The Earl's Untouched Bride (31 page)

'Very good, my lord.'

'And don't glare at me like that,' he advised Heloise. 'I have dealt with all the most pressing estate business, I have given my duty invitation to the neighbours to meet my Countess, and now I am entitled to enjoy my bride.'

Heloise let out one cry of vexation as Giddings turned, red-faced, from the room. First he had made it obvious to those two grinning footmen what they had spent the afternoon doing, and now he had scandalised Giddings with a statement of what he intended to spend the next few days doing. Where had all his rigidly correct behaviour gone, just when she could have done with it to spare her blushes?

Though in many ways she enjoyed his attention over the following week, just as much as he seemed to be enjoying hers, she never quite got rid of the feeling that it could not last. In desperation she grabbed what happiness she could, whilst privately waiting for the axe to fall.

It fell one morning while they were at breakfast, and Charles was reading one of the newspapers he had couriered up from London daily.

'My God,' he breathed, his eyes scanning the printed columns. 'There has been a battle.' Though he lowered the paper, it was as though he was looking straight through her. '
The
battle
—
the decisive battle. The losses have been disastrous.'

'Wh...who won?'

'Nobody.' His face was grim. 'The cost in human life was loo great to call it a victory for Wellington. The losses from Robert's regiment alone...' He appeared to pull himself together. 'I will have to return to London. He should not be alone to deal with this.'

She went cold inside. He was going back to London. Just as he had always planned.

She could not let him walk out of her life like this. Not without a tight! Before they had become lovers she had fled out into the gardens rather than humiliate herself by confessing he was the centre of her universe. But now the thought of trying to survive without him was even more unbearable than the prospect of begging for a tiny place in his life.

'Please,' she began hesitantly. 'Please let me come with you.'

She saw disbelief in his eyes, and her heart began to thunder. She was breaking the terms of their agreement.

'Yes, I know I promised I would never cause you any trouble. But really, truly, I will not get in your way. I might even be able to help you,' she argued in desperation. 'I managed to help Robert before when nobody else could! Surely I could be of more help in London than stuck down here in the middle of nowhere? Please, Charles, let me try. Let me come with you. Don't leave me here alone!'

'Leave you here?' Charles frowned. 'Why would I do that?'

'B...but that was why you brought me down here! Because I had become too much trouble in London...'

'Because you had been
having
too much trouble in London,' he corrected her. 'I hoped that by the time we returned we might have come to a better understanding. So that you would feel you could come to me when you were in a scrape.'

'You never planned to leave me here?' Her eyes filled with tears. 'Truly?'

'I have never lied to you, Heloise,' he replied sternly. 'I never will.'

'But you were so angry...'

'Yes, I was angry the day we travelled down here. But that was not your fault.'

'Oh, but it was. I promised I would never give you any trouble, and I was in such a tangle...'

'I hold myself responsible for that. I should have taken better care of you. I knew there would be people that would try to hurt you in order to score off me, and I did nothing to protect you. Can you forgive me?'

'F...forgive you? There is nothing to forgive!'

He felt shamed that she should take such a generous attitude. Most women who'd found themselves tied to such an unsatisfactory husband would have done nothing but complain. Some would even have taken a lover
—
for consolation if not revenge.

Yet she seemed to be poised for him to mete out punishments for the most trifling faults... He blinked, remembering the day she had first come to him with her proposal. She had assumed from the very first that he would find her so irritating he would end up beating her.

She had no idea of her own worth.

And as yet he had done nothing to demonstrate just how much he valued her.

But all that was about to change...

'Well, now we have that misapprehension cleared up, we should make all haste to leave. Both of us,' he said firmly.

She scurried from the breakfast room as though his remark contained some kind of threat. She was so ready to believe the worst of him, he sighed. Just as Robert had been.

She had declared she found him cold and proud and unapproachable.

It was true that he had an abhorrence of expressing his feelings, especially when they were as turbulent as the ones Heloise aroused in him. Fortunately, he had already taken steps to show his regard for her.

But it was not just his reserve or her own lack of self-esteem he had to counter. As he climbed into the carriage beside her, and caught the expression of trepidation on her face, it hit him afresh that her plea to return to London was not in any way due to a wish not to be parted from
him
.

She had only spoken of her desire to help Robert. And when he reflected how miserable she had been during her stay at Wycke, it was perhaps only natural she should want to return to the city. He frowned as the carriage rumbled through the lodge gates and out into the lane. Her dislike of the place was yet another hurdle he would have to overcome. For he had a duty to his tenants and neighbours to visit the place more than once each year. And he was not going to leave Heloise alone and unprotected in London while he dealt with estate business. Besides, his heirs would be born there. And he wanted them to grow up there. He could picture a brood of perhaps three or four, tumbling over their mother's lap under the shade of the yew tree on the south lawn. Heloise would be such a good mother
—
loving and loyal.

He reached for her hand abstractedly, raising it to his lips and kissing her fingers as he focussed on how he was to bring about a state in their marriage where she would look up and smile as he approached, rather than shrink from him in expectation of a scold, as she did now.

The regime at Wycke would have to change before they visited again. Of that he was certain. He did not know if he should go so far as dismissing Mrs Lanyon, but sadly he feared that might be necessary. She seemed to harbour some kind of grudge against Robert, and, though he had always appreciated her efficiency in the past, he now saw that she was singularly lacking in compassion. A kinder woman would have helped Heloise grow accustomed to her position, instead of increasing her feelings of inadequacy.

He had not been aware how long they had been sitting in silence until he heard Heloise sigh. It struck him forcibly that if it had been Robert sitting beside her she would no doubt have been chattering away merrily.

He turned to look at her, noting the dejected slump of her shoulders. Except for a few brief moments when she forgot herself, in his arms in bed, that air of sadness hung round her like a persistent mist.

He drew in a sharp breath, turning away from her to look out of his own window as he felt a stab of fear that he might never be able to totally lift it. Even if she grew content with what he could offer her, it would never be the grand passion she had so admired her sister for harbouring for that penniless young engraver. Her parents had eloped, too, setting love above their personal safety. Whatever understanding they eventually reached, would it always seem like a poor substitute for the real thing?

Well, he might never move her heart to any great degree but he could prove his solid worthiness.

He cleared his throat. 'When we return to London, things will not be between us as they were before.'

She turned to look at him, a little frown pleating her brow.

'There is no need to look so alarmed. It is your well-being that I am thinking of.'

He would need to deal with Lampton and Mrs Kenton in person before he could permit Heloise the same degree of freedom she had enjoyed before.

It was not just the personal vendetta the Lamptons held against him that might prove dangerous to her, either. After the losses incurred at Waterloo, there might well be some antagonism towards her simply because of her nationality. Until he had tested the waters for himself, and made sure she would be absolutely safe, he was not going to permit anyone anywhere near her.

Nor, to begin with, would he be free to escort her anywhere. The political map of Europe was going to change radically, if he was any judge of matters, and, while he had no intention of forcing Heloise to cross the Channel so that he could participate fully in negotiations, he could be busy laying the groundwork for those who would go in his stead.

'It might be a good idea if, just at first, you did not move about too much in society.'

Was there anything more annoying, she thought, than being told to act in a way she had already decided upon for herself? Why, it had been weeks since she had determined to be such a model wife that she would scarcely even venture out of doors! She knew she ought to be grateful that he was permitting her even a tiny place in his life, yet the longer he lectured her about what she was and was not permitted to do, and trotted out excuse after excuse for why he would be behaving much as he had done before, resentment began to smoulder inside her.

Charles noted that the nearer they drew towards London, rather than being reassured by his promises to take far better care of her than he had done before, she looked increasingly strained.

'Is something worrying you?' he eventually asked her.

Smiling determinedly to conceal her increasing feelings of resentment, she replied, 'Of course there is! I worry about Robert. It is for him that we return to London after all,' she reminded herself.

Charles was glad to get out of the carriage when at last it pulled up outside Walton House. He knew she was not in love with Robert, yet to hear of her concern for another man filled him with such unreasonable jealousy that it was all he could do to keep it leashed.

Heloise drooped into the house in his wake. He seemed so relieved the journey was finally over. Oh, he had tried manfully to be what he seemed to think she would want
—
holding her hand, forcing himself to make conversation to keep her amused. As though she was a child and he a rather stern guardian, pointing out that he was going to be busy with important matters of state, and she must behave herself until he had a few minutes to spare!

He surged into the house, making straight for Robert's rooms. Just before he reached his door, he turned, as though recalling her tiresome presence, and said, with an exasperated expression on his face, 'I think you should go up to your rooms, Lady Walton, while I see how my brother fares. I cannot say when I may join you.'

She lifted her chin as her heart sank even lower. 'Of course.' Whatever had made her hope he might appreciate having his silly little wife at his side? Or that she might be able to help him through this crisis? He just wanted her to keep out of his way.

'I will see to my unpacking. As long as Robert is being cared for, that is all that matters.'

He turned from her so swiftly she was sure he had already relegated her from his thoughts. As he pushed open Robert's door, she caught a glimpse of booted feet sprawled at ungainly angles, and empty bottles lying on the floor.

She caught her breath. She really was silly to feel slighted because Charles did not dance attendance on her when his beloved brother was going through such a terrible time.

Feeling slightly ashamed of herself, she went up to her rooms.

'There is a parcel for you, my lady,' said Sukey, as soon as she saw Heloise trail in.

Frowning, Heloise went to the bed, on which the flat, square package lay. She did not think she had any orders outstanding with the modiste. Wondering what it could be, she tore open the brown paper wrapping to find it was a leatherbound book.

She opened it at random, and gave a gasp of surprise. She was looking at one of her own sketches. Crossing to the desk by the window, she laid the book out flat and flipped through the pages.

'These are all mine!' she said to Sukey, who was peering over her shoulder. All the drawings she had left with Mr Ackermann were bound, here within these beautifully tooled leather covers. Just as though they were the work of a real artist.

She turned back to the very first page, and read the words: '
A collection of original watercolours, penned by the hand of Lady Heloise, beloved wife of Charles, 9th Earl of Walton
...'

Beloved wife? She ran a trembling finger over the printed words. This flowery language was not at all the kind of thing Charles would ever say, never mind cause to have written. He must have left the exact choice of words to the printer.

'Charles,' she whispered, wishing with all her heart that the words were true.

It was scarcely half an hour later that he came in and found her sitting on the bed, the book clasped in her arms and tears streaming down her face.