“What I think at the moment, sir, is that I have the upper hand. I know certain things about you that I’m sure you do not want broadcasted publicly,”
“My name is Aiden. Not sir. We are about to be wed, so perhaps you can call me by my name.”
“Why bother? We’re simply playing at being married.”
“Are you so sure?”
The sudden revival of uncertainty caught her off guard and she prevaricated In control, Tess.
“Of course,” she finally answered, once more determined. “Our marriage will be in name only, Aiden. Once the vicar has said his piece, I will vanish from your life.”
“Why?”
She went to answer, but realized she wasn’t so sure what exactly it would be. “Because…because that is what has to happen. We don’t love each other, we barely know each other.”
“Marriages have been made on less.”
“But—”
“You want to be safe Tess, do you not? Safe from your uncle?”
Tess wrapped her arms across her middle, rubbing her palms up and down her arms against the deepening chill. She glanced briefly back to the library where Tulip chattered to an already inebriated Luther. “The man is a bully,” she said shifting her focus back to Aiden.
“So take the chance to get away.”
“I thought that is what we—I was doing.”
His brow rose, his smile wide, and her heart skipped a beat.
Focus on escape, Tess. Do not think of his kisses. Do not.
“Can I make a suggestion in regards to this marriage of ours?”
“Of course.” Bad idea.
His surprise was real. “Really? It does surprise me that you give permission so easily.”
“I do appreciate what you are doing.”
“You left me little choice.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Are you?”
She caught the humor in his voice. “No,” she said with a ripple of laughter. “You’re right. I’m not sorry. Oh, I am sorry it is you. You are a…nice man,” she said, knowing as she uttered the words that he was more than that. He was attractive and the sight of him tugged at something deep inside her, something she had never felt before. He excited her. “You are kind,” she said, steeling her reaction to him as best she could.
His mouth curled at the edges as he chuckled. “I’m not sure a husband-to-be would want his betrothed to think of him in terms of kind, or nice. They seem a tad tame for matrimony.”
“I could utter worse.”
“I’m sure you could—but we digress. You talk of kindness. I would guess that you have seen little of that these last few years.”
Her gaze lowered a fraction, only to refocus on him in an instant. She would not show weakness, or how humiliated she had been by Luther’s bullying. The man had broken her soul…nearly, but now she had taken ownership of it once more. She would not lose it again.
“It has not been easy,” she answered honestly.
“And you think marrying me is the answer?”
She lifted snow-tipped lashes and gazed up at him. “It is the only answer I have, Aiden. You are my only hope.” A tiny shiver goosed down her arms.
“You are cold.”
“It is snowing.”
“Aye, and we’re outside in it.” His mouth quirked ever so slightly and Tess couldn’t help but remember his kiss.
She swayed toward him, so close that the small amount of heat he radiated warmed her. A snowflake landed on her cheek and before she had the chance to brush it away, Aiden’s cupped hand caressed that very spot.
It was but a moment, but her heart stopped, the touch firing something in her belly. Then it was over and he drew away.
She wanted to stop him. Say, stay. She wanted to hold his hand there. Instead, she scrambled for something to say. Anything. “I’ve heard say we’re in for a harsh few months.”
“Could be. The snow is early.”
“Legend has it that when the autumn leaves wither on the boughs rather than falling, there’ll be much snow ahead.”
“A woman who knows her myths.”
“Education is not the prerogative of the men in our society. Besides, life has been easier with my books. I can lose myself in the adventure and mysteries,” she said with a sad shrug.
“Your chance to hide away.”
She lifted her gaze to his, searching for any hint of laughter on his part, only to observe sincerity in the blue depths of his eyes. “Why not? Knowledge is a great thing for everyone.”
Suddenly he shifted from her and began to unbutton his tailcoat.
“What are you doing?”
He shrugged it off. “Being a gentleman.”
“But you’ll freeze.”
“I’m tough, and,” he said with a shrug, “I’ve experienced worse.”
“Out on the roads.”
He stiffened and his smile faded, eyes darkening to the color of a stormy day. He draped the garment around her shoulders and drew her closer. It smelled of him, of the man she remembered from a few weeks ago.
“Soon we will be married, sweet Tess.”
Sweet? Did he think her so? Did she want him to?
His mouth found hers, surprising her, but delighting her at the same time, and she sighed into him in a single heartbeat. Hands pressed flat against his shirtfront, the rat-a-tat-tat of his heartbeat thrummed against her fingertips.
“Sweetest Tess.”
Her lips parted and his tongue slid along their rim, teasing them open farther, tangling with hers in a thrilling dance.
She should have been shocked. No decent lady would cavort this way—but she was no decent lady.
Her hands crept from his chest across his shoulders and around his neck, fingers threading through his hair.
He clutched her tighter, her breasts pressed against his chest, and beneath her gown her nipples hardened.
So shocking. So delicious. So—
“Stop!” Tess wrenched herself from him. “You have done it again,” she accused in a breathless rush.
His humor-filled eyes glittered. “Aye, it seems I have.”
His warmth melded from his jacket into her bones, reminding her from what she had just pulled away. Instinctively, she drew her arms tighter around herself, trying to stem the way her body reacted to him.
Impossible!
Her throat closed over, suddenly breathless. “You should not have done that,” she finally managed to whisper.
“We get married in a few days.”
“In name only,” she corrected swiftly.
“Easily remedied.”
Tess stalled him with her hand. “Stop right there. Do not sweet-talk me.”
“Is it working?”
Only too well.
“Not at all.” She tossed her chin up and hoped he’d read it as her disregard to his tempting words.
And don’t forget his kisses.
How could she? They’d already seared into her being, tangling with emotions she wasn’t sure how to control.
“You talk of finding a cottage. There’s no need.”
“Of course there is. That is the entire point of this farce. I cannot stay a moment longer with Tulip and Luther.”
“I agree. That’s why I’m proposing you come down with me to Charnley Hall.”
His offer caught her off guard.
“It’s the simplest solution.”
Tess eyed him as suspicion warred. “For whom?”
One edge of Aiden’s mouth hitched slightly. “Why you, of course.”
“Why are you being nice?”
“You mean why am I being nice, since you’ve blackmailed me?”
“Something you’re not going to let me forget.”
“Probably not,” he agreed with a slight smile. “So it is settled then?”
“I…I don’t know. Is this your home?”
“It is.”
“But I thought you were—”
“A man needs a p
lace to call home, despite his occupation, Tess.”
At her hesitation, he continued.
“’Tis on the Thames estuary. The village is quite small, the residents mostly fisherfolk, but there are beautiful walks along the river’s edge.”
Anything far away from Luther and his plan to use her as financial fodder was better than staying. At least this way she could build her own life. She’d leapt into blackmailing Aiden with only the need to get away foremost in her mind.
Charnley Hall sounded just the place to start her new life. A month. Two. Then she would find a way to leave.
“It sounds perfect.”
“It is,” Aiden agreed, “far away from your uncle.”
“As I said, perfect,” she answered with a smile of her own.
Aiden gathered her hands in his and despite the chilled air from the snowfall, his touch was warm and comforting. She had told him that he was a nice man, despite everything. Despite being a thief. And he was. But there was something else about him, something assuring. She would be safe.
But what about when he kisses you? Will you be safe then? Will your heart be safe?
Tess clamped down that thought. There would be no more kisses.
Chapter Seven
Love’s heart rings with truth
Lest Cupid’s arrow tears apart
Wed in haste, or repent at leisure.
Mirabelle’s Musings
December 1813
The time had come.
Tess tried unsuccessfully to ignore Tulip’s incessant chatter and the fussing and plucking of imaginary bits of fluff from her wedding gown.
Eyeing herself in the mirror, she acceded that she looked rather presentable. The soft rose velvet dress with a matching silk underskirt caught under the bust with a silver sash was exquisite.
“Madame Laurelei has done a wonderful job,” Tulip again flustered.
“She has, but really there was no need.”
“Of course there was. It’s your wedding day.”
“A formality at best.”
Lost as usual in her fantasy, Tulip ignored Tess’s honesty. “Your handsome beau is downstairs ready and waiting.”
Tulip’s announcement proffered a surge of relief. Awake most of the night, Tess had worried he might change his mind and not turn up.
That they had met again at the Bancroft ball only a week ago and now she was marrying him proved a constant shock.
Behind her, Millie tended her hair. “They’re both so handsome. Mr. Masters has his friend with him. He’s very handsome too.”
Tess stared at Millie’s reflection as the young maid readjusted a curl. “Have you set your sights on him, Millie? I thought you were keen on Arthur, the new groom?”
Millie giggled, blushing scarlet. “Oh no, Miss, not me.” She suddenly busied herself with realigning the brush set.
“Millie?”
“It is no use, Miss,” she said, wringing her hands. “He only notices the horses.”
Tess turned from her reflection and captured the young maid’s hands. “Sometimes, Millie, I think men are simply dunces.” Walking to her wardrobe, she yanked open the door and withdrew a flower-sprigged bonnet. She held it out to Millie. “Here, take this, I’m sure when you wear it, young Arthur won’t be able to take his eyes off you.”
Millie’s delight shone and she took the bonnet with shaking hands. “Oh, Miss Tess, thank you. Thank you.”
Tess offered her a smile. “It’s me who should be thanking you. You’ve done a lovely job with my hair and…well, everything,” she said, aware of the resurgence of tears she’d struggled to keep at bay.
Millie rushed forward and hugged her, and then, with her new bonnet clutched to her chest, she scurried out of the room.
“Are you ready?” Tulip spoke for the first time for what seemed at least a minute, something Tess wished could have been decidedly longer.
It was time to leave. Time to get married.
She stroked a hand across her throat. Was the noose of marriage about to be tightened around her throat? Reaching for the small bouquet of sweet smelling herbs with several tiny bud roses entwined, Tess turned toward the door. But she was thwarted as her aunt restrained her with a gentle hand on her forearm.
“A minute, dear niece.”
Noting the sudden conspiratorial tone, Tess shot her a startled glance. “There are some…some womanly things I must discuss with you before you—”
Comprehension dawned instantly. “Oh, Aunt, do not worry.”
“You know already what goes on between—”
“A husband and wife. Yes, I have read of such matters.”
Her aunt’s eyes widened, mouth clicking. “You read too much, Tess, and that shocking column Mirabelle’s Musings! Such goings on! I just don’t understand you young people. Why do you want to read such scandal?” she said shaking her head. “But…men,” she stuttered. “They have certain urges, you understand. Certain needs. Mr. Masters seems to be a gentleman and I’m sure will be…gentle.” Tulip’s cheeks turned scarlet and she drew back. “Now we must not delay any further.”
Tulip didn’t give her a chance to reply as she bustled out of the bedchamber, expecting Tess to follow. But she couldn’t.
Was she doing the right thing by marrying a stranger? A criminal, for goodness’ sake?
Her fingertips found their way to her lips, tracing their outline. Remembering his kisses, heat traveled the length of her, warming her from the inside out. There were feelings—emotions she had not experienced before, all tangled up with his kisses. Tess only wished she understood these unfamiliar emotions fighting for supremacy in her body. There was definitely an attraction between her and Aiden. She liked his kisses, but she had already decided that they were no longer allowed.
She would be staunch. She would not allow herself such luxury again. Besides, she wouldn’t be staying long, so best not to be tempted.
“Tess.”
Tulip’s anxious call snapped Tess out of her quandary. Marry, or stay with Tulip and Luther?
She had no choice. Not if she wanted to live her own life, her way.
Pushing her shoulders back, she tilted her chin up just a fraction higher. “Time to get married, Tess Stanhope,” she whispered as she exited her bedroom and came to stand with Tulip at the top of the stairs.
“One more thing, my dear.” Tulip leaned a bit closer to her, the tang of the peppermint leaves she often chewed fresh on her breath. “We know very little about your Mr. Masters. If he…hurts you in any way, or you cannot stand…what he does to you in the bedchamber,” she said blushing, “you can come home.”
“Back here?”
“Yes. You can leave if he hurts you.”
The reality of what her aunt said bloomed. “But Aunt, what about you? Why haven’t you left?”
“Me?” Confusion washed across her aunt’s face. “Oh, my dear,” she said with a brittle laugh. “Your uncle loves me.”
“But he hits you.”
“Only when he’s under great strain,” she said, waving a hand in the air as if to dismiss their conversation. “Now, I’ve said what I needed to say. It’s time for you to go to your husband. Your parents would be so proud.”
Her parents.
Their marriage had been special. A true love story, but they were gone and could not help her.
Living with Tulip and Luther, hearing his constant belittling of her aunt, Tess had begun to wonder if her parents’ marriage had even been real. What if she had simply imagined such harmony because of her grief?
Blinking away the sudden onset of tears, she wished again that they could have been here, especially today.
“I know you miss them, my dear.” Tulip leaned over and gave her a peck on the cheek. “But now you will have that handsome man downstairs to look after you.”
“Oh, no, Aunt,” she said, suddenly imbued with strength and courage.
Stand tall, proud and determined, Tess.
“I will look
after myself.”
Tulip tut-tutted and took a step down the grand staircase, leaving Tess with no option but to follow and walk into the bowels of the unknown.
The moment she entered the morning room, her gaze set on Aiden. Her throat closed over.
Dressed in a navy tailcoat and crisp white shirt beneath his brocade waistcoat, black trousers molded his thighs. The man was so handsome, so powerful—and soon to be her husband.
His hair had been trimmed, which caused a surprising flutter of disappointment. She remembered the feel of it sliding across her fingertips. Remembered delighting in it.
…
At her footstep, Aiden discontinued talking to the man at his side and turned to her, his darkened gaze holding her captive. She tightened her grip on her bouquet. It was time to get married. She took one step into the room, then another, drawn by the intensity of his gaze.
“You came,” she whispered as she came alongside him.
He leaned toward her, his warm breath teasing her skin. “You thought perhaps I wouldn’t?”
He’d read her mind.
“Tut, tut, sweet Tess. Trust is such an important aspect of marriage, is it not?” He offered her a wink and her cheeks burned.
A subtle cough from the vicar standing in front of them interrupted any opportunity for her to respond and she tore her gaze from Aiden’s.
The next few minutes passed in a daze of words, until it was Aiden’s turn to recite his vows.
“Please repeat…I, Aiden Masters, Earl of Charnley.”
An earl?
Eyes wide, Tess rounded on him. “You are a peer,” she accused.
Humor glittered in his piercingly blue eyes. “I am.”
“What were you doing at the Bancroft’s dance? That isn’t the sort of thing I would expect an earl to attend. Or is it that you only steal from those not of your station?”
“I attended incognito with a friend.”
“And did you not think that you being a peer is something I should know prior to our wedding?”
“Remiss of you for not informing your betrothed, Charnley?” the man at his side chuckled.
Aiden shrugged his shoulders. “All in good time.”
“And when would that time have been, my lord?”
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