Read Online Lady Beneath the Veil by Sarah Mallory - Free Book Online

cheerful camaraderie disappeared in an instant. Gideon’s grin was replaced by a polite smile. He waved one hand, as if to dismiss her words, but Dominique knew she had erred.
    * * *
    Gideon saw her stricken look and wished he could say something to comfort her, but the words would not come. He had never been one for dissimulation. How could he tell her it did not matter that he had married the wrong bride when it did matter, when he regretted it so bitterly? The woman he had courted, the bride he had expected, was tall and fair and buxom, with blue, blue eyes and a smoky laugh full of sexual promise. Instead he found himself married to a diminutive brunette with a damnably obstinate streak. She was pretty enough, perhaps, if you liked thin women.
    Here he stopped himself. She was petite, yes—the top of her head barely reached his chin—but she was not thin. He remembered their wedding night, when they had both allowed their pent-up emotions to run away with them. He recalled how well her small breast fitted into his hand, how her tiny waist contrasted with the full, rounded softness of her hips. Their lovemaking had been as hot and passionate as anything he had ever experienced and her untutored ardour had fuelled his desire. He hoped he had not hurt her. He had always expected to take his virgin bride gently, to go slowly and teach her the pleasures of the flesh.
    Instead they had tumbled into a hedonistic, lust-filled coupling and he had risen at dawn bemused and mortified by his lack of control. He remembered glancing down at his sleeping bride, seeing her hair arrayed over the pillows in a dark cloud and feeling an unexpected tenderness for the innocent, fragile girl he had married. He had wanted to protect her—from the world, from himself. He had made a vow then, that he would conduct himself with proper restraint in future.
    And there could be no going back. Having consummated their marriage, he must now commit himself to it and put aside all thoughts of the actress—what had Max called her? Agnes Bennet. Gideon doubted he had truly loved her, but he had been captivated by her beauty and she had shown him a flattering attention that had put all sensible thought to flight. No, it had not been love. Gideon recognised that it was his pride that was hurt most and the woman now sharing his life had colluded in the shameful trick. For that he could never forgive her. Of course, there was no reason why they should not be happy enough and have a comfortable, civilised existence together. Many couples entered into arranged marriages and rubbed along well enough, but it wasn’t only her deceit—he could not ignore her French blood.
    It was twelve years since his brother James had died at the hands of the French mob and the pain of that loss had never left Gideon. His father had trained him to take his place, to become his heir, but James had been everything Gideon was not, quiet and studious, but with a charm of manner that made him universally loved—not for him the rakehell existence of a young man on the town—and Gideon knew how unworthy he was to fill James’s shoes.
    Dinner was a strained affair. They were achingly polite to each other and by the time the covers were removed Dominique was glad to leave Gideon to enjoy his port in solitary state. She realised sadly that, however friendly he might seem, Gideon could not forgive her for her duplicitous actions. It had been a cruel trick and she should never have taken part, but when she had agreed to it she had been in turmoil. Blackmailed by her cousin and half in love with the man behind whose eyes she glimpsed a sadness that set him apart from the others, while at the same time detesting the man who would run with Max and his self-seeking, hedonistic crowd. However, standing beside him while Max gloatingly explained the deceit, the hurt and humiliation Gideon had suffered was quite clear to her, if to no one else.
    Sitting alone now in the drawing room, she felt