Moreover, she was ensconced in the warmth of a bath, a dark-haired man whose face she could not discern leaned over her and she felt completely enveloped in love. She thought she ought to feel shocked at being naked in front of this man, but she did not. Her body, her entire being, yearned for him. His touch, his kisses, his tender affection.
She reached her hand out and cupped his cheek. He turned his face and kissed the center of her palm, sending a pulsation of desire through her which was so hot she wondered why the water of the tub did not boil.
He continued to kiss along her arm until he reached her shoulder, then his lips moved along her collar bone and still further down her body until his lips surrounded the hard bud of her breast.
Using his tongue to pull and tease the sensitive tip, waves of desire built in Seraphina until she uttered a loud groan, gripped the sides of the tub and soared to the heights of ecstasy. With a shudder, she floated back down.
Her husband lifted his face to hers and just as she was about to make out the features of his face she was jolted back to Lady Ambrosia’s solarium.
Blinking, she adjusted to the bright light of the room and stared around herself at her companions, a heated blush scorching her face as she made eye contact with them. Lady Ambrosia still held her hands.
Had Lady Ambrosia been able to see what she had seen? Oh heavens!
“Perhaps you ought to have a bit more tea, dear,” Lady Ambrosia said, releasing her hands and taking up the tea pot to refill Seraphina’s cup.
Seraphina’s heart continued to pound in her chest while she sipped the tea.
When she glanced at Lady Tempest and Lady Calliope they both smiled at her as though they knew a secret she did not know.
She finished her tea and set the cup down. She had to know, so she wet her lips and asked, “We-were you able to see what I saw? Could you hear me?” Oh Lord. In the vision, she had let loose some shockingly raw moans. What would they think of her?
For a long moment she waited for the reply.
“No, dear,” Lady Calliope said, “we could not see or hear anything you saw or heard, but we could see the happy expression on your face as you watched the scene which Lady Ambrosia shared with you. You looked blissfully in love.”
“Yes,” Lady Tempest said, “I am thrilled for you and cannot wait to meet your new husband.”
“I am eager to meet him as well,” Seraphina said. “Now it all feels very real. I am excited but also nervous. I do not know the first thing about how to be a good wife.”
“Do not concern yourself,” Lady Ambrosia said, patting her hand, “I can assure he will find you completely adorable.”
“But, can you not give me one piece of advice?”
“Just be yourself.”
“Was that not simply exhilarating?” Lady Calliope gushed once they were back inside the Knox family carriage.
“Oh, yes,” Lady Tempest said. “When I met Lady Ambrosia, even though she assured me the husband she had selected for me would be a perfect match, I was still very skeptical. Now, however, that I have experienced the joy of marriage and then seeing how happy Lady Calliope and Colonel St. Clair are together, I have complete faith in Lady Ambrosia and I am so very, very happy for you, Seraphina.”
Seraphina looked at her two mentors, tears shimmering in her eyes. “I cannot thank you enough for all you have done for me. I hope I can repay the kindness to you both, as well as Lord Knox and Colonel St. Clair.”
“All we wish is for you to find the love you deserve,” Lady Tempest said. Lady Calliope nodded her agreement.
4
Dr. Lucas Spencer paced the floor in the study of the vicarage. He had received communication the day prior from one Lady Ambrosia, whom he had engaged to secure a wife for himself, indicating his bride would be delivered to him posthaste. Or more accurately, delivered to him at the vicarage where the marriage could be completed. A most efficient plan, which he appreciated very much.
Lucas checked his pocket watch, and then compared it to the clock on the mantle, noting the clock on the mantle was two minutes slow. Though his fingers itched to make the proper adjustment, good manners won out for he knew better than to take such liberties with someone else’s home decor.
Precision, and timeliness, order and predictability. Those were the watchwords of his life. Even as they related to his actual watch. He chuckled to himself at the pun.
He wished the girl would arrive so they could get on with things, though he had to admit he had enjoyed the ride to London from Briar Glen. He did not often have the time to spare for such a trip and the solitude of the carriage had given him opportunity to think.
When he had written to Lady Ambrosia seeking her services in procuring a wife for himself, his primary purpose had simply been the belief that a wife would be a protection against the advances of the young women, and their pushy mothers, of the district. He took his work as a man of medicine seriously and had no time or patience for those who kept him from his duties for their own self-serving reasons.
What had surprised him during his travel meditations had been the realization he looked forward to having a wife, even one as yet unknown to him. How pleasant it would be to come home to a smiling face and affectionate arms after a long day riding around the county ministering to the ailing and the dying.
And, he was a man, after all, and not without the natural longings to enjoy the pleasures of a willing woman’s body.
Perhaps, in time, they would be so fortunate as to start a family.
Yes, it was all a very pleasant domestic picture, indeed.
Now, if only his bride would arrive. He imagined her sweet and demure, probably shy upon their first meeting, he would take her hand in his and reassure her of his fealty and trustworthiness.
“I am sure the young lady will be along very soon,” the vicar said. He was a short, round man with a jovial demeanor and Lucas could not fault him for his attempt to ease his anxiety.
Lucas simply nodded. Emotions had suddenly become very strong within him. He felt optimistic and excited for the first time in a very long while.
The two stared at each other in silence for a moment until the vicar said, “I perform many weddings for Lady Ambrosia’s clients. She has an uncanny talent.”
“I hope you are correct,” Lucas said. Though he did believe a marriage could be successful with two people willing to make the necessary sacrifices and adjustments, he did have a tiny nagging doubt about allowing someone else to make the selection for him. The vicar’s words were encouraging.
A sudden clatter of noise from the vestibule halted the conversation as three women hurried into the room.
“Hello,” the oldest of the three said, making her way to the vicar, “I am Lady Calliope St. Clair, we are here for a wedding.”
Another woman, this one with fiery red hair, stepped forward and extended her hand. “You must be the groom,” she said, breathlessly. “Congratulations.”
He took her hand and gave a brief bow. “Hello,” he said, hoping she was not his bride. Though she was attractive and her smile seemed genuine, he could tell immediately she was not the type of bride which would suit him. He had been quite specific in his instructions and expectations: ladylike, biddable, and calm. It had seemed a simple set of requirements, but based on the past few moments of women rushing about and making a great deal of noise, his faith in Lady Ambrosia had dwindled.
Was he having the stereotypical cold feet of a soon-to-be groom or had he made a mistake in allowing Lady Ambrosia to select a bride for him? His enthusiasm for the endeavor faded rapidly. Best for him to be on his way as quickly as possible. Back to his home in the small village of Briar Glen and far from the noise and disruption of London. He had made a fool’s errand, but it was not too late for him to right his course. He was a prideful man, but not so much as to allow pride and conceit to prevent him from correcting his own mistake.
In the midst of the activity brought about by the new arrivals, th
e vicar stepped forward. “Welcome,” he said. “I am Reverend Ellis, I will be performing the marriage ceremony. Now if we can all move into the chapel and take our places, we can begin and get the happy couple on their way.”
Reverend Ellis opened his arms and attempted to herd the group out of his study and into the sanctuary, but they were not so easily contained.
The redhead continued to stand in front of Lucas. “Well, you have not answered my question, sir. I hope I did not offend with my forwardness. I do have that tendency, particularly when I am enthusiastic and today I am very enthusiastic for I just adore a wedding. Do you not agree a wedding is cause for much happiness?”
Lucas fought the urge to massage his temples, for the onslaught from this woman had set his head to pounding anew. He glanced about the room, his usually well-ordered thoughts in a jumble as he endeavored to make a choice. His heart began to thud in his chest for he did not care for making rash decisions. He liked information, facts and figures, and time upon which to ponder them before coming to a conclusion, especially in a matter of grave importance.
He had done his due diligence in hiring Lady Ambrosia, for she came highly recommended to him by a number of gentlemen of his acquaintance of whom he had discreetly inquired about the services of a marriage broker. Now he wondered if perhaps they had been having fun at his expense.
Nevertheless, he reminded himself, he had made the determination to seek a bride and apparently, behind the flurry of activity of the other two women, his bride existed.
Taking a deep breath, he addressed the woman with the fiery hair and direct demeanor.
With a glance at her hand he was relieved to see she was wearing a wedding band. Thank goodness. He did not believe he would be well suited to a woman of her bold nature.
“I am Dr. Lucas Spencer,” he said. “And I am here to get married. However, I have yet to meet my bride.”
“Well,” the redhead said, “I am Lady Tempest Knox, I am happy to meet you. And please, allow me to introduce you to your new bride.” She brought forward a young woman who stepped gingerly in his direction, her eyes cast downward.
“Dr. Spencer, I would like you to meet Miss Seraphina Moon,” she said smiling broadly. “Seraphina,” she said touching the younger woman on the shoulder, “this is Dr. Spencer. He will be your husband.”
When the little slip of a girl with a large and unusual name raised her head and her gaze met his, Dr. Spencer found himself momentarily stunned. He was not one to believe in fantasies or fairies or omens. He believed in hard work, honor, and facts.
And yet, in the moment when his eyes met the large brown eyes of Miss Seraphina Moon, a little place in his heart which had been locked up tightly slowly cracked open and Miss Moon walked in and filled up the space to overflowing.
He extended his gloved hand and she placed her small delicate lace-covered fingers in his. “I am most pleased to meet you,” he said. “I intend to be a good husband to you.”
Seraphina touched her hand to the palm of the man who would be her groom, her gaze still locked with his. Her breath caught in her throat and time stood still. Never had she seen such a handsome man or felt immediately entranced by a stranger.
“I am pleased to meet you, sir,” she said, with a curtsy once she gathered her wits about her.
“Your hand is shaking, Miss Moon,” he said, his voice like a warm blanket wrapping around her. “Are you certain you are quite well?”
“Oh, yes,” Lady Calliope said stepping forward. “She is quite well indeed, sir. I’m sure she is simply a bit nervous, as you may well understand.”
“I thank you for the clarification, my lady,” Dr. Spencer said, in a tone which had a chilling effect on Lady Calliope and caused her to step back a couple of paces. Seraphina found his stern manner quite enticing, indeed and a small knot of desire formed in her womanly place.
“I would like to hear from Miss Moon,” he said still holding her hand, looking directly into her eyes. “Are you feeling well, my dear?”
Seraphina swallowed around the lump in her throat, for she had never been gazed upon so intently by a man, at least not in anger. “Yes, Doctor, I am quite well. It is simply that I am rather nervous. I have never been a bride before.”
A smile spread across Dr. Spencer’s mouth, and he took her hand and tucked it into the crook of his arm. “I would be surprised if you were not nervous at being a bride, particularly marrying someone you have never met before. Shall we take a short walk so I may endeavor to calm your worries?”
Seraphina’s heart pounded in her chest as she looked up at the tall broad-shouldered man who was to be her husband. Oh, he was so much more enticing than even her vivid imagination might have conjured. “Thank you, yes. I would like that very much.”
As they walked out of the vicar’s study, Dr. Spencer called over his shoulder, “I believe you have a garden here is that not true, vicar?”
“Yes, Doctor,” the vicar replied. “However,” he said following after them, “there is the matter of the marriage which needs to be performed.”
Seraphina felt a bit of alarm rising in her chest. The vicar seemed to be put out by Dr. Spencer’s deviation from the schedule. She hoped there would not be any conflict over this, for she did not like to be involved in any sort of disharmony. However, Dr. Spencer handled the matter quite smoothly, her confidence in her new groom growing.
“We shall be but a minute, reverend,” he said. “I should like to speak with the girl and make sure that she is here of her own free will. I appreciate an arranged marriage; however, I will not be party to a forced wedding.”
“Oh, yes, of course,” the vicar said, stepping back into his study with Lady Tempest and Lady Calliope. “We shall wait here for you.”
Seraphina found Dr. Spencer’s ability to cope with the situation quite comforting, indeed. The anxiety which she had worn like a heavy cloak about her shoulders melted away. She stole a glance up at him, noting the deep richness of his eyes, the sometimes stern line of his brow, and his forehead which seemed to have a large number of creases in it. She wondered what had caused him such distress, for she did not believe him to be old enough to have so many worry lines.
As they stepped into the garden, she saw a bench tucked beneath a cherry tree. Dr. Spencer must have noticed it too, for he guided her there. He removed a large crisp handkerchief from his pocket and wiped off the bench before assisting her to sit upon it. Seraphina was unused to such gallantry and the gesture warmed her heart even further.
She moved to the side, creating room for him to join her upon the bench, however he continued to stand and as she glanced up to him she squinted in the sunlight. She was unsure how to proceed, so she clasped her hands in her lap and kept her eyes focused on them.
“Miss Moon,” Dr. Spencer said, “you are a young, attractive lady, why have you chosen to marry a man selected for you by a matchmaker?”
Startled by the directness of his approach she glanced up at him and felt her eyes go wide in alarm.
“You will be mine, Seraphina. Bought and paid for. Mine to do with as I please.”
The horror of the statement chilled her to the core. She was helpless. Hopeless.
“I – I am sorry, sir,” she said, pushing away the terrifying memory, “if you do not find me acceptable. I do appreciate your compliments to me, for I am not accustomed to receiving such kind words from a gentleman such as you.”
“I beg your pardon, miss,” Dr. Spencer said, softening his tone. “I did not mean to imply that I found you unacceptable at all. In truth, I had not expected to be paired with a lady of your youth and beauty.”
“Oh, oh my, my lord,” Seraphina said, flustered. His flattery was pleasing but it also made her exceptionally anxious. In a nervous gesture, she reached up to touch her hair, but instead bumped one of the low hanging branches of the cherry tree which became entangled in the sleeve of her dress. She tried, discreetly, to disengage herself but the more she attempted to pull
away it seemed the deeper the branch became embedded in the lace of her sleeve. And the more the branch became embedded, the more anxious she became and the more she thrashed her arm.
She could feel a bit of hysteria rising within her, and she bit back the blue words which tempted her lips. Only a few minutes remained before she would legally be bound to this most appealing gentleman and she dared not allow her unrestrained tongue to ruin things.
She had worked so hard to follow the instructions given to her by Lady Tempest and Lady Calliope about how to behave like a proper young woman, yet within only moments of being alone with Dr. Spencer she had managed to create a scene. No doubt her unrelenting crudeness would most certainly cause Dr. Spencer to seek a different bride. For what gentleman would wish to saddle himself with a wife who could not even sit on a garden bench in a peaceable and ladylike manner?
Dr. Spencer calmly took hold of her arm, returned her free hand to her lap, and disengaged the tree branch from her sleeve. He removed a couple of loose leaves which had landed upon her sleeve.
A heated flush covered Seraphina from her throat to her hairline. Why, oh why, could she never get through any sort of meeting, particularly with a stranger, and more particularly, with a very handsome stranger at that, without embarrassing herself?
“Thank you, sir,” she said softly. “You are exceptionally kind.”
“You are welcome,” he said.
“I do not mean to be such a burden,” she said. “It seems I am always getting myself into some sort of scrape, sometimes quite literally. You asked why I had chosen to use a matchmaker, and I believe you deserve a truthful answer.” She composed herself for a moment, knowing what she said next might jeopardize the possibility of her marrying Dr. Spencer. Though she had only just met him, his kind demeanor had had a calming effect on her. And she felt quite safe with him, despite usually being extremely nervous in the company of gentlemen. She would be most sad if he chose not to marry her, but she felt it important to let him know the truth about her.
Lessons for His Bride (Regency Matchmaker Book 3) Page 4