The Reluctant Marchioness

by Anne Ashley

  No, the only way to handle Julian was to face up to him. And strangely enough, he seemed to like it, she reflected, remembering clearly that day, not so very long ago, when she had taken him to task over his treatment of Charles. Whether he turned out to be as understanding over Serena’s unexpected arrival was a different matter entirely, however. In the meantime, she reminded herself, she had those letters to write to occupy her time until his return from his fishing expedition.

  Having Serena’s unfortunate predicament constantly intruding into her thoughts, Jennifer took rather longer over the task than expected, and was somewhat surprised when Slocombe unexpectedly appeared in her private little sanctum to enquire whether she wished to delay dinner that evening.

  ‘Good gracious!’ Her eyes automatically turned to the mantel-clock. ‘I had no notion it was so late. No, Slocombe, we’ll dine at the usual hour. I’ll go up and change now.’ She checked in her progress across to the door. ‘I presume his lordship has already returned?’

  ‘Yes, my lady. I believe he is in his bedchamber.’

  Realising that there wasn’t time to see Serena before dinner, Jennifer went directly to the west wing. As she approached the door to her room, she saw her husband’s pernickety valet, carrying a pile of soiled linen, emerge from the chamber next to her own, and decided that it was more than likely that Wroxam would leave his room before she had had time to change her own attire.

  Waiting only for Penrose to go about his duties, she knocked lightly on her husband’s door and, receiving no response, entered before her courage failed her to discover Wroxam, dressed only in a full-length robe, emerging from his dressing room, rubbing his wet hair with a towel. Of course she had seen him dressed in very much less on numerous occasions in the distant past; in fact, wearing nothing at all. But catching him now, for the first time since her return, in this casual state rekindled bittersweet memories of more intimate moments they had shared, and reminded her that she was familiar with every inch of the skin hidden beneath that crimson brocade robe.

  The instant he noticed her standing there, hand still clutching the doorknob, Julian stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes widening momentarily, before his lips curled into a distinctly provocative half-smile, as he easily detected the hue, not dissimilar to the shade of his garment, suffusing Jennifer’s delicate cheeks.

  ‘What an unexpected pleasure, my dear! Do come in and close the door.’ His smile grew more pronounced when she made not the least attempt to move, and continued to regard him as though he were some fearsome predator about to attack. ‘I am fully aware that only a matter of the utmost importance would have induced you to set foot in this room, and I can assure you that you are perfectly safe. I have never been disposed to ravishing unwilling females, and even if I were, there really wouldn’t be time. Penrose will be returning shortly.’

  The flippancy restored sufficient courage for her to close the door, but not quite enough to induce her to accept the offer of the comfortable chair too conveniently positioned by the huge four-poster bed.

  Julian didn’t miss the apprehensive glance she cast the room’s most prominent feature, as though it were a hot bed of coals, something perilous and threatening, something to be avoided at all costs. Anyone observing her reaction might be forgiven for supposing that she had never sampled the pleasures of the flesh, let alone given birth to a child. Yet there was something singularly pleasing in the display of pretty modesty; something which had been too spontaneous not to be perfectly genuine.

  ‘You will forgive me if I do sit down, my dear, and finish my toilet. I do not wish to be late in going down to dinner…especially as we have, so I understand, a guest now staying with us.’ He met her frankly startled gaze in the dressing-table mirror. ‘Yes, Slocombe did inform me upon my return that a Miss Carstairs had arrived.’

  ‘And you do not object to her staying with us for a short period?’ Jennifer, quite unable to keep surprise from creeping into her voice, noticed the faintly sardonic lift to one dark brow in the dressing-table mirror.

  ‘I cannot perceive why you should imagine I would raise the smallest objection to having a guest under our roof. The sooner you cease to view me as some kind of unfeeling monster, my dear, the better we shall deal together.’

  Receiving no response, he reached for his comb and proceeded to drag it through his damp locks, while continuing to hold that now decidedly wary gaze through the mirror. ‘However,’ he continued, once satisfied with the arrangement of his hair, ‘I do not for a moment suppose it was to inform me of your friend’s arrival that was your sole reason for coming here.’

  ‘Well, no,’ she admitted, grudgingly admiring his perspicacity. ‘You see, Julian,’ she continued, sublimely unaware of the fact that she had addressed him by his given name for the first time since her return to England, ‘Serena’s arrival was a complete surprise to me, too. Had I written to invite her to stay, I would quite naturally have consulted you first.’

  ‘So?’ he prompted, when she began to look distinctly ill at ease.

  ‘Well, not to put too fine a point on it, you might say I offered her a refuge, somewhere where she can safely remain until she is able to find a more permanent place to reside… I suppose you might say she has run away from home, you see.’

  ‘Dear me,’ he muttered in a half-mocking tone. ‘You and your friend appear to have much more in common than just a similarity in age.’

  Jennifer did not misunderstand, and refused to permit this piece of deliberate provocation to go unchallenged. ‘I do not consider that in the least amusing, Wroxam!’ she snapped, chin lifting. ‘And, might I remind you, I did not run away. I merely left you.’

  ‘I stand corrected, my dear.’ The hard contours of his face were softened by a surprisingly tender expression. ‘May I be permitted to know why Miss Carstairs felt compelled to take such drastic action?’

  ‘Oh, she had a very good reason,’ Jennifer assured him, her annoyance at his earlier flippancy swiftly dwindling. ‘Her parents, seemingly, wish her to marry that loathsome Lord Sloane. Quite naturally Serena has refused to do so.’

  His expressive dark brows snapped together. ‘If that is indeed the case, my dear, then I find it not at all difficult to comprehend Miss Carstairs’s behaviour, and am doubly happy to offer the sanctuary of my home…with one stipulation.’

  ‘Which is?’

  ‘That she writes to her parents, informing them that she is staying at Wroxam Park as our guest.’ In one smooth movement he rose to his feet, one long-fingered hand reaching for the opening of his dressing-gown as he did so. ‘And now, my dear, if there’s nothing else you wish to discuss, I’ll spare your blushes by asking you to leave, for I am about to disrobe.’

  With a rumble of faintly mocking laughter ringing in her ears, Jennifer whisked herself from the room, closing the door firmly behind her before opening the one to the adjoining chamber. Young Rose appeared promptly in response to the summons, and even though Jennifer went down to the parlour with fifteen minutes to spare before dinner, it was to discover Serena already there, appearing quite remarkably composed and cheerful in the Marquis’s company.

  ‘Ah, my dear!’ he greeted her, with every evidence of delight. ‘I had assured our guest that you’d not keep us waiting, and once again you have justified my faith in you.’

  Yet another display of that seemingly effortless charm. What in the world had come over the man of late? she wondered, casting a suspicious glance in his direction before turning a smiling countenance to her friend, who was looking very much happier than she had been earlier. Whatever Wroxam had been saying to her, it certainly appeared to have restored the healthy bloom in those thin cheeks.

  ‘Before you joined us, my dear,’ his lordship remarked, handing her a glass of Madeira, ‘Miss Carstairs was offering her opinion on the latest thespian to have taken the capital by storm and, like myself, is one of the few who doesn’t hold Lawrence Merrivale in high esteem. I saw him very early in the Seas
on, and thought his portrayal decidedly unconvincing. In fact, he put me very much in mind of my valet, Miss Carstairs,’ he added, turning once again to her, ‘with his thin, high-pitched voice and mincing walk. Hardly everyone’s idea of the dashing hero.’

  Serena laughingly agreed; and it was by no means the only time his lordship was able, with very little effort it seemed, to ignite a spontaneous gurgle.

  Throughout dinner, Jennifer noticed, he managed to keep her friend in a high state of amusement with his caustic remarks and less-than-flattering observations on several of Society’s most famous figures. Serena appeared to lose every vestige of shyness with him, and seemed quite disappointed when he announced, after the meal was over, that he would not be joining them in the parlour for tea, as pressing estate matters were requiring his attention.

  ‘So I will bid you goodnight now, Miss Carstairs, and hope to see you in the morning at breakfast.’

  ‘I look forward to it, my lord.’

  ‘You sounded as though you truly meant that,’ Jennifer remarked, as she led the way back into the comfortable parlour.

  ‘I did,’ Serena readily confirmed. ‘Your husband is truly a most charming gentleman. I cannot deny that when I discovered only his lordship here earlier, my poor heart sank, but he put me at my ease at once, making me feel so very welcome that you might find it difficult to be rid of me. Why, he’s nothing like the cold, autocratic man I’ve always imagined him to be!’

  She gave an uncertain little laugh, as she once again made herself comfortable in one of the chairs. ‘I must confess, Jenny, that when I heard all the rumours about a reconciliation between you, I was inclined to dismiss them as ludicrous. How pleased I am to discover that I was totally wrong!’

  ‘You were not in error, Serena,’ Jennifer countered. ‘There is no reconciliation.’

  It was perhaps fortunate that Slocombe entered the room at that moment, carrying the tea-tray which he automatically placed on the low table by his mistress’s chair, because Serena was quite unable to stop herself from gaping in disbelief, so stunned was she by the disclosure. Fortunately, by the time the butler had withdrawn, closing the door quietly behind him, she had managed to school her features, even though she was still finding the astonishing admission somewhat hard to believe.

  Jennifer, dispensing the tea, was not slow to note the lingering doubt in her friend’s eyes. ‘You shouldn’t be fooled by appearances, Serena,’ she advised, handing her one of the filled china cups. ‘I would be the first to admit that on the surface Wroxam is charming, seems the perfect host, the most considerate and convivial companion. But I am not fooled. He has a tongue like a viper, can be equally venomous, and can strike with lightning speed when one least expects it.’

  Both the look which glinted in her eyes and her smile completely lacked any vestige of warmth. ‘I am permitted to reside here simply because I am the mother of his son, and for no other reason.’

  ‘Oh, Jenny, I’m so very sorry,’ Serena responded, not quite knowing what to say or what to believe, either. From what she had observed thus far, his lordship’s manner towards his Marchioness was one of quite touching tenderness. Anyone might be forgiven for supposing that he was, indeed, a man very much in love with his wife. Yet, if what Jennifer had told her was true…

  ‘I do not deserve your pity,’ Jennifer unexpectedly announced, forcing Serena to abandon her perplexing thoughts. ‘I brought it all upon myself by making the foolish mistake of underestimating my husband. I really ought to have considered the possibility, before I decided to bring Charles with me to England, that Julian might decide to have me followed. Of course, he expected to find me enjoying the attentions of some ardent lover. Instead, he found me enjoying the company of my son.

  ‘You appear shocked, my dear. But let me assure you that Wroxam had every reason to suspect I had a lover.’ Her eyes never wavered from Serena’s face as she added, ‘It certainly wouldn’t have been the first time that he had discovered me naked in the arms of another man.’

  ‘Jennifer, whatever can you mean!’ Serena’s expression clearly betrayed staunch disbelief. ‘I simply cannot believe that you would ever—’

  ‘Behave like a wanton,’ Jennifer finished for her. ‘That is precisely the reaction I would have expected from such a good friend as you, Serena. Unfortunately in this particular instance I am unworthy of your good opinion, for I did make a cuckold of Julian once… Though why I did so, I have never been able to understand. I was very much in love with Wroxam, whereas I was never in love with Geoffrey Wilburn.’

  ‘Geoffrey Wilburn?’ Serena echoed, desperately striving to come to terms with what she was hearing. The name meant absolutely nothing to her.

  ‘He used to live with his half-sister, Melissa Royston, our nearest neighbour,’ Jennifer enlightened her, before rising to her feet and going over to the window to stare out at the lake, sparkling now in the late evening sunshine.

  It was a view that she had always loved, had always remembered so well; just as she had never forgotten that day when she had happily agreed to accompany Geoffrey out for a ride across the estate. She had not intended to ride so far, but when it had come on to rain, she had not thought twice about seeking shelter in that old cottage by the wood on his sister’s land.

  ‘So you went into the cottage with Geoffrey,’ Serena prompted when Jennifer fell silent after disclosing this much, ‘merely to shelter from the rain and for—for no other reason.’

  ‘And for no other reason,’ Jennifer confirmed. ‘I remember Geoffrey opening a bottle of wine. I remember sitting with him at the rough wooden table, drinking a glass. But after that I can recall nothing…nothing until I saw Julian, like some shadowy figure, standing in the doorway. For some reason I was unable to bring his face into focus. It was like peering through a haze, like waking from a dream, and not quite knowing what was real and what was not. Which was possibly just as well, because I clearly recall Melissa saying that he looked positively murderous.’

  ‘I do not quite understand, Jenny,’ Serena put in quickly. ‘Are you trying to tell me that this man’s sister was there also? If so, surely everything was perfectly respectable?’

  ‘Melissa didn’t accompany Geoffrey and me out riding on that occasion, though she sometimes did. She was busily engaged making last-minute arrangements for a dinner-party she was planning to hold that evening. Geoffrey had promised to be home in good time, and when he failed to return, she rode over to see if he was here. Her arrival coincided with Wroxam’s return from London, and they both set out looking for us.

  ‘Melissa remained at the cottage to help me dress after Wroxam had gone. I remember her coaxing me to drink some sort of herbal tea. It tasted very bitter as I recall, but at least it managed to clear my head a little, but not sufficiently for me to remember precisely what had taken place. Melissa put my loss of memory down to shock—distress at being discovered in such a compromising position with her brother.’ Jennifer shrugged. ‘And who knows, she may possibly have been right.’

  ‘And you still do not remember what took place between you and Geoffrey in that cottage?’ Serena asked gently, when Jennifer had returned to the chair opposite.

  ‘No, and I doubt I ever shall. But I shall never forget Julian’s look of contempt, or the cold indifference I received when I arrived home. At the time, of course, I didn’t realise that that was destined to be the last time I would see him for eight and a half years. He returned to London immediately, and I was ordered to remain at Wroxam Park.’

  She then went on to relate her subsequent meeting with Mary, and to divulge a little of the happy life she had enjoyed in Ireland with James O’Connell. ‘He was a truly wonderful man. Had he not died last autumn, I certainly wouldn’t be sitting here now.’

  ‘And do you intend to remain?’ Serena asked, still striving to understand, to come to terms with what she had learned.

  ‘If you had asked me that question several weeks ago, when I first arrived here, I coul
d have given you an answer at once. Now I’m not so certain.’ Sighing, Jennifer leaned back against the chair. ‘Wroxam gave me no choice—either I return here with him, or give up my son. And during these past weeks I have witnessed a bond developing between them, a rapidly growing affection.’

  ‘I very much look forward to making Charles’s acquaintance.’

  ‘Perhaps I’m a doting mother, Serena,’ Jennifer responded with a gentle smile, ‘but I think he’s a fine boy. And in that Wroxam and I are in complete accord. He has become truly attached to his son. So, you see, he is capable of experiencing some of the finer feelings. But where I’m concerned…’ She shook her head. ‘He never loved me. I realised that a long time ago. The only reason he tolerates my presence here is because I am the mother of his son, and for no other reason.’

  Serena was not so certain. If it wasn’t love that had brought that tender look into his lordship’s eyes for just one unguarded moment when Jennifer had joined them before dinner, then Serena was at a loss to know what it could have been.

  Chapter Eight

  Jennifer couldn’t deny that she enjoyed having another female in the house. Serena proved to be the same charming, witty companion that she had known during her time in London. Charles liked her very much from the first. Having a lively younger brother, Serena was vastly experienced in the ways of very young gentleman, and never fell into the grave error of addressing them as little boys. She frequently accompanied Jennifer to the nursery wing, and was only too willing to join in any games Charles might wish to play, which swiftly earned her the supreme accolade of being thought a ‘great gun’ by the young heir.