The stables now came into view. She rode as fast as she could, scarcely daring to breathe, then let out a huge sigh of relief as she clattered into the stable yard. Safe at last!
Dismounting quickly, she all but ran in to the house.
‘Where is the Earl?’ she demanded of Crump, who was at that moment crossing the hall.
‘He’s in his study, my lady, but . . . ’
Madeline waited no longer, leaving Crump to say, ‘. . . he has someone with him,’ to empty air.
‘Philip, I have to speak to —’ said Madeline, throwing open the door to Philip’s study, before belatedly realising that the estate manager was with him.
‘I can come back later,’ said the manager, looking uncertainly from the Earl to the Countess and back again.
‘Do that please,’ said Philip, his eyes never once leaving Madeline. ‘Now then,’ he said, when they were alone, standing up and coming round the desk to place his hands on his shoulders, ‘tell me, what is the matter?’
‘There was someone following me,’ said Madeline, in her fear blurting the words out without preamble. ‘Out on the moor. He has followed me all the way back to the Manor. I thought I would never escape. I was wrong to refuse protection, how I wished for it when I found myself alone.’
Philip relaxed at her admission, but then said, ‘Describe him.’
‘I can’t. He was too far away for me to see him properly. But a rough man, not a gentleman. He was dressed as a labourer. He was wearing some kind of breeches and a shirt, but no coat. He must have something to do with Jack,’ she said.
‘No.’ Philip shook his head.
‘What then?’ Madeline faltered, perplexed by Philip’s attitude. He did not seem worried, or even surprised.
He sank back on to his desk with a frown. ‘Madeline . . . ’
‘Yes?’
‘You are not in any danger.’
‘How can you say that? I have been followed across the moor. How can I not be in danger?’
‘The man you saw . . . His name is Jenkins. He is someone who . . . works . . . for me from time to time.’
‘He works for you?’ asked Madeline, confused.
‘Yes.’
‘Then why was he following me?’ She suddenly broke off. ‘You’ve been having me followed,’ she said accusingly.
‘Madeline —’
‘Haven’t you?’ she demanded.
‘You have just admitted that you wished you had someone with you when you thought you were in danger,’ Philip pointed out.
‘But I wasn’t in any danger. I only thought I was because you set someone to follow me!’
‘What else was I to do?’ he demanded. ‘There are dangerous forces at work here, Madeline. You know that. You have seen them for yourself. Jack is involved in something extremely perilous, and the men who are pursuing him will stop at nothing. They will use any means in their power to bring him down, and if they feel it will be to their advantage to harm you then they will do so. I needed to know you would be safe.’ He took a deep breath and when he was calmer he continued. ‘Sometimes we do the right things for the wrong reasons; or the wrong things for the right reasons. Life is not always simple.’
‘No,’ she said. ‘I am beginning to realise that.’
For although she was angry with Philip for deceiving her she was also relieved that he had taken her safety seriously. Such confusing emotions were new to her. In her father’s, and then her uncle’s, care, her emotions had been simple. She had been afraid of her father and afraid of her uncle. She had been sorry for her mother. She had wanted to escape. It had all been clear. But now it was all muddy. She did not want to be lied to and she did not want people taking her choices away from her. But neither did she want to be in danger. Philip had ensured her safety, but only by deceiving her. She did not know whether to feel grateful to him or angry with him, and she was caught up in a confusing mixture of both emotions.
‘You have led a protected life so far,’ he said gently. ‘I know it was unhappy and frightening, but at least it was not confusing. Now that you are free you are learning that life outside a prison is perplexing, are you not?’
She nodded. ‘Yes, I am.’
‘In time you will grow used to such conflicts. They arise all the time in ordinary life. As soon as two or more people are together there is inevitably conflict, even if they like and respect each other. In order to resolve those conflicts there needs to be good will on both sides, and a willingness to give and take. But I think in this case I took too much. I was afraid for you and so I took your choices away from you.’
‘But you protected me,’ she said.
‘Yes I did. Can you forgive me?’ he asked.
She turned it over in her mind and found that she could.
‘I can this time,’ she said. ‘But what about next time?’
‘Next time we will be able to trust each other a little more and talk about our ideas more, and we will not stop until we are both happy with the conclusion.’
‘Is that really possible?’ she asked.
He laughed, and the tension broke.
‘I don’t know,’ he admitted. ‘But we can try.’
There was something so warm and happy about him that she felt herself begin to melt. The walls she had built around herself were disintegrating and for a moment she forgot that their marriage was not real. Only to be reminded of it a minute later when he said, ‘You are very precious to me, Madeline.’
Very precious to me. Yes, indeed. She was very precious to him. She was the key which would unlock his fortune.
She felt deflated, although she had no reason to be. She had known the limits of the marriage from the start. She ought to be happy.
The sound of the gong came from the hall, rescuing her from her conflicting emotions. She excused herself, glad to have the opportunity to escape, and went upstairs, where she dressed for dinner.
When she joined Philip in the dining-room as dinner was served, she steered the conversation away from personal matters and asked Philip about his trip to London to see Callaghan.
‘Have you learnt any more about Jack from Callaghan?’ she asked Madeline.
‘Unfortunately not.’ Philip took a drink of wine and put down his glass. ‘Callaghan is giving nothing away. All I learnt was that he was pleased to get the message and even more pleased to get Peters. Other than that, he told me nothing. All he did was to give me his itinerary for the rest of the year. That way, if I need to contact him again, I will know where to find him.’
Madeline nodded.
Philip took a mouthful of beef and then said, ‘You went to see the cottages, I hear?’
‘Yes. It was when I was on my way back that I spotted Jenkins. It was he who told you I’d visited them, I suppose?’
‘Actually, it wasn’t. I’ve been talking to Old Ned.’
‘You went up to the cottages as well today?’
‘Yes. I wanted to inspect them with a view to my plans for their replacement. I went up after leaving you.’ He cast her a humorous look. ‘You’ve made quite a hit with Old Ned.’
Madeline smiled affectionately as she remembered the old rogue with a twinkle in his eye.
‘You like him?’ asked Philip curiously.
‘Yes,’ laughed Madeline. ‘He’s quite a character.’
‘He is,’ said Philip with a smile.
Madeline rose, and he stood up as she withdrew. The meal was over and she was following custom by leaving him to his port.
As she left the room, she almost fell over one of the footmen, who was on his knees outside the door. Now what on earth was he doing there?
‘Beg pardon, my lady,’ said the footman, scrambling to his feet.
‘That’s all right —?’
‘Danson, my lady,’ he said.
‘That’s all right, Danson.’ She frowned slightly, as she wondered where she had heard the name before. Of course. Danson was the footman who had been paying Jenny too much
attention. Still he seemed polite enough now. And yet . . . and yet there was something about him she did not like.
For one disturbing moment the thought passed through her mind that he had been looking through the keyhole. A moment later she dismissed the idea, as she saw that he was clutching a button in his hand, and a glance at his coat showed her that one of his buttons was indeed missing from the front of it.
She smiled at herself. What a nonsensical thought! She must not start imagining that everyone was watching her. The poor man had simply lost his button, and bent down to reclaim it!
Besides, Jenny had not spoken of any further trouble with Danson, and it was probably as the maid had said; Danson was bored in the country, and had asked Jenny too many questions because he needed to find what interest he could in the lives of his fellow servants, and perhaps in the lives of his master and mistress.
Making her way to the drawing-room, Madeline put the trivial incident out of her mind.
Philip, left alone, was thinking of Old Ned. The old man had been a part of the estate for as long as he could remember, and Philip had had many marks of kindness from him. He liked the old man. But Letitia did not feel the same. She had seen the old man once, before he had been bedridden, and had berated Philip for stopping to talk to him, saying, "That man’s nothing but a dirty, disgraceful churl." Whereas Madeline had seen Ned’s lively character and his sense of fun.
Philip was uncomfortably aware that he kept comparing Madeline to Letitia. And he was even more aware that he found Letitia wanting. He had been happy enough to think of her as his future countess a few weeks ago.
But that was before Madeline had entered his life.
Chapter Nine
After weeks of preparation, the day of the ball finally arrived.
Madeline was apprehensive as she checked her appearance in the cheval glass. So far, no one had doubted the nature of her marriage to Philip, but his friends and neighbours would all be at the ball and she knew that she would have to play her part to perfection if she was to convince them that she and Philip were really married in the truest sense of the word. Although she did not like the idea of deceiving anyone, circumstances had forced her into a sham of a marriage, and she meant to see it through.
If not for her apprehension she would have enjoyed the afternoon. She had been delightfully pampered. After bathing in scented water, Jenny had helped her to dress in her most beautiful ball gown. It was a shining example of the modiste’s art, and was a credit to Miss Silverstone. The gauze overskirt, which was as light as gossamer, split to reveal an underskirt of oyster pink, its satin gleaming in the evening sunlight. The delicate sleeves, short and becomingly puffed, were decorated with the lightest frostwork, and the same frostwork was repeated round the underskirt’s hem.
Her hair, too, was a miracle. Monsieur LeTour, the fashionable friseur, had travelled over from York specially to do her hair - Madeline had protested that Jenny dressed her hair beautifully, but Philip had insisted, and Jenny had been just as eager for the great man to do it, ‘For I’ll learn a thing or two, I’ve no doubt,’ she had said to Madeline.
Madeline’s fair hair had been piled on top of her head and then caught up with a silver comb. Glossy ringlets had been teased out to frame her face and to fall over one shoulder, and she knew she had never looked better.
Round her throat she wore a pearl necklace.
‘You look lovely, my lady,’ said Jenny mistily.
‘Wish me luck,’ said Madeline as she pulled on her long evening gloves and then, summoning her courage, she went out onto the landing.
Reaching the top of the stairs she saw Philip standing at the bottom of the stairs, looking magnificent. It was the first time she had ever seen him in full evening dress. He was wearing a dark blue tailcoat with a figured waistcoat and a pair of skin-tight pantaloons, which showed off his lean and rangy body to great advantage. Snowy linen could be seen at his neck and at his wrists. A diamond tie-pin caught a ray of evening sunshine and winked in his cravat.
At that moment he looked up and saw her.
His eyes flashed, and Madeline felt suddenly breathless.
Forcing herself to go forward she walked along the landing and began to descend the stairs. She felt Philip’s eyes on her with every step she took. She saw his gaze rove over her oyster pink gown and a moment later he was striding up the stairs to meet her, taking them two at a time. He met her on the half-landing, his eyes running over her beautifully-arranged hair, her sparkling eyes and her pink lips, and the intensity of his look made her heart begin to beat more quickly.
‘You look beautiful,’ he said. The huskiness of his voice told her that it was no empty compliment. ‘Come.’
He gave her his arm and together they went down the last few stairs.
To Madeline’s surprise he led her into his study.
‘Should we not be ready to greet our guests?’ she asked.
‘This will only take a moment,’ he said.
He took her over to the gilded looking-glass and turned her gently so that she was facing it. Then he started to undo the clasp on her pearls. In her surprise she put up a hand to stop him. But as her fingers touched his a bolt of electricity shot through her, and she dropped her hand as though scalded.
She saw his eyes flare. But then he continued to remove her pearls.
He lifted something from the table behind him; there was a flash of fire; and then he placed another necklace round her throat.
‘The Rochdale diamonds,’ he said.
Madeline gasped. The necklace was fabulous. ‘But I can’t . . . ’
‘Why not?’ he asked. ‘You are the Countess of Pemberton, Madeline. It’s only right you should wear the Rochdale diamonds. And for your ears,’ he said. He turned her round and he gave her the matching earrings, deftly helping her to arrange them.
He placed his hands on her shoulders and for a moment she thought he was going to kiss her on the lips. But then a carriage crunched on the gravel outside and he kissed her lightly on the forehead instead. Even that slight touch was enough to intensify all her confusing and perplexing feelings, and she was glad that the ball was upon them. At least in company there could be no more disturbingly intimate moments; moments she dare not admit were becoming increasingly precious to her. Because if she admitted it, what then? Philip was destined for Letitia, and she would do well not to forget it.
Jason Fellows was the first guest to arrive. He often made the trip to Yorkshire as his mother’s family was from that part of the country and his maternal grandparents still lived there.
‘My dear Philip!’ he said, warmly taking Philip by the hand. ‘And Lady Pemberton. You look exquisite.’ He made Madeline a low bow, and then dispensed with formality to say good-humouredly, ‘Don’t tell me I’m the first to arrive?’
‘Someone has to be,’ Madeline consoled him.
‘Very true. And perhaps it is just as well. I’ve a mind to find a wife and settle down myself, so I need to get an early start! You see what you have begun!’ he said to Philip with a laugh.
‘There will be plenty of young ladies here tonight - all willing to talk about music and art!’ Philip spoke gravely, but a quirk at the corner of his mouth gave him away.
‘I’m sure there will be,’ said Jason, knowing that Philip was deliberately reminding him of the conversation they had had about marriageable young ladies in London. ‘The only trouble is, I don’t know the first thing about music and art myself!’
Another party had by this time arrived and Jason moved through into the ballroom, leaving Madeline and Philip to greet their other guests. Lord and Lady Cadogan were followed by Mr and Mrs Frobisher, The Honourable Mrs Diddington and five of her daughters, all of whom were eager to meet the new Countess.
And then Philip’s cousin, Stuart Letts arrived.
‘Stuart. So glad you could join us,’ murmured Philip.
Madeline, standing next to him, realised that he was not pleased to see his cous
in, whatever his words. But she had no time to wonder about it, as Stuart moved on and more guests claimed her attention. Soon the house was ringing with the sound of music as the orchestra struck up the chords of the first dance.
‘Come,’ said Philip, taking Madeline’s arm. ‘The guests are all here. Now it is time for us to open the ball.’
Madeline had always loved to dance, but had had little opportunity to do so - until now.
She took her place at the top of the set, Philip facing her, and swept him an elegant curtsey. And then the dance began. Madeline could not remember ever having enjoyed herself so much. Her nerves completely vanished and she remembered all of the complicated steps; steps she had practised with her mother in snatched moments of happiness, when her father had been from home.
‘Oh! My dear Countess! Isn’t this wonderful?’ gasped Clarissa an hour later, when Philip and Madeline were mingling with their guests. ‘I’ve never enjoyed myself so much in my life. I do declare I’ve danced every dance! And Amelia is having a wonderful time as well. So good of you to invite her and Percival along this evening. They are having a marvellous time!’
‘It was a pleasure.’ Madeline glanced at the happy couple, who were dancing at the other side of the room.
They were interrupted by Jason. ‘Miss Rogers. May I have the honour of your hand for the next dance?’ he asked, coming up to the two ladies.
As soon as Clarissa had accepted Jason’s hand for the next dance, Madeline found her own hand being sought. ‘My dear Countess, may I have the honour of this dance?’
‘Mr Letts,’ said Madeline, turning to see Philip’s cousin.
‘Please. We are related now. Will you not call me Stuart?’
‘Stuart. I would be delighted.’
The ballroom was looking entrancing, Madeline noted, as Stuart led her out onto the floor in preparation for a cotillion. All the effort she and Mrs Potts had put in had been worth it. The chandeliers sparkled and shone, the mirrors gleamed, and the green-and-white chairs blended beautifully with the flowers that had been brought in from the gardens, and which now filled huge vases all around the house.
The Six Month Marriage Page 13