Tallie's Knight (34 page)

They had boarded the
boat with great relief, only to spend the next two anxious weeks at anchor,
waiting for a favourable wind. Magnus had chafed at the delay. But now,
finally, after six days and nights of sailing,
England
lay ahead.

“You have become a
much better sailor, have you not?” Magnus was determined to cheer her. He hated
to see her so low in spirits.

She shrugged.

“I suppose it has
something to do with my condition.”

Magnus trailed his
knuckles down her cool cheek in a gentle caress.

“Are you not enjoying
this beautiful night, my dear? You are cold, perhaps? Would you like to return
to your cabin?”

“No, not at all. You
are right, my love —it is a lovely night,” said Tallie sadly. “On such a night
one finds it almost impossible to imagine that there is such ugliness in this
world as war…”

But she knew there
was, because lashed to the deck in front of her, secured in oilskin bags, were
all the important papers on board —passports, regimentals, letters and
dispatches. The captain of the Lark had ordered them secured out in the open —ready
to be tossed overboard should the ship be boarded by the French. It was no idle
threat, because for two days their ship had been pursued by French cruisers. On
the third night the Lark had managed to slip away.

And so she was safe,
but her little brother was still in danger. Her unknown little brother, so much
more real to her now than he had been when first she had decided to search for
him. A bad, merry little boy, alone in the mountains. She hoped there were
plenty of apples for him to steal, but winter was drawing nearer.

“Oh, I do hope he
will be all right.”

Magnus frowned. He
knew full well who he was. She’d spoken of him almost every day since they had
left Carlotta’s, just like this —out of the blue— indicating how constantly he
was in her thoughts.

He wished there was
something he could do about it, but there was nothing. He’d racked his brains,
over and over. It was his unexpressed opinion that the boy was probably dead,
but he would rather cut off his hand than say so and distress her further. But
he could not bear to see his vivacious little bride so wan, and his inability
to do anything about it chafed him unbearably.

“No doubt one of
Carlotta’s relatives will find him,” he said bracingly. “They do turn up in the
most unexpected places.”

He inclined his head
towards the couple standing at the rail near the bow of the ship. Monique and
Gino —the handsome young nephew who had followed them to
Switzerland
and
then
Austria
.
Finally, in
Berlin
,
he had convinced Monique to marry him.

“I hope I won’t be
obliged to provide homes and jobs for all of Carlotta’s relatives,” Magnus
murmured jokingly in her ear. “I doubt even d’Arenville Hall is big enough for
them all.”

Tallie smiled, but it
was still a trifle too wistful for his liking.

Damn it, he wished he
could do something.

It was almost an
anticlimax to land at the placid English town of
Southwold
, with its small fleet of sailing
boats and its line of little bathing boxes arrayed along the beach.

They found an inn,
and Magnus and Tallie entered while John Black went to hire a coach and horses.
The smell of new-baked bread and roasting beef informed them dinner was almost
ready. Tallie’s stomach rumbled as they sat down to table in a private dining
room. Magnus smiled.

“It smells very good,
does it not, my dear? At last —fresh bread and good honest English beef with no
fancy sauces. And plain baked potatoes and boiled vegetables.” He rubbed his
hands. “A real pleasure after all that foreign food and our recent rations of pickled
pork and ship’s biscuits.”

Tallie cast him a
look of burning reproach.

“At least we always
had plenty to eat. We were never in danger of starving.”

Magnus gritted his
teeth. It was not his fault they had not been able to stay and search for her
brother, blast it! And he was getting fed up with feeling guilty about it. He
had his wife to protect —and her unborn child! What did she expect him to do?

Take a pregnant wife
on a wild-goose chase, searching for a child who’d been abandoned in the
mountains God only knew how long ago! No child would have survived that. Even
without the added danger of the war, it would have been an exercise in heartbreak
—and he knew whose heart would break. And he was damned if he’d allow it!

“You cannot prevent
your brother starving by starving yourself,” he said bluntly. “And besides, you
have another child to consider.”

“Oh, yes, I am well
aware of that!” she retorted, suddenly angry with the way he kept trying to
divert her from speaking of her brother. “A more important child —your child,
the heir to the great d’Arenville name. Not some poor little lost, half-foreign
bastard—” She stopped, clapping her hand to her mouth, horrified by what she’d
suddenly blurted out.

“A bastard?” said
Magnus, frowning. “Your brother is a bastard? He is only a half-brother, then?”

“No, he is my
brother.” she insisted angrily. “I do’ not care what Mama may have done, or who
his father may have been. I do not care a rush for what anyone may say —he is
my brother!”

“But—”

She pushed her chair
back from the table and said bitterly.

“I planned never to
tell you. I knew how it would be. The noble family of d’Arenville must never be
tainted with such as he.” She glared at him. “Oh, do not bother to deny it,
Magnus, I can see from the look on your face what you think. That is why I
never told you why it was so important to me to find my mother’s grave, why I
went off into the mountains to search for him without your permission. I knew
what you would say, knew you would find some way to prevent me finding him.”

“I was not
responsible for the blasted war breaking out again!”

She waved his
objection away.

“I know that! But
even without it you would not have taken me into the hills to search, would
you?”

He met her level
gaze.

“No, I probably would
not have allowed my pregnant wife to drag herself around the mountains on some
wild-goose chase—”

“Exactly! And if I had
found him, what then?”

Magnus hesitated.

“You would have
considered him an embarrassment, wouldn’t you?” She nodded, as if she had read
confirmation in his eyes. “I thought as much. You would have sent him away to
be hidden from the eyes of the world, wouldn’t you? Farmed him out with a
tenant —the more obscure and distant the better, no doubt.” She sniffed. “And
you wonder why I did not tell you.”

She seemed to have it
all worked out, he thought dully.

She thumped her fist
on the table.

“Well, I won’t have
it. Do you hear me, Magnus? As soon as this frightful war is over I will go
back there myself and search until I have found him. Do you understand? And I
will bring him home and we will be a family. I do love you, Magnus, but if you
do not like it, you can… you can disown me!” She burst into tears and fled the room.

Magnus sat there,
unmoving, his face stiff and hard. So that was what she thought of him, was it?
That he would be so shocked by a bastard half-brother, an unknown bastard half-brother
who meant more to her than… and that he valued his family name more than… You
can disown me. The choice she expected him to make.

Yes, her news had
come as a surprise to him. What man would not be shocked? But he had said
nothing, nothing to make her think… She certainly seemed to feel she understood
him well enough to predict his reaction. She’d been judge, jury and
executioner.

Would he have
predicted her reaction with such complete and utter certainty? Yes, he realised
ruefully. His wife was nothing if not predictable. She was loyal and loving. It
was not in her to turn her back on anyone who needed her —not a bastard half-brother.
Not even a cold-hearted earl. She still claimed to love him. He still found the
notion terrifying even though he had come to depend on it utterly for his
happiness.

Happiness. Six months
ago happiness had been a foreign concept to Lord d’Arenville of d’Arenville
Hall. As had love. He loved his wife. He recognised the truth of it now. He
loved her, loved Tallie, with an intensity that rocked him to his soul. And he
had no way, no words with which to tell her.

The words sounded
easy enough, simple enough to say.

The words came to
others so easily —a lie to smooth a path, to get a diamond necklace, to
flatter, to deceive. He had never been able to utter the lie before. Had never
expected to wish to…

But now he loved her.

And he could not say
the words.

She wouldn’t believe
him anyway, he decided. Not after what she had just revealed. She thought him a
cold, proud man, who cared only for his family name. Her reading of his
character had shocked him, hurt him. Because there was an element of truth. She
expected him to disown her bastard half-brother and to force her to do the
same. And six months ago, before he had met her, he might have. Six months ago he
would have had every expectation that a wife of his would no more acknowledge a
foreign-born bastard half-brother than walk naked down St. James’s Street. But
that was six months ago.

A great deal had
changed in six months —not the least Lord d’Arenville.

Magnus drained the
tankard of ale at his elbow and called for another.

He knew what he had
to do.

“That is d’Arenville
Hall?” Tallie peered out of the coach window, looking up at the imposing
edifice with some trepidation. It was enormous. A great grey building, heavy
with carved, ancient stonework, glittering mullioned windows the only sign of
life.

“Your future home, my
lady,” murmured Magnus behind her.

Tallie blinked. She
could not imagine herself as mistress of such an impressive establishment. And
as for a small boy who’d been raised by Italian peasants. “It… it’s very grand,”
she said at last, casting him a quick glance.

He still had that…
that stony look on his face. He hadn’t forgiven her for her outburst yet.

He seemed deeply
offended by her desire to provide a home for her brother. It upset Tallie to
think of it, and she was distressed by his coldness towards her, but she had
resolved not to give in to him on this. Her husband would have to learn to
accept that at times she could be just as stubborn as he.

And if she couldn’t
go into raptures about his home she was sorry. It was very difficult to
manufacture delight she didn’t feel, especially difficult when he kept looking
at her like that.

It was her fault, she
knew. She had annoyed him with her defiance, and he was punishing her with his
stiff and starchy manner. But now that they’d finally arrived at her husband’s
home she would have the opportunity to mend their differences. Hopefully they
would share a bed once more. Their differences had a better chance of being
sorted out there, in her experience. Tallie sighed. It had been a long time.

She’d had to share
her ship’s cabin with three other ladies. She missed him in her bed most
dreadfully, missed the comfort of waking in the night, feeling his warm body
beside hers, hearing his deep, even breathing. It was lonely in bed without
him. And since their quarrel she felt lonelier than ever.

The coach drew up on
the curved, immaculately raked gravel drive and a string of servants poured
from the house and lined up.

“The butler’s name is
Harris and Mrs. Cobb is the housekeeper. They will take their instructions from
you,” said Magnus gravely. He moved solemnly forward, introducing this servant
or that. It was all horribly formal, Tallie thought, as she received yet another
bow and curtsy. She walked into the huge marble entry hall. Her steps echoed and
she shivered.

“Are you cold?”
Magnus enquired with cool solicitude. “Harris, please show Lady d’Arenville
into the Brown Room. I presume you’ve lit a fire?”

Harris bowed.

“Yes, of course, my
lord. This way, my lady.”

Tallie was ushered to
the Brown Room. It was enormous and gloomy, for the windows were shrouded with
heavy brown velvet curtains. The room was stuffed with large, ornate, heavy
items of furniture. Tallie wrinkled her nose. Everything upholstered in the
same horrid dark brown. She wandered over to the fire, having to step around no
fewer than three occasional tables, two embroidered fire screens and a settee.
The room was immaculately clean, but she felt stifled. She thought instantly of
the little peasant cottage in the mountains of Piedmonte and its cosy
simplicity. She pushed the thought out of her mind with a pang of regret. There
was no use in her worrying about her brother just now. This was her new home and
she needed to accustom herself to the fact. Besides, she had fences to mend
with her husband.

A few minutes later
Magnus entered, followed by Mrs. Cobb, the housekeeper.

“Are you warm now?”
he asked. Tallie nodded. “Then Mrs. Cobb will show you to your room. You will
wish to rest. I’ve ordered a tray sent up for your dinner,” he informed her.

No, Tallie wanted to
cry, I do not wish to rest. I want you to show me your home and introduce me to
all your favourite haunts. I want you to tell me stories of when you were a
little boy growing up here, so that I may learn to love this hideous mausoleum.
I want things to be normal between us again.

But she could not
bring herself to say it. This Magnus was not her beloved Magnus; this was Lord
d’Arenville of d’Arenville Hall, very cold and formal, and she did not yet know
how to deal with him. Tallie followed the housekeeper dolefully. She did not
like the sound of your room. She hoped she had misheard Magnus; she hoped she
was being taken to our room.