Chapter X
The day of the wedding bode well as it was sunny, with not a cloud in the sky, and the air pleasantly cool. Janie, her mother, and the duchess of Castlemeade came together after Janie’s maid had dressed her in a beautiful pale pink gown with a short train. The sleeves, the bodice, and the train were covered in delicate Irish lace that had been dyed to match her gown, and pink slippers peeked out from under her skirt. Diamond jewelry loaned to her from her future mother-in-law winked at her ears, wrist, and throat, and the diamond pins in the mound of her beautiful, black curls completed the picture that had Lord Windmere stop breathing when he saw her at the church walking down the aisle towards him with a smile.
His heart swelled with pride as he reveled in the love he had for Janie. And when she reached his side, he tucked her hand around his elbow and laid his other hand on top of hers. He couldn’t resist snugging her up close to his side as the priest glared at him over his glasses and cleared his throat loudly. Matt ignored him.
The ceremony began, and if the words from the Book of Common Prayer weren’t lengthy enough, the priest had added his own comments also that included the husband cleaving only to his wife. If Lord Windmere had been listening closely, he might have taken umbrage at the priest’s words as the Duke of Castlemeade did. His Grace—well aware the priest had been a little disgruntled at Matt’s reputation prior to the ceremony—was more than a little indignant at the man. As it happened, the duke had a few private words with him—after the ceremony and the bride and groom had signed the register—and the priest refrained from attending the wedding breakfast. He wasn’t missed by any of the guests.
As Lord and lady Windmere exited the church, a large crowd of well-wishers greeted them with cheers and applause. There were even some of White’s members as well, offering congratulations and a few leers from several of the ones with very debauched reputations. The couple waved, then hurriedly entered the coach that would take them to the duke’s residence for the wedding breakfast.
“Lady Windmere, I have the loveliest bride in the land, and I don’t know how I’ll keep my hands off you before the festivities end.”
Janie tried to maintain a serious expression but failed as the corners of her mouth lifted just a little. “Lord Windmere, it is only for a little while.”
“I don’t want to wait.”
Matt’s breath hitched as she looked up at him through her long eyelashes and softly said, “But am I not worth waiting for?”
With those words, Matt nearly took her in his arms to kiss her senseless, heedless of all the onlookers on the sides of the road. But, he didn’t. He took her hand, closed his eyes, and kissed the back of her hand, then the inside of her wrist, after removing her glove. If he didn’t mind his manners—even at his own wedding—his mother would enjoy ringing a peal over his head more than once. However, he did take a liberty that nearly undid his new bride when he gently licked the inside of her wrist before releasing her hand. Janie gasped and promised requital later on.
He smiled and said quietly, “I look forward to it,” and had the pleasure of seeing her blush quite pink. They smiled at each other and the wish they could skip the wedding breakfast and avoid all the guests and go straight to their wedding night was left unsaid. Matt had taken no liberties at all with Janie before they were wed, but he would die if he wasn’t able to make her his wife soon. Learning that loving to this extent seemed so different from mere lust amazed him, and he couldn’t fathom why he hadn’t seen it before. He wanted to share with his wife what it meant to love and be loved, and he wanted to experience it fully with her. He surmised no other woman would ever catch his attention again. And he had no regrets.
In the meantime, the mothers of the bride and groom had outdone themselves with a wedding breakfast able to feed over 300 guests, and that was being held in the grand ballroom decorated as a formal garden with trees; potted roses, gardenias, and ivy; as well as a gazebo in one corner. Many guests were already seated as they had not gone to the church for the nuptials as only immediate family and a few close friends had attended the ceremony. When they arrived, the bridal couple, nevertheless, had seats at the table with their parents and siblings and made their way in that direction. Many congratulations and hugs delayed them sitting down, but finally they were able to do so, and the servants began serving.
Since it wasn’t unusual for the guests to keep looking at the family table and around the ballroom at the other attendees, nobody noticed the glances that one of the lords kept casting at the eldest unwed sibling of the Duke of Weirlane and who had given him more sleepless nights than any woman he had ever met. My God, an innocent. What’s the matter with me? If I even think about approaching her, her brother will call me out…and rightly so. I’m not worthy of her. And the most interesting development of this attraction was he had not been with a woman since meeting her. He had no interest in anyone else and fobbed off the widows and others who regularly pursued him. She had ruined him for any other woman. And his pursuit of her just might get him killed, but what a fantastic way to go. He was a victim of coup de foudre, but unaware she suffered from it too.
***
After the breakfast, servants quickly stripped the ballroom of the tables and some of the chairs so the dancing could commence. The Duke and Duchess of Castlemeade observed propriety, but only to an extent. In having a large wedding, an even bigger wedding breakfast, and dancing afterwards was beyond many weddings, even those of royalty. But the Fremonts and Thorntons delighted in having the best for their wedded offspring.
Lord and Lady Windmere led off the first dance which Matt had requested be a waltz. Although scandalous when first introduced in England, the dance was now universally accepted, and more than one couple appreciated the close proximity of their partners when floating around the room in the arms of a beautiful lady or a handsome gentleman. Janie and Matt were no exception. He just sighed, closed his eyes, and willed his rebellious body to be patient. Loving Janie was only a short time away. Not short enough! But they stayed for two more hours and really did enjoy the dancing and the camaraderie with the other dancers. And they tolerated the winks and slightly bawdy comments of the other three lords said under their breaths.
When they felt they had stayed long enough to appease family and guests, Matt and Janie took their leave and went to his townhouse where Janie’s trunks had been delivered. He apologized for the masculine feel and promised she could redecorate as she wished if she would allow him to keep his study and library as well as his own bedchamber as they were.
“All I wish, for the moment, is to be with you, my Greek god.” She whispered and then put her arms around his neck and pulled him close.
Her gesture undid Matt, and he scooped her up, took her to his bedchamber—smiling and thinking the whole way she saw Robbie and me—and shut the door. His servants had been ordered not to disturb them until they rang for them, and that didn’t occur until the next day.
***
Because of the crush of people in the ballroom during the dancing, the Duke of Weirlane missed the waltz his sister had with one of the lords. Gareth had taken one look at her beautiful eyes and fallen in, shaken to his core that he could feel this way about any woman. When he first met her and her family, he had fallen and fallen hard for an innocent. Never in his life had that happened. He enjoyed being with women as intimacy could be very enjoyable with the right partner, but he had never been with an innocent or a married woman. And now, the only woman in his thoughts day or night was Anna, and he despaired of ever convincing Crispin of his feelings for his sister. He would never be acceptable, and it hurt his heart. And he had never been in pain over a mere woman. But Anna wasn’t a mere woman. She was the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, and it would never happen.
Chapter XI
The duke and duchess had only been home a few days after Matt’s wedding and had reestablished their routines including their special time each day which had to be indoors
as it rained for three days straight. They stayed near the castle for two days to allow the ground to dry somewhat, then planned to ride the next day.
The weather that morning was perfect for a ride. It began with a sunrise so beautiful it took their breaths away with a sky streaked with yellow, orange, and pink across the few visible clouds. The air was a little cool but comfortable, and Catherine seemed to really be enjoying herself when suddenly a pheasant flew up nearly in her mount’s face, and the gelding started bucking, and she flew over his head and hit the ground.
“Caaaaaat!” Crispin raced over to where she lay, leaped off his horse and rushed to her side. She wasn’t moving, and for a moment he couldn’t detect that she was even breathing. Terrified, he gently began checking her for broken bones, but there appeared to be none. Still, she remained unconscious. Crispin yelled at the groom to go for the doctor and also have the coach sent back for them. As the groom urged his horse into a full gallop at the duke’s orders, Crispin turned back to his wife.
“Catherine, love, don’t die.” Crispin pleaded and began checking her again, this time to make sure she had no head injury. He did find her draped over a small rock which he maneuvered out from under her so she was flat on the ground. And then he waited until his coach appeared. Gently rolling his wife onto her back, he carefully picked her up and carried her into the vehicle. He then held her on his lap all the way back to the castle where he instructed the servants to go ahead of him and prepare her bedchamber as the doctor would be arriving soon.
Hearing all the commotion, his mother appeared and asked what happened as she followed him up the stairs.
“Her horse threw her when a pheasant nearly struck it.”
As he laid her on the bed, his mother gasped. “Crispin, there’s blood on your sleeve.”
“There couldn’t be. I checked her thoroughly for broken bones or any lacerations. There was nothing.”
As she laid her hand on his arm, she quietly asked, “Was she with child?”
Crispin turned white as he stammered out, “N-not that I’m aware off. She has said n-nothing about being enceinte.”
“Crispin, she is bleeding, and if she is with child, she may lose it, and we could lose her as well.”
“Oh, God, please no.” For the first time as an adult, he meant this as a plea; not a curse, but a prayer for Cat’s safety and the babe’s. “Where is the blasted doctor?” he growled in frustration.
A short while later, Dr. Jenson finally arrived and ran the duke and his mother out of the duchess’ bedchamber until he could determine the extent of her injuries. He gave no apologies for not coming immediately—as he had been helping with a birthing—until he could sit down with the duke and apprise him of his wife’s condition. Two hours later, he rolled down his sleeves, found the duke and the dowager and informed them he had done all he could.
“She lost the child. Nothing could be done to prevent that. But the bleeding has stopped, and I believe with time, the duchess will recover.”
“So, she was with child.” Crispin’s head hung down as he clasped his hands.
“Yes,” replied Jenson. “You did not know?”
“No…she’d never mentioned it. How…how far along?”
“About three months.”
Crispin cringed. That confirmed he had impregnated her at that damn house party. And his comeuppance for ruining her was to lose his child, their child. But would he lose her as well? He couldn’t lose her. No, no, for he now knew he loved her and wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. Yes, he loved the passionate nights with her like with no other woman he had ever been with, but he realized he had always loved her since they were younger. That was why he had been so very protective of her even with all the children in the area. He had just been extremely stupid in sowing his wild oats before settling down and accepting the responsibilities of his station. And now he was paying for it…possibly with Catherine’s life.
“Can you assure me she will be well?”
“No, Your Grace, I cannot. I’ll do the best I can, but…I would suggest a lot of prayer as well.”
Crispin just closed his eyes and nodded. His mother put her hand over his and gave it a gentle squeeze. They thanked the doctor. He made arrangements to check on his patient twice a day and to be available if any emergency arose, and then he left.
The dowager and the duke went to his wife’s bedchamber to see if she was awake, but she wasn’t. Crispin was despondent. Although prayer had never been a real part of his life, the duke kneeled at his wife’s bedside and prayed for her safety promising the Creator he would do his best by his family and all those who depended on him from this day forward. He asked only that his wife be spared.
Afterward, the dowager duchess comforted her son.
***
Crispin never left his wife’s side for three days except to change clothes and once to bathe, and for three days she remained unconscious.
Dr. Jenson couldn’t come up with a reason. “Perhaps, it’s the trauma of losing the child. I found no head injuries so she should come around, and soon.”
And on the third day, she opened her eyes.
The duke was immediately by her side holding her hand. “How do you feel, Cat?”
“I-I am very thirsty.” Crispin got her a glass, but after drinking just half of the water, she suddenly reared up on the pillow and screamed, “The babe, where is the babe?”
Crispin quickly took his wife in his arms as she was becoming hysterical. Taking her fists, she began pounding him on the chest, demanding the babe. He held her tight until she calmed and quietly said, “We were fortunate you survived, my love, but…I’m sorry, the little one…did not.”
Catherine collapsed with great gulping sobs and couldn’t seem to stop. The duke gathered her in his arms and held her in his lap until she cried herself out. Almost whispering, she said, “I never felt the quickening, but my courses stopped. And I knew I was with child. A child…I could love…and who would love me.” She closed her eyes and shuddered.
A chill enveloped Crispin as he remembered Matt’s warning.
Pulling her closer, he apologized. “Cat, you married a fool. I’m sorry it took nearly losing you for me to realize how important you are to me.” Pulling her upright, he took her face in both hands and looked into her eyes. “I love you, Catherine Copley. I have always loved you and have been too blind to see it or too stupid to admit it. But I love you more than life itself, Cat.” And he very gently kissed her tears away. They sat that way until his mother returned.
The dowager had been with Crispin when Catherine awakened, but with the young duchess’ hysteria, she had felt her son needed some privacy to comfort his wife. A short while later, she knocked softly on the door, peeked in, and asked if everything was all right, and her son told her to enter. Kneeling on the floor, she put her arms around Catherine and assured her that she and Crispin and the rest of the family would help in any way they could.
“Thank, you, ma mère. I just h-hurt because of losing my-my babe.”
“I know, my dear. Perhaps, we might look forward to another in the future. For now, you must get well. May I have some broth, toast, and tea brought for you?”
“I’m not sure I could keep it down. I hurt…all over.”
“Dr. Jenson is on his way. We’ll see what he says. It may just be soreness from the fall.”
“No, ma mère, it’s more,” she whispered. “It’s the loss of my baby.” And big tears slowly rolled down her cheeks.
The dowager duchess got up and brought her a handkerchief while her daughter-in-law apologized for being upset. “No apologies, Catherine. You’ve suffered a loss; we’ve suffered a sad loss. Your reaction is normal.”
As voices were heard in the hallway, they realized Dr. Jenson had arrived. The dowager met him at the door and quietly told him what had just happened. He proceeded to try to run her and her son out and told them he would speak with them in a few minutes, but the duke was having no
ne of that. “I shall stay with my wife.”
Jenson just nodded and assented to both of them remaining in the room. Examining Catherine, he noted she had horrible bruising all across her lower abdomen. “Have you had any further bleeding, Your Grace?”
“No, I don’t think so. Crispin?”
“No, the maid said there was no more blood on the sheets when she changed the linens.
“Good, very good. Your Grace, you are beginning to heal. I know it doesn’t seem like it, but you landed very hard on the ground, and your internal injuries will need several weeks to heal. In the meantime, no intimacy. You must allow your body to repair completely.”
“Will I…Will I be able to have another child?”
Jenson sighed, took his glasses off, rubbed his forehead and finally replied, “I honestly do not know. Only time will tell us if you are able to become with child again. I wish I could tell you more, but I am simply a physician, not a prophet.”
Catherine just nodded in acceptance but fearing the worst. She had wanted this child so badly, someone to love her. But…didn’t Crispin say he loved me? Yes, he did. Her heart gave a leap as she realized that two of her dreams had come true. Could she be happy in spite of her loss? Yes, she could, but a few tears still coursed down her cheeks.
Crispin noted them and inquired, “Are you all right, Cat?”
“Yes…yes, I’m all right, beloved. Just some happy tears to know you love me.”
Lord Weirlane Page 7
