The Caged Countess

by Joanna Fulford

  She laid a hand lightly on his sleeve. ‘Don’t worry. It will all be well. You’ll see.’

  He took a deep breath, hoping against hope that it might be true.

  * * *

  When Claudia arrived at her friends’ house two days later it was to find Sabrina in the garden. She greeted her visitor with a smile.

  ‘It’s such a glorious afternoon it seems a shame to waste it indoors so I thought we could have our tea out here.’

  ‘A very good idea.’

  A table had been laid in the shade of an old apple tree. A little further off a small child was sitting on a rug playing with a toy horse, under the watchful eye of his nurse. Claudia smiled.

  ‘What a lovely little boy.’

  ‘You mightn’t think so if you could see some of the things he gets up to,’ replied Sabrina.

  ‘Colonel Falconbridge must be a very proud father.’

  ‘Yes, he is. When John was born you’d have thought there had never been a baby in the world before. Robert was positively foolish. He spends all the time he can with the child. In fact he spoils the pair of us.’

  Her happiness was almost palpable, and while Claudia was glad for her, she was also envious. That she might one day have such a relationship with her own husband seemed a distant dream. She hadn’t realised till then how much she wanted it. Unwilling to go further down that road, she kept her attention on the child.

  ‘John looks so much like his father.’

  Sabrina grinned. ‘Oh, he’s Robert’s son in every way. A perfect little scamp.’

  ‘But you wouldn’t be without him?’

  ‘Gracious, no. I’m hoping he’ll have brothers and sisters, in time.’

  ‘Are you?’

  ‘Yes, I should like to have a large family.’

  Claudia took a deep breath. ‘I’m with child.’

  ‘Congratulations! That’s wonderful news.’

  ‘Anthony thinks so, and I suppose it is...only I...’

  Sabrina regarded her sympathetically. ‘You have mixed feelings?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘That’s perfectly natural.’

  ‘Is it? I don’t know. I should be pleased, and part of me is, but...’

  ‘Another part is dreading the event too?’

  ‘Why, yes. That’s it exactly.’

  Sabrina smiled gently. ‘Let’s sit down and have some tea. Then we’ll talk.’

  * * *

  The visit lasted so long that Claudia only just had time to get home and change for dinner, but her spirits felt lighter. While she could not entirely rid herself of fear, Sabrina’s quiet good sense had allayed it somewhat, and given her another perspective. Afterwards she had held the baby for a while and then played a little game with him. For the first time Claudia had imagined playing with her own child and found the idea strangely appealing. If only it were possible to have babies without all the business of giving birth. She sighed. Since that part was inevitable she was going to have to face it, but at least now there was someone she could talk to, someone who really understood. Anthony had been kind, but a man could never truly understand these things. While kindness was good, what she wanted even more was his love.

  * * *

  Dinner that evening went well enough. Feeling guilty for her earlier emotional outburst, Claudia exerted herself to be pleasant, keeping up a light flow of conversation. Anthony played his part in that, and then asked casually about her day.

  ‘Did you enjoy your visit with Sabrina this afternoon?’

  ‘Very much. She is such easy company.’

  ‘I’m glad you two are friends.’

  Claudia selected some grapes from the fruit bowl. ‘She and Robert are to attend the Duchess of Richmond’s ball next month so we shall see them there. It promises to be a great occasion.’

  He smiled. ‘Since it is only about two weeks away I imagine the subject of dress material came up.’

  ‘Amongst other things. Did you know that Wellington has promised to be there?’

  ‘So I believe.’

  ‘The guest list contains some of the greatest names in Europe. It will be the most sparkling event of the Season.’

  ‘I’m sure.’

  As Claudia chatted on he realised she wasn’t going to be drawn on the details of her meeting with Sabrina, and also that he had no right to ask or to try and force her confidence. While she looked better than she had before, he sensed so much that was still unspoken beneath the flow of words. She was making an effort and for that very reason the former easiness between them was missing. He found himself longing for some of the light banter they used to share, or even an argument where she would challenge his views about anything from politics to music. However, he kept up his part in the conversation until the meal ended and they retired to the salon. Unable to bear the thought of more polite conversation he went across to the pianoforte.

  ‘Will you play something for me?’

  ‘Yes, of course. What would you like to hear?’

  He riffled through the sheets of music and then drew one out, placing it on the stand while she sat down. Claudia settled herself to play, focusing on the music but aware of the man beside her to the last fibre of her being. It was a relief not to have to talk any more, to let the music do it instead.

  She followed it with several more pieces so that the next hour passed agreeably enough, and the hands of the clock crept round to ten. At length she stopped and rose from the piano stool.

  ‘That was lovely,’ he said. ‘You play well.’

  ‘Not so very well. You must have heard me fudging my way through the difficult bits.’

  ‘I heard nothing of the kind and my hearing is good.’

  ‘You are generous.’

  ‘Not in the least.’

  He took her hand in a gentle clasp and raised it to his lips. The touch burned. How much she wished that physical attraction might lead to something much stronger, to the kind of relationship that Sabrina had with Robert. Perhaps it might happen, one day. In the meantime she must rest content with kindness. She summoned a smile.

  ‘If you don’t mind, I’m going to retire. I...I feel a little tired.’

  He surveyed her in concern. ‘Forgive me. I was enjoying your company so much that I have been selfish.’

  ‘Never that, I think.’

  ‘Who is being generous now?’

  There was so much more he wanted to say but, if she was tired, now was not the right time. He escorted her to the foot of the stairs and then took her in his arms for a gentle kiss.

  ‘Goodnight then, Claudia. Sleep well.’

  ‘I believe I shall.’

  He watched until she was out of sight and then returned to the salon. Having poured himself a large measure of brandy from the decanter, he sipped it thoughtfully. Since in youth he had never been encouraged to divulge his feelings, he found it difficult to speak of what was in his heart. The revelation of her pregnancy filled him with unaccustomed sensations; joy, pride, anticipation and, if he were honest, nervousness too. Fatherhood was a huge responsibility and he wanted to do it well. No child of his would have the kind of upbringing that he’d endured. He also wanted to support Claudia in any way he could. He hoped that her talk with Sabrina might have done some good. Childbed was hard even when the woman was a willing participant in the event. The thought of Claudia in pain was bad enough, but frightened as well...His fingers tightened on the stem of the glass.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Claudia lay awake and stared into the darkness. However, it wasn’t blackness she saw but Anthony’s face when he bade her goodnight. Tenderness and concern were writ large there, and yet she had not said anything to reassure him. She should have shared the gist of her conversation with Sabrina, le
t him know that it had helped. After all, it had taken two to make a child in the first place; did he not deserve some measure of her confidence? She sighed. It was difficult to change the habit of years. She hadn’t confided openly to anyone apart from Henry. If he were here, what advice would he give?

  It didn’t take long for the answer to come back. Unable to leave things as they were, she climbed out of bed and padded across to the door. Opening it quietly she looked towards Anthony’s room. She hadn’t heard him come to bed and there was no light showing beneath the door. For several seconds she hesitated, then taking courage in both hands, walked along the corridor and knocked.

  ‘Anthony?’

  No sound issued from the room. Either he was asleep or else he didn’t want to talk just then. She turned away but had scarcely gone half a dozen paces before she saw the soft glow of candlelight at the end of the passageway. Her heartbeat accelerated dangerously.

  ‘Anthony.’

  He stopped a few feet away, his expression registering momentary surprise. ‘Claudia, what are you doing out here? It’s late.’

  She saw that he had removed his coat which was now slung casually across one shoulder. His neck cloth was undone too revealing part of his chest through the open shirt. The effect was unsettling.

  ‘I couldn’t sleep.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I wanted to talk to you.’

  ‘About what, sweetheart?’

  ‘I wanted to say that I’m sorry.’

  ‘For what?’

  ‘I talked to Sabrina today about babies and...well, the things that have been bothering me.’

  ‘Why should you be sorry for that?’

  ‘I’m not. It really helped to speak to someone who understood, and it made me feel better about everything. The reason I’m sorry is that I didn’t share it with you.’ She hesitated. ‘I knew that you were worried and I should have said something before.’

  The blue gaze never left her. ‘It doesn’t matter. Forget it.’

  ‘I can’t forget it. I didn’t mean to shut you out, and if it hurt you I’m sorry.’

  Seconds passed in which he neither moved nor spoke. She knew then that the apology was too little late and, heartsick, turned away towards her room.

  ‘Good night then, Anthony.’

  She had a swift impression of movement and then his arms were around her, pressing her gently to his breast. She shut her eyes and surrendered to the embrace, craving his strength and his warmth. For a little while, neither of them spoke. Then, when she thought her voice might be steady enough, she asked the question uppermost in her mind.

  ‘Can you forgive me?’

  ‘There’s nothing to forgive, and if your talk with Sabrina has helped then I’m glad of it.’ He looked into her face. ‘I never want you to be afraid.’

  ‘I think if you are with me that I won’t be.’

  ‘I’ll always be with you, darling. Never doubt it.’

  With that he bent and scooped her up, carrying her back into the bedroom. He put her back into bed and drew the covers over her. Then he undressed. She felt the mattress shift beneath his weight and his body, lean and hard, against hers, a solid and reassuring presence.

  ‘There’s no reason to be afraid, Claudia. Whatever comes, we’ll face it together.’ He smoothed the hair off her cheek. ‘In the meantime, it’s late and you need some rest.’

  ‘Anthony, I don’t mind...if you want...’

  ‘Hush. It’s all right. Go to sleep, darling.’

  He felt her turn on her side and moved with her, curling his body protectively round hers. Gradually he felt her relax, felt her snuggle closer with a little sigh of contentment and then, eventually, the slow steady rhythm of her breathing. He kissed her shoulder and closed his eyes. Then, at length, he slept too.

  * * *

  The Duchess of Richmond’s ball was one of the great events of the Season and the ballroom in the Rue de la Blanchisserie was crowded. As Claudia had predicted, everyone of note was there. She cast an eye over the assembled throng of handsome young men and pretty girls whose soft pastel dresses were a gentle contrast with the brilliant array of military uniforms, resplendent with gold lace and a multitude of orders and honours.

  Not content with having so exalted a guest list, their hostess had also arranged for some of the sergeants and men of the Gordon Highlanders to dance reels and strathspeys to their own pipe music. The spectacle drew a considerable crowd. Like her neighbours, Claudia was riveted.

  ‘It’s a stirring sight, isn’t it?’ said Lady Anne. ‘There’s something about the sight of handsome men in highland dress that sets the heart to beating a little faster.’

  ‘Yes, you’re right. They look magnificent.’ Claudia replied, thinking that these men also exuded an aura of hidden danger, as though the warrior was never completely concealed by the elegant costume he wore.

  ‘Did you know that Wellington had intended to hold a ball on the 15th as well?’ Lady Anne continued. ‘Only the Duchess sent off her invitations first.’

  Claudia grinned. ‘He cannot have been too offended since he has promised to be here.’

  ‘They are old friends and he took it in good part. He said it was his own fault for allowing her to steal a march on him.’

  ‘She should feel very proud. It’s not often that anyone manages to do that.’

  ‘No, indeed.’

  ‘Is the Duke here yet?’ asked Claudia.

  ‘No, he is not expected until later.’

  ‘I should so like to have the honour of meeting him, but I don’t suppose I shall. There will be a hundred others wanting to monopolise his attention.’

  Her friend sighed. ‘Yes, I fear there will. There have been so many rumours flying about that people will want the facts from him now.’

  As the Gordon Highlanders finished the guests drifted back through the anteroom to the ballroom. Originally it had been a coach house though no trace of that was evident now. Once plain walls were adorned with paper in a rose-trellis pattern, and banks of flowers filled the air with their scent, mingling with beeswax from hundreds of candles. The heat was considerable so the windows had been opened down the side of the room. The orchestra struck up a waltz.

  ‘I believe this dance is mine,’ said a voice at her shoulder.

  The sound of that voice thrilled through her and she turned to see Anthony there. She smiled up at him and wordlessly placed her fingers in his. And then his arms were around her and she gave herself up to the music and the moment, freeing her mind of everything except the two of them.

  ‘You look rapt in thought,’ he observed with a smile. ‘Dare I hope that any of those were about me?’

  ‘Fishing for compliments again, Anthony?’

  He laughed. ‘I should know better by now, shouldn’t I?’

  ‘Indeed.’

  Her expression just then was so reminiscent of the old Claudia that it gladdened his heart.

  ‘Am I to take it that they were not about me then?’ he asked.

  ‘By no means, but you cannot expect me to tell you what they were.’

  ‘If I had you alone I should find out soon enough.’

  ‘Oh? And how would you go about that?’

  ‘You do not imagine that I am about to divulge my methods?’

  Her lips quivered. ‘No, perhaps it is best you do not.’

  He realised how much he had missed this over the last few days; not only her smile and the mischievous gleam in her eyes, but also the light flirtatious banter that hinted at so much more. What he felt wasn’t just about physical attraction, but something far deeper and far more powerful, something he had been too afraid to admit to himself even though, with hindsight, it had been there since Paris.

  When the dance ended he kept her with him for two more, ignoring
the reproving looks that came their way. Claudia regarded him with mock severity.

  ‘I warned you before about this sort of behaviour.’

  ‘What sort of behaviour?’

  ‘You have already danced with me three times in succession.’

  ‘It’s about to become four,’ he replied. ‘I’ve missed too many dances with you. I’m making up for lost time.’

  Claudia shook her head but forbore to argue. In the first place it was a waste of breath and in the second any other partner would have been a flat disappointment after being with him.

  * * *

  It was gone midnight when the Duke arrived. His entrance caused a ripple of excitement that spread through the room, drawing all eyes his way. Claudia was no exception. She surveyed him with frank curiosity. Though he wasn’t a particularly tall man, he had a presence that was at once commanding and a little intimidating, and he carried himself with the cool assurance of a born leader. He wasn’t handsome but the aquiline nose and piercing blue eyes lent his face distinction. Once seen it was never forgotten.

  ‘I can see why men would follow him,’ she observed, as a small crowd gathered about the Duke.

  Anthony nodded. ‘He inspires that kind of trust, if not liking. Our allies respect him too.’

  ‘How could they not? His reputation goes before him. Follow Wellington and men know they march onto the pages of history.’

  He laughed. ‘I’m sure the Duke would be delighted by such a sentiment.’

  ‘Everyone is delighted with him. The room is positively buzzing with excitement.’

  Claudia looked around her at the knots of people whose animated expressions and lively conversation proclaimed the accuracy of the statement. Even the liveried servants went about their tasks with heads held higher and smiles on their faces.

  Thus it was the very stillness of the figure by the far wall that attracted her attention. His livery identified him as a servant, though at present he carried no tray. Her gaze took in a stocky frame of average height, and short brown hair, the same shade as the neatly trimmed beard and moustache. For some reason he looked familiar, though she couldn’t place him. She frowned, trying to remember. Like everyone else, the man was looking at the Duke, but unlike them he wasn’t smiling. Something about that intent stare caused the first stirring of unease. As she watched him, a snatch of earlier conversation came to mind: ...él....iminir...no, wait. The last vowel is an e...hastily written...Her heartbeat quickened. Eliminate Willi...Suddenly, and with awful clarity, she understood.