Regency Innocents (50 page)

She had never looked more beautiful.

Wondering what it would take to goad his very correct young wife into losing her tenuous grip on her temper, he eyed her ill-fitting nightwear, and said, ‘Take it off.'

She did not mistake his meaning, and, though her eyes narrowed, she just tugged the ties of her wrapper open, flung the garment to the floor and kicked it away from her feet.

And stood before him gloriously, furiously naked.

‘Satisfied?' she demanded, planting her hands on her hips.

‘Not yet,' he growled, though he knew satisfaction was not far off. It had not escaped his notice that tonight she had left her hair loose. Anticipating his demands. ‘Get into bed now.'

The smouldering look that went with that peremptory command scythed right through her anger. Dropping her gaze to the folded-back edges of the bedcovers, she clambered in beside him.

Immediately, he hooked his arm round her waist and pulled her close. His weight pressed her back into the pillows as he kissed her forcefully.

Ohh …' She shuddered when, eventually, he paused to draw breath. She wondered whether it was silly of her to feel flattered that he had not hesitated, as he had done the night before. She must have pleased him, though she was so inexperienced, for him to have set to work so swiftly.

‘Oh, indeed,' he murmured thickly against her throat.

As his mouth worked hungrily against her neck, she felt as though she was melting. He raised himself slightly, just far enough so that he could run his tongue around the delicate whorls of her ear, and she found that she was running her hands up and down his flanks. He nipped the lobe gently with his teeth. She hooked her leg over his, so that she could run her foot over the calf muscles.

And they went up in flames, just as they had done the night before.

Deborah was amazed that he could want her with such ferocity, in the darkness of their bed, when by daylight, he did not seem to want her anywhere near him. But her awareness of how little she meant to him did not stop her from responding with her own fierce delight. And marvelling that this time, when he finally entered her, there was no pain, only an intensifying of her own pleasure.

Afterwards, they sank back into the soft feather
mattress, side by side, not quite touching, though she was aware of every breath he took. She felt as though she was waiting for something for him. Some sign. And wondered why she should suddenly feel wary, when they had just been so closely engaged.

It was a bit like a truce after a bloody battle, she mused, when each side gave the other time to collect their wounded from the field of combat, each aware of the other, but in no fit state to engage in further action. They had even communicated their passion through their sighs and moans, neither of them quite daring to shatter their tenuous bubble of harmony by putting anything into words.

As Deborah slipped into an exhausted sleep, she wondered if she would always feel as sad as this after they had been together.

The bedchamber was still shrouded in darkness, the heavy curtains firmly shutting out the feeble rays of early daylight, when she woke, to hear Linney moving about the room.

All the previous night's anger surged back. It was one thing having her husband see her naked, though that had been embarrassing enough. But she drew the line at having his servant wandering about the room while she had no clothes on!

Sitting up, having first made sure that the sheet was decorously clutched over her breasts, she turned a furious face to the manservant.

‘Get out!' she yelled at him.

He paused in the act of settling a tray on a small table under the window.

‘Begging your pardon, miss … madam, but I always bring the Captain's breakfast to—'

‘Not any more you don't! Not while I am in his bed. If the Captain wants you, he can ring for you.'

Linney straightened up, his face blank. ‘He did ring for me.'

She turned to look at her husband, who was regarding her with a look of barely concealed impatience.

Mortified, she slumped back on to the pillows, her only recourse to pull the covers completely over her head. Only once she had deduced, from the noises of crockery clattering, floorboards creaking, and the door squeaking open and shut, that Linney had left the room, did she emerge from under the covers.

‘Good morning, to you too,' he growled.

‘I don't know what kind of women you usually associate with,' she replied, resorting to frosty haughtiness to overcome her sense of humiliation, ‘but I am not in the habit of displaying my naked body to anyone, let alone male servants!'

‘Linney is more than just a servant to me,' he replied darkly.

Deborah gasped. He really put the dignity of his servant before her own discomfort. But then he added, ‘Though, of course, I can see we cannot continue in quite the same habits we used to have. It's merely a question of logistics.'

‘L-logistics?' she squeaked, increasingly outraged by the way he was treating her.

‘Yes, you see, Linney and I have got into a routine that has worked for us both for several months now. It
is not a simple matter to get me prepared to face the day. I warned you that you would have to get used to him being an integral part of our life. He is not just a valet, who lays out my clothes, pours my washing water and shaves me.' He speared his fingers through his fringe, pushing it out of his eyes. ‘Damn it, Deborah, have you no sensitivity at all? Do I have to spell it out for you? I need help just to piss in the mornings! And if you don't get your carcass out of this bed, and ring for him to come back, you are going to have to be the one to hold the bottle to my …'

‘I'm sorry, I'm sorry,' she stammered, sliding out of the bed and groping on the floor for her wrap. ‘I'll ring for him to come back, and get out of your way.' Her cheeks flaming, she did as she had said, then hastily made for the door to her dressing room.

Once again, she had only looked at things from her own point of view. Her husband had told her he did not want her in the room while Linney undressed and put him to bed at night. She pressed her hands to her flaming cheeks, recalling the crude way he had spoken of having the man carry him back to his own bed, if she insisted on having her own room. Why had she not taken in the significance of what he had been trying to tell her? He could not get about with any ease, once he had removed his false leg, without the help of his burly serving man.

She sank to the floor by the washstand, bowing her head in her hands. She had not really comprehended just how awkward things that she took for granted were to him. And with her clumsy insistence on her own rights, she had forced him to speak of the weakness he
managed to conceal from the rest of the world with such resounding success.

She felt thoroughly ashamed of herself.

And, worse, experienced a sinking feeling that she had given her rather touchy husband yet another reason to dislike her.

Captain Fawley lifted his eyes from the balance sheets, to see if Travers was trying to make fun of him.

There was nothing in the factor's pale eyes to show he was anything but a diligent employee.

‘Are you quite sure?' he eventually brought himself to ask.

‘Well, of course, the figures are only to the end of last quarter. Bound to be some fluctuations in the overall value since then. But not to any significant extent.'

‘I had no idea.'

Travers smiled for the first time since he had walked into the office, as arranged, to go over the books with the new owner of The Dovecote.

‘Nobody did, save Miss Lampton and myself,' said Travers, a gleam of enthusiasm lighting his formerly colourless demeanour. A very astute mind, had Miss Lampton. Invested very wisely.'

Captain Fawley suddenly found himself assailed by a wave of curiosity towards his benefactress.

‘Explain,' he barked, inadvertently reverting to the attitude of commanding officer towards a subordinate up on a charge. Travers automatically sat a little straighter in his chair.

‘Well, Miss Lampton, you see, sir, did have a little
money of her own, when she initially came to live here. Her father had banished her from the parental home when she refused to enter the marriage he had arranged for her. But instead of begging his forgiveness, Miss Lampton found that his harshness had stiffened her resolve to become independent of any man. And so, secretly, she began to, umm, speculate in various ventures ….'

‘On your advice?'

‘Oh, no, sir. She had her own ideas about how she wanted to invest her money. Very forceful, she was. Would have dealt with the city traders herself, but for the fact such activity is forbidden a lady. Disliked having to use me at all, to tell you the truth, at least at first. After a few years, though …' he smiled as though indulging in fond memories ‘… well, we got used to each other.'

A very successful partnership, in effect.'

‘Yes sir, as you can see.' Travers indicated the ledgers which lay open on the desk.

Almost every single venture Miss Lampton had decided to dabble in had paid huge dividends. The wealth she had bequeathed to Captain Fawley was stupendous. He could live like a lord for the rest of his days. He frowned. His own modest requirements would scarcely make a dent in such an enormous fortune. He was too disfigured to try to cut a dash in society. At one time, he would have been delighted at the prospect of being able to indulge in his love of horseflesh. Now he could scarcely control the gentle mare Lensborough had trained and sold to him on terms that were akin to giving the creature away.

‘I cannot continue on the path she trod,' he admitted to his factor, after a moment or two of reflection. ‘I have always been a soldier. I have no head for business.'

‘She foresaw that eventuality,' Travers said just a shade too quickly. ‘She suggested you might like to simply sell up, invest in the funds and live a life of indolence.'

From the expression on his factor's face, Captain Fawley judged that Miss Lampton had not held very high expectations of his capabilities. Yet that had not prevented her from leaving everything she owned to him. He ran a rather shaky hand over the stack of ledgers on the desk.

He had a sudden vision of the woman who had lived in this house, scheming and plotting to make a fortune that she would leave to a complete stranger. She had not done it because she had any personal feelings for him. From what he had been able to tell so far, she disliked all males, on principle.

‘Why me?' he grated. ‘I am no relation to her at all.'

Travers stuck his chin out a little as he said, ‘That was to your advantage, sir. Her family washed their hands of her when she became, as they termed it, difficult. Either of her brothers could have defended her when her father ousted her from the family home. Or even when the old man died. But they did nothing. The only person who tried to intercede on her behalf was your mother. She went to the old man and begged him to let Euphemia choose a husband she could love. It was perhaps inevitable that when Algernon became head of the family, he began to persecute your mother. He blamed her, you see, for encouraging his sister to defy
their father. By the time Miss Lampton discovered what was afoot, there was nothing she could do for the unfortunate lady. But she felt she could partially redress the injustice by making you her heir. Shall I proceed with the sale for you, sir?' asked Travers, when Captain Fawley remained broodingly silent.

‘I suppose that would be for the best,' he conceded. He could settle up his payment plan with Lensborough. It would be the first thing he would do. ‘See to it, would you?'

Travers smiled as he got to his feet. ‘With pleasure, sir. And may I say how glad I am you have fulfilled the terms necessary to inherit the fortune Miss Lampton worked all her life to bequeath to you. I would have been sorry to see that scapegrace nephew of hers get his hands on it.' His smile dimmed. ‘Not once did he ever try to so much as visit her, when he thought she was just an eccentric old lady, eking out her existence in rural fastness!'

‘To be fair, nor did I.'

‘Ah, but you never even knew of her existence, did you, sir? It amused her, to think of herself as a sort of fairy godmother, weaving her magic behind the scenes …' He ground to a halt at the appalled look on Captain Fawley's features.

‘Well, I don't deny she was a little eccentric,' he said uncomfortably. ‘Just one more question,' said Captain Fawley. The factor schooled his face into that of bland servitor, awaiting his pleasure. ‘If she disliked her brother, and her brother's son, so much, how did Percy Lampton manage to get himself a mention in her will at all?'

‘A bad business, that.' Travers' face darkened. ‘In
her latter years, when she became less mobile, Algernon took to visiting her occasionally. He would stride about the place, assessing its value, assuming she must bequeath it to another member of the family. He wanted his younger son, Percy, to inherit it, since the major part of his own estate went to his own heir. When he discovered that not only had she already made a will, but that it was in your favour, he became … well, I think
vicious
is the only word to describe it. He bullied and hounded her until she made that codicil, for writing you out altogether, he could not make her do!' Pulling himself together, he finished, ‘Will that be all?'

Captain Fawley felt faint stirrings of a strange sense of kinship with the woman he had never personally known. She seemed to have disliked her brother almost as much as he did. She must have done, to have taken such pains to make sure that the boy he had set out to oppress became wealthy.

When the factor had left, Captain Fawley remained seated at the desk, marvelling at the extent of his good fortune. A feeling of exaltation rose within his chest and burst from his lips in the form of laughter. He had hoped he would never have to worry about a bill again. Buy a fresh set of linen whenever he felt like it. Play a hand of cards without having to consider how much change he had in his pocket first. Not this!