Anne Ashley, page 13
‘My apologies, madam, for my behaviour on the evening of our dinner party,’ he said, all at once appearing serious as he took the seat opposite. ‘That was ill done of me, I’ll grant you. And for more reasons than one,’ he admitted, instantly arousing her curiosity. ‘The only excuse I can offer is that our marriage having taken place in some haste, and being—er—somewhat unorthodox in nature, resulted in me temporarily forgetting my new responsibilities and role in life. I shall ensure it never occurs again. I also very much regret the manner of my departure to London. I should never have left without the common courtesy of at least having informed you of my intention to do so. Forgive me?’
Briony hardly knew how to respond. He had taken her completely unawares by the abject apology. Not only that—he had sounded so confoundedly sincere! But how on earth could she believe anything he said, knowing now what she did?
‘My apologies, too, for deserting you for so many hours on my first full day back here,’ he went on, when all she did was stare down into the contents of her glass, appearing precisely what she was—utterly dumbfounded. ‘I had several unavoidable errands to perform. Added to which, I unexpectedly ran into Miles Petersham on my travels and he invited me back to his place for luncheon.’
This brought her head up briefly, but long enough for him to detect a surprisingly speculative glint in her eyes. ‘Apparently he intends holding a large party at the end of the week.’ He continued watching her closely. ‘Seemingly his cousin is bringing her visit to an end and he proposes to give her a bit of a send-off. He apologised for the lack of formal invitation, only he’d heard I’d gone away and thought, perhaps, you wouldn’t wish to attend on your own.’
Although several startling possibilities had sprung to mind for this supposedly chance meeting with Miles Petersham, Briony knew it was imperative to continue behaving normally and not arouse his suspicions, if she was to stand the remotest chance of uncovering anything further concerning his night-time activities. He might be a devious wretch, untrustworthy and totally unprincipled, but he was no fool!
‘Lady Ashworth and I enjoyed many social evenings together in the company of neighbours and friends. One place we never ventured together was Petersham House,’ she willingly revealed in the hope of appearing quite natural under that ever-watchful masculine gaze. ‘I believe your aunt visited the house in bygone years when Lady Petersham was alive. I understand the place was for many years accounted the hub of social activities in these parts. Sadly Lord Petersham has grown increasingly reclusive since his wife’s demise.’ She could only hope that her speculative expression appeared genuine. ‘I wonder if his son intends to reinstate his home as the centre of social gatherings?’
Unexpectedly, a distinctly sinister smile twisted his mouth. ‘It might, indeed, be his intention…but I doubt he will succeed.’
The instant he raised his eyes and stared across at her again his expression changed. ‘By the by, I brought you some things back with me from London. I trust you find them to your taste. You might wish to don them for the Petersham party. They should serve very well. I had them placed in your chamber earlier, whilst you were out.’ Again his gaze grew piercingly direct. ‘No one seemed to know where you’d gone.’
Briony thought it might be prudent to change the subject here. She was ably assisted by the sound of the gong announcing luncheon was ready and hurriedly rose to her feet.
She honestly believed she’d succeeded in getting away with it this time and hadn’t aroused his suspicions, at least not unduly. She could only hope her luck held out in the future, for she had no intention of abandoning the idea of satisfying her curiosity where Luke was concerned. If this meant disappearing for hours at a time…then so be it!
* * *
After luncheon she took herself up to her bedchamber to discover a large oblong box on the bed. Removing the lid revealed the most beautiful evening gown of dark-red silk she had ever seen in her life. Matching gloves, silk shawl and slippers accompanied the dress, as well as an exquisitely painted black-and-red fan and a flat velvet-covered box.
Her breath caught in her throat as Briony flicked open the lid and her eyes fixed on the dazzling array of rubies and diamonds, beautifully fashioned into necklace, matching earrings and bracelet. Never in her entire life had she seen anything to equal the sparkling array. Not even her beloved godmother had owned anything quite so breathtakingly lovely. Instinct told her they were real and therefore worth an absolute fortune.
Rising from the bed, Briony went across to the window in time to see Luke, mounted on his favourite chestnut hack, trotting out of the driveway. Evidently his activities on this occasion could withstand close scrutiny, though just why he had quite failed to issue the invitation during luncheon for her to join him was anybody’s guess.
She sighed as she glanced across at the bed again, her eyes instinctively straying to the black velvet box. What in heaven’s name was Luke about, presenting her with such a gift? Clearly he wished her to don the gems for the forthcoming party at Petersham House, and she didn’t doubt for a moment that all present would be decked out in their finery. Even so, wasn’t Luke carrying his efforts to maintain the appearance of an adoring spouse a little too far? Or did he perhaps take it for granted that she would return the gems once the marriage was annulled? Of course she would, that went without saying. She would never dream of keeping them. Therefore, it would undoubtedly serve her better if she didn’t grow too attached to them in the meantime, she decided, closing the box with a determined snap and placing it in the lockable drawer in her dressing table for safe-keeping.
* * *
Briony had quickly discovered that out of sight didn’t necessarily mean out of mind. Time and again during the days that followed she had found herself taking out the velvet-covered box to stare in wonder at the precious stones. Yet, not once had she attempted to don them until the evening of the party. Nor had she made mention of them to anyone, including Luke, not even to thank him for the loan of them for the duration of their marriage. Try as she might, though, she couldn’t help wishing they were really hers when Janet finally fastened them round her throat for the very first time.
‘Oh, if only the old mistress could see you now!’ Janet exclaimed, her voice throbbing with emotion. ‘Never have you looked more regal, Miss Briony. Master Luke certainly knows what suits you, I’ll give him that!’ She cast a critical glance over the burgundy-coloured silk gown and shook her head in wonder. ‘The dress fits you perfectly. How on earth he judged your size so well, I’ll never know. He certainly didn’t come to me for advice, nor Alice neither.’
Although she smiled wryly, Briony refrained from remarking on the fact that her husband’s wide experience of the fair sex had probably served him well when making the purchase. The London modiste’s skill had seen to the rest, for it was undeniably beautifully made, as were the gown’s accessories.
She reached for the matching shawl and placed it carefully over her arm to wear later at the party, while allowing Janet to slip the black velvet evening cloak about her shoulders. After one last critical look at her overall appearance in the full-length mirror, she left her room and began her descent into the hall, where she caught sight of Luke, decked out in formal evening attire, awaiting her, not to mention an unusual number of servants hovering in various corners.
But it was Luke who held her attention. Never had she seen him in the apparel demanded of a gentleman if he wished to cross Almack’s hallowed portals and most every formal ball held in the capital. She still preferred to see him in his more casual riding garb, but was forced to own he looked remarkably striking in his knee breeches, white stockings and black pumps. Their eyes met and held; there was no mistaking the admiration mirrored in his own, but he refrained from saying anything until in the privacy of his carriage.
‘My compliments, madam,’ he said softly, staring fixedly at her as the carriage turned out of the gate and on to the open road. ‘I do not doubt the expressions of the innumerable servants I discovered hovering in the hall when I left my bedchamber were sufficient to assure you of your appearance.’
‘Janet considers I look very regal,’ she revealed, much moved by his understated compliment.
‘If regal has now become a euphemism for lovely, then I wholeheartedly agree,’ he murmured, staring fixedly at the lowermost gems, which almost touched the swell of her breasts.
This was going too far beyond the boundaries of her experience for Briony’s peace of mind. Oh, she knew she was well enough. She’d received admiring glances a-plenty from gentlemen since the day she had first put up her hair. But never before had she been the sole object of an experienced gentleman’s fulsome praise. She could tolerate his teasing and rare bouts of ill humour; she knew how to deal with those for the most part. But this out-and-out adulation, whether sincere or not, was as unexpected as it was unnerving.
Neither wishing to appear immaturely gauche, nor unduly flattered, she said, ‘If I look well tonight, then it is not to be wondered at, sir. Who could not look her best wearing such beautiful gems?’
He appeared satisfied with the response. ‘Ah! I’m pleased you like the set. You never said as much when you thanked me so prettily for the other things,’ he reminded her, much to her further discomfiture. ‘The ruby necklace belonged to my mother,’ he went on to explain. ‘It has been housed at my bank for several years. I sent instructions to have it cleaned a few weeks ago, and at the same time instructed Rundell & Bridge to fashion earrings and bracelet in the same style.’
Now that she realised he had entrusted her with something of such sentimental value, she felt so very much worse for never having remarked on the set before today. She might have acted with the very best of intentions, not wishing to appear enthusiastic or, worse, covetous of something that could never fully belong to her, but by so doing she must have appeared totally ungrateful for the loan of such beautiful gems.
‘You may be sure, sir, that I shall take the very best care of them whilst they’re in my charge, although I do think it would be safer all round if you were to continue housing them at the bank for most of the time.’
He looked at her strangely, frowningly, as though she had spoken a language quite beyond his understanding. ‘Let us be clear on one matter at least—the rubies belong to you, Briony, yours to do with as you wish. I have no intention of taking them from you now…or at any time in the future.’ Her total bewilderment was clear for anyone to see. ‘Look upon them as a groom’s wedding gift, belated though it has been, if it makes it easier for you to accept them.’
If she had felt bewildered before, she felt utterly stunned now, and remained so, hardly aware of just what she was uttering in response to Luke’s light-hearted conversation, until after they had arrived at their destination and she stepped inside Petersham House’s lofty hall for the very first time.
Although midsummer, she shuddered as she untied her velvet cloak and handed it to a waiting flunkey. Yet a far more disturbing tremor ran through her a moment later as Luke helped arrange her silk shawl about her shoulders and warm fingers made brief contact with that portion of bare flesh above her long evening gloves and below the ornately embroidered little cap sleeves of her gown.
Luke was not oblivious to the spontaneous reaction to his touch, but oddly enough felt not a whit disheartened by it. Unless he was much mistaken, it wasn’t revulsion she felt, but the awakening of sensual awareness; at least he hoped as much.
He smiled to himself as he escorted her up the wide and solidly built stone staircase, a structure that, in his opinion, added considerably to the Gothic mansion’s eerie and unwelcoming atmosphere. In truth, he had never liked the place, not even as a boy. To his way of thinking it was a monstrous edifice, set high on its promontory, totally ostentatious and totally lacking any architectural merit. He could only be extremely grateful that he wasn’t destined to inherit the unprepossessing pile himself and could quite understand why Miles Petersham spent so little time here as a rule.
No hint betraying his dislike of the place showed in his expression as he greeted their host with aplomb, though he was quite deliberately sparing in his exchange of pleasantries with the flighty young woman standing beside Miles Petersham, a circumstance that he strongly suspected did not go unnoticed by his exquisite companion; at least he sincerely hoped it had not.
The instant he had escorted Briony through to the large room where the party was taking place, he appreciated he was by no means the only red-blooded male present attracted by his wife’s looks. He witnessed several gentlemen casting openly desirous glances in her direction. Whether she had merely grown accustomed to receiving attention, or was quite oblivious to the fact that she aroused such adoration in a great many members of the opposite sex, Luke couldn’t have said with any degree of certainty. All the same, she didn’t appear to notice that she had become the cynosure of many pairs of masculine eyes.
‘Great heavens!’ she exclaimed, staring about in wonder. ‘There must be well over a hundred people here already.’
‘Nearer two, I shouldn’t wonder,’ he corrected, now having scanned the room himself.
‘You’re possibly right. I haven’t seen anyone I recognise yet. Why, half the county must be here, Luke! The Petershams certainly don’t believe in doing things by halves!’
‘Miles certainly doesn’t, at any rate,’ he agreed wryly, continuing to scan the throng for familiar faces. ‘Ah, look yonder!’ He gestured towards one corner of the room where a slender young man in a dark blue dress uniform stood quite alone. ‘Now what do you suppose induced our friend Miles to invite a Preventive officer to his party? One cannot imagine they have too much in common. He looks a little lost, poor fellow. I think it behoves me to bear him company for a short while.’
‘Do you really think you should?’ Briony had uttered the words before she realised just what she was saying. Luke’s night-time activities had rarely left her thoughts since her discovery of the secret tunnel leading to the lodge. She had strived not to let her imagination run wild, but the thought that Luke might be involved in something decidedly unsavoury had crossed her mind on more than one occasion, instantly turning her thoughts to the smuggling trade.
‘Tell me, my dear, is there any reason why I shouldn’t?’ Luke asked, eyebrows raised in evident surprise.
Was his bewilderment genuine, or was he merely playing some devious game in order to allay any suspicions? Where Luke was concerned it was always so difficult to judge. He must have been a wonderful asset to Wellesley, she decided. His expression rarely gave anything away.
She shrugged in an attempt to appear completely indifferent. ‘Naturally, you must do just as you please. But you’ll forgive me, I’m sure, if I decline to accompany you. I find Lieutenant Henshaw a trifle too stiff for my taste. Besides which, I’ve just spotted Lady Willoughby sitting over there with her daughter.’
Luke didn’t attempt to persuade her to remain at his side. He even went so far as to escort her across to the baronet’s wife and her gauche young daughter. He remained exchanging pleasantries until such time as Briony had comfortably settled herself on the chair beside Lady Willoughby, then made a beeline for the young lieutenant, who was clearly feeling out of place in his surroundings.
‘I’m surprised to find you here, Henshaw,’ he declared, arriving without being observed by his quarry and causing him to start visibly. ‘I wouldn’t have thought it was your thing at all.’
‘Quite right, sir, it isn’t,’ he admitted. ‘But it doesn’t do to offend the important families in one’s district.’
‘Besides which, one never knows just what one might discover on such occasions, when the wine is flowing freely and tongues become unguarded,’ Luke suggested with a wickedly knowing grin.
The young officer’s dark eyes narrowed as he shot Luke a considering look. ‘It is true the most unlikely people are involved in the trade, sir, as you are probably very well aware.’
Appearing completely untroubled, Luke continued to gaze about the room, picking out the odd familiar face among the ever-increasing throng. ‘I don’t doubt the truth of that for one minute. I would imagine there are a number here who would be happy to receive the odd keg of rum and brandy, and no questions asked. And one must never forget that the more privileged members of society are not always very generous employers and those labourers working the land for a pittance might willingly involve themselves in smuggling, if it meant they could afford a luxury or two for their families.’
The lieutenant’s expression hardened at the clear note of compassion in Luke’s voice. ‘I gain the distinct impression that you are sympathetic to their plight, sir. Well, I am not! The people I deal with are hard, ruthless men who would willingly slit their mother’s throat if it showed them a profit.’
‘You’re wrong, lad. Many are merciless, it’s true, but not all,’ Luke countered and once again found himself the recipient of a hard, penetrating gaze.
‘You sound as if you’ve experience in such things, Mr Kingsley.’
‘I was in the army, lad, for over half a decade. You cross those from all walks of life there. As Wellesley is wont to complain—his army is made up of the scaff and raff of humanity. And it would be true to say many of them are thieves and murdering rogues, but not all, by any means. I cannot help feeling that if hard-working men earned enough to feed their families, they wouldn’t then need to step beyond the law in order to put food in the bellies of their children.’
All at once there was a derisory twist to the Lieutenant’s mouth. ‘Unfortunately, sir, in my line of work such sentiments are not encouraged.’
‘Clearly not,’ Luke agreed, smiling to himself as he bowed his head in a brief farewell salute and moved away.
