His Makeshift Wife. Anne Ashley

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His Makeshift Wife - Anne Ashley


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as Briony was aware, had seen him on three occasions only since he had sold his commission and had left the army, and that was because she had gone to the trouble of paying short visits to the capital herself. Furthermore, why was it that a gentleman who wrote in such fond terms to his aunt could not even put himself out to attend her funeral?

      Increasingly Luke Kingsley was becoming something of an enigma. Quite unfathomable!

       Chapter Three

      ‘You may kiss the bride,’ the vicar had invited, his benign, lined face beaming with delight, Briony all too vividly recalled. And for one heart-stopping moment she had thought Luke had meant to exert his rights as a husband and do precisely that! But, no, he had kept his word and, after staring fixedly at the curve of her mouth for endless moments, had merely raised her left hand in order to press his lips lightly against the plain gold band he had slipped on her finger a short time before. But would he continue to keep to his part of the bargain now the knot was tied? That was the all-important question.

      Raising her head slightly, she peered through her long lashes down the length of the table at her sole dinner companion. For perhaps the hundredth time since the ceremony had taken place earlier in the day, the thought that she must surely have been utterly insane to have gone through with it once again filtered through her mind. What did she know of Luke Kingsley, after all? Next to nothing, if one disregarded the gossipmongers’ tittle-tattle. Even though he had visited the Manor several times during the past month, she knew little more about him now than she had when he had paid that first unexpected call, after his very long absence.

      Yes, he continued to remain an enigma. No, more, she decided, a dichotomy. She had seriously begun to suspect there might be two distinct and quite opposite personalities locked inside that well-muscled frame of his.

      Whenever he was in company he resembled nothing so much as the light-minded profligate the gossips had painted him since his return from the Peninsula. Yet, on other occasions, when they had chanced to be alone, she had thought she had detected a look in those attractive grey eyes of his that had betrayed innate wisdom, an expression flickering over those distinctly aristocratic features that had strongly suggested the shallow care-for-nobody attitude might well be assumed. But if so, why on earth should he wish the world to think so poorly of him? There must be some reason behind the feigned triviality, surely? Or was he merely putting on an act for his own amusement?

      ‘Something appears to be troubling you, m’dear? I sincerely trust you are not regretting so soon the vows you made? That would be unfortunate indeed.’

      So, the drawl, too, had returned, had it? That most certainly was assumed for her benefit, and the benefit of others, of course, Briony decided, favouring him with her full attention. ‘And I sincerely trust you do not give me cause to regret having uttered them,’ she parried, never having been afraid to speak her mind, at least where he was concerned. Which was most strange, now that she came to consider the matter.

      She could hardly admit to their having become friends during the past month. Perhaps the most she could own to was that, over certain matters, they were well on the way to achieving a better understanding and drawing up boundaries beyond which the other was prepared not to tread. For instance, he had made it perfectly plain that he had no intention of completely changing his lifestyle, merely because he had been prepared to relinquish his bachelor state; he had every intention of making visits to the capital during the next six months. For her part Briony didn’t object to this in the least. Not only would it offer her the golden opportunity to come and go as she pleased, without having to respect another’s wishes, but it would no doubt make him easier to live with if he was able to visit his present mistress whenever the inclination happened to take him.

      In fact, he had travelled to London on one occasion already during the past month. Although she wouldn’t have gone so far as to say she had been glad to see the back of him, it certainly hadn’t aroused the least resentment or jealousy in her breast to see him go. Whether he had taken the opportunity to visit his mistress or not she had no way of knowing, but he most definitely hadn’t been idle during his time away. He had arranged for several of his personal belongings to be brought down to Dorsetshire and had installed two of his own servants at the Manor.

      ‘No, nothing is troubling me,’ she assured him cordially, determined to do her part to keep their relationship as affable as possible, ‘except, perhaps, trifling domestic concerns. I trust you’ll find the master bedchamber to your liking. I hope you approve the colour scheme.’

      ‘I’m sure I shall. And so long as my own bed has been installed in there I’m certain I’ll be comfortable.’

      ‘It arrived earlier in the week,’ she was able to assure him, ‘and has been made up with fresh linen and merely awaits its master.’

      All at once there was a hint of an unnerving sparkle in those grey eyes of his. ‘All this talk of bed, madam wife, might give me every reason to suppose you’re eager to get me in there.’

      Now, how was she supposed to react to that piece of deliberate provocation? Briony wondered, deciding to nip such foolishness on his part in the bud. ‘What time you choose to retire, sir, is entirely your own concern.’ She rose to her feet. ‘But I have eaten my fill and so shall bid you good evening and leave you to your port.’

      ‘There’s no need for you to scurry away like a frightened rabbit.’ Although the drawl had disappeared completely, his eyes retained a glimmer of something, possibly a challenge this time. ‘It isn’t late and we must both accustom ourselves to being in each other’s company for at least part of most days. Besides which, I cannot imagine you’ve found the day such an ordeal that you must retire so early. Considering everything had to be arranged in such a short space of time, I thought things went rather well.’

      While speaking, he had risen to his feet and had come slowly down the length of the table towards her, bringing the port decanter with him. He was undeniably continuing to be deliberately provocative. Yet, behind the gentle goading, she sensed there was a genuine desire for her to remain. She hovered for a moment, undecided, then, against her better judgement, resumed her seat, curiosity having got the better of her.

      ‘No, I haven’t found the day an ordeal in the least, sir.’ She shrugged, attempting to appear more at ease than she in fact was, now that he had positioned a chair so close to her own that she could almost detect the warmth his body exuded. She watched the strong yet shapely hand tilt the decanter and fill a glass. ‘As—as weddings go, I suppose it did go rather well, even though it was perhaps unusually private,’ she added tentatively, feeling a little more comment was expected of her.

      He regarded her in silence for a moment. ‘Since the marriage was, to all intents and purposes, forced upon us, it would have been somewhat hypocritical to have had a grand affair to celebrate the union, attended by all our relations and friends,’ he pointed out. ‘Those who needed to be there to witness the event were present—Mr Pettigrew and … your Janet.’

      Was that a note of disapproval in his voice? ‘My Janet?’ she echoed.

      ‘She’s quite evidently become devoted to you.’

      Briony saw no reason to deny it. ‘Yes, I suppose we have become very close over the years. You don’t object, surely?’

      ‘No, not at all …’ his regard all at once became more intense ‘… providing, of course, your obvious affection for the housekeeper doesn’t induce you to confide in her more than is wise. The result might be unfortunate for you if you do.’

      Very much resenting the evident threat, she made no attempt to disguise the fact. ‘I have confided in no one, sir. You above anyone should realise how far I’ve been prepared to go to make this farcical union of ours appear real. Was it not I who suggested you should occupy your late aunt’s bedchamber so that we might be as close as possible in order to allay any suspicions with the household staff, which might ultimately result in gossip spreading throughout the locale? I assure you your mistrust is quite without foundation. I have every intention of keeping to my part of the bargain, providing you keep to yours.’


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