He took a moment, appearing to consider the question before saying, “I think I might.”
Chuckling, she spun toward the window and pulled the translucent curtain aside so she could look out. “You are incorrigible.”
She listened to his footsteps against the carpet, her breath hitching a fraction as he stepped up behind her, encasing her in his strength. Placing his chin against the top of her head, he pulled her closer—so close that she could feel the rise and fall of his chest against her back. “Would you prefer me not to be?”
“No. I would never want you to be anything other than who you are.”
A moment of silence followed before he quietly asked, “How are you feeling?”
“Better,” she said, her voice a little more timid than before. It couldn’t be helped. Not when his fingers were playing softly against her arm. The effect was almost dizzying.
“Well enough for this?” he asked. Gently, as if he feared he might break her, he touched his lips to her temple, scorching a path down over her cheek.
Surrendering with a sigh of pleasure, she leaned further into his embrace.
“How about for this?”
His lips touched the curve where her neck met her shoulder and she immediately shivered. “Yes.” The word misted across the windowpane. Releasing the curtain, she allowed it to slip between her fingers and fall back into place before turning in her husband’s arms.
His hands glided over her, a delicate touch reminding her of sunbeams dancing across a field of wildflowers. Skimming her fingertips across the front of his jacket, she drew a shuddering breath before winding her arms around his neck. Her eyes met his. They were dark like the night, but filled with profound wonder. “I love you.” His honesty brought her lips to his—a precious kiss wrought from the knowledge that their hopes and dreams had been fulfilled. They had each other now, their hearts in perfect harmony, beating in time to the concert that now encompassed their lives.
“I love you too,” she whispered, her breath caressing the edge of his jaw. The words brought movement to his fingers, their touch like dewdrops upon the ground as they unfastened the buttons at the back of her gown.
Heat licked the length of her spine the moment his hands touched her shoulders, hovering briefly before nudging away the sleeves. Her gown, so light and airy, floated to the floor where it was met by her shift and stays.
“Exquisite.” The raw emotion with which he spoke drove away the anxiety that came from being so utterly exposed. Instead, she savored the feel of his hands sliding over her, caressing her and loving her with all that he was.
When he kissed her again, she welcomed it, conveying with every fiber of her being the longing that was in her heart, and as their breaths merged into one, he gathered her carefully in his arms and carried her to the bed, lowering her against the pristine white pillows.
Heat bloomed in her cheeks as she watched him undress, her curious gaze absorbing his strength and vitality, her brow puckering at the sight of the scars that continued down the side of his neck and over his chest. Registering his awareness of her regard, she held out her hand, willing him to come closer. He did so swiftly, his bare feet padding across the hardwood floor until he arrived at her side, his fingers touching hers as though they held the secret to everlasting life. “I am sorry for what happened to you,” she said as she drew him closer, “but the scars are a part of you now—a part of the man who can make me forget all else. They do not alter my feelings for you.”
His eyes—those dark, dark eyes—shimmered like a starlit sky. “You are a Godsend, Mary. I swear to you that I will always do everything in my power to make you happy.”
The mattress dipped beneath his weight as he sat down beside her, his closeness producing a delicious swirl of emotion in the pit of her belly. “I have no idea of what to do,” she hesitantly confessed.
Leaning over her, he placed a tender kiss to her forehead. “Yes, you do. You are just not aware of it yet.”
“But what if I do something wrong?”
His eyes widened a fraction, his expression bordering on incredulity. Slowly, he shook his head, conveying without words how impossible that would be. “Just love me as I intend to love you, and all will be well, Mary. I promise you.”
Nodding, she accepted his reasoning, her arms coming around his neck and drawing him closer. Tentatively, he ran his hand along the length of her in long easy strokes, caressing her until glowing embers sparked against her skin. Running his mouth down over her, he kissed her with reverence until she sighed with pleasure, her fingers mapping him in irresistible exploration.
As soon as she was ready, he lowered himself over her and drew her to him, uniting them both in the simplest way possible while golden rays of sunshine shimmered across the walls in a mystical movement of light. It was gradual, and it was attentive, their fingers weaving together while words of endearment whispered between them.
“I am yours.”
“Until the end of time.”
Chapter 20
Later that evening, dressed in a daring red gown that Richard had purchased for her as a wedding gift, Mary arrived in the Thorncliff ballroom, escorted there by her husband who was looking very dashing in his evening black. At his request, she had declined the use of feathers and dressed her hair in a simple style with a mother-of-pearl comb as the only adornment.
“You are without a doubt the loveliest lady in the room, Mrs. Heartly,” Richard spoke close to her ear, the sound of his voice tickling her insides.
“In my opinion, I am the luckiest.” She smiled up at him while he guided her forward. “No other lady here can claim to have a husband as handsome as you. Indeed, I am sure that all the young debutantes here must be quite envious of me.”
Chuckling, he snatched a glass of champagne from a passing tray and handed it to her. “Perhaps I should invite one of them to dance?”
“Perhaps,” she agreed, taking a sip of the bubbly liquid and enjoying the fizz skipping along her tongue. “But before you do, I must insist that you partner with me for the cotillion.”
He didn’t look thrilled with the idea. “We will have to switch partners during, which is why I would much prefer the waltz.”
“There is no reason why we cannot dance both,” she said. “We are married now so we may dance with each other as many times as we like during the course of one evening.”
A smile followed. “Mrs. Heartly, I do believe I like the way you think.” Taking her glass from her, he took a sip as well before handing it to a nearby footman. “Shall we?”
Three other couples joined them, exchanging partners as they weaved in and out, joining hands, stepping back and moving in a wide circle. When the dance was almost at an end, Richard reached for Mary and pulled her unpredictably close. One second, her feet were firmly on the floor, the next, she was being swung through the air as he spun her around, eyes bright with love for her while everyone clapped in response.
She couldn’t help but laugh, her heart so full of light that it could scarcely contain it. Lowering her face toward his, her hands placed firmly upon his shoulders, she captured his lips to a cascading roar of “hurrahs!”
“I think the ton approves of our match,” Richard grinned. Slowly, he returned Mary to a standing position, his arm wrapped loosely around her waist.
They stood like that for a moment until the claps and cheers faded and the orchestra struck up a new tune to signal the next dance. Moving aside, they were met by Sarah and Spencer. “Congratulations once again,” Spencer said. A smile lit his face, but nothing conveyed how happy he was on his brother’s behalf as the sheer joy shining in his eyes. Addressing Mary, he said, “I do hope that there is room on your dance card for me.”
“Of course there is,” she said, handing him the card and pencil so he could jot down his name.
“Just as long as you do not claim the waltz,” Richard cut in.
Straightening himself, Spencer arched an eyebrow and handed the dan
ce card back to Mary. “No need to concern yourself about that.” Reaching for Sarah, he pulled her closer to his side. “If you recall, I am also recently married and intend on partnering with my viscountess for that particular dance.”
“Not to intrude,” Lady Duncaster said as she joined the group, “but I would like to have a private word with all of you later this evening. After supper perhaps? We can adjourn to the music room.”
“Certainly,” Sarah said. Leaning slightly forward, she softly inquired, “Will you tell us what this is about?”
Lady Duncaster’s assessing gaze roamed over each of them. “I prefer not to speak of it here. You will discover the subject soon enough. If you will excuse me now, it is time for me to dance the quadrille with his grace, the Duke of Pinehurst.”
Mary watched her drift across the floor in search of her partner. Dressed in a frothy blue gown trimmed with white lace, Lady Duncaster looked as though she’d just stepped out of the sea. Heavy bracelets encased her gloved wrists while a sapphire and diamond necklace paired with matching earrings and hairpins sent light scattering in her wake. It was difficult to imagine that she had won the archery contest during the games day four weeks earlier. A smile touched Mary’s lips at the thought of what it must have been like to have known the countess in her youth.
“What do you suppose that was about?” Spencer asked, breaking the silence that had fallen over them as they’d each considered the meaning behind Lady Duncaster’s request.
Richard looked to Mary. “Do you think it might have something to do with what we found?”
Uncertain of how much she ought to divulge, Mary hesitated a moment before saying, “Perhaps. But if it is, then Lady Duncaster is right to caution us about speaking of it here.”
“I agree,” Sarah said. “We must respect her wishes.”
When Spencer opened his mouth as if to comment, Sarah stopped him with a quelling look. Instead he frowned, as did Richard. But this quickly changed with the arrival of Lady Fiona and Chadwick who were grinning as if they’d just been sharing a private joke. “What is it?” Spencer asked after eyeing them a moment.
Pressing her lips together, her eyes shimmering with mirth, Lady Fiona allowed Chadwick to answer. “I was just doing my impression of Lord Byron,” he said.
“The one where he discusses poetry with Prime Minister Jenkinson?” Spencer asked.
“The very one,” Chadwick said as he straightened his spine and brushed a piece of invisible lint from his jacket.
“You do both parts?” Richard asked.
Spencer nodded. “It is one of his best jokes, though I would caution you, Chadwick, not to do it in public since I’m not entirely certain that Jenkinson would approve of being laughed at.”
“It’s all in good sport,” Lady Fiona said. Having gathered her wits, she’d apparently decided to defend Chadwick even though he didn’t look the least bit concerned about Spencer’s comment.
“I would certainly like to hear it sometime,” Sarah said.
“As would I,” Mary agreed.
“Perhaps tomorrow when there are fewer people about?” Richard suggested.
Chadwick’s expression grew wary. “It’s more of an impromptu thing that I do on occasion when it feels right. I cannot promise that it will be equally good when planned. Especially not since your expectations at this point will probably exceed the performance.”
“If your delivery remains unchanged, then there is no doubt in my mind that they will find it equally amusing,” Lady Fiona said. She nudged Chadwick with her elbow, reminding everyone else that she was still a novice when it came to ballroom protocol.
Edging slightly away from her, Chadwick looked to Mary. “I was wondering if I might have the honor of dancing with the bride.”
She couldn’t help but chuckle in response to his flamboyant tone. “Spencer has just secured the cotillion and the waltz belongs to my husband, but perhaps a country dance?”
“Splendid!” Chadwick announced, accepting the dance card that Mary handed to him so he could scribble his name.
“It looks as though it is time for that cotillion you just mentioned,” Spencer said with a nod toward the dance floor. Stepping away from Sarah, he offered Mary his arm. Exchanging a loving gaze with Richard, she accepted and allowed her brother-in-law to lead her forward.
Richard watched her go, unable to resist smiling at the thought of the secret they shared. To think that Lucia Cavalani was presently dancing with his brother . . . The idea was too preposterous for words. Shaking his head, he didn’t even realize that Chadwick had secured the same dance with Sarah, leaving him alone with Fiona who was studying him with great interest.
“What is it?” she asked. “You look as though you are about to start laughing at any moment.”
“I’m just happy,” he said, hoping to leave it at that. “Knowing that I am married to the most wonderful woman in the world fills me with such joy, Fiona.”
She tilted her head slightly and looked toward Mary who was now laughing in response to something Chadwick had said. “I think you have chosen very well, Richard. She makes a fine addition to this family. Everyone agrees.”
“Everyone?”
“The rest of our sisters and Mama and Papa too. They are so thrilled for you, not to mention happy to have you back in our midst. Mama suffered greatly because of your self-imposed isolation.”
“I know,” he said, his heart a little heavier than before, “but it was unavoidable. I was desperately unhappy when I returned to England—furious too, as you can no doubt understand. It took a miracle for me to move past all of that.”
“In other words, it took Mary,” Fiona said. Her eyes danced with amusement as she looked up, meeting his gaze.
He gave her a concrete nod. “Precisely.”
A small pause followed while they watched the dancers. “I wonder who will be next to get married,” Fiona then said. “If this pattern continues, Rachel, Emily, and Laura will leave Thorncliff with husbands of their own.”
Richard slanted a look in Fiona’s direction. She was not standing still, as a young lady ought to. Instead, her foot was impatiently tapping the beat of the music. At eighteen years of age, it was clear that she had not yet let go of her childhood completely. And yet, her figure was undeniably that of a young woman. In fact, now that he really looked at her without being distracted by the silliness that often defined her character, there was no denying that she would soon turn the heads of countless gentlemen. With this in mind, he couldn’t help but ask, “What about you?”
With a dismissive snort she gave him a look of complete incredulity. “I have only just had my first Season so there is no rush as far as I am concerned. Besides, I can think of no man whom I would be able to tolerate for an indefinite amount of time and no man capable of tolerating me. Perhaps when I am older I will think differently about it?”
“Especially if the right man comes along,” Richard agreed.
Her gaze returned to the dance floor. “Do you know, I have always thought that Chadwick and Laura would be very well suited for each other.”
It took a second for Richard to process this idea. He looked toward his brother’s closest friend—the man who’d been part of the Heartly family for so long. “Chadwick and Laura?” Was Fiona really that clueless? “I was not aware that they favored each other’s company.”
“Perhaps I ought to do something about that,” Fiona murmured.
Raising an eyebrow, Richard turned to her. “Fiona, I have always liked Chadwick—ever since Spencer first brought him home with him from Eaton for the holidays—but having had no contact with him in recent years, I am curious to know what your opinion of him might be.” Hesitating briefly, he chose his next words carefully. “Now that you are older, you might be more aware of his character. In fact, it has not escaped my notice that you seem to enjoy his company quite a bit.”
She laughed at that. “Chadwick is hilarious, Richard. He has the ability to make eve
ryone laugh, which when you think about it, is quite a rare talent. As for my opinion of him, I like him very well indeed and have always considered him a brother.”
Richard said nothing further. He simply wondered how long it would take for Fiona to realize that the relationship she had with Chadwick was very different from what she thought it to be. Indeed, the look in Chadwick’s eye when she’d nudged him and the way in which he’d added distance between them, was telling. Making a mental note to mention it to Spencer, Richard waited for his wife to return from the dance floor, her eyes sparking with emotion the moment they met his.
Later, after supper had been eaten and the waltz had been danced, Richard escorted Mary over to the music room where they were joined by Sarah, Spencer, Chloe, Stonegate and Lady Duncaster. Having taken their seats, they waited expectantly for their hostess to tell them why she’d asked them to join her.
“Since your arrival,” Lady Duncaster began, her gaze traveling to each of them in turn, “you have discovered something relating to the past. I think it might be time for you to share these discoveries with each other if there is to be any hope of ever finding the box that the late Earl of Oakland came here to retrieve.”
Spencer leaned forward. “The one my grandmother wrote of in her diary? You have proof that it is here?”
Lady Duncaster looked to Richard and nodded for him to continue. He turned to his brother. “Before we were married, my wife and I discovered an underground villa that can be accessed from the tunnels beneath Thorncliff.”
“An underground villa?” Chloe looked thoroughly intrigued.
“It appears to have been built by Romans originally, but seems to have been used in more recent years by The Cardinals as some sort of base.” Realizing he was jumping ahead, Richard closed his eyes for a moment before explaining, “The Third Earl of Duncaster, our late grandfather, and Grand Mama’s sister, the Duchess of Marveille, were working against an evil organization known as The Electors during the time of the French Revolution.”
His Scandalous Kiss: Secrets at Thorncliff Manor: 6 Page 29
