Beauty and the Brooding Lord

by Sarah Mallory

  ‘Yes, thank you.’ Serena perched on the edge of a sofa. ‘We dined with several of Quinn’s tenants during our travels, but it was all rather formal. They were very much aware that he is their landlord.’

  ‘And did you visit all your estates, even Northumberland?’ asked Tony. ‘That must have been a gruelling schedule.’

  ‘No.’ Quinn carried two glasses of wine over to the sofa and took a seat beside Serena. ‘We only went as far north as Leicester before going to Devon, then on to Sussex, where we took the opportunity to stop a few nights in Worthing.’

  ‘Worthing!’ Tony exclaimed. ‘What in heaven’s name took you there?’

  ‘You forget, my dear,’ said Lottie, a laugh trembling in her voice. ‘The Hambridges were going to Worthing directly after the wedding and with Redlands being only ten miles away, it would have looked odd if they had not called in.’

  ‘Aye, it would,’ Quinn agreed. ‘They are there with the Newbolds.’

  Serena did not miss the horrified look that passed between Tony and his wife.

  ‘And, you stayed with them?’

  Quinn shook his head. ‘I had already contacted an old friend who was delighted to put us up. I do not think my wife was too unhappy with the arrangement.’

  He glanced at Serena, his eyes warm with amusement, and she could not but smile in response. The days spent in Sussex had been the most interesting and enjoyable of the whole tour. Redlands, Quinn’s Sussex property, was a grand Palladian mansion, much used for entertaining by Quinn’s parents, but he had leased it to a rich nabob who had returned from India with a large fortune and ambitions to match. Ten minutes in his tenant’s company had shown Serena why Quinn had advised they refuse the invitation to stay at the house and instead they had been the guests of Dr Young and his wife, Eliza.

  It was not long before Serena realised that her husband’s friend was the celebrated polymath, Thomas Young. The doctor was quite delighted when Serena told him she knew of his work on decipherment of Egyptian hieroglyphs, and more specifically the Rosetta Stone, and when the gentlemen joined the ladies in the drawing room each evening their discussions ranged widely, from medicine, physics and Egyptology to Dr Young’s thoughts on tuning musical instruments and his abhorrence of slavery.

  ‘A visit to Henry and Dorothea was unavoidable, since we were in the area,’ Serena said now, ‘but I was very glad we were not obliged to stay with them.’

  ‘Aye,’ added Quinn, with feeling. ‘One dinner in their company was quite sufficient. However, Serena assures me her other brother, Russ, is a very different character. He and his family live in the north. Yorkshire, I believe. We will visit them on our way to the Northumberland house. I want to show Serena the coalmines.’

  ‘Coal!’ Lottie pulled a face.

  ‘They are very lucrative, even if they are not beautiful,’ remarked Tony, laughing at his wife’s look of distaste. ‘However, visiting properties ranging from Devon to Leicestershire and Sussex in six weeks is no mean feat. You must be completely fatigued, Lady Quinn.’

  That had been the point of it, thought Serena. Travelling the breadth of the country, driving about each of the estates, meeting tenants, talking to stewards and local villagers. There had been no time or energy for dalliance. Her husband had been attentive and friendly, dinners had been companionable enough, but every night Serena left Quinn alone with his brandy and retired to her room. Mostly she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep of exhaustion, but some nights her slumbers were disturbed by dark, terrifying nightmares: Sir Timothy ripping her clothes, pressing hot, brandy-fumed kisses upon her, dragging her back from the window when she shrieked for someone to help her.

  ‘Scream if you wish,’ he had jeered, throwing her down on the bed. ‘Do you think anyone can hear you? Do you think anyone cares?’

  ‘And what did you think of the other houses, Lady Quinn?’ Serena jumped as Lady Beckford addressed her. ‘Are you going to turn out any of the tenants?’

  ‘Lottie!’

  ‘What have I said?’ She raised her brows at her husband. ‘Is that not what Quinn told us he would do, if Serena wanted to live in one of them?’

  Quinn laughed. ‘I did, but you need not fear for my tenants just yet. We have the hunting lodge in Leicestershire and my wife tells me she is not enamoured of any of the other properties.’

  ‘They are all very fine,’ put in Serena, ‘but most are very large. I prefer Melham Court and I agree with Quinn—it is better that the properties are occupied rather than standing empty for most of the year.’

  ‘Well I for one am very relieved to hear it,’ Lottie told her. ‘I think we are going to be very good friends, Serena!’

  Chapter Six

  Lottie repeated this sentiment when the two ladies retired to the drawing room after dinner.

  ‘Tony will be glad not to lose Quinn’s company. They have been friends for ever, you know, and went to the same school. It might even be said they grew up together.’

  ‘Oh?’ Serena was puzzled. ‘I thought Quinn’s family preferred houses where they might entertain in style.’

  ‘They did.’ Lottie sat down on the sofa and patted the seat, inviting Serena to join her. ‘However, they left Quinn in Hertfordshire for most of the year, until he was old enough to go to school.’

  ‘Ah, poor boy!’

  ‘Quite.’ Lottie’s cheerful face showed uncharacteristic disapproval. ‘Fortunately, Tony’s family is an ancient one and Lord and Lady Quinn considered him a suitable companion, so Quinn spent a great deal of his time here at Prior’s Holt.’

  Serena shifted in her seat. ‘Perhaps you should not be telling me this, if your husband told you in confidence.’

  ‘No, no, my family lived nearby, you see, and most of it is common knowledge locally. But if you would rather not hear any more—’

  ‘On the contrary,’ Serena assured her. ‘I would like to know as much as possible. Everything. It might help me to be a better wife.’ She flushed. ‘You are aware that the circumstances of our marriage are somewhat...unusual.’

  Lottie gave her a speaking look and reached across to squeeze her hand.

  She continued, ‘Quinn received a great deal more affection here than from his own parents. It came as no surprise when he offered for Tony’s sister.’

  ‘Ah.’ Quinn’s words came back to Serena. ‘She died, I believe?’

  ‘Yes. Poor Barbara. Such a lively girl. She was barely a year younger than Quinn and they were inseparable. They wanted to marry once she reached eighteen but Quinn’s parents refused to countenance a match. They had selected a viscount’s daughter for his bride. Quinn stood firm, though. He and Barbara were engaged as soon as he reached his majority.’ She spread her hands and gave a loud sigh. ‘Barbara went off to town to purchase her bride clothes and contracted a fever while she was there. She was dead within the month. Poor Quinn—he loved her so much. He has hated London ever since and rarely goes into society.’

  Lottie paused and Serena could think of nothing to say to fill the silence. She knew what it was like to be brought up by nannies and tutors, and her heart went out to the lonely child Quinn had been. And then how devastating to lose the love of his life so cruelly.

  ‘But that is all changed now.’ Lottie gave herself a little shake, throwing off the melancholy thoughts. ‘We always hoped Quinn would find someone else to make him happy.’

  ‘You mistake,’ stammered Serena. ‘It is n-not a love match.’

  ‘Not yet, but you are so beautiful I have no doubt he will soon fall in love with you,’ replied Lottie comfortably. ‘Tell me, is there any indication that you might be in an interesting state? Oh, now I have made you blush! Pray forgive me, Serena. I should not be asking such questions, should I? Tony is always chiding me for being far too forward.’

  ‘No, no, I am not offended, but, no, I am n-not with child...�
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  Lottie reached out and caught her hands. ‘Do not worry, my dear, there is plenty of time. Your marriage is very young yet.’

  Serena murmured her agreement and sought for a way to turn the conversation away from her marriage.

  ‘Do you have children, Lady Beckford?’

  ‘Call me Lottie, my dear, I pray you.’ She smiled, but a shadow passed across her face. ‘Alas, no. I suffered an illness in the early years of our marriage, you see, which has left my heart weak. We have consulted the best doctors in the land but they are all agreed that it would be unwise for me to bear a child.’

  ‘Oh, I am sorry.’

  ‘Do not be. Tony and I came to terms with the fact long ago and have a very happy life, I assure you.’ She gave Serena a quick, mischievous look. ‘And I hope you will make us godparents to your own children, that we may spoil them quite shamelessly!’

  Serena wondered what Lottie would say if she knew that the marriage was not even consummated, but she summoned up a laugh, determined her new friend should not suspect there was anything amiss. However, it was with relief that she heard the door open and the gentlemen came in, putting an end to further confidences.

  * * *

  Quinn followed his host into the drawing room and his eyes went immediately to Serena. He thought how good it was to hear her laugh, but when he drew closer he saw that the merriment did not reach her eyes and he was surprised how much that disturbed him. How much he wanted to make her happy.

  He gave her a small, reassuring smile and lowered himself into a chair near the empty fireplace, where he could watch her. There was no doubt she was beautiful, with her golden curls, chocolate-coloured eyes and her serene smile, but she had a distant, detached air and he was haunted by the memory of the first time he had seen her, full of energy, her eyes sparking fire at him.

  ‘What say you, Quinn?’ Tony’s voice jolted him back to the present.

  ‘I beg your pardon, what was that?’

  ‘You know we always hold a ball every summer, but this year Lottie deliberately delayed until you returned, because she wants to introduce your new bride to the neighbourhood. It will not be a very large affair, mainly local families, although we have invited some of our friends from town, those who have not gone off to Brighton for the summer.’

  From across the room Lottie wagged her finger at Quinn. ‘You have refused my invitations thus far, my lord, but you cannot do so this time.’

  ‘Indeed, I cannot. If my wife wishes to attend then we shall do so.’ He looked a question at Serena.

  ‘Of course. We are delighted to accept.’

  Was he the only one to notice the lack of enthusiasm in her response? She wanted company no more than he. In that, at least, they were in accord.

  * * *

  The drive back to Melham Court was accomplished in silence. It was impossible to pierce the darkness, but Serena was aware of Quinn’s abstraction. Prior’s Holt was the home of his lost love. Did visiting there remind him of Barbara? She could not ask him such a question, but she longed to reach out for his hand, to comfort him and take comfort in return. Instead they remained in their separate corners for the journey.

  ‘It has been a tiring evening,’ Quinn remarked as he handed her out of the carriage. ‘Shall I escort you directly to your room?’

  ‘Yes, thank you.’ As they made their way up the stairs she asked him a question that had been teasing her. ‘Would you rather we did not go to Lady Beckford’s ball?’

  ‘By no means. You know I am not fond of such events, but I think it is necessary that we go to this, do not you?’

  ‘Why yes, I do.’ She risked a tiny smile. ‘I have no doubt your neighbours will be agog to see your new bride.’

  ‘They will indeed.’ They had reached the door of her chamber and he stopped. ‘We shall at some point be obliged to hold something similar here, but this will relieve you of the necessity of planning anything of that nature just yet.’

  ‘Oh?’ Her head came up. ‘Do you think I could not do it?’

  ‘I am sure you could, but I would like you to take your time to settle into your new home.’

  He raised her hand to his lips, murmured goodnight and walked away, leaving Serena to enter her chamber where she found Polly dozing in a chair.

  ‘Oh, lawks, my lady, I beg your pardon. I tried so hard to stay awake.’

  She waved away the maid’s apologies. ‘I see no reason why you should not rest while you wait for me.’

  Polly bustled around, helping her into her nightgown, and Serena allowed her thoughts to wander. She was disappointed at the little spurt of anger that had caused her to challenge Quinn like that, for she had resolved to maintain an attitude of quiet obedience towards her husband. After all, he had rescued her from a shameful escapade and deserved nothing less than a conformable wife, as Dorothea had pointed out to her constantly in the days leading up to the wedding.

  ‘It was your wilfulness that brought you to this pass, Serena. You must curb that headstrong nature of yours. No man wants to be married to a termagant!’

  ‘Would you like me to stay and brush out your curls, ma’am?’

  ‘Thank you, Polly, but I can do that. Off you go to bed now.’

  When the maid had gone, Serena sat at her dressing table and pulled the brush slowly through her hair. Day and night her sister-in-law’s words ran through her head, a never-ending litany. Since the wedding she had tried to be a model wife and Quinn appeared quite content. Certainly, he had made no physical demands upon her. Apart from that one kiss, on their wedding day.

  It was seared in her memory, the feel of his lips on hers, the sudden scorching desire that had shocked her to the core. She had run away from him then and he had made no effort to detain her, or to kiss her again. He was unfailingly polite and considerate, but it appeared that Quinn did not want her, termagant or no.

  * * *

  A week later they were back at Prior’s Holt for the Beckfords’ ball. It was their first formal engagement and a little shiver ran down Serena’s back as the liveried servant announced them. Lord and Lady Quinn. There was no going back now.

  Quinn put his hand over her fingers, where they rested on his arm.

  ‘Nervous?’

  She glanced up at him. She had prepared carefully for the evening, choosing to wear once more the gown she had worn on her wedding day. The cream muslin was decorated at the neck, sleeves and hem with delicately embroidered apricot flowers and a tracery of leaves, all enhanced by silver thread work. She had allowed Polly to nestle matching roses among her curls and had put on the diamond ear drops and necklace that Quinn had given her as a wedding gift. In looks at least she hoped she would not disappoint.

  ‘I trust I shall not let you down, my lord.’

  He squeezed her hand. ‘You could never do that, Serena.’

  She straightened her shoulders and raised her head. She had little interest in what anyone thought of her, but this was Quinn’s neighbourhood and she wanted to make a good impression, for his sake.

  Lottie came forward to greet them, Tony only a step behind. Serena was enveloped in a warm, scented embrace before her hostess carried her away, bent upon introducing the new bride to as many people as possible before the dancing began.

  ‘I am so glad you did not come fashionably late,’ she said, linking arms with Serena. ‘The dancing will not commence for an hour yet, so we have plenty of time for introductions. You will be acquainted with most of our guests from town, I am sure. Indeed, one is a close friend of yours, I believe. But our near neighbours are all impatient to meet you.’

  ‘Should we not wait for my husband?’ asked Serena, hanging back.

  Lottie gave a little laugh. ‘You must not worry about Quinn. He is the most unsociable man I know and would not enjoy doing the pretty. Much better to leave him with Tony. Now, let m
e see, who shall be first? Let us begin with Sir Grinwald and Lady Brook, the local magistrate and his wife...’

  Time passed in a whirl of new names and faces for Serena. She was aware that behind the polite greetings and questions, Lottie’s guests were all very curious. As Sir Grinwald put it, most improperly, they wanted to know what had made the old dog put his head in the parson’s mousetrap at last. For the first time she was grateful that Dorothea had insisted she should be well versed in the social graces. Now that training came to her aid. She smiled and talked, responding to compliments and turning off sly questions about married life with an elegant riposte.

  Everyone was charming, but Serena was not fooled. Quinn’s immediate neighbours were genuinely welcoming, but she detected a coolness in those who mixed more in London society. They had heard the rumours and were reserving judgement upon the new Lady Quinn.

  There was only one awkward moment. Lottie was glancing about her, wondering who next should be presented to the new bride, when Serena spotted Mrs Downing across the room, accompanied by her son and daughter. Shock held her motionless, then she recalled Lottie’s words about the guests here tonight: one is a close friend of yours. She meant Elizabeth, of course.

  How wrong Lottie was to think they could still be friends, thought Serena, wretchedly. She was not aware of holding her breath, until Lottie tugged her arm and led her off to introduce her to an elderly couple who were near neighbours. It was only then she realised how relieved she was that she need not face the Downings. Not yet.

  * * *

  ‘Well, it is going very well,’ announced Lottie at last. ‘Now let us go through to the ballroom, for that scraping of fiddles tells me the musicians are ready to strike up. To whom shall we allow the honour of the first dance with you, I wonder?’

  ‘No one.’ Quinn appeared, his large frame blocking their way. ‘You have done quite enough for now, Lottie. I have come to claim my bride for the first two dances.’