Wedded for His Secret Child

by Helen Dickson

  ‘You are right, Melissa. She did not get herself with child before she married my father. However, you are too harsh on yourself. You did not get pregnant alone. I played an equal part.’

  ‘Yes, you did, but no well-bred young lady, who would normally be seen exclusively among the company of the social elite, would have been seen dead attending the frivolities of the Spring Gardens in the guise of a servant to gratify her need for fun, nor would she have risked her reputation by indulging in such wanton behaviour that would damage any chance she might have of making a decent marriage.’

  What she said was perfectly true, but when Laurence had first seen her he had wanted nothing more than to make love to her, until he had discovered that she was unsullied, untouched by any other man, and that had suddenly posed a threat, a danger to his peace of mind. She was different because never having belonged to another man made her so, gave her added appeal.

  ‘You are my wife—and more importantly the mother of my child. So while you are resisting like an untamed horse against the reins which marriage to me will impose on you, I ask you to stop. I have told you that there will be times when my business affairs will take me away, maybe for weeks at a time, so for the time we are together we will spend it getting to know each other better.’

  Getting to his feet, he held out his hand. Tentatively she placed hers in it and rose, a wariness in her eyes. He smiled.

  ‘I have often thought about the short time we spent together in the Spring Gardens. I remember it clearly,’ he said, ‘and with good reason,’ he concluded quietly, meaningfully, without further elaboration. ‘What we did...’ He smiled again as he opened the door. ‘It is worth remembering.’

  ‘It was many months ago, Laurence. Do you believe we are the same two people we were then?’

  ‘Why, what is this, Melissa? Do you have reservations about what is to happen between us tonight?’

  ‘I don’t know. Everything has happened at an alarming rate.’

  ‘Then perhaps I should warn you that when I have you in my bed I will focus all my attention on breaking your reserve. Do you think I can?’

  Suddenly hot faced and bewildered, Melissa stared at him. She had never known a man to be so perplexing and she was suddenly shy of him. There was something in his eyes tonight that made her feel it was impossible to look at him. There was also something in his voice that brought back so many stirring memories of their first encounter that she did not know what to say. When she would have turned her face away he placed a gentle finger on her chin and forced her to look at him.

  ‘No. Don’t turn away. Look at me, Melissa.’

  Would he break her reserve? Could he make her forget herself and accept the demands of her body as she had before? His deep voice saying her name made her senses jolt and a treacherous warmth was slowly beginning to seep into her body.

  ‘You could have walked away when we met in the Spring Gardens. But you didn’t. You stayed because you wanted the same thing as I did. We wanted each other.’

  ‘What we did was dangerous—and foolish,’ she protested.

  ‘And wrong? Do you really think when you look at Violet that what we did was wrong? Neither of us has anything to gain by pretending that what happened between us is forgotten,’ he said bluntly. ‘Marrying each other proved that it wasn’t over, if it proved nothing else, and it’s never been forgotten. I’ve remembered you all this time—and I know damn well that you have remembered me.’

  Melissa wanted to deny it, but she couldn’t. He would know she was lying and hate her for the deceit. ‘No,’ she said shakily. ‘I’ve never forgotten you or what we did. When Violet was born, I couldn’t forget it even if I wanted to.’

  He smiled at her retort and his voice gentled to the timbre of rough velvet. Before she could step away, he had taken her in his arms. ‘Stay where you are,’ he murmured.

  ‘Why?’ she whispered, her gaze settling on his lips.

  ‘So we can continue with what we started in the Spring Gardens. I won’t force you,’ he said quietly, ‘nor will I force you to do anything you don’t want to do once you are in my bed. I will not ask you to do anything that is against your will.’

  The effect of his words was a combination of fright and excitement. She felt her flesh grow warm. His nearness and the look in his eyes, which had grown darker and was far too bold to allow a small measure of comfort, washed over her. His gaze dropped to her lips, riveting there, and Melissa felt her body ignite at the same instant his mouth claimed hers. With a soft moan she slipped her hands up his chest, her fingers sliding into the soft hair at his nape, her body arching to his. A shudder shook his powerful frame as she fitted herself to him and his lips crushed hers, parting them, his tongue driving into her mouth with urgency, as their dormant passion finally exploded. Laurence encouraged her to give him back the sensual urgency he was offering her, and Melissa began to match his pagan kiss. They kissed again and again, their breaths mingling, and still they carried on, gentling the kiss and then starting again.

  Melissa was a young woman with no more knowledge of the erotic arts than what she’d gained that night in the gardens, but there was that mysterious something inside her to entice and arouse Laurence and he was soon sinking into the hot chasms of delight she seemed to be offering him, delights he had denied himself for so long. Out of sheer preservation, an eternity later Laurence lifted his head and looked down at her flushed face and smiled, gently touching her moist lips with his finger. Her dazed expression drew a laugh from him.

  ‘Until now I had managed to convince myself that the memory of the passion between us all those months ago must be faulty, or at the very least grossly exaggerated. But that kiss surpassed even my imaginings. I promise you that you won’t be disappointed when I take you to bed.’

  The impact of his closeness and potent masculine virility was making Melissa feel altogether too vulnerable. In fact, she was in danger of becoming hypnotised by that silken voice and those mesmerising silver-grey eyes—the fact that he knew it, that he was deliberately using his charm to dismantle her emotions, stirred her to action.

  Drawing herself up straight, she playfully poked her finger at his chest and pushed him away from her. ‘I think I should go to bed and let your opinion of yourself, especially your ego, get some sleep. It will have another arduous day of imagining to deal with tomorrow.’

  ‘Oh, it will—but not imagining, Melissa. Reality. Go on up. I shall give you adequate time to prepare and then I will join you. We are man and wife. How else are we to get through the night if not the way we started—with a meeting of the senses, and sating the physical needs of our bodies?’

  Melissa felt a sudden quiver run through her as she left him, a sudden quickening deep within her as if something came to life there, something that had lain dormant for a long time. Knowing he was watching her, that he stood in the doorway, his arms folded and a shoulder resting against the frame, she went up the stairs in awed bewilderment, feeling his eyes burning holes into her back as she went.

  * * *

  Laurence continued to watch her until she had disappeared. During their wedding yesterday, he had sensed her tension and her inner confusion, and he realised, as if for the first time, just how difficult she must be finding this situation. This was the day after the most important day of a woman’s life, their first day as husband and wife. She had left everything that was familiar to her in order to face a new way of life at the side of a husband who was still a relative stranger to her, a man who, through his restrained manner, he realised with a twinge of regret, must have given the impression that he was indifferent to her. Suddenly, without pausing to question the reason why, he wanted to make things easier for her, to show that he was willing to give their marriage a chance.

  Despite the time they had been apart he found her stimulating and was drawn to her. He admired her beauty and her spirit, the warm depths of
her eyes, the occasional flash of scarlet indignation on her cheeks when things weren’t going her way and she tried to defy him, and he felt a twinge of pleasure. She was the lively girl he had met in the Spring Gardens, the one who had amused him, who had flirted and laughed, tossing her bright head, her eyes deep and glowing and her lips wide and soft and ready to be kissed.

  From the very first moment of meeting her, his mind had been locked in furious combat. Perhaps it was because she was so unlike Alice as it was possible to be. Everything about her threw him off balance. Melissa’s mere presence resurrected emotions he thought had died when he had finally seen Alice for what she truly was. Melissa had stirred his desire as no other woman had succeeded in doing for a long time. Just now, when he had seen the passion in her eyes brought about by their kiss, he wondered why, from the very first, she had been able to affect him like no other woman had in a long time and why he felt this consuming need to possess and gentle her without breaking her spirit.

  Chapter Five

  Daisy was waiting for Melissa when she reached her bedchamber. With quiet respect she helped her undress. All the while Melissa’s eyes were drawn to the huge bed with its velvet curtains and turned-down covers. Garbed in her concealing white nightdress, she sat at the dressing table while Daisy removed the pins in her hair and brushed it over her shoulders. When this was done she turned down the oil lamps and added more coals to the glowing embers in the hearth.

  Her duties done Daisy turned to her mistress. ‘I’ll leave you now—unless there is something else you require.’

  ‘No—no, thank you, Daisy. Go to bed. It’s been a long day for all of us. Violet might not be able to go to sleep without me,’ she said, donning her robe as she went to the door, ‘and with a stranger looking after her she might fret—although Tansy seemed to know what she was about.’

  Melissa was satisfied that the young nursemaid appointed to look after Violet was more than capable, but Melissa wanted to make sure her precious daughter was settled. The nursery was a lovely room of reasonable size, simply and elegantly furnished. It was cosy and warm, with all the requirements for taking care of a child. Toys spilled out of boxes and a handsome white rocking horse occupied one corner. It was fortunate she had gone to check on her because Tansy was indeed having difficulty putting Violet down. She was tearful, her eyes awash and her cheeks red from crying. On seeing her mama, she reached out her arms. Melissa took her and held her close. The familiar contact and soft, loving words soon turned the child’s sobbing to snuffles.

  * * *

  Through the door connecting their rooms, having changed into a floor-length robe of maroon velvet, Laurence entered his wife’s chamber, expecting to find her waiting for him. He was taken aback when he saw she wasn’t there. Daisy was about to go to her own chamber.

  ‘Where is my wife?’

  ‘Oh—sir—you startled me. She—she was concerned about Violet and has just gone to check up on her.’

  Relief tore through Laurence. Of course she was concerned about their daughter—her first night in a strange house. He should have known that was where Melissa would be.

  Laurence entered the nursery. The unfamiliar scene made him stop and catch his breath. The light was dim and his wife was slowly walking back and forth across the carpet, a sleepy Violet’s head resting on her shoulder. It was a lovely scene, one of homeliness and contentment, and something deep and profound stirred within Laurence. He stood for a moment, watching her. He had never seen anything more delightful or touching than Melissa’s closeness to their daughter. It was plain to him that Violet was everything to her and he couldn’t help feeling a surge of male protectiveness towards both her and their daughter and the weight of responsibility for having drawn them into his life.

  Unbeknown to her he continued to watch. Attired in a deep pink robe, her feet bare and her dark hair unbound and resting on her shoulders, she looked at Violet, her expression one of melting softness. He recalled how he had taken a fancy to her the moment he had set eyes on her and enjoyed every single moment of the short time they had spent together. He had thought she was quite lovely, strong and brave of spirit, but at the same time like a delicate fluff of swansdown to go in whichever direction the wind sent her, with her liquid amber eyes, the fine ivory and rose of her skin and the lovely proud tilt to her head which he’d particularly liked. There had been a delicate quality about her, wary but not cautious exactly, with the air of one who expects dangerous, exciting things ahead but is prepared to meet them head-on regardless.

  She was warm and good-humoured and he found her pleasant to be with. He liked her natural intelligence, passion and empathy and the fact that she was unconcerned by social structure or setting out to impress. He had once believed she was a young woman who was no stranger to intimate, casual encounters, but he now knew she’d had no more knowledge of the erotic arts than a young girl, but she’d still had it in her to arouse and entice him.

  ‘So this is where you are. I thought you had flown the nest,’ he murmured, moving further into the room and concentrating on the tiny face of his daughter. ‘Is she asleep?’

  ‘Almost. It’s been a long day for her. She usually sleeps in my room. I thought she might be confused by the strangeness of the nursery and everything that’s happened. It was fortunate I came up. She was crying.’

  Laurence reached out and stroked Violet’s face with his thumb. ‘She’s tired.’ Her eyes started to close. She fought sleep for another minute and Laurence and Tansy watched silently as Melissa continued to walk slowly to and fro, then stopped as she snuffled into a contented rest.

  ‘She should settle now.’

  Placing her in the cot, Melissa gently smoothed the hair from her daughter’s damp brow and followed the caress with a soft kiss. Laurence came to stand beside her and gazed down at his daughter. She was lying on her back, her hands on either side of her face, her chubby palms open. Reaching into the cot, he touched one of her soft cheeks with the tip of his finger. The fan of her dark lashes shadowed her plump rosy cheeks. Her rosebud lips were soft and pink and slightly open. He found it difficult to believe that she was his daughter, flesh of his flesh. Something stirred in him, drawing quite dramatically into an emotion he did not at first recognise but which, when he’d studied it further, he was certain he would find gratifying.

  He was quite unprepared for the feelings and the emotions that almost overwhelmed him as memories of his son’s birth assailed him, remembering how he had held him in his arms shortly after he was born. He breathed deeply, dragging air into his tortured lungs, fighting for control. Everything that had any meaning had been taken from him when Toby had died, leaving a great emptiness which could never be filled. But now he had Violet and the void left by his son was suddenly filled with hope.

  Seeming to sense his struggle, Melissa looked at him and smiled and moved a little closer. It was as if she had the urge to reach up and press her lips to his cheek. With difficulty she appeared to resist, but, as if wanting to make some kind of contact, instead she touched his cheek with gentle fingers, the lightest of caresses. It was her first unsolicited gesture towards him and it took him aback. As it did her.

  ‘I sense what you are feeling, Laurence. I do understand how difficult this must be for you.’ She looked at Tansy. ‘We will leave Violet now, Tansy, but if she should wake and be inconsolable you must come and tell me.’

  With a wistful glance at the sleeping child, reluctantly she let Laurence lead her out of the room.

  ‘Violet will be fine, Melissa. Try not to worry about her.’

  ‘I know. It’s me—just being silly.’

  ‘No. It’s you being a loving and devoted mother.’

  He noted the tension in her body when he took her arm. Frowning with concern over the apprehension he saw on her face, suspecting it was not entirely concern over Violet that was troubling her, he halted outside her room. ‘I am not a
monster, Melissa. I suppose you could say this is our wedding night, but I have told you that I will not force you to do anything you do not want to do. You have my word on that. Everything has happened with such speed that I never courted you in the way that you deserved, or gave you the consideration of which you are worthy. We can sleep apart for the time being, if that is what you prefer.’

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, her tension easing a little on hearing this, but she did not move away. ‘You won’t have to do that.’ She leaned slightly towards him.

  As Laurence looked at her, the sight of her warm amber eyes, her soft cheeks and fragile neck aroused in him a violent and unfamiliar desire, such as no woman had aroused in him since they had come together all those months ago. As she sighed deeply and stretched her spine languidly, like a cat beneath the sun’s warmth, the slender, graceful length of Melissa was outlined beneath her robe. The fabric strained over her breasts, rich and full. Her figure was taut and trim. All at once Laurence felt unbalanced by the strength of his emotions. Sensing a softening in her and her hesitation to open the door to her room, he did it for her, drawing her inside and closing it.

  ‘I don’t have to leave,’ he murmured, drawing her into his arms, relieved that she didn’t resist, ‘unless you want me to. I only have to walk through that door over there and I will be in my own bedchamber.’

  ‘Or you could just stay here with me,’ she suggested.

  ‘That is what I hoped you would say.’ Brushing the hair from her eyes, he smiled down at her. ‘I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist me.’

  ‘Resist you? What exactly did you have in mind?’ Melissa raised her eyebrows.

  ‘Why don’t you let me show you?’

  Laurence lowered his head and his mouth captured hers, soft and flower-like beneath his own. She was warm and pliant in his arms, her body and hair sweet-scented. His senses began to flee away and his breathing quickened. He loved the feel of her in his arms as her body moved against his and she moaned quietly. Lifting his head, he released her arms which had found their way round his neck. Taking her hand, he led her to the bed. Again he bent to place a soft kiss on her lips, then drew back.