The Suitable Bride (The Emberton Brothers Series Book 2)

by Aminadra, Karen

  Before he realised what he was doing, he claimed her mouth with his. Part of him wanted to laugh at the taste of tea and butter upon her lips, but more urgently he felt the desire to kiss her more deeply. With more haste than grace, the couple stood up and stumbled their way to the bed, all the time hungrily kissing each other. Edward knew then it did not matter whether he was aware of the wedding night practice or not. He instinctively knew what to do and how to do it. He enfolded Frances in his arms, savouring the sound of the whimper that escaped her lips, and scooped her up, holding her to his chest. Gently, he laid her down onto the bed, leaning over her, admiring her beauty one last time before his mouth came crashing down upon hers again.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Sunlight peeked through the curtains as Frances stretched languidly upon the bed. She turned over and discovered Edward was gone. Sitting up alarmed, she called out his name. “Edward?” She surmised he could not have gone far, that he would not have gone far the day after their wedding, but all the same, she did not like waking up alone. “Edward? Where are you?” she called out again.

  Wrapping the sheet around her, she climbed out of bed and went in search of her husband. The wonderful rich fibres of the Chinese rug felt good between her toes as she wandered through to their private sitting room. Edward was not in there either. She frowned to herself and was considering whether she should ring the bell to be dressed when Edward himself appeared at the door, making a loud clatter. Frances laughed at the sight before her.

  Edward attempted to enter the room carrying a full tray of breakfast things—a teapot, two cups and saucers, a rack of toast, a small jug of milk, a butter dish, knives, side plates, and teaspoons. As he opened the door, he almost lost his battle with juggling the contents on the tray in his hands.

  “Here, let me help you!” Frances called out as she scuttled across the room, still wrapped in the sheet, to take the tray from him.

  Edward took one look at her and said, “I think it might be better for you to take charge of the door, to not risk uncovering yourself.” He grinned at her teasingly.

  She chuckled at his comment and did as he bid. As soon as he was in the room, she closed the door firmly behind him and watched as he placed the breakfast things upon the table in the centre of the room.

  “I had hoped to serve you breakfast in bed.” Edward turned and looked at her with the cheekiest grin she had ever seen on his face. “But somebody got up before I could surprise her.” He stepped forwards and reached out to embrace her. “And in her hurry to find me,” his manner teasing, “because she cannot possibly live without me, she did not even find time to get dressed.” Frances laughed and stepped back from his embrace as Edward reached out and tugged at the sheet she had wrapped around her. “I wonder what would happen if I did this?” he asked as he tugged a little harder at her covering.

  “No!” Frances cried out as she sniggered.

  “What?” Edward feigned surprise. “Are you hiding something from me?”

  “No, I am not,” she replied as she continued to step backwards towards the bedroom.

  “Then let me see!” he cried out, startling her as he ran after her and chased into the bedroom.

  Between laughing and screaming, the sheet slipped from Frances’ slender frame. She looked up at Edward with feigned dismay written across her face, enjoying the game as much as he was. “Now look what you’ve done!” she accused.

  “What I did?” He eyed her slowly up and down from her feet all the way up to her hair, taking in the luscious spectacle before him. “I was nowhere near you, Frances. How could I possibly have done that?” Edward attempted to replace his lascivious look with an innocent one.

  Frances shrugged. “Well, it is your fault,” she pouted. “I wouldn’t have dropped the sheet had you not been chasing me.” She cocked her head and looked at him coquettishly.

  “Well, what can I say?” Edward responded throatily. He stepped towards her and Frances welcomed him into her arms. “If whatever you’re wearing falls off every time I chase you,” he said as he delicately kissed the soft skin on the side of her neck, “then, my dear,” he chuckled again, “I shall have to chase you more often.” He pulled away and gazed into her eyes. Frances felt her love for him growing with every gesture and comment. “Shall I not?”

  She tittered at the thought and leant forward to kiss him. She loved the smell of his skin, a combination of soap and musky cologne. She nuzzled her face against the stubble on his cheek that had grown up overnight and whimpered at the sensation. Gently, she stepped back and looked at him quizzically.

  “What is it, my love?” he asked, desire clearly etched on his face.

  “I was just wondering,” she said wantonly tracing the contours of his torso with her forefinger.

  A moan escaped his lips as he tried to speak. “What?”

  She raised her eyes and gazed upon him flirtatiously. “I was wondering…” she watched as Edward tilted his head back and gasped at the feel of her fingertips as they traced their way down his body “…if I were to chase you, if your clothes would fall off too.”

  Edwards head snapped forward, his eyes opened wide. “Oh, you deliciously perfect tease!” He took hold of her more roughly than he had the night before, swept her off her feet, and carried her back to the bed. The breakfast things sitting in the other room were left to go cold.

  * * * *

  “I have an idea,” Frances grinned at Edward across the table one evening during dinner.

  Edward creased his brow quizzically at Frances as he slowly chewed a delicious piece of roasted lamb.

  “How about we throw a dinner party?” She looked at him triumphantly as though that was all she needed to say.

  Edward’s questioning visage remained as he swallowed the piece of succulent meat. “I’m sorry, my dear. I do not understand what you mean.”

  Frances giggled. Edward loved to hear that sound. “You don’t know what a dinner party is?” She raised her eyebrows so high that it made him laugh.

  He reached out for his glass of white German wine and, after taking a mouthful to clear his palate, replied, “Of course I do. I merely meant, why would we wish to throw a dinner party?”

  “Well,” Frances carefully placed her knife and fork against the sides of her plate, and leant enthusiastically towards him, “I thought it would be a nice gesture to invite your colleagues and some of my father’s contacts to dinner. Surely it would help your cause gain momentum.” She looked satisfied with herself as she smiled benignly at him.

  “Hmm…that is a good idea, my love.” Edward speared a roasted potato with his fork, sliced it in half and popped it into his mouth. He thought on the idea as he chewed, all the while aware that Frances watched his every move, hoping her suggestion would be acceptable to him. He swallowed the now well-chewed potato and asked, “Would your father be amenable to such a soirée?”

  She looked at him incredulously and shrugged. “Why would he not? Did he not say he is in full support of your cause?”

  Edward nodded emphatically, “Yes, he did. He is interested in everything that goes in the meetings I go to and requires a full report. Surely it would be better for him to hear it directly from my peers.”

  “That is my notion precisely, Edward!” she replied, scooting her chair closer to the table. “You can leave all the arrangements to me. It will be so exciting—our first dinner party!”

  He chuckled at her enthusiasm. She really was taking to being his wife like a duck to water. He was pleased with the transformation. She was turning out to be a wonderful wife, a lover beyond his wildest expectations, and now she wanted to take on the role of hostess with such vigour and fervour that he could not help but be proud of her.

  “Very well. If you think you can handle all of the arrangements yourself, then by all means do so. Is there anything you would like me to do?”

  Frances pursed her lips in thought, then took a deep breath and replied, “Yes, there it is.” She looked
at him with a twinkle in her eye. “You can supply me with a list of all your most important colleagues, peers, contacts, and acquaintances. And then leave the rest to me.” She smiled elatedly.

  “Very well then,” Edward said decisively. “I will furnish you with as long a list as I can manage by this time tomorrow. Is that soon enough?”

  She rewarded him with one of her most brilliant smiles. “That will do just perfectly.”

  * * * *

  The following morning, Frances set about making the arrangements for the dinner party. The first order of business was to consult with the cook, Mrs Hopwood, as to what food could be got and at what cost. Dinner would begin with soup, and of course they must have fish. For the main course, Frances wanted to provide meat and game of varying sorts. The more diverse the dishes she could provide at the dinner party, the happier, she hoped, the guests would be.

  Mrs Hopwood’s famous white soup was the only choice. It was served the first time Frances came to dinner at Sandon Place, and she simply loved it. Frances knew her guests would thoroughly enjoy it. Next Mrs Hopwood suggested stewed beef steaks, bombarded veal, and roasted venison, which Frances agreed to as her mouth began to water at the thought. Roasted pork was added to the menu, along with mashed potatoes and assorted boiled vegetables, pippins in rice and syllabub for dessert, and as a special treat, white caudle to drink and restore her guests after such a grand feast.

  Frances left the menu in the safe and capable hands of Mrs Hopwood and went in search of Stainton. She needed to discuss wine, port, sherry, and other hard liquors that she ought to serve, and he was the man to ask. She discovered Stainton, although very quiet and austere-looking, was indeed a very kind, soft-spoken man. He was full of advice and suggestions for Frances, which she took with grace and allowed him to compile the wine list himself.

  Satisfied that everything was in order, all Frances had to do was to wait for the guest list from Edward. She would then order the invitations to be printed and sent out by the Royal Mail. She was so excited that she almost skipped into Edward’s study to see if he was there.

  She found her husband at his desk reading through, what seemed to her, a mountain of papers. She did not wish to disturb him, so she crept inside and quietly sat down upon his favourite stuffed leather chair before the fireplace.

  It was some minutes before he looked up and noticed her peacefully watching him as he worked. “How long have you been here?” he chortled.

  “Just for a few minutes,” Frances replied as she languidly climbed out of the chair and made her way to stand behind her husband. She placed her hands upon his shoulders and gently made circular movements with her thumbs where his neck met his back. “What are you doing?”

  “Hmm… That feels good! I did not realise how tense I was getting reading these documents.” Edward leaned back into her hands and waved his arm dismissively across his desk. “These are the reports that have been drawn up regarding the registration of existing slaves.”

  “You mean to do with that bill you and Papa are pushing in Parliament?” she asked curiously, peering over his shoulder to see what she could read.

  “Yes,” he replied physically relaxing beneath her fingertips.

  “When will you be finished?”

  “Anytime you wish me to, my dear,” he sighed.

  “Good, because I have made all sorts of arrangements for your dinner party, and I would like for you to work on that list, please.” She peered around the side of him and gave him a cheeky grin.

  “Already? You do work quickly!” He pushed his chair back and turned to face her. “And Frances,” he said as he took hold of her hands in his, “it is your party as much as it is mine. After all, you are the one doing all the work. I want you to enjoy it too.”

  “Oh, I am! I am already, I assure you.” She had not thought of it before, but she truly was delighting in making all the arrangements. There was a satisfaction that came from it that she never expected to find. “I am certain that on the night itself, I should be enjoying myself quite as much as you and every single one of our guests.” She leaned forward and kissed him gently upon the lips. She hesitated before straightening up, breathing in the scent of him.

  “Very well, but make sure you do. This is our first party as husband and wife.” He grinned with satisfaction.

  Frances giggled with glee. “I promise!” She started to move away and tugged at Edward’s hands, encouraging him to stand up and follow her. “Come along and take tea with me, and I can help you compile a list of guests.”

  Edward did not put up any resistance. His obedient “Yes, Mrs Emberton” made her laugh even more.

  “Do you think we ought to invite your mother, Richard, and Grace?”

  All of a sudden, the mood changed. Frances felt tension descend over the light-hearted, happy scene. Edward dropped her hand and avoided her eyes.

  “What is it, Edward? Whatever is wrong?” She could see the worry written on his face.

  “Your father will be there,” he said, as though that were sufficient explanation.

  “Of course he will be there!” She laughed nervously. “But what does that signify?”

  Edward breathed out heavily and his shoulders drooped as he did so. “Your father…” He uncomfortably rubbed the back of his neck, evidently wondering how to explain it to her, “he and my mother, they…”

  “Don’t exactly see eye to eye,” Frances finished the sentence for him.

  Edward snapped his head and eyes up to look at her. “Yes, that’s it exactly.”

  “You think there may be some sort of unpleasantness between them at a dinner party?

  His silence spoke volumes.

  “Your mother would honestly behave in such a way?” Frances frowned. “I do not believe that for one moment!”

  “Who knows what my mother will do if she is riled by your father, even at a dinner party.” He stepped forward and squeezed her upper arms. “Frances, I think it would be for the best if we kept our invitees to politicians and political connections only.”

  She nodded weakly as she acknowledged that a part of her was disappointed, as she wanted to show off her hostess skills to her new mother-in-law.

  “In another month or so, we can have another dinner party,” Edward assured her. “This time we will invite only family, and hopefully by then little Richie will be old enough to come and spend time here too. We will arrange to have them stay the night.” She watched as he searched her face for signs that he was convincing her. “That would be much better, wouldn’t it?”

  Frances shrugged. The disappointment was now sinking in. She would simply have to content herself with the fact that her first dinner party would not include any of her new in-laws. “Yes, I suppose so,” she conceded.

  He chuckled and pulled her into an embrace. Frances relaxed in his arms. It was the only place in which she felt safe. As he held her there, she wondered why she wanted Edward’s family present. Frances Emberton, get hold of yourself! You are throwing a dinner party for important people, and it is going to be rather grand indeed. She allowed that thought to blossom and felt the excitement rise within her again.

  “Right!” she said with renewed vigour dancing in her eyes. “Let’s have tea, and we can start to write out that list.” She turned around twisting out of her husband’s embrace and marched towards the drawing room. “I need to get those invitations out as soon as possible, Edward, or we will have no guests at all for this extravagant dinner party we are throwing!”

  She could hear Edward laugh as he followed her into the room, fetching paper, ink, and a pen from the writing desk before sitting down on the settee.

  Frances tugged the bell pull and then joined her husband upon the settee. “The first name we can add is my father.” She watched with satisfaction as Edward wrote and the nib scratched onto the paper Lord Ronald Davenport.

  Edward’s list was longer than Frances anticipated. She thanked God for Edward’s foresight in buying a house large
enough to accommodate so many guests, and for buying a table big enough to seat so many.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The two weeks running up to the event passed in a whirl for Frances. When the day finally dawned bright and clear, she almost leapt out of bed, having barely slept a wink all night thinking of the myriad of things still left to do and organise.

  A steady stream of tradesmen arrived at the house bringing fish, meat, and vegetables boxes filled with produce both familiar and new to Frances. Then came the flowers. She was in absolute ecstasy seeing the wonderful blooms they had shipped in from across the English Channel. Flowers that were now out of season in England but seeing the end of their season in Holland filled the house with the most beautiful aromas.

  As the afternoon sped along, Frances began to be filled with an anxiety bordering on terror that she had never experienced before. She was not used to such emotions. At both of her father’s houses, Frances was comfortable. She had grown up in those houses. When she arranged soirées or dinner parties for her father, familiarity served her well. At Sandon Place, everything was new—the house, her husband, her role. This was the first of many dinner parties she hoped to see in her new home as Edward’s wife, and it had to come off perfectly.

  A wave of nausea and dizziness hit her, and Frances knew she had to escape for a few moments, take time to clear her head and calm her nerves. She headed out of the dining room, down through the back of the hallway, and out into the gardens.

  Edward had made many improvements to them, and when he was home, he enjoyed pottering about and even planting some specimens himself. She found him fussing over and clipping his favourite bay tree.

  He looked up as she approached. “Frances, is everything all right?” looking at her with concern as he stretched out his back after bending over for so long.