ANNE ASHLEY – His Makeshift Wife (страница 9)
The contemptuous curl that instantly appeared at one side of a very shapely feminine mouth revealed clearly enough that snippets of gossip appearing in newspapers had most assuredly been perused under the Manor’s roof in recent months.
He gazed resolutely down into his glass again, doing his utmost to suppress a twitching smile. ‘As I had no desire to be called to account by the understandably aggrieved spouse, thereby causing a major scandal, I decided it might be wise to abandon the metropolis before I was summoned to pistols at dawn, so to speak.’
‘Such an edifying tale!’ she muttered, quite unequal to keeping the derision oozing from each word. She hurriedly got to her feet, deciding it might be wise to leave before she allowed the contempt she felt induce her to say more than was wise.
He made no attempt to stop her this time, and succeeded in bidding her a pleasant goodnight before she had whisked herself quite speedily from the room. The instant the door had been closed quietly behind her, the faintly inane look he had adopted during the past few minutes vanished completely, and the earnest expression of a gentleman contemplating some ticklish problems took possession of his features.
After arriving at the bedchamber that had been her private retreat for so many very contented years, Briony discovered not the young maid Alice awaiting her, as expected, and didn’t attempt to hide her surprise at finding Janet tidying away some freshly laundered garments.
‘What on earth are you doing here? I imagined you would have been putting your feet up, after taking all the trouble to prepare that delicious dinner this evening. No doubt you’ll be pleased to hear your new lord and master thought the meal couldn’t have been bettered,’ she added, seating herself before her dressing-table mirror in order to begin removing the pins from her hair.
‘That was very good of Master Luke to say so,’ Janet responded, appearing well pleased with the compliment on her culinary skills, ‘although no more than I would have expected from such a thoughtful gentleman. But even so …’ She shot a considering look at her young mistress through the mirror, as she lent a helping hand to take down the long chestnut tresses. ‘I—I thought you’d mayhap be grateful for a word or two of comfort from an older woman … this being your wedding night and all, and you not having had a mother to guide you, so to speak.’
It took Briony a moment only to appreciate to what her dear Janet was alluding. It was perfectly true that she had no very real idea of what took place in the marriage bed, her godmother having only ever touched briefly on the subject by divulging that young brides had nothing whatsoever to fear, providing they had married considerate gentlemen.
She wasn’t so naïve as to suppose all females found the married state entirely to their liking. There were several young matrons in the locale, and not all appeared well pleased with their lot. But what did that matter to her? Her union was one of convenience only, therefore she had nothing to be concerned about.
‘Don’t trouble yourself on my account, Janet. I assure you I’m not in the least uneasy.’
‘Well, of course you’re not!’ Janet agreed, smiling reassuringly. ‘As I’ve mentioned before, Master Luke’s such a kind, considerate soul, one of life’s real gentlemen.’
‘And the way he looked at you in church!’ Janet continued, oblivious to her young mistress’s highly contrasting thoughts. ‘Fair touched my heart to see how much he cares for you!’
Briony scarcely knew what to say to this. She could hardly dismiss it as arrant nonsense, thereby arousing the housekeeper’s suspicions. Furthermore, Janet wasn’t fanciful as a rule. Evidently she’d seen something to make her suppose that Luke cared for his new bride. Clearly he was doing his utmost to appear the doting spouse. And she must at least attempt to do likewise!
‘I must own to having come to a—er—better understanding with Mr Kingsley soon after his arrival in Dorset.’
‘That goes without saying, mistress, otherwise you wouldn’t have wedded. And I’m so pleased you didn’t allow your head to rule your heart for very long. It’s plain to see you and Master Luke are made for each other.’
Striving not to dwell on the ticklish problem, she occupied herself with getting ready for bed. Not attempting to make conversation, and her rather business-like approach to changing into a freshly laundered nightgown didn’t appear to arouse the least suspicion in the housekeeper’s breast. It was only when Briony collected the book she had begun to read a day or so earlier, before settling herself in the bed, that the housekeeper’s greying brows shot up in surprise.
‘Why, Miss Briony!’ Dismay had clearly caused Janet momentarily to forget her young mistress’s new status. ‘You’re never thinking of reading … not on your wedding night?’
Briony was nonplussed for a moment. ‘Why ever shouldn’t I?’
Janet spread her arms in a helpless gesture. ‘Well … because I swear I heard the master’s footsteps along the passageway a few minutes ago.’
‘In that case you’d best not tarry,’ Briony advised.
Which had clearly been the right thing to say, for an expression of approval replaced the look of bewilderment on the housekeeper’s face, a moment before she whisked herself out of the room.
Briony released her breath in a long sigh of relief, as she made herself comfortable against the mound of lacy pillows. At last she could relax with her book and forget about all the subterfuge, at least until morning.
No sooner had the comforting thought filtered through her mind than she detected the click of the door leading to the master bedroom and discovered none other than the tall figure of her husband filling the aperture.
More intrigued than unnerved, she found herself studying his attire, or lack of it, for beneath the crimson-brocade dressing gown she strongly suspected he was wearing absolutely nothing at all. Dark curling hairs clearly showed between ornately embroidered lapels, and there was a suspicion of the same dark covering caressing the ankles of unshod feet.
‘Is there something amiss? I was informed all your belongings had been placed in your room,’ she remarked as he slowly approached the bed, all at once seeming far taller and broader in his casual attire. His face seemed different, too—younger somehow, with several locks of waving brown hair tumbling over his forehead—and there was a definite intense, almost hungry look in those grey eyes that never for a second wavered from her direction.
‘Have you misplaced something, perhaps?’ she added, all at once feeling decidedly ill at ease when he seated himself, uninvited, on the edge of the bed and placed one bronzed hand so close to her that his thumb rested against her thigh.
‘Only my bride,’ he returned silkily, sending her unease soaring in an instant.
Her response was to draw up her knees and tug the bedcovers up to her chin, clutching them frantically. ‘You—you f-forget yourself, sir!’ Even to her own ears her voice sounded little more than a choked whisper. ‘Or have you forgotten the bargain you made?’
‘I forget nothing. But for appearances’ sake I felt I must at least—er—pay you a visit,’ he responded, his voice growing increasingly guttural. ‘So whilst I’m here I might as well avail myself of the opportunity to discover if, perchance, you’ve changed your mind and natural maidenly modesty forbids you to reveal that you desire to become a wife in … every sense?’
The response to this was a violent shake of the head, which sent silky chestnut tresses whipping across wide, frightened eyes, and induced slender tapering fingers to clutch more frantically at white linen, as though her very life depended upon it.
Luke wrested the bed sheet from her grasp as easily as if he were depriving a child of its toy and smiled softly. ‘There’s no need to look so terrified, Briony,’ he assured her, reaching out to trace the soft line of her jaw with surprisingly gentle fingers. ‘I’ve never yet forced myself on an unwilling female and I have no intention of doing so now. The marriage will be as you wish … mere pretence.’
Letting his hand fall, Luke rose from the bed. ‘I shall never again enter this room unless bidden to do so. You have my word on that. Goodnight, my dear.’
Briony couldn’t have responded even had she wished to do so. A painful obstruction had unexpectedly lodged itself in her throat, making speech impossible, and her pulse was racing, though no longer through fear. That portion of her face that had been touched by, oh, so gentle fingers continued to tingle strangely, and the unerring feeling that she had just rejected something very precious entered her mind and remained there to torment her long after she had watched the light disappear from beneath the communicating door.