A Wicked Deception (17 page)

“How do you feel?”
her hostess asked.

“Quite refreshed, thank you.”

“I’m glad.” A worried frown creased Ann’s pretty face.

“What is it? Has something happened?”

“Not really. I shouldn’t ask you this when I know how anxious you are to see Michael, but would you mind staying here a couple of extra days? My fool of a brother accepted an invitation to a ball tomorrow night and I’m expected to attend.”

“Sounds nice,
but why do you need me to stay? I’m already so far in your debt I’ll never be able to repay you.”

“I’d like you to come to the ball with us.”

“Me?” Melanie squeaked in surprise.

“Please, this will be my first introduction to society since Geoffrey died
. It terrifies me.”

Melanie
desperately wanted to see Michael, but after Ann’s kindness, how could she refuse? “I could come with you I suppose.” She nibbled one finger thoughtfully. “But what good will I be?”

“I
t would make me feel better. Peter can escort both of us. It’s a farewell ball for some officers going off to the Crimean War. If I didn’t attend now, how would it look? Yet I dread the thought. Most of the people will know Geoffrey – some might even be from his old regiment.”

“Of course I’ll come, but I don’t have anything to wear. I’m wearing your clothes as it is now
. Honestly, I feel dreadful.”

“There are several gowns I wore before my marriage when I was much slimmer
. Come to my room and choose whatever you like. If it needs altering, one of the maids can see to it.”

A ball. Her only attendance at such a function before had proved a total disaster
thanks to Tom Ogilvy and his distasteful attentions, yet how could she deny Ann this one small request?

Ann’s room was
situated three doors away from her own. Numerous pictures adorned the walls, and a large four-poster bed with yellow hangings, caught her attention briefly. The fireplace was riveting. It looked like a small shrine, with plaster statues of saints in the canopied niches. She gasped in admiration, and on hearing it Ann smiled.

“The fireplace is beautiful isn’t it?”

“Looks like it should be in a church. It seems well, religious.”

“That’s how I think of it, Melanie. I’m glad you’re here.”

Impulsively Melanie hugged her. “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had.”

Next they went to
the music room and Ann played some tunes on the piano. This charming room had curtains of French brocade drawn up into thick flounces. An eye-catching oval ceiling depicted various coats of arms.

A
nn showed her around the rest of the house in the afternoon, and Melanie couldn’t hide her amazement at the size of it. There were six staircases; men’s and women’s stairs in the servants’ wings, a back stairway, a family stairway leading up to the master bedroom suite, plus the main staircase which Ann explained was never used by servants unless they were cleaning them.

As she and Peter sipped tea in Ann’s private sitting room Melanie’s worry grew.
Everything seemed so alien to her. If this mansion was Peter’s house and they were not aristocracy, what would Greystones be like? Would Michael in his ancestral home, amongst his own kind, be any different? Fear churned inside her, supposing she didn’t measure up? What if his parents disliked her?

She must have turned pale
.

“My dear, what’s wrong?
Ann’s anxious query forced her to pull herself together. “I’ve been thinking about Michael, and whether being home would change him.”

“You’ll be seeing him in a few days. I’m sure he won’t have changed. Peter, if you have anything derogative to say about the Guilfords please keep it to yourself.”

“Oh, all right. You’re too pretty to be mooning over him.” He laughed when she blushed. “Tell me more about this Eureka Stockade rebellion, sounds exciting.”

She filled him in on the details, but when it came to the part where Robbie got shot, her hands trembled and her eyes filled with tears.
Oh Robbie, why did you have to
die?
So young and brave. It wasn’t fair. Had he thrown his life away for nothing? In a few years time would people remember his sacrifice?
I will
, she vowed fiercely
. I’ll carry your memory to the grave.

***

On the night of the ball Melanie felt quite regal in a white taffeta, off the shoulder gown. It belled out over many petticoats to emphasize the flounces that were trimmed with silver thread. Peter wore a dark evening suit, while Ann was dressed in black silk.

A carriage driven by liveried footmen set them down in front of what Ann described as a modern country house.
Entering the ballroom where a dance was well in progress, she tried not to gasp at the large chandeliers formed like sunrays. The dome above them appeared to be filled with mirrors.

A sea of people surged around, ladies in beautiful gowns, men in evening wear, and soldiers wearing the brightly
colored uniforms of their various regiments.

She had no time to ponder further on the splendor because a young officer claimed her for a waltz. Bruce Lawrence was in the Hussars who, like the Lancers and Light Dragoons, wore blue.
“The heavy Dragoons are the ones wearing scarlet jackets,” he explained with a smile. From the corner of her eye she saw Ann dancing with Peter.

A
n air of excitement prevailed, not only among the young men leaving for the war, either. She didn’t sit out even one dance, as there were many more unattached young men than women.

“
The mansion belongs to a middle-aged countess,” Peter scathingly commented. “Her husband, the late Count, was more than thirty years older than her. She only married the old fool for his money and title. Rumor has it he was one of the richest men in England.”

Melanie liked gossip as much as the next person, but Peter seemed quite malicious,
especially after accepting this woman’s hospitality.

A break in the dancing had Bruce, the young officer she had first danced with leading her off the floor. “Would you care for some fruit punch, Miss O’Dea?”

“Yes, thank you, I do feel rather warm.”

“Don’t go away, will you
? I’ve already shared you enough with those other chaps.”

While she waited a distinguished man made an announcement. “The Countess has instructed me to
inform all her friends that she is now officially betrothed to the Honorable Michael Guilford, only son of Lord and Lady Guilford of Greystones.”

Not true! Lies! How dare that man speak such a falsehood! Yet t
he words still sucked the blood out of Melanie’s veins. Her head spun. Why had she so recklessly consumed all that champagne? She wasn’t drunk. Dear God. She watched in a daze as Michael strode to a raised platform and brought the hand of the smiling Countess to his lips.

A platoon of drummers bashed away inside her head
. She felt dizzy with the effort not to crumple on the floor in a screaming heap. Michael had lied, had defiled her body and betrayed her in the most heinous manner.

He suddenly raised his head
. He must have seen her because the color slowly bled from his face. She watched like a mesmerized rabbit as his skin turned a sickly grey. His eyes blazed momentarily before he turned his head away.

She staggered out on to a terraced lawn area leading to a glassed-in conservatory
, and huddled amongst exotic shrubs and potted plants. The hurt and betrayal stabbed so deep she wondered why it didn’t draw blood. She gasped for breath. Her rib cage felt like it had collapsed around her lungs, constricting her breathing. Had someone come along and plunged a dagger through her heart she would have rejoiced.

Voices coming from outside the conservatory made her c
ower deeper into the shadows.

“What a lucky beggar old Gill is,” a young man’s over affected voice floated clearly on the night air. “They say he could be in line for a knighthood for helping the military in some
colonial rebellion. What did they call it?”

“
Eureka something or other.”

They were
discussing the Eureka Stockade! This on top of Michael’s betrayal with the Countess! Her legs buckled and she made a desperate grab at a huge pot plant, clinging to it as if her life depended on it.

“Who couldn’t spy on a few illiterate miners, if
….” The voices faded as they walked away, and strain her ears as she might, she heard no more. A man called Gill inside this very house had betrayed Robbie and his friends. Maybe she had stood close to him, danced with him even. The thought filled her with revulsion. She couldn’t move her paralyzed legs.

“Melanie, where are you?”

The voice sounded like Michael’s. “Answer me! I know you’re out there somewhere. I can explain. Things are not as they seem. Please, my darling.”

He was in the conservatory now
. Life tingled back into her limbs. She pressed further back into the shadows causing a pot plant to fall off its stand with a loud crash.

“Melanie.”

“Go away. I hate you.” Tears rolled down her cheeks in hot rivulets. “You abandoned me at the docks. Didn’t care whether Douglas caught me or not.”

He dragged her into his arms, holding her tight with sheer brute strength. “You’re upset, and you have every right to be
. Please hear me out, I beg of you. I do love you. We will be married. I didn’t lie. When I realized the ship was preparing to sail I pleaded with the Captain to put me off, but to no avail. I didn’t want to leave you, I swear, on my word of honor. I….”

She cut him off.
“You’ve just announced your betrothal to the Countess and she’s so old, fifty at least.”

“Give me a chance. I’ll explain everything. We can sort this out
. Please give me a chance. I still want us to be married.”

“How can you marry me and the Countess?”
She struggled to push him away, but he held her firmly.

“It’s only a temporary
betrothal.” His hands moving across her back molded her body close. “Isabella needs an, um, well there’s a certain persistent gentleman’s attention she wants diverted. The betrothal isn’t for real. You were in Australia, so I thought you wouldn’t be hurt. I planned to send for you as soon as I could.”

“Liar.”
She spat the word as if it might enter his heart and kill him.

“It’s true
. I could give you proof if you gave me a chance.”

Common sense told her not to believe his ridiculous story, but her heart desperately wanted to. “How?”

“I have a signed paper from the Countess saying she’ll make no claim on me, that it’s only a temporary betrothal.”

“Why did it have to be you to help
? Surely there was someone else?”

“She’s a
n extremely wealthy woman.”

“You did it for money?” She stiffened
in his arms. Clenching her fists she wanted to hit him hard, pummel him to pieces.

“Yes.” He held her firmly. “Not for myself, for Greystones.”

“You did it for your house?”

“I know it’s hard for you to understand. Greystones has been in my
family for generations. Unfortunately, my father made some foolish investments and lost a lot of money. He’s mortgaged everything, including the house. How could I let my parents be turned out into the street? The servants had to be considered, the tenant farmers looked after. You can’t imagine what a terrible position I found myself in. Isabella offered to clear all our debts if I acted out this charade for a short time.”

“It doesn’t sound honest.” His mouth closing over hers cut off the rest of the sentence. When at last the kiss finished her head spun and she trembled with emotion.

“Now, my darling girl, tell me how you came to England? I was going to send Charles a bank draft to pay for your fare here. Where are you staying?”

“I came over as companion to a lovely lady called Ann
. Charles arranged it.”

“Good old Charles.”

“I can’t keep imposing on Ann and her brother Peter. It isn’t fair.”

“Of course not
, I’ll reimburse them for your fare, your lodgings also.”

“Ann loaned me some of her clothes
. She’s been so kind. I’m a stranger really. I feel terrible about abusing her hospitality by staying so long.”

“You must come to Greystones so I can
care for you.”

“Everything will be all right now, won’t it?” She stroked the smooth planes of his cheeks. “Can we get married soon?”

She picked up his barely perceptible hesitation. “Yes, but you must meet my parents first. They’ll want to discuss the wedding arrangements with you. I’ll come for you tomorrow afternoon and take you to Greystones. Now I must return inside. Wait a few moments before following and if my behavior seems strange, well, I must pay some attention to Isabella.”