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A Matter of Choice

Page 12

by Laura Landon


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  Allison had no idea it would be like this. She thought she might die if he continued. Was certain she would die if he stopped.

  He kissed her again, and even though she tried to lie still like Mary had warned her to, she couldn’t.

  “Now we will make love,” he whispered against her neck and began the movement she’d craved without knowing she craved it.

  The expression on his face was strained, his eyes as black as midnight, the creases at his forehead deep, giving him such a concentrated look.

  She lifted her hands and let her fingers run up and down his arms. He was beautiful. As perfect as anyone God had ever made. And he was all male. The muscles across his shoulders rippled beneath her touch, the hair on his chest coarse, yet soft, the skin at his waist and lower firm and taut.

  This was not at all like she’d imagined. She could not think, could not concentrate on anything except what he was doing to her. How could Phoebe think of a new dress or bonnet? How could she think of anything except the riot of wild emotions raging through her? How could she do anything but cling to the man carrying her to the stars and beyond and race along with him? How…? Why…? Oh…

  “Oh…!”

  “Yes!”

  “Joshua!” she cried as her body trembled then shattered like a fireball that rocketed through the starlit sky. She soared through the heavens like an exploding comet, surging from darkness into blinding sunlight. With arms open wide, she plummeted toward earth, leaving behind the trailing glow of a falling star.

  He followed behind her.

  He collapsed against her, his wonderfully heavy weight pressing her deep into the mattress. His harsh, ragged breathing brushed hot against her flesh, the thundering of his heart pounding against her breast, his muscled body a cocoon surrounding her, protecting her, holding her safe. She had never felt so perfect, so complete.

  For several long minutes he lay there, not moving. She let her fingers trail along his arms, across his shoulders, and down his back. His flesh was covered with a light sheen of perspiration.

  How could her sisters have said the things they had? Given her the warnings they had? What she’d shared with her husband had been wonderful. Beautiful. Amazing.

  A shiver raced up and down her spine. Perhaps she’d done something wrong. What if this was not the way a proper lady acted? What if her behavior had shocked him? What if she’d let him do things to her a respectable lady would never have allowed? A cold chill caused her to tremble.

  She’d done none of the things her sisters had told her to do. She hadn’t kept her eyes closed. She hadn’t thought of a new gown or bonnet. She hadn’t lain still until it was over, but had touched him, and kissed him, and… What if she’d behaved no better than a common trollop? Suddenly she had to know.

  “Are you all right?” he asked, still nestled against her. His breathing was calmer than before, but not much.

  “Yes. Are you?”

  He laughed, his breath warm against the side of her neck. “I’m not sure yet.”

  “May I ask you something?”

  “Yes.” He tried to lift his head.

  Allison held up her hand to stop him. “Please, I don’t want you to look at me.”

  “Very well.” He kept his head nestled in the crook of her shoulder, but shifted his weight off her.

  “Is it always like this, my lord?”

  She felt him stiffen. “I’m afraid you’ll have to explain.” There was a wariness in his voice. “Like what?”

  She felt her cheeks turn hot. “Please, don’t be angry with me.”

  He lifted his head but she was not fast enough nor strong enough to stop him.

  “I’m not angry,” he said, but the frown on his forehead indicated otherwise.

  “Very well. I would like to know if this is the way it always is.”

  “Didn’t you like it?”

  She turned her gaze away from him. “That is not the point.”

  “Then what is?”

  “I need to know if it is this way with the other women with whom you’ve slept.”

  “You would like to compare notes?”

  “No. Not that. I just want to know if you found me…”

  She heard a chuckle and felt him smile. “What are my choices, Allison? Unbelievable? Fantastic? Incomparable? Remarka—“

  “No! Wanton. Did you think me wanton?”

  He lifted himself up and looked down on her. “What?”

  His eyes seemed darker than usual and his gaze locked with hers as if he found her inquiry an inappropriate question to ask.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, feeling the need to apologize, “but I need to know.”

  He placed his finger beneath her chin and kept her from looking away from him. Her eyes filled with tears the moment she looked at him. Blast! This was not the way she wanted to react at all. She did not want to cry, not when what they’d shared had been so wonderful, yet tears threatened to spill from her eyes.

  “Why would you think your behavior wanton?”

  She clenched her hands in the covers and squeezed. “I didn’t do any of the things they told me to do. I didn’t keep my eyes closed, and didn’t lie still. I didn’t—“

  “Hush.” He placed his index finger over her lips. “How dare they,” he whispered, then turned with her in his arms. He wrapped her in his arms and held her. “I do not think you wanton. I think you are nearly the most perfect lover imaginable. If any of your sisters would be half so perfect, their husbands wouldn’t have to take their pleasures in another woman’s arms.”

  “You do not think I was too…forward?”

  “Quite the opposite. In time you will learn not to be nearly so shy and reserved.”

  She looked at him in surprise, then sighed in relief when he laughed. “Perhaps then we could practice again so I improve?”

  “Perhaps,” he whispered as his mouth came down on hers.

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  She opened her eyes to the bright sunshine streaming through slits in the draperies at the windows. She knew it was later than she usually woke, yet couldn’t remember why she’d slept so long. Why she should still feel so tired. With a delicate yawn, she rolled onto her back and stretched languorously, then opened her eyes as a strange soreness pulsed through her.

  “Good morning, sleepy head,” he said from the chair beside the mirrored table. He was already dressed in a fresh white linen shirt and buff-colored breeches, and was putting on his boots. His hair was combed, his face clean-shaven, and when he stood, her heart gave a lurch. He was without a doubt the most handsome man she’d ever seen. And he was her husband.

  “Good morning,” she said shyly, pulling the covers up under her chin. He smiled.

  With a pleased look on his face, he walked to the bed and kissed her lightly on the lips. “Are you all right?”

  She lowered her gaze and nodded, but couldn’t keep her cheeks from burning. “I’m fine.”

  “Good.” He sat on the edge of the bed. “Are you ready to rise?”

  “Yes. I usually don’t lie abed this long. I must have been…” She couldn’t finish.

  “Yes,” he said with an open grin. “I’m sure you were very tired.”

  He brushed a strand of hair from her cheek and wrapped his fingers around the back of her neck. “You are beautiful in the morning, with sleep still on your face and the look of love in your eyes. I will enjoy getting used to seeing you like this.”

  She felt herself blush again but she lifted her face to accept his kiss. His lips were warm and firm, and when he kissed her, a fire ignited deep in her belly.

  “I have to go.” He walked to the door. “I’ve ordered hot water sent up for your bath, and Emma is waiting outside with some hot chocolate. When you’re ready, come down. Cook has prepared a breakfast fit for a regiment of starving men. Do you think you’ll be able to ride in a carriage? I’d like to leave for Graystone Manor before lunch. If you’re able.”

  “I’m able,�
�� she said, feeling her cheeks warm again.

  “Good.” He turned to open the door.

  “Joshua?”

  “Yes?” He turned back to her.

  “Thank you.”

  He lifted his brows in question.

  “For everything.”

  He bowed graciously and opened the door. He stepped back to let Emma enter and stopped her before she got into the room. “Take care of your mistress, and don’t disturb anything.” He cast a look to the bed.

  “Very well, my lord.”

  He closed the door behind him and left.

  “What did Lord Montfort mean by that, Emma?” she asked when Emma set down her tray of hot chocolate.

  “Never you mind, mistress. The master knows what he’s about. Now, let’s get you bathed and dressed proper so you can break your fast.”

  Allison scooted to the edge of the bed and stood, then winced at her soreness. She turned around to let Emma help her into a robe and froze. Blood stained the center of the sheets where she’d lain, her blood. Proof of her innocence. She slipped her arms into the sleeves of her robe, then reached out to throw the covers over the stain.

  “Leave it, my lady.” Emma turned her away. “There’s a nice warm bath waiting for you in the next room.”

  She bathed and dressed, then went down the stairs almost at a run. Joshua waited for her in the small dining room. Along with David and a man she’d never seen. She came to a halt when she saw them.

  “Good morning, Allison,” David said, as the three men rose from the table. Joshua walked to her and escorted her to a chair.

  “Good morning, David,” she said, barely able to meet his gaze. She prayed that what she’d done last night didn’t show on her face, but knew it must. She felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment. “Is something wrong that you’re here so early?”

  “No. Everything’s fine.”

  She looked over to the man she did not know.

  “Allow me to introduce Mr. Franklin Bower, Allison. Mr. Bower, my sister, the Marchioness of Montfort.”

  “My lady.” Mr. Bower bowed formally.

  “Mr. Bower is our family solicitor, Allison. He has come to verify that…” David stopped, stumbling over his words. “He’s come to certify that…” He stopped again and cleared his throat.

  “Allison,” Joshua said, turning her in his arms so she faced him. “Mr. Bower has come to legally verify that our marriage was consummated last night.”

  Her eyes widened and she shook her head.

  “It’s all right,” Joshua said, stepping closer to her. “It’s as much for my protection as it is for yours. The size of your dowry makes it mandatory. Carlton,” he said, calling the butler. “Please take Mr. Bower upstairs. Emma is waiting for him.”

  “Yes, my lord.” The butler ushered the solicitor from the room.

  “How could you?” she said, turning on David. “How could you embarrass us like that?”

  “Don’t, Allison.” Joshua tightened his hand around her waist. “It’s no one’s fault. Our marriage is, after all, a business arrangement. It must be handled as such.”

  Allison had never heard any colder words in her life. Or any truer. Her marriage was a business arrangement and she would do well to remember that. Her heart would do well to remember it. But that’s not what last night had been. What she had given Joshua and he had given her had nothing to do with a business arrangement.

  She stood straight and tall until Mr. Bower returned. With a curt nod of his head that indicated both he and the law were satisfied that her marriage had been consummated, he turned and left the room. David turned to follow.

  “I’m sorry, Allie,” he said from the doorway, then left.

  She stood without moving for a long minute, then Joshua placed his hands on her shoulders and whispered in her ear. “Come, my lady, let’s eat so we can be on our way. I’m very anxious for you to see your new home.”

  She looked at his face and felt the pressure in her chest weigh heavier. “Is our marriage nothing more than a business arrangement to you?”

  He remained ominously quiet. The pain surrounding her heart intensified.

  “Did what we shared last night mean nothing more than the fulfillment of an obligation, a legal requirement to be met?” She prayed it had not meant so little to him. “Did it?”

  His dark, thick brows arched just enough to be menacing while his unreadable glare focused on her. “I was not the one who insisted the consummation of our marriage be verified. That was a stipulation set down by your brother. Just as I was not the one who insisted that our marriage be confined by an agreement demanding my fidelity instead of building a marriage based on trust. You were. I agreed to live by the strictures you have demanded, and I intend to keep my word. What develops between us will have to overcome the obstacles you placed in our way.”

  They stared at each other for a long moment, then she watched as his hard, angry look softened. “Come.” He held out his hand. “Our food is getting cold.”

  She hesitated, then put her trembling hand in his and followed him. As she always intended to do. She could do little else. But now she understood a harsh fact she wished would have forever remained a mystery to her.

  She would never know for sure if he remained faithful to her because he cared for her, or because of the agreement she’d forced him to sign.

  Chapter 12

  It was midday when they reached Graystone Manor. For the past hour, Joshua had grown more agitated. He frequently glanced out the window as if searching for landmarks to tell him how much farther they had to go, then leaned back against the seat and waited. It was as if they wouldn’t arrive soon enough.

  Finally the carriage slowed, then turned into the long, tree-lined lane. He moved from where he sat across from her, to right beside her. She felt his excitement. Saw it in the expression on his face. He reached over and twined his fingers with hers as if he needed to be connected to her when she saw Graystone for the first time. An amazing warmth raced through her.

  “These trees were planted by my great grandparents.” He leaned in front of her to point out the window. “The story has it that they planted the first tree on their wedding day, then on every anniversary of their wedding. There are fifty four trees that line the drive.”

  Allison followed his gaze and looked at the dense-leafed trees. “What are they?”

  “They’re Linden trees. They’re known for their shade. Every fall the colors are unbelievable, and in the spring their thick, green leaves return to shade the lane.”

  “They’re beautiful. It’s as if they’re welcoming us.”

  He smiled. “When I was young, I used to think their long, sturdy branches were open arms spread wide to greet me each time I came here.”

  “Was that often?”

  “Whenever Mother needed to get away from Father. More often as I got older. Father hated it because Graystone Manor was Mother’s and he couldn’t touch any part of it.” He paused. “We were safe from him here.”

  She lifted her gaze to him. “What a strange thing to say.”

  He turned away from her, but not before she caught the expression in his eyes. His gaze indicated he’d told her some intimate detail he hadn’t intended to reveal.

  “Has your father always been so difficult?”

  “Yes. He was always hard and cruel and filled with anger and hatred. But he’s become worse since Philip’s death. Intolerant toward anyone who doesn’t meet his standards.”

  “And did you meet his standards?”

  “Only Philip met his standards. He doted on him. Gave him every advantage. He was to be the next Duke of Ashbury.”

  She looked at the firm set to his features, the closed look on his face. She felt sorry for the lonely, frightened little boy he must have been. “Were there any happy times in your childhood?”

  He turned toward her and the corners of his mouth lifted. “The times I spent here were happy.” He glanced away from her then point
ed. “Look out the window.”

  She leaned forward and followed to where he pointed. The breath caught in her throat. Ahead of her was the most magnificent home she had ever seen.

  Graystone Manor resembled a castle as much as it did a country home, the structure so large she could barely see from one end to the other. The house was divided into three sections. The center third jutted out to make an impressive entrance.

  Most remarkable, though, were the massive windows. The entire front of the house seemed more windows than wall, windows that reached from ceiling to floor on all three levels. She didn’t need to step foot inside to know the house would be a bright and happy home.

  The carriage rolled up the graveled drive beneath the beautiful Linden trees and stopped at the entrance. Even though a small army of maroon-liveried servants rushed forward, Joshua didn’t wait for a footman to help them. He reached across to open the door himself. He was like an exuberant child escaping his schoolroom.

  He jumped to the ground and pulled down the steps for her. “Welcome home, my lady.” He held out his hand to help her.

  She stepped out and let her gaze take in her surroundings. The house was magnificent, spacious and imposing. Yet, for all its grandeur, there was something warm and inviting about the design.

  The home was built of large gray stones, no doubt the reason for its name, and stood proudly on a grassy knoll. Everything about it added to its appeal.

  Seven curved steps led to the open doorway, and in the front, tall mullioned windows stretched from floor to ceiling. Seven gabled ballustrades curved from the rooms on the third floor at either side of the house giving the manor a special flavor. Undoubtedly, these were the bedrooms. She could imagine herself standing on one of the balconies surveying the elegant gardens with Joshua at her side.

  “Allow me, my lady.” Her husband took her hand and led her up the stone steps then through the open doorway. She stopped.

 

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