His Makeshift Wife

Letting his hand fall, Luke rose from the bed. ‘I shall never again enter this room unless bidden to do so. You have my word on that. Goodnight, my dear.’

Briony couldn’t have responded even had she wished to do so. A painful obstruction had unexpectedly lodged itself in her throat, making speech impossible, and her pulse was racing, though no longer through fear. That portion of her face that had been touched by, oh, so gentle fingers continued to tingle strangely, and the unerring feeling that she had just rejected something very precious entered her mind and remained there to torment her long after she had watched the light disappear from beneath the communicating door.

By morning she was once again feeling more herself. Her resolve had reasserted itself and restored her determination to play her part in the mock union in order to secure what promised to be a very comfortable future existence, once the farcical marriage had been annulled.

She woke much later than usual, a circumstance that certainly didn’t seem in any way extraordinary to Janet, who brought in a breakfast tray and cast her young mistress a long, considering look. The smile she received in response appeared to please her because she went about the room humming a ditty as she twitched back curtains to her satisfaction and rearranged several items on the dressing table.

‘I trust you slept well, mistress?’

‘Eventually … yes.’

The housekeeper’s smile widened at this response. ‘Master Luke’s up and about already,’ she revealed. ‘I expect he wants to familiarise himself with all the old property again. People tend to forget that, apart from the large garden, the Manor has quite a bit of land attached to it. Besides which, two of his other people arrived earlier this morning, bringing a whole string of horses with them, not to mention a couple of carriages. The stables must be fair full, I shouldn’t wonder.’

This succeeded in capturing Briony’s interest. She’d always enjoyed riding herself and was curious to see what kind of horses Luke now kept in his stables. Whether she liked him or not—and the jury was still very much out on that particular issue—honesty obliged her to own that he had been a fine judge of horseflesh even in his youth, and she doubted that would have changed. ‘I’ll wander over to the stables presently myself.’

‘Well, you take your time, Miss Briony … Oh, there I goes again! Can’t get used to calling you madam.’

‘Don’t concern yourself, Janet. I don’t object.’

‘You might not. But I dare swear the master would. He’s already taking an interest in your well being, bless him! Said as how you weren’t to be disturbed too early and that you’d be taking breakfast in bed.’

Briony wasn’t altogether sure she cared to have another making decisions for her. She wasn’t accustomed to breaking her fast in bed; although she didn’t object to doing so this morning, she had no intention of making a habit of it just to please the new master of the house. So the sooner she made that perfectly plain the better!

After the wonderful dinner she had consumed the night before, she wasn’t feeling particularly hungry and was soon setting the tray aside and turning her attention to getting herself ready for the day ahead. She had finished dressing and was on the point of seating herself before the dressing table in order to do up her hair in a simple chignon, when she noticed the housekeeper staring fixedly down at the crumpled mound of bedcovers.

‘Something amiss, Janet?’

The housekeeper turned to look at her young mistress, her expression clearly troubled. ‘I trust not, Miss Briony … I sincerely trust not.’

Chapter Four

As Briony approached the stables she discovered her late godmother’s devoted stableman, Samuel Dent, sitting outside the coach house, whittling away on a piece of wood. His face broke into a near-toothless grin when he finally caught sight of her and he made to rise.

‘No, sit yourself down, Sam. It’s all been very hectic out here this morning, so I understand.’

‘That it ‘as, miss. Takes me back years to when Master Luke were a lad. Always kept a string of fine ‘orses ‘ere back in them days, afore ‘e joined that cousin of ‘is up at Oxford. Master Luke always ‘ad an eye for a fine piece of ‘orseflesh. And so ‘e should. Taught ‘im m’self! Sat ‘im on ‘is very first pony not long after ‘e were breeched.’

Although this was news to Briony, it didn’t altogether surprise her. Sam had worked for Lady Ashworth nearly as long as Janet had and therefore had known Luke as a boy. Seemingly he held his late mistress’s nephew in the same high regard.

She cast a speculative glance at the larger stable. ‘Is your master about now, Sam?’

‘No, ‘e be over at the lodge, Miss Briony,’ he answered, thereby revealing that he, like Janet, hadn’t quite grown used to her new status. She wasn’t in the least offended. Had the truth been known, she wasn’t accustomed to it herself yet.

‘What on earth is he doing over there? I recall he did spend a deal of time there when he fancied a day’s shooting and wanted an early start. But the place hasn’t been used for years.’

‘Told ‘im so m’self, Miss Briony. But ‘e said as ‘ow ‘e didn’t expect it would take much to put right and ‘as gone over to take a look at what needs to be done to the place with that servant of ‘is by name o’ Carey. Seemingly this man Carey be going to stay at the lodge to take care o’ the stallion the master’s ‘ad brought ‘ere. Can be summut skittish by all accounts. But, then, they can all act up from time to time, like young men that does need to sow wild oats, so to speak.’

Briony decided it might be wise to steer the conversation into a slightly different direction. ‘Evidently your new master intends to breed horses, Sam.’

‘Seems so, miss. I said as ‘ow the beast could go in the smaller stable away from t’other ‘orses. But master said as ‘ow ‘e’d ‘andle easier if ‘e were kept at a goodly distance. And master should know.’

Leaving Sam to continue whittling in peace, Briony wandered into the larger stable to discover an unknown youth settling four fine bays into their respective stalls. Beside them, already champing happily away on hay, were two fine greys and a handsome chestnut gelding.

Curious to see the other animal that had arrived that day, Briony wandered through the large kitchen garden in the direction of a gate set in a high brick wall, which sheltered the more delicate plants from damaging winds. Beyond the wall were several fields where Lady Ashworth had kept various types of livestock during her lifetime, more than enough to provide meat and poultry for the household throughout the year. Beyond the easternmost field was a small wood. This, too, had been the sole property of Lady Ashworth and had provided her eager young nephew with plenty of game to shoot.

Although she had been taught to handle a gun herself, and was judged to be a fine shot, Briony had never been keen on reducing the number of rabbits and pheasants herself. Even so, she had wandered through the wood on countless occasions during the years she had lived at the Manor, so had no difficulty whatsoever in locating the single-storey, half-timbered structure nestling among the trees, adjacent to a large thicket.

She spotted the tall figure of her husband almost at once, standing outside the stable attached to the lodge. He was in earnest conversation with a man of below average height who, like herself, scarcely reached Luke’s shoulder. As she drew closer she noticed the stranger walked with a limp; noticed, too, that they ceased talking abruptly the instant they detected her footfall. Moreover, unless she was much mistaken, there was a hint of disquiet flickering across Luke’s features, as though he suspected she might have overheard some part of their private discourse, a moment before his expression changed completely and he came smilingly forwards to greet her.

‘Why, my dear!’ He reached for her hand and held it firmly in his own. ‘I didn’t expect to see you up and about so early.’

‘Not so early,’ she returned. ‘And I’m not accounted a slug-a-bed as a rule.’ She cast a brief look at the man who was staring fixedly in her direction, as though attempting to get her measure, and then raised one fine brow in a questioning arch as she turned her full attention back to her husband. ‘I trust I do not intrude?’

‘Not at all, m’dear,’ he returned with courteous aplomb, though whether he truly meant what he said Briony wasn’t altogether sure. ‘In fact, your arrival is most timely,’ he added. ‘It offers me the opportunity to make known to you Ben Carey, who has been with me for a number of years.’

As he touched his forelock politely, he limped a pace or two towards her, thereby drawing her attention once again to his disability. ‘Would I be correct in assuming that you met in the army, and that is also where you acquired your injury, Ben?’

‘That you would, ma’am,’ he answered, in a distinct north-country accent. ‘Got wounded at Oporto—lost part of my knee. Were lucky to have kept my leg, as it happens, but my marching days were over. Would have been sent home and kicked out of the army to live I don’t know what kind of life if it hadn’t been for the Major here. Took me on as his personal servant—his batman, like. Been together ever since.’

Clearly he was devoted to Luke. And understandably so, Briony mused. Evidently her new husband possessed an altruistic streak, which he did his utmost to refute a moment later by announcing that he had profited more by their association.

‘After all, to whom else could I entrust such a fine piece of horseflesh as Vulcan?’

This succeeded in capturing Briony’s attention. ‘Would that be the stallion you’ve had brought to the Manor?’

‘It would indeed. Would you care to make his acquaintance?’

She didn’t need more persuasion than that and eagerly accompanied both men into the stable, which she saw at a glance had already been restored to good order after years of neglect, before her attention was well and truly captured by the magnificent creature pacing his large stall.

‘Part Arabian, part Irish-bred stock,’ he enlightened her, as his much-coveted possession stuck his head over the wooden barrier to receive his customary treat.

Briony couldn’t forbear a smile. ‘I see you spoil him. But I cannot say I blame you. He’s truly magnificent.’

‘He is indeed,’ her husband wholeheartedly agreed, a moment before his teeth flashed in the most wickedly provocative grin Briony had ever witnessed in a member of his sex. ‘And like most virile young males he behaves much better if offered a sweetener.’

Suspecting a double meaning, Briony flatly refused to be drawn and, for the second time that morning, wisely changed the subject by asking if the animal could be ridden.

‘Yes, but only by me and Ben here, who manages him remarkably well considering the stiffness in his leg,’ he responded; although he had spoken lightly, there was no mistaking the clear edge of warning in his voice.

‘Let me assure you I have no intention of attempting to do so,’ she declared with feeling. ‘I haven’t forgotten what happened the last time I rode one of your precious horses.’

He was totally bewildered, and it clearly showed. ‘Pray refresh my memory! What did happen?’

‘You tossed me in the lily pond upon my return to the Manor!’

Ben Carey’s shoulders shaking in suppressed laughter only served to ignite one of his master’s occasional lapses into devilment. ‘Upon my word! All I can say is I must have been in a rare good humour that day. You wouldn’t get off so lightly if you attempt the like again!’

This was hardly destined to act as a salve on a young woman’s bruised ego and it didn’t. Nor did the servant’s sudden loud guffaws help to lessen the feelings of ill usage she’d experienced all those many years ago.