Mesalliance (24 page)

‘You would
think that, of course. But why shouldn’t I have a care for a chit
I’ve known since she was ten years old? Especially since it seems
you’re too damned busy to do it.’ On which Parthian shot, he left
them.

Grey eyes met
black.

‘Touchy, isn’t
he?’ asked Jack, companionably. And then, ‘I think you’d better
prepare to welcome him into the family.’

‘Probably.’
Rockliffe shuffled the cards with casual expertise. ‘If, that is,
Nell ever decides to look beyond the end of her nose. Will you deal
– or shall I?’

*

On the
following morning he entered Adeline’s room to find her sitting up
in bed, sipping her chocolate and sifting through a number of
gilt-edged invitations. The dark brown hair cascaded around her
shoulders and over a thin, blue silk nightgown, threaded
interestingly with silver ribbon. Rockliffe’s heart missed its
accustomed beat and caused him to pause for an infinitesimal second
before moving calmly on.

Adeline,
meanwhile, narrowly avoided choking on her chocolate and felt
herself blushing. It was not that he was any longer a stranger to
her rooms – for, since the night of the Bedford House ball, he had
made a habit of attending the final stages of her
toilette
and even, sometimes, of staying to talk with her while she
discarded her jewels at night. It was, however, the first time he
had caught her in bed … and she felt decidedly disadvantaged by
it.

‘Good morning,’
he said. And, as Jeanne discreetly removed herself, ‘You look
delightful.’

‘Are you sure
you don’t mean untidy,’ she asked, striving for her normal tone and
sternly repressing a childish inclination to pull the covers up to
her chin. She eyed his austere black coat and polished top-boots.
‘You’re up and dressed betimes. Are you going somewhere?’

‘With
reluctance, yes.’ He crossed the room to sit on the side of her
bed. ‘A small matter of business necessitates a visit to the
country. And suddenly I find I do not at all wish to go.’

Adeline didn’t
want him to go either but wasn’t quite up to saying so. Instead,
she kept her gaze resolutely fixed on his buttons and said
casually, ‘Will you be gone long?’

‘Not long.
Three days, perhaps. Dare I hope that you’ll miss me just a
little?’

His tone was
light but his eyes, had she looked, told a different story. She
said, ‘But of course. Who will help me choose my jewels?’

‘I’m sure there
will be no shortage of volunteers … though I’m rather hoping you’ll
decline them.’ ‘
Particularly
,’ he thought, ‘
in the case
of my lord March, who is already more than
half in love with
you - which means that if you don’t discourage him soon, I’ll have
to do
it.’
He took possession of her hands and said,
‘Why won’t you look at me?’

Her breath
snared and the aquamarine eyes flew to meet his.

‘Ah … that’s
better.’ He smiled at her. ‘At least I shall have a charming
picture to carry with me.’

She said,
‘You’re … you are particularly gallant this morning.’

‘Yes. I’m glad
you noticed that. It’s because, you see, I was rather hoping that
you might give me something.’

‘Oh? What?’

‘This.’ And,
entirely without haste, so that she could read his intention and
thwart it if she wished, he gathered her into his arms.

The warmth of
his hands seared her through the flimsy stuff of her night-gown and
her head fell back, exposing the long, creamy column of her throat.
He folded her close against him, sliding his fingers slowly into
the mass of unbound hair to cradle her skull and letting his eyes
caress her face. Their expression set Adeline’s nerves alight and,
as the moment stretched out on an invisible thread, she thought
hazily, ‘
If he doesn’t kiss me now, I’ll
drown
.’ Then
he did kiss her … and she drowned anyway.

This time there
were no interruptions and he was in no hurry. His mouth teased and
tempted, soliciting a response that sent a tremor thought the
pliant body in his arms and causing him to gradually deepen the
kiss until she made a tiny, helpless sound and her arms slid round
his neck, holding him even closer. Releasing her mouth and letting
one hand glide unhurriedly down her back to discover the curve of
her waist, he trailed his tongue lightly down her throat to kiss
the place where a pulse was erratically beating … and felt her
hands tangle in his hair. Very briefly, he lifted his head to look
at her and then, satisfied, captured her mouth again.

Long moments
later, he drew back a little and, still holding her, absorbed the
dilated blue-green eyes and the fact that her breathing was
hopelessly disrupted. Controlling his own voice with an effort, he
murmured, ‘Well … that was undoubtedly worth waiting for.’

Her whole body
flooded with sensations she was now able to recognise for what they
were, Adeline said huskily, ‘Tracy … ?’

‘Yes,
darling?’

Her heart was
screaming, ‘
I love you, I love you, I love you. Don’t go
.’
Her head, ingrained with caution, made her reduce it to, ‘Must you
really go?’

Even this was
more than he had dared hope for; and it was intensified by the fact
that she was still toying with his hair – from which the riband
seemed to have vanished - in a way he found curiously erotic.
Summoning all his control, he reminded himself that it was broad
daylight and her maid was in the next room. Moreover, the sooner
his errand was completed, the better it would be for both of them.
So with enormous reluctance, he said, ‘I’m sorry … but, yes. I
really must. However, when I come back, do you think we might
regard this as a beginning?’

Adeline drew a
long breath. ‘Yes,’ she said. And managed not to add the word,
‘
Please
.’ Instead, letting her hands slide away from him,
she added, ‘I have disordered your hair.’

‘So you have –
and may do so again any time you wish.’ He kissed her hands and
rose from her side. ‘And now I’d better go – or it is quite likely,
with you looking so inviting, that I’ll forget it’s a matter of
some importance. If you need money, see Matthew. Problems of any
other kind, should there be any, you may safely take to Jack. He
knows I have to go away. And if Nell is difficult, tell her there
will be dire retribution.’ He smiled at her. ‘I promise I won’t
linger. Will you be all right?’

‘Yes,’ said
Adeline mechanically. ‘Yes, of course.’

‘Good.’ He
allowed himself the indulgence of fleetingly touching her cheek.
‘
Au revoir
, my dear.’

Then he left
her for Oxfordshire … and the home of Sir Roland Franklin.

The decision to
go there was the right one. The timing of it was to prove
disastrous.

Sir Roland
accepted his arrival cautiously but without any undue surprise and
led him to the privacy of the book-room. Then, when wine had been
brought and the servant withdrew, he said simply, ‘Thought you
might come. Been half-expecting it.’

Banishing from
his mind all images of a certain momentous evening in June,
Rockliffe concentrated on the matter in hand.

‘Have you?
Why?’

Sir Rowland
regarded him owlishly.

‘It seemed to
me you’d start asking yourself questions. Bound to, really.
Adeline’s your wife – but you don’t know much about her.’

‘About Adeline,
I know everything I need to know,’ came the cool reply. ‘It is – as
I suspect you are well aware – her mother who interests me.’

‘Ah.’ Sir
Roland nodded several times, his face settling into lines of worry.
‘You want to know about Joanna.’

‘I do. The
question is … are you going to tell me?’

‘Depends.’

‘On what?’

‘On whether
you’ve already asked my wife. She doesn’t want you told, you see –
so it’s better if she knows nothing about it. Thing is,’ he said
earnestly, ‘Miriam can be a very difficult woman. Wouldn’t like her
to guess you’d found out from me.’

Rockliffe
repressed a temptation to tell the baronet it was clearly time he
got a grip on his own household and said, ‘There is no reason why
she should. I have not approached her and can safely promise not to
do so. Neither have I told anyone of my visit here today.’

‘Not even
Adeline?’

‘
Particularly
not Adeline. I need to learn everything I can
in order to protect her as best I may. Then, if necessary, I can
reveal those things she ought to know at a time when I judge her
best able to cope with them. I trust that makes the position
plain?’

‘Very,’ said
Sir Roland. ‘Agree with you. Always thought she should be told.
Said so often.’ He paused, thinking it over. Then, ‘Better start by
telling me what you know.’

Resting his
elbows on the arms of the chair, his Grace laid his finger-tips
lightly together and eyed the other man across them. At length, he
said, ‘I
know
nothing. What I have is a collection of
surmise and supposition which leads me to one conclusion and one
only. That Joanna Kendrick did not die twenty-four years ago and is
still, in fact, very much alive. Am I right?’

Roland drained
his glass.

‘Yes,’ he said
flatly. ‘More or less.’

‘Meaning?’

‘She was alive
six years ago.’ He opened the bureau and rummaged about till he
released the catch of a concealed drawer. Then, pulling out first a
slim packet of letters, he produced a small box. ‘Sent this for
Adeline’s eighteenth birthday. Trouble was, I couldn’t give it to
her.’

Rockliffe
accepted the box and opened it to reveal a gold locket engraved
with a tracery of flowers. Inside was a beautifully painted
miniature that could have been Adeline herself. For a moment he was
silent. Then, snapping the lid shut, he said, ‘Could you not have
lied a little more and called it a bequest?’

‘No,’ said
Roland. He turned the letters over in his hands and then added
baldly, ‘Joanna wrote to me from time to time and I sent her news
of Adeline. Miriam didn’t know.’

His Grace
expelled a long breath.

‘I see. When
did you last hear from her?’

‘Told you. Six
years ago. She was in Paris.’

‘
Lodging
with Charles’ inviting little widow
,’ thought the Duke. And
said, ‘I think it’s time you told me the whole story.’

‘Suppose I’d
better.’ Sir Roland fortified himself with another glass of canary.
‘The Hortons were a respectable enough family but they’d
connections with trade. Joanna and Miriam were supposed to mend
that by marrying well. Problem was that Joanna fell in love.
Younger son, no prospects and a Frenchie, to boot. Old man Horton
wouldn’t have it, of course. Gave the Frog his marching orders and
sent Joanna to his sister in Hexham.’

‘Where,’
suggested Rockliffe, ‘she met Tom Kendrick?’

‘Yes. Wouldn’t
have anything to do with him at first so they told her the French
fellow was married.’ Roland took a gulp of his wine. ‘Not true –
but she believed it and married Tom. He idolised her – even more so
after she had Adeline. Would have done anything for her. Shouldn’t
have taken her to London, though.’

‘Let me guess.’
The dark eyes were gently reflective. ‘She met her French lover
again?’

‘That’s it. Met
him and ran off with him straight away. Just vanished – and Adeline
less than three months old.’

‘Quite. So you
all joined ranks to bury the scandal by announcing that Joanna was
dead. Was that not rather drastic?’

‘Wasn’t my
idea,’ replied Sir Roland, a shade irritably. ‘Not my business,
either. Only recently married to Miriam at the time. Old man Horton
wanted it – Kendrick wanted it. I just did as I was told.’

‘I see.’ For a
long time, Rockliffe was silent. Then he said, ‘If Joanna is still
alive, I need to find her. And to that end, I’d like her last known
address in Paris.’

‘Take it,’ came
the prompt reply. ‘Take all the letters and the locket. Not my
responsibility any more, thank God.’

‘No,’ agreed
the Duke. He rose and pocketed the items he had been given. ‘You
have been most helpful. I’m grateful.’

‘Pleasure. Just
don’t involve me, that’s all.’

‘I won’t. There
is, however, just one other question I’d like to ask. Has it at any
time ever occurred to you that Adeline might not be Tom Kendrick’s
child?’

‘Yes,’ came the
blunt reply. ‘But it ain’t likely. Joanna wouldn’t have left her if
she’d been Michel’s.’

‘Michel?’
queried Rockliffe gently.

‘The Frenchie.
Michel du Plessis. It’s all in the letters. Rather you than me –
but I wish you luck all the same. Just hope Adeline don’t get hurt
by it. You looking after her?’

‘I am doing my
best.’ His Grace paused, an odd smile lurking in his eyes. ‘And
will continue to do so. Always.’

*

In London,
meanwhile, Adeline was living with a heady mixture of fear and
delight and trying hard not to let it show. The fear was in finally
accepting the fact that, against Tracy, she had no defences – the
delight, in the ravishing possibilities to which this might lead.
She didn’t know what he felt for her and, for the first time, it
occurred to her that perhaps
he
did not either. But that,
when suddenly put beside what she should have seen long ago, was
not so very important. He had made it plain from the first that he
wanted her but she had made him wait because she had been so afraid
of falling in love with him. And that, she now knew, had been
pointless – for she loved him anyway and had done for weeks, with
an intensity that was beyond anything she had ever imagined.

It was hard to
think when all the time a golden bubble of sweet anticipation was
steadily growing inside her. She went shopping with Nell and Cassie
and came home with a swansdown-trimmed negligée – the transparency
of which both excited and alarmed her and provoked the girls into a
variety of unseemly remarks. Then, without quite knowing how it
came about, she found herself accepting Isabel Vernon’s invitation
for Nell and herself to spend the following evening at
Ranelagh.