by Cheryl Bolen
She spoke gently. "Never an ogre, Charles. You are almost always all that is kind. I was so very proud of you yesterday when you were the only man who spoke with courtesy to poor Mr. Hogart."
"What manner of host would I be to ignore a guest in my own home?"
"You obviously did not learn your manners from your father."
He failed to take her bait. "You said I was almost always kind. Have I hurt you, my dear?"
"I daresay I richly deserved your scathing words at Lord Wentworth's the other night, but they wounded excessively."
He remembered reminding her theirs was no love match, telling her to appear faithful. His own foolish anger had caused him to hurt her when, in truth, she had not earned such cruel rebuke. Her only transgression was her total innocence. How innocent she looked now with the early morning light dancing in her dark locks. A fullness expanded in his chest as he thought of her gentle voice and compassion toward the unfortunate Mr. Hogart. She seemed almost childlike in her purity. How it tugged at his heart to know he had caused her pain.
Yet, he had resolved to resist her charms. He had to know who the real Anna was.
That afternoon Morgie showed up in the Haverstock drawing room, nervously twirling his hat in his hands while begging the marchioness and Lydia to accompany him for the afternoon procession through Hyde Park.
Anna bestowed a grateful smile on him and silently thanked her absent husband for encouraging his friend to escort her. "Oh, Morgie, how very kind of you to take pity on Charles' neglected wife," Anna said. "I cannot speak for Lydia, but I assure you a ride in the park would be most welcome to me."
Morgie's eyes met Lydia's.
"I thank you for including me," Lydia told him as the two women went to get their bonnets.
The sisters sat on either side of Morgie as he took the ribbons. When they left Half Moon Street, Lydia spoke to Anna. "I must warn you Mama has decided to hold a dinner."
"I am glad she will leave her room," Anna said.
"But it's no longer her place to be hostess at Haverstock House," Lydia protested. "You're the marchioness now."
"I am hardly ready to fill your mother's shoes," Anna said. "If it's her desire to introduce me to her friends I cannot fault that."
"I am sure all of her acquaintances will be there," Lydia said. "And you, too, Morgie."
"Depend upon it," he mumbled. "Promise to be my partner at whist, Lady Lydia." He shook his head. "Never saw a woman who understood the game as you do. Like a man."
"Perhaps that is because you and Charles always treated me as one of the fellows," Lydia said.
A smile curled his lip. "Remember when you were the only girl we allowed in our fort that summer?"
Lydia tossed her head back and laughed. "I suspect, Morgie, you were repaying me for hooking your worm when we went fishing."
He shuddered as he directed his phaeton to Hyde Park. "Cannot abide those slimy things. Most fortunate to have had you."
"Speaking of fortunate," Lydia said, her eyes sparkling with delight, "have you seen my horse?"
"Was with Haverstock when he bid on her at Tatt's, and uncommon bidding it was, too. Never in all my days saw a beast go for four-hundred guineas."
"Four-hundred guineas!" Lydia clutched her hand to her ample breast. "Why, that's a fortune!"
"Your brother can now afford it."
Anna was thankful he did not elaborate on her wealth.
"Would you like to ride her sometime?" Lydia offered Morgie.
"I should say! That would be jolly good."
"Charles and I ride every morning just after dawn."
He winced. "Too bloody early for me."
"Why, Morgie, I thought you'd be settling down now that Charles has married," Lydia said.
"You know very well, your brother started settling down four years ago. All he thinks of is work."
When Morgie returned his passengers to Haverstock House, Anna asked him, "Is your mind quite made up that you will not ride with us in the morning?"
"Quite sure," he said emphatically. "An afternoon ride is one thing, but rousing myself from slumber to ride in the morning mist is not my idea of pleasure."
"If you would but try it, I am sure you would like it," Lydia said.
Morgie wrinkled his nose and frowned.
Chapter 14
In the absence of her husband's company, Anna filled the next several days in much the same way. She accompanied Haverstock and Lydia on morning rides in the park. She and Colette worked on establishing their sewing school. And at the fashionable afternoon hour, Morgie would collect her and Lydia for the procession through Hyde Park.
The nights, too, were much the same. Balls and routs with her beaming husband at her side. But in the confines of their home, he ignored her and left her to sleep alone.
As the night of the dowager's fete approached, the house throbbed with preparations. Bouquets of fresh flowers rose from vases everywhere, silver was polished, hundreds of candles jammed into tiers of crystal chandeliers. The dowager roused early from her chamber each day, dressed in colorful morning gowns, and personally supervised all the preparations. She spent days composing her select guest list, for which she neither solicited nor accepted recommendations. She even ventured a trip in the barouche to Madame Devreaux's and commissioned herself a lilac gown.
Haverstock was not so busy he neglected to notice his mother's ministrations. On the morning before the dinner, he stayed behind in the breakfast room to have a private word with her. "It's good to see you have emerged from your chamber and embraced tomorrow's party," he began.
She smiled.
"However, I cannot but feel you are treading on the marchioness's domain."
The smile drained from her face, replaced by a cold stare. "I merely want to assure your wife makes the right contacts."
"I appreciate that, and know Anna lacks the breadth of your acquaintances. But I must remind you this is her home. I beg that you allow her to take her proper place at the table tomorrow night."
"How could I not when you have so plainly reminded me that my old seat is now Anna's?" she challenged.
"Very good," he said through compressed lips. "While you are remembering that, try to remember to treat my wife as if you thought her the crowning jewel in our family coronet."
"Really, Charles, that is carrying it too far."
"I think not. She is the wife I have chosen. I am happy with her, and if you cannot be agreeable to the situation, you can find somewhere else to live.
"That horrible woman is going to drive me from my home – from my own son's affections."
"She is doing no such thing, and she is not a horrible woman." Kicking back his chair, he rose swiftly, his face red with anger, and he pointed a finger at his mother. "Not one more word against her. Ever."
As Anna became more experienced sitting a horse, Haverstock insisted she ride the trails with him and Lydia, leaving no opportunity for a private word with Jimmy. She particularly wanted to talk with him before her noon meeting with Sir Henry at Hookam's. The opportunity came when Haverstock and Lydia began to argue over the merits of a pair of horses who were to run against each other at Newmarket that day.
"I shall meet you at the stables after breakfast," Anna whispered to Jimmy, who nodded.
After breakfast she found Jimmy outside the mews, and he told her Haverstock had neither been followed nor met with anyone who appeared suspicious. "But if anyone ever threatens Lord Haverstock, ye 'ave my word on it, they'll 'ave to get by me first."
"You're a dear," Anna said sincerely as she stood on her toes to kiss his cheek.
Within two hours Anna was strolling through the book-crammed aisles of Hookam's where she saw Sir Henry, taller than everyone else, perusing a thick volume in the corner that featured books in Latin.
She was pleased he had selected that section because no one else was there. Brushing past him, she whispered, "I have learned nothing."
He turned and followed her,
grabbing her arm tightly. "It displeases me excessively that you've been so useless. We'd have been better off to have taken the fifty-thousand pounds."
"Unhand me," she said through gritted teeth, looking around to make sure no one was watching. "I am doing all I can. You forget Charles and I were not at all acquainted when we married. It takes time to build trust."
"How many more will have to die while you build trust?"
"I refuse to take the blame for the casualties of this dreadful war." She glared at him before turning on her heel and stalking off.
Following the meeting with his mother, Haverstock angrily threw off his riding clothes and paced to the window of his dressing room where he beheld a curious sight. Anna was walking to the mews. Didn't the fool woman know a marchioness did not set foot near a stable? Jimmy came out and a few words passed between him and Anna, then Anna stood on her toes, gave the groom a peck on the cheek and turned to walk back to the house.
Haverstock felt as if he had been kicked in the heart. Until this moment, he had always liked Jimmy. The groom had been in Haverstock service since he was a wee lad. Now he had grown into a fine looking young man. He must be eighteen or nineteen. Anna's age.
God in heaven, surely Anna was not – It was too preposterous to contemplate. There must be some reasonable explanation.
Once again, Haverstock pondered the enigma that was his wife. He longed to know which of her personas was the true Anna. But more than anything, he experienced a strange longing to be the object of her complete devotion. And for the first time since he had married her, he felt completely bereft.
* * *
"Did you see my wife this afternoon?" Haverstock asked Morgie, who sat across the table from him at White's that evening.
"I did, and I seem to recall her telling me you had a fete to attend tonight." He raised a quizzing brow at his old friend.
Haverstock lifted a glass of brandy and drank. "These events grow tedious. I have decided to spend my evening with you, old chap, and get thoroughly foxed."
"Haven't seen you in your cups for the past decade."
"It's this blasted marriage. A smart man you are to stay single."
"Why is it when I see you with Lady Haverstock I have the distinct feeling you're king of the mountain?" Morgie said wistfully. "Makes my own existence seem utterly idle."
"That's the thing about a wife. They can bring you the most complete joy one moment and sink you to utter despair another."
"Can't picture Anna bringing anyone despair. Much too sweet."
"I saw her stand on her toes and plant a kiss on her groom's cheek."
Morgie began to laugh. "So that's what's got you down! You have little knowledge of your wife's character if you don't know of her affectionate nature. Why she's pecked me on the cheek any number of times for what she calls my kindnesses to her. Always she stands on her toes and places a chaste kiss on the cheek."
Haverstock could not deny Anna's affectionate manner. Only with him, her kisses had been more than a brush of lips across a cheek. He seared even now remembering the taste of her sweet mouth open under his. God in heaven, it had been so long since he'd held her in his arms. An intense, physical aching strummed throughout his body.
"Somehow I do not find it reassuring to know my wife goes around kissing all manner of men."
"Be assured her ladyship has eyes for no one but you. Always, it's Charles this, and Charles that. Poor Charles, he works too hard. She's positively besotted over you. Lydia teases her all the time about her devotion to you."
My God, Haverstock thought, was she going to be exonerated yet again? Tonight he had determined to make her miserable for being so outrageous a flirt. But he was once more remorseful.
When her husband did not come home at the usual hour, Anna grew alarmed. She and her sisters dressed for the evening's fete, and still Haverstock did not show. Anna urged her sisters to go on without her. She could not leave until she knew if her husband was all right.
Dressed in a gown of golden and lavender threads, she paced her chamber, surprised she had not worn a hole in the floral carpeting in front of the window. Images of her husband injured or in pain knotted her stomach so tightly so thought she would cry.
At eleven o'clock and still no word from him, she threw on a cloak and left the house, making her way to the dimly lit mews. She entered through a creaking door and began to mount a rickety staircase, softly calling Jimmy's name.
The strapping lad met her on the stairway. "Is something amiss, me lady?" he asked, concern in his voice.
"Oh, yes. I am excessively worried about my husband," she said as she retraced her steps, with Jimmy following her. "He has not come home, nor sent word. I know something has happened to him," she said in a shaking voice.
"What can I do?"
"I would like you to make inquiries. You know where his friend Mr. Morgan lives?"
Jimmy nodded.
"And his lordship is a member of White's on St. James, though he seldom goes there." She closed her eyes and sighed. "If you find him, and he's all right, please protect him."
"Me word on it." He began to saddle a horse.
Anna returned to her lonely room, having sent her maid to bed hours earlier. She languidly removed her cloak and gown and slipped into a sleeping shift with no thought of sleep. She continued to nervously pace the floor, saying every prayer she had ever learned.
It was unlike Haverstock not to have sent word had something prevented him from coming home. Therefore, she grew convinced he had been injured. She became sick with fear. In spite of all the reasons she should dislike him, she could not. She had come to need him as she needed air to breathe. Whatever evil deeds he did, she would love him.
There. She had finally admitted it. I love my husband. Despite that he was a traitor.
Several hours later, she heard a light footfall along the hallway and ran to open the door.
"Oh, thank God," she whispered.
Haverstock came to stop in front of Anna's door. "For what are you thanking the good Lord for, my dear?" His eyes swept over Anna from her worried face to the tips of her toes.
"You are all right."
"Quite, and why may I ask was Jimmy waiting outside White's?"
She thrust out her chin. "I sent him to look for you. I was excessively worried about you."
"You seem uncommonly close to the groom," Haverstock said with disapproval.
"He is loyal to you."
Haverstock reached to stroke her pale cheek. "And you?"
Tears glistened in her eyes. "You need ask?"
Drawn into the depths of her haunting eyes, Haverstock moved closer to Anna, backing her into the room and softly closing the door behind them. He gathered her into the circle of his arms and held her close. "I've been such a brute."
"No you ha-a-a-v" she began to protest. "Well, actually, you have. Could you not have sent round a note tonight?"
His hands stroked her back. "I fear you are shackled to rather a beast."
Anna lifted her head. "How can two people be shackled who are never alone with each other?" she said breathlessly.
"I plan to remedy that tonight, with my lady's permission," he said throatily.
In silent answer, she linked her arms around him and rested her face against his rock-solid chest.
"God in heaven, it's been too long," he uttered softly, drawing her even closer.
She smelled the brandy on his breath and knew by the odd glint in his eye and the unevenness of his words, he was in his cups. It was only the liquor that made him want her, but she did not care. She had yearned for weeks for the opportunity to feel his hands move possessively over her, to melt their bodies together in the most intimate blending and – more than anything – to show him the depths of this intensely physical love she held for him.
His lips came down on hers, softly at first, then nearly bruising from his frenzied hunger. Her own breath was as labored as his, her kisses wet and open. For weeks, she ha
d planned this union and how she was going to abandon all modesty to tenderly offer herself as Charles' instrument of pleasure. But now that the craved meeting was occurring, she had no control over her body. His every touch rendered her subservient to her own betraying need. She could only moan, and tremble and arch against him in a numbing, mindless effort to be thoroughly possessed by her dark giant.
He lifted her, scooping her into his arms as he crossed her chamber and tenderly laid her on the bed. Leaving the candle glowing, he slowly and agonizingly removed her clothing until she lay before him naked, his breath catching as his eyes combed her ivory flesh.
Drawn by the simmering depths of his black eyes, Anna's unwavering gaze united with his as her deft hands reverently stroked the hardness between his legs. She was gladdened by the flicker of pleasure that passed over his face just before his head lowered to her breasts and took one into the warmth of his mouth.
Her hand slipped beneath his breeches so she could feel the length of him. He called out her name and freed himself of the clothes that separated their two willing bodies.
Lying beside her on the satin spread, he drew her into his flesh and held her close. "Oh, my Anna," he whispered breathlessly.
She loved the sound of his words. My Anna. If only she could truly belong to him. She lifted her lips to his. He kissed her thoroughly, his hands gliding over her and coming at last to her wet, burning core. She arched and trembled and thought she would go mad with this insatiable need. So much for her plan to seduce her husband. She knew not how long it was before he stretched himself over her and came into her fully, for one action was an extension of another, and all spiraled in an endless whirl of intoxicating pleasure in her foggy mind.
Even when their passion was spent, their wet, sated bodies intertwined and their hearts beat together as one.
Wrapped in each other's arms, they both fell into a deep slumber.
The sun was high in the sky, its warmth penetrating Anna's room when Haverstock awoke the next day. At first he did not remember where he was, but when the act of lifting his head brought great pain, he remembered the liquor. And much more. All his resolve to resist Anna had vanished like the winter snows in the face of her extraordinarily provocative presence. He shuddered even now remembering the feel of her writhing beneath him. For some inexorable reason, he thought of Morgie's words. With Anna he was king of the mountain. Oh, yes. No woman had ever made him feel as he did when he was with Anna. Not just king of the mountain. King of the world.
