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luxurious carriage to carry Lucy to the north country. She had never travelled in such style, and as the elegant equipage bowled out of London she was forced to admit that there was something to be said for being betrothed to a rich man.
Two weeks had passed since that second visit to Mrs Killinghurst’s registry office. Lucy had signed her contract and stepped back into New Bond Street with a thick roll of banknotes in her reticule, her new employer requesting her to buy whatever was necessary for her journey to Adversane. He had also given her the name of a very exclusive modiste and told her she might order anything she wished and have it charged to his account.
Lucy had felt compelled to question this.
‘Forgive me, but if your wife is—that is, if you have been a widower for two years, will you still have an account?’
‘Oh, my wife never bought anything from Celeste.’
Lucy had blushed hotly at the implication of his careless response, and had immediately given him back his card. He had grinned at that, giving Lucy the unsettling feeling that he was teasing her.
‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘There is a very good dressmaker near Adversane who will provide you with everything you need for the duration of your stay. I shall arrange for her to call on you once you are settled in.’
Recalling the incident, she wondered again if she had been wise to accept employment with a stranger and in a house so far away from everyone and everything she knew. She had looked out her uncle’s copy of The New Peerage and learned that Ralph Adversane was the fifth baron, that he owned several properties, his principal seat being Adversane Hall, in Yorkshire. There was no mention of a wife, but she knew this edition of the Peerage was at least five years old, so presumably the marriage had taken place after that date.
Discreet enquiries of her family had brought forth very little information. Her aunt, who was an avid reader of the Court and Society pages, admitted she had heard of Lord Adversane, but it appeared he was an infrequent visitor to London, or at least, thought Lucy, to those circles that warranted a mention in the newspapers, even if he was well known in less respectable circles, whose ladies patronised a certain expensive modiste. She must therefore trust to Mrs Killinghurst’s assurance that she made thorough enquiries into the veracity of every client who came to her.
However, just as a precaution, Lucy had kept back some of the money Lord Adversane had given her and stitched it into the hem of her cloak. It was not a lot, but sufficient to pay for her journey back to London, and knowing that she had a means of escape should she need it, she now settled back against the comfortable squabs of the travelling carriage and prepared to enjoy herself.
* * *
Lord Adversane was waiting for her when she arrived at his country seat. He was dressed very much as she had last seen him, in blue coat and buckskins, and as the coach drew up on the sweeping drive he strode across to open the door and hand her down.
‘Welcome, Miss Halbrook. How was your journey?’
‘Extremely entertaining.’ Lucy gave a little gurgle of laughter at his look of surprise, her head still buzzing with the excitement of all the new sights and sounds she had experienced. ‘I have never before been farther north than Hertfordshire, you see, so it was an adventure. Of course, I doubt I would have enjoyed it so much if it had not been undertaken in a fast and comfortable vehicle, with your servants to take care of everything for me, and overnight stops arranged at the very best coaching inns. I am very grateful to you for your solicitude, my lord.’
‘I could do nothing less for my future wife.’
Lucy blushed, but quickly realised that his words were for the benefit of the servants, as was the kiss he bestowed upon her fingers. After all, if this charade was to work then everyone must believe it.
Collecting her thoughts, she stood for a moment looking up at the house. It was a very large building in the Jacobean style with stone transom and mullion windows set between diapered red brickwork. Her first impression was that it had a frowning aspect, but she put this down to the overcast day and the fact that they were standing on the drive and the house appeared to tower over them. Her eyes moved to the stone pediment above the entrance, which framed an intricately carved cartouche.
‘The Adversane coat of arms,’ he said, following her glance. ‘The house was built for the first Baron Adversane at the time of the Restoration.’
Still buzzing with the excitement of the journey, Lucy could not resist giving voice to a mischievous thought.
‘And will the shades of your illustrious ancestors approve of me?’
‘I have no idea. Shall we go in?’
Chastened by his stony retort, Lucy allowed him to escort her into the house. The butler was waiting for them in the entrance passage with a line of servants, all of whom bowed or curtseyed as Lord Adversane led her past them.
‘Byrne will not introduce them to you today,’ he said as he took her into the Great Hall. ‘You are here ostensibly as a guest, but of course they all know we are betrothed because I mentioned it to my cousin in front of the housekeeper. Come along and meet her. She is waiting in the drawing room.’
‘The housekeeper?’ asked Lucy, suddenly quite daunted by the grandeur of her surroundings.
‘My cousin, Mrs Dean.’
There was no mistaking the impatience in his voice, and Lucy gave herself a mental shake. It was too late now for second thoughts. She must concentrate upon her new role.
* * *
Ralph swore silently, ashamed of his own ill humour. Perhaps it was understandable that he should be on edge, knowing how important it was that the girl fulfil her role to perfection, but surely he did not need to be quite so serious? He gave an inward sigh. How long had it been since anyone had teased him? Even his sisters rarely did so now. Since Helene’s death they had treated him with more sympathy than he deserved. After all it was not as if he had loved his wife. He had cared for her, yes, but the strain of living with such a nervous, timid creature, of watching his every utterance, curbing every impatient remark, had taken its toll. He had forgotten what it was like to laugh...
He escorted Miss Halbrook into the drawing room where his cousin was busy filling a teapot from a spirit kettle.
‘Ah, there you are, Ralph. And this must be our guest.’ Ariadne carefully set down the teapot and came forwards to greet them. As she approached she fixed her rather myopic gaze upon Lucy, frowned a little then turned a puzzled look upon him. He spoke quickly, before she could voice her thoughts.
‘It is indeed, Cousin.’ He added quietly, ‘I thought it best to tell Mrs Dean the truth, Miss Halbrook. She will introduce you to everyone as a young friend who is spending a few weeks with her, but in reality everyone will believe that you are my fiancée, is that not so, Cousin?’
He was relieved to see Ariadne’s frown clear as she took Miss Halbrook’s hands.
Lucy. He must get used to calling her Lucy.
‘Oh, indeed. You know how quickly gossip spreads in the country, my dear. Now, before we go any further I should tell you that I am so pleased my cousin has asked me to help him with this.’
He smiled. ‘I persuaded Ariadne to leave her comfortable little house in Bath and join me for the summer.’
‘There is very little persuasion needed to bring me to Adversane, Cousin, and you know it.’ Mrs Dean chuckled. She pulled Lucy close and kissed her cheek. ‘Welcome, my dear. Ralph has indeed told me all about it, although I really do not see—but there, it will be a pleasure to have this house filled with people again.’
Lucy relaxed in the face of such a friendly welcome. Mrs Dean led her over to a sofa and gently pushed her down onto the seat, chattering all the time.
‘Now, my dear, I have prepared some tea, if you would like it. I find it very restorative after a long journey. You have come all the way from London, Ralph tells me—more than