Lady Beneath the Veil (13 page)

‘That is because the wainscoting has been polished for the first time in years,’ she retorted. ‘It is surprising what a little beeswax can do.’

‘You are much braver than I,’ he replied. ‘I should have been afraid to mention it. Mrs Ellis is not one to take criticism kindly.’

She chuckled. ‘I won her over with a supply of French barley and Jamaican pepper.’

Gideon stopped and looked down at her, his eyes brimful of laughter.

‘So that is why you had to go shopping again before we left Brook Street. You were stocking up with bribes!’

‘Not bribes...’ she twinkled back at him ‘...merely a few treats to ease my path—oh!’

She stopped.

‘What is it? Nicky? Are you well?’

She looked up at him, a soft light shining in her eyes.

‘Yes,’ she breathed. ‘I felt the baby move.’ She took his hand and placed it on her stomach. ‘Wait.’

They stood for a moment, surrounded by sunlight and birdsong.

‘Yes! Yes, I felt it, too.’ Gideon gave a delighted laugh. ‘My child.’ He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her gently. ‘At last it feels real. Is that the first time you have noticed it?’

‘I suspected it before, but it was never so certain.’

‘It is like a miracle.’ He tucked her arm in his again and they resumed their walk. ‘I would like to feel my child kicking every day.’

‘Then stay, at least a few more days.’

Seeing her shy, hopeful smile, Gideon was sorely tempted, but he glanced up at that moment and saw the viscount at the drawing-room window. A lonely figure gazing down at them, reminding him of the perils of loving one’s wife too much.

‘You would soon grow tired of my company,’ he said lightly. ‘Besides, I promised Gwen I would look in upon her at Brighton. Then I have to set work in motion at Chalcots, if it is to be ready for you and the baby.’

‘Yes, of course.’

Was that a sigh in her voice? She had schooled her face into a smile and began to talk on other subjects. It was for the best, he told himself. Time away from Nicky would be a good idea. He was growing far too fond of her.

* * *

Dominique knew she had erred. Gideon had withdrawn from her as soon as she had asked him to stay, the moment she had shown a weakness, a desire to cling to him. Pride came to her aid and helped her to hide her disappointment. She was his wife, the mother of his child, but he could not love her and she must not expect it.

* * *

Dominique’s sunny spirits had revived by the following morning and she stood at the door with the viscount to watch Gideon ride away. When they turned to go back into the house Lord Rotham held out his arm to her.

‘How am I to entertain you, my dear? I would not have you suffering from ennui.’

‘What with paying morning visits and receiving them, and the house to look after, I am well entertained, my lord.’

‘You must not overtire yourself,’ he said quickly.

She laughed as she preceded him into the house.

‘I promise you I shall not do that. However, there
is
a little change I should like to propose.’

Those hazel eyes, so like Gideon’s, held a wary smile. ‘Well, madam?’

‘I think we should dine in the breakfast room. With just the two of us it seems so silly to use the dining room. The servants have to carry everything twice as far and the table is so very long...’

She thought for a moment he was going to refuse, but after regarding her soberly for a moment he turned and made his way across to his study, saying over his shoulder, ‘Whatever you think fit, my dear. Tell Colne to organise it.’

* * *

In an effort to keep herself from missing Gideon, Dominique threw herself into the running of the house. Her body was swelling and she was a little apprehensive, especially when she saw the viscount regarding her so anxiously, but she put her faith in Dr Bolton, who had told her she was perfectly healthy. Besides, there was far too much to do for her to take to her bed. She persuaded the viscount to allow the aged gardener to take on another boy, so that the shrubbery could be tidied up and the paths weeded. Inside the house she explored rooms that had been shut up for years, opening windows and ordering chimneys to be swept in readiness for the winter. She found trunks of material in the attics and used some of it to make cushions, which she scattered on the carved wooden chairs in the drawing room.

Gradually, as summer wore on, the old house came alive under her care, and such was her tact that the servants were happy to oblige her, polishing and dusting and cleaning the rooms until Mrs Ellis declared that the old house was looking almost as good as it had done when Lady Rotham was alive. She also confided to Colne that the master was looking better for the company.

‘Aye,’ returned the butler, ‘he has even ordered the carriage tomorrow, to drive out with Mrs Albury. That will be the first time he has been further than the park for years, save to go to church on Sundays. Bringing the master out of himself, she is. She’s proving herself to be a godsend, Mrs Ellis, even if Master Gideon was hoaxed into marrying her.’

The housekeeper wagged a finger at him, frowning.

‘I hold no truck with that rumour and I’ll thank you not to repeat it in front of the servants, Mr Colne.’

‘As if I would,’ he retorted, affronted. ‘But ’tis what Warner told me Master Gideon had written to his father. Tricked, he was, by the lady’s cousin, Lord Martlesham, and that wild set the young master used to run around with.’

‘That’s as may be, but Master Gideon is changed now, anyone can see that.’ Mrs Ellis folded her arms, a satisfied twinkle in her kindly eyes. ‘He and the new mistress is a match made in heaven, you mark my words.’

* * *

With a liveried coachman on the box and a footman standing up behind them, Dominique found her drive out with the viscount a much more stately excursion than when Gideon had taken her out in the phaeton, but she enjoyed it very much, as she told her father-in-law when he expressed his surprise at finding her in the drawing room after dinner that night.

‘You have had a busy day, my dear. I would not have you tire yourself by sitting here with me late into the night.’

She laughed at that.

‘A steady drive with you was a tonic, my lord, and not exhausting at all.’

‘Nevertheless, I have sent a note to Dr Bolton to call tomorrow morning to see you.’

‘I saw him two days ago and he declared me perfectly healthy.’ Dominique bit her lip, then added in a milder tone, ‘As I explained to Gideon several times, I always feel better for a little fresh air.’

‘My son is anxious for your well-being.’

‘A little too anxious,’ she replied, smiling. ‘Before we left London Dr Harris told him that we ladies should not be cosseted and encouraged to think ourselves ill—’ She broke off, flushing, and added haltingly, ‘I beg your pardon. I realise that not everyone is as fortunate in their health.’

‘You are thinking of Gideon’s mother.’

‘Yes. I am very sorry if my condition brings back unhappy memories.’

‘It does, but your presence at Rotham more than compensates for that.’ He stared into the fire. ‘It was my fault, you see.’

‘My lord—’

‘I loved her too much, and she—she could deny me nothing. I wore her out.’

He put a hand across his eyes. They were sitting together on the sofa before the fire and she touched his arm.

‘Lord Rotham, I am sure—’

He shook his head.

‘There is no excuse. She was delicate and I was too hot-headed, too passionate.’ He put his weight on his stick to get up and walk to the hearth. ‘I only realised what I had lost after she had died. But I made sure Gideon knew of it. I would not have him make the same mistake in his own marriage.’

Dominique thought of Gideon’s letters. They were cheery, full of the entertainments and diversions he was enjoying. She could not believe he had gone away to avoid temptation.

‘I think your case was very different,’ she said candidly. ‘You were very much in love with your wife.’

‘Ah.’ He rested one arm on the mantelshelf and gazed down into the empty fireplace. ‘That is something else for which you should blame me, my dear. I am the reason Gideon plunged into marriage.

‘When James was... After James died, I refused to let Gideon leave Rotham. He was my heir and I needed him to learn about the estate. He was a young man and needed to see more of the world, I should have understood that. When he inherited the Telford fortune it was only natural he should kick over the traces and go off to town. I live very retired here, but I have acquaintances in London and what I heard of Martlesham’s set worried me deeply. Even then I could not see that it was my own doing—if only I had been less hard on the boy—!

‘Last December, when Gideon came home, I could only criticise his way of life. Is it any wonder that he stormed off back to his friends?’ He turned to look at Dominique, the sadness of the world in his eyes. ‘It resulted in a marriage neither of you wanted and I beg your pardon, my dear.’

Dominique forced a smile.

‘What is done cannot be undone, but I intend to be a good wife to Gideon.’ She went over to him, reaching out to take his hands. ‘My lord, I am not a delicate flower from the hothouse that wilts at the first chill breeze. My mother always told me I came of sturdy stock. I promise you if I am tired I shall rest, but otherwise let me do my duty here.’

He regarded her silently for a long, long moment, then nodded.

‘Very well. I will send again to Bolton in the morning and tell him not to call. You must forgive me, my dear, I am an interfering old fool.’

With great daring she reached up and planted a kiss on his lean cheek.

‘No, sir, you are my caring papa-in-law and I am very grateful for your interest in me.’

With that she said goodnight and went up to her room to reflect upon everything she had heard. It explained a great deal, but confirmed her worst fears.

‘A marriage neither of you wanted.’

Well, she was not the first unloved bride, and she would not be the last, but she would make the best of her situation.

Chapter Twelve

G
ideon was restless. In previous summers he had enjoyed making his way from one house party to another, but this year nothing pleased him. Even in Brighton with Gwen and Anthony his mind constantly wandered to Rotham.

He corresponded regularly with Nicky, but was a little disappointed that she did not appear to be missing him. At the end of August he made his excuses to leave Brighton and went to Chalcots. He had visited the house only once since he had inherited it—after all, the Brook Street house was much more convenient for when he was in town, but now he realised that this pretty little villa would make an ideal family home and he began to draw up plans for its refurbishment.

September slipped by as he threw himself into the work at Chalcots, exchanging letters with Nicky on colour schemes and plans for the gardens. With all the work he had put in hand the house was quite uninhabitable and he resided at Brook Street, but did not even consider going to the clubs, theatres and gambling dens that he had frequented as a bachelor. He spent his evenings writing to Nicky, or reading her letters.

He was sitting in his study, the cheerful fire there driving off the first chill of autumn, when he realised with a shock how much he missed her and, instead of picking up his pen, he gathered up all the drawings and swatches into a pile. He would take them to Rotham and discuss them with her in person. Tomorrow.

* * *

Once the decision had been made he was eager to get away and, after making sure that the builders and decorators knew exactly what was expected of them, he set off, arriving late in the afternoon, tired and dusty, to find the house in uproar. Servants scurried about, too absorbed to notice him. Intrigued, he left his horse in the stables and quickly ran into the house, but arriving in the great hall he stopped and stared in amazement at the scene of feverish activity. The gardener’s boy was carrying in armfuls of plants and flowers while the maids were busy covering trestle tables with snowy cloths. And in the midst of it all, issuing directions, was Nicky. Her condition was very evident, but there was a bloom about her that he had not seen before. She looked...radiant.

At that moment she saw him and, after a quiet word to the housekeeper, she came towards him, hands held out. His heart lifted at the sight of her welcoming smile. He took her hands, pressing a kiss on to each in turn.

‘What is this, madam?’ he demanded with mock severity. ‘I am away for a few weeks and return to find Rotham in chaos!’

She laughed.

‘We are holding a harvest supper tonight. I am so glad you are here, you will be able to join us.’

‘We have not celebrated the harvest here since Mama died.’

Long-buried memories returned as he watched the preparations and heard the snatches of song and laughter coming from the servants as they worked. That, too, was something he had not heard for many years.

He brought his gaze back to her face and grinned. ‘How did you cajole my father into this?’

‘I was reading
Robinson Crusoe
to him—’

‘Wait!’ He put up his hand. ‘You were
reading
to Father?’

‘Why, yes. It would be very monotonous if I could only entertain him with my music, so we play at backgammon or cards, and when the tea tray is brought in I read to him. I bought a number of my favourite works to bring with me. Lord Rotham enjoyed
The History of Sir Charles Grandison
, and Sterne’s
Tristram Shandy
although I have not suggested I should read him Mrs Radcliffe’s
The Mysteries of Udolpho
...’

‘No, don’t,’ said Gideon, his mind reeling at this new vision of his father. ‘I beg your pardon, I interrupted you.’ He waved his hand towards the hall. ‘You were telling me how all this came about.’

‘Well, Defoe mentions sowing seeds and I merely
suggested
that he might like to hold a harvest supper.’

‘And where is my father now?’

‘In his study, keeping out of the way.’ She tried to look serious and failed, going off into a peal of laughter.

Gideon found himself laughing, too, but he sobered quickly.

‘I am surprised Father allows you to do so much. He was more anxious than I that you should not overtax yourself.’

‘I am
not
overtaxing myself, Gideon. Your father and I agreed that I am the best person to know just what I can do.’ He was not convinced, but she merely shook her head at him, her green eyes full of warm amusement. ‘Pray do not be anxious for me, sir. My role here is merely to oversee matters. To prove it, I shall leave the rest to Mrs Ellis and take you away for some refreshment.’

As she led him upstairs to the drawing room, he noticed that the house no longer had a sad air of neglect. Fresh flowers adorned side tables, brass wall sconces gleamed and the grand staircase smelled of beeswax and lavender. The drawing room, too, was much more comfortable. Furniture had been moved into a less formal arrangement, curtains were thrown wide and the hard wooden chairs were covered in cushions.

* * *

His valet had also noticed the difference, as he told Gideon when he went upstairs to change.

‘Warner tells me the viscount is like a new man. When Mrs Albury began changing things he thought there would be hell to pay, but it seems his lordship is content to let her have her way. And none of the staff have left, either, which was a worry, when the mistress began wanting this cleaned, and that moved, but, no, she’s charmed ’em all, just like she did at Brook Street.’

‘Yes, well...’ Gideon buttoned his jacket, a slight frown creasing his brow ‘...I only hope she does not find it all too much for her.’

‘Not Mrs Albury,’ opined Runcorn confidently. ‘She’s as canny as she can hold together and knows what she is about.’

Gideon bent a searching look upon the valet.

‘Do you think her scheming, then?’

Runcorn stepped back, a mixture of shock and outrage contorting his features.

‘In no wise, sir! I hears nothing but good of the mistress from everyone who’s met her. A proper lady she is, and no mistake.’

Gideon was relieved to know that Nicky was so well respected at Rotham, but he was still concerned that she was doing too much.

* * *

He found his opinion shared by the viscount. They were sitting together after the harvest supper, watching as the room was cleared for dancing.

Gideon’s eyes were on Nicky as she left the minstrels’ gallery after talking to the musicians. He heard his father murmur that she had been up since dawn and must be exhausted.

‘She took a rest this afternoon,’ said Gideon, ‘but it was only a short one.’ He jumped up to hold her seat for her when she returned to the top table. ‘My father was just saying how tired you must be.’

‘Not as tired as you,’ she countered. ‘You only arrived at Rotham today.’

The musicians struck up a lively tune and a number of couples took to the floor.

‘You will not dance.’ Her brows shot up and he added quickly, ‘I beg your pardon, I do not mean to browbeat you, but I am concerned,’

She smiled. ‘And I am grateful for it. You are right, this is far too energetic for me, but you must dance, Gideon. I believe it was always the custom for everyone to stand up together, was it not, my lord?’

‘Aye, in the old days,’ agreed the viscount, ‘although I do not dance now.’

‘Then your son must do the honours,’ she declared, giving Gideon’s hand a squeeze. ‘Go along, sir, and do your duty.’

Smiling, Gideon went off to find partners for a succession of energetic country dances. The mood was very merry and the old rafters echoed with laughter and good cheer. When he returned to the top table Nicky pushed back her chair and rose.

‘It looks such fun that I must join in.’

‘Oh, no, you must not.’

‘I have not worked so hard on this party to be denied.’

‘Pray consider, madam, it would be most unwise,’ put in the viscount, frowning.

Dominique pointed to a lady moving ponderously to join the new set that was forming.

‘Mrs Plover is even more advanced than I.’ She fixed her eyes upon Gideon. ‘I am not so delicate that I must sit out every dance, sir. I may not be able to dance a fast jig, but I shall join in this more stately measure.’ A mischievous smile lilted on her lips. ‘Which is why I instructed the musicians to play something slower. Now, will you partner me?’

She saw the smouldering fire in Gideon’s eyes and wondered if she had gone too far. The viscount laughed.

‘Your wife is a very determined lady, Gideon.’

The anger was replaced by a reluctant gleam. And there was something else in the back of those hazel eyes that set her spirits soaring. Admiration.

‘I am beginning to learn that, sir.’ Grinning, Gideon took her hand and led her off to join the next set.

He felt a curious rush of pride at the spontaneous applause that greeted them. It was something of a surprise to find how well she had been accepted at Rotham. The servants called her ‘the new mistress’ and even his father had warmed to her, despite her French blood.

* * *

The harvest supper was hailed as a success, and although the servants were clearly stifling yawns as they served breakfast the next morning there was an air of gaiety about the house that Gideon had not known for years. Nicky was already downstairs and looking none the worse for her exertions and the viscount was positively jovial when he greeted his son.

‘I thought I should be breaking my fast alone this morning,’ Gideon remarked, smiling.

He noted the bloom on Nicky’s cheeks. The thin, rather nervous girl he had married was gone, replaced by a cheerful, confident woman. He decided he liked the change. However, when the viscount suggested she should rest for the day, Gideon could only agree.

‘You must think of the child you are carrying,’ he told her, softening his words with a smile.

‘But I had planned to take a carriage ride today with Lord Rotham,’ she protested. ‘It has become our custom—’

‘Out of the question,’ replied the viscount firmly. ‘I would much rather you took a rest today.’ He hesitated. ‘I thought perhaps Gideon might ride out with me, to see the improvements that have been made to the estate.’

Dominique quickly perceived that she had been outmanoeuvred. The viscount was extending an olive branch to his son and he knew she would not do anything to prevent Gideon accepting this peace offering.

‘Yes, of course, sir,’ said Gideon. ‘But I have the renovations at Chalcots to discuss with Nicky.’

Smiling, Dominique shook her head.

‘We can do that later. I shall spend the morning attending to my correspondence.’ She added shyly, ‘But perhaps, Gideon, if the weather holds, you would take a turn in the garden with me when you come back?’

The alacrity of his assent was reassuring and she went off to write her letters. The windows of the morning room commanded a good view of the park, and she happened to look up sometime later to see Gideon and his father riding off together. They looked to be conversing and she hoped that this was the beginning of a better understanding between father and son.

* * *

The pair did not return until late afternoon and Gideon went immediately in search of his wife.

‘If you still wish to stroll in the gardens, I am at your command,’ he told her. ‘As long as you do not mind me in all my dirt.’

‘Not in the least.’ She laughed at him and, taking his arm, she accompanied him out to the shrubbery.

It was a beautiful afternoon with just enough breeze to prevent the heat from being uncomfortable.

‘The gardens look better than I remember,’ remarked Gideon.

‘Your father gave permission for another apprentice gardener.’

He slanted a look down at her.

‘At your suggestion? Of course it was, you have no need to tell me.’ He stopped and smiled at her. ‘You have made a great difference to this house, my dear. I have much to thank you for.’

A stray curl fluttered across her face and Gideon gently pushed the tendril behind her ear. His hand hovered for a moment, cupping her cheek, and she gazed up at him, a shy smile in her eyes. He drew back immediately, alarmed at how quickly the slumbering desire deep inside him had awoken. He looked away and they began to walk on.

‘Father and I talked, when we rode out this morning,’ he said. ‘It is a long time since we did anything together save quarrel.’

‘I am glad. One should not be at odds with one’s family.’

He heard the sadness in her voice and asked quickly, ‘Have you had news of your father?’

She shook her head, frowning.

‘No, it is not that. It is Max.’

‘The earl? What has he been doing now?’

‘It is rather what he did
not
do.’ She bit her lip. ‘When we lived at the Abbey Mama gave nearly all her letters to Max to frank, but since moving to the village she has been going to the posting office. The number of replies she receives now makes me think that my cousin was throwing her letters away.’

‘It would be just like Martlesham to discard the letters and say nothing about it, if he thought Jerome Rainault was dead.’ He patted her hand, keen to give her thoughts a happier turn. ‘My father has suggested you should invite your mother to come here, at least until your confinement.’ She stared at him and he added, ‘Father knows how much pleasure Mrs Rainault’s letters give you and thought you might feel happier with her close at hand.’

Relief shone in her eyes.

‘Oh, I would. So...yes, yes, please. I shall write to her this very day. I did not like to ask the viscount—’

‘Why not? You have shown no fear in persuading him to do so many other things.’

‘Ah, but that was for Rotham.’

He stopped and gave her a quick hug.

‘Dear Nicky, so brave about doing what you see as your duty, yet you would not ask for something for yourself.’

The weight of his arm on her shoulders, his body pressed close to her own, roused the now familiar desire inside her. The warmth in his gaze quickened her pulse, heating her blood. Their eyes were locked, saying so much more than could ever be put into words—but perhaps that was only her interpretation. Wishful thinking.