Jo Beverley - [Rogue ] (11 page)

She indicated two doors on either side of the room. "That one is the master's dressing room and this one is yours, ma'am. It's rather bleak, not having been much used." The woman's face tightened as she realized she had made a
faux-pas
, but Eleanor ignored it.

"I will enjoy decorating it to my taste, Mrs. Hollygirt."

The older woman hurried through to another unfurnished bedroom, totally out of character with the parts of the house Eleanor had seen so far. Though not dissimilar to the master bedroom in size and shape, it was made horrible by walls, curtains, and carpet in sickly shades of pink, green, and cream.

"Oh," was all Eleanor could think to say when faced by this bilious vision.

"This room, the nurseries, two other bedrooms, and the drawing room haven't been touched since Mr. Delaney bought the house, ma'am. They are as the previous owners left them. No doubt you will wish to have them redecorated." There was a clear implication that if she didn't, she had no right to be mistress of the house.

"Oh yes, indeed," said Eleanor. "It will be one of my first tasks. Let us leave."

Eleanor had to fight back a grin. She was delighted there were shortcomings to be overcome. This was her home, hers to do with as she wished. She wondered how much money she would be allowed to spend and how she could find out. With a frown, she supposed it would depend on Lord Stainbridge's generosity. Not a pleasant situation.

Back in her dressing room, Eleanor found her few pieces of luggage had been brought up and a maid was carefully putting away her garments.

Mrs. Hollygirt indicated the girl. "This is Jenny, ma'am. She's a good girl, if inclined to chatter. She could serve as your maid for the time being, if you would wish. I understand you haven't brought a maid from abroad."

Eleanor graciously acquiesced to this, noting that the Hollygirts were not in her husband's confidence and that the maid had gone pink with pleasure at her promotion. She then thanked the housekeeper and asked for hot water. This rid her of both her attendants and left her alone in the room "not much used."

She wondered what sort of women Nicholas Delaney had brought here in the past. Doubtless very special women. He had obviously directed the redecoration of this house. If it had all previously matched her bedroom, it had taken a special gift to see through the frills and sickly colors to the classical beauty beneath. A man of taste and discernment, strangely at odds with his reputation for wildness and his obvious fondness for loose women.

No matter how she might try to concentrate on his shortcomings, Eleanor was only too aware of her own. At twenty-two she was already past her youth, and she had never been a beauty. Her regular features had sometimes caused her to be called handsome, but she knew she had no remarkable feature except her wealth of hair, and long hair was not in fashion. She had no particular wit, no artistic talents, and an indifferent education. She felt tired, depressed, and in despair.

This was no good. If nothing else, she was a fighter. In a determined attempt to think more positively she stood before the long mirror to assess her points. Her hair, yes. That she could count on. Thick and wavy, it fell to her waist when released.

What had he said? "I never could resist hair such as yours."

Her figure was well proportioned, full and rounded. It would do well enough if he did not favor willowy maidens. It was not shown to advantage, however, by her gray traveling dress. It had been bought for the sober widow, Mrs. Childsley, by Lord Stainbridge's minion. The outfit was designed, Eleanor thought bleakly, for a lady past the first flush of youth and given to charitable works. It was not at all suitable for a new wife with a fascinating husband...

What did she think she was doing? Probably the last thing Nicholas Delaney wanted was a wife who worried as to whether her clothes or her body pleased him. A short while together and then he would be off on his travels, leaving her here, free.

Free.

A few weeks ago it had been her fervent prayer. Now, try as she might, Eleanor could not make this into a heartening prospect. Her thoughts were interrupted by the maid with the jug of hot water.

Eleanor washed and pointed out a blue wool gown. Another "Mrs. Childsley" item. At least the color suited her. "Will it need pressing, Jenny?"

"This one, ma'am? I don't think so..." The girl went pink. "But it wouldn't take a moment..."

Eleanor calmed her, glad someone else was as nervous as she. "Let me see. No, it will do very well."

She gently directed the maid and soon her toilet was accomplished. When she looked hopefully in the mirror, however, Mrs. Childsley looked back.

Eleanor shrugged and thanked the girl, adding idly, "Have you much experience as a lady's maid, Jenny?"

Jenny went red. "Oh well, ma'am. Once or twice, for guests like."

Eleanor could guess what kinds of guests, but it gave her an idea. "Could you dress my hair, Jenny?"

The maid brightened eagerly. "Oh yes, ma'am. I can do simple styles. I've learnt all I can, for I hope to be a lady's maid one day."

When Eleanor's braid was let down and unraveled, Jenny gasped and set to work to brush it with long strokes. But she soon had to confess that she didn't know how to put it into a fashionable style unless it was cropped and curled. In the end she replaited it and arranged the thick braids in a coronet on top with long tendrils, curled with an iron, hanging down to her neck. It was an attractive style but unfashionable. Eleanor wondered if she should have her hair cut.

She was discussing this with Jenny when, after a knock, Nicholas came in.

"How like a woman," he said with a smile. "No sooner do I become accustomed to her than she transforms herself entirely." He tweaked one trailing glossy curl, and Eleanor knew she was blushing. She only hoped she did so prettily. "You are doubtless thinking of a coiffeur," he continued, "but I do much prefer long hair."

Disregarding the presence of the maid he dropped a light kiss on Eleanor's neck. "I have to go out, my dear, just for a little while. Among other things, I must pay a visit to your brother. He will not bother you again. I will be in for dinner." With that he was gone.

Eleanor and Jenny looked at each other and smiled. "No crop," Eleanor said with resignation, though she was pleased not have to part with her hair. "Jenny, I depend upon you to think up ways to dress this mop of mine. If you continue as well as you have begun, I see no reason you should not be my maid."

When she left the room the maid was still standing with an enormous smile on her mouth, and Eleanor had discovered the delight of giving pleasure to others.

As dinner would be within two hours Eleanor took only tea as she worked hard at accustoming herself to being the mistress of this well-run establishment. The years of oppression under her brother had taken their toll, however, and she had to work up the nerve to ring the bell to summon Mrs. Hollygirt rather than going off in search of the lady. When the housekeeper presented herself, Eleanor requested a tour of the rest of the house.

As she had expected, everything was well run. Most rooms, like her bedchamber, needed redecorating, but otherwise it was an elegant residence.

Eleanor made arrangements to check the financial accounts weekly, hoping her husband wished her to undertake this duty, and then found herself in the library with nothing to do until the meal. Full of excitement over the house, she would have liked to have pored over drapery samples and design books, but there were none available.

Besides, without some idea of how much money would be made available, it would be foolish to make plans.

She turned instead to exploring the library shelves, partly because she loved books and partly in order to learn more about her fascinating husband.

The books were an intriguing mixture. There were works on travel and geography; texts in Latin, Greek, and in translation; all side by side with practical tomes on agriculture, engineering, and husbandry. As well as works in the classical languages, there were books in French, Spanish, Italian, and something she thought might be Portuguese. She wondered if her husband spoke all these languages. The books had a well-read look, but that might well be attributed to the previous owners. He could have bought a collection merely to fill his shelves.

She was surprised and delighted to find a shelf of modern novels and wondered if these were the taste of Nicholas's "guests." She would certainly make full use of them. One of the worst things about the months in Derby Square had been the lack of reading material other than newspapers. Perhaps there would be a copy of that interesting new novel,
Pride and Prejudice
, or Lord Byron's
The Giaour
.

She found neither, but there were enough other treasure to distract her. With greedy fingers she traced the spines of Camilla and
The Wanderer
by Frances Burney, and a group of Minerva novels.
The Demon of Sicily
sounded exciting, but
The Miraculous Nuptials
caught her eyes and she took it down.

As she went to sit and read Eleanor noticed a large portfolio upon the central table. Somewhat hesitantly she opened it, then gasped softly at what it contained—beautiful oriental prints such as she had never seen before. They were exquisite jewels of fresh color and graceful line, and she settled to study them, her novel forgotten.

After a while she closed the boards again and sat in thought. Those prints were not bought as a job lot. They were carefully acquired treasures.

What had such a nondescript person as herself to do with the owner of this house?

She remembered the marriage she and Lord Stainbridge had planned, one in which she would simply have to be conformable and bear children for a mostly absent husband. She had to admit that was no longer the marriage she wanted. Nicholas Delaney had truly entranced her, consciously or not. She was spellbound. She could imagine nothing more satisfying than to study him and warm herself at the fire of his spirit. She longed to learn from him the secret of life.

But then she sighed, the flash of excitement failing. Ashes do not burn. All she had to offer was that which she had contracted to give, but she could at least ensure he was not cheated of that. She would match him as best she could. She would strive to be a pleasant and undemanding companion when they were together, uncomplaining when they were apart. If he wished it, she would be a credit to him in Society, and above all she would build a life for herself so that when he wished to leave he would feel no remorse.

With a tightening of her stomach, she made another resolution. She would endeavor to respond to his lovemaking. It was hardly fair to expect him to handle her always like plaster lace.

The previous night, however, had not removed her fear. For one thing, she was aware that he had been careful. One day he would forget...

She realized her hands were clenched painfully tight. Slowly she relaxed them. This is what you must fight, Eleanor, my girl.

* * *

Nicholas Delaney had a brief interview with his new brother-in-law at his house in Derby Square and came away with a wry smile. He then went straight to a much more elegant mansion near Grosvenor Square, where he was soon shown into a richly appointed study and into the presence of a tall, broad-shouldered man of about fifty.

"Mr. Delaney," intoned the footman. Lord Melcham rose smiling to his feet.

"Delaney! It is indeed a pleasure to meet you, sir."

"And you, Lord Melcham," Nicholas said politely as he took a seat.

"The government is most grateful for the assistance you are giving us, young man."

Nicholas took the glass of sherry offered and commented, "I cannot say I have done anything as yet, though I have made contact with Madame Bellaire again, as instructed."

"Yes, I understand she crossed the Channel on the same packet as you. That was well done!"

Nicholas sipped the Amontillado. "Completely fortuitous, I confess, my lord. Personal business forced me to come home immediately. As it happens, I did not even know Therese was on the ship, but I did speak with her briefly in Newhaven."

The older man frowned. "Briefly? Would that not have been an excellent opportunity to reestablish your... er... relationship?"

Nicholas smiled down at his glass. "I was slightly hampered, sir, by the presence of my wife."

Lord Melcham stared. "Dammit, man. You're not married!"

"I am now. Very recently."

Lord Melcham jerked to his feet to pace the room, his color high and his strong jaw tight. "You're an irresponsible blackguard, Delaney! What do you mean by it? You had no thought of marriage a month back. How can you pursue this matter for us now?"

Nicholas's own features had tightened slightly under this attack, but his tone was level as he replied. "The reason for the marriage is my own business—"

"Ha! You dallied once too often and got caught!"

Nicholas's fingers tightened on his glass. "If you wish, sir. My marriage will not affect our plans. I will resume my liaison with Therese if she is willing. I should mention, however, that she had a young companion at Newhaven who appeared to be to her taste."

Lord Melcham turned on his guest the stern stare that had made subordinates quiver. "My information was that her affection for you in Vienna went very deep. I am sure you can rekindle it... if you put your mind to the matter."