Foolish Bride

by A. S. Fenichel

  “Thank you,” she replied, without looking up.

  “Are you sad because they don’t understand?” Thomas placed a hand on her shoulder.

  Elinor should have made her presence known, but she wasn’t ready to give up her solitude.

  “I am sad because it was wasted.” Dory looked at him and brushed her tears away.

  He knelt facing her. “Not so, Lady Flammel. I heard every note. I reveled in your glory and sorrow. Your music was not wasted on me. I am humbled by your gift.”

  A wisp of a smile lit her face. “Thank you, Mr. Wheel. You are very kind. But if we were to be seen now with you kneeling before me, I am afraid you would have to marry me, since the gossips will insist you are proposing.”

  He stared at her for a long minute.

  “Please get up, Mr. Wheel,” she whispered.

  He complied but did not move away. “The last piece was your own composition?”

  “I only finished it last week. It really was not ready to be played, but I didn’t think it would make a difference tonight.” She stood and smoothed her skirts.

  “You are too hard on yourself. It was beautiful and touching. Half the crowd was in tears when you finished.” He offered his arm, and they walked toward the ballroom together.

  She smiled. “Thank you.”

  “Thank you, Lady Dorothea. I feel I have been given a gift this evening.”

  “You have made this evening tolerable, Mr. Wheel. I hate performing in public.”

  He inclined his head, and they left.

  Elinor remained in her hiding place long after they’d gone but eventually had to rejoin the party.

  * * * *

  Feet aching, Elinor was sick of dancing with men Mother threw at her. She stepped off the veranda and walked into the garden. Eventually, she found a quiet, secluded area near the orangery.

  Having been friends with Dory since they were children, she knew her way around the gardens quite well. No one ever came to the large glass building where the Earl of Castlereagh had decided to keep orange and lemon trees as if his home were Versailles. She stepped into the warm humid air. It reminded her of when she and Dorothea played in the greenhouse. If the season was right, they would eat oranges and get sticky with the juices. Sometimes they would dare each other to eat a lemon and laugh at the faces the sour taste produced.

  “I cannot tell if you are happy or sad.” Michael stood a few feet away, watching her.

  Heart in her throat, she opened her eyes. “You scared me.”

  He closed the gap between them. “I am sorry. I saw you come in here, and I followed.”

  “I didn’t even know you had arrived yet.”

  That guilty smile charmed her as it always did. “I admit I have been keeping out of sight, hoping to catch you alone. I really do not wish to be the focus of gossip.”

  “If people know you followed me into the orangery, then we shall both be the center of attention, and not at all good.”

  “It is worth the risk to see you.”

  “Was there something you wanted to say, Michael?” More curious than afraid, she stood her ground, even though he was close enough that the warm scent of him weakened her knees. It was like being a lamb stalked by a wolf.

  “There are many things that I should tell you, my Elinor. But for now, I would just like to look at you. I cannot describe how beautiful you are to me.” His tone was humble. “The way your lips curve and how you lick them when you’re nervous.”

  Elinor jerked her tongue back into her mouth.

  “I love your hands. They are strong, yet delicate. I always thought so. It is strange that I only noticed the rest of your strength after I’d lost you.”

  She folded her hands in front of her. Then, not knowing what to do with them, she pulled them behind her back and clasped them there. This motion thrust her chest forward.

  Michael’s eyes traveled from her arms to her breasts. “I long to touch you, to feel your perfect breasts in my hands and caress you until you cry out for more.” Tears glistened in his eyes.

  “Michael.” She rushed into his arms.

  “Oh, Elinor.” He crushed her to him. “I miss you so. You should have been my wife by now. Every day I should be touching you, and every day I regret everything I have done in the past few months.”

  She knew she should run from him before she made another mistake that would ruin her life. Desire too great to ignore kept her in his arms. “Just hold me and be quiet.”

  Laughter sounded from outside.

  The greenhouse butted up against the stone wall around the Castlereagh property. Potting tables and some stools had been stored in the corner. Lemon trees hid the storage. Once Michael and Elinor were behind them, they were secluded in the obscured garden light.

  Michael pulled her into his arms and kissed her cheek. Then he licked her earlobe, sending a bolt through her. Trailing light kisses along her jaw to her chin, he traced alluring paths with his fingers, up and down her arms and back.

  “Michael.” His name came out on a sigh. Longing to express her feelings, the words wouldn’t come. Desire swamped her.

  His mouth covered hers, gently at first, then on a moan his tongue touched hers. The rhythm he set intoxicated her into following his lead.

  Nothing was as wonderful as wrapping her arms around Michael’s shoulders and playing with the curls at his neck. Nor was any felicity as grand as his kisses or what they did to her.

  Grabbing her bottom, he pulled her into him.

  “Oh, Michael, I want…”

  “Yes, my love, what do you want?” He was hard against her.

  Since the termination of their engagement, she had formed an idea about what his malady actually was. Perhaps she had been wrong, but if not, he seemed much better. Curiosity and desire well overrode her shyness, making her bold. She rubbed him through his breeches.

  Growing harder, he pressed against her hand, his breeches near bursting. He moaned. “Elinor, please.”

  Afraid of hurting him, she yanked her hand away. “But, I thought…”

  Shadows hid his face, but his voice filled with joy. “Yes, well, it seems the doctors were wrong. I appear to be healing.”

  “I do not know what to say.” Gasping, she caught her breath.

  He scooped her up and placed her lightly on one of the tables. “Do not say anything, my love.” Standing between her legs, he caressed the edge of her bodice. “Shall I stop?”

  Everywhere he touched burned for more and left her moaning in answer.

  Tugging the fabric, he exposed her nipple, which he covered with his mouth.

  Gripping his head, she pressed him tighter to her and a squeak of surprise and delight escaped her lips. Something tightened in her stomach, and sensations flurried between her legs. Michael caressed her calf, but she was distracted by the delights of his mouth.

  He paid the same attention to her other breast, and his fingers crept higher on her leg.

  Only the rhythm of their tongues touching and lips melding mattered. The good-girl voice in her head tried to warn her, but she shushed the pesky droning.

  He traced up her inner thigh, and touched her most intimate spot.

  Wanting to call for more, all she managed was an unintelligible cry as she wrapped her legs around him. “Oh. What—”

  “Shhh. It’s all right, Elinor. Trust me. You are so wet. I would make you mine, but it’s too soon.”

  As he slipped a finger inside her, she clutched him tighter. Wanting something she couldn’t describe, she pressed into his hand.

  Rubbing her bud, he thrust quicker until the straining ruptured into pure delight. With a demanding kiss, he muffled her cries.

  Sensations rolled over and through her and she couldn’t speak. Rapture swelled and broke, and she clutched him tighter with each wave.

  “My God, Elinor. I cannot wait until you are mine.” He kissed her forehead.

  Fi
nally, everything settled. “You mean there is more?”

  “Yes, sweet, so much more.” On the sharp angles of his features, joy turned to agony and he gripped his head. Staggering, he clutched the table.

  Jumping off the table, Elinor’s heart raced. She wrapped her arm around his back. “What’s wrong, Michael? What is it?”

  “I am okay.” His knees buckled, forcing him to kneel.

  “You are in pain. What can I do?” Exposed and awkward, she righted her gown.

  Sweat beaded on his brow, and his skin was like parchment. Vital moments earlier, he now looked near death, panting for breath. “I am afraid I am not quite healed. Would you see if you can find Thomas? I believe I shall need some help getting home.”

  “I will go at once.” Before she could take a step, he grabbed her hand.

  A few labored breaths later, he said, “Elinor.”

  Their eyes met, and she touched his cheek. In that moment, in that gaze, they shared their feelings. This kind of love could survive anything, even a London scandal.

  Chapter 12

  Elinor rushed from the Orangery in search of Thomas Wheel. She hoped she wouldn’t have to go into the ballroom. Certain she looked thoroughly ravished, she shouldn’t be seen by too many guests.

  Luck was on her side. Not a hundred yards from where she left Michael, she found Sophia and Daniel strolling in the garden.

  Elinor rushed to intercept them, then grabbed Daniel’s jacket. “Daniel, it’s Michael.”

  “What about him?” Frowning, Daniel kept his voice steady.

  “He has collapsed in the orangery.” Without waiting for reaction, she ran toward the greenhouse.

  Daniel and Sophia followed close behind.

  Michael perched on the edge of a chair, with his head in both hands.

  “Mike, what is it?”

  “I need to get home, Dan.” The low tone and grating in his voice broke her heart.

  She had done this to him. Somehow, their passion had caused him injury.

  Nodding, Daniel helped him to his feet. “We’ll go out the garden gate and take my carriage. Lady Marlton will see that your driver returns home. Lady Elinor, will you see that my wife gets home safely? I would like to remain with his grace until he is well.”

  “Of course,” Elinor said. She longed to go with the men and take care of Michael, but it was neither appropriate nor possible.

  Sophia and Elinor followed them to the garden gate.

  As he turned, Michael’s hair shone in the moonlight, out of sorts with his sickly pallor. “I am fine, Elinor. I just need to rest.”

  “Come, Elinor.” Sophia tugged her elbow. “We cannot remain here.” She led her toward the garden.

  Elinor stopped, straightened her gown, and brushed out her skirts. “Do I look all right?”

  Sophia put Elinor’s curls back in place and fixed the lace at her collar. “Your color is high, but the heat of the ball can be used as an excuse.”

  “Then I suppose we had better return.” She took a deep breath and swallowed a lump of emotion building in her chest.

  “Is there anything you’d like to talk about before we return?” Sophia cocked her head.

  “Perhaps at another time, Sophia. Right now my head is spinning with too many things.”

  With a nod, Sophia took her arm and they walked back to the house.

  The moment they entered the ballroom, Tabitha Rollins appeared before them. “Lady Elinor, what a pleasure to see you again.” Michael’s mother smiled warmly.

  Elinor dipped into a curtsy. “The pleasure is mine, my lady.”

  Behind her, a quadrille played and dancers clomped around the dance floor.

  “Countess Marlton, you are looking as lovely as ever. Is your husband nearby? I hoped he might know where my son is.”

  Sophia stepped close and lowered her voice. “I am afraid that his grace, your son, was not feeling well. Marlton is seeing him home.”

  Eyes wide, Tabitha leaned forward. “Was it something serious?”

  “I believe he had a rather bad headache. I do not think it’s anything for you to worry about. Daniel just wanted to make sure Michael was well and at home.” Sophia had managed the account better than Elinor could have.

  “I see. I will call on him tomorrow.” She stepped away, then turned and touched Elinor’s arm. “It was nice to see you again, my dear. I am staying with my friend, Lady Cheltingham. I would be pleased if you would call on me. It has been a long time since we had a chat.”

  Since it was impossible to visit Michael, perhaps she could glean his condition from his mother. Emotions brimming, Elinor couldn’t take much more from an already staggering evening. “I shall call the day after tomorrow, since you will see your son tomorrow, if that would suit you, my lady.”

  “Lovely, I’ll look forward to it.” In a rustle of lavender fabric, Tabitha disappeared into the crowd.

  “Come on, let’s see if we can locate Dory,” Sophia said.

  At the edge of the ballroom, Dory and Thomas Wheel stood too close, deep in conversation. Talking about music, they were so engrossed neither noticed they were no longer alone.

  “Are you enjoying the ball?” Sophia said.

  Thomas stepped back. “It is quite distracting.”

  Sophia raised an eyebrow. “Your concert was magnificent, Dory. Don’t you think so, Tom?”

  “We were just discussing it.”

  “I am glad you enjoyed it, Sophia.” Dory smiled.

  “I will leave you ladies to your privacy.” Thomas turned to Dory. “Thank you, Lady Dorothea, it has been a pleasure.” He winked at his good friend Sophia before leaving.

  “What was that all about?” Sophia asked.

  Dory shrugged. “He liked my music. That is all.”

  “Hmmm,” Sophia said.

  * * * *

  As soon as he arrived home, Michael removed his jacket and cravat and tossed them on the chair in the corner of his study. He sprawled on the soft couch and closed his eyes.

  Daniel closed the door. “Shall I pour you a drink, Mike?”

  “You do not have to stay and nurse me, Dan. I only have a headache.” He put his arm over his eyes. The pressure helped ease the pain.

  Daniel rang for a servant and the butler appeared a moment later. “Would you get his grace a cold cloth please?”

  Nodding, the butler retreated.

  “I am not nursing you. I am seeing an old friend home when he is under the weather. I only thought you might need a drink of brandy. I know that I do.” Daniel’s jacket was crisp and his cravat tied to perfection. Not one hair was out of place.

  “Help yourself. None for me, though.”

  Ignoring him, Daniel poured two drinks, then sat in the large wingback chair across from the couch. “Drink. It might help.”

  Michael drank it in one swallow, then rested his head on the arm of the couch.

  The door opened, and a maid arrived with a cold cloth on a silver platter.

  Placing it over his eyes, he sighed with the slightest relief.

  Daniel refilled both glasses. “Better?”

  “A bit.”

  “Good. Have another drink, then tell me what has been going on.” Daniel spoke softly, but it was a demand nevertheless.

  The pain in his head dulled to a bearable throb, and Michael sat up. He tossed the cloth on the tray and picked up the brandy glass. “What are you talking about?”

  “We have been friends a long time, Mike. I know you are exalted to the title of duke now and far outrank your lowly friend, The Earl of Marlton. However, I feel privileged.”

  “How so?”

  “I am glad you asked.” Daniel sipped his brandy, leaned back, and crossed one leg over his knee. “I know all your secrets. So, duke or not, I would like to know what is going on. Are you still pursuing Lady Elinor and, if so, why did you toss her aside to begin with?”

  “I did not toss
her aside!” Shouting had been a mistake. He gripped his head.

  Daniel wagged his finger and tutted. “Best not to lose your temper.”

  After several moments, Daniel still waited for an explanation.

  “Relentless.” Everything that had happened to him since returning from France defied all honor. “I did not think I could be a true husband to her on account of my wounds. The indications were I would never recover fully. All the doctors were certain the effects were permanent. I thought it only fair to release her from our contract, and her father was most adamant about it.”

  Putting his glass on the table, Daniel leaned forward. “What did the lady think?”

  Michael drank the remainder of his brandy, reveling in the slow burn. “She said she did not care about my injury. She still wished the marriage. Of course, she is innocent and had no idea what she was talking about. I had to release her. It was the right thing to do.”

  “Hmmm.” Daniel had been both serene yet intense since they were boys. “What changed?”

  “The doctors appear to have been wrong about my…capabilities returning.”

  Daniel clapped, but apologized immediately for the sharp noise that went right to Michael’s head. “And the headaches?”

  “A new phenomenon. When I become excited, the pain is quite leveling.” Michael took the brandy decanter from the shelf, refilled both glasses, and sat back down.

  With a shrug, Daniel accepted the drink and leaned back. “The pain may also be temporary.”

  “I hope so.”

  Tugging on his cravat, Daniel pulled the knot free. “What were you doing in the orangery to bring on this headache tonight?”

  Every moment of his life was public domain. Elinor would be mortified, but luckily only their true friends would ever know anything. Their secrets were safe. “I have not ruined her, if that is what you are asking.”

  “Good. Middleton would not appreciate his wife being sullied before his wedding night.”

  “Middleton will never have her!” Pain shot through his skull. He gripped his throbbing head. “I will somehow repair all of this. Elinor Burkenstock will be my wife. Hell, she should already be mine. If I hadn’t been such an ass and allowed myself to be talked into that damned last trip, I would be happily making love to my sweet wife every night.”