'That was one of my secrets. Are you pleased with my surprise?'
'I am delighted for Letty's sake. But how did you persuade his mother to agree to this visit to us?'
'Oliver is not in leading-strings, my dear. I found him to be a young man of great determination. However, in the case of his mother, no great persuasion was necessary. On the contrary, she seemed pleased beyond measure.'
'Anthony, you used her own snobbery against her. Is that not so?'
'Something like that.' He was smiling down at her. 'Must we speak of Oliver Wells? I have not told you how beautiful you look today.' He tilted up her face to his and kissed her gently in the lips.
The touch of that warm mouth upon her own was both disturbing and exciting, but India was moved to protest.
'Anthony, everyone will see us...'
'Why not, my darling wife? As from today, this is all perfectly legal.'
'That wasn't what I meant. This is a public place.'
'Very well, my love, but I warn you. I yearn for privacy.'
She blushed and was thankful that he was unable to tease her further, since they had arrived at Perceval Hall.
After that there was no time for private conversation. She and Isham stood at the head of a reception line welcoming friends and relatives for what seemed to India like hours.
One of the first to be introduced to her was the Dowager Lady Isham. As Henry led his mother forward India was astonished. Tall and slender, with huge dark eyes and a finely modelled face, her ladyship was still a beauty. Now she bent forward to kiss the bride.
'I had hoped to meet you before today, my dear, but Henry was delayed. It was late last night when we arrived. You will forgive me?' The prettily accented English told of some foreign ancestry.
India returned her kiss with warmth. 'We are so happy to see you, my lady.'
'Oh, Lucia, if you please. We are to be good friends, I hope.' She passed on down the line with several words of congratulations for Isham.
India had no opportunity to speak to her again until later in the day. When the feasting was done, toasts drunk and speeches made, Lucia came to find her.
'Madame...' she began.
'Oh, please call me India. Is there something I can do for you?'
'I cannot find Henry. You will think me foolish, but I am easily fatigued. I hoped that he would take me to the inn.'
'The inn?' India gazed at her blankly. 'Are you not staying at the Grange? This is out of all reason.'
'No, it is not, my dear. I pointed out to Henry that to newly-weds any visitors are de trop.'
'That is thoughtful of you, but quite unnecessary.' Try as she might, India was unable to persuade this charming creature to return to the Grange. 'Then you must promise me one thing,' she said. 'Let Henry take you there tomorrow. My mother and my sister are to live there, and Letty will be glad of company when I am gone away.'
'You are close...you and your sister?'
'Indeed we are.' India scanned the room for Letty and saw her at last closeted in an alcove with Oliver Wells. Perhaps it was her fancy, but she felt that an aura of love surrounded them. When Letty looked at her beloved her heart was in her eyes.
'An enchanting creature!' Lucia murmured. 'Clearly the young man adores her.' Then she swayed.
'Oh, you are not well! Do sit down, I beg of you.'
'It is nothing, India. Please excuse me. I have no wish to spoil your day.'
India looked at her with some concern, noting the tell-tale signs of exhaustion. Now Lucia's few lines were more strongly marked and dark circles had appeared beneath her eyes.
'Come in here. No one uses this small sitting-room. I'll send Letty to you...'
'No, please...'
'She never makes a fuss,' said India cheerfully. 'I will find Henry for you.'
Letty went at once to do her bidding, so wrapped in dreams of happiness that nothing could trouble her. India began to search for Henry. To her own surprise she could not even see the tall figure of Isham in the crowd. Had he and his brother taken a stroll about the grounds? It seemed an unlikely thing to do on this of all days.
Then she saw them, standing at the end of a long corridor. They were deep in conversation. As she approached she detected a note of anger in Isham's voice.
'I won't discuss it, Henry. This is neither the time nor the place.'
'But you must...' Henry laid a beseeching hand upon his brother's arm.
'No!' Isham moved away. 'And that is final!'
India hurried up to them, aware that she was interrupting a quarrel. She decided to ignore it.
'Henry, your mother needs you,' she said quickly. 'Will you take her back to the inn? She is exhausted.'
Henry looked startled, but he followed her without demur. India waited until they had driven away and then she turned to Isham.
'Lucia needed more time to rest,' she said. 'Henry should have brought her here some days ago, instead of rushing down from London only yesterday.' She looked up at him. 'I'm sorry. I do not mean to criticise, but I cannot like their staying at an inn when we have so much room for them. I have insisted that they move into the Grange tomorrow.'
Isham slipped an arm about her shoulders and hugged her. 'Do you expect me to play the heavy husband and forbid it?'
'I am sure that you will not. I like Lucia very much. Is she Spanish?'
'No, she is Italian. My father met her long ago, during his Grand Tour of the continent. She has been in England for these twenty-five years, but she has not lost her accent.'
'I like to listen to her. I hope she will be company for Letty.'
'Letty is unlikely to need any company other than that of Oliver, if I'm not mistaken. You must resign yourself to losing her, my love.'
'I shan't mind too much, as long as she is happy.'
Isham dropped a kiss upon her hair. 'We've done our duty by our guests, I think. Shall we take our leave of them?'
He took her hand and led her back through the crowded room to find her aunt and uncle. Sir James brushed aside their thanks as his wife held India in a long embrace. The vicar and his wife Elizabeth added their congratulations to the happy couple, whilst Mrs Rushford ostentatiously held a handkerchief to her eyes. Most difficult of all was to take her leave of Letty. She threw her arms about her sister's neck.
'Are you happy?' she whispered.
'I can't believe it!' Letty said simply. 'Anthony promised, but even then I didn't dare to hope. I told you once before that my dear brother-in-law is the best of men. Oh, India, you will be so happy with him!'
India looked at the shining eyes in wonder. Was this what it was like to be fulfilled in love? She was beginning to understand the reasons for Letty's long conversations with Isham. They had been about Oliver Wells.
Then her husband took her arm. 'Shall we go?' he said.
With a last kiss for Hester and another for Giles, India stepped into the carriage which was to take them to the Grange. As it rolled away from Perceval Hall, she waved until she could see the familiar figures no longer. Then Isham spoke.
"This is the start of a new life for both of us,' he said quietly. 'India, will you be my friend as well as my wife? Together we shall be a team, and I shall do my best to make you happy.'
'You have already done so.' Impulsively, she laid her hand on his. 'Letty is her old self again. I haven't seen her in such spirits since...since last Season.'
'I'm glad of it. She and Oliver will-deal well together. They are a delightful couple.' If Isham had noticed her careful avoidance of the subject of her father's death he gave no sign of it.
In her relief India began to tease him. 'Even so, my lord, I believe you to be a dastardly deceiver. Did you not assure me that you were to visit London? Instead, you went to Bristol.'
Isham's expression changed at once, and India felt contrite. 'Oh, I beg your pardon!' she said quickly. 'My remark was intended as a joke...' She could not think how else she might have annoyed him.
'I know
it.' He slipped his arms about her and held her close. 'I didn't deceive you, India. I did go to London too.' There was something in his voice which warned her not to pursue the subject, but all thought of it was banished as he found her lips.
It was a passionate embrace, and she was breathless when he released her. 'Will you do something for me?' he murmured against her hair.
'What is that?' She nestled comfortably against his shoulder.
'Don't change your gown when we dine this evening. I want to remember you always as you look today.'
'That is a very small request, my lord.' India laughed up at him, oddly proud that he had approved of her choice. Again he had surprised her. She had not thought him sentimental.
At the Grange the servants had lined up on the steps to greet the happy couple. India spoke to each of them, remembering those names she knew and vowing to herself that she would soon learn the others.
Then she went upstairs to throw off her fabulous fur-lined travelling cloak, yet another extravagant wedding present from Isham.
Out of habit she had turned towards the door of her old room, but Nan forestalled her, peeping from the entrance of the largest suite upon the first floor.
'This is to be your room, my lady.'
'Oh, yes, of course.' India entered the luxuriously appointed chamber feeling rather foolish. She had been forcibly reminded that privacy could be hers no longer. Now she must share her bedroom with Anthony.
A fire was burning merrily in the grate and Nan had unpacked India's night-clothes. Now she looked anxiously at her mistress.
'Which gown will you wear this evening, madam?'
'I believe I shall not change. His lordship prefers that I continue to wear my wedding-gown. Nan, will you do my hair for me?'
Nan turned away from the bed, where she had been slipping something beneath the pillow.
'What are you doing?' India asked curiously.
The girl blushed. "Tis an old country custom, my lady. Just a lucky charm. I hope you don't mind.'
India shook her head, but the implications were not lost on her. She guessed that it was a fertility charm. She sat in silence as Nan dressed her hair. Then she went down to join her husband.
'Dinner will be served quite soon,' he said. 'Are you hungry?'
'Not very.'
'You must try to eat, my love. This has been an exhausting day for you, and we have an early start tomorrow. I would not have you feeling faint.'
Isham kept the conversation light as the meal was served, sensing that his bride was feeling extremely nervous. His talk was all of Giles and Letty, discussing the management of the estate upon the one hand, and Letty's prospects of happiness upon the other. His strategy succeeded, and India found that she was able to respond to him with no feelings of constraint.
It was as they were about to move into the salon that a thunderous knocking sounded at the door.
Isham raised an eyebrow as he looked at his butler.
'I'll see to it, my lord.' Tibbs disappeared, but he was back within minutes.
'There is a gentleman to see you, sir.'
'Tell him to go away.'
'My lord, he has refused to do so.' Tibbs proffered a card upon a silver tray.
As Isham examined it his face grew dark, He rose to his feet at once.
'Forgive me, India. I shall not be long.' With that he strode away.
Chapter Eleven
India sat alone at the dining-table for some time. What could be keeping Isham? She began to pace the room.
The strain of the last few weeks had been intense, and her nerves were at breaking point. Even the surroundings of her childhood home no longer seemed familiar. All had changed, as her own life had changed.
Only this morning she had been India Rushford.
*
Now, in a few short hours and with the blessing of the church, she had become the Lady Isham, wed to a man who, however kind and generous, was still a stranger. It seemed unreal.
Then she pulled herself together. This had been her own decision. She had accomplished her objective. Her family had fared better than she'd had any right to hope. Now there was just the last, and greatest, hurdle to overcome. Before this night was over she must give herself to Isham.
She rang the bell, asked that tea be served to her in the salon, and left the dining-room.
As she crossed the hall she noticed that the door to the study was firmly closed. Beyond it she heard voices. Isham's late visitor was keeping him well beyond what might be considered a reasonable length of time. She considered making an appearance in the study and then thought better of it.
As she sat down and began to pour her tea the voices grew louder. To her dismay she found that the door which led from the study to the salon was ajar. She moved across the room to close it and then she stopped, fearing that she could not do so without drawing attention to herself.
Isham was speaking and the tone of his voice made her blood run cold. It was icy with contempt.
'You must wait,' he said. 'Tomorrow I go into Cheshire. Your affairs must wait until I return.'
'But they won't wait. Anthony, I have explained at length. If you don't help me now I shall be ruined.'
'You should have thought of that before you embarked upon your present career. I can do nothing for you at this time.'
'Oh, I think you will. Would you bring disgrace upon the family? Your new bride will find it hard to bear.'
'Blackmail, Henry? Don't even think of it. You have mistaken your victim, I assure you. I have listened to you at length. Now you will hear me out.'
India cringed as the inexorable voice went on. She had not thought it possible to flay another human being so completely. Much of it she did not understand. The references to corruption, to deceit, and to bringing disgrace upon compatriots were all a mystery to her. What she could not mistake was the inhuman way in which Isham stripped his brother of all decency and pretensions to honour. Shaking with horror, she covered her ears, but it was impossible to ignore those cutting tones.
At last she could stand it no longer. She threw open the door and walked towards the two men.
'Please don't!' she begged. 'Don't quarrel on this day above any other. Anthony, this is our wedding day.'
Isham spun round to face her, and she recoiled. The dark face was a mask of anger.
'Leave us, India!' he snarled. 'This matter is no concern of yours.'
All colour drained from India's cheeks. She did not recognise the man who stood before her. It did not seem impossible that he would strike her. Without a word she turned and fled.
She was sitting by the dying embers of the bedroom fire when he came to her at last. Nan had undressed her and robed her in her lace-trimmed nightgown and the flimsy negligee. She had been unaware of it.
All her thoughts were upon the man who was now her husband. Tonight she had seen the dark side of his character, and she had been both shocked and terrified. Brute ferocity was the only way she could describe his manner. Her first impressions had been right. She should have trusted them and not allowed herself to be lulled into a sense of false security by Isham's soft words and his generosity. Why, she had actually been on the verge of liking him. She shuddered.
'You are cold?' The deep voice held no trace of anger. 'You should not have allowed the fire to die, my dear.'
He threw some sticks upon the embers. They blazed at once, turning the fiery mass of India's hair into a flaming glory, but no warmth could melt her stricken heart.
Isham knelt beside her and took her hands in his. Then he gave a muttered exclamation and reached down to touch her feet. 'You are chilled to the bone, India. Why did you not go to bed?'
Mutely, she shook her head. She hated his very presence in the room and longed for him to go away.
Isham looked at her averted face. 'Won't you forgive me?' he said quietly. 'I forgot myself tonight. I had no right to speak to you so roughly, but I had been tried beyond endurance. Will you allow me to
explain?'
'There is no need,' she said in jerky tones. What could he say that would take away the memory of that dreadful scene? She knew him now. At any time he might turn and rend her with his cutting tongue. It would destroy her just as surely as it must have destroyed his brother.
'Then come to bed, my darling.' He raised her to her feet, but as he slipped an arm about her waist she shrank away. A hand tightened upon her shoulder and he turned her to face him. Then he looked deep into her eyes. His own were fathomless.
'What is this?' he asked quietly. 'Do you find me so repulsive, India?'
'No...I...I'm sorry! I did not mean to flinch.'
'Bravery indeed!' His hands had fallen from her shoulders, and his face was a mask of stone. 'Have I been mistaken in you, my dear? I had hoped to find straight dealing, and although I knew you did not love me, I flattered myself that you were growing to like me better.'
'I was!' India's feelings could no longer be contained. 'I was until tonight! That was a brutal exhibition of anger, sir. I had not thought to see such from a civilised human being.'
'I would not have had you witness it for the world.'
'I am sure that you would not. You have been clever, my lord, in hiding your true nature from my family. How easily we have been deceived...!'
'You have been deceived?' He gave a bitter laugh. 'I must claim the prize in that department. Did you not promise to trust me, to be my friend as well as my wife?'
'I won't go back on our bargain,' she told him steadily. 'I will be your wife...'
'You will condescend to share my bed? That is a noble sacrifice, but I shall not take advantage of it.'
India stared at him.
'Surprised, my dear? Believe me, to date I have not found it necessary to force my attentions upon an unwilling partner.'
India stood before him with her head held high, but two spots of colour burned upon her cheeks as she awaited a torrent of vituperation.
Isham said very little to her that night, but when he spoke it was to the point, and his tone was bitter.
'India, you are a cheat! I know your anger for what it is, merely an excuse to refuse me. Was not that your intention from the first?'
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