The Disappearing Duchess (13 page)

A smile of amusement touched his mouth as he saw her.

‘Determined to prove me wrong, my love?’

Lucinda laughed joyously. When he looked at her that way her heart raced and she remembered why she’d fallen in love with him. It was not his fortune or his title that had persuaded her to marry him, but the teasing smile that turned her knees to water.

‘No, of course not. I did not wish to keep you waiting longer than necessary, Justin.’

‘I should have waited had it taken you longer,’ he said, his eyes moving over her with approval. ‘I do not
think I have seen you wear that habit before, Lucinda. It suits you well.’

‘It is the first time I’ve worn it. This is the first time we have ridden out since we were married.’

‘Yes, it is,’ he agreed. ‘Let me give you a hand up, my love.’

Lucinda nodded, accepting his assistance. She was soon seated and ready for their outing, watching as he mounted without assistance from the groom. Justin gave a little nod and the groom stood back from Lucinda’s horse. A lad had exercised the mare, but this was the first time her mistress had mounted her for weeks and she was a little skittish, shying and dancing as they moved down the drive. However, once they reached the first expanse of open grass, Lucinda gave her her head and they were soon racing through the parkland. Justin’s horse sprinted ahead at first, but after letting it race for a short time, he brought it back to her and they rode side by side.

Lucinda glanced at her husband, laughing as she felt the breeze in her face and smelled the freshness of the early summer morning. They seemed to have entered a warmer phase of the season and it was uplifting to see the hedges bright with wild roses. Above their heads the sky was a cloudless blue and somewhere a meadowlark was trilling its sweet song.

For a while they let the horses run, then, as they came through the park to a stream beyond which lay
the church and a few scattered cottages, they slowed to a walk.

‘Shall we tether the horses and walk by the river for a few minutes?’

‘Yes, that would be pleasant,’ Lucinda said. ‘The water looks so still and brown. I think they will soon be cutting the reeds.’

‘Yes, I dare say they will,’ Justin said. He had dismounted and now he came to assist her. He took the reins and tied them loosely to a bush, then offered his hand to Lucinda. She took it and they began to stroll along the bank in the direction of an old oak tree. ‘In spring the year seems to stretch ahead with so much promise, but the summer goes too quickly. I think perhaps in the autumn we shall visit Paris, Lucinda.’

‘Yes, of course, if you wish it.’

She wondered what she would do with Angela when the time came to visit Paris and perhaps London. Justin would expect her to visit friends and to enjoy a busy social life. Had Angela been their daughter she would probably have remained at the estate in the care of a nanny and various maids. As she grew up she would have had a governess and a music tutor and then, in time, perhaps been sent to a finishing school.

‘I wish to please you, Lucinda. What would you like to do?’

‘I am very happy here, but…Yes, I should like to visit Paris and perhaps London in the spring—or Bath.’

‘Are you happy?’ Justin turned to look at her, his
eyes searching her face. ‘I know I was unkind to you for a while—but you have forgiven me?’

‘Yes, of course. Have you forgiven me, Justin?’

‘Yes, I think so,’ he replied honestly. ‘I was angry, hurt and it has taken a while to heal my foolish pride, but I think I have managed it. I truly wish to make you happy, my dearest Lucinda. I want us to have a good life together.’

‘I am sure we shall. If we can begin again…’

His hand reached out to her, his fingers trailing the arch of her soft cheek to her mouth. He traced the fullness of her bottom lip with his forefinger, then bent and kissed her softly on the mouth.

‘There is no reason why we should not begin again, is there?’

Lucinda felt her cheeks getting warm. When he looked at her like that she felt so guilty. He was being very generous to her and she had deceived him dreadfully. She would have to find the courage to tell him the truth about her daughter.

‘Justin…’ She hesitated as he looked at her intently, her heart racing. He was so handsome and she longed to throw herself into his arms and confess everything. If only she dared—if only he would understand and forgive her. For a moment the words hovered on her lips, but as his right eyebrow arched she lost her courage. He would feel disappointed in her again and the barriers had just begun to come down; a confession now would ruin everything and she so much wanted to see that
look of teasing approval in his eyes. She wanted him to love her. ‘I am hungry. Shall we return to the house and have our breakfast?’

He laughed and reached for her hand, lifting it to his lips to kiss the palm. ‘For a moment I thought you wished to say something profound or important.’

‘Being hungry is important,’ she replied and smiled naughtily to cover her confusion. Sometimes, when she saw the man she loved, she was overcome with distress. She wished that she had told him the truth long ago. If she’d been honest with him before she accepted his proposal, none of this need have come between them. ‘Do you not agree?’

‘It depends on what you are hungry for,’ he said and the look in his eyes made her knees feel weak. He looked at her as if he would devour her, as if he wanted her, desired her passionately—and yet he left her to sleep alone. Why? If he wanted her, why did he not claim her?

It was on the tip of her tongue to ask, but they had reached the horses. Justin helped her to mount, the touch of his hand sending shivers of anticipation down her spine. She gazed into his eyes, wishing that he would kiss her, but he did not, simply tossing her up into the saddle.

Perhaps he knew that she had deceived him. No, he could not or he would be angry. He did not love her, but he had decided to make the best of their marriage. She blinked hard. She had hoped that Justin would come to
love her when she was truly his wife, but now she was not sure that it would ever happen.

Keeping her face averted as she urged her horse to a gentle canter, Lucinda held the tears at bay.

Why could Justin not take her in his arms and tell her that he loved her? He claimed he had forgiven her, but something was keeping them apart.

* * *

Justin followed his wife at a slower pace. He had been so tempted to make love to her by the river. For a moment as she looked at him, he had felt she wanted him to kiss and touch her, but then she’d spoken of wanting her breakfast. He’d felt the sting of disappointment once more. Lucinda seemed to encourage and invite, but if he carried her to his bed she would not respond.

What a coil it was! At times he would swear that there was fire beneath the surface, that Lucinda was a loving passionate woman—but she had lain passively while he loved her, showing little emotion, though her body had responded in the end. When they kissed she clung to him, moved her fingers in his hair and moaned with longing—but when he loved her she gave nothing.

Lucinda’s beauty tantalised and drew him, her smiles set him on fire, but there was always a moment of reserve, a moment when she drew back. What could he do to erase the horror of rape from her mind?

It was in his mind to have it out with her when they reached the house, but then, as they rode into the courtyard, he saw a gentleman dismounting. Lord Lanchester
had come calling at an early hour. Justin swore beneath his breath. At any other time he might have been delighted to see his friend and would undoubtedly have asked him to join them for breakfast, but it was deuced inconvenient that morning.

‘Andrew,’ he said as he dismounted and a groom led the horses away. ‘How are you? I trust Jane is well?’

‘Blooming as always,’ Andrew replied. ‘She asked me to ride over and invite you both to sup with us this evening. We have some delicious strawberries—and I think fresh salmon and venison are on the menu this evening. Knowing your passion for strawberries, Jane thought you might enjoy her strawberry shortbread, Lucinda.’

‘Yes, I think we should love to come,’ Lucinda said. ‘Our guests have gone and we should otherwise have dined alone.’

‘Then I shall give her the good news,’ Andrew said and offered her his arm as they entered the house. He glanced back at Justin. ‘There is a small matter of business—if you can spare me the time?’

‘Yes, of course, after breakfast. You will join us, of course?’

‘I ate earlier, but I will take some coffee with you.’

‘Of course,’ Justin said politely. He watched as his friend said something to Lucinda and heard her laughter ring out. She was comfortable with Lanchester, able to be herself—but with her husband she had that slight reserve, which placed a barrier between them. Jealousy
curled through him like a viper’s tongue, injecting poison where it touched.

Why was Lucinda so at ease with her friend? What had Justin done that made her wary of him?

His gaze narrowed as he watched them laughing and talking. It was odd that she had not planned to walk out this morning. Had she known that Andrew was coming here?

The thought was insidious and unworthy, but he could not quite dismiss the suspicion. Always the same question haunted him. Yet he knew even as the thoughts chased through his mind that he wronged her. Her sweet innocence could not be false and he would be a rogue to think ill of her.

Lucinda had turned her head to look at him, her eyes bright with laughter. ‘Andrew says we should invite our friends here to pick strawberries next week, Justin. He says it is a custom with you to share your crop—is that so?’

‘Some years we have far more than we need. If the crop is heavy, we sometimes have a picnic and let people pick the fruit. We use a different variety for jams and puddings, but the large berries for eating do not keep long and it is a shame to waste them.’

‘Then we should do it this year. I asked the gardener yesterday and he said there is a fine crop, but most are not ready for another week. How did you get yours so early, Andrew?’

Her attention had returned to her companion. Justin
felt the anger build inside him, but he controlled it with an iron will. It was foolish to be jealous just because she had a friend. He would not have expected to feel such deep jealousy, but then, his marriage was not as he’d expected, either. What had once been warm affection and liking for Lucinda had become something more—a stronger emotion that he hardly recognised.

* * *

After breakfast Lucinda left the men to their business and went up to her room. Alice did not answer when she rang her bell, so she struggled out of her riding habit alone and dressed in one of her simpler gowns that fastened at the front.

She tidied her hair, checked her appearance in the mirror and then left her room. Before she went downstairs, she would spend a little time with Angela. She was about to make her way to the attics when she remembered what Alice had asked her earlier. She had not actually given her permission for the child to use the nursery, but she hadn’t denied it, either. Deciding to look in at the nursery before trying the attic, she turned towards the staircase of the east wing. It was here that young members of the family were housed when they stayed and where the governess and tutors would live when Lucinda gave Justin children—if that ever happened.

Lucinda sighed, because unless Justin made love to her regularly, it was unlikely they would have the large family she craved. As an only child she had been lonely sometimes and promised herself that one day she would
have at least four children. She had one of the four, but she could not look far into the future, because the cloud of her deceit was ever present. If Justin discovered that she had lied to him, he might send her away in disgrace.

She would hate to leave him now. For a little time that morning as they rode and walked together she had felt closer to him than since before her wedding.

As she approached the nursery she heard the sound of laughter. Alice had taken her reticence for approval and brought the child here to play. She opened the door and saw her daughter on the back of a beautiful wooden rocking horse. It was painted white with black spots and had a silky mane and tail and dark eyes. Angela was shrieking with delight as Alice rocked her harder.

Lucinda stood watching for a few minutes. She had not seen her daughter as relaxed and happy as she was at this moment and her heart wrenched with pity and love for the child. Angela had known pain and deprivation for the whole of her young life. It was hardly surprising that she had cried for her mother so much at the start, but now, here with Alice, she had become a different child.

This was as it should be, Lucinda thought. If Alice continued to make Angela so happy, it might be best if Lucinda found another maid to wait on her some of the time. She could take the other girl with her when she went to Paris or London and Alice could remain here to care for her daughter.

In a way that was unfair, because Alice had been
very good to her and to Angela, and she deserved the pleasure of a trip to Paris. However, she might prefer to take charge of the nursery and Lucinda would bring her presents to make up for any disappointment.

Angela had seen her. She waved to her mother, but instead of scrambling down and running to her as she had been used to do, she continued to ride the horse for a time.

Alice came to her, looking slightly anxious. ‘I will take her back to the attic after she’s had her nuncheon, my lady. You do not mind that I brought her here?’

‘No. I can see that you understand her, Alice. I was wondering if I should select another girl to look after my clothes and help me dress when you are looking after her. Would you feel cheated or that I had demoted you?’

‘I should be proud to look after the child,’ Alice said. ‘My sister Marie is just sixteen, my lady. She has been helping Ma for the past year, but we were looking for her to enter service. She is a good gentle girl. If you agreed, we could share the task of looking after the child and take it in turns to serve you.’