Lady Beneath the Veil

Home > Other > Lady Beneath the Veil > Page 22
Lady Beneath the Veil Page 22

by Sarah Mallory


  Lady Ribblestone gave an elegant shrug.

  ‘No-o, we can as well look in the shops there as anywhere else, I suppose. And afterwards I shall take Dominique to Grosvenor Square for a little refreshment before I send her back to you in time for dinner.’

  ‘Excellent.’ Dominique pushed back her chair. ‘I will fetch my pelisse.’

  As Dominique walked past her husband he caught her wrist. ‘I have no objection to you spending whatever you need, my dear, as long as it includes at least one shift as outrageous as the one you wore last night.’

  Gwen laughed, but Dominique’s cheeks flamed and she almost ran out of the room, dragging Gwen with her.

  * * *

  Gideon drove the five miles or so into town at a steady pace, his mind as much on the events of the night as the forthcoming assignation. Dominique had surprised him yesterday. He stifled a laugh. She had said she deliberately set out to lure him and, by God, she had succeeded. From the moment he had seen her in that red gown, looking so delectable, he had been unable to think of anything else. He had even forgotten to warn his sister to cease her flirtatious behaviour or risk Anthony’s wrath. Perhaps there would be time to speak to her when she brought Dominique back from her shopping trip. Dominique. He could even call her by her rightful name now. How wrong he had been to treat her like some fragile creature who would break at the slightest chill wind, when in fact she was flesh and blood, as passionate as he. All those months of restraint, of keeping his distance, of believing she was responding to him only out of duty.

  He had thought that the passion they had shared on their wedding night had been a mistake, a heady mix of anger and nerves and wine. Since then he had done his duty, keeping his desires and his feelings buried deep, but it was a long time since he had thought of his wife as a burden, an inconvenience—his wife by mistake. When he had awoken this morning and found her asleep in his arms he had been overwhelmed by some deep, primitive emotion that he now recognised as a profound and all-consuming love. It had cost him something to leave her sleeping, when he had wanted to wake her and tell her of his revelation, but there would be time for that later. First he needed to meet Agnes, to look at those papers and see if they really did mean that Dominique and her mother were not penniless. He did not care a jot that his wife had no dowry, but he knew it mattered a great deal to Dominique and he valued her happiness and comfort far above his own.

  He took out his watch: eleven-thirty. He was in good time. He skirted Hyde Park and entered Piccadilly from the west, knowing that Gwen and Dominique were unlikely to come so far out of their way, especially now they were collecting his hat for him from Oxford Street. As on the previous day he left Sam with the curricle and went off alone into Green Park. Several couples were strolling there, but the area of trees where he was to meet Agnes was deserted. He was beginning to wonder if something had occurred to prevent her coming when he saw her hurrying towards him, her grey cloak pulled close, despite the warmth of the late May sunshine.

  ‘I beg your pardon, I was delayed.’ She pulled a packet of papers from under her cloak. ‘They are all there, including the letter from Coutts’ Bank. I hope you can use them to serve the earl a bad turn. Give ’im a bloody nose from me, Gideon.’

  ‘I shall do my best.’ Gideon glanced at the papers. He would need to study them, but not here. ‘Thank you, for these. What do you do now?’

  ‘I ain’t going back to the earl, that’s for sure.’ She folded her arms across her chest. ‘That’s why I was delayed. I sent my things off this morning and I mean to follow them.’

  ‘Where do you go?’

  She shook her head. ‘Best you don’t know, my dear. All I will say is that I am to catch the Holyhead mail.’

  Gideon frowned. ‘That sets off from the Bull and Mouth, doesn’t it?’

  ‘Aye, t’other end of Piccadilly. I left the earl’s carriage waiting for me on the south side of the park. By the time they realises I ain’t coming back I shall be long gone.’

  ‘It is still dangerous,’ said Gideon. ‘If the earl discovers what you are about, he is bound to search the coaching inns.’ He thought quickly. ‘The next stop will be where, Islington?’

  ‘Aye, the Peacock.’

  ‘Then I’ll drive you there. You will be safer out of town.’

  ‘That’s very kind of you.’ She shot a glance up at him. ‘Is it for old times’ sake?’

  He laughed.

  ‘No, but when you tricked me into marriage it was the best thing that ever happened to me, so you deserve something for that! Come along. Let us get you away from here.’

  Chapter Seventeen

  Dominique spent the carriage ride into town warding off her sister-in-law’s questions.

  ‘This is most ungenerous of you,’ protested Gwen, laughing. ‘You arrive at my party last night, looking so ravishing that no man has eyes for anyone else, then you steal away with Gideon before the tea tray is brought in! What am I to think?’

  ‘Whatever you wish,’ replied Dominique twinkling. Then, relenting, she laughed and blushed. ‘Oh, Gwen, it was wonderful. I really think he cares for me.’

  ‘Did he say so?’

  ‘Not in so many words, but I hope that will follow.’

  ‘Yes, I hope so, too,’ replied Gwen sincerely. ‘He was certainly very loving towards you this morning.’

  Dominique hesitated. ‘Perhaps you should try the same thing with your husband.’

  ‘I gave up trying to woo Anthony years ago. He is more interested in his politics than his wife. I have positively flaunted my flirts before him and he does not notice.’ Gwen’s mouth drooped and for a moment she looked very despondent, then she gave herself a little shake, and her generous smile reappeared. ‘But this is dismal talk when we have shopping to do. Madame Sienna’s first, I think, and then perhaps we should visit Bertram’s warehouse and find something to make you another dashy dress!’

  * * *

  Dominique had been quite happy to go along with Gwen’s plans, her head still full of Gideon and the night they had shared, but she was forced to put aside her beatific daydreams when they emerged from the modiste’s shop.

  ‘Oh, dear,’ exclaimed Gwen, ‘it is your cousin. Look, he has just emerged from Clifford Street. And he is coming this way.’

  There was no avoiding him and, judging by the way his face lit up when he recognised her, Dominique knew he was going to stop and talk to her.

  ‘There is no avoiding him now, I suppose,’ muttered Gwen, linking her arm though Dominique’s for support. When he raised his hat she said coolly, ‘Lord Martlesham.’

  ‘Lady Ribblestone, and my dear cousin.’

  His oily greeting immediately put Dominique on the alert. She nodded silently, hoping he would stand aside to let them pass, but, no. He merely looked pained.

  ‘So haughty, Dominique, after all I have done to promote your happiness.’

  ‘To destroy it would be more accurate.’

  ‘No, no, Cousin, your welfare has always been my first consideration. Does your husband know you are in town?’

  Dominique raised her brows, saying coldly, ‘Of course.’

  ‘Perhaps he has arranged to meet you later.’

  ‘No, he is at Chalcots.’

  His smile grew.

  ‘I think not.’

  ‘You must allow Mrs Albury to know best, my lord,’ put in Gwen. ‘We left my brother taking breakfast.’

  Max regarded them with such a knowing smile that Dominique longed to box his ears.

  ‘I hate to disagree with you, ladies, but I think you will find—ah, no.’ He stopped and sighed. ‘If that is what you believe, then so be it.’

  A cold hand clutched at Dominique’s heart, but she replied stoutly, ‘You can tell me nothing that will shake my faith in Gid
eon. I trust him implicitly.’

  ‘You trust him implicitly,’ he repeated slowly. ‘What a good little wife you are to him, my dear. And how I pity you.’

  ‘I do not need your pity. Now, if you will excuse us—’

  ‘And if I should tell you that he is seeing Mrs Bennet?’

  ‘Absurd!’ exclaimed Gwen hotly.

  Dominique clutched her arm, her legs suddenly very weak.

  ‘You lie.’ She glared up at Max.

  The triumphant gleam in his eyes only deepened.

  ‘He is meeting her in Green Park at noon.’ He lifted his head as a distant church bell chimed the hour. ‘Which is now. Why not come with me and we shall see who is right?’

  Gwendoline said coldly, ‘We do not need to go to the Green Park, my lord. My brother’s integrity is beyond question.’

  Dominique wanted to agree. She wanted to turn away from Max’s tormenting, smiling face, but she could not.

  ‘We will go with you,’ she stated, her back very straight. ‘But only to prove you wrong.’

  Ignoring the earl’s outstretched arm, she turned and marched along Bond Street until they reached Piccadilly.

  ‘My dear, this is madness,’ Gwen muttered, hurrying beside her. ‘Let me take you home instead. I am sure...’

  Her words trailed away as Dominique stopped, recognising the elegant curricle and pair trotting towards them at a smart pace.

  ‘So Albury’s integrity is beyond question, is it?’ The earl’s sneering voice only added to Dominique’s misery.

  She watched the curricle fly past, Gideon intent on negotiating the heavy traffic. At his side was a cloaked figure, the breeze making the voluminous hood billow out to display the unmistakable face of Agnes Bennet. Like a devil at her shoulder, she heard Max chuckle.

  ‘Well, well. This has worked out even better than I expected. Cousin, I am so sorry for you.’

  ‘But where are they going?’ asked Gwen. ‘Where can he be taking her, and in broad daylight?’

  ‘I have no idea,’ drawled Max. ‘But it makes no odds to me. She has served her purpose well enough.’

  ‘She has—’ Gwen broke off, her indignation too great for her to speak for several moments. At last she said, in arctic tones, ‘Pray excuse us, Lord Martlesham. I must take my sister-in-law away from here.’

  ‘Of course, ma’am. If there is anything I can do...’

  ‘You have done quite enough!’

  Dominique was rooted to the ground, staring after the curricle. Gwen put her arm about her shoulders.

  ‘Come, love, let me take you back to the carriage.’

  Dominique tried to focus. Everything seemed very distant. She saw Max walking away, swinging his cane as if he had not a care in the world. And everyone else, too, was carrying on quite as normal.

  ‘I shall take you back to Grosvenor Square,’ said Gwen.

  Dominique shook her head.

  ‘No,’ she managed, her throat so constricted that it was difficult to speak. ‘No, I want to go to Chalcots, if you please.’

  ‘Very well, love, if that is what you want.’

  ‘Yes, yes, it is.’ She struggled into the waiting carriage and collapsed into the corner, her world in ruins.

  * * *

  Gideon left Agnes at the Peacock Inn and made his way back to the city to the offices of Rogers & Mitchell. However, when he learned that Mr Rogers was gone out of town he drove to the newly refurbished offices of Coutts & Co in the Strand.

  * * *

  An hour later he was on his way home, well satisfied with the day’s work and eager to share his news with Dominique. After last night he half expected her to be looking out for him and to come running out into his arms, but when he pulled up at the main door of Chalcots there was no sign of life. No matter, he would probably find her in the nursery. How her face would light up when he told her that she was heiress to a considerable fortune.

  Thomas opened the door and Gideon greeted him with a grin.

  ‘By Gad, you look as if you had lost sixpence and found a groat, Thomas. What is it, has Cook given notice?’

  ‘No, sir.’

  ‘Where is Mrs Albury?’

  ‘She—she’s gone, sir.’

  ‘Gone? You mean she has not returned from town yet?’

  ‘N-no, sir. I mean she has gone. Left.’ Gideon paused in the act of stripping off his gloves and under his frowning gaze the butler stumbled on. ‘Mrs Albury did come back, sir, with Lady Ribblestone, but she immediately left again, with her maid, and Nurse and Master James.’

  ‘What!’

  Gideon dashed up the stairs. Dominique’s bedchamber was the first door he came to and he entered without knocking. The room was in a state of disarray, drawers and cupboards open and clothes scattered, as if someone had left in a hurry. He went quickly to the nursery, which was in very much the same state. He was still trying to take it all in when there was a discreet cough behind him and he turned to find his valet standing in the doorway.

  ‘What has gone on here, Runcorn?’

  ‘As to that I couldn’t say, sir. Mrs Albury came in with Lady Ribblestone soon after one o’clock and set the household by the ears.’

  ‘I can see that,’ muttered Gideon, grimly surveying the empty nursery.

  ‘From the little that I overheard,’ continued the valet in a toneless voice, ‘I believe they had met Lord Martlesham in Piccadilly...’

  ‘The devil they did!’ Suddenly it all made sense. Gideon swung round. ‘Any idea where they were going?’

  ‘I am afraid not, sir, but if it is any consolation, they all went off in Lady Ribblestone’s carriage.’

  Cursing his stupidity, Gideon went back down the stairs, barking orders as he went.

  * * *

  Lord Ribblestone looked up from the letter in his hand when Gideon was shown into his study.

  ‘Is my wife here?’

  Gideon wasted no time on pleasantries, but that did not seem to surprise his host.

  ‘No, and neither is mine.’ Anthony held out the paper. ‘I have only just come in myself and this was waiting for me. It is very garbled, but it appears Gwen has taken Dominique to Rotham.’

  ‘Thank God.’

  Gideon sat down abruptly. Anthony walked over to a side table and filled two glasses from the decanter. He handed one to Gideon.

  ‘Trouble?’

  ‘Oh, yes.’ Gideon passed his hand across his eyes and quickly explained the events of the past few hours.

  ‘I hate to say I told you so,’ murmured Anthony, when he had finished. ‘But if you had told Dominique what you were about...’

  ‘I know, but it is too late for that now.’

  ‘Well, I suppose we must go after them.’

  ‘We?’

  Anthony’s eyes narrowed.

  ‘My wife has gone, too, you know.’

  ‘Very well, but there is some business that needs attention first.’

  ‘Where are we going?’ asked Anthony, following him out of the room.

  ‘To White’s. I have a score to settle with Martlesham and I will need a second!’

  * * *

  Despite the early hour the club was busy and they found the earl at one of the card tables. He was surrounded by his cronies, including Carstairs and the foppish Williams. The earl was counting his winnings, but he glanced up as Gideon entered.

  ‘Albury,’ he called across the room. ‘Have you come to escape your wife’s wrath?’

  ‘Not at all,’ replied Gideon, stripping off his gloves.

  Max cast a smirking glance at his cronies.

  ‘Quite a shock for her, to see you driving through Piccadilly with the delectable Mrs Bennet at your side. After all, ’twas o
nly a year ago you were intent upon making her your bride, eh?’ A few stifled laughs were heard, but Gideon said nothing as he walked towards his quarry. Max was still chuckling as he rose from the table and stood before Gideon, his lip curled in a sneer. ‘No doubt you have installed the whore in a little love nest of your own.’

  ‘Don’t judge everyone by your own standards, Max. Mrs Bennet is now safely out of your way, but she did send something for you.’

  Without warning Gideon’s fist came up and crashed into Max’s face, sending him sprawling to the ground.

  Uproar ensued. Everyone crowded around and there were some mutters of ‘bad form!’ but a gesture from Lord Ribblestone prevented anyone laying hands upon Gideon.

  ‘By God, you will meet me for that!’ Max scrambled to his feet, his face suffused with rage and one hand pressed to his bleeding nose.

  ‘With pleasure,’ retorted Gideon coldly. ‘You planned to dupe my wife out of her rightful inheritance and I demand satisfaction for that. Hampstead Heath. Nine o’clock tonight.’

  ‘Tonight!’ The buck-toothed Williams raised his quizzing glass to stare at Gideon. ‘Nay, sir, make it tomorrow, at dawn.’

  ‘I have business that cannot wait,’ said Gideon shortly. He fixed his eyes on Max. ‘Nine o’clock, Martlesham. Be there, or be branded a rogue and a coward!’

  * * *

  The sun had set on a cloudless May day when Gideon drove on to Hampstead Heath. He stopped his curricle behind a closed carriage, from which a sober-looking gentleman in a bagwig was emerging, carrying a leather bag.

  ‘So we have a surgeon on hand, in any event,’ he remarked cheerfully.

  ‘Are you sure this is wise?’ murmured Ribblestone.

  ‘No, but it is necessary. I should have done it a year ago, rather than forcing Dominique to go on with a marriage that was none of her choosing.’ He looked up as he heard another carriage approaching. ‘Here’s Martlesham now, with Carstairs as his second. Let us finish this.’

  * * *

  Gideon talked to the doctor while Ribblestone conferred with Mr Carstairs. They inspected the duelling pistols—a pair provided by Anthony that Gideon had practised with on several occasions—then the combatants took their places. The light was fading fast and a cold wind had blown up. The white handkerchief fluttered and fell. Gideon’s arm jerked up and he fired, seeing a simultaneous flash from the other gun. Martlesham collapsed with a yell and Gideon stood for a moment while his brain ascertained that he had taken no hurt himself. Tossing the pistol back to Ribblestone, he strode off towards the curricle.

 

‹ Prev