“I didn’t. I have taken a post as companion to Lady Darlington,” she explained patiently. “Didn’t your parents explain anything?”
“Haven’t talked much to them. Came right off after you. Mater said you had some bee in your bonnet, and we had better get things straightened out. Whatever did you mean, running off as soon as my back was turned?”
She felt tearful, bewildered all at once. “But Deidre said … and you left…”
Malcolm was staring down at her, looking rather large and grim, for all his slenderness. “What d’you want to marry Reggie for? He’s as slow-top as I am! If you want to marry an intellectual…
“I never want to marry anyone!” she burst out, untruthfully. “I hate marriage! I shall live as a … a free female, and make my own living!”
“You’re insane, you’re ready for a madhouse,” said Malcolm and picked her up out of the chair and began to kiss her fiercely. “Crazy female … I should never turn my back … you think of the wildest things … keep you under my thumb, that’s what Papa said … right about it … I’ll keep you right there, under my eye … never let you go…”
His kisses sent fire through her body, cold for so long. She clung to him weakly, her hands on his hard shoulders, loving the feel of the bone and sinew under his beautiful blue silk coat. He was here, kissing her, ordering her about, and she loved it!
He pressed his mouth slowly to hers, and her eyes closed. She loved the feel of his warm sensuous mouth, the hardness of his arms shut tightly about her, the heat of his body against hers.
“I adore you,” he said thickly. “I’m mad about you. I’ll never let you go! How could you leave me? I’m furious with you … ought to kiss you to death —”
“Oh, Malcolm!” she breathed, delighted, so relieved she wanted to cry.
Clasping her close, he drew back enough to look down into her dazed, bemused face, and said, “Look here, Valerie. You come back, return, and I’ll see that you have everything you want. It’s a solemn promise. Won’t have to work, do nothing you don’t want. Go to a ball if you want, stay home if you want. Don’t have to ride in the phaeton since it scares you…”
“It doesn’t! You never asked me to ride … you always took Deidre…” She swallowed on the words, remembering her unhappiness. “Deidre said … you didn’t want … you never wanted…”
He led her firmly to the nearby sofa, and drew her down with him. “Got to get this worked out,” he said. “Now, start from the beginning. Why did you leave?”
“That’s not the beginning, it’s the end!”
“Then start where you will. Why have you been so cold and nasty to me? Don’t you like me even a little?”
He looked so anxious, so unhappy, that her hands cupped his face, and she said, “Malcolm, I love you so much. Too much to hurt you. If you want Deidre … to marry her … we’ll get a divorce.”
“You’re mad,” he said, with conviction. “I don’t love Deidre. Like her like a sister. She’s fun to run about with. Drives me bats, begging for jewellery and all. Tears in her eyes, and saying how Eustace would have got it for her … that’s why I got her the sapphires, Valerie, really! Papa said I was foolish, but she went on and on about them.”
“Deidre said,” she said very slowly, trying to get it clear herself. Malcolm’s look was so clear, his hazel eyes so honest and direct. “Deidre said you wanted a divorce … to marry her. That you loved each other, and I was not … not your sort.”
“Wouldn’t marry her in a thousand females,” said Malcolm, with a frown. “Drive one mad in a short time. Always wanting more things. Too fuzzy in the top if you ask me! Spoiled by her mother, all right. Never could see what Eustace liked in her. Dazzled by her looks, I expect. Though at the last, I think he got tired of her. Thought so from his letters.”
Valerie stared at him. Could he mean it? That Deidre bored him? Exhausted him, exasperated him? And Eustace had not been the devoted fiancé he had seemed, that he had begun to see through Deidre?
“Come on, Valerie, stop making excuses. Why did you go? Oh, never mind that,” he added hastily. “Just say you’ll come back, and it’ll all be the same again, and I’ll see that you have everything you want. We can live in London all the season if you like, and I’ll go to lectures with you, sit through anything! I really didn’t mind the explorer chap, thought he was fine except he kept staring at you and kissing your hand! But you can let anyone kiss your hand, just so long as you don’t love them. What about it, Valerie?”
His arm was about her waist, she was snugly against his firm shoulder, his voice was coaxing in her ear, his free hand stroked up and down her bare arm. She could not help it, she burst into tears.
“Oh, I say, Valerie, it isn’t so bad as that!” he murmured, worriedly, pressing her fingers, kissing her cheek. “Don’t cry, it tears me apart, darling! I love you, Valerie. You won’t cry any more, will you?”
“I … I th-thought … you di-didn’t want me,” she sobbed.
“Not want … now, Valerie, you know better than that. Who wrote me all those wonderful letters that kept up my spirits all the time? Who nursed me night and day, for weeks and months, when she was so tired she looked ready to break in two? Who was so sweet in bed, and so lovely…?” He went on whispering sweet things to her, kissing her ear and her wet cheeks.
“I do love you,” she confessed at last. “I … I didn’t think … you were so cold … and you preferred Deidre…”
“Did not — only you were cold to me,” he said. “Not even wanting me in your bed!” He looked down at her reproachfully.
“I … I was ill, Malcolm. I mean … with the baby…”
“Baby?” He looked stunned. “What are you talking about?”
She gulped. “I’m going … going to have a baby … in November, Malcolm. I was sick at my stomach, and I couldn’t let you … I mean … oh, dear,” and she began to cry again.
She caught her breath when he drew her tenderly to him. “You foolish idiot,” he said, with great tenderness, holding her carefully. “Not telling me about such a wonderful thing. You’re going to have my baby! Oh, Lord, what a marvel! A baby! All our own! My God, I’m insane, I can’t believe it! Tell me again!”
She told him again, and he beamed, as though he were already a proud father. A baby, he kept saying over and over.
Then abruptly he was anxious. “Did you say you were sick? Valerie! Have you had a doctor? What if you’re too sick? I mean, does mama know? She never said a word —”
“I didn’t tell them,” she confessed. “I didn’t tell anyone. Glenda guessed, she said she thought I should tell you, but I just couldn’t … not when I thought you and Deidre…”
“You mean you’d have kept the baby from me? Valerie!” He looked so hurt that she had to kiss him again.
Someone tapped at the door, rather quietly. At the third tap, Malcolm finally called, “Come in if you must!”
Reggie opened the door and peered around it. When he saw them sitting together very closely on the couch, and Malcolm wiping Valerie’s eyes, he looked so relieved and happy that Valerie had to smile through her tears.
“I say, all right now?” he hissed, as though someone were ill. “Aunt sent me to find out if you were fighting or making up! What shall I say?”
“Tell her we’re making up, and I’m taking her right home,” said Malcolm with decision.
Malcolm sent for Valerie’s cloak and bonnet, told Glenda to pack up and follow them, and took Valerie home. He had the closed barouche, all grand and comfortable, with the crest on the door. Valerie was glad of it, she felt all weepy-eyed, and plain. However, he did not let her go up to her room when they got home.
He had been thinking, and his face was serious. He sent for his parents, and they came to the drawing room.
The countess kissed Valerie, and the earl put his arm about her gently and gave her a hug. “Knew you had to come back,” said the earl. “We cannot do without you!”
“She’s going to have a baby in November,” announced Malcolm, with great satisfaction. “We’ll have to take great care of her!”
There was much exclamation and surprise, a joyful phrase from the earl, “Just what I wanted!”
“What I want to know is,” said Malcolm, “why Deidre is staying on? She’s making trouble, saying all those things to Valerie, and hanging on us. What shall we do about it, mama? Do you wish her to remain?”
“No, indeed not,” said the countess, with unusual firmness. “I cannot understand the child, trying to wreck Valerie and Malcolm’s marriage! Telling dear Valerie she was going to marry Malcolm herself! I’ll send her home to her mother with a note!”
Valerie could not help feeling immense relief. Deidre was sent for and talked to in the countess’s private sitting room. She came out with swollen red eyes and a sullen pout to her red mouth. Her clothing was packed in several immense trunks and valises, and any number of hat boxes. A maid was dispatched with her, and two grooms, in two carriages, so that her mother would not have any cause to be angry with their treatment of her daughter.
At the same time, the countess sent a very firm letter to Lady Ramsey, stating that the girl had tried to make trouble in her son’s marriage, and she would not be willing to receive Lady Deidre in her home again. She regretted very much the necessity of informing Lady Ramsey that her daughter had behaved in such a foolish and troublesome way and recommended that the good lady arrange a practical marriage for the girl and settle her down.
The earl was frankly pleased to have her gone. He bluntly preferred Valerie, and had all along. Once Lady Deidre was out of the house, everything seemed so much more peaceful, the earl declared.
Malcolm had come to the stage of fussing around Valerie, stuffing cushions behind her back, and enquiring whether to send for the doctor. They did send for a doctor, but Valerie decided she would rather have the doctor near Arundel to attend her.
So they decided to go home, to the country. London had lost its blatant attractions for them all.
Valerie’s one remaining worry was answered after they had gone home. She had worried that Malcolm might be secretly dissatisfied with the decision to return to the country, that he might long for London and his gaming companions.
They were walking in the garden on a fine July day. Valerie loved to walk there, in her Shakespeare garden, and admire the round plots of roses and phlox, the charming small pansies and heartsease, the purple flags and stately white lilies with yellow hearts. The herbs gave forth their sweet scents, especially in the evening as the air cooled.
Malcolm laid a cloak about her shoulders. “You must not be chilled, my dear,” he said tenderly.
“I am fine, thank you, love,” she said, happily. He took her hand and put it in his arm, and they strolled along the garden paths as the sun sank slowly, and a deeper blue filled the sky.
“How lovely is the country,” said Malcolm. “How much prettier than London! The smoke and the grime grow worse every year.”
“Do you not miss the excitement and your friends?” she asked, with seeming casualness.
“No, not much,” he said. “Oh, I’d be glad to have a couple of the fellows down. Did you know Lord Maitland is finally going to marry? We are invited to the wedding, but I wrote and said we were going to have more excitement down here in November, with the baby coming! I invited them to come in the New Year, he and his bride. That all right with you?”
“That is lovely,” she said contentedly. “I had a letter from Lady Darlington. She has hired a fine companion, an older lady who is a widow, and most intelligent. I am so pleased for her. Her leg is much better. She asked also to come some time when we could receive her.”
“Just so long as you don’t ask that explorer chap,” said Malcolm, with a laugh. “I think I was more jealous of him than all the others together.”
She squeezed his hand softly. “You have no need to be jealous of anyone, Malcolm. I love you dearly.”
“You’re the best wife I could have ever found,” he said, with vast contentment. “Thing is, I can’t see why you settled for me! I didn’t even understand that thing you wrote the other day.”
“Yes, you did, after I explained it! I should write it more clearly,” she said, frowning a little.
“I’m proud of you. All those things in the magazines. Do you know, the vicar’s wife said you were the most intellectual female she has ever met? And a nice woman also!”
He laughed a little, happily, then bent and plucked a fine yellow rose to tuck into her hair. He kissed her as he did so, and smiled into her eyes. “You’re prettier all the time,” he whispered.
“Oh, and I’m getting so big…” she murmured in protest, blushing at his look.
“Father was talking about names the other day. I wondered if we might name him for Papa, if it’s a boy, and for Louis. He’s such a good soul.”
“That would be lovely.”
“Or if she is a girl,” said Malcolm, absorbed in his thoughts, “we might name her for Lady Darlington. I think she would be most pleased. What do you think?”
“I think you are the most considerate man in the world!”
“Oh, I like that, I like that,” he said, paused, and kissed her on her cheek, then on her mouth, in one of his slow sensuous warm kisses that thrilled her from her head to her toes.
“Are you happy, darling?” he whispered, when they walked on slowly.
“The happiest woman in the world!”
“I mean to keep you that way,” he promised.
She smiled, and leaned her head on his shoulder as they paced the garden slowly. The flowers were fragrant, the air cool and sweet after the warmth of the day. How happy she was! With the man she adored so thoughtful of her, so loving and happy with her. And the baby to come. She would have the best of two worlds, to be a happy wife and mother.
And Malcolm had at last shown interest in her articles and her stories. He approved of her continuing her work and praised her efforts. She would have the joy of continuing her work as an intelligent, educated female. And yet she would have Malcolm, and her family as well.
The fingers of her one hand folded over her other hand, to caress gently the heart-shaped amethyst ring. The symbol of steadfastness in love, a true symbol now of their marriage. She would work hard to make sure the meaning would always be true for them.
***
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eBook ISBN: 978-1-80055-204-3
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Amethyst Love: A passionate Regency romance Page 21
