Her entire body relaxed. Exhausted, she curled up against Robert, letting her eyelids flutter closed. “I love you,” left her lips as sleep pulled her into its comforted arms.
“AND I LOVE YOU.” ROBERT spoke the words knowing she never heard him as she’d fallen asleep. Her body relaxed against his, her breathing evened out, and little sounds almost resembling snoring came from her luscious lips. He hugged her closer. His little, proper wife snored. It was adorable, she would be appalled.
Never, ever had he experienced anything like what just happened. Their bodies fit perfectly, and when joined together he’d finally found out what being whole meant. Being with Mary made him complete. Solidified his body, mind, and soul. Not to mention what it did to his heart. His heart wanted to explode from his chest and join with hers. Two hearts beating and existing as one. He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve her, but he would spend the rest of his life worshiping and cherishing her. She was all that was pure and goodness. Freely giving her love to him, humbling him, and he would do anything to keep her happy and content.
His mind wandered to the conversation he’d had with both Bridgeton and Spencer about finances. He’d never let on that he’d invested his money wisely. Outrageous amounts of money paid to him for his private services making him perfectly capable of keeping Mary and any children they were blessed with comfortable. For a time now he’d been thinking about leaving the runners and going private. The hours he worked at his office and out on the streets of London would take him away from Mary from sunup and some days well past sundown. If he had the ability to pick his clients and the work he took on, he would be able to spend time with his wife. Time he wanted, needed, to be with her. Also, she’d never said the words, but he knew she worried about him. The scars on his body were testament to the dangers of his job. The last thing he wanted to do was cause his wife undo worry. As a private investigator he could choose not to take the dangerous assignments, leaving Mary to go about her day without worrying for his safety. As his mind spun with plans to undertake this adventure, it took over an hour to force his mind to shut down and he finally joined his wife in slumber.
Breakfast the following morning surprised Robert. All who attended their wedding sat around the large table in the formal dining room as the breakfast room wouldn’t accommodate everyone. They laughed and carried on animated conversations making his heart sore. Once again he wondered what he’d ever done to get so fortunate to marry into such a loving and happy family. Even though some at the table were not related by blood, they were a family through and through to the core. For someone, such as himself, who’d never had a family, it had his throat clogged with emotions, and he actually fought back tears in his eyes. It wouldn’t do to cry like a baby in front of Mary’s family.
But the love he witnessed firsthand was foreign to him, and he prayed he could live up to these people’s expectations. The very first time Wentworth hired him after the duchess was kidnapped, they’d sucked him into their fold. A single tear escaped down his cheek, and he used his cloth napkin to swipe it away, pretending he was wiping food off his face. Damn, but his heart was open and raw.
After Mary and Robert said their goodbyes, they traveled in a luxurious coach and four Spencer and Miranda gifted them for their wedding. Once again he fought not to embarrass himself by crying. The second, smaller vehicle that carried Mary’s maid and her trunks, Spencer let them borrow. Robert’s belongings filled but half a trunk. Besides the two drivers, they were escorted by two outriders and a groom. And, of course, Robert had enough weapons inside the carriage to hold off an army. He wasn’t about to take any chances after what happened the last time they took to the roads. The road to Sussex should go smoothly and not take very long.
Robert could barely wait to spend a fortnight in the country worshiping his new bride, who snuggled next to him fighting to stay awake. “Sleep my love. You deserve rest after last night.”
Her head rose up off his shoulder and she smiled shyly, her cheeks a nice becoming shade of pink. “I never dreamt it would be...so amazing.”
His hand ran over her hair and gently pressed her head back to his shoulder. “It was. But rest now because when we arrive in Sussex I may keep you up all night with my undivided attention worshiping your body.”
Mary’s chest rose and fell against his side. “I would like that.” She paused and when she spoke again her voice came to his ears soft and hesitant. “Is there a way for me to worship your body?”
Instant tightness in his buckskin breeches had him groaning. “Yes. Would you like me to teach you?”
“Yes, thank you.”
Thank you? She thanked him because he would teach her how to pleasure his body. How had he ever gotten so lucky.
At the first sight of The Rose Cottage, Robert swallowed. They’d said a small estate. If that rose colored, brick monstrosity, beautiful as it glowed in the sunset, was small, what did a medium or large estate resemble. And this belonged to his wife? He really did not deserve her.
“Oh, I haven’t been here since I was a young girl, but I always loved this cottage of Grandmother’s. With the rose and white brick, it always reminded me of a doll house. Not in size, of course, but in its feminine lines. I never imagined she would gift it to me for a wedding present. Gift it to us.”
“No, you said it right the first time. It is yours and will go to our children. If anything happens to me, I want you to have a home of your own. The house in London is rented and not ours. Although we could purchase or build one if you would like?”
She sat forward and looked questioning at him. “Build? Where on earth would we get such money? I know my dowry is large, but five thousand pounds only goes so far.”
“I made good investments in the past. We have plenty of money, even without yours. I would prefer if we didn’t touch a shilling of yours and kept it for our children.”
Mary’s face lit up, and her lips spread into a wide smile. “You, my husband, are full of surprises. I do love surprises. Does my brother know?”
“Yes.” No sooner were the words out of his mouth when the groomsman opened the door, let down the stairs, and Robert exited the coach, turning back to help his bride down. Tucking her arm around his they pivoted around and came face to face with the staff.
“Oh, dear,” Mary said. “I don’t know their names. It’s been ages since I’ve been here. I should have asked Grandmother.”
A small, middle-aged man stepped forward and bowed. Welcome home, Mr. and Mrs. Smythe. I’m Harrison, your butler. May I present the staff?”
Mary nudged his side. They were waiting for him. “Thank you for the welcome, Harrison. And yes, please make the introductions.”
Mary whispered into his ear. “Well done.”
Introductions complete, the housekeeper and butler’s wife, Harriot, led them to their chambers. Two large bedrooms, one masculine done in navy and burgundy, one done in shades of pink and cream and very feminine. Each having a dressing room and sitting area with a connecting door. More room than they needed. And one extra bed. Robert planned on spending every night in the same bed as his wife. His insides tightened. Did Mary want her own bed? Only one way to find out. After the housekeeper left them he said, “I hope you will sleep with me at night and not in your bed alone.” His heart constricted, and he held his breath awaiting Mary’s reply.
“I will be sleeping where you are.”
His lungs and heart easing, Robert approached her, wrapped his arms around her waist, and swung her around until they were both dizzy and breathless, and then he kissed her with all his love and desire.
Chapter Twelve
Placing her hand on her stomach, which rolled in silent protest from the rich food she’d consumed at dinner, made Elizabeth wonder what was happening to her. The past two weeks her stomach had been sensitive from morning to night. She fought queasiness as Sophie, her ladies’ maid, dressed up her hair for that evening’s masquerade ball held at the Earl and Countess of E
dgewater’s London residence.
Tonight’s ball didn’t have a theme, which disappointed her. She loved dressing up and taking on the costume’s persona. Tonight all she’d wear would be a mask. A beautiful violet mask to complement the trim on her light pink gown. Sequins and feathers decorated the mask that covered her face from her top lip up to her forehead and beyond with the feathers.
She didn’t understand why they traveled with their masks on, but Spencer explained there would be a crush of carriages as they neared the earl’s residence. Midnight would be the unveiling. Inside the coach, Spencer and Miranda sat facing forward and Elizabeth faced backward. Grandmother and Mother had stayed in the country after Mary and Robert’s wedding. Sighing, she closed her eyes and pictured the love radiating from Mary and Robert’s eyes during the ceremony and during the wedding breakfast.
Her stomach rolled. Did Edward look at her like that? Why was she questioning his love? Because they had been back from the country for a sennight and he’d yet to propose. They had agreed to wait until after Mary and Robert’s nuptials. They were done. What was keeping him? Elizabeth knew he’d asked her brother for permission and was granted it. Had he changed his mind and didn’t want to marry her anymore? How would she explain to the man she eventually took as a husband as to why she wasn’t a virgin? And then it hit her, hard and sudden as though she’d been wacked off the side of the head with a board. Could she be with child? The symptoms were there. Sickness, sensitive breasts, and having to relieve herself more than usual. Cramps as though her courses were coming but didn’t. Which, now that she thought about it, were overdo by, she counted in her head, ten days. She gasped and covered her mouth, eyes wide with fear.
Two sets of eyes focused on her. “Are you ill Elizabeth?” Miranda asked.
Gulping air, she hoped to be able to answer. If Amesbury didn’t marry her now with a special license what would happen to her? She’d be ruined and her baby scorned for life. She could deal with be ruined but not forcing her child to a life of misery and scorn from being born a bastard. Tears leaked out but fortunately were absorbed by the mask. “I’m well. I was just thinking of something I forgot to do.”
“You made quite a noise. Most unladylike as well,” Spencer teased. “Indeed, if you are unwell we can turn around and bring you home. Miranda and I don’t mind arriving more than fashionably late. Especially as no one will know who we are. I will extend apologies to Amesbury for your absence.”
Part of her wanted to run home, bury herself beneath her coverlet and cry herself to sleep. The other part wanted to see Edward. Tell him about the baby. Well, at least explain her worry about a baby, since nothing had been confirmed. “No. I’m looking forward to tonight. I love masquerade balls. Besides I hope to nudge Edward along with his proposal. I can’t think what he is waiting for.”
Clearing his throat, her brother looked at her through his plain black mask. “You know he will propose. Give him time. It’s not every day a man gives up his freedom and attaches himself to a ball and chain.”
“Funny, brother. Funny. Will this crush of carriages ever end?” Just then their door opened and the stairs lowered. “Good. I thought we’d never get out of this confined vehicle.” Her lungs needed air to hopefully settle the abundance of nerves that had taken over her body.”
Spencer held his hand out, first he helped his wife down then his sister. And then she found herself in a crush of people she didn’t recognize. She couldn’t even see Spencer or Miranda anymore. Indeed, she may as well walk around trying to ascertain who was who and find Edward. She stopped on one side of the dance floor, her eyes scanning the room for the man who held her heart when a tall gentleman approached. Why had she believed she liked masquerade balls? Gentlemen she didn’t know, or did she, could walk up to her and converse. Rules of etiquette were stretched thin on a night such as this.
“Good evening.” He bowed.
Not enough words spoken for her to recognize the voice. Although she did know the voice didn’t belong to anyone she knew well. “Good evening to you as well.” She dropped a curtsy.
“Would you care to dance?” Dark eyes, penetrating through wide holes of a full-face mask in black, ran blatantly up and down her body, eyes not the color of Edward’s. No. She didn’t like masquerades anymore. How could this man look at her as though he wanted to eat her up? Act as if they were familiar with each other. There was nothing about him to think they’d ever met. Which brought to mind, could one be rude while hidden behind a mask and refuse an offer to dance? Although, something appeared familiar about his eyes.
“I can read the look in your eyes.” He held out his gloved hand. “It is just a dance. I promise not to ravish you on the floor in plain sight of all the attendees. I believe the mask is making you uneasy. I promise I’m not a libertine but a gentleman inside and out.”
Elizabeth’s mouth opened to scold him for his shocking words, but nothing but a silent, “Oh,” exited. Before the shock left her, he’d placed her hand on his forearm and led her onto the crowded dance floor. Figured a waltz would play, and she found herself held far too close. Society rules were broken on the dance floor as well tonight. Her eyes moved around from couple to couple. Was there anyone adhering to etiquette or society rules attending? How could Spencer have left her alone to her own devices once they arrived? Left her in a cage, locked with a lion ready to devour her. Trembles took over each and every nerve in her body, making it difficult to keep up with the steps.
“Relax, I promise not to bite you or ravish you, whatever it is your mind is conjuring up.” He exhaled. “I thought perhaps you could find your Lord Amesbury from the dance floor.” His full lips turned up into a crooked grin baring somewhat straight white teeth. “I presume that is what you were doing standing on the side, your head pivoting back and forth until I thought it would roll off your shoulders.”
“Do I know you?” Chills ran up and down her spine, radiating out from where his hand splayed against the small of her back. “Please remove your hand from my back and put it where it belongs.”
Another grin and his black eyes twinkled. “Apologies, my dear.” Leisurely he moved his hand to her waist. “I seldom dance—I’d forgotten where to place my hand.”
“Rubbish.” Elizabeth wasn’t one to be intimidated, but he’d managed it the moment he’d approached her, but no more. She wouldn’t cower like an innocent debutant. Which of course, she wasn’t. There was a time when she used to shock people with what she said. He was playing games with her, like she used to do. “I believe you knew exactly what you were doing...ah...Mr....My Lord...heaven forbid...Your Grace.”
Leaning down he whispered into her ear and she fought the urge to move away. “I can be whomever your heart desires.”
“Stop it. I refuse to play your games. Since you obviously know who I am, I deserve the courtesy of knowing who you are.”
A deep chuckle answered her. “Look around my dear. People love to be incognito. I’m no different. It is not my fault I recognized you when you arrived.”
“Is there a reason you sought me out?” She may as well come right out and ask him. If he could be rude and play games so could she.
“As a matter of fact there is. For two completely different reasons.” He paused, probably for suspense. “A Lady Penelope Seabrook. Although Lady is a bit of a stretch considering her origins.”
Elizabeth glared at him and growled. Yes, growled. “Don’t you dare disrespect her.”
The stranger nodded his head. “Apologies. I meant no disrespect, just stating the facts as I see them. Please tell me she is attending this evening?”
He surprised her. What on earth did he want with Penelope? Elizabeth hadn’t seen the duke and duchess or Penelope, although she’d heard they would be in attendance. “I heard she would be attending with her brother, the duke and his duchess, but I haven’t seen them. What, pray tell do you want with Lady Penelope?”
The man had the audacity to laugh, deep and throat
y. “That is none of your concern, my dear sweet lady. Next question. If I’m not mistaken your sister is married to a Mr. Smythe.”
Elizabeth’s head snapped up and looked directly into his dark eyes. “Who are you and what do you want with my brother-in-law? Are you trying to cause trouble for them?”
“Easy, Miss Spencer.” He looked around. “Keep your voice down. I may have a job for him. He’s been hired by your brother before, as well at Wentworth and Northborough. I’m trying to ascertain how loyal and trustworthy he is.”
“Loyal.” Lowering her voice, and ignoring the prickles up her spine, she leaned closer to this stranger. “There is no more loyal gentleman in all of England. Loyal to the Crown and his clients. Which makes me wonder why you sought me out. Why not speak to my brother, the duke, or the earl?”
“Bloody hell,” he said, and for the first time he sounded exasperated. “Can’t recognize any of them. You were the first person I identified.”
“I’m still confused as to why you noticed me. I don’t know you. Nothing about you is familiar.”
“Ah, saved by the orchestra, my dear. May I escort you back to your corner of the ballroom? Actually,” he grinned, “I see your marquess. I’ll delivery you to him.”
At the corner of the ballroom, the stranger bowed. “You will find him in the dark amongst the potted palms and pillars. Where couples go for liaisons.” Was that pity she glimpsed in his dark eyes?
Chills once again climbed up her spine. What on earth would Edward be doing lurking in the shadows. Where couples, married and unmarried, went to steal kisses or more. Now her stomach churned and she swallowed, trying to keep her supper down. Standing on the edge of the dimly lit area, she squinted into the dark, listening to the murmuring voices, hoping to recognize Edward’s.
A lady’s voice giggling caught her attention, then her sickly sweet voice spoke. “Come now Lord A., we miss you at the Red Poppy. It’s been an age since you graced us with your presence. I miss our trysts. We can duck into one of the rooms off this hall, and I’ll toss up my skirts like I used to. Remember how you loved to fuck me, feast on me.”
The Spencer Sisters Forbidden Loves and Broken Hearts Page 12
