Wedded for His Secret Child

by Helen Dickson

  Chapter Six

  On arriving at Mortimer House Melissa was shown into a drawing room overlooking a wide terrace and a well-tended garden beyond. The house was elegant and spacious, but it displayed none of the awe-inspiring opulence of Maxwell House.

  ‘Antony isn’t home, Melissa, so we will enjoy our refreshment in peace. It’s such a lovely day I’ll arrange for tea to be sent out to the terrace.’ Eliza glanced at the open French doors. ‘Walk out to the garden if you like. There are some rather lovely roses Gerald is rather proud of.’

  Melissa did as Eliza suggested and drifted outside. The sweet scent of roses and summer flowers was heavy on the air. Sauntering across the lawn, she was surprised when a man appeared from an arbour, holding a single yellow rose in his elegant hand. Wearing a short wig of exquisite whiteness, he was tall, dressed in a blue-coloured frock suit of heavily embroidered silk—a fine lacy jabot spilled from his throat in a frothy cascade and lace ruffles dripped over his wrists and over well-shaped hands, caressing elegant, bejewelled fingers. On seeing her his bland expression gave way to reverent admiration before walking gracefully towards her. He tendered her a polite bow, looking at her with the impartiality of a true connoisseur, looking for flaws that others would miss and finding only perfection.

  ‘Now who can you be?’ he enquired with unconcealed curiosity, his voice as smooth and seductive as the softest silk, his eyes absorbing every detail of her face and figure. ‘I don’t recall seeing you at any of the soirées I have attended.’

  Melissa bobbed a little curtsy, suddenly finding herself lost for words. He was attractive, with sultry features and dangerously hooded eyes, and he exuded all the confidence of a conceited charmer.

  ‘I am Melissa Maxwell. Eliza was kind enough to invite me for refreshment.’

  ‘Lady Maxwell?’ His expression immediately became shuttered. ‘Well, who would have guessed. I heard Laurence had married again. I am happy to meet you.’ His expression became more open as he executed a courtly bow. The lascivious look he gave her as he took her hand and placed it to his mouth, his lips lingering too long on her slender fingers, going way beyond that of ordinary interest, irritated Melissa. ‘You have only recently come to London, I believe—which is why we have not met before now. I do hope the scandal that has followed you to town doesn’t bother you? The gossips can be cruel—for myself I never could resist a damsel in distress.’

  ‘Hardly a damsel, sir, and I am certainly not in distress—and, no, the gossips don’t bother me.’

  ‘Ah—a lady after my own heart. However, society is not as discerning as I, but I reckon you will withstand whatever it throws at you with Laurence to fend off any malicious asides. What an attractive young woman you are. I have no doubt that when you do go out in society you will ruffle a few feathers and cause quite a stir.’

  Unable to resist such charming flattery, especially when it was spoken by a man whose eyes twinkled with such wicked mischief, Melissa responded with a smile. ‘There are many beautiful ladies in town, sir. I am quite certain I will not cause a stir at all.’ He was approximately the same age as Laurence, she guessed, but there the similarity ended. This man was much more slender, with a brooding air and an immaculate look. ‘I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage.’

  ‘I apologise. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Gerald Mortimer—Eliza’s brother—at your service, my lady.’

  Melissa got the impression he was watching her closely to determine her reaction. ‘She told me you were in Brighton.’

  ‘I was—but I decided to return a day early. I was surprised to learn that Laurence had married again.’

  ‘Have the two of you known each other long?’

  ‘Indeed—almost all our lives. We are neighbours in Surrey. Your husband has not spoken of me?’

  ‘Only in passing, but then we have only recently married and I don’t yet know many of his acquaintances.’

  ‘But you do know Sir Antony and that he’s my brother-in-law.’

  ‘In which case,’ Melissa said with a smile, ‘I shall expect to see you at Winchcombe some time in the future.’

  He hesitated. ‘I wouldn’t be so certain of that. Your husband and I are not exactly on the best of terms.’ At her curious frown, he added, ‘Perhaps you should not be seen speaking to me. Laurence would not approve.’

  ‘I make my own friends,’ she said, irked that he should think Laurence would deny her the right to converse with whomsoever she pleased. Yet perhaps she should not encourage him. The conversation was highly improper, and faintly disloyal to Laurence, but she was curious to know more. ‘I confess that I am intrigued. Why would he not approve of me speaking to you?’

  He smiled. ‘Perhaps you should ask him.’

  ‘I shall make a point of it.’

  He looked beyond her, raising his hand to Eliza who had appeared on the terrace. ‘Please allow me to escort you to my sister. Come, take my arm. She does not look best pleased to see me—or perhaps it is because you are with her reprobate of a brother.’

  ‘Perhaps she has good reason to call you that,’ Melissa murmured with a delicate lift to her brows. Not wishing to appear rude, she lightly placed her fingers on his arm, which was offered in such a way that it was a masterpiece of gracious arrogance.

  He laughed outright, showing teeth as white and strong as those of a wild animal. ‘You read me too well, dear lady—my reputation has gone before me,’ he said as they walked towards Eliza, his heavy lids drooping over his eyes suggesting at intimacy, and a salacious, lazy smile curling his full lips. ‘Not that it worries me overmuch.’

  ‘I cannot imagine it would,’ Melissa replied, forming her own judgement of him and sensing he possessed an unpredictable nature, of which her instinct told her to beware.

  Seeing the smile fade from her lips and a wariness enter her eyes, Sir Gerald chuckled under his breath as they climbed the steps to the terrace, where Eliza was waiting for them. She looked uneasy and a worried frown creased her brow.

  ‘Really, Gerald. You were supposed to be in Brighton,’ she uttered, her tone one of reproach.

  ‘I was, Eliza—as I’ve just been telling the adorable Lady Maxwell. I simply became bored of the company and decided to return to London a day early. You have no objection, I hope?’

  ‘No, of course not—only I wish I had known,’ she answered crossly.

  ‘Had you known I would have been denied the pleasure of meeting this charming lady.’ Seeing Melissa’s expression, he laughed. ‘Do not look so shocked, my dear. Damn me if I can remember when I last saw a prettier face than yours.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sure you can if you try,’ Melissa remarked, her wonderful amber eyes filled with wry amusement, noting that his voice lacked sincerity and that he spoke with well-regulated practice.

  ‘If you are to go out into society, then you must get used to flattery. You mustn’t mind me flirting with you. Most ladies who attend soirées and the like expect it and are mortally offended if they find themselves ignored.’

  ‘That may be so, Gerald,’ Eliza said acerbically, ‘but Melissa is a married lady—Laurence’s wife—and you should behave yourself.’ Sitting at a round ornate table where a maid had placed refreshment, she began pouring the tea. ‘If you want tea, Gerald, go and get yourself a cup and saucer.’

  ‘Now why would I do that when I have servants to do my bidding? It is, after all, what I pay them for. However, I’ll settle for something stronger shortly.’

  ‘I expect you will, although I imagine you are awash with it already.’ Handing Melissa her tea, Eliza told her to help herself to the delicate cakes which looked so tempting Melissa couldn’t resist taking one. ‘I feel that I must apologise for my brother, Melissa. He can be irritating and quite insufferable at times. Don’t take anything he says seriously.’

  Not at all put out by his sister’s chiding and not in the leas
t interested in partaking of a cup of tea, Sir Gerald pulled out a chair and sat down, stretching his long legs out in front of him and crossing them at the ankles before helping himself to a pinch of snuff and settling back to listen to the ladies discussing their morning’s shopping expedition and observe the charming Melissa Maxwell more closely.

  Eventually, feeling ill at ease with the stilted atmosphere that was prevalent between brother and sister, Melissa announced that she would have to leave.

  ‘I’ll walk you to your carriage—or my carriage as the case will be,’ Sir Gerald said, getting up.

  ‘Are you always so noble, sir?’ Melissa asked.

  He grinned. ‘You may depend on it.’

  Unable to shake off the continued attentions of Sir Gerald, they made their way to the front of the house where the carriage was waiting to take Melissa home.

  Still holding the yellow rose, Gerald handed it to her, telling her he couldn’t think of any other lady he would rather present it to.

  Eliza glowered at him. ‘Do not believe a word that trips off his tongue, Melissa. Gerald is a notorious womaniser and his intentions less than honourable.’

  ‘And I would be grateful if you did not cast aspersions,’ Gerald protested, seeming to be more flattered by his sister’s rebuke than offended.

  Melissa suddenly noticed Antony in the street, having just alighted from a carriage—Laurence’s carriage—and seated inside was the familiar figure of her husband.

  Her smile froze as her gaze became fixed on them. Laurence’s gaze barely rested on Melissa before sliding to Sir Gerald, his mouth drawn into a ruthless, forbidding line. There was a tightening to his features as his eyes narrowed and swept over him like a whiplash. The look that passed between them crackled with hidden fire and for just a moment Melissa saw something savage and raw stir in the depths of her husband’s eyes, before they became icy with contempt.

  Melissa intercepted a silent communication between Antony and Eliza, noticing how Eliza paled and drew in her breath quickly, her hand rising to her throat as her eyes were drawn towards Laurence.

  ‘What is this?’ Antony said lightly. ‘You’re back from Brighton earlier than expected, Gerald.’

  ‘Yes—that’s precisely what my sister said. I hope you don’t mind. It is my house when all is said and done.’

  Antony was clearly discomfited by that. His gaze flitted from his wife to Laurence. ‘Laurence—I’m truly sorry about this, but...’

  ‘Forget it, Antony.’

  ‘Pardon me—I forget my manners,’ Gerald said, stepping forward, eyeing Laurence coldly. ‘Would you not care to come inside for a shot of refreshment?’

  Laurence subjected him to a look of severe distaste and chilling contempt. ‘You are impertinent, Mortimer, and not worth the shot.’ His eyes sliced to his wife. ‘If you are ready, Melissa, say goodbye to Eliza.’

  Filled with confusion by Laurence’s show of rudeness, Melissa was puzzled by his behaviour, but recalling that he had not spoken favourably of Sir Gerald in a previous conversation and witnessing the dislike he so clearly felt, she thought Laurence must have good reason to cut him so deliberately.

  ‘Yes, of course.’ Turning to Eliza, she smiled. ‘Thank you for your help, Eliza, and the refreshment.’

  ‘Don’t mention it, Melissa. I loved it, shopping together. You have some packages in my carriage. I’ll see that you get them. And don’t forget we will be calling on you the day after tomorrow to take you riding in Hyde Park.’

  ‘I won’t. I’m looking forward to it. It will be good to be back in the saddle again.’

  Gerald stepped towards Melissa as she was about to climb into the carriage, making a bow worthy of the most elegant of courtiers. ‘It was truly a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Maxwell,’ he said, the most charming smile pasted on his attractive face. He almost crowed with the achievement of acquiring her acquaintance, which, considering the way Laurence was glowering at him fit to do murder, was perhaps not the most tactful of things to do.

  * * *

  With a mask of feral rage, after snapping orders to the driver, Laurence glared across at his wife as the carriage moved away from Mortimer House. Melissa waited for the onslaught of her husband’s fury although she did not consider she had done anything to justify it. She deeply regretted if she had done anything to upset him and it would be no easy matter placating him.

  Drawing a quick breath, in an attempt to dispel the fury that the encounter with Sir Gerald had caused him, settling into the corner Melissa smiled across at him, trying to remain calm and in control of herself.

  ‘After our shopping trip to the Strand, Eliza invited me to Mortimer House for refreshment. You are clearly displeased about it, Laurence. Why?’

  ‘That is not the reason why I am displeased, Melissa. It is the fact that Mortimer was also present—although I suppose you would have to meet him some time. I saw the way he looked at you, which you must have observed for yourself. It would seem you have an admirer and I suspect it amuses you to have a flirtatious exchange with such a blackguard.’

  ‘Is he really as bad as all that?’ She tried to sound unconcerned while deep inside her anger stirred at Laurence’s stubborn refusal to explain the reason for his dislike of Gerald Mortimer. ‘He is handsome enough, I suppose, but he does not tempt me.’

  ‘I’m relieved to hear it.’

  ‘There really is bad blood between you, isn’t there?’ Melissa said quietly.

  Laurence hesitated a moment, his silver-grey eyes thoughtful as he considered her question. His mouth tightened. ‘You might say that. The man is consumed by his own obsessions. It’s unhealthy that he should exhibit such an unrestrained interest in another man’s wife.’ He glanced distastefully at the rose she was still holding. ‘Get rid of it.’ Without waiting for her to do so he snatched it from her grasp and tossed it out of the carriage. ‘I think it best that you avoid him whenever possible—that you keep away from such destructive, immoral influences, for it is clear to me that your lack of understanding of society’s ways and your inexperience only adds to your attraction in his eyes. As you will have observed for yourself, he and I are not the best of friends. You will not visit Eliza at his house again.’

  ‘But—what are you saying? How can I not do so without upsetting her? And—Antony is your closest friend.’

  ‘The discord between Gerald Mortimer and myself is of long standing. Eliza and Antony fully understand it—although for the life of me I cannot understand why she took you to Mortimer House.’

  ‘Her brother was supposed to be down in Brighton. It wasn’t her fault that he returned earlier than expected. I’m sorry if I’ve upset you. I won’t go there again.’

  Laurence stared at her, the anger draining out of him. He was struck afresh by her loveliness. It was easy to forget he hadn’t wanted to marry her. What was difficult was controlling his physical reaction to her nearness—an exercise of fortitude, he thought wryly, that was proving to be exceedingly trying. He’d never imagined he would find himself confronted with this apparently insurmountable barrier—the barrier Melissa had erected around herself like a stone wall. But if she thought to continue withholding herself from him then she was mistaken. He recalled the way she’d smiled at Gerald Mortimer—he would like to see those lips curve in just that way for him, he decided, as a breath of jealous possession washed over his skin, jolting him with its intensity.

  Because of the short time they had been married, he had respected her wish for some time to herself, some time to get used to the marriage. Bur she was still his wife and he did not intend living a celibate life much longer. Night after night he would glare at the closed door that stood between his room and Melissa’s, imagining her on the other side—in her bed. There were times when his need of her was beyond all bearing. The longer the situation continued the more difficult it would be for them to com
e together. The situation clearly would not right itself so it was time he did something about it.

  ‘Melissa,’ he said, softening his tone, ‘you’re free to do whatever you want—and I’m glad you’ve found a friend in Eliza—but I don’t want you going anywhere near her brother.’ As soon as he had seen them together a part of him seriously objected. Melissa meeting a man she might be drawn to would mean sharing her as he had Alice, with all the heartache and pain this would cause. Alice and Gerald had been lovers for a long time. She and Toby had been killed on the day she had left Laurence for Gerald. He would not go down that path again. ‘There is another matter I think we should discuss,’ he said, deliberately putting Alice out of his mind. ‘We have received an invitation to attend Lord and Lady Cranston’s summer ball. I think we should go.’

  ‘You do? Eliza mentioned something about it, but I didn’t pay any attention to it at the time. I—thought you wouldn’t want to go.’

  ‘I don’t normally attend society events. When the invitation arrived, I confess I only gave it a cursory glance and was tempted to tell my secretary to send a polite refusal, despite any social occasion at Cranston House reputed as being exceptional. It was Antony who persuaded me to accept it. He and Eliza will be going and I think you would enjoy attending such a prestigious event before going to Winchcombe. Invitations to any event Lord and Lady Cranston hold are as coveted as jewels.’

  ‘Eliza said something of the sort, but I imagine the invitation has been issued out of politeness to you.’

  ‘I trust you have read the newspapers and are aware of what has been written about us—about our marriage?’

  ‘Indeed. It was hard not to.’

  ‘No doubt you find the comments hurtful.’

  ‘Yes, I do. Very hurtful. I didn’t realise people could be so cruel.’