Lady Beneath the Veil

by Sarah Mallory

  ‘Carry on with your life as before,’ he said. ‘I don’t believe in ladies mollycoddling themselves just because they are increasing. You are a healthy young woman, exercise and fresh air will do you more good than lying on a daybed. Your body will tell you what you can and cannot do, but you should not need to make any changes just yet.’

  She had no intention of making changes, but Gideon had already done so. He had not shared her bed since the day she had told him about the baby. She could only assume that he considered his duty done now, until she had given birth. Her hands moved over her belly: in a few months it would be swollen with their growing child.

  A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts and she reached quickly for her dressing gown.

  ‘Come in.’

  Gideon entered. He was smiling.

  ‘I have been talking to Harris. He agrees with your assessment that the child is due in December.’

  ‘Are you pleased, Gideon?’ she asked him shyly.

  ‘Do you doubt it?’ He came forwards and put his hands on her shoulders. ‘I am delighted.’

  ‘Then so, too, am I,’ she said, smiling up at him.

  He hesitated before lowering his head to kiss her. Tentatively she put her arms about him and felt his hands tighten on her shoulders. Her body tingled with anticipation as she felt his fingers close upon the wrap, as if he was about to push the thin silk from her shoulders and expose her nakedness. Her disappointment was searing when instead he gently put her away from him.

  ‘Delighted,’ he said again, smiling awkwardly down at her. ‘I must go. I have work to do. How do you amuse yourself today?’

  She turned away so that he should not see how his rejection had hurt her.

  ‘I am going to Grosvenor Square to take tea with Gwendoline before we drive in the park.’

  ‘Then we shall meet again at dinner.’ He walked to the door.

  ‘You haven’t forgotten that we go to Knightson House tonight?’

  He turned to look at her. ‘You won’t be too fatigued?’

  ‘Of course not.’ But I would much rather stay here with you.

  She drew a breath, trying to frame her thoughts into words. ‘But I would happily remain here, if you would rather not go?’

  ‘No, no, you wish to go and I shall be delighted to escort you.’ He smiled, gave a little bow and left her.

  * * *

  Dominique sank down on to the stool and stared into the mirror. Gideon was so polite, so distant. Not only did he avoid her room at night, but he rarely touched her now—the kiss he had just given her was a mere brushing of the lips. Her own had parted, but he had immediately drawn back, as if repulsed by the contact. Was Max right—did he want to go back to his bachelor existence? She wondered if she should tell him how much she missed his attentions, but she was afraid the admission would push him still further away. If the married ladies of her acquaintance were to be believed then a wife should keep her husband at a distance, never for one moment let him think she desired him. She must remain aloof, unattainable. Could that be true, when all her instincts told her the opposite?

  Whenever she was with Gideon she wanted to put her arms about him, to touch him and kiss him. Such public displays were frowned upon. It might have been thirty years ago, but the Duchess of Devonshire’s scandalous behaviour was still talked of—when, as a young bride, she had danced across the room to sit upon her husband’s knee. If a duchess could not indulge in such forward behaviour, how much worse would it be for an ordinary lady, and one who was only half English? Gideon already had a deep hatred for the French, she must not give him even more cause to despise her. Sighing, she pushed herself up off the stool and went into the dressing room. She would talk to Gwendoline. When they were alone she would ask her again just what was and wasn’t acceptable behaviour in a wife.

  * * *

  Dominique had lost no time in unburdening herself to her sister-in-law and had finished explaining her dilemma even before her teacup was empty. Lady Ribblestone was sympathetic.

  ‘You are in love with Gideon.’

  Dominique nodded miserably.

  ‘Yes, I believe I am.’

  ‘Oh, my poor girl.’

  ‘I know,’ murmured Dominique, trying not to cry. ‘If Gideon knew of it, he would feel sorry for me and I do not think I could bear that.’

  ‘Of course not.’ Gwendoline sat for a moment, staring into space. ‘Now, let us consider your problem. What is it you want from Gideon?’

  ‘I suppose it is too much to hope that he might fall in love with me.’ Seeing Gwen’s doubtful look, she sighed. ‘I know I cannot expect him to spend all his time with me, but I should like us to be...to remain friends.’

  ‘Then you must make a life for yourself, show him you go on very well without him. A man does not like a miserable companion, but if he sees you are cheerful and content then he will be happy to spend time in your company.’

  ‘Is that possible?’

  ‘Oh, Lord, yes. It is the best one can hope for.’ Gwendoline went quiet, as if contemplating what she had just said, but after a few moments she shook off her reverie. ‘You could take a lover.’

  ‘I do not want a lover,’ retorted Dominique, her cheeks burning.

  ‘No, perhaps that is for the best,’ Gwen agreed with her. ‘Gideon would be very likely to blame it on your French blood. However, it will do no harm if the gentlemen show a preference for you, my love, and they are already doing so. My efforts to turn you into a success seem to be working. Why, Lady Grayson told me how many gentlemen wanted to dance with you last night. But it is not just the gentlemen, every hostess in town is eager for your presence.’

  ‘They are curious to see the bride Max foisted upon Gideon,’ said Dominique bitterly.

  ‘Those rumours are well and truly forgotten now, I assure you. They see you as the rich and fashionable Mrs Albury and, of course, as a future viscountess. Everyone is charmed by you and there is no better way to punish your mischievous cousin than to become society’s darling.’

  ‘I do not think I shall be going about in society for very much longer,’ admitted Dominique. ‘You see, I am...I am in an interesting state.’

  ‘Already? Are you sure?’

  Gwendoline’s shocked response brought the colour flooding to Dominique’s face again.

  ‘Yes, but I would be grateful if you kept it to yourself, at least for a while.’

  ‘Of course, my dear—but that is wonderful news. Does Gideon know?’

  ‘Yes, I told him immediately.’

  ‘And is he pleased?’

  ‘I think so.’

  ‘Well, that is a relief. I have no doubt he will want to take you to Rotham soon, to make you known to Papa. And you had best get used to standing up for yourself, for I doubt if Gideon will stay long with you there.’

  Dominique felt her spirits sinking.

  ‘That is what Max said. He s-said Gideon would be glad to be rid of me, so he could go back to his old life.’

  ‘The Earl of Martlesham is an odious mischief-maker,’ said Gwendoline frankly. ‘Gideon’s behaviour since he brought you to town cannot be faulted. He has been a model husband in public.’

  ‘But only because he wants to show everyone that we are happily married. What if...what if he comes back to town and sets up a mistress?’ stammered Dominique, voicing her deepest fear.

  ‘That is a risk we all have to take,’ said Gwendoline. She sighed. ‘Not that Ribblestone has one, he is far too wedded to his politics. No, be advised by me—you must not show any tendency to cling to Gideon. And enjoy your remaining time in town as much as you can. Once you are immured in Buckinghamshire there is no telling when you will get away again. Heavens, is that the time? My coachman will be at the door any moment to take us to the park. And aft
er that I shall drop you at Brook Street. You and Gideon are promised to attend the Knightsons’ ball this evening, are you not? You must have plenty of time to change into another of those delectable gowns of yours. Everyone will be watching to see what new creation you will be wearing.’

  Dominique laughed.

  ‘There will be dozens of ladies there equally well dressed.’

  ‘One or two, perhaps, but few can carry off the vibrant colours we have chosen for you. It makes you stand out in the crowd.’

  ‘I am not sure I want to stand out, Gwen.’

  ‘Of course you do. Gideon has already told me how proud he is of his fashionable wife.’

  ‘Has he? Has he really?’

  Gwen laughed and patted her hands.

  ‘Yes, really, so let us not disappoint him!’

  * * *

  The Knightsons’ midsummer ball was a crowded affair, but Dominique had so many acquaintances in town now that she was not overawed by the throng of people jostling to get into the ballroom. Her confidence was boosted by Gideon’s compliments when they had arrived at Knightson House and she removed her cloak. She was wearing a new gown of green silk, a perfect match for the emeralds Gideon had given her on their first night in town, and she had piled her dark hair upon her head with just one glossy curl falling upon her bare shoulder.

  ‘You continue to delight me, my dear,’ he said, raising her hand to his lips.

  She blushed at the compliment. He might well have spoken for the benefit of the other guests milling around them, but there was no mistaking the warmth in his eyes when he looked at her and she entered the ballroom with a smile on her lips and a song in her heart.

  Her happiness continued when Gideon led her out for the first two dances and after that she was content for him to dance with his sister and other ladies of their acquaintance. Dominique herself was not short of partners, but by supper time she was eager to find her husband again. Her diminutive height proved a disadvantage as she pushed her way through the crowd, standing on tiptoe to try to see Gideon’s tall figure. A slight jostling occurred and as she stepped back to avoid a cheerfully inebriated couple her heel came down upon someone’s toe.

  ‘Oh, I beg your pardon!’ She swung around, an apologetic smile on her lips. The gentleman standing behind her was a stranger, but he was laughing.

  ‘C’est rien. Madame...Albury, is it not?’ He made her a bow. ‘We have not been introduced, but in such circumstances...Raymond Lamotte, madame, à votre service. This is most fortunate. I have been wanting to talk to you.’

  ‘To me?’ She studied the young man before her. He was of average height and darkly handsome with his raven hair, cropped à la Brutus.

  ‘Mais oui, madame. One could not help hearing the rumours...’ He looked a little self-conscious. ‘You are the daughter of a Frenchman, are you not?’ Dominique was no longer concerned for the man’s appearance. Seeing her intense look, he spread his hands. ‘I fled from my beloved France several years ago. It broke my heart to do so, but...’ he gave a shrug ‘...it is not the great country it once was.’

  ‘N-no, indeed,’ she murmured.

  He glanced around.

  ‘It is difficult to speak here, it is so crowded. Perhaps, could I beg the honour of escorting you to supper?’

  It took Dominique only a moment to decide. Gideon was nowhere to be seen and this young man was watching her so hopefully.

  ‘Of course, monsieur.’

  The supper room was very busy, but her companion led her to a small table in one of the alcoves. An elegant supper was laid before her, but Dominique hardly noticed, for she was soon lost in reminiscences about France. Raymond Lamotte was eager to talk and she guessed that he was homesick, as she had been when she first came to England.

  ‘Of course it was easier for me,’ she told him. ‘I was a child, just ten years old, and my English mother had tried to ensure that I was familiar with the ways of this country. For you, monsieur, it must have been so much more painful.’

  ‘It was. I did not wish to quit France but what could I do? My friends were imprisoned, or worse. At first I was in favour of the revolution. The country needed to change, mais oui, but then came the Terror and the execution of the poor King and Queen—it was too much. The change was going too far.’

  ‘That is exactly what Papa thought,’ exclaimed Dominique. ‘But his views were too moderate and no one wanted to listen.’

  ‘So he brought you to England?’ He raised his hand and signalled to the waiter to refill their glasses.

  ‘No.’ Dominique waited until they were alone again, pleased for the delay so that she could muster her thoughts. ‘He arranged for Mama and me to come here while he remained in France.’ She added quietly, ‘We have not heard from him for ten years.’

  ‘Ah, I see. Je regrette—’

  She raised her hand, fending off his sympathy. Glancing up, she noticed with surprise that the supper room was almost empty.

  ‘Oh, dear, how the time has flown,’ she said. ‘The dancing will begin again soon. Thank you, Monsieur Lamotte, I have enjoyed our conversation, but I must get back.’

  ‘Of course, I shall escort you.’ He rose and held out his arm to her. ‘If you will permit, I should like to talk more with you. It is so refreshing to be able to speak freely about my country with someone who loves it as I do.’

  She nodded, saying shyly, ‘I should like that too, sir.’

  ‘May I call upon you tomorrow morning?’

  ‘No!’ She stopped in alarm, imagining Gideon’s anger if a Frenchman should arrive at his door. ‘No, that is not possible.’ She swallowed, aware of his disappointment. ‘But perhaps...perhaps you will be walking in Green Park tomorrow, sir, at ten o’clock? It is a popular promenade.’

  ‘And...will you be there, Madame Albury, at ten o’clock?’

  ‘I will,’ she declared, stifling her conscience. After all, there could be no harm in them meeting in public. ‘I will be there.’

  ‘Then so, too, shall I,’ declared Monsieur Lamotte. They were entering the ballroom, where the musicians were already tuning up for the next set. He said, a laugh in his voice, ‘I would ask you to dance with me, but I fear I have taken far too much of your time already and see several gentlemen giving me the angry look.’

  She blushed and disclaimed, but did not seek to detain him. Even as she watched him walking away two young gentlemen came up, cheerfully vying with each other for the privilege of leading her out. Smiling, Dominique turned her thoughts away from Raymond Lamotte and gave herself up to the enjoyable task of choosing a dance partner.

  * * *

  ‘I am sorry I was not able to take you in to supper,’ said Gideon as they rode home later that night. ‘Anthony and I were caught up in a political discussion and I did not like to abandon him. I hope you found someone to look after you?’

  ‘Yes, I did, thank you.’

  Dominique struggled briefly with her conscience, wondering how she could explain to Gideon about Monsieur Lamotte, but even as she tried to frame her reply he took her hand, saying, ‘That’s good. I am glad you are finding your feet in town, Nicky.’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ she replied. ‘I go on much more comfortably, now I know so many people.’

  ‘Aye, I noticed you were never without a partner tonight.’ He laughed. ‘It will soon be that you will not have need of me to accompany you at all.’

  She turned, looking at his dark shape beside her as she said earnestly, ‘Oh, never say that, Gideon. I would not be half so comfortable if you were not with me.’

  He laughed and raised her hand to his lips.

  ‘Flatterer!’

  Did he really think that, or was he perhaps looking forward to the day when he could leave her to fend for herself and return to his old bachelor ways? Dominique long
ed to ask him, but she kept silent, fearful of his answer.

  Chapter Nine

  Dominique met Raymond in Green Park the following morning. They spoke only briefly, but arranged to meet again the next day, and the next. Raymond was a charming companion. Not only were his recollections of France quite riveting, but he was also interested in her own childhood memories, and since she dared not mention her French connections to Gideon it was a relief to be able to talk about her family with someone who understood what she had been through. Soon she felt that they were firm friends.

  However, they had very few acquaintances in common, so it was some weeks before they met again socially, at an evening party given by Lord and Lady Dortwood. Dominique spotted Raymond in the crowd, but although he acknowledged her with a faint nod the evening was well advanced before he came over to greet her.

  ‘I thought you would never ask me to dance,’ she said, when he led her out to join a new set.

  ‘I was not sure you would wish to acknowledge me,’ he murmured. ‘I see you are with your husband.’

  ‘Of course I will acknowledge you,’ she said, feeling the heat burning her cheeks. ‘I am not ashamed of knowing you!’

  She danced on, unsettled by the realisation that she had not mentioned her friendship with Raymond to anyone. Their morning walks in Green Park had so far excited no comment since they had never met anyone with whom Dominique was acquainted. Now it occurred to her that others might consider such meetings to be clandestine. That would not do, at all.

  When the dance ended she took Raymond’s arm and firmly led him across the room to where Gideon was waiting. She performed the introduction and after a short exchange Raymond moved away. Gideon lifted his quizzing glass to watch him go.

  ‘Where did you say you met him?’

  ‘At the Knightsons’ ball.’ She frowned up at him. ‘Really, Gideon, was it necessary to be so cold towards Monsieur Lamotte? You barely spoke half-a-dozen words to him.’