The Scarlet Gown Read online

  ‘Enough of this formality,’ declared Lady Wetherell, coming forward and kissing Lucy on the cheek. ‘You must call me Caroline, my dear, and my sister is Meg—or Margaret, which is what I call her when she has annoyed me! Now, Miss Lucy Halbrook, let me look at you. What persuaded you to agree to marry my brother? Did he bully you into it?’

  Lucy blinked at such a direct question and could only be thankful when Ralph answered for her.

  ‘My dear Caroline, how do you expect her to respond to such a question?’ He came forward and took Lucy’s hand. ‘I admit I had to work hard to persuade her to accept my offer, but I don’t think I bullied you, did I, my dear?’

  He was smiling down at her, the mischievous glint in his eyes inviting her to enjoy their shared secret. She found herself relaxing.

  I can do this.

  ‘No more than usual, my lord.’

  ‘Bravo,’ cried Lady Finch, putting her sister aside so that she, too, could greet Lucy with a kiss. ‘You must never be afraid to stand up to Ralph, my dear. His last wife was too complaisant for her own good.’

  Lucy froze. The room fell silent, and Sir Timothy murmured a quiet remonstrance to his wife, who looked around her, brows raised in surprise.

  ‘What have I said that isn’t common knowledge?’ She turned back to Lucy. ‘You will learn that we like plain speaking in this family.’

  ‘But not if it embarrasses Miss Halbrook,’ retorted Ralph.

  ‘Quite right,’ agreed Caroline. ‘Sit down, Meg, and give Miss Halbrook time to grow accustomed to us.’

  ‘And how are the children?’ asked Ariadne, as if to deflect attention from Lucy.

  ‘Oh, they are all healthy and ripe for a spree,’ replied Sir Timothy cheerfully. ‘We sent the boys off to stay with Caroline’s three young scamps.’

  ‘That’s good,’ said Ralph. ‘They can ruin Wetherell’s coverts and leave my birds in peace.’

  Mrs Dean shook her head at him. ‘Fie, Ralph, you know you love them all dearly.’

  ‘How many children do you have?’ asked Lucy.

  ‘Two fine young boys,’ replied Sir Timothy, pushing out his chest a little.

  ‘And Caro has two girls and a boy,’ declared Margaret. ‘Delightfully noisy and boisterous, thank heaven.’

  ‘Yes, they are, which is why we thought it would be quite unfair to subject Ralph’s future wife to such lively children until she was better acquainted with the rest of us.’ Caroline laughed. ‘They might well have scared her off!’

  * * *

  An hour later, when Mrs Dean suggested that they should all retire to change for dinner, Lucy’s head was reeling. She liked Caroline and Margaret very much and she enjoyed their lively banter, but it had not taken her long to realise that they were as strong-willed as their brother. She was about to follow them out of the room, but Ralph caught her hand and held her back.

  ‘Pray do not pay too much heed to my sisters,’ he said. ‘Do not let their chatter worry you.’

  ‘It doesn’t. I find them very entertaining.’ She chuckled. ‘Although I now understand completely why you want me here.’

  ‘You do?’ His swift, frowning look unsettled her, but it was gone in a moment. ‘Of course. You did not believe me, then, when I said I need protection?’

  ‘Having met your sisters, I think we may both need protection if they discover they have been deceived.’

  He pulled her hand onto his arm. ‘Then let me escort you upstairs to add credence to our story.’

  She walked with him across the hall and up the grand staircase, but when they reached the Long Gallery she deemed it time to protest.

  ‘Apart from a few servants in the hall, no one has seen us, my lord.’

  ‘Ralph,’ he reminded her. ‘And someone may come upon us at any time. We need practice, to make sure we always look at ease together.’

  She gave a little tut.

  ‘I mean, Ralph, that everyone is in their room. We have no audience, sir.’

  She freed her arm, but he caught her hand and held on to it as they entered the inner corridor leading to her bedchamber. With no windows on this passage the light was dim, and Lucy felt her pulse quickening. She stopped.

  ‘I do not think we need to continue this any further, my lord.’

  ‘No?’

  His softly spoken response made her heart flutter alarmingly, and she stepped away, only to find her back against the wall. She was dismayed to hear how unsteady her voice was when she replied to him.

  ‘There is no one here to impress with our charade.’

  ‘But as I said, we need to practise. It is really quite logical.’

  His free hand cupped her cheek, quite gently, but the shock of it held her motionless. She was unable to drag her gaze away from his face. Even in the dim light she noted how his eyes had darkened. He was lowering his head, he was going to kiss her and instead of making any effort to escape she ran her tongue over her lips, as if in preparation.

  Then his mouth was on hers. A gentle touch, nothing like the tumultuous kiss they had shared in the rain. She closed her eyes and a tremor ran through her, like a sigh for something long desired. Her lips parted under his gentle insistence, she felt his tongue invading, exploring, and a slow burn of excitement began deep inside, heating her blood. When he raised his head she almost groaned with disappointment. Her eyes flickered open and stared up at him, too dazed to move.

  His face was immobile, dark as stone in the deep shadow. He looked at her for a long, long moment. She cleared her throat, forcing herself to speak.

  ‘Ralph—’

  His hand was still cupping her face, and now he caressed her bottom lip with his thumb. Without thinking, she caught it between her teeth. Something flared in his eyes, something primeval, triumphant. She released him immediately, and he laughed softly as he drew away from her.

  ‘I was wrong. You need no practice.’

  As he turned away she forced out a few more words.

  ‘I—I don’t understand.’

  He stopped and looked back.

  ‘No, you wouldn’t.’ He spoke almost sadly, before adding in his usual brusque tone, ‘Tell Ariadne she is not to let you out of her sight!’

  * * *

  ‘Damn, damn, damn!’

  Ralph kicked the door closed behind him as he entered his room. He had made great efforts to keep away from Lucy Halbrook and allow her to forget that kiss in the garden. Not that he could forget it, for that encounter had shaken him badly. She unsettled him, which was why he had ripped up at her and then, knowing that his remark about her father had hurt her, he had wanted to make amends, only to find himself making a bad situation worse by taking her in his arms. Since then he had done his best to act with perfect decorum—apart from that midnight madness when he had taken her up onto the roof. His mind was diverted by the thought. She had been so delightful with the starlight shining in her eyes, and it had been a struggle not to succumb to temptation and kiss her, but he had behaved perfectly rationally.

  Ralph told himself he wanted her at Adversane because he needed her to play her part in the forthcoming house party, but the truth was he wanted her to stay for her own sake, because he found her company stimulating. The more he saw of Lucy the more he wanted her. He tried to fight it. During the day he busied himself with his work and he had made sure they only met when Ariadne was present in the evenings, but today he had again broken his own rule and allowed himself to be alone with her.

  And look at the result. His body was still tense with desire, and when he closed his eyes all he could see was her face upturned to his, those lustrous green eyes dark and inviting, the tip of her tongue flickering over those full, red lips.

  By heaven, how he wanted her!

  He absolved Lucy of all intent to seduce h
im. She was too innocent, completely unaware of her power over him. But for all that he found her presence intoxicating. A ragged laugh escaped him. If his sisters could see him behaving in this idiotic way they would have no difficulty believing the engagement was real.

  Ralph frowned. He was growing fond of Lucy and did not want to hurt her by raising hopes he had no intention of fulfilling. He had already decided he could not marry again. He would never risk making another woman as unhappy as Helene had been.

  ‘You are being foolishly conceited if you think she would even consider you as a husband,’ he muttered to his reflection as he struggled with the knot of his neck cloth. ‘She has already told you she does not even like you!’

  And the way she responded to your kiss? The demon in his head would not be silenced. How do you explain that?

  ‘Pure animal instinct. She had no idea of what she was doing. Hell and confound it, where is Kibble?’ He tugged savagely at the bell-pull to summon his valet.

  The restless mood would not leave him, and he strode to the window, leaning an arm on the frame and dropping his head against it. One thing was certain: when Lucy Halbrook did eventually find a suitor who pleased her, he would be a very, very lucky man.

  * * *

  Lucy kept one hand on the wall as she made her way back to her bedchamber. Her knees felt far too weak to support her, and her body still pulsed with an energy she did not understand. Ruthie bustled in from the dressing room, too excited with her own news to notice her mistress’s pallor.

  ‘Ooh, miss, I’m to sit with the ladies’ maids at dinner tonight. Imagine! Mrs Green says when the other guests arrive tomorrow, us ladies’ maids will have to have a table to ourselves. Was there ever anything like it?’

  ‘No, never.’ Lucy tried to be glad for her maid. ‘Help me out of this gown, Ruthie, then I think I shall lie down for a little while before I change for dinner.’

  ‘Yes, miss. Oh, and Mr Kibble passed on a message from his lordship. He says you are to wear the blue silk tonight, miss, with the silver stars.’

  ‘Yes, yes.’ Lucy stepped out of her robe and waved her maid away. ‘Hang that up, Ruthie, then come back in half an hour.’

  * * *

  Lucy crawled onto her bed and curled up, hugging herself. Such feelings she had experienced when he had kissed her. Such emotions had welled up. When she had first raised the idea of finding employment, her mother had warned her of the dangers that lurked in a gentleman’s household. She had told her how persuasive men could be, had explained something of the dangerous charms of a seducer, but Lucy had pictured then a leering, lecherous man like her Uncle Edgeworth. Mama had not told her that she must also beware of the treacherous longings of her own body.

  The mere memory of Ralph’s kiss made her writhe and hug herself even tighter. How would she be able to face him, to be in the same room with him, without wanting to touch him? She knew she would stare longingly at his mouth, desperate for him to kiss her again.

  All too soon Ruthie returned with a jug of hot water. Lucy managed to wash with tolerable calm, and she allowed her maid to help her into the high-waisted evening gown of midnight-blue embroidered with silver thread. As the skirts shimmered into place Lucy was reminded of standing on the roof with Ralph, gazing up at the blue-black vault of the night sky. She had felt such happiness then, with his hand resting upon her shoulder and his deep voice murmuring in her ear as he talked to her about the stars.

  ‘Miss, miss? Will you sit down, miss, so that I can dress your hair?’

  Lucy gave herself a mental shake and sank down on the stool before her mirror. She watched patiently as Ruthie caught her hair up in a blue ribbon and nestled little silver stars amongst her curls. She frowned.

  ‘I remember being fitted for the gown, but I cannot recall Mrs Sutton supplying the hair ornaments.’

  ‘No, miss, they belonged to Lady Adversane. It seems the master has kept them all this time. Fancy that!’

  Lucy stared in the mirror and a cold chill of reality began to trickle through her veins.

  ‘And this gown, Ruthie. Do you remember Lady Adversane wearing one similar?’

  ‘Of course, miss. She said she chose the midnight-blue to match her eyes.’ Ruthie gave a gay little laugh. ‘She was that beautiful, but of course the stars didn’t show up quite so well against her gold curls as they will in your darker ones.’

  If Ruthie meant this as a comfort it fell far short. Lucy stared at her reflection and felt something inside turning to stone. Ralph wanted her to look like Helene. It was his late wife he had imagined he was kissing earlier. He did not want her at all, merely someone who looked enough like Helene to arouse him.

  Lucy sank her teeth into her bottom lip to stop it from trembling. She wanted to sweep her arm across the dressing table, to send the pots and brushes and the rest of those exquisite little silver ornaments flying across the room. Instead, she folded her hands in her lap. This was what she was being paid for—to recreate the image of a dead woman.

  * * *

  The murmur of voices when she went downstairs to the drawing room told Lucy she was not the first, but that was what she had planned. She had deliberately left it as late as she dared to put in an appearance. As she entered the room a silence fell. Lord Wetherell raised his looking glass to stare at her. Sir Timothy goggled, and Margaret exclaimed, in her frank way, ‘Good God, she is just like Helene!’

  ‘Do you think so?’ murmured Ralph, coming towards her. ‘I do not see it.’

  He was smiling, and Lucy forced herself to smile back. She had no wish now to gaze at him adoringly, to think of his kiss. When he would have taken her hand, she moved away slightly and made her own way into the room. Caroline patted the seat beside her and smiled invitingly.

  ‘Everyone wears these styles and colours, Margaret. Leave the girl alone.’

  But Lucy saw the speculative glance Caroline threw at her brother.

  * * *

  Lucy discovered that playing a role was much easier than being herself. She existed only as Ralph’s fiancée; quiet, complaisant and totally without emotion. When Ralph escorted her in to dinner and asked her if she was all right, she smiled sweetly and told him she was very well. Conversation ebbed and flowed around her. After dinner the ladies retired to the drawing room, where Lucy recited without a blush the story she and Ralph had concocted about how and where they had met.

  ‘So it was love at first sight,’ said Margaret.

  ‘Not exactly.’

  ‘Well, I must say I was surprised to learn that Ralph had found himself another bride,’ remarked Caroline. ‘I thought Helene’s death had put him off marriage for ever.’

  ‘Did he...? Did he love her very much?’ Lucy thought it quite reasonable that a fiancée might ask the question of Ralph’s sisters.

  ‘I never thought so,’ replied Caroline frankly. ‘She was exquisitely beautiful, of course, but when one got past that she had very little else to recommend her.’

  ‘My dear, she was the sweetest girl,’ protested Ariadne.

  ‘Yes, the sweetest little nodcock.’

  ‘Well, I think we have only ourselves to blame that he married her,’ said Margaret, coming to sit on the other side of Lucy. ‘We urged Ralph to marry, and to please us he went to Harrogate, looking for a wife. Preston hurled the gel at his head and with her beauty it is hardly surprising that Ralph should fall head over heels in love and offer for her.’

  ‘And she bored him within a month of the ceremony,’ declared Caroline. ‘Whereas you, my dear...’ She turned and caught Lucy’s hands. ‘You have intelligence and a sharp wit, if I am not mistaken, that will keep a man interested for a lifetime.’

  Shocked out of her role, Lucy blushed.

  ‘How can you say so when you hardly know me?’

  ‘I knew it as soo
n as we met. You have a ready sense of the ridiculous and although you are no chatterbox, what you do say shows you have an active and enquiring mind.’

  ‘But many men do not want an intelligent wife, Caro,’ said Margaret. ‘The very thought frightens them.’

  ‘Not Lucy,’ cried her sister, smiling, ‘Who could be frightened of her?’

  Lucy laughed and disclaimed. How she would have liked to make real friends of these women, but it could not be. When the time came for her to jilt Ralph they would despise her, she knew it.

  ‘Let us have some music!’ cried Margaret, jumping up and going to the piano. ‘Do you play, Lucy?’

  ‘A little, but not that well.’

  ‘Then we are all evenly matched. Come along, there is some music here somewhere...’

  * * *

  When the gentlemen came in some time later they found all four ladies gathered about the piano, singing folk songs. Margaret immediately called across the room to them.

  ‘Ralph, your fiancée has the sweetest voice. Do come and join her in a duet.’

  Lucy forgot to be complaisant and said hurriedly, ‘Oh, no, I couldn’t—’

  ‘Do you mean to say you and Ralph have not sung together yet?’ Caroline caught Lucy’s hand to stop her running away. ‘Fie upon you, brother, isn’t it Shakespeare who says music is the food of love? Come and sing with her. Margaret shall play for you.’

  There was no avoiding it. The sisters shepherded Lucy into place beside Ralph, music was thrust into their hands, and Margaret began to play, while the others took their seats in eager expectation. A lively version of ‘Cherry Ripe’ was followed by ‘Early One Morning’. They were familiar songs, and Lucy soon lost her nervousness and enjoyed herself, her voice blending with Ralph’s powerful tenor to produce a wonderful sound that rang around the room. When they had finished their audience clapped enthusiastically.

  ‘Do you know, that was really rather splendid,’ declared Sir Timothy, beaming at them. ‘I think we shall enjoy some wonderful musical evenings here at Adversane in the future.’