What Rumours Don't Say Page 4

  She was tempted to ask him what was the matter but kept silent instead, wrapping her arms around her as she suddenly felt the chill in the room.

  He pulled the window shut. “Tomorrow, I will depart for London.”

  “May I ask why, my lord?”

  “Rest assured, I am not going to see any mistress, as I have told you I keep none, nor do I plan to take any,” he answered.

  She looked at him, still waiting for an answer.

  He frowned. “You and Rosalind seem to be alike in wanting to be privy to my affairs.”

  “Perhaps because we are both concerned about you, my lord,” she said.

  “Suffice it to say that it is a matter of business.”

  “Ah.” She rubbed her arms. “I seem to recall hearing that before.”

  “As you will many more times in the future,” he told her. “I have a lot of business matters to attend to, after all.”

  She said nothing.

  “I will be back in a few days,” he went on. “When I return, we shall talk.” He approached her to stroke her cheek. “And you may expect, Madam Wife, that I shall continue what was begun here.”

  He gave her a look that told him he was utterly serious about his promise, though it sounded more like a threat, making her feel warm and chilly at the same time, and then left the room, leaving her just as bewildered as she had been on her wedding night. Unlike before, though, this time, she did not feel any despondence, not even a hint of sadness. Instead, all she felt was a sense of relief as her consternation diminished, and strangely, even a sliver of joy.

  I was simply giving you time to settle in.

  So that was it, after all. He had not been ignoring her or casting her aside. He had simply been waiting for her to become comfortable with her new home and her new life.

  At that thought, she could not help but smile. She could not help, too, but feel a surge of renewed hope as she brushed a fingertip against her lips, tracing the skin which, just moments ago, had been imprinted with his.

  She suddenly could not wait for her husband’s return.

  “Now, you must be patient,” Lady Caroline, the Countess of Westbury, said as she picked up her cup of tea. “Sometimes, it takes time for the children to arrive – I myself had to wait four years and suffer two miscarriages before my three daughters and then, my son, Henry, arrived. Then again, you don’t seem to appear in a hurry to set up a nursery.”

  “No, I am not,” Axelle admitted.

  Having learned that the Countess of Westbury was in residence at the Westbury Manor right next to the Ravenhall estate, she thought it was only proper for her to pay the other woman a visit. She was also hoping that it would distract her from Reeve’s absence, which had already taken three days, which was why she was now having tea with Lady Caroline.

  “And I imagine your husband disapproves of it,” Lady Caroline said.

  “He is giving me some time to settle in.”

  “Don’t tell me the marriage has not yet been consummated?” Lady Caroline stopped just before she held her cup to her lips to give Axelle a mingled look of surprise and horror.

  “It has been,” Axelle lied calmly, trying to disguise the fact that the question appalled her. She had known that married women, who had the freedom to discuss anything among themselves so long as they did so discreetly, were inclined to discussing matters that took place inside the bedchamber, which she supposed was no surprise since unmarried women were forbidden to speak of those particular matters or even contemplate them, but it still appalled her to be involved in such a discussion herself and in so casual a manner. She had vowed not to dabble in such matters, after all, having resolved to utilize the freedom that came with her elevated status to discuss more enlightening topics.

  It seemed, however, that Lady Caroline was intent on such a discussion, much to her misfortune.

  “It is good that your husband is considerate and all, though I admit I have never imagined him to be such,” she went on after taking a sip from her cup. “But you must not allow your husband to neglect his duties in the bedchamber. If you must, seduce him. It is your right. Otherwise, your husband will turn elsewhere for the relief of his lust. Men, after all, are…”

  “I appreciate your concern, Lady Caroline,” Axelle interrupted the older countess. “But I believe I shall place my trust in my husband.”

  “Of course you will.” Lady Caroline set down her cup. “You have only been married less than a fortnight.”

  Axelle said nothing, sipping her tea in silence.

  “Forgive me if my words seem a bit much,” Lady Caroline said. “But it is simply concern from one woman to another.”

  Axelle still said nothing.

  “I am especially concerned for you, I must admit,” the other countess went on. “After all, your husband has already displayed interest in a woman of the streets.”

  Axelle set her cup down and looked at Lady Caroline curiously. “You mean Anne?”

  “Why, don’t tell me, dear, that he has not told you anything about her?” Lady Caroline gave another horrified look.

  Axelle did not answer.

  “Poor child, he has kept you completely in the dark, hasn’t he?” Lady Caroline’s expression turned into one of sympathy. “Then again, I suppose he would rather forget it, considering he…”

  “Considering he what?” Axelle asked, leaning forward.

  “It is best for you to hear it from him, dear,” Lady Caroline said. “It is not something at all for a woman of dignity to divulge.”

  “I see.” Axelle leaned back.

  “Though of course, perhaps it would be better if you never heard it at all,” Lady Caroline added. “It is in the past, after all, and it was such a tragedy. You must simply look forward to your future and perhaps, pray that you will not share the same fate as that poor Anne.”

  “I fear it is difficult to avert a fate I know nothing about.”

  “Ah, there is that,” the other countess agreed. “But let us not stray to such distressing matters. Tell me more about yourself. Tell me, do you miss London? I’m sure there is a lot you must be missing…”

  Axelle was missing, or at least she did not seem to be at the Manor at the moment, Reeve thought as he exited into the rear courtyard of the Manor, having already searched the house for a sign or his wife and found none.

  He had hoped she would welcome him warmly upon his return or at least, be at the Manor. He had been eager to see her, after all, having strangely missed her more than he ought while he was away, and had even brought a present for her, which was why his return had been delayed. He had expected, too, that she would be happy to see him after that passionate kiss they had shared, which she had seemed to enjoy so much he had hardly been able to tear his mouth away from hers.

  Yes, it had been difficult for him to end that kiss, which had resulted in much discomfort on his part afterwards that he had hardly managed to sleep, and yet he had mustered the strength to do so, simply because he had hoped that kiss would leave her wanting, asking for more, and perhaps less defiant and more pliant to his wishes, if not eager to throw herself into his arms as soon as he returned.

  Apparently, his hopes had been futile.

  With a scowl, he walked to the stables and approached one of the grooms. “Where is Axelle?”

  “Her ladyship has not returned from her afternoon ride, my lord,” the groom answered.

  Reeve’s eyebrows creased. “Isn’t she usually back by this time?”

  The groom nodded.

  Reeve’s frown deepened. “Was she unaccompanied?”

  “She prefers to ride alone, my lord.”

  “And what mare did she take this time?”

  “It was a stallion she took this time, my lord, said she could ride one just as well as any man can.”

  “Which stallion?”

  “The chestnut one, my lord.”

  “And did she mention where she was headed? What route she was taking?”

 
; The groom shook his head.

  “I see.” He scratched his chin. “Prepare the black stallion at once. I shall go riding after her.”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  Reeve watched as the groom went to fetch the stallion, then sent a servant to fetch his riding gloves and boots.

  He had no idea where Axelle was – given her penchant for wandering around on her own adventures and the unpredictable temperament of the stallion she took, she could be lost anywhere amid the acres of lands he owned – but he was determined to find out and bring his wife home at the soonest opportunity.

  Axelle was, in fact, already on her way home, having left the Westbury estate after finishing her tea. At first, Lady Caroline had been reluctant to let her go but she had insisted, saying that she had to go home to see to supper before Reeve returned, which was not exactly a lie since he could already be on his way home or worse, he could already be home and waiting expectantly and perhaps even impatiently for her return.

  At that thought, she spurred the chestnut stallion beneath her into a gallop, intent on reaching the Manor as soon as she could. After a few minutes, however, she noticed the horse getting tired and so she pulled him to a halt beside a stream and dismounted, fastening the end of the reins to a low tree branch.

  As she watched the horse drink, she silently berated herself for having chosen the chestnut stallion over the grey and white young mares she usually rode, not having anticipated that she would go for a long ride, which the stallion was apparently not used to. She regretted having gone to visit the Countess of Westbury more, though. Already, she had formed a dislike for the older countess, not only because she was pretentious like many of the women she had met in London but also because she reminded her of her Aunt Gertrude in the way she seemed to fawn over her with feigned, unnecessary concern.

  Just the recollection of their conversation made Axelle want to yawn and roll her eyes at the same time. Still, there had been one interesting thing she had said, or had almost said that had caught her attention, the one regarding Reeve and Anne’s death.

  Leaning on the tree, she wondered what Lady Caroline had been about to say, detesting the other countess more for not simply having said it on the pretense of propriety.

  Why would Reeve want to forget her? Because he had driven her to her death just as the rumours had said? Because he had murdered her?

  Well, he might have refused to talk about her, but he definitely had not forgotten her. Besides, as cold and intimidating as Reeve could be, Axelle knew he was not capable of murder, especially not of the murder of a woman he loved.

  She was still speculating about Anne when a voice interrupted her thoughts, and when she turned her head, she saw a few shepherds approaching the stream with their flock of sheep.

  “Have you heard?” one of the shepherds, a tall, young lad, spoke. “It seems Ravenhall finally has a proper countess. I heard Sally say that she isn’t quite the beauty but at least, she can ride a horse and apparently knows how to cook.”

  Upon hearing the words, Axelle was tempted to reveal herself then and there, horrified that she was being the subject of gossip even in the countryside, but her curiosity won out and so she decided to conceal herself behind the tree, pulling the horse back to hide with her, and listen in a little longer.

  “The previous countess…”

  “Oh, come on. She was no countess, Roger,” another voice cut in.

  “Well, she never rode a horse and Sally said she hardly spoke to the servants.”

  “Probably because she was a commoner just like them. One could just tell by looking at her.”

  “You saw her?”

  “She sometimes took walks around,” the man answered. “She looked pretty, alright, but I knew the Earl would tire of her. If he hadn’t killed her because of the babe, I’m sure he would have…”

  At that moment, Axelle appeared from behind the tree, deciding it was opportune to make her entrance, and cleared her throat. Seeing her, the three shepherds stopped talking at once, their mouths gaping as they seemed to realize who she was. Then, quickly, they took off their hats as Axelle moved closer to them.

  “Do these sheep belong to Ravenhall?” Axelle asked, her gaze sweeping across a small group of sheep near the stream.

  “Yes, my lady,” the oldest shepherd answered. “We can take the flock elsewhere if…”

  “There is no need for that,” Axelle said. “I was simply passing by on my way back to the Manor.”

  “There are more sheep this year, my lady,” the younger shepherd who had spoken first offered. “Not too many getting sick.”

  “That is fortunate,” Axelle said, though she wasn’t really interested in the sheep. “Do you live in the village?”

  “We live in a cottage just over the hill, my lady,” the oldest shepherd replied.

  “I see.” Axelle nodded. “So you are living on and off my husband’s land and yet you have the daring to call him a murderer.”

  “We meant no offense, my lady,” the oldest shepherd said. “We didn’t…”

  “If I ever hear you speak ill of his lordship again, I will have you cast out of these lands no matter how long you have lived here,” Axelle said. “And let everyone else you meet know the same.”

  “Yes, my lady,” they all answered meekly, their voices barely above whispers and their heads bowed.

  “It was true that his lordship’s first wife was murdered, though,” the younger shepherd added.

  “Thomas,” the older shepherd chided.

  The younger shepherd ignored him. “So her ladyship must take care…”

  “I will take care of her myself,” Reeve’s voice interrupted them, making the three men bow their heads lower and Axelle quickly turn around, her eyes glistening with astonishment at the sight of her husband atop his able-bodied ebony stallion.

  Five

  “My lord?” Axelle asked, trying to read her husband’s expression.

  Reeve ignored her, turning to the shepherds. “If you value your lives, you will not speak of my former wife again. Is it understood?”

  “Yes, my lord,” the oldest shepherd answered with his hand still bowed down.

  Reeve turned to Axelle. “Let us be on our way home, Madam Wife. I have had a rather exhausting day and prefer to recline by the hearth before a hearty supper.”

  “I understand, my lord.” Axelle unfastened the reins of her horse and mounted it.

  As soon as she had, he drove off and after giving a nod to the shepherds, Axelle rode after Reeve, tugging at the reins so that she could keep up with her husband.

  He was going too fast however, seemingly in a hurry to reach the Manor since his horse was in full gallop, and so by the time she caught up to him, they had already arrived at the front courtyard, both of their stallions covered with a sheen of sweat from the exhausting run. Axelle herself felt a little breathless, her cheeks flushed and tendrils of her hair out of place, having been whipped by the wind out from under her hat and their pins. She did not allow that to deter her, though, quickly following after Reeve as soon as she had dismounted in hopes of speaking with him.

  “My lord,” she called to him, gathering her skirts so she could walk faster. “Forgive me. I was not aware that you would return today.”

  “Indeed?” He continued walking, not even glancing at her. “I would never have guessed.”

  “I…” She stopped when she recognized the sarcasm in his tone. “You sound displeased, my lord.”

  “I have just come back from London, riding on horseback in haste for nearly a day only to find that my wife, whom I hoped would be delighted at my return, is not yet home and that I have to ride yet again to search for her and ensure she is neither lost nor unharmed.” Reeve glanced at her. “Tell me I have no cause to be displeased.”

  She gritted her teeth but tried to stay calm as she resumed walking after him, entering the house. “I would appreciate it, my lord, if you would not equate my absence with lack of fervor for
your return. I would have stayed at the Manor if I had known you were headed home.”

  He said nothing.

  “And I would have you know, my lord, that I was not riding out of leisure this time,” she added. “I was paying a visit to the Countess of Westbury, since Mrs. Chapman informed me that she was in residence.”

  Still, he said nothing.

  “And you needed not have come to fetch me, my lord. I was…”

  “So you are now purporting that my displeasure was my own fault,” he stopped to interrupt her. “That it was completely unnecessary for me to have gone after my own wife after learning that she is not yet home at the usual hour, disregarding the possibility that she might have come to harm or lost her way?”

  She frowned. “I am merely…”

  “Reeve,” Rosalind interrupted them as she came down the stairs to greet her brother. “So you have already returned, after all. I trust your…” She stopped as she saw the expression on both her brother and Axelle’s faces. “I suppose I shall see you at dinner.”

  She walked past them, leaving Reeve and Axelle in silence. For a moment, they both just stood there, Axelle trying to remember what she had been about to say and thinking if it was still worth saying. Then, Reeve started up the stairs and Axelle followed.

  “My lord, I regret that circumstances have turned out unfavorably,” Axelle said. “But I assure you, my lord, I was hoping for your safe return and was eagerly anticipating it.”

  Again, he said nothing.

  “As much as I appreciate your yearning to see me, my lord, I wish you…”

  “My yearning to see you?” He turned to her as they entered the second study adjoining his bedchamber. “I am afraid you do not comprehend, Madam Wife.”

  He placed his hand on the back of her neck and kissed her then, letting her know just how much he had longed to be with her, a desire which, unbeknownst to her, had been fueled by the pride he felt at her earlier defense of him when the shepherds had accused him of murder.