Kitabı oku: «Regency Society Collection Part 1», sayfa 43

‘Of course we would not want that.’ Her voice was well on the way to being shrewish now. ‘Why would anyone wish to get a child on me? It is good that you cannot see, I am sure, for you would find me so repellent that you would run from me, after only a few days.’

‘That is not it at all,’ he muttered, his desire for her dying in annoyance with her foolish need for reassurance. ‘I am sure that you are most beautiful, as I have already said.’

‘Liar,’ she said, and the word ended in a sob. ‘Liar. Get out. Go away. Do not touch me.’ She pulled the silk robe around her body with a swish to make sure that he heard.

‘You were quite willing enough to have me touch you a few minutes ago. I do not understand your sudden change of heart.’

‘Well, I understand quite enough for both of us. You refuse to lie with me in a normal manner. And so I refuse to lie with you at all.’ She stomped her foot hard enough for him to feel the vibrations of the floor through his boot soles. ‘Get out.’

He stood, doing up his buttons, wanting to storm out the door and to the street, to take the first carriage he could find far away from this place, so that he would never have to see her again.

And then he barked his shin on the little table beside the couch, and remembered that he could not see her at all. Nor could he remember the way to the door. He was wilting with shame now, red faced, limp and weak and helpless in the presence of a woman he desired. ‘I am sorry. But I will not … I cannot …’

‘Of course you could. If you thought, even for a moment, about what damage you have done to those who care for you.’

‘No. It is not that at all.’ What she was saying made no sense, and had nothing to do with the confusion he was suffering. ‘Believe me, at this moment, I want nothing more than to leave this place and forget this evening as soon as I am able.’

Then he held his hand out in resignation. ‘But I will need someone to give me my stick and find my coat and hat, for I cannot. Then you will need to call a servant to lead me to a carriage, unless you mean to turn me helpless into the street. Or maybe you wish to laugh at my struggles.’ A thought occurred to him. ‘Perhaps that was your game all along. Does it amuse you to see me in such a state over you, and then reject me, knowing how easy it will be to escape?’

‘Of course,’ she bit back. ‘Because everything that happens is about you and your pride and what people will think. For a few moments tonight, I was foolish enough to think that you were not the most selfish man in the world.’ She pushed him on the shoulder to spin his body a quarter-turn. ‘The door is in front of you. Straight forwards. Go.’

She did not say another word to him, but walked at his side until he was in the entrance hall. Was she ashamed at her outburst, or as disgusted by his weakness as he was? In either case, he knew she did not want him enough to relent, for she went to the bell to ring for aid.

As they waited in silence for a servant to come and lead him out, he felt carefully over buttons, arranging his clothes as best he could, double and triple checking to be sure he had not done up his trousers crooked, so that it was not obvious to all that he had left in haste from an assignation. When he was sure he would not shame himself further, he said, ‘And now you know why I am so careful not to spread my seed. This curse that has rendered me helpless came to me because my father, and his before him, had no compunctions about breeding. I have no intention of making the same mistake, leaving my son a useless joke of a man. It is the reason I fled my own marriage. And it is why I will not join unhindered with you. I am sorry if that displeases you, but it is a fact of life, and cannot be changed. Good evening to you, madam.’

Chapter Eight

Emily waited until she was sure that her husband was well on his way before moving from the doorway. As it was, she hoped he had not known that she watched him climb into the carriage to make sure he got to it safely. He was not a child. He did not need her help. And it would hurt him even more if she showed a final lack of confidence.

There was some relief in knowing that she had had her trunks moved to the bedroom of this apartment. At least she would not be forced to creep back to the Eston town house and risk revealing to her brother David the depths of her foolishness.

But she felt she must share some small part of the truth with someone if she was to keep from going mad. So she signalled the footman who had just helped Adrian out the door that she wished to speak with Mr Hendricks, and to go with haste to the rooms to retrieve him, before Lord Folbroke had returned to them.

Then she went to her bedchamber and summoned her maid, requesting that all evidence of her tryst with Adrian be removed from the sitting room and that she be dressed in a way more appropriate for a visitor.

But a part of her, newly awake and alive, did not want to dress. It wanted to recline upon the bed and revel in the touch of silk on skin, and the memory of her husband’s hands on her body.

This had been both the best and the worst night of her life. For most of it, he had been everything she had imagined he could be. Gentle one moment, forceful the next. But ever aware of her needs, eager to please her before he took pleasure.

And the pleasure he had given … She hugged her arms close to her body, feeling the silk shift over her aching breasts. Lord have mercy upon her, she still wanted him. Her skin was hot from his touches, and her body cried out that she had been a fool to let pride stand in the way of a more complete union between them.

Until he had produced his little sheath, she had all but forgotten how his neglect had hurt her, or how far she was from forgiving him. She had not thought further than the immediate need for intimate contact with his body, unhindered passion, and for even the smallest possibility that she might bear his child.

That was what she had come here for, after all.

And once the idea had planted itself in her mind, it had grown there, not unlike the baby she was seeking. If she could not have Adrian, then perhaps she could have some small part of him to raise and to love.

But now it appeared that this had been the precise reason he had left her. In his present state of mind, even if he went back to Derbyshire for a time to appease his cousin, he would refuse to touch her. He would die recklessly as his father had and leave her alone, just as she feared.

Even pretending that she was not his wife—it had not been as she had expected. She’d imagined the separation to be a personal thing. He was avoiding her in particular, but giving himself with abandon, body and soul, to any other woman that struck his fancy. In anonymity, she might have some share in what others had received from him. But it seemed the act was only a gratification of a physical urge, and that there had never been trust from his side at all. He kept himself apart both from her and any other woman he might lie with.

A footman tapped upon her door to signal that Hendricks awaited her in the sitting room. Her maid, Hannah, gave a final tug upon the sash to her dress and pronounced her respectable, and she went to greet the secretary. But entering the sitting room brought on a flood of embarrassing memories and she hurried to take a seat upon the couch before the fire, gesturing him to a chair opposite.

‘My lady?’ From the way he looked at her, she wondered if some clue remained in the room or about her person that might indicate what had gone little more than an hour before. He watched her too closely as she entered, lingering on her dress, her body and her face in a way that was most inappropriate.

‘You wish to know what occurred, I suppose?’ she said, trying not to let her failure be too obvious.

‘Of course not.’ The poor man must have realised that he had been staring. He looked away quickly and then went quite pink, probably afraid that he had been dragged out of bed to receive some all-too-personal revelation on her part.

‘You have nothing to fear.’ Emily scowled back at him. ‘The evening was without incident.’

‘Without …’ He looked back at her and pushed his spectacles up the bridge of his nose as he sometimes did when surprised. But behind the lenses, his eyes narrowed as though he doubted her word.

‘Well, very nearly,’ she said, trying to find an appropriate way to explain. ‘The situation is much more complicated than I feared. When I came to London, I had assumed for years that Adrian had a distaste of me, and that that was why he abandoned me in the country. Since I knew he did not like me, I thought there was little future for us, beyond the arrangement we have come to. One cannot change one’s nature, after all.

‘But our estrangement is not about me at all. He avoids me because he actively seeks to die without issue. He thinks by doing so, and letting Rupert take the title, that he can stamp out the weakness in his family … which is utter nonsense. But it means that I am the last woman in the world he wishes to know.’

‘But his idea is not without merit,’ Hendricks said sensibly. ‘It is logical that he would want a healthy heir, and to believe that his own child might share his problems.’

She glared at him. ‘I do not care to hear about the logic. I am sure, if we get out the family history and examine it, we will see some of the earls from this very line lived long and successful lives, fully sighted to their last day. As have many of the second sons and daughters. And it is quite possible, if we examine Rupert’s branch of the family, that we will find similar problems with blindness there. His own father was nearly sightless upon death, was he not?’

Hendricks nodded. ‘But nothing was made of it, because he was not Folbroke.’

‘Then Adrian’s plans are quite—Lord forgive me the expression—short sighted. It is only a medical anomaly that has caused the weakness in the last three earls, and not some dire curse upon the heir to Folbroke.’

‘The line would need new blood entirely to solve the problem,’ Hendricks admitted.

‘How democratic,’ she said drily. ‘Next you will suggest that I be bred like a mare to someone healthy, for the good of the succession.’ She shuddered in revulsion. ‘I believe I should have some choice in the matter. And like it or not, I choose the husband I already have. Perhaps Adrian thinks our marriage was forced upon him. But from the first moment I can remember, I have wanted no other man, nor is that likely to change now that I have seen his situation.’ She sat up straight and reached into a pocket for a handkerchief to wipe away the mote that was making her eyes tear. ‘We do not always want the person who is best for us, I am afraid.’

‘The poets never claim that the path of true love is an easy one,’ Hendricks added in a dejected tone.

‘No poetry was necessary to prove that for myself tonight.’

‘Then you told him who you were?’

‘I most certainly did not,’ she said, and was annoyed to notice the hole in her own logic. Her current understanding of her husband did not negate her previous one. While he had been most attentive to her when he thought her a stranger, he had not mentioned his feelings for his wife at all. ‘Things were difficult enough, without bringing my identity into the conversation. If he’d known I was his wife, we’d have …’ she shrugged, embarrassed ‘… we’d have got much less close to the thing he was avoiding than we already have.’

Hendricks was looking at her with a kind of horrified curiosity. She had spoken too much, she was sure. With a hurried wave of her hand, as though she could wipe the words from the air, she said, ‘I am sure, if I’d told him who I was, he’d have been quite angry at being tricked. It would be better, I think, to wait until I can find some other way to explain. And a time when he is in an exceptionally good mood.’ And let Hendricks wonder as much as he liked what might cause an improvement in her husband’s disposition.

She went on. ‘But tonight, he left angry. And it was my fault. We argued over … something. And when I turned him out, I had forgotten that he could not see to find his own way to the door. To see him standing there, proud, and yet helpless?’ And now, when she raised her handkerchief, she could not deny that it was to wipe away a tear. ‘He needs me.’

‘That he does, my lady.’ Hendricks seemed to relax in his seat, like a man who had found a patch of solid ground after getting lost in a bog.

‘I need you to deliver another letter to him, similar to the one you did this morning. Lord knows if he will welcome it, for I am sure he is very cross after the way I behaved tonight. But I mean to try again, tomorrow night, to gain his trust.’

When Adrian awoke the next morning, the lack of headache made the feelings of regret more sharp. He had come back to his rooms, ready to rave at Hendricks about the vagaries of the female mind. But the man, who seemed to have no life at all outside of his work, had chosen that evening to be away from the house.

And then he’d thought to find a bottle and a more sensible woman. Liquor would lift his spirits and a whore would not refuse the predilections of any man with the money to buy her time. In fact, the ladies of that profession were often somewhat relieved that a client would take the time to protect himself.

But a gentlewoman would have no such understanding. To her it was a grave insult to even mention such a thing. To imply that she was not clean enough, and to do it to a woman that had already felt the sting of rejection?

Any frustration that he felt after tonight was his own fault. And his own discomfort was probably a deserved punishment for leading the woman to believe he was worthy of her, and then leaving her disappointed and insulted. In the end, he had called for a single glass of brandy and taken it with him to his own large and empty bed.

This morning, the rattle of the curtains came as usual, but the daylight following it seemed more of a gradual glow than a rush of fire. ‘Hendricks.’

‘Yes, my lord.’

‘It is still morning, is it not?’

‘Half past ten. You retired early.’

‘Earlier than you, it seems.’

‘Yes, my lord.’ His secretary showed no interest in sharing his activities of the previous evening, and Adrian regretted the loss of the easy camaraderie they’d shared while fighting together in Portugal. At one time, they’d have gone out together, or shared the stories of their exploits over breakfast the next morning.

‘Lady Folbroke required my services.’

And that was the true reason for the breach, more than their inequality of rank, or his growing helplessness. And for a moment, Adrian wondered if there was a reason for the timing of the visit. When better to go to her, than when one could be sure that her husband would be occupied elsewhere? ‘She is well, I trust.’

‘When I left her, yes.’

Did that imply that she was the better for Hendricks’s company? They would make a handsome couple, similar in colouring and disposition, taciturn but intelligent. And yet the idea disturbed him, and he rushed to replace the image of them together that formed in his mind. ‘I congratulate you on your success. Would that my own evening had gone as well. It seems I am no longer fit company for a lady, for I could not manage a few hours in the presence of one without offering insult.’

Hendricks requested no details, nor did he offer to correct any misconceptions about his own activities. Adrian heard the nervous rattling of the morning paper against the post. ‘Do you wish me to read the news, my lord? Or shall I begin with the mail?’

‘The mail, I think.’ If he did not intend to attend Parliament when it was in session, then hearing the news of the day only made him feel helpless.

‘There is only one letter here. And it is similar to the one you received yesterday.’

‘Similar in what way?’ He doubted it would be in content, after the way they had parted.

‘In handwriting, and lack of a return direction. The wax is the same, but unmarked. I have not opened it.’ Hendricks gave a delicate pause. ‘I thought it better to wait upon your instructions.’

The embarrassment from last evening was still fresh, and a part of him wanted to throw the missive in the fire, unread. What would she have sent, so soon after parting from him? An angry diatribe? A curt dismissal? Florid words of love or a description of their activities on the couch were unlikely. But they would be particularly awkward today, delivered in Hendricks’s pleasant baritone as Adrian tried not to imagine the man doing similar things with his Emily.

He steeled his nerves and said, as casually as possible, ‘Best read it, I suppose, for the sake of curiosity if nothing else.’

There was a crackling of paper as the wax seal was released, and Hendricks unfolded the note.

‘I am sorry. If you would accept this apology, return tonight.’

So even after last night, she still wanted to see him. He felt both relief and shame that she should think she was the one who needed to apologise—and damned lucky that he would have a chance to set her straight.

But was it worth the risk of another rejection? If she meant to toy with him, then so be it. Even after the disasters of the previous two nights, he felt a singing in his blood at the thought that he might kiss her again, and that she might let him take more liberties than he had as yet achieved.

He grinned up at his secretary, who said benignly, ‘Will there be a reply?’

The things he wished to say to her came and passed in a rush, as he realised that they would need to be filtered through poor Hendricks, who would be feeling as uncomfortable as he. He had never before forced the man into a position of writing a billet-doux, nor would he today. ‘Normally, I would wish to send something immediately. But she has given no address. And after several hours in her company, I still have no idea what to call her, for she would not even give me her first name. If she wishes to shroud herself in mystery, I have no objection. But for punishment, she may wait in ignorance of my feelings until I see her tonight.’

Chapter Nine

Emily paced the front hall of the rented flat, unable to contain her agitation at the thought of the evening’s meeting. She had waited nervously for some response from her husband. In the afternoon there had come a hurried note, directly from Hendricks, that she could expect a visit that evening. But there had been no mention of Adrian’s reaction, whether he was angry, elated or indifferent.

She was both relieved and annoyed by this. While it was flattering to think that her rejection had not dampened his interest, she could not manage to forget that her husband thought he was rushing to a stranger with the intention of betraying his wife.

But then she remembered the feelings she had experienced on the previous evening. The things he had done to her were so different than his behaviour during the first week of their marriage that she could hardly believe he was the same person. If a revelation of her identity meant that they would be returning to the country for a life of such sterile conjugation, she much preferred being the mysterious object of his infidelity.

Promptly at eight, there was a knock on the door. Before the servant could arrive, she had opened it herself, and pulled Adrian into the hall with her.

At first he resisted, unwilling to be helped. But then he recognised her touch and submitted to her, fumbling to help with the closing of the door once he was through.

Before she could speak, he had seized her, the cane in his left hand bracing vertically along her spine as he kissed her. It was long and hard and unyielding, holding her body against his as he reached between them to unbutton his top coat with his right hand. With the open coat shielding them from observation, he began a careful examination of her dress with his fingers. ‘A dinner gown tonight, my dear? Afraid to risk the nightdress again, I see. But what is this, here amongst the net and beads?’ His hand cupped her breast. ‘You have not bothered with stays. That is a welcome thing to a sightless man. I can read your response to my arrival with a touch.’

‘You are terribly forward,’ she said, but made no effort to remove his hand from her body as it brushed against her sensitive nipple.

‘I am,’ he admitted. ‘And I had meant this evening to put you at your ease with my good manners. Already, I have failed.’

‘It does not matter. I am happy that you returned. And for last night, I am sorry.’

His fingers left her breast and unerringly found her lips, and he laid one against them to stop the apology. ‘It is I who must apologise. I was the one who offered insult. I treated you as I would treat someone who meant nothing to me.’

‘Which is how it should be. You barely know me.’

‘Now, perhaps. But I would like to know you better.’ His head bowed to rest against hers, forehead to forehead. ‘You could not understand my reasons for behaving as I did. And I gave you no reason to try. I thought only of my own needs, which were urgent, and offered no explanation for it.’

‘It is all right. It does not matter.’

‘It does. I hurt you. I made you feel that you are not worthy of love. But that is not the case.’

Emily laid a hand on the front of his vest, over his heart, and he clasped it there. They stood for a time, just like that, as though it had been ages since they had been together, and not hours. And for her, it had been. For how could a few evenings fill the void created by three years apart?

And as she thought of their marriage, she could feel the old breathlessness coming back, the terror of doing something wrong in his presence and spoiling this sudden intimacy. At last, she murmured into his lapel, ‘Supper?’

Adrian groaned in frustration and tightened his arms upon her. ‘Might it be possible to take light refreshment, and to sit before the fire? And I truly mean that we will talk tonight before anything else occurs between us. But you needn’t keep me at arm’s length across a table to ensure my good behaviour.’

It surprised her to find him as intimidated by a formal meal as she was in talking to him. ‘Very well. I will have the servants lay something simple for us, if that is what you wish. Come.’

She led him to the couch, and arranged for a tray of cold meats and bread to be brought to them, along with wine and fruit. And then she sat down beside him, and offered him a grape. ‘Do not think for a moment to deny me the pleasure of helping you.’

‘If it means that you will sit close beside me and let me kiss the crumbs from your fingertips? Then of course.’ He took the fruit from her hand, and said with a full mouth, ‘And while I eat, you will tell me about your husband.’

‘And … why would I do that?’ She hurriedly offered him more food, wishing that there were a way to get him to the table again so that they could be equally uncomfortable.

He smiled back at her and wiped the corner of his mouth with a napkin. ‘I will admit, there is an allure in an anonymous coupling. And a decided lack of guilt at parting from a stranger. But it has been a long time since I have been willing to play the fool for a woman. When I left here, I wanted to be angry, to blame you for all of it, and dismiss the incident from my mind. But I have brooded on it for most of last night and the better part of today as well. I want to know the meaning of your words.’

‘What did I say that you did not understand?’ She took a fortifying sip of wine.

‘You seemed more offended that I feared to get you with child than you were with the implication that I might think you poxed. You may tell me that I have no right to enquire, but it makes me wonder at your motives in lying with me, and fear that you are seeking something other than pleasure. If you cannot give me a suitable explanation, than I must leave you.’ He took her hand, and squeezed it. ‘But I very much want to stay.’

Emily leaned back in her seat and took another sip of wine. It was as good a time as any to explain to him, she supposed. ‘To make you understand, I must tell you about my marriage. My husband and I were together for but a brief time. And while we resided under the same roof, he barely spoke to me. As a matter of fact, he seemed to avoid my company.’

He gave a grunt of dismissal. ‘I cannot believe it.’

‘In his defence, I barely had the nerve to speak in his presence. I was quite in awe of him.’

‘This surprises me,’ he said. ‘You seemed fearless when I first met you. You have a direct and intelligent manner of speaking that is most refreshing.’

‘Thank you.’ She coloured. For while the compliment was delivered unawares, it was welcome.

He traced a finger along her cheek. ‘Of course, were I married to you, conversation would have been the last thing on my mind.’

‘Oh, really. And what would be the first?’

‘Getting you to bed, of course. Just as it was when I met you.’

‘Then you are obviously not the man I married,’ she said, ‘for on the three times he visited my room—’

Adrian’s brow furrowed. ‘Three times?’

‘Yes.’

He laughed. ‘You mean in the first night, of course.’

She grimaced. He did not even recognise himself in the quite obvious clue she had given him. ‘I mean in total. I remember it distinctly. How many women can, after several years of marriage, remember the exact number of conjugal visits and count them on less than a hand?’

‘That is an abomination.’

‘I quite agree.’ And she hoped that the frosty tone in her voice might bring some mote of recollection from the man at her side.

‘And these visits …’ he cleared his throat as though to stifle a laugh ‘… were they in any way memorable?’

‘I remember each instant, for they were my first and only experiences of that sort.’ ‘

And how would you describe them?’

Her timidity forgotten, she finished her wine in a gulp and said, ‘In a word? Disappointing.’

He seemed taken aback by this. ‘Was he not gentle with you? Did he give no thought to your inexperience?’

‘On the contrary. He proceeded with gentleness and all due care.’

‘Then what was the problem?’

Emily almost growled in frustration, for it was clear that he had no memory at all of what had been the most important week of her life. ‘He made it plain that he did not enjoy my company. My deflowering was done with martial efficiency, at a tempo that might have been more appropriate for a march than a frolic. And then he had returned to his rooms, without another word.’

Adrian gave a snort, before managing to master himself again. ‘You know little of the army, if you think that men in the, uh, heat of battle …’ And then, as though he remembered that he was speaking to a lady, he stopped. ‘Well, then. Never mind. But you are right in thinking that such restraint could not have been pleasant for him. And did you tell him, the next day, of your dissatisfaction with his performance?’ ‘How could I? I was innocent of the subject. For all I knew, it was the same for all. I had been watching him for years, and dreaming of how it might be.

And the waking truth was not at all as I expected. But when one can barely bring oneself to discuss the weather with the man to whom one is wed, how is one to explain that one had hoped, in the marriage bed, for something more?’

‘I see.’ He laid a hand on hers, in comfort.

‘And the next night was the same. And then the next.’ She was almost shaking with rage at the memory of it, and the returning shame. ‘And then, it seemed he gave our marriage up as a bad job. When evening arrived, a servant informed me that he would be dining with friends, and that I was not to expect his company. And shortly thereafter, he removed to London and has not returned.’

His hand reached up to brush her cheek again, and she shied away, trying to hide the tears of shame that had come unbidden at the recitation.

‘And all this time you thought it was somehow your fault?’

‘What else could I think? And when you came to me, with that … thing? Is there something wrong with me, that a man I want does not wish to touch me as he should?’

Adrian laughed. ‘It does no credit to my gender, but I assure you that there is little that a man cannot stomach when his appetite is good. I can find nothing about you so far that would lead me to believe you capable of inducing such a reaction. I might say, after last night’s intimate inspection of you, that you are sweetly formed and temptation itself. You had reduced me to such a state when you turned me out that even with two good eyes I doubt I could have found the door.’

‘Really?’

‘If the man you married was sane and whole, he would have responded differently.’

‘If he was whole,’ she repeated.

Adrian nodded. ‘Therefore, we must assume that the fault lies on his side. For myself, I would suspect impotence.’

She coughed on a bit of bread, and hurried to pour herself another glass of wine. ‘Really?’

He nodded again. ‘An inability to perform effectively, no matter how tempted. And he left before you might notice that he had given all he could. It is either that, or a penchant for other men.’

‘Oh, I seriously doubt that,’ she said, relieved that he could not see her smile.

‘It is not unheard of, you know. When you find him in London, it is quite possible that you will discover his relationship with one of his friends is … unusually close.’

‘I see.’

‘But in either case, it has nothing to do with you, or your attractiveness to members of the opposite gender.’