A Duchess Enraged (28 page)

“Do whatever you
choose. I won’t be back.”

Louisa rose from the
floor and blocked his path, throwing herself into his arms with desperate
urgency.

“You can’t leave me,
Adam. You can’t. I love you. Mr. Brocklehurst came here and was begging me for
my favors. He swore that I had bewitched him and he must have me. When he began
to undress, I was so frightened, and it was only your arrival that stopped
him.”

“And so you asked him
to conceal himself?” asked Adam.

“I was afraid you
might think the worst. And you did! Adam, you must know that I would never be
untrue to you. I love you.”

Adam shook his head.
“I’m sorry, Louisa. You tricked me for a long time, but it couldn’t last
forever. It’s a pity that it has to end like this. If you had been truthful
with me from the beginning, things might have been different somehow. At least
we would have had some honesty between us. But you chose to play me for a fool,
and I can’t forgive or forget that. I’ll expect you to be out of this house by
the end of the month.”

He detached her hands
from his arm and walked away, shaking his head slightly as a string of
invective fell from Louisa’s lips. He had never heard her utter anything but
sweet syllables, and the thought of how thoroughly he had been deceived
depressed him. He had made a fine mess of matters and now it was time to try to
put it right.

In the sitting room,
Freddie watched Louisa with lively awe as she snatched a porcelain vase off the
mantelpiece and flung it down the hall after Adam’s retreating back.

“Damn it,” she said.
“I’ll see him and his bride in hell.”

“Um, I suppose you
don’t want to continue our...conversation,” said Freddie tentatively. Louisa’s
exertions had loosened her wrapper and he had a fine view of her breasts as
they rose exuberantly out of her corset.

“Get the hell out of
here,” shouted Louisa. Freddie fled, pulling on his breeches as he went.

On the Ride to
Gresham Park

Allegra looked
anxiously about, hoping that no one would recognize her. She felt foolish in
her sober travelling dress, a heavy veil draped over her hat and concealing her
face. The outfit was designed to hide her identity, but she couldn't help
thinking that it only attracted attention to her. She drew back into the shadow
of a building as a passing gentleman gave her a curious glance. She didn't know
him, but she had no wish for anyone to be a witness to her actions.

She put down the
small valise she carried and glanced nervously up the street again. Lord
Gresham had promised to meet her here at three-o-clock. She knew that she was
early, but she had hoped that he would be waiting for her. A woman alone,
standing on the street, was certain to draw attention.

With a sigh of
relief, she saw a carriage moving up the street towards her. It was driven by a
coachman she didn't recognize, but when she saw the panels on the side that
would identify the owner were obscured, she felt sure it was Gresham. Trust
him, she thought wryly, to know how to do this properly. He probably had plenty
of experience.

The carriage drew up
in front of her, and the door swung open. Lord Gresham emerged, and for a
moment Allegra's courage gave way. He was smiling at her in a reassuring
fashion, and he was as handsome and sophisticated as always, but the
circumstances gave him an almost sinister air. This was her last chance to back
out. After tonight, she would never be able to go back to her former life. She
lifted her chin and took the hand he offered her. Adam didn't want her, and
Lord Gresham did. It was as simple as that. She wouldn't stay in London to be
an object of pity and scorn.

"Good afternoon.
I hope you had no difficulty getting out of the house," said Tristan
calmly, as though this was no more than a chance meeting in the park.

"None at
all," murmured Allegra, grateful to have something to talk about. "I
simply told Merriwether that I had a headache and was going to take a nap. Then
I dressed and slipped down the back stairs."

Tristan picked up her
valise and took her hand, leading her to the carriage. He assisted her into its
dark interior and then paused. "Would you prefer to be alone? I could ride
with the coachman," he said.

Allegra swallowed.
She half-feared the intimacy that a carriage would provide, but being alone
with Gresham was something she would have to get used to. And his presence
would keep her from brooding over Adam.

"Please ride
with me," she said quickly. "I'd like the company."

"As you
wish." Tristan signaled to the coachman to drive on, and then climbed in,
settling himself gracefully on the bench across from Allegra. A small silence
fell.

Allegra looked around
the carriage. Although the curtains were drawn to keep out curious eyes, she
could see that it was luxuriously appointed and upholstered in gray velvet. She
turned back to see that he was watching her, his eyes on her face.

"This is a
beautiful carriage, my lord," she said softly. "It's very
comfortable."

"Thank you. Do
you think, since we are going to become even better acquainted, that you might
call me Tristan?"

Allegra swallowed. If
he was going to be her lover, it would probably be best to be on a first-name
basis. "Certainly...Tr…Tristan. And you, of course, must call me Allegra.
There's no longer any point in observing formalities, is there?"

"I would think
not." Tristan smiled slightly. "Did you leave Gravesmere a
note?"

Allegra shook her
head. "No. I tried, but I didn't know what to say. He'll be happy to have
me gone, and in scandalous enough circumstances that it should be easy to
obtain a divorce. I did leave a note for my mother-in-law, however. She's been
very kind to me, and deserves to be thanked."

"So Gravesmere
will know that you've gone. Do you think he'll pursue us?"

A bitter laugh rose
in her chest. "I doubt it. He's made no secret of his desire to be rid of
me. This should be the answer to his prayers."

"It's just as
well. It will make our trip that much more comfortable. I would hate to be
forced to ride at a breakneck speed to the nearest port and take ship
immediately for the Continent."

"Where are we
going?" asked Allegra tentatively. When she had decided this morning that
she must leave Adam, she hadn't given any thought to where she might end up.
Movement was what had seemed necessary at the time.

Tristan shrugged.
"That's the wonderful thing. We can go anywhere we choose. Paris, Vienna,
Rome. You'd love Italy. It's like heaven there. None of this grayness we have
in England."

"I'm sure it
is." Despite the thought of the sun-kissed Italian countryside, Allegra
felt her heart sink. Wandering around Europe with Tristan with no goal except
pleasure in mind seemed pointless. She wondered vaguely how long they would do
that, and then what she would do for the rest of her life.

"But tonight
we're going only as far as my country seat. It's a few hours outside of London,
and since we won't be pursued, it will be by far the most comfortable place to
break our journey. The house is old, and uninhabited, but I believe it has been
adequately cared for. There is a housekeeper, but we shall have plenty of
privacy." He smiled gently.

Allegra felt her
stomach clench at his comment. She would be alone with Tristan, except for a
few servants. The thought made her recall the enchanted days she had spent with
Adam at Gravesmere. That time seemed like some sort of cruel dream now, a
moment of happiness that was snatched away. That was all behind her, so she had
to concentrate on Tristan and what her future held.

"That sounds
lovely," she said.

"We'll be there
only a day or two, but it will give us time to plan where we will go next. Do
you prefer France or Italy, my dear? I have friends in both places. Perhaps we
should go to Paris first. I know a dressmaker there who makes the most amazing
gowns. You'll need a whole new wardrobe for your new life, after all."

Allegra stirred
restlessly. "I have some money, and of course I brought my jewels--not the
Gravesmere stones, of course, but those I got from my mother."

Tristan dismissed her
words with a wave. "It will be my pleasure to dress you, Allegra. You
don't need to worry about anything at all."

Allegra opened her
mouth to protest, but then closed it. She was going to be his mistress, after
all, and men paid for all of their lover's needs. It was no different, she told
herself, than Adam paying for Louisa Manning’s every whim. She had to become
used to the situation in which she found herself. After all, she had asked
Tristan to take her away with him, and promised that she would be obliging in
return.

"You've never
been to the Continent, I know. You'll find it much more open-minded than
England. No one will question our liaison or look at you suspiciously. You have
nothing to worry about, Allegra."

"Thank
you," she said miserably. Tears threatened to well up in her eyes. It
didn't seem fair that she should be forced into this, when she had done nothing
wrong. If she had it all to do over again, it would be different. This time she
wouldn't have fallen in love with Adam, and allow herself to be so hurt. She
blinked. There was no going back. But, just now, she couldn't face the future
either.

"I'm
exhausted," she said. "Would you mind if I slept a little?"

"Not at all.
Make yourself comfortable," answered Tristan. A satisfied smile hovered on
his lips as he watched her lay her head against the cushioned seat back.
"We have all the time in the world to talk about this."

A Bit Too Late

Adam bounded up the
steps to his house and burst through the front door. The footman gave him a
startled look, but he ignored it, leaping up the stairs two at a time.

"Allegra!"
he shouted, uncaring of who heard him. "Allegra, where are you?"

Silence greeted him,
and he pushed open the door to the sitting room. Allegra wasn't there, but
Emily was, sitting on the divan, a piece of white paper covered with a hasty
scrawl next to her. Adam took a closer look at her face and stepped into the
room, concerned.

"What's wrong,
Mother? Has something happened?"

Emily looked up, and
he could see that her eyes were filled with tears. "Well, you've finally
done it," she said. "She's gone."

Adam stared at her,
fear clutching at his stomach. "What do you mean? Who's gone?"

"Allegra, of
course. Who else would I mean? She seems to think it's what you wanted. What
did you do last night to drive her away?"

Adam flushed. The
memory of last night's irrational passion was still fresh, and it was hardly
something he was going to share with his mother. "Nothing. Nothing at all.
At least, nothing to make her leave. We've had innumerable fights, and she's
never left before."

"Well, this time
you seem to have convinced her that she was completely unwanted." Emily
dabbed at her nose with her handkerchief. "It isn't well-done of you,
Adam. You're my son, and I will always love you, but I'm not sure I can forgive
you for this." She thrust the note at him.

Adam took it from her
and turned towards the window, perusing it carefully. The handwriting was
shaky, and he thought he saw a smudge where a tear had fallen on the page.

Dear Mama,

I must thank you for
your kindness to me before I go. I truly appreciate all you and Caroline have
done to make me welcome in your family. After last night, however, I realize
that I will never be able to make Adam happy and that if I stay here longer, I
will only humiliate myself. I have therefore decided to go away with Lord
Gresham, who promises that he will care for me. Tell Adam that he should be able
to obtain a divorce quite easily under these circumstances. Once again, I thank
you for your consideration of me. I will always remember it.

Allegra

"Damn him,"
Adam ground out, crumbling the paper into a ball. "Damn him to hell."

Emily looked up,
surprised. "Who?"

"Gresham, of
course. He's convinced Allegra to run away with him, the devil. He'll pay for
this." Adam flung the letter into the grate.

Emily frowned.
"Gresham convinced her? Adam, you're so blind. You're the one who
convinced her she had to go away with another man."

"I never told
her to run off with that libertine!" protested Adam.

"You certainly
didn't encourage her to stay here," said Emily tartly. "You drove her
into his arms, with your attentions to Lady Manning. Don't tell me that you
didn't know what you were doing!"

"I thought she
was being unfaithful to me," protested Adam.

Emily snorted.
"Unfaithful! The girl hasn't a treacherous bone in her body, Adam. And now
she's in a great deal of trouble. She's run off with Gresham, who can't possibly
have good intentions. What do you mean to do about it?"

"I mean to bring
her back," snapped Adam.

Emily looked up
quickly. "I thought you wanted a divorce."

"So did I,"
said Adam crossly. "But I've discovered a few things that I need to
discuss with Allegra. I might...perhaps I was wrong."

Emily clapped her
hands and gave a little crow of laughter. "So you do love her after
all."

"I didn’t say
that," protested Adam. "I simply think I might have wronged
her."

"Nonsense. You
love her. I knew it when you returned from Gravesmere. It showed in your eyes
whenever you looked at her. And she loves you, too."

Adam glanced up, hope
flaring in his eyes. "Do you think she does?"

"I know
it," said Emily stoutly. "But you were both too proud to admit it.
And now your pride has led you to a pretty pass indeed. Where can she have
gone, Adam? One night with Gresham and her reputation will be in ruins."

"I know,"
said Adam grimly. "But they can't have been gone long. It won't be hard to
catch up with them."

"But how do you
know where they've gone?"

Adam shrugged.
"It's late in the day and Allegra doesn't seem to indicate that she
expects to be pursued. Gresham Park isn't too many hours outside of London.
I'll wager he's taken her there."

Emily hesitated.
"And if you're wrong? If they aren't there and she does spend a night with
Gresham?"

A cold, flat look
came into Adam's eyes. "I'll still bring her back. But Gresham won't be
returning. I'm taking my sword and my pistols."

He turned and was
gone, shouting for the servants.

Allegra looked up as
the carriage slowed and took a sudden turn. Since they had left town Tristan
had pulled the curtains in the carriage back, and she could see the sun was
setting behind a row of gnarled oak trees. Their silhouettes seemed foreboding,
and she suppressed a shudder. It was her imagination playing tricks on her. She
had chosen her path and she had to make the best of it. There was no point in
regretting it now.

"Awake, my
dear?" Tristan's voice was smooth and friendly.

Allegra nodded. In
truth she hadn't slept a wink. Instead she had been contemplating her future
and what she might make of it. There seemed little hope of doing anything but
being Tristan's companion during his sojourn in Europe. And what would happen
if he tired of her? The thought of being cast adrift somewhere far from home
was terrifying.

"We've arrived.
The house is just ahead. I admit it looks a trifle grim in this light, but in
the morning you'll see how lovely it is."

Allegra looked out
the window again as the carriage bowled up the drive to a huge structure built
of gray stone. It towered over them alarmingly, with great turrets and looming
walls rearing dramatically up against the darkening sky. She shivered.

"It was built
hundreds of years ago by a distant Norman ancestor," said Tristan
conversationally. "He was engaged in the baron's revolt, and felt it
necessary to construct some massive fortifications. Naturally, it's been added
onto over the years and we don't use the oldest parts of it. They're far too
uncomfortable. But the building does have its charms."

Allegra's eyes
widened as the forbidding stone castle slipped by and they turned into a
courtyard that was sheltered by a structure that was of more recent vintage.
Graceful stone arches curved over the doors and windows, and the building,
while looking neglected and unused, was far less terrifying.

Allegra swallowed as
visions of dungeons and dank walls dripping with water receded. Tristan
chuckled slightly as the carriage slowed to a halt and he opened the door.

"Welcome to our
new home, Your Grace," he said, climbing out and extending his hand to
her.

Allegra paused a
moment, fighting back the urge to demand that he return her to London. She
couldn't go back now. She was the one who had proposed this flight, and she had
nothing to return to anyway. By now her note had surely been discovered, and
Adam was probably rejoicing in her absence. To go back would be to admit
defeat.

She put her hand into
Tristan's and allowed him to help her out of the carriage. Tristan led her up
to the house, speaking soothingly as he did so.

"I realize this
is all very new to you, but in time it won't seem so strange. We'll move around
a great deal, and you'll become used to seeing new places and sleeping in
strange beds. The life of a social outcast is a great deal more adventurous
than the one you've known previously, but I'm convinced you'll come to enjoy
it."

"I'm sure I
will," murmured Allegra.

"That's the
spirit." Tristan led them up to the large carved oaken door. He eyed it
thoughtfully. "Sixteenth century," he observed. "Beautiful, but
hardly practical."

He raised a fist and
pounded on the door. Allegra could hear the sound echoing into the distance.
She felt her heart sink.

"Is no one
here?" she asked.

"Oh, someone's
bound to be about," said Tristan cheerfully. "I'm reasonably sure
I've been paying their wages." He pounded on the door again, and this time
they were rewarded with the sound of shuffling footsteps.

"I'm
coming," called a voice irritably.

After some time the door
was opened a crack and an elderly servant peered out, surveying them
suspiciously. "Oh, it's you, my lord," he said finally, pushing the
door open. It creaked noisily. "We weren't expecting you."

"No, I imagine
you weren't, Baxter. We made a rather sudden decision to come here. But since I
pay you to keep my house in order, I trust that we won't be putting you to too
much trouble if we stay a night or two?"

Tristan stepped
through the door, leading Allegra by the hand. She passed reluctantly over the
threshold and looked wide-eyed around the hall. A lofty ceiling soared over her
head, and the space stretched out expansively on either side, but she could see
very little of her surroundings, for the only light was provided by a single
candle held by Baxter.

"You're always
welcome in your own home, my lord," said Baxter in a tone that belied the
words. "I'll tell Mrs. Small to get the bedrooms ready and prepare some
dinner."

"Do that. And
light a fire in the sitting room and bring some more candles. It's like a tomb
in here." Tristan took the taper from Baxter and lit a branch of candles
that stood on a table. Light flared around him, and Allegra could see the fine
oaken paneling that covered the walls. It made her think unexpectedly of the
hallway at Gravesmere, and she felt another pang of regret. This trip into the
country was very different from her last.

"Very good, my
lord."

"Baxter, this is
the Duchess of Gravesmere. She'll be staying here with me. I expect you to
treat her every command as my own."

Baxter bowed stiffly
to Allegra, and she flinched at the touch of contempt in the servant's eyes.
Tristan had obviously brought other women here in the past and the old man had
a good idea of what was going on. "As you wish, my lord," he muttered
and shuffled off, but seemed to think that he needed to say more. "The
house would be in much better order if we were expecting you."

"I'm aware of
that. But now we must do our best to make my guest comfortable. Quickly
now."

Baxter bowed again
and moved on. Tristan snatched up the branch of candles and ushered Allegra
through a nearby door. A large sitting room spread out before them, the
furniture covered with ghostly white sheets. The heavy velvet curtains obscured
any remaining daylight, and there was a damp chill to the air. Allegra wrinkled
her nose.

"Ah well, we'll
make the best of it." Tristan pulled the sheet off a settee and placed the
candles on a long table. "Soon enough we'll have the fire lit and some
food in our stomachs. Things will look brighter then. Someday we'll laugh about
this first night together and it's horrors. I promise you the finest hotel room
in Paris when we get there."

"You don't need
to worry about me," said Allegra. "I'm fine." She sank down on
the settee as her knees felt unaccountably weak. This would be her first night
with Tristan. The first of many, she supposed. The idea seemed terribly unreal.
Only last night she had been with Adam, thrilling to his touch. Now that was
something that would never happen again.

Tristan moved about
the room, snatching the covers from the furniture. "I'm sure you are. It
takes an adventurous spirit to do what you've done. I'm glad you assured me
that you've thought carefully about this. Leaving your home and family for the
sometimes dubious joys of life as a social outcast is not something to be done
lightly. I don't suppose you'll miss your husband too much, but it must have
been a wrench to part with your brother and sister, as well as the dowager
duchess and Lady Eskmaine."

"I...I don't
want to discuss it," said Allegra quietly. She wished he would stop
dwelling on what she was leaving behind. The thought of her sister, Jemima, and
her often-expressed excitement at the prospect of being brought into Society by
her glamorous sister, made her conscience twinge. She knew that Jemima would be
judged by her sister's behavior and would be watched like a hawk to see if she
displayed any negative traits.

"Homesick, are
you?" Tristan sat down next to her. "We'll soon take care of that.
I'll keep you so busy that you won't have time to think of it." He took
her hand in his and tickled her palm seductively. Allegra jumped and tried to
move her hand, but Tristan's fingers tightened.

"If we're to be
lovers, you mustn't be shy, my dear. I've waited a long time to be alone with
you."