The Regency Season: Blackmailed Brides: The Scarlet Gown / Lady Beneath the Veil

Chapter Two

Lord Adversane insisted upon sending his luxurious carriage to carry Lucy to the north country. She had never travelled in such style, and as the elegant equipage bowled out of London she was forced to admit that there was something to be said for being betrothed to a rich man.

Two weeks had passed since that second visit to Mrs Killinghurst’s registry office. Lucy had signed her contract and stepped back into New Bond Street with a thick roll of banknotes in her reticule, her new employer requesting her to buy whatever was necessary for her journey to Adversane. He had also given her the name of a very exclusive modiste and told her she might order anything she wished and have it charged to his account.

Lucy had felt compelled to question this.

‘Forgive me, but if your wife is—that is, if you have been a widower for two years, will you still have an account?’

‘Oh, my wife never bought anything from Celeste.’

Lucy had blushed hotly at the implication of his careless response, and had immediately given him back his card. He had grinned at that, giving Lucy the unsettling feeling that he was teasing her.

‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘There is a very good dressmaker near Adversane who will provide you with everything you need for the duration of your stay. I shall arrange for her to call on you once you are settled in.’

Recalling the incident, she wondered again if she had been wise to accept employment with a stranger and in a house so far away from everyone and everything she knew. She had looked out her uncle’s copy of The New Peerage and learned that Ralph Adversane was the fifth baron, that he owned several properties, his principal seat being Adversane Hall, in Yorkshire. There was no mention of a wife, but she knew this edition of the Peerage was at least five years old, so presumably the marriage had taken place after that date.

Discreet enquiries of her family had brought forth very little information. Her aunt, who was an avid reader of the Court and Society pages, admitted she had heard of Lord Adversane, but it appeared he was an infrequent visitor to London, or at least, thought Lucy, to those circles that warranted a mention in the newspapers, even if he was well known in less respectable circles, whose ladies patronised a certain expensive modiste. She must therefore trust to Mrs Killinghurst’s assurance that she made thorough enquiries into the veracity of every client who came to her.

However, just as a precaution, Lucy had kept back some of the money Lord Adversane had given her and stitched it into the hem of her cloak. It was not a lot, but sufficient to pay for her journey back to London, and knowing that she had a means of escape should she need it, she now settled back against the comfortable squabs of the travelling carriage and prepared to enjoy herself.

* * *

Lord Adversane was waiting for her when she arrived at his country seat. He was dressed very much as she had last seen him, in blue coat and buckskins, and as the coach drew up on the sweeping drive he strode across to open the door and hand her down.

‘Welcome, Miss Halbrook. How was your journey?’

‘Extremely entertaining.’ Lucy gave a little gurgle of laughter at his look of surprise, her head still buzzing with the excitement of all the new sights and sounds she had experienced. ‘I have never before been farther north than Hertfordshire, you see, so it was an adventure. Of course, I doubt I would have enjoyed it so much if it had not been undertaken in a fast and comfortable vehicle, with your servants to take care of everything for me, and overnight stops arranged at the very best coaching inns. I am very grateful to you for your solicitude, my lord.’

‘I could do nothing less for my future wife.’

Lucy blushed, but quickly realised that his words were for the benefit of the servants, as was the kiss he bestowed upon her fingers. After all, if this charade was to work then everyone must believe it.

Collecting her thoughts, she stood for a moment looking up at the house. It was a very large building in the Jacobean style with stone transom and mullion windows set between diapered red brickwork. Her first impression was that it had a frowning aspect, but she put this down to the overcast day and the fact that they were standing on the drive and the house appeared to tower over them. Her eyes moved to the stone pediment above the entrance, which framed an intricately carved cartouche.

‘The Adversane coat of arms,’ he said, following her glance. ‘The house was built for the first Baron Adversane at the time of the Restoration.’

Still buzzing with the excitement of the journey, Lucy could not resist giving voice to a mischievous thought.

‘And will the shades of your illustrious ancestors approve of me?’

‘I have no idea. Shall we go in?’

Chastened by his stony retort, Lucy allowed him to escort her into the house. The butler was waiting for them in the entrance passage with a line of servants, all of whom bowed or curtseyed as Lord Adversane led her past them.

‘Byrne will not introduce them to you today,’ he said as he took her into the Great Hall. ‘You are here ostensibly as a guest, but of course they all know we are betrothed because I mentioned it to my cousin in front of the housekeeper. Come along and meet her. She is waiting in the drawing room.’

‘The housekeeper?’ asked Lucy, suddenly quite daunted by the grandeur of her surroundings.

‘My cousin, Mrs Dean.’

There was no mistaking the impatience in his voice, and Lucy gave herself a mental shake. It was too late now for second thoughts. She must concentrate upon her new role.

* * *

Ralph swore silently, ashamed of his own ill humour. Perhaps it was understandable that he should be on edge, knowing how important it was that the girl fulfil her role to perfection, but surely he did not need to be quite so serious? He gave an inward sigh. How long had it been since anyone had teased him? Even his sisters rarely did so now. Since Helene’s death they had treated him with more sympathy than he deserved. After all it was not as if he had loved his wife. He had cared for her, yes, but the strain of living with such a nervous, timid creature, of watching his every utterance, curbing every impatient remark, had taken its toll. He had forgotten what it was like to laugh...

He escorted Miss Halbrook into the drawing room where his cousin was busy filling a teapot from a spirit kettle.

‘Ah, there you are, Ralph. And this must be our guest.’ Ariadne carefully set down the teapot and came forwards to greet them. As she approached she fixed her rather myopic gaze upon Lucy, frowned a little then turned a puzzled look upon him. He spoke quickly, before she could voice her thoughts.

‘It is indeed, Cousin.’ He added quietly, ‘I thought it best to tell Mrs Dean the truth, Miss Halbrook. She will introduce you to everyone as a young friend who is spending a few weeks with her, but in reality everyone will believe that you are my fiancée, is that not so, Cousin?’

He was relieved to see Ariadne’s frown clear as she took Miss Halbrook’s hands.

Lucy. He must get used to calling her Lucy.

‘Oh, indeed. You know how quickly gossip spreads in the country, my dear. Now, before we go any further I should tell you that I am so pleased my cousin has asked me to help him with this.’

He smiled. ‘I persuaded Ariadne to leave her comfortable little house in Bath and join me for the summer.’

‘There is very little persuasion needed to bring me to Adversane, Cousin, and you know it.’ Mrs Dean chuckled. She pulled Lucy close and kissed her cheek. ‘Welcome, my dear. Ralph has indeed told me all about it, although I really do not see—but there, it will be a pleasure to have this house filled with people again.’

Lucy relaxed in the face of such a friendly welcome. Mrs Dean led her over to a sofa and gently pushed her down onto the seat, chattering all the time.

‘Now, my dear, I have prepared some tea, if you would like it. I find it very restorative after a long journey. You have come all the way from London, Ralph tells me—more than two hundred miles! You must be exhausted.’

‘In which case brandy might be more appropriate,’ put in Lord Adversane.

Lucy ignored him. He had snubbed her once already, so she would not risk responding to his remark.

‘Tea would be very welcome, Mrs Dean, thank you.’

‘Oh, do call me Ariadne, my dear. And I shall address you as Lucy, if you will allow me.’

‘Gladly.’ She glanced around to make sure they were alone. ‘Is it safe to talk in here?’

‘Perfectly, as long as we do not raise our voices.’ Lord Adversane poured himself a glass of brandy from the decanter on the sideboard and took a seat opposite the sofa. He said conversationally, ‘What do you want to talk about?’

‘I should have thought that was obvious,’ she retorted. ‘We have not had the opportunity to discuss my story. We will need to agree on the particulars, if I am to be at all convincing.’

He sat back in his chair and stretched out his legs, crossing one booted foot over the other.

‘It would be sensible to keep as close to the truth as possible. There is no need for false names or imaginary families. We met in London, but our betrothal has not yet been made public because you have been in mourning for your father—’

‘How do you know that?’

‘Mrs Killinghurst apprised me of all your details, naturally.’

‘Naturally.’ She eyed him with growing resentment. ‘You appear to know everything about me, my lord.’

‘Not everything, Miss Halbrook.’ There was a sardonic gleam in his hard, grey eyes as they rested upon her. So he was amusing himself at her expense, yet her light-hearted comments had met with a chilly rebuff. She put up her chin.

‘I know no more of you than I have been able to discover from The Peerage,’ she told him. ‘I am ill prepared for this role.’

He waved a dismissive hand. ‘We have three weeks before the first house guests arrive. Time enough to get to know one another. It will be my pleasure to tell you anything you wish to know.’

His very reasonable response made Lucy grind her teeth, but she swallowed her irritation and tried to match his cool tone.

‘Perhaps the first thing we need to ascertain is why my mother did not accompany me on this visit.’

‘If we are keeping to the truth, then you have not told her about me. She thinks you have been employed as companion to some elderly invalid, is that not correct?’

‘Well, well, yes, that is what we agreed I would tell her—’

‘And it gave you the excuse to remove yourself from your uncle’s unwelcome attentions.’

‘I never told Mrs Killinghurst that,’ Lucy retorted, her face flaming.

Mrs Dean gave a little tut and busied herself with the tea tray, but Lord Adversane merely shrugged.

‘It is the truth, is it not? I made a few enquiries of my own before engaging you, Miss Halbrook, and what I learned of Silas Edgeworth did not lead me to think he would be able to keep his hands off a pretty young girl living beneath his roof.’

‘Ralph, you are putting Miss Halbrook to the blush,’ Mrs Dean reprimanded him in her gentle way. She handed Lucy a cup of tea. ‘You may be sure there will be nothing like that going on at Adversane, my dear. My cousin may have hired you to prevent his family from importuning him, but his reasons for inviting me to act as your chaperone are to make sure that your stay here is not marred by any impropriety.’ She rose. ‘Now, if you will excuse me for a moment, I must go and check that your trunks have been carried upstairs and everything is as it should be.’

With a vague smile she bustled off, leaving Lucy alone with Lord Adversane. There was an uneasy silence as the door closed behind her. Lucy’s glance slid to her host.

‘I know,’ he said, a measure of understanding softening his hard eyes. ‘She tells you there will be no indecorum here, then promptly leaves us alone. I’m afraid you will have to accustom yourself to it. We are supposed to be engaged, you know.’

‘Yes, of course.’

‘If I have made you uncomfortable then I am sorry for it.’

His blunt apology surprised her. She put down her cup and, to cover her agitation, she raised her eyes to the fireplace. ‘The overmantel is very finely carved. Grinling Gibbons?’

‘Yes. My ancestor paid him the princely sum of forty pounds for it. Heaven knows what it would cost today.’

‘If you could find someone skilled enough to do it,’ she replied. ‘My father was an artist, but of course Mrs Killinghurst will have told you. He was a great admirer of the old masters like Gibbons.’

‘I am aware of that. And I knew your father.’ Her brows went up and he explained. ‘At Somerset House. It is the home of the Royal Society as well as the Royal Academy. We met there once or twice when I was attending lectures. My condolences for your loss.’

The words were spoken in a matter-of-fact tone, but Lucy felt the tears prickle at the back of her eyes. Rather than show any weakness she rose and went across to the window, where she stood looking out at the fine prospect, although she saw little of it, her thoughts going back to happier times.

‘Papa used to take me to his studio sometimes, and encourage me to try my hand at painting.’

‘There are many fine views at Adversane for you to capture.’

‘I brought my sketchbook with the intention of doing just that, but as for painting—I enjoy working in oils and watercolours but I do not have Papa’s gift. When I was a child I loved best to curl up in a chair and watch him at work. He had a passion for the picturesque. Vast, dramatic landscapes.’ She thought of the hills and valleys she had seen on her journey. How her father would have loved them. She gave a little shrug. ‘But everyone wanted portraits.’

‘From the work of your father’s I have seen he was very good and in demand.’

‘You wonder, then, why it is I need to earn a living.’ Lucy bit her lip. She had never spoken of this to anyone, but now felt a need to explain. ‘He drank to excess. And gambled. I only discovered the truth after his death. With his talent, the money he earned might have paid for one or other of those vices and still allowed him to provide for his family, but together...’

‘Disastrous,’ he said bluntly. ‘And your mother, did she—was it an arranged marriage?’

‘Yes. She had a large dowry. He was a younger son, you see, and needed to marry well. Unfortunately the settlements were badly drawn up and very little was secured upon her. The money was all spent years ago.’

The room seemed to grow a little darker. The cloud outside the window had thickened and a blustery wind agitated the trees, threatening rain. She turned and came back to the sofa, throwing off her melancholy to say brightly, ‘For all that they were very much in love.’

So much so that they united to keep me in ignorance of our poverty.

The swift, unbidden thought twisted like a knife in her ribs.

* * *

Ralph saw the sudden crease in her brow and the way she folded her arms across her stomach, as if to defend herself. But from what? Her parents’ happiness? Not all arranged marriages ended in love, as he knew to his cost. Bitterness made him reply more curtly than he intended.

‘They were very fortunate, then.’ Her eyes were upon him, questioning, but he did not wish to explain himself. He looked up with relief as the door opened. ‘And here is Ariadne returned. I take it the rooms are in readiness for our guest, Cousin?’ He rose, glad of the opportunity to get away. This young woman unsettled him. ‘If you will excuse me, I have business that requires my attention. Until dinnertime, Miss Halbrook.’

* * *

Mrs Dean escorted Lucy to her room, talking all the way. She was very knowledgeable about the house and by the time they reached the upper floor Lucy knew its history, including the improvements made by the fourth baron, Ralph’s father. Lucy let the lady’s chatter flow over her while she tried to take in the stunning beauty of the interior. Baroque carvings and plasterwork vied for her attention with dozens of magnificent paintings.

‘And here we are in the Long Gallery,’ said Mrs Dean, puffing slightly from having talked all the way up the stairs. ‘The principal bedchambers lead off the corridor just along here and at the end of the gallery is the passage to the east wing, where all the guests will be accommodated.’

‘I have never seen such splendid interiors,’ remarked Lucy. She stopped to watch two servants carefully hanging a large painting upon the far wall, while a third stood back and directed them as to the correct alignment. ‘Has Lord Adversane made a new purchase?’

‘No, no, it is not new. I suppose my cousin thought it would look better here.’

Lucy regarded the painting with some surprise. It was a dark and rather nondescript view of some classical ruins, and looked out of place amongst the portraits of past barons and their wives. Mrs Dean touched her arm.

‘Shall we go on?’ She led the way into a dim corridor running parallel to the gallery and threw open a door at one end. ‘The two main bedrooms are here. You will be occupying the mistress’s bedchamber—’

‘Oh, but I do not think I should!’

Lucy stopped in the doorway, but Mrs Dean urged her to enter.

‘Lord Adversane thought it necessary,’ she said, closing the door behind them. ‘If my cousin truly intended to make you his wife then this is the apartment he would choose for you.’

Lucy’s reluctance must have shown clearly on her face, for Mrs Dean smiled and patted her arm.

‘You need have no fear of impropriety, my dear. Believe me, Adversane was not at all happy about putting you in his wife’s room, but he knows it must be so, if his family are to believe he is serious about marrying you. There is a dressing room through that door where your maid will sleep—he has appointed one for you, of course. She has already unpacked your trunk, you see, and has probably gone off to fetch your hot water.’

Lucy made no further protest, and when Mrs Dean left her she wandered around the room, taking in her surroundings. The furniture was dark and heavy, the huge tester bed hung with faded brocade and while the walls were covered in a pretty Chinese wallpaper it was of no very recent date. In fact, there was nothing new in the room at all, and nothing to give any clue to the character of the last occupant. The brushes resting on the dressing table were Lucy’s and the linen press held only the meagre supply of clothes she had brought with her. All the other drawers and cupboards were quite empty. One part of her was relieved, for she would have felt even more of an impostor if the chamber had been redolent of the late Lady Adversane. As it was, there was nothing to say this was not a guest room, albeit a very grand one.

Knowing it would be sensible to rest before the dinner hour, Lucy stretched herself on the bed, determined to go over all the questions she wished to put to her host when they met again, but within a very few minutes she was sound asleep.

She awoke when the door to her room opened and a shy, breathless voice said, ‘Ooh, ma’am, I’m didn’t mean to disturb you, but Mrs Green says its time I brought up your hot water and made you ready to go down to dinner—’

‘That is quite all right.’ Lucy sat up, stretching. ‘You are to be my maid, I take it?’

‘Aye, ma’am—miss.’

‘And who is Mrs Green?’

‘The housekeeper, miss. She sent me up.’ The young girl put down the heavy jug on the wash stand and bobbed a curtsey. ‘And I am Ruthie, miss, if you please.’

‘Well, Ruthie, perhaps you would help me out of this gown.’ Lucy slid off the bed. ‘I am afraid it is sadly crumpled and not a little grubby. I have been travelling in it for days.’

‘I know, miss. From London,’ said Ruthie triumphantly as she unfastened Lucy’s travelling dress and laid it over a chair. ‘Everyone’s that pleased to see you. Mrs Green says the house has been too long without a mistress.’

‘Oh, but I am not—’

Lucy’s involuntary exclamation had the effect of making the maid jump back, her hands clasped nervously in front of her.

‘Ooh, miss, I’m that sorry, I forgot we wasn’t meant to say anything!’

Lucy gazed in some dismay at the maid’s woebegone face. So word had spread, just as Adversane had planned. She nodded and said gently, ‘Well, do not mention it again. Now, I think I saw my green gown in the press, perhaps you will lay that out for me.’

It was her only evening gown, a plain robe of French cambric with puff sleeves and a modest neckline. Lucy thought it would look very dull against the splendid interiors of the house, but it was all she had and it would have to do.

* * *

Lucy found her new maid very willing and eager to help. Ruthie carried away Lucy’s travelling gown and half-boots, promising to clean them up as good as new, then came hurrying back, determined to help Lucy to dress for dinner. Her enthusiasm was endearing, but Lucy was a little reluctant to let her do more than brush out her hair.

‘Oh, but I can do it, miss,’ said Ruthie, as Lucy sat before the looking glass. ‘Lady Adversane’s maid showed me how to dress hair in several styles. O’course that were a couple of years ago now, but I’m sure I can remember.’

Lucy glanced at the little clock. There was plenty of time to brush it all out and start again, if necessary.

‘Very well, let us see what you can do,’ she said, smiling. ‘All I wish this evening is for you to put it up in a simple knot.’

Ruthie’s face fell. ‘No ringlets, miss?’

‘No ringlets.’

The young maid looked a little disappointed, but she set about her task with a will.

‘You were training to be a lady’s maid?’ asked Lucy as Ruthie concentrated on unpinning and brushing out each shining lock.

‘Oh, aye, miss, I was. Lady Adversane’s maid broke her arm, you see, so Mrs Green sent me up to help her.’ She gave a gusty sigh. ‘Oh, my lady was so pretty, with her golden curls and blue, blue eyes, like the china doll they keep in the nursery! It was such a pleasure to dress her. I learned such a lot from Miss Crimplesham, too—that was my lady’s maid, you see—she was a tough old stick, and all the servants was a bit in awe of her, even Mrs Green, but she wasn’t so bad when you got to know her, and so devoted to my lady.’

She paused to look at the honey-brown curls that cascaded over Lucy’s shoulders. Lucy knew she should reprimand the maid for chattering, but she was amused by her artless talk and besides, for one accustomed to looking after herself, it was so very pleasant merely to sit quietly and have someone fuss over her.

‘I was hoping that my lady would give me a reference,’ Ruthie continued, beginning to gather up the heavy locks again. ‘So I could become a proper lady’s maid, but then of course there were that terrible accident.’

‘Accident?’ Lucy met her maid’s eyes in the mirror. ‘You mean Lady Adversane?’

‘Yes, miss. She fell to her death, from Druids Rock.’

‘Oh, heavens.’

Lucy had been wondering how Lady Adversane had died. She had decided she would ask Mrs Dean at some point, for she did not think she would be able to pluck up the courage to ask Lord Adversane.

She said slowly, ‘How tragic. When did it happen?’

‘Two years ago, on Midsummer’s Eve.’ Ruthie nodded, her eyes wide. ‘Oh, ’twas perfectly dreadful, miss! They found her the next morning, dashed to pieces at the foot of the crag. I thought they’d all blame me, at first, for letting her go out alone, You see, I’d fallen asleep in my chair waiting for her to come up to bed.’

‘I am sure it was in no way your fault,’ Lucy told her.