His brittle gaze crept away from her maidservant. Eliza straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin, showing him he’d not change her position on the matter of Leticia.
“I forbid you from marrying this…this…” Geoffrey spit the words out in a voice nasally from his injury.
“I must, Geoffrey, else I will inherit naught.”
“What say you?”
His demanding tone bit into her defiant side, and she chomped on her tongue to prevent a reprimand from escaping. Well he knew she hated being ordered.
“Signor Da Mitri and I have both inherited the marchese’s property. If we do not marry posthaste, we shall lose the inheritance.”
To that, the signore spoke up. “On the morrow, the lady and I will ride into town and speak our binding vows. I fear you cannot change the circumstances that have led us to a hasty marriage.”
Tension thickened the air. Eliza feared the two men would clash in a true battle. Each sat with a rigid back and a murderous glare, appearing on the verge of assaulting one another.
“You should return to England, Geoffrey. There is naught more either of us can do.” Most grateful she was. At least the odd inheritance saved her from a life of marital misery, though she could be just as miserable with the Italian. Granted, he was the more attractive of the two. By far, she added mentally. And he didn’t whine or pout just to get his way.
The signore cast a stringent look at Geoffrey. “Elizabella’s maidservant will accompany you.”
“Milady—?”
“You’ll not be going anywhere, Letty.” Fed up, she stomped her foot. “Faith, you are all giving me a headache.”
“Doubtful it is worse than mine,” Leo muttered.
“And you, Signor Da Mitri, will make your bed in the thatched house near the stable.”
“Miseria, you are a difficult wench.”
“I have told you not to refer to Lady Eliza as a wench. It is an insult and disrespectful.” Geoffrey’s voice rose to near hysteria. “Do you not know the difference between a lady and a common serving wench?”
Leo’s gut twisted. His muscles hardened a little more with each step his ire climbed. “I’ll not sit here trading meaningless words with a man who knows not when he has been beaten.” He rose and grasped the table edge to steady his stance. “The wench is no longer your concern. She is now my fiancée.”
The Englishman screamed higher than a castrated boy and charged Leo. The maidservant lifted her broom, and Leo wasn’t sure which stalking spawn disturbed him more. His rage seldom reared its ugly head, and when it did, it released a maelstrom.
He stepped aside. Camden’s momentum carried him into the bench Leo had vacated. He cringed when the man’s nose met with the hard wood. Caring not if the dandy had decapitated himself, Leo snatched the broom from the maidservant and broke it over his raised knee. He pinned her with a harsh glare.
“From this moment forward, you are forbidden from touching another broom.”
He tossed down the two pieces, the wood handle hitting the floor silenced by the dandy’s wail. Leo whirled on him.
“Basta!” The pathetic fool did not take heed. Leo realized the man didn’t understand Italian. “Enough,” he bellowed. “Santo, take this man out with the scraps.” Eliza rushed forward. Leo raised his hand to stop her from helping her countryman. “Stay where you are.”
She huffed. He didn’t have long to wait before she stomped her foot.
“You have no right issuing commands to Geoffrey…or to any of us.”
Damn argumentative wench. More, though, captured his attention. Riled, the color in her cheeks heightened, her hands fisted, and her eyes changed too many hues to count. The sight scratched at his lust.
“You have no authority in my castle.” She folded her arms beneath her breasts.
Eduardo cleared his throat. “Your pardon.” He addressed Leo and Eliza. “After you speak your vows, the castle and the marchese’s land will be available to both of you.”
“But the will—” Eliza glanced at Leo, but he stared at the servant bearing the truth.
Eduardo’s eyes filled with sorrow for the woman’s distress. “Lady Elizabella, you must have known with marriage comes your properties and all. Signor Da Mitri will own the castle as well…if you are still here by the end of the will’s term. If he leaves first, then it will all be yours, signorina.”
Leo’s tough exterior remained, but inside he was gloating. “Apparently, Eduardo, the wench had forgotten that minor detail.”
“Oh!” She pounded her foot on the floor. “May you go to the devil, Signor Da Mitri.”
“Eliza,” Geoffrey moaned, boosting his need for sympathy.
Her gaze narrowed on him. “For God’s sake, Geoffrey, get up. Be a man for once.”
As she ran-walked toward the stairs, Leo had no reason to stop his grin from pounding the final nail into the Englishman’s farewell.
****
The horse’s easy gate lulled Eliza into a safe, untroubled place. Astutely aware of Signor Da Mitri riding alongside her, she focused on the things she’d do to the castle during their year-long, meaningless marriage.
“Has Camden gone?” he asked.
She gave him a sidelong glance. Her heart spiraled to her throat, but she thwarted a sigh over his fine figure. He had changed into a blue tunic as pale as his eyes. It was a slight measure finer than what he’d worn for days. Granted, they were by no means elegant. At least he wouldn’t embarrass her in his pauper’s clothes. “He promised he would be gone by the afternoon.”
“Are you sorry he is leaving?”
“Signor—”
“Leonardo.” He leaned toward her and whispered, “Leo, if you wish.”
Perhaps indulging him by speaking his Christian name would rid her of one less battle. “Leonardo, then. And no, I am not sorry Geoffrey is leaving.”
“Then why the pout of bereavement? We are not riding in a funeral procession.”
“Convince my heart of that.” She caught her breath and promptly turned away to focus on the townspeople afoot, a few on horseback. She’d not give him a glimpse of her feminine senses behaving improperly. He surprised her by letting her comment fall to the side of the road.
“Ahhh, a nervous bride, I think.”
The sun caught on the streaks of blond in his hair, illuminating his head like an angel’s halo. The signore was no angel, though. “An unwilling bride.”
“Do not worry, bella mia. You’ll not be sorry after we are wed. And I’ll not disappoint you when we take to our marriage bed this eve.”
“That was not in the will. I need not share your bed as your wife.”
“Then share my bed as a beautiful woman who enjoys a man’s caresses…his kisses…his—”
“Do not go on.” Her mind raced. The image of them abed filled her with fear. She knew not the first thing about being a wife, or what a husband expected. Kisses she didn’t mind. In fact, she liked how his tender lips enticed hers to respond. The sensation of floating on air enveloped her body each time they kissed, but there could be no more between them. Simply stated, she could not go back to England with the signore’s child growing in her belly.
“Are you ill,” he asked. A crease lay across his forehead. He nodded in the direction of her midsection. “You are rubbing your stomach as if trying to hold back your morning meal.”
Eliza dropped her hand like a heavy stone to her lap. “No, I am not ill. Yet I will say you this, signore—” A low growl slipped through Leonardo’s hard lips. “Beg your pardon. As I was saying…” She inhaled to relieve the stress of speaking his name with familiarity. It made their relationship—forced as it was—more intimate. “Leonardo, we need not live on pretenses. Neither you nor I truly accept this marriage. Please consider seeking out mistresses to take the place of your wife.”
A single eyebrow shot up. “Will you take lovers?”
Affronted, Eliza spit out her reply. “I should say not!”
&nbs
p; “Then I shall afford you the same respect and loyalty. No mistress will I need once you realize your desire to consummate our union. Do not deny it,” he was quick to add when indeed she started to deny his claim. “Your virginal flesh blushes when we kiss, as it does when we are in a room together.”
Perplexed by his astute observation, she ignored him and stared at Giorgie driving the single-horse wagon. The entrance gate leading into the walled town loomed ahead. Her rattled nerves upset more than her stomach, and her mind all but closed off the coming wedding.
Up ahead, Eduardo sat behind Giorgie. His hunched form rocked with the motion of the wagon. Pray he’d reveal the will’s preposterous stipulation was a joke. She’d not get angry, for she’d be too relieved to carry on. Leticia sat beside the servant, her posture severe. Eduardo turned his head and met her troubled stare. What she read in his eyes unsettled Eliza. Marchese Calendri’s written words were not folly. Pray she’d not strangle Leonardo before the year’s end.
****
No formal ceremony was planned for the wedding. For all its simplicity, Leo wore his pride as if he was a true noble. Eliza stood in rigid form beside him. She hadn’t given him another look since their conversation about mistresses and lovers. Despite her dour view of their marriage, Leo was pleased to take to wife a woman as beautiful and feisty as Eliza Godwin.
Her angelic profile calmed the rugged sea crashing within him. More was his indecision over bedding the wench. Though he sired no children he knew of, he discovered his mind journeyed down that path of late, even before he met the Englishwoman. Sons or daughters, he cared not what God bestowed upon him. What would Eliza say if he voiced his thoughts about starting a family with her?
“Can we not get on with this?” she complained.
In her glowing eyes, Leo saw a headstrong woman. From her combed waves with a mind of their own, to her cherry blossom gown, down to her leather and silk slippers, Leo knew she’d never subordinate herself to a man—any man. Oh, the pleasures to be had from trying to bend her obstinate nature to his liking.
“Look there.” He pointed to a side door. The priest’s footsteps made nary a sound as his lumbering gait carried him closer. He was quite old. Faith, so old, Leo feared he’d die before their vows were spoken.
“I do apologize for my unexpected delay.”
His unsteady stance bothered Leo. Perhaps the man wasn’t beyond old after all. He was besotted!
“Now…” The priest glanced from Leo to Eliza, surprised perhaps to see a refined lady in the company of a commoner. “Signore, signorina, shall we begin?”
****
Eliza had never been so humiliated. The priest had passed out right after they’d spoken their vows, leaving her and Leonardo to wonder if they’d been truly married. This was not how she pictured her wedding. Granted, naught about the wedding was normal. But the priest crumbling to the floor from too much ale?
She stomped her foot then marched to her horse. In her anger, she wasn’t aware of Leonardo until he scooped her into his arms and hugged her to his body. Stunned, she stared into the mischief painting his eyes a shocking blue.
“I am capable of walking.”
He ignored her admonition. “I am simply lifting my wife up to my horse.”
“Your—” When he tossed her upon the horse’s neck, Eliza shrieked. Thankfully, he held onto her or she might have fallen over the other side of the animal. The strength in Leonardo’s arms was impressive. Keeping her on the horse was no effort on his part.
“Think you I would allow you to fall? You must learn to trust me, wife.”
Blast his devilish grin. “My name is Eliza.”
He grabbed the reins of her horse then mounted behind her. “Sì, I am aware of that. I am merely exercising my tongue to become familiar with my new rank in life.”
“I would prefer to ride my own horse.” She struggled to keep her hip away from his groin as she huffed her discontent. “And you, signore, have no rank.”
Her rising temper sought freedom, but Leonardo
stole her lips and her breath with a kiss meant to cut short her discourse. The air thinned in her lungs and left her lightheaded. She scrunched his tunic in her hands, fearful she’d lose her position and tumble to the cobblestone. His onslaught continued, the kiss urgent. A sigh floated up her chest and rested around his velvet tongue. Her hand fell to his thigh. His muscle jerked beneath her palm, but he inundated her senses, making rational thought impossible. She lost sight of what she’d done.
He eased up, taking his time ending the kiss and lingering at her lips for seconds more. His warm, wine-tinged breaths caressed her face. The skin near his temple crinkled when he smiled, a victorious smile, she mused. Eliza’s senses finally returned. She’d slap him for his boldness in public, but he’d probably slap her back. She was his wife and he lord and master. A woman’s lot in marriage that didn’t sit well.
“Know you why I kissed you?”
“Because you are a beast?”
His chuckle resonated in her ears. “No, my beauty, I have yet to show you the beast I am. I kissed you because you did not speak my name. We are husband and wife. Formality is no longer warranted.” His gaze softened. “Truth be told, you are a pleasure to kiss, and I shall kiss you each time I am in the mood.”
Eliza snapped her posture into a straight line from her head to her seat. Her hip kept sliding to the man part bulging through his clothing. Sitting sideways on the same horse as Leonardo proved uncomfortable. She squirmed.
“If you do not cease your restlessness, I will be forced to seek out the nearest inn and consummate our marriage.”
She searched his features for a sign of playfulness. What she saw shimmied through her body like a graceful serpent. Serious he most certainly was. And proud, it seemed.
“Then return me to my horse.”
“I think not.”
“Remember this, Leonardo. Our marriage will never be consummated. We must keep up the pretense of husband and wife for one year—”
“And a day.”
Eliza bunched her hands. “—after which you will go on your way and the marchese’s castle and property will become mine.”
The light in his eyes glittered down upon her. “And if neither of us leaves when the terms of the will have passed?”
What then, indeed? She had given that possibility some thought. All that came of it was despair that she’d be stuck in Italy for the rest of her life, and leave her family and friends behind in England.
Eliza tightened her mouth in a frown. “I intend to inherit all that was the marchese’s. However, I do have a proposition.”
A single brow quirked upward. “Which is?”
“Eventually, I shall return to England, and I shall need someone to look after what Marchese Calendri left to me. Mayhap you are right for the job since you will have invested a year of your life thinking you would be the one who inherits all.”
“I do not think, bella mia. I know.”
Eliza bristled. She’d have stomped her foot had she not sat upon a horse. A glimmer of confidence exuded from Leonardo’s gaze. He sat erect, proud and invincible. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, she realized the next year and a day would be the longest of her life.
Chapter 6
The instant they reached the castle, Eliza ran up to her chamber. Chagrined, Leo decided the time was right to set up rules with his strong-willed wife. She’d dislike them, but in order to survive living together as a married couple, they must come to an understanding.
At the top of the stairs, he stared at the closed door to her chamber. A flitter low in his belly flirted with his nerves. Unaccustomed to indecision and turmoil, for he’d dealt with each straight on in the past, he organized what he’d say to her. Inhaling deeply, he marched over to the chamber door and burst in without first knocking. Across the room, she froze, horror trespassing her features. She wore a chemise and naught else. Leo’s concentration sabotaged, he filled his sight wit
h his wife’s curvy body. His fingers twitched, begging to touch her, to caress her unspoiled breasts and pinched in waist. The flare of her hips left him dry-mouthed. He licked his lips but lost the battle when his perusal dropped to the top of her thighs and the part of her he desired to taste.
She snatched up her dress and used it as a shield to cover her near nakedness. It did little to cool his rebellious lust. “Must you barge into my private chamber?”
Her tone rebuked him, but he brushed it aside. His ragged breaths guided his love-starved craving for his wife. Without a single lucid thought, he stretched his strides and caught her in his embrace. He crushed his mouth to hers, squelching her protests, and groaned from the fury rampaging throughout his body.
In his arms, she soon became pliable. He kissed her with a passion that had been missing in his life. A passion he’d never felt for any other woman. He bent her back over his arm, cupping the back of her head to make it known he’d not drop her. He slipped his tongue into her mouth and tarried with hers until she felt the same inability to control the impulse to be intimate.
Leo slid his hand up her thigh, her flesh velvet beneath his touch. Her hip curved gently. Roving past the dip at her waist and up her delicate ribcage, he molded his hand to her breast. Her soft gasp tickled his tongue. Leo tore away with a fierce growl and pressed his lips to her heated neck. She sucked in her breath. He raced up and recaptured her mouth, her breath softly floating past her lips to sigh upon his.
Her nipple hardened against his palm. Wicked temptation spurred his moment of insanity. Temptation won. Leo wrenched the gown from her grip and stripped her tunic over her head. Shock fused with embarrassment and paralyzed her for the moment. Enough time to drink in her beautifully naked body. He dipped his head and caught sight of the little patch of hair protecting her virginity. If he had no intention of bedding her, why then did he suffer from the hardest erection he’d ever had?
Her shock abated. Her arm shot up to shield her breasts from his view. One gloved hand dropped to cover the part of her he longed to feel as he gently took her innocence.
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