Claiming His Bride

by Marie Medina

  “Thank you.” He took the flowers. “I’m sure she’ll love the surprise.”

  As he made his way up the stairs, his eyes fell on the card. The outside of the envelope read To my heart.

  Bastian paused at the top of the stairs and set the roses down. He couldn’t imagine her father writing that. The envelope was not sealed, so he opened it, his curiosity overriding his manners.

  I will never forget you. William.

  “Who the devil is William, and why is he thinking of my wife enough to declare he shall never forget her?” His incredulity only increased as he reread the card. “And what sort of idiot would have these delivered to the honeymoon suite?” It had to be some sort of mistake.

  As he glared at the roses, the truth came to him. She had been such a cheerless bride because she loved someone else. She’d probably been waiting for her sister to marry so her own lover could make a public declaration and put his suit to her father. She had been a virgin, that could not be denied, but he didn’t give a damn about the state of her hymen; he cared about the state of her heart. She’d certainly enjoyed the give and take of pleasure in bed, but a willing bed partner was not the same as a loving wife. And if her heart would always belong to another, what chance did he have of winning her love one day?

  He crumpled the card and tossed it in an ashtray. He almost disposed of the roses, but then he thought better of it. Someone might notice or ask about them, and he didn’t want any gossip spreading. There had been enough of that when the change of bride had come to light. Also, her reaction might tell him if this man still held her heart. When he’d only been thinking of eventually winning her true affection, he’d felt quite easy about his chances. But how would he fare if he had to banish another from her heart first?

  ****

  Victoria woke to a sweet scent. She rolled over and blinked, wondering why the bed felt so cold, but then she saw Bastian wasn’t beside her.

  “Bastian?”

  “I’m here.”

  His voice startled her a bit. He stood by the window looking out over the street. When he turned to her, his dark eyes traveled over her body. Despite the hours they’d spent tangled in each other’s arms, she suddenly felt shy.

  “Good morning,” she said.

  He walked over to her slowly. Why didn’t he smile? Had she done something wrong? Surely he wouldn’t mind her oversleeping after last night. Did he regret something he had done or said? Then she saw the roses by the bed.

  “Oh, Bastian, my favorite! How did you know? Who told you?” She tucked the sheet around her body and moved closer to touch them. “How beautiful! I love them.”

  He sat on the bed beside her, his hand in his jacket pocket. “Lucky guess, my dear. Are pink roses truly your favorite?”

  “Oh yes. When we were little, father would bring Isabella and me pink roses when he came home from long trips. I’ve adored them ever since.” She turned back to him. He had finally smiled, but something did not ring true with her. Why did his eyes look sad? Was he tired? “Did you sleep well?”

  “I slept quite well, thank you.” He studied her face a long moment. “Did you?”

  She nodded. “I was exhausted. I slept very deeply.”

  His eyes warmed briefly, as if he were remembering the part he had played in exhausting her, but then he seemed to draw back. He finally took his hand from his pocket, producing a small black box. “I meant to give this to you last night, but I forgot.”

  She accepted the box and opened it. She gasped when she saw the delicate amber pendant inside. “I adore it.” She lifted it on its chain and put it on immediately, admiring it against her skin. She leaned forward and kissed him. “Thank you.”

  His eyes focused on it, and he traced his finger over the skin around the pendant. Her breathing grew shallow when he touched her. He toyed with a curl that had fallen over her shoulder. “I thought it would look nice with your hair.” His fingers moved upwards, finally resting under her chin. He tipped her face up to look at her. “I’ve been thinking. I have a house in the country. How would you like to live there? We could still come to London, but I’d like to get away from everyone else.” He ran his thumb over her lower lip. “Have you all to myself.”

  Why was he so serious? Had she not been happy enough about his present? Though his gesture and the implication of his words were seductive, she still felt uneasy, as if she had done something wrong. “I don’t know. Everyone I love is here.”

  His hand dropped from her face.

  “But I’m easy to please! You’ll learn that soon enough. I want to live wherever suits you best.”

  Another sad smile. “I was asking your wishes, Victoria. Think about it.” He rose and kissed the top of her head. “I wouldn’t blame you for not wanting to be imprisoned in the country with me.” He walked to the bathroom and shut the door.

  She caressed the amber pendant, confused. The long-faced man who had just walked away from her couldn’t possibly be the same man who had made love to her all night. The man who had moments earlier smiled vaguely at her reactions to his gifts bore no resemblance at all to the man who had teased her repeatedly the day before.

  She had no idea how she had disappointed him, how she had made a wrong move, but she was determined to rectify the situation. She’d been in the shadows long enough. She intended to walk out in the sun now and fully grasp the happiness that had been dangled in front of her so blatantly the day before.

  ****

  Despite the uncertainty looming over him, Bastian couldn’t help feeling happy as he watched Victoria kneeling on the ground playing with the Labrador retriever puppies. He still didn’t exactly understand why Victoria had insisted, the very moment he emerged from the bathroom, that they come to his country house to tour it. He’d told her it would need to be opened up and aired, as only a groundskeeper was presently in residence, but she’d insisted she didn’t care. She wanted to see her new home and insisted she would prefer taking a honeymoon trip in early autumn. He’d sent the London servants along, and they had assured him everything would be habitable by dinner. He hadn’t meant to pressure her with his question, though he had in fact been testing her. William, whoever the devil he was, had to live in London as Victoria’s family had been forced to rent their home in the country the year before. He’d been trying to see if leaving London would distress her. She’d said that everyone she loved was there, but of course he had no way of knowing what that meant without asking outright.

  “You like dogs, I see.” He knelt beside her, noticing that she didn’t seem to care about the grass and dirt the puppies were depositing all over her skirt.

  “I love animals. Are these for hunting?”

  He nodded. “My father hunts. I go along for the exercise, but I have little interest in shooting anything, and my father is a very poor shot, so we always come back with nothing. Father doesn’t mind though. He plays it off well, insisting he is leaving all the game for the guests.”

  She laughed. “Does anyone believe him?”

  “They pretend to.” He leaned forward to pet one of the pups. “These will be sent to my father when they’re a little older. Would you like to keep one?”

  “Are you determined to spoil me?” she teased.

  “Yes. I want to make you happy.”

  Her smile faded. “I don’t need presents to be happy.” She set the puppy in her lap aside. “I’m sorry if anything I said or did yesterday made me seem ungrateful. I suppose I always imagined being asked to go to the altar, not being told to. It’s silly.”

  He took her hand, running his thumb over her wedding rings, unable to look at her. “It’s not silly to want to love the person you marry.”

  “My father would say it is.”

  His head shot up, and she drew back. He hadn’t meant to startle her, but the question was literally on the tip of his tongue. Had she had a reason to actually discuss the subject with her father? Had she loved this William but been unable to win her father’s a
pproval? He had to hold his curiosity back. Pulling her into his arms, he kissed her, knowing no other way to stop the words from springing forth. His lips met hers more roughly than he had intended, and she made a protesting sound. He softened the embrace, and then she opened and sighed. Was this the kiss of a woman who loved another? It couldn’t be, he told himself, yet he could not banish the doubts in his mind. Perhaps she only submitted out of a sense of duty and propriety.

  They were both breathless when they parted, and he held her there, an inch away from another kiss.

  “Bastian?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed again.”

  The tremor in her voice made him wish they were completely alone. He tried to rein himself in, knowing servants were bustling everywhere. “Good. I want to overwhelm you, occupy your every thought, fully possess you.”

  Her quick intake of breath told him his words didn’t displease her, yet her eyes widened at his statement. He’d been told before that he was too possessive, even been rejected because of it, but those affairs hadn’t mattered. He’d been thoroughly enjoying all of Victoria’s reactions to his domineering behavior. Until he saw that damned card.

  “I’m your wife. I suppose I am a possession.” She tried to pull away.

  He held her fast and looked into her eyes. “Stop thinking that way. I told you last night that you aren’t a piece of chattel. I am speaking of a very different kind of possession,” he kissed her lower lip, “and you know it.”

  When she pulled back this time, he let her go. Her breasts heaved, and a lovely pink spread over her cheeks. If only he knew what she was thinking.

  ****

  Victoria struggled to catch her breath. While she’d been surprised to find that her new husband wasn’t going to resent her or ignore her, that feeling didn’t compare with the bafflement before her now. Was he always going to run hot and cold like this? One minute sad and distracted, the next passionate and possessive? She knew little of men, but this kind of behavior seemed questionable in anyone. Why had that comment about her father’s beliefs inspired him to kiss her? Had he even been listening to her? She smoothed her skirt, wondering if his passions would always rule him in this way. “Could we walk through the garden? It looks lovely.”

  Bastian stood right away and extended his hand to her. “We can do whatever you wish.”

  I wish you’d smile and laugh and tease me the way you did yesterday. He wasn’t being unpleasant, not at all, but she felt as if something were troubling him. He had certain social duties as an Earl’s son, being a Viscount himself, but she doubted he would ever tell her if they were causing him stress or anxiety. He would say she shouldn’t worry about such things, just as her father always had. Bastian had said he had his own fortune and financial independence, and since nothing around her told her otherwise, she believed him. But what else could be so important as to have him this distracted today when he had been so attentive the day before?

  He took her arm as they walked. “The hot house has roses. I can have the gardener put pink ones in, if you like. I can’t recall what varieties we have right now.”

  “That would be lovely, but don’t go to any trouble. Everything is so beautiful already.”

  He lifted her hand and kissed it. “It won’t be any trouble. Don’t ever hesitate to ask for anything you desire.”

  “Will you answer a question?”

  “Of course.”

  “Did you really guess pink roses were my favorite? You didn’t ask anyone?”

  His lips formed a tight line. “I didn’t ask anyone, I promise.” He studied her face. “Was it so great a secret?” he asked softly.

  His tone confused her a little. She shook her head. “No, not really. Everyone at home knew.” Swallowing, she added, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply you hadn’t been truthful this morning. I was just so surprised. You’ve been so generous. I shouldn’t have asked.”

  He stopped and sighed. “Don’t apologize, Victoria.” He paused, raising her hand to his lips again. “I keep making you think you’ve done something wrong. I’ll have to learn to control my oscillating moods. I’m not used to having someone actually pay attention to the things I say.”

  She felt a little relieved at these words. Perhaps nothing was wrong at all. “I know how that feels. I shouldn’t be so sensitive. We’re growing accustomed to one another.”

  A hint of a smile appeared on his face as they resumed walking. “So you aren’t going to run away or sit moping in your parlor because you’ve been forced into a fate worse than death?”

  She laughed, glad to hear the teasing tone return to his voice. “No. You are stuck with me.”

  ****

  And you are stuck with me. Bastian began to wonder again. Victoria seemed genuinely content, except when his moody comments confused her. He had to stop fishing for information. If this William were truly a problem, surely he would be able to find out some other way. He would try not to distress her again. Winning her heart would not be any easier if she never knew where she stood with him.

  “That is not the verb I would use,” he said, “but I’m still glad to hear it. I think we’ll grow accustomed to one another quickly.”

  “I think so, too. I’m not used to such a large house anymore. Learning to run it will take time.”

  “I’d prefer you didn’t have to worry about it at all.” He hesitated, not wanting her to think he meant he didn’t believe her capable. “Unless you want to.”

  This time she hesitated. “I grew used to handling some things for father. He tended to forget, and mother left everything to him, but I think I ought to learn. Especially given your social status.”

  He smiled. “Looking forward to being an Earl’s wife one day, my dear Viscountess?”

  “Up to accepting the challenge, I think.” She smiled back at him. “I shall have to get used to the title. My father being a mere Baron, I’ve grown used to being an ‘honorable’ little miss,” she added with a giggle.

  She definitely seemed to like it when he teased her. He noted how much more at ease she was now than she had been moments earlier. Once again, he wished they were alone. Night couldn’t come soon enough, as there were many other ways that he wished to tease her, none of which could be done in the garden.

  Chapter Three

  “How in blazes did he find us so quickly?” Bastian hissed under his breath. He stared at the brown paper package on his desk. At least one of the servants had seen it, so he couldn’t risk not giving it to Victoria. Did he have any right to keep it from her in the first place? As her husband, he believed he did. No other man, aside from a relative, had any business sending his wife presents. Feeling very little guilt, he tore open the note, which was once again addressed To my heart. A plainly dressed man in an unmarked coach had delivered it ten minutes ago.

  I wish I had arrived in time. Think of me when you wear these, my love.

  He’d sent her something to wear? Well, she would not be thinking of him because Bastian had no intention of letting her know who’d sent whatever it was. He wanted to throw the package in the fireplace and burn it, but instead he simply burned the note, scattering the ashes thoroughly. It was dishonest, but he would not deliver his wife a love note from another man.

  He went upstairs to find her in what was now their bedroom. She stood looking at her dresses.

  “What should I wear to dinner, Bastian? Do you dress for dinner when you’re here? It will take some time for us to unpack.”

  “I usually eat in my study. What you have on is fine, Victoria. My servants are used to me and my ways. We’ll only be formal when we have guests.” He extended the package to her, holding back a sigh. “This came for you. The note seems to have fallen off since it arrived. I’ll have the servants look for it.”

  She took the box and turned it over in her hands, then untied the string and peeled away the brown paper. Inside the box lay dozens of multi-colored ribbons. She raised her e
yebrows. “An odd present for a married woman. I haven’t worn hair ribbons in years.” She pushed the ribbons around. “There’s no note inside either. But there was one on the outside?”

  “Yes, Agatha said there was, but when I went to my study to retrieve it, I didn’t see one.”

  Victoria looked puzzled, and that pleased him. William’s gift did not appear to be a success at all. Hair ribbons did seem an odd gift for a grown woman.

  “I hope they find it. I should send a thank you note.”

  His anger had faded now because of her reaction. He moved around to stand behind her, slipping his arms around her waist. “Perhaps they’re from someone who hasn’t seen you in years, someone who doesn’t realize what a beautiful woman you’ve become.” He kissed her neck, loving the giggle his touch elicited. He took the box from her hand and set it aside, anxious to put William out of his mind. His resolve not to fish for information was weakening. “You made a very beautiful bride, even if your wedding day was not precisely what you’d always dreamed of.”

  She shrugged, looking quite embarrassed. “I didn’t dream of it the way most girls do. Honestly, I always imagined my sister would make a match for me. I assumed that, once she was married, she would want me married as well.”

  “And you’d have let her do that?” He wanted to laugh at the very idea, but she seemed quite serious.

  “I wouldn’t have accepted a proposal just because she was for the match, but I didn’t expect to receive any offers on my own.”

  He frowned, both because her self-deprecating assumption displeased him and because it confused him. “You didn’t have any admirers of your own?”

  “No.”

  “They must have been waiting for your sister to get married, for propriety’s sake.”

  She shrugged again. “I doubt it.” Turning in his arms, she gave him a puzzled look. “You say you married me with no protest, yet you certainly weren’t an admirer.”

  He couldn’t argue with her, as it was absolutely true, yet he wanted to. He felt a sudden wave of shame. “And it was foolish of me. But I will freely admit I never planned on marrying, which is why my father was so keen on this scheme. Being an only child, especially an only son, in a family with money, property, and a title to be handed down, is not the grand, self-indulgent existence most envision.”