“Do you?” he asked, leaning forward again.
She nodded. “You’ll like being in my family, I think.”
She saw him start, a visible shake trembling down his body. “Your family?”
She cocked her head to the side, giving him a long look. “Yes. My family. You gained three sisters-in-law today and three brothers-in-law too. I dare say they will be better brothers to you than your own, especially considering they are your business partners.”
His hand swiped down his face. “Jesus bloody Christ, they became my brothers today…”
“Yes, Blasphemy, they did.”
He grimaced. “Don’t call me that.”
“Then don’t curse like that,” she fired back. If she were going to take on the burden of his happiness, the way Eliza did for her, Abigail would also take on her sister’s bossiness. That was a mantle, she had to confess, she’d enjoy.
His jaw tightened. “Fair enough.”
She leaned forward taking his hand into hers. “Chad.”
“Abby,” he said as he leaned forward, reaching for her other hand too. She slipped her gloved hand into his.
“Why don’t you like it when I use that name? Blasphemy.”
He tried to pull his hands from hers, but she held fast.
“I don’t know.”
Abigail didn’t believe him, not for a second.
* * *
He was lying…again.
Chad made another halfhearted attempt to pull his hands from Abigail’s, but she had them in a rather tight grip.
“Abby,” he said again. But this time, it came out with a warning note, low and gravelly.
She didn’t take the warning. Instead, she arched a brow. “Chad.” Then her little pink tongue darted out to wet her lips. It laid him low every time she performed that little gesture. “Why don’t you like it when I call you Blasphemy?”
What did he say? That he didn’t deserve her? That he’d stolen her and her dowry because she was in a desperate situation. That the way he’d married her only confirmed he was exactly like the rest of his family. “That man isn’t a worthy husband.”
“Oh.”
Her grip eased and he took that opportunity to slip his hands from hers. Because the intimacy only underscored how undeserving he was of her hand. Of this match.
The carriage rumbled to a stop and Abigail flicked open the curtain, leaning over to look out the window. “Are we stopping for the night?”
“We are,” he answered, studying her profile. The perfect straightness of her nose. The pale pink of her full lips. The creaminess of her skin and how a rosy color, on the apples of her cheeks, highlighted her high cheekbones.
Her fingers were long and tapered and touched the curtain with such delicate grace that he actually ached. He wanted her hand to touch him like that.
He didn’t deserve that sort of gentle grace. He knew that. But he wished for it anyhow. Even now, he wanted to run his fingers down the curve of her cheek, over her jaw, and down her neck.
He snapped open the door and climbed out, reaching back in to help his bride down. She was right. The dress was dreadful, and he needed to provide a new wardrobe for her posthaste.
After helping her inside, he stood at the desk, and waited for the innkeeper.
Vanity stepped in behind them. “Can you secure me a room? I’ve got a few errands I need to attend.”
Chad looked back at him. “Errands? Here?”
Vanity only winked.
What was his friend about?
But he didn’t ask as the innkeeper hustled out from one of the private dining rooms.
“Can I help you, sir?’
He straightened, frowning. His brother would have loudly declared that he was a titled lord and should be treated as such. Chad had never liked such garish displays, perhaps because he’d never expected to have the opportunity. “The baroness and I are hoping to secure two rooms in addition to a third, for my friend, The Viscount of Waverly.”
The man skidded to a stop, his eyes widening. “You are the baron, my lord?”
“I am.” He shifted, and Abigail squeezed his arm in comfort.
“My apologies then,” the man said quietly. “I’ve only got two rooms left. It’s our busy season with everyone travelling in and out of London and—”
“Two will have to do,” Abigail said next to him as she cleared her throat.
Chad bit back a sigh. He hadn’t even managed to secure his wife a room. Blast.
“We’d like to reserve a dining room for dinner as well.”
The man gave a nod and reached for the last two keys hanging from hooks on the wall. Chad pulled his rather light purse from his belt and placed the necessary coin on the table.
“Shall we wait in the common room or upstairs?” Abigail asked from next to him, her fingers lightly playing on his biceps.
“Let’s take ourselves up to our room. There’ll be more opportunity for discussion.”
She nodded and they moved up the stairs to their room.
But once they were there, silence fell between them.
Abigail sat by the window even as he stretched out on the bed. He’d married her this morning. This was to be their wedding night.
Automatically his hand pressed to the mattress, testing the tautness of the ropes.
“Tired?” Abigail asked from her spot by the window.
He had been. But quite suddenly, he felt spritely again. “I’m fine. You?”
“Exhausted,” she murmured. “Do you think my sisters and cousin are all safe?”
He grimaced. She must be terribly worried. “I think they’re fine. Bash had an excellent plan.”
“And our business? We’ve all but abandoned it.”
He wasn’t able to answer as a knock sounded at the door. “Who is it?”
“It’s me,” Vanity called. “I need my key and I’ve got something for the baroness.”
Chad tried not to growl as he pushed off the bed. Another bouquet of flowers?
But as he crossed the room and opened the door, he saw that Vanity held a box in his hand. “What is that?”
Vanity winked. “It’s a dress. I saw a modiste and it turned out, she is nearly the same size as your new wife. That is to say, she’s rather well endowed with a—”
Chad rumbled low and deep as he gruffly said, “See you take care what you notice about my wife.”
But Vanity didn’t look the least bit intimidated. In fact, his smile grew. “Enjoy your evening, my friend. I’ll be taking my meal in my room.” Vanity handed him the box and turned to leave. But just before Chad closed the door, Vanity held out his hand, stopping him. “You’ve forgotten the key.”
“Of course,” he answered as he opened the door again. Vanity stepped into the room. Abigail had stood, and her eyes strayed to the box that Chad now held. His breath rushed from his lungs. Was she excited by the package?
He should have thought to buy her a new dress.
Not that he had the funds for that. The whole reason he’d agreed to this match in the first place was to support his financially ailing barony.
They’d left in such a rush, he’d yet to work out the details with Bash. What he had would have to do for now. Which wasn’t much. At least when they arrived at his estate, he could operate on some amount of credit.
Bad investments on his father’s part and gambling debts on his brother’s had drained the funds. In fact, he’d made financial gains, but shame suddenly filled him that he’d not done a better job of providing for his new bride.
It seemed to underscore that he hadn’t a clue how to be a good husband.
Chad grabbed the key from the side table next to the bed, even as he set down the box.
Vanity looked from Chad to Abigail, his eyebrows rising. Chad’s frown deepened. He could practically hear Vanity’s thoughts. He and Abigail didn’t look like a happy couple.
Vanity took the key from his hand and turned toward the door. “You two should a
lso dine here in your room. Some alone time will give you a chance to get to know one another.”
“Thanks,” Chad gritted out. He wasn’t certain he wanted his friend’s advice. He knew that Vanity understood how to please Abigail far better than himself but that didn’t make him want to listen to his friend. In fact, he’d like to punch him. Right in his perfect nose.
Chapter Nine
Abigail cocked her head as she studied her husband. She sensed the change in him. He was irritated by the box, or his friend, or both.
Another knock sounded at the door, but Vanity, rather than Chad, opened the panel and waved a serving girl forward, her arms loaded up with a tray of food.
They’d had a late breakfast, but that had been hours ago and as the scent of savory beef stew wafted toward her, her mouth began to water.
Vanity looked back at her. “I took the liberty of ordering dinner for you both. I hope you enjoy.” And then he left.
The serving girl slid the tray on a small table and then also turned, leaving Chad and Abigail alone with a tray of food and…the box.
Chad had barely taken his eyes off it and he was glaring at the lid, currently closed with a ribbon.
“Snakes?” she asked, crossing over to where he stood next to the bed.
“What?” He looked up at her, his eyes growing a touch wider as though she’d surprised him.
“In the box. Is it filled with snakes? Locusts? You’re glaring at it as though it’s a harbinger of doom.”
His mouth pressed into a thin line. “Why don’t you open it and see?”
She was next to him now and she could feel his heat seeping through her sleeve. “I don’t think I dare.”
His hand came to her back and he lowered his head to hers. “It’s perfectly safe for you. In fact, I suspect the contents will be rather enjoyable. It only means doom for me.”
That didn’t make any sense at all. She hadn’t been able to hear the two men whispering. And now, she had to confess, she was curious what had caused such discord in her husband. “Shall we eat first?”
“No,” he grimaced. “Let’s get it over with.”
“That bad?” She reached over, flicking the ribbon open and then lifting the lid. A dark blue riding habit was neatly folded in the box. It was simple enough, but she could tell the moment she lifted it up that it was a far better fit than the one she wore. Underneath was a night rail, pantaloons, and stockings.
Chad groaned as he too reached down and picked one of them up. “He thought of everything.”
She lay the dress back down on the bed as she looked at the one she wore. The one she’d denigrated earlier, and she began to understand what had him upset. “If we’re adding columns of pluses and minuses, he provided this one as well. In all its glory.”
One corner of his mouth perked up, but his eyes still looked sad. “It is a rather ugly dress, and yet, he still provided it for you.”
She nibbled on her lip because that was the truth though not how she’d intended it. “We should eat. It’s getting late; it’s been a long day and we’ve another tomorrow.”
“Right,” he answered, turning away from the box. His hand came to her back again as they stepped back over to the small table.
They ate their dinner quietly and, at least for Abigail, the food did wonders to improve her mood.
As they finished, she stretched.
“It’s growing dark. Perhaps we’ll retire in a few? I can step out into the hall and give you some time to wash and dress for bed.”
Bed…
How had she not realized that she was facing her wedding night? The very thing she’d denied him yesterday.
Her breath caught as she nodded. He reached for the tray, carrying it out the door with him, and suddenly, she was in the room alone.
For just a moment, she sat still, looking at the door, wondering what to do first.
But then she jumped from her seat stripping off the brown dress as quickly as she could. Off came the rest of her clothes, which she neatly folded into a pile. They belonged to a woman who’d likely wish for them back.
Then she crossed to the washing bowl and scrubbed herself as best she could. She’d pay a great deal of money for a bath at this moment but…
Washing done, she skidded across the floor on bare feet, then grabbed the new night rail and slid the crisp, clean fabric over her head. Tucking the rest of the new clothes in the box, she set it to the floor and dove under the covers.
Another five minutes passed before Chad stepped back into the room.
She had the covers pulled up to her chin, but at the sight of him, she dropped the rough blankets a bit lower to study him.
He winked at her as he stripped off his coat.
Then his shirt.
She swallowed as she watched him undo his boots. The sight of him shirtless once again sent her insides spinning and tumbling.
She was nervous, certainly.
He was a rake, and in addition to worrying about her inexperience, the possible pain, and the embarrassment of a man seeing her nude, she was also worried that he’d quickly lose interest in her.
But she drew in a trembling breath. She wanted love. Always had. But in her heart, she knew she had to give love in order to receive it.
And so she dropped the covers even further and watched as he began to wash his upper half.
She covered her heart with her hand, feeling the way it beat faster. And then, he pulled down his breeches. At the sight of his muscular backside, she let out a gasp.
* * *
Chad had lost any modesty long ago. He’d been in a fair number of women’s bedrooms. And he’d heard several of them gasp, mostly in appreciation.
But with her gasp, he realized that perhaps stripping in front of a virgin had been a bit…insensitive.
What was his problem today? Why couldn’t he seem to get anything right with her?
Despite the cold air, his palms were damp. Was he nervous?
Bloody hell, he was a fool.
The one thing he actually brought to this match was a knowledge of pleasuring a woman. But even that was failing him.
He looked back over his shoulder and she burrowed back under the covers, her large brown eyes peeking out at him from under the covers. Her hair still hung in her simple braid from this morning. The long, thick rope of it lying on the blankets.
He’d already committed to stripping off his pants. He wasn’t putting them on again. “Close your eyes.”
She snapped her lids shut, squeezing them tight. That made him smile as he crossed the room. As he reached for the covers, he stopped, trailing his fingers along the silky braid instead. “Move over.”
She did, sliding to the farthest edge of the bed, her eyes still pressed closed.
He slid under the covers, the bed already starting to warm from her body.
He wasn’t a man who usually liked to share his bed space. But tonight, he was cold and exhausted, and she was so pleasantly warm and soft. “Come here,” he murmured and reached for her waist, pulling her against his much larger frame.
She was stiff and he could feel her nervous energy seeping into him. They needed to consummate their marriage. And yet…this had been the least romantic wedding day of all time. Taking her in a tiny room in an inn just felt wrong.
“Chad?” she asked, her body still rigid. “I don’t know what to do. Until the other night, I’d never even kissed a man. I…”
“Hush,” he whispered. “And relax against me, sweetheart. Today has been…” He sighed. “Awful.”
“Maybe a little,” she replied, and she started to relax, her curves pressing into his.
“I don’t know about you, but I am tired deep down in my bones.” He wrapped an arm about her waist, amazed at how well she fit into the hollow of his body.
“I am too.” And to his amazement, she snuggled deeper into him.
He buried his nose in her hair. “Tonight, sweetheart, let’s just…” What? Sleep?
His chest tightened with emotion. She wanted to make him happy? Who had ever wanted to do that? Even the women he slept with were more concerned with the pleasure he provided. Granted, he always took his own. “I appreciate that.”
“But,” she started, and he grimaced. There was always a but. “I’m not entirely certain how.”
He nearly laughed but just managed to suppress the sound. “Pleasing a man isn’t all that difficult. Trust me, sweetheart, you’ll please me. It’s me that should be worried.”
“Oh,” she turned back to look at him, her large eyes meeting his and tugging at his chest. “Will it feel like our kiss? Because that was wonderful.”
He reached up, cupping her cheek with his hand and running his thumb along her cheekbone. “It will feel much better.”
Her eyes widened. “Really?”
He gave her a small grin at that. “Really. But tonight…I think you should get some sleep.”
Her lips parted, whether to say something or in surprise, he wasn’t certain, but he promptly forgot how exhausted he was as he saw the invitation her mouth presented. He groaned as he leaned forward and placed a feather-light kiss on her lips.
Her eyes fluttered closed, her long lashes brushing his cheek. “What happens after?” she said against his lips.
“After what?”
“After…” She drew in a deep breath. “After you don’t want me like you do now.”
He jerked his head back, his jaw hardening. She was right, of course. He’d had every intention of returning to his previous life. But he couldn’t even consider that tonight. With her here in his arms he wanted…
He wished to protect her.
Make her happy too.
“Who says I won’t want you…after?” He’d almost said always.
She turned then, her front coming to his. His body, already tingling from the press of her, jolted into complete awareness. “Will you?”
Two words. Just a simple question but so direct…he didn’t know. “I…” Did he promise her he would and risk breaking his word?
Baron of Blasphemy Page 6
