Harlequin Historical September 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: The Lone Sheriff\The Gentleman Rogue\Never Trust a Rebel (63 page)

BOOK: Harlequin Historical September 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: The Lone Sheriff\The Gentleman Rogue\Never Trust a Rebel
6.17Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

The rain had stopped but the air was cold and damp. The overcast sky would lower anyone's spirits, Elyse decided. After all, what had she to be gloomy about? Her future was secure, as Mrs William Reverson she would be a woman of substance and standing, married to the man she had dreamed of since she was seventeen.

Elyse stole a peep up at William as they strolled along Bath's busy pavements to the Pump Room. She had thought him the most handsome man of her acquaintance when they had met and now, at one-and-twenty, his classical looks were even more striking. His fair colouring was evident despite his powdered wig, the pale brows and lashes only accentuating his liquid-brown eyes. So why, when he turned his head to smile at her, did she think him less attractive? Was it that she had recently conceived a penchant for darker hair and blue, blue eyes?

No! She must not even think of that.

‘You are very pensive,' said William. ‘Is anything the matter?'

‘No, no, of course not.' Her doubts resurfaced. ‘Only, are you
sure
you want to marry me, William?'

‘Nothing I would like more,' he replied promptly. ‘It is all agreed, is it not? My father says he will let us have one of his properties, a snug little house in Berkshire where we may set up our nursery.' He squeezed her hand, where it rested on his sleeve. ‘A few more days and we will be man and wife. I cannot wait to have you to myself.'

Elyse remembered the delicious thrill of excitement she had felt when he had whispered such things to her in Scarborough. He had even stolen a kiss, which she had thought the most wonderful, daring and exciting thing in the world, but the kiss he had recently bestowed upon her in the morning room had left her strangely unmoved and now the thought of William taking her in his arms, of kissing her passionately, touching her the way Drew had done, made her shudder. Mistaking her reaction William laughed.

‘You are eager for it, too, I know, but we must be patient. It would not do to behave with any hint of impropriety while we are living under my father's roof.'

‘No, of course not.'

But once they were married, what then? she wondered. She could only pray that she would learn to love him again.

* * *

The week passed slowly but inexorably and Elyse tried to feel something other than growing apprehension for the approaching nuptials. She kept her anxiety hidden from her hosts and presented a cheerful smiling countenance whenever she was in company. Nothing could have exceeded Lord and Lady Whittlewood's kindness to her. She might not be the bride they would have chosen for their son but they had accepted the inevitable with a good grace and Elyse was grateful. For her it was a splendid match, arranged by Papa to secure her future comfort and it was churlish of her to want anything different. Churlish and futile, she scolded herself. Drew might be a free man now but he was lost to her. He did not love her and he was a rake: even if by some miracle she could marry him it would not work, his amours and intrigues could only result in repeated heartbreak for her.

* * *

Elyse was thankful her days were so busy. Her arrival in Queen Square without any luggage had scandalised Lady Whittlewood, who had hurriedly procured a few new gowns for her and taken her on numerous shopping trips to provide her with everything she would need for her new life as the Honourable Mrs William Reverson. Parcels arrived every day containing dresses, shoes, hats and myriad other items the viscountess considered essential for a lady's wardrobe. In addition to this Elyse threw herself energetically into all the arrangements for the marriage, as well as the party that had been arranged for the evening before the wedding.

Because Elyse was still in mourning for her father the marriage must be a very private affair. Only close family were to be present, and in Elyse's case even that was impossible since her only relative, Aunt Matthews, was still laid up with her broken arm. Aware that she would have no one to support her, the kindly viscountess had suggested that Mr Andrew Castlemain should be invited to the ceremony, but Lord Whittlewood had firmly but gently counselled against it.

‘He may be a very fine young man and of course he is pardoned now,' he said. ‘But the fact is he has been masquerading under a false name. Also his connections with the Jacobite cause are not something we should be seen to condone too much.'

‘That may be so,' replied Lady Whittlewood with unaccustomed firmness, ‘but he was Elyse's guardian and the poor young man's role in bringing her to us must be recognised.'

‘Then you must content yourself with the fact that you have invited him to your party, my dear. Such a distinction will do much to reinstate him in the polite world.'

Elyse found herself remembering those words as she took a leisurely breakfast on the morning of the party. She had hoped Drew would not come, but when she had been helping Lady Whittlewood with her correspondence she had seen the letter from Hartcombe. ‘My esteemed father is unable to attend,' it read, but any hopes that Drew might also stay away were dashed by the following line, a brief acceptance written in a bold, firm hand. Just the sight of Drew's name, written with a flourish at the bottom of the page, had caused her heart to thud erratically. Dear heaven how was she to face him again, knowing how much she still cared for him?

It would be best, she decided, if William could remain at her side this evening. Surely he would think it very natural that she should want his support. She would tell him she was nervous at the thought of being introduced to so many new people. It was not true, of course. She was naturally gregarious and relished such events, but she knew it would not be wise to confess to William that there was only one gentleman invited that evening whom she did not wish to meet.

With that problem resolved Elyse dressed quickly and made her way downstairs. She had left her reading book in the morning room last night and thought she should retrieve it before some eager servant tidied it away. She entered the room with her usual briskness to find William standing in the middle of the room with his arms around the second housemaid.

They jumped apart when Elyse came in but not before she had seen them kissing. The doubts and indecision, the sympathy Elyse had felt for William when she thought that she might be deceiving him, all were washed away by the huge wave of anger that surged through her. She stepped to one side to allow the maid to scurry away, her cheeks scarlet with mortification. Then with silent deliberation Elyse closed the door.

‘Is this a foretaste of what I am to expect as your wife?'

William shot her a resentful glance from beneath lowered brows. He looked very much like an errant schoolboy.

‘It was merely a little dalliance. There is not so very much wrong with that.'

‘Dalliance,' she repeated with a scornful curl of her lip. ‘On the eve of our wedding?'

‘Come along, Elyse, you must see that it was nothing more than a harmless little kiss.'

Elyse was outraged. ‘Your actions could result in that servant being turned off without a character.'

‘Not unless you tell Mama what has occurred here.' He drew himself up. ‘I am a man, Elyse, and I have needs. Since I cannot have you I must find solace elsewhere.'

‘You could not wait one more day?' She took a long deep breath, trying to control her temper. ‘When we were apart, then mayhap there was some excuse, but not here, now—'

He scowled at her.

‘You can have no reason to complain of my treatment of you. I have put myself out to dance attendance upon you ever since you arrived in Bath.'

‘I thought you wished to do so.'

‘Naturally I do not want to be thought backward in my attentions to my future wife.'

‘You make it sound like an onerous duty.'

‘Well, so it is.'

Her chin went up and she said frostily, ‘No one is forcing you to marry me.'

‘Of course they are!' he flashed back at her. ‘Do you think I would be marrying you if it wasn't for that damned wager...'

His words trailed off and in the deep silence that followed he gazed uncertainly at Elyse. She suddenly felt a little dizzy and sank down on the nearest sofa.

‘Wager? What do you mean?'

He flung himself down into a chair opposite and dropped his head in his hands. She said with quiet firmness, ‘The truth, William, if you please.'

‘It was when we met, three years ago in Scarborough.'

‘I remember. You asked me to marry you.'

He shrugged.

‘While we were dancing at the assemblies our fathers were engaged in games of chance. My father had lost a great deal of money to yours. Twenty thousand pounds.'

‘Twenty thousand!'

‘Such sums are regularly won and lost.'

Elyse paled. ‘Oh, heavens. I had heard that gambling was rife in London and Bath, but I never dreamed that such a thing could happen in Scarborough.'

‘Why not? It is a spa town and wherever the rich gather they need their amusements. Papa told me Salforde was willing to offset the debt in a marriage settlement. I was young, and you were very engaging,' William shrugged. ‘It seemed an excellent solution.'

‘Papa told me nothing of this.'

‘Why should he? You were only seventeen.'

‘As were you!'

‘But you are a female, and could not be expected to understand such matters.'

‘Instead I was allowed to think you were in love with me.'

‘And I was, at first. You know it was agreed we should not marry until I had come of age. There seemed plenty of time to enjoy myself before I had to settle down. Then, this spring, your father wrote to Papa to set a date and I realised it was not what I wanted at all, only by then it was too late. If I cried off the debt would have to be paid. Immediately and in full.' He frowned. ‘Our estates are not in good heart. Most of them are mortgaged to the hilt and any excess revenue is eaten up in living as we do.' He gave her a petulant look, as if anticipating her next remark. ‘Such expenditure is necessary for someone as prominent as my father. Then there was all the expense of Daphne's wedding to Berwick last year. Father could not possibly pay you the twenty thousand pounds to prevent our marriage. He called in his lawyer to go over the agreement again but there was no way out, save one, faint possibility. Papa wrote to insist that you join the family by Michaelmas or forfeit the contract. Then he removed us all to Bath, hoping you might not follow.'

‘And the attack upon our carriage?'

‘I swear my father had no hand in that.'

Elyse clasped her hands together in her lap. She had been waiting to announce to William and his family that she had a small fortune of her own now. Tomorrow when she became Mrs William Reverson it would become her husband's property. She had thought it would be a delightful surprise for him. Now it paled into insignificance against the debt her marriage would write off. She said slowly, ‘So we are to marry, to save your family from ruin and disgrace.'

‘Yes.' William rose from his chair. ‘We shall just have to make the best of it.'

She made no attempt to stop him as he left the room and when the door clicked shut she remained in her chair while the silence settled around her like a heavy cloak.

So William did not love her. The revelation following so closely upon Drew's rejection made her wonder if she was too romantic in her notions. Perhaps the love she had read of in books did not exist. Or perhaps it was exceedingly rare.

Elyse sighed and pushed away such dismal thoughts. She had so much to be thankful for. She and William might not be in love but many marriages began with no more than liking and were perfectly happy. There was no reason why theirs should not be so.

* * *

She heard the sounds of an arrival and peeped out to hear the butler's sonorous voice welcoming The Honourable Mr and Mrs Reverson to the house. So William's brother had arrived. She remembered that his sister and her husband were also expected, but she was in no mood to meet anyone just yet and slipped away to her own room, where she remained until dinnertime.

* * *

When Elyse entered the drawing room she found all the family gathered there. Introductions were performed and everyone greeted her civilly, but from the lack of interest they showed in her circumstances she inferred that they all knew about the terms of the marriage, and she was consequently very subdued as they went into dinner.

Chapter Eleven

‘W
ell, my dear, are you ready to meet the cream of Bath society?'

‘I am, my lady.'

Elyse was standing between the viscountess and William at the top of the staircase. She was very conscious of her grey silk, its neckline decorously filled with a white fichu, a stark contrast to the sea of coloured gowns milling below them as the first of the guests prepared to mount the stairs to the reception rooms. She smiled politely as she was presented to Lord This and Lady That, made her bow to an earl and his countess. Some of the guests she had met before when she had been out with William, but most were strangers and she tried to ignore the speculation their eyes, the whispered questions about her birth, her fortune and how had she managed to make such a splendid alliance. In the noise and confusion of the arrivals she heard Lady Whittlewood's laughing response to one matron's assertion that Miss Salforde was a very pretty young lady but quite unknown.

‘Oh, she is from the north, dear ma'am, but
perfectly
respectable. William was quite smitten from the first, and since Henry already has two sturdy boys to follow him the succession is secure. So who are we to stand in the way of love?'

* * *

And so it went on, lords, baronets and gentlemen, dowagers and ladies. It seemed to Elyse that the whole of Bath was present in the viscount's rooms but there was one exception, the one person she longed to see, the one she most dreaded meeting. Then he was there in the hall below her, handing his hat and cloak to the footman. Her heart lurched. He looked so tall and elegant in his new coat of blue Genoa velvet with the silver buttons. He was shaking out his ruffles, climbing the steps towards her, looking straight ahead, never glancing up.

‘Mr Castlemain. I am delighted you could come, sir.'

Lady Whittlewood held out her hand and Elyse watched as he bowed over it with exquisite grace. He was one of the few men to wear his own hair, long and confined at the nape of his neck by a black ribbon, but the thick, unpowdered mane glowed like dark honey in the candlelight, proclaiming the health and vigour of the man. Elyse clenched her hands around the stem of her fan. She remembered driving her fingers through those same silky locks, clinging on as Drew's mouth worked unspeakable delights on her body. She had been right to dread seeing him again.

‘Miss Salforde.'

His voice, deep and smooth as velvet, recalled her attention. He was standing before her, tall, broad-shouldered, achingly desirable but he could not be hers. Never hers. He was a rake, he stole hearts for a pastime. Angrily she drew herself up, gave him a haughty look and kept her hands firmly wrapped around the fan. She would not extend her fingers for him to kiss. Their eyes locked and she hoped her gaze conveyed the haughty disdain she wanted him to see and not the searing pain of her breaking heart. His showed nothing more than light amusement.

After a moment he gave a little bow and moved on. The viscountess touched her arm.

‘My dear, your greeting for Mr Castlemain was less than cordial. I know the revelations about his past came as a shock to us all, but he has been granted a full pardon and he
was
your guardian, Elyse. It would not do for you to be thought ungrateful for his care of you.'

Lady Whittlewood's gentle rebuke brought the colour stealing into Elyse's cheek but there was no time to respond, for more people were demanding their attention.

At last the line of guests dwindled away to nothing and Lady Whittlewood allowed William to take Elyse into the drawing room where there was such a crush as must gladden any hostess's heart. The double doors between this apartment and the one behind had been thrown wide to make a spacious reception chamber, glittering with light from the chandeliers and candles in their wall sconces that made the room as bright as day. As if some malicious spirit wished to persecute her, Elyse saw Drew immediately. His tall, dark figure was easily recognisable and a sudden shifting of the crowds created a space so she could see that he was part of a lively group. The gentlemen were laughing, the ladies fluttering their fans. As William led her past them Elyse noticed that each of the ladies had her eyes fixed upon Drew. She recognised the tell-tale gestures as they vied for his attention, the playful tap upon his sleeve, the fluttering of lashes. She dragged her eyes away, resolving to think of him no more.

William led her through the crowd, stopping for a word here and there. He was smiling and attentive, his manner a nice mixture of pride and pleasure as he showed off his future bride. Elyse began to relax. She was used to social gatherings such as this, could parry words with the wits amongst them and laughingly turn off the more impertinent enquiries about her background. William seemed pleased, too, for he patted her hand, saying,

‘We are a good pair, I think. We shall deal very well together.'

She smiled. ‘I hope so.'

She felt his hand on her waist, drawing her closer and he lowered his head to murmur in her ear. ‘You are looking dashed irresistible, too. Send your maid away as soon as you can tonight and I will come to your room.'

The scene she had witnessed in the morning room flashed into Elyse's mind and she stiffened, yet what could she say? Tonight or tomorrow, after the ceremony, what difference would it make?

A sudden flurry of activity near the door caught their attention. Latecomers had arrived, a group of young bucks, flamboyant in their powdered wigs and lavishly embroidered coats. They erupted noisily into the room, making loud, laughing apologies to Lady Whittlewood for their tardiness.

‘Who can these young men be?' wondered Elyse, standing on tiptoe to see what was happening. She chuckled. ‘I vow I have not seen them in the Pump Room taking the waters.'

‘No, indeed, they are friends of mine,' said William. ‘I had best explain to Mama that I invited them.' He hesitated. ‘Would you mind if I did not present them to you immediately? I should like to talk to them first, alone.'

‘I do not object to their high spirits, William.'

‘But I do. I would not have them put you to the blush.' He released her. ‘Give me a few moments, my dear, no more, I vow.'

He kissed her cheek and left her, pushing his way through the press of people until he was swallowed up in the crowd.

‘Very affecting.'

She swung around to find Drew standing beside her.

‘Do not sneer at William, he is very considerate to me.'

She hunched a shoulder and turned away from him.

‘I do not sneer. It was an observation.' He stood beside her. ‘Was it your idea to invite me?'

‘No. Lady Whittlewood suggested it. She thought it would help your standing, if you are going to remain at Hartcombe.'

‘Then I am in her debt.'

‘Is that why you came?' She could not resist the question, any more than she could prevent the wistful note creeping into her voice. She wanted him to say he had come to see her, to assure himself that she was happy.

‘Of course. If I am to restore Hartcombe such connections as I am making this evening will be invaluable.'

The tiny spark of hope died.

‘I am glad. How is your arm?'

‘It barely troubles me now.'

It had not troubled him at all when he had embraced her in the pavilion. She must not think of that. It was over.

With the faintest inclination of her head she moved away. She could be happy without Drew Castlemain, she would do her duty to William and
learn
to be happy. The room had become even more crowded, if that was possible, and noisy with chatter and brash laughter. The crush of bodies added to the heat from the candles and the fires blazing in the hearths. Elyse found it rather oppressive and her head was beginning to ache.

‘Tomorrow you become Mrs William Reverson.'

Drew's voice in her ear made her jump. He had followed her.

‘Yes.'

‘And you are happy at the prospect?'

Anger surged within Elyse. How dare he come here to taunt her?

‘Of course.' He chin went up and she forced herself to turn her head and meet his eye. ‘William and I are very well suited.'

* * *

Wish her joy and leave, now.

Drew recognised the wisdom of the thought but could not act upon it. He had glimpsed the sadness behind the fire in Elyse's brown eyes, the same sadness he had seen there that day in the pavilion. It had haunted his dreams ever since and made him question if he had been right to push her away so ruthlessly. He determined that if she had any doubts at all she should not marry Reverson.

‘Elyse.' He took her arm. ‘Pray, if you will, spare me a few moments alone with you.' He saw her look of alarm and added quickly, ‘I wish to talk to you, nothing more, you have my word.'

She regarded him for a moment, then seemed to come to a decision. With a slight, decisive nod she set off through the crowd. Drew remained a discreet distance behind her. A screen had been set up to shield the service door through which the servants made their way to and from the room. Elyse slipped behind it and Drew found himself on a narrow landing at the top of the backstairs. It was mercifully empty and he followed her to another door just beyond the staircase.

It led to a small sitting room. A few candles burned but the room's plain furnishings indicated that it was not used for entertaining. Elyse turned to face him, hands clenched nervously before her. Drew noted that the stomacher of her pewter gown was decorated with tiny jet beads that caught the light and he found himself thinking of the first time he had seen her. She had been wearing dull black bombazine but it had only served to emphasis the beauty of her dark eyes and lustrous dark hair. He had thought her beautiful even then.

‘Well, sir, what is it you want to say to me?' Her cold tone brought his wandering thoughts back to the present. ‘Be quick about it, if you please. I shall be missed.'

‘I owe you an apology,' he began. ‘I have behaved abominably to you.'

The angry look did not fade from her face.

‘You have indeed, but it taught me a valuable lesson.' Her tone was light and brittle as glass. ‘It showed me how close I had come to ruin. It made me appreciate everything William has to offer.'

‘Does he love you?'

* * *

Elyse blinked. She had not been expecting such a direct question.

‘Of course.' Her eyes slid away from his searching look as she pushed aside the vision of William and the housemaid. ‘Why else would he have offered for me?' She added defiantly, ‘I know the truth now. I know of the wager, and why the viscount allowed the match. William told me of it, to assure me it made no difference to him.' She recalled Lady Whittlewood's words. ‘He was smitten from the first, you see.'

‘And do you love him?'

She felt the prickle of tears behind her eyes. This was intolerable. He had no right to question her like this.

‘I do. Now pray let me return to the party.'

He caught her arm as she tried to walk past him.

‘I do not believe you. The way you responded to my kiss—'

Her head went up.

‘That was merely a—a foolish, lustful interlude. It had nothing to do with love.'

‘And what do you know of that?' he demanded angrily. ‘You think yourself in love with a boy you met when you were seventeen and whom you did not see again until a few weeks ago.'

‘I know more of love than you,' she flashed. ‘You know only lust and seduction and deceit.' She pulled herself free from his grasp. ‘Tell me, was I still at Hartcombe when you learned that you were a free man?'

‘What?' He looked at her as if her question had caught him off-guard. ‘Yes, my father told me, the day before we left.'

The day he had made love to her in the pavilion.

‘But you kept the truth from me.'

He rubbed a hand over his eyes. ‘What good would it have done to tell you?'

‘And you persuaded Sir Edward not to say anything?'

‘I did. I did not wish him to—' He spread his hands. ‘It was not important. You were coming to Bath to marry Reverson.'

A chill ran through Elyse, as if there was ice in her blood.

‘You are right,' she said stiffly. ‘I
am
going to marry William. Did you think your scorn that morning was not rejection enough? Perhaps you were afraid I would cling to you even more if I had known you were no longer an outlaw.'

‘No! I did not know
then
—'

She broke across his protest, unheeding. ‘You are despicable. I am only thankful that after tonight I need never see you again.' She dashed a hand across her eyes. ‘Now, let me go back to my fiancé.'

‘And if I said I loved you?'

His words hit her battered heart like heavy stones. What was he trying to do? Was he merely taunting her, or did he want to establish her as his flirt, his lover even before she was married? He was testing her, playing his rakish games, but she would not rise to the bait. Misery and anger was a potent mix, but it kept her tears at bay and allowed her to speak with unwavering and icy deliberation.

‘You have my sympathy, but you can hardly expect me to rejoice at such a declaration. It is as unwelcome as it is unlooked for.'

His eyes were blazing and she stepped back, out of reach. If he dragged her into his arms and kissed her now he would know she was lying. She loved him with an intensity that terrified her. She summoned up the last shreds of control.

‘Please leave now, Mr Castlemain. It is best if we do not meet again.'

* * *

Drew saw her step away from him; saw the fear in her eyes and silently cursed himself for seven kinds of fool. For a man famed for his address he had handled this very badly. He had intended to suggest to her in a reasoned way that she need not marry Reverson, that she need not marry anyone, if she didn't wish to do so. Then he had planned to declare himself, to tell her that his hand and his heart were hers for the taking. Instead he had blurted out his feelings like any mooncalf and she had recoiled in disgust. He reached out for her.

Other books

Wyatt - 04 - Cross Kill by Garry Disher
Heat of the Storm by Elle Kennedy
Long Division by Kiese Laymon
The Wild Road by Marjorie M. Liu
Lady of Pleasure by Delilah Marvelle
Dragon House by John Shors