Chapter Four

J oan had lit a candle and, after instructing the servants to bring hot water, now carried the light before her, banishing the shadows on the stairs and in the upper part of the house. The windows, apart from the one that looked out onto the garden downstairs, were small and would let in little light during the day. As Ellis had suspected when she first saw it, the building must once have been a fortress in the days when raids and fighting were common on the border. Now it was a gentleman's home, with touches of color and comfort, but still strong enough on the outside to withstand Theo's bullying.

Joan was talking in a friendly way. Ellis tried to pay attention, but despite her sleep, her body ached and the scratches she had almost forgotten about had begun to sting again. She realized she was still wearing one slipper and bent down to remove it.

Curiously Joan watched her.

"I expect you are his lordship's new model," she said with a lift of her eyebrows, as if she knew that wasn't the case but was fishing for information. She had fair hair neatly tied back at her nape and dark watchful eyes, and from the lack of lines on her face, Ellis thought she was a great deal younger than the housekeeper at Breamore.

"Model?" Ellis asked, straightening up.

"He has been on the watch since the last one left. I believe some artists can draw without using a model, but his lordship prefers to draw from life. He is very good, and he pays well. You won't be sorry."

Ellis sorted through the information Joan had given her, and one piece stood out. "His lordship ?" she repeated, unable to hide her surprise. Although the man's voice and mannerisms had suggested an educated Welshman, the ink on his hands had made her think he was more likely to be an artisan than an aristocrat.

"He is Lord Lyndhurst, and Hawthorne Lodge is his home. Or rather, it is his uncle's country house. His uncle is Viscount Hawthorne and an active member of Parliament. A very important man."

Which explained why Lord Lyndhurst's mention of his uncle had made Theo less inclined to force his way into Hawthorne Lodge. Ellis tried to find some memory of those names, only to fail. She wondered if she should have given Lord Lyndhurst her real name and title after all. She may have done so, if she had not been worried that when it was discovered who she was, he might decide to hand her over to Theo for money or some favor.

It had been a hard lesson, but when Archie had died she had learned it. A great many people were willing to turn their coats if it was to their own advantage.

"Are you saying that Lord Lyndhurst is an artist?" Ellis remembered the drawings on the desk, the half-naked woman doing a very bad job of hiding her breasts in her hands as she offered a coy smile.

"Yes, he is, and a very talented one," Joan said, as if daring her to argue otherwise.

"It is unusual, is it not? For a lord to be an artist?" But then some of the upper classes were more than a little eccentric. Perhaps Lord Lyndhurst was happy to wile his days away drawing women in various states of undress.

"I suspect you are right," was all Joan said. She gave Ellis a searching look. "If you are not his new model, then who are you, if I may be so bold?"

"I-I was chased by highwaymen," Ellis stammered. "In the forest. The coach overturned and I ran away and found this house. Lord Lyndhurst gave me shelter."

Joan's dark eyes narrowed with suspicion. "Highwaymen? I have never heard of such a thing. Are you sure?"

Ellis had no intention of telling this woman the truth. "They fired shots and frightened my groom," she said, hoping that was the end of it.

"Did they indeed!" Joan stared at her doubtfully. "I will send someone out to see what has become of your coach, Miss Mallory. We will get to the bottom of this."

Ellis hoped Theo's men weren't still lurking in the area, and that Rowan had escaped unharmed. She wanted to tell Joan not to bother, but that would raise the woman's suspicions even more, so she said nothing.

Joan continued to lead the way down the corridor while Ellis followed, head full of her own concerns. She still felt a little dizzy from her escape in the forest and her impromptu sleep on the chaise longue, and it was quite strange to be following this woman with her candle when earlier today she had been in the familiar surroundings of Breamore. It was as if her life as the Duchess of Breamore had been a dream... or perhaps this was the dream.

The shadows wavered around them as Joan opened a door and stepped back to allow Ellis entry. She barely had time to notice that the space was decorated in light colors, different from the dark panelling of her state suite in Breamore, when several servants arrived. With silent efficiency, they set down a metal hip bath and began to fill it with buckets of steaming water. When they were done, Joan closed the door once more. She had already lit a lamp and drawn the curtains on the night, and now the room seemed cozy and safe.

"I'm sure you are longing for a hot bath. Here, let me." Before Ellis could speak, the other woman was unbuttoning her gown, fussing at the tears in the cloth and the dirty stains that showed up even on the dark color.

Before she became a duchess, Ellis and her sisters had tended to their own wardrobe; even at their cousin's house in London they had not had their own maid. But over the past five years she had become so used to the ministrations of servants that she hardly noticed them anymore. Suddenly she felt a terrible wave of homesickness for Breamore and Archie and dear sweet Elijah, and it was only with difficulty that she swallowed back her tears.

Joan tut-tutted as more evidence of her escape became clear. "I will fetch some salve when you are clean," she said practically. She added some scent to the water, swirled it about, and then left Ellis to her ablutions.

The water was so delicious that for a moment Ellis simply lay, boneless, allowing herself to float pleasurably. She could hear voices in the house now as the servants resumed their duties, but they seemed far away. Ellis drifted. As she had run through the forest, she had tried very hard to push away all that she was leaving behind, but now those recollections rose up in suffocating waves.

Before Archie had died, her life had been aimless and comfortable, the household run by trusted servants, and she had been able to spend her days doing very much as she pleased. Her marriage may not have been the sort of marriage she had once imagined herself making, but she was grateful to Archie for all he had given her. When she thought of her eldest sister Catherine and her old, unpleasant husband, the Duke of Wellesley, she was even more grateful for Archie.

It was after Catherine had snared her old duke that their mother had decided that all her daughters must marry dukes, and she had been prepared to wait for however long it took to see her ambition realized. Ellis was young at the time of Catherine's marriage, a child of fifteen, too young to be introduced to society. An introvert and a dreamer, Ellis was quite happy to shut herself away. But she could not escape her fate forever. Once Sophia was married off, yes to another duke, Ellis was thrust into the spotlight.

She hadn't enjoyed it. London society was not kind. The people she met had a hard, superficial glitter that repelled her. She would have preferred to stay in her room and lose herself in her books, but she was not given a choice. Her mother insisted she make her appearance at balls and parties, while people stared at her and whispered about her, until she found a duke who was single and needed a wife.

It was on her nineteenth birthday that she met Archie, the son of the Duke of Breamore. Archie had just arrived in London from his family estate on the Welsh border, and as fate would have it, he was in search of a wife.

At least that was what he had told her when they had danced together that first time. She had confessed that she was not much of a dancer and in fact preferred to spend her time reading and escaping into the world of her imagination. If it was up to her, she had blurted out, she would be at home now instead of trying to be vivacious and interesting with people she did not know and did not like.

She had said a great deal during that first dance, the words spilling out of her as she spoke of her true feelings in a way she had never dared to do before and which would have horrified her mother. But there was something very authentic about Archie, despite his fashionable clothes and dandyish air.

She had felt as if she could tell him anything, even as the warm laughter in his eyes turned to sympathy. He had seemed to understand her feelings perfectly. During subsequent meetings they had become friends, and one day he had asked if she would listen to his story. It was a secret, but as she had trusted him, he was trusting her. That was when she learned Archie had a lover, a man called Elijah, but it was not possible for two men to spend their lives together, at least not openly. He needed to at least assume the trappings of a legal marriage to enable him to inherit from his ailing father. His cousin Theo was an ambitious and ruthless sort of person and would seek to make trouble if he learned Archie's marriage was not as it should be. Theo had already voiced his suspicions about Archie's tastes to Archie's father, but thankfully the duke was not inclined to listen to him.

At first Ellis was a little shocked by his confidences, but she soon put that behind her. Archie was so nice, and she wished him every happiness with Elijah and sympathized with his need to keep such a secret from the world. It was rather like one of the novels she enjoyed, although she had yet to read one where a man fell in love with another man. The idea had opened a completely new realm for her, and she realized how insular her life had been.

During their next meeting, Archie took her aside and asked if Ellis would be willing to marry him. Of course, it would be a marriage in name only, but he would see she received a generous allowance, and she would be free to live her own life. She could even take lovers... if she was discreet.

Ellis had blushed at that. The idea of taking a lover was not one she had ever spoken of aloud, although she had dreamed of a man who would hold her and kiss her and give her the sort of pleasure she read about in some of her more indelicate books.

In fact, only that morning her mother had been asking her what she was doing wrong because Archie should have proposed to her by now. His offer came at just the right time. She could marry a man destined to be the Duke of Breamore and please her mother, as well as help Archie to find his own happiness. No elderly husband to deal with, as was the case with Catherine, no being involved in society gossip like Sophia, who often seemed to be looking anxiously over her shoulder.

It was a perfect solution, and she happily accepted.

The wedding was like a fairytale with Archie insisting on seeing to every detail to make it so, and if his smiles to Elijah hinted that he wished it was the two of them tying the knot rather than he and Ellis, well, she could sympathize. She was looking forward to her future, to living at Breamore and doing as she pleased.

What she had not expected to feel was lonely.

Oh, there was plenty to do at her new home. When the duke died and Archie inherited the title, Ellis became a duchess with her own suite of rooms and more books than she knew what to do with. She could ask for any book she wanted, and some of the titles that arrived from the printer in London were risqué to say the least. Meanwhile Archie and his lover, Elijah, were wonderful companions and dear friends, and their days were full of laughter. But the nights... Archie and Elijah had each other, and she could see how deeply they were in love, how much they desired each other. But Ellis was a young woman with her own desires, and her reading had given her an idea of how her life might be, if she found the right lover.

Archie did not notice her sadness, he was too happy himself, but Elijah did. In his gentle voice he reminded her that she was entitled to take a lover. There were a great many handsome men to choose from, he'd added with a wink, and Ellis had smiled back and promised to cast her eye over them. But she was not wholly comfortable acting in such a brash way. It was easier in fiction. Real life seemed awkward, and she had had no practice at all, unlike Sophia who flirted as if it was second nature to her. She thought about asking her sister to give her some lessons but then Sophia would ask questions, and she didn't want to risk Sophia discovering the truth. Which meant she had still not chosen anyone by the time Archie had died and her life had changed so drastically.

Now Ellis sighed, sinking lower in the warm water, and pushed aside her sadness. She reminded herself that she might be in a house full of strangers whom she could not trust, but at least she was safe. For now, anyway. Lord Lyndhurst had sent Theo away, and he had said she could remain here until she was able to make her way to London. She had time to gather her thoughts and consider her future.

Her mind circled back to the drawings scattered over Lord Lyndhurst's desk, and that one drawing in particular. The half-naked woman.

She reached down into the water to cover her own breasts, allowing the soft flesh to overflow her fingers, and then brushing her thumbs over her rosy nipples. If felt forbidden. Naughty. There was a tingle through her nerve endings, and the sensation was so pleasant she continued to stroke herself. Soon her nipples turned into hard little buds, and the tingling sensation was echoed between her thighs. She couldn't help but give a gasp of pleasure.

What had Joan said? That Lord Lyndhurst needed a new model, someone to pose for his indelicate drawings? Ellis felt the warmth between her legs build. Could she agree to be that person? It would give her a reason to stay here until she made a solid plan for her future. For too long she had wanted someone to hold her, touch her, kiss her. Her body was eager for a lover's ministrations, while at the same time her heart ached for the sort of closeness she had seen between Archie and Elijah.

Her narrow escape from Theo made her think she should not wait any longer. She needed to act, find the lover she had promised herself for five years, and enjoy him. Enjoy her life. Because who knew what her future might hold?

She was so deep in her thoughts that she jumped when there was a brisk tap on the door.

But it was only Joan. The housekeeper bustled in and set a small case upon the bed and began to sort through it, setting aside various small bottles. Another servant followed her in, a plump pretty girl with tawny hair, who Joan introduced as Polly.

"Polly will look after you while you're here," Joan added, as if there was no doubt in anyone's mind about Ellis staying. She didn't argue. It seemed as if the decision had been taken out of her hands.

Without further ado, Polly knelt by the tub and began to wash Ellis's hair, avoiding the bump from when the coach overturned. Ellis closed her eyes and let herself enjoy the sensation of the girl's strong hands on her scalp and the flowery scent of the soap.

Joan's voice from across the room drifted over her. "Polly, when you are finished, find Miss Mallory one of Merrily's gowns. Miss Mallory will be dining with his lordship."

Startled from her fugue, Ellis sat up abruptly. "Dine with him?" she burst out, and then spluttered as the stinging soap and water ran into her eyes. Polly handed her a towel so that Ellis could mop her face.

"Just as well I restocked the larder," was all the housekeeper said. "Otherwise it would be thin soup and a crust of stale bread."

Polly snorted a laugh and then coughed to disguise it.

"His lordship is not a worldly man when it comes to the practical details of running a household," Joan explained to Ellis. "He is a dreamer. Just as well Polly and I are here to take care of him."

Ellis had not thought his lordship helpless when he had refused to allow Theo into his house, but she said nothing as Polly urged her from the bath and wrapped her in a drying cloth. Seating her on a stool, Polly then began briskly to dry her hair, while Joan came to examine her hurts. She was applying a sweet-smelling unguent on the scratches on her hands, when Polly slipped out of the room only to return with a garment in her arms.

"Will this do?" she said and held it up.

It was a gown made of an abundance of turquoise satin that shone and rippled in the candlelight, while the elbow length sleeves were trimmed with delicate white lace. It was beautiful, but was it suitable to wear to dine with a gentleman she hardly knew? Before she could ask the question, Polly was helping her step into the gown, and fastening up the ties and hooks. Once that was done, the two women stepped back and stood close together, silently observing the effect.

Joan and Polly exchanged glances, their eyebrows raised. What did that mean? Was the dress not flattering? Disappointed, Ellis turned to the looking glass. Her eyes widened. She looked... ethereal. The sea-colored gown made her think of a mermaid come to dry land. But there was nothing otherworldly about the way the gleaming cloth clung to her hips, or how her breasts were barely contained by the bodice, her abundant white flesh spilling over in a manner that was almost indecent.

"Whose gown did you say this was?" she asked in a breathless voice.

"Merrily's," Joan responded. "His lordship's last model. She never wore it. The color did not suit her." She waved a dismissive hand. "Don't worry about her, she's gone."

Polly had laid out stockings and slippers on the bed, and now she finished dressing Ellis. Her hair was still damp, but when she pointed it out, Polly shrugged as if that was immaterial. "Let's leave it down. His lordship won't mind. It is an informal meal, after all, isn't it?"

She exchanged another glance with Joan, and they both smiled as if they shared a secret.

Ellis opened her mouth to protest, to say she was too tired or too overwhelmed by all that had happened and could not possibly go downstairs in a borrowed dress with her hair down. But she didn't. The truth was she wanted to dine with Lord Lyndhurst.

All her life Ellis had put herself in the shoes of her heroines, imagining herself doing bold and daring deeds. But the only brave thing she had ever done was marry Archie.

Now everything had changed, and her life had become very precarious. Who knew what would happen to her next? She did not want any regrets when the end came, she wanted to live life to the full. She had spent enough time in the wings, waiting.

Ellis wanted to step out onto the stage.