down upon him, too confused to say anything sensible.

‘I have caused you to hurt yourself.’ He reached for the ungloved hand with the telltale speck upon the forefinger. ‘Forgive me.’

‘It is - nothing,’ she choked. As if in a dream, she watched him carry the finger to his lips and press a gentle kiss upon it. He repeated the action with each digit in turn. She knew she should restrain him, but she could not bear the thought that he might stop touching her.

Involuntarily, she moved her fingers to stroke his cheek. His face was close to hers as she bent over him. The slightest movement would bring their lips together. He raised his head.

As always with him, she forgot everything, so caught up was she in the wonder of his kiss. Somehow, her wide-brimmed gypsy bonnet was cast aside. Dominick half-rose to sit beside her on the bench. His lips were growing more urgent, more demanding, and she knew that kisses alone would not be enough to satisfy either of them for much longer.

‘Bess,’ he murmured softly, ‘my dearest, I want you so!’ His own voice, raw with something akin to anguish, broke the spell he was weaving about her.

‘Dominick,’ she begged, ‘in God’s name, release me.’

He ceased on the instant. The hands that had been caressing her into ecstatic oblivion fell away, leaving her cold and hollow.

‘I - I did not know that you had returned to Wiltshire,’ she said,
struggling to regain her composure.

‘I have only just arrived,’ he replied, his breathing a trifle ragged. ‘I came here at once.’

‘You mean you have not been first to see Miss Thornwood?’

He looked shamefaced. ‘I have not been to Lammerton Hall yet,’ he explained. ‘I couldn’t wait a moment longer to see you.’

She was torn between a secret joy at this fresh proof of his ardour, and a horror of the delicate position in which his rash actions could place them both.

‘This must not happen again,’ she stressed, as much to herself as to him. ‘Ever since Salisbury, I have known—’

‘I regret nothing that happened that day,’ he said. The fierce, stubborn look on his face reminded her so much of Nicky that she felt a suspicious pricking behind her eyelids. ‘How beautiful you are,’ he continued softly. The cathedral was the perfect setting for you, Bess. You look like a Florentine madonna - or an angel.’

She stood up quickly. It seemed he was not going to listen to reason. ‘I might be many things, but I am no angel. Could anything be less angelic than my behaviour in the chapter-house?’

‘I hold myself entirely to blame for that.’

‘I was as much to blame as you,’ she said more calmly. ‘Only imagine what your aunt would have said had she seen us that day!’

‘Aunt Winnie loves you, Bess.’ He gave a crooked smile. ‘She is continually singing your praises.’

He stood, dusting the knee of his breeches where it had been soiled on the ground.

‘We must not see each other again,’ she said, speaking words that she would have given almost anything not to utter.

‘You know that is impossible,’ he answered. ‘Your sister and her husband are not only my neighbours, but also my friends. Why, you are all to attend the ball at my house in a few days.’

‘That will be in company, and quite respectable.’ She bit her lip.
‘I meant that we must not be alone together. It is too ... dangerous.’

‘Even in company, I fear I will betray myself,’ he confessed. ‘How long can it be before our friends guess?’

‘Perhaps I should not attend the ball,’ she said. ‘I could cry off and say that I have the headache.’

‘And how many,’ he retorted, ‘would believe you?’

She sighed. ‘Your visit here today was the height of folly.’

‘Forgive me.’ He mouthed the words of contrition, though he looked more like a sulky schoolboy.

‘I love you too much to do anything else,’ she answered.

‘Bess—’ He reached out, but she drew back.

‘You must go now. Gwendolyn will be anxious to see you.’

He said nothing, only bowed awkwardly and left her. Soon after that, Elizabeth returned to the house with the children. The heat seemed to have oppressed even the dauntless spirits of Selina and Nicky.

* * * *

Tired as she was, Elizabeth could not lie down. She stood at her window, staring out in the general direction of Lammerton Hall. How many more scenes like the one today could she endure?

The longer she reflected upon the matter, the clearer it became that there was only one solution. She must leave Wiltshire, and soon. The danger of continued intimacy was too great, and her powers of resistance were waning daily.

Their love had been futile from the beginning. This end was only what should have been expected. But she knew that when his marriage to Gwendolyn was an accomplished fact, nothing on earth would be able to heal the wound it would inflict upon her soul.

Worst of all, she was well aware that Dominick, though he would be outwardly faithful to his wife, would daily commit the most heinous adultery in his heart.

‘God have mercy on us both,’ she prayed silently. ‘We cannot help the way we feel.’

But they
could
regulate their actions, and perhaps time would dull the unbearable longing. All these years, she had never allowed herself to hope or dream that the man who had awakened her dormant passions would ever be hers. Unbidden, the tears came to her eyes, and she wept for what she had lost and what she had never had. She wept, too, for what Dominick had lost: the companionship and respect of his son, who would never know the father who had come to love him.

When Dorinda came to her later, the tears had dried, though Elizabeth knew her eyes must be red and swollen. Her sister made no comment, merely coming to kiss her cheek and sit beside her.

Dorinda then revealed to her Alastair’s ‘dark secret’. They both chuckled at her former suspicions. Elizabeth could not help but be concerned about the Barrowe finances until she learned how Dominick had rescued them. Knowing what he had done did not ease her heartache. It only made her loss that much harder to bear.

* * * *

That evening, the family gathered in the Egyptian salon at Merrywood, with its lotus-capped pillars, hieroglyphic moulding and walls decorated with gilt date-palm trees.

‘Where is Oswald?’ Elizabeth asked.

‘Peter Thornwood has kindly taken him off our hands this evening,’ Dorinda answered, with satisfaction. ‘Apparently, the viscount’s expert advice is required on the proper attire for a young gentleman at a country ball.’

‘To give the devil his due,’ Elizabeth said, ‘there is no one better suited to give such advice.’

‘All Chernden is invited to the ball, I believe,’ Alastair said, lounging next to his wife on a sofa whose arms were carved in the shape of king cobras. ‘It is fortunate that the workmen have finally
finished the plastering and gilding at the hall.’

‘Oh, Mr Markham’s ball is the talk of the neighbourhood! Nobody even mentions his betrothal to Gwendolyn any longer,’ Dorinda added thoughtlessly. ‘Although that is what the ball is intended to celebrate.’

Nicky and Selina were playing on the carpet nearby, scratching the exposed belly of Achilles, who was on his back, paws extended and tail wagging in mindless canine ecstasy. At this, however, Nicky abandoned the dog and bent a puzzled look upon his mother.

‘If Mr Markham is going to marry Miss Thornwood, Mama,’ he said, ‘why was he kissing
you
in the garden today?’

Elizabeth stared at her son in utter dismay. Of all the things to be betrayed by, a child’s innocence was the most ruinous.

‘But you were in the shrubbery when—’ she blurted out, then halted, wishing her tongue had shrivelled up in her mouth.

‘You should not speak of such things, Nicky!’ his aunt cried, attempting to salvage the scene.

‘But I saw them, too, Mama!’ Selina insisted.

‘We came back from the shrubbery to see if we might have some lemonade,’ Nicky explained, apparently in the belief that further evidence was all that was wanted to settle the matter. ‘We saw you through the gate.’

‘Kiffing,’ Selina put in, underscoring the interesting event.

‘I told Selina we had better go back,’ the little boy admitted. He then added with a certain adult astuteness, ‘I thought you would rather be left alone.’

‘Did you?’ Elizabeth almost choked on the words.

‘I thought
you
were going to marry Dominick,’ Nicky said to her, with obvious disappointment. ‘If he is going to marry Miss Thornwood, he should be kissing
her
.’

‘Nicky,’ Dorinda asked, going down on her knees before him,
‘tell me, would you like your mama to marry Mr Markham?’

‘Dorinda, for the love of God—’ Elizabeth implored.

‘I was hoping she would,’ the little boy confessed. Then, lowering his voice, ‘But I think he made her cry today. I don’t want him to do that again.’

Elizabeth caught the look in Nicky’s eyes, those eyes so much like her own. They were a little sad now, and questioning. She knew that she must do whatever she could to put his mind at rest.

‘Mr Markham did not make me cry, Nicky,’ she said, and saw the relief which lightened his countenance at once. ‘I am sure Mr Markham would never knowingly do anything to hurt either of us. It is only that I am very ... sad ... because we shall be leaving Merrywood quite soon now.’