Carrying The Gentleman's Secret

Nothing moved in his face, but his eyes darkened. Quietly, he said, ‘I am sorry you had to find out like that.’

‘Yes—so am I, but thank goodness I found out before it was too late. Now would you please let go of my arm?’ He obliged at once.

Her anger somewhat diminished, Lydia stared at the darkly handsome stranger. He possessed a haughty reserve that was not inviting. There was also an aggressive confidence and strength of purpose in his features, and he had the air of a man who succeeded in all he set out to achieve. From the arrogant lift of his dark head and casual stance, he was a man with many shades to his nature, a man with a sense of his own infallibility. With her mind on what Henry would have done to her had this stranger not intervened, she was unnaturally calm, as calm as the Ice Maiden Henry had accused her of being.

‘I—I...’ Words seemed to stick in her throat, almost choking her. She felt exposed and vulnerable, knowing this man was seeing her like this. Normally poised and in complete control of herself, she felt so undignified. It was all so humiliating. When she had first looked at him she had seen by his face that he was a hard man not easily softened, so she was surprised he had even come after her. ‘Please excuse me. This is all so sudden—so confusing.’

For the first time, Alexander looked at her and she at him. Something passed between them. Each felt that this moment was one of great importance, that they stood on the edge of something tangible, but they did not understand what it could be. Lydia swallowed hard. She could not seem to look away. She thought she should scream or try to run away. She did neither. Noise and bustle went on around them, but the sounds and people were lost to them as they looked at each other. It was a look that stretched for only seconds, but seemed far longer before Lydia averted her eyes as her heart swelled with such a bewildering array of emotions that she was overwhelmed.

* * *

Caught off guard by the effect this young woman was having on him, Alex immediately recollected himself. He could see she was still in the process of reeling from the truth of what Henry had done. She was dressed with tasteful simplicity in a gown the colour of raspberries. Her features were striking, her hair beneath her bonnet a rich, shining black. Her large dark green eyes tilting slightly upwards were moist, droplets of tears caught in her thick fringe of lashes glittering like diamonds. Her mouth was as red and ripe as a berry, her lower lip full. The sun was warm and the light glinted softly against her. It made her skin luminous. Quite tall and slender, she was wholly arresting and he could not seem to drag his eyes away.

When he had burst into the room to halt the wedding, he had been unable to focus on anything else but his brother-in-law. When he had learned Henry had come to Scotland and his reason for doing so, he had taken the young woman to be one of the high-spirited good-time girls who thought of little else but the frivolous pursuit of pleasure, whose life was one constant round of uninhibited fun and who thought it necessary to be a rebel, to outrageously defy the order of society—hence her easy compliance to adhere to this mad escapade.

The anger provoked by Henry’s reprehensible behaviour began to subside a little, and Alex felt a faint stirring of admiration for the self-assured way in which the young woman faced him. Anger burned like a flame in her eyes and he was touched, despite himself, by her youth. When he looked at her, there was no hint of the softening in his mood. His eyes, harsh and impenetrable, met hers, and, if she had but known it, they were adept in keeping a legion of employees in their place.

‘I imagine it is,’ he said at length. Beginning to see how devastating it must be for her to realise she had fallen prey to a seducer, he suddenly showed a hint of human feeling. ‘This cannot be easy for you. You did not know Henry had a wife.’

Wishing herself anywhere but where she was, facing the lonely place that rejection and anger had taken her, Lydia blinked hard to make the tears of hurt, anger and frustration disappear, hating herself for a weakness which ordinarily she would never show. ‘Had I known that, I would not be here. I cannot believe he has done this to me. How could he?’

There was a desperate, almost wild look about her. She seemed ready to bolt like a wild horse at any moment. The cords in her neck were strained and the glimmer of tears slipped like melting dreams from her eyes. Alex felt a curious need to treat her with gentleness, to say something to comfort her. But he didn’t know her or understand the nature of her grief, or her true relationship with his sister’s husband.

‘It’s all right. I am not about to judge you.’

She didn’t look convinced. Distrust clouded her eyes. Fiercely, she wiped away her tears with the back of her hand. ‘But I think you will.’ She tried to sound scornful. She only sounded afraid. The stranger would know, hear her inner weakness, and she despised him for knowing. Her natural resilience began to reassert itself. She looked at him, eyes flashing, defiant chin lifted. ‘I thank you for arriving when you did.’

‘There’s no need.’

Alex noticed her posture—arms stiff, hands clenched by her sides. Her face was white like alabaster and her eyes glittered. He could not take his eyes off her—in fact, she looked quite magnificent. She reminded him of a rapier blade made of steel. Drawn up to her full height, she was standing on her dignity. He could see that the fear had left her and she was in the grip of an ice-cold, venomous rage. He waited for her to conclude whatever inner battle she was engaged in and he tried to keep his face as non-committal as possible.

‘I imagine you were looking forward to going to America.’

‘Yes. I can’t pretend otherwise—a new start—I’d hoped.’

‘You must be disappointed.’

‘One has to learn to live with disappointments.’

‘Really? You seem rather young to be stacking up the bitter lessons of life.’

‘No one knows at what age life will deny us.’

Alex looked at her. He tried to read her face, to see what emotion and meaning were behind her words, but he couldn’t. He suspected that this young woman had a great deal of pride and courage, and both those things would force her to brave out the situation no matter how devastated she was.

Lydia stood and stared about her. What was she to do? Until now there had been Henry, experienced and decisive, to give her guidance and to take ultimate responsibility of the journey north in the hired coach and of their wedding. Now, she realised, she was on her own. Her hopes and dreams for a future which she had built were fractured suddenly. But, God willing, it was not irreparable.

‘I will not go back into that room,’ she said. ‘I do not want to see Henry again. Not ever.’

Alex noted the even tone of her voice and the directness of her contact with his eyes. ‘No one expects you to. Return to the hotel. I will make sure Henry does not trouble you. I want to say it was remiss of me not to enquire as to how what has happened has affected you. I do apologise most sincerely. I am not usually so unmannerly and I realise I spoke to you most unfairly earlier. I do beg your pardon.’

‘Since he is married to your sister your anger was justifiable. Believe me, sir, when he proposed marriage to me I took time to weigh my options, considering every possible outcome of permanently tying my life to his.’ She smiled bitterly. ‘When it comes to making decisions I am the least impetuous person you could meet. I should have thought about it some more.’

‘You weren’t to know he was already married. How could you? Come. Let me walk with you back to your hotel.’

‘Thank you.’ She fell into step beside him, slanting him a look. ‘You have gone to a lot of trouble.’

He shrugged. ‘I was left with no choice. Believe me, Miss Brook, I would not have halted your wedding without good reason. Consider yourself lucky that I discovered what he was up to before it was too late. I am sorry if this has inconvenienced you, but you must see that I have done you a favour.’

‘Yes—yes, I realise that.’ She stepped away from him. ‘I will return to the hotel. I shall be boarding the coach going south in the morning.’

Having reached where she was staying, they stopped outside and Alex looked down at her, noting a tiny cleft in her chin that was almost invisible. She had style and bearing, and there was a tone to her voice and an imperious lift to her head that spoke of breeding, of being superior to the ordinary woman. He suspected she was very much her own person—a woman of her time. In the sun’s bright light her colouring was vivid now. She dazzled him, drawing him to her with a power that enthralled him, and he stared at her with a hunger that went beyond anything physical.

He was quite bewildered by what he felt for her. It was an emotion he had no words for. All he knew was that it was different to anything he had felt in a long time, something that had sprung up suddenly, taking him by surprise, and he knew he couldn’t and didn’t want to walk away from her.

‘I, too, will be staying at the hotel. It would give me great pleasure if you would dine with me tonight, Miss Brook?’

Lydia took a moment to consider his request, thinking that she really should refuse in the light of everything that had happened. But feeling restless and dissatisfied and having no wish to be alone on what should have been her wedding night, she accepted.

‘Why—I—Yes, thank you. I would like that.’

* * *

Returning to the wedding venue, Alex immediately sought out Harris, his manservant—the man he relied on implicitly in both his business and personal life.

‘Where is my brother-in-law, Harris?’

‘Still inside—doing his best to placate the minister who was to conduct the ceremony. His attitude is of a man who is not at fault.’

‘Which comes as no surprise to me, Harris.’

‘He wanted to go after the young lady, but I told him to wait here.’

‘You did quite right. He’s the last person she wants to see right now. I’ve taken her back to the hotel. It grieves me to say so, but my sister’s husband is a wastrel with a warped sense of humour and his reasoning, to put it mildly, is perverse. He is capable of gross infidelity and would have boasted of the conquest to his worthless friends had he brought it off and to hell with his reputation and the hurt it would have caused both his wife and Miss Brook.’

‘Well, you did try to warn your sister against marrying him.’

‘Since when did Miranda listen to anything I have to say?’ Alex retorted crossly. ‘I sometimes wonder about the family she married into—that the very fabric of the Seymour line is flawed in some way. As you know, I have no particular liking for my sister’s choice of husband, but I did not imagine he was capable of this. His father had a dubious carry on—a gambler and a womaniser who left a pile of debts. There’s a dark thread running through that family, Harris, and who knows where the devil it will appear? I pray to God not in my as-yet-unborn nephew or niece.’

‘I very much doubt it,’ Harris said.

‘Let’s hope not. I would protect Miranda from this—but when she gets a bee in her bonnet she won’t give up until she is in full possession of the facts. She knows he’s been seeing another woman—but not the extent of it. For her sake I would like to keep this whole thing quiet. Should the story get out the dirt will stick and the unsavoury backlash will cause her unbearable hurt.’

Alex strode into the house, meeting Henry coming out. Alex was a serious individual and known as a hard, unyielding taskmaster by those subordinate to him. He was also a ruthless businessman who had made a large fortune in shipping and mining in the north of England and an even larger one in clever investments in the railways and abroad. He had settled a more-than-generous dowry on Miranda, knowing of Henry’s debts and his run-down estate which would benefit. Alex looked at him with contempt.

His normally arrogant brother-in-law was now subdued, demoralised by the events that had overtaken him, existing in a numbing vacuum of his own uncertainty. ‘Well?’ Alex demanded. ‘Things have ended this way because of a miscalculation on your part—Miranda’s failure to remain in Surrey and your friends’ willingness to talk. It was a stupid mistake, the sort of error that could cost you your marriage. What have you to say for yourself?

‘What can I say? You appear to know everything.’