Amberley Chronicles Boxset II (Amberley Chronicles Box Sets Book 2)

Home > Other > Amberley Chronicles Boxset II (Amberley Chronicles Box Sets Book 2) > Page 79
Amberley Chronicles Boxset II (Amberley Chronicles Box Sets Book 2) Page 79

by May Burnett


  “It will be good practice for Margaret and Vanessa,” Emily added. “As a woman who has had three separate weddings, I consider myself an expert.”

  “I want William to be included in the consultation,” Margaret said, and Marianne sent a footman to look for him and Terence, as they were now all calling Lord Laxeley.

  “Your mother specified a small private wedding, but I think we can do better than that,” Marianne began when all of them were assembled. “As a surprise to the couple, of course. They have left all the arrangements in my hands.”

  “Then they can hardly complain if it turns out to be the wedding of the decade,” Emily said. “Go ahead, Marianne, tell us what you have in mind. We are all your eager minions, and will do your bidding to the letter.”

  Marianne smiled.

  ***

  Later in the day Margaret came across Vanessa and Ruth in the conservatory, companionably silent as each was immersed in a book.

  “You have the right idea, to enjoy the quiet before the storm,” she told them. “Once Marianne’s preparations get under way we shall not have a moment’s respite.”

  “It should be interesting, nonetheless,” Ruth said. “I am very much enjoying this house party. It is the first time in my life I was invited anywhere on my own, without Betty along.”

  Away from her overbearing twin and the mother who favoured Betty, among people who appreciated her, Ruth Harris was blooming. Margaret’s discreet tutelage in matters of fashion made the best of the girl’s sylph-like stature, and a more becoming coiffure brought out her pretty hazel eyes. Sir Reuben Trelawny, one of the gentlemen whom Marianne had originally invited on Margaret’s behalf, was beginning to show a marked partiality for Ruth’s company.

  “How is your twin?” Vanessa asked, with a sideways glance at Margaret.

  “I have not heard directly from her. Betty is still furious at me. In fact I doubt she will ever forgive me. The prospect that she’ll never speak to me again gives me great pleasure.”

  Vanessa and Margaret exchanged looks. “But have you heard from your family?” Margaret asked.

  “Yes, Mother wrote, and Father added a few lines. Betty has been sent to stay with our Grandmother in Glasgow for six months. It is a bleak household, and I doubt that she can wheedle grandmother the way she does at home, with Mother. But my parents are hopeful that she’ll find a suitable match there. She will hardly do so in Bankington now.”

  “Was it very bad for you, after you exposed Betty’s intrigue?” Margaret asked. “I was not there, but I can imagine that it must have been uncomfortable.”

  Ruth shrugged. “Father protected me from Betty’s fury and mother’s anger. It was a little worse than usual, but I have never felt truly comfortable there.”

  “Talking of Bankington, my mother received a letter from Sir Reginald Milldale,” Margaret said. “Do you remember the burglar William caught, that had stolen Mother’s necklace?”

  “What about him?” Vanessa asked. “I felt sad for his family. His mother, Mrs. Petersbone, is a good woman. I sometimes talked with her when I was distributing alms on the Milldale estate.”

  “Then you will not be sorry to hear that Jock, her son, mysteriously escaped from prison and is thought to have fled across the Atlantic. Upon investigation it turned out he is related to both of the men who were supposed to guard him at the time, though each stoutly denies that he let Jock go. Sir Reginald was rather apologetic about this news.”

  “Having to leave the country and his large family is also a harsh punishment,” Vanessa said. “But I am glad Jock won’t be hanged.”

  Chapter 30

  Deeply impressed at how Marianne had organised a ‘small, private’ ceremony at short notice, William was understandably nervous about his own wedding. It was to take place at Amberley on Christmas Day.

  His uncle, Sir Maximilian Trey, and his sister Sarah with her husband and three children were among the guests who arrived a week ahead of the date, and had immediately been embraced by the huge Ellsworthy clan.

  “You have done very well for yourself,” his sister Sarah said to William during one of their rare private moments during those hectic days. “Margaret is beautiful and well-connected, and I like her family. How pleasant that her step-father, Mr. Langley, will celebrate the wedding. I don’t think we ever had clergy in our family before.”

  “Neither did Margaret, until recently,” William said. “She has known Mr. Langley as the local Vicar through her childhood, but we were all surprised when he and Mrs. Bellairs decided to make a match of it. They seem very happy together.”

  “As I hope you and Margaret will be. Your Margaret is rather high-spirited, and has strong opinions,” Sarah said tentatively. “She did not hesitate to argue with you at table yesterday, only days from your wedding. It was all in good humour, I admit, but does it not bother you, that she is unwilling to defer to your judgement?”

  “What, do you always defer to Peter’s judgement? It would bother me more if she hid her own opinions, and became a pale shadow of the vibrant woman I love.”

  “When I have a disagreement with Peter, we discuss it privately, under four eyes. I would never contradict him in public. When Mother was still alive, she repeatedly told me that a wife should never show up her husband before witnesses.”

  William took a deep breath, willing himself to be patient. “I expect that we shall also discuss real disagreements in private, but Margaret and I were merely discussing the relative merits of the baroque and gothic styles, Sarah. It is no crime to have different tastes.”

  “I always agree with Peter’s taste among company.”

  “That is up to you and him, but I am not going to constrict Margaret like that. She is very clever and deserves to have her say, whether in private or in public.” He could have added that the large wedding party at Amberley was predominantly family and not truly ‘public’, but it seemed more important to establish the principle of the thing. “A wife who has her own ideas and is willing to express them is never going to be boring or predictable.”

  She pursed her lips. “You are in love now. I hope you still feel like that in ten years’ time.”

  William shook his head at such pessimism. Sarah probably feared he would be hen-pecked, but then she was too reserved herself to understand Margaret’s impetuous spirit. He could not imagine wanting Margaret to be silenced. In any battle between conventional expectations and his wife, he would be ranged on Margaret’s side.

  “And that big ugly mongrel she has following her around like a lapdog,” Sarah said, “does that not bother you? It seems a trifle eccentric.”

  “Not at all. I gave Berry to Margaret myself. Haven’t you heard the expression, love me, love my dog?”

  “So you love her dog as well? She is a very lucky woman,” Sarah said. “I shall try to do so too, for your sake, dog and all.”

  “Thank you, Sarah.” She would come around once she knew Margaret better and saw how happy she made William. His uncle, to William’s quiet satisfaction, was already well on the way of becoming Margaret’s warm admirer. Peter, his brother-in-law, did not seem to hold Margaret’s outspokenness against her, and had warmly congratulated William on winning such a prize.

  And though the wedding was still some days ahead, William already was happy – very happy indeed.

  ***

  The next few days went by in a blur of arrivals, preparations, felicitations, and good advice. Christmas day arrived at last, and Margaret stood at William’s side in a resplendent gown that put all other brides he had seen in his whole life in the deepest shade. Of course, it might not be the gown as much as its wearer, the woman who had stolen his heart.

  Knowing and trusting his bride, he had not feared that she would change her mind, but it still was a relief and joy when Margaret appeared on the arm of Lord Pell, followed by a phalanx of elegant bridesmaids. The smallest of them was Lady Amy, charming everyone with her chestnut ringlets and tiny button nose.

/>   The celebrations went as smoothly as was to be expected when Lady Amberley was pulling the strings. William had developed a warm admiration and liking for the Countess. She never raised her voice, but in her own way she was formidable.

  The bride’s mother, Mrs. Langley, shed tears of happiness. At least William preferred to think of them as such, and not that she might still be mourning the splendid matches and titles Margaret was foregoing by pledging her troth to his.

  ***

  Despite all the toasts and food and good advice, William found time to count the hours until he finally had his bride to himself, for the long-anticipated wedding night.

  “Come with me, Mrs. Trey,” he commanded after yet another toast had been drunk to the happy couple. She put her hand on his without hesitation. “At last,” she murmured. “I shall always remember the wedding, and tell our children all about it, but I am curious to see what comes next.”

  He could not reply until half an hour later, when they had finally extricated themselves from the crush of family members, and retired to their suite. William carefully locked the door.

  “What comes next, eh? Does that mean you are not nervous and afraid, dearest?”

  She smiled confidently. “You know me better than that.”

  “Whatever happens tonight, I hope you will remember it fondly, as part of the wedding, but not tell the details to our children.”

  “No. This is only between you and me.” Margaret boldly raised her hand to his neck and tugged on his elaborately tied neck cloth.

  William took her hand and pressed a kiss into her palm. “Impatient as ever, darling. Will you allow me to lead this time?”

  She nodded, a little shy after all, he noted with mingled tenderness and amusement. During their engagement he had frequently imagined what he would do first, every single step of Margaret’s introduction to the sensual delights of the marriage bed. But his elaborate plans were forgotten; all that remained was the incredible present, with Margaret his, so lovely and unique. He was the most fortunate fellow in the world, to have won the love of such a paragon.

  A naughty paragon, from the way she looked at him under her lashes and let her palms roam over his chest and stomach. He took firm command of the proceedings – this first time, it would be best, but he looked forward to other nights when he allowed her to take the lead, once she had discovered exactly what she liked.

  It turned out that she liked everything he tried, and was as quick to find rhythm and cadence here, as when she made music. Indeed, her body was the most perfect instrument imaginable, and he only wished he were half the virtuoso she was. Already she eagerly learned how to play with his body, his reactions … she would be the death of him, but what a way to go…

  They thoroughly exhausted each other, slept two or three hours and resumed their vigorous new pastime early in the morning. Eventually they needed rest again.

  “I had no idea it would be like this,” Margaret said with a small sigh. “If I had known, I would never have been able to wait until the wedding.”

  “Now you have a slight inkling how hard the waiting was for me.” Getting up could wait until he was less out of breath. “But it depends on the partner, you know. Whatever experience I may have gathered – mostly during my time in India – could not in any way compare to the happiness of making love to my own beloved wife.”

  “Emily told me the same, that the pleasure of love-making was greatly enhanced by warm feelings for one’s partner.”

  “What, did she not warn you to close your eyes and just endure? That seems to be the prevalent advice for young brides, I understand.”

  “Women who believe that must miss out on the best part of marriage.” Margaret stretched her slim body languorously. The movement made her beautiful round breasts stand up straighter.

  “The best part? Thank you for the vote of confidence, but living with you, having your company and support for all the years we shall be together is just as wonderful in its way. I can still hardly believe my luck.”

  “You owe it to my good sense,” she declared. “My ability to know a good man and husband when I meet one. Don’t ever forget that.”

  “No, Ma’am.” He bowed from the waist in mock obedience. She was not fooled, and threw a small pillow at his broad chest. William caught it in the air and eyed her speculatively.

  “You can throw it back, I will not break,” Margaret said. “Sometimes you look at me as though I were fragile and breakable. Perish the thought. I am up for vigorous games and exercise, as I believe I have already demonstrated.”

  William recalled a number of positions and experiments from his travels in India. If she meant it, there would be time enough to play and enjoy and experiment. Years and years of happy intimacy… if she wanted to be playful in bed, he could certainly oblige her.

  “Is that so?” He threw the pillow aside and growled like a hungry beast. Margaret pretended to flee across the large featherbed in pretended panic, only to break into uncontrollable giggles when he caught her from behind after a dramatic lunge.

  “Dread Wolf, do not eat me! I will do anything!”

  “Anything? Let me think.”

  It turned out that fulfilling his demands was no great sacrifice for Margaret. Eyes sparkling, she then declared that turnaround was fair play. William could hardly deny it. Their wedding morning was the oddest and most exhilarating experience William had had in years – or ever, since nothing could compare to having Margaret in his bed, in his life.

  “So this is how babies are made,” Margaret said when they finally dressed to face the world as a married couple.

  “If it were not so pleasurable, humanity might be less numerous,” he said. “The idea of your belly swelling with my child fills me with delight and dread. I rather hope it will take a year or two of trying until we face that challenge.”

  “You underestimate your wife,” Margaret said. “Whatever I undertake, I do well, and in a timely manner. Have you not yet realised that?”

  “Of course I have. And only imagine what perfection must result of a mingling of you and me, of a joint effort! The world may not be ready for such progeny.”

  “The world will have to bear it somehow.” Margaret smiled. “In the meantime I am going to enjoy myself, and you, every opportunity I get.”

  “I did not overtax you with my attentions? A new bride and virgin should expect more delicate treatment, but you drove all good intentions out of my head.”

  “Good. Delicacy is not what I want from you, William. I like that you are so big and strong and manly. Whenever I look at you, even in company, it gives me small thrill.”

  “Only a small one? That is nothing to the pride I feel with you at my side, darling.”

  “We are both wonderful, in other words,” Margaret concluded. “Perfectly suited to each other.”

  “At last you see it.”

  She must have done, for she came and stopped his mouth with a kiss. “Good morning, husband. I love you.”

  He could not speak for a moment, and contented himself with kissing her back passionately.

  A good way to start on the rest of their lives.

  The End

  A Note for Readers

  If you enjoyed these books, please encourage the author to continue the Amberley Chronicles with a brief review on your local Amazon website.

  The next volumes, A Scandalous Journey and The Late Heiress, jump one generation ahead to the early years of Queen Victoria’s reign. Future instalments should become available at roughly bimonthly intervals. Amazon will send you a note about new instalments if you tick the “follow” button on May’s author page.

  May Burnett is also the author of a Regency Trilogy about the aristocratic Winthrop family (the first two are somewhat darker than the Amberley Chronicles). Lady Susan’s Bargain was followed by Lord Fenton’s Revenge and A Lady’s Ruse. The trilogy is also available as a box set.

  A standalone novel, A Priceless Gift, takes place earli
er than the other books, at the very beginning of the Regency.

  Happy reading!

  Contents

  Catching a Rook

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Epilogue

  Lady Anthea’s Choice

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  The Perils of Lord Pell

  Chapter 1

 

‹ Prev