She found Adam waiting for her at the entrance to the shrubbery. As she approached, he held his arm out to her.
‘Good morning, Miss Halbrook. It is such a lovely day no one will wonder at us strolling here, if we should be seen.’
After the briefest hesitation she stepped up beside him, placing her fingers on his sleeve.
‘Sir James will have witnessed a beautiful sunrise this morning.’
It was all she could think of to say. Now she was here she could not bring herself to ask him about Ralph. That would be too disloyal.
‘I am surprised he can go there, knowing it is where his daughter...where his daughter ended her life.’
Lucy said gently, ‘But I understand it was also one of her favourite places.’
‘Oh, yes.’
Adam said no more, and she looked at him. He was frowning, lost in his own thoughts, and she felt a flicker of impatience.
‘Mr Cottingham, I—’
‘You will be wondering what it is I wanted to say to you.’ He interrupted her. ‘I warned you to be on your guard, Miss Halbrook. My cousin is a passionate man.’
Lucy flushed.
‘That is not a crime.’
‘No, when it is under regulation. But...Adversane’s temper is ungovernable.’
‘I have seen no sign of it.’
‘But how long have you known him? I mean really known him, not merely meeting him in company.’
She put up her chin.
‘I think I know him quite well. He is a strong character, of course, but—’
‘Strong! Oh, yes,’ he said bitterly. ‘Adversane must have his way in all things!’ He fell silent, as if fighting with himself. At last he spoke again, his voice unsteady with suppressed anger. ‘It was always thus. As heir to Adversane he was denied nothing—imagine what that did for a temper that was naturally autocratic. He grew up demanding that everyone bend to his will.’
‘I do not believe that.’
‘Oh, he hides it well, dressing up his demands as requests, but he will allow nothing to stand in his way.’
If Ralph wants you, he will have you.
Lucy tried to shut out Margaret’s words.
‘But he is well respected. I hear nothing but praise for him when I go out—’
‘Hah! Money and power will buy you many friends, Miss Halbrook.’
‘No, it is genuine, I am sure—’
But he was not listening to her.
‘Ralph and Helene should never have married,’ he said, scowling. ‘She was an angel. Everyone says so. Everyone loved her. She was too good, too kind for that monster—’
Lucy pulled her arm away.
‘Enough,’ she said angrily. ‘I will not have you talk of Adversane like that!’
She began to hurry away from him, but he followed her.
‘He took Helene for his wife, frightened her with his passion and his harsh words, so much so that in the end she was desperate to get away from him. That is why she ran to Druids Rock on the night of the ball.’
‘You cannot blame Ralph for her accident.’
‘It was no accident.’ Lucy stopped and he continued in a low voice, ‘She went to Druids Rock to end everything, and it was because of my cousin.’
She shook her head and said again, ‘You cannot blame Ralph.’
‘Who else should I blame? He was her husband. He should have cherished her, loved her.’
‘I am sure he did, in his way.’ She looked up suddenly. ‘But how do you know so much of this?’
‘I?’ he said, startled. ‘Why, I am Adversane’s cousin. I spent a great deal of time here. I observed him and his wife. Perhaps I saw too much.’
‘I am not sure you should be telling me this, Mr Cottingham.’
‘But I am concerned for you.’
‘Thank you, but I can look after myself.’ They had reached the entrance to the shrubbery, but as she went to leave he caught her arm.
‘I am sure you can, ma’am, but you know he is trying to change you.’ He came closer. ‘She was beautiful, but when she did not live up to his ideal he drove her to her death. Now he is trying to mould you into her image!’
‘No!’ Lucy shook him off. ‘Good day to you, Mr Cottingham.’
It was preposterous. Outrageous. She would not believe it. She had been a fool to listen to him. Lucy hurried into the house, glad that Adam did not follow her. Margaret and Caroline were already at breakfast with their husbands and they all looked up as she entered.
Margaret paused, her coffee cup halfway to her mouth.
‘My dear, you are looking very pale. Are you unwell?’
Lucy stopped just inside the door.
‘I hardly know.’ She felt a little dazed.
‘Missing Ralph, no doubt.’
Margaret frowned at her sister. ‘Be quiet, Caro. Lucy, you do not look at all well. Let me take you to your room.’
Lucy waved her back into her seat.
‘No, thank you, I can manage. But I will go and lie down.’
‘Good idea,’ agreed Sir Timothy. ‘I think it is too hot for riding. In fact, I am trying to persuade the ladies not to go.’
‘Pho, as if we should listen to you, Timothy! Meg and I will not melt because of a little sunshine...’
Lucy left them to their banter. She would stay quietly in her room for a while until she could organise her chaotic thoughts. Not that she believed a word that Adam Cottingham had said, but meeting with him had not helped her at all. It was her own fault, of course. She had encouraged him to be open with her and now she could hardly blame him for voicing his opinions. She entered her bedchamber and was surprised to see the dressing room door was open. Someone was moving around inside. Ruthie should have gone downstairs to her own breakfast by now. Lucy crossed the room, intent upon sending the maid away.
‘Oh.’ She stopped, frowning, when she found herself confronting not her maid, but a complete stranger.
Before her stood a thin, grey-haired woman, soberly dressed as befitted an upper servant. Lucy’s brow cleared.
‘Miss Crimplesham, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, ma’am.’ The woman dipped a reluctant curtsey but made no attempt to leave. Her face was blotched, as if she had been crying.
Lucy said gently, ‘I have no doubt you are very familiar with these rooms, but you are Miss Preston’s dresser now, and she is in the guest wing.’
‘It’s all the same.’
Lucy frowned. ‘I beg your pardon?’
‘Nothing’s changed.’ Miss Crimplesham turned back to the gowns hanging on the pegs along one wall. She began to pull out the skirts, one after the other. ‘All these dresses, all identical to those worn by my lady. The quality is not the same, of course—my lady always had her gowns made by the best modistes in Harrogate and London. And they are bigger, too. Slender as a reed was Miss Helene. You’ve the look of her, but you’re not as beautiful as my mistress. Lord Adversane always said she was the most beautiful woman he had ever known. She could have been so happy, if it hadn’t been for that man.’
Lucy drew herself up.
‘That is quite enough, Crimplesham. I think you should go now.’
She injected as much quiet firmness into her voice as she could, and was relieved when the dresser swept past her and out of the room. Alone at last, Lucy sank down upon her dressing stool. She was trembling and she wrapped her arms about herself. What did it all mean? Was there some sort of plot to turn her against Ralph?
She shook her head, putting her hands to her temples. No, she did not believe Miss Crimplesham was party to any conspiracy. The poor woman was merely disturbed by grief, but coming so soon after her encounter with Adam Cottingham, Lucy found herself wondering if she was wise to trust Ral
ph.
Perhaps he, too, was so grief-stricken that he wanted to recreate his lost love. That would explain why he had chosen her, why he insisted she wear gowns identical to those worn by his wife. Lucy did not want to believe it, but what other reason could there be?
‘There must be another reason,’ she told herself. ‘There has to be.’
But no matter how much she thought about it, no other explanation presented itself.
Chapter Twelve
‘Ooh, Miss, you look a picture!’
It did not need Ruthie’s hushed exclamation to tell Lucy that she looked very well. She was standing before her mirror in the scarlet gown. The colour accentuated the creamy tones of her skin and set off her hair, which had been lightened to honey-blond by the recent sunshine.
‘Indeed, madam, I do not think I have ever made a finer gown.’ Mrs Sutton stood to one side, smiling with satisfaction as she regarded her handiwork. ‘And it fits perfectly. No alterations are required, save to put up the hem.’
Lucy stared at herself in the long glass. If only she had not gone out to meet Adam that morning—and if she had not come back to find Miss Crimplesham in her room—she might have been able to overcome her doubts, but now the thought of wearing the gown filled her with unease.
She said suddenly, ‘Would you mind waiting a moment? I would like to slip outside.’
Holding up her skirts, she went out to the Long Gallery and stood before the portrait of Helene. She was being foolish, she knew, but she was hoping there was some mistake, that the gown was not a perfect replica, but when she studied the painting it was clear the gown was exact to the last detail. Only the wearer was different, she thought sadly. A pale imitation of perfection.
‘Helene!’
The tortured whisper made her swing around. Adam Cottingham was staring at her. After a moment he gave a start.
‘Miss Halbrook, is that you? For a moment I—’ He came closer, frowning. ‘That gown, why—no, don’t tell me,’ he added bitterly. ‘Adversane ordered it.’
‘Yes.’
‘He cannot make you wear it.’ His face contorted with disgust. ‘It is too monstrous! Tell me you will put it away.’
‘I cannot do that, sir,’ she said gently. ‘I have agreed to wear it on Midsummer’s Eve—’
‘No, you cannot, you must not!’ He grabbed her hand, saying urgently, ‘Promise me you will wear something else. It is too dangerous!’
‘Dangerous?’
She frowned, but he was already shaking his head and saying in an agitated voice, ‘Forgive me, it is no business of mine.’ He raised her hand to his lips. ‘Seeing you there, suddenly I thought...’ He cupped her face with his free hand and gazed at her, the sadness of the world in his eyes.
‘Mr Cottingham,’ she began, unnerved. ‘Adam—’
‘Forgive me,’ he said again, before shaking his head and rushing away.
* * *
‘Very touching.’
Ralph’s voice, cold as ice, made her jump. He was standing at the far end of the gallery, and she guessed he had just come in. He was dressed for riding and still carried his crop in one gloved hand.
‘Would you mind telling what you were doing here with Cottingham?’ His tone was cutting, and the end of the riding crop tapped an angry tattoo against the side of one dusty top boot.
‘Not at all,’ she retorted. ‘If you would ask me in a civilised manner!’
* * *
Ralph’s jealous anger receded as quickly as it had come. By heaven, she looked magnificent, standing there in that red gown, her green eyes sparkling like fiery emeralds.
‘I beg your pardon. I have this moment returned from Halifax. I was...surprised to see you here.’ His eyes slid over her gown. He thought she had never looked better.
‘Mrs Sutton is waiting in my chamber to finish the hem,’ she explained. ‘I just wanted to compare it to...’ She tailed off, waving one hand vaguely in the direction of the portrait.
‘And my cousin found you thus.’
‘Yes. It was all very innocent.’
The image of Adam cupping her face flashed into his mind. He said curtly, ‘For you, perhaps.’
‘And what do you mean by that?’
‘Ariadne tells me you were walking in the gardens with him this morning.’
‘Yes, I took a walk before breakf—’
‘I would rather you did not allow him to be alone with you.’
‘Oh? Why?’
Ralph hesitated. Why indeed? Some instinct, a gut feeling, said Adam was a threat, but cold logic told him that could not be. After all, he had already ascertained that Adam was with his wife the night Helene died.
‘Well, my lord?’
He was goaded into a retort.
‘I should have thought that was obvious.’
Her brows went up.
‘Can it be that you are jealous, my lord?’
Was that it? Was that the threat he feared, that Lucy might prefer his cousin? His mouth twisted into a wry smile.
‘I think I am.’
He watched the stormy light in her eyes die away and a becoming blush mantled her cheeks. It was as much as he could do not to sweep her up and carry her off to his room. Instead, he contented himself with picking up her hand and placing a light kiss on her fingers. They trembled slightly beneath his touch.
‘Ralph?’ She was looking up at him, a faint question in her eyes. ‘May I not wear another gown on Midsummer’s Eve?’
‘But you look truly lovely in that one, my dear.’
And perfect for his plans.
‘But why is it so important to you that I wear this one?’
Tell her the truth, man!
He gripped his riding crop even tighter. The Adversane name, the family honour was at stake. Pride would not allow him to voice his suspicions without more proof.
‘Please, Ralph, I would be happier in something else.’
How he wanted to please her, but he was so close now. She had to wear that gown if he was ever to know the truth. When it was all over he would tell her, even if it meant admitting he was wrong. But not yet. Not now.
‘I need you to wear it,’ he said at last. ‘I need to prove something.’
‘But you will not tell me what it is.’
‘No.’
‘Ralph—’
‘By God, madam, must you question me at every turn? I cannot tell you. Not yet.’ He dropped her hand. ‘It was so much easier when you were merely an employee.’
Pain flickered in her eyes as his words lashed her, and he immediately regretted his rash utterance. She pulled herself up, almost trembling with a proud, stubborn anger that matched his own.
‘Then that is what I shall be. I will wear this gown, since you insist upon it, but if you will not tell me why, if you cannot trust me, then I cannot marry you. I will fulfil the contract and then I will leave, as we originally agreed.’
Ralph stared at her, recognising a kindred spirit. She took his breath away. He was standing on the edge of a precipice and she was cutting the ground from beneath his feet. He needed to respond but could not find the words. Lucy met his hard gaze steadily. He only had to speak, to tell her. The moments crept by in a long, painful silence while he tried to formulate a sentence, a phrase, but nothing would come. At last, keeping her head high, she turned and walked away.
* * *
Lucy went back to her chamber. She fought back the tears, determined not to cry in front of Ruthie or Mrs Sutton and her assistant. She stood silently while they fussed around her, all of them too intent upon the beautiful robe to notice her wooden countenance or the brevity of her responses.
She had just stepped out of the gown when Adversane walked in unannounced. Ruthie gave a
small shriek and quickly threw Lucy’s wrap around her bare shoulders.
‘Leave us,’ he barked. ‘I wish to talk to Miss Halbrook alone.’
Lucy gave him a haughty look.
‘Mrs Sutton has yet to sew up the hem.’
‘Then she may do so elsewhere. Go. Now!’
The dressmaker and her assistant snatched up their things and almost ran from the room, but the maid hovered beside Lucy, frightened but determined not to abandon her mistress.
Lucy touched her arm. ‘It is all right, Ruthie, you may go. I will ring when I need you.’ As the maid scuttled from the room, Lucy turned back to Ralph, saying coldly, ‘What now, my lord, do you have some new demand for your employee?’
‘You are angry with me, and rightly so. I have come to explain.’
There was no softening of his countenance or his tone, but Lucy did not expect that. The fact that he was here at all was more than she had dared to hope for.
‘Very well.’
She glanced about her before perching herself on the dressing stool. The only other seat in the room was the small sofa at the end of the bed and she would not risk him sitting beside her. For a long time he stood in silence, looking down at her.
‘I do not see her,’ he said at last. ‘When I look at you, I do not see Helene.’
‘But I look like her.’ Lucy shivered as she thought of Lady Preston’s words. ‘A pale imitation.’
‘There is nothing pale about you. Harry saw it from the beginning. He said you had fire in you.’
‘Mr Colne knows your plan?’
He nodded. ‘I told him of it the night he brought Francesca to dinner. He had guessed something was amiss when he saw you in that blue gown and came to my study to challenge me.’
‘I know.’ Lucy nodded. ‘I heard him.’
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