Married to the Marquess

by Rebecca Connolly

  But he could not think much beyond that acknowledgement, for all thought and sense was swept away under the wave of astonishment at the appearance of the exquisite creature that was now entering. She was his wife, it was indeed Kate, but never had he dreamed his wife could look as she did now.

  Her ebony hair was so elegantly arranged that he had to wonder how many hours it had taken, and if the pins scattered within knew just how fortunate they were. Loose ringlets hung near her ears and face, and one long ringlet in particular hung draped over one shoulder. Immediately he wanted to twirl it around his finger and bring it to his cheek.

  He had never seen the gown she was wearing, and suddenly that became his chief regret in life. It was still a gown of dark mourning colors, as was appropriate, but the dark, silvery fabric seemed created for his wife’s form and coloring, and instead of looking solemn and somber, she looked majestic, elegant, and breathtakingly beautiful. Her only accouterment besides the subdued pins in her hair was the black ribbon at her throat, and the simplicity supplied her with an air of grace that he had never witnessed before.

  In short, Derek was stunned beyond imagination, and the only thing that seemed appropriate was the embarrassingly obvious whoosh of air that fled his lungs all at once.

  He could not even be upset at Diana’s snickering from beside him. Her hand slid from his arm, and where she went, he didn’t know, nor did he care. He could not remove his eyes from his wife as she moved about the room greeting guests. Her eyes flicked over to him frequently, but never raised enough to meet his. He was oddly glad. He wanted to enjoy staring blatantly at her without having to endure the power of her eyes at the same time.

  “Holy mother of pearl,” he heard Colin whisper rather loudly not too far away, followed rather rapidly by a sharp rapping against his chest, courtesy of either Nathan or Duncan, Derek could not be sure which.

  He agreed with every word.

  “Do close your mouth, Derek,” he heard Moira say from his side in a voice that was choked with laughter. “One would think you have never seen your wife before.”

  “I haven’t,” he managed hoarsely. “I can’t have.”

  “Well, go and talk to her, you troll, before you lose your tongue,” she laughed, pushing him to where Kate was now, speaking with Mary and Geoff.

  In a daze, he made his way to her, and as if she could sense him coming, she turned towards him, her eyes finally meeting his. The insecurity was there, but only for him to see, and it was mingled with excitement and pleasure at his reaction. “Good evening, Derek,” she said softly, smiling just a bit.

  He swallowed and returned her smile, taking her hand in his. “Good evening, Kate.” He stepped a bit closer, his eyes flicking to Geoff and Mary, who instantly looked rather interested in the painting behind them. “I haven’t seen you all day.”

  “We had breakfast,” she said with a quirk of her brow.

  Was she teasing him? The little minx. He loved it. “That was hours ago. What have you done all day?”

  Her smile stretched at the edges of her cheeks, and suddenly he noticed a small dimple in her left. It was now officially his favorite thing about her. For the time being. “I spent much of the day with Alice. Then I was forced into my room by my own personal musketeers, and I have not seen the light of day since.” She fussed at her dress just a bit, touched her hair self-consciously. “I feel just a little bit ridiculous,” she confessed in a whisper, but smiling still.

  He shook his head. “Don’t.” He brought her hand up and placed a soft kiss on the inside of her wrist, his eyes never leaving hers. “You look wonderful.”

  “Really?” she asked, looking absurdly pleased, if a little breathless.

  He nodded, not trusting himself to speak more.

  Suddenly noticing how everyone in the room was watching them, they both stepped back. “I should get Gemma,” Kate said with a slight toss of her hair, which bounced lightly as she did so. “We ought to perform early before we go in to dinner.”

  “Yes, of course,” Derek said quickly with a nod. “Diana wanted to know if you would allow Mary to sing with the two of you.”

  Kate looked surprised. “Mary sings?”

  “Apparently,” he replied, shrugging. “And does not require practice either. The challenge is convincing her to perform.”

  “Well, if I can, she can,” Kate said firmly, looking rather determined. “And if Diana thinks she ought to, then I am inclined to believe it.”

  “You are quite fearsome when you look that way, you know that?”

  She grinned. “I am quite fearsome, Lord Whitlock. Haven’t you learned that yet?”

  She walked away to speak with Mary before he could respond, but his mind did so anyway. He did know it.

  She had no idea just how well.

  “I cannot believe the change in Katherine, Derek,” Diana said, coming back to his side. “And I am not talking about just her appearance. Look at how open she is with the company! Look at how she smiles! It’s remarkable!”

  “Yes,” he said gruffly, shaking off his stupor, “she is coming along rather well, isn’t she?”

  He could tell the moment he said it that it was the wrong thing to say. Diana went still and silent, and he could feel her coldness. “You are a pompous prig, you know that?”

  “Excuse me?” he retorted, turning to meet her furious expression.

  She must have seen something in his eyes, for she gave him a bit of a wry smile. “Do you really think she is the only one who needs to change?” With a knowing quirk of her brows, she swept away to rejoin her husband.

  Derek watched her go, feeling confused. Change? Couldn’t she see that he already had?

  He felt different. He was different. No longer did he search for things to exploit about Kate. No longer did he want to insult her, or mock her to his friends, or avoid the merest hint of her. He was, in fact, finding that more and more he was searching for a reason to be near her, to compliment her, to think of her.

  Did he like her?

  Yes. Yes, he did.

  “Derek?”

  He jerked at the sound of his own name, and Nathan stood there, not three feet from him, looking curious. “What?”

  “The music,” he said, pointing behind Derek where the pianoforte sat, and where Kate, Gemma, and Mary were situating themselves.

  “They convinced Mary to participate,” Derek commented unnecessarily.

  “Yes, between your wife, my wife, Gemma, and Geoff, I don’t think she stood much of a chance,” Nathan laughed, leading the way to some of the open seats. He sat next to Moira, but left space for Derek beside him.

  Derek shook his head and chose to stand behind instead, feeling slightly nervous himself all of a sudden. Kate was good; she was very, very good. But as yet, she had only ever performed for him. Could she handle the pressure that was now upon her? Would the other two measure up to her talent, or would they, heaven forbid, overshadow her?

  Steady, Derek, Diana’s words echoed in his mind, but in his own voice.

  Steady. Yes, he could be steady. For Kate.

  When everyone was situated, Kate offered a small smile directed at him, and suddenly the butterflies in his stomach intensified, and it was all he could do to smile back in encouragement. Then, with a glance at the other two, who nodded, she began to play.

  The sweet notes of the pianoforte lit the room, or so it seemed, and so beautiful was the sound that Derek felt his nerves disappear and he sighed in relief. Gemma joined in with her violin shortly thereafter, and, just as it had the other day, the combination struck him more powerfully than any song he could recall in his entire life. The skill of both women was beyond impressive and, though he had heard them before, it felt as though it was a new experience for him.

  When Mary started to sing with the instruments, all time seemed to stop. Never had any persons present imagined that the tall, fairly plain woman would possess a voice so pure, so rich and ethereal. Derek literally felt the hairs
on the back of his neck stand on end as the trio continued, each seeming lost in her part, yet they all blended together so perfectly that it became difficult to determine any individual component apart from the others.

  The music swelled and faded, flourished and diminished, and each rise and fall took the audience with it. Derek watched his wife in amazement, feeling as though every note somehow came directly from her, as if she were the creator, musician, and artist behind it all. She looked so alive, so joyous as she played, and so composed and comfortable, as if she had been born to play.

  He felt himself choke up as the song finished, and as he looked around, he saw that he was not the only one to do so. Applause broke out from everyone, and the three women stood, took their bows, and looked appropriately embarrassed by the attention. A quick scan of the room told Derek that of all present, only Geoff looked the way he felt; as if he had been kicked in the chest by a particularly swarthy mule, and had been ever so grateful for the injury.

  Derek brought his eyes back to his incredible wife, who looked at him earnestly, as if for confirmation of her apparent success. Unable to speak above the applause, and doubting he could have if he wanted to, he nodded once, and then again, and again, and smiled proudly.

  She sighed, and he caught just a glimpse of a tear in her eyes. Then she smiled, and the smile that spread across her face was one of profound relief, deep pleasure, and, yes, a little well-deserved pride.

  He would never forget that smile as long as he lived.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Much later that night, after all of their friends had departed, after all of the laughter had ceased, after his sister had given him enough meaningful looks to last him three lifetimes, Derek nearly flung himself onto the sofa in the drawing room with a groan. It had been some time since he had entertained, and he had forgotten how draining it could be. Though everybody that had attended had either been family or close friend, and there were not that many of them to begin with, he was exceptionally thankful to have them gone.

  A softer, but no less relieved groan came from across the room, and he opened his eyes to see Kate sinking into a chair as well. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes, then kicked her slippers off and stretched her stockinged toes against the rug.

  He grinned at her actions. The old Katherine would never have done anything of the sort. The very idea would have appalled her. He loved the fact that she could not only think it now, but actually do it.

  This new wife of his was continually surprising him, some days so much so that he could barely remember the old one. It seemed so strange that they were one and the same, that this version had hibernated beneath the old.

  The other surprising notion was just how very much he enjoyed being near her. More and more he wanted to be with her and no one else. His friends, though amusing and supportive and loyal, could not hold a candle to her. And for a man such as him, who had always stood by his friends and valued their company, it was disconcerting.

  But pleasantly so.

  “What are you doing all the way over there?” he asked with a tired smile.

  “Resting,” she replied, not even cracking an eyelid in his direction.

  “Come and rest over here. There is plenty of room.”

  “Is it as comfortable as this chair?”

  His smile widened. “More so. There is a life sized pillow over here.”

  A hint of a smile quirked at a corner of Kate’s full lips, but she only shrugged her shoulders, then lightly pushed herself out of the chair and, leaving her slippers where they lay on the floor, she sat next to him on the sofa. Derek had a devil of a time keeping his smile in check, and felt like a much younger man, all excitable and anxious.

  He was turning into quite the puppy.

  “I don’t believe this is as comfortable as you indicated,” Kate said airily after a moment of silence, frowning just a bit. “I think my chair was far better.”

  She moved to get off of the sofa, but Derek was lightning quick to seize her arm and hold her fast. “That,” he informed her in a would-be serious tone, “is because you have neglected one crucial element.”

  Kate looked down at his hold on her arm, then gave him a look, raising one brow imperiously. “Have I?”

  He nodded sagely. “You forgot about the pillow.”

  “Ah,” she replied with a nod in return. “How very remiss of me.”

  “But that is easily remedied,” he allowed, releasing her arm, and setting his own along the back of the sofa. He then looked at her rather invitingly. “See? Everything is all prepared.”

  “So it is,” she said, giving him a shy smile as she slowly leaned back into his hold, and nestled her head onto his shoulder.

  Swallowing back a sudden appearance of nerves, he dropped his arm to encompass her shoulders. When she moved just the tiniest bit closer, he mentally cheered, making him feel even more the giddy fool than he already did.

  But honestly, what man on earth did not want to have a beautiful woman in his arms? Especially when the beautiful woman in question was his wife?

  He felt justified in his stupidity.

  “Is it always going to be this exhausting?” Kate asked softly, losing the teasing, confident air of only moments before.

  “What are you talking about?” He had long since lost any idea of previous conversations and his focus was entirely elsewhere.

  “Hosting events.”

  He leaned his head against the back of the sofa and sighed. “I don’t know. I hope not. We only entertained a small number of people we know and love tonight, and I feel as though I have been dragged behind a carriage. I have no idea what we are going to do when we have to host things for the vast number of people we don’t like or couldn’t care less about.”

  Kate found Derek’s free hand and almost hesitantly laced her fingers into his, and the jolt that shot up his arm and into his chest left him just a little bit breathless. Gingerly, he began stroking the top of her hand with his thumb. It was an oddly soothing thing to do, and yet again, he found himself whirling.

  “I just hope I can do things perfectly,” she said quietly, playing with his fingers, not looking at him. “I don’t want to let anybody down.”

  Her admission stunned him. She had been the ideal future duchess their entire marriage, and had only lacked an open personality. Now she had that as well; truly, there was nothing left but for her to be perfect. “Kate, look at me,” he murmured, wanting to take her chin in hand, but not willing to let go of her fingers to do so.

  She eventually brought her eyes to meet his and he tightened his hold on her shoulders. “You were perfect tonight. I was extremely proud of you.”

  “You were?”

  He nodded slowly. “You played brilliantly, you conversed with grace and ease, you looked every bit the gracious hostess, and quite frankly, you lit up the room.”

  Kate blushed and dropped her gaze. “Oh, please, Derek, I hardly did any of that.”

  “You did,” he said firmly. “You were in such fine form tonight, Kate, that it brought comment. Everybody was impressed.”

  “Really?” she asked eagerly, looking back up at him. “Who?”

  “Diana, Edward, Nathan, Geoffrey, Colin…”

  “Colin?” she interrupted with surprise. “Really?”

  Derek grinned. “Really. I’m afraid you have stunned him into complete fealty, Kate. You could knock him over with a blink and he would love it.”

  A satisfied smirk lit her face and she giggled. “I hardly expected to ever turn him to my side. I shall enjoy this, I think. I have always wanted a minion.”

  “Poor Colin.”

  “Who else?” she demanded, poking him just a bit. “Who else did I impress?”

  He laughed and batted away her finger. “Everyone, all right? Every single person was complimentary and impressed and thought you did a marvelous job.”

  She grinned and settled herself against him again, her other hand now joining the first in t
oying with his. “What about you, Derek?” she asked in a soft voice. “Did I impress you?”

  “Yes,” he whispered, pulling her in closer. “Yes, Kate, you did.”

  She looked up at him once more, and it seemed that time stood still. Unable to resist the power that was continually drawing him to her, Derek leaned down and brought his lips to hears, still gentle and light, giving her every opportunity she would need to pull away if she so desired.

  He was ready to break away, to cut off this magical connection between them, to regain some semblance of sense and thought, when he both heard and felt a soft sigh escape her.

  Then he was lost.

  Fingers trembling, he took his hand from her shoulders and threaded his fingers into her hair, scattering a few pins. He ventured to take the kiss a little further, to put a little more of himself into it, to let her feel just how much he was coming to feel for her without voicing the words aloud. He felt her soft, shaking fingers touch his jaw, felt her lips mold to his more perfectly, and his hold in her hair clenched ever so slightly.

  “Derek,” she breathed, breaking off with a gasp, her hand still on his face.

  “What?” he rasped, leaving his lips exactly where they had been at the juncture of her mouth and cheek.

  “We have to stop.”

  He smiled, nuzzling her ever so slightly. “Why? Are there servants in here now?” he teased, pressing a few scattered kisses to her jaw.

  “No,” she gasped, pushing at him, “it’s the door.”

  He froze momentarily, ears training on the door, and, sure enough, there was a thundering at their front door. How in the blazes had he missed that before?

  He pulled back and they stared at each other in confusion, both more than a little breathless. “Who could that possibly be this late at night?” he growled.

  “No idea,” she said, shaking her head.

  “Derek!” bellowed the knocker. “Derek, open up!”

  Derek groaned, and touched his forehead to Kate’s. “Oh, no.”

  “What? Who is it?”

  “David.”