The Deception

by Joan Wolf

  I agreed. My bedroom furniture was upholstered with mauve and blue silk, not with chintz as at Lambourn, but the room, while elegant, was also pretty and welcoming. There were two other doors in the room besides the door to the corridor, both of which Adrian opened for me. One of them led to the earl’s bedroom. I glanced in hastily, got a quick impression of a depressing expanse of dark green, then retreated back into my own room. The other door led into a small dressing room, done in the same pretty fabric and colors as the countess’s bedroom. “This is lovely,” I exclaimed.

  “My mother had this room done,” Adrian said.

  I had noticed once before how his voice softened when he spoke of his mother. “Is your mother dead, my lord?” I asked gently.

  “Yes. She died when I was seven. In childbirth.” The clipped tones of his voice did not encourage further questions. I had lost my own mother when I was ten, so I understood.

  As we were talking, the door opened and two splendidly liveried footmen came in carrying my portmanteaux. They deposited them on the lovely cream-and-blue carpet and backed out.

  Adrian looked at my two battered leather cases. “Is that all your baggage?”

  “I have always prided myself on traveling lightly,” I said.

  “Good God, Kate, I carried more baggage than that when I was in the army and on the march.”

  “I am quite certain that you did not carry your own baggage, my lord,” I said austerely. “When I traveled it was just Papa and I and Paddy, and we all traveled lightly.”

  His silver-blond eyebrows drew together. “I thought I gave you an allowance so that you could buy some clothes. Crawford wrote me the most heartrending letter about your threadbare wardrobe.”

  I was incensed. “There was nothing wrong with my wardrobe! And I did buy some clothes. But only because Mr. Crawford told me that your tenants would think ill of you if I wasn’t dressed properly.”

  “Crawford was right, but it doesn’t look to me as if you took his advice too seriously. Good God, Kate.” And he stared again at my two poor portmanteaux.

  “I am an exceedingly good packer,” I said defiantly. “You would be surprised by how much is in those bags.”

  “I doubt it.” His eyes swung back to me. “You were in London last year. What happened to all the clothes you had then?”

  We had been standing on opposite sides of a charming powder-blue chaise longue, but now I swung away and went to look out the tall, satin-draped window. The view was of the garden; in the spring and summer it would be a lovely scene, but at the moment it looked barren and rather bleak. “I left them in London,” I said. “My uncle bought them, and I didn’t think you would want them under your roof.”

  Silence. When I felt two hands grasp my shoulders, I jumped in surprise. How could so big a man move so quietly?

  He turned me so that I was facing him once more. “You were right,” he said quietly.

  For a moment, envisioning the endless round of dress shops that Louisa had subjected me to the previous spring, I almost wished that I had kept the damned clothes. I was also intensely and uncomfortably aware of the feel of his hands on my shoulders.

  Adrian took away his hands and said, “We’ll have to get a dressmaker down from London. You can’t even go to local assemblies if you aren’t dressed properly.”

  This news cheered me up immensely. “That would be wonderful, my lord,” I said thankfully. “You cannot imagine how exhausting it was last year, being dragged through every shop on Bond Street. I must have tried on hundreds of dresses.”

  “I thought women loved new clothes.”

  “Oh, I like having new clothes,” I said. “It is the purchasing that is such a bore. A dressmaker sounds just the thing. She can take my measurements once, then sew me up whatever she thinks it is that I will need.”

  That amused look was back on his face. I didn’t mind it that he found me entertaining. What I did mind was that I didn’t know what I had said that was so funny. I gave him a dark look. He didn’t seem to notice.

  “You will also need a lady’s maid,” he said. “Shall I have Walters find you someone?”

  I opened my mouth to say yes, but then the picture of a young, bruised, tearstained face suddenly presented itself to my mind. I said instead, “There is someone in particular I would like for my maid, my lord. Would it be possible for someone to go to Charlwood to fetch her for me?” Charlwood was only ten miles from Newbury, so I did not think I was asking too much.

  “Certainly,” he said.

  “Her name is Rose,” I said. “She is one of the under-housemaids.”

  He frowned. “I said you needed a lady’s maid, Kate, not a housemaid.”

  “Oh, she was Cousin Louisa’s lady’s maid while we were at Charlwood,” I lied glibly.

  His gray eyes searched my face with a shrewdness I did not like. I looked guilelessly back.

  “Very well,” he said at last. “I will have one of the grooms drive over to fetch this Rose.”

  I thought about this for a moment. “Do you know, my lord,” I said slowly, “I think it would be wise to ascertain whether my uncle is in residence before we send someone there to collect Rose.”

  “You don’t think he would relinquish her?”

  “He hates you,” I said. “I don’t think he would give you a piece of string if he thought you wanted it.”

  He didn’t answer, just looked at me. He knew there was something I was not telling him, of course. I thought it would be good strategy to distract him from the question of Rose. “I would also like to send for Cousin Louisa.”

  “Married women don’t need chaperones,” he said.

  “The thing is, Adrian,” I was so intent upon persuading him that I didn’t even notice that I had used his name, “she is in a wretched situation. She is unmarried, you see, and she has no money, so she is forced to live with her brother, who takes advantage of her. Why, she is nothing but an unpaid housekeeper and nursery maid for his wife! And Louisa is good company, even if she is a little bit of a wet blanket.”

  “Tell me,” he said. “How is she a wet blanket?”

  “Well, if you must know, I had some lovely schemes for earning my own living and becoming independent, and she squashed them all. You won’t believe it, but she found something wrong with every single one of them.”

  He was looking at me with utter fascination. It was lovely.

  “How poor-spirited of her,” he said. “Er... if I may ask... what were these schemes?”

  I told him the best one. “I was going to dress as a boy and get a position in a stable. You know how well I ride, my lord. Anyone would have hired me.”

  His face was perfectly grave. “I should certainly have hired you.”

  “See?” I said triumphantly.

  “Dare I ask what Cousin Louisa said that caused you to abandon this enormously clever plan?”

  “She said that I would certainly have to share a room with other men. If that was the case, of course, it would be difficult to maintain my disguise.”

  His lips twitched. “True.”

  I looked at him suspiciously. “Are you laughing at me?”

  “I must admit that I agree with Cousin Louisa’s assessment of your scheme, but I am not laughing at you, Kate. In fact, I admire your courage.” He gave me one of those heart-shattering smiles of his, and all my suspicion withered away. It really wasn’t fair for a man to have a smile like that.

  I pulled myself together and went back to my original point. “May I send for Louisa, my lord? She would be no trouble, and she can help to show me how I should go on in society.”

  “Send for her by all means,” he said. “God knows, there is enough room in this house for half of Wellington’s army.”

  “Lambourn is much cozier,” I agreed.

  He sighed. “I have been an absentee landlord for too long, Kate. There’s nothing for it but to stay here for the next few months so that I can get on terms with the local gentry and the tenants
.”

  “We need some dogs,” I said.

  Silence. “Dogs?” he repeated.

  “Certainly. A few dogs would make the house seem much homier. Haven’t you ever had a dog, my lord?”

  The muscles in his face tightened. “I would not have brought a dog into the same house as my father.” His eyes were bleak. “He did not admire animals.”

  I hated to see him look like that, but I knew I couldn’t show him that I had noticed anything. I said briskly, “I have never had a dog either. We traveled too much. But I’ve always wanted one.”

  “Then you shall have one.” His face relaxed and he smiled again. Everything inside me softened. It really wasn’t fair. He looked once more at my portmanteaux. “I’ll have Mrs. Pippen send one of the chambermaids to unpack for you,” he said. “Dinner will be in two hours.” And he was gone.

  Chapter Nine

  In fashionable houses in London, dinner was served at eight or even nine o’clock, but in the country one still got one’s dinner at six. I wore my only evening dress, a blue taffeta I had bought in Lambourn with my allowance, and arranged my hair into a bun on the crown of my head. Fashion called for an array of ringlets to fall artistically out of the topknot, but I was not skilled enough to create ringlets, so I just pulled it all smooth.

  My hands were freezing as I waited in my sitting room to go down to dinner, and I walked over to the fire to warm them. I knew very well that my cold hands were not due to the temperature in the room, which was quite comfortable, but to the fact that I was terrified.

  Will we sleep together?

  Yes.

  That simple conversation was going around and around in my head. I was here in his house. He had introduced me to his servants as his wife. He was going to make the best of an unpleasant situation. We were going to stay married.

  Will it be tonight?

  I shivered and looked at the elegant gold clock that was set upon the charming white painted mantelpiece. It was time to go down.

  My husband and his brother were before me in the drawing room. They were both dressed in formal evening attire: single-breasted black tailcoats, white shirts and neckcloths, white waistcoats, buff-colored pantaloons, and white silk stockings. They made me feel shabby.

  “I say, Kate,” Harry said, “I’ve never seen you in an evening dress before. You look bang up to the mark!” His frankly admiring look made me feel better. I turned to my husband, hoping he would echo his brother’s compliments.

  Adrian said, “Let us go into dinner.” He came to offer me his arm, and I laid my fingers rather tentatively on its immaculate black surface. With Harry trailing behind, we paraded across the magnificent marble floor and into the dining room.

  It was an imposingly beautiful room, done in creams, pale greens, and golds. The only darker color in the room was the four deep-green alcoves that lay along the left wall, and the darker color effectively set off the striking white marble statues that filled them. The wall opposite to the alcoves contained four tall windows, which led out to the terrace. An immense crystal chandelier hung from a ceiling that was decorated with painted cream-and-gold medallions. The oblong mahogany table, laid with service for three, had twelve gilt chairs with pink upholstery pulled up to it. Extra chairs were lined up against the wall.

  Adrian seated me at one end of the table and went to take the seat on the opposite end. Harry’s place was exactly between us. The men sat, and we regarded each other over a huge expanse of highly polished dark wood. Footmen in royal blue-and-gold livery brought in the first course and placed it in front of us. It was some sort of soup I didn’t recognize. The fine bone china was edged in cobalt blue and gold and had the Greystone crest imprinted in the design. I picked up my spoon and took a very small taste.

  From the far end of the table Adrian remarked that the mulligatawny soup was excellent. Perhaps it was.

  Harry said, “One thing about the Frogs, they know how to cook.”

  I took another delicate sip. It was a little spicier than the food I was accustomed to.

  My footman—I say mine because he was stationed directly behind my chair—asked if I wanted wine. I usually had water or lemonade with my dinner, but tonight I said that I would take wine.

  Adrian said, “That is claret, Kate. Have you ever had claret before?”

  “Certainly,” I replied with dignity, and took a small sip. It was actually quite nice. I liked it better than the soup. I took a second sip.

  The soup was removed, and I devoutly hoped that Adrian’s chef wouldn’t come storming upstairs demanding to know why I hadn’t finished mine. The second course was brought in—chicken in some kind of a sauce, served with at least eight side dishes. It was good, but I wasn’t very hungry. I managed to get some of the chicken down, but I never touched the side dishes that littered the table. I started on a second glass of wine.

  Adrian said to me, “Tomorrow I will introduce you to Euclide, my Lusitano stallion.”

  I opened my mouth to reply, then closed it. He was sitting on the other side of a sea of side dishes, at least fifteen feet away from my own seat. I heard my voice remark, “I think this is ridiculous.”

  Adrian raised his eyebrows. After a quick glance at his brother, Harry followed suit. From behind their chairs, their footmen also looked at me. I took another sip of my wine. “Do you dine like this every night?” I asked.

  “How else should we dine?” Adrian inquired politely.

  “Well, if we must sit in this damned palatial room, the least we can do is put all our chairs together at one end of the table. I’m getting a sore throat from trying to make myself heard.”

  Harry said, “How can you have a sore throat? You’ve been mum as a church mouse all evening, Kate.”

  “That is because I do not like to shout at my dinner companions,” I replied with dignity.

  “I think it’s because you’ve been too busy gulping down the wine,” Harry said.

  I glared at him. “That is not true! And you are hardly one to talk about gulping wine, Harry. You practically inhale it”

  “Children, children,” Adrian said soothingly.

  Both Harry and I turned our glares on him. He was looking amused.

  I said, “If you don’t wipe that very superior expression from your face, my lord, I fear I will be forced to do something dangerous.”

  He looked interested. “And what would that be?”

  I took another sip of my wine. “You will have to wait and find out.”

  “You’d better get that wine away from her, Adrian,” Harry remarked.

  I closed my hand around my glass. “Ladies drink wine. I was in London. I saw them do it.”

  “Ladies also eat their dinners,” Adrian pointed out. “Wine on an empty stomach is not good for anyone.”

  “I always eat when I drink wine,” Harry said righteously.

  I thought about this. “Muffins,” I said.

  Adrian looked bewildered.

  Harry said, “Exactly. Why do you think I ate all those muffins, Kate? It was to soak up the wine I was drinking.”

  I looked at my plate. There seemed to be quite a lot of chicken left. “But I’m not hungry.”

  ‘Try,” Adrian said.

  I picked up my fork and took a bite. A large hand reached out next to me and removed my wineglass. I yelped, turned to my footman, and demanded, “Put it back.”

  “Walters is getting you a nice glass of lemonade, Kate,” Adrian said. “It will be much better for your sore throat than wine. Now take another bite of chicken.”

  “Traitor,” I said to my footman. He was a fair-skinned young man, and he blushed. I turned back to my chicken and took another bite.

  “I still think this is ridiculous,” I said.

  Adrian surprised me by agreeing, “You are quite right, Kate. I will have them set the table differently tomorrow.”

  “All the chairs together?”

  “All the chairs together.”

  “There isn�
��t any sort of a family dining room?” I inquired. “I can see that this is a splendid room for entertaining, but it is rather... overwhelming... for intimate family gatherings.”

  “You are perfectly right,” he said. “Perhaps I’ll have a new wing built—one that will be just for the family.”

  I looked at him suspiciously, but he was not wearing that amused expression that so enraged me. He looked serious.

  “That’s a splendid idea, Adrian,” Harry said. “I’ve always hated this house.”

  “It does not hold happy associations for any of us,” Adrian agreed bleakly.

  “I have finished my chicken,” I announced.

  Walters came into the room with a pitcher of lemonade for me. The footmen removed our plates and all the side dishes that I had not eaten and brought in the dessert. It was apricot tart, and I ate it all.

  It was nearly eight when I arose from the table and left the gentlemen to their wine. Walking very carefully, I went back to the drawing room and stared at the fire in the magnificent green marble fireplace. There seemed to be two of them. A footman came into the room and inquired if he could get me anything. I asked him his name and where he came from. It was going to take me a long time to get to know all of the servants in this house, so I thought I might as well make a start.

  His name was James and he had grown up in one of the cottages on the Greystone estate. We were chatting away about his little brothers and sisters when Adrian and Harry came into the room.

  “That was quick,” I said.

  “We didn’t want you to get lonesome by yourself,” Harry returned, giving poor James an extremely arrogant look.

  “I have been having a very enjoyable conversation with James,” I told Harry. “I was not lonesome at all.”

  “Dash it all, Kate,” Harry said indignantly, “this is not Lambourn, you know. You can’t get all cozy with the servants here!”

  “Thank you, James,” Adrian said quietly. “That will be all.”