Bought: The Penniless Lady
Page 17
“Good morning.” His voice did not come out in its usual deep pitch, but cracked like a stripling youth’s. In his haste to release the lock of her hair wound around his finger, he tugged too hard, making her wince.
“Forgive me!” The words were out before he could contain them.
But words alone were not enough. He pressed a kiss to Artemis’s head, where he’d pulled her hair. “Not only for that, but for last night.”
“Last night?” She brushed a stray curl off her forehead. “What have you to be sorry for about last night?”
Hadrian hesitated. It galled him to admit he’d erred, even to Artemis. “I did not keep my promise to initiate you as gently as any maid ever was.”
“Oh, that.” She made it sound like a trifle. “I am quite content that you kept the better half of your promise, to initiate me as pleasurably as any maid ever was.”
Enough pleasure to outweigh the hurt? That reassurance brought Hadrian a dizzying sense of relief. But it did not change his mind about the danger of continuing what he’d so recklessly started last night.
“Besides,” Artemis added, “I have heard it gets easier after the first time.”
She cast him a look that was far too inviting.
“So it does.” He edged away from her, worried that the temptation of her nearness and willingness might overpower his honorable intentions. “But I reckon it would be better…if we…not…”
He struggled to find the proper words to free himself from the tangled maze into which he’d so eagerly stumbled.
“I understand. Once with me was enough for you.” Artemis sat up abruptly and slid toward her side of the bed, leaving a rusty stain of dried blood on the sheets as proof that he’d taken her virginity. “I tried to tell you I would be a disappointment. Perhaps this time you should have heeded a naysayer.”
After last night, could those old, poisonous doubts about herself still linger? Hadrian could not let her suffer for his mistake.
“Nay, lass!” He scrambled after Artemis, capturing her in his embrace before she could flee. “Disappointed is the last thing I was. I am not sure your parents named you after the proper goddess. Last night, I could have sworn I had Venus herself in my arms.”
She looked every inch the love goddess this morning, with her wild, dusky curls unbound. Her loose white chemise and short stays even resembled a woman’s garment of ancient times.
She did not melt into his arms as he’d hoped, but remained tense and wary, her face hidden against his shoulder. “Venus—isn’t that what they call those women who hire themselves to men? I knew I behaved too wantonly! I made you doubt my innocence. But I swear, it was because of my inexperience. If you will only have patience and teach me how I should behave, I will do my best to please you.”
Raising her face, she fixed him with a gaze that pleaded for another chance. How could he find the will to resist when his body ached to surrender?
Perhaps he could let Artemis have her way long enough to quell any lingering doubts she might have about her ample attractions. “I promise you, there was nothing wrong with your behavior. It was what any proper man would want from a beautiful woman in his bed. And better than most would dare hope.”
“Then why did you not want to…try again?” Artemis sounded torn between hope and uncertainty.
She was too clever a woman to be persuaded by anything but the truth…at least part of it. “You made me lose control of myself last night. No woman has ever done that to me before.”
“And you did not like it?”
“Quite the contrary! Have you ever done something that scared you half to death, yet gave you such a thrill you’d never felt more alive?”
After a moment’s thought, she replied with a furtive nod. “One winter when I was young, Papa unearthed an old sleigh from the stables and took me for a drive over the high weald. I’d never gone so fast. I squealed and screamed the whole time, certain we would crash and I’d be dashed to pieces. But when we were safely back in the courtyard, I begged Papa to take me again.”
She glowed with the delight of that long-slumbering memory. “And I made you feel that way?”
Even as he nodded, Hadrian sensed only one thing would truly convince her.
Running the tip of his forefinger up her arm toward her shoulder, he flashed a crooked grin. “Would you like to try again? Not quite all the way this time, though. I reckon I can bring you pleasure while still giving your sore parts a rest.”
“Indeed?” She gave his bare chest an admiring caress. “And how do you propose to accomplish that?”
“Like this, for a start.” He inclined his head to graze his cheek over the linen chemise that covered her bosom. His grin widened when she let out a soft gasp and her nipples strained against the fine cloth, demanding his attention.
“That is a fine start.” Artemis gave a voluptuous sigh as she sank back onto the pillows. “I am curious to see what else you will do.”
She might not believe he owed her any recompense for his earlier loss of control, but Hadrian believed otherwise. He owed her another debt for enticing her into bed, despite her reluctance. He could not cast her aside simply because he was afraid of getting in too deep.
To prevent himself from dwelling on all the mistakes he’d made with Artemis, he cupped her chin and gently tilted her face until it was at the perfect angle for kissing. Then he kissed her, again and again, longer and deeper, until he could no longer think of anything else.
Chapter Fourteen
“Hadrian!” Artemis ran into her husband’s study, as she never would have dared into her uncles’ library, her voice louder than had ever been permissible at Bramberley. “Mrs. Matlock just brought me the post.”
Evidently the housekeeper had delivered his correspondence, too. The moment Artemis appeared, he thrust three letters into the top drawer of his writing table and pushed it shut.
“They’re coming!” She fluttered her letter under his nose. “Lord and Lady Kingsfold and all her family. Her ladyship wrote the most gracious reply, accepting our invitation. I never expected to hear from her so soon.”
For a moment he looked preoccupied, as if his mind were elsewhere. Then a silvery twinkle lit his gray eyes. “Splendid!”
He rose from the writing table, scooped her into his arms and twirled her around. “Well done, pet!”
It lasted only a few seconds, but to Artemis it seemed longer, though not half as long as she would have liked. She felt as if she were flying—weightless and carefree. But all too soon her feet hit the floor again, and her soaring spirits with them.
It had been over a week since Hadrian had truly made her his wife. But since then, though he’d been kind and attentive, he had not visited her bedchamber again. Warmly as she would have welcomed him, Artemis could not bring herself to beg for his company. Instead, she savored this fleeting moment in his arms, hoping it might lead to something more.
They were both breathing fast when they came to a stop. Hadrian still clasped Artemis around the waist, while she clung to his shoulders. He leaned closer, until she was lost in the impenetrable gray mist of his eyes. Her lips parted. She trembled in anticipation of his kiss.
Instead he let her go and stepped back so abruptly that she almost pitched to the floor.
“We have preparations to make.” Hadrian spoke in a tone of false heartiness. “When did you invite our guests to come?”
Artemis struggled to master her voice and her sickening disappointment. “I suggested several possible dates and let Lady Kingsfold choose. She writes that they can come three weeks from now and stay for at least a fortnight.”
“Perfect.” Hadrian backed toward his writing table. “That will give us time to order provisions, and get the old nursery converted into proper guest quarters. I was thinking, perhaps we could invite Ford’s old friend, Blade Maxwell, too. Blade was in Singapore during the very early days and used to stop by our godown most evenings for a drink. I’d like to see him again.
He was always good company.”
That gave Artemis an idea. “Is Mr. Maxwell a single gentleman? We could use one. Otherwise poor Susannah Penrose may feel like a complete gooseberry with three married couples.”
“I hadn’t thought of that.” Hadrian shook his head. “I’m afraid Blade will not suit your purpose. I heard he got married upon returning to England. He is now the Earl of Launceton.”
“Oh.” A brief pang of disappointment gave birth to a new possibility. “Then would you mind if I invite someone? If I can persuade him to come, I believe he would be an ideal addition to our house party.”
“By all means,” said Hadrian. “Who are you thinking of?”
“Jasper, Viscount Ashbury. I mentioned him to you once. He is a cousin of mine on my mother’s side.”
Hadrian chuckled. “Everyone of consequence in this country is a cousin of yours. Tell me, what makes Viscount Ashbury such an ideal guest?”
“Cousin Jasper is a Member of Parliament and a devoted abolitionist. He is something of a black sheep in our family on account of his radical Whig politics. I believe he would be as outraged as I was to hear how the mining industry employs young children. If we were to gain his support, Jasper might begin the work you intended Julian to undertake in Parliament.”
That would remove the full weight of responsibility from Lee’s small shoulders. Then perhaps Hadrian could begin to see their nephew for what he was—a little boy who needed a father’s love.
“You truly care about this cause.” Hadrian regarded her with a look of genuine admiration. “Perhaps if Julian had been raised by someone like you, he might have come to understand and care about the mission I wanted him to fulfill.”
Was that all she meant to him, Artemis wondered, a useful tool to further his plans?
“I have another reason for wanting to invite my cousin,” she explained. “For all his fiery oratory in the Commons, Jasper has always been painfully awkward with women. A vivacious girl like Susannah Penrose might be just the sort to draw him out.”
“Matchmaking, are you?” Hadrian shot her a teasing grin that lofted her spirits to dizzying heights. “That can be a dangerous occupation.”
Could anything be more dangerous, Artemis wondered, than losing her heart to a husband who might not want it?
With preparations to make for their house party, the summer days flew by faster than ever. While Artemis ordered supplies and planned menus, Hadrian drew up plans for a northern office of Vindicara. He wanted to be ready with facts and figures to discuss the venture with Ford. He also prepared for the discussion he hoped to have with Viscount Ashbury, gathering information on the numbers and ages of children employed in local mines.
A week before their guests were due to arrive, he met one afternoon with a pair of earnest young Methodists who were endeavoring to establish Sabbath schools in several mining villages. It was difficult to judge who left the meeting happier—the young men who received a generous endowment to assist with their work, or Hadrian who gave them the money. Bringing an end to the practice of employing children underground would be as long and difficult a task in its way as dragging those heavy-laden corves up from the coalface. Yet it heartened him to take this first small step.
He could hardly wait to tell Artemis about it over dinner. He knew she would share his enthusiasm. With a spring in his step, he bounded up the stairs and strode toward his bedchamber where he would wash up before dinner.
The nursery door stood ajar and as he passed it, the sweet gurgle of his nephew’s laughter wafted out. Lured by the sound, Hadrian approached quietly and peeped inside.
A porcelain bath basin sat on the floor, while Artemis knelt beside it cuddling their nephew. His small, plump body was swathed in towels, his skin bright pink and his wet hair a mass of soft curls. He laughed with giddy glee as his aunt kissed him again and again and blew raspberries against his cheeks.
Artemis was laughing, too. Not her usual self-conscious chuckle, but a warm, hearty gush of laughter.
“You are a silly goose, Lee Northmore.” She jiggled him in her arms, rubbing her nose against his. “A silly goose without a bill or a single feather. But you love to splash in the water, don’t you, my sweet little goosie?”
Lee squealed and giggled uncontrollably.
An almost forgotten brooding sensation swelled in Hadrian’s heart as he watched them. It reminded him of the first time he’d seen Margaret holding their infant daughter. That memory revived a host of buried regrets and fears.
He tried to steal away unnoticed. But when he stepped back, one of the floorboards betrayed him with a loud creak. Artemis glanced up and spied him. With a grimace of embarrassment, she hid her face in Lee’s towels.
Before Hadrian could retreat farther, she scrambled up from the floor and approached him, carrying the child. “Look, Lee. Uncle Hadrian has come to see you. Poor child, how old will you be before you can say our names properly? Bob and Ann would have been so much easier than Hadrian and Artemis.”
By the time the boy could pronounce his name, Hadrian knew he would be back in Singapore.
“Ba!” Lee flailed his arms toward Hadrian. “Ba-ba-ba!”
“There, you see,” said Artemis. “That could be Bob or perhaps…Papa.”
That word drove an icy blade into his heart. “I did not mean to disturb you.” He backed away. “I was just passing.”
“And a lucky thing, too.” Artemis bundled his nephew into his arms. “Lee has hardly seen you lately. I believe he’s missed you.”
“Rubbish.” Hadrian tried to resist the fresh-scrubbed smell of Lee and the warm weight that filled his empty arms. “He is too young to have any idea who I am.”
“He may not be able to say your name properly or understand what relation you are to him, but he’s taken to you in a way he has to few other people.” Artemis sounded as if she were telling him something he might want to hear. “It began that first afternoon we met you on our way back to Bramberley. Remember how he latched on to your leg and clung for dear life? I was afraid I might tear your breeches prying him off.”
“I remember.” Trying to curb the grin that tugged at the corner of his mouth, Hadrian pretended to scold his nephew. “You were a naughty wee scamp, putting your poor aunt in such an awkward position.”
Some children might have thought he was in earnest and taken fright, but not Lee. He flung his arms around Hadrian’s neck, squeezing hard. “Papapa!”
“You see?” Artemis’s voice rang with a note of triumph. “He does know you. Could you not find a bit more time to spend with him?”
“What would be the use?” Hadrian’s mock scowl clenched into the real thing. “I will be gone before he is old enough to remember me.”
Artemis flinched. “So it doesn’t matter how you neglect him because he is only young? You sound like Uncle Henry.”
The warm, demonstrative woman Hadrian had come to know in the past several weeks seemed to retreat behind a stout barrier.
“That is not fair, and you know it. What good will come of encouraging an attachment, then disappearing out of his life?” Hadrian wished he’d thought of that before he made his way into her bed.
“You went to such great lengths to get Lee.” Artemis sounded puzzled and hurt. “I thought you cared about him. But all you really cared about was continuing the Northmore bloodline, wasn’t it? That and taking over the mission you set for his father.” She seized the child back from him. “Apart from those things you don’t give a damn about him, do you?”
He turned away. “You don’t understand.”
Lee did not like being taken from his uncle. He began to fuss. Hadrian fought the urge to cheer him up by making comical faces. He longed to wrap the child in his arms and protect him from anything that might harm or grieve him. But how could Hadrian do that when he was one of those hazards?
“You’re right,” said Artemis. “I do not understand and he cannot. All the same, I believe young children sense things a
t a deeper level than words or reason. Things that may influence how they grow to view themselves.”
Was she talking about their nephew, now, or herself? For all the deprivations of his early years, Hadrian had known deep in his bones that his parents loved him and believed in him.
“He has you to give him all those things, Artemis. I undertook to provide for his material needs. Remember our bargain?” Sensing this was a battle he could not win, Hadrian forced himself to walk away. If he did not retreat, his gallant opponent might exact a disastrous surrender.
“Of course I remember.” Her passionate reply dogged his footsteps, harrying his resolve. “At the time, I thought it was the perfect solution. I wanted Lee all to myself to love and care for. But you have shown me he needs more than that. He needs a father’s love and guidance…and firmness when it is warranted. He needs those things more than whatever luxuries your fortune can provide.”
She’d said far worse things to him when they’d first met, but Hadrian had been able to dismiss them without a qualm. Since Artemis had come to know him so well and he’d come to value her judgment so highly, that was no longer possible.
Did Hadrian view her darling nephew as nothing but a means to further his aims? That night Artemis tossed and turned in her bed, tormented by uncertainty. There’d been a time, not so long ago, when she would have believed it without question and despised him. Now that she knew the tragedies of Hadrian’s past and his dreams for the future, her feelings were vastly more complicated and she could not be certain of anything.
After several restless hours, she rose and donned her dressing gown. Then she crept down the stairs, hoping a breath of cool night air might soothe her troubled heart.
Her hand was on the latch of the great front door, when a quiet query reached out of the darkness behind her. “Not running away, are you?”
Her heart gave a fearful jolt against her ribs. Struggling to catch her breath, she spun about to face Hadrian. “I could not sleep, so I decided to step out for a bit of air. You are a fine one to talk of running away after the way you ran from Lee and me this afternoon.”