by Sandra Heath
Harry stood by the sun-filled window tapping a folded newspaper against his thigh. She spoke to him, a lighthearted remark of no consequence, but he didn’t bother to respond. Until that moment she’d been intent upon laughing him out of his sullen preoccupation, but now her smile died away. Why was he like this? What was wrong?
She went to him, slipping her arms around his waist from behind and resting her head against his shoulder. “Everything’s all right, isn’t it, Harry?”
“Why shouldn’t it be?”
“I don’t know, but you’ve hardly been good company since we arrived. No, it started before we left, for you were a sulky bear when we dined with Elizabeth.”
“Was I? I couldn’t say.”
“Elizabeth noticed as well.”
He didn’t reply.
Perplexed, she took her arms away. “Please tell me what’s wrong, Harry, for I can’t stand things to be like this.”
He turned. “Nothing’s wrong.”
“Then why are you so surly and bad-tempered all the time?” An alarming thought struck her. “Are you ill? Is that it? Because if you are, I wish you’d tell me!”
Remorse touched him for a moment and he put his hand swiftly to her cheek. “No, I’m not ill.”
Her fingers closed anxiously over his. “This isn’t fair, Harry. I’m your wife, and—”
“And nothing, sweetheart,” he murmured, giving her an almost absentminded kiss on the cheek before moving away from the window to toss the newspaper on to the writing desk. He smiled then. “I’m sorry, Camilla, I don’t mean to be a bear, it’s just that I really didn’t want to leave London this time.”
“What is so interesting about London at the moment?”
“Oh, nothing particularly, I just had a hankering to stay in town, that’s all.”
“A hankering? Forgive me, Harry, but your bad mood would suggest a little more than that.”
“That’s all it is,” he insisted.
“We can go back if you like,” she offered.
He shook his head. “There’s no need. We planned a long stay, and that’s what we’ll have.”
“But—”
“We also have Dominic to consider, after all we did invite him,” he reminded her.
“Dominic? But he won’t care a fig if we change our plans. You know how easygoing he is about such things.”
Harry studied her for a moment. “Do you find him attractive?” he asked suddenly.
Her heart stopped. “Attractive?” she repeated slowly, praying there was no shadow of guilt in her eyes. Had he guessed how much she’d always been drawn to Dominic?
“I’m told the fair sex find him irresistible.”
“I’m sure some of them do. Why do you ask?” Were her cheeks red? Please, don’t let them be.
“Because I think he admires you.”
She gave a weak smile. “I—I’m flattered you think so, but I doubt it. To him I’m simply your wife.” May I be forgiven such an untruth. Contrition cut through her, as if she’d done so very much more than silently yearn to be in Dominic’s arms.
Harry reached out to take her hand then, pulling her swiftly toward him and putting his hand over her left breast. He caressed her through her gown, taking her nipple between his fingers and stroking it. She closed her eyes with pleasure, for he hadn’t made love to her for days now, and she needed him. She also needed the reassurance that he still loved her ...
Touching her excited him and he pressed her against his arousal, moving his hips slowly to heighten his pleasure. His eyes were dark, and a faint smile played on his lips. “No man can remain immune to you, my darling, and if Dominic held you like this now, I daresay he’d spread you over that writing desk.”
“I want you, not Dominic,” she whispered, trying to push all thought of Dominic from her mind. But she couldn’t. It was wrong, but she wanted to be sexually intimate like this with Dominic ...
Harry gave a low laugh. “But you’ve already had me, my darling. Don’t you want to sample someone else?”
Her excitement subsided swiftly and she pulled back. “Don’t say things like that, Harry.”
“Why not? I find it erotic to think of you with someone else, very erotic indeed,” he murmured, drawing her close again and lowering his lips to hers.
At first it was a gentle kiss, teasing her back into response, but then it became rough. His mouth was harsh upon hers, and desire seemed to take him over so he didn’t care how she felt. The hard shaft at his loins pushed forcefully against her, and his fingers tightened painfully over her breast.
Her breath caught and she tried to pull away, but he was too strong. She was frightened, for she’d never known him to be like this before. He began to maneuver her toward the desk. He was going to take her right here and now, when Dominic might come in at any moment! No, not that! Her struggles increased and at last she dragged herself free.
“Don’t! You’re hurting me!” she cried.
For a moment he seemed confused, as if her cry had awakened him. He ran his fingers nervously through his hair, and then he gave a rueful smile. “Forgive me ...”
“I’m your wife, not some whore you’ve paid for a few minutes’ carnal gratification!”
“I’ve said I’m sorry.”
“Yes, and I trust you mean it. I don’t know what’s wrong with you at the moment, but I feel there’s far more to your reluctance to leave London than you’ve admitted.”
“There’s nothing,” he replied shortly, turning away again.
Before she could say anything else, the doors where flung open and Dominic came in. The atmosphere in the room must have been palpably strained, for the greeting died on his lips.
He glanced at Harry’s back, and then looked at her. He smiled concernedly, and it was a smile that breached her damaged defenses. In this of all moments she was susceptible to his silent caring. She was vulnerable and neglected, and the fierce attraction she’d always felt toward him now surged to the fore.
But suddenly the sunshine of that day dimmed into candlelight again as Dominic’s present-day footsteps approached the drawing room. She gave a start and turned toward the sound, for time might almost have overlapped. The doors were flung open and she couldn’t help giving a small cry as he came in.
But there was no smile of gentle concern on his face now, instead he paused and looked curiously at her. “Are you all right?” he asked.
She stared at him, and then collected her wits. “I, er, didn’t hear you coming, that’s all.”
“Perhaps I should sing a hymn next time,” he said dryly, closing the doors.
She faced him. “It would seem the billiard table didn’t hold much interest,” she said.
“The czar’s ward couldn’t have cared less about billiards, she merely wished to be in the conservatory to see Mary return from the village.” He explained what Thomas had told him.
Camilla was dismayed. “I wish I could think the note wasn’t from William.”
“So do I.”
“Have you spoken to Sophie yet?”
“Not on this matter.”
“But surely it would be better to confront her?”
“I’ve already said I want to catch them actually meeting.”
“And if you don’t catch them? Sophie’s in our custody, we’re responsible for looking after her, and that means seeing she’s properly protected.”
“I’m fully aware of that, which is why I’ve had second thoughts about the maid. I now think it will be better if she becomes our informant. I want you to tell her you expect to be told everything about Sophie’s activities. It’s time Mary was reminded where her true loyalties should lie.”
Camilla nodded and looked away. “Very well.”
“See you do it before we go out tomorrow.”
“Go out?”
“Sophie wishes to go for a ride on her own in the park in the morning, and since she announced this desire after receiving the note, I think we can draw an o
bvious conclusion. You and I will be able to trail her, and so I took the liberty of saying I was sure you’d permit her to ride if she wished.”
“It seems I have little choice.”
“You have every choice, madam, for you can stay here and do your needlework if you so desire,” he murmured.
The gulf between them was suddenly a chasm, and she couldn’t help glancing at Harry’s portrait
Dominic noticed. “Remorse, remorse, and yet again remorse,” he said coolly.
“I see it amuses you to taunt me.”
“Amuses me? I don’t find anything amusing in this. When will you stop pretending, Camilla? You can’t forgive yourself for once toying with the notion of committing adultery. That’s all there is to it!”
She recoiled furiously. “How dare you? I would never have committed adultery, least of all with you!”
“Now you’re being childish,” he replied acidly. “You and I both know how it was, and although you may not have slipped finally beyond redemption at the time, you came damned close. You were tempted and now must forever punish yourself in order to placate your damned conscience.”
“I don’t have to listen to this ...” Snatching her skirts, she made to leave the room, but he barred her way.
“I’m tired of your self-inflicted guilt, madam, for it looms over reality like some great mythical monster. You and I did nothing, except steal a few kisses, but you behave as if we conducted a passionate and abandoned liaison that broke every marriage vow you uttered! Well, since you’re eaten up inside over nothing, perhaps it’s time to give your guilt something to feed on!”
“What do you mean?”
His eyes were piercing. “This is what I mean, madam,” he said softly, and before she knew it he’d taken her into his arms. He allowed her no quarter as he kissed her. She struggled, but he held her too tightly, and she couldn’t break free as she had from Harry because Dominic was in complete command of his senses. Resistance was futile, she could only submit.
Loathing seized her at first, but was soon followed by confusion. The blood began to flow more swiftly through her veins and her skin became warm and flushed as her flesh betrayed her. Her body yielded and she surrendered to the kiss, her lips parting to admit his tongue.
Her dreams at the inn had told the truth. Nothing would ever change for her. The desire kindled in the earliest days still burned through her like a flame. She would live with her wanton shame, but, oh, God, how she hated him! How she hated herself!
Suddenly he thrust her away with a scornful smile.
“What price your conscience now, my lady?” he breathed.
Bitter tears stung her eyes as she struck him with all her might. The blow left an angry mark on his cheek, but still he smiled. “My, my, how desperately you try to pretend, but it doesn’t wash with me, Camilla. You’ve always wanted me as much as I wanted you, and in spite of everything, you still feel the same.”
“No!”
“Yes.” Suddenly he took her by the shoulders and turned her to face Harry’s portrait. “Do you hear the faint sound of laughter, my lady? I can, for I know how amused Harry would be if he knew how interminably foolish you are.” He thrust her away and strode from the room.
A sob caught in her throat and she hid her face in her hands. She could still feel his lips over hers, and the beguiling warmth of unwilling desire. But as she tried to muster her hatred, it seemed she could indeed hear laughter. Harry’s laughter.
Chapter 13
Camilla interrogated her maid first thing the following morning.
“Good morning, Mary,” she said, sitting up in bed and pushing her untidy hair from her face.
“Good morning, my lady,” Mary replied as she drew back the dusky blue velvet curtains so the morning sunlight flooded into the room.
Camilla got up to sit by the fire, where the warmth drew out the lingering fragrance of long-gone incense from the two burners on the hearth. She glanced at the maid. “Have you attended Mam’selle yet, Mary?”
“Yes, my lady.”
“I trust she’s looking forward to riding on such a beautiful morning?”
“Yes, my lady,” Mary said as she brought the customary cup of tea.
Camilla looked up into her eyes. “You’ve been betraying my trust, haven’t you, Mary?” she said quietly.
The maid’s breath caught. “Oh, no, my lady! I wouldn’t do anything to—”
“But you have, Mary, you’ve been assisting Mam’selle in her liaison with Lord de Marne. Well? It’s true, isn’t it?”
“I...” Mary bit her lip. “Yes, my lady, but I’ve only carried messages.”
“Did you know Mam’selle is to be betrothed to someone other than Lord de Marne?”
Mary’s eyes widened with dismay. “No, my lady, she just said she was being cruelly parted from the gentleman she loved with all her heart. She told me Lord de Marne was all that was suitable, but that Lady Cayne disapproved so much she’d beaten her.”
Camilla stared and then gave an incredulous laugh. “She said what? That Lady Cayne beat her?”
“Yes, my lady.”
“Mam’selle has lied to you in order to gain your help, Mary,” Camilla said, thinking privately that if there was one thing Sophie Arenburg did deserve it was a sound beating.
Tears filled Mary’s eyes. “I—I’m very sorry, my lady.”
“So you should be.”
“What will you do, my lady? Am I to be dismissed?”
“It would be no more than you deserve.”
A sob choked Mary’s voice. “I—I was sorry for her, my lady. I really believed she’d been beaten at Ennismount House, and I wanted to help her. I didn’t think I was being disloyal to you.”
“I’ll consider keeping you on provided you tell me everything you know. What happened before we left London?”
“Lord de Marne didn’t go to Scotland, he tried to see Mam’selle the first night she came to you. He nearly got caught.”
Camilla’s lips parted. “Are you saying Lord de Marne was the burglar?”
“Yes, my lady, then he came back to Cavendish Square the next morning, when it was foggy. I was just taking him a note from Mam’selle when you came into the room.”
Camilla thought back. Sophie had been standing by the window, and said the maid had gone for tea, but Mary came back without any. “Go on, Mary.”
“The note asked Lord de Marne to come to the kitchen door that night, when everyone had gone to bed. Mam’selle hoped by then she’d know if she could come here with you, and which way we’d travel. She wanted to see him during the journey, when we stopped at the Cross Keys.”
How right Dominic had been. Camilla drew a slow breath. “Lord de Marne was in the kitchens when I went down, wasn’t he?”
Mary nodded, “Yes, my lady. He and Mam’selle were drinking chocolate when we heard you calling. He left very quickly, and all the night air came in when the door jammed open for a few moments. That’s why it felt so cold.”
“So they arranged to meet at the Cross Keys?”
“Yes, although Lord de Marne wasn’t happy about it, he said it was too risky, but Mam’selle insisted. Anyway, in case they couldn’t meet there after all, they had a plan for contacting each other from here. I told them about the hollow tree in the village, and Lord de Marne said he’d leave a note there to say where he was staying. I—I went for the note last night when I went to see my family.”
“What did it say?”
Mary hung her head. “I don’t know, my lady. It was sealed, and Mam’selle threw it on the fire as soon as she’d read it.”
“Do you know where Lord de Marne is?”
“No, my lady.”
“Is that the truth?”
“Yes, my lady.”
“Is there anything else I should be told?”
“No, my lady, except that Mam’selle is going to meet his lordship during her ride this morning. That’s why she didn’t want anyone to accompany her.”
“We thought as much,” Camilla murmured.
Mary looked imploringly at her. “I—I’ve told you everything, my lady, truly I have. Please don’t dismiss me, I’ll never do anything like this again, I swear I won’t.”
“I’ll forgive you this time, Mary, for Mam’selle deceived you into helping her and I know how convincing an actress she can be, but you aren’t to say anything to her about this conversation. Is that understood?”
“Yes, my lady.”
“And if you find out more, you’re to tell me immediately.”
“I will, my lady.”
“Believe me, in many ways I have every sympathy with Mam’selle and Lord de Marne, for I have no doubt they’re truly in love, but they’re both promised elsewhere, and while those other matches exist neither of them has any business doing what they’re doing, especially when high politics and the Czar of Russia are involved. Have I made myself crystal clear?”
Mary swallowed. High politics and the Czar of Russia? “Yes, my lady.”
“Very well, I’ll say no more on the matter. Now then, I’ll require my pink gingham for breakfast, but afterward I’ll need my riding habit.”
“Yes, my lady.”
“And the fact that Mam’selle isn’t the only one who’ll be riding this morning should not be transmitted to her.”
“No, my lady.”
* * *
It was almost time for Sophie’s ride, and Camilla and Dominic waited in their separate apartments for her to set off. Camilla wore her emerald green riding habit and black top hat, and she stood at her bedroom window to look out at the estate she loved so much.
Summerton Park was enchanting at every time of year, but perhaps looked its best on a bright spring day. She glanced toward the Chinese garden. It had been created about a quarter of a mile from the house, where a stream cascaded down the steep wooded side of the valley to join the river. The shining water tumbled past rocks, bamboo thickets, and pink-and-white blossoms, but it was the elegant pagoda halfway up the garden that dominated everything. She could see the golden wind chimes, and knew they’d be playing softly in the breeze, just as they had the day she and Dominic had climbed to the top.