Chapter Four #2
She headed towards the fireplace, over which hung a gilt-framed painting of a large, stately-looking house.
It was made of grey stone, with side wings that extended forward to form a courtyard, in which two external staircases led up to a terrace fronted by six massive stone pillars, themselves topped with a triangular-shaped pediment.
The roof on either side, meanwhile, was flat, with a balustrade that ran the entire length of the house, giving the impression of medieval battlements.
Clearly, it had been designed to look like a modern-day stronghold, a bastion of wealth and privilege.
She gasped as it occurred to her that there was only one reason why such a painting would be given pride of place over the fireplace.
‘Is that…here?’ Suddenly she couldn’t drag her gaze away.
‘Yes.’ Her husband answered from just behind her shoulder. ‘That’s Rainton Court.’
‘You mean, we’re inside…there?’
‘We are.’
‘So that’s my home?’
There was a telling pause before he answered. ‘Yes.’
‘Oh.’ She sank down onto a conveniently placed footstool.
‘Are you feeling unwell?’ His tone was completely neutral, as if he was neither surprised by, nor particularly interested in, her reaction. ‘Do you not wish to continue our tour?’
‘Yes. No. I don’t…’ She put her palms on either side of her head, as if she could somehow squeeze her thoughts back together. ‘I just need a few moments.’
‘Very well.’ He placed her candle on the mantelpiece and braced his own hands against it, leaning forward to stare down into the fire, his posture rigid.
‘How many rooms are there?’ she asked at last, though her voice sounded small even to her. By contrast, the ticking of the clock on the mantel seemed almost deafening.
‘Altogether?’ He didn’t move. ‘I’m not certain. Around one hundred, I should think, including the attics.’
‘One hundred?’ She gaped at him, watching as the firelight cast shadowy patterns over his face. It wasn’t a house so much as a palace. What was she doing in a palace? Her family home consisted of only fourteen rooms in total!
‘The original house was around half the size, I believe, but my father wanted something grander. He had it rebuilt forty years ago.’
‘Well, it’s certainly…impressive.’ She cleared her throat, remembering something she’d heard over the breakfast table in London. ‘I’m sorry about your father. Lady Wadlow said that you’d only come into your title recently.’
‘Yes, he passed away earlier this year.’ He turned his head to look at her finally, a speculative glint in his eyes. ‘What else did Lady Wadlow tell you?’
‘Oh, she wasn’t telling me,’ she clarified. ‘I was only in town as Amabel’s companion. I just overheard things.’
‘Then what else did you overhear?’
She hesitated, though there seemed little point in hiding the truth, no matter how blunt it sounded.
‘That you had thirty thousand acres, twenty thousand a year, and you’d come to London to find a wife.’
He made a faint huffing sound. ‘Accurate on all counts.’
‘Will you tell me what happened now?’ she asked, sitting forward hopefully. ‘How we were compromised?’
He shook his head. ‘You only woke up this morning and the doctor said it’s important for you to stay calm and avoid any mental distress.’
‘Yes, he told me that too, only how he expects me to do it is another matter.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘I don’t understand how anyone can expect me to be calm when I have so many unanswered questions.’
He pulled his head back at that, his expression penetrating as he stared down at her. With his mouth set in a grim line, there was something so cold and aristocratic about him, it was all she could do not to shiver.
‘Please?’ She tightened her shawl around her throat, willing her voice to remain steady as she held on to his gaze. ‘I need to know.’
‘Very well, then.’ A muscle tightened in his jaw before he twisted his lips in a mirthless smile. ‘Let’s call it a bedtime story…’
Leo rested one arm on the mantelpiece and gazed dispassionately down at his wife.
She looked as if she’d just fallen out of bed.
Her hair had mostly escaped from its braid, hanging in wisps about her face, and although she’d changed into a new nightgown, it was already crumpled, albeit half hidden by a shawl wrapped around the top of her body.
Despite that, however, her appearance now was actually marginally better than it had been that morning, or at least her nose wasn’t quite so red and her eyes had lost their panicked look.
Obviously there was still a long way to go before she was back to full health, but she made a good point about her recovery.
He doubted that he’d be able to rest if he were in her position either.
Losing her memory had to be a deeply disturbing experience.
Maybe the best thing he could do for her was try to jolt it.
Best or worst. He supposed he’d find out which soon enough.
‘Once upon a time,’ he began, ‘Lord and Lady Wadlow of Brampton decided to throw a ball on behalf of their daughter, Miss Amabel Wadlow. It was at the height of the London Season and I attended with the intention of asking for that same daughter’s hand in matrimony.
After broaching the subject with Lord Wadlow early in the evening, I was in an optimistic frame of mind.
I danced twice with Miss Wadlow before asking if she would grant me the honour of a private audience in the library.
Unfortunately, there was a small tear in the hem of her gown which required her to withdraw briefly to mend it, but she suggested that I go ahead to the library and wait for her there.
’ He drew in a deep breath, his voice hardening. ‘That was where you found me.’
‘Me?’ Her jaw dropped.
‘Yes. You were standing close to Miss Wadlow when she made the suggestion, so I can only presume you overheard and decided to follow me.’
‘But why would I—?’
‘When you reached the library, you seemed curiously agitated.’ He spoke over her, ignoring the question.
Now that he’d started, he wanted to get the whole sordid story over with as quickly as possible.
‘Naturally, I suggested we go somewhere more public before anyone came in and found us together, but you told me you had an important message from Miss Wadlow to communicate.’
‘I see.’ This time she was slow to respond, her expression perplexed. ‘What was the message?’
‘I have no idea.’ He held on to her gaze, watching for any flash of recognition. ‘When it came to it, you seemed rather at a loss for words.’
‘That doesn’t make any sense.’ She drew her brows together. ‘Why would I tell you I had a message and then not deliver it?’
‘I remember thinking the same thing. Unfortunately, that was the moment the door opened and several members of the ton walked in, Miss Wadlow included.’
‘You mean…?’ She rocked backwards, a flush of red spreading up her neck and across her cheeks. ‘But we were only talking.’
‘We were still alone together. That was more than enough to compromise us.’ He couldn’t keep the contempt from his voice. ‘As you were no doubt well aware.’
She gave an audible intake of breath, holding her hands up as if to push the words away. ‘You think I did it deliberately?’
He lifted an eyebrow. ‘I admit, you made quite a good show of pretending to be as appalled as I was, but why else did you come to the library with some made-up story about a message? I might have applauded your cunning had it not made such a mess of my own plans.’
‘But it’s not true!’ She shot to her feet, her eyes flashing like sapphires in the candlelight. ‘Amabel is my best friend. I would never have betrayed her like that. Never! Why would I?’
He didn’t bother to lower his eyebrow. ‘You had no dowry or connections, whereas Miss Wadlow had both, as well as a number of suitors. Perhaps you were jealous?’
She reeled backwards again, seemingly outraged by the suggestion. ‘I was not jealous!’
‘And yet here you are, a marchioness, while your friend, as far as I know, remains unwed.’
‘I’m also no fortune hunter.’ She sounded as if she was speaking through gritted teeth.
‘So you’ve been saying for the past month, but what other interpretation is there?’
‘I don’t know, I just know that that’s not it!
I came to London as Amabel’s companion and I was perfectly content with my position!
And if I’ve been saying so for the past month then it’s the truth!
’ She put her hands on her hips, so that her shawl fell open.
‘Didn’t I tell you what the message was later? ’
‘No.’ He fought the urge to glance downwards.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Interestingly enough, you said that you couldn’t. Then, after our wedding, you persisted in saying there was an explanation for your behaviour, without actually telling me what it was. In that respect, not much has changed.’ He gave a disgusted snort. ‘You can understand my scepticism.’
‘Oh.’ She looked crestfallen before rallying again. ‘Then what about Amabel? What did she say about the message?’
‘Nothing. When I asked, she said she had no idea what I was talking about. She seemed as surprised as anyone. Anyone including the Earl and Countess of Malvern, Lady Lansbury, Baron Paltrow and Lord and Lady Wadlow.’
‘Oh.’ She dropped back down onto the footstool. ‘So we truly had to marry?’
‘We did.’ He turned his gaze back to the fireplace.
Technically, that part wasn’t strictly true.
He could have refused to go through with it.
He’d certainly thought about doing so, but his sense of honour had compelled him.
No matter how conniving she’d been, or the cost to his own status, considering her lack of family or connections, his conscience hadn’t allowed him to ruin her.
‘There just has to be some reasonable explanation for what happened.’ She sounded genuinely at a loss.
‘If there is, I’d be delighted to hear it.’
‘What about an annulment?’
‘What?’ He turned his head again sharply.
‘Why don’t we have our marriage annulled?’
‘On what grounds?’
‘That we’re not…you know…properly married.’ A look of sudden panic flashed across her face. ‘Are we?’
‘We are not.’ He felt a muscle twitch in his jaw. ‘If you’re asking whether or not we’ve shared a bed, the answer is most definitely no.’
‘Thank goodness.’ Her shoulders sagged with relief.
‘Quite.’
‘I didn’t mean…’ Her cheeks were so red now, he could see them glowing in the half-darkness. ‘I only meant that if there was no wedding night, then there’s still a way out of this marriage. I’ll happily agree to an annulment.’
Happily? He let his gaze roam over her face for a few moments. Given what she’d done to trap him, the offer was…surprising. Unfortunately, it was also pointless.
‘Overjoyed as I am to hear that, we’ve been living together under the same roof for the past month. Even if a court believed us, the ton would not.’
‘A divorce, then?’
‘It’s not quite so easy. A petition to parliament would be lengthy, expensive, and most likely unsuccessful.’
‘Unlikely doesn’t mean impossible.’
‘No, but the scandal of a divorce would be even greater than that of our marriage.’
‘I don’t care about scandal!’
‘You did on our wedding day. As I recall, your stated reason for going ahead was that you didn’t want to bring any shame on your family.
’ He flexed his fingers. ‘In any case, I won’t allow my name to be tarnished any more than it has been already.
I’ve had more than enough of being a laughing stock to the ton. ’
Her posture went rigid. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘I should think it was obvious. I’m the Marquess of Rainton. Your father is a gentleman farmer, is he not?’
‘My parents are perfectly respectable.’
‘I don’t doubt it. However, I also doubt they ever expected to have a marchioness for a daughter.’
Her nostrils flared, as if she was restraining her temper with an effort. ‘I still think there has to be a way out of this marriage.’
‘There isn’t.’
‘So that’s it?’ She stared at him with an appalled expression. ‘You’re just going to give up?’
‘Yes.’ He sighed, feeling very tired all of a sudden.
This whole argument seemed to have been revolving around his head for weeks.
Ironically, tonight was the first time he’d involved her in the discussion, but every time he’d come to the same disheartening conclusion, that there was no way out.
The marriage trap had well and truly closed around him.
‘Now, I think that’s enough of a tour for tonight.
I suggest we both retire and get some sleep. ’
‘Well, that explains it.’ She rose slowly to her feet, her gaze still fixed on his. ‘That’s why you look at me so coldly, like you despise me. It’s because you do.’
‘What else did you expect?’ He didn’t deny it. ‘This marriage isn’t what I wanted.’
‘Me neither, no matter what you think.’ She wrenched her shoulders back. ‘All I know is that there has to be some explanation for what happened and I’m going to find out what it is.’
He looked her up and down, impressed despite himself.
With her chin thrust outwards and a fierce glare on her face, she looked magnificently, almost regally defiant.
If he weren’t still so angry, he thought he might have been tempted to reach out and haul her against him, to stop her lips with his own.
Desire rippled through him at the thought of how she would feel, what she might taste like…
‘Then I wish you luck.’ He turned away quickly, reaching for her candle and heading for the door. ‘Come on, I’ll show you the way.’
He didn’t look back to see if she was following.