by Platt, Meara
John Farthingale smacked his hands on his desk and rose. “I suppose that takes care of everything. I’ll see you first thing in the morning, Brayden.”
Romulus nodded and rose as well.
As they began to disband, Violet suddenly threw herself into his arms and hugged him fiercely. He was caught unawares and laughed softly. “What’s this?”
She burrowed against his chest. “I’m so happy and yet so sad at the same time.”
He wrapped his arms around her. “I know, sweetheart. Me, too.”
“I won’t let you down, Romulus.”
“You couldn’t, Violet. Not ever.”
It still troubled him that she felt she had to prove herself worthy of him.
Of him, dear heaven!
He was ready to erect a beehive shrine to the bees who had brought them together. He was determined to place The Book of Love under museum quality glass to preserve it forever. He was grateful for whatever magic had brought them together.
By this time tomorrow, Violet would be his wife. He was going to explore every sensation written in that book in intimate depth. He couldn’t wait to touch her silken skin, taste her rosebud lips, breathe in her delicate scent. He’d already had fantasies about rousing her passion and evoking her breathy moans as she reached her release.
He would claim her in every way possible.
Low brain.
High brain.
Low brain again.
Yes, his low brain would be fully in charge as he embedded himself in her body as deeply as she was embedded in his soul.
And she was worried to disappoint him?
Blessed saints! He was on-his-knees grateful for her… and worried as hell over what Forester’s real intentions were for Violet. The man would do nothing while Romulus was around.
But what would happen once he sailed from England?
*
The day was warm and filled with sunshine, a perfect day for a wedding. Violet squinted up at the sky and smiled. She had a bit of work to do before the ceremony, but none of it felt daunting, for each moment that passed drew her closer to her heart’s desire.
She’d carefully wrapped her music parchments in a large portfolio last night and had also written a note to Jameson before retiring to bed. She brought both to Pruitt. “I need a footman to deliver these to Lord Forester this morning. Can you spare a man?”
“Consider it done, Miss Violet.” He took her bundle and note, and immediately went off to summon one of the Farthingale footmen.
She returned upstairs to help her maid pack her belongings. But Martha was most efficient, and the chore did not take long. Within the hour, they were ready for Amos to cart the trunks next door. “I’ll walk over with him and start hanging them in your new quarters, Miss Violet.”
“Thank you, Martha. I’ll be along in a moment.” She’d brought to London little more than gowns, shoes, and the accessories required for making one’s come-out in fashionable style. She hadn’t had cause to wear any of these gowns in the quiet Cotswolds town where she’d grown up. The assemblies and routs held in the countryside were far more casual. These delicately embroidered silks and satins would never suit.
She realized they would not suit now either.
These demure, white silk and lace confections were not worn by married ladies. Perhaps she’d have them altered with an overlay of sarcenet in blues or greens to better suit her marital status.
Better yet, she would give the gowns to Belle and Honey, for they were all of a similar height and weight. Knowing their parents and their utter devotion to their perfume shops, it was quite likely her two cousins would arrive in town with no suitable gowns to wear.
She watched Martha and Amos take her wardrobe to Romulus’s home, and then hurried downstairs to see if her aunt and Mrs. Mayhew required help. All was in hand, and she was merely underfoot, so she walked next door to see if she could be useful in what was to be her new home.
She was a little disappointed to learn Romulus was not home yet. He’d gone off with her uncle early this morning to secure the minister and the special license. She hoped he would return soon. However, she was excited and her brain was so scattered at the moment, she doubted she could hold so much as a simple conversation with him.
She’d be a squealing, giggling simpleton.
But this was not how she wished the staff to think of her, so she gathered her wits about her and informally introduced herself to those she encountered as she wandered from room to room.
The Mayhew sisters knew of her, of course. Since the elder was the new housekeeper, it went a long way to making the rest of the staff feel at ease around her, but not so at ease they’d forget she would be the mistress of the house within a few, short hours.
She tried to remain cool and efficient as she entered the bedchamber she and Romulus would share. After all, it made sense that she should direct where her clothes were to be placed. But Farthingales simply did not know how to hide their thoughts or feelings. She blushed to her roots the moment she stepped inside and saw the massive bed.
Well, it wasn’t really massive, just the usual size of a marriage bed…if one knew about such things. Which she didn’t. But she understood what would take place there tonight. Suddenly feeling all eyes upon her, she turned to leave, and bumped into a solid, muscled wall.
Romulus!
“You’re back,” she said, breathlessly stating the obvious.
He grinned and patted his hand against his breast pocket. “All is arranged. I have the license right here.” He grazed his knuckles affectionately against her hot cheek. “If your face were any hotter, it would burst into flames.”
She sighed. “I should not have come up here.”
“Why not? This is to be your bedchamber as much as mine.” He nodded toward the bed, and his grin widened when he noticed her blush deepen. “Ah, this embarrasses you.”
“Everyone is aware what will take place here tonight,” she said in a whisper. “I have no one to blame but myself. I insisted upon this.”
He took her hand. “Are you having second thoughts?”
“No. Dear me, no.” She was still whispering, which he obviously thought was extremely amusing. “But everyone knows, and they’re all smirking.”
“Let them.” He chuckled, and then continued in a low voice that surely was easily heard by the staff in the room who were doing their best not to appear to be listening in. “This may not be a common arrangement among the nobility, but we’re not part of that elevated society. I haven’t any titles to my name.”
“Nor do I.”
“You don’t?” he said with a teasing arch of his eyebrow and wrapped her in his arms as he feigned indignation. “I’ve been had. Trapped by a scheming, young miss and her loyal, bee minions.” Since the maids were now giggling at his remark, Romulus led her downstairs. “Come with me.”
“Where are we going?”
“To the kitchen. I’m starved for food as well as for your delectable body. Since I can’t have you…yet, I’ll have to settle for a meal. A big one. As I said, I’m starved.”
She rolled her eyes. “Haven’t you noticed? Your house is in upheaval. Mrs. Mayhew’s niece takes her job as housekeeper quite seriously. She’s making certain every room is thoroughly cleaned from top to bottom. This includes your kitchen.”
“Am I not permitted to enter my own kitchen?”
She laughed. “Not if you value your life. Besides, your newly hired cook is out shopping for supplies while her scullery maids are busy scrubbing out the hearths and stove. We’ll only be in the way.”
“I’m master of this house. I can never be in the way. I need food.”
“I had no idea you were such a petulant child when hungry. She’ll be back shortly. Can you not wait…no, I see that you will eat the furniture if you’re deprived another moment.”
Smiling, she eased out of the arm he’d tucked around her waist. “I’ll see what I can grab from Aunt Sophie’s kitchen. I’
ll put together a basket for us and bring it back here. They’re busy preparing for this afternoon, and I don’t want to put them out any more than necessary. Since your house is being cleaned from top to bottom, we can picnic in the garden. It will be perfect. We’ll be out of everyone’s way and able to enjoy the lovely outdoors.”
“With the added benefit of privacy.”
She nodded. “So no one can overhear us as you speak sweet nothings in my ear. Although, I’d much rather hear more about what you did today.”
When his smile faltered, she wondered whether something other than obtaining the special license and the minister had occurred. Perhaps the slip of his smile had to do with yesterday’s summons from the Admiralty. She could not tell by his expression.
“I’ll be back in a trice.” She hurried to the Farthingale kitchen which was bustling with activity and quietly gathered some apples, bread, and slices of ham left over from last night’s supper.
Mrs. Mayhew caught her digging through her pantry. “Miss Violet, what do ye think yer doing in here?”
“I do apologize, but Captain Brayden was hungry, and his kitchen still is not set up. Oh, it will be in a matter of an hour.” She grimaced. “But he can’t wait that long. He is already grumbling and must be fed now.”
Mrs. Mayhew tossed back her head and laughed. “Needs to keep up his strength, does he?”
“Yes, I suppose.” Although from the leering grins on the faces of Mrs. Mayhew and her scullery maids, she sensed the comment had nothing to do with his eating a hearty meal.
The basket was heavier than expected, but Violet was determined to manage it on her own. She carried it into Romulus’s garden and set it down with a grunt on one of the wooden benches beside a bed of bluebells and daffodils. Old General Allworthy did not spend much time outdoors, but he enjoyed looking out upon his rows of flowers.
Violet thought it was quite a beautiful garden.
As she hurried to the front of the house and was about to enter it to call for Romulus, a carriage drew up at the gate. To her surprise, the wicked widow, Lady Felicia, stepped down. “Why, Miss Farthingale, I did not expect to find you here.”
Lady Felicia looked stunning, her gown a tastefully elegant ecru silk with an intricate band of seed pearls sewn at the high waist. Her hair was styled in a fashionable chignon and her hat was an exquisite ecru silk with pearl beading and two dove feathers.
Violet was overheated from lugging the basket, and had no idea what her hair looked like just now. But she smiled politely, hoping not to show a hint of her irritation or dismay. “Nor did I expect to find you here, Lady Felicia. To what do we owe the honor of your visit?”
“We, is it?” She arched a cool eyebrow. “Seems I underestimated you, Miss Farthingale. You’ve got your talons into Romulus rather quickly. But I’m on to that sweet, innocent act of yours. You may have him fooled, but you cannot fool me.”
“Oh, dear. I’ve been found out. I am bereft.” The woman was insufferable. Violet knew she ought to have held her tongue and not engaged her, but she could not hold back her sarcasm. The woman’s superior manner rankled her.
“And I am not so easily deterred.” She cast Violet an imperiously snide glance, staring down her nose at Violet. “You may believe you have won him, but I always get what I want. No one, certainly not the rustic likes of you, will get in my way.”
Romulus stepped out of the house in time to hear Lady Felicia’s remark. “Bloody hell, Felicia. Must you be so destructive in your boredom? Go amuse yourself elsewhere.”
He placed a protective arm around Violet’s waist.
Lady Felicia tossed back a laugh. “How adorable. Do you think to shelter your new mistress from me?”
Romulus did not appear to be at all amused. Indeed, Violet would have felt a shudder run through her if he ever tossed her the dark, threatening look he was now tossing Lady Felicia. It was as though his every feral, protective instinct had been aroused. “Watch what you say, Felicia. Violet is lady of this house. It is as much her home as it is mine.”
He drew Violet closer which she understood was his signal to stay quiet and not contradict him. They weren’t husband and wife yet, but would be in a few hours.
“You married her?” The remark had obviously caught the vulgar woman by surprise, but predators like Felicia always seemed able to recover quickly. Her malicious smile returned. “Ah, here I thought I was interfering in your courtship. I shall have ever so much more fun destroying your marriage.”
She turned abruptly and returned to her carriage, ordering her coachman to drive off the moment she’d climbed in.
Violet stared at Romulus, her mouth agape. “Well, that was fun.”
He groaned. “There aren’t words…I can’t even…I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”
A sickening sense of unease churned in Violet’s stomach, but she would not allow the unpleasant confrontation to ruin her wedding day. She knew to the depths of her soul Romulus would be faithful in their marriage. This is who he was, noble in heart, loyal, and protective through and through.
Still, the woman’s words troubled her. “Romulus, do you think she means it?”
He snorted. “I don’t know. But it doesn’t matter. There is nothing she can do to break us apart.”
Violet’s stomach was now twisted in Gordian knots. “We’ve known each other less than a week. How can you be so certain our marriage will survive?”
He gave no response, merely regarded her grimly.
Those knots in her stomach twisted even tighter. “How silly of me. How can you be? You’re not even certain you will ever love me, are you?”
Chapter Fourteen
Romulus could not take his eyes off Violet as they stood in front of the minister to exchange their vows. Violet’s aunt had decided the ceremony should be held outdoors, under the cloudless blue sky. After all the work she’d done to make this a perfect affair, neither of them wished to contradict her. She could have insisted the ceremony be held in the root cellar, and they would have agreed.
He and Violet now stood in the shade of the oak tree where the bees had resided and first brought them together. “Do you think they’ll return?” Violet asked, glancing at the branches and then up at him.
Romulus grinned. “The bees? I certainly hope not today. I’d rather get through this ceremony without incident.”
Violet looked exquisite, like a woodland sprite in a gown of white silk that draped perfectly over the gentle curves of her body. She had wildflowers threaded through her lush, dark mane. Her hair was partly done up and some curling strands had been left loose, styled to fall in a soft cascade over one shoulder.
Her violet eyes sparkled.
It filled him with pride to know her eyes shone with love for him. “Violet,” he said softly, knowing there was so much he wished to say to her still. But they’d only met a few days ago, been forced to wed in haste, and were still unsure of their feelings for each other.
No, that wasn’t quite right.
He loved Violet and was certain she loved him.
Their only hesitation was in declaring their feelings too soon.
But did love ever work on a proper timetable? There was such a thing as love at first sight, although Violet’s book was filled with reasons to be cautious. Only time could build the high brain connections needed to form a strong marriage, the author declared.
Romulus wasn’t sure about that.
He’d felt that deeper attraction almost from the first. The first moment he’d unlaced her gown and touched her velvet-soft skin. The first time he’d put his arms around her. The moment he’d run his hands up and down her shapely legs.
It wasn’t merely lust that had shot through every throbbing pulse and pore of his body. It was her softness, her smile, the lovely lilt of her voice that got under his skin and shot a path straight to his heart.
This girl is mine.
He’d known it, felt it to the depths of his soul.
He ought to t
ell her now. After all, he hadn’t been placed in charge of one of the finest ships in the royal fleet because he was hesitant or cautious. “Violet,” he repeated, hoping to tell her what was in his heart before the ceremony started.
Her smile shone in her beautiful eyes. “I know, Romulus. I feel it, too.”
He nodded.
He hadn’t said the words aloud, but he was pleased she understood how he felt.
The minister cleared his throat. “Shall we begin?”
From behind them, his cousin Ronan jokingly called out, “Gad, yes. Start the ceremony already. The apple pies are cooling on the window sill.”
“The birds will have at them before we do,” Joshua chimed in. “Is that cinnamon in the pies?”
Violet’s laughter was as gentle as the breeze. “Uh, oh. The wildebeests are restless. We’d better get on with the wedding. But who invited Lady Withnall? I thought this was to be family only.”
“I did. She brought us together.” He cast her a deliciously wicked grin. “I wanted her to know how much I appreciated her holding my bollocks to the fire.”
Violet’s laugh came out as a snort through her nose.
The minister frowned at both of them, casting Romulus a particularly reproving scowl. “Captain Brayden, this is a solemn occasion. Behave yourself.”
Like hell.
But he knew better than to embarrass Violet in front of all their family, so he did reluctantly behave himself.
The kiss he gave Violet when the ceremony ended was light and restrained.
The kiss he gave Violet later that evening and when he’d carried her over the threshold to the bedchamber they would now share, was deep and devouring. His hands roamed over her body with shocking lack of restraint. He did not think it was possible for a man to hunger so greatly or feel such happiness.
At the same time, he also felt an agonizing misery.
Violet was now his wife, and he would claim her in every way, but how could it ever be enough?
