The Earl's Runaway Bride

by Sarah Mallory

  In the main bedchamber they found the candles burning on the mantelshelf and Nathan’s man on his knees before the fire, coaxing it into a blaze. He jumped to his feet as they entered.

  ‘It’s good to see you again, my lady,’ he said with a little bow. ‘Welcome to Rosthorne Hall.’

  ‘Thank you, Sam.’

  He gave her a quick smile, half-saluted Nathan and went quickly to the door.

  ‘Sam.’ Nathan’s one quiet word halted him. ‘Find my lady’s maid and tell her she may go to bed. She will not be needed again tonight.’

  With a nod he was gone, and they were alone.

  ‘Very cavalier of you, my lord,’ said Felicity, trying to conceal her nerves with a flippant remark.

  He looked down at her, his eyes glinting. ‘Do you think I cannot undress you? Come here.’

  She walked towards him and he put his hands on her shoulders, drawing her closer. His kiss was slow and thorough and Felicity’s senses took flight. She was no longer nervous but eager now for him to make love to her. The memory of their wedding night, a memory that she had suppressed for so long, flooded into her mind and she wanted to feel again the soaring, intense pleasure of his body against hers. She put her arms about him, hugging him close while his own hands loosened the thin drawstrings that fastened the little puff sleeves of her gown. Then they slid around her back to tease open the hooks. When Nathan raised his head and gently pulled away from her, Felicity felt bereft. She wanted only to be back in his arms, to be kissing him once more.

  The little part of her brain that was still working registered some satisfaction at his laboured breathing and the way his hands trembled as they moved up over her arms and pushed the gown off her shoulders. It fell to the floor with a whisper. Her chemise followed swiftly and he turned her around, pressing kisses on the back of her neck while he drew the laces from the confining corset that imprisoned her. But even as the linen and whalebone stays fell away she was imprisoned again as Nathan’s hands slid around to cup her breasts. With a little moan of frustration she turned within the circle of his arms, pulling his face down to hers, seeking his mouth. Impatiently she began to tear at his clothes. Jacket and waistcoat were quickly discarded, shirt and breeches followed. He swept her up and carried her to the huge tester bed.

  Nathan laid her down gently on the covers, deep in shadow, and she reached for him, eager for his touch. He obliged with kisses and caresses that sent her spirits soaring. She responded with caresses of her own, revelling in his closeness, the feel of his skin against hers. She was like a flower, unfurling in the heat of his sun, opening up, offering herself with an abandon that shocked her. Their coupling was wild and urgent. They rolled together in a tangle of limbs, crying out as excitement surged through them until at length they fell back on the covers, spent and exhausted.

  A warm sense of well-being had settled over Felicity. She put her hand up to Nathan’s face, her fingers moving up the soft ridge of scar, following it from his cheek to his temple. He covered her fingers with his own.

  He said with difficulty, ‘This—disfigurement. Does it—do you find it…repellent?’

  ‘No,’ she said softly. ‘It is part of you—it is what makes you who you are.’ She drew his head down and placed her lips gently against the mark.

  With a sigh he caught her against him, burying his face in her hair. Felicity wrapped herself about him and allowed him to possess her once more, before finally succumbing to a deep, contented sleep.

  Felicity awoke to find herself alone. She sat up when she heard the soft creak of the door as her maid peeped into the room.

  ‘Ooh, I beg your pardon, my lady, did I wake you?’

  ‘No, Martha. Where is the earl?’

  ‘His lordship is already gone out riding, my lady. He left orders that you was to be allowed to sleep on and he will join you for breakfast.’

  Felicity threw back the bedcovers.

  ‘Then you had best help me to get dressed.’

  It was an hour later when Nathan returned. Bella heard his approach; she was sitting at Felicity’s feet under the breakfast table but came out and uttered a joyful bark as Nathan appeared in the doorway. Felicity was every bit as happy to see him as the little spaniel, but she contented herself with a wide smile. He was dressed for riding in jacket, topboots and tight-fitting buckskins. She thought how well he looked as a country gentleman. He was relaxed, his complexion still glowing from his early morning exercise, and he sat down beside Felicity, eager to discuss his plans for her entertainment. After listening to him for a full five minutes she put up her hands, laughing.

  ‘Enough, my lord,’ she said. ‘Much as I would enjoy visiting all your neighbours and attending the local assembly you must remember that I have very few gowns suitable for a countess.’

  He poured himself a cup of coffee. ‘It is not the gowns but what is underneath that is important.’ He turned his head towards her, his eyes glinting. ‘And what is beneath your gowns is very suitable for a countess, my lady.’

  She flushed scarlet and was thankful they were alone in the room. She said seriously, ‘I would not wish to embarrass you, my lord.’

  He took her hand and kissed it. ‘You could never embarrass me but you are quite right, we did not buy you a trousseau. Shall we post back to London and open up the town house? Or will you put yourself in my mother’s hands? She rarely leaves Rosthorne and has local dressmakers and milliners that attend her here.’

  ‘I would rather not return to town, sir, and would gladly talk to your mama,’ replied Felicity. ‘An excellent solution.’

  After breakfast Nathan took Felicity along to Mrs Carraway’s apartments. She was only too pleased to help.

  ‘In general I use Jannine, in Winchester. She has a sister in town who is very useful for providing details of the latest fashions. I shall write to her immediately and explain that we need pattern books and fabrics sent here as soon as possible. I shall tell her that you need a complete wardrobe: walking dresses, morning gowns, pelisses, spencers—and we shall need a milliner, too…’

  ‘Dear ma’am, you must not overtax yourself,’ cried Felicity, alarmed. ‘I had not thought to give you so much work!’

  Mrs Carraway brushed aside her concerns.

  ‘Norton and I will positively enjoy being involved in such a task. Of course, the decisions on styles and fabrics must be yours, my dear, but I do hope you will allow us to help you.’

  Felicity’s response was heartfelt. ‘I do not know quite where I should begin, ma’am, and should be very glad of your assistance.’ She added hesitantly, ‘My Uncle Philip did not approve of elegant clothes. He thought they were the trappings of the devil.’

  ‘Then he was wrong,’ replied Mrs Carraway robustly. ‘They are the trappings of your position as Rosthorne’s countess. Nathan is lord of the manor here, and as his consort people will expect you to dress accordingly.’

  Thus it was that within a few days an army of seamstresses and dressmakers descended upon Rosthorne Hall together with ells of muslin, chintz and silks in a bewildering assortment of patterns and colours. Felicity allowed herself to be pinned, prodded and measured, but her reward was to slip away every morning to ride out with Nathan. Her riding habit was serviceable rather than elegant, but the blue jacket showed her neat figure to advantage and Nathan announced that it was perfectly suitable for riding around the estate.

  He introduced her to the tenants and lodge-keepers, gardeners and gamekeepers that they met during these rides, and on one particularly sunny day when they had reached the limits of the Rosthorne land he suggested riding a little further.

  ‘That is, unless you have to get back to the house.’

  ‘To be stitched into even more gowns?’ she laughed at him. ‘No, I thank you!’

  ‘I thought you would enjoy buying new clothes.’

  ‘I do, but not all at once! Mama Carraway has been so good as to take charge of the sewing room. I have only to choose the fabric and the pat
tern and she does all the rest. I am very grateful to her.’

  ‘And I am grateful to you,’ he responded promptly. ‘You have provided my mother with a new interest and she is greatly enjoying herself.’

  ‘I am glad. Your mama has been very kind to me.’ She paused, then added haltingly, ‘I thought, at first, that she might not like me—and she had every right—I behaved abominably to you.’

  He reached out for her hand. ‘No, she likes you, very much.’

  ‘Thank you,’ whispered Felicity. She blinked rapidly and said after a moment, ‘Well, my lord? Where are we going now?’

  ‘To West Meon, no more than a few miles away. Adam Elliston’s parents live in the village—I should like to make you known to them.’ Felicity did not reply immediately; the mention of Nathan’s friend brought back vivid memories of Corunna. Nathan said quickly, ‘Perhaps it is too much to ask of you, after all we have been riding for—’

  ‘No, no,’ she interrupted him, smiling. ‘I should be very happy—honoured—to meet them, if you do not think me too shabbily dressed for the visit?’

  ‘No. You have a little mud on your cheek, but if we remove that I think you will pass muster.’

  ‘Mud? Where?’

  Nathan brought his horse closer. ‘Keep still and I will deal with it.’ He pulled off his glove and took her handkerchief from her fingers. ‘You did the same for me, in Green Park, do you remember?’

  She shivered. ‘How could I forget? Have there been any more attacks since you left town?’

  ‘No, none. So you see, there is no grand plan to dispose of me.’ He cupped her chin with one hand while he wiped the mud from her cheek. ‘There, you are respectable again.’ Felicity remained very still, gazing into his face. Nathan’s mouth curved upwards in a tantalising smile. ‘What say you we postpone our visit to the Ellistons? We could dismount here and—ah—take a stroll in the woods.’

  Her heart began to race. She could not mistake his meaning, nor the warm look in his eyes. It was an outrageous suggestion, but she was not at all shocked by it, only by her own impulse to agree. She swallowed convulsively and said in a rallying tone, ‘If we do that, my lord, I shall certainly not be fit to be seen!’

  He laughed. ‘No, you are right, we must go on to West Meon.’ He released her, sighing. ‘Pity…’

  A chuckle escaped Felicity, but she said severely, ‘Fie, my lord. Let us ride on; you must attend to your duty.’

  ‘That is what I was planning to do.’

  She choked, decided it would be unwise to try to respond and instead she spurred her horse on, hoping that she would regain her composure before they reached their destination.

  ‘So Nathan has been introducing you to our neighbours.’

  Mrs Carraway joined them for dinner, and they were seated within the candles’ glow in the small parlour.

  ‘He took me to West Meon today to meet Mr and Mrs Elliston, and their daughter,’ replied Felicity. ‘They send their regards to you, and Mrs Elliston promised to call very soon.’

  Mrs Carraway nodded.

  ‘A delightful couple, and their daughter Judith is a lovely girl. She has been their sole comfort since they lost Adam—such a good-natured boy. I felt for them most deeply when I learned of his death.’ She added, her voice breaking, ‘And I feel my own good fortune even more.’

  Nathan reached across the table for her hand. ‘So, too, do I, Mama. But let us not dwell on the past—tell me how you have gone on today. Have you been busy with the dressmakers all day?’

  ‘No, for Mrs Orr, the vicar’s wife, came to take tea with me. A pleasant woman, but addicted to gossip.’ Mrs Carraway smiled at Felicity. ‘I think her object in calling was to find out all about you, my dear. You need not be anxious, I told her only that you had been living quietly with friends in London until Nathan could bring you home. She thought it very romantical! Everyone is eagerly awaiting your appearance at church tomorrow.’

  ‘Good heavens,’ exclaimed Nathan, startled. ‘Do we have to go? You will remember how they stared the first time we came here, as if I were a prize exhibit!’

  ‘Of course you must go, my son! It is most important that you and your wife are seen abroad, and you know that they will soon grow tired of staring at you.’ She reached out and lifted a chocolate shell from the sweetmeat dish in front of her. ‘And Felicity will not be the only new face for the congregation to gape at. Mrs Orr tells me Godfrey Park is let.’

  ‘I had not heard that. Godfrey Park is a neat little property about three miles north of here,’ Nathan told Felicity. ‘We passed it on our way here from town. So, Mama, who are our new neighbours?’

  ‘Well, according to the agent—and he should know the facts, should he not?—it is a widow. The relict of a wealthy gentleman from Somerset. A Lady Ansell.’

  Chapter Fourteen

  The warmth and contentment Felicity had been feeling vanished in an instant. Her eyes flew to Nathan. He was very still, looking at Mrs Carraway.

  ‘Ansell? Formerly married to Colonel Craike?’

  ‘That I do not know, only that she is a wealthy widow.’

  ‘Well, we shall find out soon enough,’ Nathan responded coolly. ‘Did I mention that I have given instructions for the track through the Home Wood to be cleared? It has become sadly overgrown this summer…’

  Lady Ansell’s name was not mentioned again, but Felicity felt her presence like a cloud over her own happiness.

  As she made her way upstairs to their bedchamber that night she resolved to say something to Nathan. She was at her dressing table, brushing out her hair, when he came in. Even in the candlelight the colourful pattern on his heavy silk banyan was garishly bright.

  ‘You are the devil of a time about your undressing,’ he told her.

  Felicity dismissed her maid.

  ‘I have been looking at my new gowns; two of them are ready and I have been trying to decide which one I shall wear tomorrow. If Mama Carraway is correct we shall be under scrutiny when we go to church.’

  He came up behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders, meeting her eyes in the mirror. ‘It is only natural that everyone will want to see my new countess.’

  She smiled a little, and looked away, idly straightening the glass pots on the table. ‘They will also wish to see the new tenant of Godfrey Park.’ She risked a fleeting look up. ‘I wonder what brings her to Hampshire?’

  ‘I have no idea.’

  Words filled Felicity’s head, but they would not be spoken—she wanted to ask Nathan is he still loved Serena, if he had invited her to be near him. If she was his mistress. She knew such arrangements were not uncommon and the questions battered at her head, even as Nathan pulled her up into his arms. Ask him, the voice inside her screamed. Ask him to tell you the truth, now. But as Nathan swept her up and carried her into the bedroom, she buried her head in his shoulder and quelled the nagging demon inside her, wretchedly acknowledging that she would not ask the questions, because she was too afraid of the answers.

  The dawning of a bright and warm Sunday morning did much to restore Felicity’s spirits and her confidence was greatly increased by Nathan’s look of admiration when she presented herself in a new flounced gown of white muslin with an olive-green velvet spencer and matching high-poke bonnet.

  ‘Well, my lord, will I do?’ she asked shyly, fingering the green ribbons of her bonnet.

  ‘Admirably.’ He held out his arm to her. ‘Shall we go?’

  They found Mrs Carraway waiting for them in the carriage, the faithful Norton at her side.

  ‘Well now, you make a very handsome couple,’ she declared as Nathan handed Felicity into the carriage. ‘Just one thing, if you will permit me, my dear. Norton, re-tie the ribbons of Lady Rosthorne’s bonnet, if you please. Yes, that’s it—a large bow, just beneath her ear.’

  As Mrs Carraway’s companion sat back to admire her handiwork, Felicity cast an anxious glance at Nathan. He was grinning at her.

  ‘Very das
hing.’

  ‘Oh,’ she said, daunted. ‘Not too dashing for a Sunday?’

  ‘Not at all, my love,’ declared Mrs Carraway. ‘It is perfect for a young bride, as is the colour in your pretty cheek. Give the driver the word, Nathan, we do not want to be late.’

  The little church in Hazelford village was crowded and Felicity was glad of Nathan’s arm as he escorted her to family’s box pew below the pulpit. The congregation stared at her with unashamed curiosity and she guessed that many of them had come especially to see the new Lady Rosthorne.

  ‘Well, Mr Orr’s sermon was not too long, thank heaven,’ muttered Mrs Carraway as they prepared to leave the church after the service. ‘Now, my son, you must take your countess outside, and face the dragons!’

  Felicity accompanied Nathan out of the church, blinking in the sunlight, and was confronted by a bewildering number of strangers, all wishing to be presented to her. With Nathan beside her she smiled and said all that was proper. From the corner of her eye she saw Norton escorting Mrs Carraway to the carriage; another few moments, she thought, and they could drive away, back to the peace and privacy of Rosthorne.

  ‘Ah, my lord—’ the vicar’s blustering tones shattered her hopes ‘—we cannot let you and your good lady leave without introducing another new member of our congregation.’

  Felicity turned to find Serena standing before her, tall and beautiful in a lavender carriage dress, a single ostrich feather curling around the edge of her bonnet and framing her perfect features.

  ‘The earl and I were in Corunna together,’ Serena told the beaming vicar.

  Felicity bridled at the implication of her words.

  ‘I knew him even before he married.’ She turned to Felicity with the merest hint of a curtsy. ‘But you were only Mrs Carraway then, my lady.’

  ‘Yes, of course.’ Felicity was surprised that her voice did not shake. ‘And you were Mrs Craike.’