Lady Beneath the Veil Read online

  ‘In the basement.’

  ‘A twenty-minute walk, no doubt,’ she murmured.

  Gideon laughed.

  ‘Exactly!’

  They ascended the grand staircase to a wide landing. The house was built around a central courtyard and a series of windows allowed plenty of light into the upper rooms, which led one from the other. The drawing room was the first of these chambers to be entered.

  Even to one used to the grandeur of Martlesham Abbey, the drawing room was impressive. Ornately carved panelling covered every wall and the patterns were repeated in the plaster moulding on the ceiling. An elaborate stone chimneypiece dominated the room, the Albury coat of arms emblazoned at the centre of the overmantel. Dominique took in the faded grandeur of the room and the heavy, old-fashioned furniture as Gideon led her forwards to meet her host.

  Viscount Rotham had risen from a wooden armchair set on one side of the fireplace and now stood waiting to greet her. She dropped into a deep curtsy, but as she rose she looked up to study her father-in-law. The likeness between the viscount and his son was marked. Both were tall and lean, with the same finely sculpted lips and high cheekbones. Each had hazel eyes set beneath dark brows, but where Gideon wore his auburn hair unpowdered and just touching his collar, the viscount preferred the old style of a curled and powdered wig. He was dressed all in black, save for the narrow ruffles at his wrists and the linen at his neck.

  ‘Welcome, madam,’ he said politely. ‘Pray sit down. I trust the journey was not too onerous for you?’

  ‘Not at all, my lord. We made one stop overnight.’

  ‘Just one?’ Those dark brows rose and he bent his gaze upon Gideon. ‘Was that wise, my son? Another night would have given your wife more respite from the rigours of the road—’

  ‘But it was not at all necessary.’ She knew an urge to turn and run as two pairs of hazel eyes turned towards her in surprise, but she held her ground. ‘Your carriage is so well sprung, my lord, that the miles flew by. I am not at all fatigued, I assure you.’

  She was rewarded by a smile from Gideon as he guided her to a sofa, the only padded seat in the room.

  ‘Indeed, Father, we saw Dr Harris before we left town. He assured me that there was no danger in the journey.’

  ‘Nevertheless, I have ordered dinner to be put back, to give you both time to rest...’

  The exchanges continued, polite enough, a little stilted, but not unfriendly. Dominique mentioned this to Gideon when he escorted her to their apartments on the top floor and he concurred.

  ‘I am glad you were not intimidated,’ he continued. ‘Father’s style is a little formal, but he is perfectly kind, I assure you.’

  * * *

  She had to remind herself of this fact when they went down to dinner. It was served in the dining room, another grandiose chamber beyond the drawing room. The long table in the centre was set with all the pomp and formality one could desire. Only Dominique did not desire it.

  Conversation was almost non-existent, the food cold, and by the time Dominique returned to the empty drawing room while the gentlemen enjoyed their brandy she was beginning to long for the cosy comfort of Brook Street. Not one to repine, she spent the time alone tuning her harp, which had been set up in one corner of the room, where the big windows overlooked the gardens. She had completed her task and was gently strumming the strings when Gideon came in with his father.

  ‘Since there is no pianoforte here we brought Nicky’s harp with us.’ Gideon explained in response to his father’s look of surprise.

  ‘Indeed?’ The viscount’s response was cool.

  ‘I hope you do not object, my lord?’ asked Dominique quickly.

  ‘On the contrary. Gideon’s mother was musical, but when Gwendoline married I had the pianoforte sent to Fairlawns. However, it will be pleasant to have music at Rotham once more.’ He gave her a little bow. ‘This house has been too long without a mistress, madam. I should be honoured if you would take on that role.’

  ‘Th-thank you, my lord.’

  Gideon touched her arm. ‘Perhaps you will play for us now, Nicky.’

  She complied, happy to avoid the long, awkward silences that had accompanied their dinner. No tea tray had been ordered. When the clock struck eleven she excused herself and retired. She and Gideon had been allocated adjoining rooms, with a connecting door, and she was not displeased when Gideon knocked and entered a short time later.

  Dominique was sitting at her dressing table while Kitty unpinned her hair, but she dismissed her maid immediately. She was wearing only her nightgown and suddenly felt a little shy to be alone with her husband. To hide her embarrassment she kept her eyes on the mirror as she removed the last of the pins.

  ‘I think that went off very well,’ remarked Gideon, coming closer. ‘Father was very complimentary about you.’

  She was pleased, but could not resist asking him if all meals were taken in the dining room.

  ‘When Father is alone he dines in his room and his man, Warner, takes him his breakfast, too. It is the custom here for all guests to break their fast in their room. Kitty will bring yours to you in the morning.’

  The idea of sitting in bed with Gideon while he fed her tiny morsels of toast was very appealing—in fact, it sent a little shiver of excitement rippling through her—but that was something lovers might do and she and Gideon were not lovers. Instead, she knew she would be breaking her fast in a lonely state.

  Dominique dragged the brush through her hair, sitting tense and upright. Gideon walked up behind her and held out his hand.

  ‘May I?’ Silently she handed him the hairbrush. He said quietly, ‘I know everything is very new to you here, Nicky, but please be patient.’ He began to brush her hair, one lock at a time, but she had the impression that his thoughts were elsewhere. He said at last, ‘I have not been to Rotham since my quarrel with Father last December. For me to turn up now and with a wife whom I married without his knowledge or his blessing—’

  Her tension melted as the rhythmic brushing had its effect.

  ‘It is very hard for you both, I am sure.’ She glanced up at his image in the mirror, but his eyes were fixed upon her hair. ‘Does he know the truth about us?’

  ‘Yes. I told him the whole at the outset—not that any blame attaches to you,’ he said as she put her hands up to her burning cheeks. ‘I explained to him that I was in a raging fury because Martlesham and that little actress tricked me into marriage. It was all the fault of my wretched temper, which he understands only too well.’ He gave a small, twisted smile. ‘He is more likely to pity you than blame you.’

  ‘Which is as bad,’ she exclaimed. ‘I would not for the world have him feel sorry for me.’

  Gideon looked at the reflection in the mirror, observing the anguish in those enormous eyes, the flushed cheeks. His skin still tingled from the feel of her lustrous dark hair between his fingers. Putting down the brush, he placed his hands on her shoulders.

  ‘Was I wrong to marry you?’ he asked suddenly. ‘Was I wrong not to have the marriage annulled?’

  Her chin went up.

  ‘Yes. If you will not put the past behind you.’

  With a jolt he realised he had not been thinking of the past, merely of the mischief he had done to Nicky by holding her to the marriage. She put one hand on her stomach as she continued.

  ‘It is a little late to discuss this now.’ Her tone was prosaic. ‘You must do as I do and look forward.’

  She gave a little toss of her head, sending her silky hair flowing over his hands. A few dark tresses rippled down over her breasts, outlined beneath the thin linen of her nightgown. Desire stirred again. Whether by design or accident she was leaning back towards him and he turned away before she noticed his arousal—more importantly before his need of her became too great to be denied and
he carried her over to the bed and made love to her. He had to get away from her disturbing presence before he took advantage of her innocence. Before he put her at even more risk.

  He crossed to the adjoining door and with a curt goodnight he left her.

  * * *

  For a long time Dominique did not move. She had seen that now-familiar look in his eyes, reflected in the glass. At times she could almost think he desired her.

  Almost.

  When she had sent her hair tumbling down her back it had not been by accident, she had hoped it might evoke a response. His hands had tightened on her shoulders even as the desire leaped in his eyes. He was standing so close behind her that she only had to lean back a little to press herself against him and she had begun to do just that, only to have him rapidly move away. She smiled a little sadly. There was surely an attraction between them. It was not love, but it was a start.

  Stifling a sigh, she climbed into her lonely bed and pulled the covers over her. She would be a good wife and mother, she would make him proud of her and then, perhaps he might love her, just a little bit. Snuggling her cheek in her hand, she began to make her plans.

  * * *

  The first weeks at Rotham passed quickly enough. The viscount spent the greater part of each day locked in his study, reading or playing chess with Sir Edward Moorhouse, an elderly widower who lived nearby and called in occasionally. Gideon took his new wife to visit all the local families and the ladies in turn paid their visits to Rotham. When Dominique was not driving out or entertaining her visitors, she observed how the house was run and asked questions of Mrs Ellis, the housekeeper. At the end of the second week she made her first suggestion.

  They were sitting in the drawing room after dinner, Dominique at her harp while Gideon and his father played backgammon. When it was time to retire she rose and walked to the door, but before she opened it she turned towards them.

  ‘I have asked Colne to set up breakfast in the oak parlour tomorrow morning.’ Gideon’s brows rose, but she addressed the viscount, saying with a smile, ‘My lord, on my first night here you told me I might act as mistress at Rotham, so I hope you do not object?’

  ‘No, if you and Gideon wish to breakfast downstairs you are free to do so.’

  Dominique knew Gideon would declare that he was quite happy taking breakfast in his room. Quelling her nerves, she met his frowning gaze with a smile.

  ‘Thank you, my lord, that room is east-facing, ideal for the purpose, and so much easier for the staff than carrying trays up to the bedchambers. I hope you can be persuaded to join us there one morning.’

  She whisked herself away and prepared slowly for bed, half expecting Gideon to storm in and demand just what she was thinking of, changing arrangements that had stood at Rotham since time immemorial. However, she heard his step passing her door, and the sounds of him moving about in his own bedchamber, so she went to bed. She would discover in the morning if she was breakfasting alone.

  * * *

  ‘I decided I would not trouble Runcorn to bring breakfast up to me when everything is set out down here.’

  Colne had just brought the coffee pot into the oak parlour when Gideon appeared in the doorway. Dominique’s welcoming smile was tinged with relief.

  ‘Good morning, sir. There is everything you like— cold meat, boiled eggs, hot rolls in the chafing dish and even ale, should you want it.’ She added, as Gideon sat down at the table beside her and took a generous helping of ham, ‘I shall continue to invite your father to come downstairs to break his fast, too.’

  ‘You will be disappointed,’ he said, splitting a hot roll and filling it with butter. ‘My father is too set in his ways. He dislikes company in the mornings.’

  Dominique merely smiled, content to bide her time.

  * * *

  Soon her efforts were rewarded. She came downstairs one morning to find her father-in-law already at the table. They greeted each other politely, and even when Gideon joined them no reference was made to this change in the viscount’s habits.

  * * *

  Gideon was pleased to see his wife and his father getting on so well. His conscience pricked him a little at the thought that he would soon be leaving Nicky alone at Rotham and he was relieved that she was settling in. He told her so as they strolled in the gardens a little later that day.

  ‘You have made a great difference here,’ he said. ‘My father mentioned it to me last night. The whole place is brighter, somehow.’

  ‘That is because the wainscoting has been polished for the first time in years,’ she retorted. ‘It is surprising what a little beeswax can do.’

  ‘You are much braver than I,’ he replied. ‘I should have been afraid to mention it. Mrs Ellis is not one to take criticism kindly.’

  She chuckled. ‘I won her over with a supply of French barley and Jamaican pepper.’

  Gideon stopped and looked down at her, his eyes brimful of laughter.

  ‘So that is why you had to go shopping again before we left Brook Street. You were stocking up with bribes!’

  ‘Not bribes...’ she twinkled back at him ‘...merely a few treats to ease my path—oh!’

  She stopped.

  ‘What is it? Nicky? Are you well?’

  She looked up at him, a soft light shining in her eyes.

  ‘Yes,’ she breathed. ‘I felt the baby move.’ She took his hand and placed it on her stomach. ‘Wait.’

  They stood for a moment, surrounded by sunlight and birdsong.

  ‘Yes! Yes, I felt it, too.’ Gideon gave a delighted laugh. ‘My child.’ He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her gently. ‘At last it feels real. Is that the first time you have noticed it?’

  ‘I suspected it before, but it was never so certain.’

  ‘It is like a miracle.’ He tucked her arm in his again and they resumed their walk. ‘I would like to feel my child kicking every day.’

  ‘Then stay, at least a few more days.’

  Seeing her shy, hopeful smile, Gideon was sorely tempted, but he glanced up at that moment and saw the viscount at the drawing-room window. A lonely figure gazing down at them, reminding him of the perils of loving one’s wife too much.

  ‘You would soon grow tired of my company,’ he said lightly. ‘Besides, I promised Gwen I would look in upon her at Brighton. Then I have to set work in motion at Chalcots, if it is to be ready for you and the baby.’

  ‘Yes, of course.’

  Was that a sigh in her voice? She had schooled her face into a smile and began to talk on other subjects. It was for the best, he told himself. Time away from Nicky would be a good idea. He was growing far too fond of her.

  * * *

  Dominique knew she had erred. Gideon had withdrawn from her as soon as she had asked him to stay, the moment she had shown a weakness, a desire to cling to him. Pride came to her aid and helped her to hide her disappointment. She was his wife, the mother of his child, but he could not love her and she must not expect it.

  * * *

  Dominique’s sunny spirits had revived by the following morning and she stood at the door with the viscount to watch Gideon ride away. When they turned to go back into the house Lord Rotham held out his arm to her.

  ‘How am I to entertain you, my dear? I would not have you suffering from ennui.’

  ‘What with paying morning visits and receiving them, and the house to look after, I am well entertained, my lord.’

  ‘You must not overtire yourself,’ he said quickly.

  She laughed as she preceded him into the house.

  ‘I promise you I shall not do that. However, there is a little change I should like to propose.’

  Those hazel eyes, so like Gideon’s, held a wary smile. ‘Well, madam?’

  ‘I think we should dine in the br
eakfast room. With just the two of us it seems so silly to use the dining room. The servants have to carry everything twice as far and the table is so very long...’

  She thought for a moment he was going to refuse, but after regarding her soberly for a moment he turned and made his way across to his study, saying over his shoulder, ‘Whatever you think fit, my dear. Tell Colne to organise it.’

  * * *

  In an effort to keep herself from missing Gideon, Dominique threw herself into the running of the house. Her body was swelling and she was a little apprehensive, especially when she saw the viscount regarding her so anxiously, but she put her faith in Dr Bolton, who had told her she was perfectly healthy. Besides, there was far too much to do for her to take to her bed. She persuaded the viscount to allow the aged gardener to take on another boy, so that the shrubbery could be tidied up and the paths weeded. Inside the house she explored rooms that had been shut up for years, opening windows and ordering chimneys to be swept in readiness for the winter. She found trunks of material in the attics and used some of it to make cushions, which she scattered on the carved wooden chairs in the drawing room.

  Gradually, as summer wore on, the old house came alive under her care, and such was her tact that the servants were happy to oblige her, polishing and dusting and cleaning the rooms until Mrs Ellis declared that the old house was looking almost as good as it had done when Lady Rotham was alive. She also confided to Colne that the master was looking better for the company.

  ‘Aye,’ returned the butler, ‘he has even ordered the carriage tomorrow, to drive out with Mrs Albury. That will be the first time he has been further than the park for years, save to go to church on Sundays. Bringing the master out of himself, she is. She’s proving herself to be a godsend, Mrs Ellis, even if Master Gideon was hoaxed into marrying her.’

  The housekeeper wagged a finger at him, frowning.

  ‘I hold no truck with that rumour and I’ll thank you not to repeat it in front of the servants, Mr Colne.’

  ‘As if I would,’ he retorted, affronted. ‘But ’tis what Warner told me Master Gideon had written to his father. Tricked, he was, by the lady’s cousin, Lord Martlesham, and that wild set the young master used to run around with.’