Read Make-Believe Wife Online

Authors: Anne Herries

Make-Believe Wife (7 page)

‘I do not think it. You are everything Grandfather asked me to provide in the woman that I intend to marry, Roxanne. Charming, good mannered and conscientious—what more could he want in a wife for me? Besides, if he does not approve that will end it. I shall bow to his judgement, take you to Bath and make sure you have all you need to live in comfort for the rest of your life.'

Roxanne gazed at him in silence for a moment. Sofia's voice was in her head, warning her to be careful. Was he merely trying to deceive her into an illicit entanglement? No, no, she believed he had a true concern for his grandfather.

‘You are quite sure you wish to do this?'

‘I have given the idea more thought since I left you with Mrs Mills. She has served my family all her life and her opinion of you has confirmed mine. You may have lived in the company of travelling players for a few years, but before that you were strictly reared. I had wondered if I should need to teach you how to behave in society, but you know instinctively. Do this for me, Roxanne. Please, help me to make Grandfather's last days more content. Afterwards, you will be free to live your own life.'

‘Supposing he lives much longer than you expect?'

Luke gave her a thoughtful look. ‘You may have to marry me. I know it isn't what you want—but it would
be temporary, and in time you could live your own life. We could have the marriage annulled and you would still be young enough to marry again.'

It would be like an acting contract with a theatre manager. She would play a part for some months, perhaps longer, and then move on. Easy enough, perhaps, yet supposing her emotions became involved?

‘An engagement is easily broken but…' Roxanne hesitated, then, ‘Marriage is a last resort and only if it becomes impossible to prolong the engagement. It cannot be what you wish for?'

‘I have no wish to marry, but it would be a business arrangement, nothing more. I enjoy my life the way it is—but for Grandfather's sake I am prepared to play a game of make believe.'

‘It is really just a part I must play, but on a smaller stage and in private rather than public,' Roxanne said thoughtfully.

‘Yes, mostly in private—though I dare say Grandfather will give an occasional dinner for us.'

‘I can manage that,' Roxanne replied confidently. ‘Besides, your grandfather may think me unsuitable and then I can simply go away and disappear.'

‘Yes, exactly.' Luke stopped walking and looked into her eyes. ‘Will you do me the honour of wearing my ring for a time, Miss Roxanne?'

For a moment it felt as if he were truly proposing and her heart jerked, but then she saw the mischief in his eyes and smiled.

‘Yes, I shall do as you ask, sir. Just until you decide that you are ready to abandon the masquerade.'

‘Do not think of it as a masquerade. It is a gentleman's agreement between friends—a small deception for the best of reasons, do you not agree?'

‘I cannot disagree when you wish only to give an old man peace of mind—and to honour your commitments,' Roxanne said. For a moment she wondered where Mrs Fox came into his plans, but dismissed her doubts. ‘You will be my employer and may dismiss me when it pleases you.'

‘Please.' Luke made a rueful face. ‘You must not think of me in that way or it will show. I am Luke—the man you intend to marry.'

‘Yes, of course you are, dearest.' Her manner was light and teasing, exactly right for a woman who had just become engaged to the man she loves. Roxanne placed her hand playfully on his arm. ‘Do not be anxious, Luke. I shall not forget my part and let you down. The earl will have nothing to complain of in my manner or deportment.'

‘We must order you some more clothes and then we shall leave.' Luke smiled, his eyes thoughtful. ‘I am certain Grandfather will like you, but you must look the part. Tomorrow I shall take you shopping. I intend to write to my grandfather and tell him that I shall be bringing a young lady to meet him in one week from now.'

Chapter Four

‘Y
our belongings are strapped to the back of the carriage. Is there anything more you require before we leave, Roxanne?'

She thought of the two trunks packed with pretty gowns for all occasions, silk undergarments, stockings, shoes, slippers and gloves, besides several pretty bonnets. She had taken her pick of the wardrobe when acting in plays on their travels, but never had she seen so many beautiful clothes as Luke had so recklessly purchased for her. Too many by half and expensive, far more stylish than anything she'd ever worn before.

‘You have been most generous and I have all I need, thank you.'

‘Then we should go.' Luke offered his arm and they strolled towards the carriage. ‘I intend to ride most of the way, Roxanne. We shall stop one night on the road—and your new maid will meet us at the inn, where we stopped before.'

‘My maid?'

‘Yes, of course. A respectable young lady cannot travel without a maid. I sent word ahead and I am sure a maid will have been provided by the time we arrive. Grandfather would be shocked if we visited without one.'

‘What would he think if he should learn how we met?'

‘It will not happen. I met you at the house of a friend and we liked each other very well. You have consented to an engagement, but we are waiting for your father's permission to wed.'

Roxanne stifled her feelings of unease. ‘I pray you will not invent too many lies, sir, for I may forget them.'

‘We shall keep your story as simple as possible,' he promised. ‘You must expect some questions, Roxanne. Grandfather is bound to wonder why I have given into his request so tamely.'

‘You must endeavour to look as if you are in love, Luke,' she said and gave him a smile of positive wickedness. ‘Liking will not serve or he will sense a mystery. If you have resisted his plea thus far, he must be convinced of your sincerity or you may do more harm than good.'

‘You are very right,' Luke agreed and looked thoughtful. ‘Let us hope that I can play my part as well as I expect of you.'

‘Watch me often and look pleased or brooding,' she suggested and her mouth pouted at him. ‘It should not be beyond you, Luke. I dare say you have wooed
enough ladies to know how to court the love of your life.'

‘You have a wicked tongue,' Luke remarked and grinned. ‘Do not be afraid of Grandfather, Roxanne. I think his bark worse than his bite—besides, he should be happy to meet you. You are exactly what he has looked for.'

‘Let us hope that is the case. If not, you can apologise to him and take me away.'

‘He wants me married and an heir,' Luke said. ‘Play your part well and he will soon be eating from your hand, my love.'

‘Yes, that is better,' Roxanne approved. ‘You had the tone just right then. I was almost convinced myself.' She took off her smart leather glove, looking at the huge square emerald-and-diamond ring on her left hand. It was proof that she was truly caught up in this masquerade, pretending to be Luke's betrothed. ‘This is magnificent enough to convince anyone.'

‘I could not do less. Had I given you something paltry Grandfather would not have been fooled for an instant.'

‘Any jewels you lend me will of course be returned when we part,' Roxanne replied. ‘All I shall ask is a small income so that I can live quietly but respectably.'

‘Yes, well, as to that we shall see. That ring belongs to you, Roxanne, whatever may happen when we get to Hartingdon.' Luke helped her into the carriage and stepped back. ‘I shall be close by. Should you need to stop, you may tap the roof and the driver will oblige you.'

Roxanne sat back against the squabs and looked
out of the window. She had butterflies in her stomach, for the role she was about to play was important, far more demanding than anything she had accomplished before. If she failed, she would be letting Luke down and perhaps hurting a vulnerable old man.

She would not fail. Roxanne did not think she had come from Luke's class, but she was certain that she had been reared as a gentlewoman. Why had she run away from her home—and what had frightened her so much that she'd lost her memory?

It could not matter. Her engagement was merely make believe and intended to be a temporary arrangement.

 

Would the earl be fooled by their little charade? Luke wondered as he rode just behind the carriage. It was perfectly possible that he would throw them both out and disown his grandson, as he had threatened. That would be a deuced nuisance and the ensuing row would be messy and unpleasant. He could not let Beth Fox and her son Harry down. He had promised to support her for the rest of her life in comfort and would keep his promise, which meant he must fight for his income if forced. He would also need to keep his promise to Roxanne if things went wrong.

Luke wanted to avoid a quarrel if at all possible. He had no desire to be the cause of the earl's death—nor did he particularly wish to inherit a large and cumbersome estate that would require a much larger commitment than his own did at present. It would suit him if
the earl lived for some years longer, yet he needed his own income intact.

It was such a coil and so unnecessary. Why must the earl be such a pompous fool, making unreasonable demands on his grandson? Anger mixed with regret as he considered his childhood. Alone and grieving for his parents, he had looked for a sign of love or softness in the earl and found none. Because he was hurt, he had drawn into himself and rejected his grandfather. The estrangement between them had begun years ago and they had drifted apart. For a long time Luke had believed there was nothing between them, but now he was not so sure.

Had he been as indifferent to his grandfather as he had pretended to be since reaching his maturity, he would simply have walked away and left him to make Harte his heir. However, that particular rogue would rejoice at the earl's early demise and make short work of his fortune. He might behave as if butter would not melt in his mouth when in the earl's presence, but Luke knew him for what he was—and that was something that left an unpleasant taste in the mouth. Naturally, he would never mention Harte's true nature to his grandfather.

On the other hand, Hartingdon might embrace Roxanne with open arms and demand a marriage sooner rather than later. At the moment she was resisting the idea stoutly, but once she had become accustomed to her surroundings she might change her mind. Luke had dismissed the idea of a convenient marriage for years, but since coming up with the idea of this make-believe
engagement, he had found that he did not dislike it as much as before—providing the young woman in question was Roxanne.

The calm and enterprising manner in which she had embarked on this whole adventure had made Luke admire her more than any other young woman of his acquaintance. Her circumstances would have broken a lesser spirit, but she seemed resilient and eager for life. She was courageous, honest, and, of late, he had found her both charming and amusing as a companion. It might be perfectly possible to have the kind of businesslike marriage they had spoken of with Roxanne—if she could be brought to agree.

Love was something he still felt belonged to the realms of myths and fairy tales. However, he did like the young woman riding in the carriage ahead of him, and if she were to agree, he would not entirely dislike the idea of marriage and children.

Yet there might come a time when he found someone he truly wished to wed. Luke shook his head. His father had strayed from the marriage bed, not just into the arms of a mistress, but with a woman he professed to want too much to give up. That day in the carriage when his parents had argued so disastrously, Luke's father had been talking of a separation or a divorce. When Luke's mother became hysterical he had begged her pardon, but she would not listen—and then it was too late for all of them.

Thrown clear of the wreckage that had taken their lives and changed his own so dramatically, he had vowed that he would never hurt anyone as his father
had hurt his mother. A sham marriage built on lies was bound to end in bitterness and tears—but a business arrangement was another matter and perhaps a sensible young woman like Roxanne would be able to see its advantages.

As yet they hardly knew one another. Some time spent visiting the earl would rectify that and, if they continued to get along, Luke could suggest that they turn this make-believe engagement into a real marriage.

Naturally, she would still be free to lead her own life much of the time, as would he. Their children would be in the nursery, cared for by a nurse and— No! Suddenly, Luke recalled his own childhood after he was left to the mercy of his grandfather. He would wish to spend time with his own children and to help teach them what life was about. They should not be left to the sole care of servants.

Luke frowned, for the thought brought complications. It might not be as easy to partition his life into different compartments as he had imagined.

Perhaps for the time being it would be best to stay with his original idea and separate once his grandfather was dead. He was amazed at how disappointed that thought made him feel.

 

Roxanne's heart thudded as she glanced out of the window and saw the huge sprawl of Hartingdon. She had known it must be a large house, but this was so big, way beyond her expectation, some parts much older than others and an ancient tower at one corner. How did one ever find one's way about in such a place? She
had thought she would find it easy to play the part of a respectable young lady, but suddenly the task seemed far more daunting than she had imagined. She would be unmasked immediately and the earl would have her thrown out on her ear.

Risking a glance at the girl sitting opposite her, she saw that Tilly was looking terrified. The girl had no previous experience of working in a house such as this, though she had sometimes helped ladies who stayed at her aunt and uncle's inn without their own maids.

‘Do not be too anxious, Tilly.'

‘It is a big house, miss.'

‘Yes, it is. I dare say you will soon get used to it.'

Roxanne smiled reassuringly, though her stomach was tying itself in knots as the carriage slowed to a halt and then stopped. A groom opened the carriage door and immediately stood back, allowing a man in a black-and-gold uniform to assist her. She took the footman's hand and was helped down just as Luke gave the reins of his horse to a groom and came to her.

‘Have courage,' he whispered. ‘It looks daunting, I know, but it is just a house.'

Roxanne lifted her head proudly, but she could not quite control the trembling of her hand as she placed it on his arm. Briefly, Luke covered it with his own and smiled at her. They walked towards the door, where a small group of servants wearing the earl's colours of black and gold had assembled.

‘This is Marshall, my grandfather's valet, and Mrs Arlet, the housekeeper.'

A tall thin woman dressed completely in black
dipped a curtsy. ‘Welcome, Miss Peters. Please allow me to present the staff.'

Roxanne was led down a line of maids and footmen, ending with the scullery maid and the boot boy. She kept her head high and a smile on her lips, giving just the faintest nod to them all. It was the way a properly brought up young woman would act, she was sure, and brought her a look of respect from the housekeeper. However, she noticed that Luke chatted to one or two of the footmen and smiled at the pretty parlour maid. Such behaviour was acceptable from him, for he had known the staff all his life. She was a newcomer and should keep her distance, at least for the moment.

‘Perhaps you would take my fiancée up to her chamber, Mrs Arlet?'

‘Yes, my lord, of course. This way, Miss Peters.'

Roxanne glanced at Luke, but he was talking to the earl's valet. She steadied her nerves and followed the housekeeper up the wide magnificent staircase, her gaze moving to the high-vaulted ceiling of the entrance hall. The banisters were heavily carved mahogany, which had darkened with age and polish, the stone steps covered over with a rich blue Persian-style carpet. The entrance hall floor was tiled in black-and-white marble, but the hall upstairs was covered in the same carpet and looked a recent addition to the elsewhere-faded grandeur of the house.

‘The earl ordered that you be given the best suite of guestrooms, miss,' Mrs Arlet said as she led the way along the hall and into the east wing. ‘They have recently been refurbished. This is a large house and in
constant need of repair or refurbishment. Some of the family rooms have not been used in an age, so nothing has been done to them. No doubt that will change when his lordship marries.'

‘Yes, I would imagine so,' Roxanne said, her heart racing. Naturally everyone would expect a marriage to be forthcoming. A tiny pang of guilt pierced her, because the housekeeper looked pleased at the idea of change. ‘I think—perhaps you would give me a little tour of the house one day, Mrs Arlet? Not just the main reception rooms—but the kitchen and anywhere else I ought to see.'

‘Yes, miss. I should be pleased to, though Lord Clarendon will show you his own rooms, I dare say. The west wing is not often used, because the tower is in need of repair. Lord Clarendon's parents once occupied that wing but after the accident the earl closed the whole wing off, and no one bothers to go there.'

‘The accident…'

‘When the late Lord and Lady Clarendon were killed, miss.'

‘Ah, yes,' Roxanne nodded. ‘I was not sure of your meaning.'

‘No, miss. I suppose there have been a few accidents in the family, what with the earl's only son dying of a fever when he was in his teen years—and then the earl's wife taking a chill after being caught in a rainstorm. I think it broke the master's heart when his daughter was killed so cruelly. He never quite got over it, for she was his favourite.' Mrs Arlet shook her head. ‘They
have not been a lucky family, but I am certain that is all about to change now, miss.'

Other books

Hades by Larissa Ione
The Third Man by Graham Greene
The Paderborn Connection by William A. Newton
Invasion USA by William W. Johnstone
Shadow of the Lords by Simon Levack
The Proof of the Honey by Salwa Al Neimi
Between Madison and Palmetto by Jacqueline Woodson