Regency Society. Ann Lethbridge

Luke’s return the days seemed to fly past so quickly that Roxanne hardly had time to think or worry about what she was doing. The incident in the tower had been dismissed from her mind completely and she was thoroughly enjoying each day.

      Luke had purchased a beautiful mare for her. Rhoda, as he informed her the horse was named, was a chestnut and a perfect mount for her, being spirited and yet good natured, even playful. The mare had responded to Roxanne’s touch and voice immediately and, if Roxanne did not watch her, would give her new mistress a sharp nudge in the back with her nose.

      ‘She is lovely,’ Roxanne cried as she thanked him. ‘I am so grateful for your kindness.’

      ‘You must have a horse of your own. The saddle belonged to my mother. It takes time to make one to suit an individual and we shall commission a new one once you have got used to this, which has been worn in and should be comfortable both for you and the mare.’

      ‘It is perfect,’ Roxanne said and ran her hand over the soft leather, which, though not new, had a pleasant feel. ‘I do not think I need another just yet.’

      ‘My mother was an excellent horsewoman, Roxanne. I am certain you can do as well if you are willing to learn.’

      Roxanne assured him that she was and allowed him to help her into the saddle and to explain how she should hold her reins. Although she had been used to riding astride when with the players, she immediately settled to the new position and needed telling only once how to sit and hold her reins.

      Luke watched her walk the mare about the paddock, making only an occasional remark about posture or commands to the mare. After some minutes had passed, he nodded his head and walked up to her as she halted the mare.

      ‘Are you sure you have not ridden this way before?’

      ‘I may have done years ago…’

      ‘When you were a child in India?’

      ‘If I was ever there. Sometimes in my mind I seem to see a beautiful pink palace with cool rooms and fountains in the gardens—but it may just be one of Sofia’s stories.’

      ‘Are there people in your dream?’

      She shook her head. ‘No, I have no real memories, Luke. I think the palace was where Sofia lived with her prince.’

      ‘You are sure she never mentioned anything you told her when you were ill?’

      ‘No, I am not sure of anything.’

      Luke’s eyes were very intent. ‘You have not been lying to me, Roxanne? I would rather hear the truth from your lips now than discover it is all lies later.’

      ‘Are you accusing me of trying to deceive you?’ She raised her head proudly. ‘Why should I do such a thing? I have no wish to be other than I am.’

      ‘Forgive me, that remark was uncalled for. It is just odd that you should have this feeling about India—and now it seems as if there may be a connection. Does that not sound strange to you? In my place would you not wonder?’

      ‘Yes, perhaps,’ she agreed. ‘May we speak of something else now? Your grandfather spoke of dancing lessons, but it may have slipped his memory. The curate is coming this afternoon. If he played for us, would you teach me some steps, please?’

      ‘Yes, of course. I should be delighted. I will call the groom. You have done enough riding for today. You should learn at least one or two dances before the ball.’

      ‘Count in your head, Roxanne…one two three, one two three—and follow me. Trust me and you cannot fail.’

      ‘Thank you, I shall try.’

      Roxanne stood as he placed his right hand at the small of her back and let herself relax, feeling the warmth that flowed through her. The curate’s playing was pleasant and she felt as if she floated on air as they waltzed the length of the gallery, where the ball was to be held.

      ‘Yes, that is exactly right,’ Luke told her. ‘You were born to dance, Roxanne. It is a natural talent that may be learned, but you feel the music and you are like thistledown in my arms.’

      Roxanne closed her eyes. In her head she seemed to hear strange music and for a moment she felt light-headed, as if she were not quite herself. Luke’s voice came from a distance. The dreamlike state still held her and she stumbled, falling into his arms.

      Luke caught her and carried her to a sofa, sitting her against the soft cushions as she stirred. She opened her eyes, looking at him in a puzzled way.

      ‘What happened?’

      ‘You were faint for a moment. Are you ill?’

      ‘No, I do not think so. How foolish of me.’

      Luke placed a hand to her forehead. ‘You do not seem to have a temperature, but you said something just before your faint.’

      ‘Did I?’ She looked up, feeling bewildered. ‘For a moment I thought I was somewhere else.’

      ‘You said a word I did not recognise. I think it may have been another language—perhaps Hindu or some such thing.’

      ‘How could I know an Indian word?’

      ‘Easily, if you were truly brought up there.’ He frowned. ‘This business of the ruby has been playing on your mind. It might be that the face you saw at the window was Indian. A turban cloth was found at the tower when the search was made.’

      Roxanne shivered. ‘That is a little worrying, Luke. What is so important about the ruby that someone would follow us here and attempt to break into your grandfather’s strong room?’

      ‘If we knew that, I think the mystery might be solved.’ Luke offered her his hand as she attempted to rise, catapulting her into his arms. It surprised them both and Luke’s kiss was completely without intention. He kissed her lightly at first, but it deepened to intensity before he let her go. ‘It was the look in your eyes,’ he excused himself. ‘There is no need to fear, Roxanne. I shall protect you.’

      ‘Yes…’ Roxanne spoke in a faint voice unlike herself. ‘I am not afraid, just curious as to why the ruby is so important.’

      ‘Yes, it is curious,’ Luke replied. ‘I think enough dancing for today. We shall send for some tea—and I think our kind pianist should stay and enjoy it with us.’

      ‘Yes, of course, Luke,’ Roxanne said and went off to speak to the curate.

      Luke’s eyes narrowed as he watched her. She looked every inch a lady—but supposing she had lied in an attempt to ensnare him? Supposing she’d stolen the ruby? She might be Black Bob’s accomplice; they could have stolen it together. Perhaps she’d wanted the jewel for herself and run off with it. That might be the reason she was frightened of being found and dragged back to her former life. He knew a moment of intense pain at the thought. If she had played him for a fool, he would feel betrayed.

      Luke was aware of a sense of unease. He knew that he was being drawn into something beyond his control. What exactly did Roxanne want of him? She had refused to enter a sham marriage at first, but now she seemed prepared to become his wife and to give him an heir.

      Could he trust her? More importantly, perhaps, could he trust himself? The feelings he’d had for Roxanne from the beginning had grown stronger, but surely a night in her bed would satisfy his hunger. It had always been that the chase was more important to him and he soon tired once the game was won. Perhaps he was a shallow fellow, incapable of feeling more than a fleeting affection—if that were so, why was he beginning to feel obsessed by Roxanne and a need to know the truth about her past?

      He was a fool to let down his guard. Until he was certain this was not all an elaborate plot to ensnare him he refused to feel more than liking for her. He had met many beautiful women, but none had touched his heart—why should it be different now?

      Roxanne glanced at herself in the mirror as she prepared for dinner