The Earl’s Intended Wife

by Louise Allen

  What devil prompted Hebe to speak she had no idea. It was as though the question left her lips without any thought passing through her head at all. ‘Alex, do you not want children of your own? Do you not want heirs?’

  His head came up and he looked at her with all the furious arrogance of the bird of prey she had likened him to in Malta. ‘I have heirs.’

  ‘You have?’ she faltered.

  ‘My father had two younger brothers. They have three surviving sons between them and I have lost count of the male grandsons: six, I think, at the last count. I have no need of heirs, Hebe. Believe me, the Beresford name is quite safe.’

  ‘I am sorry,’ she stammered, unsure what she was apologising for. ‘Will you excuse me? I feel rather tired, I will go to bed.’ She was aware of him getting to his feet, but she tossed her embroidery hoop on to the chair and walked swiftly from the room. Alex did not follow.

  Once in her room she rang for Charity and went through the process of undressing and preparing for bed as though in a dream. Not until the maid had slipped her nightgown over her head did Hebe realise it was the exquisite bridal nightgown, just returned from laundering and fragrant with rose scent.

  Somehow she got the girl out of the room before she gave way to tears. They were the first she had shed since marrying Alex, for she had resolved to find happiness where she could in this strange alliance and not to repine. But now, certain that he must be bitterly regretting ever having tied himself to this loveless, sterile, marriage, she turned her face into the soft lawn of her pillow and wept bitterly, without inhibition.

  How long the tears lasted she had no idea, but she finally sat up, scrubbing at her wet face with the back of her hand and finding her mind clearer. And with that clarity came a growing sense of guilt as she thought back over the past few weeks.

  Alex had offered her everything, including his absolute promise not to press on her demands he was certain would be repulsive to her. The only thing he had not given her was love. But how could he, if he had given it to someone else? How would I feel, this new, clear-headed Hebe wondered, if I knew Alex was lost to me entirely? Would I lightly tell someone else that I loved them? Of course not!

  But she had demanded a love match and had made it clear that he had forced her to accept him because he could not offer her that. Hebe wrapped her arms around her bent knees and stared ahead into the candlelight.

  Anna had told her that men did not have to love the woman they lay with. Why could she not put her high flights of sensibility behind her and go to Alex? She need not tell him she loved him and so make him feel sorry for her, she could simply let him see she craved his affection and nearness. If it made him feel better to make love to her, and if he knew she was not repulsed or frightened by him, surely they could only grow closer? And if she became pregnant again, however many nephews he had, surely he would be happy to have his own family?

  Before she could explore this terrifying train of thought any more and lose her nerve Hebe threw back the covers and ran on bare feet to the door. She pulled it open abruptly and took a step back with a gasp as her action almost propelled Alex into the room.

  Hebe realised he must have been standing close against the heavy panels, his hands pressed against them. With the reflexes of a cat he regained his balance on the threshold and stood, his hands either side on the door frame, his eyes dark and intense on her tearstained face.

  ‘Alex! What are you doing here?’

  ‘I heard you crying.’

  ‘But I stopped crying quite ten minutes ago.’

  ‘I know.’ He had been standing there, she realised, prevented by his promise from entering her room, yet unable to leave her weeping alone. Hebe saw he was wearing a long silk dressing gown, his feet bare on the boards.

  Alex followed her eyes and said simply, ‘I heard you crying as I went past to my room. I started to go to bed, but I had to come back and then I found I could not leave.’ Hebe was so touched that she could not speak. After a moment he added, ‘Where were you going?’

  Hebe swallowed. Now, if ever, was the time to have courage and follow her heart. ‘To your room.’

  ‘My room? But why?’

  ‘Because…because—’ Hebe broke off, feeling the blush rising steadily up her throat to stain her face. ‘Because I wanted to go to your bed, Alex.’ There, she had said it.

  The shuttered look had come down over his face again. Hebe could have wept. ‘Why?’ he asked harshly. ‘Because you feel guilty about not giving me an heir?’

  ‘No! Not guilty, but sad about that. And sad too that I should have driven you from my bed because of my nonsense about love matches and the fact that I did not have the courage to tell you that I am not afraid of…of you.’

  Alex stared into her face with the look of a man trying to unravel a deep and mysterious riddle. ‘You are not afraid? After what happened in France? After I raped you? After I have seen you recoil every time I tried to touch you?’ He sounded incredulous.

  ‘You did not rape me,’ Hebe retorted, furiously. ‘And I did not want you to touch me because if you had I would have found myself in your arms and I knew you did not love me.’ She had lost her temper now, with herself or with him she could not tell, but it made saying all this much easier. ‘I was such a fool, I said those things about love matches and I told myself I could not possibly be a proper wife to you because you loved Clarissa. I should have been happy with what I could have…’

  ‘I? Love Clarissa?’ His voice cut across her tumble of words, silencing her.

  ‘Why, yes. You proposed to her. You were amazed and delighted when she wrote to accept you. You stopped flirting with me. Mrs Fitton said that when you got her second letter you…you… She said you groaned Clarissa’s name, then said “my love, my love” as though your heart was breaking.’

  ‘How the devil did she know that? And what was she about, to tell you of it?’

  ‘She told me she came into the room quietly, not realising you were there, just when you opened the letter. She told me the first day I came here because she thought I was an old friend of the family and I had expressed anxiety about how you must feel with your double bereavement. She meant it for the best, Alex: she was furious with Clarissa and thought I might be able to help you if I knew, I think.’

  ‘No wonder you were so difficult to convince when I came to London. Hebe, once and for all, I do not love Clarissa and I do not think I ever did.’

  ‘But you proposed to her!’ Hebe’s feet were growing colder by the minute but she was quite unaware of them, or of the cold draughts playing over her exposed skin in the fragile gown.

  ‘I had been on the receiving end of yet another lecture from my father on getting married and starting a family. Clarissa was beautiful. It was the fashion to believe one was in love with her. I proposed, she laughed at me and sent me on my way. I wonder now if I asked her because I knew she would say no, and at least I could show my father I was trying to put his advice into practice.’

  ‘Then when she accepted you, you had no choice but to pretend to be happy about it,’ Hebe said, with a wave of joyful comprehension running through her. ‘It would have been dishonourable to tell anyone of your true feelings, let alone jilt her.’ Her courage was building with every passing moment. Dare she… ‘Alex, that day in the garden, before her letter came…were you going to say anything to me?’

  Still he did not touch her, his hands clenched so that the knuckles showed white as he stayed framed in the doorway. ‘I was going to ask you to marry me, Hebe.’

  ‘I thought so,’ she breathed. ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I love you,’ Alex said, finally uttering the words she had dreamed of for so long. ‘What would you have said?’

  ‘I would have said yes, Alex, because I love you.’

  For the longest moment he stayed still, his eyes reading her face as though he could not quite believe her words, then his arms came down and round her and she was crushed against his chest. Hebe t
hought he was going to kiss her, but he held her away so he could look into her face.

  ‘When I knew I was no longer tied to Clarissa I had no idea where you were—on the Rock being flirted with by half the officers of the Mediterranean fleet for all I knew. I could not leave home because of my father and my brother, but I wanted to find you so badly. It was you I was speaking of when Mrs Fitton heard me, only you my darling, enchanting, lost Circe.

  ‘Like a dream, as I was reeling from William’s death, you walked into my house. I could not believe it was possible to be so happy. Then you tell me that I raped you, that I had hurt you and that I had made you pregnant. It was as though I had despoiled the most precious thing in the world. I dared not touch you, all I could do was to try, somehow, to make some small amends. And then—’ his voice broke ‘—then you were…ill.’

  ‘Oh, Alex, darling, how can I convince you that there is nothing to forgive?’

  As though he feared his dream might shatter, Alex bent his head and found her lips, his mouth gentle. Yet the kiss was not tentative: Hebe felt utterly cherished, sheltered by his love. Shyly she kissed him back, her lips moving sweetly under his, parting to the urging of his, until she gasped at the invasion of his tongue and the heat of longing and desire lanced through her.

  Without knowing it, her fingers dug into his back through the thick silk and she sensed the change in his body as he realised she was truly not afraid and that she wanted him.

  Suddenly there was the sound of footsteps and an exclamation. Alex swung round and, peeping below his sheltering arm, Hebe could see Starling, improbably clad in heavy flannel nightrobe, slippers on his feet and a nightcap on his head. He had a bunch of keys in one hand and a candle snuffer in the other.

  ‘My lord! I beg you pardon, I was doing my rounds and extinguishing the candles, as you see. Is everything all right, my lord? I did not look to find you here in the corridor…’ His voice trailed away in the face of a situation beyond the experience of the most superior butler.

  ‘Everything is quite all right, I thank you, Starling. I was merely kissing my wife.’

  Hebe, torn between blushes and giggles, tugged at Alex’s arm, but he stood firm while Starling gathered his wits and bowed slightly. ‘Goodnight, my lord. Goodnight, my lady. It is, if I may say so, my lord, somewhat chilly for her ladyship to be out in this draughty corridor at this hour.’

  ‘Thank you, Starling, I believe you are right.’

  Hebe watched as the butler vanished around the corner. ‘Oh, poor Starling! Alex, you must apologise to him in the morning, it is way and beyond what any butler might be expected to have to deal with.’

  Alex looked down with laughter brimming in his eyes. ‘Nonsense, do him good: he might go and flirt with Mrs Fitton as a result. But he is right about the cold, my darling, you are frozen.’

  ‘So are you, Alex, come in and shut the door.’

  He hesitated, ‘I promised I would not…’

  ‘Then I end the promise!’ Hebe tugged his arm and shut the door firmly before his scruples could persuade him to retreat again. She curved her arms around his neck and gazed up into his face. ‘Please, Alex, make love to me.’

  He stooped and she found herself lifted high in his arms and the next moment she was lying on the bed, her hair fanning the pillows, the fine fabric of the nightgown lightly veiling her body. Alex closed his eyes, one hand clenched on the bedpost. ‘You are so lovely. I cannot believe that you can trust me after what happened.’

  Hebe sat up, curled her legs under her and reached out to tug at his arm. ‘Alex, listen to me! I cannot pretend that was how I wanted to lose my virginity. I cannot pretend it did not hurt, because it did. But, Alex, none of that mattered, because it was you. Can you not understand? I loved you then, I love you now.’

  He sat on the bed beside her, taking her hands in his. ‘Do you really mean that, Hebe? Oh, my love, if you will let me I will show you how it ought to be, and I promise I will not hurt you.’

  Hebe smiled trustingly back at him. ‘I knew that must be the case. I expect it would always hurt the first time, and, after all, you hardly had your mind on the matter. Nor, I hope, do you have much experience with virgins.’ Alex gave a muffled snort of laughter and dropped his face into his hands. Hebe could see his ears turning red. ‘Oh, dear, I am sorry, that was a most improper thing to say.’

  Alex opened his hands, revealing his face alight with laughter and something else that made Hebe’s stomach contract sharply with a strange sensation which made her breathless. ‘My innocent Circe: we are married now, it is almost compulsory to have improper conversations. Whilst we are being so frank, would you care to tell me why you were so pleased at the news that I was going to London tomorrow?’

  ‘Oh, dear. That really is extremely improper. Must I tell you?’

  She realised with a start that Alex was trailing one long finger up and down her right ankle. It made it extraordinarily difficult to think. ‘Yes, you must.’

  ‘Very well, I thought you would be going to visit your mistress.’

  ‘My what? Hebe, let me assure you, I do not have a mistress, and if I did, it passes my comprehension that you should be pleased about it.’

  ‘Well, you were not sleeping with me, and I was sure you would not behave towards the local girls in any improper way, so I thought you must be feeling…well, Anna said it made men grumpy. I thought if you went to London you could find one of the muslin company and that would make you feel better.’

  ‘The only thing that was making me grumpy, as Anna so charmingly puts it, was the fact that I was burning to make endless, passionate, highly improper love to my wife. What other helpful advice did my good friend Mrs Wilkins give you?’

  ‘Only that men do not need to be in love with the lady they are making love to. That is what made me think that perhaps you would not repulse me if I came to your bed tonight.’

  Alex looked at her grimly. ‘Tomorrow I am not going to London. I am going down to see Thomas Thorne and tell him that if he does not marry that woman by special licence within the week and remove her from this household I will tear up his tenancy.’

  Hebe snorted. ‘What nonsense. Anna did not interfere, she simply answered my questions when I asked her things. I have not been discussing you with her, I promise. I would just ask her for general information.’

  ‘Then, Madam Wife, allow me to give you one very particular piece of information. I love you. I will never want to make love to another woman for as long as you are mine, and I fully intend for that to be for the rest of our lives. Is that quite clear?’

  ‘Yes, my lord,’ Hebe said meekly, then, ‘Alex if you do not make love to me very quickly and stop doing whatever it is you are doing to my ankle I think I will have strong hysterics.’

  ‘The last thing I intend to do is to make love to you quickly, Circe. I intend to be very, very slow.’ He reached out and started to untie the ribbon bows that formed the shoulder straps of Hebe’s nightgown. ‘This is a very fetching piece of nonsense. Just exactly how does it come off…ah, yes. And then down here, just so.’ With the last bow untied the gown slid from Hebe’s body like a retreating wavelet over warm sand.

  Alex stared down at the smooth, pale skin, trembling slightly with shyness under his gaze. ‘Did I tell you once that you were not beautiful, Circe? I was so very wrong.’

  Hebe reached out and tugged at the belt of his robe. ‘Ah, yes,’ Alex said as he shrugged it off his shoulders. ‘You have the advantage of me, having washed, prodded, bandaged and bullied my unfortunate and unconscious naked body in the past.’ His eyes twinkled wickedly. ‘Still no fig leaf, despite your studies of the classical nude.’ He saw her eyes widen as she took in the fact that he was very aroused. ‘It will be all right…’

  ‘I know,’ Hebe said firmly. ‘It was…I mean, in the dark I did not quite realise.’

  ‘Stop being brave, my love, just kiss me and trust me.’ Hebe was borne back on to the bed, Alex’s long form s
tretched beside her, his mouth tantalising hers until all she could think about was the feel of his lips, the warmth of his mouth, the taste of him.

  He began to caress her, his hands running gently over her body until she was moaning and twisting with the teasing, unrelenting sensation. Only then did he lift his mouth from hers and catch one peaking nipple between his teeth. Hebe sobbed and arched towards the incredible sensation that seemed to reach deep inside her. While his teeth and lips continued to tease her aching breasts, his hand moved lightly down, never stopping its subtle caresses until she suddenly gasped with mingled shock and exquisite erotic torment as he touched the most intimate place.

  Without hesitation he shifted his weight over her and before Hebe realised what was happening he had possessed her. This time there was no pain, nothing but a soaring, aching, building crescendo of feeling. She was unaware of her mouth feverishly seeking and finding his, only to break off to kiss the hot smooth skin of his shoulder above her, unaware of her nails in the hard muscle of his back as he arched over her. All she was aware of was the agonising, wonderful torment of their mutual passion and, as her body strained against his, of the soaring release of utter ecstasy that racked her even as Alex cried out above her.

  Hebe opened her eyes to find Alex’s face close above hers, his gaze wide and dark as he watched her. There was a look of such possessive tenderness and awe in his eyes that she trembled and tears sprang to the corners of her eyes.

  ‘Hebe, darling.’ He was all concern, rolling off her body and cradling her against his chest. ‘Darling love, what is wrong?’

  ‘Nothing,’ Hebe murmured against his chest, rubbing her cheek against the dark hair. ‘Nothing at all. I am just so very happy.’ She felt, rather than heard, his sigh of relief, snuggling down against him as he pulled the coverlet over their hot, relaxed bodies.

  ‘Go to sleep now, Circe.’ Alex’s voice was husky as he nuzzled the angle where her neck met the smooth slope of her shoulder.