Regency Innocents (62 page)

‘I can quite see why you have claimed to be indisposed for the last few days,' her mother said.

She cleared her throat. ‘Naturally, I could not go out while the bruises were at their worst. And I was a little
shaken up, to be honest. I would not have come today, were it not for the fact that I shall be travelling down to Wycke tomorrow, and wished to take my leave of you both. I will write, of course, from there.'

Mrs Gillies relaxed immediately, understanding the silent message that her daughter would tell her everything in due course.

‘Well, I am glad you came in person. For I should not have liked you to find out my news by means of a letter. I am engaged to be married!' Susannah beamed. ‘To Mr Percy Lampton!'

Deborah felt the world tilt on its axis. She dared not look in her husband's direction. What a blow it must be to him, just when he had believed he was on the verge of winning his heart's desire.

‘H-how came this about? I thought you had quite despaired of him.'

‘Yes, I had,' she admitted, her eyes growing soulful. ‘And despair … yes, yes, that is exactly what I suffered. I did not know how I could bear it. But only yesterday he came here, begging leave to speak with me in private. I did not know that I should receive him, but in the end, your mother persuaded me to take a turn about the garden with him.'

Deborah's heart jolted. Could he have proposed, in the garden, in the very spot where Robert had proposed to her?

‘Firstly, he begged that I would forgive him for neglecting me for such a long time, after having paid me such particular attention. He explained that, at first, he had only meant to pass some time flirting with the prettiest débutante of the Season. But as time went on, his
attraction to me grew so strong that he felt impelled to break off all contact with me, before things went too far. For his family would never agree to him marrying a woman from my background. He knew that he would have to choose between me and his family, should he propose marriage. But in the end, he could stay away no longer. He cannot live without me. There!' she finished, her hands clasped together, her eyes bright with wonder. ‘Is that not wonderful?'

‘Amazing,' said Deborah weakly, finally darting a concerned look in her husband's direction. His face expressed all the contempt she had known he must feel on hearing such an ingenuous declaration. They both knew why Lampton had begun to flirt with Susannah. And could both guess what he was playing at now.

Hincksey was a dangerous man to cross. He was obviously not going to rest until he recouped Lampton's debts one way or another. He must have realised he had made a grave error in supposing Robert would be a soft target, and decided to lean on Lampton again.

Desperate to find the money to pay the villain off, Lampton must have seen he had no choice but to take advantage of Susannah's infatuation with him. It might mean breaking with his family, but, by the sound of it, the threats Hincksey had used on him had made him fear for his very life. He probably believed he would not live if he could not persuade Susannah to marry him, and thereby gain control of her dowry. It would have given his lying words the very ring of sincerity needed to convince Susannah he was in earnest, especially when he was telling her exactly what she most wanted to hear.

‘I do hope you will be happy,' she managed to say, when she could not in all conscience offer very fulsome congratulations.

‘Oh, I shall be …' she sighed, a faraway look in her eyes ‘… for I love Percy so much! We will be married as soon as the banns can be called,' she went on, sitting forward. ‘I do hope you will be my maid of honour. Even though you never asked me to be yours,' she added with a touch of reproof.

‘I am sure Deborah would be delighted,' Robert put in, rather shocking her. ‘You must let us know when and where the wedding is to take place, and she will attend you.'

The rest of the visit was taken up in discussing Susannah's bride clothes, how delighted her parents would be that she had made such a satisfactory match in her very first Season, and whether she should marry in the fashionable St George's Chapel, or in their own parish church at Lower Wakering.

Robert, unsurprisingly, had made no contribution to the conversation. When the time came for them to leave, he could not disguise his relief.

He sank into the seat opposite her in the cab that they hired to take them back to Walton House, looking drained.

In spite of the fact that Deborah had decided she no longer loved him, he looked such a picture of abject misery that her tender heart went out to him.

‘I am so sorry,' she said softly, barely restraining herself from reaching out to touch him comfortingly upon his sleeve.

His eyes flew open, catching her in the very act of withdrawing her hand and curling it in her lap.

‘What have you to be sorry for?'

‘That Percy Lampton is going to marry Susannah after all.'

He frowned at her for a few seconds before saying slowly, ‘I do not know why you should think I might be sorry Lampton is marrying her. It was at my suggestion, after all!'

‘Y-your suggestion? But you could not want him to … not any man to …' She faltered to a close, completely bewildered by his statement.

‘Of course I wanted Lampton to marry Susannah. They deserve each other!' he snapped. ‘She is a silly, selfish, shallow creature who only looks upon the outward man, and all he wants is enough money to live in style. He does not care how he acquires it, even to marrying a girl he feels is so far beneath him on the social scale that she is fit only to be his mistress.'

Deborah shook her head. ‘I cannot believe …' but suddenly, she saw what had happened. He had fallen out of love with Susannah, just as painfully as she had fallen out of love with him. It seemed that unrequited love was doomed to wither away. It certainly explained the bitterness of the words he had chosen to describe Susannah's character. Had she not cursed him soundly, during her long, lonely, sleepless nights? And as she turned to look out of the window she noticed how many people's faces, as they hurried along the streets, looked strained or downcast. Life, she decided, was a depressing business.

‘Can you not believe that I would do anything to keep you safe, Deborah?' he said urgently, leaning towards her.

She turned to him with a start. This was the very last thing she would have expected him to say. Her astonishment must have shown on her face, because he sat back, his own face taking on a sardonic cast.

‘No, you cannot believe anything good of me. I do not blame you, I suppose, but this I will tell you. I warned Lampton that if he did not marry Susannah, I would make him pay for putting your life in danger. I only had to discharge my pistol the once, to make him see that it was high time he swallowed his pride. He soon decided he could marry a girl whose money comes from trade, once he understood he had to pay Hincksey what he owed, else face my vengeance. Why should I care how miserable either of them are, so long as I know Hincksey will never have cause to go near you again?'

‘Y-you threatened him with a pistol?' Her heart had begun to beat in a strange and irregular rhythm.

‘I took Linney with me, naturally,' he sneered. ‘I am not up to doing much in the way of intimidation on my own. Even with a brace of pistols. But then, Lampton is not much of a match,' he said bitterly. ‘He is only up to bullying and cheating women. Faced with a man, even half a man like myself, he soon showed his true colours.'

‘Why, Robert? Why did you insist he marry Susannah? When you could have … Oh!' It would be easier to conduct an affair with a married woman. If they were discreet, Susannah's reputation would not suffer.

‘Robert, I am sorry, but I do not think it will work
out for you. Susannah loves Lampton. And she never … that is, she could not …' She shook her head again, unable to tell him, even now, that her friend found him physically repulsive.

Though she had turned to him that night by the fountain. Perhaps that one incident had given him hope that, once she had seen through Lampton, Susannah might be desperate enough to turn to him again.

The cab drew up outside Walton House and a footman hurried to open the door and help her, and her husband, to alight.

They went inside, side by side, to all appearances as though they were any married couple, returning from paying a morning call. Though he looked as though his world was coming to an end, and she felt as though she was bleeding inside.

When they reached the foot of the stairs, he cleared his throat.

‘Would you spare me a few moments before you return to your rooms?' he said in a clipped voice. ‘There is a matter we need to discuss.'

Her heart sank. There could surely not be anything more to say, could there? Their marriage was over. Did he really think she could sit and discuss it, rationally? Yes, she thought, turning to him with a resigned expression on her face. He still thought this had been just a business arrangement on her part. He still had no idea how she had felt when she had agreed to be his convenient wife.

‘Please?'

Her eyes came to rest on his face, flinching at the
look that struck such a chord with her own misery. There was nobody who could understand, better than she, what he was suffering right now at the thought of his beloved giving her heart and her life to another. With a sigh, she nodded her acquiescence.

She took her place on one of the sofas before the empty fireplace, mechanically removing her bonnet and veil, laying them on the cushions beside her, while Robert took the sofa opposite. For some while, he said nothing, though he never took his eyes off her. She had the peculiar impression that he was memorising every facet of her, from the tips of her pale blue kid half-boots to the crown of her head.

When Linney came to ask if she would like some tea, Robert's expression turned downright ferocious.

‘I have no wish to discuss the breakdown of my marriage over the teacups as though it was a mere formality!' he roared. ‘Make yourself scarce!'

Deborah clasped her hands in her lap, focusing on them through a film of tears as Linney beat a hasty retreat.

Funny, but though she had known he wanted an end to their marriage for days, accepted that it was for the best, because she hated him anyway, she really did ….

She sniffed, appalled to find the mist clearing as a single tear brimmed over and rolled down her cheek.

Angrily, she wiped it away with her gloved hand. She was not going to cry in front of him! He was not worth it! If he could toss her aside, and still hanker after Susannah …

To her shock, Robert got up and came to sit beside her. He pressed a handkerchief into her hand.

‘Please, do not cry, Deborah. You will be free of me soon, I swear.'

He got up then, and moved away abruptly. ‘Forgive me. I know you would not wish to have me anywhere near you.' He paused before the sideboard, pulling the stopper from one of the decanters and twirling it between his fingers, before turning to her with a grave expression on his face.

‘You must see that we have things to discuss, before you leave me for ever.'

Deborah put her hand to her temple, where a dull throbbing had begun. Was he talking nonsense, or was she in too much of a state to understand what he was saying?

‘I don't see,' she admitted, shaking her head in confusion. ‘What are you talking about, Robert? What things must we discuss?'

‘Have you not thought that you might be with child?' he blurted out, his face going so pale she thought he might pass out. Indeed, having said the words, he came back to the sofa opposite hers, and sat down rather heavily.

Deborah felt as though he had struck her. He had used her, lied to her, thrown her love back in her face and trampled it underfoot, and now he was turning white about the mouth at the prospect he might have accidentally impregnated her?

She had always borne whatever life had thrown at her with the grace she had been taught a lady should always display. On the very few occasions she had felt her self-control waver, she had walked away from the prospect of confrontation.

But now she felt something inside her snap. She surged to her feet, crossed the narrow space between the two sofas and slapped him hard across the face. Tears
were streaming unchecked down her face now, but she was past caring. She stood over him, breathing hard as she struggled to find words to tell him what she thought.

But there were none sufficiently strong to express the scope of her anger, or the depths of her anguish.

She watched as the marks of her fingers blossomed red across his pale features, a stunningly satisfying testament to her physical outburst. And she drew back her arm to hit him again.

This time, he caught her hand in mid-air, the crystal stopper flying from his fingers and shattering against the marble lip of the hearthstone.

So she raised her other hand, clenched it into a fist and flailed out at him wildly. He raised his injured left arm to ward off the blows she rained down on his face and shoulders. But all the while, he was twisting her other arm until he managed to bring her whole body down beside his on the sofa. She slithered across the leather seat in her effort to pull herself away, but he was too strong for her. Catching her round the waist with his left arm, he hauled her up against his chest, and somehow she found she was sitting on his lap, sobbing into his neck, while he held her tightly against his body, her arms clamped to her sides.

Eventually she stopped struggling, and just let the tempest of tears flood out. When the storm passed, she sagged into him, her eyes closed, waiting for his hold on her to slacken, for him to put her away from him.

But he just kept on holding her tightly, his own face pressed to the crown of her head.

Finally, though she kept her eyes closed, her face
pressed into his neck, she drew enough strength from some source deep within herself to say, in a voice that quivered with defiance, ‘If I am with child, I at least, shall love it. Even if you won't want to have anything to do with it, or with me ….'