Chapter 4 #5
Her heart pounded wildly against the wall of her chest, making it difficult to breathe.
Until that moment she had been too overwhelmed with shock and fear to have any clear thought on how to handle the situation.
But the fact that Charles honestly did not know who Haydon was shook her from her numbness.
Charles had never met Lord Redmond, she realized.
A quick look at both Governor Thomson and Constable Drummond revealed that they, too, were not entirely sure that the elegantly attired man standing with such assured composure before them was the dangerous murderer they sought.
It was this slight uncertainty, this faint possibility that there was a sufficient difference in Haydon’s appearance and manner and dress, that spurred her to action.
When she had first seen Lord Redmond rising from the chair in her drawing room, she had found the changes in his manner and appearance dramatic, and she had had the opportunity to study him at length as he lay upstairs in her relatively well-lit chamber.
She could only hope that for Governor Thomson and Constable Drummond, who had viewed the man before them only as a filthy, feverish drunk with scraggly hair and many days’ growth of rough beard lying in a ragged uniform inside a miserably lit cell, the difference was even more compelling.
Everyone was staring at her expectantly, including Haydon, who could not imagine what tale she was about to weave. Her mind swiftly considered and rejected a list of possibilities of who Haydon might be. Cousin. Uncle. Friend. Acquaintance.
Ultimately there was only one role that she believed would offer him the requisite protection he so desperately needed.
“Gentlemen, I should like to introduce you to Mr. Maxwell Blake—my husband.”
She did not know who within the crowded drawing room looked more shocked—her children, her uninvited guests or Eunice, Doreen and Oliver, who were blinking in astonishment.
“Married?” sputtered Charles, his watery, gray eyes nearly popping from his head. “You got married?”
“Yes.” She moved to Haydon’s side and looked up at him, smiling brightly, surreptitiously pleading with him to play along with her ruse. Haydon stared back at her, careful to keep his expression composed as he considered this inconceivable turn of events.
And then, realizing he had no choice, he placed his hand at her back in a gesture that clearly intimated the proprietary rights of a husband. She trembled beneath his touch, and it pained him deeply to think of how great her fear was at that moment.
“Yes,” he said, firmly drawing her against the solid wall of his body. “I’m afraid we did.”
His powerful arm wrapped about her like a heavy shield, and the heat of his flesh penetrated the thin fabric of her dress, helping to ease her shivering.
Genevieve knew she had set them upon a treacherous path, but at that moment she could think of no other way to save him.
Drawing strength from the hardness of him pressing against her, she inhaled a steadying breath and forged ahead.
“Maxwell,” she continued pleasantly, “this is Lord Linton, an old friend who I’m certain will want you to call him Charles, and Governor Thomson, the esteemed governor of our jail, who in the past has been so supportive of my efforts to help the children.
And this is Police Constable Drummond, who works hard to keep the streets of Inveraray safe for all of us. ”
“It is a pleasure to finally meet you, gentlemen.” Haydon extended his hand to each of them. “Especially you, Charlie.” Haydon enjoyed the flash of irritation that tightened Charles’s mouth. “My wife has spoken to me about each of you at length.”
“But—how?” demanded Charles, whose face had reddened to an extraordinary shade of scarlet. “When?”
“Actually, we were married a few months ago,” Genevieve supplied, her mind whirling as she struggled to fabricate a credible sequence of events.
“You may remember, Charles, that I had to travel to Glasgow to oversee some business matters regarding my father’s estate.
Maxwell and I met at an art gallery there. ”
“My wife and I share a similar passion for art.” Haydon smiled fondly at her.
“I’m afraid our courtship was rather brief,” Genevieve added, frantically trying to work out the details in her mind.
“I asked for her hand the very day that we met,” continued Haydon smoothly.
“As I’m sure you gentlemen can appreciate, I was utterly overwhelmed by her beauty, and was absolutely determined that she not escape my grasp.
” He cast a thoroughly self-satisfied look at Charles, indicating that he was well aware of his wife’s prior relationship to him.
“She wouldn’t have me at first,” he confessed, chuckling.
“Fortunately, I am not a man who backs down easily from a challenge—especially when the rewards promise to be so great.” He caressed her cheek lightly with the back of his fingers, then smiled with husbandly amusement at the rosy blush that flooded her skin.
“Well, I believe congratulations are in order,” managed Governor Thomson, who still looked utterly astounded.
“Thank you, governor,” said Haydon. “Your good wishes are most welcome.”
“I’m confused as to why you failed to mention your recent marriage when we called upon you a few days ago.” Constable Drummond’s gaze bore into Genevieve, trying to delve beneath the surface of her breathless performance.
“I’m afraid I am responsible for that,” Haydon asserted, unfazed.
“Business matters in London have kept me from joining my new family until now, and my wife and I had decided that we would not tell anyone of our marriage until I had actually settled in a bit here in Inveraray. We were particularly concerned that the children might grow inordinately anxious about my impending arrival if they knew about it too far in advance. As I have only been here a few days, and we have been keeping mostly to ourselves, my wife has been reticent to announce our union. On the morning you unexpectedly called,” he continued, making only a slight emphasis on the fact that they had not been invited over, “I had not yet finished dressing and was therefore unable to come down and be properly introduced. Finally, I don’t believe my wife has grown quite accustomed to her new status as a married woman—have you, Mrs. Blake?
” He flashed her a devastatingly charming smile, which had the immediate effect of flooding Genevieve’s cheeks with color once again.
“I’m sure you gentlemen can understand our desire for privacy after such a lengthy separation,” he finished, grinning broadly.
“Ah yes, of course,” said Governor Thomson, looking thoroughly uncomfortable with such a delicate subject. He cleared his throat. “Absolutely.”
Charles glared at Haydon with barely concealed acrimony. “Of course,” he bit out stiffly.
His loathing was palpable to Haydon. It was clear to him that the earl was painfully unresolved about his decision to break his betrothal to Genevieve.
Perhaps he had long soothed his ire by convincing himself that no one else would ever want her.
The thought infuriated Haydon. He found himself wondering what vacuous, servile chit poor Charles had found to marry in her stead.
The sound of a stomach growling filled the uncomfortable silence.
“Are we going to have supper soon?” Simon wondered, rubbing his belly. “I’m starving.”
“Sweet saints, I’ve forgotten my haggis!” burst out Eunice. “Here it is, nearly supper time and I’ve nae mashed my tatties. Do excuse me, Miss Genevieve—and of course you, too, Mr. Blake…sir.” She bobbed a quick, clumsy curtsy at the two of them, then bustled out of the room.
“Oh my, I didn’t realize ’twas so late,” Doreen added, glancing at the clock on the fireplace mantel.
“Come, my chicks, ye can help me lay the table for supper.” She headed toward the door, then stopped suddenly.
“Providin’, of course, that’s all right with ye, Mr. and Mrs. Blake.
” Her knees cracked like dry kindling as she also dipped awkwardly before her supposed employers.
“That is fine, Doreen.” Genevieve was thankful to Eunice and Doreen for making it clear to their unwanted guests that it was late and their visit should come to an end. “Mr. Blake and I will be in the dining room shortly.”
“Off we go, then, children,” said Oliver. “Let’s see if we can get some of the grime off yer hands afore ye start touchin’ all those plates and forks.”
The children hesitated.
“Come and see how well I can fold the napkins, Mr. Blake,” Jamie pleaded, taking Haydon’s hand. “I’ve been practicing.”
“And I want to show you how well I polished the teapot.” Charlotte limped over to Haydon and tentatively laid her fingers upon his sleeve.
She was shivering, Haydon realized. Something told him that her fear was not solely for his fate, but also for her own.
A quick perusal of their guests revealed that Constable Drummond was staring at her with particular contempt.
An unfamiliar feeling of protectiveness seeped through Haydon.
He released his hold on Genevieve to pull Charlotte between them, then laid his hand with gentle reassurance on the fragile child’s thin shoulder.
“I would very much like to see that, Charlotte,” he murmured, his voice low and sure.
“Oliver said a genie would come out if we polished the silver long enough, but nothing happened,” complained Annabelle, winding an arm around Genevieve’s waist. “Do you believe in genies, Mr. Blake?”
“Everyone knows there’s no such thing,” Simon scoffed. He took his place beside Jamie, thereby completing the shielding ring of children around Genevieve and Haydon. “There’s no scientific evidence to prove it.”