The Truth Behind Their Practical Marriage

by Marguerite Kaye

  ‘I think that the people of County Kildare will be saying that I am the one with excellent taste when they meet you.’

  It was the first time she had seen him in evening dress. His tailcoat was black with a shawl collar, the fashionable nipped waist suiting his lithe form, as did the plain black trousers. A white waistcoat with gold buttons fitted neatly over his flat stomach, and a plain starched cravat showed off his tanned face and neatly trimmed beard. ‘You look rather magnificent yourself, if you don’t mind my saying so,’ Estelle said, crossing the room to join him. ‘What was it that brought you here?’

  ‘I have something for you. A surprise.’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you.’

  ‘It’s your birthday, not mine. In actual fact I have a surprise for you. It’s downstairs, in my parlour.’

  ‘Oddly enough, that’s where I have just placed my surprise for you. Shall we?’

  ‘Let me get my gloves.’

  ‘Bring them with you, but don’t put them on yet.’

  Aidan caught her hand, lifting it to his lips, pressing a kiss to her palm. She felt the flick of his tongue, and her breath caught in her throat. He smiled as he let her hand go. ‘It seems abstinence makes the body grow fonder. I’m thirty-one years old today, far too old to be brought to boiling point by hand kissing.’

  ‘It’s because we have been simmering for weeks.’

  He gave a bark of laughter. ‘Simmering! You and your unique way with words again. Come away out of this room, woman, before I forget myself.’

  Smiling, she followed him on the circuitous journey to her parlour, where he made her close her eyes before leading her in. ‘I can’t imagine what you have hidden here, for I’ve been in and out all day, and I would have noticed if...’

  ‘I had it brought in just now while you were dressing. You can open your eyes now.’

  She gazed in silent wonder at the harpsichord which stood in the centre of the room. ‘Oh, Aidan!’

  ‘We had to move some of the furnishings to accommodate it. I don’t know if you’ll want to keep it here, or have it moved elsewhere.’

  ‘No, it’s perfect where it is.’ She touched the instrument reverently. The case was made of mahogany inlaid with walnut, simple but elegant. She opened the lid, carefully positioning the prop, and ran her fingers over the keys. ‘It’s utterly beautiful.’

  ‘They said you’d want the underside of the lid painted, that most ladies preferred something more ornate, but I thought...’

  Estelle smiled, shaking her head. ‘Your instincts were right. I much prefer this.’

  ‘Go on, try it out.’

  ‘I’m dying to, but there’s no time. Our guests will be arriving any minute.’ But she couldn’t resist, and was already seated. ‘Now I know why you told me not to put my gloves on. I’ll keep it brief.’

  ‘Bach,’ Aidan said when she had finished. ‘Minuet in G Major, I do believe. It sounds as if it’s in perfect tune.’

  ‘You are quite right, it is. You have a good ear for someone who sings like a distressed Wicklow lamb.’ She sighed, closing the lid. ‘It’s a magnificent instrument. My gift is going to look very insignificant compared to this. Close your eyes and hold out your hands. There, you can look now.’

  ‘Estelle! Is this the globe that Phoebe gave you? I can’t possibly take it.’

  ‘I want you to have it. I had Aunt Kate send it from Elmswood. See, there is Notre Dame Cathedral. I wanted to commission a similar one of Florence, but there was no time.’

  ‘I will look at Notre Dame and think of the Duomo. And I’ll look at the Seine and think of the Arno. And instead of the Pont Neuf, I’ll imagine you and me standing on the Ponte alla Carraia watching the sun go down as we did that first day. Do you remember?’

  ‘How could I possibly forget.’

  He set the globe down carefully on a side table. ‘I’ll put this in my room later. Thank you.’

  ‘Happy birthday, Aidan.’ She pressed a kiss to his lips. A fleeting kiss, it was meant to be, but their lips clung, and his hand went around her waist, and hers around his neck. And then the doorbell clanged.

  * * *

  ‘At last! Have you any idea how much forbearance I’ve had to show in order to stay away for these last few weeks? I’d have thought that you’d want to introduce your nearest and dearest to your new wife before the masses, but Finn was quite adamant you wanted to be left in peace. Noel will be with us in a moment, I ran ahead. Are we first to arrive? I hoped we would be.’

  ‘Clodagh, it is good to see you.’ Aidan surprised his sister by giving her a hug. ‘You’re looking well. Estelle, this as you’ll have gathered is my sister Clodagh.’

  ‘Goodness, you look very like your brother.’ Estelle dropped a curtsy and extended your hand. ‘How do you do?’

  ‘How do you do?’ Clodagh took Estelle’s hand, smiling warmly. ‘I am very glad to meet you at last. You won’t mind my saying that you are very different from Aoife.’

  ‘Clodagh!’

  ‘Everyone will be itching to compare them, Aidan,’ she retorted, ‘there’s no point pretending otherwise. So it’s a very good thing indeed that Estelle is so very different.’

  Aidan had almost persuaded himself that Finn was right when he said that tonight’s guests would be far too interested in meeting Estelle to talk about his first wife, but here was Clodagh, talking about her before she’d even taken her cloak off. ‘I don’t think that’s a subject Estelle wants to dwell on, tonight of all nights,’ he said through gritted teeth.

  ‘Estelle isn’t offended, are you Estelle?’ Without waiting for an answer, Clodagh continued, ‘No, I thought not. Your dress is quite lovely. Paris?’

  ‘My sister, actually.’

  ‘Your sister! My goodness, she is very talented, and you wear it very well, I hope you don’t mind my saying. You are quite voluptuous, aren’t you? Cook will be pleased to have someone who actually eats the food she puts on the table. Aoife was one of those women who claimed that looking at food made her full.’ Clodagh beamed. ‘I think Estelle and I are going to be the best of friends. Ah, here is Noel. Come and be introduced to Aidan’s surprisingly ravishing new wife.’

  * * *

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Aidan said, when Clodagh had taken herself and her long-suffering husband off to inspect the arrangements. ‘My sister has all the tact of a Dublin docker.’

  ‘I liked her, and what she said is perfectly true. It’s only natural that people will attempt to draw comparisons.’

  ‘They’ll be wasting their time. There is no comparison.’

  He’d worked so hard these last few weeks to keep his doubts about this party under control. Seeing Estelle throwing herself into the arrangements, determined to make her mark on both Cashel Duairc and local society, he’d persuaded himself that Finn was right, that no one would be interested in the first Mrs Malahide when faced with the second. But what if the old rumours began to circulate? Ought he to warn her? No, that would put her on the alert, and there was still a chance she might hear nothing untoward.

  Down in the hallway, the arrival of the next guests took the decision out of his hands. ‘Forget my tactless sister,’ Aidan said. ‘Be yourself, and you can’t fail to charm everyone.’

  * * *

  Several hours later, Estelle had run out of reserves of charm. The last of their guests had left half an hour ago. Clodagh and Noel, who were spending the night, had finally retired. She’d sent the servants to their beds, postponing the clearing up until the morning. Aidan had muttered something about locking up.

  She perched on the parapet of the narrow balcony which fronted the Gothic Salon, gazing out at the gardens. The moon was a quarter full, casting an eerie light on the lake, while the ruined tower was nothing more than a dark shadow. She’d discovered a rusty iron r
ing on the shore down there a few days ago, where a boat had once been moored. It was a shame that it was no longer there, for even if the tower was too dangerous to permit a visit to the island, it would be pleasant to take a sail on the lake.

  ‘I assumed that you’d gone to bed.’

  ‘I needed some fresh air after all that socialising.’

  ‘Good idea.’ Aidan perched down beside her. ‘I think it’s safe to say that went well, thanks to you.’

  ‘Although there were moments when I felt like I was being inspected like a prime piece of horseflesh. “Now I know what he sees in you, m’dear,”’ Estelle mimicked. ‘Addressed for the most part to my cleavage, not my face. One of the so-called gentlemen actually pinched my bottom.’

  Aidan’s brows snapped together. ‘I sincerely hope you are not being serious, or his own bottom will feel the full weight of my boot.’

  ‘I’m joking,’ she lied hastily, seeing his thunderous expression. ‘There were, however, a few not-so-subtle attempts to discover my pedigree. “Brannagh. I’m not sure that’s a name I’ve come across. Would that be a family from the west?” That kind of thing. Thankfully no one seems to have encountered my parents. I suppose I could have confounded them with talk of my sister, the Countess of Fearnoch.’

  Aidan reached for her hand. ‘You must know, from the number of invitations we’ve been promised, that you stole the show. I was proud of you tonight, Estelle. I heard one comment over and over again that I agree with wholeheartedly. I’m a very lucky man.’

  ‘Why thank you, Aidan, what a lovely thing to say.’

  He lifted her hand to his lips. ‘It happens to be true.’

  Now that the party was over, she could see that he also felt a weight had fallen from his shoulders. Clodagh’s tactless if true remarks had set him on edge, and for the whole time they’d stood in the hallway receiving their guests, she sensed him poised to intervene at the slightest hint of a reference to his first wife. ‘So glad to see that Aidan has finally put his tragedy behind him’ and ‘You are not at all what we had imagined’ had been the closest anyone had come in his hearing, as far as she could tell. But she had been aware, when circulating alone, of conversations abruptly changing tack. And one mysterious reference, overheard, to the tragic loss of the first Mrs Malahide as being inexplicable.

  Now, however, was not the time to mention any of those things, not when Aidan seemed finally able to do what he so fervently wished, to consign his first marriage to the past. A huge wave of relief made her aware of just how worried she had been. It was quickly followed by a gust of happiness, bringing a beaming smile to her face. ‘This finally feels like the first day of the rest of our lives,’ she said.

  ‘I do believe it is,’ Aidan said, returning her smile. He got to his feet, pulling her into his arms, burrowing his face into her neck, holding her so tightly she could hardly breathe. Estelle wrapped her arms around his waist, sighing with contentment. ‘It’s a beautiful night. Look at the stars. I know it’s trite, but they really do look like sparkling diamonds in the sky.’

  ‘I think the brightest star in the heavens has fallen into my arms.’

  She lifted her head, smiling up at him.

  ‘Trite,’ he said sheepishly, ‘but also true.’ And then, to her utter relief, he kissed her.

  It was a slow, sensuous kiss, leading to another, and then another, leading very quickly to burning, searing, scorching kisses. Kisses that had been far too long suppressed. They clung to each other, lips and hands, kissing wildly, deeply, endlessly. There was no control in their kisses, no savouring, but a hunger, a craving that would not be satisfied by kisses alone, a primal need to lose themselves in each other, that excluded all else.

  They kissed, and she clung to him, and he pulled her tight, his hands on her bottom as they half-stumbled, half-staggered back into the salon. The hard ridge of his arousal sent a deep shiver through her. He wanted her as much as she wanted him. He kissed her neck. His hands cupped her breasts. Her nipples ached. She undid the buttons of his waistcoat, feeling the heat of his skin through his shirt, and wanting more. He shrugged himself out of both his coat and waistcoat. He loosened the fastenings of her gown, enough to expose more of her breasts, pressing hot kisses on to them, making her moan, making her want still more.

  She managed to wriggle out of her gown. She tugged his shirt free, running her hands over his skin. Smooth belly. Rippling muscles. Rough hair on his chest. Hard nipples. He shuddered when she touched them. She touched him again, because it fed the heat inside her when he shuddered.

  He loosened her corset, pulling her chemise down. For a moment he stared, mesmerised by her breasts, his breathing fast, shallow, then he dipped his head, took one of her nipples in his mouth. He sucked and she shivered, and he sucked again, and she felt herself tightening, tingling, edgy with need, craving to surrender but desperate to cling on. And wanting more.

  He lifted his head, said her name, and she feared he would come to his senses. She didn’t want either of them to come to their senses, so she kissed him again, using her tongue, her hands on his back, pressing her bare breasts against his chest, sliding her hands down, to the taut slope of his buttocks, tilting her hips, excited by his hardness, heedless of everything but the driving need for more.

  They dropped to the floor, still kissing. She was on her back. He lay on his side beside her. Kissing. He had lost his shirt. She couldn’t get enough of his skin, the smoothness of it, the rough hair on his chest, the way his muscles rippled under her caress, the dip in his belly. He slid his hand under her petticoats, hesitated, moved up when she arched up towards him. She couldn’t keep still, kissing, touching, mouth on mouth, skin on skin, she was on fire with sensation. When he slid his fingers inside her she cried out with the sheer delight of it, and when he touched her, stroking, thrusting, sliding, she cried out, a harsh sound she barely recognised, tumbling suddenly, uncontrollably, over the edge, her muscles tightening around him, her hands clutching at his shoulders, saying his name over and over, And when he let her go, she instinctively pulled him towards her, wanting the weight of him on top of her, wrapping her legs around him, though there were still trousers and petticoats and pantaloons between them.

  He lay for a moment on top of her, then he rolled away on to his back, his chest heaving. ‘There’s only so much a man can take.’

  She had never felt more alive. Her blood fizzed. Her body was positively singing, making no effort to disguise her delight. ‘I didn’t know that this was what I was missing.’

  Aidan gazed at her for a long moment, looking quite stunned. And then he laughed, pulling her on top of him, kissing her, a long, slow kiss. ‘Neither did I.’

  * * *

  Clodagh and Noel were still abed, leaving Estelle to have breakfast alone with Aidan. ‘Isn’t it a lovely day?’ she said pouring her tea.

  He glanced out of the window, where the sky was overcast, leaden with rain that was not yet falling. He grinned. ‘Beautiful. All the same, I think it might be prudent to think about moving tonight’s banquet into one of the barns.’

  ‘Oh, no, let’s keep it al fresco, I’m sure the sun will come out. I must admit, I’ll be glad when tonight is behind us. Two parties in two days is more than I’ve been to in two years.’ Estelle wrinkled her nose. ‘Or perhaps five. I’m not really much of a party-goer.’

  ‘One of the many reasons I was so proud of you last night. You’re actually quite shy, though you cover it up well.’

  ‘I hide behind my role as the family comedienne.’

  ‘You became the entertainer because you couldn’t cook or sew.’

  Estelle set her cup down, taken aback. ‘I didn’t know I was quite so transparent.’

  ‘I’m just fiendishly observant.’ Aidan pushed his empty plate away. ‘Estelle, about last night...’

  ‘Must we talk about that? Can’t we put it down to cele
brating our successful launch into County Kildare society?’

  ‘I agree, there was an element of that, but we very nearly lost all self-control.’

  ‘And I’m well aware that I am the one who said we had to control our urges in the first place.’ She swallowed the last of her tea. ‘The problem is, if you must have it, that I am finding I want to lose control with you. And when I do, it is so very delightful that I can’t help wanting to do it again. Now I’ve embarrassed you.’

  ‘I’m not embarrassed, Estelle.’

  ‘Your face is red.’

  ‘It might be, but not because I’m embarrassed.’

  ‘Oh.’ Her cheeks flamed, but not because she was embarrassed either. They gazed at each other across the table. If she made the first move, he would follow her lead. But he would not make the first move. Damn, why did he have to be so honourable! ‘Do you think it’s better to resist or submit? Which do you think is most likely to make us become indifferent sooner?’

  ‘That is what is known in a court of law as a leading question.’ Aidan got to his feet. ‘I’ve a host of things to do before tonight. When Clodagh and Noel finally appear, have someone fetch me, I’ll be in the estate office.’

  He made to kiss her cheek, caught himself, shook his head ruefully and left. Smiling inanely at the closed door, it took a maid returning for the breakfast plates to rouse Estelle. Outside, the clouds were starting to clear. Informing the maid that she’d be in her parlour when their guests came down, she made her way there and pulled her latest list purposefully towards her. But she couldn’t settle.

  The glass dome had gone from her side table. Aidan must have taken it up to his bedchamber. She sat down at her harpsichord and began to practice scales. Now that Aidan had finally buried his ghosts, the future positively sparkled. True, she still didn’t quite understand what, precisely, had made him so edgy last night, what he was so patently worried would be said. The most likely explanation was that he didn’t want the shadow of his first wedding party to eclipse his second. Estelle moved up an octave and played another scale. In fact that was so obvious she didn’t know why she was looking for another reason.