Lady Beneath the Veil

by Sarah Mallory

  ‘Very neatly expedited,’ said Anthony, stowing the box containing the pistols beneath the seat and scrambling up. ‘And he is not dead, so you needn’t flee the country.’

  Gideon set the team in motion, glancing back just once as they drove away. Max was being helped into his carriage by Carstairs and the doctor.

  ‘I never intended to kill him. The bullet in his shoulder is nothing to the pain he will suffer tomorrow when the bank informs him that he no longer has any hope of touching Rainault’s fortune. Dominique and her mother will soon have control of that.’

  ‘And if he had hit you?’

  Gideon gave a grim smile.

  ‘Max has been drinking all day and in this light he had little chance of hitting a house, let alone a man.’

  ‘What now?’ asked Ribblestone as they hurtled through the gathering gloom.

  ‘Back to Chalcots for a change of horses and supper, then off to Rotham.’

  Anthony sat up. ‘Tonight? But it’s fifty miles!’

  ‘What of it? The moon will be up and I know the road.’

  ‘So you plan to arrive at the crack of dawn, unwashed and unshaven. That is sure to endear you to your wife.’

  The jibe hit home.

  ‘Very well, we will stop on the road for breakfast and a change of neckcloth. Will that suit you? Damn it all, man, do not expect me to wait until the morning to set out, for there is no possibility of my sleeping tonight.’ He glanced at Anthony. ‘I want to see Dominique as soon as may be and put things right. What about you?’

  What I want,’ said Anthony, with unwonted savagery, ‘is to wring Gwen’s damned neck!’

  * * *

  The Ribblestone carriage arrived at Rotham shortly before ten o’clock, by the light of the rising moon. It had taken some time to pack up everything Dominique thought it necessary to take with them into Buckinghamshire and they had also broken their journey in order for little James to be fed in comfort, rather than in the jolting carriage. The viscount’s household was thrown into a panic by the sudden arrival of the two ladies, together with the baby, his nurse and Mrs Albury’s maid, but Lord Rotham took one look at Dominque’s stricken countenance and immediately gave orders for rooms to be prepared with all haste. Then he carried Dominique and Gwendoline off to the drawing room, where the whole story came pouring out.

  ‘I cannot believe this of Gideon.’ Lord Rotham looked a question at Gwen, who shrugged, but it was Dominique who answered him.

  ‘He t-told me, assured me, he had no intention of seeing her, after we met by chance at the theatre.’ She pulled her damp handkerchief between her fingers. ‘And then to discover him driving through town with her—’

  The viscount shook his head.

  ‘My son has many faults,’ he said heavily, ‘but I had not thought this of him.’

  ‘I wanted to wait and see what Gideon had to say for himself,’ put in Gwendoline, ‘but Dominique was desperate to get away.’

  ‘I c-could not stay in that house,’ cried Dominique, jumping up. ‘Not there, where we—where we...’

  Her voice was suspended. She hid her face in her hands, feeling the hot tears leaking between her fingers. Gwen put an arm around her and gently eased her back on to the sofa.

  ‘Hush now, love. You are overwrought, and tired, too, I shouldn’t wonder.’

  ‘Yes, of course. So foolish of me.’ Dominique wiped her eyes. ‘I beg your pardon. And yours, too, my lord, for descending upon you in this way, b-but I could not think where else to go.’

  His smile was kindness itself.

  ‘Where else should you go? You are my son’s wife, the mother of his child. My grandson. You may remain here for as long as you wish.’

  ‘And—and Gideon?’

  ‘He will no doubt arrive here shortly, and when he does he may give his version of events. We may yet find there is a reasonable explanation.’ Dominique shook her head and he continued, ‘Well, let us wait and see what the morning brings. For now I suggest you should take a little supper and go to bed. I have also given orders for your old room to be prepared for you, Gwendoline. It is too late for you to be going to Fairlawns.’

  ‘Thank you, Papa, but I do not want to burden you. Mrs Ellis mentioned another visitor—’

  ‘Yes, Mr Rogers arrived earlier, but that need not concern you tonight.’

  * * *

  Gently but firmly he shepherded them into the care of the kindly housekeeper, who took them off to the oak parlour and plied them with hot soup and bread and butter. Dominique managed to force down a few mouthfuls before retiring to her room. Unhappiness wrapped itself around her like a cloak, but she was so bone-weary that thankfully, almost as soon as she slid between the warmed sheets, she was asleep.

  * * *

  Dominique awoke early the following morning, but was in no mood for company, so she spent an hour with little James before making her way downstairs to the breakfast room. Gwendoline and the viscount were already seated there, together with a gentleman in a brown wig and plain brown coat.

  ‘Mr Rogers.’ She greeted him as cheerfully as she could. ‘I am very glad to see you, sir.’

  ‘And I you, Mrs Albury,’ he returned. ‘Especially so, since my business with the viscount concerns you.’

  Her worries were momentarily forgotten. ‘You have news of my father?’

  ‘Pray do not raise your hopes too high,’ Lord Rotham warned her. ‘We should discuss this in my study after breakfast.’

  ‘Oh, please tell me now,’ she begged him. ‘I cannot bear for you to keep me in suspense—and I am sure there can be nothing that Gwendoline should not hear.’ She laid a hand on her father-in-law’s arm, saying again, ‘Pray, my lord, tell me now. Any news will be welcome after all these years.’

  ‘First let me pour you a little coffee,’ said Gwen, suiting the action to the words. ‘And take some bread and butter, Dominique. You may eat it while Mr Rogers talks.’

  The lawyer dabbed at his dry lips with the napkin.

  ‘Well, if Lord Rotham has no objection...?’ The viscount signalled to him to continue and the lawyer twisted slightly in his chair to address Dominique. ‘I have information about your father, madam, and because it is of such importance I thought it best to come in person to discuss it with Lord Rotham.’

  ‘Monsieur Rainault is alive!’ cried Gwen, clapping her hands.

  ‘Exactly, Lady Ribblestone. That is, he was still alive at the time of the last communication,’ amended Mr Rogers with typical lawyer’s caution. He turned again to Dominique. ‘As you know, Lord Rotham took an interest in this affair last year and he put me in touch with certain parties in France, relatives of his late brother-in-law, the Duc du Chailly. We have had to proceed very carefully. France is full of spies ready to expose anyone they think wishes to overturn the new order. However, with patience and perseverance we located your father. He was being held in a remote prison under a false name. We can only surmise that he assumed this identity in an effort to flee the country.’

  ‘That explains why Maman’s efforts to trace him failed,’ said Dominique, adding darkly, ‘Those that were not thwarted by my cousin.’

  ‘Quite.’ Mr Rogers nodded. ‘My last communication from France arrived early Monday morning and I set off directly for Rotham. Our “friends” in France secured your father’s release, madam, but even then it was not safe to make this information public. Your father’s moderate views were well known and would not be popular with the present government. I was reluctant to apply for papers to bring your father from France as it would alert the authorities.’

  ‘Yes, yes, I quite see that,’ said Dominique eagerly. ‘So what can we do?’

  ‘We will smuggle him into England,’ the viscount told her. ‘I shall send a man to France to fetch him home to you.’ He smiled.
‘How we are to achieve that is best kept a secret. Mr Rogers and I will go away now to thrash out the details and leave you and Gwendoline to finish your breakfast.’

  ‘Well,’ declared Gwen, when the men had departed, ‘that at least is good news for you, my dear.’

  ‘I can hardly believe it, after all this time.’ Dominique shook her head. ‘I shall take little James into the village later to tell Maman. It will deflect her attention from my own situation.’

  ‘Ah, yes.’ Gwen paused, crumbling a piece of bread between her fingers while she chose her words. ‘Perhaps Papa is right and Gideon has a good reason for what happened yesterday.’

  Dominique put up her hands.

  ‘Do you not think I have gone over and over it in my mind? He told me I had nothing to fear from Agnes Bennet. And then, at breakfast yesterday, do you remember how he asked where we would be shopping and could we call into Irwin’s? Why did he not call in himself, if he was going into town? No, it was all a ploy to keep us from Piccadilly.’

  ‘It is all the fault of your horrid cousin,’ exclaimed Gwen, getting up from the table.

  ‘Perhaps, but he could not force Gideon to meet with her, could he? And he certainly had no hand in Gideon’s taking her up in his curricle.’ Dominique drew a long, angry breath. ‘I thought I could make him l-love me, but no. He might take his p-pleasure with me occasionally, but it is Agnes who owns his heart, and he can never forget that I am the p-penniless daughter of a F-Frenchman. And even if he could,’ she said, angry colour returning to her cheeks, ‘I cannot forgive him for deceiving me!’

  ‘So what will you say to him, when he comes?’

  Dominique’s spurt of temper died away.

  ‘I really do not know,’ she said despondently.

  ‘Well, you had best think of something now,’ said Gwen, looking out of the window. ‘Gideon’s curricle is at the door. And—oh, heavens, he has Anthony with him!’

  Dominique had jumped up as soon as Gwen spoke and now she stood beside her sister-in-law, staring out through the leaded glass. Her throat dried. She had run away from Gideon, taken his child. How angry he would be about that. Her Gallic blood surged furiously through her veins. If anyone had a right to be angry it was she—after all, he had deceived her, lied to her, and that was unforgivable.

  There was the low rumble of voices in the hall. She reached for Gwen’s hand and together they turned to face the door.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Dominique flinched as Gideon strode in, Anthony close on his heels. Both men looked tired and grim, but fury blazed in their eyes. Gideon broke the silence.

  ‘Well, ladies. This is a merry dance you have led us.’ His voice was hard, his anger barely contained.

  Dominique drew herself up.

  ‘Hardly merry, sir. I did not come here out of choice, I assure you.’ She stepped back, as if to hide behind Gwen, when Gideon made to approach. ‘Lord Rotham says I need not speak to you unless I wish to do so.’

  ‘By God, madam, you are my wife and you will—’

  ‘Yes, I am your wife, sir,’ she flashed, ‘and you would do well to remember it!’

  Turning on her heel, she dashed from the room.

  ‘Dominique, stop.’ Gideon ran after her. ‘For heaven’s sake, woman, hear me out—!’

  As his voice died away Anthony shut the door and stood with his back pressed against it.

  ‘So, you are teaching little Dominique your flighty ways.’

  ‘I have taught her nothing, my lord.’ Gwen watched him warily. There was something different about Anthony. A tension, like a predator, ready to spring. The anger still glowed in his eyes, but she noted also the dark shadows beneath. She said suddenly, ‘Have you travelled all night?’

  ‘How else do you think we managed to get here so quickly? And a curricle is not built for sleeping, I can assure you.’

  ‘I suppose you expect me to come back to London with you.’

  ‘Not immediately. You have not forgotten our last conversation, I hope?’

  ‘Of course not, and I really did mean to support you. I appreciate how hard you have been working these past few weeks, what with the peace breaking down, and Bonaparte doing all he can to buy more time with his tricks and stratagems—but you must see that this was an emergency.’

  ‘I see nothing of the sort. I told you I would stand for no more of your games, madam.’

  ‘Flirtations, you called them,’ she responded, trying to conceal her unease. ‘This was not like that, I was helping my sister-in-law—’

  ‘Yes, helping her to run away from her husband. It would have been better for everyone if you had encouraged her to have this out with Gideon at Chalcots.’

  ‘La, I vow you are grown very censorious, my lord.’ She tossed her head. ‘I shall not stay—’

  ‘You will stay, madam, until I have finished with you.’

  She stepped back, eyes widening with apprehension.

  ‘What are you going to do?’

  ‘Something I should have done a long time ago.’

  He turned the key in the lock and advanced towards her.

  * * *

  Dominique’s headlong flight from the breakfast room caused the servants to jump aside to avoid a collision and she had reached the stairs before Gideon caught up with her.

  ‘Dominique, listen to me!’

  He grabbed her arm, but the fury blazing in her eyes when she turned to him made him release her again.

  ‘Why should I listen to you, when all you tell me are lies?’

  ‘No, believe me—’

  ‘You told me you would not see Agnes Bennet and within days you were meeting her secretly. I saw you, Gideon, in Piccadilly.’

  ‘Yes, but that was because she had news, about Max.’ She waved her hand, dismissing him, and sped up the stairs so that he was obliged to run after her. ‘Will you listen to me, you hellcat? I did this for you!’

  She had reached the landing, but his words made her turn, her lip curling in disbelief.

  ‘Oh, yes, that is very likely! You met with the woman you love, the woman you wanted to wed, for my benefit!’ She dashed her hand across her eyes. ‘You should never have continued with the marriage, Gideon.’

  ‘I had to, after what happened on our wedding night.’

  Even as the words left his mouth Gideon realised his mistake. He saw the misery flash across her face and reached out for her.

  ‘Dominique, I did not mean—’

  She pushed him away.

  ‘Oh, I know very well what you mean. You cannot forget that I am half French, can you? You abhor that part of me, even though you might desire my body. But that is how men are, is it not? They c-cannot resist the temptations of the flesh. Our marriage has never been anything more for you than a shackle, a yoke that you do not want.’

  ‘No!’

  ‘You were too honourable to put me away quietly.’ She continued as if he had not spoken. ‘But how I wish you had done so, for it would have been better than this!’ She took a deep, steadying breath before saying icily, ‘You need have no fear, sir. I know what is expected of me. You will want more children, of course, but pray give me a little time to become a-accustomed to your, your diversions before you demand that I resume my role as your wife.’ She shuddered. ‘And do not expect me to take any joy in it. You have killed that. I cannot love a man who thinks so little of me.’

  Stunned, he remained rooted to the spot while she whisked herself away and into her room. He heard the key grate in the lock, and the heart-rending sound of her muffled sobs from the other side of the door.

  Her last words lodged in his heart like a knife. He raised his arm to knock on the door, but realised the futility of it. Slowly he made his way back to the empty drawing room, where he sa
nk down in a chair and stared blankly before him.

  * * *

  How long he remained there he had no idea, an hour, maybe two. He heard the door open and looked around as Gwendoline and Anthony entered, hand in hand. He scowled at his sister, who looked unaccountably cheerful. Gideon realised Anthony was regarding him and he raised his head, saying bitterly, ‘You were right, Anthony. I should have told her I was meeting Mrs Bennet.’

  ‘You explained to her the circumstances?’ said Anthony, holding up a hand to silence Gwen’s questions.

  ‘I tried, but she will not listen. All she can see is that I broke my word. She thinks I see our marriage as a burden.’

  ‘And is it?’ asked Anthony quietly.

  Gideon dropped his head in his hands

  ‘At the beginning it was...difficult. But now—’ He took a breath, facing the truth. ‘Now, I cannot contemplate living without her.’

  ‘Oh, Gideon—!’

  Gwen’s sympathetic utterance was cut short as the door opened again and the viscount came in. Lord Rotham nodded to his daughter and son-in-law and addressed Gideon.

  ‘Ah, my boy. I was informed that you had arrived.’

  ‘As you see, Father.’ Gideon rose, nodding at the lawyer following his father into the room. ‘Mr Rogers. I called at your offices yesterday, but you were already on your way here. Before you go back to town, I would be obliged if you would see Mrs Rainault and ask her to appoint you to act on her behalf, then you must call upon Coutts, the bankers in the Strand. They are holding a considerable sum of money for her, including a dowry for my wife.’

  ‘A dowry!’ declared Gwen. ‘But why? How—?’