Lady Beneath the Veil (16 page)

‘Wasn’t Cecil clever, to get us such an advantageous box?’ declared Gwen, when they took their seats. ‘No, truly,’ she continued, when Mr Hatfield modestly demurred. ‘I had thought there was no possibility of finding a ticket for this performance. I am sure we are all very grateful.’

Dominique agreed. They had dined at Grosvenor Square with Gwen and Lord and Lady Grayson and she had been a little apprehensive when Cecil Hatfield arrived, but since Gideon was perfectly polite to him she had soon relaxed. Their box commanded a good view of the stage and while they waited for the performance to begin she gazed around the auditorium, watching with interest as the audience poured in. Fashionable gentlemen and painted ladies jostled with apprentices in the pit, shadowy figures moved around in the upper gallery and the boxes were filling up, the lamplight sparkling and flashing off the jewels displayed by the ladies who were taking their seats. Max was standing at the front of a box opposite, but she ignored his exaggerated bow and took care not to look his way again, determined not to allow him to spoil her enjoyment of the evening.

The lights dimmed ready for the short farce that preceded the main event and Dominique gave herself up to the performance, applauding with enthusiasm when it ended. Lord Grayson took his wife off to spend the interval strolling in the foyer and Gideon slipped into the empty seat beside Dominique.

‘Well, what do you think?’

‘Oh, Gideon I am enjoying myself immensely,’ she told him, reaching impulsively for his hand.

Gwendoline laughed. ‘Then you have obviously been starved of entertainment, my dear! That was quite the poorest play I have seen in seasons. I am sure I have heard most of it a hundred times before.’ She put her hand on Mr Hatfield’s sleeve. ‘What thought you, Cecil?’

‘I, madam? Why, I saw very little of the farce, my attention was upon something quite different.’

He leaned closer to Gwen, laughing down at her in an intimate fashion that made Dominique uncomfortable. Her eyes quickly went to Gideon and she saw him frown.

He rose from his seat, saying curtly, ‘Hatfield, perhaps you and I should—’

Whatever Gideon was going to suggest she would never know, for at that moment the door of the box opened and the tall, lean figure of Lord Ribblestone appeared.

‘Good evening. I hope I am not de trop?’

* * *

The way Gwen and Mr Hatfield jumped apart reminded Dominique forcibly of the farce she had just seen, but she did not find it in the least amusing.

‘Anthony!’ Gwen began to fan herself nervously. ‘I—I did not expect—that is...’

‘I left a message that I should conclude my business in time to escort you here, did I not, my love? I would you had waited for me.’

As Lord Ribblestone came further into the box, Mr Hatfield edged himself to the door and, muttering something about seeing an acquaintance in the pit, he disappeared. Recovering her composure, Gwen tossed her head.

‘You are so notoriously unreliable, Anthony, I did not want to risk our being late and missing the farce. It is Dominique’s first visit to the theatre, you see.’

‘Ah, of course. Now I understand.’ Lord Ribblestone smiled at Dominique, who fidgeted uncomfortably.

She was aware of the tension between Anthony and his wife and was relieved to feel Gideon’s hand on her shoulder.

‘My love, no visit to the theatre is complete without promenading through the foyer. It will be a crush, but it is something you should do, at least once.’

Gratefully she accompanied Gideon from the box.

‘We are best out of the way,’ he told her as he shut the door behind them. ‘They can talk more freely if they are alone.’

‘I do hope they will not fight.’

‘I wish they would,’ muttered Gideon as he led her away. ‘Tony is far too complacent for my liking. He could put an end to Gwen’s little flirtations, if he would.’

Dominique frowned.

‘Perhaps he does not care for her.’

‘Of course he does,’ replied Gideon. ‘He is as mad as fire, did you not see it?’

‘I felt it,’ she affirmed. ‘But I thought I might be mistaken. And—and does Gwen care for him?’

‘Aye. Why else would she set up all these flirts?’

‘Perhaps she is lonely. After all, Lord Ribblestone is always busy with his politics.’

‘Well, she needs to tell him. A little plain speaking would sort the matter out.’

Dominique was silent. She knew only too well how difficult it was to speak plainly about intimate matters with a man who hid himself behind a wall of politeness.

* * *

As Gideon had predicted, the foyer was crowded and with her diminutive height Dominique found the experience suffocating. It was almost impossible to see beyond the bodies immediately around her and she was about to ask Gideon to take her back when she saw Lord Martlesham’s fair head approaching. Her grip on Gideon’s arm tightened.

‘It is my cousin. Must we meet him?’

But Gideon did not reply. He was staring at the dazzling beauty on Max’s arm.

‘Good evening, Cousin.’ The earl bowed, smiling. ‘You know Mrs Bennet, of course, Albury. Mrs Agnes Bennet?’

Chapter Fifteen

I
f Dominique had not been holding on to Gideon’s arm she would have collapsed, for her knees suddenly felt very weak. She was at last face-to-face with the woman Gideon had expected to marry.

In those months leading up to the wedding Dominique had avoided the woman pretending to be Max’s cousin, but now there was no escape and she forced herself to acknowledge every detail of the beauty who had stolen Gideon’s heart. Agnes Bennet was tall, full-figured and as fair as Dominique was dark. Her golden curls clustered around her head and the whiteness of those smooth bare shoulders made Dominique very aware of the olive tint to her own skin. She hoped her face did not give her away, for Max was watching her carefully.

‘Ah, I was forgetting,’ he said smoothly, ‘you did not meet Mrs Bennet, did you, Cousin?’

The actress laughed, a dark, smoky sound that Dominique thought was sinfully seductive.

‘Of course I’m not really
Mrs
Bennet, as Mr Albury knows.’ Her blue eyes were fixed upon Gideon. ‘That is merely a convention for the stage—I am not married.’

Beneath the sleeve, Gideon’s arm was hard as steel.

‘I believe it is time we returned to our seats.’ His voice was icy, and with barely a nod towards the earl he turned and walked away, Dominique almost running to keep up with him.

* * *

Damn Max, trying to stir up trouble!

Gideon fought to control his anger as he pushed his way back through the crowd. He should have expected something of the sort. He had spotted Max in the box on the far side of the auditorium, but in the dim light he had not recognised his companions.

‘Gideon, please!’

Dominique’s urgent entreaty pierced the red mist that enveloped him and he slowed.

‘I beg your pardon.’ She was looking up at him, her eyes dark with apprehension, and he muttered through clenched teeth, ‘How dare he try to introduce that woman to you!’

‘Max likes to make mischief. We should ignore him.’

‘You are right, of course.’ Gideon struggled for composure. ‘Come, let us go back to the box. I hope Ribblestone has not murdered Gwen, or Hatfield...or both!’

She rewarded his attempt at levity with a strained smile. When they reached their box Hatfield was standing outside the door.

‘Ah, glad you are back, Albury. Didn’t like to go in on my own, don’t you know.’ He grimaced. ‘Dashed awkward, Ribblestone turning up like that.’

Gideon raised his brows.

‘Why should that be?’ He added, with barely disguised menace, ‘Unless you were intent upon some impropriety with my sister—’

‘Oh, no, no, nothing like that. I am at Lady Ribblestone’s service, of course. Pleasure to be her escort, but nothing more than that, I assure you!’

‘Well don’t act so damned guilty, then.’ Gideon opened the door and stood back to let Dominique enter before him. He waved Hatfield in, but as the man passed he caught his arm.

‘Just how did you secure this box at such short notice?’

Hatfield was watching Lord Ribblestone, trying to discern his mood, and he answered distractedly, ‘Martlesham gave it to me. Said he had booked it months ago, but that now he was engaged to join another party.’

So Max had planned this. Gideon felt the slow burn of his anger as he took his seat for the main performance. From his seat he could see only Dominique’s profile, but when Lady Grayson leaned to whisper something in her ear, the smile she gave in return was forced. The incident in the foyer was not forgotten.

* * *

The performance ended, but although Dominique applauded heartily she could not recall a single scene. Lord Grayson went off to his club and Lady Grayson, oblivious of the tensions in the box, reminded Gwen that they had planned to go on to the rout at Baverstock House.

‘We shall be there in time for supper, is that not what you said, Mr Hatfield?’ Lady Grayson fixed the gentleman with an enquiring gaze and he floundered hopelessly, unwilling to commit himself.

Lord Ribblestone took out his snuffbox.

‘I have ordered the carriage to be waiting and I intend to return to Grosvenor Square.’ He looked towards his wife. ‘Will you come with me, madam?’

Dominique held her breath, willing Gwendoline to go home with her husband.

‘But I am pledged to go to the rout,’ said Gwen, tossing her head.

For a long moment no one stirred. The atmosphere was brittle as glass. Lord Ribblestone put away his snuffbox and Dominique thought she saw the veriest tightening of his mouth.

‘As you will, my dear.’

He departed and Mr Hatfield gave an audible sigh of relief. Gwen did not look very happy with her victory and impulsively Dominique touched her arm.

‘Let Gideon run after Anthony and tell him that you have changed your mind.’

‘But I have not,’ protested Gwendoline, shaking off her hand. ‘La, that I should forgo a party of pleasure to sit at home! If you are ready, Lady Grayson, Mr Hatfield, let us be off to the rout.’

* * *

‘Shall we go home, my dear?’

Gideon placed her cloak about her shoulders and Dominique immediately forgot Gwen’s troubles as his hands lingered for a moment, their warmth seeping through the silk and into her skin. The meeting with Max and Agnes Bennet had dominated her thoughts since the interval. Gideon’s face was a polite mask, but she had no doubt that he, too, was thinking of it. Dominique understood only too clearly why Gideon had wanted to marry the actress. She was everything that Dominique was not—tall, fair and beautiful—and no doubt well versed in the art of pleasing a man.

All through the comic opera Dominique had thought about her. As the musicians played she had heard that dark, smoky laugh, remembered the graceful beauty, the cerulean-blue eyes and painted lips curving into an alluring smile. It was useless to remind herself that she was Gideon’s wife, the mother of his child. If his own father advocated taking a mistress, why should he not give in to the temptation?

In the darkness of their carriage as they drove back to Chalcots he reached for her hand.

‘You are very quiet.’

‘I am fatigued. It has been a long evening.’

‘I hope you are not fretting about your cousin. Or Mrs Bennet.’

‘No, of course not.’ She was glad he could not see her face in the darkness. She added, unable to help herself, ‘She is very beautiful.’

‘Exquisite.’ Her heart sank. ‘But you have nothing to fear from her, Dominique. I have no intention of renewing that particular acquaintance.’

Fine words, but would he be able to resist, having seen her again? Only time would tell.

‘Dominique?’

‘Yes?’

‘You do believe me, don’t you?

‘Yes. I believe you.’

‘That is good.’ He kissed her hand and squeezed it before letting it go so that he could put his arm about her. ‘If there is anything troubling you, anything at all, you must tell me. Do you understand?’

She leaned against his shoulder, breathing in the familiar scent of him, the mixture of soap and clean linen and the faint spicy cologne he wore on his skin.

‘I understand.’

But when they reached the house, he kissed her gently and left her at the bedroom door. As he always did.

* * *

Gideon found his wife very quiet the following morning and she did not greet him with her usual sunny smile. He poured himself a coffee and was debating whether to ask her what was the matter when the butler came in to tell him that the carriage had just returned from Brook Street.

‘Ah, yes, thank you, Thomas.’ Gideon put down his cup and addressed Dominique. ‘Rogers told me yesterday that he has a tenant for my father’s house, so I asked Mrs Wilkins to clear the rooms of all our personal effects and send them here. There should not be much, but perhaps you would like to tell the servants where you want everything stored?’

‘Yes, of course.’ She began to fold her napkin.

Gideon raised his brows.

‘You do not need to dash off immediately, my dear. The luggage will wait.’

‘‘No, I—um—I have finished here, thank you. I shall deal with it now.’

Gideon watched her go, a faint crease in his brow. There were dark circles beneath her eyes, but surely they were not caused by the events at the theatre, for he had reassured her that she had nothing to fear. Seeing Agnes on Max’s arm had been a shock, but Gideon was surprised at how little he now felt for the woman. Perhaps Dominique was fretting over the baby. He decided he would visit the nursery when he had broken his fast, but when he got there Nurse assured him that Baby James was giving no cause for concern. He went off to his study, still frowning.

Was Gwen’s behaviour causing Nicky to be anxious? There was no doubt that his sister was playing a dangerous game with her flirts and cicisbeos. Gideon did not believe she had taken a lover, but if she meant to make Ribblestone jealous by her actions then he feared she would find herself far off the mark. They were dining at Grosvenor Square that evening, so perhaps he would take the opportunity to drop a word of warning in Gwen’s ear. Anthony was as easy-going as a man could be, but he would only stand her nonsense for so long. Gideon tried to think what he would do if Dominique were to tease him in the same way and was shocked at the anger that shot through him. He was obliged to push the idea away as he sat down at his desk and began to go through the post that Thomas had left there for him. If there was nothing urgent he would find Dominique and invite her to ride out with him. That might help to dispel whatever worries had driven the smile from her eyes.

The pile of letters was small: a few tradesmen’s bills, a note from Rogers, confirming the arrangements for letting the house in Brook Street, and a small, sealed note that had been delivered by hand. He broke the seal and unfolded the paper, his jaw tightening as he read through the neatly written lines.

* * *

Dominique stood in the hall, looking at the boxes, bags and portmanteaux before her. She consigned them all to the attics, with the exception of the battered and corded trunk that Max had sent from Martlesham. Her eyes dwelled thoughtfully on the door to the oak parlour, where Gideon was finishing his breakfast, then with sudden decision she directed the servants to take the trunk to her bedchamber.

* * *

Mindful of the instructions in the letter, Gideon drove to Piccadilly and left Sam in charge of the curricle while he made his way on foot into Green Park. He strode quickly to the area between the reservoir and the Lodge and as he approached, a cloaked figure turned and he found himself looking into the beautiful face of Agnes Bennet.

‘We’d best walk on,’ she murmured. ‘It will look less suspicious if anyone should see us.’

There was a flatness to her vowels that he had not heard before. She was no longer trying to pretend she was a lady.

‘You wanted to see me,’ he said, falling into step beside her.

‘Lord Martlesham ordered it.’ She met his sceptical glance and looked away quickly. ‘He threatened to break my arm if I did not do so. He wants me to make mischief between you and your wife.’

‘And do you think you can?’

She shrugged. ‘I don’t even want to try. Making trouble between a man and his wife ain’t my style. Martlesham played you both false last year when he contrived your marriage.’ She paused. ‘I wasn’t easy about that, but if I hadn’t done it he’d have found someone else. And he was paying me so very well it was impossible to refuse. I thought it would be a little harmless jollity—’

‘Harmless!’

She flushed.

‘I did not realise he meant to carry it through to a full marriage ceremony. When I heard—’ She looked up at him. ‘That was a cruel trick to play on you and on the young lady. I apologise.’

‘Is that why you wanted to meet, to salve your conscience with an apology?’ Gideon could not stop his lip curling in derision. ‘Is that the important matter you wanted to discuss?’

‘No! No, although I am glad of the opportunity to tell you I regret my part in the whole thing.’

‘What, then?’

‘I’ve information for you, about your wife’s dowry.’

‘My wife has no dowry. You yourself informed me of the fact when you were impersonating her.’

‘That is what Martlesham told me and what he wants you to believe.’

‘And now he wants you to tell me differently.’

‘No.’ She sighed. ‘I had best explain. When Martlesham returned to town this spring he sought me out. He wanted to make me his mistress.’ She gave a humourless little laugh. ‘I am aware of my attractions, but I knew that was not the whole of it, because when I refused his advances he still took me to live with him—made it impossible to refuse him, if you want to know the truth. He believes you’re still in love with me—no need to tell me that ain’t true because I could see as much last night.’ She paused and looked up at him, a sudden smile lighting her eyes. ‘We enjoyed those weeks together last spring, didn’t we? But it was never going to last, I knew that.’

Looking down into her face, she did not seem quite as bewitching as he remembered. She was still beautiful, but somehow the perfect features and intensely blue eyes failed to rouse any desire in Gideon. Her smile grew rueful, as if she could read his mind. With an expressive little shrug she continued.

‘Max installed me in his London house, where he parades me in front of his friends as his mistress—he hasn’t yet got me into his bed, but he will, in time.’ She rubbed her arms and shuddered a little. Gideon had the impression that she was not at all happy with her current situation. ‘He made me give up the stage and insists I remain in the house, even when he is out at some entertainment. The servants ignore me when they can, which suits me very well. I have spent my time exploring.’ She looked up, her blue eyes cold as ice. ‘I will tell you now, Gideon, that I do not like Martlesham. He is a cruel man.’

‘Then why don’t you leave him?’

‘I intend to, but he is powerful, so I have to be careful. Whenever I am alone in his house I spend my time looking through his papers, trying to find something to give me a hold over him.’

‘And have you succeeded?’

She shook her head.