“Some men can manage both,” he riposted.
This proved to be an understatement. Lord Delaine wore black, as if in mourning, grabbed the seat next to Celina and made sheep’s eyes at her throughout the meal.
When the dancing began he would have led her onto the floor, had not Robin intimidated him with a furious glance. After that he consoled himself with brandy.
“May I hope for the first dance?” Robin murmured.
“Of course,” she said demurely. “Everyone is expecting it.”
A small burst of applause confirmed this, as he took her into his arms for the first waltz.
“And you are not going to dance with him tonight,” he growled.
“Don’t worry. He will be under the table in a few minutes!”
“So maybe you made the right choice in refusing him?”
“I am not sure. A husband who could be relied on to vanish under the table might be very convenient at times.”
She looked up into his face, teasing him with her smile.
“Perhaps I did make an unwise choice,” she mused.
He tightened his grip, drawing her close to him.
“You will drive me too far, madam.”
“But how far is too far?” she quizzed him.
“Knowing you, I am sure you are determined to find out.”
“But you don’t know me,” she whispered. “You never did.”
The truth of her statement left him bereft of speech for a moment.
If there was one thing that today had proved, it was that he did not know her.
“I am grateful to you,” he said unexpectedly. “You showed me much that I should have discovered for myself. I should never have stayed away so long.”
“Don’t upset yourself,” Celina said. “After all, you had every right to stay in France, if that is where you wanted to be.”
Robin nodded abstractedly. It was, of course, true that he had the right to please himself, and if his wife had said otherwise he would have declared firmly that she was wrong.
But, hearing her take his side, he felt a most irrational instinct to argue. He had failed, claiming the pleasures of his position but leaving the duties to others, and she ought to berate him for it like any other wife.
But she was not like any other wife. He was beginning to understand that fact.
“From now on, I will stay here to keep my eyes on the estate,” he said.
“But there is no need now that I have it all in hand,” she pointed out. “I have promised the tenants that I will be here for them and I will be keeping my word.”
“Does that mean you have decided to stay?” he asked. “It was only recently that you were threatening to end our marriage.”
She considered.
“But I cannot leave now,” she stated firmly. “I have given them my word and I must not let them down. Of course I shall stay.”
“Thank you for informing me,” he responded stiffly. “It is certainly a relief to know that my wife intends to remain under my roof, even if I am the last to know.”
“I am glad you are pleased. So now that everything is sorted out, you can return to France with an easy conscience.”
She was playing a subtle but dangerous game. The last thing she wanted was for Robin to return to France, but she knew that any hint of a desire to restrain him would be fatal.
But if he thought she was happy for him to go, that might – it just might – intrigue him enough to make him stay.
To her delight he sounded chagrined as he said, “Are you giving me your permission, madam?”
Robin spoke the words in his most frozen voice. It was a voice that had intimidated many people, but Celina seemed untroubled by it.
“Well, I am sure you have important business to attend to in Paris,” she said brightly.
Was there a hint of irony in her voice? he wondered.
Important business? Surely everyone knew why he went to Paris? But this was not the kind of subject a man could really discuss his wife.
He saw her watching him, her face bland and innocent.
Suspiciously innocent, he told himself.
His first thought was that she need not think she could influence him. His second was that she was really incredible. What other woman had ever challenged him in such a fashion?
His third thought was that she might actually be eager to see him go, so that she could have a free hand on the estate.
If that was what she imagined, she would be disappointed. He had just resolved to remain.
He was beginning to wonder if being married might be more interesting than he had expected.
After that conversation Celina danced with almost every man present, but not Lord Delaine, who had been carried away soon after the meal.
Robin performed his duty, leading onto the floor his hostess and various other ladies who would be insulted if he had ignored them. But wherever he was, whoever he was dancing with, he was always acutely aware of his wife in the arms of some other man.
Often he would try to glance at her quickly, without being too obvious about it, and he could not delude himself that she was suffering without him.
On the contrary, she seemed to be having a very good time, not only dancing but chattering with her partners. Sometimes she would burst out laughing.
Once he saw her sitting down, engaged in deep conversation with an elderly uncle of the family, one who was known to take a great interest in estate management.
For some reason this was even worse. Robin had an uneasy feeling that Celina was discussing strategy.
“What a delightful evening,” his mother said to him once. “Isn’t it wonderful to see our dear Celina such a success?”
“Wonderful,” her son agreed darkly.
The evening stretched on and on, for everyone wanted to talk to the marvellous new Countess. But at last all the goodbyes were said and they were free to enter their carriage and start the journey home.
As Robin had feared, Celina had been learning from the elderly uncle and was full of ideas. She leaned back against the squabs, smiling happily, making plans.
“Well done, my dear!” the Dowager said. “Your first big occasion and you did so well. I do hope you enjoyed the evening.”
“Tremendously!” Celina murmured. “I really enjoyed talking to Sir Watkins.”
“I do hope he didn’t bore you too much.”
“Not at all,” Celina replied. “He was most helpful.”
“I have dismissed Halyard, Mama,” Robin said. “He has been mistreating my tenants.”
“I heard that there was some commotion going on today,” she admitted. “But not the details.”
He began to explain it all to her.
Listening to their soft voices talking, Celina let herself sink into the mists of sleep that were enveloping her. It had been a long tiring day and now she felt that she was floating in another realm.
At last Robin and his mother fell silent, which was a relief to him because he wanted to reflect on what had happened today. And especially he wanted to reflect on the extraordinary woman who had become his wife, but whom, he now understood, was a total stranger to him.
That discovery came as a shock. He had thought he knew her well. She was pretty enough and charming, but not exceptional. Certainly she could not compare with the brilliant beauties with whom he had always entertained himself.
So he had thought – in his arrogance.
But today Celina had made him see her in a different light, first as a woman of character and authority, then as a beauty, able to hold her own in company and win the admiration of the County.
He had always said that one of the great delights of life was to meet a totally new woman.
But when that totally new woman turned out to be his wife, the pleasure of anticipation was almost unbearably poignant.
Of course, they were only at the beginning. They had a long road to travel yet. But now he was intrigued by that road, where he had o
nly been exasperated earlier.
When he thought of how enchanting she had looked tonight, he felt a stirring deep within himself. She was his wife and he could no longer wait to make love to her. He wondered if she too felt any different towards him.
If he met her eyes now, what would he find in them? Tonight – would there be an invitation? He felt his heart begin to beat faster as he turned his head towards her.
She was fast asleep.
Dumbfounded, Robin stared into her face, but there was no escaping the fact that Celina’s response to an evening of triumphant success was to become dead to the world.
Or was she trying to tell him something?
A few minutes later the carriage pulled up. The door opened and arms reached inside to assist the Dowager to descend.
Robin, who had continued to watch Celina intently, touched her arm. She smiled and gave a little sigh, but did not open her eyes.
Driven by something he only half understood, he leaned forward and laid his lips on hers. At once he felt her sway towards him, so that her head rested on his shoulder.
The next moment he had enfolded her in a passionate embrace.
She was pure sweetness in his arms, her lips moving softly on his, her body relaxed and yielding against him. Other women had teased and tormented him, deliberately inflaming his desire for their own ends.
She was different. There was nothing calculated about her, he realised. Everything was spontaneous, generous and heartfelt, and she was causing a flowering in his heart that he had never thought possible.
How could there be such joy?
With her. Only with her.
But, to his horror, he became aware of sounds behind him and he returned to the real world to realise that he was passionately embracing his wife, to the amusement of his servants.
“Her Ladyship was asleep,” he stammered. “I was waking her.”
Celina opened her eyes, smiling sleepily.
“We are home,” he said. “Let me help you out.”
She put her hand in his, allowed him to help her down and clinging to his arm walked with him into the castle.
“Goodnight, my dears,” the Dowager called.
She was already climbing the stairs.
They followed slowly, heading for Celina’s room. There was still a soft smile on her face and her husband wondered just how much she remembered. Had she even been aware that he had kissed her?
Never mind. He would make her aware of it.
Nora was waiting inside the great bedroom, but Robin dismissed her with a nod, drawing his wife’s cloak from her shoulders with his own hands.
Celina sighed.
“If only – I could remember – ”
“Remember what?” he asked eagerly.
“This evening – something – on the way home – ”
“Yes – yes – ?”
“It came to me – and then it slipped away – if only I could remember – ”
“Try,” he urged.
He ventured to lay his hands on her shoulders, striving for her to meet his eyes so that they could exchange glances when she remembered. He began drawing her towards him –
“Ah!” she said. “That’s it?”
“You know what it is?”
“Yes, it was when you were telling your mother about Mr. Halyard when the answer suddenly came to me. You will need a new Steward and I know the perfect one.”
He grew still.
“What?” he asked in a hollow voice.
“Mr. Bramley. He is now Uncle James’s Steward, but he is always complaining that he does not have enough to do, with the estate being so small. He is efficient and honest and I am sure Uncle James will understand us taking him away.”
“I am quite sure that he will,” the Earl said, dropping his hands. “You will explain the matter to him and he will hurry to obey you, the way everyone has done.”
“Of course, you will have to meet him – ”
“A mere formality, I assure you.”
“But truly, it’s a wonderful idea. He is just what we want.”
For a wild moment Robin contemplated telling her exactly what he wanted – and how far away Mr. Bramley was from being about to provide it.
But the impulse died and a feeling of defeat came over him.
“Of course,” he said in a dead voice, “it is an excellent notion and I know that I can leave everything to you. Why don’t you write to him immediately?”
“What a good idea! Oh, you are so clever! I will do it now.”
Robin drew himself up, stiff with affronted dignity.
“In that case, madam, I shall bid you goodnight and trouble you no further.”
His head high, he left the room through the connecting door, taking care to lock it behind him.
*
By dawn’s early light Celina awoke and lay thinking about the night before.
There was one vision that troubled her – herself in the carriage, feeling her husband draw her into his arms to kiss her – the sensation of his lips on hers –
And then the vision had vanished and she was back in the coach, letting him hand her down.
Had it happened? Or had it all been a dream?
She had meant to find the answer when they were alone together in her room. Surely she could tempt him to kiss her again?
If he had really kissed her the first time.
But if he had not –
Could she take the risk?
At the last moment her nerve had failed her and she had resorted to a stratagem. All the time she had spoken about the new Steward, she had been hoping Robin would lose patience and seize her in his arms.
Instead he had accepted her decision in a most uninspiring way.
Now she was desolate. He did not want her after all.
But there were those who did, she reminded herself. She had promised to stay for their sake and there was work to be done.
As soon as she entered the breakfast room, she saw Robin sitting at the table. He gave her a polite smile.
“Did you send the note to Mr. Bramley?” he enquired.
“I have just given it to a footman.”
“Good. Then things will move. When you have settled the matter with him, bring him to me. In the meantime I shall be making financial arrangements for that little medical practice you have set up.”
“I do have some money of my own. I was thinking that I could – ”
“That would be quite inappropriate. This is for me to pay for. I beg you not to insult me by suggesting otherwise.”
That silenced her.
After their conversation, events moved smoothly.
Mr. Bramley came with all speed and professed himself delighted with his new post. Uncle James had taken the opportunity to come too and was all compliance.
“I was bound to lose him sooner or later,” he confided to Celina. “My estate is not big enough to occupy his considerable talents. But this will keep him in the neighbourhood and he can still come and play chess with me sometimes.”
He accompanied Mr. Bramley to Robin’s office and the three men drank a toast to the new order. Celina left them to it, recognising that it was wiser to involve Robin in her new arrangements. For the sake of the tenants she needed him on her side.
Feeling suddenly alone she wandered into the library, where there would be some newspapers to read.
She flicked through the day’s delivery and then, to her surprise, discovered that some were in French. The most recent newspaper was dated only a week ago, which suggested that Robin was having them sent over from France.
Why? Could it be that his heart was still in France. Was there a woman there who still wrote to him?
She tried to believe that she was making too much of a few newspapers, but she could not stop herself opening them feverishly and scanning the print for anything that might be relevant to her husband.
And there was his name.
She stared, certain that she must have
been mistaken.
But there was no mistake. The story concerned Lord Torrington, an English ‘milord’ who was a frequent visitor to the city of Paris, where he was known as a lavish spender of money and a lover of many beautiful women.
Celina gave a soft little sigh.
The story mentioned a man called Pierre Vallon, who had been sent to prison two years ago for stealing fabulous jewellery from the dancer Marie Lemans.
Lord Torrington, known to be one of her admirers, had played a part in Vallon’s capture and testified against him in court, as a result of which he had been given a long prison sentence.
As he was dragged away from the court he had screamed, “I’ll come back. I’ll get my revenge and it will break your heart.”
“Nonsense, he has no heart,” somebody had quipped.
Everyone had laughed at this and the ‘milord’ had laughed more heartily than anyone.
Now, it seemed, Vallon had escaped from jail and vanished.
There was a small drawing of him, showing him to have a shaven head and a heavy moustache. The artist was sufficiently skilled to catch a vicious gleam in his eye. This would be a terrible man to have as an enemy, Celina realised.
She drew in a sharp breath, her heart beating with fear.
The next moment she heard a sound outside the door and hurried tucked the newspaper away, beneath the others.
Robin looked in, smiling.
“We have guests for lunch,” he said. “I know you will be glad that your uncle and Mr. Bramley are staying.”
“Yes – yes, of course.”
“Good Heavens, what is the matter with you?” he asked, looking at her in concern.
“Nothing – nothing.”
“This is your moment of triumph. You have everyone doing your bidding, including me.”
“Nonsense! As though I cared – ”
She longed to tell him that nothing mattered except his safety, but she could not utter the words.
How could she tell him that she loved him and her heart was breaking at the thought of the secret life he concealed from her?
His life was in danger, but he would not tell her. She might lose him at any moment.
“Let’s go to lunch,” he said.
The rest of the day was devoted to business and, from that point of view, was extremely satisfactory.
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