To Take This Lord (The Brides of Bath Book 4)

by Cheryl Bolen

  Even though she was much fatigued, Sally left Glee and Blanks at the tea room, and she went to see the children. Just thinking of them becoming her own brought sweet fulfillment.

  She entered their house and marched up the narrow stairway to the top-floor nursery. It wasn't until this very moment that she considered she would actually be mistress of this house by next week. But being the Viscountess Sedgewick was not what was important to her. The children were. And their father.

  When she opened the nursery door, Georgette came running to her. "Mama!" she called, her arms uplifted. Tears moistening her eyes, Sally gathered the child into her arms. "I'm so happy, darling, that you're to become my very own little girl."

  Georgette's arms tightly encircled Sally's neck. "I'm happy, too. Now I shall have a mama like the other girls—and like Joy."

  Sally stroked the little girl's thick mahogany-colored hair. Then she looked down at her own skirts and saw Sam standing there, his thumb shoved into his mouth. "I wonder if your brother knows what is about to happen?" Sally asked as she kissed Georgette's cheek, set her down, and drew Sam into her arms.

  "I told him," Georgette said. "I do wish he would talk."

  "He will," Sally assured. "You and I will teach him, beginning next week."

  "Which room will be yours?" Georgette asked. "I hope it's next to mine."

  Sally's stomach fluttered. Because town houses were a great deal smaller than country houses, the husband and wife generally shared a bedchamber at their town house. But, of course, George would not wish to share a chamber with her. "It doesn't matter where my room is, love. Nothing can ever take away the fact that we will be a family. I shall be your mother, and you shall be my beloved children." She nuzzled her mouth into Sam's golden curls, and he gave a hearty baby laugh.

  Then Sam pointed toward the rocking chair.

  "Say `chair,' Sam," Sally said sternly.

  He shook his head.

  The little imp! He knew very well every word she uttered. "Say `chair,' sweetheart," she repeated soothingly.

  He made the A sound, though the consonants weren't right.

  She kissed his chubby cheek. "Good boy!" She drew him into her breast and squeezed him tightly before she sat down in the rocking chair and began to play the piggy game with him.

  Chapter 9

  George was supposed to return on Monday. Because of that, Sally refused to leave Blankenship House all that day for fear of missing him. She thought perhaps he would come by the afternoon. But he did not. All through dinner, she looked for him, but he did not come then, either. She was heartily glad that Glee and Blanks did not wish to go to the Assembly Rooms that night, for she was far too worried to leave the house.

  She and Glee took their needlework to the drawing room, but with every stitch of her needle Sally's thoughts stayed on George. Was he all right? Had something happened to him? Had he drunk too much and been unable to travel? Or, heaven forbid, had he changed his mind about marrying her?

  By nine o'clock she began to worry she had done the wrong thing by not going to the Assembly Rooms. George must have gone there looking for them.

  Moments after she entertained that thought, she heard voices, then footsteps, in the marble hall. She whipped her gaze to the door and saw George come strolling into the Blankenship drawing room. He wore evening attire and gave no sign that he had been traveling for several hours.

  Sally's heart leapt as she gazed upon his manly countenance, upon that rugged face she loved so dearly. She wanted to run to him and throw her arms around him, but of course she could not do that. He would surely cry off then.

  He glanced first at her, then came and took her hand, brushing his lips across it. "You have been well, my dear?"

  "Oh yes," she replied. "And you? You must be greatly fatigued from the journey."

  He nodded greetings to his sister before sinking into the soft silk of the settee next to Sally. "Glad I am that you're not at the Assembly Rooms tonight."

  A timid smile brightened her face. Exactly why she had not desired to go there. "Pray, my lord, was your journey successful?"

  "Indeed it was. You were correct about your brother. He was delighted to bless our union. In fact, he and your mother will be here Thursday for the wedding."

  Thursday! It really was going to happen. Sally still could not believe George was going to marry her. She fully expected to awaken from the dream any minute. Though she was not close to either her brother or her mercenary parent—not as she was to her younger brother and her late papa—Sally was nevertheless pleased to learn they would attend the wedding. For some peculiar reason, their presence would make the ceremony more sacred. More binding. More irrevocable. A sense of well-being bubbled within her. "You have the special license?"

  He patted his pocket. "I do." He gazed upon her, his eyes running the length of the ivory gown she wore. "A new dress?"

  Sally swallowed. "Yes. Your sister has done me the goodness of indulging me at half the shops in Bath. The new Viscountess Sedgewick will be very well turned out indeed." It felt exceedingly odd to call herself by so lofty a name. It was especially strange since she still thought of the lovely Diana as Lady Sedgewick.

  He closed his hand over hers. "As it should be."

  * * *

  On Thursday morning they wed at Bath Cathedral. Despite the groom's high social standing, it was a small wedding attended only by family and a handful of close friends.

  When George stood on the precipice of the sanctuary and gazed at Sally walking down the nave toward him, he swallowed hard. For a fleeting second he had expected to see Diana in Sally's place. But it was only Sally. Sally, whose face was grim and whose steps were unsure. In her unadorned ivory silk gown, she looked more like a frightened child than a woman about to become a viscountess. Sally Spenser certainly was no great beauty, but she would make him a good wife. A pity she was not Diana. A dark cloud fell over him as he linked Sally's arm to his own. Such an utterly symbolic gesture. Their whole lives would henceforth forever be intertwined. Irrevocably joined together. His stomach dropped.

  As they stood with their hands clasped before the bishop, George once again smelled Sally's distinctive light fragrance. And it seemed as if huge shafts of sunlight began to fill the cathedral, dispelling the gloom he had experienced a moment before.

  Following the ceremony, a lavish wedding breakfast was held at Moreland's Winston Hall, where the enormous dining room was spread with meats of every sort and a vast array of pastries from Moreland's talented French chef. Moreland insisted George sit at the head of the table. Felicity insisted Sally sit at her new husband's side.

  It felt deuced awkward to be calling Sally Lady Sedgewick, yet he could never begrudge her the title. She was also assuming the loving care of the children who'd been deprived of their mother. He would have to quit thinking of Diana. She was dead. Two long years he had mourned her. He had even wished to follow her to the grave, but no longer. He must live now. For their children.

  Throughout breakfast he found his bride exceptionally quiet. He also noticed that she barely touched her food, though Miss—blast it all, he must learn to call his new wife by her Christian name! Sally. He had long been aware that Sally was not possessed of a large appetite. No wonder she was so skinny. He vowed to help fatten her up. "Come, my sweet, you must eat," he said gently.

  Her head bent toward his. "I fear doing so, my lord, for my stomach is not at all settled today."

  By Jove! She had the jitters! He'd never thought the singularly strong Sally Spenser could have anything weak about her, but she was possessed of a weak stomach. He chuckled and brought her hand to his lips. "Surely you will toast our union with champagne."

  She nodded. "It will be my pleasure."

  A moment later they lifted their glasses for the wedding toast. Then George rose from the table and offered Sally his arm. "Lady Sedgewick and I plan to share the day with our children," he announced. Then he nodded at Appleton. "Bring the twins around ab
out seven."

  "But surely, Sedgewick---" Appleton began to protest.

  George cut him off. "Just because I'm getting married doesn't mean I wish to become a recluse."

  "Are you sure?" Appleton asked, his puzzled glance darting from George to Sally.

  "I'm sure," George snapped.

  * * *

  At the town house George had been letting in Bath these past two years he escorted his bride from room to room, introducing her to the staff as they went. With her arm linked through her husband's, Sally glowed as she moved through her new home, George thoughtfully referring to her as "the new mistress" or "Lady Sedgewick."

  On the second floor, they came to his room. Her heart stampeded as he led her within its chamber. She looked around at the masculine trappings and deep jewel colors. "I've had a new linen press brought here for you," he said as if he were commenting on the weather.

  Sally was stunned. Hadn't George insisted there was to be no physical intimacy between them? Her probing eyes met his.

  He closed the door behind them, bent his head toward her and spoke softly. "I wish others—including the servants—to believe you are my wife in every way." Then he straightened up, walked to the window that looked out over the street, and he drew the red velvet draperies open. "Don't fear, Sally dear, I shan't be robbing you of your virginity."

  Her heart fell. But she did so wish for him to rob her of her virginity! She wished to become his wife in every way, but of course, that could never happen. Not when he would always be in love with a woman cold in her grave. And Sally knew she could never measure up to the woman she was attempting to replace. A deep flush crept up her face.

  The scarlet did not escape George's notice. He grabbed her by her shoulders and peered at her face. "By Jove! You're blushing! I did not think Sally Spenser—I beg your pardon, Sally Sedgewick—ever blushed. Surely my mentioning your virginity is not the source of your embarrassment?"

  No one had ever mentioned the word virginity before in front of Sally. Oddly, the description embarrassed her. She would far rather be a well-pleasured lady that a pure virgin. Well- pleasured by George, that is. "I've . . . It's just that I've never heard that word spoken before."

  He dropped his hands and chuckled. "But of course you've seen it in print and are acquainted with its meaning?"

  "Of course." How she wished the blasted color would leave her hot cheeks!

  "Do you object to the sleeping arrangements?"

  "You mean to sharing your bed, albeit in a most chaste manner?"

  "That is what I was referring to."

  "I have no objections. I, too, wish everyone to believe us truly married." The words sounded hollow. As would be their marriage. How could it be a marriage when that one, all-important component was missing? How could she hope to be a part of him when they did not share that most intimate bond? She felt bereft. She would never be truly married to the man she loved with all her heart.

  From the second floor, they made their way up to the nursery.

  Georgette flew to Sally. "Are you truly my mother now?"

  George answered. "She truly is." He stooped to pick up his daughter, and Sally bent to lift Sam. She glowed as George gathered the four of them together and spoke throatily. "A family at last."

  Georgette bent to her brother and spoke in a voice like that used with babies. She pointed to her father and said, "Papa." Then she pointed to Sally and said, "Mama."

  Sally watched the toddler for a reaction. Smiling, he clutched his arms around her and said, "Mama."

  A gush of tears rushed from her eyes as she gathered Sam closer and wept. All the while, a smile arched across her wet face. She tried to brush away the tears, but more kept coming. She looked up at George to assure him of her happiness and found that he, too, was crying.

  * * *

  At seven that night, Appleton and twins called for George. It was just as well, Sally decided. Every minute she spent with her groom would only result in making her wish this were a true wedding night. It was best he go off with his bachelor friends.

  "We're going to meet Blanks for cards," Melvin informed George.

  Poor Glee, Sally thought. Her husband had forsaken her, too.

  That Appleton and the twins had no obvious compunction over robbing her of her husband on her wedding night sent the scarlet to Sally's cheeks once again. They had no compunction because they assumed George had already taken his conjugal rights.

  Her thoughts flitted back to this afternoon as she had stood with George within their bedchamber. All of the servants were conspicuously absent from the entire second floor. It was as if they expected Lord and Lady Sedgewick to consummate their marriage in that very bed that very afternoon. She felt a deep and gnawing void.

  The gentlemen each drank a glass of Madeira and commented on the wedding before departing for a night of whatever it was fun-loving bachelors did.

  Only her husband was not a bachelor. Nor was Gregory Blankenship.

  * * *

  The men had barely left when Sally, sitting in the drawing room with her embroidery, heard the sound of a carriage coming to a stop in front of the townhouse. She peered from the window and watched as Glee, an emerald cloak covering her blazing hair, disembarked. Still another person who had no compunction about disturbing one of the freshly married Sedgewicks on their wedding night.

  A moment later Glee joined Sally in the drawing room. Tossing her cloak to the butler, she scurried into the room and dropped onto the settee, which matched the one on which Sally sat. "This reminds me terribly of my own wedding night."

  That her wedding night was so widely discussed was painful to Sally. "How could this possibly remind you of your wedding night?"

  "I'm going to tell you something I've never told anyone before. Not even Felicity," Glee said.

  Sally arched a brow.

  "I trapped Blanks into marrying me. He had wanted no part of being married and no part of me."

  Sally shook her head. "I don't believe you. One has only to be around you two to know how deeply you're in love."

  "We are. Now."

  "But I know you loved him when you married."

  "I did. He didn't."

  Sally threw down her sewing. "Surely you're jesting." That was it. Glee was telling Sally this to make her feel better on her fruitless wedding night. "Blanks is completely besotted over you."

  Glee's rosy lips lifted into a smile. "I believe you're right, pet, but it wasn't always so."

  Sally's back sank into the settee. "Pray, you must tell me the whole story."

  "As you know, I've always been madly in love with Blanks."

  Sally nodded. As have I with George.

  "And when I found out he would lose his fortune if he wasn't wed on the day he became five and twenty, I simply proposed marriage to him. I told him it wouldn't be a real marriage, but a marriage of convenience."

  Exactly as ours is. "Go on," Sally said, unable to remove her gaze from Glee.

  "He turned me down. Even though it meant losing his fortune, he hated the idea of marriage so thoroughly, he rejected my offer."

  "Then how--"

  "I forced him to compromise me."

  "Surely you didn't---"

  "Knowing George was coming to find Blanks and me, I pulled down the bodice of my dress so George would think Blanks had been taking his pleasure on my body, and my brother would force Blanks to offer marriage."

  "Glee! How positively wicked!"

  "Yes, it was rather, was it not?"

  "Did your plan work?"

  "Oh yes. Dear Blanks was too much the gentleman to tell George of my wickedness. I do believe Blanks actually hated me for a short while, but I knew what I did was for his own good."

  "How well you knew your husband—better than he knew himself."

  "As you know George," Glee said, shooting Sally a concerned glance. "I have finally come to realize something you've managed to hide from me for a great many years."

  "What is
that?" Sally asked.

  "Your love for my brother."

  Glee's comment was rather like having the wind knocked from her. Hadn't she carefully tried to conceal her feelings for George, especially after he married the flawless Diana?

  Glee continued. "I've only just now come to realize you've adored George since your first visit to Hornsby when you were . . . what? Thirteen years of age?"

  Sally hung her head nodded. "Ten, actually."

  "And for ten years there has never been anyone for you except George?"

  "I'm so wicked, I still loved him ever after he married Diana."

  Glee's face grew solemn. "You're not wicked. Quite the contrary. You love my brother and his children selflessly."

  Sally feigned a laugh. "Those who think I'm selfless have no idea how much pleasure I derive from Georgette and Sam."

  "My niece and nephew are indeed fortunate to have you—as is their father." Glee's voice softened. "I give you six months."

  Sally's brows hiked up. "Six months for what?"

  "To win George's heart, of course."

  "That has never been my expectation."

  "Then why did you marry him? I know you don't give a fig for rank."

  "We—George and I both—thought it would be good for the children -- and as the viscountess I can dismiss that old dragon of a nurse."

  Glee's eyes widened. "You married in order to dismiss a nurse?"

  "Oh, there were other reasons. I don't at all approve of how George is destroying himself, and I mean to be a thorn in his side."

  Glee laughed. "My dearest Sally, trust me when I tell you, you will come to mean much more than a thorn to my brother."

  Dare she allow herself to hope for more? It seemed unfathomable that George could ever love another woman. And even more unfathomable that she could ever be that woman.

  Chapter 10

  Sally was unable to stay awake until George got home. With her maid's help, she had spent rather a long time on her toilette before going to bed. She felt terribly awkward commanding her own lady's maid. Would she ever become accustomed to having a personal maid? George, dear man, had engaged the young lady only the day before their wedding. With Hettie's help, Sally had attempted to preserve her wedding-day curls. The young maid also helped remove the fine gown Sally had worn that night and assisted her into a thin ivory linen night shift Sally had never before worn.