by Laura Landon
An emotion Nellie had never felt before swirled through her as if the blood racing through her veins was suddenly a molten heat. Her heartbeat quickened. Her stomach shifted as if a thousand butterflies had taken frantic flight.
She wanted to show restraint, but that was impossible. He continued to kiss her, and for some reason she couldn’t explain, it was important that she get as close to him as possible.
She leaned into his hard, muscular body, and he tightened his hold on her, then brought her closer to him.
He kissed her again, then separated himself from her. His palm cupped her cheek. Then, with a deep moan, he brought his lips down on hers and kissed her again.
His kisses deepened as if he wanted more from her, as if there was more he could give her. His hands moved over her body, leaving a fiery trail, and she lifted one hand and raked her fingers through his thick, silky hair.
Nellie heard another moan, only this time the low keening sound came from her.
“Nellie,” he muttered, then kissed her once more before he lifted his lips from hers. He brought her close to him and held her as if he knew she would fall if he didn’t support her. “Bloody hell,” he whispered in a soft voice she was sure he didn’t want her to hear.
She didn’t know what he meant. She’d thought the kisses they’d shared had been the most magical moments of her life. But she wasn’t sure he thought the same. Perhaps he’d been disappointed.
She wouldn’t know, though. He was quiet as he led her back to the house. When they reached the ballroom, he didn’t let her enter first so people wouldn’t know they’d been together, but walked in with her on his arm.
Every pair of eyes in the room seemed to open wide when they saw the two of them together. Every jaw on every face seemed to drop.
And every hand cupped to their mouth as they whispered their shock and disbelief.
Nellie looked up, expecting to see a mortified expression on Hugh’s face. Instead, he looked down on her and . . . smiled.
Chapter 9
The next three weeks were a whirlwind of activity. Nellie wasn’t sure she would survive the attention focused on her.
Hugh’s father, the Marquess of Bentingham, refused to allow them to marry by special license. He was adamant that marrying by special license would put a cloud of scandal over their marriage, even though there was no reason for the rushed affair. Therefore, the banns were read for three consecutive Sundays.
The immediate bond she felt with Hugh’s father was the greatest comfort to her—greater even than the support of her sisters who rallied to her every need. The marquess and his wife made several stipulations concerning the time, place, number of guests, and numerous other details. For the sake of peace and harmony, Nellie and Hugh acquiesced to most of their demands.
The one mandate both Nellie and Hugh refused to give in to was the suggestion of a large, public wedding. Hugh even threatened to take her and run away to Scotland if his parents didn’t change their ultimatum for what he called a public circus.
Nellie wasn’t used to being the focus of attention as she now was. Everywhere she went, women stared at her as if they couldn’t believe Lord Wythers had of his own volition agreed to marry her. They studied her as if trying to figure out what Lord Wythers could possibly see in her. She was a constant topic of conversation as every marrying mama searched for whatever it was that had made Lord Wythers choose such a plain-looking woman for his bride. In the end, rumor had it that he must have had a lapse in sanity that made him offer for her. Or that perhaps he was being coerced. Even blackmailed.
The embarrassment of it all would have had her slinking about in the corners if not for her secret weapon. In moments when she overheard the ridiculous tittle-tattle, she merely harkened back to the garden, the invigorating night air, and his thrilling kiss. The sheer memory of it brightened her face, lit her eyes, lifted her chin, and made her feel as if she were walking on air.
But by the end of the first week’s hullabaloo, Nellie was ready to call off the engagement and search for another remedy that would keep Colette and Franklin at Lyman Estate. However, things had already progressed too far to call off the wedding.
Her sisters tried to be as supportive as possible. Each in her own way tried to reassure Nellie that everything would work out splendidly. They were reeling with Colette and Franklin’s good fortune, and yet they knew something wasn’t right. But how could Nellie tell them what it was without word getting back to Colette?
Then, the week before the wedding, the Marquess and Marchioness of Bentingham hosted a grand ball to introduce Nellie as their son’s future wife. No one in London dared to miss the event. By the time the last of the guests arrived, it was a confirmed fact that no one in Society had ever seen such a crush. Even the Dowager Duchess of Palmsbury was in attendance. Rumor had it that she had risen from her deathbed to be there.
How Nellie survived the ball was still a mystery to her. How she’d survived the following days until her wedding was a greater enigma. And how she’d survived the wedding this morning and the wedding breakfast that followed was an unsolvable conundrum. Nellie considered it an outright miracle. Only her stalwart determination and God’s divine help allowed her to get through the most challenging hours of her life.
But in truth, moments of it had been singularly glorious. The wedding gown she’d chosen under the guidance of the kind marchioness seemed to have transforming powers. It rustled in the most beguiling way as she stepped down the aisle. Her slippers peeked prettily from beneath the shimmering gown, and beneath the pearl-studded veil she had almost felt . . . beautiful.
Her father beamed as he led her step by step up the long aisle. She saw nothing, heard none of the whispers as she passed, focusing only on what awaited her at the altar.
His smile.
“Are you relieved it’s over?” Hugh asked from beside her in the carriage.
They’d been on the road to Red Oaks Estate for nearly an hour, and Nellie’s breathing was finally slowing.
“Yes. Are you?”
He smiled, then laughed. “It was quite an event, wasn’t it?”
“Yes.” Nellie turned to face him. “Do you regret the decision we made?”
“To marry?”
“Yes.”
“No. I only regret that both of us were put through such an uncomfortable ordeal. It’s not what either of us wanted.”
They rode in silence for a little while, then Nellie asked the question she’d wanted to ask since they set out. “What will happen now? How long will you remain at Red Oaks?”
“At least a week. Perhaps two. To return before then would cause talk.”
“I imagine so,” she added. “Especially when you return sans your wife.”
He turned his head to focus his gaze on her. “Will you be all right here alone?”
His words caused a knot to clench in the pit of her stomach. His attitude toward her was not what she thought it would be. His concern for her was not something she could allow.
The arrangement they’d made had for the most part been her idea. They each had a specific lifestyle they wanted to lead—she an estate to manage, he enough money to remain in London and continue the way of life he’d lived since returning from the war. And that was exactly what they would both have.
Except she didn’t consider that emotions might play a role in their bargain. She couldn’t allow the man she’d married to become anything more than a business partner. If he continued to show concern for her welfare, he would destroy the wall she’d erected around her heart. He would become more important to her than she could allow.
“Hugh . . .” She stopped. “May I call you Hugh?”
“Of course.”
“Very well.” Nellie clenched her hands in her lap. “Hugh . . . I think it’s important that we reach an understanding before we reach Red Oaks.”
“Oh,” he said with a smile. “An understanding other than our previous understandings? That sounds seriou
s.”
“It is.” She paused. “I would like to remind you of the bargain we struck. That bargain indicated that you would allow me to manage your estate. And that I would make Red Oaks profitable.”
He studied her with a look of confusion on his face. “That is correct,” he said. “So what concerns do you have?”
Nellie tightened the grip on her fingers in her lap. What she had to say was more difficult than she thought it would be. “The one thing that was not a part of our bargain was how we might feel for each other.”
“Are you saying you do not care for me?”
“What I am saying is that I cannot allow myself to care for you. Just as you cannot concern yourself with my welfare.”
“But you are my wife.”
“We are wedded to each other, yes, but that is where our attachment ends. You are not responsible for me. I cannot allow you to feel responsible for me.”
“May I ask why?”
Nellie lowered her head. “Because that would make our arrangement personal. That would open the door for me to rely upon you, and we both know that is impossible. Once you leave for London, you must never give me another thought. If there are children, I will of course make them available to you at your request.”
“But you yourself will never give me another thought?”
Nellie swallowed past the lump in her throat. “No. I will never give you another thought.”
He sat back against the squabs. “What is it you’re afraid of, Nellie?”
Her breathing faltered. “You know what I’m afraid of,” she said in whispered tones.
“I think perhaps I do, but I want to hear you say the words. I want you to spell it out for me.”
Nellie lifted her gaze and stared at him with all the confidence she could marshal. “I am afraid of being hurt, my lord. I’m afraid that your concern for me will shatter the vault that is my heart. You see . . .” Nellie forged ahead knowing he might hear a hint of self-pity in her words, and she didn’t want him to pity her.
“Every time one of my sisters fell in love, I dreamed that someday perhaps I might fall in love, too. But I never did. And I cannot allow myself to believe that I finally have.”
Nellie took a deep breath and continued. “You have given me far more than I asked for. It’s possible that I might even have the children I dreamed of having. But that is where our agreement begins . . . and ends. We get along tolerably well. I enjoy your company and hope you enjoy mine.”
“You know I do,” he said.
She hurriedly smothered the glow that began to rise with the sentiment he’d just expressed. “Then that will be enough. My request is that you do not allow me to expect more.” She paused a moment, then continued. “I dare not be what you want in a wife. And you dare not be what I desire in a husband. I cannot be content in the City. And you cannot be content in the country. That’s why we fit so perfectly. We both give the other exactly what we need.”
Nellie studied his cloaked expression, then turned her head to look out the window. Red Oaks was before her, its sweeping lawns and manicured gardens instantly capturing her with their charm. “We are here,” she said, unable to hide the excitement in her voice. This would be her home.
The carriage pulled to a stop beneath the entry portico, and after a servant lowered the carriage step, Hugh dismounted and turned to help her.
Nellie stepped to the ground and looked up at the sprawling magnificence before her. “It’s even more beautiful than seeing it from a distance.”
“Then come,” he said taking her arm. “I’ll enjoy seeing your face when you step inside.”
They walked through the front door the butler held open for them. Nellie made her way to the center of the foyer and turned in a circle. She took in the matched curving staircases connecting opposite ends of the balcony that ran the length of the second floor above the entryway. The grandeur of it overwhelmed her.
Nellie’s heart swelled. Never in her dearest dreams had she expected to live in a mansion as massive and grand as Red Oaks. Never had she thought a manor home and estate this splendid would be entrusted into her care.
Her eyes filled with tears at the opportunity she’d been blessed with. She dabbed at her eyes and turned to the man who’d made this possible.
“Welcome to your new home, my lady.”
Hugh sat in one of the oversized leather chairs in the Red Oaks library. He held a snifter of brandy and stared at the flickering fames in the fireplace. It was late. Not overly late, but late enough that his wife surely had plenty of time to go to her room and prepare for bed.
He didn’t want to rush her. He didn’t want to go to her before she was ready. Yet a part of him wondered if she would ever be ready.
He thought back over the words she’d spoken in the carriage. “You have given me far more than I asked for. It’s possible that I might even have the children I dreamed of having. But that is where our agreement begins . . . and ends.”
Hugh realized he should be relieved that she felt this way. He had never wanted a wife. He’d never thought to settle down to domesticity. That was something other members of Society were prone to do . . . but not him. He had no desire to be a husband, or a father, or go through life with a woman at his side. He was perfectly content living the unencumbered lifestyle he’d been living in London. If he’d wanted to marry, the woman he married would be nothing like Nellie. She would not have been a strong, independent woman who considered herself the caretaker of everyone in her little world. He would not have married someone who held him to the high standards Nellie would obviously expect from her husband. He would not have chosen a woman who loved unconditionally and expected the same from him.
No, he would not have chosen anyone like her. Thank heavens she’d made it clear she expected nothing from him.
She’d made that clear when she said, “Once you leave for London, you must never give me another thought. Just as I will not think of you again either.”
She’d absolved him of any responsibility. That’s exactly what he wanted. That’s what they’d agreed to.
He should be grateful to her for her foresight. And he was. She had freed him from any obligation.
Hugh finished the brandy and rose. He attempted to put a smile on his face. Everything was exactly how he wanted it to be. She’d proven how impossible it would have been for either of them to expect more of their marriage when she said, “I cannot be what you want in a wife. And you cannot be what I desire in a husband. I cannot be content in the City. And you cannot be content in the country.”
Yes, everything was exactly how he wanted it to be.
He left the library and walked briskly up the stairs to his wife’s room. He would bed her for the next two weeks and pray that when he left she was with child.
Hugh knocked softly, then opened the door when she bid him to enter. Then he stopped.
Nellie lifted her gaze at the knock on the door. She tried not to be nervous, yet how could she not be? Other than the one real kiss they’d shared, there had been nothing intimate between them. But she hadn’t expected there to be. If it hadn’t been for Lord Wythers’ insistence that they marry, she would have been content to spend her life at Red Oaks without a thought of what Society might think of their arrangement.
But he’d been right. They had more to consider than just themselves. There was her father and her five sisters. There was his mother and father, his brother, and his family. No, he’d been right. Marriage was their only alternative. And now it was her wedding night.
Nellie watched her husband close the door behind him. He paused as their eyes met, then move to the bed where she sat. He stretched out his hand and cupped her cheek. “Are you all right, Nellie?”
“Yes, my lord. I’m—”
“Hugh,” he corrected.
Nellie smiled. “Yes, Hugh. I’m fine. A little nervous, but that’s to be expected, is it not?”
He met her smile, then leaned down and kissed her fore
head. “Yes, that’s to be expected.”
He moved to extinguish the first candle. “Remove your gown and slide beneath the covers while I darken the room and get ready.”
Nellie did just that, thankful she wouldn’t have to undress in the light. Or that he wouldn’t be able to see her when he bedded her. It was immeasurably kind of him to lead her, to coach her, to teach her. But the way his voice resonated in her bones set her trembling.
When the lamps were extinguished and he was undressed, he came to her.
“I’m sorry,” he said as he placed a kiss on her forehead, then her mouth, “but this first time—”
Nellie smiled. “I know. I’ve had to have the ‘talk’ with several of my sisters to prepare them for their wedding night.”
He laughed, then brought his mouth down on hers again and kissed her.
This kiss was more intense than the last one, and he continued to kiss her as he moved over her.
Nellie’s breathing turned shallow and rapid. The stirrings inside her intensified as he continued with kisses and soft caresses. His hands moved over her, and Nellie thought she might dissolve in flames.
“Wrap your arms around me,” he said, and she did. She clung to him, because she felt untethered in a way she’d never experienced. She clung to him, because she feared if she let go she would lose the little control she had over her body. She clung to him, because what he was doing to her demanded she hold on to him. Then he made her his wife in the true sense of the word.
He kissed her again to draw her attention away from any discomfort. “Relax, Nellie. Our journey has just begun.”
And he was right.
She held fast to him as they soared through a golden darkness and into the silvery light. Higher and higher they climbed until pinpoints of light burst into crystal shards that shattered and fell like rose petals all around her.
Nellie lost track of time and space and any semblance of consciousness. She simply floated in the most rapturous experience of her life, caressing each moment of it in new and startling fashion.
