His lips curved into a nonchalant smile. “Who knows? Let’s just say it is a point of interest I decided to hold back.”
“My Lord,” the vicar again interrupted. “I need your answer. Do you take Miss Tess Stanhope as your wife?”
Aiden winked at her again, and Tess gritted her teeth. “I do,” he said.
Still, fury bubbled deep. “You, you had no right.”
“Of course I did. Think of it as tit for tat. You know one secret about me, and I decided to keep a tiny secret from you.”
“Tiny! You’re a peer of the realm.”
“I am.”
“But you’re also a high…”
“Hush.” Aiden claimed her mouth, silencing her in an instant. His lips were warm, gentle at first, and then he took her with a passion reminiscent of their first kiss.
In the background, she vaguely heard a titter of laughter from Tulip accompanied by a snort of disgust from Luther.
Wrapped in Aiden’s arms, he cupped the base of her skull with one hand, the other resting in the small of her back. His fingers were splayed, the pressure exquisite.
Her breathing stilled. Breathing? So unnecessary.
Feelings—so many—so exciting, strange, and dangerous, charged through her body, directly to her heart. She had wondered if it had been a figment of her imagination—this wonderful tension that blossomed when he kissed her.
Imagination had nothing on this. This kiss proved how real it was.
But with a breathless sigh she at last pushed away. This was so wrong. She needed to forget such feelings, for they could not be part of this marriage. She had to remember she was marrying a rogue and that she wasn’t going to be staying.
Surely it would be easier once they reached his home. He would be undertaking his next robbery and she had simply to bide her time for the right moment to leave.
A few minutes later and the marriage ceremony was over.
“Congratulations, you are now husband and wife.”
Aiden leaned toward her, whispering, “See, that was easy.”
“Yes, my lord, whatever you say, my lord.”
He shot her a teasing smile. “It wasn’t that bad, was it?”
“That depends on what you’re talking about. But then, this is all for show, and this show, my lord,” she stated baldly, “is just about over.”
His response was a rumble of deep throaty laughter, a husky tone that threatened to seep beneath her defenses.
Tess clamped her teeth together, holding herself rigid. She must resist temptation.
“Congratulations.” Aiden’s friend came alongside them. “Let me introduce myself, since your husband has been a tad remiss in that department. Carson Humphries, the Earl of Beswick,” he said with a short bow. He took her hand and kissed it.
“That’s my wife you’re kissing, Beswick.” Aiden slapped a hand on his friend’s shoulder. His tone held a distinct cut to it though his expression remained humorous. “I think kissing my wife is my prerogative, hmm.” He took her hand from Lord Beswick’s and linked his fingers with hers. “Some cake, my sweet wife? Marriage makes a man hungry.” He drew her toward the table bulging with food.
Tulip had arranged the wedding breakfast, though it was really a light afternoon tea. There was far too much, though one look at her uncle already hunkered down in the corner, port in one hand, an overloaded plate in the other, and Tess was quite sure Luther would manage to eat a good portion of it.
“I’d rather starve.”
As he reached for a slice of the vanilla cake, Aiden’s brows shot up. “Is this a moment when ‘be careful what you wish for’ could be appropriate, sweet wife?”
A scalding heat stole across her cheeks. She gritted her teeth. “Stop calling me that.”
“Wife, or…yes, perhaps you are right. Sweet would not be a word to address you with at this moment, considering your mood.”
“And…and please do not kiss me again,” she said, fueling her determination. She tilted her chin up, defiance cresting. “You are simply the man I married.”
“While you are my wife, who responds to my kisses.”
“I do not.”
“Really?” The light in his eyes sparkled. “Shall I test your denial to prove my point?”
“No. No.” Tess snatched up a plate and a few tiny cakes. “Suddenly I’m hungry.” She turned to Carson Humphries. “These look rather delicious, don’t you think?” And she grabbed the first thing in front of her and stuffed the tiny cake into her mouth.
“I would say it is your husband you should ask, for it seems if I offer any opinion I risk losing my head.”
Tess shot Aiden a glare, only to receive a smile in return, and the tiny butterflies that had taken up residence in her chest fluttered.
“Did you know that food is a very sensual thing, Tess?”
The vanilla cake caught in her throat.
“In some cultures they use food during the art of making love. Chocolate, they say, is an aphrodisiac.”
Tess swallowed, and turned away from the mug of hot chocolate she’d been about to reach for.
“Do you like oysters, Tess?”
She spied the bowl of oysters in their shell. Her uncle had already eaten at least half a dozen, the shells tossed to the floor at his feet.
“They, too, are said to increase potency.”
Tess choked, unable to catch her breath as a cake crumb lodged in her throat. Aiden pulled her to him and patted her on the back, though all she could feel was the hard length of his body against hers.
Tears stung her eyes, but slowly her breath came back. Aiden, however, did not release her and she simply stood in his embrace, resting her head against his shoulder.
Seconds passed, his fingers caressing the nape of her neck, twining in her hair.
She swallowed back the desire to remain exactly where she was. “I…I am all right now, you can let me go.”
“I might not want to.” But suddenly he thrust her from him. “You are a temptation, Tess, but temptation isn’t allowed.” And with that cryptic remark, her husband of barely an hour spun on his heels and strode to the other end of the room, reaching for a brandy and downing it in one long gulp.
He took up a heated conversation with Lord Beswick, and kept well away from her, which suited Tess perfectly. The man was far too overbearing for his own good.
And don’t forget handsome.
Unable to stomach the thought of drinking the hot chocolate, or heaven forbid Aiden watching her do it, she chose the cherry wine. It was rather palatable and she drank several more over the next while.
“It’s time.”
Tess glanced up, her body swaying and her world tilting precariously. Heat seemed to radiate from inside out and she fanned herself with her hand. A tiny hiccup escaped her lips. “For what?”
Amusement etched into Aiden’s expression. “Have you imbibed too much, Tess?”
She squinted, peering at him as if he were far away. “Only a little bit,” she said, swaying. Another hiccup burst from her lips. “Oops, I think I might have had a tad more than a little.”
Aiden pressed his lips together, but still smiled. “So it would seem. The show has to continue, Tess. We need to leave.”
“For Charnley Hall.”
“No, not tonight. It’s too late and travel on the roads in the dark is dangerous. There are highwaymen about.”
She shot him a look, and again captured the teasing glint in his eyes. This time, however, it was all blurry. She narrowed her gaze, leaning forward and peering at him. “Do you realize, husband, that your eyes change color?”
The corners of his eyes crinkled. “That is something I’ve not been told before.”
“Oh, but they do.” She raised a hand and trailed her forefinger along the corner of his left eye and then down his cheek. “When you’re angry they’re dark and foreboding, almost the color of the night, but now, when you’re…” Tess hiccupped and drew back.
“When
I’m what?”
“No,” she said, shaking her head, which was a mistake as it hurt most sorely. “’Tis merely foolish musings on my part.”
“Or perhaps too much cherry wine.”
“You were saying?”
“Everyone will expect us to honeymoon at my home in Cadogan Square.”
“But we aren’t really going to stay married.”
He silenced her with a finger to her lips. “Shush. That’s our secret, one we both keep,” he said, and suddenly Tess noticed his eyes had darkened once more.
Was he angry with her?
He had a right to be. She had coerced him into this sham. Blackmailed him.
She stamped down her guilt.
There was no other option.
“So you’re leaving for your honeymoon.” Lord Beswick stood in the grand foyer.
Wiping away her tears, Aunt Tulip stood next to him. “Oh, it’s so romantic,” she cried into her kerchief.
Tess offered her a quick kiss. “Everything will be fine, Aunt.” She turned to Aiden’s friend. “Thank you for coming.”
He took her hand in his. “Wouldn’t have missed it for the world, my dear Lady Charnley.”
With quick good-byes as the sun began its descent over London, they left everyone and rode in Aiden’s carriage to his home in Cadogan Square.
Head throbbing, Tess massaged her temple. “I’m sorry about before,” she said as the carriage traversed the cobbled roads. “And thank you for keeping the speed down.”
His posture rigid, the only movement that of a booted foot tapping a relentless beat on the carriage floor, Aiden said, “I’m not particularly keen to have my carriage the recipient of your excess cherry wine. Have you sobered up?”
Swallowing back her embarrassment, she offered him a half smile. “Please remind me to never drink again.” The clip-clop of the horse hooves pounded in her brain. “And though you have a fine set of horses, they are a tad noisy.”
Aiden’s mouth softened. “Horses have become an occupational hazard of mine.”
“For a fast getaway, I presume.”
“Of course.” But he looked away from her and Tess had the distinct impression he had intended to say something else.
About to ask him what, their driver suddenly reined in the horses as they rounded the corner into Cadogan Square. Aiden drew back the shutter and peered out. Opposite them was another carriage, its window covering also drawn back.
“What’s going on?”
“My darling Lord Charnley, it appears I’m too late for an assignation.”
Tess leaned forward to get a better look at the speaker. A supremely attractive woman, hair curled around her face, her décolleté shockingly uncovered, waved a bejeweled hand at them. Then she spied Tess and her mouth soured.
“Your wife, I presume.”
“Yes.” Aiden’s tone was clipped.
The woman didn’t offer any congratulations. In fact she looked entirely displeased.
“We’re heading home. Good day, Charlotte.”
“For your honeymoon, no doubt.” Mouth overly glossed, she shot Tess a look that would have, if the woman had a dagger, pierced her heart at forty paces. “Enjoy yourselves, but then I know you will, Aiden darling, because we always did.” Her brittle laughter was silenced as she slammed her window closed.
Aiden tapped his walking cane to the roof of their carriage and their driver prompted the horses forward.
“Baroness Charlotte Harringford, I gather.”
He cast her a glance. “Correct. The baroness is an old friend.”
“Your mistress?”
“No longer.”
For an unknown reason Tess exhaled a relieved sigh.
“Are you worried I would venture into the bed of another, sweet Tess?”
Suddenly uncomfortable, she tangled her fingers in her fur muff, not wanting Aiden to witness her nerves. “I care not whether you visit your mistress. As long as you are discreet.”
Even as she uttered the words, she knew she lied. The thought of Aiden in the arms of another woman fired a round of emotions she had no idea how to disseminate or understand. What was her world coming to?
“Jealous?”
Her jaw slackened, words lost for several heartbeats. “That is quite ridiculous.”
“Is it?”
“Of course.” Her hold on her muff tightened. “I simply do not want my name paraded about as the cuckolded wife.”
“You like my kisses.”
“That has nothing to do with it.”
“Oh, I beg to differ,” he said, leaning across and drawing a finger down her cheek. He tugged the silk ribbon that tied her bonnet and it fell back. His mouth curved into a broad smile. He reminded her of a lion approaching its prey.
“It has everything to do with it, sweet Tess, because if we are in a marriage of convenience, it does not give you the right to be jealous where the Baroness, or any other woman, is concerned.”
A shocking pain twisted viciously in her heart. “So you will visit her?”
His smile faded. “No, Tess, I give you my word that while it lasts, I will not fornicate outside our marriage.”
Chapter Eight
A new home, a new life, a new husband
For a man who secrets his life, what of the wife?
Mirabelle’s Musings
December 1813
The horses stilled outside Aiden’s home. Not waiting for his driver, he shoved open the carriage door and climbed out. He turned to face her and held out a hand. “Your new home, albeit for tonight, Lady Charnley,” he said with a stiff bow.
Not for the first time did Tess wonder if she had turned completely mad. Blackmailing a rogue, a man who was actually a powerful peer.
“Tess.”
Aiden’s gentle tone countered her musings and she gathered her skirts to exit the carriage, only to stall as she stood on the step.
The setting sun partially shadowed the grand façade and cast a soft glow over the brickwork, turning it a whispery shade of pink.
Standard rose bushes lined the short pathway and though the winter had stemmed their bloom, Tess could imagine the intense fragrance they would emit come summer.
“It is beautiful.”
“It’s home. Sometimes,” Aiden countered.
“When you’re not doing your other business.”
“Aye.” In one swift movement, he lifted Tess from the carriage step and into his arms.
“Stop! What are you doing?”
“Following tradition,” he said, and took the steps to the front entrance with long strides. “There’s a superstition that says if you trip over the threshold, it brings bad luck to a marriage.”
“Oh, don’t be silly. Superstition is purely mumbo jumbo. Besides this marriage is—”
“Are you willing to risk it?”
“I will not trip. You can put me down.”
“Given the amount of cherry wine you’ve supped, there’s a strong possibility you’ll fall flat on your face. Or do you fancy inviting bad luck? And besides,” he said with a wink, “having you in my arms is rather nice, as long as you’re quiet!”
“Quiet!” Her shriek echoed around the entire square.
Aiden rolled his eyes and stepped over the threshold. “I thought it would prove impossible.”
Her jaw slackened. Aiden still held her close, the tattoo of his heartbeat thundering against her.
The door closed behind them and suddenly he loosened his hold and she slid down his length, aware of every inch of him.
“Welcome home, m’lord.”
“Thank you, Morley. Tess, this is—”
“We’ve already met,” the butler intervened.
It took Aiden a split second to comprehend, then his brows rose and he rubbed a hand along his strong jaw. “Ah, yes,” he said with a knowing nod, “that little episode. However, now the circumstances have changed a fraction.”
Morley’s eyes narrowed, concern etched into his co
untenance.
“Allow me to introduce you to my wife, the Countess of Charnley.”
Shock blatantly obvious, though like a seasoned employee used to the vagaries of the upper class, Morley recovered quickly. “Delighted, m’lady.” He offered a sharp bow toward Tess, but his delight did not quite reach his eyes. They remained wary. “I’ll get the staff to prepare things straightaway.”
“Please,” Tess said, “do not go to any trouble. I understand we’re heading to Charnley Hall in the morning.”
The butler shot Aiden a questioning look.
“My wife is correct. I have matters to attend nearby.”
“Very well, m’lord.” Morley offered a curt nod and then headed back through a door down the corridor.
“Does he know about your nighttime activities?”
“He does. However, it seems to me you’ve a morbid interest in those activities.” His lowered tone held a distinct starkness.
“Not at all.” She stepped away from him. The truth was that though the thought of stealing from people was horrifying, the thrill of taking charge of her life had been worth it.
“I do believe you’ve a craving for adventure, wife, but I’m sorry to say it’ll be a quiet life in Charnley.” He stepped back, holding out his arm toward the wide, sweeping staircase. “After you, sweet Tess.”
Suddenly nervous, though determined she would not offer a hint of it to her new husband, she tipped her chin a fraction higher and walked up the staircase. At the first floor hallway, Aiden stepped in front of her and opened a door.
“Our room.”
Shock jabbed pinpricks into her skin. She cast a quick glance into the room. A four-poster bed with a canopy of tapestry drapes dominated the space—and her focus. “That is utterly impossible.”
“Imperative,” he countered. He stepped into the room, turned, and waited for her to enter.
“I’m not coming in there. It is your bedchamber.”
“True.”
She looked to either side of her. There were four doors to the right of her and an equal number across the other side of the stair landing. “Those doors lead to other chambers.”
“They do.”
The intensity of Aiden’s stare seeped beneath her skin, warming the same places as when he’d kissed her. Her nipples hardened. Embarrassed, she pulled her cape closer around her and disconnected her gaze from his intuitive one.
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