Ann Lethbridge - Regency Society

Luke was aware of a sense of unease. He knew that he was being drawn into something beyond his control. What exactly did Roxanne want of him? She had refused to enter a sham marriage at first, but now she seemed prepared to become his wife and to give him an heir.

Could he trust her? More importantly, perhaps, could he trust himself? The feelings he’d had for Roxanne from the beginning had grown stronger, but surely a night in her bed would satisfy his hunger. It had always been that the chase was more important to him and he soon tired once the game was won. Perhaps he was a shallow fellow, incapable of feeling more than a fleeting affection—if that were so, why was he beginning to feel obsessed by Roxanne and a need to know the truth about her past?

He was a fool to let down his guard. Until he was certain this was not all an elaborate plot to ensnare him he refused to feel more than liking for her. He had met many beautiful women, but none had touched his heart—why should it be different now?

Roxanne glanced at herself in the mirror as she prepared for dinner that evening. Why had Luke kissed her that way earlier? She could not convince herself that he cared for her, so why had he suddenly kissed her with such intensity? Was it merely a passing impulse—or lust?

He’d told her that he did not believe in romantic love, yet he knew how to please a woman in bed. Her mouth felt dry and her stomach cramped with nerves. Luke felt physical desire for her and he would be a passionate lover.

She supposed men often felt desire for a beautiful woman. Roxanne had seen lust in the eyes of men many times, but she had never been kissed like that because she’d always avoided any involvement. Sofia had warned her to be careful, telling her that men were not to be trusted—especially the aristocracy.

Was she a fool to let herself be used both by the earl and his grandson? They both wanted something from her, but were either of them prepared to give her anything of value in return? Luke had offered an income, but money was not important to Roxanne. She wanted to be respected, liked, even loved for what she was—especially by Luke.

How foolish she was to have let down her guard even for an instant. Luke had made it plain from the start that he did not wish for a true marriage. It was a business arrangement and she must accept it—or walk away.

To walk away would cause too much pain. She had become fond of the earl and must do nothing that would bring on his illness. Luke might come to admire her qualities in time and it should be possible to have mutual respect.

Was that enough in a marriage? It had to be, because Roxanne knew that she could not expect more from a man who refused to give his heart.

‘Would you like to wear your hair up this evening, miss?’

Roxanne’s thoughts were recalled to the present. She looked at the face of her young maid and smiled.

‘Yes, thank you, Tilly. I shall have it dressed with a ringlet for the ball, but tonight I would prefer it to be quite plain.’

‘Yes, miss.’ The girl took up the brush and began to stroke it through her hair, leaving Roxanne free to continue her thoughts.

That evening they dined with friends of the earl and Roxanne began to understand what her life would be like here. Although curious, the earl’s neighbours were friendly and prepared to accept her, because Hartingdon had made his wishes clear.

‘This young woman has done wonders for the house already,’ he remarked to a gentleman of similar years. ‘I never expected to see such a day and I am truly grateful to her. Clarendon is fortunate to have found her.’

‘I’m sure he knows it,’ General Forster said and nodded approvingly. ‘Luke, you must bring Miss Roxanne to dinner soon—and I should be delighted to take you fishing in our lake one day, should you care for it.’

‘Very kind of you, sir,’ Luke said and sent a brooding glance at Roxanne. She thought that he was learning to play his part very well. ‘It is a while since I went fishing.’

‘Do you enjoy music, Miss Roxanne?’

She turned to the young man sitting beside her. ‘Yes, Sir James, very much. I fear I am an indifferent pianist, though I am attempting to improve.’

‘Do you sing at all?’

‘Yes, I do,’ Roxanne said, recalling some of the performances she’d given when with the players. ‘I enjoy listening to others play and sing. I also enjoy the performance of a play.’

‘Ah yes, I’m fond of the theatre myself.’ He beamed at her. ‘You put me in mind of something, Miss Roxanne. I mean no insult when I say that you remind me of an actress I once saw. She was very talented, but just a provincial actress, not famous at all—however, the likeness is superficial.’

‘I am glad to hear it,’ Roxanne said and laughed, hiding the fact that his remark had made her heart beat fast. ‘Tell me, where was she performing?’

‘I hardly remember—an open-air performance, as I recall, at an inn or somewhere like. Do not be offended by the comparison, for I meant none.’

‘I am not offended.’ Roxanne smiled as the moment of panic receded. He did not remember her. ‘If the lady was talented there is no reason.’

She had been apprehensive for a moment but she saw there was no need. Even though the young man had undoubtedly seen her performing, he did not dream that Roxanne was the actress he’d watched. He thought the likeness superficial, which indeed it was for she had changed considerably since those days. That girl had been left far behind as she became more confident and sure of her place here.

‘Oh, very talented. I thought she belonged on the London stage. I would have spoken to her about it, but I could not stay until the end of the play.’

‘Roxanne, may I speak with you?’

She stood up as Luke came up to her, nodding her head to her companion and moving aside to the window.

‘You looked slightly disturbed. James was not annoying you?’

‘He wished me not to be offended, but saw a vague likeness in me to an actress he’d once watched performing somewhere.’

‘Ah, I see…’ Luke nodded, his gaze intent on her face. ‘You are not distressed?’

‘No, certainly not.’ Roxanne lifted her head proudly, every inch the great lady. ‘You wished to speak with me?’

‘I forgot to mention it earlier, but a seamstress is coming down in a couple of days. She has made a gown for the ball for you and will fit it and make any adjustments needed while she is here. I thought you might like her to make a wedding dress for you? We shall buy most of your trousseau in Paris after the wedding—if that suits you?’

‘Of course, if you think it necessary.’ Roxanne’s heart thudded in her breast, her throat tight suddenly and for no good reason. ‘Your grandfather looks a little tired. If there is nothing more, I shall see if he wishes to retire.’

‘No, nothing more,’ Luke replied with a little frown.

‘Then please excuse me for the moment.’

Luke watched as she walked to the earl. The old man listened to what she said to him and then inclined his head. Roxanne gave him her arm and they left the room together. For a moment the earl’s face was unguarded and his grandson saw real affection in his eyes as he responded to her caring.

It was evident that a bond had formed between them while he was absent. Luke wasn’t sure how he felt about the situation. Roxanne seemed fond of the earl and sure of her place here. For a moment he was irked by the affection between them. Roxanne had found a way past the prickly outer skin the earl had used to shut out everyone else, including his grandson. Why was he prepared to accept her when he had shown little but indifference towards his own flesh and blood?

Luke ought to be delighted that his plan to make his grandfather’s last days happy was working so well and yet once again he had a sense of unease—almost fear. It was ridiculous to feel trapped. He could walk away, go back to London whenever he chose, and yet something was holding him here. It was as if invisible chains bound his limbs and he did not understand his own feelings.