‘But being married to Lord Ashwick would not in any way be like being married to John Wycherley!’ Sibella finished triumphantly. ‘Indeed, Annis…’ her smile became dreamy ‘…I think that it might be positively exciting!’
Annis looked alarmed. ‘You mean, in a physical sense? I think that you might be correct, but—’
‘There is no need to be alarmed.’ Sibella’s smile vanished. ‘If you explain to him about John—’
‘I cannot explain anything so intimate! I do not know him well enough for that.’ Annis’s desperate gaze sought her cousin’s. ‘It will be difficult enough to explain why I was so unhappy and why I cling to my liberty. How can I possibly broach the topic of my first marriage being unconsummated?’
Sibella sighed. ‘I understand your feelings, Annis, but maybe you will find that when you know Lord Ashwick a little better you will have no difficulty in discussing the matter. On the other hand…’ she smiled slightly ‘…perhaps it would be better not to tell him. By the time he finds out he will not be in any position to stop and question you, believe me!’
Annis stared at her for a moment, then turned her face away. ‘Sib, I am afraid.’
Sibella crossed over to her and sat down. She put her hand over Annis’s cold one.
‘Trust him,’ she urged. ‘You already find Lord Ashwick very attractive, Annis, and that is a good start. You already like him, and that is even better.’
Annis looked unhappy. ‘I suppose so. I do not wish to be married to him, though, particularly not like this. I…am not ready for it.’
Sibella patted her hand. ‘Think about it. Give him a little time.’
‘There is no time. In matters such as this I believe it is the convention to be married at once.’
‘Then do not worry. I cannot believe that Lord Ashwick would behave as a callow boy and force himself on you. Besides, he has been married before.’
Annis shuddered. ‘Yes, and that is another thing! He told me quite openly that he had been in love with his wife.’
‘That was a long time ago. Besides, it is a good thing, for it shows he is not a man who takes marriage lightly.’
‘He may want children.’
‘He may indeed. You will have to speak to him about it.’ Sibella stretched a hand out to the bell. ‘More tea, cousin? You seem in need of it.’
Annis nodded, frowning. ‘Thank you. Charles will not like it, you know, Sib.’
Sibella frowned too. ‘Because Lord Ashwick is at odds with Mr Ingram?’
‘Yes. They are very cool to one another. Oh, dear, this is so very difficult!’
Sibella came across to give her a hug. ‘I am persuaded that Charles’s first concern will be for you, Annis,’ she said loyally. ‘Pray do not worry about it any more.’
‘I feel so strange.’
‘Because you are always the chaperon and never the bride.’ Sibella laughed. ‘You are accustomed to having the order of things and arranging your own life, and to find yourself in a reversal of that situation is bound to be odd.’
Annis jumped up. ‘I need to go for a walk to clear my head. The fresh air might help me.’ She gave her cousin a spontaneous kiss. ‘I will not take that tea after all, Sibella, but I will see you again soon. Thank you for listening to me.’
‘You will tell me what you decide?’ Sibella said anxiously. ‘May I call tomorrow?’
‘Of course.’ Annis smiled. ‘And if I am to be the next Lady Ashwick you will be the first to know.’
Annis walked until her feet ached, but although the exercise did a great deal to tire her physically it did little to settle her mental state. She could forgive herself for the mistake of walking into Adam’s dressing room at the hotel, for that had in fact been Mr Thackwray’s fault and was easily done. It might have helped had she not stood gaping at Adam like a green girl until the maid came in, but it was too late to regret that. Annis winced as she thought of the salacious story that was no doubt already going the rounds of the Harrogate matrons. The scandal had all the elements of a perfect piece of gossip—the spa bath, the scantily clad chaperon, the naked lord, and the audience of outraged guests…Annis sighed. She had spent the past three years chaperoning young ladies and keeping them out of scrapes, only to tumble into far worse disgrace herself.
It was late when she returned to the house in Church Row and Mrs Hardcastle was fussing.
‘There you are, pet! I was growing quite worried. I sent to Mrs Granger’s to see if you had decided to stay for dinner, but they said that you had left hours ago.’
‘I am sorry, Hardy,’ Annis said wearily. She was conscious that she looked hot and dusty and wanted no more than to take a bath. ‘I think that I shall take a tray in my room, if I may, and I am not at home to visitors.’
‘Mr Lafoy called already,’ Mrs Hardcastle said significantly. ‘He seemed quite put out to find you from home and said that he would call again later.’
‘Well, I won’t see him,’ Annis said. She knew she sounded fretful, which was unusual for her, but the thought of receiving a lecture from Charles was too much to bear.
She slept badly and the following morning went into High Harrogate, setting off before the streets became busy. It was another hot morning with a high blue sky and normally this would have lifted Annis’s spirits, but not today. She made a few purchases in the shops, went to take a glass of water at the sulphur well and walked briskly on The Stray, and when she returned home her thoughts were still as confused as they had been when she went out.
Mrs Hardcastle was hovering when she reached home, her face working like milk coming up to the boil.
‘That Lady Copthorne!’ she burst out, when Annis politely enquired about the reason for her agitation. ‘She was here earlier, Miss Annis, asking to see you. When I told her you were out she said to tell you that she no longer wished to engage your services to chaperon her Eustacia to London in the autumn.’ Mrs Hardcastle’s magnificent bosom swelled indignantly. ‘Said that you were scandalous and too unsuitable to care for her ewe lamb lest you lead her into trouble! Well!’
‘Oh, dear,’ Annis said faintly. She sat down abruptly on the chair in the hall. ‘I thought something like this might happen.’
‘I gave her the right about and no mistake,’ Mrs Hardcastle said, with satisfaction. ‘Told her you were worth a hundred of her and that Miss Eustacia was fit for Bedlam and would run off with a groom before she was nineteen.’
‘Lady Copthorne certainly will not be changing her mind and re-engaging me, then,’ Annis said, trying to see the humorous side.
‘Ho! I should hope not!’
As Annis toiled up the stairs she reflected that it was only what she had expected. Harrogate was a small community and, like many other small towns, it loved scandal. She had provided the gossip and now her character was in shreds. No doubt Samuel Ingram had assiduously fanned the flames.
It left her with the difficulty of what to do in the future, however. If she did not accept Adam Ashwick’s proposal, the chance to re-establish herself as a chaperon looked slim indeed. Similarly she would be given short shrift if she offered herself as a governess or schoolteacher and at present she could not think of an alternative. In a thoroughly bad mood she shrugged off her outdoor clothing and tried unsuccessfully to dismiss her worries at the same time.
The house was very quiet that evening. Annis had been intending to join Sibella and David for dinner, but had cried off at the last moment, pleading a headache. A part of her wished to see Adam and resolve the situation and a part of her shrank from it. He had not called on her and Annis understood that he was keeping his word and giving her plenty of time to come to a decision. She respected him for it, but it made it no easier to decide what to do. Whenever she thought of marriage she felt the panic rise up in her, as though the waters were closing over her head and she could not breathe. Under the circumstances it seemed foolish to condemn them both to so unhappy a match, but Annis was increasingly aware that her alternativ
es were limited. In fact, at the moment she had no idea of a practical alternative.
She gave the servants the evening off and sat down to a cold collation alone in the dining room. Mrs Hardcastle had put it together before going off to the threepenny seats in the theatre gallery. It was her first opportunity to see Miss Mardyn dance and she had been very excited.
Annis felt tired and gloomy and for once sitting reading alone did not seem an attractive option. Instead, she soon found herself dozing in front of the drawing-room fire. When she awoke the candles had burned down and she felt a little cold and stiff. Her book had slid off her lap and was lying on the floor. And from upstairs came the unmistakable creak of a floorboard.
At first Annis thought that Mrs Hardcastle or one of the other servants must have returned home early, but then she realised that they would have come to greet her had they done so. She waited. There was another stealthy creak. This was definitely not the mice.
Annis picked up the poker in one hand and a candlestick in the other. She crept up the stairs. The bedrooms of Miss Fanny and Miss Lucy Crossley were in darkness now, the doors closed. At the end of the corridor, next to Miss Lucy’s bedroom, was the study. Annis had not used it, for she had had no time whilst the girls had been with her. Now she saw that the door was ajar and a faint light flickered beyond. There was the rustle of papers.
Annis pushed the door open and advanced, wondering at the last moment if it was not the most foolish thing she could have done. But it was too late. The figure by the desk was straightening up and turning towards her. His expression was rueful and resigned.
‘I fear you have caught me red-handed, Lady Wycherley,’ Adam Ashwick said.
Annis put her candlestick down on the table. Anger and disappointment were warring for mastery within her. She had been so close, she thought bitterly; so very close to trusting him completely. And now she saw what a fool she had been.
‘I am not surprised to see you here, Lord Ashwick,’ she said coldly. ‘I suppose you are following Mr Woodhouse’s advice and spying on my cousin? How did you get in, by the way?’
‘Over the roof and down the ivy. It is not to be recommended.’ Adam had the grace to look a little shamefaced.
‘I shall not be trying it.’ Annis gestured to the door. ‘You may leave at once if you wish, without me calling the Watch. You may also leave behind anything that you have found.’
‘I have found nothing.’ Adam straightened up.
‘I could have told you as much. There is nothing to interest you in the desk, Lord Ashwick. It is only a list of my engagements these six weeks past and I could have furnished you with them if you had only asked.’
Adam smiled at her. ‘Thank you. As you guessed, it was your cousin, Mr Lafoy, whose movements interested me—’
‘I am aware,’ Annis snapped. ‘It does not take a genius to work out what you are doing here, Lord Ashwick. Have you had time to search the attics? That is usually where people hide things. Or is this your first port of call?’
‘I was intending to search the attic next.’ Adam came forward. ‘I am sorry, Annis. I did not intend to startle you.’
‘You did not startle me,’ Annis said cuttingly, ‘only disappointed me, my lord. I had thought that you would at least have been honest with me. Skulking around here when my back is turned—’
‘I had heard that you were from home. My informant told me that you were dining with the Grangers tonight.’
‘Careless intelligence work, Lord Ashwick. I was invited but I did not attend. I would not expect you to make mistakes.’
‘I appear to have done so this time,’ Adam said, a little grimly. ‘I would have told you, Annis, but I had so little time—’
‘Excuses, my lord.’ Annis felt the angry tears prickle her eyes. ‘When we spoke at the inn, you promised to consult me before you took any action against Charles. But you did not trust me, did you? First you make me a proposal of marriage and then you demonstrate that you do not trust me one whit! I need not look very far for the reason to refuse you.’
She saw Adam flinch. ‘Annis,’ he said, ‘I appreciate that you are angry with me, but may we please go downstairs to discuss this and would you please put that poker down as well? You are making me nervous.’
He did not look in the least uneasy, but Annis lowered the poker anyway.
‘Very well. We shall go to the drawing room. You go first, my lord.’
They descended the stairs in a wary silence.
‘You were acting on Mr Woodhouse’s tip off, were you not?’ Annis asked, when once they were in the drawing room and the poker had been restored to its place by the fire. She watched as Adam kicked the apple logs into a fresh blaze. It seemed comfortable to have him in her drawing room, as though he was in his proper place. Which was all wrong in view of his duplicity. She hardened her heart against him.
‘Woodhouse said that you should look for evidence against Charles, did he not, and though you swore to me that you would not do so, that is exactly what you are doing.’ Annis shrugged wearily. ‘This is not Charles’s house and the only connection he has with it is that he took it for me for the season. There is nothing here for you, my lord. You will have to ask Mr Woodhouse to be more precise.’
Adam stepped closer. ‘I cannot do that. Woodhouse was found head down in the chalybeate well this afternoon.’
Annis whitened. ‘An accident?’
Adam looked sceptical. ‘A convenient one. There were plenty of witnesses to say that he was already drunk by midday. Dead drunk.’
Annis shivered and wrapped her arms around her. ‘You think that it was no coincidence.’
Adam shrugged. ‘I cannot say, but it is expedient for Ingram and damned unhelpful to me.’
He came up to her. ‘Annis, much as I would like to find something to Ingram’s discredit, that is not what concerns me now. I am sorry that I did not speak to you first before I came here—’
‘Why did you not?’
Adam shrugged uncomfortably. ‘Because I knew that it would upset you that I was involving Lafoy in my investigations. I thought that you might even say that I should not look for evidence here, in which case I should not have been able to proceed.’
Annis looked at him. ‘You are right. It is my house and I should have forbidden it.’
Adam sighed. ‘I would have accepted that. So it was easier not to ask you.’
Annis turned away. She felt bruised and tired. ‘That is no excuse.’
‘No, I agree.’ There was a grim set to Adam’s mouth, though whether he was angry with her or with himself, and why, Annis could not be sure. ‘It was very wrong of me and I understand why you are angry. Do you forgive me?’
Annis frowned. ‘No, I do not think so.’
‘I understand why you might not believe me, but I swear to share everything with you in future, Annis. Everything.’
Annis shivered at his tone. He sounded sincere, but he had just shown her that he did not trust her. Her troubled hazel gaze sought his. Adam took a step closer.
‘I am sorry,’ he said again. He put his hands on her upper arms and gently rubbed. Annis felt the hairs rise along her skin and trembled with sensual awareness.
‘It was an unconscionably stupid thing to do,’ Adam said softly, ‘and I truly regret it. It was not that I did not trust you, Annis—I would have told you if I had found anything, I swear.’
The soft stroke of his hands was terribly distracting. Annis tried to concentrate.
‘I am very cross with you. And disappointed.’
‘I understand.’ Adam’s breath stirred her hair. He slid his arms about her. ‘How may I make amends, sweetheart?’
‘I have no notion. Certainly not by kissing me. That would be a very easy way out of the situation.’
‘I agree.’ Adam sat down in one of the armchairs and very gently drew her down on to his lap. Once more he held her close, her head against his shoulder, his arms about her waist. ‘If I may, I will simp
ly hold you. That may do a little to convince you that I am sincere and not just a rake.’
‘And a deceiver.’
Annis felt Adam wince. ‘You are harsh, my sweet. Do you hold grudges?’
‘No, I do not believe so.’ It felt shockingly comforting to be in his arms. Warm, intimate, all the things that Annis had trained herself to live without. She burrowed a little closer to that warmth. ‘Are you truly repentant?’
‘Of course. I knew at the time that it was a foolish thing to do. That is why I was so angry with myself.’ He tilted her face up to his. ‘I do not want to lose your trust, Annis.’
Annis sighed. ‘I think I might forgive you in a few minutes, weak as I am. But only if you promise not to do it again.’
Adam kissed the top of her head. ‘I promise not to break into your house again.’
Annis dug him in the ribs. ‘You know what I mean.’
‘I do. I promise to tell you everything, to share everything with you and only to kiss you when you say that I might…’
Annis pulled away a little. ‘That is very handsome of you, I suppose.’
‘So may I?’
They stared at one another.
‘You may,’ Annis whispered.
She saw him smile before he bent closer, too close for her to focus. She closed her eyes. His mouth took hers softly, sweetly. His tongue touched her lower lip before sliding deeper. Annis raised one hand and touched Adam’s cheek where the stubble was rough against her palm. She felt as though she was melting, slipping into pure pleasure. His body was hard against hers and she could feel the pounding of his heart against her other hand as it rested on his chest. She felt hot and dizzy, overwhelmed by sensation, confused, all common sense lost. Both her head and her heart were reeling.
Adam eased away from her for a moment.
‘You said that you were disappointed in me. Am I disappointing you now, Annis?’
‘That was not what I meant,’ Annis whispered.
‘I know. Marry me.’
He kissed her again, parting her lips, his tongue taking intimate liberties with hers again until she felt weak and clung to him. His hand was on her thigh, warm against the soft silk of her stocking. Annis’s clouded mind cleared slightly. His hand was on her thigh under her skirts and he was stroking her skin very gently. The desire shot through her like wildfire.
The Chaperon Bride Page 19