“You shall have to be patient, Clarence. You must promise me that you shall not go off half-cocked. I don’t want you to interact with Sir Wilfrid or Lord Broadway at all. Is that understood?” Valentine asked.
“I cannot let them hurt Ann’s mother. She loves her mother dearly.”
“You don’t have to worry, mate,” Tiny said. “Lady Broadway is being watched. Should Sir Wilfrid move against her—we will move against them. We are not the only ones who know how to handle men like them. We called upon a few of our old mates who have returned from India, and from across the Pond. They needed something to occupy their time, and they didn’t mind taking the gingerbread we offered them as well. They aren’t as full of juice as we are.”
“Do you trust them?” Clarence asked softly.
“I do,” Gideon said. “We all do.”
Henry nodded his head, and so did Valentine, Gil, Freddie, Lewis and Micah.
“I placed some of my men around her as well, and they will be watching Evesham Hall,” Edward said. “Felix and Gil will go along with you as extra security, along with a few of their other mates. Valentine told me that most of your staff at Evesham Hall are getting on in years. They won’t be much help, should Sir Wilfrid try to stir up trouble, whilst you are in the Country. You mustn’t fret, Clarence. Enjoy your new life as a married man. Make Ann happy, and give her the jolliest Christmas she has ever had.”
“I…I feel as if I should do something—I feel so utterly useless.”
“Why?” Edward asked. “Accepting our help isn’t a sign of weakness. Let us relieve your worries during this trying time.”
His father nodded his head. “Edward is quite right. Let your family do what needs to be done. Christmas is almost upon us, and I do believe that we shall all like to enjoy ourselves.”
“Indeed,” Edward said. “Now, then, I think my wife probably wants to go back to our townhouse, but I do so miss Lark Hall. Lark House is delightful…but nothing equals the splendor of Lark Hall, nestled in the beautiful countryside of Wiltshire. Congratulations again, Clarence, and take heart, lad. All will be well.”
He stiffened a bit. He hated being called lad, although, he knew that to men his father’s age, that was how they regarded him. Even though he was married now, he was still a boy to them.
“Thank you, Uncle Edward. Thank you everyone. I do appreciate the way that you all have rallied around me.”
“You are our mate, Clarence,” Felix said. “We stick by our mates.”
“Aye,” the rest of them said.
“I shall take my leave now, and go and check on Ann. I daresay this night shan’t end the way it was supposed to.”
“You will have plenty of time for that when you go to the Country. I find that winter is a particularly romantic time of year, and Christmas—well, Christmas makes it even more magical.” His father winked at him, and Clarence sighed. Nodding to them all, he left the Library.
“Clarence, wait for me,” Cyril called.
He sighed, and turned to look at his brother. His brother wore a cheeky grin, and his eyes danced as if he was holding back a particularly jolly joke.
“What would you like, Cyril?”
“Don’t forget to admire her lovely eyes, her lovely neck, and her lovely bosom. Recite your poetry to her that should endear her to you, and make her welcoming of your passionate embrace.” Clarence chuckled. Under normal circumstances, he would have risen to Cyril’s unspoken challenge, but he didn’t have the heart for it tonight. “Clarence, don’t worry about Ann. It will all turn out for the best. You will see. No harm shall come to her.”
“Thanks, Cyril. Try as I might, I don’t think I can stop worrying about her.”
“I know, but try, eh? Carpe diem, and all of that. And whatever you do, don’t think about that bloody canker blossom, Sir Wilfrid, or that sanguine coward, Lord Broadway.”
“Canker blossom?” he asked, chuckling again.
“I like Shakespeare.” Cyril shrugged his shoulders.
“You always have been bright as a button.”
“Oh, lud, Clarence. I ain’t a boy anymore. Don’t treat me like one,” Cyril said scowling.
“Mayhap. But you’re still younger than me.” Laughing, he walked away from his brother, with a skip in his step.
Life as he knew it, might not be as grim as he had thought only minutes before. He would keep Ann safe—or die trying.
Chapter Eleven
Ann sat up, and dried her tears.
She had been crying her eyes out, and now, there was no more time for tears. She had to compose herself, and try to do her duty tonight. She glanced at the clock, and sighed. The time had slipped away on her. Had she cried herself to sleep?
It was nearly eleven o’clock! She quickly rang for her maid, and waited for her arrive. She needed to hasten out of her dress. Out of her undergarments, and put on her nightgown. Then, she had to muster the nerve to open the door that connected their bedchambers, and go to him, or invite him to come to her.
She didn’t know how any of this worked. She didn’t know what was expected of her, and had a hunch that Clarence knew more than she. He had to—after all, he was the man, and men were supposed to be wise to the ways of the world that women were cloistered away from.
Her mother had prepared her for her wedding day, the day she had debuted on the marriage mart. She had told her to do her duty, and not to expect any pleasure for a good while, but she could expect some pain. I think her mother thought she was preparing her and she’d been so mysterious about it all that she had only heightened her fears, rather than lessening them.
She chewed her at her lower lip. Worrying it was a habit she had yet to break, and she usually chewed her lips raw on a bad day. She also chewed on her fingernails, so she had two bad habits, and she didn’t think that Clarence had one. She was a bloody wreck. He was a ruddy paragon of virtue. She was so flawed in comparison. Oh, no. What was she going to do? How could she proceed? Should she just undress and go back to bed and wait for him to come to her? She still hadn’t unlocked the door that joined their chambers, and she wasn’t certain if she wanted to—but she had to—it was her duty.
Her maid knocked at her door, and she answered it. Seeing Clarence standing there waiting for her instead shocked her to no end. She didn’t quite know how to recover. He constantly surprised her. Whenever she thought she had him figured out, he threw a rub in the way.
“You were supposed to be my maid. I…as you see, my lord, I am not ready for you—you must wait until I am ready to receive you,” she said, her voice cracking with emotion. She sounded bloody petrified—she sounded as if she was about to die of fear.
“What…come again?” he asked. He looked a little peaky. His eyes were filled with worry, and that made her fret about what he was worrying about.
“I…uh,” she stammered, “I…I haven’t changed into my nightgown yet, Clarence. As you see.”
“Yes, indeed. I do like what I see,” he paused, and looked at her thoughtfully, his beautiful eyes swept over the full length of her body and lit with approval, “Oh, now I understand. Well, you don’t have to. I can help you get undressed. It would be my pleasure—and my honour.”
His statement thrilled her in a dangerous way. She stepped backward, and sighed, “Oh, no, Clarence that wouldn’t do at all. No, not at all. It…uh…well, aren’t we supposed to climb into bed fully clothed, and then…well, and then you have your way with me, in the dark?”
His astonished gaze made her want to start chewing her lip again. He paused, and then, with his eyes still wide open, he started to laugh…at her! His laughter enveloped her, and echoed around her. It might even carry down to what was left of the guests.
How could he do that to her?
She could feel her cheeks flaming red. Now, she was completely mortified. Reacting entirely upon the hurt feelings he had wrought within her, she slammed her bedroom door in his face, and then, pressed her body against it, so he couldn’
t open it without a good deal of effort.
No one save for her brother and her father had ever ridiculed her thus. No one except for the bullies in her life ever treated her like that. Tears welled in her eyes, and then quickly, her pain turned to anger. She’d had quite enough of men laughing at her, and having Clarence do it, felt like the ultimate betrayal.
She realized too late that she hadn’t locked the door that connected their two rooms. It creaked open, and she groaned. “Clarence, you just march yourself back into that room. Go on. Take your arse and disappear from my sight, this instant. I command it.”
“I don’t think I want to do that, Ann,” he said softly.
“I don’t give a toss what you feel like, Clarence. You just laughed at me. You are being quite unreasonable. I am not ready for you…so,” she said loudly, pointing her arm imperiously at the door he had just entered through, “hightail your bottom back into that room, now…now, go…” she said, her nerve faltering.
“My bottom?” he asked, his eyes dancing with mirth. “Oh, Ann, you do fascinate me.”
“And you confound me. You are rubbing me the wrong way, Clarence Deville.”
“I…I wouldn’t want to rub you the wrong way, Ann. I do think you would rather have me rub you the right way,” he said silkily. “We would both enjoy that.”
She couldn’t let her resolve falter. Not even if his words made her feel as if she would melt into a puddle. “I am quite irked at you. I am quite vexed.”
“Ah, so you are cross at me again? I told you this would happen. I warned you I wouldn’t always act like the saintly prince you think—or thought I was. I told you I would act like a proper pillock at some point in time. That is just me, I cannot seem to help it, and I daresay I shall never change. As you see, I am not perfect. But then, I always believed my imperfections to be quite charming.”
She chewed her lower lip. He said he wasn’t perfect, but he bloody well looked the part right now. He was almost too handsome for his own good. His dark wavy hair, and his intense emerald green eyes, and that adorable cleft in his chin, was enough to make anyone swoon—and she was pretty close to succumbing. She sighed deliciously. It was a sin the way that he had been gifted such a dashing demeanor. He could charm the sourest of dispositions. He could make an old hag feel and act like a young maiden again.
Dash it all, she was dished.
She was supposed to be mad at him. He conflicted her emotions. He made her feel all topsy-turvy.
Wasn’t she?
“You could turn a sinner into a saint, Clarence,” she whispered, sighing heavily.
“I don’t know about that. I am more interested in turning a saint into a sinner,” he said silkily. His hypnotic voice could make her do his bidding. She sighed, and decided to stay stalwart. He had insulted her. He had mocked her. He had laughed at her. She had to make a stand. She had to make him see how very affected she was by his bad behaviour. She couldn’t always indulge him. No…no, sometimes she had to draw a line in the sand. Sometimes, she had to do it the hard way.
“You made fun of me, Clarence. You hurt my feelings.”
“So, I made you feel something at least,” he countered, carefully closing what little space still existed between them.
“You always make me feel something,” she gasped, and clapped her hand over her mouth. Had she just said that? Now she had shown her weakness to him. Oh, bother.
He smiled, and it lit up the room, basking her in its warmth. She groaned again, and backed away from him. “You, sir, may stay right where you are. Don’t you move an inch, I shan’t have you leading me into temptation. No. I refuse to allow it—I won’t do it, do you hear? I shan’t allow it.”
“Husbands are supposed to lead their wives into temptation, Ann. It is a cardinal rule of marriage.”
“No, it isn’t, Clarence. You made that up.” He did make that up, didn’t he? She knew precious little about these things. Oh, what a sheltered life she had led.
“But it sounded awfully good, didn’t it?” he asked softly, his eyes twinkling merrily.
“I relent. Everything you say sounds awfully good. You, have a gift for the gab. A silver tongue. You only need to command, and I shall obey. It is as simple as that, Clarence.”
“Now, where is the fun in that?” he asked, looking a little crestfallen.
“I do not know how to be a proper wife to you,” she confessed, looking away from him. Her admission made her feel hot once again. “I don’t know what I am supposed to do—or what is expected of me. I know so precious little, it makes me feel quite small inside.” She was so embarrassed, and she didn’t want him to think less of her. She liked being adored. She knew she shouldn’t—but she had grown accustomed to it in the time since she had come to stay at Evesham House.
“What bride knows how to be a perfect wife, eh? For that matter, what groom knows how to be a perfect husband? And furthermore, I expect there are more perfect wives out there than there are perfect husbands. My father isn’t perfect, and that’s a fact. Almost everyone knows it, including my Mama. He has his foibles, though he has tried to make up for it since those blackguards shot Val and scared the hell out of us all.” His face lost its colour.
“You are thinking of Lady Ambleside and Sir Wilfrid now, aren’t you?” she asked softly.
“No,” he said hoarsely. “I am thinking about all of the danger that could befall you. You mustn’t worry about your mother—she is being guarded against any attempt on her life—and she shan’t even know they are there.”
“Thank you, Clarence. I knew I could rely upon you,” she said softly.
“But if I ever thought you were in terrible peril. I don’t know what I would do. If anything dire happened to you—I just might lose my mind. I would go mad, Ann. Do you understand? I would go straight to Bedlam. You must promise me to take care. Pray, don’t take any risks and stick with me, Lucky or Tiny, at all times. Never ever go anywhere in public without a capable guardian at your side. I must have your promise, Ann, darling.”
“If that is what you want—then, I shall do it. You have my promise.” It was an easy enough request to fulfill. She worried that he might ask something else of her—something she would not be able to give him.
“As for that. Don’t always agree with me, Ann. I liked it when you had your temper riled. I delighted in seeing you in such a spirited state—you looked so bloody beautiful. It excited me. You were quite right to chastise me. You were right to rebuke me. I think…I think I shall do exactly what you told me to do, and I shall go back to my own bedchamber. I shan’t make you do anything that you feel as if you are beholden to do. No. I won’t. I shan’t have you coming to me out of a sense of wifely duty. No, indeed,” he murmured. She was hanging on his every word, and what he was saying now disappointed her deeply. She didn’t want him to leave. Not anymore, anyway. “I want a wife who is my equal and who shall give me a challenge. Not a meek and mild creature, who has absolutely no fire burning inside of her, who only agrees with me and does whatever I want her to do. It would be quite boring and rather tedious, to live that life, don’t you agree? After all, you have to be my partner in life, and sometimes, I like to get into mischief, and if you don’t want to get into mischief with me, I shan’t have any fun. I want a wife with some spirit, some spunk. A wife who can be corky.”
“Then, Clarence,” she said sadly, her heart shattering into a million pieces. “You shouldn’t have married me.”
*****
Clarence sighed. He wanted to raise her ire again, but he couldn’t think of how to do it. He desperately needed to conjure the spirited Ann back into being. She had to have her passions heightened somehow. He just had to stir them up a bit. All he had to do was recreate what had infuriated her so much only minutes before. She had a corky personality hiding under her calm and timid exterior. He had always seen it—now, he just had to encourage it to rear its beautiful head a bit more. He wanted to have her eyes lit like burning amber. He wanted to
see her nostrils flared, and watch her as she placed her hands on her hips, and then point at him, as if she could make him come to attention and obey her without any kind of a struggle. He didn’t want to make love to her with her only letting him into her bed because she thought she had to. There would be absolutely no pleasure in that for him. He wanted to know that his wife wanted him—that she needed him. If Ann didn’t love him yet—he at least wanted her to want him, and he would have her speak those words aloud to him.
“I shan’t say anything to vex you, Ann. I want to be a dutiful husband. I aim to please you. I shall return to my bedchamber so you can admit your maid, and have her help you change into your nightgown. Once you are ready, please climb under your bedclothes, but first, do rap soundly on my door so I shall know when I have to come in and have my wicked way with you—in the dark.”
Her eyes fired up, as he talked. Amber flames danced within their brilliant depths. “You are…you’re mocking me again,” she said incredulously.
“I am?” he asked innocently, before she lunged at him.
What she didn’t know is that her maid wouldn’t be coming—not tonight anyway. He had dismissed her when he had seen her walking toward Ann’s bedchamber, and told her to go to bed. She had curtsied, and obeyed him. His staff he expected to obey him—his wife—well, he wanted her to give him a little bit of trouble. Otherwise, he didn’t think he could have a bit of a jolly. He liked to tease, and see the reaction. If she wouldn’t rise to the bait…it wouldn’t be enjoyable at all.
He caught her, and laughing, he held her close. She pounded her hands against his chest, and it didn’t really affect him at all. She had to learn how to hit harder. Now his sisters, they knew how to hit, and they could thank him and Cyril for that talent.
Clarence kissed the middle of her forehead, then, the tip of her nose, and finally he claimed her beautiful rosy red lips. She clumsily put her hands up to twine them in his hair, and she must have been standing on her tiptoes because he wasn’t leaning down much. This was bliss. He had waited so long to have her like this, and now he was savouring every heavenly moment.
His Christmas Angel (A Regency Holiday Romance Book 8) Page 12
