‘I believe not, Miss Dane, thank you.’
The short silence was broken by Donna. ‘When it is convenient, Your Grace, I do believe it is time Miss Dane and I returned to the Dower House. Please bid goodnight to Lady Anne for us.’
As she spoke Miss Fitch, becomingly flushed, was helped across the threshold from the terrace by Mr Leigh. Donna gave the young woman a somewhat beady look, probably quite as capable as Antonia of spotting the signs of a first kiss. ‘My dear Miss Fitch, perhaps it would be better if you too retire now.’ Blushing, Sophia obeyed, whispered her good-nights and hurried from the room.
Marcus turned from holding the door for her. ‘I believe I can hear the wheels of the carriage on the drive. Let me accompany you to the front door, Miss Dane, Miss Donaldson.’
He took advantage of the slight flurry whilst Donna settled herself in the corner of the carriage to say, low-voiced, ‘l will call on you tomorrow morning.’
Antonia pressed his hand in reply and let him hand her into the carriage. It took all her social training and self-control not to lean out of the window for a last glimpse of him as they turned the bend in the drive.
Donna was uncharacteristically silent. Antonia, braced for an inquisition, found it hard to deal with. ‘I wonder what can have been the matter with Lady Reed,’ she mused disingenuously. ‘Admittedly, the evening is warm, but she could hardly be said to be overdressed.’
It was difficult to make out Donna’s expression in the gloom of the carriage, but when she spoke her voice was dry. ‘I doubt it was anything to do with the heat.’ She paused, then, seemingly changing the subject, ‘You were out alone on the terrace with the Duke for a long time, my dear.’
Antonia knew her companion too well not to catch her drift. The temptation to tell Donna of Marcus’s proposal and her acceptance was strong, but then she thought better of it. Donna would be full of questions, none of which she could answer. No, better wait until Marcus had visited her tomorrow and then she could give her the glad news and a date for the marriage.
‘The air was very pleasant, quite refreshing,’ she said lightly. ‘Did you not observe how completely it revived Miss Fitch?’
Donna snorted. ‘What revived that young lady was having Mr Leigh hold her hand for twenty minutes and probably kiss her into the bargain. I am sure Lady Anne would not approve. I was in two minds whether to go out there myself.’
‘Why did you not?’ Antonia encouraged, happy that the conversation had turned from her own time on the terrace.
‘Because I was more concerned with what you were about.’ Donna was tart as she leaned forward to look into Antonia’s shadowed face. ‘To dash water over Lady Reed in that way was quite outrageous.’
‘It did revive her most effectively.’
‘Do not be so disingenuous with me, Antonia, I can read you like a book. No, it is not Lady Reed’s health that causes you concern, and well I know it.’
‘Do you think she was Marcus’s mistress?’ Antonia enquired. Is she still?
The improper question had the desired effect of completely distracting Donna from the scene in the salon. ‘Antonia! What an unseemly question. You should know nothing of such things. I am sure His Grace would not…’
'His Grace is thirty years old,’ Antonia retorted tartly. ‘He has hardly lived as a monk and Lady Reed is an attractive woman – even if she does black her lashes – with a complaisant husband hundreds of miles away.’
‘Antonia, stop it. You should not have such thoughts. Well, at least, if you do, you should not voice them aloud. A well-bred young woman pretends not to know how men go on.’
‘Donna, we both know what goes on.’ Her voice dropped and trembled slightly. She bit her lip to control it. ‘Do all men have mistresses, Donna, even after they are married?’
‘Some do,’ Donna admitted. ‘But those who have married for affection and who retain their feelings for their wives do not. Why, look at Lord Meredith, can you imagine him keeping a mistress?’
Antonia leaned back against the squabs with a sigh, looking out at the silent countryside, now bathed in moonlight. She was suddenly very tired, all the excitement of the evening, of Marcus’s declaration, ebbing away to leave her feeling somewhat low. Something was going to go wrong, she just knew it.
Entering the Dower House, she was glad of Donna’s silence and said her goodnights on the landing with only a few words.
She had been certain she would fall asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow, but in the darkness the foolishness of her behaviour came back to haunt her. How could she have thrown that water at Lady Reed? And in doing so, had she not behaved just as badly as the other woman?
Miserably, Antonia wondered if Marcus would think less well of her because of it, because she knew he had not been gulled by her expressions of concern for Claudia. She loved him and she wanted to appear wholly admirable in his eyes. In the darkness she tossed and turned, scourging herself with reproaches. A lady, one destined to become a duchess, would have behaved with dignity: after all, she was the one whom he had asked to marry. Why then descend to such jealous behaviour?
The night seemed endless, sultry and oppressive. When Antonia finally slipped into sleep it was only to dream vividly of Marcus, his lips hot on her throat, his arms binding her tightly to his body. When she woke it was to find the sheets tangled round her, her hair damp and tousled on the pillows.
Chapter Fourteen
Antonia felt thoroughly subdued and wan when she faced Donna across the breakfast table the next morning.
‘My dear, you look quite pulled down.’ Donna scanned her face anxiously. ‘I am sure this weather is unhealthy. Shall I send for Dr Rush after breakfast? You must go and lie down with a nice cup of tea.’
‘No, please, there’s nothing to concern yourself about. It was so close last night, I felt I was stifling. When I did sleep, it was very fitful and has done me no good.’ Antonia listlessly spread some butter on her bread, looked at the conserves and found the decision between honey and jam quite beyond her.