Mesalliance (41 page)

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Authors: Stella Riley

Tags: #romance, #london, #secrets, #scandal, #blackmail, #18th century

BOOK: Mesalliance
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Throughout the
journey her mind went round in circles, playing and re-playing the
whole nightmarish scene in Queensberry House … and always stopping
in the same place. The moment when Tracy, realising the full extent
of her deception, had looked at her with cold condemning eyes … and
she had known that there was nothing she could say now that would
undo the damage.

She arrived at
Wynstanton Priors an hour or so after dawn, directed the Vernon’s
coachman to the Rose in Sittingbourne and told him to lay whatever
expenses he incurred to his Grace of Rockliffe’s account. Then,
avoiding the house, she walked down into the deserted park.

When he came
she had been alone at the lakeside for an hour, gazing unseeingly
across its glassy surface. The air was still and laden with
bird-song and the early mist lay heavy on the water. Then the peace
was shattered by the sound of hoof-beats and the bird-song became a
flurry of beating wings as he rode into the clearing behind
her.

Very slowly,
Adeline turned to face him. For a moment, he sat motionless,
staring down at her from eyes which, though no longer inimical,
held a look that sent alarm feathering down her spine.

He watched her
clutch the thin evening cloak about her, saw that her hair was
falling down her back and the bottom of the peacock gown sodden
from contact with the wet grass. And then, with a courtesy they
both knew meant nothing, he said, ‘I hope I haven’t kept you
waiting?’

‘I – no.’ She
discovered that her mouth was tinder-dry and tried to moisten it.
‘How could you? I – I didn’t know you would come.’

He smiled then,
but not in any way she found either comforting or even
recognisable.

‘No?’

‘No.’ She said
it quickly and immediately knew it for a lie. Of course he would
come. Taken all in all, how could he not? She had known he would
come; what she had
not
known, and still did not, was
why.

‘You thought,
having gone home to find my wife missing, I might have simply
shrugged and sat down by the fire with a book and a night-cap?’ he
asked. ‘Really?’

She swallowed.
‘No.’

‘No.’ He
dismounted and, without bothering to tether his horse, closed the
space between them. The black brocade coat he had worn to the ball
was mantled with dust and the right sleeve seemed to be partially
adrift. The Garter had gone from his chest, as had the lace at his
wrists, while the buckled shoes had been replaced, somewhat
incongruously, by top-boots. And traces of last night’s powder
still clung to hair which appeared to have been at some stage
hurriedly brushed and re-tied but was now hopelessly windswept.

Adeline
absorbed these signs of swift and relentless pursuit with misgiving
but continued to avoid his gaze, preferring to watch his horse
canter away in the direction of the stables. Then her hand was
taken in a too-firm clasp and he started to lead her away from the
lake towards the house.

She said
abruptly, ‘I didn’t mean you to follow me. I didn’t think you’d
want to.’

Rockliffe did
not reply. The crippling weight of fear that had accompanied him
all the way from London, followed by the unimaginable relief of
finding her safe were transforming themselves, inevitably, into
over-whelming anger; and it was choking him.

Keeping pace
with him only through lack of choice, Adeline tried again.

‘I’m sorry. I
just c-couldn’t stay in London.’

‘So I
gathered.’ He stopped walking and swung her round to face him.
‘You’ll have to forgive the lack of subtlety – but it’s been a very
long night. I understood why you left Queensberry House – I was
even glad of it. I did, however, expect you find you at home.
Instead, I found no sign of you whatsoever and no one with any idea
where you were. So I went to Hanover Square where Rosalind took a
damned sight longer than necessary to admit that she didn’t know
where you’d gone but that Isabel Vernon might. Are you beginning to
get the general idea? Do you even care?’ His hands tightened on her
shoulders and he went on, his voice hard and rapid, ‘So; off to
Jermyn Street where I had to kick my heels for twenty minutes while
Isabel made herself presentable enough to come back downstairs …
and finally I learned that she’d lent you her carriage so that you
could come here. Alone, through the night – without a thought for
what you’d do if the coach lost a wheel or there were footpads on
the road. And you didn’t think I’d follow you?
Christ
!’

‘I’m sorry. I –
it didn’t occur to me that you’d be worried. I thought … I thought
you m-might be relieved.’

‘You didn’t
think full stop. If you had, we wouldn’t be having this
conversation at all – never mind having it in the bloody park.’ He
paused and drew a steadying breath. ‘So far, I’ve lost my temper,
my finesse and a particularly fine snuff-box. I’ve bruised my
knuckles, winded my favourite mare and missed my breakfast. But
what I have
not
done is to ride forty miles in a guise I can
only describe as lamentable, merely for the pleasure of your
conversation. Let’s go.’

She met his
eyes then and instantly regretted it as something in them made it
impossible to look away. Through the maelstrom of her nerves, she
summoned enough breath to say shakily, ‘We need to talk first.’

‘Why? So you
can give me more evasions and platitudes and excuses? So you can
find yet another way of saying no? I think not.’

Adeline
realised then that he was a hairsbreadth away from losing his
temper. She had seen him angry perhaps twice - and never for more
than a minute or two; and though she had perhaps guessed that,
beneath the suave exterior, lay something volcanic, she had never
seen him lose control of it even for an instant. She said, ‘I’m not
saying no. If you’ll -- ’

‘Well that will
make a change. Or perhaps you’re just not saying it yet.’

‘-- listen to
me for a minute -- ’

‘Adeline.’
There was a white shade around his mouth and he looked very tired.
‘I should perhaps explain that this isn’t a suggestion or even an
invitation – though I’m sure we’d both prefer it to retain the
appearance of one. This time – with or without your consent - I’m
going to do what I should have done months ago. And I think we both
know by now that – whatever you may
say
– consent isn’t
going to be a problem.’

Her heart
thudded against her ribs and her knees turned to jelly as he
started walking again.

‘I won’t say
no. I promise. But I need to tell you something before - ’ She
stopped, stumbling over her skirt as he towed her onwards. ‘Tracy –
please! Just wait a moment! Oh God – why are you
doing
this?’

‘Why?’ He
stopped so suddenly she nearly fell. ‘
Why
?’ he repeated
bitterly, his hands gripping her arms while his gaze scorched her
face. ‘Because, damn it, it’s the only thing I haven’t already
tried – and the only thing I have left.’

His hands fell
away from her and he stepped back … but not before Adeline saw and
finally recognised the look in his eyes. Not temper – or not
just
that – but sickening, soul-searing hurt; a hurt so deep
and, to her, so unexpected, that it sliced through her like a knife
and caused her to drop nervelessly to her knees on the wet
grass.

Through the raw
ache in her throat, she said, ‘Tracy – don’t. I’m so sorry.’

‘Am I supposed
to be grateful for that? Well, let’s think, shall we? I’ve done my
utmost to give you the security I thought you needed and I’ve
crucified myself being patient and not making demands of you. Oh –
I know I said I married you for your body but even on our
wedding-night I suspected that wasn’t all I wanted. I thought that,
if I could only wait, one day you might --’ He broke off as if to
steady himself, then went on. ‘That one day you might want me, too.
And you did, I think. Only by then, I’d committed the ultimate
folly. I fell in love with you. I didn’t say it, of course. Partly
because I’ve never said it to any woman before – but mostly because
I wanted some small sign that, when I did, you wouldn’t react as if
I’d merely offered you a second cup of coffee. But though I may not
have put it into words, I tried to show you in every way I could. I
loved you so much that that nothing else mattered. I’d have given
you whatever you wanted – done anything you asked of me. Only you
didn’t ask me, did you? You confided in anyone
but
me. First
Harry – which I could have forgiven; and then Jack – which I can’t.
As for allowing Horton to blackmail you rather than tell me the
truth – do you think I couldn’t or wouldn’t have dealt with him? I
don’t think I’m a fool but I’ll never understand why you found it
so impossible to trust me.’

The tears that
Adeline had refused to shed for herself came now in a steady,
silent stream. She said huskily, ‘I
didn’t
. It was never
that.’

He gave a
short, abrasive laugh.

‘That’s a lie.
If you’d trusted me, your hell-spawned cousin wouldn’t have been
able to stand in the middle Queensberry House telling – not just
me, but half of London – that you’d been paying Richard Horton not
to tell me you were illegitimate … and that, when it all got too
much for you, you took your troubles to Jack.’ He stared at her
over folded arms, breathing rather hard. ‘To that, of course, we
can add the not insignificant fact that, as soon as the whole sorry
tale came to light, you did your damnedest to put yourself out of
harm’s way. And that, my sweet disappointment, hurt more than all
the rest. But since you so obviously had expectations of me, it
seemed churlish not to fulfil them – and so here I am.’ Reaching
down, he pulled her to her feet and added, ‘Tears aren’t going to
solve anything … but something else might.’

Her last
thought as his head blotted out the light was that he did not
understand; and then his mouth came down on hers with a savagery
that scalded them both. For perhaps half a minute, all the hurtful
rejections and suppressed longings of the past months flooded
through Rockliffe in a conduit of untrammelled violence; and then
it was gone as he suddenly realised that she wasn’t even trying to
resist him. She was simply crying – so silently that the only
indication of it was the taste of salt on her mouth and in his.
Somewhere in a corner of his mind was the thought that this was the
first time he’d ever seen her shed a tear. Slowly, very slowly, he
raised his head to look at her and then, his hands dropping to his
sides, he said distantly, ‘My apologies. That was … unnecessary. Do
you think we might go back to the house? They should have lit some
fires by now and you’re cold.’

And that, after
everything that had gone before, completely over-set her. Without
stopping to think, she said baldly, ‘I love you.’

The shock of it
drove the blood from his skin. There was a pause while he fought
for control and then he said raggedly, ‘Congratulations. I really
didn’t see
that
one coming.’

She wasn’t
surprised that he didn’t believe her. She hadn’t, after all, made a
particularly convincing job of telling him. His response, however,
was alarming. She took a step towards him and opened her mouth to
speak, only to stop dead as he flung up his hand.

‘No. Don’t come
any nearer.’ His voice was clipped now and completely impervious
and his eyes resembled discs of obsidian. ‘Let us cling to the
charitable assumption that you made that perfectly witless remark
out of a desire to repair my shattered equilibrium. Very well. It
didn’t quite work but I thank you for the kind thought.’ He bowed
with exquisite grace. ‘I am going inside. You can join me or not –
as you wish.’

His careful
courtesy left her stricken and dumb so that she could do nothing
but watch as he walked away from her towards the house. Then,
finally, she realised that it was time to assert herself - that if
she didn’t do it now, there might never be another opportunity.
Gathering up her skirts in both hands, she ran after him and
grabbed his sleeve.

‘You can listen
to me here or in the house – I don’t care which – but you
are
going to listen!’

He shook off
her hand and continued walking. ‘In due course, perhaps. But not
now.’

‘Why not? I’ve
listened to you … and I’ll go on listening for as long as you’ve
anything left to say to me. Don’t I get a turn? I said I love you –
and I do. That’s not so terrible, is it?’

‘Leave it,
Adeline. The veneer is somewhat fragile and may crack at any
moment. If you are wise, you’ll stop this while you still can.’

‘But I don’t
want to stop it. I want you to let me explain. Is that so
unreasonable?’

They had
reached the house. Rockliffe laid his hand on the door-latch and
then, closing his eyes for a moment, drew a long bracing breath.
Finally he said, ‘Very well. But first I intend to wash and change
– and, since that gown is soaked, I suggest you do the same. I also
require coffee. Then, if I must, I’ll listen.’

*

Inside the
house, he ascertained that fires had been lit upstairs, requested
hot water for washing and asked for coffee to be brought up to her
Grace’s sitting-room. Then, as he and Adeline climbed the stairs,
he said, ‘If you want to talk in private – and I presume you do –
your boudoir is the best place. So don’t read too much into it.’
And he vanished into his room.

Adeline’s
fingers having inexplicably become thumbs, she had to wait for the
girl with the hot water before she could get out of the ruined
peacock gown. Then, telling the maid to find her something -
anything - clean to wear, she washed her face and hands and tried
to get a brush through her hair. It was only then that she saw the
gown that the maid had laid out for her; the same pale blue dimity
she’d worn on their first morning here in the summer … the day
she’d gone downstairs to find Tracy with his hair unpowdered and
he’d swept her outside to see The Trojan. The day she’d first
realised that she loved him. For a moment, Adeline stood quite
still, forcing back a wave of misery and telling herself that it
was only a dress. Then, unwilling to waste any more time, she put
it on and, fastening her hair loosely back in a ribbon, returned to
the sitting-room. It was empty. She sat down by the coffee-pot,
wishing that her hands would stop shaking and that she knew what
she was going to say.

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