by Marie Force
“It’s not fair for you to force me into embarrassing situations in public.”
Aubrey propped his head on an upturned hand so he could look at her, which had become one of his favorite things to do. He was well aware that they were living on borrowed time, inside a bubble of happiness where no one could touch them. Once his family arrived, their bubble would burst, and he wasn’t looking forward to that.
Matthew had dispatched Tornquist and was keeping an ear out for anyone else who might be looking for her. While the immediate threat was gone, they still had to deal with the fact that she was wanted for murder in Ireland. He hadn’t the first clue how to approach that dilemma, and was hoping Derek might be able to help him figure out a solution.
They had one more day until his mother would arrive with Aubrey’s sisters and their children in tow. He fully expected a row of epic proportions to erupt when his mother found out he’d married the Irish housekeeper. The very thought of it had him wishing he could take his wife and run away. But that wasn’t an option with Derek and the others arriving next week. He would have to stay and face his mother while hoping his new marriage was strong enough to weather the coming storm.
* * *
Maeve had wrought a miracle. Aubrey could think of no other word to describe what she had managed to accomplish. The house fairly sparkled and smelled fresh as a field of lilies. Between Maeve, Aubrey, Mr. Plumber and Mrs. Allston, they had whipped their ragtag army and the family members and friends the army had recruited into a passable staff, outfitting them with uniforms they wore with unmistakable pride.
Were they the professional, flawless staff that would be found in the other fine Newport homes? Not even close, but Aubrey would take them, their sincerity and work ethic over the more polished group from last year that had left the windows open to the elements for the winter.
On the eve of his family’s arrival, Aubrey walked from room to room, on a final inspection. In the massive ballroom, there was nary a spiderweb to be seen or a speck of dust to be found. His mother’s room had been redecorated with a striped coverlet and floral pillow coverings that were nicer than what had been there before, in Aubrey’s opinion anyway. What his mother would think was anyone’s guess. If one didn’t know of the disaster that had occurred here, it certainly wouldn’t be apparent now.
“Ah, there you are,” Maeve said when she joined him, wearing one of the smart new dresses the local dressmakers had provided. This one was white silk with thin red stripes that reminded him of peppermint candy.
Aubrey loved to suck on peppermint candy. The thought gave him ideas pertaining to his delectable wife.
Her brows furrowed. “What is it?”
“Your lovely dress is giving me interesting ideas.”
“What sort of ideas?”
“The kind that would have me sucking on peppermint candy. Among other things.”
Predictably, the comment set her cheeks to flame in a matter of seconds. “Stop it.”
He put his arm around her waist and leaned in close enough that his lips brushed against her ear. “I’ll not stop it.”
“You must learn to control yourself. As of tomorrow, we will no longer have the house to ourselves.”
“As you well know, I can’t control myself when you’re around, and we’ll just have to become more creative about finding time alone once the house is full of family and friends.”
“You’re going to embarrass me, aren’t you?”
“As much and as often as I possibly can.”
“That’s not very nice.”
“It’ll be very, very nice. I promise.” He patted her on the backside to direct her toward their bedchamber.
“Where are we going?”
“We are retiring early so we will be well rested for tomorrow’s invasion.”
“Excellent. I could use a full night of sleep.”
“I didn’t promise a full night of sleep when I said we’d be retiring early.”
Her delicate laughter had become one of his favorite things, along with the many expressions that crossed her flawless face in the course of a day and the way her hair looked down around her naked shoulders. He adored how the tips of her succulent breasts would peek out from under her hair, the way her face flushed at the slightest provocation, and he could listen to her speak about the most mundane of things in that lyrical accent for hours at a time and never grow tired of the sound. In fact, it was becoming quite clear to him that he loved absolutely everything about her.
He loved his wife and had no idea whatsoever if she returned the sentiment. Yes, she was an enthusiastic bed partner, and he had no doubt she enjoyed that part of their relationship. They talked freely on a wide range of topics, had worked closely together to get the house into tip-top shape and had developed an easy, comfortable rapport with each other. But did she have feelings for him? He didn’t know and was afraid to ask out of fear of what she might say.
She valued the protection he had provided for her and had thanked him repeatedly for paying off Tornquist. He knew she appreciated that he was continuing to look into what could be done to fight the charges pending against her in Ireland. Gratitude, however, was last on the list of things he wanted from her. Aubrey wanted her heart and her soul. He wanted her every thought, wish, dream. He wanted everything with and from her, and while their physical connection seemed to become more intense with every passing day, the rest didn’t seem to be keeping pace.
Inside their bedchamber, he released the buttons down the back of her dress while dropping kisses along the neck that had held him in its thrall from the first. He would never tire of that elegant stretch of soft skin or the bewitching scent that drove him to drink in the middle of the day so he wouldn’t be tempted to waylay her and have his wicked way with her every hour on the hour.
Aubrey found himself counting down the hours until they could be alone, locked away from the rest of the world until sunup, when another long day would begin. After the Season, he would take her for a long honeymoon so they could spend every day together, in bed if they so wished. The thought of spending full days alone with her made him giddy.
“As soon as my guests depart, we shall take a wedding trip.” He slid the two sides of the peppermint dress down her arms and then over her narrow hips, holding her hand so she could step out of it. The dressmaker had provided undergarments made of the finest silk, and he found her impossibly alluring in them. Releasing the pins that held her hair up during the day, he watched it fall in a fiery river. He was absolutely mad for her hair.
“A wedding trip is not necessary, Mr. Nelson.”
Raising her shift up and over her head, he took in the creamy length of her back. “Aubrey, and a wedding trip is very necessary.”
“A wedding trip is not necessary, Aubrey.”
“I need time alone with my wife.”
“You have time alone with me every night.”
“It’s not enough.”
She laughed, and oh how he loved the sound of her laughter. “And you say I’m insatiable.” When she would’ve turned to face him, he stopped her.
“Wait.” Dropping to his knees behind her, he cupped her bottom through the filmy drawers and squeezed.
Her legs began to quiver, so she reached for the back of one of the Louis XIV chairs that populated every room in the house. “Aubrey . . . Whatever are you doing?”
“Shh.” He pulled the drawers down and licked his lips at the sight of soft, supple flesh.
“Aub . . . Aubrey.”
“Hold on to the chair.”
She did as he directed, casting a wary look at him over her shoulder.
He grasped her cheeks, separated them and dove in, licking a long line from top to bottom and everywhere in between.
“Oh . . . Oh no. Aubrey.” Her legs trembled so hard he feared she would fall, so he stood, wrapped an arm around her waist and lifted her.
She released the chair, uttering an inelegant squeak as he transported her
to the bed, bending her over so the top half of her body was supported by the mattress and her feet were on the floor. Over her shoulder, she looked at him with big, wild eyes. “This isn’t decent.”
“I assure you it is.” He dropped to his knees behind her and went back to what he’d been doing, loving the sounds she made as he devoured her. Still from behind, he slid two fingers inside her, curling them forward toward the spot that had her gasping and clutching the quilt.
“Oh lord. Oh please . . . Please.”
He withdrew his fingers and sucked the hard nub of nerves into his mouth until she seized with contractions and her entire body turned a fetching shade of light pink. God, he loved that.
As she panted in the aftermath, he tore off his own clothes, freeing his cock and pressing into her from behind. They hadn’t done this yet, and judging from the way she tensed, she wasn’t sure this was decent either.
“Easy, love.” He flattened his hand on her back to keep her in the position he wanted.
“You want to do it this way?”
“I do. You’ll love it. I promise.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m so sure.” Aubrey could tell she wasn’t entirely convinced, as her muscles remained rigid and tense, so he reached under her to cup her breasts and tweak her nipples. The distraction helped to ease the way for him as he fully entered her. “How does it feel?”
“Different but good.”
“Does it hurt?”
“No.”
“Tell me if it does. It’s supposed to feel good.”
“It does.”
He gave her a few minutes to adjust to the new position before bringing his hands to her hips to hold her still for his fierce possession. And when he reached around to caress the tender bud between her legs, she screamed as her internal muscles tightened around his cock and had him biting his lip to hold back a scream of his own as he found his release.
Coming down from the incredible high, he rested his head on her back, both of them breathing hard. Aubrey nearly stopped breathing when he realized he’d gotten so carried away that he’d spent inside her, which he hadn’t intended to do.
Damn it.
He no sooner had that thought than he imagined Maeve round with their baby, and his heart lurched with the emotion that hit him when he thought of having children with her, a life with her, everything with her.
She squirmed under him, and he lifted himself up, planted a kiss in the center of her back and withdrew to help her up and into bed. “Be right back.”
Aubrey went into the bathroom to clean up, returned with a towel for her and got into bed to help her clean up. “Um, Maeve?”
“Yes?”
“I . . . at the end there, I . . . I was still inside you.”
Her eyes widened with understanding. “Oh.”
“I’m sorry. I got carried away and forgot to be careful.”
She rolled her bottom lip between her teeth.
“Say something.”
“Would you . . . welcome . . . a child?”
Aubrey stared at her, drunk on the sight of her, the taste of her, everything about her. “I would welcome our child with every fiber of my being.”
“I had always dreamed of being a mother, but had all but given up on the notion.”
“Because of what happened with Farthington?”
She nodded. “Since I fled Ireland, I pictured myself working to survive, not marrying or having a family.”
Twisting a strand of her hair around his finger, he gazed at her. “The picture has changed now. You’re free to dream those dreams again.”
“I’m still adjusting to the changes that have transpired.”
“Are you happy, Maeve?”
“Yes, I’m happy—and relieved. You saved me from certain death.”
“But are you happy with me?” Aubrey wanted to curse at how needy he sounded, but he had to know.
“Of course I am.”
“You are? Really?”
“Yes,” she said, smiling. “I’m happy, but I’m also nervous about what tomorrow will bring.”
Linking his fingers with hers, he brought their joined hands to his chest. “No matter what tomorrow brings, no matter what they say or think or do, you’re my wife and you shall be treated with the respect you deserve.”
“You can’t make them respect me, Aubrey.”
“Watch me.”
Her deep sigh conveyed her true feelings on the matter.
“I don’t want you to worry. Whatever happens, I’ll handle it. You’re safe with me, always, against any foe, even my family.”
As he said the words and saw the apprehension in her eyes, he vowed to protect her with everything he was, everything he’d ever be. For she had become the most precious thing in the world to him, and there was nothing he wouldn’t do for her. Nothing at all.
Chapter Twelve
With Aubrey’s family due to arrive within the hour, Maeve took a last stroll through the house, checking every room with an eye toward the fine details. Vases filled with freshly picked blooms positioned in the center of a table, a fold removed from the tieback of a drapery, a chair moved slightly to the left to better align with its companion, a framed landscape nudged ever so slightly to make it perfectly straight.
It was probably just as well that Mr. Tornquist had shown up and terrified her to the point that she’d jumped at the chance to marry Aubrey and be protected by him, for it probably would’ve taken Mrs. Nelson mere minutes to realize that Maeve was patently unqualified to run a house the size and scope of Paradis Trouvé.
Mrs. Nelson had been described to her as a “dragon lady,” and thoughts of how she might react to her youngest child’s marriage to the Irish housekeeper had kept Maeve awake long after Aubrey had fallen asleep the night before. He’d tried to reassure her that everything would be fine, but the hollowed-out feeling in her stomach couldn’t be ignored.
They’d been fooling themselves these last few days, living as if they were the lord and lady of the manor when they weren’t. His parents were, and soon they would arrive to the news that Aubrey had done much more than prepare the house for their arrival. If the rumors about Mrs. Nelson’s famous temper were to be believed—and after seeing the wreckage brought about by the former staff, Maeve believed the rumors—this peaceful, sunny day was about to turn dark and stormy.
In the ballroom, she glanced up at the sparkling chandelier where there was nary a single cobweb to mar the glory of the gleaming crystals. Thinking of the day Aubrey had startled her and then caught her when she fell off the ladder made her smile. He was such a sweet man, even if misguided at times. He’d tried to rescue her when she didn’t need rescuing, but then she had needed it, and he’d been quick to offer her his name and protection.
Her feelings for him were a jumbled mix of gratitude and desire and concern about what might be ahead for them. Would he tell his family why he’d felt compelled to marry her? They’d never discussed what he planned to tell them, and before they came, she needed to find him to ask him.
If they found out she’d killed a man . . . Her stomach lurched, and she feared she might cast up her accounts into a potted palm. She was so intent on finding him that she took a corner without looking and crashed into a hard wall of chest. Only his quick thinking kept her from falling from the impact.
“Wherever are you going with such haste, my dear?” His kind eyes danced with amusement as they so often did when he looked at her. They laughed a lot, so much so that she wondered if it were normal to be so entertained by one’s spouse, even at the most intimate of times. She couldn’t remember her parents laughing with each other and had no one else to ask if such things were normal. “Maeve? What is it?”
“I . . . I was looking for you.”
“Well, you found me. What’s wrong?”
“I was wondering about your family.”
“What about them?”
She swallowed hard, hoping the bile in her th
roat wouldn’t come rushing up to mortify her in front of her husband. “Are you going to tell them why you married me?”
“Why, yes, of course I will.”
Her stomach dropped. “Oh.”
With his hands on her face, he compelled her to look at him, which was certainly no hardship. His handsome face had become one of her favorite things to look at. “I’ll tell them I married you because after knowing you for a short time, I realized I would never be complete without you. I’ll tell them I married you because I quite simply couldn’t live without you.” He punctuated his tender words with a soft kiss that had her heart beating fast and her head swimming from the need to breathe.
“You won’t tell them about Mr. Farthington?”
“Not unless I absolutely have to, and I can’t imagine why I’d have to.”
Relief flooded through her, leaving her almost as breathless as his kiss had. “Thank you.”
“Please do not worry about anything, sweetheart. I’m going to take care of you.”
To her tremendous mortification, her eyes filled with tears that she tried to blink back, but they spilled down her cheeks anyway.
Aubrey kissed them away. “No tears, my sweet. Everything is going to be all right. You have me now. You’re not alone anymore.”
Maeve slid her arms around his waist, under the elegant gray coat he wore, and held on tight to him and his assurances.
They were still there when the sound of a throat clearing startled them apart.
“Pardon the interruption, Mr. Nelson, Mrs. Nelson.” Plumber glanced toward the foyer. “But the family is arriving.”
“Thank you, Mr. Plumber. We’ll be right there.” After the butler had walked away, Aubrey looked down at her, smiling. “Are you ready?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be. Stay close.”
“Nowhere else I’d rather be than close to you.”
When he said such things and looked at her with tenderness, her insides felt like they were full of butterflies in flight.
He tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and led her to the foyer.
Mr. Plumber opened the big door for them, and they went outside to await the four carriages as they came through the ornate black wrought-iron gate. The family had traveled on a steamship from the Fall River Line that conveyed passengers between New York and Boston, with stops each way at Newport’s Long Wharf. There they’d been met by hired carriages for the journey up the hill to Bellevue Avenue. Since Newport was located on the southernmost portion of Aquidneck Island, it was more convenient to take the steamship than the railroad that served the mainland.
