Lady Beneath the Veil (17 page)

‘No. He is as careful as he is bad and most of his papers are in a strong-room. However, there is a locked drawer in his desk—he keeps the key, but it is a simple matter to open it.’ She grinned. ‘I knew a picklock once, and he showed me how to do it. At the back of the drawer I found some letters from France, from Jerome Rainault.’

‘My wife’s father,’ said Gideon. ‘But surely they are in French?’

Agnes nodded and allowed herself another smile. ‘They are, but that language is something else I picked up in my career! The letters were written years ago, to Max’s father. Monsieur Rainault consigns his wife and daughter to the earl’s care, but he is also anxious that little Dominique should have a dowry. He transferred a large amount of money from a French bank to Coutts, in the Strand. Martlesham holds it in trust for Mrs Rainault and her daughter.’

‘They certainly have no money now,’ said Gideon, frowning.

‘I know,’ replied Agnes. ‘The earl told me that Mrs Rainault and her daughter were his pensioners.’

‘Then it is all spent.’

‘That was my thought,’ she said slowly. ‘Until I saw a letter yesterday morning, from Coutts, concerning the Rainault funds. They have never been touched and Max wants them transferred to his own account.’

‘The devil!’ exclaimed Gideon. ‘I must see these documents.’

‘I thought that might be the case.’

‘You did not bring them with you?’

‘No, it was only after I saw you and your wife at the theatre last night that I decided to tell you, and I have not had a chance to get back into Max’s study.’

‘Why?’ Gideon stopped and turned to face her. ‘Why should you want to help me now?’

She spread her hands.

‘I told you, I don’t hold with the earl’s trickery. I’m up for a bit of fun, but he carried it too far, making that poor chit marry you. And you don’t need to tell me that he forced her into it, because I know his ways. And besides...’ she wrapped her arms around herself again, as if for protection ‘...I should be glad to see his lordship get a taste of his own medicine.’

‘Do you think you can still get those papers?’

‘Yes. The earl will be out tomorrow morning, taking his boxing lesson. That will be my chance. He ordered me to see you—to entice you—so he will not be surprised if I want the carriage again.’ She stopped and Gideon noticed that they had come full circle. ‘Meet me here again tomorrow, at noon.’

He hesitated.

‘You realise the risk, if Max should discover what you are about—’

She laughed. ‘He won’t. Don’t you worry about me, dearie. I have funds. He doesn’t know my real name, nor that I have a house of my own in Covent Garden that I rent out. I bought it with the money he gave me for my performance as his cousin. I shan’t hang around once I have given you the papers. But first, I want to pay him back, just a little.’

With a nod she left him, hurrying away through the trees, never once stopping to look back.

* * *

Gideon drove back to Chalcots, barely noticing the route. If what Agnes said was true, then Dominique was not the penniless bride she thought herself and he knew how much it would please her to know that. It was a risk, of course. This could be one more elaborate plot by Martlesham to drive a wedge between them, but instinct told him Agnes was sincere.

Should he tell Dominique? He had promised her he would not renew his acquaintance with Agnes, but surely this was different. And it might all come to nought. As he deftly turned the curricle through the gates and bowled along the drive towards Chalcots he decided he would say nothing until he had the papers and knew them to be genuine. If they were, then Dominique would be delighted and he was beginning to realise just how much her happiness meant to him.

* * *

Dominique stood alone in her bedchamber and gazed at the open trunk. She remembered when she and Gwen had sorted through its contents, pulling out shifts and negligees, finely embroidered stockings and gowns of such sheer muslin they could be folded and packed into a pocket book. Highly improper, all of them. The sort of things a mistress might wear. She lifted out a filmy negligee. It was so fine that her hands were visible, even through two layers of muslin. In her mind’s eye Dominique could see Agnes Bennet wearing such a gown, standing before Gideon, offering herself to him.

‘No! No, she shan’t have him.’

‘Did you call me, ma’am?’

Dominique quickly dropped the gossamer-thin garment back into the trunk and was closing the lid as her maid came into the room. A shimmering gown rested across her arms.

‘I was just looking out your green sarcenet, ma’am, for you to wear this evening, but if you would like something else...’

‘I
would
like something else,’ declared Dominique. ‘Fetch me my ruby satin, if you please.’ She glanced at the trunk. ‘But before that, bring me a glass of ratafia—a large glass, I think.’

* * *

An hour later she went downstairs, a fur-lined cloak over one arm, her free hand gripping the bannister. Perhaps it had not been wise to have a second glass of liqueur, but the idea of seducing her husband was rather alarming, and she felt in need of a little sustenance.

A footman jumped to open the drawing-room door for her and as she entered she had to resist the urge to pull up her low décolletage. Gideon was standing by the sideboard, pouring himself a glass of wine, but the rustle of her skirts alerted him. He glanced up.

Dominique experienced no little satisfaction as his eyes widened and the hand pouring the wine shook, spilling a few drops on to the white tray cloth. Gideon cleared his throat and bent a searching look upon her.

‘Is that a new gown?’

‘No, sir. I wore it to the Graysons’.’

There was a fine pier glass fixed atop the walnut console table and Dominique stopped before it to consider her appearance. The last time she had donned this gown she had put on a demure white-satin petticoat with puff sleeves and a wide lace edging that had discreetly covered her bosom. Now she wore one of the shifts from the trunk. The effect was quite startling. Instead of tiny white sleeves covering her shoulders the muslin was so fine it was almost transparent and the delicate lace around the neck merely drew the eye to the low neckline and the deep valley between her breasts.

Gideon came to stand behind her and she met his eyes in the mirror.

‘The colour suits you,’ he said. ‘And the way you have of dressing your hair.’ He raised his hand to touch the solitary ringlet hanging down and as his fingers grazed her skin she drew in a sharp breath. His hand moved from the curl to her neck. ‘Dominique—’

The soft knock on the door made them jump apart.

‘Sir, madam. Your carriage is at the door.’

Dominique noted Gideon’s blank look and it was a full minute before he could respond.

‘Ahem, yes, of course.’ Gideon drank down his wine, then picked up her cloak and placed it about her shoulders. ‘I could almost wish we were not going out this evening.’

The quiet words sent a delicious thrill running down her spine. So far her plan was working admirably. She peeped up at him through her lashes.

‘We need not stay for supper.’

Gideon was silent as he accompanied her to the door and a glance showed her that he was looking quite bemused. He said, when they were seated together in the coach, ‘Has anything occurred today, my dear? A visitor, perhaps? You seem...different.’

‘No, I have been at home alone all day.’ She tucked her hand in his arm. ‘That is why I am glad of your company tonight.’

* * *

Gideon said nothing, but he did not disengage himself and when they arrived in Grosvenor Square he helped her down and kept his hand firmly over hers as he accompanied her into the house. Lady Ribblestone’s brows rose when she saw them, but a number of other guests had already arrived, so there was no opportunity to speak privately then or during dinner. It was not until the ladies retired that Gwen managed to draw Dominique aside.

‘My dear, I have not seen that muslin on you before. It is outrageously revealing. What are you planning, you naughty puss?’

‘I am fighting for my husband, Gwen.’

‘If you are not careful, you will be fighting off everyone else’s,’ said Gwen frankly. She added, with the ghost of a sigh, ‘Even Ribblestone could not take his eyes off you tonight.’

Dominique spread her fan.

‘I have no interest in other men. I do not want to make my husband jealous, I just want him to notice me.’

‘Well, you will, love, you mark my words,’ retorted Gwen. ‘Gideon must be made of stone if he doesn’t realise that every man is looking at you tonight.’

* * *

If he had heard his sister’s words, Gideon could have assured her that he was feeling anything but stonelike. The sight of Dominique in that red gown was teasing him to distraction. He found it difficult to converse and even when the ladies had retired he wondered what she was doing in the drawing room, if she was thinking of him. He had frequently found her looking at him during dinner, although every time their eyes met she would blush adorably and glance away. Damnation, he wanted her so badly he could hardly sit still! And he wasn’t the only one to notice her. Every man in the room looked her way at some point—even old Mr Severn, who was seventy if he was a day, had raised his quizzing glass and positively ogled her.

And yet it could not be said that Dominique flaunted herself. She behaved with great modesty and charm all evening, but however frequently her eyes alighted on Gideon, he found it was not enough. He wanted to steal her away and keep her to himself.

Chapter Sixteen

‘Y
our wife is looking particularly well this evening,’ remarked Anthony, when at last they made their way to the drawing room. ‘Motherhood agrees with her.’

Gideon let his eyes rest upon his wife, who was sitting beside Gwen, laughing at something Lord Grayson was saying to her. Was this the same unhappy lady he had seen at breakfast? The sparkle in her eyes, the alluring tilt to her mouth, was captivating. Motherhood had certainly developed her figure, which looked truly delectable. The swell of her breasts rose from the low décolletage and the creamy tones of her skin were complemented by the vivid colour of her gown. But he could not forget the droop of her mouth this morning and her slightly sad, distracted air. A tiny worm of jealousy gnawed at him. He said suddenly, ‘Do you think she has a lover?’

To his immense relief, Lord Ribblestone laughed.

‘No, I do not. I believe this is all for you.’ He clapped his hand on Gideon’s shoulder. ‘If Gwendoline tried such tactics with me, my friend, I should consider myself a very lucky man. I should certainly not be wasting my time chasing some lightskirt in Green Park.’ Gideon’s head came up and Ribblestone nodded. ‘I saw you there this morning. You know I often walk in the park when I need to think things out before a difficult cabinet meeting.’

‘It was not—that is, it is not what it seems.’

‘No?’

‘As a matter of fact I was there to learn something to my wife’s advantage.’

‘I have heard some excuses in my time—’

‘It is
not
an excuse,’ Gideon muttered furiously. ‘The woman has evidence that Martlesham is trying to defraud Dominique of her inheritance.’

‘So Dominique knows of this meeting?’

‘Well, no.’

‘And are you going to tell her?’

‘Yes, of course, eventually. I don’t want to raise her hopes, in case it all proves a hum.’

For once there was no smile in Anthony’s eyes as he regarded him.

‘I think you are playing with fire,’ he said at last. ‘But then, that is the way with the Alburys. They have no notion of how fortunate they are in their partners.’

* * *

From the sofa on the far side of the room, Dominique and Gwendoline watched this exchange.

‘If I am not mistaken, you are causing my brother considerable consternation this evening,’ Gwendoline murmured. ‘He does not know what to make of you.’ She slanted a glance at Dominique. ‘That is what you wanted, is it not?’

‘I
think
so.’

Dominique clasped her hands tightly together in her lap. Gwen reached over and gave them a squeeze.

‘Do not lose your nerve now, my dear. Gideon is quite besotted with you tonight.’

She went off to mingle with her other guests and Dominique was left alone with her thoughts, but not for long—Mr Severn was making his way towards her. With a sad want of manners Gideon slipped past him and sat down beside her. The old man stopped in his tracks, then turned and moved off, muttering. Dominique felt a smile bubbling up.

‘You show scant respect for your elders, Gideon.’

‘Would you prefer that elderly roué’s company to mine?’

His voice wrapped about her, deep and rich as warm velvet, and the glow in his eyes sent a frisson of excitement through her. Dominique spread her fan and peeped at him over the top.

‘It would be most unfashionable of me to agree, sir.’

‘And who says we must be slaves to fashion?’ He leaned closer. ‘Shall we make our excuses now? I want to take you home.’

Her heart leaped at his words. It began to thud erratically against her ribs—surely he must hear it? She could feel the hot blush in her cheeks and kept her fan raised as she tried to answer demurely.

‘It
is
a long drive to Chalcots.’

He turned to look at her, resting one arm along the back of the sofa. She could feel his fingers resting lightly on the nape of her neck, a gentle, sensual touch that bewitched her.

‘If we stay to supper we shall be damnably late.’

Swallowing, she struggled to match his indifferent tone.

‘G-Gwen promised us cards later. Are you sure you do not want to stay and play a hand?’

‘There is only one hand I want to play tonight, my dear,’ he murmured provocatively. ‘Shall we go?’

She could only nod. Her eyes were fixed on his mouth, the finely sculpted lips which curved now into a smile so devastating she thought she might melt. The feeling intensified when he raised her hand to his lips.

‘I shall go now and ask Anthony to order our carriage.’

‘What excuse will you give him?’

She was suddenly anxious and was only partly relieved by Gideon’s wicked grin.

‘No excuse will be necessary.’

* * *

Gwen saw her husband on the landing and stepped out to join him. He was staring down into the empty hall, a little smile on his lips. She reached out and touched his arm.

‘I cannot find Dominique or Gideon.’

‘He has taken her home.’

‘Really?’ She clapped her hands in delight. ‘She was looking particularly delightful tonight.’

‘Ravishing.’

Her smile slipped a little.

‘Yes. All the men were looking at her. Including you.’

He turned towards her, a look she could not interpret in his grey eyes.

‘I am surprised you noticed, since you were busy flirting with Arndale.’

‘Sir Desmond?’ She fluttered her fan. ‘I was not—’

‘Don’t lie to me, Gwen. I am growing weary of your games, my dear.’

‘G-games, my lord?’

He caught the fan, his long fingers closing it up and pulling it from her hand.

‘It has gone on long enough, madam, your flirtations and intrigues. I do not want to come home and learn that you are out at this party, or that rout. I need you here, supporting me, do I make myself clear?’

There was something implacable about Anthony’s stern gaze that made Gwen’s heart flip. She gave an uncertain little laugh.

‘La, you are very masterful tonight, my lord. If I did not know better, I would think you were jealous.’

He did not smile.

‘If you do not mend your ways, madam, you will discover just how masterful I can be.’

He held out the fan, and when she took it he turned on his heel and walked away.

* * *

‘Oh, that was quite, quite terrible,’ cried Dominiqiue, when she and Gideon were in their carriage and homeward bound. ‘Everyone was smiling when we got up to leave! And, and—oh, heavens. They will think that we, that we—’

‘And is that not the truth of it?’ He caught her fingers and held them in a warm, sustaining clasp. ‘I wanted you to myself, to make love to you.’

‘Oh, Gideon.’ She tried to make out his face in the near darkness. Whatever the outcome, she must be honest now. ‘That is what I want, too.’

With a growl he pulled her into his arms, seeking her mouth, teasing her lips apart so that his tongue could plunder and explore. She responded instantly, aware that this was the first time since their wedding night, a full twelve months ago, that they had come together in passion, rather than the restrained couplings of the marriage bed.

He tugged at the strings of her cloak until it fell away and his mouth moved to that sensitive spot below her ear, where the touch of his lips made her pulse leap alarmingly. He touched her jaw with light, butterfly kisses, continued down the slender column of her neck, his tongue flickering in the hollow at the base of her throat and making her moan softly. She leaned into him, her breasts hot and aching as they pushed against the restrictions of her gown. His hands smoothed over her shoulders, pushing aside the muslin sleeves and leaving her skin free for more kisses. Dominique reached out for him, fumbling with the buttons of his waistcoat and shirt. She slid her hand under the fine linen and caressed the smooth, hard frame of his chest.

The coach lurched over a particularly uneven section of the road and they were thrown apart. Dominique fell back into the corner while Gideon slipped to the carriage floor. She expected him to jump up, but instead he remained on his knees, gently pushing aside the whispering skirts. She caught her breath as his hands caressed the soft skin of her inner thigh. Where his fingers explored his mouth followed. He slid his hands under her bottom and pulled her towards him, holding her firm while he kissed her even more intimately, his mouth and tongue caressing her until she was crying out at the sheer, swooning pleasure of his touch. Time stopped. The rocking of the carriage merely enhanced the intolerable delight he was inflicting upon her, carrying her out of her body into the soaring, weightless heights of ecstasy.

When at last he ceased the relentless pleasuring she reached out for him, driving her fingers through his hair, tugging at the shoulders of his coat and pulling him up so she could kiss him. Excitement welled even further when she tasted herself on his lips. With a groan he held himself away from her and slid on to the bench.

‘By God I cannot hold out much longer.’ He quickly unfastened his breeches, pulling her on to his lap. ‘Time for you to come to me.’

Eagerly she straddled him. He held her hips firmly and pushed himself into her slick heat. Dominique gasped, putting her hands on his shoulders to steady herself as he thrust again, and this time she was prepared. She pressed down on him, matching his movements, elated by his groans of pleasure as she rode him, exulting in the feel of his hard length inside her. She was almost out of control with the delicious torment, bucking and shuddering, but he held on to her, driving ever deeper into her until the final juddering thrust. She barely heard his shout of triumph for her own head was thrown back, her eyes closed as she tensed and shuddered and her consciousness exploded into a million stars.

* * *

Dominique collapsed against him and he held her close, his breathing ragged. Her whole body was glowing, like the hot coals of a fire after the first, hectic blaze has died down.

‘Oh, heavens,’ she murmured at last, her head on his chest where she could feel the hammering of his heart against her cheek. ‘Have I behaved very wantonly? I do beg your pardon.’

His arms tightened.

‘You have been quite delightful this evening, if a little surprising.’

Being in his arms was blissful, but she needed to explain so she pushed herself away into the corner.

‘I w-wanted you to notice me. I have tried so hard to be a good wife to you, but you never come to my bed any more. And I—I
miss
you.’

Gideon sat up and straightened his clothes.

‘I have kept my distance because I do not want to harm you, Dominique,’ he said quietly. ‘I cannot forget what my mother went through.’

‘Your mama had too many children too quickly.’ She clasped her hands together. She had overcome her embarrassment to talk to the kindly doctor about it, now she must talk to her husband. ‘I am very healthy, Gideon, Dr Bolton says so, and he also says we need not—need not refrain.’ She added, her voice little more than a whisper, ‘Unless you do not want me.’

With a shaky laugh he reached for her.

‘After what we have just done you will know that is not the case.’ He tilted up her chin and kissed her. ‘I shall share your bed tonight, Dominique, and every night, if you will allow. And with a little care we can avoid making you with child again too often.’ The coach slowed and turned. Gideon lifted his head. ‘We are home, my dear.’ He replaced her cloak on her shoulders and as the carriage came to a halt he jumped down on to the drive, turning back to hold out his hand to her. ‘Shall we go in?’

‘I am not sure I can walk,’ she confessed as he helped her out of the carriage.

‘Then I shall carry you, as I should have done when you first came here.’ With that he swept her up into his arms, explaining to the astonished Thomas that Mrs Albury was feeling a little faint.

Dominique slipped her arms about his neck and buried her face in his shoulder as he carried her up the stairs, knowing that if the butler saw the glow on her cheeks it would give the lie to Gideon’s words. Somehow he managed to open the door to her bedchamber and dismissed her startled maid.

‘There. That will set the household ringing with conjecture! Now, can you stand? I want to look at you.’

He set her on her feet and pushed the cloak from her shoulders before running his hands down her arms and catching her hands. In the glow of candlelight the ruby gown was almost as dark as her glorious hair. A few glossy curls had escaped and now lay in wayward abandon against the creamy skin of her breasts. They were rising and falling rapidly and the fire in his loins began to burn again. He wanted to tell her how beautiful she was, how much he loved her, but when he looked into her eyes and saw the heat of desire in their emerald depths he lost the ability to speak. Silently he pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

Slowly he unlaced her bodice and with a soft sigh the ruby satin fell in a dark pool at her feet. She stood before him in her shift, a gossamer-thin layer that hid nothing, only enhanced the lines of her body and the beautifully rounded breasts, their pink roseate tips delectably visible. He reached out to take the pins from her hair, while she began to undress him.

They did not pause until every last stitch had been shed. They were standing before the fire and he held her away from him, drinking in the perfection of her body, golden in the firelight. She dropped her head, allowing the dark waterfall of her hair to shimmer over her body. Gently he pushed the dusky locks back over her shoulders, then put his fingers under her chin and tilted her face up to look at him.

‘My wife,’ he murmured and, unable to resist any longer, he swept her up and carried her to the bed.

* * *

When Dominique awoke she was alone. Sunlight filled the room and she stretched luxuriously, feeling the cool sheets against her skin. She had a new awareness of her body and she smiled, thinking it unsurprising, since Gideon had kissed every last inch of it at least twice during the night. When he had first taken her to the bed they had made love slowly and languorously, taking time to explore each other until desire swept them up and carried them to the final consummation. She had fallen asleep in his arms, only to wake at some point in the darkest hours to find they were making love again.