Sacrificing the Untamed Lady Henrietta: A Historical Regency Romance Novel

by Hamilton, Hanna

  “Turn to the side,” he instructed her gently.

  A surprised look crossed her face. However, she did as he had asked, turning her body to the side and bringing herself closer to the edge of the chaise. Still kneeling before her, he reached up to the buttons that lined the back of the marigold dress. His fingers worked deftly, showing no hint of nerves, though his heart was pounding in his chest.

  Carefully, he pulled the two sides apart and slid them to the farthest tip of her shoulders, exposing her back. A half-corset sat across her ribcage, the ties bound tight. Slowly, he reached his hands up, tracing his fingertips across the smooth, pale skin between her shoulder-blades. I am merely helping her with her injury, nothing more.

  “Your hands are cold,” she murmured, her gaze turned towards the fire.

  “Sorry,” he whispered, blowing onto his hands to warm them up before returning them to the smooth expanse of her bare skin. She did not stiffen or balk at his touch.

  Trying to ignore the intimacy of the moment, he took the ties of her half-corset and began to unlace them. He could feel every breath she took, hearing the ragged draw of each one as he loosened the corset. To him, it appeared like a torture device, restricting her ribs in such a savage way. He understood why ladies used them, but Henrietta had a lovely figure without it.

  Stop… you must not think of her in that way.

  The moment reminded him of one he had shared with Patricia, a few days after their wedding night. They had been more comfortable with one another then, more attuned to each other’s thoughts and desires. He had unlaced her corset in this manner and had placed the tenderest of kisses on the curve of her neck. He wanted to do the same to Henrietta, but he could not bring himself to lean in and touch his lips to her skin. He had vowed not to.

  Soon, the half-corset was unlaced in its entirety. With steady hands, he slipped it out from beneath her dress, allowing her to maintain her dignity as he cast it to one side. He removed his hands quickly, folding them behind his back.

  A knock at the door shattered the strange tension between them. Ewan rose and crossed the room, answering it with some annoyance. His mind was racing, his thoughts uncertain.

  “My Lord, Mr. Chambers has sent me up to draw a bath for your lady wife,” the maid on the other side explained.

  He nodded. “Have it set up in the other room.”

  “Very good, My Lord.” With that, she scurried off to the other door.

  Taking a shaky breath, Ewan turned back and looked at his wife, perched on the edge of the chaise with her back elegantly bent half towards him. He swallowed, unable to deny her beauty in the firelight. She looked otherworldly, her chin tilted up, the flames flickering in her blue eyes.

  “Why did you do that?” she asked quietly.

  “I thought you might prefer it,” he replied. “I will stay in here whilst you bathe, to give you some privacy.”

  He walked over to the adjoining doors and closed them, muffling the distant rattles of the maid preparing Henrietta’s bath. He did not want anyone to disturb this unexpectedly tender moment between them.

  As he made his way towards her once more, he picked her nightgown off the bed. She eyed it curiously.

  “I do not plan to rest, my Lord Marquess,” she said. “I will bathe and then we will dine with my mother and father.”

  “This is so I may check on your injuries,” he explained. “Wrap it around yourself, though leave your ribs exposed if you can. I must assess the damage myself, otherwise I will not be able to rest. You say you can manage this on your own, but your face would say different. You are in a great deal of pain, Henrietta. I can see that you are.”

  “It is not appropriate, my Lord Marquess.”

  “I do not care for propriety at this moment, My Lady. My sole concern is for your welfare.”

  She dropped her gaze. “Turn your back.”

  “As you wish.” He twisted around until he was facing the adjoining doors, listening out for the rustle of her dress as she removed it. He forced himself not to picture her in any untoward manner, no matter how difficult the task proved to be.

  “I am ready,” she said quietly. He turned back towards her, to find her lying on her side, atop the chaise, with the nightgown wrapped around her chest. She had her petticoat on, but the flat line of her stomach was exposed, along with the delicate features of her collarbone and shoulders. She had draped one arm across her chest, to further conceal anything.

  He knelt at her side and lifted his hands to the wounded portion of her ribcage. It was clear to see where the injury had taken place, for her skin was dappled with deep blues and grays, peppered with livid red and purples, the edges fading into yellow.

  “Does this hurt?” he asked, pressing gently.

  She winced. “Yes.”

  “And this?” He moved down her ribs.

  “Not as much.”

  “And here?” He touched the curve where her left rib gave way to her diaphragm.

  “No, it is only where you first pressed.”

  The bruising was much darker there, the skin almost black. Before he knew what he was doing, he lifted her fingertips to his lips and kissed them, before pressing a secondary kiss lightly to the damaged ribs. She froze for a split second, before her body relaxed at his touch. He did the same for the second and third of the bruised ribs, being careful to include every injury.

  “Am I a child, to have my hurt kissed away?” she asked, her tone slightly teasing. He glanced at her, his heart thudding hard as he noted the twinkly spark in her eyes.

  “That depends—is it working?”

  “It makes it easier to forget that I have been injured.”

  He traced his fingertips there again, smoothing his thumb across the unsettling pattern that the bruise had caused. It looked so stark against the pale complexion of her side. Indeed, he truly wished he could kiss it all away.

  “And if I were to tell you that my lips smarted?” she said, her expression shy.

  “I would have to kiss them, too.” He smiled nervously. “Tell me, Henrietta, do they hurt?”

  She nodded. “A small pain.”

  He leaned over, bracing himself against the edge of the chaise. Tentatively, he cupped her face in his free hand, wondering if he ought to. She had invited him to kiss her, and yet, he wasn’t sure what to do. If he kissed her now, would that change everything? Would that desecrate the memory of the love he had lost?

  All of a sudden, she reached up and looped her arms around his neck. The jolt pulled him forward, his mouth catching hers quite by accident. He did not move for what seemed like a lifetime, his thoughts all over the place. And then, despite everything, the world fell away from him. He pulled her closer to him, careful not to hurt her further, and closed his eyes. Thinking only of her, he sank into the graze of her lips against his.

  Chapter 28

  Henrietta lay in the tin bath and touched her fingertips to her lips, the phantom pressure of Ewan’s kiss still lingering on them. She had not expected it, but it had not been an unpleasant experience. In fact, it had been quite the opposite.

  You should not have invited such a thing, she scolded herself. You have ruined the equilibrium that existed between you both. Now, you have changed it all. There is no going back now, not unless you wish to wound him with rejection. She could not see herself doing that.

  A knock at the adjoining door startled her out of her reverie.

  “Henrietta?” Ewan’s voice echoed from beyond it.

  “Yes?”

  He chuckled. “I just wanted to check you had not drowned, for you have been in there an ungodly amount of time.”

  “I am soaking my injuries,” she replied.

  “Very well, but we ought to be heading down to dinner soon.”

  “I shall get out now,” she promised, thinking again of the way he had kissed her. The pressured graze of his mouth on hers and the manner in which his fingertips had traced invisible lines across the curve of her waist.


  What if he rejects me? The thought made her shiver, for she did not think she would be able to bear such a prospect. It would be worse than never knowing his kiss.

  Hurriedly, she clambered out of the tub and picked up her bathrobe. Tying the belt around her waist, she opened the adjoining door and stepped back into her chambers. Ewan sat on the chaise, gazing into the fire. He looked up with a smile as she entered, alleviating any of her former fears. Adoration remained in his eyes, which seemed like an encouraging sign. Not that you want to be encouraged, Henrietta! A kiss is quite enough.

  “There was something I wanted to talk to you about,” she said hastily, feeling marginally exposed in nothing but her robe.

  He arched an amused eyebrow. “Oh?”

  “Not about that, if that is what you were thinking,” she chided. “I have been having some thoughts about the Mr. Booth situation.” They had discussed the meeting with Isobel, in the carriage on the way back to the Old Bell, and neither of them had been particularly overjoyed by the revelation that Seth had been telling the truth about his family. Still, it had not allayed any of their former suspicions. It only meant that he had used alternative means to put Henrietta in harm’s way.

  “You have?”

  She nodded. “This ball at Scampston Hall—might we use it to entrap Mr. Booth? If he discovers that I will be attending, we may be assured that he will attempt to strike at me. All we will have to do is keep our eyes on him and stop him before he can do anything. That way, we will catch him in the act.”

  “I will not use you as bait, Henrietta.”

  “But it is the only way to put an end to this, once and for all.”

  He pulled a doubtful face. “I do not like it.”

  “I will be perfectly safe with you watching over me. Indeed, if we tell my mother and father of what has been happening, then my father will also be able to watch me,” she explained. “He might not be good at paternal instincts, but he has a military mind. He will know better than any of us where Mr. Booth will be likely to make another attempt on me.”

  “The parkland is much too exposed, even in the outside ballroom there,” Ewan replied. “You could be snatched, and we would have no way of knowing where you had been taken to.”

  “My father can send for his men. He can station them throughout the parkland of Scampston Hall, in the event that something should happen. All possible exits will be covered, thus leading to Mr. Booth’s capture.”

  “How can you be sure that Mr. Booth will strike then?”

  “It will be too tempting for him not to. I will be served up on a silver platter.” She smiled at him. “And, if he does not, then we have lost nothing. We can simply enjoy the ball.”

  He tutted. “I still do not like it.”

  “Neither do I, but once this is all done with, we can enjoy our lives without the fear of this threat looming over us,” she replied gently. “You see, no matter where we go, this will follow us. We must put an end to it, as soon as we can.”

  “And you are sure that your father has such men at his beck-and-call?”

  “If he can utilize them to keep me a prisoner in my own home, he can certainly use them to keep me safe,” she said. “He owes me that much, after everything he has done.”

  “It has not been so bad, has it?” A boyish vulnerability leaked into his words, as though he were testing the waters of her affection.

  “It is better than I could have expected,” she admitted, a shy smile on her face.

  “You do not regret that I kissed you?”

  She shook her head slowly. “I do not.”

  Relief seemed to wash over him. “I am glad to hear it.”

  “Do you regret it?”

  “I hardly dare admit it, but… no, I do not.”

  “Then, kiss me again so that I may dress for dinner,” she said mischievously. “I am in need of further care to ease my pain enough to prepare for such an engagement.”

  He laughed and rose from the chaise, moving over to her. She had forgotten how tall and broad he was, his arms encircling her with ease as he held her close. A flutter of anxiety made her heart patter, her breath catching in her throat as she waited for his kiss. With one arm clasped around her waist, he tilted her chin up and pressed his lips to hers. This time, she did not freeze, not even for a second.

  I could get used to this, she thought, letting her worries melt away.

  * * *

  “We were starting to get worried,” Aaron announced, as Ewan and Henrietta appeared at the entrance to the lounge.

  “You needn’t concern yourself, Papa,” Henrietta replied evenly. “I am here, as you see me, and I am feeling refreshed. My husband has seen to my injuries, and all appears to be well.” Her cheeks felt hot at the secret truth that bristled between her and Ewan.

  Aaron cleared his throat. “Well then, shall we go into dinner?”

  “I think that would be a splendid idea,” Ewan replied pleasantly, acting as peacekeeper alongside Tabitha.

  They moved through to the dining room as a quartet and were seated by the window. Evening had fallen, a sliver of moonlight poking through the rainclouds that had gathered over the sea. Regardless, Henrietta thought Scarborough looked beautiful in the gloomy light. Lamps glowed in the near-distance, illuminating the seaside town in the most wonderful way. It looked positively picturesque.

  As soon as they were seated, Henrietta gathered her courage. “Actually, Papa, it is somewhat fortuitous that you have arrived at this moment in time,” she said politely.

  He looked stunned by the revelation. “It is?”

  “Yes, because there is something that we must divulge to you,” she went on, knowing that if she paused, she would lose her resolve. “And it will require your assistance, in the near future.”

  “You cannot be with child already. It is impossible!” Tabitha exclaimed, a fraction too loud. It drew the curious gaze of nearby diners and prompted Henrietta’s cheeks to glow like mortified beacons.

  “No, Mama, it is nothing like that,” she replied. “It is something far more serious.”

  Ewan nodded. “Yes, you see, a certain unpleasantness appears to have followed us to Scarborough. Indeed, I should say it is more than an unpleasantness, for it has put my dear wife, and your darling daughter, in a great deal of danger.”

  Aaron paled. “What kind of danger?”

  “He exaggerates,” Henrietta chided. “There have been… warnings. We did not want to worry you, but we felt we ought to tell you the truth, as Papa may be the only one who can help in this matter.”

  “What is it?” Aaron replied impatiently. Henrietta eyed him, wondering what had caused this sudden terseness. He had been all sweetness and light, not a moment ago, and now he was practically on the edge of his seat. His demeanor was very unsettling, giving rise to Henrietta’s unspoken fears.

  “A few days ago, Henrietta was almost crushed by a block of falling masonry. Although it was reported as an accident, we have since learned that there was no way that the stonework could have fallen on its own—it had to be pushed,” Ewan explained, as Henrietta continued to look at her father. She was desperately trying to figure out the whorl of expressions that twisted his face into a mask of despair.

  “My goodness.” Tabitha clasped her hand to her mouth.

  “The incident with the horse also appears to have been anything but an accident,” Ewan continued. “Gunshots were fired very close to where we were picnicking, and it spooked the horse. We knew there was a hunting party in the nearby woodland, but even so, the shots were much too close to be them. At least, these are our suspicions. We have no evidence, as yet.”

  Henrietta nodded. “And I received a note, not too long ago. Initially, I kept it from my Lord Marquess, but I have since revealed its existence to him.”

  “What did it say?” Aaron squeaked.

  “It mentioned my interest in the medical profession and informed me that harm would come to me if I did not withdraw my letters. W
hoever wrote the note also warned me to be careful, because they were watching me,” she replied. “They signed it with “A Friend” although the note was anything but friendly.”

  “Yes, and we have reason to believe that we know who the culprit is,” Ewan added.

  Aaron looked as though he were about to explode. “You do?”

  “Mr. Booth,” Henrietta replied. “We encountered him upon our arrival in Scarborough, and he has taken up a position at the house of Lord Averson—an acquaintance of my husband. The note came to me here at the Old Bell, not long after that encounter.”