"But how do you know where they've gone?"
Adam shrugged. "It's late in the day and Allegra doesn't seem to indicate that she expects to be pursued. Gresham Park isn't too many hours outside of London. I'll wager he's taken her there."
Emily hesitated. "And if you're wrong? If they aren't there and she does spend a night with Gresham?"
A cold, flat look came into Adam's eyes. "I'll still bring her back. But Gresham won't be returning. I'm taking my sword and my pistols."
He turned and was gone, shouting for the servants.
Allegra looked up as the carriage slowed and took a sudden turn. Since they had left town Tristan had pulled the curtains in the carriage back, and she could see the sun was setting behind a row of gnarled oak trees. Their silhouettes seemed foreboding, and she suppressed a shudder. It was her imagination playing tricks on her. She had chosen her path and she had to make the best of it. There was no point in regretting it now.
"Awake, my dear?" Tristan's voice was smooth and friendly.
Allegra nodded. In truth she hadn't slept a wink. Instead she had been contemplating her future and what she might make of it. There seemed little hope of doing anything but being Tristan's companion during his sojourn in Europe. And what would happen if he tired of her? The thought of being cast adrift somewhere far from home was terrifying.
"We've arrived. The house is just ahead. I admit it looks a trifle grim in this light, but in the morning you'll see how lovely it is."
Allegra looked out the window again as the carriage bowled up the drive to a huge structure built of gray stone. It towered over them alarmingly, with great turrets and looming walls rearing dramatically up against the darkening sky. She shivered.
"It was built hundreds of years ago by a distant Norman ancestor," said Tristan conversationally. "He was engaged in the baron's revolt, and felt it necessary to construct some massive fortifications. Naturally, it's been added onto over the years and we don't use the oldest parts of it. They're far too uncomfortable. But the building does have its charms."
Allegra's eyes widened as the forbidding stone castle slipped by and they turned into a courtyard that was sheltered by a structure that was of more recent vintage. Graceful stone arches curved over the doors and windows, and the building, while looking neglected and unused, was far less terrifying.
Allegra swallowed as visions of dungeons and dank walls dripping with water receded. Tristan chuckled slightly as the carriage slowed to a halt and he opened the door.
"Welcome to our new home, Your Grace," he said, climbing out and extending his hand to her.
Allegra paused a moment, fighting back the urge to demand that he return her to London. She couldn't go back now. She was the one who had proposed this flight, and she had nothing to return to anyway. By now her note had surely been discovered, and Adam was probably rejoicing in her absence. To go back would be to admit defeat.
She put her hand into Tristan's and allowed him to help her out of the carriage. Tristan led her up to the house, speaking soothingly as he did so.
"I realize this is all very new to you, but in time it won't seem so strange. We'll move around a great deal, and you'll become used to seeing new places and sleeping in strange beds. The life of a social outcast is a great deal more adventurous than the one you've known previously, but I'm convinced you'll come to enjoy it."
"I'm sure I will," murmured Allegra.
"That's the spirit." Tristan led them up to the large carved oaken door. He eyed it thoughtfully. "Sixteenth century," he observed. "Beautiful, but hardly practical."
He raised a fist and pounded on the door. Allegra could hear the sound echoing into the distance. She felt her heart sink.
"Is no one here?" she asked.
"Oh, someone's bound to be about," said Tristan cheerfully. "I'm reasonably sure I've been paying their wages." He pounded on the door again, and this time they were rewarded with the sound of shuffling footsteps.
"I'm coming," called a voice irritably.
After some time the door was opened a crack and an elderly servant peered out, surveying them suspiciously. "Oh, it's you, my lord," he said finally, pushing the door open. It creaked noisily. "We weren't expecting you."
"No, I imagine you weren't, Baxter. We made a rather sudden decision to come here. But since I pay you to keep my house in order, I trust that we won't be putting you to too much trouble if we stay a night or two?"
Tristan stepped through the door, leading Allegra by the hand. She passed reluctantly over the threshold and looked wide-eyed around the hall. A lofty ceiling soared over her head, and the space stretched out expansively on either side, but she could see very little of her surroundings, for the only light was provided by a single candle held by Baxter.
"You're always welcome in your own home, my lord," said Baxter in a tone that belied the words. "I'll tell Mrs. Small to get the bedrooms ready and prepare some dinner."
"Do that. And light a fire in the sitting room and bring some more candles. It's like a tomb in here." Tristan took the taper from Baxter and lit a branch of candles that stood on a table. Light flared around him, and Allegra could see the fine oaken paneling that covered the walls. It made her think unexpectedly of the hallway at Gravesmere, and she felt another pang of regret. This trip into the country was very different from her last.
"Very good, my lord."
"Baxter, this is the Duchess of Gravesmere. She'll be staying here with me. I expect you to treat her every command as my own."
Baxter bowed stiffly to Allegra, and she flinched at the touch of contempt in the servant's eyes. Tristan had obviously brought other women here in the past and the old man had a good idea of what was going on. "As you wish, my lord," he muttered and shuffled off, but seemed to think that he needed to say more. "The house would be in much better order if we were expecting you."
"I'm aware of that. But now we must do our best to make my guest comfortable. Quickly now."
Baxter bowed again and moved on. Tristan snatched up the branch of candles and ushered Allegra through a nearby door. A large sitting room spread out before them, the furniture covered with ghostly white sheets. The heavy velvet curtains obscured any remaining daylight, and there was a damp chill to the air. Allegra wrinkled her nose.
"Ah well, we'll make the best of it." Tristan pulled the sheet off a settee and placed the candles on a long table. "Soon enough we'll have the fire lit and some food in our stomachs. Things will look brighter then. Someday we'll laugh about this first night together and it's horrors. I promise you the finest hotel room in Paris when we get there."
"You don't need to worry about me," said Allegra. "I'm fine." She sank down on the settee as her knees felt unaccountably weak. This would be her first night with Tristan. The first of many, she supposed. The idea seemed terribly unreal. Only last night she had been with Adam, thrilling to his touch. Now that was something that would never happen again.
Tristan moved about the room, snatching the covers from the furniture. "I'm sure you are. It takes an adventurous spirit to do what you've done. I'm glad you assured me that you've thought carefully about this. Leaving your home and family for the sometimes dubious joys of life as a social outcast is not something to be done lightly. I don't suppose you'll miss your husband too much, but it must have been a wrench to part with your brother and sister, as well as the dowager duchess and Lady Eskmaine."
"I...I don't want to discuss it," said Allegra quietly. She wished he would stop dwelling on what she was leaving behind. The thought of her sister, Jemima, and her often-expressed excitement at the prospect of being brought into Society by her glamorous sister, made her conscience twinge. She knew that Jemima would be judged by her sister's behavior and would be watched like a hawk to see if she displayed any negative traits.
"Homesick, are you?" Tristan sat down next to her. "We'll soon take care of that. I'll keep you so busy that you won't have time to think of it." He took her hand in his and tickled her
palm seductively. Allegra jumped and tried to move her hand, but Tristan's fingers tightened.
"If we're to be lovers, you mustn't be shy, my dear. I've waited a long time to be alone with you."
Allegra's eyes widened. "But Lord--Tristan, we just arrived. Surely you don't mean--well, that you don't want to--"
"Not before dinner, of course, and not before we've a fire lit. But soon, my dear. After all, you can't expect me to wait forever."
He leaned forward and kissed her forehead, his fingers still stroking her hand gently. Allegra breathed a sigh of relief when the door swung open and Baxter entered, casting the two of them a disapproving glance.
"I've brought more candles, my lord, and some wine," he said in accents of doom. "I'll light the fire now, if you don't mind."
Chapter 30
A Practical Rake
"Go right ahead," Tristan said, as he stood up, taking the tray from the butler and placing it on the table. "This will warm us up." He seized the new candles and lit them, which immediately imparted a more cheerful glow to the room. As Baxter noisily built a fire in the grate, Tristan poured two glasses of wine.
"To us, my dear," he said, handing Allegra a glass. "And our bright future together."
Allegra took a long drink of the wine. Perhaps if she drank enough, tonight might be easier for her. She was certain that Tristan would be a considerate lover, but she also knew that she had no desire for him. The only man she wanted was Adam, with his shining blonde hair and his green eyes that lit with such fire when he made love to her. He was probably with Lady Manning right now, celebrating their victory. She closed her eyes for a moment.
"Is something wrong?" asked Tristan.
She shook her head and then held up her glass for more wine. "No. I'm just tired."
"A little food will help. Baxter, when will dinner be ready?"
"Mrs. Small informed me that she has sent a girl upstairs to make up bedrooms for you and your guest. In the meantime, she is preparing a meal that should be ready shortly. She asked me apologize for the meagerness of the fare, but she was unaware that you would be here tonight." Baxter stood and backed away from the fireplace, in which a bright fire now glowed.
Tristan sighed. "Yes, I'm aware of that. You've mentioned that before. Tell Mrs. Small that I'm sure everything will be wonderful."
"Yes, my lord." Baxter bowed and removed himself, leaving behind a strong odor of disapproval. Tristan shook his head.
"You'd think they'd know better than to be judging my actions. But they've known me since I was just a boy, and feel they have some right to interfere."
"Do you bring women here often?" asked Allegra, emboldened by the wine and her own perverse need to know. She was beginning to realize that she hadn't thought out her plans very well. Tristan, while charming and kind, was hardly likely to wish to saddle himself with her for the rest of his life. She had heard enough rumors to know he had a new mistress every few months. Where would she go when he was done with her?
Tristan shrugged. "Often enough. But that's not something for you to worry about. You have all my attention now."
But for how long, wondered Allegra. She felt the sudden urge to burst into tears. This morning Lord Gresham had seemed the obvious solution to her dilemma, but now the realization that she was about to leave England and all security behind at the side of a man she barely knew and didn't love came crashing in on her. She took another sip of wine and tried to think about her problem logically. There was no going back to London, but she couldn't fathom going forward with Tristan's plans. It was an impossible coil she had gotten herself into.
"You look worried. Is there something wrong?" Tristan leaned forward solicitously.
Allegra hastily raised her glass so it was between them. "No, of course not. May I have some more, please?"
"Certainly." Tristan refilled her glass and then placed the bottle on the table in front of them. "Let's get comfortable here by the fire while we wait for dinner. There are some matters we should discuss."
"Discuss?" echoed Allegra.
"Certainly. While we have embarked on a fine romantic adventure, there are some practicalities which must be dealt with. For instance, I imagine you don't wish to become pregnant."
Allegra almost dropped her glass. She gave a little gasp as she clutched at it with suddenly nerveless fingers. "No, I suppose I don't," she choked out. Her other hand moved unconsciously to touch her stomach. She realized that in the back of her mind she still hoped that perhaps she was carrying Adam's child. It was a foolish wish, for it would do her no good and only complicate her situation, but to have some small part of him to keep seemed like a precious gift.
"That's very practical of you," continued Tristan. "I'm not inexperienced in the, er, contraceptive arts. There are a number of devices we could use and we should discuss which of those you would prefer."
Allegra felt as though her tenuous hold on reality was dissolving. She took a gulp of wine. "I'm sure you know best in this matter," she said hesitantly. "Perhaps you should make the decision."
"I'm thinking of your comfort as well as mine," said Tristan. "I feel that it is important that we agree on this matter. Now, the French have a device that a man can wear, but there are also sponges that the lady can use. I realize that we have taken off too quickly to obtain any of these devices, and so tonight we must simply rely on either our luck or the tried and true withdrawal method, but in the future we should be more sophisticated about this. Don't you agree?"
"Oh, certainly," murmured Allegra, blushing furiously, and wondering how she had gotten involved in such a conversation. She reached for the wine bottle. "I'm sure you're right."
"Excellent." Tristan smiled at her warmly and took the bottle from her, pouring more liquid into her glass. "I'm so glad we've taken care of that. It's wise to take care of these matters beforehand."
Allegra, speechless, drank still more wine. She hadn't formed any definite ideas about how the day of her elopement would proceed, but sitting in a dark, cold, nearly abandoned house while discussing contraception was not among the scenarios she had envisioned. To her intense relief, Baxter appeared in the doorway just then and regarded them solemnly.
"Dinner is prepared, my lord. It will be served in the dining room."
Tristan rubbed his hands together briskly. "Ah, good. Has a fire been lit there as well, Baxter?"
"Yes, my lord."
"Then we'll come right away. A bit of food in our stomachs will do a great deal to restore our spirits. Come along, my dear."
Allegra reluctantly put down her glass and took his proffered hand. She stood up slowly, swaying slightly. She had drunk too much on an empty stomach, she realized. Tristan patted her hand encouragingly.
"Mrs. Small is an excellent cook. I'm sure this will be a treat."
"This way, Your Grace." Baxter led the way ceremoniously out of the sitting room and down the hall. He threw open yet another set of massive oaken doors to reveal the formal dining room. A fire blazed merrily in the fireplace and candles were placed at one end of the table, but the room was massive enough that Allegra could barely see the far end of it through the gloom. Covers were set for two, and the gleaming length of the table stretched out before them, surrounded by chairs upholstered in heavy red silk brocade.
"One of my ancestors, I believe during the time of Charles II, loved to entertain," observed Tristan. "This room was his creation, and I'm sorry to say it's been sadly neglected since that time. Still, we must make the best of it."
He escorted Allegra to the table and seated her. "You may go, Baxter. We'll serve ourselves."
Allegra watched as the butler shuffled out and Tristan seated himself, lifting the covers off the dishes as he did so. Despite her nervousness she knew that she was hungry, and the scent of food that wafted through the air made her suddenly ravenous.
"Mrs. Small has outdone herself," observed Tristan as he eyed the meal. "Despite her not being aware of our arrival, I think this will
be quite acceptable. Would you care to try the veal?
Allegra nodded. Tristan served her silently, and then looked at the bottle of wine that sat near his elbow. "A decent vintage," he murmured. "Would you care for some?"
"Please." She watched as the liquid filled her crystal glass and she reached for it eagerly.
"Be careful, my dear. I'll want you to be alert later," Tristan said softly.
Allegra's eyes met his, and she flushed. It wouldn't do for him to know she was having second thoughts. There was no going back for her now, and Tristan was her only point of security. "I will," she said softly. She turned her attention to her meal, careful to avoid his eyes.
As she picked up her fork she was startled by a sudden burst of noise in the hallway. The sound of urgent knocking echoed through the cavernous foyer, and a man's voice could be heard shouting something in the distance.
"What could that be?" asked Tristan, rising to his feet. "Excuse me, Allegra. I'll get rid of this troublesome intruder."
Allegra watched him stalk out of the room, not daring to acknowledge the sudden hope that had flared in her heart. It couldn't be Adam, she told herself sternly. He was far away, in London, probably with Lady Manning. He would never have followed her here. There were too many rifts between them that could never be repaired.
Putting down her glass, she stood and went to the door, peering cautiously out into the hall. She could see that Baxter had made his way to the front door, and was muttering under his breath as he pulled it open. There was clearly far too much activity today to make the old man happy. Tristan stood behind him, a look of impatience on his dark face.
"Causing all this commotion late at night. I've never heard of such a thing," Baxter said as he swung the door open. "No one would have acted this way in your father's time."
He stepped backwards as the figure standing on the threshold, wearing heavy riding boots and a greatcoat, burst into the house. The intruder was still shrouded by darkness, but the shape of his figure, his height and the breadth of his shoulders, made Allegra draw in her breath.
A Duchess Enraged: An After Dark Version Georgian Romance (The Gravesmeres Book 2) Page 30
