Mesalliance (15 page)

‘No.’

‘Then what
possessed you? Or no. Don’t tell me. It had turned into farce and
you couldn’t resist playing along with it. But did you
have
to do something so – so final?’

‘Possibly not.
But it wasn’t completely irrevocable, you know. No one believed
that I meant it.’

‘Adeline
clearly did.’

‘No. She
laughed … rather more than was warranted, I thought … and then she
turned me down.’

‘She did?’
Amberley frowned a little. ‘Given her circumstances, that is not
just surprising but actually rather remarkable.’

‘I’m glad you
can see that,’ said Rockliffe idly. ‘She was still making
commendable efforts to make me withdraw my proposal the next
morning … and when I alluded to what I could offer her, she
basically said that getting her away from that house would be more
than enough.’

‘Ah.’ Seconds
stretched out in silence as Amberley considered the implications of
this. Then he said, ‘Obviously you overcame her resistance
eventually.’

‘Yes. It took a
little persuasion … but yes.’

The Marquis
hesitated again and then asked the question that had been in his
mind all along. ‘Are you in love with her?’

His Grace
leaned back in his chair and stared remotely into the burgundy
brightness of his glass.

‘I don’t
believe so. You will find that peculiar, I daresay … but it’s the
only answer I can give. She intrigues me and infuriates me and
occasionally arouses a protective instinct I didn’t know I had …
all of which is a far cry from my usual indifference. But I’ve not
yet been tempted to lay my heart at her feet – even though,
throughout every other emotion she inspires in me, there is
inevitably present one that is stronger than any of them.’

‘And that
is?’

Rockliffe
shrugged and a wry smile touched the corners of his mouth.

‘For your ears
only, Dominic?’

‘Naturally.’

‘Then … it’s
very simple and distressingly basic. I want her.’

Startled by
receiving such an honest reply, Amberley drew a long breath and
eyed his friend thoughtfully. ‘That can’t be new, surely?’

‘In itself, no
… in its degree, yes.’ The smile deepened a little. ‘A rakish
reputation, you see, rests solely on one’s ability to regard
love-making as no more than a delightful game.’

‘And you’re
saying you’ve lost that ability?’

‘No. Merely
that, with Adeline, it doesn’t seem to exist. And that, also, is
new.’

Searching the
hooded, dark eyes, the Marquis said, ‘I see. And may one ask how
she feels?’

‘Unless I’m
mistaken, she’s panicking over the prospect of becoming a duchess,’
replied Rockliffe with languid amusement. ‘But about me? I doubt
she knows. I am still entirely removed from her experience and I’ve
a feeling that she hasn’t yet decided whether I’m to be taken
seriously or not. I believe she suspects me of laughing at her. On
the other hand, my touch confuses her … and that is
encouraging.’

‘Only you could
think so,’ retorted his lordship before adding more thoughtfully,
‘However. Despite all this, she seems to trust you.’

‘Ah. Yes.’
Rockliffe again fell to contemplating his wine. ‘It does appear so,
doesn’t it?’

This was not
the answer Amberley had anticipated. He said, ‘You don’t think it
might be advisable to wait?’

‘Since I am
marrying her tomorrow – obviously not,’ came the mildly caustic
reply. Then, sighing a little, ‘Dominic … I am as aware as you
could possibly wish that I need to know her better. But things
being as they are, I shall have to marry her in order to do
it.’

An ironic gleam
lit the grey-green eyes.

‘I suppose you
realise that, at this point, anyone else would be smugly
understanding?’

‘Which is why –
had I been speaking to anyone else – I would have phrased it
differently. Or not at all.’

Amberley
acknowledged the point with a faint inclination of his head but it
was a long time before he said, ‘Will you allow me to observe that
you hardly appear to have a sound basis for matrimony?’

Rockliffe set
down his glass and came unhurriedly to his feet.

‘But I already
know that,’ he said gently.

The wedding of
Tracy Giles Wynstanton, fourth Duke of Rockliffe and Mistress
Adeline Mary Kendrick was celebrated very privately at St George’s,
Hanover Square and went off without a hitch. The groom, resplendent
in pearl-grey brocade with diamonds in his cravat and on the
buckles of his shoes, was accompanied by the most noble Marquis of
Amberley and exuded an air of lazy amusement throughout. The bride,
wearing an exquisitely-cut gown of ice-blue watered silk, lavishly
trimmed with pearls, was attended by Lady Elinor Wynstanton and
looked pale enough to satisfy the most exacting of critics. And the
Honourable Jack Ingram – arriving from deepest Sussex, breathless,
but in time to give the bride away – thought her the chilliest
creature he had ever met and wondered what could have ailed his
discriminating friend; until, that was, she turned and smiled at
him.

Back in St
James’ Square, Adeline awoke to the fact that she had a ring on her
finger and that the servants were suddenly addressing her as ‘your
Grace’. It was, she felt, the most unnerving experience of her
life. She looked at the cold collation that had been laid out in
their absence as a wedding breakfast and decided that she felt
sick.

‘If you’ve
changed your mind and would like to be rescued,’ murmured Rockliffe
helpfully, ‘Jack’s your man. Or would be, did he not suspect that I
might run him through.’

She looked at
him blankly.

‘And would
you?’

‘But of course!
What self-respecting bridegroom of less than an hour could do less?
Have some buttered crab.’

As a lover-like
overture or a move of predatory intent, this left something to be
desired. Adeline felt her tension ebb slightly and said,
‘
You
have some. I’m going to keep Nell away from the
port.’

On the far side
of the room a pair of grey eyes watched them thoughtfully. Like
Rockliffe and Amberley, Jack Ingram was also in his middle thirties
but cast in a less flamboyant mould. Brown-haired and of medium
height, his face was pleasant rather than handsome and his taste in
dress more for neatness than ostentation. But his friendship with
the other two was of many years standing and, just now, he was
concerned.

‘Why is he
doing this?’ he asked of Amberley. ‘Oh – it’s not that there’s
anything wrong with her! But she’s not exactly his usual type, is
she? And, more to the point, who
is
she? I can’t remember
ever hearing of any Kendricks … and the only thing Rock’s told me
is that it’s a Northumberland family.
Northumberland
! I ask
you!’

The Marquis
smiled apologetically.

‘Absolve me,
Jack. I don’t know anything about Northumberland. It’s true Rock
has estates in the north – but to my knowledge he hasn’t visited
them in years. And the idea that he’s been nourishing a
tendre
all this time is stretching credulity too far. Also,
from the little he’s told me, it would appear that he met the lady
quite recently.’

‘But why the
hurry?’ asked Jack, absently accepting another glass of Chambertin.
‘Why couldn’t he wait and have a proper wedding? Where are her
relatives? It stands to reason that she must have some. And if she
hasn’t – Rock has. Hundreds of them! Where, for example, is Lady
Grassmere?’

‘Presumably in
a state of blissful ignorance.’

‘And you don’t
find that peculiar?’

‘No. I wouldn’t
have wanted Lucilla at my wedding either,’ came the unhelpful
reply. And then, ‘Why so agitated, Jack? Can you remember a time
when Rock didn’t know what he was doing?’

‘Well, no. But
one can’t help wondering -- ’

His words
petered out as the Duke himself crossed to join them, his smile
mocking but not unfriendly. ‘Well, Jack? Have you come to any
conclusions?’

‘No,’ retorted
Mr Ingram. ‘I don’t know what the devil’s going on and Dominic
won’t tell me – though he seems to think there may be method in
your madness.’

‘How
comforting.’ Rockliffe looked at Amberley. ‘So what is causing that
expression of puzzled concentration?’

The Marquis
grinned and withdrew his gaze from Adeline.

‘If you must
know, I’m plagued by a sensation of having seen your bride – or
someone very like her – before.’

His Grace
surveyed him imperturbably and reached for his snuff-box.

‘Have you ever
visited the home of Sir Roland Franklin in Oxfordshire?’

‘Franklin? No.
I’ve never met the man.’

‘Then you have
never seen Adeline before. But you will both of you soon have the …
pleasure … of meeting Sir Roland’s daughters. They are – or were -
Nell’s dearest friends. They are also Adeline’s cousins.’

Light dawned on
Mr Ingram. ‘So that’s how you met her? Through Nell?’

‘It is indeed.
But I don’t think I shall weary you with the full story just now –
and, it would, in any case, be a pity to steal Harry Caversham’s
thunder. Ah.’ He paused, looking at Amberley. ‘Did I neglect to
mention that he was also one of the party?’

‘You know you
did. Who else did you forget to mention?’

Rockliffe
sighed. ‘Lewis Garfield and his appalling sister. Cecily.’

‘That,’ said
his lordship, recalling that the name Cecily had featured in the
story of the ball, ‘is unfortunate.’

‘Isn’t it?’

‘She’ll talk.
Or Lewis will. Either way, you won’t avoid some gossip.’

‘Gossip?’ asked
Mr Ingram. ‘About what? This sudden rush to the altar?’

‘Amongst other
things.’ The Duke smiled. ‘All will become clear to you in the
fullness of time, Jack – and I feel sure I may count on your
support, should the need arise. As sure, shall we say, as I am that
you will both do me the inestimable kindness of escorting Nell to
the play this evening.’

Mr Ingram and
the Marquis exchanged glances.

‘He wants a
favour,’ said Amberley. ‘We could force him to tell us
everything.’

‘We could,’
agreed Jack regretfully, ‘except that a man’s entitled to his
wedding-night.’

‘Dear Jack,’
murmured his Grace. ‘I knew I might rely on you.’

*

Adeline did not
know whether to be glad or sorry when she finally found herself
alone with her husband – for the constraint of having to mind her
tongue with his friends was immediately replaced by apprehension of
a different kind.

It was not, she
told herself, that she was ignorant of - or frightened by - what
marriage entailed. How could she be? She was twenty-four years old
and, she hoped, not a prude. No. What disturbed her was the thought
that, after tonight, her safe shores might forever be removed from
reach, leaving her out of her depth and with no straw to cling to.
She neither wanted nor was ready to love Rockliffe; but, knowing
what a mere kiss had done to her, she did not know if she would
still have a choice once she had lain in his arms. And that was the
crux of the matter.

‘Shall I change
my gown?’ she asked, as soon as the others had gone.

‘Why? You look
beautiful – and I doubt you will ever wear it again,’ replied
Rockliffe. ‘Or perhaps you were hoping to escape for a little
while.’

‘Not at all,’
she lied coolly. ‘Why should I?’

‘I can’t
imagine. But if you are not poised for flight, it would please me
if you felt able to sit down and take a glass of wine with me.’

There was not,
under the circumstances, any very satisfactory answer to this.
Adeline seated herself on a small sofa, accepted the glass he
offered and said politely, ‘Was there something you wanted to say
to me?’

He did not sit
beside her and it was a long time before he spoke. Finally, he said
slowly, ‘Yes. Why is it you never use my name?’

This was
unexpected. To gain time, she said, ‘Does anyone?’

‘That, my dear,
is immaterial. I asked why
you
do not.’

She shrugged.
‘Who am I to be different? Does it matter?’

‘Yes. I rather
think it does … but we won’t labour the point. Suffice it to say
that, though I’m aware it’s the fashion for wives to address their
spouses by their title, it’s not a fashion I care for.’ He leaned
negligently against the mantelpiece and continued to regard her
enigmatically. ‘On a more practical note, you will be pleased to
learn that Matthew has discovered a suitable maid for you and has
therefore instructed her to present herself for your approval
before we leave in the morning.’

‘
Leave
?’
echoed Adeline, jolted out of her
sangfroid
. ‘But we’ve only
just got here!’

‘Quite. And
tomorrow we leave for Kent and Wynstanton Priors. Nothing, I am
afraid, could induce me to remain in town through August.’

For a moment or
two, she eyed him with misgiving. Then, setting down her glass
untouched, she stood up and said, ‘I see. In that case, I should go
and attend to some packing.’

Rockliffe
smiled but refrained from pointing out that she need never again
perform such tasks with her own hands.

‘I think you
will find that everything has been properly taken care of –
including, one hopes, the removal of your things to the suite of
rooms traditionally occupied by the duchess.’

‘You’ve had my
clothes moved from one room to another just for
one night
?’
she asked incredulously. ‘Why? Or do you just like making extra
work for the servants?’

‘My servants,
since you ask, are well-paid, well-treated and, in general, not
exactly over-worked,’ he replied carelessly. ‘As for why … there
are three rooms known as the Duchess’s Suite – which now belong to
you. They also, of course, adjoin my own rooms.’ Beneath their
heavy lids, the dark eyes gleamed and he held out his hand to her.
‘I imagine you’d like to see them. Come, I’ll show you.’