“It’s an explanation I am wanting from you,” he said, his voice as sharp-edged as a sword. “What do you mean by leaving the house without me? Do you nae have a care for your own safety?”
The arrogant demand had her bristling in instant defense. “I was hardly bereft of protection,” she retorted, furious he should dare lecture her after leaving her to her own devices for the better part of the evening. “I had a footman with me, and the coachman is carrying a pistol. I was perfectly safe.”
“Aye, a pimple-faced boy and a doddering old man who is as like to put a bullet through himself as through a footpad,” he shot back, plainly unimpressed with her escorts. “London is the most dangerous city in the world, and I will not have you going out alone again, do you hear?”
Caroline’s jaw dropped in astonishment. “You won’t have?” she repeated furiously. “May I remind you, sir, that I have lived the whole of my life in London? I am more than capable of getting to and from a soiree without being attacked.”
“And if you were attacked?” he demanded, leaning forward to grab her arm. “What then, my fine lady? What would you do to save yourself?”
The grip of his fingers hurt, but it was the waves of icy anger emanating from him that frightened her most. “Will you kindly let go of my arm?” she asked, seeking refuge behind a facade of cold pride. “You are hurting me.”
He released her at once, but didn’t shift away. “What you may have done before is of no matter to me,” he said, his voice all the more intense for its softness. “It’s what you do now that counts. You are my wife, Caroline MacColme; I took a sacred vow to protect you, and protect you I will, despite how you may feel about it. Is that plain enough for you?”
Caroline opened her lips indignantly, but then shut them without speaking. She’d been up since just after dawn, and the toll of the endless hours and the stress of the day’s events was suddenly overwhelming. Pride and protest would have to wait, she decided with a weary sigh. She was too exhausted to care.
“Aye,” she said stiffly, moving away from him to lean back against the seat. “It’s plain enough.”
Now he’d done it, Hugh thought, studying the rigid figure of his wife. He’d set her back up good and proper, and he couldn’t say as he blamed her. Ordering her about and snapping at her had been a foolish thing to do, and he was deeply ashamed of himself for it. He would have to handle himself and her with a great deal more finesse if he hoped to make this marriage of theirs work. Which was not to say he meant to let her go racketing about free as she pleased, he amended, folding his arms across his chest and gazing out the window at the darkened streets. Now that he knew what that uncle of hers was up to, he was damned if he would let her out of his sight until they were safe inside his castle’s thick stone walls.
He’d spent the better part of the evening closeted with her solicitor, and what he’d learned appalled him. Her uncle had already begun investigating the process to have their marriage decreed invalid, and had gone so far as to hint that the very haste of the marriage showed how unstable his niece had become. The solicitor, a Mr. Garrett, was certain the earl’s efforts would be for naught, but Hugh was less convinced.
When he returned home to find Caroline had left for the soiree without him he’d all but choked on his panic, and he’d been in a fine temper when he’d gone storming into the drawing room. He’d been fully prepared to drag her out of there by her hair if that’s what it took, and he might have done just that had he not heard her defending him to that circle of simpering jackals.
For as long as he lived he would never forget the picture she made, looking like a queen in her dress of gold and silver, her chin held high as she declared him “a most worthy gentleman.” Had she meant it? he wondered. And if so, what did he intend doing about it? He spent the rest of the ride back to Hanover Street considering various intriguing possibilities.
The windows were ablaze with lights when the carriage rattled to a halt before the town house. Caroline gathered up her skirts in preparation of climbing out, and he reached out to lay a staying hand on her arm.
“The staff will have prepared a light supper for us,” he said, taking care to make his words a request instead of a command. “It would please me greatly if you would consent to dine with me. There are things we must discuss.”
She hesitated, and for a moment he feared she would refuse, but then she gave a dainty shrug. “If you wish,” she said, holding out her hand to the footman who had already opened the carriage door and was waiting to help them alight.
Her reply was hardly fulsome, but Hugh took comfort in the fact she hadn’t hurled the offer back in his face. They surrendered their cloaks to the waiting Begley and then went into the dining room, which had been set up in anticipation of their arrival. Per the instructions he’d issued before retrieving his bride, the table was laid out so that they could serve themselves without servants hovering over them.
“I didn’t know if you had eaten,” he said, holding out a chair for her. “But for myself, I’ve not eaten since we stopped on the road, and I am near to fainting from hunger.”
“I had some tea earlier, but I suppose I might have a bite of something,” she replied, and he thought he detected a slight thawing in her reserve as she took her seat. “I would not wish you to eat alone.”
The stiff words were as close to a peace offering as he was likely to get, and Hugh accepted them as such. After making certain she was comfortably settled, he moved to the sideboard where several covered dishes were sitting and began filling their plates. At her direction he placed a slice of salmon pie and cheese on her plate, and to make himself feel better he added some fresh fruit and beef to it as well. He dished up a similar meal for himself and then took his chair beside her. He’d just started eating when he saw the bottle of wine standing in the silver cooler, and his eyes lit with pleasure.
“Champagne,” he said, his mouth curving in a wry smile as he lifted up the bottle to examine it. “I’ve not had a drop since my men and I liberated a case from some French we captured.”
Her lips lifted in an answering smile. “Liberated?”
“A more respectable word than thieving,” he admitted, expertly removing the cork. “Although as spoils of war, the wine was ours to take. What a head we had the next morning,” he added, chuckling at a memory made poignant by the fact that many of the men who drank with him that night died in battle the very next afternoon. He poured some of the frothy wine for each of them before setting the bottle down.
“I know there were toasts aplenty this morning,” he said, handing her a glass. “But that was for the show of it. Now I would that we toast each other and mean it. To us, Caroline. To our marriage.”
He saw the confusion and distrust in her dark-blue eyes, and wondered if she would refuse. He held his breath, waiting, and then she lightly tapped her glass to his. “To us,” she said, raising the glass to her lips and drinking deeply.
He followed suit, savoring the burst of the wine upon his tongue and watching her. Her beauty stunned him as it always did, and he felt a flash of hot desire that was almost as potent as the exquisite champagne in his glass. This was his wedding night, and he gritted his teeth against the tantalizing images his fevered brain insisted upon conjuring.
“You said there were things we needed to discuss. May I ask what they might be?”
It took a moment for Caroline’s words to penetrate the sensual fog filling Hugh’s head, and another moment for them to make sense. He gave himself a mental shake, trying to think of something beside the ache in his body.
“I’ve spoken with your Mr. Garrett,” he said, doing his best to think of practical matters. “Your uncle is already making mischief and speaking of having our marriage annulled. Mr. Garrett is certain he won’t succeed,” he added when he saw her pale. “But he wanted us to know that we might better protect ourselves.”
“What does he suggest we do?” she asked, only the slight tremble in her voice gi
ving any hint as to her emotions.
“Nothing, unfortunately,” he admitted, hating that he should feel so impotent. “Expressing concern for your safety is no crime, and until he makes an overt move there’s little we can do to fight him.”
Caroline gave a bitter laugh. “Overt moves aren’t Uncle Charles’s way,” she said, passing the half-finished glass of wine from one hand to the other. “It’s more like him to have me kidnapped than to openly face a fight he may lose.”
“Which is why I was so furious to arrive home and find you gone,” Hugh said, sliding quickly through the door she had opened. He was pleased she had the wit to fear her uncle; now all that remained was seeing that she made use of that wit to keep herself well out of the bastard’s way.
To his surprise she had the grace to flush. “I am sorry,” she murmured, sounding genuinely penitent. “I have been left to my own devices for so long it didn’t occur to me you would worry. Since we had already decided to attend the soiree, I saw no reason why I should not proceed on my own.”
Hugh thought of all that might have happened, and sent her a cold look. “But now you can see there is a reason,” he said, determined she would not repeat her foolish mistake. “Until I decide otherwise you are not to leave the house without me, or without men of my choosing. Do you agree to this?”
Her lips thinned in obvious anger, but she met his gaze with a cool control he could not help but admire. “I agree,” she said calmly. “Although I do think you might have explained yourself, instead of snapping orders at me as if I was a green recruit,” she added, her chin coming up.
Even as Hugh acknowledged the truth of what she was saying, he was reaching out to cup her jaw in his hand.
“But it’s orders I’m used to giving, and receiving as well,” he said, brushing his thumb across her lips. “In battle it was my duty to keep my men alive, and they either obeyed me or they died. There was no time to explain myself, or for worrying about hard feelings. So don’t look to me for explanations or soft words, Caroline; I’ve none to give you. Only accept that what I tell you, I tell for your own good.”
His touch brought the sweet bloom of color to her cheeks, but her gaze was remarkably steady as it held his.
“Very well,” she said somberly. “I accept that, so long as you accept I may not always do as you say. I will try to be prudent, that much I can promise you, but I will not be blindly obedient. I cannot. It would be like living under my uncle’s thumb again, and that I will not do.
“I know ours is a marriage but for a short span of time,” she added, lifting her hand to touch his face as he was touching hers. “But so long as we are man and wife, I mean to treat you with as much honesty as I can. I have never been the meek and compliant sort, and I do not intend to be so now. If it’s a submissive wife you’re after, Hugh, I fear you have struck a very poor bargain.”
Honesty. The word was like a sword thrust to his soul. It was the one thing she seemed to value above all else, and it was the one thing he feared he could not give. How could he, he wondered, when he had yet to tell her the truth regarding Loch Haven? To distract himself, he reached out to give one of her long curls a playful tug.
“So you do know my given name,” he teased, his tone deliberately provocative. “I was beginning to think you would never call me anything but Mr. MacColme or sir.”
He caught a gleam of laughter in her blue eyes before she lowered them. “I would not have you think me forward,” she said, her tone as demure as the smile curving her lips.
The smile drew his attention to the fullness of her mouth, and the passion he’d been unable to fully conquer rose like a tide in his blood. He could feel the beating of his heart in his chest, and the wild pounding of it made the breath thicken in his throat. Just a kiss, he thought, and gently touched her chin. Just a taste of the sweetness of her, and then he’d let her go.
“Caroline,” he murmured, leaning closer until he could smell the intoxicating scent of her perfume. “Have you a kiss for your husband on our wedding day?”
He saw her eyes widen in surprise and not a little fear, and the sight had him silently cursing. He might desire her until he was half-blind with it, but he would sooner die than force himself upon her. His pride would not tolerate a bride who endured his caresses instead of welcoming them. Digging deep, he found the control to limit himself to the single chaste kiss he brushed over her lips.
“There,” he murmured, drawing back to give her a reassuring smile. “That wasn’t too painful, was it?”
She looked dazed, then thoughtful. No,” she agreed, her voice sounding slightly breathless. “It wasn’t.”
Not certain if he was amused or insulted by such faint praise, Hugh moved away from her with a wry chuckle. “Good,” he said, settling back in his chair. “Now let us eat, and then we can discuss what is to be done about your uncle. I would be interested in hearing your thoughts on the matter.”
Chapter 7
The rest of the bridal dinner passed quite pleasantly, and Caroline was stunned to discover a new side to her husband she would never dream existed. She was so accustomed to his hard, rough edges, it hadn’t occurred to her he could he charming as well. But he was, surprisingly so. He was also well-educated, articulate, and possessed of a sly humor that had her chuckling more than once. It was odd to learn that the man she viewed as pure warrior should be so much more. Odd, and more than a little disconcerting.
After the luscious meal was over they rose to their feet, and Caroline experienced a sudden unease when he reached out to take her by the hand.
“You are looking tired, mo céile,” he said, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “Why not retire to your rooms? It has been a long day for us both.”
A warm tide of color washed over Caroline’s cheeks at his words. She was neither wholly innocent nor a fool, and she knew well what intimacies a marriage, even one of convenience, could entail. Theirs might be a temporary arrangement, but it was plain Hugh desired her in the way a man desired a woman.
“Yes, it has,” she replied, hiding her trepidation behind a cool smile. “Good night to you, sir.”
His green eyes danced with sudden amusement, and he carried her hand to his lips for a quick kiss. “Good night, madam,” he intoned, mocking her formal words. “Mind you rest well.”
Blushing, and furious with both him and herself, Caroline snatched her hand free and hurried from the room. There was no respite once she reached the sanctuary of her bedchamber, for waiting for her there was a trio of giggling maids eager to help her don her wedding-night finery. She endured their cossetting and shyly teasing remarks in silence, too embarrassed to act the haughty lady. Finally they took their leave, smirking and winking as they shut the door behind them.
The moment she knew herself to be alone, she leaped to her feet to begin nervously pacing. From the other side of the door connecting her room to Hugh’s she could hear the deep rumble of his voice, and realized he’d followed her to bed. Would he come to claim his rights and privileges as a husband? she wondered, casting the door an uneasy look. And if he did, how would she respond?
Hugh was a most handsome man, and if she were to be honest with herself, there was something in his blunt, abrasive nature she could not help but admire. Perhaps it was because he was so very much his own master, she decided, moving to stand before the mirror. Other men, even those with wealth and title, might play at being the lord of their domain, but with Hugh there was no pretense. He might have married her because of some pressure brought to bear by her grandfather, but he had also done so for reasons of his own.
More time passed, and as it did her agitation increased. Perhaps he wasn’t coming after all, she mused, chewing on her lip. The faint light flickering beneath his door winked out, and she could only assume he had retired for the night. A feeling of profound relief warred with a touch of feminine pique as she accepted he would be claiming no rights this night.
She knew she should be grateful for his c
onsideration of her maidenly sensibilities, and so she was—or at least part of her was grateful. The other part wasn’t certain how she felt, and the admission had her turning toward the door with an impatient mutter. Her fingers were fumbling with the ribbons fastening her white silk gown when the door behind her opened, and Hugh stepped into the room.
“Caroline? Is something amiss?” he asked, closing the door and moving toward her. “I thought you would be abed by now.”
“I …” Her voice trailed off, the words turning to ashes in her mouth as her mind went abruptly blank. She cleared her throat and tried again. “I was just getting ready to do that.”
“I feared you might be worrying about your uncle,” he said, continuing toward her with that same inexorable stride. “Are you?”
“Uncle?” Caroline blinked in confusion before remembering. “No,” she said, giving a forced laugh. “Although I suppose I should. Heaven only knows what new mischief he may be plotting.”
“I have been worrying,” Hugh replied, his eyes blazing in the soft lights of the candle as he came to a halt before her. “Your grandfather warned me the earl is as clever as he is dangerous, and I’ve no intention of being taken unawares. I shall sleep with you this night.”
The frank declaration of his intentions had the blood draining from Caroline’s cheeks. “I beg your pardon?”
“If your uncle is half so quick as we fear, we can only assume he has already bribed a servant to spy upon us,” he continued, peeling off his dark-colored robe with apparent unconcern. “And it is imperative he be led to believe I have made you my wife. It is the only way to ensure you are truly safe.”
Caroline stared at the broad shoulders straining against the white cambric of his nightshirt, her heart pounding so hard she wondered it didn’t burst from her chest. “I see,” she said, trying to force her frozen mind to think. She thought he would prevaricate, or wrap his purpose in soft words and pretty phrases, but it seemed she had misjudged him.
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