by Laura Martin
‘I’m used to it,’ she said, trying to shrug off his concern. She should be used to it by now, should be stronger than this.
‘You shouldn’t have to be used to it.’
‘People aren’t going to change, become more sensitive, no matter how much I wish it. It is I who needs to change.’
‘No,’ Leo said, his fingers moving ever so subtly on her cheek. ‘Don’t change.’
She took a shuddering breath and looked up at him, feeling herself lost in the deep brown of his eyes.
‘You’re a beautiful woman, Annabelle, and anyone who can see only the scars is a fool.’
For a moment she felt beautiful, seeing herself reflected in his eyes, and then he stepped away, leaving her once again unkissed and again completely confused. When he offered her his arm she felt like screaming, like begging him to tell her exactly how he felt. Only a few hours earlier he’d been trying to keep her at arm’s length, then the afternoon had passed in such a fun, companionable time, and then there were the moments on the beach and again just now where she would swear he had looked at her as though he wanted to kiss her. But he hadn’t and now they were walking back in silence to the little cottage where they would share a bed, but not touch. Annabelle wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry.
Chapter Fourteen
Dear Josh,
Sometimes I wish I had your way with words. To be able to reassure Annabelle with just a sentence or two...that is powerful.
‘Lord Wilstow and his wife have invited us for dinner,’ Leo said, fingering the note and glancing up at Annabelle. She had been quiet since their brush with the young men who had looked at her with such horrified fascination, but he had been too lost in his own confusion to draw her out. He’d meant it when he’d said she was a beautiful woman. When he looked at her he barely saw the scars, he noticed instead the bright blue of her eyes, the curve of her lips as she smiled and the way the sun glinted off her hair making it look like molten gold. All throughout their acquaintance he’d been aware of those features, but suddenly it was as if he saw her for the first time. His body had reacted to her and he’d had the urge to pull her towards him and kiss her until neither of them knew where they were.
‘We should go. They’ve been so kind giving us the use of this cottage.’ He heard the trepidation in her voice and wondered what it would be like to always dread meeting new people. He wasn’t one to socialise a lot, but he never had to feel nervous about it when he did so. Wherever he went he was welcomed, people wanted to talk to him, to be part of his circle, more than he wanted often, but he didn’t worry about what people would say about him. He knew he was seen as serious and aloof, but that was how he portrayed himself, and he certainly didn’t mind being thought of that way.
Annabelle had spent years shut away at Birling View, first by her mother who was ashamed of having a daughter so scarred, and then by herself when she realised how cruel the world was to someone who didn’t look quite like everyone else. Gradually she was becoming more comfortable in his company, eschewing the veil most of the time if she thought it was just going to be the two of them. He wanted to make her feel comfortable enough in herself that she didn’t care what other people whispered behind their hands and could walk down the street with her head held high, ignoring the stares.
‘We don’t have to go if you don’t want to.’
She took a deep, shuddering breath and shook her head. ‘No, we should go. I’m sure it’ll be a pleasant evening.’
‘I don’t know his wife, but Wilstow is a good man. A kind man.’
She nodded and gave him a slightly forced smile.
‘They can give us some tips on what to do for the rest of the week.’ It surprised him that he wanted to stay for so long. He’d been non-committal initially on how long they were going to stay for, but he didn’t feel the need to rush back to Kent. With a shake of his head he marvelled how he was actually enjoying the honeymoon he’d never planned to take with the wife he’d never intended to spend any time with.
‘I’ll ride to Kimmeridge and get Michaels to deliver a note to Wilstow,’ he said. ‘Do you want me to bring your maid back here to help you get ready?’ They would be tight for time, but he didn’t want to rush her when she was clearly so nervous about going. If she wanted an hour with the maid, dressing her hair and choosing the perfect outfit, then he wasn’t about to take that from her.
‘No, I can get myself ready. I always used to help Beth when she was going to a dinner party or a dance.’
‘Did she help you?’
‘I never had occasion to need it.’
Leo regarded her for a moment, a ridiculous thought crossing his mind. ‘This isn’t the first time you’ve been invited for dinner, is it?’
‘Yes. I mean I went to London for Beth’s wedding, of course, and we had dinner there, but I’ve never been invited to dinner by anyone else.’
No wonder she looked so nervous.
‘You really never went out while you lived at Birling View.’
‘Not at all. I never left the confines of our estate save to take the track down to the nearest beach when I was younger to swim with Beth.’
He sat back in his chair and tapped his fingers on the arm.
‘We really don’t need to go if you would prefer.’
‘I’m your wife now. I am aware we will not be socialising together much going forward, but I am sure there will be a few occasions when I need to be able to comfortably converse with your friends.’
He hadn’t really considered it. The future seemed hazy and uncertain to him. When he had first had the idea to propose to Annabelle he had thought they would lead completely separate lives, interacting only every few months when he returned to Five Oaks. Now he didn’t have visions of them waltzing through London ballrooms together, but he was finding he enjoyed her company more than he ever thought possible. It wasn’t too hard to imagine spending companionable evenings with her sitting by the fire or mornings on horseback showing her the estates he ran for his great-uncle. His mind threw up a picture of more intimate pursuits, of lazy mornings spent in bed together and long afternoons under the covers.
Quickly he stood, forcing himself to think of something else, anything else. He was happy that he was becoming fond of his wife, that they could spend enjoyable time together, but he didn’t want to desire her and, more than that, he didn’t want to ever fall in love with her. He truly believed love was more trouble than it was worth. Everyone he had loved he’d lost and he knew he never wanted to experience the heartbreak of losing someone he loved again.
He had the urge to turn around and take Annabelle into his arms, to whisper that she would fit right in tonight. More than that—she would shine. Instead he clenched his fists to keep his arms by his sides and stepped away, moving to the table to pen a quick reply to Wilstow.
* * *
An hour and a half later Leo was sitting on the bench in the little cottage garden, enjoying the peace of the summer’s evening. The air was still, the silence complete except for the twittering of a few birds. He realised for the first time in a long time he felt content. He hadn’t thought of his great-uncle or his responsibilities for over a day which was a record for him—normally his duties of running the estates occupied at least part of his brain at all times. It was a beautiful evening and he felt at peace with the world.
‘Do I look acceptable?’
He hadn’t heard Annabelle come up behind him. She moved so quietly and gracefully he often didn’t know where she was by the sound of her footfall alone, but this time she had completely surprised him. Slowly he turned and allowed his eyes to rake over her.
His wife might not have attended many social events in the past, but she certainly knew how to dress correctly for the occasion. She had chosen a deep red silky dress with a delicate lace trim around the neckline and short sleeves. A simple necklace made up o
f a gold chain and a single pearl hung around her neck and she had matched it with pearl drop earrings. Her hair was swept back and pinned into place and instead of the veil he knew she wished she could hide behind she had pulled loose some strands and curled them so they bounced in front of her ear and obscured at least some of the scar on her left cheek.
‘You look more than acceptable. You look lovely, my dear.’
Annabelle was unable to stop her fingers drifting to her cheek, trying to cover the scarred skin, and Leo paused a moment and wondered what his wife’s life would have been like if that single incident, that single moment where she had climbed the shelves and pulled the vase on top of her, hadn’t happened. In all likelihood she wouldn’t be here with him, she probably would have had her debut with her sister and would be searching for a suitor to enrapture.
‘I wasn’t sure about a veil,’ she said, looking at him with a quiet pleading in her eyes.
Leo stepped towards her, aware he needed to handle this carefully. ‘You look lovely without the veil. I prefer you without it. I like to be able to look into your eyes and see you looking back at me. I like to see you smile and laugh and even frown—’ he paused, taking her hand ‘—but I do not want this evening to be uncomfortable for you. If you would prefer to wear a veil, then I would not begrudge you it.’
Silently she considered, her eyes searching his, seeming to check for the truth of his words.
‘I will leave it behind,’ she said, her fingers digging into his hand.
He was about to say something more, but at that moment the carriage arrived from Kimmeridge to take them to Lord and Lady Wilstow’s residence.
‘Shall we?’
Annabelle nodded nervously, not saying a word as they settled back on to the seats of the carriage and it moved away, their little cottage, their little sanctuary, disappearing from view.
Chapter Fifteen
Dear Beth,
You would be so proud of me, attending a dinner party all without the comfort of my veil. I do have to admit to curling my hair so that it hung carefully over one cheek...nevertheless it is progress!
Annabelle felt sick as they stepped out of the carriage twenty minutes later in front of a grand house with a pair of footmen in pristine livery welcoming them. Her hands were shaking and she felt as though she might bring up her lunch and embarrass herself even more. Carefully she arranged the curls that hung down over her cheek, wishing now she had brought the veil. She had felt it would be an embarrassment to Leo, but now she just wanted something to hide behind.
As the door opened she wondered how many ways she could make a fool of herself tonight. Leo had assured her it would only be them and Lord and Lady Wilstow in attendance, but she didn’t doubt the Wilstows had many friends and tales of Leonard Ashburton’s strange wife would soon reach the ears of the ton in London.
‘Ashburton, it’s been too long.’ A large, affable man grinned and he shook Leo’s hand with vigour. Annabelle warmed to him immediately, he had a friendly, open face and a smile that seemed to welcome you in. Beside him stood a petite woman, dwarfed by her husband and even smaller than Annabelle herself. She was strikingly beautiful with copper-red hair and perfectly symmetrical features. Her eyes though, unlike her husband’s, were cold and flicked over Annabelle as if assessing her, before freezing on the scars on Annabelle’s cheek.
‘Meet my darling wife,’ Lord Wilstow said, gripping Lady Wilstow about the shoulders and presenting her as if she were a fine piece of art for their appreciation.
Leo bowed over her hand and murmured a greeting and Annabelle caught a glimpse of the man her husband must be in society. She knew he preferred the quiet life in Kent, but he did attend the balls and dinner parties in London. He knew how to greet people, how to behave, it was as natural to him as riding a horse. Suddenly she felt very unrefined.
‘May I introduce my new wife, Lady Annabelle.’
Lady Wilstow’s eyebrows shot up on hearing Annabelle’s title. Lord Wilstow was less perturbed and took Annabelle’s hand in his own as if they were old friends.
‘Delighted to meet you, Lady Annabelle. We never thought Ashburton would ever settle down, it is wonderful to meet the woman who persuaded him.’ As Lord Wilstow pulled her into the house and out of the shadows he caught sight of her scars. ‘Good Lord, what happened to your face, my dear?’
Annabelle froze, her mind completely blank, her tongue feeling as though it were attached to a heavy weight, unable to move. She felt her cheeks start to redden and knew with horror soon her blush would make the scars look even more angry just as everyone was looking at them.
‘A childhood accident,’ Leo said brusquely, ‘Nothing more. Now, are you going to show me this house of yours?’
Surreptitiously Leo gave her a squeeze on the arm as he passed and Annabelle felt herself relax just a little as if he had grounded her.
‘Why don’t we leave our husbands to catch up?’ Lady Wilstow said, her voice sweet and syrupy, but still there was the coldness in her eyes. ‘Come through to the drawing room, dinner will be about twenty minutes, we can get to know one another in the meantime.’
Annabelle forced herself not to reach out and grab Leo, not to look at him with pleading in her eyes. She was now a wife, not just a recluse, and she would have to get used to people close up. She felt Lady Wilstow seemed aloof and was sure she had glimpsed a cruel streak, but she was very aware she didn’t have anything to set a standard of behaviour by. Perhaps all wives of the ton acted like Lady Wilstow, perhaps it was expected of them. Feeling completely out of her depth, Annabelle allowed her new companion to lead her into the drawing room.
It was still light outside and as yet the candles hadn’t been lit. The drawing room was opulent without being garish and Annabelle had to admit it was a comfortable room to be in. The chairs were upholstered in creamy white material, contrasting beautifully with the golden gilt frames dotted around the room and the golden fixtures. Glass doors were thrown open, giving unparalleled views of a neat garden and a glimpse of the sea beyond that. It was a beautiful house in a beautiful position.
As she sat Annabelle felt her body shift without her thinking so her scarred cheek was turned away from Lady Wilstow.
‘You have a lovely house, Lady Wilstow.’ It seemed as safe a subject as any and she hoped they might be able to keep on such mundane topics until Leo and Lord Wilstow reappeared.
‘Thank you, Lady Annabelle. It was in such a state when I first arrived, I’ve spent years on updating the decor to something more modern, something more tasteful. Lord Wilstow is a darling man, but he had no idea about how to decorate a house.’ Lady Wilstow’s lip curled as she leaned forward to confide this last piece of information. ‘Of course I much prefer to spend my time in London, but Lord Wilstow insists we spend at least some of the summer months in the country and it isn’t as though there is much going on in the capital at this time of year.’ She cocked her head and regarded Annabelle for a moment. ‘What are your plans for the upcoming Season? Will you be in London?’
Annabelle hesitated for just a moment, but she could tell Lady Wilstow picked up on her uncertainty. ‘We haven’t finalised our plans yet.’
‘Of course, a lot of husbands do go to London without their wives, you shouldn’t feel too bad about it.’
‘Mr Ashburton prefers country life,’ Annabelle said, looking down at her hands, wondering how this woman she didn’t know had been able to make her feel completely insignificant in a couple of sentences.
‘How did you meet? Your wedding will be the talk of the town once word gets around. The elusive Mr Ashburton finally settling down.’ Lady Wilstow peered at her intently as if trying to work out what Annabelle had that numerous others didn’t.
‘Mr Ashburton is a family friend,’ Annabelle fibbed. ‘And his brother married my sister a few months ago.’
‘Ah, yes, I remember.
The dashing younger Mr Ashburton—he set a few hearts racing while he was in London. Hasn’t he returned somewhere hot and uncivilised?’
‘India. Hardly the end of the world and I think they are just as civilised as we are.’
Lady Wilstow’s eyebrows shot up at Annabelle’s gentle rebuke and Annabelle swallowed, realising her mistake. The woman sitting next to her clearly didn’t like to be challenged.
‘So tell me, what happened between you and Mr Ashburton? I hear it was rather a rushed marriage.’ It was rude and both she and Lady Wilstow knew it, but Annabelle felt a sense of calm descend over her.
‘Mr Ashburton proposed, I accepted. Once that had happened we had the banns read, but didn’t feel the need for a lengthy engagement like many do.’ Lady Wilstow flushed and Annabelle felt a little pang of remorse, but that soon evaporated when her companion flashed her teeth in something akin to a smile.
‘You’ll have to forgive me for all the questions, but it is a slightly unusual match. All the ambitious mamas and well-connected fathers were pushing their daughters in his direction, but he eschews the popular choices for someone who has never spent a Season in London.’
Annabelle let the words hang there, wondering if Lady Wilstow would realise how rude she was being if Annabelle gave her time to digest her own words.
‘I suppose you are the daughter of an earl, but still I wouldn’t have put money on the delectable Mr Ashburton settling down with someone so unknown.’
Thankfully she was saved from having to say any more by the return of Leo and Lord Wilstow. The men were deep in conversation, both looking serious, but Leo broke off when he saw her expression and crossed the room to her side.
‘Is something amiss?’ Leo murmured as he joined her, leaning in close so their hosts wouldn’t hear.
