‘Lord Falconmore.’
The butler’s announcement caused a shocked silence to descend over the scene. It would have been easy, Cassius thought, to hear a pin drop. Except that he didn’t have a pin and neither did anyone else apparently. The hush was almost deafening.
‘Good afternoon, ladies.’ He made a low bow, his eyes searching the room for Millie. ‘I hope you don’t mind my intrusion?’
‘Of course not.’ Alexandra was the first to recover her wits, springing to her feet as if she’d just sat on something hot. ‘Do come in and join us. I’m sure Mrs Cooper will gladly move so that you can sit next to Lady Falconmore.’
‘Thank you.’ He looked quickly in the direction indicated, his heart skipping a beat and then performing some kind of disorientating somersault in his chest as his eyes connected with Millie’s. She was gazing at him with an expression of unconcealed amazement.
‘Millie.’ He found himself standing in front of her before he’d even made a conscious decision to start walking.
‘Cassius.’ Her voice was as amazed as her expression. ‘I didn’t expect you to join us.’
‘I didn’t intend to, but I enjoyed myself so much making calls with you around the estate the other day that I thought it might be fun to do it again.’ He lifted an eyebrow. ‘If that’s acceptable to you, that is?’
‘Oh.’ Her eyes flashed with understanding and humour. ‘Well, then...’ She patted the recently vacated space on the sofa beside her. ‘You’d better sit down, darling.’
‘Thank you...’ he gave a quick wink ‘...honeycomb.’
‘Lord Falconmore, it’s been so long since I’ve had the pleasure.’ Lady Fentree leaned so far forward in her chair opposite that he had a momentary fear she was about to fall out of it. Which was especially alarming since that would force him to catch her. ‘You’ve been quite a stranger this past year.’
‘Indeed.’ His fingers touched lightly against Millie’s on the sofa, sending a thrill shooting up his arm. ‘I’m afraid that the estate has kept me quite busy.’
‘Of course. There must have been a great deal to attend to after your cousin’s death, but I hope your presence here today signals a change?’
‘Ah.’ He smiled as Millie’s fingers closed around his. ‘As to that, what can I say except that I missed my wife? I find even an hour without her company far too long to bear.’
‘An hour?’ Lady Fentree looked taken aback.
‘I missed you, too, darling.’ Millie turned her face towards him, her green eyes glowing with a look of such genuine-looking tenderness that he felt the breath stall in his throat.
‘You did?’ He coughed the words out, actively trying to remember how to breathe. It seemed impossible that five words and one pair of eyes could have such an extraordinary effect, especially when they were play-acting, and yet he was feeling decidedly light-headed.
‘Well,’ Lady Alexandra interrupted, ‘I suppose we have to make allowances for newlyweds. Would anyone care for another cup of tea? Lord Falconmore, can I tempt you?’
‘Thank you.’ He finally succeeded in regaining some control over his senses, dragging his gaze away from Millie’s with an effort. After all, he had a job to do, he reminded himself. He was there to put a stop to any gossip once and for all and he was going to do it properly. Thoroughly. With his wife beside him and her hand entwined in his as if they belonged together. By the time he was done, not one single person in the room would suspect their marriage to be anything other than a love match. Even if it wasn’t and could never be, no matter how much he was starting to wish otherwise. Not unless his heart managed to open itself to the possibility of loving someone again. Which was surely impossible, wasn’t it?
* * *
Cassius waited until the front door closed behind them before heaving a sigh of satisfaction.
‘Well, I think we can call that a succ—’ He didn’t get any further as Millie flung her arms around his neck, embracing him fervently.
‘You didn’t mind my intrusion, then?’ he asked in surprise, dodging his head to one side as the rim of her bonnet threatened to poke him in the eye.
‘Not at all.’ She pulled back slightly to beam at him. ‘Your timing was perfect and you were wonderful. Although I don’t know how you managed to keep a straight face.’
‘At which part?’ He knitted his brows. He didn’t remember having said anything particularly comical.
‘When you described our first meeting for a start. You called me a vision of loveliness.’
‘You were.’
‘My nose was bright red and I was dripping wet!’
‘But still lovely.’ He felt unjustly accused. ‘I remember the moment I opened the door quite clearly. I thought you were the prettiest snowman I’d ever seen.’
‘Then you said you’ve always had a weakness for red-haired women.’
‘True again.’
‘Really?’
‘Really.’ He threaded an arm around her waist. ‘Although in the interests of marital harmony, I refuse to provide further details. What a man gets up to in his misspent youth isn’t something he generally admits to his wife.’
‘Oh.’ Her eyes widened. ‘Well then, what about the part when you said you’d spent your whole life waiting for a woman like me?’
‘Did I say that?’ He stalled, momentarily stumped for an answer. He could hardly blame brandy for his eloquence this time. The words had simply come naturally. Sincerely, too. ‘Well, maybe not my whole life. I was far more interested in cricket when I was a boy.’ He gave a small shrug. ‘Perhaps I deserve a kiss for my gallantry, too?’
‘Later.’ She threw a glance at the drawing room window. ‘Right now we’re making a public spectacle of ourselves again.’
‘All the better.’ He caught at her hand, holding her back as she made to descend the steps. ‘And no pecks on the cheek. Let’s do it properly.’
‘Cassius...’ She started to speak and then stopped as his mouth touched against hers, her breath catching and then releasing on a moan that made all his limbs feel heavy and his blood surge with desire.
‘There.’ He wrapped his arms around the base of her spine, holding her tightly against him. ‘If that doesn’t convince people I’m in love with you, nothing will.’
And there was no play-acting about it.
Chapter Eighteen
Perfect. Millie added one last sprig of holly to a vase and looked around the supper room with a combined sense of satisfaction and pleasure. It was ready. The tables and chairs were all informally set out, a line of sofas had been placed along one wall for those who found the ballroom too hot or crowded, and there was a piano in one corner for singing Christmas carols. That was another important task out of the way. Now she just had a dress to take care of.
‘Cassius!’ she called out as she caught a glimpse of him in the corridor.
‘Millie?’ He swung around and came back towards her at once. ‘I was heading to the ballroom to find you.’
‘I’m just finishing up here.’
‘What is all this?’ He looked confused by the sight of so many tables.
‘This is the fourth—or is it fifth?—drawing room, now the supper room.’ She lifted an eyebrow. ‘Or did you expect us to eat in the ballroom?’
‘To be honest, I never thought of it.’ He threw her an apologetic look. ‘I’m afraid that when I asked you to help arrange a ball, I underestimated the amount of work involved.’
‘Yes, you did. As if marrying you wasn’t enough.’ She gave him a teasing look, though he didn’t seem amused.
‘This really hasn’t been much of a holiday for you, has it?’ He wrapped his arms around her. ‘You know you don’t have to work so hard.’
‘I know, but I want everything to be perfect.’
‘Are you sure? Because there are plenty of people
already seeing to that. The whole house is buzzing with activity. I don’t want you working just because you think you ought to.’
‘I’m not. I’m enjoying myself.’
‘Good.’ He sounded appeased. ‘Because this is still our honeymoon, remember? You’re allowed to relax and sit down for an afternoon at least.’
‘Everything’s about ready in here anyway.’ She laid her head against his shoulder with a sigh of contentment. The supper room was finished, the ballroom was almost finished, the last of the invitations had been accepted, and she was clasped tight in her husband’s warm and comfortable arms. She felt really and truly happy. Which for some reason provoked a new sense of disquiet. How could she of all people be happy as a marchioness?
‘Begging your pardon, my lord, my lady?’ A maid’s voice interrupted them. ‘But there’s a visitor to see you, Lady Falconmore.’
‘To see me?’ Millie lifted her head in surprise. Judging by the maid’s expression it obviously wasn’t her mother or Alexandra.
‘It’s a gentleman from London, my lady. He says his name is Mr Griffiths.’
‘Gilbert?’ She caught her breath at the same moment as she felt Cassius’s hand tighten around her waist. ‘Here?’
The maid nodded anxiously. ‘Mr Kendrew was downstairs so I showed the gentleman into the drawing room. I hope I did the right thing?’
‘Yes, you did, thank you... Catherine, isn’t it? Please tell him I’ll be there shortly.’ She looked back at Cassius with consternation. ‘This is awful. I was supposed to be considering Gilbert’s proposal, not marrying someone else in the meantime! What on earth can he be doing here?’
‘Did you write to tell him about our marriage?’
‘No. I thought it would be better to tell him in person after Christmas. I never imagined he’d find out on his own.’
‘Well, if he’s here then someone must have told him.’ Cassius looked stern. ‘Do you want me to speak to him?’
‘No.’ She shook her head quickly. ‘I owe him an explanation. It might be better if I do it on my own.’
‘I helped yesterday.’
‘You did and I’m grateful, but yesterday was different. Gilbert’s a friend.’
‘As you wish.’ He looked decidedly unhappy with her answer. She had the distinct impression that he didn’t want to let go of her waist either, though he finally did. ‘In that case, I’ll be in the library if you need me.’
‘Thank you.’ She made her way quickly through the house, past footmen carrying chairs and housemaids draping tinsel over every available surface. Now that she knew Gilbert was there she wanted to see him as soon as possible to explain her behaviour, although how she was going to do that was another matter... If only she’d sent him a letter, after all!
‘Gilbert?’ She didn’t hesitate on the threshold of the drawing room, hurrying across to where he was standing by the fireplace.
‘Amelia.’ He looked up at the sound of her voice, his expression doleful. ‘You’re here then?’
‘Yes.’ She didn’t know what else to say, struck with an acute pang of guilt. He looked exactly the way she remembered him, tall and austerely handsome, dressed in muted colours with his black hair cut just a little too neatly.
‘So you really are married? I told myself I wouldn’t believe it until I saw you with my own eyes.’
‘I am, but it’s not what you think. That is, it is what you think, but I was going to tell you, Gilbert, I promise. Only I wanted to tell you in person, not by letter. I thought it would be better that way, but...’ She raised her hands to her cheeks. ‘How did you find out?’
‘The Vicar of Rayleigh is a friend of my father’s. He heard you lived in the same area of London as us and mentioned your wedding in his Christmas missive. He wondered if we were acquainted. Needless to say we were shocked.’
‘Yes. Of course.’
‘Naturally I thought there must have been some kind of mistake so I came here to discover the truth.’ His gaze settled sombrely upon hers. ‘But here you are.’
‘Oh, Gilbert.’ She felt tears prick the backs of her eyes. ‘I’m so sorry. If I’d thought for one second you might find out by accident...’
‘I know.’ He lifted a hand to forestall her. ‘I know you, Amelia. I wish I hadn’t found out like that, but I know you would never hurt me deliberately. I know you’re not the kind of woman to be swayed by titles or fortune either, so I came to ask why. Why did you marry him? And why so quickly? I thought you were considering my offer?’
‘I was! I swear I was. Only I made a foolish decision to walk home in the snow by myself one night and got myself into a compromising situation and...well, then we had to get married.’
‘Had to?’ He frowned. ‘So it wasn’t by choice?’
‘Ye—es. Or at least I decided that it would be for the best. There was so much gossip, it wouldn’t have been fair to accept your proposal afterwards.’
‘I still wish that you’d come to me.’ He sounded reproachful. ‘I hate to think of you being forced into anything.’
‘But it all worked out for the best.’ She smiled. ‘I’m happy, truly I am, Gilbert. It was a strange beginning, but it turns out that Cassius and I are well suited, after all.’
‘Do you care for him?’
‘Yes.’ She didn’t baulk at the question. The answer was so blindingly obvious, even if after only a week it seemed incredible. She did care for him. More than that, she loved him, but Gilbert wasn’t the man she wanted to tell first. ‘Very much.’
‘Well then.’ His scowl slid gradually into a smile. ‘In that case, I wish you joy.’
‘Really? Do you forgive me?’
‘I do.’ His expression turned sheepish. ‘While we were apart I started to wonder about some of the things you said when I proposed.’
‘What did I say?’
‘That we weren’t in love.’ He reached for her hands and squeezed them. ‘I believe at the time I told you an emotional attachment didn’t matter, but now I think perhaps I was mistaken. Not that I would have withdrawn my offer, but perhaps you were right.’
‘There’s no perhaps about it. Now you’re free to find a wife you really care about.’ She hugged him impulsively. ‘You’re a good man, Gilbert. You deserve to be truly happy.’
‘Thank you.’ He wrapped his arms lightly around her, as if he were embarrassed. ‘I hope we can always remain friends, although I suppose I’ll have to call you Lady Falconmore from now on.’
‘Don’t be silly. And we’ll still see each other often, I hope.’
‘I hope so, too, but... Amelia?’ He dropped his hands abruptly.
‘Yes?’
‘Perhaps, in the meantime, you’ll be so good as to introduce your husband?’
‘Of course. He’s in his library, but I’ll go and fetch him.’
‘Actually I believe he’s somewhat closer than that.’
‘What?’ She pulled her hands away from his shoulders, turning around to find Cassius standing right behind her, arms folded and looking distinctly unhappy. ‘Oh! I didn’t hear you come in.’
‘Evidently.’
‘Cassius...’ she blinked at his harsh tone ‘...this is my dear friend, Mr Gilbert Griffiths. Gilbert, this is my husband, Lord Falconmore.’
‘Mr Griffiths.’ Cassius held a hand out. ‘An honour to meet you.’
‘Lord Falconmore. The honour is all mine.’
Millie shifted from one foot to the other, looking between the two men as they exchanged pleasantries. If pleasantries was the right word for it, which she rather thought it wasn’t. Instead, they seemed to be sizing each other up, both their stances rigid with tension.
‘I’ve just been explaining to Gilbert what happened.’ She hoped that her voice didn’t sound as flustered to them as it did to her. ‘About our marriage and why we had
to go through with it.’
‘Quite.’ Cassius’s voice had a distinct and somewhat discomforting edge.
‘But it’s all right. Gilbert understands and he’s forgiven me so there’s no need to worry, after all. Isn’t that wonderful?’ She was aware that she was floundering. ‘Shall I call for some tea?’
‘Thank you, but I ought to be going.’ Gilbert took a step towards the door. ‘It’s been a long day and you seem to be very busy here.’
‘Oh...yes.’ There was a load thud from the hallway as if to emphasise the point. ‘You’ll have to forgive all the commotion. We’re holding a ball soon.’
‘A ball?’ He lifted an eyebrow.
‘Yes. It’s for everyone on the estate. You should come!’ she said before she could think better of it, feeling somewhat relieved when he shook his head.
‘Thank you, but I should be getting back to London.’
‘Surely you’re not travelling home tonight?’
‘No. I’ve taken a room at the inn in Rayleigh and the Malverlys have been kind enough to invite me for dinner this evening. Naturally I called at their house first to pay my respects to your mother and...well, to discover whether I’d been misinformed.’
‘Oh.’ She darted a quick glance at Cassius, though both his stance and stare were unrelenting. ‘In that case, thank you for coming and letting me explain. I hope that we’ll meet again soon.’
‘Indeed.’ He made a formal bow. ‘Lord Falconmore.’
‘Mr Griffiths.’ Cassius bowed in return, his manner relaxing slightly. ‘Have a safe journey.’
‘Thank you.’ Gilbert gave her one last smile. ‘Goodbye, Amelia. It’s been good to see you.’
‘Goodbye...’ Millie waited until the door had closed fully behind him before turning towards her now thunderous-looking husband. ‘Well, thank goodness for that. He seems to be...’
‘“Why we had to go through with it”?’ Cassius’s voice was like cut glass, sharp and brittle.
‘What?’
‘That was what you said, wasn’t it? “Why we had to go through with it.”’
Miss Amelia's Mistletoe Marquess Page 17