The player rockliffe boo.., p.33
The Player (Rockliffe Book 3), page 33
‘No,’ she sighed. ‘You can’t. Anyone else – but not you. Do you honestly think that, after Lady B’s pearls and Mr Bailes and Betsy, I don’t know that?’
He shrugged slightly, looking a little embarrassed.
‘Don’t you want to argue about it?’
‘No. I want to know what you’re going to do.’
‘Thank you.’
He reached across to take her hands and lift each in turn to his lips. Smiling a little, Caroline wondered if he had any idea how very Claude Duvall the gesture was.
‘I’ll do as much as I can. I own the mortgages on two of his properties. The interest on both is significantly in arrears so I’ll foreclose, sell them and use the proceeds to pay off as many of the smaller creditors as I can. The debt to Sinclair’s will come out of my own pocket.’ He stopped, his fingers tightening on hers and, looking her in the eye, said, ‘My pocket, Caroline. I’m only telling you all this because, as my wife, you have a right to know. I have no intention of touching your grandfather’s money. That wouldn’t be appropriate. Besides … I want the gentleman to like me.’
‘I don’t think you need worry about that,’ she said. ‘I, on the other hand, am beginning to realise that I’ve married a very stubborn fellow. What am I going to do with you?’
He sent her a slanting smile of pure invitation.
‘I don’t know. But I could suggest a few things, if you like.’
* * *
They arrived at Wynstanton Priors in the early afternoon to be greeted on the front steps by Lord Nicholas who had ridden on ahead.
‘How is the Duchess?’ asked Caroline immediately.
‘She’s fine,’ he replied with a laugh. ‘Apparently Rock arrived home to find her drinking coffee and working her way through a plate of macaroons. She swears she started feeling better the instant he stopped looming over her.’
‘Oh, that’s splendid news! His Grace must be so relieved.’
‘He’s back to being his usual annoying self, if that’s what you mean,’ said Nicholas, ushering them inside. ‘How’s the shoulder, Dev?’
‘Still a little stiff – but otherwise, nearly as good as new.’
‘In that case, you can come riding with me in the morning. There’s a filly for sale in Sittingbourne that I’ve a mind to buy.’
The Duke and Duchess rose from the fireside to greet them and his Grace made the necessary introductions. Caroline was surprised that, though every bit as elegant as Cassie had said, the Duchess was not a stunning beauty. But then Adeline smiled and took her hands … and she realised that perhaps her first impression had been overly-simplistic.
When they were all seated and tea had been brought, Rockliffe said, ‘Well, Adrian … Nicholas says you sent Sheringham packing. I imagine that cannot have been easy.’
‘In the end, it wasn’t as difficult as I expected,’ came the faintly guarded reply. ‘And I’m hoping that we have seen the last of him.’
‘No question of that,’ remarked Nicholas, reaching for another slice of cake. ‘There’s nothing left for him here other than disgrace and possibly prison. I sent a note to Aristide, by the way. I thought he’d like to know that the club is no longer under threat and that you’re still in one piece. Oh – I also passed on Rock’s suggestion that, if asked, he might give the impression that your wedding took place here at the Priors.’
‘Thank you. That would seem to cover everything.’ He looked at the Duchess and said, ‘It’s extremely good of you to involve yourself in our deception.’
Adeline laughed. ‘It might surprise you to know how much practice we’ve had. You are not the only couple whose wedding became fodder for the gossips.’ Rising, she said, ‘Lady Sarre … let me show you to your rooms. I’m sure you’d like to refresh yourself after your journey and I’d like the opportunity to indulge in a little feminine conversation. Unless I miss my guess, Nicholas is about to use your husband’s presence to renew his attempts to persuade Tracy to let him ride The Trojan – which is an argument he will never win and which I’m quite tired of hearing.’
As they climbed the stairs, Caroline said shyly, ‘I’m so glad you’re feeling better. His Grace was very worried.’
‘His Grace,’ replied Adeline serenely, ‘was beginning to drive me demented. And you should call him Rock, you know. Aside from myself, everyone does. Also, I understand you spent part of your wedding day helping him dig a bullet out of your husband. I imagine that must have been spectacularly awful.’
‘It was. But I should admit that his Grace – Rock – did all the digging. He was splendid.’
‘Yes. He always is.’ She opened a door. ‘Here we are. I hope you will find everything you need but, if not, don’t hesitate to ring. I gather you haven’t yet acquired a maid so I’ll send mine to help you dress for dinner, if you wish.’
‘That would be kind. Normally, I can manage by myself but Adrian has bought some new gowns that defeat me.’
The aquamarine gaze dwelled on her thoughtfully.
‘Tracy says his lordship is a very talented actor – which is a thing I’m having trouble believing. Is it true?’
‘Perfectly true.’ Caroline beamed and turned pink with pride. ‘He’s wonderful.’
‘Ah.’ Smiling a little at having learned what she wanted to know, Adeline turned to go. ‘Then I’ll hope that he may be coaxed into giving us a brief performance.’
‘I don’t think you’ll find him difficult to persuade, your Grace. To tell the truth, the difficulty is stopping him doing it.’
* * *
Later, when Rockliffe was alone with his wife, he said, ‘Well? What do you make of them?’
Adeline settled more comfortably into the curve of his arm.
‘It’s as you said. He’s very reserved – which makes it difficult to believe in the acting except that Caroline implied he frequently presents a façade. She, of course, is hopelessly in love with him … but what he feels is impossible to say.’
‘Quite – though I have my suspicions. However, being shot on his wedding day has probably … delayed a few things.’ He laced his fingers with hers and added, ‘If that’s so, he has all my sympathy.’
‘Yes. He would do. So I thought I might help with that.’
‘Dear me. Should I be alarmed?’
‘No. It’s very simple. Jeanne will help Caroline dress but be … unavailable … later. I’m sure Lord Sarre is capable of dealing with his wife’s laces.’ She smiled. ‘And, if he’s not, you can always give expert instruction.’
~ * * ~ * * ~
TWENTY-SIX
Reluctantly deciding that the gold, embroidered gown was probably unsuitable for what the Duchess had described as ‘a simple family dinner’, Caroline allowed Jeanne to lace her into the third of Adrian’s gifts. A deep, Nile-blue watered taffeta with a pearl-trimmed décolletage, it clung to her shoulders and waist and made her hair look the colour of honey.
Jeanne gave the skirt a final twitch, stepped back to inspect her handiwork and said, ‘That’s very nice, my lady. Perfect for you, if you don’t me saying.’
‘Thank you.’ Caroline smiled and couldn’t help adding, ‘My husband chose it.’
‘You’re lucky he has such good taste, then. Some gentlemen have no idea. Now … let’s see what we can do with your hair.’ She picked up a strand and let it slide through her fingers. ‘It’s very fine and almost straight … but there’s a great deal of it. Yes. Something simple but unusual, I think.’
By the time Adrian emerged from the adjoining room, wearing a coat of unadorned black brocade over a riotously-embroidered gold and scarlet vest, Caroline had been ready for ten minutes. But glimpsing an expression she’d never seen before, she said doubtfully, ‘You don’t like the gown? I think it’s beautiful.’
‘Now it is,’ he agreed, walking slowly towards her, his eyes oddly intent. ‘Now you’re wearing it.’
‘Oh.’ The dimple quivered into being and she said naively, ‘What a lovely thing to say.’
‘It’s true.’ Adrian suddenly realised that, though it was a joy seeing her suitably gowned, he’d arrived at the point where it wouldn’t matter if she was dressed in a sack. He said, ‘Your hair looks charming, too … but I’m afraid to touch it.’
Her breath caught. ‘Do you want to?’
‘Oh yes.’ He gave her a brief, dazzling smile. ‘But I think I’d better not. Not yet, anyway.’ And, offering her his arm, ‘Shall we go, my lady?’
* * *
Dinner was a pleasant affair and every bit as informal as the Duchess had promised. Then, after it, the gentlemen chose to take their port in the parlour with the ladies and Rockliffe said, ‘Far be it from me to expect you to sing for your supper, Adrian … but there will be no peace until Adeline has seen a sample of your theatrical talent. She believes me prone to exaggeration, you see.’
‘And you are,’ said his wife firmly. ‘But I’ll admit I’m curious, Lord Sarre. Tracy insists that your skills are quite unlike those we see at Drury Lane.’
‘I never saw you on the stage, either,’ remarked Nicholas. ‘But then, I don’t go to the play at all if I can help it. It’s just a lot of fellows waving their arms about and bellowing.’
‘That’s not what Adrian does,’ objected Caroline. And, to her husband, ‘Show them.’
Almost before anyone had time to register what was happening, Adrian somehow became a muscular fellow of military bark and bearing who spoke with an almost incomprehensible Scottish accent. For perhaps three minutes, he had Lord Nicholas standing to attention whilst he tore verbal strips off him as a “sorry excuse for a soldier”. Then the illusion dissolved and was recreated as a lisping, mincing Macaroni. Adeline laughingly handed him her fan and Nicholas groaned, ‘God – it’s Viscount Ansford.’
The fan dropped neatly back into the Duchess’s lap and the effeminate Viscount briefly became a gloomy Russian before turning into Count von Rainmayr. He leaned heavily on a poker in lieu of a cane and thanked Adeline with old-fashioned courtesy when she retrieved it after it slipped from his grasp. At some point, the Count’s eyes met those of the Duke and he gave the merest suggestion of a shrug. A gleam of amusement lit the night-dark eyes but Rockliffe said nothing.
After a few moments, Adrian straightened his back and replaced the poker. Glancing round at his audience, he said, ‘Enough?’
‘Just one more?’ pleaded Caroline, her face glowing with pleasure.
He looked at her, a small half-smile touching his mouth.
‘You have a specific request?’
‘Yes.’ She smiled back at him. ‘Please.’
‘Ah. I gather I’m to guess?’
‘Can’t you?’
‘Bien sûr, Madame.’ In the space of a heartbeat, Adrian relaxed his posture, altered the timbre of his voice and dropped seamlessly into Claude Duvall. ‘Since it appears I have been so careless as to forget my pistol, I cannot demand your money or your life, Monsieur le Duc. This is an embarrassment, you understand. So perhaps,’ he continued, swinging round to Adeline, ‘I will say instead, “Your money or your wife”.’ He bowed and held out a hand, ‘Come, Madam la Duchesse. Venez danser avec moi.’
‘I think not, Monsieur,’ she laughed. ‘You are a stranger – and, I suspect, a rogue.’
‘Of the very blackest, Madame,’ he agreed, cheerfully. ‘But if you will not dance, I must claim instead your jewels. As to my name,’ he glanced around, ‘does no one guess it?’
‘Claude Duvall,’ drawled Rockliffe. ‘The so-called gentleman highwayman, who danced with the wives before robbing the husbands and thus went from the scaffold into legend.’
‘Romantic as that sounds,’ said Adeline, ‘one can’t dance without music.’
Claude Duvall’s laughing grey eyes flew to Caroline’s brown ones.
‘And you, ma petite? What do you say to that?’
Smiling, she said softly, ‘There is always music. One has but to listen.’
‘Tout à fait. Come … tread a measure with me.’
Duvall drew her smoothly up into his arms. This time, however, instead of the swaying dance she remembered, he guided her into a slow, graceful turn before catching her close against his chest and whispering, ‘Our interval isn’t over, mignonne. It is only now beginning.’
And dropped a fleeting kiss on her lips before handing her back into her chair.
The Duke and Duchess of Rockliffe exchanged glances.
Baffled, Nicholas said, ‘A French highwayman? That’s an odd choice.’
‘Not at all,’ said Caroline, drowning in her husband’s eyes. ‘He’s a particular friend of mine.’
There was a small silence. Then, Rockliffe looked across at Adrian and said, ‘That breeds a suspicion I suspect I would prefer not to have verified. But if you plan to adopt mundane respectability at any point, I’d recommend that you do it sooner rather than later. Meanwhile … more port, anyone?’
* * *
By the time Adrian appeared, Caroline had managed to unpin her hair and was starting to loosen the parts of it that Jeanne had braided. Catching sight of her husband in the mirror, she was immediately aware that he had shed both coat and vest and, for the first time ever, was standing there in his shirtsleeves. She swallowed hard, wondering if he knew how well it suited him … and why he was lurking, with apparent nonchalance, in the doorway.
She said, ‘I thought you’d sit talking with the Duke and Lord Nicholas for hours yet.’
‘Nick wanted me to play cards.’
‘Oh. Perhaps you should just tell him why you won’t?’
‘I did. Thanks to Rockliffe, he wasn’t as surprised as he should have been.’ He shifted his shoulders against the door-frame, hesitated for a moment and then said, ‘Would it be all right if I came in?’
Caroline’s hands dropped from her hair and she turned to face him.
‘Of course it’s all right. Why are you asking?’
Because I’m totally out of my depth and likely to do something crass.
‘In order not to appear presumptuous.’ He crossed the room towards her and, reaching out, took one of the long, plaited strands in his fingers. ‘May I?’
Startled but pleased and suddenly a little shy, she nodded.
Adrian began gently unplaiting and smoothing with slow deliberate hands. He said conversationally, ‘Have I ever mentioned that your hair is beautiful?’
‘Not in so many words.’ She strove for something else to say and added, ‘It’s too long.’
‘Only a woman would say that.’ He smiled at her in the mirror. ‘No man ever would.’
‘Really?’
‘Really. A man would only think of losing himself in the scent and silk of it.’
A wholly unexpected tremor shot along her nerves and a pulse throbbed, just once, deep in her body. She said, ‘A man … such as yourself, for example?’
‘Yes.’ Adrian combed his fingers through the loosened plait, enjoying the way it rippled and aware that her breathing had changed. He moved on to the next braid and said in a tone wholly devoid of expression, ‘Why did you want me to do Claude Duvall?’
‘I just … I think I just wanted to meet him again.’
‘I see.’ He gave the merest suggestion of a shrug. ‘He’s very charming, of course. And light-hearted and … uncomplicated.’
Unlike myself. The words remained unspoken but Caroline heard them nonetheless.
Meeting his eyes in the mirror, she said, ‘Yes, he is. He’s exactly the sort of romantic, not-quite-a-hero to make a girl sigh. I should know, after all.’ She managed a faintly self-deprecating smile and then added, ‘But that’s not why I wanted to see him.’
‘No?’
‘No. I haven’t any secret, lingering regrets, if that’s what you thought.’
‘I … wondered.’
‘You need not. Ever. Claude Duvall was wildly attractive and I’m not sorry I met him. But he pales into insignificance beside Adrian Devereux – who is every bit as attractive but also possesses a myriad of other incredible qualities. No woman fortunate enough to know Adrian would have chosen Claude. In fact, I don’t believe that any woman fortunate enough to know Adrian would look twice at any other man at all.’
A hint of colour crept along his cheekbones.
‘That’s more than I deserve.’
She rose from the stool and turned to lay a hand against his cheek.
‘No. It’s a good deal less than you deserve.’ Her heart was beating erratically fast but she knew that if she did not say this now, she never would. ‘I love you. I love your honesty, your unfailing kindness and the fact that – though you’ve had precious little of it yourself or perhaps because of that – you have a passion for justice. I think you are the most remarkable man I’ve ever met and utterly beautiful, both in body and spirit. And your smile doesn’t just make me sigh, Adrian. It steals my breath and lights the world.’
‘Oh God.’ His arms went around her and he hid his face against her hair. For a long time, he remained silent but eventually, in muffled accents, he said, ‘I never expected … that is to say, I hoped, of course … but, after everything, I didn’t think you would …’ He groaned. ‘Listen to me – not even able to manage a whole sentence. I sound like an imbecile. It’s just that I can’t … that there are things I can’t seem to get right without acting. That’s how I manage, you see. How I’ve managed for a long time … because it’s easier.’
‘I know. It’s all right.’
‘No it isn’t. I don’t want to do that – particularly not with you. I want us to build a life together and for every part of it to be real. But I’m not good at simply being myself. I know that sounds ridiculous but --’
‘It doesn’t. And you’re a lot better at it than you think.’
‘Thanks to you, I’m learning. And if I make mistakes, it won’t be because I don’t try.’ He lifted his head and looked down at her. ‘On our wedding day, after Rock got Marcus’s bullet out of me, I recall promising to ask you something.’
