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Make-Believe Wife

Anne Herries

Prologue

‘Damn you, sir. I have had enough of your wild behaviour,’ the Earl of Hartingdon thundered at his grandson. ‘I shall not tolerate the disgrace you have brought upon us.’

‘Forgive me,’ Luke, Viscount Clarendon, said and looked contrite. ‘This should never have come to your ears. Rollinson was a fool and a knave to come prattling to you, sir.’

Tall and almost painfully thin, yet with a commanding presence, the earl’s bushy white eyebrows met in a frown of disapproval.

‘Do you deny that you seduced the man’s wife?’

Luke hesitated. The truth of the matter was that he had no idea whether or not he had seduced Adrina Rollinson. The evening in question was hazy to say the least. He had been three sheets to the wind and, when he’d woken to find himself lying next to the naked and undoubtedly voluptuous beauty, he had hardly been given time to wonder before her husband came storming into the summerhouse to demand satisfaction.

‘I can only tell you that I have no memory of it happening, sir.’

‘What sort of an answer is that, pray?’ the earl demanded. ‘You puzzle me, Luke. You have had every advantage and yet you insist on carrying your wildness to excess. If you cannot recall making love to a woman like Lady Rollinson, you must have been drunk.’

‘Indeed, that I shall own,’ Luke said instantly. ‘I would not call the lady a liar, but I doubt I was capable of making love that night.’

‘I suppose your taste is for whores?’

‘I do not know what you may have been told of me, sir, but I assure you I have done nothing of which I am ashamed.’

‘Indeed? I know that you have bought a house and intend to set up your mistress in Hampstead.’ The earl’s top lip curled in scorn. ‘You are a disgrace to your family. Thank God your parents did not live to see what you have become.’

‘Perhaps had they lived I might have been otherwise.’

‘Are you blaming me? Impudent pup!’ The earl’s eyes darkened with temper. ‘Well, sir, I have done with you. It was in my mind to make you my sole heir, for although the estate is entailed, the patent allows the title to pass through the female line and my fortune is my own to dispose of as I wish. However, I have a cousin who would restore both honour and fortune to the family name.’

‘Horatio Harte, I presume? I wish you joy of him, sir.’ Luke’s temper was barely in check. ‘Good afternoon. I shall not trouble you with my presence again.’

‘I did not give you leave to go.’

‘Yet I believe I shall. You have never liked me, sir. I have done things of which I am not particularly proud, but I am not the rogue you think me.’

‘Come back here!’ The earl’s voice rose petulantly. ‘You will hear me out. I shall give you one more chance, but you must marry a decent girl—one with perfect manners who knows how to behave in good society. I need an heir I can be proud of before I die.’

Luke turned at the door, denial on his lips. He would marry when and whom he wished and meant to say so, but even as he began the earl made a choking sound and sank slowly to his knees before collapsing in a heap on the floor.

‘Grandfather! Someone, give me some help in here.’

Luke rushed to his grandfather’s side. Rolling him on his back, he saw that his colour was slightly blue and acted swiftly in untying the tight starched cravat at his neck. He felt for a pulse and discovered a faint beat and yet his grandfather did not appear to be breathing. He was for a moment unsure of what to do for the best; then, recalling something he had once witnessed a vet do for the foal of an important mare, he opened his grandfather’s mouth and made sure there was no obstruction in the throat. Then he pinched the earl’s nostrils and breathed into his mouth. Luke repeated the action three times and noticed that a more natural colour had returned, though he had no idea if his actions had helped.

A voice spoke from behind him. ‘He has had one of his attacks, my lord. He will recover in a moment.’

‘He just keeled over. I thought he was dead or dying.’

‘Milord has had one or two close calls, sir. Nasty little attacks that the doctor can’t quite make out.’

‘Why was I not told?’ Luke rose to his feet. The colour was back in the earl’s cheeks now.

‘He did not wish to bother you, sir.’

‘The stubborn fool—’ Luke began and stopped as he heard a sound. The earl had his eyes open. He was staring up at them.

‘Don’t just stand there, fool. Help me up, Marshall.’

‘You should have told me you were ill, Grandfather.’

‘Stuff and nonsense! It is nothing. As you see, I am perfectly fine now.’

Luke and the butler helped him to his feet and assisted him to a sturdy mahogany elbow chair. Luke felt his body trembling and realised how thin and frail his grandfather had become. When had this happened? Why had he not noticed?

‘Forgive me, sir. Had I known you were ill…’

‘What? Would you have mended your ways?’ The elderly man’s eyes gleamed. ‘Want to make amends, eh? You know my terms. Get yourself wed and give me an heir.’

‘I am sorry you are ill, but I shall not make a promise I cannot keep. However, I will promise not to become so drunk that I do not recall with whom or where I go to bed.’

‘Not enough,’ the earl growled. ‘Leave me to Marshall and come back when you have a wife.’

‘Grandfather, that is unfair,’ Luke protested, for he was genuinely upset by the news of the earl’s ill health.

‘Unless you oblige me I shall not leave you a penny—and, what’s more, I’ll tell the lawyers to cut the allowance you receive from your paternal grandfather’s fortune.’

‘You cannot do that, sir. I have commitments…’

‘To your mistress, I suppose? Well, the choice is yours, Luke. The terms of the Marquis’s will state that I can limit your income until you are thirty if I so choose. I have never done so, but now I shall make a change. I need an heir soon, Luke—and I want you to give me a grandson. Marry well and everything will be as it was. Turn your back on me now and you’ll find yourself short in the pocket. Show me that you intend to settle down and make me proud of you.’

Luke hesitated, a grim set to his mouth. Had he not just witnessed his grandfather’s collapse he would have told him to go to the devil and bought himself a pair of colours while he still had the money. Yet despite his harsh words, there was something vulnerable about the earl, something that made Luke realise that deep within him he cared what happened to the old devil.

‘I must have time to think this over, sir.’

‘Yes, of course, and to find a suitable girl—but do not take too long, Luke. I may not have more than a year or so left to me.’

Luke inclined his head and left, feeling his temper surge as he curled his nails into the palms of his hand. He ought to walk out and never return. The lawyers would probably tell him that the earl was lying through his teeth—yet if it were the truth Luke would be in trouble.

He had made a promise to his best friend and nothing would make him break it.

Chapter One

Roxanne glanced back over her shoulder, listening for the sounds of pursuit, but all she could hear were birds calling one to the other as they flitted between the trees and the occasional snuffle of a small animal in the undergrowth. The woods themselves held no fear for her, but she was afraid of being made to return to the camp.

She had been walking for hours without stopping, but now she was hungry. She was fairly certain that no one had followed her. It must be safe now to stop and eat some of the food she had packed. Placing her larger bundle on the ground, Roxanne spread her shawl on the dry earth and sat down, opening the cloth that carried her bread, cheese and the preserved fruit she had brought with her. Sofia had always kept a jar of dried fruits on her shelf, because she said figs, dates and apricots were good to eat in the winter when they could not pick fruit from the hedgerows.

She missed Sofia so much! Her friend’s sad death had left her alone and in fear of the future. She had no one who cared for her and no one to care for. She was not sure which felt the worst, because she had enjoyed caring for her friend in her last months when she became too feeble to care for herself.

Blinking away her tears, Roxanne rose to her feet and gathered her bundles. Sofia had been one of a band of travelling players, almost a mother to her, and she had given Roxanne so much, even her name.

‘If anything happens to me you should go to London,’ Sofia had told her only a few days before she died. ‘You are a fine actress, my love. You could find fame and fortune—and perhaps marry a man of substance and be the lady I believe you truly are.’

Roxanne had begged her not to talk of dying, tears stinging her eyes, but after her death it had become clear that Roxanne could not stay with the band of travelling players with whom she had lived for the past five years. She was in danger and her only choice was to run away before he returned to the camp.

She had made up her mind that she would get to London if she could, though it would mean walking for many days, perhaps weeks. Before she reached the great city, she would need to find work for a few days to earn her food.

Lost in thought, she was startled as she heard a loud cry and then a horse came crashing through the trees towards her. It was saddled, but without a rider, its reins hanging loose, and she realised that someone must have fallen.

Instinctively, she ran in the direction from which the cry had seemed to come. She had gone only a few yards when she saw a man lying on the ground. His eyes were closed and his face looked pale. Her heart caught and for a moment she thought he was dead. Dropping her bundles, she knelt by his side and touched his face. He felt warm and she drew a breath of relief. His fingers were moving and he was still breathing, though seemed unaware of her. He must have been knocked unconscious by the fall from his horse.

She hesitated, then unwound his white stock from his neck; taking out her precious store of water, she poured some of it onto the fine linen and began to bathe his face. His lips moved, a groan issuing from him, then his eyes flickered open and he looked up at her.

‘What happened?’ he muttered. ‘Who are you?’

‘My name is Roxanne. I think you fell from your horse. It came rushing at me through the trees and I heard your cry.’

‘It was the fox,’ he said and pushed up into a sitting position. His dark grey eyes fixed on her face. ‘It started up just in front of us. I tried to stop, but I was riding hard and the stupid horse reared up in a fright.’

‘The horse was startled. They are nervous creatures, sir. If you were riding too hard, the fault was yours.’

‘The devil it was.’ His slate-coloured eyes narrowed, became intent and suspicious. ‘What is a lady like you doing alone in these woods—dressed like that?’

Roxanne hesitated, for to tell him her true story was too risky. She did not know him and should use caution. He was undoubtedly a gentleman and Sofia had warned her to be careful of the gentry, for they were not to be trusted.

‘I was with a band of travelling players, but I had to leave. I am trying to get to London to find work as an actress.’

‘Are you indeed?’ His gaze was unsettling. ‘I see you have water, Miss Roxanne. Will you give me some?’

‘I used some to bathe your face, but you may have a few sips.’ Roxanne handed him the stoneware flask and he lifted it to his mouth, drinking deeply. ‘Please leave some. I may not find a stream to refill my flask for hours.’

‘I passed a stream not far back,’ he replied. ‘But if you are making for London you are walking in the wrong direction.’

‘Oh…’ Roxanne frowned as he handed her back the bottle. ‘Perhaps you could—’ She broke off as he attempted to stand and shouted with pain. He swayed and would have fallen had she not caught hold of his body and supported him. ‘Where does it hurt?’

‘My right ankle,’ he groaned. ‘I think it must be broken. If I sit down again, could you take the boot off for me?’

‘Do you think that wise, sir? The boot will probably have to be cut off if your ankle is broken—and a doctor should do it. Sofia would have known how to treat you, but I do not have her skills.’

‘Who the hell is Sofia? Is she with you?’

‘She was my dearest friend and she died recently.’

‘Sorry,’ he muttered, his face white with pain. ‘I have a knife. Cut the damned thing off and bind the ankle with the stock. It will have to do until we can find an inn and a doctor.’

‘We—are you expecting me to go with you?’

‘How do you imagine I can get anywhere alone? Or were you planning to go on and leave me here?’

‘Your temper does not help your cause, sir. If you will sit, I shall attempt to do as you ask—and, no, now you mention it, I was not planning to abandon you.’

His eyes narrowed in annoyance, his mouth set hard. ‘You speak in the tones and manner of a lady, yet you say you are an actress. You must be a clever one.’

‘Sofia said I could play royalty to the manner born,’ Roxanne said, helping him to lower himself to the ground so that she could attend to his ankle. ‘She was once a courtesan and had both royal and aristocratic lovers in her youth so I imagine she would know how they behave.’

‘She sounds quite a remarkable lady?’

‘She was wonderful.’ Roxanne hesitated, then ran her hands down the length of the boot. Not yet! She would not tell him too much too soon. ‘It is difficult to tell while this is on, but I think you may have a break just above your ankle. It will hurt too much if I try to pull the boot off—have I your permission to cut the leather? I dare say it may have cost a great deal of money.’

‘I have other pairs; just do it.’ He thrust a hand into his pocket and brought out a silver penknife.

‘I think I have something better.’ Roxanne opened her large bundle and took out a long thin dagger. ‘The blade is very sharp. It will slit the leather easier than your knife.’

‘Good grief, what are you carrying a dangerous thing like that for?’

‘I am a woman travelling alone. I needed to be sure I could protect myself.’

‘Remind me never to try to seduce you when I’m drunk.’

‘Are you in the habit of seducing women when drunk?’

Roxanne’s eyes held a sparkle of amusement as she glanced at him and then back at the boot. It was long and tight fitting and obviously the best quality. She inserted the knifepoint into the leather and began to slit the length of the boot. Her patient groaned once or twice as she worked, a muffled cry escaping him as she finally drew it from his foot.

‘Damn!’ he muttered as her fingers began to explore his ankle and the region above. ‘It hurts like hell.’

‘I think there is a small break just above the ankle,’ Roxanne said. ‘The flesh is not torn, but there is a bump where there ought to be straight bone—it might have been worse.’

‘You cannot feel the pain,’ he muttered fiercely.

‘I am certain it hurts, but I shall bind it with your stock and use the last of the cold water. That may stop the swelling from becoming too bad, but I am not an expert, sir. If we can make you comfortable enough to ride your horse, it will be much easier for you to continue your journey.’

‘Supposing we could find the damned creature.’

‘I dare say it will not have gone far. I will look for it after I’ve bound your ankle.’

‘You’ll go and leave me here.’ He looked angry, as if he believed she would simply walk away.

‘I promise I shall not. All I have in the world is in these bundles. If I leave them with you, I must return.’ She finished her work and rose to her feet. ‘Try to rest until I return with the horse.’

‘And if you cannot find it?’

‘I shall return and try to help you, though it may be best to fetch help. Wait patiently if you can. I shall not be long.’

‘Damn you,’ he muttered through clenched teeth. ‘You’re made of iron. You should have been born a lady, you belong with the starched-petticoat brigade.’

‘Sofia always said I was from good family.’ Roxanne smiled. ‘Lady or not, I shall not desert you, sir.’

She walked back the way she had come. The horse had been in a blind panic, but once it stopped its mad flight it would stand and wait to be reclaimed by its owner. She must just hope that it had not injured itself because she needed it to be strong enough to carry them both and her bundles.

Luke cursed as he reached into his coat pocket and took out his pocket flask, which was still half-filled with brandy. His ankle was hurting like the devil and the girl had been gone too long. If she did not come within a few minutes, he would have to try to find help himself. If he ignored the pain, he might hobble far enough to find a farm or a woodcutter’s hut. He was attempting to rise when he heard a rustling sound and, a moment later, the girl appeared through the trees leading his horse.

‘I thought you had decided to leave me after all,’ he said a trifle sulkily. ‘You were gone a long time.’

‘Your horse was not sure he wanted to come to a stranger. He was a little shy at first, but we have become friends now.’

She led the horse to Luke. ‘I think he will carry us both and my bundles, sir. If not, then I can walk beside you. I do not think you capable of riding hard this time.’

‘Impertinent wench.’ Luke scowled at her and then laughed. ‘You remind me of my Great-Aunt Dorethea when she was young.’

‘Indeed? I’m not sure whether I should be flattered or insulted.’ Roxanne’s brows arched. ‘Do you think you can mount if I hold the horse?’

‘Flattered. I admired her. Give me your arm, Miss Roxanne. I need you as a crutch.’ Holding on to her arm, Luke levered himself on to his left foot. He hobbled towards the horse, then, as she held its head steady, took hold of the saddle and belly-flopped over it, using the strength of his arms and body to pull himself into a sitting position. Beads of sweat had gathered on his brow by this time, but he controlled his desire to yell out with pain. Roxanne had fitted her bundles round the pommel of the saddle; then, with an agility that surprised him, she took his outstretched hand and swung herself up behind him. ‘You’ve done that before?’

‘I’ve been riding horses barebacked since I was thirteen or so. We did an act that involved my having to jump up on to a moving horse.’

‘You are full of surprises, Miss Roxanne. I thought you a lady at first, but no lady of my acquaintance could do what you just did.’

‘A lady might not have been near when you fell,’ she reminded him. ‘I may not be a gentlewoman in the sense you mean, sir—but I will thank you to show me the proper respect. I am not a lightskirt and shall not be treated as one.’

Luke glanced over his shoulder. ‘How do you imagine I would treat you if you were a whore?’

‘I have no idea how a gentleman behaves with a lady of easy virtue, though Sofia told me that gentlemen are invariably the worst. I only know that I did not like the way Black Bob looked at me.’

Luke was intrigued. ‘Who is he and how did he look at you?’

‘He is the leader of the troupe and looked at me as though he could see through my clothes. He told me that now Sofia was dead, he would claim me as his woman—so I ran away.’

‘You have run away from your people?’

‘Yes. He had to go somewhere on business and so I took my chance while he was gone.’

A rueful laugh escaped Luke. ‘And you ran into me. Well, Miss Roxanne, I must thank my lucky stars that you did. If you help me as far as the next inn, I shall return the favour by hiring a coach to take us both to London.’

Roxanne stiffened. ‘I told you, I am not a whore—and I shall not be your mistress.’

‘Have I said that I wish you to be? I am merely repaying a favour, miss—and if you have any sense you will accept my offer. A girl who looks like you will have offers enough, I dare say, but most of them will not be to your liking. If you are to become an actress you will need patronage, and you may as well accept mine as another’s.’

Roxanne’s breath caught. She almost wished she had walked away from him in the woods. He could surely manage now he had his horse.

‘Put your arms about my waist,’ he instructed. ‘Hold on tight, Miss Roxanne. My ankle is painful and we had best find an inn before I pass out and you have to cart me there in an unconscious state.’

Roxanne did not reply. She put her arms about his waist, holding him tightly. She did not fear him, as she did Black Bob, but if he were to fall unconscious she might have difficulty in getting him safe to an inn. Perhaps the feel of her at his back would keep him awake long enough to reach the nearest inn. She hoped that he would not fall senseless, because she had no idea of where she was headed and the sooner he reached a doctor the better.

Roxanne could have no idea how very aware Luke was of his passenger, her full breasts pressed against his back. He had noticed her perfume as soon as he became conscious and found her bending over him. It was light and yet sensual, unlike any he had smelled on the ladies he met either in society or in the world of the demi-monde he sometimes frequented. She was different, unusual, and he’d felt intrigued from the first.

Roxanne was a woman most men would notice, her figure not willowy slender, but athletic—statuesque, might be a good word. She reminded him of the marble figure of Diana the Huntress he had commissioned for his country house, which stood in a fragrant corner of his garden, but warm with life and passion instead of white and cold. He could imagine what the leader of the travelling players had planned for her and the thought brought a frown of anger to his brow.

Damn the man for his impudence!

Clearly, her friend Sofia had been a person of influence, protecting the girl as she grew to womanhood, but once she was dead, Roxanne was at the mercy of any rogue who saw her. Luke did not know why that thought made him angry, but his protective instincts had been roused and, in thinking of her and ways to make certain she was protected, he was able to fight off his pain.

He cursed himself for riding carelessly as a wave of faintness washed over him and it took all his willpower to stay in the saddle and hold on to the reins.

‘I could take control of the horse if you wish, sir. He would respond to me, as he did earlier.’

Roxanne’s words jerked him back to reality and her arms about him helped fight off the faintness. He must stay awake, because he needed to be in command. She must not be allowed to slip away when they reached the inn. He could not lose her yet; he needed her help.

‘I can manage,’ he growled. ‘It cannot be much further.’

‘I pray you are right,’ she said and her arms tightened about him, as if she would save him from falling.

A sharp wave of desire shot through Luke, bringing him to his senses more surely than any words. He laughed deep in his throat—it was like him to want the unobtainable. Luke had met with little resistance in his adult life; the ladies were usually more than willing to share his bed—or even entice him into the summerhouse. It was ironic that the first one to evoke such a strong response in him for an age had placed herself out of reach.

Roxanne had made it clear she would not be his mistress and in all honour he could not use his charm to persuade her after all she had done. However, it would not suit him if she were to run away. He might never see her again, and that thought was sufficient to stave off both the pain and the faintness. An ironic smile settled over his lips. She had already shown herself compassionate; perhaps the best way to keep her with him was to plead his need of a nurse or helper to see him home.

‘Hold me tighter,’ he said. ‘The pain makes me faint. I beg you, do not desert me, Miss Roxanne. In this state I am helpless and at the mercy of unscrupulous rogues—men who would see me dead as soon as look at me.’

‘You have enemies?’

‘An enemy,’ Luke improvised. ‘You accused me of riding too hard, but I was trying to escape from him when the fox startled my horse.’

He justified his lie to himself. His enemy was the bitter anger that had been festering inside him since the interview with his grandfather. The Earl of Hartingdon’s unfair accusations and his outrageous demands had smouldered in his brain, making him careless.

‘Will you be safe when you reach London?’

‘Yes.’ Luke waited, holding his breath. ‘Once I am home I shall be perfectly safe, but I need help lest I lose consciousness and lie ill by the wayside.’

‘It is true that not everyone would help if you became ill of a fever. I know that men like Black Bob might take advantage and rob you.’ Roxanne seemed to hesitate, then, ‘Very well, I shall not abandon you. I will see that a doctor is fetched, and, if you are ill, stay with you until you are home. I will nurse you and care for you should you need it. However, you must give me your word not to take advantage, sir.’

‘You have my word as a gentleman,’ Luke said. ‘I am Luke Clarendon, a man of independent means and of good family. You may trust me, Miss Roxanne. Watch over me until I am fit again. I shall reward you by taking you to London—and I will introduce you to the manager of a theatre.’

‘Very well, it is a bargain,’ Roxanne said and her arms clung comfortingly to him once more.

Luke smiled. He did not think she would break her word for she might have done so in the woods. If he could delay their journey for a few days, she might come to like him—and once they were in London, he would find a way of keeping her with him.

Chapter Two

The inn they came to a little later was a small posting inn, not one of those Luke had frequented in the past, but decent in appearance; its yard was swept clean and the groom who came running to help respectful and eager to serve.

‘Mr Clarendon has had a fall from his horse,’ Roxanne said and slid down from the saddle unaided. ‘He cannot walk without assistance. We need a room for him and one for me—and a doctor must be called at once, for his ankle is hurt and he is in great pain.’

Luke moaned as he slid down from the horse and his injured leg jarred. The action had caused the pain to intensify and he swayed as the faintness swirled in his head. Roxanne and the groom rushed to his aid, managing to save him from a further fall. The groom shouted for help and another two came running.

‘Ned, take the gentleman’s horse—Jeremiah, help me and then fetch the doctor. Mr Clarendon is in pain with his ankle.’

The two grooms supported Luke towards the inn, which was a modest building, with whitewashed walls, a thatched roof and small leaded windows. Luke glanced over his shoulder and drew a sigh of relief as he saw Roxanne was following with her bundles. His whole leg was throbbing now and he felt very faint. Indeed, he might have fallen had the grooms supporting him not been strong men.

He was supported into the inn. A large portly man came to greet them, his knowing eyes going over both Luke and then Roxanne.

‘Would you be needing a room for you and the—lady, sir?’

‘We need two rooms,’ Roxanne said. ‘Mr Clarendon has hurt his ankle. I think there may be a small break. One of your grooms has gone for the doctor. However, I shall be nursing Mr Clarendon until we leave.’

‘And who might you be, miss?’ The landlord’s brows met in a frown.

‘I am Mr Clarendon’s new governess,’ Roxanne said in a clear firm tone. ‘He has employed me to teach his nephew. My horse was lost in the woods; it ran off and we could not waste time looking for her. My name is Miss Roxanne Peters.’

Luke glanced at her, resisting a grin. It appeared that she could spin a tale as easily as he. The landlord looked uncertain whether to believe her, but was galvanised into action by a moan of pain from Luke.

‘Take the gentleman up to the best chamber,’ he commanded his minions. ‘The governess can have the smaller room two doors down.’

‘Thank you, landlord,’ Luke said and glanced back at Roxanne. ‘Follow us up, Miss Peters. I shall want you in attendance when the doctor arrives.’

‘I shall be with you in a moment, sir.’

The landlord had gone before them. He gestured at the room that was to be Roxanne’s, leaving her to make her own way while continuing further down the passage.

Roxanne went inside the small room. There was a narrow iron bedstead with a white counterpane, blue curtains at the window and a small chest of drawers. To a girl who had been used to living in a caravan it was perfectly adequate. Roxanne dumped her bundles on the floor, took the key from the inside of the door and locked it as she went out, pocketing it safely. Her possessions were not valuable, but they were all she had and she could not afford to lose them—nor did she wish the landlord to go poking his nose into her things.

Walking quickly to the room where she had seen them take her employer—she had decided that the best way to go on was to act the part of an upper-class servant—Roxanne entered and saw that the landlord was standing by the bed. Both the grooms had gone.

‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘I can manage him now.’

The landlord turned, his eyes narrowed and not exactly friendly. Roxanne felt a prickling at her nape. Mr Clarendon seemed barely conscious. She had a feeling that had she not been here to protect him, he might well have been robbed of his possessions. Perhaps she was wronging the landlord, but she was not sure he was honest.

‘Right. I’ll send the doctor up when he gets here.’ He looked at her hard. ‘I’ll be wanting five shillings a night for this room, two for yours—food and the doctor extra.’

‘Yes, of course. You will be paid. Mr Clarendon is a respectable man and we should not dream of running off without paying you.’

‘You better hadn’t. Jake Hardcastle never forgets a face—and I reckon I’ve seen yours before, but I can’t recall where. You weren’t a governess then.’ He leered at her. ‘If I don’t get paid one way, I can take my dues another.’

‘Will you please leave us.’ Roxanne’s manner was haughty, more the great lady than a governess. ‘After the doctor has been we shall want food—perhaps some good chicken broth and fresh bread.’

He inclined his head, but made no other answer. Leaving the room, he paused to look back as Roxanne bent over the bed.

‘Mr Clarendon,’ she said, placing a hand to Luke’s forehead. He was feeling warm and a little damp. She thought perhaps he had started a fever. ‘Do not worry. I am here. I shall not leave you.’

The sound of the door shutting soundly made Roxanne look round. The landlord had gone and when she turned back, her patient’s eyelids fluttered and then opened.

‘Has he gone?’ he muttered. ‘The place looks decent enough, but that fellow is a rascal. I don’t trust him. You won’t leave me, Roxanne?’

‘Miss Peters. I am your employee, remember?’

A wry laugh was wrung from his lips. ‘You will make a damned fine actress, Roxanne. You reminded me of a strict governess I once had—she frightened the life out of us all, except the earl.’

‘The earl? Who is he?’

‘Oh, just someone we lived with when I was young. He isn’t important.’ Luke moaned and beads of sweat appeared on his brow. ‘I am sorry to make so much fuss. I wouldn’t have thought a broken bone could be so painful. I do not recall it hurting this much when I broke my arm as a youngster.’

‘You had to ride here and be manhandled up the stairs. I have not been trained to set broken bones and the bandage I applied may have made the pain worse. When the doctor comes he will rebind it and give you something to help you sleep.’

‘Will you sit with me while I sleep? Or perhaps you should keep the money with you? I do not trust him.’

‘Nor I,’ she admitted. ‘Do you trust me with your gold?’

‘What choice have I?’ Luke reached out to touch her hand as she frowned. ‘No, that was badly put. Yes, I trust you, Roxanne. It is odd, but I feel I have known you for ever. I know you will not desert me, for you have given your word.’

‘Then I shall put the money somewhere safe.’

‘It is in my coat pocket, in a leather purse. I do not know exactly what is there but it should be enough to see us safely back to London.’

Roxanne examined his coat and found the purse. She opened the strings and counted the gold, holding it out on her hand so that he could see.

‘You have ten gold sovereigns, sir. I think it should be adequate for the journey, don’t you?’

‘You did not need to show me. I told you, I trust you. Now put them somewhere safe.’

‘Yes, I shall.’

Roxanne turned her back on him. Lifting her skirts, she located the secret pocket sewn into her petticoats and added the gold to her secret treasure. It felt heavy, making her very conscious of its presence, but she would become accustomed to the extra weight.

She turned back and saw Luke staring at her.

‘It is the safest place I know. My bundles could be searched or snatched.’

Luke nodded, his eyes narrowed and thoughtful. ‘You are a resourceful woman, Roxanne. I wonder what your secret is—what you are not telling me?’

‘Why should you think I have a secret?’

How could he know? No, he could not. He was just testing her.

‘I shall not pry,’ Luke said and yawned, closing his eyes. ‘You keep your secrets, Roxanne—and I shall keep mine.’

Roxanne turned her head. How had he sensed that she was hiding her secret? She had not told him about the day Sofia found her wandering, all memory of her previous life gone. Nor had she told him about the jewel she carried in her secret pocket. Sofia had told her she had been clutching it tightly in her right hand when she was found and refused to let go for days. She also carried a lace kerchief with the initials R. P. embroidered into the corner in red. Sofia had said the name Roxanne suited her. They had never bothered with a second name and she had used Peters when the innkeeper asked, because it was the first to come to her mind. She had once done some sewing for a Lady Peters and been given a gold sovereign for her trouble.

Sofia had hidden the ruby safely and Roxanne had forgotten its existence until her friend reminded her as she lay dying. Sofia had said she should sell the jewel, but Roxanne was not certain she had the right to do so, for she did not know whether it belonged to her or someone else. Had she stolen the jewel and run away from her home—or her employer?

Why had she refused to let it go for days?

She hesitated, considering whether she ought to tell Luke Clarendon the rest of her story, but the moment had passed; she heard the sound of voices outside the door and then it opened and a man entered. He was dressed in a shabby black coat and knee breeches, the battered hat he deposited on the chest having seen better days. However, his linen looked clean and he nodded his head respectfully as he approached the bed.

‘The gentleman took a fall from his horse, you say?’

‘Yes,’ Roxanne replied. ‘He has been in considerable pain since.’

‘I shall examine him,’ the doctor said and bent over Luke, pulling back the covers. He unwound the stock Roxanne had used and ran his fingers over the swollen ankle, frowning and nodding to himself. ‘I think this may be a case of dislocation rather than a break. Your employer has been lucky, miss.’ Hearing a moan from the patient, the physician turned his gaze on him. ‘This may hurt a bit, sir. I am going to…’ He pulled Luke’s leg out straight, making him yell out with pain as something clicked. ‘Yes, I thought so. It will be painful for a while, but I shall put a tight bandage on and visit again tomorrow. You will need to rest for a time, but in a few days it should start to mend. You had dislocated the bones just above your ankle and the ligaments will be inflamed, but I am sure the bones themselves are not broken.’

‘I pray you are right,’ Luke muttered between gritted teeth. ‘It hurts like hell now.’

‘Yes, I dare say it may.’ The doctor dipped into his bag, brought out linen bandages and rebound Luke’s ankle and above to his calf. ‘That should help the damage to settle and it will heal naturally. I’ll give you something for the pain.’ He delved into his bag again and took out a small brown bottle. ‘This will help you sleep, but it is dangerous if you take too many doses. You will have to measure it—just four drops into a cup of water every six hours. Miss Peters, is it?’

‘Yes, that is my name,’ Roxanne lied and took the bottle. ‘Is this laudanum?’

‘Yes—have you used it before?’

‘A friend of mine used it sometimes. I know that it must be handled carefully, sir.’

‘Then I can trust you to look after our patient.’ He glanced down at Luke. ‘You will sleep soon, Mr Clarendon—and there should not be a fever, but if it happens you may send for me again.’

The physician took his leave. Roxanne carefully measured the drops into a glass of water. She helped Luke to sit up and he took the cup, gulping it down and draining the lot. Then he lay back against the pillows with a sigh.

‘I was selfish to ask you to sit with me. You should go to bed and rest.’

‘I shall sit here by the fire for a while. The doctor says there will be no fever, but I want to be sure you are peaceful. You were warm and sweaty earlier. I thought you might take a fever, but perhaps now you can rest you will soon feel better.’

Roxanne sat down by the fireplace. Someone had lit the fire when they brought Luke Clarendon up and it was just beginning to draw well. Her room had no fire and she might as well sit here in comfort—but she would lock the door first, just in case she dozed off.

Roxanne woke with a start. The fire was still burning so she could not have been asleep long. She got up quickly and went to the bed, bending over Luke. He appeared to be sleeping peacefully and when she placed a hand to his forehead, he was only slightly warm.

If he had not made a sound, what had woken her? She went to the door and stood with her ear against it, listening.

‘Is anyone there?’ she asked softly, but received no answer. ‘What do you want?’

Another sound alerted her and she turned swiftly towards the window, just in time to see a man’s face looking in. Someone must have fetched a ladder to try to gain entrance that way after realising the door was bolted on the inside. Instinctively, Roxanne bent down and retrieved the iron poker from the fireplace. She approached the window, raising her arm high, making it clear that she was ready to repel any intruder. For a moment she stared at the face looking in. The features were coarse and common, unknown to her. Aware that he had been spotted, the man hesitated and then disappeared. Roxanne looked out and saw the top of his head hurriedly descending the ladder, which he then picked up and ran off with towards the stables.

Roxanne’s legs felt slightly shaky as she sat down by the fire once more. She had not known the man attempting to enter by way of the window, but she was certain the landlord would. Her instincts had been right. Their host was a rascal and it would not be safe for her to leave Luke Clarendon alone while he was in a drugged sleep.

For a moment she wondered if the doctor had been in with them, but Luke seemed to be easier now and she thought the physician had known his job well enough. She shivered and bent down to place another log on the fire. If Luke were well enough to hire a carriage of some sort, they would do better to move on as soon as they could.

‘Have you been to bed at all?’ Luke asked as he opened his eyes and looked up at her. She had been applying a cool cloth to his brow. ‘That feels good, but I do not have a fever. My mind is quite clear now. I think I slept for a long time?’

‘Yes, you did. I stayed with you all night. There was an attempt to gain access through the window, but it woke me and I faced the intruder down with the poker. He ran away, back to the stable.’

Luke’s mouth thinned. ‘In league with the innkeeper I imagine? Some of these fellows are rogues. Not content with their pay, they will rob the unwary.’

‘He must have thought you were alone. I am afraid I have wasted two shillings of your money. I did not use the room I asked for at all.’

‘Well, you should go there now and rest. But first, give me my pistol—it’s in my coat, the inside pocket—and then ask the landlord to bring food and drink, Roxanne. I doubt he will try anything in broad daylight, but if he does I shall show him I’m no fool. I shall enquire what kind of transport is for hire—but if there is none available here we shall go on together on my horse.’

Roxanne fetched the pistol from amongst his things and handed it to him. Had she known it was there, she might have used it to protect them instead of the poker the previous night.

‘Are you sure you can manage to move on so soon? The doctor said you should rest and he would come again today.’

‘My ankle feels sore at the moment and there is some pain in my calf, but the excruciating pain of yesterday has gone. I would rather leave if I can manage it.’

‘If we can hire a chaise of some sort, will you leave your horse here?’

‘I doubt I should see it again. I shall pay the man for the hire of his vehicle and change at the next posting house, but take my horse with us.’

‘I confess I cannot wait to see the back of this place. Had I not been with you, you would certainly have been robbed as you slept.’

‘I should not be the first vulnerable traveller to die in his bed at the hands of rogues calling themselves landlords.’ Luke frowned. ‘I have much to thank you for, Roxanne. It seems as if you have saved me from my own folly more than once.’

‘I have done nothing any decent person would not,’ she said, a faint flush in her cheeks. ‘Travelling with you will save my small store of money and I shall reach London sooner.’

‘I might not have reached it at all without you.’

Luke’s gaze was so warm and so intent that her cheeks flamed and he laughed as he saw her discomfort. ‘Now I have embarrassed you. Forgive me, Miss Roxanne. I have not forgotten my promise. I shall not try to seduce you—at least until our bargain is at an end.’

‘You should not try it at all, sir. You will be disappointed. I have no intention of becoming your mistress—or any other man’s.’

‘So you say.’ Luke smiled lazily. ‘You are far too beautiful to remain untouched for the rest of your life, Roxanne. Someone will persuade you to part with your innocence—I should prefer that it was me.’

‘I think you must have a fever, sir. You hardly know me—and you should know better than to mock me.’

‘I was not mocking you, Roxanne. Believe me, there are not many women who make me feel the way you do—but I shall not tease you, because I might frighten you away. I may be able to leave this place soon, but that doesn’t mean I am safe until I get to London.’

‘Are you thinking of your enemy?’ Roxanne looked concerned. He might be arrogant and too sure of his power to charm, but she did not fear him, as she had Black Bob. ‘I thought it was one of the landlord’s rogues trying to rob you last night, but your enemy may have followed you here to try to kill you.’

‘No, I do not think so.’ Luke frowned and wished he had not spun her such a tale. ‘He might want to punish me, but he would not kill me.’

‘Oh—then I dare say it was not he.’ Roxanne looked thoughtful and he wondered what was in her mind. ‘If you truly know a theatre manager who might give me a trial, I should be grateful.’

‘I shall help you, as you have helped me,’ Luke promised. ‘Whatever else I may be, Miss Roxanne, I am not ungrateful. One day I may try to make you my mistress, a position you might find to your liking if you gave it a chance, but it shall not be while we journey together.’

Within two hours, they had left the inn. The groom who had first aided them the previous day was driving a chaise, which was in reasonable order, with Luke’s horse tied and trotting behind. Roxanne sat beside Luke on the seat facing forwards so that they could see the groom’s back. He had told them his name was Harold and seemed likeable. Hopefully, he was honest, but they would only need his services until they reached a well-known posting inn a few miles further on the London road. Roxanne was not sure what Luke Clarendon had said to the innkeeper, but though he had looked at her in a surly way when they left, he had not spoken to her disrespectfully. She had previously returned Luke’s gold to him and he had paid for their lodging and the doctor’s fees.

Roxanne was certain their host had added extra to the bill for himself, because his charge of two guineas for the doctor’s visit seemed extortionate to her, but Luke had paid it cheerfully.

‘It was worth treble for the relief he has afforded me,’ Luke said. ‘I am still in pain, but it is bearable now.’

‘I am glad to hear it.’ Roxanne was thoughtful. If Luke Clarendon was capable of travelling alone now, she ought to leave him and make her own way. He had offered her help, but she was uncertain of the price she might be asked to pay.

Sofia had so often warned her to be careful of gentlemen, especially those who smiled and promised her help or a fortune. This man was charming and handsome, but she did not quite trust him.

Well, he might attempt seduction, but she did not believe he would force her—the way Black Bob would have had she stayed with the travelling players. Luke Clarendon was a gentleman, after all.

Roxanne knew that his warnings were valid. If she became an actress, she would be offered protection by various men—perhaps the manager of the theatre himself or gentlemen who came to watch her perform. If she gained admirers, she might follow in Sofia’s footsteps and become the mistress of an aristocrat or even royalty. It was not what Sofia had wanted for her or what she planned for herself, but it might be impossible to avoid some such relationship.

Why not a man she had already begun to like?

The thought had wormed its way into her mind against her will. Roxanne did not wish to become any man’s mistress, but if it was inevitable— Her thoughts were interrupted as Luke glanced at her.

‘You look pensive, tired. Why do you not lean your head back against the squabs and sleep for a while? I think we may trust Harold. Relax your guard and rest.’

‘Yes, perhaps I shall.’

Roxanne leaned her head back against the squabs, closing her eyes. When Luke Clarendon looked and spoke to her in that way her defences crumbled. He was such an attractive man and she was beginning to like him all too well.

When she woke an hour or so later, the chaise was drawing into the yard of what was clearly a prestigious inn. She discovered that she had been leaning against Luke’s shoulder and apologised, her cheeks warm.

‘Forgive me, sir. I hope I have not made you uncomfortable. Does your leg pain you very much?’

‘It is sore and, yes, a little painful,’ he said. ‘I shall live, Miss Roxanne—and you did not make me uncomfortable at all.’

The groom had brought the chaise to a halt. One of the inn’s employees had come to open the chaise door and let down the step. Seeing that Luke was carrying an injury, his breeches split and opened to allow for the bandages, the man offered his hand, helping him to descend. Luke did so slowly and carefully, his flinch of pain not going unnoticed by either the ostler or Roxanne.

‘I have suffered an accident, as you see, Johnston,’ Luke said with a friendly smile at the man who clearly knew him. ‘If you would have someone care for my horse and ask someone to give this kind fellow something to eat before he goes on his way again. Please help me inside yourself.’

‘Yes, sir, of course,’ Johnston replied and signalled to his minions, who came running and were given curt instructions to see to the horses.

Roxanne frowned as she thanked Harold for bringing them here safely and gave him a shilling of her own money for himself.

‘I’m sorry if you weren’t treated right at the last place,’ he said and pulled his cap. ‘I heard what happened, but I didn’t know until I was told what you did, miss. You were right brave.’

‘I do not think you belong at a place like that, Harold.’

‘No, miss, nor don’t I,’ he agreed. ‘I stayed because it were better than being on the road, but when I take this rig back I shall give me notice and look for work elsewhere.’

‘I am sure you will find it,’ Roxanne said and inclined her head before following Luke into the inn.

When she entered she saw him in close conversation with a man who looked to be the landlord. He was a very different man from the last one they had met; portly and pleasant-faced, he smiled and nodded at her in a friendly way.

‘This gentleman has told me he owes his life to you, miss. I know there’s more than one who should be grateful to you. My wife will take you up to a nice comfortable room and look after you. I dare say you are very tired.’

‘I slept a part of the way here,’ Roxanne replied. She looked at Luke, her fine brows raised. ‘Have you asked our host to fetch a doctor, sir? I think your leg may need further attention—just to make certain it has been properly treated.’

‘Don’t you worry, miss. His lor…his honour is in good hands now.’

Roxanne heard the change in the landlord’s tone and his hasty correction. What had he been going to say? It was clear that Luke Clarendon was well known and respected here—but how was he normally addressed?

She frowned as the landlord’s wife came to greet her, curtsying respectfully. ‘Come this way, miss. We are always glad to have his lordship come to stay—’ She clapped her hand to her forehead. ‘There, if Sid didn’t tell me I was to call Lord Clarendon his honour. My tongue runs away with me, so it does—but everyone knows who he is so why not say it openly?’

‘Why not indeed?’

Roxanne felt her cheeks getting warmer. What a fool she was not to have made sure of her facts for a start. He had told her his name was Luke Clarendon and she had assumed his title was plain Mister. He must have been laughing at her behind his hand.

Luke Clarendon was an aristocrat and therefore not to be trusted. Sofia had told her that they were the worst of all and warned her never to lose her heart to a member of the upper classes. ‘If you do, he will use you and then abandon you. Take notice, child, for I know of what I speak.’

Roxanne felt her stomach knot with a mixture of anger and disappointment. For a short time she had begun to think that perhaps Luke really liked her—so why had he not told her he had a title from the start?

He had pretended to trust her, but he hadn’t trusted her enough to tell her who he really was. She felt the sting of tears, but blocked them out. There was no sense in crying. She didn’t know Lord Clarendon at all and, after listening to Sofia’s opinion of the aristocracy for years, she was sure she did not wish to. Her friend had warned her that they were all the same: proud, arrogant and ruthless.

‘They know how to be charming and they will smile and tell you they adore you, but underneath they are cold and heartless. They will not marry out of their class—and they toss you to one side when they are finished with you. The English aristocracy are the worst. Some foreign royalty are kinder and more generous. Never trust an English gentleman, Roxanne—particularly if he tells you he will always love you. Just take what you can from him and move on before he does.’

Roxanne kept her anger in check as she followed the innkeeper’s wife along a hall and into a room. It was large and comfortable, well furnished and, with a fire burning in the grate, warm.

‘This is next to his lordship’s chamber,’ she said. ‘He always has the same one when he visits on his way to stay with the earl.’

‘Who is the earl?’

‘Why, his grandfather, of course.’ The woman gave her an odd look. ‘I thought you would know that, miss, being a cousin of his lordship.’

‘Yes, of course. There is more than one earl in the family.’

Her quick answer banished the other woman’s frown. ‘So there will be,’ she replied and laughed, her large bosom shaking. ‘Silly me. Now, is there anything more you need, miss?’

‘May I have my supper here, please? Just something light—and I would love a cup of tea.’

‘Yes, of course you would. You ladies love your pot of tea and bread and butter—but I’ve a nice pie cooking and some chops for his lordship. His lordship is partial to a nice chop or two.’

Roxanne inclined her head. She was so angry that she barely knew how to answer. One part of her mind was telling her to walk out now and make her own way to London. If Harold had not left, he might have taken her a bit further before returning the rig to its owner. Yet if she did that she would not have the chance to tell Lord Clarendon exactly what she thought of him and his lies.

The warmth of the fire was enticing and Roxanne’s feeling of annoyance faded as she moved closer, holding her hands to the flames. There was nothing to stop her moving on alone, because Lord Clarendon was amongst friends and would be properly cared for. Her instincts told her that she might be laying up trouble for herself if she stayed here and yet she was seduced by the thought of a warm bed, the fire and some hot food.

What harm could it do to travel on with him, even if he had not been entirely honest with her?

It was good to be in a house again instead of the cramped conditions in the caravan… Now where had that thought come from?

Try as she might, Roxanne had never been able to remember anything about her previous life. Sofia was convinced she had run away from her home, that she was the child of gentry, but had been in some terrible danger.

‘Something happened to you, my love,’ Sofia had told her. ‘You were frightened and ill. In your fever you spoke of many things, of places you’d seen and people you knew. For weeks you woke crying and screaming, frightened of a dream, but you could never recall it. It is the reason I did not try hard to find your family. If you ran away in such distress there must have been a reason—and I would not give you back to people who might ill treat you.’

Had Roxanne’s family mistreated her? Sofia had burned her clothes, because she said they were not fit for use and could tell them nothing about her past, except that they were of good cloth.

Roxanne shook her head. If her family had wanted her, she would not have been wandering the roads alone and in such a state. It hardly mattered where she had come from. Sofia had been like a mother to her, giving her all the love she instinctively knew had been missing from her previous life. A wave of grief swept over her, bringing tears to her eyes. She dashed them away with her hand, determined not to give into foolishness. Sofia was gone and she must manage alone.

Faced with walking the rest of the way to London alone or travelling in a chaise with a gentleman, who was truly in no condition to ravage her, she thought she must be sensible and choose the latter. If Lord Clarendon tried to seduce her as he recovered his strength, she could leave him and go on alone.

Removing the black-velvet cloak that had been Sofia’s, a relic of the days when she had moved amongst gentlemen of fortune and their mistresses, Roxanne sat on the edge of the bed. Her dress had also belonged to Sofia when she was a young woman; though old-fashioned, it was of good cloth with a low, dipped neckline, in which Roxanne had sewn a frill of soft cream lace for modesty’s sake. Amongst her things was a silver hand mirror that she had inherited from her friend, an ivory comb and a bristle brush. She took them out and then tidied her dark red curls, glancing at herself once before replacing them securely in her bundle.