The Baron's Wife

by Maggi Andersen

  He seemed very much at home with women’s clothes. But as a married man of course he would be. Her mind reeled. Had he sought feminine company since…? She knew of the high-class brothels in London where men of his ilk visited beautiful women practiced in the art of lovemaking. Eavesdropping on her father’s conversations had proved fruitful, but now she wished she hadn’t. Would Nathaniel like her body?

  “Turn around, sweetheart.” His fingers burned their way down her back as he unlaced her corset. The new pink lace affair fell away, and she pulled her camisole over her head. Shy about her naked breasts, she bent to untie her satin garters, then sat hunched over to remove her stockings. In her haste, she snagged the silk as she rolled a stocking down her leg.

  “Bother,” she muttered.

  “Allow me.”

  She leaned a hand on his shoulder as he knelt, his fingers warm against her thigh. She couldn’t resist threading her fingers through his dark hair, shot through with amber lights. It was silky to the touch. With a smile, he handed her the other stocking, then went to the bureau to remove his cufflinks.

  Intent on climbing under the covers as quickly as possible, Laura pulled off her lace-trimmed bloomers and scampered into bed.

  Nathaniel turned as he slipped his braces off his shoulders. A smile warmed his eyes. “In bed already? Don’t you wish to use the bathroom?”

  “I’m all right for the moment,” she said in a tight voice.

  He sat on the bed, as if to reassure her. “You’re a lovely woman, Laura. Really quite beautiful.” He dropped a quick kiss on her lips, his rough chin rasping against her cheek. Then he drew away, running his hand over his jaw. “I need to shave.” He disappeared into the bathroom.

  Every nerve in her body alert, Laura lay back on the pillows. She would not sleep a wink tonight.

  When he returned some minutes later smelling of soap, she smiled at him, having settled with the covers drawn up to her neck.

  “Don’t hide yourself from me,” he said. “I enjoy looking at you.”

  She liked looking at him. He had a broad chest with a mat of dark hair tapering to his waist. He was beautifully proportioned and had obviously lived an active life. Well-defined muscles rippled with each movement beneath smooth olive skin. New brides might swoon at moments like this and reach for their smelling salts. Laura had no such intention. She had never seen a man without his clothes.

  After Nathaniel’s trousers joined the rest of his clothes, she tucked her hands between her legs, discovering the heat and need there. He walked over to the bed completely unaffected by his nakedness. Were men always thus?

  She’d grown rather hot and swallowed. “I might have a bath.”

  His eyebrows rose, and a wry smile lifted his lips. “Very well.”

  She grasped her nightgown to fling it over her head. “I, um…won’t be long.”

  He tugged the garment out of her hands as the blankets fell away. Laura lay exposed to his gaze, fighting the urge to cover herself. “What a lucky fellow I am to have such a beautiful wife.”

  “I’m a lucky woman.”

  “Ah, Laura,” he murmured. “Go. Have your bath. Put on your nightgown if you must.” He stretched out on the bed, as she hastily threw her nightdress over her head and ran across the carpet.

  “Are you all right in there?”

  Laura had brushed her teeth, bathed and dried herself, adding a dab of perfume. Wearing her nightgown, she hovered before the mirror, splashing cold water on her cheeks that embarrassment had made rosy. “I’m coming,” she called. He must be completely out of patience with her.

  She returned to the room to find he’d turned off all the lights except one lamp. She warmed with a rush of gratitude. He lifted the covers for her, and she slipped into the bed. “I’m sorry I was…”

  She gasped against his lips as he brought his mouth down on hers. When he drew away, she thought he was smiling but wasn’t sure in the dim room.

  “This is pretty,” he said, fingering the lace of her nightgown. “Shall we remove it?”

  Nathaniel pulled it over her head and gathered her close, running his hands over her back and hip. At his touch, a pulse throbbed deep inside, and her breathing quickened. She loved his warm skin against hers when he took her mouth again in a long, passionate kiss, their breaths mingling, his invasion of her mouth incredibly intimate. He tasted of sweet wine. His gentle hands on her body left a trail of sensation. She gasped as he softly stroked her most intimate place. The rush of pleasure his skillful fingers produced brought a moan to her lips.

  He took a nipple in his mouth. She couldn’t help a mew of pleasure. Warmth pooled at the base of her stomach. Nathaniel turned his attention to her other breast with an appreciative moan. Laura’s body throbbed and she was having trouble gaining her breath.

  The room filled with the sound of their raspy breathing. She traced her fingers from the soft, dark hair on his chest, down over his flat, hard stomach, but faltered somewhere near his bellybutton. Nathaniel held her hand and guided it onto himself. His skin was hot and silky and so hard it made her quiver. A flood of moisture gathered at her core.

  “I’ll be gentle.” He kissed the hollow at the base of her throat. “Your first time might be painful.”

  She tensed, but she wanted him so much, she closed her eyes to hide her nervous excitement from him.

  “Look at me, sweetheart. I want to see your beautiful eyes when I make love to you.” He spread her thighs and settled between them. Trying not to stiffen, Laura clutched his shoulders as he nudged her entrance. She whimpered at the burst of pain as he pushed inside. He paused. “All right?”

  “Yes,” she whispered, rather unsure, but determined not to fail him.

  The pain eased as he began to move within her, stirring up emotions she could not have imagined and could barely comprehend. If only she could relax, she was sure she would enjoy it more. She loved the smell of him, the weight of him, his smooth skin and soft hair beneath her hands and the profound closeness she felt when joined with him in this intimate act of love.

  Love? She pushed the thought away.

  Nathaniel kept up a steady rhythm, stirring up a needy, demanding sensation in her stomach. He groaned and withdrew, leaving her unfulfilled and on the verge of tears.

  He kissed her then stroked gently down her body to the sensitive, hard nub throbbing at her core and circled it with a finger. When she cried out at her release, Nathaniel kissed her. He put his arm around her and settled them back on the pillows. She laid her head on his shoulder.

  “Not too uncomfortable?”

  “No,” she whispered. She wished she could tell him it had been wonderful. But the experience had not been as fabulous as the women at university had led her to believe. Her limbs seemed leaden, her eyes difficult to keep open.

  He stroked a long finger down her cheek. “You will come to enjoy it more, I promise.”

  Nathaniel had been considerate of her needs, an attentive lover. To be joined in that intimate way with him, to belong to him was extraordinary. She was quickly falling in love with him. If only he had communicated his love for her. She supposed she had hardly inspired it. When she’d thought of their lovemaking, she’d never envisaged lying like a lump while he did all the work. She would learn to be a good lover, she thought with a resurgence of determination. Lying here against him she felt deliciously warm and safe. She pushed her concerns away as sleep claimed her.

  Laura opened her eyes to daylight. Nathaniel was already awake watching her. He pressed a light kiss to her mouth. “Good morning.”

  “Good morning.”

  He propped his head in his hand. “How are you, sweetheart?”

  She smiled. “Hungry.”

  “Then let’s have breakfast. We have a train to catch.

  “I can’t wait to show you Wolfram.” He kissed her briefly again and leapt out of bed, leaving her oddly lonely. “Care to use the bathroom first?”

  She still felt shy. “No, you
go first.”

  He’d said their lovemaking would be better the second time. Her tiredness had vanished, and she was keen to try, but admitted she was sore and needed a bath. She admired his naked body as he crossed the bedroom toward the bathroom.

  “That’s where our life together will really begin,” he said as he closed the door.

  ***

  Nathaniel stood in the hotel’s ornate bathroom lathering soap over his chin. Poor girl, what kind of a future had he given her in a moment of weakness? He would never be able to give fully of himself or to give her what she needed. His lips firmed, and he finished shaving, bent to splash cold water onto his face then gazed at his reflection. His eyes darkened with regret. What had he done to her?

  When he emerged from the bathroom, Laura had slipped on a negligee, a modest thing with dainty embroidery. She perched on the edge of the bed, a brave smile on her lips, all coltish bare legs as she put on her slippers, her red hair tumbling forward around her shoulders. She had given up so much for him. Compassion gripped him. He would do everything in his power to protect her.

  Chapter Six

  “This is your first time traveling by train?” Nathaniel asked, his gray eyes full of amusement.

  Laura nodded, embarrassed by the sheltered life she’d led. Her parents had insisted she travel in the family carriage with her maid wherever she went.

  “The journey to Penzance takes nine hours,” he said. “We’ll have to change at Plymouth.”

  The train rumbled beneath her, the wheels click-clacking on the tracks. It seemed as if they’d already been traveling for days, having risen so early to go by carriage to Paddington Station. It would be close to five o’clock when they reached Penzance. Nathaniel’s carriage would then take them on to Wolfram.

  “I prefer train travel whenever I go to London for Parliament,” Nathaniel said. “There will be short periods when you will be alone at the abbey. I hope you won’t be lonely.”

  “Of course not, I’ll be too busy,” Laura said in a firm tone, her ribcage tightening with unease.

  She tugged at her collar. The train carriage was humid with the windows shut against the smoke. Every seat filled, even in the first-class compartment. It was difficult to talk to him with a crying baby and a demanding young child sitting opposite, so she couldn’t broach any private concerns.

  “Rest your head against my shoulder,” Nathaniel said, taking her hand.

  Laura settled closer. She watched the green fields, woodland and quaint market towns rush past the window. The speed was remarkable, and the noise! Horses danced away to the far corner of their paddock as the train roared past. The carriage rocked on the track, but at least it didn’t bump one about like a horse-drawn vehicle.

  The novelty of traveling in a train had worn off by the time they reached Plymouth and changed trains. Finding the movement hypnotic, Laura closed her eyes.

  ***

  “Wake up, Laura. We’ve arrived.”

  Laura sat up so quickly her head spun. She rubbed her eyes. The train had pulled into the station. Nathaniel stood and began to pull down their bags from the shelf overhead.

  After he helped her down onto the platform, she turned to survey her new home, but a mist hung over Penzance. Laura could see little beyond the end of the street.

  “There’s Ben Teg.” Nathaniel strode toward the road where a fair-haired young man jumped from a smart brougham and hurried to meet them.

  “Teg, this is your new mistress, Lady Lanyon.”

  Teg touched his cap. “Dynnargh dhis, my lady.”

  “Good afternoon, Teg,” Laura said, thinking she must learn some Cornish words. “Will this mist make it difficult for us to travel?”

  “Not for a Cornish lad, Your Ladyship. I’ll get you safe and sound to the porth.”

  Although she found Teg hard to understand, Laura liked his friendly, open face. “I imagine the porth means a harbor?” she asked Nathaniel in an undertone.

  “It does. You’ll become familiar with the language in time.” Nathaniel placed his portmanteau and Laura’s carpetbag in the brougham and assisted her up the step. “Teg has been with the family all his life, and his father before him.”

  When the sun broke through the bank of clouds, the temperature seemed to rise several degrees. It was warmer here than in London, and she sweltered in her brocade suit. She would change as soon as she reached home. Home. The word sent a shiver of excitement through her. She was impatient to see Wolfram.

  Laura opened her parasol, as Teg, along with another servant, stacked the trunk and bandboxes into the trap.

  Teg jumped up onto the seat of the brougham and took up the reins. “Walk on.” He cracked his whip, and they set off along a lane bordered by paddocks and high hedge rows.

  They had only been traveling a matter of minutes when an obstacle struck the carriage door on Nathaniel’s side with a bang. Whatever the projectile was bounced away into the ragged gorse bushes before Laura could catch sight of it.

  “What was that?” she asked, as Nathaniel stood up to stare back along the road. Unaware, or seemingly unaffected, Teg slapped the reins, and they turned a corner where shrubs and trees blocked the road behind them.

  Nathaniel took his seat. “Someone might wish to voice an opinion,” he said in a humorless tone.

  “Opinion? Of what?”

  Nathaniel placed his arm along the back of the seat as if to protect her. “I was jesting. It was more likely to be a stone on the road, thrown up by the wheel. Forget it, please. I want you to enjoy your first day here, instead of worrying over little things of no importance.”

  She shivered. He had not been joking. Nathaniel’s words were clipped; he was angry, although not with her.

  The beauty of the place made her push the incident away. They followed the river through a green valley ringed by forest. A flock of birds disappeared into the misty distance as if by magic, their calls muted. Dry stone walls crisscrossed the countryside. Black-faced sheep paused to watch the carriage pass by.

  When they topped a rise, the clouds shifted. Laura caught her first sight of the sea, like golden gauze under a westerly sun.

  She craned her neck. “I can see the water!”

  “A pity we have fog today. But you will come to love the mists here at Wolfram as I do.”

  She wasn’t entirely sure she would ever relish the suffocating fog, not if it was anything like London, but she patted his hand, which rested on hers. “I know I shall.”

  Small cottages crammed into a warren of narrow cobbled lanes as they traversed the road leading down to the bay. The seaside embraced them, warm, salty and unfamiliar. Foreign smells washed over Laura. Gulls cawed overhead in the misty sky, the view over the water vanishing into thick fog.

  They arrived at the water’s edge where a row of narrow-fronted houses, a shop and an ancient Tudor inn faced the harbor foreshore. Fishing boats bobbed along the seawall where a wash of surging waves sent a curtain of spray over the paved quayside.

  Nathaniel motioned to the inn called The Sail and Anchor. “We’ll take some refreshment.” He jumped down and turned to assist her.

  Laura suffered a wrench of disappointment. She was eager to reach the abbey. “Can’t we go home?”

  “The causeway’s underwater, Your Ladyship,” Teg explained, standing at the horses’ heads. “We must wait for the tide to turn before we can take the carriage across.”

  Laura raised her eyebrows and stared at Nathaniel. “There’s a causeway?”

  “It’s high tide. Shouldn’t be more than an hour before we can proceed.”

  Laura was silenced, incredulous that he had not seen fit to explain this to her before. The prospect of being cut off from the mainland unnerved her as she stared out over the misty stretch of water. Beyond a glowing description of the abbey’s history, Nathaniel had told her little that really mattered. Not that they were to live on an island. And nothing of his first marriage. She bit her lip, needing to be reassured.


  He took her arm in a purposeful grip. “We’ll take the boat, Teg. I’ll leave you to bring the luggage. Lady Lanyon is impatient to see her new home.”

  Teg touched his cap “Right you are, Your Lordship.”

  Laura walked with Nathaniel along the harbor foreshore to where a fishing boat unloaded its catch onto the wharf, and squabbling gulls dived in a hungry frenzy. The men nodded as she and Nathaniel approached, studying her with ill-concealed curiosity. She’d never smelled anything like the overpowering stench of fish, but she managed not to take out her handkerchief. Instead, she smiled at the men. “It seems you’ve had a splendid catch today.”

  “Better than most, madam,” one craggy-faced man replied, tossing his knife into a bucket.

  Nathaniel paused. “My wife, men, Baroness, Lady Lanyon.”

  The fishermen removed their hats and murmured a welcome. She found their manner guarded. Nathaniel was too formal. Perhaps he didn’t associate much with the village folk. She most certainly would.

  “Here we are. The steps are slippery. I’ll carry you down,” Nathaniel said.

  A rowing boat tied up at the wharf bobbed about in the water. Nathaniel hefted her into his arms and descended, then set her on her feet on a step beside the boat. Laura eyed it with alarm.

  Nathaniel held her arm and assisted her as the craft rocked alarmingly under her feet. “Sit there in the middle.”

  Uneasy, Laura obeyed. Her woolen suit was completely unsuitable for scrambling about in boats. Unstable in her high-heeled boots, she clung to the hard, wooden seat as the boat danced on the waves. The ocean swirled beneath them, deep and forbidding. What had she gotten herself into?

  Chapter Seven

  When Nathaniel sat opposite Laura and picked up the oars, Teg untied the mooring rope and pushed them away from the dock. Nathaniel began to row, steering the boat out into the bay. Within minutes, they had left Teg and the wharf behind.