Lady Folbroke's Delicious Deception

by Christine Merrill

  ‘I am always serious, sir. You comment often on my lack of humour.’

  ‘It was never an issue, when we met,’ Adrian reminded him. ‘On the Peninsula, you were quite good company.’

  ‘And you never used to be such a damned fool.’ The blow seemed to come from nowhere as Hendricks kicked the brandy bottle from his hand. It hit the floor with a thump, and Adrian could hear the glug of the liquid spilling from it, and the smell of it soaking into the rug.

  ‘Perhaps not.’ Adrian stood, straightening to full height and taking a step forwards, knowing that whether he saw it or not, he still towered over his friend. It would not be wise to let him think he could strike twice. ‘But then I did not have to worry about you lying to me to cement your position with my wife. You have known of this charade from the beginning, haven’t you?’

  ‘Of course. Because I am not blind.’ Hendricks had added the last to goad him, he was sure.

  ‘I can think of only one reason that you would go along with such nonsense. Rupert told me, yesterday, that Emily was with child.’

  Hendricks gave a hiss of surprise, and stifled an oath.

  ‘And I assume that the child is yours, and that you rushed her to London so that she might lie with me as well and there would be some assumption of legitimacy.’ Adrian laughed. ‘Why you would think such a thing might work, I have no idea. I do not need my eyesight to count to nine.’

  Hendricks swore aloud now, as Adrian had not heard him do since their days in the army. ‘You really are an idiot, Folbroke. And it amazes me that I had not noticed it before now. Do you wish to hear how I found your wife, when I went to her today?’

  ‘The truth from you would be a welcome change,’ Adrian snapped back.

  ‘Very well, then. When I saw her this morning, she was nothing like that silly picture you carry of her. The miniature that you have worn to the bone with your fondling is of a rather plain, ordinary young girl. But the woman I saw today was fresh from bed, and wearing nothing but a blue silk wrapper. She had tied it tight under her breasts in a way that left little to the imagination. And as she sat, the skirt slipped open and I could see her ankles, and the slope of her bare calf.’

  Adrian’s hand clenched, wishing that he had the bottle again so that he could strike out at the voice and shut the man’s mouth for good.

  ‘She took the letters you sent her, and read both of them in quick succession. She sighed over them. She kissed them. She all but made love to the paper while I stood there like an idiot, admiring her body and wishing that just once she might give me an instruction that did not involve running back to you. But nothing has changed. In regards to men other than the Earl of Folbroke, she is every bit as blind as you are to her.’

  ‘So you know nothing about this supposed child?’

  There was a long pause, as though the next words were difficult. ‘She has been faithful to you. From the moment you married. I would stake my life on it. There is no way she can be pregnant.’

  ‘But at White’s, Rupert said—’

  Hendricks cut him off. ‘If you had used the brains you used to have, you would consider the source of the rumour, and remember that your cousin is an even bigger fool than you.’

  To the trained ear of someone who had no choice but to listen, there was as much emotion in the last speech as there had been in the first. Regret, frustration and jealousy of a husband so unworthy of the devotion he had received from his beautiful wife.

  Adrian knew the feelings, for he had felt them himself when he’d thought of Emily.

  ‘You are right,’ Adrian said at last. ‘If there is any truth at all, or any explanation that can be made, I should have asked her for it, rather than trusting the man who wants nothing more than to ensure that I do not have a child. And I think I understand your reasons for leaving me as well.’ For how awkward would it be if Adrian apologised to his wife and they all went back to Derbyshire together. The two of them, living side by side in the same house, both loving the same woman? And all the worse for Hendricks, forced to witness their happiness, and to know that though Adrian was his equal in ability and his inferior in temperament, he had the superior rank, and the unwavering love of his countess.

  He put the thoughts of Emily aside for the moment and said, ‘You will have letters of reference, of course. And anything you might need.’

  ‘I have already written them.’

  Adrian laughed. ‘I expected no less from you. You are damned efficient, when you set about to do something.’ He stepped over the bottle on the floor and gripped the man by the hand. ‘I trust that I was effusive in my praise of you. And generous in my severance?’

  ‘Of course, my lord.’

  ‘I expected nothing less of me. You have been invaluable as an aide. And you shall always be welcome in my house, as a guest, should you ever wish to return there.’

  ‘I do not think I will be back for some time,’ Hendricks said. ‘If things go as I expect, you will be too busy for company, at least until after the new year.’

  ‘Next year, then. The fishing is good in the run at Folbroke. You still fancy trout, do you not?’

  ‘I do indeed, my lord.’

  ‘Then you must be sure that the money I give to you in parting is enough so that you might live comfortably on it for twelve months and then visit me as a man of leisure before taking another post. I will not take no for an answer.’

  ‘Of course, my lord.’ It would have felt deuced odd to touch the man’s face, after all these years. But suddenly, as though there had been a change between them, it was hard to read any truth in Hendricks’s words. Adrian had heard the worry and frustration plain in the man’s voice for so long that the sudden absence of it was like a void in the room. It had been foolish of him to think that there could ever be mockery or cruel deception. ‘Hendricks, I am sorry. I understand that I have not been an easy master …’

  ‘Lord Folbroke. There is no need—’

  He held up a hand to forestall the man’s excuses. ‘It is true. But there will be no more nonsense after today. If you mean to leave me in the hands of my good wife, I will be an amiable man and not trouble her unnecessarily.’

  ‘Very good, my lord.’ There was blessed relief in the man’s voice, as though he had given him compensation beyond money in that one little plan.

  ‘Of course, I shall have to square things away again, after the mess I’ve just made of this interview.’ He dropped out the statement in the most offhand way possible, as though the entire staff had not heard the argument that had just ensued. ‘Eston has taken her back to his town house, I assume?’

  ‘I believe so, sir. I could send for her, if you wish.’

  ‘No, that is quite all right. I will go to her.’

  ‘I will have the carriage brought round.’

  ‘No.’ An idea had suddenly occurred to him. ‘It is less than a mile from here. And the night is clear, is it not?’

  ‘Yes, my lord.’

  ‘Then I shall walk.’

  ‘I will have a footman accompany you.’

  Adrian stood and reached out to grip his old friend’s arm. ‘If you mean to leave me to my own devices, then I will have to learn to do without you.’ Although damned if he knew how. ‘The streets are not crowded. And I remember the way. I will go alone.’

  ‘Very good, sir.’ There was only a trace of doubt in Hendricks’s voice, which Adrian took to mean that he was not suggesting something beyond the realm of possibility. It was something he had never tried, of course. But his sight was unlikely to get any better. It was high time he learned to navigate the city. They walked together into the front hall, and instead of Parker coming to aid him, he felt the familiar hands of Hendricks helping him into his topcoat and handing him his hat and gloves. Then the door opened, and he sent Adrian on his way with a pat on the back.

  And almost as an afterthought, there came from behind him a soft, ‘Take care of her, Adrian.’

  ‘I mean to, John.’ Then
he walked down the steps to the pavement and set out into what might as well have been a wilderness, for all he knew of it.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Four steps down, to the street. He felt the edge of the kerb with his cane and stepped a little back from it. And now, a left. It would be two roads down in this direction, he remembered, before turning onto the busier street ahead. He listened closely as he set out, to gauge his surroundings. It was more difficult in darkness than it might have been in the light, for he could not use the rays of the sun to set a direction.

  But for this first trip, it was better to be out when the way was not so crowded. He heard a single walker on the other side of the street from him, and remembered that he would have to be cautious of footpads and cutpurses. Though the areas he travelled were good ones, not all that ventured out after dark could be trusted.

  He tapped ahead of him with his stick, to make sure there were no obstacles, and set out at a pace that was slower than normal, but still little different from a stroll. He almost stumbled, as the pavement gave way in another kerb. But then he caught himself and stood, looking both ways for changes in the shadows that obscured his sight, and listening for the sound of horses’ hooves and the rattle of carts or carriages.

  When he was sure there was nothing, he made sure his course was straight, stepped forwards, and made an uneventful crossing, gaining the opposite side. He proceeded for a little while longer in the same fashion, before everything began to go wrong.

  He could hear the increase of traffic around him as the way became busier. While most passers-by gave him a safe space to walk in, he was occasionally jostled and forced to adjust his pace to those around him. The changes in speed made it harder to keep a straight course, and the corner seemed to come much sooner than he expected. Had he passed two or three streets?

  Suddenly, he felt a hand, light as a moth’s touch, on the pocket that held his purse.

  He caught the tiny wrist easily in the fingers of his left hand. ‘Here, you. What are you about?’

  ‘Please, sir. I didn’t mean nothing.’ A child. A girl? No. A boy. He was sure of it; though the wrist he held was bony, it did not feel delicate, and the sleeve that it jutted from was rough wool.

  ‘You just choose to walk with your hand in my pocket, then? No more of this nonsense, boy. You meant to have my purse. And now the Runners shall have you.’

  ‘Please, sir …’ there was the loud, wet sniff of a child who was near tears and with a perpetual cold ‘… I didn’t mean any harm. And I was hungry.’

  ‘And I am blind, not stupid. And certainly not as insensate as you expected. I am much harder to sneak up upon, because I pay better attention to small things such as you.’ He gave a frustrated sigh to persuade the boy that he was serious in his intent, but not without sympathy. Then he said, ‘If you want to avoid the law, then you had best prove your worth. I am walking to St James’s Square. Do you know the way?’

  ‘Yes, sir. Of course.’

  ‘Then take my hand and lead me the rest of the distance. Keep a sharp eye out and steer me clear of any pickpockets. And I will know if you lead me wrong, so do not try it, or it will be off to the Runners with you.’ Then he pretended to soften. ‘But if you lead me right, there will be a shilling for you, and a nice dinner.’ And at the sound of another sniff, he added, ‘And a clean handkerchief.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  He felt a small hand creep into his, and a tug, as the boy turned him, and set off at a brisk pace in the other direction. After a while, he could tell that the boy was honest, for the sounds around him and the echoes off the buildings of the square changed to something more like he had expected.

  It annoyed him that, in his first outing, he had proved himself unable to find a house he had visited hundreds of times. Perhaps that meant that he was as helpless as he feared, a useless invalid that would only be a burden to his wife.

  Or perhaps it proved that he would manage as best he could, under the circumstances. In any case, it had been better than hiding in his bedroom. Even having accepted aid, he felt an unaccustomed sense of power.

  The boy read off the numbers to him as they passed, and then led him up to the door he specified. ‘Here we are, sir.’ The boy was hesitating as though afraid to lift the knocker.

  For a moment, Adrian hesitated as well, then mounted the step and fumbled and then grabbed the ring, giving a sharp rap against the wood. ‘Very good.’

  ‘Lord Folbroke?’ The butler’s greeting was unsure, for it had been a long time since he’d visited. And if the servants’ gossip here was as effective as it was in his own home, the whole household must be buzzing since the return of his wife and her brother.

  Adrian gave a nod of affirmation and held out his hat, hoping that the man could understand the nature of his difficulty by the vagueness of his gaze. ‘And an associate,’ he said, gesturing down to the boy with his other hand. ‘Could someone take this young man to the kitchen and feed him? And give him the shilling I have promised him.’ He glanced down in the general direction of the child and heard another sniff. ‘And wipe his nose.’

  Then he reached out, and found the boy’s shoulder, giving it a pat. ‘And you, lad. If you are interested in honest work, some might be found for you in my house.’ If he meant to walk the city in future, a guide would not go amiss. And he suspected a child of the streets should know them better than most.

  ‘Yes, sir,’ the boy answered.

  ‘Yes, my lord,’ Adrian corrected. ‘Now get some dinner into yourself and wait until I can figure what is to be done with you.’

  Then he turned back, looking down the entrance hall of his brother-in-law’s home and trying to remember what he could of the arrangement. The butler stood behind him, still awaiting an explanation. ‘Is my wife in residence?’ he asked. ‘I wish to speak with her.’

  He suspected the man had nodded, for there was no immediate answer, so he tipped his head and prompted, ‘I am sorry, I could not hear that.’

  The man cleared his throat. ‘Yes, my lord. If you would wait in the salon …’

  Adrian felt the touch on his arm, and shrugged it away. ‘If you would describe the way to me, I prefer to walk under my own power.’ The man gave him instructions, and Adrian reached out with his stick to tap the way into the sitting room.

  As he crossed the threshold, he heard a gasp from the left, on the other side of the hall. Higher than it should be. There were stairs, certainly. And a woman in soft slippers, running down them with short light steps.

  ‘Adrian.’ Her voice was breathless and girlish, as he had remembered it, as though she could not quite overcome the awe she felt, and her pace was that of his eager young bride.

  But now, before she reached him, she slowed herself so he would not think her too tractable, and changed her tone. ‘Adrian.’ In a few paces she had changed from the girl he’d left to the woman who had come to London for him. She was still angry with him. And pretending to be quite unimpressed with his arrival.

  ‘You notice I have come to you.’ He held his arms wide for her, hoping that she would step into them.

  ‘It is about time,’ she said. ‘According to David, you never visit him here any more, though it is not far, and the way is not unknown to your coachman. Not an onerous journey at all. Hardly worthy of comment.’

  He stepped a little closer to inhale her scent. Lemons. His mouth watered for her. ‘I did not request a coach. The night is clear, the breeze fresh. And so I walked.’

  He thought he heard a faint gasp of surprise.

  ‘I very nearly got lost along the way. But there was a boy in the street, trying to pick my pocket. And so I caught him, and forced him to help me.’

  Now he could imagine the little quirk of her mouth, as though she said the next stern words through half a smile. ‘That was very resourceful of you. There is no shame, you know, admitting that you need help from time to time. Nor should a minor setback on the journey keep you from taking it.’


  ‘Trying to teach me independence, are you?’

  ‘I think you do not need teaching in that. It is dependence that you fear.’

  ‘True enough.’ It had made him resist her for far too long. ‘It was wrong of you to lie to me, you know. I felt quite foolish, to think I had been seducing my own wife.’ And now he had wrong footed it, for that sounded like she was not worth the effort.

  The smile was gone from her voice. ‘If you had not kept the truth from me in the first place, then I would not have needed to lie to you. And I doubt you’d have bothered to seduce me at all, had you known who I was. If the first week of our marriage was any indication of our future, you’d have grown bored and left me by now.’ Her voice was smaller, and with the breathless lack of confidence that he remembered from the girl he had married. Then there was the tiniest sniff, as though she might have a tear in her eye at the thought, but it was stifled and replaced with the firmer resolve of the new Emily. ‘And I would have found a less tame lover to satisfy me.’

  Damn the woman. He had forgotten her assessment of his abilities, in the early days of their union. And she had chosen to remind him of it, in a common hallway where anyone might hear. He stepped the rest of the way into the salon and pulled her in after him, closing the door so that they could be alone together. Then he let the heat of anger spread lower in him, to change to another kind of heat entirely. ‘Or you would have learned to speak aloud what you wished from me, so that you were sure I understood. I am blind, you know, and need an understanding woman.’ He tried to sound pitiful.

  But she was having none of it. ‘Your eyes were good enough when we married, and yet you were blind to my charms.’

  ‘Which are considerable,’ he added. ‘Given a little time, I’d have discovered them. It is far more likely that I would have crept away to London by now just to get some rest.’ He leaned closer to her, so that he could whisper into her ear, ‘I swear, after only a week in your company, I am exhausted by your appetites.’