The Scarlet Gown. Sarah Mallory
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‘Extremely entertaining.’ Lucy gave a little gurgle of laughter at his look of surprise, her head still buzzing with the excitement of all the new sights and sounds she had experienced. ‘I have never before been farther north than Hertfordshire, you see, so it was an adventure. Of course, I doubt I would have enjoyed it so much if it had not been undertaken in a fast and comfortable vehicle, with your servants to take care of everything for me, and overnight stops arranged at the very best coaching inns. I am very grateful to you for your solicitude, my lord.’
‘I could do nothing less for my future wife.’
Lucy blushed, but quickly realised that his words were for the benefit of the servants, as was the kiss he bestowed upon her fingers. After all, if this charade was to work then everyone must believe it.
Collecting her thoughts, she stood for a moment looking up at the house. It was a very large building in the Jacobean style with stone transom and mullion windows set between diapered red brickwork. Her first impression was that it had a frowning aspect, but she put this down to the overcast day and the fact that they were standing on the drive and the house appeared to tower over them. Her eyes moved to the stone pediment above the entrance, which framed an intricately carved cartouche.
‘The Adversane coat of arms,’ he said, following her glance. ‘The house was built for the first Baron Adversane at the time of the Restoration.’
Still buzzing with the excitement of the journey, Lucy could not resist giving voice to a mischievous thought.
‘And will the shades of your illustrious ancestors approve of me?’
‘I have no idea. Shall we go in?’
Chastened by his stony retort, Lucy allowed him to escort her into the house. The butler was waiting for them in the entrance passage with a line of servants, all of whom bowed or curtseyed as Lord Adversane led her past them.
‘Byrne will not introduce them to you today,’ he said as he took her into the Great Hall. ‘You are here ostensibly as a guest, but of course they all know we are betrothed because I mentioned it to my cousin in front of the housekeeper. Come along and meet her. She is waiting in the drawing room.’
‘The housekeeper?’ asked Lucy, suddenly quite daunted by the grandeur of her surroundings.
‘My cousin, Mrs Dean.’
There was no mistaking the impatience in his voice, and Lucy gave herself a mental shake. It was too late now for second thoughts. She must concentrate upon her new role.
* * *
Ralph swore silently, ashamed of his own ill humour. Perhaps it was understandable that he should be on edge, knowing how important it was that the girl fulfil her role to perfection, but surely he did not need to be quite so serious? He gave an inward sigh. How long had it been since anyone had teased him? Even his sisters rarely did so now. Since Helene’s death they had treated him with more sympathy than he deserved. After all it was not as if he had loved his wife. He had cared for her, yes, but the strain of living with such a nervous, timid creature, of watching his every utterance, curbing every impatient remark, had taken its toll. He had forgotten what it was like to laugh...
He escorted Miss Halbrook into the drawing room where his cousin was busy filling a teapot from a spirit kettle.
‘Ah, there you are, Ralph. And this must be our guest.’ Ariadne carefully set down the teapot and came forwards to greet them. As she approached she fixed her rather myopic gaze upon Lucy, frowned a little then turned a puzzled look upon him. He spoke quickly, before she could voice her thoughts.
‘It is indeed, Cousin.’ He added quietly, ‘I thought it best to tell Mrs Dean the truth, Miss Halbrook. She will introduce you to everyone as a young friend who is spending a few weeks with her, but in reality everyone will believe that you are my fiancée, is that not so, Cousin?’
He was relieved to see Ariadne’s frown clear as she took Miss Halbrook’s hands.
Lucy. He must get used to calling her Lucy.
‘Oh, indeed. You know how quickly gossip spreads in the country, my dear. Now, before we go any further I should tell you that I am so pleased my cousin has asked me to help him with this.’
He smiled. ‘I persuaded Ariadne to leave her comfortable little house in Bath and join me for the summer.’
‘There is very little persuasion needed to bring me to Adversane, Cousin, and you know it.’ Mrs Dean chuckled. She pulled Lucy close and kissed her cheek. ‘Welcome, my dear. Ralph has indeed told me all about it, although I really do not see—but there, it will be a pleasure to have this house filled with people again.’
Lucy relaxed in the face of such a friendly welcome. Mrs Dean led her over to a sofa and gently pushed her down onto the seat, chattering all the time.
‘Now, my dear, I have prepared some tea, if you would like it. I find it very restorative after a long journey. You have come all the way from London, Ralph tells me—more than two hundred miles! You must be exhausted.’
‘In which case brandy might be more appropriate,’ put in Lord Adversane.
Lucy ignored him. He had snubbed her once already, so she would not risk responding to his remark.
‘Tea would be very welcome, Mrs Dean, thank you.’
‘Oh, do call me Ariadne, my dear. And I shall address you as Lucy, if you will allow me.’
‘Gladly.’ She glanced around to make sure they were alone. ‘Is it safe to talk in here?’
‘Perfectly, as long as we do not raise our voices.’ Lord Adversane poured himself a glass of brandy from the decanter on the sideboard and took a seat opposite the sofa. He said conversationally, ‘What do you want to talk about?’
‘I should have thought that was obvious,’ she retorted. ‘We have not had the opportunity to discuss my story. We will need to agree on the particulars, if I am to be at all convincing.’
He sat back in his chair and stretched out his legs, crossing one booted foot over the other.
‘It would be sensible to keep as close to the truth as possible. There is no need for false names or imaginary families. We met in London, but our betrothal has not yet been made public because you have been in mourning for your father—’
‘How do you know that?’
‘Mrs Killinghurst apprised me of all your details, naturally.’
‘Naturally.’ She eyed him with growing resentment. ‘You appear to know everything about me, my lord.’
‘Not everything, Miss Halbrook.’ There was a sardonic gleam in his hard, grey eyes as they rested upon her. So he was amusing himself at her expense, yet her light-hearted comments had met with a chilly rebuff. She put up her chin.
‘I know no more of you than I have been able to discover from The Peerage,’ she told him. ‘I am ill prepared for this role.’
He waved a dismissive hand. ‘We have three weeks before the first house guests arrive. Time enough to get to know one another.