The Swordmaster's Mistress: Dangerous Deceptions Book Two(31)

‘I expect that is Faith, Lady Northam’s maid, with a message about the Coroner and the inquest. Go down and show her up please, Dover,’ he called. Either that or it was Sophie – who should know better than to go visiting building sites and bachelor’s lodgings.

He folded away his notes, closed the Peerage and stood up, listening. There was the tramp of hobnail boots going back down, Dover’s lighter tread, then a murmur of low voices, one of them female and unidentifiable, then the sound of two people climbing the stairs.

A black-clad, heavily-veiled figure came through the door with Dover close on her heels. ‘I am sorry, sir, but the lady insisted.’

Oh Hades, Guinevere. ‘Dover, go downstairs, make certain no-one disturbs us.’ He managed to hang on to his temper until the door closed behind the expressionless manservant. ‘What the devil are you doing here, Guinevere? Have you understood nothing of what I have been warning you about?’

Guinevere flung back her veil to reveal a white pinched face, reddened eyes. She should have lost all her beauty and the fact that, in his eyes, she had not, was enough to fan the flames of his anger with her. Jared strode to the window and looked out. ‘Do not tell me you came in your own carriage.’

‘Of course not. Do you think me a complete idiot?’ When Jared turned and simply looked at her, one eyebrow raised, she coloured up. ‘Well, not that much of an idiot, anyway. I came in a hackney.’

‘And where is Faith?’

‘At home, making a pretence of me lying down in my room resting.’

‘Wonderful,’ Jared said bitterly. ‘No sooner is the Coroner out of the door than you set about compromising yourself with the utmost thoroughness and involving a servant who may have to testify under oath.’

‘I am veiled, no-one saw me. At least, no-one could identify me,’ she flung back.

‘No? How many tall, slim ladies with expensive clothing and in heavy mourning do you think can be associated with me? What are the builders going to describe when the Coroner asks them who has been calling on me? What is Dover supposed to say if he is questioned in a court? Or me, come to that,’ he added.

‘You would not – ’

‘No, for you I would lie, under oath.’

‘Oh. Jared.’ Her hand went to her lips, the other closed on a chair back.

‘Because your husband paid me to protect your life,’ he added. ‘And that includes saving you from the gallows, Heaven help me, even when you seem to be doing your utmost to put yourself in the dock. So yes, I would perjure myself, I owe the man that, at least.’ She swayed as she stood and he pulled out a chair. ‘Sit. You look ready to faint.’

Guinevere stumbled, he reached for her and then she was in his arms, her face pressed against his shoulder, her body warm and fragile and shivering against his. His mind went dark with need and desire, blackened by anger and fear for her and his own disgust with himself.

She is a widow of less than a day, he raged silently. Stop this. Now.

The chair was there and he swung round and pushed her unceremoniously into it then went to take the one on the other side of the table. The shabby, old, mercifully solid, table.

Guinevere took a long, shuddering breath, then looked up. ‘I am sorry. I am very frightened.’

And so you should be. ‘We will get to the truth of this,’ Jared promised her and saw the tiny signs of relief, the infinitesimal relaxation of the tight lines around her eyes and mouth, the droop of her rigid shoulders. She trusted him and the knowledge was like a heavy load on his back. What if I fail? ‘But only if you tell me the truth yourself. All of it.’

‘I have!’ Her head came up sharply and she glared at him, radiating defiance.

‘The truth about your first marriage. The truth about your relationship with Lord Northam. Everything.’ When she looked down at her clasped hands he fisted his on the table, resisting the urge to get up and take her in his arms, shake the truth out of her. Kiss it out of her.

‘Start with Lord Northam.’ Perhaps it would be easier not to take her straight back to that first marriage. ‘Did you love him?’

‘Of course, as I would love a grandfather, an old family friend, a fond love. Was I in love with him? No and I never pretended to be. He knew that and he never pretended he was in love me either.’

‘Did you sleep with him?’ Jared asked bluntly.

‘No.’

‘Never? Not on your wedding night?’

‘No, never.’ She was blushing, but she met his gaze levelly. ‘I suppose you are now going to tell me that I am not legally married.’

‘Non-consummation is not the automatic grounds for annulment some people think it is,’ Jared said. ‘And, given that you had been married before, I doubt anyone could prove it in any case.’

‘That is what Augustus said. He told me that the spirit was willing but the flesh was weak, which is probably somewhat blasphemous, but was at least honest. And he described a birthmark in an intimate place and a scar at the top of his thigh which he said would be more than enough to convince both his valet and his doctor, should it come to it.’ She smiled faintly. ‘He had a wicked sense of humour, bless him.’

‘So why did he marry you?’

‘I asked him that when he offered for me. He said he was lonely, that he missed feminine company. I was in a desperate fix and I needed him and Augustus liked to be needed, to help people. His daughters had grown up and were a long way away and he was rattling around in that great house, he said, growing old and musty. I would open the windows, let the air in, make him wake up and pay attention.’ Her smile was firmer now, fond and reminiscent.