Luci did not know what to think, nor how to respond to both the confession and the subsequent apology. She merely looked at her untouched food and pondered how these past many weeks could have been very different if the Marquess had simply inconvenienced himself to speak to her.
“But that is now behind us,” she finally stammered, trying to regain her composure. “Tell me of yourself, of this house. It must have a long history.”
Luci did not miss the way a cloud of pain passed over Lord Ambergrave’s face, and his lack of response made her regret even asking. He eventually shrugged his shoulders lightly, frowning as he thought.
“There is not much to tell, I’m afraid,” Lord Ambergrave replied. “It is my family’s home, and it fell into disrepair in my absence on business.”
“Yes, I meant to ask that next. What sort of business?”
“Why all these questions?” the Marquess demanded sharply. Luci was taken aback for only a moment.
“Should a wife not be privy to at least the manner of business her husband conducts? I may not be aware of the innermost workings and finer details, but I should at least be capable of answering questions such as ‘what does your husband do?’ and ‘why is your husband gone from home for such lengthy periods of time?’ Do you not agree?” Luci pressed insistently.
“You may tell these imaginary people that your husband’s business is none of their concern,” he growled. The effect, rather than causing Luci to shrink, only emboldened her.
“What if one of these people—whom I can assure you are not, in fact, imaginary—should desire to become customers of your business?” she argued hotly. “What if you’re, perhaps, a coffin maker, and they’ve recently suffered a terrible loss and are in great need of a quality coffin at a reasonable price? I would have no words of comfort to offer while assuring them I could handle the purchase discreetly and at a goodly savings.”
“Madam, am I correct in understanding that if you’re presented with a grieving widow, your ‘words of comfort’ would include, ‘Never fear, I know a man who sells coffins at a significant discount?’” the Marquess asked, a look of disbelief on his face.
Instead of taking offense, Luci smiled. “My father is in business, I’ll have you know, and he has taught me that there is never a time when one should miss the opportunity to earn a customer’s coin. They might not be receptive to the notion when you first mention it, but they will be grateful when they have their wits about them.”
Lord Ambergrave looked aghast, and finally Luci could no longer contain her laughter. “I am speaking in jest, of course! No, I would never attempt to sell a coffin to a person enduring such agony as the loss of a dear relative or companion. I merely meant to exaggerate the importance of knowing what it is my own husband does for income that puts a roof over my head and food on my plate. It is considered a rather mundane detail that a wife should know.”
“This ‘mundane detail’ of which you blithely speak is rather personal,” he said, nodding, “though I can see your point of view. You need only know—and share with others—that my business interests are varied and vast. I invest in others’ companies, and make a steady profit from my careful ventures.”
“Fine. Then what of your family?” Luci asked, moving on to another subject of great importance to her. “You’ve met my parents, of course, but when shall I have the pleasure of meeting yours?”
Lord Ambergrave stiffened, and Luci immediately took note of the way his hands tightened into tense fists. One hand remained curled around the stem of his goblet and she feared for the safety of the glass.
“Oh dear,” she said very quietly, “I am sorry to have spoken to carelessly about them. I’m very sorry for your loss.”
The Marquess nodded, though Luci noted the way his jaw clenched painfully. Finally, he eased slightly, enough to say, “It is all right. You could not have known.”
“Do you wish to tell me what happened? Or just leave off?”
“I would prefer not to speak of them,” he answered, “though I ask that you do not take my reaction for insult or injury. They were very dear to me, and I have spent the years since their passing blaming myself for their deaths. As you can see, it is a subject I cannot converse about without great emotion and upset.”
“I understand completely,” Luci answered. “Again, you have my utmost sympathy and apologies for speaking of a painful matter.”
“It is quite all right,” Lord Ambergrave answered in a way that told her it was far from all right. Luci thought desperately for a subject to broach that would not be so upsetting as business and families.
“I’ve got it,” she said tenderly. “Your admiration of horses was rather evident when I heard you speaking in the stables. Tell me about them?”
The Marquess relaxed measurably and even ventured a smile. He began to speak at length—hesitantly at first, but more freely once he’d noted Luci’s eager reaction—about the horses he’d only just acquired, so much that Luci began to wonder if they were not part of this secret business of his. Soon, their talk turned to that of beloved horses they’d had over the years, their favorite places to ride, and more.
Before she realized how much time had passed, Luci yawned. The Marquess looked to the clock, alarmed.
“My apologies, My Lady, but I have kept you up far too late,” he said sincerely. “Let me see you upstairs and I’ll leave you to your rest now.”
Luci wanted to protest, but another yawn gave her away. Instead, she thanked the Marquess for the invitation to dine and rose to leave. As they exited the dining room, she asked Lord Ambergrave when they might have a chance to speak together again, surprising herself to find that she felt something similar to hope.
The pleasant sentiment of the dinner faded quickly.
“I shall be leaving tomorrow,” Lord Ambergrave informed her at the door to her chambers, his formal, distant manner returning now that the subject had once again returned to their own lives.
“Already? You only just returned!” Luci cried, indignant at her husband’s secretive behavior and eagerness to be gone from her.
“I must, I’m afraid. It involves urgent business, as well as a required stop in London,” the Marquess explained. His tone was no longer as stiff and uninviting as before, though his words were every bit as unwelcome. “I should not be gone more than a week, though.”
“I see,” Luci said quietly. She had every wish to lash out at him, but lacked the fervor at the late hour and after a pleasant evening. “I imagine this is to be my lot, then. Goodnight.”
“Lady Ambergrave,” he said, putting out a hand to stop her when she turned away, “I shall make it up to you upon my return.”
Luci paused, weighing her words carefully. “There’s no need for concern. If you must leave, then I understand. Goodnight.”
Watching Lady Ambergrave return to her rooms and close the door firmly behind her had an unexpected effect on Gideon. He stood silently as the echo of the door latching closed and a key turning in the lock resounded through the empty, cavernous hallway. Without warning, a surge of discomfort broke through him, causing him to question his very motives.
After all, Gideon had been so certain in his course of action. He was to return home, begin the repairs to Ashworth Hall, marry the woman of his choosing, and reenter noble society. What was so difficult about that?
He’d simply not accounted for the beauty, tenacity, and razor-like wit of his chosen bride.
Had I known she was both beautiful and brilliant, I would have gone to greater lengths to know of her person better before proposing marriage.
Luci was nothing like he’d imagined when he’d inquired about eligible young ladies in the ton through an acquaintance. He’d only learned that she was well-connected and well-respected, a serviceable bride who would carry no scandal with her name. But to discover that she was also a puzzle that he dared not solve was discomforting, to say the least. Her beauty had been the first but not the last remarkable thing he
’d noticed about her, and her intellect had followed quickly behind.
His plan was about to fall apart around him, and there was nothing Gideon could do to stop it.
Unless… if Gideon could somehow salvage this marriage and win over his bride, there might never be a need for anyone to know his true intentions. It was a desperate shift of thinking, to be sure, but from what he had seen of Luci, he felt certain his affection for her could be genuine after all.
There was only one facet he had not counted on, one that could stand to be quite the obstacle: who was this other man she’d claimed had a place in her heart? She had certainly been frosty towards him, and now the reason was painfully clear. But despite a friendly meal and pleasant conversation, Gideon had no reason to think her affection for this other man had subsided.
That fact could prove to be his undoing.
Chapter 10
Luci awoke with a start the following morning, her dream from the night before already fading in her memory. In it, she had felt the heat of a fire that was not of her control, one that burned without permission from man or woman. The smell of smoke had stung her nose and its acrid fumes had pricked at her eyes, but she had run blindly through it, looking for something that was always out of reach.
“My Lady,” Christina said softly as she entered the room, already dressed and holding a gown for Luci, “His Lordship has sent word that he is delaying his departure until after breakfast in order to see you this morning.”
“What does it matter?” Luci asked in a tired voice. “Before breakfast or after, he’ll be off on another journey, leaving me here to the emptiness of this house. I might as well take my breakfast in my room rather than primp for a man who plans to be gone before the tea is cool.”
“All the same, he is here now. So I suggest that you get dressed and appear at breakfast with a cheerful disposition.” Christina flung back the covers just as she’d done countless times when Luci was a child, petulant over rising and beginning her lessons.
“You know, I don’t actually require a governess. Your position in this household could be terminated at any time,” Luci threatened playfully, pretending to pout so that Christina knew it was in good fun. “I don’t require any help, as a matter of fact.”
“No, but you do require a lady’s maid and a friend who has managed to get in good stead with the servants. As such, I have managed to find out a lot of information about Lord Ambergrave,” Christina answered, whispering now.
“Information?” Luci asked, intrigued before slumping her shoulders in irritation. “Gossip, you mean. The most uncouth kind.”
“No, no. Idle gossip is meant to bring harm or sow the seeds of discontent,” Christina explained, looking around just to be sure no one had come in. “This information was shared with me in order to help us understand the Marquess all the better.”
“Tell me then,” Luci said, sitting up and paying heed. “What is this news we must know?”
“The repairs to the house, for instance. They are not the necessary result of ‘disrepair,’ as we might have believed.” Christina leaned closer. “There was a fire, many years ago. No one knows how it was set—though some have speculated it was no accident—but Lord Ambergrave was badly burned. He spent months at a retreat in Bavaria in order to heal from his wounds.”
“No! The poor man!” Luci uttered, horrified by the news. “If it were so long ago, surely he must have been only a lad himself. Where were his parents?”
“I dared not ask, knowing as I did that they are already deceased. It would be too gruesome for someone to tell me,” Christina explained, shaking her head sadly as though flinging the image from her mind of the elder Lord and Lady Ambergrave perishing in a fire. “No one ventured an explanation, so I did not inquire.”
“What else, then? Surely that must be the worst of the news.”
“No, I fear. You see, according to some, Lord Ambergrave carries a great weight on his shoulders… he blames himself for his parents’ death.” The governess looked visibly paler for a moment, and had Luci not known Christina’s strong countenance, she would have thought the woman might feel faint. “It is why he acts so strangely, having been gone for all these years, refusing to come back to this house until only now. Something changed in him, and he is now driven to bring back the respectability that this great estate and its occupants once commanded.”
“I don’t understand,” Luci said, furrowing her brow and thinking through Christina’s words.
“You, my dear,” Christina cried softly. “You are the path to Lord Ambergrave repairing the damage he believes he has inflicted.”
“Me? How would I have any part in it?” Luci asked, shocked. “I barely know the man, and I certainly did not know his family.”
“No, but you are the very key to opening the doors to polite society. He believes himself to be some sort of murderous villain, having destroyed everything good that this estate once held. With you as his beautiful, charming wife, he believes he shall follow meekly as you lead the way towards acceptance and reparation.”
“But… but that is such a twisted view. How can any man believe he must grovel before the ton to be accepted once again, when he did naught but suffer a terrible loss to his physical form and his heart?” Tears formed as Luci felt the sting of Lord Ambergrave’s broken past.
“Grief does terrible things to us all,” Christina answered forlornly. “It is a vile monster that follows us everywhere, breathing down our very necks with the hot stench of pain and loss. I know not what has brought Lord Ambergrave to this low point, and his servants did not offer much else than the basic facts that I shared with you. But it’s now up to you to surmise how you might help him heal from it.”
Luci flung back the covers and stood beside the bed, looking very determined. “You’re right, Christina, as always. Who other than I, someone who was raised in the very cradle of love and familial devotion, would be better suited to show the Marquess what it means to find happiness again? I shall strive to help him put the past behind him and regain a measure of the happiness he must have once enjoyed here.”
Together, she and Christina got her dressed and ready, and Luci headed downstairs to seek out the Marquess. He emerged from the foyer as Luci entered.
“Good morning, My Lord,” Luci said politely. “I have learned you were able to postpone your travels for but an hour so that we might see each other this morning. And so, I am here.”
Lord Ambergrave smiled, nodding his head in greeting. “I actually sought to delay my departure for an entire day, should that please you. I thought we might embark on a brief ride around the estate so that you might meet some of the new horses and see the countryside for yourself.”
Luci looked to Christina for guidance, then smiled eagerly. “Of course. I will put on something more suitable for riding once we have had our breakfast. But I would not wish for your business interests to be delayed on my account. I was in a sour state of mind last evening when I learned you were to depart again, but now I understand it is important to you.”
“Nonsense,” he answered, brushing off her concern with a slight wave of his hand. “I would far rather show you your new home than be gone a day sooner.”
Lord Ambergrave offered her his arm, and Luci hesitated for a moment before placing her hand in the crook of his elbow. A nervous flutter filled her middle as she walked with him into the morning room and sat down in a gilt-edged chair beside the window.
They dined and chatted pleasantly about unimportant things, long enough to prevent a droning silence from stretching on for too long. Soon, Luci took her leave to put on her riding attire, leaving her husband to wait for her.
When Luci returned to the mews to seek out Lord Ambergrave, she was disappointed to find the phaeton readied and the Marquess speaking to one of the newly hired stable hands. She approached with a slight frown, looking at the offending vehicle with scrutiny.
“I thought you had said we might go riding,” Luci said, loo
king at the open carriage and team of horses. “I had hoped to ride Jacques, and finally take him out on a vigorous ride.”
Lord Ambergrave looked away briefly and Luci once again saw a flash of discomfort in his expression. “I… do not ride, My Lady.”
“You do not ride? How is that possible?” she asked. “What means of conveyance do you depend upon when you must travel alone, or only a short distance? Surely you do not hitch a team for every excursion.”
“Yes, I do, in fact,” he answered, not looking at her.
“Did you somehow never learn to ride? Because I will be happy to show you, it’s not difficult at all—” Luci offered helpfully, but the Marques stopped her.
A Court of Thorns for Lady Ambergrave: A Historical Regency Romance Novel Page 8
