Colin's Conundrum: A Steamy 19th Century Romance (The Victorians Book 3)

by Simone Beaudelaire

  They finally arrived at a row of comfortable-looking townhouses, where Colin stepped up to the front door of a house and knocked.

  A young man in a uniform opened, regarding them with curious eyes.

  “Is the master in?” Colin asked. “He's expecting me.” He dug into his pocket and drew out a dirty and wrinkled calling card.

  “Step inside,” the young man urged. “I will get him.” He led the couple into a receiving room with a rich, dark-blue settee, on which Daisy perched. Colin also sat, putting as much distance between them as the furniture piece would allow. Whether that was because he remained angry and mistrustful, or because he didn't want to take in her luscious scent and all the sweet memories that went with it—and thus be forced to regret his unavoidable course of action—he didn't know.

  A moment later, Christopher stalked into the room. “Colin! I expected you yesterday. What kept you?”

  “Strange, strange things, my friend,” he replied rising to shake Christopher's hand. “I doubt you'll believe me if I tell you.”

  “Now I'm even more curious,” his friend quipped, running fingers through hair that had only the tiniest sprinkling of gray, much less than Colin's own, despite Christopher being the same age. “After dinner, we should have a brandy and you can tell me your wild tale.”

  “I shall certainly agree to that,” he replied, mouth watering at the thought of the excellent brandy Christopher kept on hand, not to mention tasty dinners the Bennetts' cook-maid always prepared.

  “Ahem,” a soft voice cut into the reunion.

  Conversation fell to an abrupt silence.

  “And who is this?” Christopher asked, suddenly noticing the extra person in the room.

  “This is Daisy,” Colin said, his effusive greeting giving way to clipped, terse utterances. “My wife.”

  Christopher's warm brown eyes widened until he looked like a frog. A startled croak completed the effect. “Wife?”

  “That's right,” Colin said coolly. “I did warn you it was a strange story, did I not? In the meanwhile, my… my bride must be tired from traveling. She's had a difficult day. Do you have a guest room available?”

  “Of course,” Christopher replied. “I was expecting you, was I not? Ma'am? Lady Gelroy?”

  Daisy started. “Yuh— yes?”

  “Would you like to retire at this time? Shall I have a tray sent up?”

  Daisy gave Colin a long, considering look, then nodded grimly. “Thank you, Mr. Bennett. That sounds like a fine plan. It was lovely to meet you.”

  Christopher rang a bell and a moment later, the cook-maid arrived.

  “Burns,” Christopher said to the woman.

  She looked up at him, ready to receive instructions.

  “I think we will all eat separately tonight. Please bring a tray up to Lady Gelroy in the guest chambers, when you bring my wife hers, and then we'll have trays in the study if you please.”

  “Very good, sir,” the woman said mildly. “Please come this way.” She indicated the doorway. Daisy, who had been staring at Colin with an unreadable expression on her face, paused long enough for an uncomfortable tension to grow, and then turned and stalked away.

  “Good Lord,” Christopher exclaimed as he escorted Colin out of the receiving room and down the hall to the study, where he sank into his favorite high-backed armchair. “What have you gotten yourself into this time, man?”

  Colin shook his head, collapsing onto a red velvet chaise. “If only I knew.”

  “Married, though,” Christopher said. “I never thought I would live to see the day. And why was I not informed sooner?”

  “Well, hell, Chris,” Colin exclaimed, dropping formality, “if I'd known for more than a day that this was going to happen, I might have.”

  Christopher's already stunned expression twisted further.

  “But never mind. I'll be investigating tomorrow about procuring an annulment. I can't afford a wife I want, let alone one I can scarcely stand the sight of.”

  Christopher winced. “Well, that certainly clarifies things,” he drawled sarcastically. “How on earth did you acquire a wife you don't want?”

  “At gunpoint,” Colin replied with a sigh.

  Had Christopher not been seated, he would likely have ended up on the floor.

  Chapter 5

  Daisy trailed after a young servant in a white cap and black dress, along a narrow hallway to a staircase and up. The home, though cozy, felt tight and closed-in compared to what she was used to. At the top, a wide landing revealed a long row of closed doors.

  “This way, ma'am,” the woman said in a low, gentle voice. “I'll show ye to the guestroom.”

  “Thank you,” Daisy replied. She relaxed an iota. I once had the thought that more time with Colin was a treat to be desired, but no more. Now, every moment I can spend away from him feels like a reward. I understand why he's angry, but… it's a shame he's angry with me.

  A door opened and a tall, dark-haired woman wearing a blue dressing gown stepped into the hallway.

  “Oh!” she said shyly. “I didn't know we had a visitor. Sorry, I'm not receiving at the moment.” She laid a hand on a belly so swollen, Daisy had never seen anything like it before.

  “My apologies,” Daisy replied. “I came with my husband, Colin Butler—er, Lord Gelroy. I understood he was invited.”

  “Husband?” The woman's eyes bugged out. “He married?”

  “He did,” Daisy concurred. “May I assume you are the lady of the house?”

  “I am,” the woman replied. “Mrs. Christopher Bennett, but you may call me Katerina.” She grinned.

  “A pleasure,” Daisy said. Then she blurted, “You can't have more than a day or two left.” She colored, embarrassed at her rudeness.

  “I sincerely hope so,” Katerina replied, rubbing the small of her back. “Being in confinement is… well… it's boring. I miss my friends, and I'm ready to meet my babies.”

  “Babies?”

  Katerina nodded. “The midwife is quite certain there are two. Should be… interesting. I'm looking forward to it being over. In the meanwhile, if you can tolerate the sight of me, I'll be thankful you're here. You're the only person I've seen in weeks, apart from my mother-in-law, my daughter and my midwife. She's your mother-in-law, incidentally.”

  “She is?” Oh, good heavens. What next?

  “She is. Say, would you like to dine with me? I'm dying for some conversation.” A pained look crossed Katerina's face.

  “I would like that,” Daisy agreed, “but, I say, are you all right?”

  Katerina relaxed and rubbed her belly. “False labor. I've been having pains for weeks. Sometimes for hours at a time, but labor doesn't begin. I think I might carry these two forever.” She laughed without much humor and indicated the open doorway.

  Daisy stepped through, wondering how a total stranger whose home she'd just invaded showed every sign of becoming an ally, if not a friend.

  * * *

  “And so then,” Colin said, taking a deep, shuddering sip of brandy, his eyes fixed sightlessly on the massive collection of books with which Christopher lined the walls of the room, “I brought Daisy back to her house, and—no jest—her father was waiting with the vicar and a rifle. They forced us to marry on the spot. That was this morning.” He drained his cup and grabbed a slice of bread from the basket between them, smearing it liberally with butter and taking a hearty bite.

  “Good Lord,” Christopher exclaimed. His brandy lay forgotten in its glass on the small table. A chunk of cheese dangled from his fingers.

  Colin laughed mirthlessly. “You've said that about twenty times since I began.”

  “Well, you've had quite the adventure, haven't you?” Christopher said. He claimed his brandy and down the glass in a single gulp.

  “I have,” Colin agreed, “and the devil can take it. I didn't want an adventure. I just wanted a brief idyll. A moment out of time, where I could feel like a man instead of a machine. Where I could
have hope for a normal future.” His voice wavered.

  “Understandable,” Christopher agreed. “At the risk of sounding maudlin, it's not unusual for men of our age to seek the pleasure, not of a willing woman, but of a long-term relationship. Even my brother is happily married. Cary and I have been at it for years. Your turn had to come.”

  “Wanting my turn to come is surely normal,” Colin agreed, splashing more brandy in his glass, “but you must see that it cannot be. I cannot remain married to Daisy.”

  “Why not? Granted I only met her for a moment, but she looked like a sturdy, humble lass. No high-strung filly there.” He spooned up a mouthful of soup.

  “Well, apart from the fact that I can't afford a wife,” Colin snapped, “she and her damned family trapped me. Marriage at gunpoint is not legal. A wedding forced under false pretenses is invalid. The vicar didn't even give me a chance to speak and her father had a gun trained on her.”

  “On her, not on you?” Christopher pointed out.

  “Well, yes, mostly,” Colin agreed.

  Christopher sat back in his chair, thoughtfully chewing on his slice of bread.

  Colin could see the cogs turning in his analytical mind.

  “Are you certain they were trying to trap you?” Christopher asked at last. He took another bite of soup and leaned forward, dark eyes trained on Colin.

  “What do you mean? It was obviously a trap.”

  “Oh, I agree,” Christopher said. “It's plain as day. What I'm less clear on is who was the bait… and who was the prey? I'm not convinced you were the intended target at all.”

  Colin raised one eyebrow and took another sip of brandy.

  “I mean, think about it. Did you introduce yourself as Viscount Gelroy?”

  “Of course not.” Colin shook his head. “Why would I do that? I hate the thrice-damned title.”

  “Precisely. You introduced yourself using a humble, everyday name, wearing humble, ragged clothing and scuffed boots and leading a half-dead horse. Where is the horse, by the way?”

  “Got lost in the confusion,” Colin replied. “I hope he's enjoying the spring growth. He won't survive the winter.”

  Christopher patted Colin on the shoulder. “He wouldn't have anyway.”

  Colin pursed his lips but said nothing.

  “At any rate,” Christopher added as he crumbled a crust of bread into his soup, “I doubt anyone knew of your title. In fact, I'm sure they didn't. For all anyone knew, you were no one in particular. Didn't you mention that your—ahem—bride had a history with the man you rescued her from?”

  “She certainly seemed to,” Colin realized, thinking back over the brief conversations he'd shared with Daisy.

  “Well, then, that seems more likely, doesn't it? Her father selected a suitor for her. She was… less than enthusiastic about the match, and the two of them conspired to trap her into marriage. Her, not you. You bumbled into the crossfire.”

  Colin twisted his lips as he considered a new possibility. “But the vicar…”

  “Probably wasn't in on the entire plot and had no idea what man he was looking for. He heard a couple was misbehaving, you two turned up, and he jumped in.”

  “That makes horrible sense,” Colin admitted. He grabbed a chunk of cheese and chewed it while he finally considered the possibility. “But it doesn't matter,” he added, swallowing and nearly choking as guilt over how unkind he'd been to Daisy closed down his throat. If she didn't know… if she was just as shocked as me… that poor girl. Her own father facilitated… His thoughts veered away as Christopher continued.

  “Why not?”

  “Because whether Daisy was a co-conspirator or an innocent dupe is irrelevant. I can't afford a wife.”

  Christopher frowned, acknowledging the dilemma. “You have a point there, sadly. But what will happen to your wife after the annulment?”

  Colin shrugged. “I don't care.”

  “Liar,” Christopher accused. “You didn't abandon her in her village with her angry father and his gun. You must care at least a little.”

  “I can't afford to care,” Colin protested. “I can no more fund her relocation to a safer place than I can keep her.”

  “You'd like to, wouldn't you?” Christopher prodded. “I mean, you mentioned being a bit… infatuated. I remember the first time I saw Katerina. I don't think I truly fell in love with her until we'd been married a while, but that first meeting… it was powerful.”

  Colin rolled his eyes upward and stared at the ceiling. “Your wife badly needed to marry, and you had the means to follow through. My 'wife' doesn't need a husband, and even if she did, I can't be that man, even if I want to.”

  “That's hard,” Christopher said.

  Colin nodded and ended the conversation by shoveling soup into his mouth.

  Christopher kept talking. “Very well. If my wife hasn't gone into labor by the morning, I will take you on your investigation. Do you need a loan to cover the cost… or a gift?”

  Colin gulped. “I don't want charity.”

  “I don't want your estate to go bankrupt over this. Please, for once, let me help you.”

  “Very well,” Colin agreed. “This time, I'm in over my head. If you can prevent me from drowning, I'll accept the hand.”

  Christopher nodded and splashed more brandy into his friend's glass.

  * * *

  Daisy stretched out on the Bennetts' comfortable guest bed. Tucking her arms behind her head, she regarded the flickering shadows of candlelight on the ceiling. “Mrs. Bennett will be delivering soon, maybe even by morning,” she murmured, recalling how many pains her host had suffered. Still, she'd eaten heartily and moved around the room, restless as a mother cat.

  “What a lovely lady. I wish I could have met her under better circumstances. I wonder what tomorrow will bring.”

  The hasty end to your hasty marriage, a sly voice in her mind whispered.

  “I know that,” she whispered. “Colin has been clear about his intentions. I mean after. I can't go home. I wonder if he will at least escort me to the bank. It's time for me to take control of my future.”

  Reassured, though still stinging from Colin's harsh rejection, Daisy rolled her side and closed her eyes.

  She wasn't sure how much time passed, but the bed sagged, and a warm body slipped in beside her.

  Before Daisy could release more than a startled squeak, warm arms enfolded her, and a hot, liquor-scented breath wafted over her cheek. “You smell so good,” Colin whispered, “like warm summer peaches and hope.” He kissed the side of her neck.

  “Did you have a change of heart?” Daisy asked, raising one eyebrow, though he couldn't see it.

  “No, never,” he murmured. “I knew from the beginning that you were special; that we would be special together. Tell me you didn't know it too.”

  “Are you foxed?” she asked, rolling in his arms.

  Colin laid his lips on hers.

  A soft moan escaped Daisy as memories of Colin's bittersweet goodbye washed over her.

  “You're more intoxicating than any spirit,” he breathed against her mouth.

  His tongue slipped into her mouth. The brandy he'd drunk sizzled on Daisy's tongue. Her body relaxed. Overcome by so many unprecedented events, she took comfort in the arms of a man whose connection to her could not be denied. My husband. A stranger, but my heart knows him.

  It seemed her body did too. John Orville had only to glance in her direction to make her shudder and her blood run cold. Not so, Colin. His hands slid, warm and eager, over her back. She could feel the heat right through the thin fabric of her nightgown.

  “Colin,” she breathed. “Colin…”

  “Daisy,” he murmured. “Are you sure you're real?”

  “Are you sure you're not angry anymore?” she asked, dragging herself out of the vortex of passion he had unexpectedly created.

  “Angry? Oh, yes, darling, I'm angry. Trouble is, I don't know who to be angry at or about what anymore. It's
so damned confusing. Only one thing still makes sense in this topsy-turvy mess.”

  “What's that?” she asked looking into his eyes.

  “I want you.” His lips claimed hers again.

  This time, the touch drove Daisy straight into a maelstrom of confused sensations. Desire. Fear. Uncertainty. Infatuation. She cupped Colin's face in both hands and took charge of the kiss. His hands on her back slipped lower, cupping her bottom.

  It seemed the most natural thing in the world for Daisy to let her thigh slip over his hip. He arched his torso, grinding her intimate places against his rigid heat. Liquid warmth pooled at the place their bodies touched.

  After the madness of that wedding and everything that surrounded it, I didn't expect a wedding night. And yet, Colin's touch brought her back to those precious hours when he had felt like a dream man. He's much more complex than that, she admitted to herself, and part of the idyll was that I could remember him in his perfection and never need to embrace him as a whole person. The real man, the man she had yet to learn, had changed again. Now he wants us it seems. A real marriage. Starting now.

  She tangled her tongue with his, enjoying his pleasured growls.

  He fisted his hands in the fabric of her nightgown, until it bunched around her waist, leaving her most intimate places bare. Only then did she notice how little he wore. Only a pair of ragged drawers and an undershirt.

  Somehow, though she'd always assumed she would marry and share intimacy with a man, she had never quite visualized the moment when her bare, intimate parts touched him. Or when he touches them, she realized with a start, as he began to stroke and squeeze her naked bottom. Though the unaccustomed touch felt strange, the tingling and the wetness in the secret opening of her body told her all was well.

  Her grip on his cheeks turned to a caress. She traced the lines of his face, feeling the carved grooves, the rough stubble, the fine bone structure. His tongue swirled in her mouth. His erection, still covered by his undergarments, jabbed at the juncture of her thighs.