The Regency Season: Blackmailed Brides: The Scarlet Gown / Lady Beneath the Veil. Sarah Mallory

what, my lord?’

      ‘Will you not at least be open with me?’

      The injustice of his words made her swell with indignation.

      ‘It seems to me, my lord, that it is you who will not be open with me! You bring me here, make me masquerade as your wife yet you will not tell me why. I abhor these secrets, sir!’

      She glared up at him, trying to see his face, but the darkness was too deep. She could see only his outline and the gleam of his rain-soaked hair. Then she could not even see that, for he swooped down, enveloping her in darkness as his lips met hers. The shock of it was like a lightning bolt. Her limbs trembled and she leaned against him, clutching at his wet coat as she reeled under the shocking pleasure of his kiss.

      But only for a moment. Then she was fighting, some unreasonable panic telling her that she must get away from him or risk destruction. He raised his head, but he was still holding her arms and she began to struggle.

      ‘Let me go!’

      ‘Lucy, I beg your pardon. I should never—’

      Anger swelled within her as she tried to shake off his hold. He was her employer; he owed her his protection, yet he was betraying her trust—just as her uncle had done—by attempting to ravish her as soon as she was under his roof. And had her father not betrayed her, also, by keeping his gambling a secret instead of sharing it with her, allowing her to help him?

      Her sense of injustice grew. She tried again to break free but he held her firm, and she said furiously, ‘Do you think to impose your will upon me by this ruthless seduction?’

      His hands fell from her shoulders and she took the opportunity to turn and flee to the safety of her room, where she relieved her anger and distress in a hearty bout of tears.

      * * *

      The rain had gone by the morning and the sun was shining in a clear sky, but the prospect did little to raise Lucy’s spirits. She had not slept well; the night had brought counsel and she knew what she must do. Quietly, she rose from her bed, heavy-eyed and depressed. It was still early and she could hear Ruthie snoring noisily in the dressing room, so she went to the linen press and brought out the grey wool robe she had worn for her interviews with Mrs Killinghurst. She needed no maid to help her into it, and she could dress her own hair, too, catching her curls back from her face with a black ribbon. A glance in her glass confirmed her sober, even severe appearance. Squaring her shoulders, she quietly left her room.

      * * *

      She found Lord Adversane in the Great Hall.

      ‘Good morning, my lord. I wonder if you could spare me a few moments, alone?’

      When he turned to face her she thought he looked a little haggard, and there were dark shadows under his eyes, as if he, too, had not slept well. His searching gaze swept over her but with a silent nod he led the way to his study.

      He closed the door and invited her to sit down.

      ‘Thank you, my lord, I would rather stand.’

      He walked over to the large mahogany desk and turned to face her, leaning on its edge and folding his arms across his chest.

      ‘That, and your funereal garb, tells me this is important.’

      ‘Yes. I am resigning my position here.’

      ‘Indeed?’ One word, uttered quietly. No emotion, no surprise. Lucy found it difficult to keep still while he subjected her to a long, long look. ‘Is that because of my behaviour yesterday?’

      ‘In part, yes.’

      ‘For which I have apologised, and I will beg your pardon again, here and now. My behaviour was unforgivable and I give you my word it shall not happen again. Will you believe that?’

      Her eyes slid to the floor.

      ‘It makes no difference.’

      ‘You still wish to leave Adversane.’

      ‘Yes. Today.’

      He pushed himself upright.

      ‘Strange. I had not thought you the sort to give up at the first hurdle.’

      ‘I am not giving up,’ she replied indignantly. ‘I do not believe I am the right person for this post.’

      ‘Adam Cottingham found no fault with you.’

      ‘He saw me for only a few hours. In a longer period he would realise that it was a sham.’

      ‘And why should he do that?’

      ‘Because our characters are not suited.’

      ‘I fail to see that it matters.’

      She looked at him rather helplessly.

      ‘How are we going to convince everyone that we are betrothed?’

      He was looking at her, something she could not read in his eyes.

      ‘It is like marriage, madam. We shall have to work at it.’

      ‘My lord, I cannot pretend to be your fiancée.’

      ‘May I ask why not?’

      She blushed. ‘I do not feel for you any of the...the warmer feelings that are necessary to make everyone believe that I—that we—’

      ‘Really? That was not the impression I had last night. I thought your feelings for me were very warm indeed.’

      ‘They are, sir,’ she retorted, goaded. ‘I dislike you, intensely!’

      ‘That is not important. As long as we are polite to one another people will assume it is a marriage of convenience. You are here to meet my neighbours and relatives, your chaperone has been taken ill at the last moment and Ariadne has kindly stepped in. Come, Miss Halbrook, is it so very onerous a task? I thought we were agreed the settlement I am prepared to make will more than make up for any gossip that may arise when you jilt me.’

      ‘The gossip does not worry me but being caught out in this charade does. I should find it very difficult to hide my true feelings.’ Lucy raised her head, determined to be brutally honest. ‘I find you rude and overbearing, my lord. In fact I find you totally abhorrent!’

      Her declaration did not appear to disconcert him in the least.

      ‘Then you will just have to act a little, Miss Halbrook.’ He laughed at her stunned silence and stepped towards her, reaching for her hand. ‘You have spirit, Lucy Halbrook. I like that, although sometimes I find it hard to accept your home truths about my character. My temper is cross, as you know to your cost, but I have apologised, and I will try to curb it for the next few weeks. You have my word on that, if you will but reconsider.’

      His thumb caressed the inside of her wrist, causing an extraordinary reaction. Her pulse was jumping erratically, his touch awakening an inexplicable longing from somewhere deep inside her. She was aware of a pleasant languor spreading through her body and it was difficult to think clearly. However, she had to try.

      ‘It is not just your temper, sir. You took advantage of me.’ The memory of it sent the hot blood pounding through her body again, enhanced this time by the continued assault upon her wits caused by the light-as-a-feather touch of his circling thumb.

      ‘A kiss,’ he said shortly. ‘A brief sensory exploration, brought on because our senses were heightened by the ongoing disagreement. It could happen to any two people caught in those circumstances. We have my cousin here as your chaperone and as long as we are civil to one another it will not occur again.’

      It all sounded so reasonable, thought Lucy, yet they were being civil now, and her senses were still heightened. He was standing very close, surrounding her with his strong masculine presence. His broad-shouldered torso blocked out the light, the grey riding coat reminding her of the shadowed cliff-like face of Druids Rock. He smelled of soap and clean linen. She could almost taste the faint hint of citrus