The Six Month Marriage (14 page)

Once downstairs she went into the Countess’s study, a small
and pretty room which overlooked the east side of the house. It was from here
that Philip’s mother had run the Manor when she had been alive, and as all the
servants were used to the arrangement Madeline had decided to continue with it,
particularly as all the household diaries, account books and other necessary
tomes were kept there.

She was just looking over the proposed menus for the
week when Philip walked into the room.

‘Mrs Potts told me I would find you here,’ he said.

She waited for him to continue.

‘The room is to your liking?’ he asked. ‘You have
everything you need?’

He was being formally polite, as though there had never
been anything but the cold arrangement of a six-month marriage between them.
All the familiarity of their journey had vanished.

Try as she might to tell herself that she was grateful
for it, Madeline knew that in reality she missed their former ease and
companionship.

‘Yes, thank you,’ she said, answering him in similar
vein.

‘Good. Madeline,’ he said. He stopped and then went on. ‘After
all that has happened over the past few weeks I have decided to provide you
with a bodyguard.’

‘A bodyguard?’ she asked, surprised.

‘Yes. There have been a number of unsettling incidents
of late and I want to make sure you are safe when you go out riding on the
estate.’

‘Thank you, but that won’t be necessary.’

She had no desire for a bodyguard; her freedom had been
too hard won.

‘It was not a request,’ he said with a frown.

‘Then what?’ she asked. She spoke calmly, but her pulse
was beginning to beat more quickly. She had been watched and hemmed in by her
uncle in
London
, and she did
not mean to let Philip, or anyone else, treat her in the same way. ‘An order,
perhaps?’ She said it lightly, but there was an underlying edge to her voice.

‘Of course not,’ he remarked.

‘Then if it is not an order, I will decline.’ She spoke
calmly but with resolution.

‘You need someone with you when you go out,’ said
Philip, his voice becoming as resolute as her own.

‘I need no such thing.’

She could fell her fear rising but she fought it down.

‘Then perhaps it will be as well if you remained
indoors,’ he remarked.

‘I will not be made a prisoner of,’ said Madeline,
standing up. ‘I will go where I want, when I want, and neither you nor anyone
else will tell me otherwise.’

‘And if you are attacked?’ he demanded ‘What then?’

‘I would rather face that possibility than have a
bodyguard dogging my footsteps everywhere I go.’

‘But I would not,’ he returned.

‘Then you must accustom yourself to it, because I will
not be followed under any circumstances. And now, if you will excuse me, I have
work to do.’

‘Work?’ he queried. ‘I didn’t bring you to
Yorkshire
to work.’

‘Nevertheless, it is what I intend to do. There is a
ball to be arranged —’

‘Mrs Potts can do that.’

‘Mrs Potts needs a mistress to guide her.’

‘I see you are determined,’ he said icily.

‘I am.’

‘Then I will leave you to your own devices,’ he said
angrily.

He strode over to the door.

‘Philip.’

He turned.

‘Try to understand. I was hemmed in constantly by my
uncle. I cannot be put under guard again.’

‘You have made your position perfectly clear,’ he said,
before walking out of the door.

Leaving Madeline to wonder whether she had been a fool.

There
had
been dangers in
London
and on the journey north, she could
not deny it. But surely those dangers had not followed them here?

She found herself glancing apprehensively out of the
window, as though she expected to see a group of masked men bursting out of the
avenue of trees, but nothing happened.

Of course not. The idea was ridiculous.

And telling herself to stop being fanciful, Madeline
turned her thoughts back to the many things that needed her attention. There
was the ball to be organised, and the preparations to be made for Emma’s visit,
for Philip’s sister was due to visit the Manor for the summer holidays. And
then there were a hundred and one other everyday affairs to be seen to.

Quite enough to do, without imagining further threats
from masked men and mysterious break-ins, Madeline told herself.

And sitting down once more at her desk she began to make
a list of things she needed to do.

And
why did I handle that so badly? Philip asked himself as he strode out to the
stables and saddled his horse.

But he knew why. It was because Madeline was becoming
increasingly important to him, and he couldn’t bear to think of her being in
danger. He had tried to fight it, the knowledge that, far from being an
encumbrance who bored him with her idle chatter, as he had supposed she would
be, Madeline was an intriguing and desirable young woman who set his blood on
fire. But it was no use.

What then? Did he mean to overset all his plans?

Of course not. The notion was ridiculous. It was not as
though he was in love with her. There might have been a reason to question his
choices if that were the case. But as it was . . .

He rode out of the stable yard, and as he made for the
open moorland he determinedly put all thoughts of Madeline out of his mind.

The following week passed quickly for Madeline. Together
with Mrs Potts, she put preparations in hand for the ball. Although it was
still some way off there was much to be organised, and the invitations had to
be written and sent out in good time. In addition, she saw that Emma’s room was
cleaned and made ready for the young girl’s visit.

At the end of the week, Philip said to her at dinner, ‘I
have to go in to
York
tomorrow.
I have instructed Mr Greer to ready a number of houses for you so that you can
choose the one you would like as your future home.’

Madeline had almost forgotten about the house in
York
. It had been part of her agreement
with Philip that he would provide her with a house once their marriage had run
its course, and it seemed he meant to keep to his promise.

She listened with interest as Philip outlined the houses
he had chosen for her to see, but instead of looking forward to seeing them she
found that, for some reason, she was dreading it. She did not know why that
should be. To have a house of her own, and an income to support herself, so
that she need never be in anyone else’s power again, had for a long time been
her greatest desire. But for some reason it seemed to have lost its allure.

‘There
are a number of houses for you to visit this morning,’ said Philip on the
following day as they set out for
York
. ‘The first house I want you to see is in
St
Leonard
’s Place. I think you’ll like it. It has all
the modern conveniences.’

As he spoke, the carriage turned a corner and rolled to
a halt. Waiting for them on the pavement was a round little man with an
ingratiating smile.

‘My lord, my lady,’ he said, making a low bow as they
stepped out of the carriage.

‘This is Mr Greer,’ said Philip, introducing Madeline to
the manager of his
York
properties.

Mr Greer bowed lower still.

‘Is everything ready?’ Philip asked the little man as they
went inside.

‘Yes, my lord. The house has been opened up and aired,
as you instructed, and the other houses are waiting for your inspection
whenever you wish to see them.’ He turned to Madeline ‘This way, my lady.’

Together they looked over the house in
St Leonard
’s Place. It was newly built
and, as Philip had said, it had all the most modern conveniences. But for some
reason Madeline did not take to it.

‘What do you think of it?’ asked Philip, as Madeline
completed her inspection of the house.

‘It’s very nice,’ she said.

Catching her tone of voice he said, ‘But not the house
for you. Never mind. It’s only the first one on the list.’

They spent the morning looking at a number of other
houses dotted around the city, until at last they came to the final one.

‘This is a delightful house for you, if I may say so, my
lady, when you want to spend a few days in York without the bother of going
back to the Manor every day,’ gushed Mr Greer.

That was the reason that had been given to the manager
for showing Madeline round a selection of houses: that the Earl and his wife
wanted a base in
York
, so that
they could attend concerts or balls without having to face a long drive back to
the Manor afterwards.

The house was indeed delightful. It was rather small,
but full of character. Large windows flooded the rooms with light, and there
was even a distant view of the Minster. But although it was delightful,
Madeline had no desire to live there.

‘You don’t look very happy,’ said Philip as they
completed their inspection of the house and went out to view the colourful
garden. ‘Do you not like it?’

‘It’s charming,’ said Madeline, feeling that she was
being ungrateful and trying to sound delighted.

‘But?’ asked Philip.

‘But . . . do I have to decide today?’ she asked
suddenly.

Philip looked at her searchingly and then, as if reading
at least a part of her feelings, said, ‘No, of course not.’ He turned to the
manager. ‘Thank you, Greer. We will let you know when we have made up our
minds.’

‘Very good, my lord.’ The little man bowed them outside.

‘And now,’ said Philip, ‘I suggest we go for lunch.’

Lunch was taken in a private parlour at the
Black
Swan Inn
. The inn, with its half-timbering, was an interesting one and the
food was excellent. Madeline and Philip chose plain yet well-cooked fayre: a
dish of soup, a rib of beef, and a light syllabub for dessert. Then, much
refreshed, they decided to take a walk down to the river.

Hardly had they reached it, however, when Madeline heard
a cry of ‘Philip!’ and turning round she saw a young man hurrying towards them.

The young man had soft dark curls and magnificent
clothes. He was dressed in the height of fashion, although to Madeline his
dandified clothes looked slightly ridiculous. His shirt points were so high
they must have made turning his head difficult, and his yellow pantaloons were
garish, whilst his colourful waistcoat seemed to contain every colour of the
rainbow. Still, he looked to be good-humoured, and Philip seemed pleased,
rather than otherwise, to see him.

‘Stuart!’ he said.

‘What a stroke of luck, bumping into you like this!’
said the young man.

‘Madeline, may I introduce my cousin, Stuart?’

‘So this is the lovely Madeline,’ said Stuart, bowing
over her hand.

‘What brings you to
York
?’ asked Philip, as Stuart seemed disinclined to let go of Madeline’s
hand.

‘Oh, this and that. Business, you know,’ said Stuart
cheerfully, as he pulled his eyes away from Madeline.

‘Business?’ Philip raised one eyebrow. ‘What kind of
business?’

‘Oh, one thing and another,’ said Stuart vaguely. ‘But I
see you’re all set for a walk by the river. Splendid! I was just going to take
a stroll myself.’

‘How long are you staying in
York
?’ asked Philip as the three of them walked on together.

‘Oh, a while, I dare say,’ said Stuart breezily. ‘Nothing
to get back to town for, you know. It’s so much pleasanter up here in
Yorkshire
in the summer. By the way,’ he
said casually, ‘Aunt Honoria asked me to send you her love.’

‘You’ve seen Aunt Honoria?’ asked Philip in surprise.

Madeline had the feeling that it was unusual for the
young man to visit his aunt.

‘Why not? I get out there now and again, you know,’ said
Stuart; though he seemed a trifle uncomfortable as he said it.

‘And how did you find her?’

‘Oh, as well as ever. I must say, she does ever so well.
Never seems to get any older. Bright as a button.’ He gave a strangely
self-satisfied smile. ‘She tells me you’re holding a ball,’ he added
conversationally. ‘I must say I think it’s a good idea. That way everyone can
meet Madeline and welcome her to the Manor,’ he said with a bow in Madeline’s
direction.

‘That’s right.’ Philip’s voice did not sound
encouraging.