The love words warmed her heart, and she knew she would keep the note so that she could read it again when doubts assailed her.
When Thomas returned from Parliament that evening, he brought her flowers. “These daffodils, grown in a hothouse, are to remind you of the riverside garden at Shugborough. They are a promise of spring.”
When she thanked him, his eyes told her how attractive he found her. “Come with me to the kitchen. I want to cook for you.”
“A clever ploy! You know I cannot resist food.” He knows my appetite has been nonexistent lately. She followed him, determined to eat something.
He picked her up and sat her on the wooden chopping block. “What do you fancy?”
“Something spicy, perhaps with curry. I think Clara bought prawns today.”
He returned from the larder with two small enamel pails. “Scallops too—we’ll have both.” He put rice on to steam, while he cleaned the shellfish, and cut up shallots, mushrooms, gingerroot, and cilantro. He melted a generous amount of butter in a pan, threw in the prawns, scallops, and the other ingredients, sprinkled on a generous amount of spicy curry, and sautéed everything until it was bubbling, golden, and fragrant. He served it over the rice, brought it to the chopping block, and hopped up beside her.
“This smells good enough to eat.”
“It’s sinfully good. Take care, lest it lure you into temptation.”
“Thank you for the warning,” she said lightly.
Hours later, when they retired, Harry expected Thomas to make advances, but after he built up the fire, he invited her to join him in a game of Fox and Geese. It was played on a checkerboard; the fox tried to eat the geese, while the player with the geese tried to trap the fox. Thomas won easily, and when she challenged him to a rematch, she was gratified to beat him. Then she suspected he’d let her win on purpose. She decided not to accuse him. Perhaps he was merely being gallant.
When she undressed, she tried not to think about the times he had eagerly helped her, and when she lay beside him in bed, she made sure there was a space between them. She wasn’t yet ready to forgive him, though she was pleased at the special attention he had shown that day. When he kissed her hair and bade her good night, she didn’t know if she was relieved or disappointed.
Bringing her breakfast in bed and penning her love notes became a ritual. On a warm day at the end of January, Thomas left for Parliament, but returned within a half hour. “It’s far too lovely a day to waste, and I’m sure the Lords won’t even notice my absence. Would you join me on a ride to Richmond?”
His eyes were filled with hope, and she bit back the excuse that sprang to her lips. If she was being truthful, she’d like nothing better than to go for a long ride. She was fully aware that Thomas was trying to woo her, but what woman didn’t enjoy being wooed?
“Richmond sounds delightful.”
He entered her dressing room and came out with her green riding dress. “Wear this.”
“You are back to making declarations.”
“Am I?” Their eyes met, and she vividly remembered lying in the grass, half-naked, urging him to make love to her. The green habit had obviously lingered in his memory.
She suddenly felt shy. “Go and get the horses saddled. I’ll be right down.”
His hands did not linger as he helped her mount Amber. She tried not to gaze at him astride Victorious, though he made her pulse race whenever she saw him on the black hunter. Side by side, they cantered through St. James’s Park and headed toward the river.
Then they rode along the Thames embankment, enjoying the myriad watercraft carrying produce from the country up to London. They crossed Putney Bridge, rode over Putney Heath, and headed into Richmond Park.
“It’s such a lovely day, I’m glad you persuaded me to join you. Look! The crocuses are up. I hope I see some snowdrops.”
“There may be some in the walled garden at the inn. We are too late for breakfast, but could I tempt you to join me for lunch?”
“Since you are inviting me rather than commanding me, I accept with pleasure.”
“First, we’ll ride hell for leather,” he declared, and knew she’d be unable to resist.
“You devil!” She urged Amber to a wild gallop, determined to win the race through the park. The last stretch, their mounts were neck and neck, and Harry threw back her head and laughed. She had forgotten how good it felt to drink the cup of life to the dregs.
“You look radiant.”
You said that the first time you brought me to Richmond. She remembered how he had taken her up before him to ride hell for leather. She could still feel his hard cock against her bum, and the grip of his muscled thighs. The wooing had been delicious.
Was it love or lust? her suspicious mind questioned. Surely, if it had been lust, you would have taken me when I offered myself to you.
Harry dismounted before he could help her. They turned their horses over to the hostler and went through the gate into the garden. Because it was enclosed by the stone wall that protected it from the wind, birds had made their winter home here, and white snowdrops and purple and yellow crocuses were lifting their faces to the pale sun.
They enjoyed lamb and barley broth with chunks of crusty baked bread, warm from the oven, followed by treacle tart, and hot mulled cider. When Harry was done, she scattered her crumbs for the birds, watching with delight as they fluttered down from the branches as hunger overcame their timidity.
Thomas reached across the rustic table and covered her hand. “Because of you, I find walled gardens unbelievably romantic. This one has happy memories for me. Thank you for coming today.”
“Thank you for inviting me.” The romantic atmosphere had disarmed her and made her more conducive to closing the distance between them.
On the ride home they followed the river until they came to Chelsea. They rode through a wooded area of cedars and elm trees that were just coming into bud. Beneath the shelter of the branches, a patch of bluebells had sprung up through the moss.
“I love bluebells. Their intense fragrance is heady and overpowering.”
Thomas drew rein and jumped from the saddle. He picked a solitary bluebell and brought it to her. “Like attracts like—heady and overpowering.”
With sparkling eyes, she lifted it to her nose and breathed in its intoxicating scent, beguiled by his romantic gesture.
. . .
That night when she got into bed, Thomas drew the side bed-curtains, but left the foot open to let in the warmth of the fire. He lay on his side facing Harry with his head propped on his hand. The drawn curtains turned their bed into an intimate cocoon that shut out the world. “Bathed in the fire glow, you look like an enchantress from a mythic tale. . . . Circe perhaps.”
Her lips curved into a smile. “Circe could turn men into animals with her magic. If I had her power, I would turn you into a black centaur.”
“So you could ride me,” he murmured suggestively.
His words evoked such a sensual picture in her mind, she went weak with desire. “You look dark and dangerous tonight.”
“Perhaps I am. Does dark and dangerous attract or repel you?”
“Both.” She shuddered.
“You have the most wondrous hair. I ache to caress it and play with it.” His hand reached out. “Like this.” He threaded his fingers through her curls possessively, feeling their silky texture. His hand moved down to her shoulder. “Your skin feels like creamy, smooth velvet.” He traced her clavicle with a finger. Then he cupped her right breast in the palm of his hand and caressed its pink tip through her sheer nightgown gently with his thumb.
You have the most seductive hands in the world. She thought of pulling away, but she was enjoying his caresses too much to deny herself the exquisite pleasure.
“Harry, tonight I’m going to show you how much I adore you. I intend to prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that I am passionately in love with you.” He pulled down the covers, slipped off her nightgown, and drew he
r into his arms.
He began with quick kisses to her temples, eyelids, and the corners of her mouth. His lips kissed her hair, traced along her cheekbone to her ear, and then slid down against her throat. He whispered love words against her sensitive skin, inhaling her woman’s scent, as his tongue licked over her delicate flesh.
She could not wait for his mouth to claim hers. She opened her lips in sensual invitation and for a whole hour they lost themselves in the bliss of slow, melting kisses.
His manly scent made her senses reel. The feel of his powerful hands caressing her body aroused her until her pulse quickened and her blood ached hot and wild. When she felt his hard erection seeking against her soft belly, she wanted to scream. Her nails dug into his shoulders as she tried to stop herself from moaning with excitement.
He came over her in the dominant position and slowly thrust inside her. He felt her sheath close sleekly around his cock, and his breath swept her neck as his lips sought hers, and he drank from her honeyed mouth that was hot and sweet with desire.
“I love you, sweetheart. I love everything about you. I love the way you feel; I love your scent; I love your taste.” He began to move with a slow, tantalizing rhythm, wanting to draw out her pleasure and make it last. “When I see you flushed with passion, excitement stabs through me and makes me long to make you lose control.”
She gasped as his plunging heat made its relentless demands upon her to yield up everything to him. She loved his animal maleness. Everything about him was hard. His chest and shoulders, even his thighs, were corded with muscle. Tonight he took her to the edge, and she found it impossible to hold back physically. She matched his thrusts by arching her body, and his throbbing fullness inside her made her cry out with pleasure.
He became aware of a pulse point deep within. It fluttered erratically and her sheath tightened, inflaming him to unleash the fierce passion that would bring her to her final surrender. When he felt her climax begin, his thrusts slowed to an undulating rhythm. When he heard her shattering cry, he took his own release.
He gathered her close. “I’ve never felt this way before. I love you deeply from the bottom of my heart. I pledge my love to you now and forever.”
She reveled in his vows of adoration, and longed to believe that he loved her. She had long ago lost her heart to him, and now she willingly admitted that her body was his to command. But some small protective part of her being made her hold back the words.
She feared that declaring her undying love for Thomas at this moment would make her too vulnerable. He was dominant by nature, and if she told him how much she loved him, he would be in complete control of her. I must be absolutely sure that he is in love with me.
He kissed her tenderly and she sighed and drifted off to sleep with her head tucked beneath his chin.
Hours later something woke her. She lay quietly, wondering what had disturbed her.
Suddenly she felt her husband’s legs begin to thrash and he shouted something.
“What is it?” she asked softly.
Thomas sat bolt upright. He threw back the covers and shouted, “Fire!”
Fear rushed over her. “Where is the fire?”
He jumped from the bed and ran to the window. “Everything’s ablaze.”
Harry rushed to his side, but all she saw outside was darkness. “Where is it?”
“Shugborough. I must save Shugborough!”
Harry grabbed his arms. “Thomas, we are in London.”
He stared at her until he realized where he was. “Thank God. It was my recurring nightmare.”
Harry lit the lamp, and she watched him walk back to the bed, pull back the curtains, and sit down.
“I’m sorry to frighten you. It was just a dream.”
“You said it was a recurring nightmare. You’ve obviously had it before.”
“No, no, they don’t happen often. I haven’t had the nightmare since we’ve been married,” he reassured her.
She could see that he was shaking. “Get back into bed.”
“No, it will come back.”
She heard the apprehension in his voice. It was the first time she had seen his vulnerability and her heart turned over in her breast. She went to him and cupped his face in her hands. “Darling, I will hold you—I won’t let it come back.”
His dark eyes stared up at her. He did not dare to show her his weakness.
“Thomas, if you love me, you will trust me enough to share the truth.” She turned down the lamp, got back into bed, and waited.
Finally, he slipped into bed and pulled up the covers.
When Harry enfolded him in her arms, he was still shaking. Gradually, as the warmth of her body seeped into his, his limbs grew still. “Tell me,” she whispered.
Eventually he spoke. “I have a deep-seated fear that Shugborough will be destroyed by fire. I try to suppress it, but it manifests itself in dreams.”
“How long have you had these dreams?”
He remained silent.
“Don’t you remember?”
When he didn’t answer, her arms tightened.
“I remember exactly.”
She waited patiently, willing him to confide in her.
Finally, he told her. “It began when I was seventeen. It was right after my father burned down his sporting estate, Ranton Abbey, for the insurance money.”
She was shocked beyond belief at Lichfield’s perfidy, but she remained silent, and in a low, confiding voice he told her everything that happened that day. When he was done, he slid his arms around her and they held each other close.
Harry was finally convinced that her husband loved her enough to trust her, and the last barrier was swept away. “Thomas, I love you with all my heart.”
Chapter Twenty-three
“I shall be glad when February is over. I’ve never known such rain.” The Duchess of Abercorn greeted her two married daughters, and led the way into the drawing room, where Jane was eagerly awaiting her sisters.
“Harry, you are absolutely blooming,” Jane declared. “You were so thin and pale at Christmastime, I was worried about you.”
Louisa glanced at her daughters. “In my experience, the best beauty tonic is love.”
Harry laughed. “I take a spoonful every night when I go to bed.” She winked mischievously. “Sometimes I take two.”
Jane blushed, her mother laughed, and Trixy, not to be outdone, said, “I’m the one who is blooming! I’m absolutely sure. My breasts have enlarged so much, I’m having a new wardrobe made.”
“I’m very happy for you, Beatrix.” Harry hugged her sister.
“Congratulations, darling. D’Arcy must be proud as Punch. When is it to be?”
“I’m not exactly sure—sometime in the month of August, I believe.”
The duchess opened her planning book and wrote it down. “I invited you to afternoon tea to discuss our plans. Your father and I intend to go to Ireland early this year. We will need more than a month, because we want to visit Rachel and James at Kilkenny before we go to Barons Court. We plan to be away for March and April, so we can be back at the beginning of May for Jane’s Season.” Louisa gave her daughters a speaking look. “There will be no rushed weddings this time.” She turned to Trixy. “August will be the perfect time for the arrival of my first grandchild.”
“I miss Rachel.” Harry set down her teacup. “Jane, ask her to come to your debut ball. Talk her into coming back with you for a visit.”
Her mother gave Harry a speculative look. “You could come to Ireland with us.”
“Thank you for the lovely invitation, but Thomas and I are looking forward to Shugborough in April. Spring can’t come fast enough for me.”
“D’Arcy and I are dining with the Marlboroughs tonight at Spencer House. That must be close by your house, Harry.”
“It’s not far. Spencer House is closer to Green Park.”
“George Churchill, the Duke of Marlborough, is on his third wife. He’s a grasping sort
of man,” the duchess said. “His father gambled and left terrible debts, so it’s no wonder he’s avaricious. I heard he charges for shooting parties at Blenheim Palace. I hope he doesn’t have his eye on D’Arcy’s coffers.”
“Marlborough is the lord lieutenant for Oxfordshire. That’s how he and D’Arcy know each other. I’d best be off. I have to go through my wardrobe and find a gown that still fits me.” Trixy kissed her mother and sisters and bade them good-bye.
“Speaking of wardrobes, the children are growing like weeds. I have to go through their clothes before we go to Ireland. I know they’ll need lots of bigger things.”
“That’s good,” Harry declared. “Leave whatever they have outgrown in a neat pile and Rose and I will take it round to Soho.”
“How is Rose doing? Did she learn the ropes of becoming a lady’s maid?”
Harry laughed. “She doesn’t have a lot to do. I do the dressing and Thomas takes care of the undressing.”
“Well, lucky Rose.” Her mother winked suggestively. “And lucky you!”
As Harry was about to leave, her father arrived home.
“I’m highly flattered you came home early, darling.” Louisa kissed her husband.
“I have portentous news. Because of the war losses, Aberdeen was forced to set up a parliamentary inquiry of his policies, and his failure to appoint Lord Palmerston as secretary at war. Today he lost a confidence vote in the Commons and had to resign as prime minister.”
“I believe Uncle Johnny and Palmerston were working in tandem against Aberdeen,” Harry declared.
“Yes, John is coming to dinner tonight. He’s backing Palmerston for prime minister, but I’m afraid there is a fly in the ointment. Prince Albert informed me an hour ago that Victoria doesn’t care for Palmerston and doesn’t want to ask him to be her PM.”
“Well, you and John must do your best to get it settled before the month is out. I don’t want it to interfere with our trip to Ireland,” Louisa said firmly.
“Wouldn’t it be wonderful if Uncle John became prime minister again?” Harry said.
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