The Marriage Trap (18 page)

Ellie breathed deeply, savoring the scent of horses and leather. She could not detect even a whiff of a midden, which told her that the owner kept his stable in pristine condition.

She looked up to see Jack studying her. Shrugging helplessly, as though caught in the act, she said, “I'm a country girl at heart.”

He chuckled. “That's an odd thing for Aurora—” He stopped.

The moment of harmony was lost. Her voice chilled. “Let's not keep Mr. Rider waiting.”

After touring the stalls with Mr. Rider, Ellie selected two horses that were then led into the paddock so that they could examine them more closely. Jack favored a two-year-old gelding. He praised its confidence, its proud stance, none of which found favor with Ellie.

“Jack,” she said, mildly remonstrating, “I said I could ride. I didn't say I had served with the cavalry.”

He threw up his hands. “You're the one who chose him.”

“I know, but I'm having second thoughts. Brutus—is that his name?—has a mean look about him. He'd have me reduced to a shivering jelly before I got settled in the saddle.”

She'd chosen him because she wanted to please Jack, to be the dashing kind of woman he seemed to want. But Brutus terrified her.

The groom stroked Brutus's neck. “Her ladyship is right,” he said. “Brutus needs a firm, experienced hand on the reins. Now Blackie, he has a sweet temper.”

“He looks older than the other horses,” she said to the groom.

“Aye, that he is,” he replied. “He's not one of ours, you see. He was a colt when he came here. Famished, he was, and scared of his own shadow. Mr. Rider took him in.” Pride laced his voice. “And now look at him. Why don't I saddle him and you can take a turn around the track?”

“Thank you. I'd like that.”

As the groom sent a stableboy to fetch the saddle, Ellie approached Blackie. He looked at her curiously, but he didn't shy away or appear nervous. He nibbled her outstretched fingers and blew through his nose.

Jack watched with a smile on his face, then moved away to some acquaintance who had hailed him. When Jack moved away, a gentleman who had been leaning on the fence approached Ellie.

“I wonder if you remember me, Lady Raleigh?” he said.

She looked up to see someone about her own age, with hair the color of ripe wheat, a handsome young man of moderate height, with bold eyes and a crooked smile.

“I'm Paul Derby,” he said, “Lord Cardvale's man of business. Perhaps you remember my father. He was Lord Cardvale's man of business until he died.”

Ellie's expression cleared. “I remember you both. But I met you only once or twice. You were at university when I lived with my cousin. How are you, Mr. Derby?”

The conversation that followed seemed ordinary on the surface, but Ellie didn't feel comfortable. Mr. Derby seemed very curious about Robbie—where he was, when he would be returning to university, what college he attended. She replied vaguely to all his questions. It reminded her of the conversation she'd had with Dorothea at her wedding breakfast that morning. She'd been vague about Robbie's plans then, too.

The boy returned with the saddle, and after tipping his hat, Mr. Derby moved away. When she was mounted on Blackie, she forgot about Derby.

They went once around the circuit, then made for the paddock.

“Who trained Blackie?” she asked the groom.

“Mr. Rider did, ma'am. No one as thought it could be done, but he proved them wrong. Patience and persistence, that's old Rider's motto. I never thought as he would part from Blackie. His lordship must have been very persuasive.”

Ellie was puzzled. “You mean, my husband
chose
Blackie for me?”

“Bought and paid for,” replied the groom.

Now she was astonished.

When they returned to the paddock, Jack helped her dismount. “You're a better rider than you know,” he said.

“Thanks to Blackie! But you know all about that.”

His eyes measured her. “So, the groom has a loose tongue. Fine. If you don't like Blackie, we'll choose another mount for you, but not Brutus. He's all show and temper. You'd never know what he'd do next.”

“The point is . . .”

“Yes?”

The point was, she didn't like to be tricked or managed. She was used to making her own decisions. One day of marriage and she was reduced to the level of a witless child.

His eyes gleamed knowingly. “Tell me,” he said, “who was that gentleman who was talking to you a moment ago, the one with the toothsome grin? I don't recall meeting him.”

His lightning change of topic had her confused for a moment. “Oh, that was Paul Derby, Cardvale's man of business. The oddest thing, Jack. He was asking a lot of questions about Robbie, the same questions Dorothea asked this morning.” And she went on to tell him about her vague sense of misgiving, ending with, “Am I being too sensitive? Does he know something we don't know?”

He patted her hand. “It pays to be careful,” he said. “I think I'd like to get to know Mr. Derby a little better. But his presence here could be quite innocent. Perhaps he's settling one of Cardvale's bills.”

Ellie was silent, but she was thinking that it was time she got to know her brother a little better.

She didn't see Robbie until it was time for bed. He'd been pressed into service as escort for the dowager and Caro, and they'd spent the evening at the theater taking in the revival of one of Sheridan's plays. Ellie was well aware that the dowager had planned this little outing so that the newlywed couple could have time to themselves, but the newlywed couple soon exhausted every topic of conversation and the silences between them were becoming longer and more strained.

Dinner was long over and they were sitting in front of the fire in the drawing room, waiting for the others to come home. Her head was bent over a cushion cover that she was embroidering and Jack was sitting opposite her, reading a book, sipping from a glass of brandy. Her relief was palpable when she heard the front door open and not long after, the sound of voices on the stairs.

She set aside the embroidery. Jack put down his book and glass. When he rose and crossed to her, she looked up at him with a question in her eyes.

He tipped her chin up with one hand and bent over her. Against her lips, he said, “Let's make this convincing, Ellie. For the family's sake.”

If there had been a spark of amusement in his eyes, she would have found a ready retort. But his expression was intensely masculine, the way a man looks at a woman he wants.

At the first brush of his lips, she froze, but as his lips sank into hers, the familiar wave of pleasure rushed to every sensitive spot in her body, and just like the last time, her bones turned to jelly. Her hand closed around his arm in a vain effort to steady herself. The dowager, Caro, and Robbie were momentarily forgotten as she gave herself up to his kiss.

It was over in a moment. He straightened and said with a laugh, “We've got company, my love.”

When he moved aside, Ellie had a clear view of the people who had just entered the room. The dowager's smile was brilliant and Robbie was grinning from ear to ear. Caro's expression was more difficult to read, but one thing was certain, she was not happy to have witnessed that kiss.

Except for Ellie's blushes, there was no awkwardness. No one mentioned the kiss. Everyone began to talk naturally of the performance they'd just come from, or whom they'd seen at the theater. Caro's contribution to the conversation was to remind everyone that Frances would soon be home, and she, for one, could hardly wait.

Frances,
thought Ellie, Jack's sister-in-law, whom she now displaced as mistress of the house. Is that why Caro was so sullen? She need not be, for Ellie had no desire to displace anyone. Mrs. Leach had brought that lesson home to her.

At last, they all began to drift off to bed. As was his habit, Jack went downstairs to make sure every window and door was locked. Ellie walked Robbie to her own door and halted.

“All set for tomorrow morning?” she asked. In the morning, he and Milton were to meet with Jack's attorney.

He shrugged. “I can't help feeling nervous.”

“That's natural.” She patted his arm. “Jack knows what he is doing. You can trust him.”

“Oh, I do.”

When he would have turned away, she put a hand on his sleeve. “Robbie,” she said, “are you making any plans you haven't told me about?”

He looked puzzled. “What kind of plans?”

“I don't know. I happened to meet Cardvale's man of business today, and something he said made me think you might be leaving us.”

“‘Leaving'? I don't know what gave him that idea. No, Ellie, I'm doing exactly what we agreed upon. I'll cram for my examination, then, if I pass it, I'll return to Oxford. Who is Cardvale's man of business, anyway? Do I know him?”

“Paul Derby. His father was Cardvale's man of business before him.”

Robbie shook his head. “The name means nothing to me.”

“Could you have met him in Paris? Could he have been one of Louise's admirers?”

“A man of business?” He sounded incredulous. “What would he be doing in Paris?”

She spoke from sheer frustration. “I find it just as incredible that you were in Paris and that a beautiful actress, who could have had her pick of any man, chose a boy who was hardly out of the schoolroom to be her lover.”

“I wasn't her lover! How many times do I have to tell you?”

“Then explain to me why she favored
you
.”

He blushed and shuffled his feet. Finally, he said, “It was my name, Brans-Hill. She recognized it. She said that our parents sheltered both her and her mother when they were stranded in England a long time ago.” He grinned sheepishly. “That's why Louise singled me out. She wanted to hear all about our parents and how our family had fared in the intervening years. Don't tell Milton. I let him think that Louise took me up because she thought I was a charming fellow.”

“So you were never in love with Louise or she with you?”

He screwed up his face. “Don't be daft! She was older than you! Of course, Louise knew how to dress and make the most of herself . . .” He saw something in his sister's face that made him hasten to add, “Not that you've ever been interested in such frippery things. And Louise didn't have your book learning. Few ladies do.”

“Thank you for the compliment,” she said, scarcely mollified.

This encouraged him to elaborate. “Louise wasn't a highflier, you know. Most people had the wrong impression about her, just because she was an actress and she was beautiful.” He shrugged. “I don't know how to explain it except to say I'm sure you would have liked her.”

Ellie was looking at him thoughtfully. “And she wanted to hear all about our family?”

“Yes. I was surprised, too. You don't remember her or her mother?”

“No. But it may come to me.”

“Well,” he said, “I'll just toddle along. Nice wedding. You looked lovely. Raleigh is a lucky man.”

She stared after him, her mind absorbed in what he had just told her.

Her parents had helped Louise Daudet and her mother when they were stranded in England a long time ago. It was quite possible. Her parents were always taking in strays. But she had no recollection of a French girl and her mother.

It wasn't relevant anyway. A murder in Paris could have nothing to do with her parents helping two French émigrés many years before.

As for Paul Derby, it was obvious to her now that she'd made too much of what was, after all, a kindly curiosity about a family he once knew. Cardvale had probably mentioned them to his man of business and the rest followed naturally. Isn't that what had happened with Louise Daudet and Robbie?

Alice, who occasionally worked as lady's maid, was waiting for her in her chamber. The girl was extremely shy, and Ellie could hardly get a word out of her. She conversed with her just the same, but it was a one-sided conversation and she was relieved when she was alone.

She looked at the locked door that separated her room from Jack's. He'd told her that he would never enter her chamber uninvited and she believed him.

A sensitive man would realize that behind the bravado, she was shy, inexperienced, and totally ignorant of men. A sensitive man would make allowances and overlook her odd humors. The trouble was, he was used to women fawning over him. He'd never had to court a woman. All he had to do was crook his finger and they came running.