The chronometer over the mantel read nine. “The clock is wrong.”
“The clock is broken.”
“You haven’t hired a machinist to repair it?”
“It didn’t seem that critical. Making plans to acquire a husband was a higher priority.”
Carefully, I lifted the timepiece away from the fireplace, testing its weight. I marveled at the grain pattern of the veneer. The elegant wood had been polished to satin luster, begging to be touched. Details of crafted brass gave a gorgeous finish to the item. It was sacrilege such a fine piece wasn’t functional. I opened the back and explored the insides as best I could by the firelight. Even so, I saw the problem right away.
“It doesn’t appear to be damaged. I should be able to correct this fairly easily.”
“You know how to fix a clock?”
I could hear the doubt. “Yes. I made friends with the local clocksmith a long time ago. Father wasn’t pleased I was learning a trade skill, but it gave me something to do so he didn’t have to interact with me so often. As long as I kept it quiet, he didn’t stop me.”
“When were you going to tell me that?”
Was that a touch of annoyance I heard? “I assumed you knew.”
“Hmm… I never would have guessed.”
Disappointment pricked at my bubble of contentment. “You don’t really know much about me, do you?”
“Your personal skills were not on my list of requirements.”
Rother’s words were meant as a joke—I hoped—but the dismissive undertone still stung. I wondered if my mother felt the same as she navigated her marriage. It was likely a common symptom of an arranged marriage. The bitter drawback of a noble’s privilege. In truth, I knew as little about the man I’d given myself to over and over as he knew of me. I shook off the sensation and sought to find the positive side of my union.
“My tools were in my luggage. I wasn’t about to leave them behind for my father to dispose of. Where would they be?”
“Since we’ve locked ourselves in here, they’re likely resting in the hallway. The staff were under strict orders not to disturb us beyond providing meals, until we emerged.”
I hunted down my breeches and jacket and started dressing. I debated finding my undergarments, but took the leap and decided they weren’t required. The freedom I’d found without clothing since we first consummated the marriage surprised me. Rother continued to lie back on the expansive bed, a decadent example of temptation. His stare refused to waver as he smirked like the devil.
“What?”
Rother chuckled. “I’m amused by how worried you are someone might see you undressed.”
“And I find it disturbing how indifferent you are on the subject. It’s only marginally acceptable to walk about this way in the privacy of our bedroom. I have no intention of stepping outside wrapped in a bedsheet.”
“No one in this house would be upset by it.”
I glared at Rother in utter disbelief. “I would.” As if two days of communal hibernation with my husband would erase my manners. Two days was my best guess. Rother refused to allow me to cover myself between sessions, which left me exhilarated. However, it was one thing to be bare during intimacy, quite another to walk down the halls in my birthday suit. One simply didn’t act like a heathen in front of the help.
Rother climbed out of bed, his unclothed, powerful movements making my heart race for more reasons than one. “Well, hurry along and get your tools. I feel another urge to have my way with you coming on.”
My face heated at his frank remark, but I continued to watch his glorious backside as he strode into the en suite. Fresh arousal forced my inhale, filling my lungs. I’d never dressed so quickly without Harston’s aid.
Opening the door, I glanced in each direction, looking for my luggage and witnesses. At the end of the hall sat my suitcase, and I made a point to close the door as I headed after it. Perhaps my husband was disaffected by the stares of others, but I didn’t want to encourage any passersby.
As soon as I stepped out, the protection of the room collapsed and a wave of contrition descended on me. I understood our activities were proper between a married couple—well, most of them might qualify—but anyone who saw me would know what we’d been up to, and I wasn’t ready to face it. Not publicly. I could only imagine what crude jibe Blythe would make at my expense.
With an anxious step I hurried to my luggage, kneeling to inspect it. My case’s buckles were still closed, and I was relieved to see no sign of tampering. I hadn’t been in Marisol long enough to trust the staff beyond Harston.
I was so focused on gathering my belongings, I didn’t hear the footsteps until they were virtually on top of me.
“I’m amazed you can walk upright without help.”
Cringing, I struggled to find a polite tone.
“Good afternoon, Vivian.”
“As long as you’ve been hidden away, I bet it’s been more than just a good afternoon.” With a conspiratorial wink, Vivian sang her words at me like we were longtime friends, as if I would forget her rancorous scene from my arrival.
Playing along, I enacted a false smile that would make my mother proud. “It has been a good day or two.”
Vivian’s teasing could be considered innocent enough by most, but I was raised amongst the vapid sniping of wealthy aristocrats who spent their time practicing the subtle art of character assassination. Anything Vivian could learn would be used against me in her petty intrigues. She was intelligent, but nowhere near as skilled as the bored women in my former circle. It didn’t, however, make her harmless.
“Do you need any help with your bags?”
I opened the side pocket to confirm where my tools were hidden. “That’s very kind of you, but I only have the one for now.”
“Only the one?”
“The rest are en route.” I hoped.
“I’d ask if you and Rother were getting on, but after the last few days, I’d say so.” Vivian giggled, hiding her mouth behind her hand.
“We’re doing well, I think. Thank you for asking.”
Not being properly dressed in front of employees unnerved me, putting me at a disadvantage. I hadn’t intended to spend any amount of time in the hallway. Like everything else in Marisol, it was an unfamiliar occurrence. This conversation was highly suspect as well. I wished I could simply walk away and ignore her, but politeness was so ingrained in me, I was forced to play out this theater. Vivian had yet to apologize for her earlier outburst, and no doubt her friendly discourse would be short-lived.
“You’re really sweet. I hope Rother keeps you long enough for your luggage to arrive. Most of the virgins he’s turned out over the years didn’t have that luxury.”
And there it was. The first rake of her claws. It held less artistry than I expected. I shouldn’t have been surprised Rother’s marital requirements were known, but my inexperience still left me with doubts. Rother and I hardly knew each other.
Vivian’s candied tone took on a more malicious pallor. “He likes them when they’re fresh, but tends to bore of them once they learn some skills. He’s an excellent teacher.”
“And you would know this because….”
“How do you think I came to work in Delaga House?”
I tried to hide my discomfort, but the heat in my face had to be visible. There was no doubt of Rother’s past. His carnal knowledge could hardly be written off as hyperbolic stories. But the image of my husband, bedding down this… maid disquieted me. My displeasure of using foul language was being tested. Even amongst the Deilian nobles, whispers of indiscretions with the staff could be heard, but it would never be uttered out loud.
“Why are you telling me this?”
“I don’t want you to get hurt.”
I scoffed. “Ah… altruism at its finest. Saint Vivian.”
“I’ve just seen a lot of people come and go from his bedroom.”
Raising a brow, I eyed Vivian top to bottom, unable to control the ca
llous sneer. “Everyone’s allowed a sad mistake or two in their lives.”
She wasn’t the only one who knew how to wield a sharp tongue.
Vivian’s false manners dissolved for a moment and reassembled into something more malevolent. Jealousy radiated off her with such force, it left a sour taste on the air. I knew better than to let her gather her wits and speak first.
“Whatever reason Rother had for slumming around with the help in the past is over.”
A hand on her hip, she smiled with hostility. “You think so?”
“He didn’t waste his time marrying you, did he?”
Her smug grin flattened. “You’ll be out of here before long.”
“Easier said than done. And not by you.”
“It’s just a matter of time.”
I’d had enough of this. Years of taunts and verbal abuse by the males in my family left me defensive in a way I’d never liked. Perhaps Vivian thought I would be a victim for her amusement, or her resentment could drive me out the door. She was more wrong than she could imagine.
Even though we were nearly the same height, I straightened my shirt and looked down on Vivian with haughty scorn. Inhaling through my nose, I glowered with all the condescension I could muster.
“I’ve yet to see proof of it, but Rother tells me you’re an excellent employee. Whatever that means. However, given his response to your charms when I arrived, I imagine there’s a limit to how much nonsense he’s willing to stomach from you. I’d hate to see someone turned out on the street for not knowing how to stay focused on their job.” Stepping into her personal space, I lowered my voice to a growl. “Perhaps if you learn to speak less and stay to task, we won’t have to experience it. Get back to work.”
Furious, Vivian stood dumbstruck as I turned, grabbing my bag. Whatever she expected of Rother’s neophyte husband, this challenge wasn’t it. Back home, I’d witnessed the dressing down of unruly staff on a number of occasions and recreated the scene better than I’d hoped.
“Don’t make me call Alexandra.” Even within my brief introduction, I knew Alexandra was not a woman to trifle with.
It was nice to see the head of house position held as much weight in Marisol as in Deilia. The sound of Vivian’s footsteps faded as she stormed off. Even so, I didn’t feel the triumph as I walked away with confident steps, dragging my case behind me. I felt sickened. Because I’d allowed Vivian to bring out the worst in me, to draw on behaviors I’d learned and abhorred. In one brief exchange, I’d channeled the man I’d learned to hate.
Lord Arthur Valencus. My father.
“ARE YOU planning on tinkering with that clock for much longer?”
“It’s what I do. I’m almost done.”
Rother gave me an impatient sigh. Sprawled out naked on the bed, he waited for me. His erect member flagged, the indecent stroking having ended some time ago. In all fairness, I would have completed fixing the chronometer earlier if I hadn’t continued to take sideways glances at his efforts. Even after all the carnal things we’d shared, his frank hedonism unsettled me.
“A hobby may be useful for you to spend your time on, but I don’t prefer to come second to it.”
“You act as if there’s nothing more between us than physical relations.”
A crease formed over the bridge of his nose as he rolled onto his side. “The real world will force its way in soon enough, and we won’t have the opportunity to indulge ourselves like this very often.”
Setting down my tools, I exhaled. “I know. You’re right.”
“What’s bothering you?”
I froze. Since I came back inside, I’d been fiddling with the broken clock to little success, which was not like me. Delicate machinery would usually dance with me, calming my rough edges, but I struggled to make it work.
“Why do you ask?”
“I can see your agitation through your Deilian veneer.”
Either my skill at maintaining a facade was slipping or Rother’s uncanny ability to read a man surpassed it. I wasn’t happy with either prospect. “I had a run-in with Vivian in the hallway.”
“Yes. I think you handled yourself brilliantly.”
“You heard us?”
“I heard voices. I made a point to listen. The walls aren’t that thick.”
The altercation’s offense was now dwarfed by the knowledge that all my uncontrollable noises during our active lovemaking could have been heard by anyone in the hallway.
“The whole incident disturbed me.”
“Don’t let it bother you. Vivian has a habit of believing everyone wants to hear every random thought that escapes her skull.”
Vivian had said many things in an effort to undermine my new marriage, and she succeeded to a point. Repetitious venom echoed in my head, refusing to be silent. With what little I knew of my husband, I couldn’t throw out her crass words as lies.
“Does she tell the truth?”
Rother shrugged as he rolled onto his back, looking at the ceiling. “I suppose. Her version, anyway.”
“She made improper comments about you.”
“Of course she did.” Rother snorted. “Vivian wishes I would rekindle our brief, lackluster affair.”
My stomach dropped at his admission. I couldn’t disguise my disappointment as my breathing quickened. “You’ve been with her?”
“It was a number of years ago.” Rother’s tone was dismissive, but it didn’t improve my mood.
In her destructive manner, Vivian had told me as much, but I’d chased it away, clinging to a thready hope it was false. Yet somehow, I’d heard the truth when she taunted me. Memories of all the new intimacies Rother taught me were now mixed with images of Vivian. No matter how pretty she was, how could anyone find her attractive enough to share such things after spending more than five minutes with the vacuous harpy? I felt unclean thinking of what they’d shared.
“How could you? With her?”
Rother sat upright and slung his feet over the edge to the floor. “I don’t appreciate your tone.”
“I’m not sure I like the idea of living in the same house as your scandalous indiscretions.” I couldn’t believe the standards in Marisol were so lax this scenario might be found acceptable.
“That’s enough.”
Snarling, Rother stood tall, his aura of command undiminished by his lack of clothing. The flickering light from the fireplace sharpened the shadows on his skin, giving his face an unexpected hardness. I, however, was too offended to cower.
“Just how many others are under this roof?”
With a growl, Rother squared his shoulders, his mouth drawing thin. “I will not dignify that with an answer. Nathan, I realize you were raised to see all physical relations as obscenity, but I will not sit back and be taken to trial for my past by a man who has none.”
“That is not my fault.”
“Your past, no, but your endless judgments are all yours. Judgments you learned from the very people who locked up your honor. Remember, without me you’d still be wearing that damned chastity belt. I think the least you could do is show me a little gratitude.”
I gasped at his audacity. “Like all the other virgins did?”
Rother said nothing, but his whole body tightened, radiating his displeasure. I hadn’t missed that Vivian’s ranting including intentional remarks about many others—all virgins—and I needed to know. There was a theme emerging here I found disturbing. My inexperience was a requirement for our marriage contract, and I held a naïve fantasy over why a successful lord would make such a request. Especially from a land and culture as permissive as Marisol. Perhaps I blocked it out, overwhelmed with all the changes in my life.
Rother stepped over to the wardrobe and pulled out a fresh outfit. He dressed himself in a casual shirt and breeches as the silence drove needles into my spine. He made a pretense of ignoring me, but I knew his attention was primed for me to say even one more thing he didn’t like. The tension in the room would have given off a harrowin
g chord if a bowstring could be run across it. I couldn’t bring myself to be the one to end the impasse, nor was I sure if I should be.
With his collar left open, Rother strode to the door, speaking over his shoulder as he turned the knob.
“I always knew I’d marry a man, but men with too much experience complicate relationships. I admit, Nathan, your spirit makes you more interesting than anyone else I’ve been with, but there is always a point where being demanding becomes tedious.”
THE BROKEN clock mocked me, lying open with my tools jutting out like an ignored surgery. Without it, I couldn’t be sure how long I sat there alone, but I guessed at least an hour or two had passed since Rother stormed out, possibly longer.
At first I fumed at him for walking away when I wasn’t finished giving him my thoughts. I had every right to be unhappy learning about Rother’s history with the help. A small amount of forward notice might have forestalled my anger. Well, not likely, but a warning would have been polite.
A while after, I spent a time whipping myself for being so harsh. Hardly knowing the man, I couldn’t be certain his manner wasn’t completely normal in Marisol, compared to Deilia. With the severe way he reacted to Vivian’s advances when we arrived, I knew he didn’t take challenges to his authority well. Powerful men rarely did. I should have handled the situation with more grace, not with the vitriol I usually saved for dealing with my family.
Neither revelation was useful as I sat staring at the gutted clock. Less than a week, and I’d already thrown my marriage off the rails. Wonderful work, Nathan. Idiot.
The door opening broke my musing. Rother stepped in, a tray of food in one hand. With a cautious step, he placed the offering next to the mangled clock. A bowl of stew. One random scent and my stomach growled.
“Alexandra said you hadn’t eaten since lunch.”
“That’s very kind of her. I wasn’t sure how long you’d be gone.”
“I had work to attend to.” Every line in Rother’s body was rigid, and his eyes narrow. Tension emanated from his every motion, as if waiting for a new argument to emerge.
Innocence and Carnality Page 8
