Make-Believe Wife (3 page)

Roxanne was a woman most men would notice, her figure not willowy slender, but athletic—statuesque, might be a good word. She reminded him of the marble figure of Diana the Huntress he had commissioned for his country house, which stood in a fragrant corner of his garden, but warm with life and passion instead of white and cold. He could imagine what the leader of the travelling players had planned for her and the thought brought a frown of anger to his brow.

Damn the man for his impudence!

Clearly, her friend Sofia had been a person of influence, protecting the girl as she grew to womanhood, but once she was dead, Roxanne was at the mercy of any rogue who saw her. Luke did not know why that thought made him angry, but his protective instincts had been roused and, in thinking of her and ways to make certain she was protected, he was able to fight off his pain.

He cursed himself for riding carelessly as a wave of faintness washed over him and it took all his willpower to stay in the saddle and hold on to the reins.

‘I could take control of the horse if you wish, sir. He would respond to me, as he did earlier.'

Roxanne's words jerked him back to reality and her arms about him helped fight off the faintness. He must stay awake, because he needed to be in command. She must not be allowed to slip away when they reached the inn. He could not lose her yet; he needed her help.

‘I can manage,' he growled. ‘It cannot be much further.'

‘I pray you are right,' she said and her arms tightened about him, as if she would save him from falling.

A sharp wave of desire shot through Luke, bringing him to his senses more surely than any words. He laughed deep in his throat—it was like him to want the unobtainable. Luke had met with little resistance in his adult life; the ladies were usually more than willing to share his bed—or even entice him into the summerhouse. It was ironic that the first one to evoke such a strong response in him for an age had placed herself out of reach.

Roxanne had made it clear she would not be his mistress and in all honour he could not use his charm to persuade her after all she had done. However, it would not suit him if she were to run away. He might never see her again, and that thought was sufficient to stave off both the pain and the faintness. An ironic smile settled over his lips. She had already shown herself compassionate; perhaps the best way to keep her with him was to plead his need of a nurse or helper to see him home.

‘Hold me tighter,' he said. ‘The pain makes me faint. I beg you, do not desert me, Miss Roxanne. In this state I am helpless and at the mercy of unscrupulous rogues—men who would see me dead as soon as look at me.'

‘You have enemies?'

‘An enemy,' Luke improvised. ‘You accused me of
riding too hard, but I was trying to escape from him when the fox startled my horse.'

He justified his lie to himself. His enemy was the bitter anger that had been festering inside him since the interview with his grandfather. The Earl of Hartingdon's unfair accusations and his outrageous demands had smouldered in his brain, making him careless.

‘Will you be safe when you reach London?'

‘Yes.' Luke waited, holding his breath. ‘Once I am home I shall be perfectly safe, but I need help lest I lose consciousness and lie ill by the wayside.'

‘It is true that not everyone would help if you became ill of a fever. I know that men like Black Bob might take advantage and rob you.' Roxanne seemed to hesitate, then, ‘Very well, I shall not abandon you. I will see that a doctor is fetched, and, if you are ill, stay with you until you are home. I will nurse you and care for you should you need it. However, you must give me your word not to take advantage, sir.'

‘You have my word as a gentleman,' Luke said. ‘I am Luke Clarendon, a man of independent means and of good family. You may trust me, Miss Roxanne. Watch over me until I am fit again. I shall reward you by taking you to London—and I will introduce you to the manager of a theatre.'

‘Very well, it is a bargain,' Roxanne said and her arms clung comfortingly to him once more.

Luke smiled. He did not think she would break her word for she might have done so in the woods. If he
could delay their journey for a few days, she might come to like him—and once they were in London, he would find a way of keeping her with him.

T
he inn they came to a little later was a small posting inn, not one of those Luke had frequented in the past, but decent in appearance; its yard was swept clean and the groom who came running to help respectful and eager to serve.

‘Mr Clarendon has had a fall from his horse,' Roxanne said and slid down from the saddle unaided. ‘He cannot walk without assistance. We need a room for him and one for me—and a doctor must be called at once, for his ankle is hurt and he is in great pain.'

Luke moaned as he slid down from the horse and his injured leg jarred. The action had caused the pain to intensify and he swayed as the faintness swirled in his head. Roxanne and the groom rushed to his aid, managing to save him from a further fall. The groom shouted for help and another two came running.

‘Ned, take the gentleman's horse—Jeremiah, help
me and then fetch the doctor. Mr Clarendon is in pain with his ankle.'

The two grooms supported Luke towards the inn, which was a modest building, with whitewashed walls, a thatched roof and small leaded windows. Luke glanced over his shoulder and drew a sigh of relief as he saw Roxanne was following with her bundles. His whole leg was throbbing now and he felt very faint. Indeed, he might have fallen had the grooms supporting him not been strong men.

He was supported into the inn. A large portly man came to greet them, his knowing eyes going over both Luke and then Roxanne.

‘Would you be needing a room for you and the—lady, sir?'

‘We need two rooms,' Roxanne said. ‘Mr Clarendon has hurt his ankle. I think there may be a small break. One of your grooms has gone for the doctor. However, I shall be nursing Mr Clarendon until we leave.'

‘And who might you be, miss?' The landlord's brows met in a frown.

‘I am Mr Clarendon's new governess,' Roxanne said in a clear firm tone. ‘He has employed me to teach his nephew. My horse was lost in the woods; it ran off and we could not waste time looking for her. My name is Miss Roxanne Peters.'

Luke glanced at her, resisting a grin. It appeared that she could spin a tale as easily as he. The landlord looked uncertain whether to believe her, but was galvanised into action by a moan of pain from Luke.

‘Take the gentleman up to the best chamber,' he
commanded his minions. ‘The governess can have the smaller room two doors down.'

‘Thank you, landlord,' Luke said and glanced back at Roxanne. ‘Follow us up, Miss Peters. I shall want you in attendance when the doctor arrives.'

‘I shall be with you in a moment, sir.'

The landlord had gone before them. He gestured at the room that was to be Roxanne's, leaving her to make her own way while continuing further down the passage.

Roxanne went inside the small room. There was a narrow iron bedstead with a white counterpane, blue curtains at the window and a small chest of drawers. To a girl who had been used to living in a caravan it was perfectly adequate. Roxanne dumped her bundles on the floor, took the key from the inside of the door and locked it as she went out, pocketing it safely. Her possessions were not valuable, but they were all she had and she could not afford to lose them—nor did she wish the landlord to go poking his nose into her things.

Walking quickly to the room where she had seen them take her employer—she had decided that the best way to go on was to act the part of an upper-class servant—Roxanne entered and saw that the landlord was standing by the bed. Both the grooms had gone.

‘Thank you,' she said. ‘I can manage him now.'

The landlord turned, his eyes narrowed and not exactly friendly. Roxanne felt a prickling at her nape. Mr Clarendon seemed barely conscious. She had a feeling that had she not been here to protect him, he might well have been robbed of his possessions. Perhaps she
was wronging the landlord, but she was not sure he was honest.

‘Right. I'll send the doctor up when he gets here.' He looked at her hard. ‘I'll be wanting five shillings a night for this room, two for yours—food and the doctor extra.'

‘Yes, of course. You will be paid. Mr Clarendon is a respectable man and we should not dream of running off without paying you.'

‘You better hadn't. Jake Hardcastle never forgets a face—and I reckon I've seen yours before, but I can't recall where. You weren't a governess then.' He leered at her. ‘If I don't get paid one way, I can take my dues another.'

‘Will you please leave us.' Roxanne's manner was haughty, more the great lady than a governess. ‘After the doctor has been we shall want food—perhaps some good chicken broth and fresh bread.'

He inclined his head, but made no other answer. Leaving the room, he paused to look back as Roxanne bent over the bed.

‘Mr Clarendon,' she said, placing a hand to Luke's forehead. He was feeling warm and a little damp. She thought perhaps he had started a fever. ‘Do not worry. I am here. I shall not leave you.'

The sound of the door shutting soundly made Roxanne look round. The landlord had gone and when she turned back, her patient's eyelids fluttered and then opened.

‘Has he gone?' he muttered. ‘The place looks decent
enough, but that fellow is a rascal. I don't trust him. You won't leave me, Roxanne?'

‘Miss Peters. I am your employee, remember?'

A wry laugh was wrung from his lips. ‘You will make a damned fine actress, Roxanne. You reminded me of a strict governess I once had—she frightened the life out of us all, except the earl.'

‘The earl? Who is he?'

‘Oh, just someone we lived with when I was young. He isn't important.' Luke moaned and beads of sweat appeared on his brow. ‘I am sorry to make so much fuss. I wouldn't have thought a broken bone could be so painful. I do not recall it hurting this much when I broke my arm as a youngster.'

‘You had to ride here and be manhandled up the stairs. I have not been trained to set broken bones and the bandage I applied may have made the pain worse. When the doctor comes he will rebind it and give you something to help you sleep.'

‘Will you sit with me while I sleep? Or perhaps you should keep the money with you? I do not trust him.'

‘Nor I,' she admitted. ‘Do you trust me with your gold?'

‘What choice have I?' Luke reached out to touch her hand as she frowned. ‘No, that was badly put. Yes, I trust you, Roxanne. It is odd, but I feel I have known you for ever. I know you will not desert me, for you have given your word.'

‘Then I shall put the money somewhere safe.'

‘It is in my coat pocket, in a leather purse. I do not
know exactly what is there but it should be enough to see us safely back to London.'

Roxanne examined his coat and found the purse. She opened the strings and counted the gold, holding it out on her hand so that he could see.

‘You have ten gold sovereigns, sir. I think it should be adequate for the journey, don't you?'

‘You did not need to show me. I told you, I trust you. Now put them somewhere safe.'

‘Yes, I shall.'

Roxanne turned her back on him. Lifting her skirts, she located the secret pocket sewn into her petticoats and added the gold to her secret treasure. It felt heavy, making her very conscious of its presence, but she would become accustomed to the extra weight.

She turned back and saw Luke staring at her.

‘It is the safest place I know. My bundles could be searched or snatched.'

Luke nodded, his eyes narrowed and thoughtful. ‘You are a resourceful woman, Roxanne. I wonder what your secret is—what you are not telling me?'

‘Why should you think I have a secret?'

How could he know? No, he could not. He was just testing her.

‘I shall not pry,' Luke said and yawned, closing his eyes. ‘You keep your secrets, Roxanne—and I shall keep mine.'

Roxanne turned her head. How had he sensed that she was hiding her secret? She had not told him about the day Sofia found her wandering, all memory of her previous life gone. Nor had she told him about the
jewel she carried in her secret pocket. Sofia had told her she had been clutching it tightly in her right hand when she was found and refused to let go for days. She also carried a lace kerchief with the initials R. P. embroidered into the corner in red. Sofia had said the name Roxanne suited her. They had never bothered with a second name and she had used Peters when the innkeeper asked, because it was the first to come to her mind. She had once done some sewing for a Lady Peters and been given a gold sovereign for her trouble.

Sofia had hidden the ruby safely and Roxanne had forgotten its existence until her friend reminded her as she lay dying. Sofia had said she should sell the jewel, but Roxanne was not certain she had the right to do so, for she did not know whether it belonged to her or someone else. Had she stolen the jewel and run away from her home—or her employer?

Why had she refused to let it go for days?

She hesitated, considering whether she ought to tell Luke Clarendon the rest of her story, but the moment had passed; she heard the sound of voices outside the door and then it opened and a man entered. He was dressed in a shabby black coat and knee breeches, the battered hat he deposited on the chest having seen better days. However, his linen looked clean and he nodded his head respectfully as he approached the bed.

‘The gentleman took a fall from his horse, you say?'

‘Yes,' Roxanne replied. ‘He has been in considerable pain since.'

‘I shall examine him,' the doctor said and bent over Luke, pulling back the covers. He unwound the stock
Roxanne had used and ran his fingers over the swollen ankle, frowning and nodding to himself. ‘I think this may be a case of dislocation rather than a break. Your employer has been lucky, miss.' Hearing a moan from the patient, the physician turned his gaze on him. ‘This may hurt a bit, sir. I am going to…' He pulled Luke's leg out straight, making him yell out with pain as something clicked. ‘Yes, I thought so. It will be painful for a while, but I shall put a tight bandage on and visit again tomorrow. You will need to rest for a time, but in a few days it should start to mend. You had dislocated the bones just above your ankle and the ligaments will be inflamed, but I am sure the bones themselves are not broken.'

‘I pray you are right,' Luke muttered between gritted teeth. ‘It hurts like hell now.'

‘Yes, I dare say it may.' The doctor dipped into his bag, brought out linen bandages and rebound Luke's ankle and above to his calf. ‘That should help the damage to settle and it will heal naturally. I'll give you something for the pain.' He delved into his bag again and took out a small brown bottle. ‘This will help you sleep, but it is dangerous if you take too many doses. You will have to measure it—just four drops into a cup of water every six hours. Miss Peters, is it?'

‘Yes, that is my name,' Roxanne lied and took the bottle. ‘Is this laudanum?'

‘Yes—have you used it before?'

‘A friend of mine used it sometimes. I know that it must be handled carefully, sir.'

‘Then I can trust you to look after our patient.' He
glanced down at Luke. ‘You will sleep soon, Mr Clarendon—and there should not be a fever, but if it happens you may send for me again.'

The physician took his leave. Roxanne carefully measured the drops into a glass of water. She helped Luke to sit up and he took the cup, gulping it down and draining the lot. Then he lay back against the pillows with a sigh.

‘I was selfish to ask you to sit with me. You should go to bed and rest.'

‘I shall sit here by the fire for a while. The doctor says there will be no fever, but I want to be sure you are peaceful. You were warm and sweaty earlier. I thought you might take a fever, but perhaps now you can rest you will soon feel better.'

Roxanne sat down by the fireplace. Someone had lit the fire when they brought Luke Clarendon up and it was just beginning to draw well. Her room had no fire and she might as well sit here in comfort—but she would lock the door first, just in case she dozed off.

 

Roxanne woke with a start. The fire was still burning so she could not have been asleep long. She got up quickly and went to the bed, bending over Luke. He appeared to be sleeping peacefully and when she placed a hand to his forehead, he was only slightly warm.

If he had not made a sound, what had woken her? She went to the door and stood with her ear against it, listening.

‘Is anyone there?' she asked softly, but received no answer. ‘What do you want?'

Another sound alerted her and she turned swiftly towards the window, just in time to see a man's face looking in. Someone must have fetched a ladder to try to gain entrance that way after realising the door was bolted on the inside. Instinctively, Roxanne bent down and retrieved the iron poker from the fireplace. She approached the window, raising her arm high, making it clear that she was ready to repel any intruder. For a moment she stared at the face looking in. The features were coarse and common, unknown to her. Aware that he had been spotted, the man hesitated and then disappeared. Roxanne looked out and saw the top of his head hurriedly descending the ladder, which he then picked up and ran off with towards the stables.

Roxanne's legs felt slightly shaky as she sat down by the fire once more. She had not known the man attempting to enter by way of the window, but she was certain the landlord would. Her instincts had been right. Their host was a rascal and it would not be safe for her to leave Luke Clarendon alone while he was in a drugged sleep.

For a moment she wondered if the doctor had been in with them, but Luke seemed to be easier now and she thought the physician had known his job well enough. She shivered and bent down to place another log on the fire. If Luke were well enough to hire a carriage of some sort, they would do better to move on as soon as they could.

 

‘Have you been to bed at all?' Luke asked as he opened his eyes and looked up at her. She had been
applying a cool cloth to his brow. ‘That feels good, but I do not have a fever. My mind is quite clear now. I think I slept for a long time?'