Veiled in Blue (23 page)

Julius had ordered a couple of rooms for them to use in the hour it would take to switch between Alex’s coach and his. For the first time, Eve wondered why he had not had his coach sent to Alex’s house.

Her maid was not travelling with them. She had gone ahead and would meet them when they stopped for the night, so Eve had little to do.

When she decided to leave her room, a footman escorted her to the coach. He took her to a shiny black vehicle with glass windows that looked new. The door was already open, and the man helped her into it without comment. On the seat opposite sat a wicker basket. Four matched greys stood ready in the traces, stamping and huffing, obviously eager to be away, and a coachman sat up on the driver’s seat. He tipped his hat to her, but said nothing, eyeing her with a speculative air.

Eve sat back, feeling somewhat of a fraud. She did not belong in this magnificent vehicle. She had thought Alex’s carriage grand, but with its burgundy leather upholstery and shining accoutrements, this vehicle easily outshone it. She could not deny the seat she had taken was the most comfortable coach seat she had ever used. Surely the upholsterer had not used feathers in the construction?

While she was arranging her skirts, a stir on the other side of the yard caught her attention. She settled to watch. A man in a snowy white wig and cerulean blue coat laced with gold, the skirts stiff with buckram, had his back to her. He was waving and chattering to another man, whose mouth did not stop moving. The second man remained in her vision, as the first went out of sight, but she could still hear them.

They were speaking in French. She recognized that much, even though the rapidity of the exchange defeated her knowledge. She had thought herself conversant in the language. She had even taught it to uninterested schoolgirls, but perhaps she should rethink her ability to speak the language, as she could barely understand one word in three.

As far as she could gather, they were talking about clothes. The man facing her was volubly complaining about something, until the man she could no longer see ordered, “
Taisez-vous!
”

The rapped out command proved who was in charge of the order. The smaller man closed his mouth with a snap and finally the first man came into view.

Eve’s jaw dropped. Under that curled and pure white wig, wearing the magnificent gold-braided coat was her husband. He was also wearing an easy smile.

“Eve, may I introduce my valet? Lamaire speaks little English, although he has promised to learn.”

Eve blinked, closed her jaw, and tried for a smile. “Pleased to meet you.” The words sounded inane even to her own ears.

The valet swept her a bow. “
Enchanté,
my lady.” The last two words were so heavily accented, they were nearly incomprehensible.

Julius swung up and into the carriage. “Give the order to depart, Lamaire.”

The footman folded the stairs, closed the door, and with the trumpeting of the yard of tin, they were off. The vehicle barely jolted, but when they tilted to one side to sweep around the sharp corner out of the inn yard, Eve toppled over.

Right into the arms of the scented, powdered, beringed man she had seemingly married.

She stiffened as he carefully restored her to an upright position. He released her, and, with raised brows, sat back, crossing one long leg over the other. “You have questions.” He did not ask, he told her.

Of course she did. “Who are you?”

His blue eyes appeared even more brilliant than before. “Your husband, Julius Caesar Vernon.”

Julius Caesar?

He sighed. “The Earl of Winterton. Which makes you my countess.”

Shock speared her to her seat. “How can that be? Aren’t you a Cit?”

His mouth flattened, deepening the creases either side of it. “No, although I do have investments in the City.”

Rage simmered through her. It overflowed until she couldn’t think properly any more. She took a deep breath, and another. They didn’t help much, although she could finally speak. “Did you not think to tell me before we married?”

He reached for her hand. She forced herself to remain still, although she wanted to pull away. She let her hand remain in his. After all, he was her husband. He had the right to take her hand or anything else that took his fancy. She was his wife. She belonged to him.

Fool that she was, she’d given herself freely and without stint.

“I’m the same person, Eve,” he said softly.

What was she, a pet for him to tame? “You are, at least to yourself. But to me, you’re different. You’re an earl, someone so far away from my world I can’t even begin to reconcile myself to it.” Images flooded her mind, of a way of life she had never coveted. From now on she would become a public figure, fodder for the caricaturists and the writers of scurrilous newsletters. She would have to behave perfectly at all times, dress beautifully, be gracious.

She did not doubt him for a minute, because this vision of him suited him. He was comfortable in his fine clothes in his gracious carriage, at home as she would never be.

As her temper receded, appalled realization returned, and her mind started working again. “You will have to instruct me on everything. Everything.”

He squeezed her hand. “Not quite. In one sphere of life you are making more than satisfactory progress.”

Heat swamped her. “Intimate relations are completely out of the picture now.” How could she even consider sharing a bed with him ever again? “I don’t know you.” She contemplated the figure of the man she had married. He was exquisite, perfectly and expensively attired. “Why did you want to marry me?” Slowly a suspicion formed in her mind. Did he want someone he could control?

“Do you need to ask?” From the expression in his eyes, he meant the intimate part of their relationship.

He’d seduced her, then wed her under false pretenses. “Am I even your wife? I didn’t marry the Earl of Winterton. I married Julius Vernon.”

“Julius Caesar Vernon.” He gazed at her, sincerity in his eyes. “That is my name, the essence of who I am.”

But how could she trust him? The information he had given her was so earth-shaking she was having difficulty processing it.

She withdrew her hand. He let it go without resistance. Eve tried not to shrink back into the corner. With a desperation that tightened her throat, she longed to leave the coach at the next stop and not return. To go back to the miserable little house on the village green and molder in obscurity. Obscurity sounded really appealing right now. “You are a member of the aristocracy. You were brought up to fill a high station in life.” Her voice quavered, and she took a moment to control herself. “That is part of you. You cannot distance the man from the earl. You are both.” She closed her eyes and drew a deep breath. “I am neither. I can’t do this, Julius.”

Silence reigned. Eve kept her eyes closed, concentrating on regaining control over her senses. As always, his proximity affected her profoundly, calling to her in a way she would have found foreign to her nature until recently. Julius had done a good job of introducing her to the world of carnal passion, perhaps too good. She wanted to spend the rest of the day in his arms, to return to the way she felt about her marriage this morning.

But she could not. She would have to work hard to become what her new position required of her. She had no choice. Julius was right. She had married him and everything he was, which included the title he had not seen fit to disclose to her before now.

She made up her mind, opened her eyes, and met his. Anxiety rimmed them, the double crease between his brows deepening.

“I will be your countess.”

He nodded, but the worry did not dissipate. “And?”

“And I will bear your heirs. But I cannot do both right now. Give me time, Julius. I need to accustom myself to all this. I want to know so many things. I never do anything half-heartedly, and I will make you as good a countess as I can.” Anger still simmered deep inside her.

“In the fullness of time, you will be a duchess.”

She shook her head, resisting the temptation to bury her head in her hands. The enormity of the step appalled her. How could she cope with this?

Another suspicion crossed her mind. “Did my parentage have any bearing on your decision to persuade me to marry you?” Even now she ached. She loved him so much and hated herself for doing so. He had used her weakness to persuade her.

The carriage jolted over a rut in the road, and Eve lost her balance. Tipping forward, she landed in his arms. His hold tightened about her, cinched her tight, as if he could not bear to release her, but in the next moment, he righted her and restored her to her seat. She took her time arranging her skirts and regaining her self-control. That telling moment had ripped through her, removed everything except what they had meant to each other last night, before he had dropped the devastating news on her head.

Knowing the value of silence, she met his gaze and kept it, although it cost her a great deal to do so. She ached for him still, but she knew better than to reach for the moon. His lovemaking overwhelmed her, and she could not afford that distraction. Not until she was more sure of herself.

Silence fell, a taut, straining tension snapping between them. Eve waited.

Julius sighed and shrugged, the fine fabric of his coat moving with the powerful muscles she had felt under her hands last night. “I would not have come to Appleton if I did not receive word of your existence. After that, fate took a hand.”

“I don’t know if I believe in fate.”

“I did not until recently.” He made his meaning clear, hiding nothing.

How did he manage in the world, if he exposed his feelings in that way? Perhaps he did not have to consider it, being an earl, with all that entailed. The warmth in his eyes threatened to overwhelm her. But if she allowed him to do so, she would never find herself in this new, confusing life that had been thrust upon her.

“You have changed me, Eve. I want to be as good a husband as I can possibly be. I love you, Eve.”

Tearing her gaze away, she stared blindly out of the window, unable to look at him. “If you loved me, you would have told me.” How could she believe that now?

“I have every faith in you, madam.” His voice came coldly.

She ventured to turn her attention back to him.

The contrast between his openness a moment ago and his appearance now startled her. This man was an aristocrat, born to the purple, brought up to expect obedience from all his minions. And she was one.

He had enslaved her, and she could do nothing but go on with what would become of her life.

* * * *

Julius ached to reach for Eve, to hold her safe and reassure her. He would care for her and guide her in everything, should she wish it. He would move the world for her.

But he could do nothing, because he recognized the justice in what she was telling him. Eve would make a magnificent countess, but she needed to discover that for herself. He could not afford another wife who could not cope with the station in life he’d dragged her into.

Alex was right, although Julius hated to admit it. He should have told her before they married.

So why hadn’t he?

A chill came over him as the implications of his actions solidified. As the scenery passed the window, he forced his mind back to its customary iciness. Apart from his daughter and his sister and possibly Augustus, he kept himself separate from the world. He felt safer that way. Since Caroline had ripped his life apart, he had kept his existence in neatly defined compartments, not allowing his different worlds to interact.

Eve had charged into his life, ripping his preconceptions wide open. In truth, he barely gave her origins a thought once he’d lifted her on to the saddle of the nag he’d hired and mounted behind her. His concerns should have been to secure the daughter of the Old Pretender, who had the potential to seriously unbalance the stability of the country, not to make her his own. All other considerations had flown out of the window from the moment he had talked to her and she’d enchanted him.

They were passing through a village, the pretty exteriors of the cottages no indication of the squalor within, if the ones he had seen were any judge. The comparison with his life hit him hard. Now he had a wife he did not want to love, but his wayward emotions had dictated otherwise. He had a wife who resented him for the life he was dragging her into. He only had himself to blame.

Would he never learn? He had made mistakes before and determined never to repeat them. He had fulfilled that part, but he was still making mistakes. As a callow youth he had fallen for a woman who had “disaster” written all over her. He had indulged her, refused to take advice to treat her more firmly, to guide her more securely. Caroline’s volatility and their increasing separation had led directly to her death.

When he thought of the same fate falling on Eve, his blood ran cold in his veins. Despite the brightness of the day, he shivered. That, at least, would not happen again. He would do everything in his power to prevent it.

Even if it meant drawing away from her until she found her own way, he would do it.

Tension racked Eve as they approached the house she would have to learn to call home. At the two inns they had stayed at on their way here, they had slept in separate bedrooms. Fully cognizant of the identity of their distinguished guests, the innkeepers and servants had bowed obsequiously and eased the hardships of the journey.

Eve felt cocooned from the real world. So this was how the upper echelons of society could remain ignorant of the suffering of the poor and disadvantaged. Separated from real life, they would have to make an effort to keep in touch with affairs. Where she lived—or had lived—reality was forced down her throat most days, whether she wanted it or not.

Already she had gained a polish she was not comfortable with, but paradoxically found an easy shell to hide behind. She could sit in the carriage in close proximity to her husband, pretend to read or sleep and withdraw.

The ease appalled her.