The Disappearing Duchess (17 page)

‘Now, tell me, what would you like to do today? We could go visiting, if you wish? Your friends would learn that you were here and come to visit you.’

‘Oh, I called on Lord Lanchester on my way here,’ Mariah said with an oddly self-conscious look. ‘I dare say he and Jane will spread the word and we shall have callers before you know it.’

‘I have had two at-home mornings, but now you are here there will always be someone to receive them so we shall have open house.’

‘Are you always as sweet and understanding?’

Lucinda laughed. ‘I have not yet made many real friends here, Mariah—though I go visiting once or twice a week and receive people here. Jane and Andrew Lanchester are good friends, but now that you are here I hope we shall be friends.’

‘Oh, yes, of course.’ Mariah gave her a questing smile. ‘I thought you might resent me. I ought to have asked if I might visit rather than just descending on you.’

‘Not at all. You must continue to think of this as your home, Mariah—and if there is anything I can do to make things better for you, you have only to ask.’

Mariah toyed with the silken bedcover. ‘Andrew said you were lovely and you are. If you become too tired of me you must tell me, Lucinda.’

‘I do not imagine that will happen. I think you had a reason for coming here, Mariah. You will stay while you need to—now, are we to go visiting?’

‘I should like to walk in the park or ride about the estate—with you, unless you are in a certain condition?’

‘I am not carrying my husband’s child at the moment. I see no reason why we should not ride or walk, whichever suits you.’

‘Then we shall ride before breakfast. I shall get up
and dress at once and meet you down in the hall in half an hour.’

‘Very well, I shall change my gown and join you.’

Lucinda left the room and went back to her own, changing into a velvet habit. However, when she went down to the hall she was told that Lady Fanshawe had sent her apologies and gone out with the duke.

Lucinda bit her lip. Had Mariah deliberately tried to make a fool of her or had she been tempted and acted on impulse?

Deciding that she would ride anyway, Lucinda walked down to the stables, ordered her mare saddled and rode out alone. She had not been to the village in weeks and decided that she would go there now. It was a pleasant morning and her mare was fresh, pulling at the reins until Lucinda gave her her head. It was as she was approaching the church, which stood at the outskirts of the village, that a shot was fired quite close to her, causing the mare to rear up. She hung on desperately, but the spirited animal had been badly frightened and Lucinda was thrown, striking her head against the trunk of a tree as she fell.

* * *

‘Lucinda, Lucinda darling, please wake up and talk to me.’

Lucinda moaned and opened her eyes. She looked up and saw that Mariah was bending over her, patting her face with a kerchief that smelled strongly of lavender, and Justin was just behind her, frowning.

‘Oh, thank goodness,’ Mariah exclaimed as she sat
up. ‘It was lucky we came this way. Justin heard the shot and thought it odd. He insisted on investigating and thank goodness he did. My poor darling. Are you hurt badly?’

‘My head is sore where I knocked it,’ Lucinda said as Justin came to offer his hand and help her to stand. She swayed for a moment, but he held her close and his scent was familiar and comforting. She knew a moment of longing, wishing that he would kiss her and tell her she was his love. Of course, he would not. She could not expect it. Tears sprang to her eyes, but she blinked them away. He did not love her; he was simply being kind. ‘My horse was terrified by the shot. Did you see who fired it?’

‘No, we were too late,’ Justin said. He looked white and his mouth was drawn into a thin line. ‘This is still my land and if it was a poacher I shall want to know where my keepers were. I shall not stand for this kind of thing. You might have been killed, Lucinda. Are you certain you’re not hurt? We should send for the doctor at once.’

For a moment as he looked at her she saw concern in his eyes and was comforted. ‘It was just a little tumble, Justin. Please do not trouble the physician. I do not think the shot was fired at me. It must have been a poacher—or one of your keepers shooting game for the table.’

‘My keepers would not be foolish enough to scare your horse,’ he said and looked grim. ‘I shall have this
investigated, Lucinda. I can only apologise for what happened and beg you to forgive me.’

‘It was not your fault,’ Lucinda replied. ‘I should have asked one of the grooms to accompany me, but thought it would be safe to ride alone here.’

‘And so it should be. I give you my word this will not happen again.’ He looked stunned, as if the realisation of what might have happened had shocked him to the core. Lucinda smiled at him shyly, warmth spreading through her as she realised that he was truly concerned for her.

‘Do not worry, Justin. I am only a little bruised.’

‘You are still trembling. I must get you home.’ He touched her cheek with his fingers.

‘It was merely an accident,’ Mariah said. ‘You make too much fuss, Justin. Should we all ride on together now—unless you would rather Justin returned and fetched the governess’s cart for you, Lucinda?’

‘Of course, I shall do so,’ he said. ‘Lucinda should not attempt to ride after a fall like that—and I shall send for the doctor.’

‘Please do not make a fuss,’ Lucinda said. ‘I am perfectly capable of riding back to the house, if you will help me mount?’

‘If you are sure, you can ride with me,’ Justin said. ‘Mariah can lead your horse. I fear you might turn dizzy and fall, Lucinda.’

‘So much fuss,’ Mariah said and pouted. ‘I do not recall you insisting on taking me up before you when I fell, Justin. You told me to get back on at once.’

‘You did not bang your head. It was only your pride that was hurt,’ he said and offered his hand to Lucinda. ‘Please do as I ask.’

Lucinda gave him her hand. She did not want another cause for dissent between them. His hands were strong as he put her up on his horse, then, as he mounted behind her, his arms came round her and held her close to his chest. The warmth of his body and the comfort of being held moved her and she had to blink hard to hold the tears at bay. A fierce longing swept through her and she knew how much she was missing by their estrangement. She wanted Justin to carry her up to her room and lie beside her in her bed, to hold her and touch her and kiss her. She loved him so much and it hurt to know that he was merely being kind, behaving as a gentleman ought. The smell of horses and musk and his own scent mingled in a heady mix and made her heart race as she leaned back against him, relaxing as she had not in days.

She could have ridden forever with his arms about her. It seemed but moments before they reached the house and Justin was dismounting, letting her slide down into his arms. He held her for a moment or two longer than was strictly necessary, gazing down at her. She thought he would kiss her or say something—perhaps tell her he loved her and had forgiven her—but Mariah’s voice broke the spell.

‘I am hungry. Riding always gives me an appetite. Shall you join me in the parlour, Justin?’

‘Perhaps, after I have seen Lucinda to her room.’

‘No, I am perfectly able to walk upstairs. I shall lie
down for a little while, Justin—but I do not need the doctor, just a tisane from Mrs Mann.’

He stared at her for a moment as if he would protest, then inclined his head. ‘Just as you wish, my love. I shall come up a little later and see how you are.’

Lucinda thanked him, turned away and walked up the stairs. Her eyes filled with tears. If only he meant it when he called her his love! She blocked out the pain; she could not face her unhappiness now, wanting only a warm soothing drink to ease the pain at the back of her head. She took off her habit and sent Alice to fetch her a drink, then slid under a light cover. When her maid brought the tisane she drank it and was soon asleep.

Lucinda did not know that Justin kept his word to look in on her an hour later, because she was sleeping.

* * *

Justin finished giving his keepers their instructions and walked back to the house. He was still reeling from the shock it had given him to see his wife lying so still on the ground. She’d been unconscious for a few moments and he’d feared she was dead. In those first terrible seconds Justin had understood what he might have lost. The realisation that he loved Lucinda was a blinding revelation that left him unable to do more than stand and stare while Mariah patted her cheek and begged her to open her eyes.

His relief once he’d known she was alive had been overwhelming. Yet still he’d stood there like a statue until Lucinda moved; then, he’d given her his hand, drawing her to her feet and holding her close. He’d
accused her of trembling, but in truth he thought it was he who had been close to collapsing. Justin was too shocked by the depth of feeling her accident had roused that he did not know how to express it. So this was love—an emotion he had never experienced, a pain that encircled his heart and made him want to die. For had she died, how could he have lived?

Was he mad? How long had this feeling been there? Had he loved her from the beginning and not known it? Was that why he had felt such anger when she deceived him? He’d hidden behind his pride of family, but in truth he’d been hurt by her deceit, feeling that she could not care for him. Suddenly, the matter of the child seemed so much less important. He was unsure how to protect his wife from scandal and yet to banish her child seemed unnecessarily cruel. Justin realised that he must give the matter more thought.

Looking in on her she slept, Justin felt his throat close with emotion. He would ask the doctor to call in the morning, though he believed she had been lucky.

He had been lucky. She was still alive. He had a chance to make amends. Somehow he must heal the breach between them because he could not bear his life if she did not smile at him.

* * *

It was nearly time for tea when Lucinda entered the drawing room. She discovered that Jane and Andrew Lanchester were already there together with Justin, Mariah and another gentleman she did not immediately recall having met before. He was about the same age as
Justin, handsome in a girlish way with dark brows and light hair, his mouth redder than normal for a gentleman. His eyes rested on her as she entered for a moment, then flicked away almost guiltily. It was only after a moment’s reflection that she remembered he was Lady Morgan’s nephew. She had hardly spoken to him at the ball, but he’d stared at her most oddly.

‘Lucinda, Duchess,’ Andrew said and rose with alacrity, coming to take her hands and lead her to a chair next to the fireplace. It was such a warm day that no fire had been lit, but the chair was comfortable and warm because he had been using it. ‘I was most distressed to learn that you took a tumble this morning.’

‘Oh, it was nothing very much, but Justin thought I should rest,’ Lucinda said with a smile. ‘I am glad to see you here and Jane, too—I am not much acquainted with your friend, though I believe we met once.’

‘Oh, Royston,’ Andrew said in a dismissive tone. ‘No, you would not have seen him about because he has just returned from his most recent trip to Devon.’

‘My uncle has been ill,’ the young man said, coming forwards to bow over her hand. ‘He asked me to attend him and so I did. I believe he may have been a friend of your father, Duchess—Sir John Marston.’ The look in his eyes sent a chill down her spine; it was so knowing, almost mocking.

‘Yes…’ Lucinda felt her throat close as she looked at him. It had not occurred to her at the dance, but now she could see the likeness between the uncle and nephew
and it made her feel as if she were suffocating. That was why he’d stared at her so strangely. He knew! He knew her secret. ‘I—he may have known my father.’

‘And you. He spoke well of you, Duchess. He was most interested to hear of your marriage.’

His words held a veiled threat. Lucinda stared straight through him. ‘Thank you, Mr Royston. I—I trust your uncle is well?’

The words were a civil lie. She wished his uncle anything but well. She could scarcely contain her anger and her distress.

‘He died last week. I inherited his estate—such as it was—and all his papers.’

Lucinda could not look at him. Did he know that his uncle had raped her? Did he know that she had born an illegitimate child and that the child was staying here in this house? She was certain that he did—the knowledge was in his manner, in his eyes and the faintly insolent tone of his voice.

‘I am sorry for your loss, sir.’

‘I came to tell Mrs Mann,’ he replied. ‘Her cousin worked for my uncle for many years. I believe there was some concern that she might need to find other employment. However, I have reassured her that she is welcome to remain where she is. I may not visit the estate often, but for the moment I have no intention of parting with it.’

Why was he telling her all this? Lucinda could not
but feel that he was conveying some secret message—that his polite conversation held a threat.

Tea was brought in at that moment. Mariah offered her services, but Lucinda declined, saying that she was quite well enough to resume her duties. She poured tea for her friends and passed their cups to the maid who waited on hand to assist her, feeling proud that her hand did not shake.

Could it possibly have been Sir John Marston who had sent the blackmail letters himself? The thought made her cold inside—would it cease now that he had died? Or was the blackmailer in this room?

She was conscious that Mr Royston was watching her, his gaze narrowed and calculating. Had he discovered her secret through his uncle—had he then taken it upon himself to blackmail her? How could he have known that her child was in the house? Of course, Mrs Mann might have mentioned it to her cousin in idle gossip. How right Justin was to fear careless talk. Mrs Mann had meant her no harm, but an innocent line in a letter had given this man all he needed to continue his blackmail. It was clear to her then that her husband’s plan for her child was the best solution, even though it would cause her grief.