Her calm response relieved his mind of one worry: she was not going to fall into hysterics. Yet he should not have been surprised. She could have no proper feeling to have lent herself to this madness in the first place.
He retorted coldly, ‘These circumstances, as you describe them, are very much your own fault.’
‘I am well aware of that.’
She took off her hat and gloves and untied the strings of her cloak. When he put his hands on her shoulders to take it from her she tensed, but did not shrug him off. He was standing so close behind her that he could smell her perfume, a subtle hint of lily of the valley that made him want to drop his head closer still, perhaps even to bend and place a kiss upon the slender white neck exposed to his view.
Shocked at his reaction, he drew back. This woman was nothing to him—how could he even contemplate making love to her? But the idea lingered and it disturbed him.
Gideon threw her cloak over a chair with his own greatcoat, placing his hat and gloves next to hers on the small side table. His temper was cooling and he was all too aware of their predicament. Perhaps it was not too late to remedy that. He dashed out of the room. He found the butler crossing the hallway and called to him as he ran to the main door.
‘Has the coach gone? Quickly, man!’
‘Y-yes, sir! As soon as you was set down. We took off the baggage and they was away, wanting to get somewhere near home before nightfall, there being no moon tonight.’
Gideon yanked open the door and looked out at the empty drive.
‘But that was only minutes ago. We must fetch it back. There must be a horse in the stables you can send after it.’
Startled, the butler shook his head.
‘I’m afraid not, sir. There’s only Bessie, the cob, but she pulls the carts and has never worn a saddle in her life. I suppose old Adam could harness her up to the gig...’
Staring into the gathering darkness, Gideon realised it would be impossible for them to call back the carriage now.
‘How far is it to the nearest town, or even the nearest inn?’
The butler looked at him with astonishment and Gideon thought grimly how it must look, the bridegroom wanting to run away before his wedding night! However, the truth would be even more unpalatable, so he remained silent while the man pondered his question.
‘There ain’t an inn, sir,’ he said at last. ‘Not one as would suit you, at any rate. And it’s all of seven miles to Swaffham, but you wouldn’t be wanting to set out tonight, not without a moon.’
‘No, of course not.’ With a shake of his head Gideon stepped back from the entrance, leaving Chiswick to close the door while he made his way back to the parlour. He could hardly complain. After all, he himself had hired the post-chaise and his instructions had been quite clear: it would not be required again for two weeks. He had fully intended to enjoy his honeymoon with his bewitching bride. Now he was stranded in the middle of nowhere with a young woman he had never met before today. And a respectable young woman at that, despite her part in this charade. Damn Max and his practical jokes!
Chapter Three
Gideon returned to find the lady in question pacing up and down the parlour. He said as calmly as he could, ‘It seems we are stuck here, at least until the morning.’
‘Was that not your intention?’
Her glance scorched him and he frowned.
‘No, I had not thought it out. I was angry.’
‘And now?’
‘Now I realise that it would have been better if we had remained at the Abbey.’ He paused. ‘We are in the devil of a coil.’
She sighed. ‘I know.’
His eyes fell on the table.
‘Shall we sit down?’ He held a chair for her, thinking that they were like two cats, warily circling each other. When they were both seated he filled two glasses and pushed one towards her. ‘Why did you agree to Max’s outlandish scheme? You do not look like the sort to indulge in practical jokes of your own accord.’
‘No.’ She put a small cake on to her plate and broke it into little pieces.
‘Did he offer you money?’
‘Something of that sort.’
‘But you are his cousin.’
‘An impoverished cousin. My mother brought me to England ten years ago, seeking refuge with her brother, the earl—Max’s father. When Max inherited Martlesham he also inherited us. We have been living off charity ever since. A few months ago Max set us up in a cottage in Martlesham village.’ Her fingers played with the crumbs on her plate. ‘He promised... If I agreed to take part in his scheme, he would sign the property over to my mother and give her a pension for the rest of her life.’
‘And for this you would marry a stranger.’
Her head came up at that. She said angrily, ‘Do you know what it is like to be someone’s pensioner? To know that everything you have, every penny you spend, comes from someone else?’
‘As a matter of fact I do, since I am a younger son. For many years I was dependent upon an allowance from my father.’
Their eyes clashed for a moment, then her glance slid away and she continued quietly, ‘Max promised it would only mean going through the ceremony. He said that once the trick was uncovered the marriage would be annulled.’
‘The devil he did!’ Gideon pushed back his chair and went to the window. The darkness outside showed only his scowling reflection. ‘The servants must have known what was going on—that the woman I thought was Martlesham’s cousin was an impostor.’
‘Yes. Max threatened instant dismissal to anyone who did not go along with his deception.’
He turned back to face her.
‘And your mother? Will Max explain everything to her?’
‘I doubt it.’ She bit her lip. ‘Max tends to think only of those things that affect him.’
‘But won’t she worry about you?’
She looked down at her hands clasped in her lap.
‘I wrote a note for her, telling her that I would be remaining at the Abbey for a few days.’
‘And she will be content with that?’
Her head dipped even lower.
‘Maman has her own concerns and will think nothing amiss.’
Gideon finished his wine and poured himself another glass. Dominique—he almost winced. He must get used to calling her that. The girl had hardly touched her wine and the cake lay crumbled on her plate. A tiny spark of sympathy touched him.
‘Do not despair,’ he told her. ‘In the morning we will return to Martlesham and I will arrange for an annulment.’
‘And until then?’
Her gaze was sceptical.
‘We are not alone here. Mrs Chiswick is a respectable woman and, when we tell her there has been a mistake she will look after you until we can get you back to Martlesham.’ He tried a reassuring smile. ‘I think she can be relied upon to protect your honour.’
Dominique forced herself to meet his eyes, wondering at the change in tone. It was the first time Gideon Albury had done anything other than glower at her. Oh, he had smiled in the church, but then he had thought her someone else. Now he was smiling at her, plain little Dominique Rainault, and her heart began to thud with a breathless irregularity. Often in the preceding weeks she had dreamed of such