Carole Mortimer - Historical Romance – The Best Of The Year

* * *

Standing up with Adam in church, as his best man, was a pleasure and helped to dispel the dark clouds that had hung over Hal since the murder of his cousin Mark. He, Mark, Paul and Adam had come through the war with Napoleon’s France together, only for his eldest cousin Mark to be shot down in cold blood by a rogue at his own home. Between them, Adam, Paul and Hallam had caught and punished Mark’s murderer, but it had left a shadow on their lives.

Adam’s wedding was the time for them to put the sadness of the recent past behind them. Lord Ravenscar had wanted it to happen, because he said it was what Mark would have wanted.

‘My son would not wish us to mourn him for month after month, even if we do so in our hearts,’ he’d told Adam when he offered to postpone the wedding until a year had passed. ‘You must marry, Adam. Miss Jenny Hastings is a beautiful young lady and I shall be glad if you will bring her to stay with me sometimes.’

Adam had promised he would when they returned from their honeymoon. After a stay in Scotland, they were to return to Ravenscar for a time before taking a long journey to France and then on to Italy, where Paul had gone in an effort to forget the pain and grief his brother’s death had caused him. Hallam suspected that there was more to Paul’s extreme distress...a little matter of being in love with Lucy Dawlish, the girl who had been expected to marry Mark Ravenscar.

Women could be the very devil, Hallam thought, his thoughts drifting away from the ceremony after he’d done his part and supplied the rings. He watched his cousin and Jenny approach the high altar for the private blessing they would share with the vicar before going off to sign their names. His mouth hardened, as he thought of the woman that he’d been so much in love with some four years previously. Maddie had married her count, and he’d seen how well she’d settled into her new life at Devenish’s ball. How beautiful she’d looked that evening, pale and lovely like a marble statue. The young vibrant girl he had known was nowhere to be seen.

The thought caught at his throat, restricting his breathing and causing him pain somewhere in the region of his heart. What a fool he was to care what Maddie might or might not be doing! Hallam had done his best to forget her in the arms of a mistress, but after the first flush of anger had passed, he had parted company from the very obliging married lady. He believed she was now enjoying a similar arrangement with another officer. Her husband had his heirs and was apparently content to allow his wife her pleasures providing she did not interfere with his; he’d married her for the fortune she brought him.

Hallam’s mouth curled at the notion of such an arrangement, though he knew that several of his friends had married either for money or land and were seemingly content in similar marriages. It would not do for Hallam. He would not have taken up with the obliging Lady Meadows had she not made it clear she was interested in an arrangement. In truth, it had brought him only physical relief, for his heart belonged to one woman—a woman he could never have.

What had Madeline done to him that he could not be interested in any other woman? Bitterness swept through him, because he wanted neither a marriage of convenience nor the caresses of a mistress. Even in the lady’s bed, he’d known a sick longing for the woman he could never have.

His frown increased as he watched Adam and Jenny walk arm in arm from the church, the happy smiles on their faces telling of their pleasure in each other. Why could he not find a woman to love so completely that she swept the memory of Madeline from his mind? Miss Carstairs would make someone a delightful wife, but not him. He was a man haunted by the past, unable to forget the torment that had begun when Madeline broke his heart.

Could a man ever put the past behind him so completely that his heart was no longer shadowed by an old love? For him it seemed impossible. He gave himself a mental shake.

He must forget his own problems. Hallam had duties as Adam’s groomsman and he pushed the worrying thoughts away, smiling as he looked about him at the guests. He must make certain that everyone had a carriage to convey them to the house, where the reception was being held.

As they left church, Adam and Jenny were showered with rose petals and rice, the guests laughing and cheering as the happy couple ran for their carriage. Hallam stood outside the church, greeting people and overseeing the carriages as they lined up to collect their passengers. Suddenly, his breath caught as he saw a woman in a pale-blue silk gown. She wore a lace fichu at her throat and carried a fine, lacy wool stole over her arms, a long ringlet of fair hair resting on one shoulder.

Obviously the wife of a rich man, her clothes and jewels of the finest money could buy, Maddie looked beautiful but cold. A proud beauty, heartless and carved of ice. Hallam’s heart felt as if someone had thrust a dagger into it.

She had noticed him. He saw her green eyes gleam suddenly and for one moment she seemed to come to life, the colour washing into her cheeks, but in the next she had turned to the man next to her and they moved away to their carriage. He watched as she was assisted inside the splendid equipage, but she did not turn her head to glance at him, though he knew that she had seen him.

She had deliberately drawn her husband away so that she did not need to acknowledge him. Hallam felt the knife twist inside him. Had she become indifferent to him? He’d thought not when they met at the ball, but now he was unsure. She had deliberately avoided speaking to him at the supper party. He was the fool for carrying a torch—a memory that was sacred to him was less than nothing to her. She probably found it amusing.

Recalling himself to the task of making sure the guests were all on their way to the house, Hallam finally settled into the last carriage with some of the other ushers. He had by this time steeled himself for the inevitable meeting with Madeline. She would be at the reception and he would find a way of speaking to her. He wanted to know that she was well and happy and then he would forget her.

Yes, he truly would, he vowed. If Madeline told him that she was content in her life, he would make up his mind to find a good-humoured lady who would be happy with a home and children—perhaps a widow who had memories of her own and would not expect love. If he could put the past behind him, then he would be content with a comfortable arrangement—perhaps even the lady he’d enjoyed a relationship with in Spain, though he believed her to have another lover now.

* * *

Hallam was here! Madeline had felt such a rush of emotion as she saw him that she had known she could not—dare not—meet him in her husband’s company. Lethbridge had demanded to know the name of the lover he imagined she had—and if she betrayed a sign of her feelings for Hallam Ravenscar, he would immediately believe that it was he.

Oh, how she wished that it were true. Madeline would give much to be in Hallam’s arms, to be kissed and caressed with tenderness. She recalled the sweet meetings beneath the apple tree that summer when she’d first fallen in love with the handsome young man. He had been home on a visit to his uncle and swept her up in a whirlwind of romance, vowing that he would return as soon as he could to ask her father for her hand in marriage. She’d believed that everything would be wonderful when he had leave from his regiment and that she would spend her life travelling with him wherever he was sent—but then his father had lost so much money gambling, as had her own. By the time he’d been given leave again, everything had changed.

No, she must not think of all she had lost. She must control her feelings and be careful to show nothing if they were forced to speak with Hallam at the reception.