The Scarlet Gown. Sarah Mallory

it is imperative that your stay at Adversane is perfectly respectable if we are to convince everyone that the engagement is genuine. When the time comes to part I shall make sure it is understood that the decision was yours—you may be assured that those who know me will not find that at all surprising—and you will walk away with enough money to allow you to live in comfort and style for at least the next year. A handsome remuneration for less than two months’ work.’ He paused. ‘So, Miss Halbrook, what do you say?’

      * * *

      Preposterous. Outrageous. Not to be considered.

      These were the first words that came to Lucy’s mind, but she did not utter them. Her situation, living in her uncle’s house, was not comfortable. To spend six weeks as the guest of Lord Adversane, no doubt living very luxuriously, would not be a hardship, and with the money she earned she would not need to rush into another post for some time. In fact, she might even be able to invest the money—in a shop, say, or a little school—and provide herself with an income. She might even be able to travel. She forced her gaze away from those compelling grey eyes and addressed Mrs Killinghurst.

      ‘You can assure me there is nothing untoward in this?’

      ‘Nothing at all, Miss Halbrook. It is unusual, but you may be sure I looked into the matter thoroughly before I accepted Lord Adversane’s commission. After all, I have my own reputation and that of my business to consider.’ Mrs Killinghurst tapped the paper on the desk in front of her. ‘The contract is drawn up, which will make everything legally binding. All that is required is your signature.’

      Lucy hesitated. The offer was very tempting, and neither Mrs Killinghurst nor the advertisements she had scanned in the newspaper could offer anything else. And what choice did she have? Her uncle’s attentions were becoming more persistent and it could only be a matter of time before her aunt and her mother became aware of a situation which Lucy knew would distress them greatly.

      ‘Very well,’ she said. ‘I will do it.’

      * * *

      Ralph watched in silence as she came to the desk to sign the contract. A slight doubt shook him. Perhaps it would have been better to hire an actress to play the role he had envisaged, but the danger of being found out would be that much greater, and the matter was too important to take that risk. He would not put it past his family to investigate his supposed fiancée’s background.

      No, overall Mrs Killinghurst had succeeded very well. Miss Lucy Halbrook was everything he required and her breeding was impeccable, his family would find no fault there. She was not quite as tall as he had hoped, and her hair was not guinea-gold but a soft honey-brown. She also had rather more spirit than he had expected and he found himself wanting to tease her, to bring that sparkle to her eyes. He would have to be careful about that. He had been brought up to believe a gentleman should not flirt with a lady under his protection. However, he needed someone who could fulfil the role he had in mind convincingly, so she needed to be at least moderately attractive, and beneath that dowdy gown Miss Halbrook’s figure looked to be good. His eyes dwelled on the rounded bottom displayed beneath the grey folds as she bent over the desk to sign her name. It might even be very good.

      He quickly suppressed that line of thought. The woman was being hired for a specific purpose and that did not include dalliance, however enjoyable that might be. No, his reasons for taking her to Adversane were much more serious than that. Deadly serious.

      Chapter Two

      Lord Adversane insisted upon sending his luxurious carriage to carry Lucy to the north country. She had never travelled in such style, and as the elegant equipage bowled out of London she was forced to admit that there was something to be said for being betrothed to a rich man.

      Two weeks had passed since that second visit to Mrs Killinghurst’s registry office. Lucy had signed her contract and stepped back into New Bond Street with a thick roll of banknotes in her reticule, her new employer requesting her to buy whatever was necessary for her journey to Adversane. He had also given her the name of a very exclusive modiste and told her she might order anything she wished and have it charged to his account.

      Lucy had felt compelled to question this.

      ‘Forgive me, but if your wife is—that is, if you have been a widower for two years, will you still have an account?’

      ‘Oh, my wife never bought anything from Celeste.’

      Lucy had blushed hotly at the implication of his careless response, and had immediately given him back his card. He had grinned at that, giving Lucy the unsettling feeling that he was teasing her.

      ‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘There is a very good dressmaker near Adversane who will provide you with everything you need for the duration of your stay. I shall arrange for her to call on you once you are settled in.’

      Recalling the incident, she wondered again if she had been wise to accept employment with a stranger and in a house so far away from everyone and everything she knew. She had looked out her uncle’s copy of The New Peerage and learned that Ralph Adversane was the fifth baron, that he owned several properties, his principal seat being Adversane Hall, in Yorkshire. There was no mention of a wife, but she knew this edition of the Peerage was at least five years old, so presumably the marriage had taken place after that date.

      Discreet enquiries of her family had brought forth very little information. Her aunt, who was an avid reader of the Court and Society pages, admitted she had heard of Lord Adversane, but it appeared he was an infrequent visitor to London, or at least, thought Lucy, to those circles that warranted a mention in the newspapers, even if he was well known in less respectable circles, whose ladies patronised a certain expensive modiste. She must therefore trust to Mrs Killinghurst’s assurance that she made thorough enquiries into the veracity of every client who came to her.

      However, just as a precaution, Lucy had kept back some of the money Lord Adversane had given her and stitched it into the hem of her cloak. It was not a lot, but sufficient to pay for her journey back to London, and knowing that she had a means of escape should she need it, she now settled back against the comfortable squabs of the travelling carriage and prepared to enjoy herself.

      * * *

      Lord Adversane was waiting for her when she arrived at his country seat. He was dressed very much as she had last seen him, in blue coat and buckskins, and as the coach drew up on the sweeping drive he strode across to open the door and hand her down.

      ‘Welcome, Miss Halbrook. How was your journey?’

      ‘Extremely entertaining.’ Lucy gave a little gurgle of laughter at his look of surprise, her head still buzzing with the excitement of all the new sights and sounds she had experienced. ‘I have never before been farther north than Hertfordshire, you see, so it was an adventure. Of course, I doubt I would have enjoyed it so much if it had not been undertaken in a fast and comfortable vehicle, with your servants to take care of everything for me, and overnight stops arranged at the very best coaching inns. I am very grateful to you for your solicitude, my lord.’

      ‘I could do nothing less for my future wife.’

      Lucy blushed, but quickly realised that his words were for the benefit of the servants, as was the kiss he bestowed upon her fingers. After all, if this charade was to work then everyone must believe it.

      Collecting her thoughts, she stood for a moment looking up at the house. It was a very large building in the Jacobean style with stone transom and mullion windows set between diapered red brickwork. Her first impression was that it had a frowning aspect, but she put this down to the overcast day and the fact that they were standing on the drive and the house appeared to tower over them. Her eyes moved to the stone pediment above the entrance, which framed an intricately carved cartouche.

      ‘The Adversane coat of arms,’ he said, following her glance. ‘The house was built for the first Baron Adversane at the time of the Restoration.’

      Still buzzing with the excitement of the journey, Lucy could not resist giving voice to a mischievous thought.