and she was advised to take the waters. We both have too many acquaintances at Bath and Tonbridge Wells, so we hit upon Harrogate. We set up home together and she was with me for twelve happy months.’
Ellen ended on a sigh, wishing her dear friend was with her now. She badly needed support.
‘I remember Mrs Ackroyd very well,’ said the Duke. ‘She was an intelligent and educated woman.’ He hesitated. ‘Please accept my condolences on your loss, ma’am.’
‘What? Oh, no.’ Even in her present situation Ellen could not help smiling a little. ‘She is not dead, sir. She has gone travelling again. Greece and Turkey, this time.’
She saw his lips twitch. So he had not completely lost his sense of humour. But his next words set her on her guard again.
‘You live here unattended, unchaperoned.’
‘I do not need a chaperon.’
‘No, it would sadly curtail your freedom, would it not?’
‘I live here with my servants and my son,’ she retorted, bristling. ‘If I was to behave indecorously, it would be all over the town within days.’ She rose. ‘Now, if that is all you have to say, I beg you will excuse me. You will no doubt wish us to remove from here as soon as possible and I have much to do.’
‘There has been a change of plan.’
Ellen froze. He was going to take Jamie. He had decided to divorce her, to drag her name through the courts, expose her to ridicule and shame before banishing her from her son’s life for ever.
‘We cannot leave Harrogate immediately.’ Giddy with relief, Ellen sank back on to her chair and as she did so Max continued. ‘It is necessary to remain here for a few more weeks yet. You will continue to live in this house and I shall stay at the Granby. We will be obliged to meet, of course—’
‘Wait.’ Ellen stopped him. ‘I do not understand. Last night you were impatient to quit Harrogate.’
‘I had not then thought it through.’ He walked to the window and stared out. His large frame blocked the light and cast a shadow over Ellen. ‘Frederick Arncliffe is dying. I have given my word that I will remain here with him until the end.’
She nodded slowly. ‘I understand that, Your Grace, but once our situation is known, life here will be very difficult.’
‘Our situation as you call it must remain a secret.’
‘What?’
He turned on his heel. With the light behind him, she could not see his face, but his voice was hard and cold as steel.
‘We must pretend we are merely acquaintances.’
‘No! Do you think I can meet you now in company with equanimity?’
‘You can, madam, and you will.’
‘I will not.’ Ellen was on her feet now. ‘The news of our marriage must come out, that cannot be helped. I am prepared for our situation to be made public, for us to be ridiculed in broadsheets and pamphlets, but think of the uproar if it is discovered we are pretending to be strangers. I will not remain here to be humiliated.’
‘There need be no humiliation if you play your part.’
Her lip curled. ‘Do you think the truth can be concealed? One slip, one wrong word and the gossips will begin to poke and pry. No, Your Grace, you claim that we are man and wife, well, so be it. We shall tell the truth and shame the devil, but I will not play your games.’
She turned away, but in two strides he crossed the room and caught her arm, roughly pulling her back to face him.
‘Believe me, it is no game, madam.’
The words were more of a growl and they sent a shiver running through Ellen. He was so close, towering over her, and awareness crackled between them. The blood pounded through her veins, she felt the power of him, his ability to send all coherent thoughts out of her head. No. She would not allow him to dominate her again. Sheer effort of will allowed her to meet his eyes.
‘I see no reason for the secrecy,’ she told him. ‘It would be intolerable to live such a lie.’
‘I am trying to protect a dying man!’
* * *
Max had not meant to tell her that, but she had goaded him too far. He saw her eyes widen in surprise and the combative fire in their blue depths was replaced by a puzzled look and something softer, something that reminded him of the warm, generous woman he had known in the desert. He thought he had known. Abruptly he released her and walked back to the window, staring out across the Stray. People were promenading, wrapped up and battling against the wind that never seemed to ease up, even in summer.
‘What has my remaining in Harrogate to do with Frederick Arncliffe?’ she asked quietly.
He knew if he wanted her help he would have to tell her something or the truth.
‘Fred and I have been friends since childhood. We joined up together, fought together. We were in the Peninsula, retreating towards Corunna when Fred was hit by the musket ball that he still carries in his lung. There was no time to find a surgeon so I patched him up as best I could and somehow we got him on to one of the ships for England. I had to do my best for him. It was my fault he took that bullet.’
He thought of his life for the past four years. Every moment since Ellen had left him was full of grief, guilt and inescapable duty.
‘But I do not understand,’ she said. ‘What has this to do with me?’
‘When my brother died in a riding accident last year and I became the Duke, my family and friends threw themselves with enthusiasm into finding me a wife.’ He turned to face her. ‘I never told them about our marriage, you see. My pride would not let me. I felt such a fool, marrying a woman I knew nothing about, only to have her leave me and throw in her lot with the enemy.
‘I endured their hints and jests, the constant parading of eligible young ladies. I ignored it all, politely but firmly declined to show interest in any woman. Then Fred got it fixed in his head that his little sister Clare was the bride for me. He thought it a perfect solution, since I seemed so set against marriage. It would stop the matchmakers pursuing me, while making sure his sister and widowed mother were provided for, when he is gone. I should have killed the idea from the start, but that would have meant telling him the truth and I could not bring myself to do that. How could I explain to my best friend, a man who is closer to me than my own brother, that I had married and never told him of it?’ He read the concern in her eyes and added quickly, ‘Clare herself was never in any danger of believing the nonsense, nor her mother or Georgie. We all thought that, with Fred being so ill, it was best not to upset him. But as time has gone on the idea has become more and more fixed in Fred’s brain. I have promised him that I shall look after Clare and I will, but not as a husband.’
‘I quite see that it is a difficult situation,’ said Ellen. ‘However, I am sure, when everything is explained—’
‘No.’ Max shook his head. ‘Fred must never know that I am married.’
She bit her lip. ‘I have been
