They were breathtaking.
“I am your wife,” Kim said. “And your friend.” She reached up and touched his hair again.
She’d caught him nearly leaning into her touch when she’d done it before. This time, she allowed her fingers to brush his skin. She heard his catch of breath and, if possible, he became even more like a statue, as still as marble underneath her touch.
She’d frozen as well.
Their eyes caught.
Held.
She became lost in the stars of his gaze.
His hand shot up and grabbed her wrist. His gaze narrowed before he lowered her hand, removing it from his face. Then he stood and turned to the door.
Kim turned around just as Lady Macy was shown into the room. Her servant must have delivered her missive only moments before her mistress left her residence.
Kim stood and took her aunt in, though found it hard with her attention divided.
James had taken great steps away from Kim and seemed inclined to forget she was in the room. He didn’t look at her. His shoulders were balled. Was he simply nervous or was it something more?
Whatever progress she’d made looked to have been crushed under whatever emotions were taking place inside of him.
Kim bowed to her aunt.
Lady Macy approached and looked her over. “Kimberley. How are you?”
“Well.” Kim smiled with a brightness she didn’t feel. “Happy, actually. It is so good to see you, Aunt May.” Her mother’s affectionate term slipped out. Kim continued to speak, hoping to cover up the mistake. “Finally, I can thank you in person—”
“Yes, your clothes.” Lady Macy leaned away. “They won’t do for a marchioness.”
“I’ve already made arrangements for the city’s best modiste to arrive later today,” James said.
Kim hadn’t known that.
“Excellent,” her aunt said. She turned to him. “Lord Denhallow, I had no clue you were acquainted with my niece.” While Lady Macy looked frail underneath the furs and jewels, which even Kim knew most of society would frown upon as an immodest show of wealth, Lady Macy’s gaze was strong and direct.
James turned to her aunt. He held his hands down at his side, balled into fists. “I wasn’t until recently.”
“Oh?” Lady Macy asked.
Kim rushed on. “Lady Macy, I must say—”
“Aunt May will do very well,” Lady Macy said with a smile. “Of course, I’ll have to present you to all my friends. It isn’t every day that good investments pay out. I paid for your schooling, after all, and look at you now. You’re married to a marquess with a very old title and a long-respected family history. I do say, when your mother wrote me about what happened, I was worried. However…” She looked Kim over again and then turned to James. “When will the clothes be ready? Never mind. When the modiste arrives, I will make sure Kim has everything she needs.”
“Of course.” James bowed. “I will leave such decisions in both of your hands.”
Kim’s eyes widened. She looked over her aunt, saw the jewels and the fine clothes, and then turned back to James. Her gaze must have communicated her worry.
Lady Macy laughed. “Do not fear, my dear. Lord Denhallow is wealthy.”
Kim’s face began to burn. It was impolite to speak about money, yet when she glanced over, she noticed just how much James had relaxed since her aunt had come into the room.
And Kim realized there was likely nothing to fear from her aunt where James was concerned. The woman didn’t seem to think ill of him in the least, and there was no worry in her gaze.
∫ ∫ ∫
1 8
“You should know I stole your letter from Kim,” James confessed suddenly to Aunt May, even though there was no reason for him to. “I read it and wrote her. It is how we became acquainted.”
“That was positively wicked of you,” Lady Macy said without much feeling. “You should be lucky it worked out for you both. Now, I wish to spend some time alone with my niece.”
“Yes, my lady.” James bowed and, with one final look at Kim, left.
The door closed behind him.
Kim turned to Lady Macy.
Her aunt spoke first. “Are you truly all right? Has he coerced you in any way into this match?”
Kim was shocked. “No. Not at all. If anything, I coerced him.” She took her aunt’s thin hands into her own. “I asked him to marry me.”
Lady Macy stared into her eyes and then nodded. Her features calmed. “I had to ask. Your mother’s letter was quite hysterical. So many apologies for not writing me before and then she begged me to see to your wellbeing.”
“James would never hurt me.”
Lady Macy lifted a brow. “You sound quite confident of that. How long have you known him?”
Her cheeks burned. Her hands flew to her face. “Not long, but…” She wasn’t sure how much she should share with her aunt.
“Tell me everything,” the lady decided before she moved to the couch. “Where are the servants? We are in need of tea, and you should have someone inform the marquess that he better busy himself with other things. This could take some time and, naturally, I want to stay for when the modiste arrives.”
In seconds, the plans Kim had begun to form in her mind—plans that had involved her new husband—were changed.
Thanks to both of them.
Kim frowned as she thought of what to do.
Her aunt lifted her chin. “Kimberley, he will survive a few moments without you. Now, ring for tea and come sit down.”
Kim sighed and did as her aunt said. When she finally took her seat, she asked, “Why do you think I worry about the marquess?”
Lady Macy lifted a brow. “It was made clear by the way you tried to stop him from telling me about the letters. Clearly, you care for him.”
“And do you?” Kim asked. “You are his friend still, aren’t you?”
“Of course.” Lady Macy smiled. “Lord Denhallow is a clever man. I enjoy his company. He is forgiven for stealing my mail so long as he doesn’t do so again.”
Kim’s heart was racing. “I’m sure he won’t.”
“As am I.” Lady Macy straightened. “Now, your mother’s letter included something else. She confessed to not giving you the talk.”
Kim leaned forward. “The talk?”
Lady Macy blinked. “Coupling, dear. She said she didn’t tell you how a woman was to go about pleasing her husband.”
Kim stared at her aunt and didn’t know whether she should laugh or pray the couch swallow her whole. Now she understood why her aunt had demanded privacy and believed she’d need the entire day for it.
“Have you done it yet?” Lady Macy asked with sincerity.
Kim felt the heat in her cheeks spread throughout her face and down her neck, burning her to a degree that made her wish for a cold spring to jump into. “Aunt May… This conversation is unnecessary.”
“Because you’ve done it?” Lady Macy pressed.
Kim swallowed. “Yes.” It wasn’t a lie.
“Good.” Her aunt nodded slowly. “I’m likely not the first person to wonder if the marquess could do it at all anymore.” Leaning forward, she lowered her voice. “One never knows where his scars truly end.” Then she straightened. “Glad to know he wasn’t maimed by the deranged man who took him. Don’t worry if you didn’t get it right the first time. From what I’ve heard about Lord Denhallow...” Color began to bloom on her aunt’s face, turning her pale coloring a ruddy shade. “Well.” She looked down at the hands that rested on her knees.
Kim was completely scandalized by this conversation, yet couldn’t help but ask, “What have you heard about him?”
Lady Macy looked over at her. “Well, naturally, you’ve learned since the wedding. You are bedding him, after all.”
Kim fisted her hands on her lap and held herself back from shouting in frustration. “I know so little about James’ past. Perhaps, you should share this rumor you heard?”
/> “Well, I heard he’s quite accomplished in the bedchamber. He had a mistress a few years ago. The woman was known to have many partners, but when she met Denhallow, she stopped entertaining the others.”
Kim hated hearing about James with other women but knew she had only herself to blame. “Perhaps, James demanded she stop seeing other lords.”
Lady Macy shook her head. “Arrah Page never allowed a man to tell her what to do, no matter how wealthy or titled.” Her aunt gave a solid nod. “We’re certain her decision to only entertain the marquess came from his extensive experience with women.”
Extensive.
Kim bit the inside of her cheek and wished she was a woman who knew nothing about coupling, for she was sure that if she was, this conversation would not have angered her so. Yet she’d eaten of the forbidden fruit. She knew exactly what she was missing from her marriage.
And she had James to blame for it.
But then another thought came.
What if he had been maimed? She hadn’t allowed herself to think of it before, because James was so virile in other ways that she thought it impossible.
But had his tormenter had cut him down there?
Kim pulled in a series of breaths to keep herself calm. It would not do to break down in front of her aunt. The woman would think James had caused it.
Tea came seconds later and then the modiste arrived with two seamstresses. Morning quickly turned into afternoon as Kim was fitted for one gown after another. There was every season to consider. Cloaks and jackets, riding habits, and gloves for every occasion.
Lady Macy only spoke of jewelry to say, “Your husband will choose those pieces for you.”
Kim was glad to know her aunt did not think to dress Kim up like herself. There would not be an overabundance of fabric or gems. What was chosen was simple and in a taste that Kim liked, though she hoped James would not suffer horribly when the bill finally came.
Lady Macy left moments after the modiste, only pausing long enough for Kim to promise to visit.
Through it all, Kim began to understand why her mother had liked Lady Macy. She was a very direct woman who clearly cared—even if she’d stopped reading Kim’s letters years ago.
She found James in the library sometime later.
The room was large, and every wall seemed to be taken up with books except for where the tall draped windows and adjacent fireplaces stood.
There were some metal trinkets on the mantel and on a few of the shelves. A marble bust sculpture sat in the corner on a short column.
A few wingback chairs and a couch sat around a circular rug.
James sat on the couch, which was the farthest seat in the room. A lamp was lit on the small table at his side. He’d been reading a small book but looked up when she entered. He’d been relaxed when he thought no one was looking. Now, he was stiff again.
She thought about their moment before her aunt’s arrival and wondered how long it would be before she could get him to lower his guard again.
“How was your time with your aunt?” he asked, still holding the book.
She paused at the threshold. “I hope we didn’t hurt your finances too severely. She may have purchased every single thread of silk in Manchester.”
He tapped the book against his chin. “Then it’s a good thing I’ve made investments in the silk industry. I can afford almost anything. And keep in mind, I’ve not paid rent in London in two years or had to buy tickets to any events. Someone should spend it. It might as well be you.”
It was confirmation that he could afford the purchases, though she’d not enjoyed hearing about how much he’d lost.
“I can’t imagine where I will wear all those clothes,” she said.
“I’m sure your aunt will take you places.” He turned back to the book. “You’ll make friends.” But he’d never take her to a party or play.
She decided to change the subject as she moved into the room. “What are you reading?”
“It’s about the manor.” He looked at her again. “I know who built it. A Mr. Jonathan Edwin built it for his wife in 1603. They lived here for fifteen years.”
Kim settled on the couch close to him, their arms brushing, and then met his eyes.
He held her gaze for a moment and then looked at the book. “They were happy, though they had no children. In the end, Mr. Edwin bequeathed the manor to his niece Mary Thorne. Miss Mary Thorne later became Lady Denhallow, wife to Lord James Hayden I.”
Her James was the fourth in line. “So, your great-grandfather brought it. It’s not attached to the title?”
James shook his head. “This is not my seat. The Denhallow residence is closer to London, but I grew up here. My parents preferred it here.”
“Do you ever go to your family seat?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Not since… the incident. There is no need.” He looked away. “I rarely feel like it’s mine. It’ll go to one of my cousins when I’m gone.”
She rested her head on his arm and pressed her lips together to keep from begging him to reconsider.
“Don’t pity me, Kim,” he said. “I accept who I am. It is best you do so as well. We can be happy, if you allow it. Let us not ask for more.”
She looked at him, saw the strength in his gaze, and knew this man did not pity himself. He seemed quite content with his life.
She let out a breath and decided that perhaps he was right. They could be happy if she allowed it. Who said she should ask for more when she’d already been given so much?
Sitting there beside her was a husband she never thought to have.
If James could be happy, and Mr. and Mrs. Edwin, who’d had no children of their own, then so could she.
∫ ∫ ∫
1 9
James placed a hand around Kim’s waist as they walked. White flakes spun through the air, caught on his lashes, and melted. They made slow progress in the mountain of snow that blanketed the ground. The wind hit them the moment they made it to the other side of the house and instinctively, he moved to block her from most of it.
She smiled up at him with a knowing look. “Sarah and I likely spent just as much time outside during the winters as we did in the spring and summer.” Bundled in the new fur-lined red cloak and new dark blue dress the modiste had finished for her in a week’s time and the gloves and muff he’d purchased for her weeks ago, Kim looked stunning. Her skin looked warmer against the backdrop of the manor’s white exterior. Long black curls swept against her chin and caught in her lips.
She reached up and pushed back the hair while his own free hand fisted at his side. “Why ever would you spend so much time outside in this sort of weather?”
She laughed. The sound of it struck him like lightning.
He’d thought the cold would cool his blood, but it was no match for Kim, who tempted him without ever trying to.
He knew that now. The sensuality in her nature was simply her. She had no clue how much promise lay in her dark, sea-green eyes or the potential of her lips.
They’d been at Noxgrove Manor for only seven days and James had already gone mad. His new wife enjoyed his time just as much as he enjoyed hers. She’d gone to see her aunt once and James had used that time to look over some contracts that his man of business Mr. Jacobson had left, but except for that one day, he and Kim were rarely apart from one another except for to sleep.
Yet even there, as he rested in the silent night, she came to him in his thoughts. Beautiful and warm.
And willing.
“Why not?” she asked.
He had to blink to remind himself that she could not read his mind, that she hadn’t consented to joining him in his bedchamber. She was speaking about the weather.
She started to walk again. “There’s ice skating and sledding. Oh, and building things in the snow.”
“You’re both grown women. Surely, you do little of that now.” He kept his hand on her back as they moved.
She laughed again. “You
sound like Charles. He decided he was far too old for games long ago, but Sarah and I enjoy them far too much to ever give them up. Why should one stop playing when they grow up? I never understood that. If you are healthy and your body is capable, why not?”
He was healthy, and his body was very capable, but he steered his mind back to the snow and away from the bedchamber. “I suppose you are right,” he finally said. He positioned his scarf so that it covered part of his face when another quick wind blew. “If one is able to do it, they should. Life is short.”
“Indeed. Oh, we’re almost there.” He watched her excitement grow, becoming its own wild entity in her gaze.
They’d come out with a purpose today.
Aside from Kim wishing to put on her new cloak, they’d been reading about the manor and finding more information about it. The book mentioned Julia Edwin’s name being carved into the cornerstone of the house.
James had wanted to send the servants out to find it and to return with news, but Kim had wanted to conduct the search herself.
With the residence’s slight ‘U’ shape, they’d already checked seven corners of the manor. This was the last.
Two stablemen, Mr. Paul and young David, who’d been trailing behind them, shot forward and began to dig the snow away from the wall, just as they’d done the other times.
“Might I help?” Kim asked.
James put his hand on Kim’s far shoulder when she tried to move forward. “Let them work.”
She laughed and then settled into his side. The intimate act, which might have startled him days ago, didn’t now. He’d learned that Kim needed touch and seemed to gain something from it. So, he’d learn to allow it and even let himself enjoy it.
She shivered, and he looked down at her, but her smile had nothing to do with the weather. His wife was enjoying this game, a hunt for a name that was a declaration of love. He’d thought her mad when she’d asked to go look for it, but now he wished to see the mark of love himself.
The men dug deeper than the snow, just as they had on the other corners.
Mark of The Marquess (The Valiant Love Regency Romance) (A Historical Romance Book) Page 9
