‘I saw little of you, Paul. You spent a lot of time with Lady Waverley.’
‘Diana?’
‘Yes, Diana.’
‘I was being sociable—which is more than can be said of you.’
His deprecatory tone stirred Adeline’s ire. ‘Please explain what you mean by that.’
‘You really should try to be more outgoing, Adeline—more convivial. You spent the entire weekend with Frances Seymore to the exclusion of everyone else.’
‘Perhaps that was because my fiancé was too busy giving all his attention to someone else,’ she responded tersely. ‘I did notice.’
Paul was taken aback by the sharpness of her tone. ‘What’s come over you, Adeline? It isn’t like you to criticise.’
‘I’m not criticising. It’s just that you were with Diana for most of the time.’ She looked at him with an unusually defiant expression. ‘Are you carrying on an affair with her, Paul?’
His eyebrows shot up. ‘Now you are being ridiculous.’
Adeline looked at him direct, and he had the grace to look away. ‘Am I? I don’t think so.’
Her bosom rose and fell, and her eyes darkened with anger. Nothing was more sure to upset Paul than the discovery that he had been caught out in an indiscretion. It might be that it was merely one of those affairs that distracted men from time to time—a sudden appetite that once sated lost its hunger—and after being made love to by an experienced, incredibly handsome stranger, Adeline now knew what that hunger could do to a person.
She told herself not to torture herself about last night, and to further insulate herself against going mad decided to firmly put an end to her thoughts about him. But, feeling badly done by, she was out of sorts, and it gave her satisfaction to stand up to Paul for once.
‘I may have been tucked out of the way in a corner at Westwood Hall for most of the time, but I do have eyes—and so has everyone else. Don’t embarrass me, Paul—or my father.’
‘Really, Adeline,’ he snapped, shifting his position uneasily. ‘You read too much into my friendship with Diana. It is you I am to marry, after all. I am very fond of you, you know. You accuse me of neglecting you, but you could try showing me more affection.’
She merely looked at him. Her face was inscrutable. How could she show what she didn’t feel? The thought of all the days and nights of her life being so soft and impassive while he carried on one intrigue after another enraged her beyond measure.
‘Now, if you don’t mind, my dear,’ Paul said, unfolding his newspaper and beginning to scan the columns, ‘it is a subject I prefer not to discuss.’
Lowering her head, she looked at her book, but instead of the print she saw Diana as she had looked when she had come into the breakfast room earlier. So brazen, so self-assured and smug, Diana had settled her shrewd eyes on Adeline, trying to gauge the effect of her machinations—but to no avail. Having already decided to behave as if nothing untoward had happened, and keep Diana wondering, Adeline had smiled pleasantly, said good morning and hoped that she had slept well, and without giving Diana time to respond lowered her gaze and attacked her boiled egg.
She resumed her reading. Having always been conservative in her choice of authors, when others could have enlightened her more fully, she now told herself she was no longer ignorant of the ways of the world and men. Her two days at Westwood Hall had furthered her education in such a way that she would never feel the same again.
That same evening, Adeline and her father had finished their evening meal—eaten in silence for the main part—and retired to the drawing room. Adeline poured them each coffee. Her father never drank alcohol—he said it clouded the mind, loosened tongues and made fools of men, and following Adeline’s encounter with the handsome stranger at Westwood Hall she now realised how much sense there was to his words. The whole episode seemed unreal to her, and she looked back on what had happened with total disbelief, but nothing could take away the memory of what it had felt like, and she was discomfited by the warm rush of feeling that accompanied the memory.
Her father seemed quieter than usual, more subdued. He had presence, and he made himself felt by his temper and sharp tongue. He was both respected and feared by every member of his household, but Adeline had lost her fear of him. His temper no longer affected her, but she always felt duty bound, and would never disobey him.
With his stern grey eyebrows drawn together, Horace looked at his daughter. She was composed, but she looked different—older, a woman. Having been married to a beautiful, warm and giving woman, he was disappointed in Adeline. She managed his house as efficiently as a wife, but she had always been devoid of womanly attraction. He didn’t imagine that marriage to Paul Marlow would improve matters in that direction, but there was a change in her.
‘Have you enjoyed your weekend at Westwood Hall?’ he asked now.
‘Yes—it—was pleasant,’ Adeline replied hesitantly.
Horace nodded, not particularly interested, and didn’t ask her to enlarge on it. ‘We’ve been invited to spend a weekend at Oaklands—which isn’t far from Westwood Hall.’
‘Oaklands?’ Adeline put down her cup and stared at him. Not another weekend house party, surely?
‘Mr Grant Leighton’s place.’
‘Who is he? I do not believe I’ve heard of him.’
‘That’s hardly surprising,’ Horace said brusquely. ‘He came to see me recently—made me an offer for Rosehill.’
Adeline stared at him. His pronouncement rang a bell in her mind, and she recalled the conversation she had overheard between Diana Waverley and the gentleman in the library at Westwood Hall—the man who had later made love to her. But she didn’t put any importance on it just then.
‘He did? Why? I didn’t know you wanted to sell it.’ Her father wouldn’t have told her if he did anyway.
‘I don’t. I bought the house from his mother’s family—they hit on hard times and were forced to sell. Rosehill was in her family for generations and she has fond memories of the place. Somehow it’s leaked out that I’m moving out to live in London. She wants to buy it back. I refused Leighton’s offer, of course. I intend to make it over to you and Paul as a wedding present.’
Adeline stared at him. This was the first she’d heard about it. ‘Why, that’s extremely generous of you, Father.’
‘I want you to have it. I don’t need it—I’m always happier in town—but nor do I want to part with it. Besides, Paul will be looking for somewhere to live when you’re married. Can’t live with your in-laws. Wouldn’t be right.’
‘And Mr Leighton?’
‘He thinks that by inviting us to Oaklands he’ll get me to change my mind.’
‘And you won’t?’
‘Absolutely not. But it may prove to be an interesting and enjoyable weekend. I liked Grant Leighton. He’s got sound business sense and mature judgement, which brings confidence. You need confidence to run a business of any kind. Reminds me of myself when I was that age.’
‘Is it necessary for me to go?’
Obviously disappointed in her lack of enthusiasm, her father said irritably, ‘We are all invited. It would be discourteous of you not to come along.’
Adeline sighed, resigned to spending another interminable weekend in someone else’s house. Unfortunately there would be no Frances to help see her through. ‘Then I suppose I’d better go.’
The Leighton family had a long and distinguished history. It had been Grant’s great-grandfather who had bought the extensive Oaklands estate in Kent and settled his family there.
The original house, built in the mid-eighteenth century, had been old-fashioned and cumbersome, and he’d lost no time demolishing it and building anew. The present house was built in a restrained Italianate style, the main block long and two-storeyed. Its classical style, the simplicity of its form, the way it sat solidly in its own secluded woodlands of oak, beech, lime and yew, hiding the house from all unwanted views, and its formal gardens, drew admiration from all
who visited the house.
As the coach proceeded along the winding tree-lined drive, Adeline looked out of the window at the façade of the great house. She couldn’t help but be impressed. She fixed a smile on her face as servants rushed forward to assist the new arrivals, and they were shown into a memorable entrance hall—Mr Leighton’s impressive collection of Italian white marble sculpture, reflecting one of his abiding interests, standing out against the different-coloured marbled walls.
Suddenly a man appeared from one of the rooms and came striding across the hall to greet them. In Adeline’s mind a bell of recognition rang.
‘Mr Osborne! I’m delighted you could come.’
At the sound of his voice—the deep, well-modulated tones of a gentleman—Adeline stood stock still. Thunderstruck, she stood as one paralysed. Then she lowered her head blindly, her breath coming so rapidly she feared the lacings of her corset would burst. How dreadful! What a terrible thing to happen!
Ever since she had lain with him she had remembered what it had been like to wake up to his manly, shadowy form, standing tall and silent at the side of her bed, his furred chest and broad shoulders void of shirt. She’d had dreams about him—dreams about him kissing her, making love to her—dreams that made her wake up feeling hot and confused. She had thought never to meet this man again—the man she remembered her father telling her wanted to buy Rosehill. And here he was, taller and more elegant than she remembered, and ruggedly virile. And she had to spend two days in his house!
She could only stand and stare as Grant Leighton shook her father’s hand. For what seemed an eternity she waited, existing in a state of jarring tension, struggling to appear calm, clinging to her composure as if it were a barrier she could hide behind as, with dread, she waited to be introduced.
‘Allow me to present my daughter, Adeline. Paul you already know.’
Adeline was thankful the brim of her bonnet kept most of her face in shadow. If he was taken aback by her rather dour appearance he was too polite to show it. He stooped courteously over her hand and then, as if she were of no importance, turned to Paul and shook his hand.
‘Good to see you again, Paul. Glad you could come.’ Grant found Paul Marlow irritating, and didn’t particularly like him, but seeing as he was his invited guest he forced himself to be civil.
‘Your invitation surprised me,’ Horace commented.
Grant grinned broadly. ‘I knew it would. But I don’t give up easily.’
Horace gave one of his rare smiles. ‘I knew that from our meeting. How is your mother—forgiven me, I hope?’
‘Not a chance. She’s more determined than I am.’
‘Really? She strikes me as being a remarkable woman. I’d like to meet her.’
‘You will. She’s determined on it.’
‘And I am intrigued.’
‘Come—I care little for standing still. Come and sample my brandy.’
‘Tea will do. I don’t drink. Never touch the stuff.’
‘Then I’m sure Paul will appreciate it. I’ve invited just a few friends to stay. You may know them—or some of them.’ He turned to Adeline. ‘I’m sure you would like to freshen up after your journey, Miss Osborne. Your maid has already arrived—along with your father’s and Paul’s valets. Mrs Hayes, my housekeeper, will show you to your room,’ he said, with a gesture to indicate the hovering housekeeper.
Adeline couldn’t hide her face away any longer. Taking the bull by the horns, and fully expecting the worst, she lifted her head and turned the full force of her gaze on him. Recognition was instantaneous. She saw his reaction go from surprise to abject horror and cold, ruthless fury. His jaw clenched so tightly that a muscle began to throb in his cheek. Thankfully he had his back to her father and Paul, so they couldn’t see that anything was amiss.
Meeting his eyes in absolute complicity, she said quietly, ‘Thank you, Mr Leighton. I would like that.’ Bestowing a smile on Mrs Hayes, she moved away from him and followed her up the stairs.
Chapter Three
Adeline couldn’t believe this was happening. It was like reliving a nightmare, and trying to escape it was pointless.
As she followed Mrs Hayes her knees were shaking so violently she was afraid she’d fall. She tried desperately to keep her emotions under control so that she could think clearly. Little had she realised, when she had climbed back into that bed for a night of passion with a complete stranger, the consequences of her actions. She had been a naïve and gullible fool. Now she could not believe she had been so reckless.
The thought of going downstairs and having to behave as if everything was all right filled her with dread. She considered pleading illness, but that would be no good. It would only be putting off the moment. She had to face him sometime.
By the time she went downstairs some sanity had returned, but panic was heavily mixed with it. When she reached the hall she saw he was waiting for her in an open doorway, like a guard on sentry duty, his presence potent and powerful, undermining everything honourable she had ever thought about herself.
How she wished she could sink into the ground and disappear.
Attired in Norfolk jacket and tweed trousers, he had the stamp of implacable authority on his stern features. He really was the handsomest man she had ever seen, but there was no softness in the lean, harsh planes of his cheekbones, the long, aquiline nose and the implacable line of his jaw. He was every inch the aloof, elegant gentleman—the master of all he surveyed.
‘Miss Osborne—I would like a word with you in private, if you please.’
Encased in a tight ball of anguish, Adeline paused and looked at him. It was important that she remain calm. In tense silence she moved towards him. He stood aside, and when she had swept past him into the room he closed the door. She was in a library, but she took scant notice of the magnificent leather-bound tomes that lined the walls from floor to ceiling. It seemed like an eternity before he finally spoke.
‘Please sit down.’
‘I’ll stand, if you don’t mind.’ That way he wouldn’t seem so tall and intimidating.
‘As you wish. This is unfortunate, Miss Osborne.’
She faced him fully. In place of the cold animosity she had expected his tone was polite and impersonal, his features hard and implacable. ‘I agree. I had no idea who you were. If I had I would not have come.’
‘And if I had known who you were I would not have invited you.’
‘Well, you did. So we’ll just have to make the best of things, no matter how unpleasant the situation is for both of us.’
‘I agree. So if you are wise, Miss Osborne,’ Grant said in a chilling voice, ‘you will be careful to avoid me while you are in my house.’
‘I have every intention of doing so, Mr Leighton. Believe me, there is nothing that disagrees with me more than having to spend time with you.’
‘Then we understand each other perfectly.’ Looking at her now—dressed with a sobriety which bordered on the austere—he couldn’t believe that anything of an intimate nature had happened between them. With his hand behind his back he moved closer, his eyes like two shards of ice as they fastened on hers. ‘Now, listen to me very carefully and heed me well. One way or another we will get through this weekend, and when it is over you will leave here with no one any the wiser. We will not meet again.’
‘I sincerely hope not.’
‘In the meantime, to allay any suspicion, we will be polite and amiable towards each other. I hope that will not be too difficult.’
‘Contrary to your low opinion of me, I have no desire to see either of us disgraced. I shall try to be a good actress.’
‘I am certain that among your other brilliant talents is the ability to act. In fact when I recall your past performance I’m sure you will succeed admirably, Miss Osborne,’ he commented wryly.
‘And how can you know that when you had drunk yourself senseless, Mr Leighton?’ she countered, with biting sarcasm.
‘That, to my shame, I
cannot deny. I am not proud of myself. However, it will not be in either of our interests to let our sordid secret out. How do you think your fiancé would react,’ he taunted lightly, ‘if he were to learn of—what shall I call it?—your indiscretion?’
She was reluctant to speak of the matter in such a blatant manner, and embarrassment and anger brought a bright flush to Adeline’s cheeks. ‘I must confess that I really have no idea. But that is for me to worry about, not you.’
‘Then let us hope for both our sakes that Paul doesn’t find out. When you took it into your head to admit me into your bed instead of kicking me out—which is what I deserved—you placed us both in a difficult situation.’
Anger blazed hot and fierce in Adeline. ‘You really are the most loathsome, hypocritical, conceited man I have ever had the misfortune to meet. How dare you have the gall to criticise my behaviour? The fault lies with us both, so don’t you dare shift the blame onto me. I have tried to blame you, but my conscience refused to let me. If I am guilty then you are equally so,’ she declared wrathfully.
Grant raised a dark brow and considered her flushed cheeks, her green eyes sparking ire with icy arrogance. ‘What happened between us was unfortunate. I’m convinced you did not expect a proposal of marriage, financial gain and a life of luxury from what you did—so we will put it behind us.’
‘I am not interested in luxury,’ Adeline snapped.
‘Of course not. I realise your father is an extremely wealthy man. Although I have always harboured the delusion that all girls yearn to snare wealthy husbands, regardless of their upbringing and background.’
‘Plain and serious, and with no feminine appeal whatsoever, Mr Leighton, I am not like other girls.’
Wicked Pleasures Page 5