by Lauren Smith
“My wild one,” Adam sighed as he cupped her cheek. “You deserve bouquets, boxes of sweets, presents as well as passion. I’ve given you none of these, but someday I will remedy that. You can have it all, the gentleman and the rogue at your beck and call.” He stroked his thumb over her bottom lip. She exhaled as she lost herself in gazing at this gorgeous man.
“The gentleman and the rogue?” she asked.
He smiled a wolfish smile. “A man who can give you sweetness when you want it.” He threaded his fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck, tugging just enough that she felt completely in his power. “And a rogue’s brazen roughness when you need it.”
Something sharpened inside her, like a sense she hadn’t known she’d possessed. It heightened everything about that moment until she felt something pulse hard between her thighs.
Adam was not a brute, but she could tell that every inch of him was full of power, radiating a raw, primal strength. His face, while almost predatory in his handsomeness, was not without gentleness. She gazed upon her wild lion knowing she could trust him to protect her rather than devour her. He continued to hold her gaze, neither of them speaking. Her thoughts spiraled with dark, carnal images, and she wondered if he was thinking the same, given the way he looked at her with such heat. Then he blinked, breaking the spell, and she drew in a shaky breath.
“We should go to dinner,” he said. “Unless you still need a moment?”
“I . . .” She pulled her thoughts away from him and nodded. “I’m ready to go down.”
He stepped back and offered her his arm. Letty walked with him into the corridor, running her fingertips over the wood panels on the walls.
Adam took her down a different set of stairs, this one made of wood, not stone. Crouching lions sat on the banister,silently roaring at passersby. They were fine heraldic beasts, their front paws clutching shields that bore a unicorn and a Scottish thistle. Evidence of the ancient line of Morreys was everywhere.
The dining room was far more intimate in size than Letty had expected. No grand medieval roughhewn table with a pack of wolfhounds lying by a roaring fire, waiting for meat off a trencher. No, this room was small but elegant.
“It isn’t what you expected, is it?” Adam teased.
“No—I mean, yes. I mean . . .” She ducked her head, too embarrassed to say what she had actually expected. She was still thinking of that moment when he’d grasped her hair and held her captive, and she thought of his promise—to give her the gentleman and the rogue, whenever she wished. Letty swallowed hard and did her best to focus on their conversation.
“Most of the older furniture has long since been removed and replaced with modern styles. We do our best, even out here in the country, to keep the castle updated.” His tone was still light, but she heard the pride in his words.
He had every right to be proud. The marble fireplace was vast and exquisitely carved, the table was made of a beautiful mahogany, and the walls were cream accented by gold wainscoting. Mahogany doors leading in and out of the room on both sides were a clear contrast to the pale cream walls. Greenvelvetbacked the chairs surrounding the table, offered a comfortable place of repose, rather than the harsh high-back chairs with no cushions that she was accustomed to in typical dining rooms in London.
Gillian, James, and Caroline had already gathered around the fire and werein quiet conversation.
“Ah, there you are,” Caroline said as they entered. “We wondered if you had gotten lost.”
Letty smiled at Caroline, glad to see Adam’s sister truly was happy that she was here.
“Well, shall we eat before our cook becomes overanxious?” Caroline asked.
Adam chuckled as he seated Letty beside him. “Mrs. Oxley is most particular about her food not going cold.”
“Is she a very good cook?” Letty knew that some old country householdswith families who didn’t visit that oftenanddid very little entertaining, had cooks who were perfunctory at best, as they often had other duties in addition to cooking fine meals.
“Quite good, actually, but she threatens to quit every Christmas, so be ready for that.”
“She threatens to quit?”
“Yes, she thinks she will retire and go live with her son in London, but then she changes her mind in a matter of days, usually on Christmas Eve, and returns to the kitchens, bellowing out orders. It is rather amusing, once you become acquainted with her. She might seem prickly at first, but you never will find a better cook. I don’t care what our friends in London say about their fancy cooks from France. Mrs. Oxley has them all beat.”
Adam flashed her a smile, and Letty’s stomach flipped in excitement.
“So, shall we talk wedding plans?” Gillian asked the table at large.
“Oh, yes,” Caroline said. The two women began to discuss Letty’s wedding as though she wasn’t even in the room.
She listened to Caroline and Gillian plan her life. She could have interrupted them, demanded things to be done as she wished, but she was tired. The last few days had robbed her of her strength. Right now, she did not feel she could be even remotely active in the planning of her wedding.
“Letty, what do you think?” Adam asked, drawing her out of the thoughts circling in her head.She tried to focus on the soup in front of her, which had gone a bit cold.
“Whatever they decide is fine with me.”
“It is your day,” Adam reminded her. “You should make the most of it.”
He met her gaze and held it. She wished she knew what he was thinking behind those fathomless, mercurial eyes. Most of the young men of her acquaintance were so easytoread, easy to understand. They discussed their lands, their horses, their favorite sports or gambling, and occasionally—when they thought she couldn’t hear, of course—their mistresses.
But Morrey—Adam—was nothing like those men. Whatever thoughts ran in his mind would be serious, dangerous, and most likely fascinating. He had been right about her—she was drawn to him and excited by the sensual promises he made. The man was clearly knowledgeable about all manner of sins of the flesh, and she was going to be married to this prowling wolf who could likely devour any maiden he liked at his leisure. The thought didn’t frighten her, however. Quite the opposite, in fact, if she was the maiden to be devoured.
“Letty, I know you’ve thought about this.” James faced Morrey with a soft, brotherly smile. “She’s been planning this since she was a child. She used to marry off her dolls.”
“James!” Letty hissed in mortification, her smile wilting and her blood boiling.
“Well, it’s true—” James began, but he suddenly winced and glanced under the table. Gillian glared at him, and Letty suspected his wife had kicked him in the shin, though not hard enough, in her opinion.
Morrey caught Letty’s gaze again. As he lifted his goblet of wine to his lips, he smiled at her, but this smile was not a sweet expression. It was enticing, seductive, intimate, as though they were together in some private secret.
“James and Adam are right,” Gillian said. “Letty, you must tell us what you wish. Let us start with flowers. Chilgrave has a lovely hothouse.”
“Oh, well, I do like orchids,” she admitted, knowing that orchids were rare and also quite scandalous, given the way they resembled certain parts of a woman’s body, but she couldn’t deny that she liked them.
“Orchids . . . Well, that is a bit unorthodox,” Caroline said. “But we are having a small country wedding, so perhaps it’s all right to do as we wish.”
“If my bride desires orchids, then my bride will have them,” Morrey said, and she didn’t miss the possessive tone to the way he said “my bride.”
This truly was nothing like she’d imagined her wedding would be. As a girl, she’d envisioned a large crowd, hundreds of flowers by the altar, and a handsome young man with laughing eyes and a warm smile waiting for her to come to him. She had not imagined a dark-haired, serious, enigmatic man whose kisses could erase all rational thought.
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“Orchids it shall be,” Caroline said. “I assume you brought your trousseau?”
“Yes,” Letty said. Her London modiste, Madame Ella, had worked a veritable miracle in just one day.
Letty relaxed a little more now that she felt she was to be included in the wedding planning. Yet she couldn’t get her mind off Morrey,or his seductive gaze. He watched her for the entire meal, and when it was over, he was there to escort her to her bedchamber. They soon stood alone in the corridor together, just outside her bedroom.
“Thank you, Lord Morrey.”
“You really must start calling me Adam. More importantly, you must learn to stand up for yourself.” He tilted her chin up to face him. “I know there is fire in you. I see it in those lovely, innocent eyes. You must let that fire burn. Do not let it go out. I have no desire for a meek,submissive wife. I want the woman I met at the Allerton ball. You faced danger without fear that night.” When she opened her mouth to protest, he continued. “You were my equal. Never cease to be that version of yourself.”
She looked to him, mystified. He wanted her to be . . . what? She wasn’t quite sure.She bit her lip and would’ve looked away if not for the spell of his gaze.
“Lord Mor—Adam, I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
“You will.” He traced the seam of her lips with his thumb and leaned in to whisper, “I shall dream of kissing you tonight.”
He stepped back and seemed to vanish in the shadowy corridor.
She would dream of him kissing her too, and it left her only that much more confused.
5
Adam was up before dawn, pacing in his chamber long before his valet arrived to help him dress. He did his best to rein in his thoughts, wondering how he should proceed, not only with a new wife but also with a virgin. The carnal track of his thoughts quickly strayed to those of her general safety and whether the measures he’d taken would be sufficient. He knew how easily a man’s throat could be slit in the dark, or how a shadow could slip past and into a place it didn’t belong if one was not careful.
A knock on his door halted his pacing. “Come in, Helms.”
His valet entered. The two of them shared a bit of small talk, with Helms teasing him about the wedding. The man was a godsend, humorous and lighthearted whenever Adam became too serious. He always seemed to know when Adam’s mood needed a bit of lightening up.
Helms ran a brush over Adam’s shoulders, removing imaginary specks of dust.“There, my lord. You cut a fine figure today.”
“I shan’t shame the House of Morrey today, I suppose,” he mused, and Helms grinned.
“Certainly not. If you wished to compare who looks finest, I wager you could go a round or two against your ancestors in the portrait gallery and certainly win.”
Adam chuckled. The portraits in the gallery had always been a source of jesting between them. Helms was quite insistent on keeping Adam dressed fashionably, while Adam sought to dress conservatively so as not to attract attention. More than once Helms had reminded him that his forefathers had embraced the bolder modes of fashion.
Once appropriately attired in his wedding clothes, he retrieved the black box he had removed from a trunk in the attic. Inside was a lovely coronet studded with sapphires and diamonds. He opened the box to look at the glorious item again.
The last woman to wear this had been his great-grandmother. His grandmother and mother had dared not wear it. An old family legend said that anywoman who wore the coronet must be brave—brave enough to die for love.
Shortly after they had been married and she had first put it on, his great-grandmother had saved his great-grandfather from a deadly stable fire. As a result, Adam’s mother and grandmother had been far too superstitious to wear the coronet, not wishing to tempt fate. So the coronet had sat in a trunk gathering dust—until now. But, knowing that Letty had faced death once with him already, Adam felt she could wear it without fear. He wouldn’t allow anything to happen to her.
Box firmly in hand, he stepped into the hall and entrusted it to a maid to deliver to his future bride.
James stepped into the corridor just as the maid passed by.He came over to clap Adam on the back. “Ah, there you are. Feeling squeamish?” he joked.
“Not exactly. Just worried.”
James frowned slightly. “Not about my sister, I hope?” He fell into step beside Adam as they walked down the corridor toward the stairs.
“No, toward her, I have no doubts, other than concerns about her safety. Spies have a way of turning up around every corner, and the last thing I want is someone shooting my wife on the steps of the church.”
James clasped his hands behind his back as they continued on their way. They soon reached the gatehouse door and waited for the grooms to bring their horses so they could ride to the chapel.
“Get her into the coach quickly. I suppose that’s about the only thing we can do. I understand your worries, but if you wrap her up in blankets and never let her do anything, she’ll lose her joy for life and so will you. You’ll need to find a balance between protection and freedom.”
“Easier said than done.”
He and James rode to the small chapel abutting his estate to see to the last-minute details of the ceremony. A dozen footmen had already arrived and were arranging vases of orchids around the alter. Bouquets of flowers adorned each pew. His staff had done commendable workin such a short amount of time.
It struck Adam that he was about to get married. In the last few days, he hadn’t let the gravity of the situation truly settle upon him. He’d been treating this more as a mission, a problem that needed to be solved, and not yet thinking of how much his life was truly going to change.
This was no temporary arrangement. This would be permanent. He could say he was marrying for his country, and he had even considered ways to escape once the danger had passed, for Letty’s sake.
A vicar could be bought off, a signature signed incorrectly, and an annulment achieved a few months later, so long as the marriage had not been consummated. He would bear the brunt of any scandal, and Letty would be free to continue her life as before.
But the truth was he wanted Letty, and his loyalty to his country had merely given him an excuse to at last claim that which he desired. He only hoped she felt the same way about him. Everything about their private moments together seemed to indicate it.
The vicar met them just inside the entryway. “Welcome, my lord.”
Adam shook the older man’s hand. “Everything looks well.”
The vicar’s spectacled eyes twinkled. “Your servants have been quite dedicated to the decoration of God’s house. I believe it will please your bride.”
The exotic floral scent of the orchids filled the room. It made him think of Letty.“I certainly hope it will.”
“She will love it,” James promised. “She adores flowers—but not in the way most women do, mind you. She genuinely enjoys the cultivation of them. She was always in our hothouse, meeting with our gardener to discuss herbology and flowers.”
“That is good to know. I too enjoy growing things. I will be sure to take her to the hothouse.” Adam would take pleasure in showing her all the plants and rare flowers he cultivated. “James . . . would you stand with me as my groomsman? I had not even thought to select one yet.”
James chuckled. “I’d be honored. I’m not a bachelor, though. Isn’t that one of the traditional requirements?”
“I suppose it is, but I don’t particularly have the urge to chase down a bachelor at the moment. I don’t suppose the vicar will mind.”
Adam and James helped set up the last few vases of orchids before they heard the guests starting to arrive.
“Are you ready?” James teased, despite the serious nature of the question.
“I suppose so. It’s all rather strange, to think that shortly I’m to be leg-shackled. I’m not complaining, mind you. I merely hadn’t thought I would ever do it.” He had given up on that future two years ago when he’
d committed himself to this dangerous path. But now here he was at the altar, ready to swear his heart, body, and soul to a young woman he barely knew in order to protect her.
I must have faith that this is the right choice.
Letty stood still, her heart beating fast as Caroline retrieved the Morrey coronet from its box. She bowed her head a little to allow them to nestle the glittering diadem into her artfully styled hair. Gillian, who stood next to Caroline, gave a little gasp.
“What? What’s the matter?” Letty asked in sudden panic.
“Nothing. You look absolutely beautiful, Letty. Come see.” Gillian pointed to the tall mirror that stood in the corner of the room.
Caroline beamed at her. “She’s right. Go look.”
Letty stepped up to the mirror and saw a stranger. This woman wore a high-waisted pale-blue gown with a delicately beaded bodice and a long flowing skirt draped over with a sheer silver netting, studded with hundreds of tiny pearls. Two white gloves stretched up to the stranger’s elbows, and a shimmering coronet sparkled atop her head. She looked royal, like a princess of some fairy court.
She did not look like herself.
Gillian placed her hands on Letty’s shoulders.“Are you all right?”
“I feel so strange. Not at all myself.”
“That’s to be expected,” Gillian said. “Marriage is a union of two souls and two bodies. It’s natural to feel displaced. But you will find yourself again. Hold fast to who you are, and you won’t be lost.”
“Were you lost?” she asked Gillian.
Gillian’s gaze was soft and thoughtful as she gave Letty another gentle squeeze of the shoulders. “Not as such, but the feeling of almost losing myself was there. If your brother hadn’t been so steadfast in his love for me and not wanting to change me, I easily could have been drowned by my own doubts and become something I wasn’t.”
“We mustn’t delay too long,” Caroline cut in gently. “The guests will have arrived, and the vicar will be waiting.”
