The Viscount's Bride (Love's Pride Book 2)

by G. L. Snodgrass

  Forever. She would have him here forever if she could. The comforting protectiveness of him laying on her filled her with a warm glow. The continued throbbing inside made her hold him tight as a second wave washed over her. Not as intense as the first but just as delectable.

  She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, capturing his smell, chronicling the feel of him in her arms.

  It is only tonight; she thought with sadness. But no matter what happened. They could never take this away from her. She had known what it felt like to be a woman.

  Alexander slowly regained control of his breathing and gently rolled to the side. She felt the loss of him as both a physical and mental pain. Something to be avoided.

  Oh Caroline, what have you done? Her mind began to travel in a million different directions as he pulled the blankets back up over both of them. She grasped them to her chin as she lay on her back.

  What now? Did he go back to his room? The thought saddened her. Was she supposed to say something? Thank you seemed so inadequate. Trite almost. What was she supposed to do? She hated not knowing what was expected of her.

  Next to her, Alexander turned and smiled. She just knew that he could read her mind and knew every thought that passed through her head.

  She shyly smiled back and then felt her cheeks burst into flames once again. Why was he looking at her like that? Why was she embarrassed? What was it about this man that a simple look of his could fluster her so much?

  Laughing to himself, he slid a hand under her shoulder and pulled her into a hug. Her head naturally seemed to fit into the hollow of his shoulder. Oh, the pure pleasure of being held like this. It could cause a woman to never move again.

  “Rest my dear. We have the entire night.”

  Caroline bit her lip and snuggled into his shoulder. But her mind refused to rest. Refused to just accept. Instead, it worried and poked at her. She had to know.

  “Was everything adequate?” she asked, holding her breath while she waited for an answer.

  His chest rumbled under her hand when he laughed gently. “Oh, my dear. No man has ever enjoyed a more perfect wedding night. I assure you.”

  His words soothed her. He was being honest with her she knew. There was no reason for him to worry about her feelings.

  This was a marriage of convenience she reminded herself for the thousandth time. He did not have to worry about her emotions or feelings. Heaven knew that he had already brought much more to the marriage that she ever could.

  Content that he was happy she relaxed and slowly drifted off to sleep in his arms. Her dreams filled with thrusting spears and exploding stars.

  A soft caress along her waist woke her from a gentle sleep. Alexander was kissing her breasts. Oh, the heaven. She reached around him and pulled him close.

  He gasped and pulled away from her, wincing. What had she done? Oh my god, had she hurt him. The look of pain on his face crushed her soul.

  He saw her concern and weakly smiled, trying to reassure her.

  “It is all right. Everything will be all right in a minute,” he said as he twisted to adjust his shoulders.

  “What is it, what did I do?”

  “It is not your fault; you didn’t know.”

  “Know what,” she asked.

  He turned his back to her and said, “See the scar about two inches below my shoulder blade.”

  A small nasty blemish marred his perfect form. “Yes,” she said as she gently reached out to caresses it.

  He flinched away from her touch. “I should have warned you. There is still a piece of French shrapnel in there. Thomas couldn’t dig it out. It seems to be lodged in a rib. A rather bothersome object. Though Tomas says it might very well work its way free someday.” He paused. “Anyway, sometimes, when the scar is touched just right, it becomes rather painful. It doesn’t last. And Thomas says I am in no danger.”

  Her heart went out to him. What had he gone through during the war? He had several other scars she noticed. Did they hurt him as well?

  Caroline’s lips pouted in concern. “I am sorry,” she said.

  “That is perfectly all right,” he answered. “My body is yours. You may touch and explore and caress however you like.”

  She smiled at the thought. He was hers, at least for now. A burning need to learn everything possible about him washed through her. Putting her concern aside, she decided to take him up on his offer.

  Gently pushing him back onto the bed she began to do as she wished. Caressing and exploring until every question was answered, every need met.

  They made love, slowly, with a languorous pace that touched her heart then once again they fell asleep in each other’s arms.

  Early the next morning she awoke to the dark. The fire had long since burnt away. Leaving a sharp charcoal smell to the air. A bird chirped outside the window at the approaching dawn.

  She snuggled into him, soaking up his warmth. Her skin next to his. Life was good. She could very well have risen to a cold hovel on the Dorset coast. Instead, she was in the arms of this beautiful man. Yes, life was good.

  Smiling to herself, in fact, unable to stop smiling, she once again fell asleep.

  Chapter Eleven

  Alexander awoke to a soft rustling. He felt the emptiness around him and frowned. Where was she and why wasn’t she in his arms? He had hoped to make love one more time. One last time before they started their arrangement.

  Oh, what had he done? She had been delightful. Innocence wrapped in curiosity with a touch of brazen hussy and sultry princess. All of it enclosed in a beautiful, electrifying package of wonderful woman.

  A brief memory of the death of Corporal David Jones flashed into his mind. Pulling him away from thoughts of his bride. Jones had been a Welsh lad. The first man killed under his command.

  It had torn him apart. Over-identification with his troops, the Major called it. He’d become useless. The loss had torn him apart.

  He’d learned, though. Do not get attached. Don’t care then you aren’t hurt when they are taken from you.

  It’s a good lesson, he reminded himself. Do not get attached. Besides, the last thing he needed was some woman placing demands upon him. The entire reason for this marriage was to avoid a demanding wife.

  If she ever learned that he cared for her. She’d use that to control his life. Change him. No. He wasn’t going to let that happen.

  A trip up north. That was what he needed.

  A soft rustle came from the morning shadows. She was getting dressed.

  He rolled to his side to watch. Smiling to himself as her shift slowly fell over that perfectly round rear end. He ached to reach out and grab it and pull it back into bed.

  Frowning he rolled over and looked away. Giving her privacy.

  She agreed to one night he reminded himself. A wedding night only. Nothing more. This marriage was for his benefit. He could not and should not expect anything more. Not unless he was willing to give more himself.

  Something more than financial support and his protection.

  Caroline was a special girl he realized. She could be hurt, easily. She pretended to be strong and fearless. But he could tell, it would be easy for her to expect more from him. To be hurt when he couldn’t deliver.

  The idea of disappointing her bothered him for some reason. An unusual thought for him when it came to a woman. Really, he must put that thought behind him. It was best if he left before they became any closer.

  Was he worried about her losing her heart or him losing his? He wondered. He immediately shut that thought down and shuddered. There was no benefit exploring the idea.

  Instead, he swung his legs over the side of the bed. She turned and smiled weakly. Her cheeks blushed with that perfect pink color that pulled at his heart. She was embarrassed he realized. He found her continued innocence endearing.

  Standing, he pulled her into a quick embrace and kissed her on the forehead.

  “Thank you, my dear,” he said. Hugging her one last time
. Keep it simple he told himself. No emotional drama. No long goodbyes. Best to establish reality.

  Her eyes misted for a moment. Her brows narrowed in confusion.

  “You’re leaving?” she asked.

  She was hurt. That bothered him. More than it should have. Taking a breath he nodded.

  “Yes, I must be off. I have business in the Lake District. I believe I informed you.”

  “Yes, you did,” she said. Her eyes drifted down over his naked body. The hungry look in her eyes was quickly replaced by a look of pain as she realized he was leaving her.

  “What of me? What am I supposed to do?” She asked. “Do I remain here until you return?”

  “No need to wait, my dear,” Alexander said as he reached for his britches. He couldn’t continue to stand there like that if the hungry look in her eyes remained.

  “You and your sisters,” he continued after putting on some clothes. “Can start your new life in London immediately. I have prepared letters of introduction to both my solicitor and banker. Johnson has them. He will accompany you and help you open up the Mayfair residence.”

  He knew it wasn’t enough but if he stayed she would be hurt even more at a later date. Best to move on now before she became attached.

  Aren’t you assuming an awful lot, he thought to himself. Maybe she could care less what you did. Heaven knew, there were more than enough men in London to capture her interest.

  No, he had seen that look in a woman’s eyes after a night of making love. It was the same look they got when they found a lost kitten or injured quail. A desire to hold him close and solve his problems.

  She bit her lip and slowly nodded her head.

  “Of course My Lord …”

  “Alexander,” he corrected.

  She hesitated for a moment then said. “I think it will be easier if I use your title. It is not a true marriage after all. No need to pretend otherwise.”

  The look of determination on her face shot a small pain to his heart. He hadn’t expected that.

  Yes, she was right. Of course, it would be easier if they remained formal with each other.

  He nodded his head in acceptance, then said, “I will be off then. I won’t stay to wish your sister’s farewell. If I leave now, I can make it in three days.”

  “Of course My Lord. I will pass them your good wishes,” she said with a small curtsy. Something about seeing her curtsy in a simple shift made him angry. Why was he angry? He wondered? This was what they both wanted - wasn’t it? It was the only way this could work.

  Bowing his head he grimaced and returned to his own room.

  As the door closed behind him, a sickening weight settled over him as if he had lost an opportunity. An opportunity for something great. The thought made him angry.

  The worse part was having no idea what it might have been and no idea where to lay fault.

  .o0o.

  Caroline caressed the wax seal. A hawk grasping a rose. Alexander’s coat of arms. Her coat of arms now, she reminded herself. They secured the letters Johnson had given her after Alexander had left Armherst.

  Was he at his Lake District estates yet she wondered. Was there someone there he was in a hurry to see? Some other woman making him smile.

  Sighing to herself, she looked out the carriage window. London. The center of the world. The smell of horses and the Thames at low tide assaulted her. Home, she thought. It was a smell that told her she was home.

  “I still don’t understand why Alexander didn’t accompany us,” Alice asked with a perfect pout.

  “His Lordship,” Caroline corrected.

  “He told us to call him Alexander,” Beatrice said. As if that was all that mattered.

  “Yes, well, I would prefer that you refer to him as His Lordship. As I told you. He had business to the north that needed his attention. We must remember that it is not his responsibility to entertain us.”

  “But when will he come to London?” Alice asked with a pout. As if it were her older sister’s fault somehow that he had not accompanied them.

  Caroline sighed. She so did not want to talk about this. It had been hard enough leaving Armherst but she couldn’t imagine staying without his Lordship. He was right. They needed to start their new lives.

  James had cried when he found out she was leaving. He’d only settled down when she had promised him that she would return to visit and that maybe his brother might bring him to London.

  “If he does. I will take you to the Tower of London, to the museums,” she had told him. The realization that if James came to London then His Lordship would have to bring him made her feel guilty.

  “Maybe we could visit the King’s own house guard or even your brother’s regiment.”

  The boy had immediately stopped crying. His eyes lit up at the possibility of seeing real soldiers. Caroline knew that she had lit a flame that was going to pester his lordship until he had to take the boy to London. She immediately squashed any guilt. She refused to acknowledge that her actions had any ulterior motive.

  “How much longer?” Beatrice asked with that whiny voice of hers. Bringing her back to the current reality. The girls had spent too much time cooped up in carriages over the last week.

  “Soon,” she said. No sooner had the words left her mouth when she heard Jake, the coachmen yelling at the horses and pulling the carriage to a stop.

  Surrounded by a black, iron fence. The new house looked out over the park. A prime location. Built of white marble, the imposing building seemed too big for one family. Even a rich one.

  All of the shutters were closed. Locked against the world. She’d been informed that a caretaker patrolled the grounds to keep away vagrants. But the house would be dark and cold until they made it a home.

  Not as dark and cold as a Dorset hovel though. The thought made her smile.

  Johnson stood at the top of the stairs waiting for her and the girls.

  “I thought you might want to be the first to enter My Lady,” he said. He had tried to convince her to wait at Armherst until he had the house ready for them. She had insisted they come immediately. She could not stay at Armherst. Not without Alexander.

  “Thank You Johnson,” she said with a nod indicating he should open the door.

  The door swung open with a slight high pitched creak. The hinges would need to be oiled. The first item on a long list she thought to herself.

  Inside it was dark. A black cavern. Complete emptiness to greet them.

  “I have candles, My Lady,” Johnson said as he used an oil lamp from the coach to light the first candle then used that candle to light another. He handed one to her.

  “Should I go first, My Lady?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.

  Caroline could tell that he did not want her to enter first. That natural male protectiveness stepping forward. She smiled and shook her head.

  “It will be all right Johnson,” she said as she cupped her hand around the candle flame. Stepping into the house, she slowly turned.

  The weak yellow light was increased as the new butler handed more candles to the people following her. The black and white marble floor echoed with their steps as they spread out to light more candles and throw open the shutters.

  A large entrance hall greeted them. Two staircases climbed to the upper floors. The Mirrors and furniture were covered in dusty sheets.

  Caroline didn’t know what to think. A feeling of size and permanence washed through her. It was bigger than their previous home. Much bigger. And gigantic compared to her father’s Dorset cottage.

  You are to be the mistress of this house; she told herself. It would be her responsibility for turning it from a cold collection of brick and iron into a home. She and a dozen servants that is.

  What if Alexander didn’t like it? He’d told her that she could make any changes she wanted. He will rarely see it. Why should she worry what he thought?

  Alice sneezed loudly. The dust layer over everything was thicker than a baker’s bread pan.<
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  Johnson frowned. He obviously wasn’t pleased with them seeing the house like this. The girl couldn’t tolerate a hint of dust. The idea of Alice cleaning up after mice in Dorset sent a shudder through her entire body. Once again she silently thanked her hero.

  “Let’s find our rooms,” Caroline said to the girls. “You will get to decide which one you want.” They wouldn’t be sleeping in a fisherman’s loft tonight.

  “Hampton, just place our trunks here until we decide which room will be which.”

  “Yes Ma’am,” he said. How different Ma’am sounded. Every time she was reminded that she was married. At least in name.

  Chapter Twelve

  Caroline opened her book and adjusted herself to find a comfortable position. Before starting the story, she looked around the study. The one room in the house, she had not redecorated.

  It was a manly room of wood, books, and a large fireplace with a white marble mantle. A fireplace that put out a significant amount of heat on a rainy day like this.

  It had become her favorite room. It reminded her of the study at Armherst. She would use the parlor of course if they ever had guests. An event that didn’t look ever to happen. But this room was perfect for some quiet time alone. Between the girls and the servants, it seemed that only she could decide every little detail.

  She glanced out the window to the gray day. Raindrops worked their way down the pane of glass. A quick shudder passed over her shoulders, thankful they weren’t in Dorset on such a day. They’d have been running a bucket brigade to keep up with all the leaks.

  Once again, as she did almost every day, she silently thanked the Viscount for rescuing her and her sisters.

  Where is he right now, she wondered? Was he still in the Lake District? Perhaps he was on the road, traveling in this rain. Making his way back to Armherst. She hoped he would find shelter. Take care of himself. Or was he in the arms of his lover. Both of them curled up in bed together.

  Her heart hitched. Don’t Caroline, she said to herself. You can’t go down that road.