‘Good afternoon, my lady.’
He bowed and then surveyed her steadily, the vivid gaze taking in every detail of her appearance. Whether it found favour or not was impossible to tell, but the attention was utterly unnerving and Claudia felt perspiration start on the palms of her hands. She told herself firmly that she couldn’t afford an attack of nerves now. What had happened between them was never going to be repeated. Why had he insisted on coming here? She supposed it was just possible that what he had to say was too sensitive to be committed to paper, but the uneasy feeling persisted that he had other motives for this visit.
Appalled by her reaction, and anxious to conduct this interview as soon as possible, Claudia came straight to the point.
‘I hope that your visit to London proved satisfactory.’
‘Yes, it did, I thank you.’
‘You saw Genet, I collect.’
‘Yes.’
‘May I ask what he said?’
‘It appears that two other operatives—Lebrun and Saunière—were warned in time to escape the trap in Paris.’
‘I’m glad to hear it. Even so, Genet will have to start again; set up a new network almost from scratch. It won’t be easy.’
‘No, it won’t, but he’ll manage. Men of his stamp always do.’ He paused. ‘However, Genet isn’t the reason I came here today.’
‘Oh.’ She tensed. Now they would come to it. ‘What then?’
‘Don’t you know, Claudia?’
The tone was quiet, gentle even, but something about it caused a faint fluttering sensation in the pit of her stomach. The familiar use of her name caught her off guard too, although he had used it many times before. However, that was then. Circumstances were different now and the intimacy they had shared was over. He must be left in no doubt of that.
‘No,’ she replied. ‘Perhaps you will be good enough to explain.’
For a brief moment his expression was quizzical. ‘Do I need to explain?’
‘Yes, you do. What is it you want to say?’
‘Not to say, but to show you.’ Under her puzzled gaze he strolled across the room and stopped before the hearth. Then he turned to face her. ‘Look, Claudia. Look carefully.’
She stared at him, her eyes registering uncertainty. Then her consciousness moved past him to the portrait behind. For a moment the man and the portrait were juxtaposed. Then, slowly, inexorably, the two figures seemed to merge, their faces to blend and blur. Her heart leapt towards her throat.
‘No,’ she murmured, ‘it isn’t possible.’
She looked again at the man in front of her and, gradually, all the unconnected details of their earlier conversations fell into place. Her cheeks paled.
‘Anthony?’
‘Yes.’
Unwilling to trust her legs any longer she sank down on the couch, trying to assimilate the knowledge. Her companion frowned. She heard the decanter clink and then the sound of liquid being poured. Moments later he was beside her and placing a glass in her hand.
‘Drink this.’
It was brandy, and a generous measure withal. Imbibing spirits was something she had done only rarely; the drink burned her throat and made her eyes water. She felt the fiery liquor carve a path all the way to her stomach but, gradually, it began to quiet the tremors there. With that came an increased awareness of the masculine figure beside her, of the arm around her shoulders transmitting a different kind of warmth, of the faint scent of cedar on his coat and beneath it the disturbing and familiar scent of the man. Together with the brandy it was a dangerously heady combination.
He watched her intently and, as some of the colour returned to her cheeks, felt inwardly relieved. For a moment or two he’d really thought she might faint. It was so unlike her as to be cause for concern.
‘Forgive me,’ he said, ‘but it seemed better to let you see the truth rather than merely to tell you.’
Her fingers tightened round the glass. The truth. It had been under her nose for nearly a fortnight and she hadn’t seen it. As the initial shock began to fade it gave way to other emotions, not least the sense of her stupidity. How could she have failed to make the connections between their respective backgrounds? Even Antoine and Anthony were two versions of the same name; Duval a loose pun on Ulverdale.
‘There is much we need to discuss, Claudia.’
His voice dragged her back to the present. ‘Yes.’
‘But perhaps now is not the time. Later, maybe, when you’ve had a chance to recover.’
She heard him in disbelief. He spoke as though an hour’s rest in a darkened room would somehow resolve this. While it was tempting to cut and run, to flee to the sanctuary of her chamber, that would solve nothing. It had to be faced, and preferably before courage ran out. With an effort she gathered her wits.
‘I am not so poor a creature as you seem to think.’
‘I have never thought so,’ he replied. ‘All the same, I know this has been a shock for you.’
She closed her eyes for a moment, thinking that shock didn’t begin to describe what she felt just then. He had had far longer to make the mental adjustment. That realisation engendered others. Disengaging herself from his arm, she altered her position so that she could see his face.
‘When did you first know the truth?’ she demanded.
‘At the inn in St Helier, when you spoke of Oakley Court.’
‘Yet you said nothing.’
‘The truth came as a shock to me too. I needed to get my thoughts in order.’
‘Among them, the possibility of saying nothing at all, perhaps?’
‘That was never a real possibility.’
‘Why not? It would have made little difference surely?’
‘It made all the difference.’
‘You could have gone back to your life and I to mine.’
‘After what happened in Paris there could be no going back, Claudia.’
‘Not there perhaps, but I’m sure Genet will find something else for you to do.’
‘I am not talking about Genet, and you know it.’
Her chin lifted. ‘No, I’m not sure I do.’
‘I am talking about us.’
‘There is no us. There never was.’
He sighed. ‘I cannot defend my former behaviour. Nor do I expect you to forgive it. All we can do now is to move on.’
‘I have already moved on. I have made a life for myself just as you have.’
‘Circumstances have changed.’
‘Nothing has changed, except that we now have a chance to discuss the future.’
‘That is my intention,’ he said.
‘There can be no possible reason for things to continue as they are. Neither of us chose this marriage, but we can choose what we do about it now.’
‘So I think.’
It was impossible to read his expression but the words gave her faint hope. ‘I know that divorce is out of the question, but there could be an annulment.’
It wasn’t unexpected, he had thought himself prepared, and yet hearing the words spoken was like being thrown into deep and icy water. He hadn’t realised until that moment how far he had allowed himself to hope.
When he did not immediately reject the proposal she drew courage and hurried on. ‘Our marriage is on paper only. Therefore, it has no force in law. It could be set aside and we would both be free.’
‘Free to do what exactly?’
‘Free to live as we choose. Free to love.’
His tone was studiedly neutral. ‘Is there someone else, Claudia?’
The pink colour deepened in her cheeks. ‘How could there be while I am married to you?’
‘Perhaps I should have phrased that differently. Is there someone else whom you wish to marry?�
�
‘Good Lord, no. How could you possibly think so? I have learned to value my independence too much for that.’
That stung too, and rather more than he’d expected. ‘Was that why you left Ulverdale?’
‘That’s right.’
‘Didn’t our respective families have something to say about that?’
‘Plenty, but once I had reached my majority the matter was out of their hands. Besides, my father was dead by then and yours too. Of course, your mother tried to persuade me to stay, but she could not prevail.’
‘Was it so very bad then?’
Claudia’s eyes sparkled with contained emotion. ‘How can you ask me that?’
‘Point taken. Yet there must have been compensations: parties, balls, soirées, the usual entertainments.’
‘I was a married woman. Therefore such things were not deemed fitting for me. It was made clear that my role was to possess my soul in patience until your return, at which time I could look forward to providing future heirs for Ulverdale.’
Her tone was unwontedly bitter. He listened in appalled silence, realising for the first time how far off the mark his former suppositions had been. His imagination had created a picture of a young lady of fashion enjoying all that the Season could offer. The reality was horrifyingly different.
‘I’m truly sorry, Claudia. I swear I had no idea...’
‘How should you?’ she replied. ‘You never came to
Ulverdale again.’
He took her hands in a firm clasp. ‘You were not the reason I left. Please believe that.’
She wanted to pull away but his hold denied the possibility. ‘How can I believe it?’
‘My anger was directed at my father, not at you. It was through his thoughtless profligacy that my family was facing financial ruin.’ He paused. ‘His gaming debts were enormous, the estate was mortgaged to the hilt and the banks would extend no more funds. At that point he could no longer ignore what was happening. With his creditors closing in he became increasingly desperate. He would have done anything, I believe, to avert the impending disaster.’
‘Yes, and thus he found his son a wealthy bride.’
Anthony nodded. ‘I will not pretend that I viewed the matter with anything other than dismay. I had just turned twenty and marriage was the furthest thing from my mind. I had my heart set on a career in the army.’
‘Evidently.’
‘The fact that my intended bride was but fourteen made everything the more reprehensible...’
Without warning he saw his father’s face again, grimly smiling. ‘The knot must be tied fast. You must bed her.’
Sickened, he heard again his own angry refusal and felt revulsion rising in his heart; revulsion for his father, not for his innocent and frightened child bride. To have obeyed that brutal behest would have been no better than rape. The slender coltish figure had scarcely begun to show the first signs of womanliness. To have got her with child might have killed her. Her body was not ready for the rigours of childbed. Not that that would have troubled the old reprobate. Money cancelled out all moral qualms there. However, the countess had supported her son in this, standing up to her husband with unusual vigour. A fierce private quarrel had ensued but, under their combined strength, the Earl had backed down looking unwontedly shamefaced and muttering something about there being time yet. At least right had prevailed that far.
Unable to follow his thoughts, Claudia could only guess at their intensity. ‘And so you protested.’
‘I made my feelings known, but that cut no ice. My father was adamant. He painted me such a picture of ruin and disgrace as would have done credit to Hogarth. In the end, my agreement to the match was what procured my army commission.’
Claudia nodded. She knew much of the tale already. Hearing Anthony’s side of things only reinforced what she had long suspected. Although she had misunderstood the direction of his anger, the conversation only served to reinforce the knowledge of his indifference towards her. It shouldn’t have hurt any more, and she was appalled to discover that it did.
Withdrawing her hands from his she forced a brittle smile. ‘Well, at least one of us was happy, then. It could have been so much worse, couldn’t it?’
‘It was bad enough for you, I think.’
‘I don’t want to talk about it, not now.’
He nodded. ‘I know it’s difficult; that you need time to think...’
‘I’ve had eight years to think, Anthony. Frankly, it’s enough.’ She rose from the couch. ‘Now I must ask you to excuse me. I have matters to attend to, and you must be tired after your journey. A room has been prepared for you. Walker will show you where.’
The Earl came to his feet as well. It was dismissal, for now. However, he had too much sense to protest. There would be time for discussion later.
‘Dinner is at six,’ she continued. ‘I’m afraid we don’t keep fashionable hours here.’
‘Until then, Claudia.’
She nodded and then walked away, conscious of the gaze burning into her back. He watched her open the door, throw it wide and keep on walking. She didn’t look back.
* * *
Having located his room and given Matthew instructions about unpacking the luggage, the Earl took a turn about the garden. Even after so many years’ absence it was achingly familiar, a green sanctuary after the tension in the house. Yet he had expected nothing else. Having spent time in Claudia’s company he had soon learned about her fiery nature. She had made it quite clear at their last meeting that she didn’t want to see him again, that she suspected his motives. Far from causing dismay it had rather pleased him that she should wish to sever all ties with the adventurer called Antoine Duval.
The time spent in London had allowed space to think about what he was going to do. A part of his brain told him to walk away and, if they had not spent those days together in France, he might have been able to do it. But they had spent the time together and things weren’t so simple now. He grimaced then, recognising an evasion. Even if France hadn’t happened, he knew very well that things wouldn’t have been simple at all, not after he’d set eyes on Claudia.
Chapter Six
He had half expected that she would refuse to appear for dinner that evening and keep to her room instead, so he was frankly surprised when she entered the drawing room just before six. He rose automatically and then caught his breath, letting his gaze travel the length of her. She was wearing an elegant evening gown of blue sarsenet, cut low in a tempting décolletage, offset by a spangled shawl carelessly draped about her bare shoulders. A sapphire necklace graced the slender column of her throat and matching stones adorned her ears.
His throat tightened. Somehow he found his voice.
‘You look beautiful.’
She inclined her head in acknowledgement of the compliment. ‘You are kind, my lord.’
‘So formal, Claudia?’
‘I am not like to be anything else.’
He sighed inwardly. Clearly she had no intention of making things easy. The impression lasted throughout dinner. Though her manners were impeccable and her behaviour correct in every way, she had retreated from him. It was, he knew, a defensive stance and one he understood. All the same he found himself missing her laughter and the lively banter of their former conversations. That had been a very different Claudia, far removed from the ice-cool beauty facing him now. Was this the face she showed to society or was there yet another, vivacious, teasing, possibly a little flirtatious? Whatever the truth it was intriguing; whatever face she chose to show was guaranteed to attract men in droves.
For no apparent reason the scene at Madame Renaud’s returned; half a dozen men whose leering glances were directed towards the bed and the naked woman beside him. His fingers tightened on the stem of his glass and he tossed off the r
emains of the wine. He and Claudia had a great many things to discuss.
Not wishing to make the servants party to their conversation, he waited until the meal was over and the two of them could retire to the privacy of the drawing room before broaching any intimate topics. He had no intention of making their relationship the subject of backstairs gossip.
* * *
In fact Claudia was glad of his discretion. The next hour was not likely to be comfortable, but it had to be faced and it was better to do it in private. All the same, being alone with this man was harder now than it had ever been. Although she could not read his thoughts or guess at his feelings, she sensed purpose beneath the outwardly cool manner. Assuming what she hoped was an expression of calm she sat down on the couch and waited. Whatever happened she must govern her anger this time; must remain in control. To do anything else would hand him further advantage and he had too many of those already.
She helped herself to tea from the tray that the servants had left. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the Earl pour himself a glass of brandy from the decanter, and then return to take the chair opposite. For a little while neither of them spoke. Claudia made no move to fill the silence but let it stretch out instead, putting the onus on him. In fact, he seemed very much at ease, a circumstance that did nothing to improve her mood. He took a sip from his glass and then set it down on the small table at his elbow.
‘So what now, Claudia?’
For some reason, the gentle tone was harder to deal with than arrogance. Collecting her wits, she made herself meet his eye. ‘I have already told you what I think. In the circumstances the best solution would be to have our marriage annulled.’
‘Would it?’
‘You know it would. Neither of us wanted this in the first place. We did it because there was no choice, but things are different now.’
‘Yes, they are.’
‘It was a business arrangement: money for a title. You can keep both if you will.’
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