by Cari Hislop
It took longer than she’d hoped to settle her son in the noisy overcrowded nursery. On trembling legs, she rushed back downstairs past inquisitive new relatives and bobbing servants. Stepping quietly into Geoffrey’s bedchamber she turned the key and left it in the lock. The bed was empty, but she could see the edge of a tea cup on the arm of the chair in front of the fire. Feeling nervous, her hands were shaking as she changed in her husband’s adjoining closet. Each fumbled attempt to untie a stubborn ribbon made her stop and listen for soft padding footsteps, but there was only peaceful quiet. At last freed from dusty black and dressed in a white short-sleeved nightgown she unpinned her hair and combed it through till it fell free to her waist. Taking a deep breath she picked up the silver box containing the ruby necklace and tiptoed past the bed still smooth and empty over to the fire. Peering around the edge of the Queen Anne wing armchair she found her manuscript lying open in a sea of pale blue velvet that washed up at naked feet resting on a footstool. His eyes were closed, his lips slack. Her husband was fast asleep. She gently removed the cup from his fingers and the manuscript from his lap and set them safely on the mantel. Her beloved friend looked more dead than alive with lavender rings around his eyes and pain etched into his pale forehead. A strange sharp pain punctured her heart. How much time would she have with him? She felt an urgent need to cherish every minute of her new life.
“Geoffrey! You’re falling asleep in the chair. Come to bed…”
His eyes slowly opened. “Angel? I was waiting for you in the garden, but I’d much rather be here with my duchess. You look…” He sighed with pleasure as if she were some great beauty. “…lovely!”
Tolerance laughed as her cheeks burned from the well known heated gaze. “I love it when you look at me like that.”
“I’d be heartbroken Madam if you didn’t. My empty knee awaits an angel.” He smiled as his bride shyly perched on the transient seat. “This feels better than I imagined. Ah, she shivers at my touch. I must be in heaven.” The new Duchess giggled as a warm hand slid around her middle and pulled her closer.
“Geoffrey?”
“Yes Wife?”
She pulled the jewellery case out of the folds of her gown and opened it. “I want to wear it for you. Would you help me put it on?”
Geoffrey stared in disgust at the blood red stones sparkling in the firelight between aquamarine accents. “I don’t want you to wear my sins. I’ll buy you some innocent diamonds or sapphires.”
“No!” She clutched them tightly to her chest. “I love them. They’re little pieces of your heart.”
“Keep the cursed stones if they make you happy. I could hardly deny you my heart.”
The new Duchess of Lyndhurst forgot her necklace and caressed the long masculine fingers resting on her leg, “I love your hands.”
“And the rest of my person?”
She reached out and affectionately tweaked his earlobe. “I hope all our children look like you.”
“Have you a cruel streak Wife? Look at me. How could you curse innocent infants with this face?”
“Because it’s my favourite.”
He pursed his lips in disbelief. “You’ve let your harp gather dust for this face? You must be an angel.”
“Hardly, I make mistakes like everyone else.”
“True, like not marrying me months ago. A wicked sin punishable by at least a thousand kisses.”
He pulled her closer against pale blue velvet and smiled as she leaned over and thwarted his puckered lips by kissing his cheek and laughing in his ear. “Am I really your wife? Tell me you’re not a lovely dream.”
“Turn around Mrs Grayson and let your husband fondle your throat.” The clasp finally mastered, Tolerance turned back to face her Lord with tears in her eyes and a fortune in rubies around her neck. Pale blue eyes filled with fear as velvet arms encircled her waist and pulled her close. “What’s wrong Angel? You’re not missing the other Geoffrey?”
“I love you.”
He smiled in relief. “I love you more.”
“In your dreams!”
Geoffrey’s come hither smile lured his wife’s arms around his neck and brought her lips close enough to kiss. “May my hands have permission to admire your person my Lady?” Her eyes went wide with worry. “I’m your knight in pale blue velvet, not some other idiot rake-hell. You’re perfectly safe. If you find my admiration uncomfortable I’ll stop. Tell me which part of you my hands may admire and I’ll be satisfied if only out of fear you might annul my happiness.”
“You may admire my hip.”
“That should do for now…ah, you’re blushing. That brings back pleasant memories. Remember the time I was chasing you around the garden for a kiss and I caught hold of your dress and we both fell head first into the flower bed? You had dirt on your face and on your bosom.”
“And you tried to be a kind helpful rake-hell by brushing it away.”
“Hmmm…your face turned as red as the flowers we crushed. You looked like an earth goddess with dirt up your nose.”
“If you don’t put your hand on my hip and kiss me I’ll make you chase me though the house. What will your relations think after you slip on a rug and land face first into one of the many used chamber pots lining your halls like fly traps?”
“They’ll think I’m an ugly smelly devil.”
“Then you’d better kiss me.”
***
Geoffrey sighed with contentment as he admired the sight of small feminine feet resting against his leg on the footstool. He couldn’t remember any debauchery that compared to the ecstasy of holding the woman who loved him. After tucking her hands deep inside his robe, one minute she was laughing and the next she’d fallen asleep with her face pressed against his neck. He lightly kissed her forehead and closed his eyes just for a moment as he imagined waking to find his naked wife lying in his arms.
The dying fire cast deep shadows over the empty bed as the lovers laughed in between eternal kisses far away in a dream garden.
