She swayed against him, her senses swimming as the terror of the ordeal came over her. Anton swept her up in his arms, the watching servants parting as he walked towards them, leaving the way clear for him to carry her upstairs to the chamber they were to share that night.
He lay her down on the bed and stood watching her as the colour slowly came back to her cheeks.
‘You have done too much,’ he said, in a harsh voice that hid his anxiety. ‘You nursed me for weeks and then this …’
Marietta pushed herself up against the pillows as her head cleared. ‘No, I have not exhausted myself,’ she said, and smiled at him. ‘It was just so … overwhelming. He wanted to kill me.’
‘And would have done so had I not come in time.’ Anton looked grim. ‘It is little wonder that you felt dizzy just now …’
‘It was just for a moment. I shall be better now.’ She swung her legs over the bed. ‘Your arm is bleeding, Anton. Let me bind it for you.’
‘It is but a scratch. I can do it myself. I have had worse and survived it without nursing. Stay where you are, Marietta, and rest.’
‘I do not need to rest, and Maddie needs me.’ She bit her lip as he prepared to leave the room. ‘Will you not stay with me?’
‘My grandmother will care for the child. Rest for a few hours or you will make yourself ill,’ Anton told her. ‘I need to rest myself. I shall see you later …’
Marietta lay back against the pillows as he went out, then she shook her head, refusing to give way to tears. She was tired, and she would sleep later, but if Anton did not wish for her company she would go to the nursery and see if Maddie responded to the potions she had made.
‘I came to take my leave of you,’ Lady Catherine said the next afternoon. ‘My husband hath business that will not keep. I hope that Anton will bring you to us soon. I do not know where you plan to settle now that your enemy is dead.’
‘Miguel is dead.?’ Marietta swayed and gave a little moan, sinking down onto a padded stool. ‘Anton would have spared him. Forgive me, I am feeling a little faint. Mayhap Anton is right and I am ill.’
Catherine looked at her for a moment, her eyes narrowed in thought. ‘Is there any chance that you might be with child?’
‘With child?’ Marietta stared at her. ‘It is possible.’ She blushed as she remembered the night she had given herself to Anton as they travelled to London. ‘I had not thought … one night … is it possible?’ It had taken years of trying before she had been able to give her husband a son.
Catherine laughed. ‘You were married to a man much older, perhaps an invalid?’ Marietta nodded her head, looking bemused. ‘Anton is young and strong. If you lay with him before your wedding then there is every possibility that you carry his child.’
‘I believed that I might die in prison, or at the rope’s end,’ Marietta said, her cheeks hot. ‘You will think me wanton …’
‘I was young and hot-blooded once,’ Catherine told her with a smile. ‘I was forced to marry a man I was not sure loved me. If he had made love to me before we were wed I might not have suffered so much doubt or wept as many tears.’
‘Oh …’ Marietta laughed. ‘I believe you are right concerning my condition, for now I think of it I have not seen my courses since before that time. I had not noticed, for there has been no time to think of myself.’
‘I am no physician, but if you need confirmation ask my mother. She will know if you are with child.’
‘I do not think I need to ask. I had not considered it, but now.’ Marietta laughed. ‘I am not sure what Anton will think of my news.’
‘If I know anything of my son he will be delighted. He has a daughter he loves, but I am certain he longs for a son.’
‘Thank you …’ Marietta was suddenly glowing. She put her hands on her stomach. ‘Our child. Yes, perhaps it will be a son …’
‘You will come to us when you can?’
‘Of course.’ Marietta moved to kiss her cheek. ‘I have no idea what Anton plans for the future. We have had little time to talk …’
‘You must ask him when he comes to you—and tell him your news. I dare say the news that he is to become a father will sharpen his thoughts. It would please his father if he were to buy an estate that borders ours and has recently been offered for sale.’
‘It would be pleasant to have you as neighbours, but Anton must decide …’
After Lady Catherine had gone, Marietta went to sit on the bed, piling the pillows up behind her. She was not tired, but she wanted to relax and think. She had already visited Maddie that day, and knew that the girl was recovering well. There was no need to be anxious for her. All Marietta needed to do now was think of the future.
She was carrying Anton’s child! It was a blessing from God, and the shadows that had hung over her melted away as she realised how fortunate she was. She slipped back against the pillows and closed her eyes.
When Anton entered the bedchamber an hour later, he found Marietta sleeping. She looked so lovely! He stood watching her, resisting the temptation to touch her. If she woke he would want to make love to her, and it was obvious that she was still tired. When she had almost fainted in his arms he had been terrified that she was ill; the fear of losing her had made him harsh. He had spoken sharply and it would not do. He must learn to speak softly to his beautiful wife, because he did not wish to see shadows in her eyes.
He would leave her to sleep. They were due to leave the next morning. He had agreed to escort his grandmother back to Melford, and stay with her and his grandfather for a while.
Anton had been told of two estates that might suit him. One was close to his father’s house, the other a little closer to Melford but with more land. He wanted to see both manors for himself before he came to a decision.
Marietta might prefer to return to France. Anton frowned as he turned away. He could not blame her if she wanted to claim her son’s inheritance. Unless a strong man was put in charge of the castle, it would fall into neglect and ruin.
Had Miguel not proved to be the traitor he undoubtedly was, Anton might have trusted him to hold the castle. Without someone who could be trusted not to try to steal the manor from the young Comte de Montcrief it might be better to sell it—but would Marietta agree?
‘Anton …’ Marietta’s sleepy voice stopped him as his hand moved towards the door latch. ‘Are you going? Why did you not wake me?’
He turned and smiled, coming back to her as she pushed herself up against the pillows. ‘You looked so peaceful. I did not want to disturb you, my love.’
Marietta yawned, and then swung her legs over the side and stood up. She gazed up at him, her lips soft and moist, slightly parted.
‘I was dreaming of you. Are you angry with me, Anton?’
‘Why should I be angry?’ He gave her a rueful smile. ‘Yesterday I may have spoken harshly. You looked tired and pale. I was anxious that you had made yourself ill looking after others.’
‘I am not ill, Anton.’ She hesitated, her eyes searching his face. ‘I think there may be a good reason for my faintness—and the tiredness.’
‘You have worked too hard—’ he began, but she put her fingers to his lips and smiled. ‘Then what—?’
‘You remember that night … when we travelled to London?’
‘Yes, but—’ He broke off staring at her. ‘What are you telling me?’
‘I am not yet certain, but I think it very likely that I am carrying our child.’ She saw his face darken. ‘Oh, no, please do not look at me so. Why are you angry? I know it is too soon, but.’
‘Too soon?’ Anton looked into her face. ‘Not too soon, my love—but I wanted to have you to myself for a time … before you face the agony and danger that awaits you.’
‘Childbirth is painful, and at times it can be dangerous,’ Marietta admitted. ‘However, I carried my son easily, though I lost others. My husband blamed himself, for he was not strong enough to give me more children, but we are both young. There is
no reason to think we shall lose our babe.’
‘It is not of the babe I think … though I should be loath to lose a child … but of you, Marietta.’ He reached out to hold her close, his face buried in her hair. ‘Isabella was always so sickly. If I lost you …’
She drew back, looking at him. ‘I am not Isabella. I shall not draw back when you touch me, or run from you. We can only trust in God that I shall be safely delivered of a child, Anton—but I do not fear it.’
‘You are so brave.’ He touched her cheek. ‘I love you more than life itself. I am a coward compared to you, my love.’
‘You? A coward?’ Marietta laughed mockingly. ‘You won the silver arrow against all comers. You fought my enemy face to face and killed him—yet you would have spared Miguel. Why would you have spared him?’
‘Because I felt pity for him. He loved Isabella and I took her from him. I wish that I had never seen her. Had I not asked for her, her father would have let her marry Miguel and both of them might still be alive.’
‘Do not blame yourself for their deaths, Anton. Isabella’s was an accident—for Miguel acted in haste, sending her to her death without understanding what he did—and he brought his own death on himself. I blamed myself at first, but I see now that I had no choice.’
‘You speak truly. When he tried to murder me there was no other choice.’
‘Miguel was mad with hate for you, Anton. He would have killed you if he could. We must neither of us feel guilt over his death.’
‘I shall not, and nor must you, though we may pity him.’ Anton looked down at her. ‘I had thought to lie with you this night, but now …’
Marietta laughed softly. ‘And so I should hope, my husband. We missed our wedding night. You have much to make up for.’
‘Wicked wench!’ he murmured. ‘But should we not be careful?’
‘We need not take care for a few months yet. I am hardly sure I carry the babe, but I have missed my courses and I feel it.’ She reached up to kiss him on the lips. ‘I see no reason why we should wait for the night, Anton. Secure the lock and come to bed with me.’
He hesitated, then, ‘You are sure?’
‘Yes, I am sure. I want to lie with you, my beloved. I want to seal my marriage vows. I am yours and I long to be in your arms …’
Anton smiled and moved to the door, turning the key in the lock. When he returned he saw that Marietta was trying to unlace her gown at the back.
‘Come here and I shall do it for you,’ he said, lifting her hair to kiss the back of her neck. She looked round and smiled at him. He kissed her lips and she moved against him. Anton wrenched the laces free and pulled the bodice over her head. Marietta swiftly untied the ribbon at her waist and let her overskirt fall to the ground. She stood before him in her thin undergown, holding out her hands. He took them, pulling her hard against him, suddenly fierce with need. ‘I want you so much …’
‘Your arm?’
‘A mere scratch.’ Anton said, bending his head to kiss her. ‘Nothing that will keep me from your bed …’ He reached out, gathering her up in his arms. ‘I have waited so long for this …’
Marietta smiled and kissed him.
‘You long for it no more than I,’ she whispered. ‘I have waited for you far longer than you know, my love …’
It was dark save for a chink of light from the small window when Marietta woke to find herself snuggled close to her husband. She could hear his even breathing and knew that he still slept. She stretched and moved away from him, getting up and going to the closet to relieve herself.
She could still taste his kisses on her lips, and feel the tingling between her thighs where he had loved her well. She had wondered if the excitement and pleasure she had known the first time in his arms could ever be repeated, but if anything this night had been better. Anton’s tenderness, his care for her pleasure and her comfort, had carried her to new heights of ecstasy. All her dreams had been surpassed. She knew that she was the happiest, most fortunate of women.
A little cry came from the bed. Marietta went to see what was wrong. Anton was having a dream—and a bad one, it seemed. He threw his arm out and kicked as if he were fighting.
‘No! Do not leave me. I cannot bear it. You must not.’ he muttered.
Marietta’s smile dimmed. Did he still think of the woman he had lost? Even after the night they had just spent in each other’s arms! He had sworn he loved her, but if he still called for Isabella.
‘Stay with me …’ Antonpleaded, tossingrestlessly. ‘Marietta … my love …’
He was dreaming of her! Marietta climbed on to the bed and bent over him, pressing her lips to his cheek and giving him a little shake.
‘Wake up, Anton. Wake up, my love. I am here with you. I love you.’
Anton opened his eyes. He stared at her and then smiled. He reached out to touch her cheek, his hand moving in her scented hair.
‘I was having a bad dream. I dreamed that you had the child, but then you—’ He choked back the words. ‘No! It was just a dream. A stupid, foolish dream. You are strong. I am a fool to burden you with my fears. Forgive me, my beloved wife.’
‘Of course I forgive you,’ she said, and kissed his mouth. ‘I love you. I promise that I shall not leave you. I shall not die. When my time comes to have the child I shall be well cared for and nothing will happen. You must believe me.’
‘Yes, I believe you,’ he said. ‘I shall forget this nonsense. Forgive me for waking you.’
‘You did not wake me.’ She held her hand out to him. ‘Come, my love. Slip on your robe and come with me.’
Anton rose and put on the loose chamber gown that lay beside the bed. He looked at her oddly.
‘Where are you taking me?’
‘Just take my hand and wait …’
She led him along the passage to the nursery. Going in, they saw a candle still burned atop a chest some distance from the child’s cot.
Marietta drew her husband close to the cot, gazing down at the boy as he lay sleeping, his arm curled about Maddie. He must have climbed in with her, mayhap to comfort her. His skin was soft, touched with pink, one fist curled under his head the other arm across her body. Maddie was sleeping peacefully, her face against her companion’s curls. They looked so perfect together that it brought a lump to the throats of the man and woman who watched.
‘Is that not beautiful?’ Marietta whispered. ‘Our children. Think of the other children I shall give you, Anton. Is it not worth a little risk for a son of your own?’
Anton looked down at the boy and smiled. ‘He is beautiful, and I shall love him as a son. We are lucky to have these two.’ He touched her face. ‘I care not what our child is—a son or a daughter. I know that you will bear it without fear. You will not weep and curse me as she did.’
‘Isabella blamed you for her discomfort?’ He nodded, and Marietta smiled. ‘All women complain and weep sometimes when they are with child, but it does not mean that they truly blame the father—it is just that they grow weary of feeling fat and ugly. Once it is over the pain and discomfort is forgotten.’
‘You are so wise and lovely,’ he said. ‘Do you mean to absolve me of all blame, Marietta?’
‘Isabella could not enjoy marriage as you might have wished, but that was not your fault. You must let the past go—as I have.’ She led him from the nursery back to their chamber. ‘Only then will you be free of the nightmares that haunt you.’
‘Yes, I know.’ He smiled and stroked his fingers down her cheek, placing a kiss at the little hollow at the base of her throat. ‘Shall you be content to live in England? Or do you wish to return to the castle?’
‘Could we have a house such as this?’
‘I hope to find something as comfortable—is that what you would like?’
‘Yes. I was never truly comfortable at the castle. It holds no fond memories—only those that I can create here with my son, Maddie and our children. I think I should be pleased if you could sell Mont
crief and invest the money here in England for my son.’
‘Then you have solved my problem.’ He grinned as she raised her brows. ‘My father wishes me to buy an estate next to his—and my grandfather sent word that there was an excellent manor near to Melford. I was not sure which to choose. If we bought both we should between us own a huge area of land—all of which is held by members of my family. It would make our family one of the most powerful in England.’
‘Then purchase both and sell Montcrief,’ Marietta said. ‘If you need more gold I will sign so that you can use the money from the Comte’s deposits with the goldsmiths at the French court.’
‘I think the money would be better invested here,’ Anton said. ‘Your son will be raised as an English gentleman. Better that his land is here and well cared for than he inherit a neglected castle in France.’
They had reached their bedchamber. Marietta reached up to kiss him on the mouth, pressing herself against him.
‘Do it with my blessing,’ she said. ‘Build for the future, for all our children—and now, my love, I want you to come back to bed with me …’
Anton gazed down at her. ‘I almost passed by that day I saw the notice for the contest for the silver arrow. Had I never seen you, I might have refused when the King commanded me to take a message to the Comte de Montcrief. Had I not come, the rogues who tried to capture you might have killed you that day. I had decided that I would retire from court life, and would have liked to refuse the King, but it was the memory of your face as you gave me the arrow that drew me back to France, though I knew it not then. It has taken me a long time to let go and allow myself to love again, Marietta—but now that I have I shall love only you until I die.’
‘It was fate, our destiny,’ she said. ‘You saved me from certain death beneath the hooves of that horse, and when the dog attacked me—and you have saved me many times since. Yes, I am certain it was fate that drew us together at the last, my brave and gallant husband.’
A Wayward Woman Page 45
