Amanda Scott - [Dangerous 02] (26 page)

To Antony’s relief, when it was suggested to Lady Ophelia that she might like to remove to Seacourt House, she said that Lady St. Merryn would be more comfortable if she remained at Tuscombe. “Moreover,” she added disconcertingly, “newlyweds ought never to be saddled with a lot of well-meaning relations. You will do much better to have time together without interference, if only to get to know each other better.”

Antony exchanged a look with Charlotte, wondering when she would recall that their wedding night lay ahead. The startled look on her face told him the thought had entered her mind at almost the same moment it had entered his. When Lady Ophelia turned away, he said in an undertone, “Now that they know we are leaving almost at once, no one will think it odd if we keep the rooms we have. Plead an incipient cold or some such thing if you think you need offer any explanation to your maid.”

Looking relieved, Charlotte said, “I’ll simply say I’m tired, and leave Kerra to draw her own conclusions. I am not in the habit of confiding in her.”

The next day, being Sunday, passed quietly and without incident, and on Monday they accomplished the move to Seacourt House with little fanfare. Letty, at least, expressed herself delighted to leave Tuscombe Park behind. As they rode along the path to the cliff tops, with Sebastian dashing ahead of them, amusing himself by startling birds from the underbrush, the child said happily, “Cousin Charley, I’m very glad you decided to marry Sir Antony instead of Rockland.”

Antony watched Charlotte to see what her reaction would be, but although her cheeks reddened, she said calmly, “Are you, darling? I thought you liked Rockland.”

“I do. I just like Sir Antony better. Moreover,” Letty added with a mischievous grin as she scratched the little monkey’s head, which poked through the opening in her cloak, “now Jeremiah and Sebastian won’t have to spend all their time in confinement.”

Antony chuckled, but a thought crossed his mind, and he said, “Perhaps you are being too optimistic, Letty. There is every chance, you know, that your cousin Melissa won’t want monkeys or dogs running free in her house.”

Charlotte laughed heartily, and Antony realized it was the first time he had heard her do so. She raised her face to the cerulean sky and gave free rein to merriment.

Letty watched, clearly bewildered, and finally when Charlotte gasped for breath with tears running down her face, the child said, “But what is so funny? Do tell us.”

Charlotte looked from one to the other, still struggling to control her mirth. At last, she said, “I just suddenly saw a picture in my mind of Seacourt House filled with shaggy dogs and noisy monkeys, and us. How Uncle Geoffrey would have hated that! He was Melissa’s papa,” she said to Antony, “a perfectly horrid man. First, the thought of Jeremiah running free in his house made me laugh. Then I realized Uncle Geoffrey would dislike my living there almost as much as he would have loathed Jeremiah. But Melissa will not mind in the least. She will be delighted when she learns that we are turning her house back into a home, even if it’s only for a little while.”

Seeing curiosity leap again to Letty’s eyes, Antony said hastily, “You must write at once to her, my dear Charlotte, and explain matters to her. Tell her that we wanted a little respite from Alfred and the others, and her house was just too tempting to resist.”

“Oh, yes,” Letty said. “Once she learns how awful it was living with Cousin Alfred, she will understand entirely why you wanted to leave.”

“I wrote the letter yesterday,” Charlotte said, “and it went out with the post before we left this morning. I can just see Uncle Geoffrey, bellowing and carrying on. He was much worse than Alfred.” When she laughed again, Antony found himself looking forward to the next fortnight with more pleasure than he had expected. Life with the fascinating Charley as his wife was bound to be an interesting challenge.

W
HAT ON EARTH HAD
she got herself into, Charley wondered, as she and Sir Antony, and Letty and Jeremiah, followed Aggie Corlan upstairs to the family wing of Seacourt House. Not only had the child and Aggie accepted her marriage as unquestioned reality but it was rapidly being brought home to her that, although she had avoided the consequences of a wedding night, the marriage was nonetheless real.

She had recited her vows before a bishop of Cornwall, and they were sacred vows. Amongst them lay a promise to honor and obey her husband. That she had not known she was pledging obedience to Sir Antony instead of Rockland seemed a mere quibble now. A new thought occurred to her, and she silently cursed Letty’s presence, and that of the housekeeper, as well, because they prevented her from asking Sir Antony the question now reverberating in her mind.

Aggie Corlan approached a tall, ornately carved white door and said as she opened it, “These be the master’s chambers, sir. Corlan and me did clear out the wardrobe and the chests in yon dressing room, and I’m thinking Mr. Hodson has already put your things in their places. We’ve no proper laundry maid at present, I’m afraid, nor proper chambermaids, for all that. Just myself and Corlan and the girl what comes to help me with heavy cleaning.”

“Her Ladyship will soon see to hiring more servants,” Sir Antony said.

Charley had been looking around the spacious, very masculine bedchamber with curiosity, but she turned in surprise when she realized he was referring to her. She remembered that Letty had mentioned soon after the fateful ceremony that she would have a title, but although Sir Antony had stopped calling her
Miss
Charlotte, no one had referred to her since as anything but Charlotte or Cousin Charley, or ma’am.

He went on without hesitation, “No doubt Lady Foxearth will enjoy seeing this house come alive again.”

Exchanging a look with Aggie Corlan, Charley said, “I don’t know that I can honestly say I’ve ever seen this house as a lively place. I’ve been inside it numerous times, to be sure, but I’ve never seen this room before. I’ve seen only the public ones, and of course, the old schoolroom, and Melissa’s bedchamber. Uncle Geoffrey did not encourage little girls to run free in his house.” Smiling at Letty, she added, “I daresay we will put you in Cousin Melissa’s old bedchamber. She will require a maidservant, too, Aggie. We’ve brought no one with us but Sir Antony’s man and Kerra, I’m afraid, and Kerra is not accustomed to helping with general housework.”

“Dear me, ma’am, I’d never expect it of her, now she’s a lady’s maid. No need to fret yourself, however. I’ve a niece who will be happy to help with the housework and look after her young ladyship, as well, until you find someone more suitable.”

“Excellent. Now, when you have shown me my bedchamber, perhaps you will take Lady Letitia to see hers. Then you can make a list of the servants as we shall require. We shan’t need many, for we do not mean to entertain for some time yet.”

“Nor no one won’t expect it, my lady,” Aggie agreed with an uncharacteristic twinkle. “Not for at least a month, though I’ll warrant you’ll have bride visits aplenty once word gets round that you’ve married. Now, Lady Letitia, you come along with me, and after we look at your bedchamber, you shall come down to my kitchen, where I’ve left some gingerbread a-baking. I’ll warrant you and that bright-eyed little critter both have a liking for gingerbread.”

“Oh, yes, please,” Letty said. “We’ve discovered a fondness for saffron buns, too, and we both like fruit. But, please, call me Miss Letty and not Lady Letitia. I’m glad you are not afraid of Jeremiah.” As the door closed behind them, she was heard to add cheerfully, “He’s quite tame, you know. He will even shake hands if you like.”

Sir Antony said, “That relationship promises to prosper.”

“It does.” The question she had been burning to ask him hovered on the tip of her tongue, but awareness that she was alone with him in his bedchamber held it in check. Determined not to reveal her unease, she said lightly, “Aggie neglected to show me my bedchamber.”

“I daresay it is the next room to this,” he said, striding to the nearest door and thrusting it open. “No, that’s my dressing room. It must be the other one, yonder.” Crossing the room, he opened the second door and said with satisfaction, “Here we are, and as fine a view of the sea as can be had from mine. I could grow fond of this house.”

“Wait till you experience it in a storm,” Charley said. “I spent a night here once in a terrifying thunderstorm. I’ll never forget it.”

“Are you afraid of storms? The house seems quite solidly built.”

“I suppose it is,” she agreed, but she was not thinking of the weather. “Look here, sir, I simply cannot sleep in the room adjoining yours. I’ll tell Aggie to prepare another one for me.”

“You can’t do that,” he said gently.

“Don’t be absurd. There must be a dozen other bedchambers in this house.”

“None of which is the mistress’s chamber, however.”

“What difference can that make? No one else need know.” Even as the words crossed her lips, however, she knew word would soon spread, not just through the household but beyond, especially since they would be hiring more servants.

He was watching her, and he said now, “We must maintain the pretense of a normal marriage, or there is no point to this exercise. All Cornwall would soon be gossiping about us. In order for me to continue to act as Jean Matois when necessary and still be accepted as Sir Antony, there must not be any stirring of local curiosity. I must be accepted as what I appear to be.”

“Look here, sir,” she said bluntly, “is our marriage even legal?”

“As legal as legal can be.”

“But how can that be? Rockland put what he assumed were your proper names and titles, but since you are cutting a sham—”

“You were married to Sir Antony Foxearth, angel. That is the name by which I have been known for years to folks here in England, and is as legal a name as any other I might possess. As for the title, Wellington himself arranged for my baronetcy.”

“Rockland did not put Tarrant, then?”

With a crooked smile, Sir Antony said, “He did not.”

“Then our marriage is legal.”

“It is. You are Lady Foxearth.”

She smiled weakly. “Aggie must have seen how taken aback I was to hear myself called so.”

“I daresay she will put it down to nerves and the fact that you have but recently come by the title.”

Charley glanced through the open door at the bedchamber that would be hers. She suddenly felt nervous, not just of Sir Antony but of the whole unfamiliar situation in which she found herself.

He seemed to know what she was thinking, for he said quietly, “Tonight will be no different from last night or the night before or the night before that. I will ask no more than that you play your part,
mon ange.
If it will make you feel more secure, there is a key in that lock. You may keep the door locked.”

She relaxed, realizing she had no fear that he might try to ravish her. With a half-smile of apology, she said, “I’ll keep the key, but I won’t lock it without cause, sir. Only think what tales the servants will tell if they find that door locked.”

“Thank you,” he said. “I promise, you have nothing to fear from me.”

She was not so sure. Something about him made her unusually uncertain of herself. Never had she even been tempted to treat him as cavalierly as she treated Rockland. Whenever Rockland displeased or irritated her, she said so at once, never hesitating to speak her mind to him. Indeed, it had been that very factor that had led her to think she might be able to endure marriage to him.

She had thought she felt completely at ease with Rockland, but she knew now that that was not true. She had merely convinced herself that he would not attempt to rule her. He never had tried such a thing, but had he dared, she would have found it easy to oppose him. The thought of setting herself in opposition to Sir Antony stirred a tingling in her midsection. She did not think that would be so easy. Several days later, in the sunny breakfast parlor, when she informed him that she had decided to ride to Lostwithiel that day, she discovered that her assessment of him was correct.

Reaching for the cream pot without so much as glancing at her, he said, “No.”

They sat with Letty at a round table in a large, semicircular bay that provided a near panoramic view of the Channel. Except for a few wispy clouds, the sky was clear. The tide was in, and where the sea rolled heavily against the rocks, spray and white foam shot high in the air. The thick walls of Seacourt House muted the rhythmic sound, but they provided a musical background to life at the house, which Charley generally found soothing. Now, however, she was anything but calm. She stared at Sir Antony, now engaged in pouring rich Cornish cream over his oatmeal.

“What do you mean, no?”

“The word is clear enough, I think. Letty,” he added, “I would prefer that you not allow Jeremiah to scatter toast crumbs all over the table.”

Reminded of Letty’s presence, Charley struggled to control her temper, saying with forced calm, “If you have finished your breakfast, darling, why don’t you take Jeremiah outside? He can throw his crumbs to the ducks in the horse pond.”

“Are we not going riding at all then?” Letty asked, getting up and settling the monkey on her shoulder. Jeremiah clutched his toast tightly in his tiny hands.

“We’ll see,” Charley said, meeting Sir Antony’s gaze with a challenging look.

“’Tis a shrewd doubt, though it be but a dream,’” he murmured.

Charley said no more until Letty had gone away with Jeremiah, and then she said stiffly, “I did not recognize that one, I’m afraid.”

“Othello.”
He watched her, his oatmeal untouched. It was the first time since shortly after their arrival that she had found herself completely alone with him. She and Aggie had been busy setting the house in order, and she knew Sir Antony and Sam Corlan had given similar attention to the stables and surrounding estate. Sir Antony clearly wanted the place to come alive. He had even sent for Teddy and Jeb, and several of her horses from Tuscombe Park.

Sir Antony had not forgotten his mission. He had disappeared without a word several times, and once, she was certain, he had been away all night. She had tried to winkle information out of Hodson, but although the man was pleasant and possessed an air of quiet dignity, he proved to be as close as an oyster with facts about his master or his master’s activities. Being left to her own devices, she saw now, he had lulled her into a false sense of independence, but she would allow no one to dictate her movements.