by Sandra Heath
Kit came to her side at the rail to watch the climax of the race. The sea breeze had stung color into his cheeks, and his windblown hair gave him an almost boyish look. She could see how much he enjoyed being on board the Spindrift, for there was a new light in his eyes and an unforced ease in the way he leaned against the rail beside her.
She looked away from him toward the race. ‘Whose yachts are they?’
‘The one in the lead is Lord Grantham’s Eleanor, the other is Charles Pelham’s Kestrel. Grantham’s bound to win; the Kestrel doesn’t stand a chance now.’
He was right. A moment later, amid cheers and the booming of the corvette’s cannon, Lord Grantham’s sleek cutter skimmed past the buoy in first place. Kit smiled. ‘He may have won today, but he won’t better me tomorrow.’
She watched the two yachts beginning to come about, and then her glance moved to the awning on the corvette. ‘Who are the people on the large vessel?’
‘The royal party. The lady with the bright-yellow pagoda parasol is Princess Sophia, and the plump gentleman at her side is the Duke of Gloucester. The rest are a scattering of earls, a marquess, and several countesses.’
She recalled what the odious Alistair Glenfarrick had said on the quay about the hastily arranged ball. ‘Will we be attending the ball?’
He hesitated. ‘That rather depends.’
‘Upon what?’
He straightened. ‘Upon you, Louisa. I need certain assurances before I’ll even begin to think about taking you to such an occasion. The scene you created at the opera house was disgraceful, and I don’t intend to risk a repetition, especially not in front of royalty.’
It was as if he was lecturing a naughty child! She colored. ‘There were, as I recall, certain rather extenuating circumstances at the opera house.’
‘Those circumstances will apply on the island. Rowe is set to arrive soon, and his wife is already present. You’re bound to encounter them both, and so naturally I require your word that you’ll conduct yourself with dignity and restraint.’
‘I cannot say how I will respond to Lady Rowe, sir, because I don’t know her, but I know her husband, and the way he behaved in London left me in no doubt as to the meanness of his character. I cannot and will not undertake to behave as if I find him agreeable, and I think it ill becomes you, sir, to demand such an impossible thing of me.’
‘It’s hardly impossible for you to conduct yourself civilly, but you expect me to think it is. Very well, since you won’t give me the assurance I require, you leave me no choice but to spare society your presence. During our stay on the island, you will remain at Highclare.’
She stared at him. ‘You – you intend to banish me completely?’
‘In the absence of your cooperation, I have no alternative. I’m not going to risk an unpleasant scene in front of royalty, and it’s quite obvious that you’re prepared to do just that. I also have another reason for preferring to keep you away from Cowes society.’
‘And that is?’ she asked coldly, still unable to believe he was saying all this.
‘I think it preferable to keep you away from all possible contact with Captain Geoffrey Lawrence, whose significance in your life has obviously been rather more than you’ve been prepared to admit.’ He held her gaze, thinking he saw guilt in the way she drew back from him. He wanted to see innocence, but saw only guilt.
So he’d said it directly at last. She hid her heartbreak behind an outer coldness. ‘Don’t presume to judge all women by your mistress, sirrah, for we don’t all betray our marriage vows.’
Anger flashed in his glance, and without another word he left her, to return to his place by the helmsman.
Louisa turned away as well, trembling so much that she had to grip the rail to steady herself. Hurt indignation surged through her. She was being condemned for refusing to dishonor Tom’s memory, and she was also being condemned because Geoffrey Lawrence had formed an unwelcome and unwanted passion for her; in the first she was right, and in the second she was innocent. Why couldn’t Kit be honest and admit that the real reason he wished to keep his wife safely out at Highclare was so that he could more easily keep assignations with his beloved T?
She stared across at the corvette and its attendant craft. Maybe T was watching the Spindrift from one of those yachts, maybe her heart was quickening even now at the thought of being reunited with her lover. Louisa lowered her eyes to the rushing water creaming along the Spindrift’s side.
The island was very close now, and she could see the twisting, narrow streets of the older part of Cowes.
Passing the yachts lying at anchor by the entrance of the harbor, the Spindrift maneuvered much more slowly now, making her way to her berth by the warehouse. She inched into place, and the ropes were made fast. An ox wagon was rattling along the quayside, and a fishing boat was discharging its catch, surrounded by the usual excited cloud of sea gulls. The Mermaid Inn was doing brisk business, and the sound of a man singing a sea chantey drifted from its open doorway.
The crew was carrying the baggage ashore, and a small boy was dispatched to an inn in the town, where a post chaise could be hired to convey Kit, Louisa, and Pattie out to Highclare.
Pattie emerged from the cabin looking pale and unwell, and it was evident that the peppermint essence hadn’t proved beneficial at all. Louisa hurried to assist her ashore, sitting her carefully on a convenient bale of hay until the queasiness passed.
Kit had just stepped ashore as well when a maroon landau with its hoods down approached along the cluttered quay. It contained four very elegantly dressed ladies, their parasols twirling as they laughed and chattered together. He turned the moment he heard it, and his face changed as he realized immediately that it was Thea’s carriage. He’d known that sooner or later she and Louisa were bound to come face to face, but now the moment was being thrust upon him and he had no idea how either woman would react – least of all Louisa, who, although she might not realize Thea was the other woman in his life, would certainly identify her as the wife of Tom’s murderer. Damn Thea for forcing things like this. It wasn’t mere coincidence that brought her carriage along at this precise moment; it was quite deliberate. No doubt she’d seen the Spindrift approaching.
Louisa watched the landau as well, having very swiftly detected his reaction to it. Every sense warned her that she and the mysterious T were about to confront each other for the first time.
The landau drew to a halt, its fine team of grays stamping and shaking their heads. The ladies forgot their laughter and conversation, and their parasols ceased twirling as they quite openly surveyed the intriguing new Lady Highclare.
One of them was small and dark-haired, with a well-rounded figure encased in a fussily frilled pink hat and matching pelisse. Opposite her sat two sallow, mousy creatures in pale blue. They were as alike as two peas in a pod and were unmistakably twins. Louisa accorded these three only brief attention, but the fourth, a breathtakingly lovely blonde in cool lemon silk, was a very different matter. Haughty and superior, her magnificent violet eyes hadn’t moved from Kit, and there was no mistaking the secret truth written large in them. Suddenly they flickered away from her lover to rest malevolently on his new wife. There was ill will in their steady gaze, the malice of a woman faced with another who’d encroached upon her domain.
Thea studied her unexpected rival, appraising her very carefully. She was displeased to find Louisa prettier than she’d expected, but prettiness was one thing, beauty quite another, and in Thea’s opinion Louisa Cherington was hardly a beauty. Nor did she have any right to possess Kit, whose absence had convinced Thea that he was one lover she had no intention of relinquishing. But as Thea gazed spitefully at Louisa, she saw with something of a jolt that there was an awareness and defiance gleaming in the governess’s eyes that spoke volumes. In that brief second, the mistress saw the wife pick up the silently tossed-down gauntlet.
The lady in fussy pink wasn’t aware of the subtle undercurrents; she was just cons
cious of a certain awkwardness. She gave a rather too bright smile and spoke to Kit. ‘La, my lord, how wicked of you to absent yourself from the island without seeking my permission. I’m of a mind to be miffed with you.’
Kit returned her smile, deciding to play the situation by ear and hope that nothing untoward occurred. ‘Lady Grantham, I swear I looked everywhere for you before I departed, but you weren’t to be found. I vow you must have been with one of your lovers.’
‘My what?’ She chuckled a little. ‘Fie on you, sir, for you’re not a gentleman, but I suppose I shall have to forgive you. It wouldn’t do to put you down on the very eve of your inevitable defeat at my husband’s superior hands.’ She extended her hand to him.
He accepted it, still smiling as he drew it to his lips. Then he turned his attention to the ladies in blue. ‘Ah, the Misses Carpenter, how very agreeable it is to meet you again.’ He kissed their hands as well. Then, at last, he was looking at Thea. He had to utter her name – he had no choice – and then it was up to fate how Louisa would react. ‘Lady Rowe,’ he murmured, ‘you’re looking lovelier than ever.’
Louisa froze. Lady Rowe? His secret mistress was Lady Rowe? Shaken, she looked away as he slowly drew Thea’s hand to his lips. A sharp hurt passed keenly through her. It had been bad enough to know that he loved someone else, but to now discover that that someone else was Lady Rowe was simply too much. Shaken, she strove to maintain her composure.
Thea was smiling coolly at Kit. Now that he’d looked into her eyes again, she knew that he wasn’t over her. He may have taken a wife, but his heart was still drawn to his former love; she could, and would, win him back.
Lady Grantham was impatient to be introduced to Louisa. ‘Sir, you’re forgetting your manners. We’re all so eager to be presented to your bride, and you dilly-dally with idle pleasantries.’
‘Forgive me, my lady,’ he replied immediately, taking Louisa’s hand and drawing her forward a little. ‘Louisa, may I present you to Annabel, Lady Grantham, to Miss Ethne and Miss Verity Carpenter, and … to Thea, Lady Rowe.’
Louisa gave no sign of her inner feelings as she smiled at the first three ladies, murmuring that she was very honored to meet them. But if Kit fleetingly hoped that she was going to behave as he wished, that hope was swiftly dashed as she looked coldly at Thea and said not a single word.
It was a snub as deliberate as that she’d dealt Geoffrey in London, and no one could mistake it. Lady Grantham was a little taken aback, and the Misses Carpenter exchanged meaningful glances. Thea’s eyes were like ice. How dared this nonentity, this jumped-up governess, presume to cut her!
At that moment the post chaise approached, drawing up behind the landau. Thea’s cheeks were pink as she abruptly commanded her coachman to drive on. The landau pulled smartly away.
As it vanished from sight, Kit rounded furiously on his wife. ‘Is there no end to your capacity for misconduct?’ he breathed, keeping his tone low so that no one else on the quay would hear. ‘What you did just then was unforgivable, and if I had any lingering doubt about making you remain out at Highclare, that doubt is now completely removed.’
‘I have no doubt that it is, sir,’ she replied in an equally low and angry voice, ‘for you wish to be free to continue your despicable liaison with your mistress, don’t you? So you meant your marriage vows when you uttered them, did you? It’s patently obvious that dear Lady Rowe didn’t mean hers.’
She caught him off guard. He hadn’t realized that she’d perceived the truth; he’d put her conduct down solely to the fact that Thea was Lord Rowe’s wife.
Her eyes were very bright as she looked at him. ‘Oh, yes, I know who she is; I’d have to be a fool not to, for you were both transparent. I marvel that no one else in society appears to have found you out, for to be sure you’re incapable of concealing your illicit love. I’ve misjudged you, sir, for until now I believed you were a gentleman, but the fact is that you have no honor at all. Not content with expecting me to behave graciously toward Lord Rowe, you also expect me to smile sweetly at his wife, when all the time that wife is your mistress.’
A thousand emotions crossed his face, and for a moment she didn’t know how he was going to react, but then he suddenly seized her arm, steering her almost roughly toward the waiting post chaise and bundling her inside.
She sat back against the drab upholstery, fighting back hot tears of anger and hurt. She loved him, but he felt nothing for her at all. He’d promised that he’d show her the respect and consideration due to a wife, but she was being shown neither.
The chaise swayed as the baggage was loaded, and then Pattie climbed hesitantly in, avoiding her mistress’s eyes. A moment later Kit climbed in as well, slamming the door behind him and taking the seat opposite Louisa. His blue eyes were still very stormy, and there was a firm set to his jaw.
The chaise drew away, and Louisa kept her glance lowered. The gulf between them had widened still more, perhaps irrevocably. How long could it possibly be before he wished to rid himself of an unwanted, unloved wife he’d so mistakenly married out of duty?
23
The road to Highclare led west out of Cowes, passing through mellow, rolling countryside from which the Solent could always be seen. The roadside was fringed with soft green ferns, and the hedgerows boasted valerian and fuchsia as well as wild roses and honey-suckle, and there were long low farmhouses and cottages built of gray stone. They nestled in leafy hollows, their windows peeping sleepily from beneath thatched roofs, and their gardens were filled with a riot of summer flowers, but especially with geraniums, which seemed to bloom more luxuriantly here than anywhere else Louisa had ever been.
The apricot scent of sun-drenched gorse filled the air from heathland as the chaise pulled up another gentle hill, and then they were descending again, and suddenly the Solent was hidden from view by a high stone wall over which hung the boughs of ancient oaks. There was a shallow river valley ahead, choked green with trees, but before they reached it, some great wrought-iron gates appeared on the right and the chaise swung toward them. The lodgekeeper was alert, swinging them open for the carriage to pass through. Recognizing Kit inside, he quickly doffed his hat. The carriage drove on, moving smartly along a fine avenue of the great oaks that seemed to proliferate all around.
The breeze rustled the leaves, and through the trees Louisa could see a small herd of deer bounding away, startled by the chaise. Suddenly the avenue ended and the drive emerged into an open park set on a southwest slope, and at the head of this park, against a background of trees, was Highclare itself. It was a beautiful red brick house with a Doric colonnade and stone facings, and it presided over a wide terrace reached by a double flight of steps from the end of the drive. The dormer windows of the third floor were housed in a fine hipped roof that boasted a promenade, and in the center of it there was an octagonal cupola containing a gazebo where supper parties could be held on fine summer evenings. The house commanded incomparable views over the island and the sea, and particularly over the park, which stretched westward for about half a mile, terminating at low cliffs above a rocky private beach. Out on the Solent, Louisa could see the little fishing fleet she’d noticed from the deck of the Spindrift, and on the mainland opposite lay the ancient town of Lymington, its houses very sharp and bright against the endless green of the New Forest.
The chaise drew to a halt at the foot of the terrace steps, and Kit alighted, pausing for a moment to look up at the house before turning to assist Louisa and then Pattie down. Then he drew Louisa a little aside.
‘I know we have differences, Louisa, but before we go into the house, can I beg you to set those differences aside for my grandfather’s sake? He’s old and frail, and it won’t do him any good to see us continually at odds.’
‘You wrong me considerably if you think I’d conduct myself poorly in front of him,’ she replied a little stiffly.
‘Do I? My short acquaintance with you has left me in no doubt that when the circumstances
dictate, you will conduct yourself how you please. My grandfather means a great deal to me, and I want him to be content that ours is a happy marriage.’
‘How will you do that when you leave me behind while you go to Cowes? And how long will it be before servants’ tittle-tattle reaches him about our separate nights? I fail to see how, he will be convinced for long.’
‘You may leave all that to me, Louisa, for all I’m asking of you is some semblance of warmth in our dealings with each other when he’s present.’ He smiled a little cynically. ‘Perhaps you’ll find it easier if you can put it down to my reverence for double standards.’
‘I already had,’ she replied flatly.
‘No doubt. Well? Will you do as I ask?’
‘Will I be your perfect wife?’
‘Yes. To my perfect husband, of course.’
‘Of course. Very well, you have my promise.’
‘Thank you.’ Something seemed to suddenly catch his eye at an upper window of the house. Louisa had her back toward it and so didn’t see the earl watching them. Kit looked quickly at her. ‘You’ve given your word,’ he said softly, ‘so let us seal it with a kiss.’
Before she knew what was happening, he’d drawn her close, enfolding her in his arms in an embrace that to any onlooker must have appeared very loving and tender. He kissed her on the lips, taking his time, his mouth moving slowly over hers.
It was a practiced kiss, the art of a man who’d made love to many women and knew how to please and arouse. She knew this, and she didn’t want to surrender to her treacherous senses, but they were betraying her with each passing second. The fire was beginning to flare through her veins again, just as it had in the chapel, and she felt as if her body was melting with the heat. An enervating desire burned voluptuously within her, robbing her of the will to resist. She just wanted to surrender to him, to submit her soul and give herself up to the passion that he alone had ever stirred. But he was using her! The cold touch of reality made desire recoil, and with a huge effort she dragged her lips away from his.