The Earl's Runaway Bride

by Sarah Mallory

  ‘I am very sorry.’

  ‘So too am I. Perhaps I should stay in London. I could take you to the town house tonight—’

  ‘No. Lydia often needs me during the night.’

  His brows drew together. ‘I am beginning to think you are trying to fob me off.’

  ‘That is not so, my lord. Lady Souden is ill, she needs my attention.’

  ‘Perhaps you should consider devoting some attention to your husband!’

  She put her hands together. ‘And I will, I give you my word, as soon as I can safely leave Lydia.’ She looked down, conscious of his frowning stare.

  He said quietly, ‘What is it, Fee? What makes it so important that you stay here?’

  ‘Lydia must have love and comfort and careful nursing, all the things that—that a new mother needs if she is to have a healthy baby.’

  ‘I suppose it is no good suggesting that she could find these things elsewhere.’

  ‘She could, of course, but…it is important to me to help her through this ordeal.’

  ‘And why is that?’

  ‘She…is my friend, and I will do everything in my power to make sure she does not suffer the agony of losing a child.’

  Nathan fixed his eyes upon Felicity. She stood before him, eyes downcast and looking distinctly uncomfortable. There was something she was not telling him. She was removed, distant, no longer the delightful companion he remembered from their last meeting.

  He wanted to take her arms and shake her, but that would not release the lively, loving creature he knew was inside her. It might drive her even further from him. He decided to change tactics. ‘Then you had best remain here.’

  Felicity did not know whether to be most relieved or disappointed at his calm acceptance.

  ‘It seems our marriage must wait a little longer, my dear. I will go down to Rosthorne and set everything in readiness for you.’ He took her hand again. ‘I will let you get back to your patient. Write to me; let me know as soon as you can be spared.’

  ‘I will, my lord.’

  His hand tightened on her fingers. ‘So formal? I would rather you called me by my name. Can you do that?’

  ‘Of course…Nathan.’

  Gently he drew her into his arms, placing two fingers beneath her chin to tilt her face up for a brief, gentle kiss. Her heart cried out against such restraint. She wanted him to crush her to him, to override her sensible arguments and carry her off to his town house. She thought she would happily do without sleep if she could spend a few hours each day with Nathan.

  ‘So, madam, will you miss me?’

  This was her chance—she could ask him to stay, tell him how much his presence would support her, but even as the words formed on her tongue the vision of Serena’s green eyes and flaming curls intruded. She would not demean herself by admitting her need when he was besotted by another woman. So she summoned up a bright smile and stepped away from the comfort of his arms.

  ‘Of course, my lord, but I am so very busy it is best if you are not here to distract me. But…the Peace Celebrations are to continue for some months yet—do you not wish to stay in town for that?’

  He grimaced. ‘I have had enough of crowds and spectacle. There is plenty of work to be done at Rosthorne.’

  ‘And you will set out for Hampshire tomorrow?’

  He nodded. ‘As soon as it is light.’ He paused. ‘If there is nothing more to say then I shall leave you now.’

  ‘No,’ she said brightly. ‘I wish you a safe journey, my lord.’

  His gaze rested upon her for a long moment and it was as much as Felicity could do to maintain her cheerful countenance. Then, with a word and a nod, he was gone. Felicity ran to the window and peeped out. A groom was walking Nathan’s great black horse up and down the road. As she watched, he turned quickly and brought the animal back to the door just as Nathan appeared. He mounted effortlessly into the saddle and exchanged a few brief words with his groom as he gathered up the reins. Felicity drew back quickly as Nathan cast a last, unsmiling look at the house before he turned his mount and trotted away.

  ‘Fee? What are you doing?’

  Felicity looked up. ‘Oh, are you awake, Lydia? Janet and I thought you might sleep for an hour or so, yet.’

  ‘No, dearest, I have been lying here watching you. Are you writing to Rosthorne?’

  Felicity put down her pen and walked across to the huge bed, where Lydia lay propped up against a bank of snowy white pillows.

  ‘I am, but it can wait. Shall I draw the curtains? The afternoon sun is very bright—’

  ‘No matter, I like to see the sun shining.’ Lydia patted her hand invitingly. ‘Come and sit on the bed and tell me all that you are writing to him.’

  ‘Well, he asks after your health, so I have said that Dr Scott is very pleased with you, and that you now spend a little time each day on the daybed by an open window.’

  Lydia placed her hands on her swollen belly and chuckled. ‘Did you also tell him that I am becoming grossly fat?’

  ‘Of course not! I described you as being in high bloom now.’

  ‘Did you? Then he will be demanding that you leave me.’

  Felicity’s smiled slipped a little. ‘Not for a while yet; his letter said that he is off to Yorkshire for a few weeks, to visit his estates there.’

  ‘No word of his coming to town?’

  ‘No. Lydia, do not look at me in that way. It was agreed that I should stay here with you for as long as you need me.’

  ‘And I do need you, love. With James obliged to spend so much time dancing attendance on the Prince Regent I should be moped to death here without you.’

  Felicity smiled. ‘How can you say that when every post brings you a shower of letters and we are forever taking in flowers from your friends? Even Lady Charlotte sent a bouquet.’

  ‘Lord, yes, I was surprised to see she was still in town. Keeping an eye upon her son, I think.’ Lydia chuckled. ‘I hear he is very taken with the red-haired widow, Lady Ansell. Lady Charlotte will wish to squash that connection.’

  Felicity tried to smile. She wondered if she should tell Lydia about Serena, but decided against it. Lydia stirred restlessly.

  ‘I am most disappointed in Rosthorne,’ she complained. ‘I thought he was very much in love with you, but if that was so I wonder that he has stayed away from town for so long.’

  ‘Clearly he was not so besotted as you thought,’ returned Felicity, trying to keep her voice light.

  ‘Oh, Fee, I am sorry—if I had not been ill you would have been happily settled with your earl by this time.’

  Felicity shrugged, sadness squeezing at her heart. What happiness could there be for her if Nathan was still in love with Serena Ansell?

  The months dragged on: the hot summer days gave way to the cooler mists and rain of autumn and still Nathan did not come to London. He wrote several times to Felicity, his letters polite, friendly even, but with no hint of the lover in their tone and Felicity resolutely buried the hopes that had burgeoned so strongly at the beginning of the summer. She would do her duty, when the time came, but before that there were nervous weeks ahead as the time drew near for Lydia’s confinement.

  It was the news Nathan had been waiting for. The brief note from Sir James informed him that Lady Souden had been safely delivered of a strong, healthy girl. Mother and baby were both doing well, Dr Scott was confident that there was no risk now of childbed fever and declared that they would both be well enough to travel to Souden at the end of October.

  Nathan penned a short message of congratulations to Sir James and his lady, and an even shorter one to Felicity, informing her that he would be in London by the end of the week and requesting that she should be ready on the Friday morning to travel with him to Hampshire. As he fixed the seal to this second missive, he thought over all the frustrations of the past few months, when he had thrown himself into the business of his estates rather than giving in to the urge to post up to town. He was surprised how
much he had missed her; it was a physical pain and now that the waiting was almost over he allowed himself to think of her again, to remember her shy smile, which would light up a room for him, and the mischievous twinkle he would sometimes surprise in her eyes. He had been very forbearing; she had said she did not want him there to distract her so he had kept away, but now, climbing into his travelling carriage on a misty October morning, he was returning to claim his wife.

  Chapter Twelve

  ‘Of all the arrogant, unfeeling—!’ Felicity almost stamped her foot as she read Nathan’s hasty scrawl.

  ‘What is it, Fee?’ Lydia, with a sleeping baby in her arms, did not look up.

  ‘This note from Rosthorne. He informs me I am to leave here tomorrow morning, without so much as a by your leave!’ With a little huff of frustration she twisted the paper between her hands and hurled it across the room.

  Lydia merely smiled. ‘He has been very patient, my dear, and I cannot keep you with me for ever, much as I would like to, for you are so good with your little god-daughter.’

  Felicity’s anger drained away as she regarded the mother and child. ‘Baby Elizabeth is so good, it is not difficult to love her.’

  ‘She is a darling, isn’t she? But you have such a way with you.’ Lydia twinkled up at her. ‘I find it hard to believe you have no experience in the nursery.’

  Felicity gazed for a long moment at the baby. She had to breathe deeply to remove the constriction in her throat.

  ‘No,’ she said at last, and with perfect truth. ‘No, I have never held a baby before.’

  ‘Well, once you are back with your husband I am sure it will not be very long before you have a family of your own—’

  ‘Oh, Lydia, pray do not go on!’

  ‘Darling Fee! What is it?’

  Felicity hesitated, then with a sob she threw herself on her knees beside Lydia’s chair. ‘I am afraid,’ she confessed, resting her head against Lydia’s knee.

  ‘Frightened of the bedroom? I am sure there is not the least need…’

  Felicity blushed. ‘No, it is not that. It is Nathan.’ She searched for her handkerchief. ‘I am not sure of him. I—I do not think I know him any more…’

  Lydia, still euphoric after the worries of the past few months, merely smiled and laid a gentle hand on Felicity’s head. ‘This is nothing more than nerves, Fee. You love him, do you not?’

  Felicity sighed. ‘Yes,’ she whispered. ‘That is, I did, but he is so different now.’

  ‘You are both different—five years older, for one thing. I have seen the earl’s face when he looks at you. He desires you, Felicity.’

  ‘But does he love me?’ she persisted, wiping her eyes.

  Lydia smiled. ‘For gentlemen, love and desire are very closely linked,’ she said softly. ‘With James, one followed the other, and look how happy we are now.’ She gave Felicity a little push. ‘Go and pack your bags, my dear, and consider your good fortune: Rosthorne is a kind and honourable man. He is also very rich and exceedingly attractive, despite the scar across his brow. I vow if I was not head over heels in love with James I would set my cap at him myself!’

  Nervously, Felicity tied the ribbons of her bonnet. She had seen the handsome travelling carriage pull up outside the house and had received a message that Lord Rosthorne was awaiting her below. A glance out of the window showed her that even now the servants were carrying her trunk out of the house.

  Sir James was standing with the earl in the hall and both men turned as Felicity made her way down the stairs. Her new pelisse and bonnet were a present from Lydia, who had insisted that the soft sage-green colour suited her very well and would boost her confidence. Very necessary, she thought, as she met the earl’s unsmiling look.

  Felicity dropped a curtsy. ‘My lord.’

  He bowed. Sir James stepped forward.

  ‘Well, Lady Rosthorne, we must say goodbye to you.’ He reached for her hand and kissed her fingers. ‘My wife has already told you how grateful we are to you?’

  ‘Yes, sir. I have just left her bedchamber.’

  ‘Then it only remains for me to say goodbye and to wish you and Lord Rosthorne every happiness.’

  Nathan held out his arm to her. ‘Shall we be on our way, ma’am?’ She met his eyes and observed the glint of amusement there. He knew how much she wanted to turn and run. But his look was not unkind. He said gently, ‘Come, my lady.’

  Felicity gave him her hand and he led her to the waiting carriage. She had time for one final, smiling wave to Sir James before they were away, clattering out of London. She was very aware of the earl, sitting in one corner of the coach. He was watching her and his gaze made her spine tingle. She had the impression that he could see every curve of her body, despite the jaconet muslin pelisse that enveloped her. She did not know whether she was most alarmed or excited by the thought. Excited, she admitted to herself. She had certainly missed him.

  ‘I was surprised to receive the letter from Sir James,’ remarked Nathan. ‘I thought perhaps you might write first, to tell me the good news.’

  Felicity cleared her throat. ‘I—I was waiting, to be sure…’

  ‘Putting off the evil day?’ His dry tone sent the blood rushing to her cheeks.

  ‘Not evil, my lord.’ She risked a quick glance at him and observed that he was smiling. She was emboldened to add, ‘I confess I am a little apprehensive.’

  ‘There is no need.’

  ‘No? The tone of your note was very peremptory, and we left Berkeley Square so quickly this morning…’

  ‘I am sorry to rush you away from your friends,’ he replied. ‘Naturally I am anxious for you to assume your role as my wife, but there is another reason I wish to be at Rosthorne in good time today. My mother is expecting us and she keeps early hours—her health is not good, you see. She injured her hip in a riding accident years ago and it has never healed properly. She tires very easily.’

  ‘Oh, I am sorry for that,’ Felicity responded with ready sympathy. ‘How far is Rosthorne?’

  ‘A little over fifty miles. It is just west of Petersfield, near the village of Hazelford. It is not the biggest of my houses—judicious marriages by my ancestors added a couple of substantial properties in the north—but it is the one I use most.’

  ‘And Mrs Carraway lives there?’

  ‘Yes, she has her own apartments in the east wing.’

  ‘I am looking forward to meeting her.’

  With nothing more to say, she turned her head to gaze once more out of the carriage window. She heard Nathan shift his position, felt his thigh against hers.

  He said softly, ‘Don’t be afraid of me, Felicity.’

  She did not move. His fingers were playing idly with the curls at the back of her neck, causing a sensation akin to ice trickling down her back.

  ‘I—I am not afraid,’ she stammered, fighting the desire to lean back against his hand.

  ‘Good. I would not have you afraid.’ She could feel his breath on her cheek. ‘We could deal very well together, if you would only trust me.’

  She remained perfectly still, her eyes fixed on the landscape flying past them. ‘I do, Nathan. I do trust you.’

  His lips brushed her neck. She trembled, her breath exhaled in a tiny moan. Nathan put his hands on her shoulders and turned her towards him, his lips seeking hers. The next moment she was locked in his arms and he was kissing her, tenderly at first, but with increasing passion. Her arms crept around his neck. She was aware of his fingers unbuttoning her pelisse, exposing the soft column of her throat to his caresses.

  Nathan’s pulse leapt erratically when she responded to his kiss. She pressed against him, her fingers tangling gently in his hair. Her touch excited him and he felt the latent passion behind her hesitant, tentative responses. He drew back, suppressing his desire to lose himself in her soft, innocent beauty. He kept one hand on her neck, his thumb tracing the fine line of her jaw. She gazed at him, her eyes dark beneath half-closed lids and her
reddened lips parted slightly, inviting him in. It was irresistible. He kissed her again, then gently put her away from him.

  ‘You are too tempting, madam wife. I will have to move back into my corner before I forget myself.’ He saw the flash in her eyes, half-surprise, half-pleasure, and he laughed. ‘You do not realise just how bewitching you are, do you?’

  The blush in her cheeks deepened. ‘Am I, truly?’

  ‘Yes, truly.’ He lifted her hand, turning it to place a kiss on the exposed skin of her inner wrist, between the edge of her glove and the lace cuff of her sleeve. She did not pull away and he saw that she was watching him, a soft glow in her eyes. What he read there sent his heart soaring. He placed her hand back in her lap and released it.

  ‘Compose yourself, madam. We shall be stopping soon for a change of horses and some refreshment. I shall not be able to leave the carriage if you continue to look at me in that way.’

  Felicity flushed, laughed and looked away, inordinately pleased with the effect she was having upon her husband.

  The coach rolled on, the bustling, dirty streets and the acrid smell from the coal fires were soon left behind and they were rattling through towns and villages where small children stared in open-mouthed wonder and labourers in the fields straightened their backs to watch them go past.

  Felicity gazed at everything with interest, especially when they reached Hampshire and Nathan pointed out the rich pastures and thickly wooded slopes of his estate.

  ‘When shall we see the house?’ she asked him, glancing up at the sun, low on the horizon. ‘Shall we be there before dark?’

  ‘Yes, we are nearly there now. Rosthorne Hall is too well screened to be seen from the road. You must wait until we are in the park.’

  Even as he spoke the carriage slowed. A sharp blast of the horn brought the lodge-keeper hurrying out to throw open the gates leading to a tree-lined drive. Nathan let down the window to exchange a few words with the man as they drove past then sat back, reaching for Felicity’s hand.