by Bree Verity
Theo’s eyes swiveled to Quincey, who shrugged and nodded his head.
Theo emptied his brandy glass and, with a formal incline of his head said, “Gentlemen, in that case, I bid you adieu. I can only hope that there will be a better reception awaiting me tonight in my chambers than the one I have received from your good selves.”
He stood up and walked away from the group, his dignified exit marred by the laughing rejoinder of Lord Ridgely.
“I hope so, Theo, for your sake.”
* * *
Even later that evening, Theo gently rapped on the door of Caroline’s bedchamber.
“Mrs. Longshore?”
Caroline’s maid, Gertie opened the door, peeking out from behind it. Theo flushed. It was quite likely that Gertie knew exactly his intentions when he came knocking at his wife’s door late in the evening.
“Is Mrs. Longshore here tonight? Or did she sleep with her mother again?”
“No, Sir, she is here tonight.”
“Is she asleep?”
“No, Sir. But she is abed.”
“Good.” Theo brushed past Gertie and into the room. “You are excused for the evening, Gertie.”
With a bobbed curtsy and a giggle, Gertie fled the room, probably, Theo thought wryly, to run downstairs to tell all the servants that he was about to seduce his wife.
He peered further into the room. The candles had not been extinguished, and Caroline lay on her side away from him tucked under the blankets, her hair tied in a long plait that lay behind her.
“Who was it Gertie?” he heard her muffled, sleepy voice ask.
“It was me.”
She turned over, obviously startled to hear his voice. He watched in amusement as her expression gave away each of the emotions that crossed her - surprise, pleasure, worry, anxiety and then, to his surprise, a little bit of anger.
“What are you doing here?” she asked bluntly, sitting up in her bed and pulling the blankets around her shoulders.
“There are very few reasons why a gentleman would come to visit his wife in the evening,” he replied, coming further into the room and removing his coat, laying it over the back of the chair at her dressing table. “I suspect you have a reasonably good idea already of why I might be here.”
“Yes, I suppose I do,” she replied, but her brow remained furrowed.
“You are not afraid, are you?” Theo asked gently. She scowled at him and sat up straighter in the bed, her chin thrust forward.
“Of course not. I merely feel a little distaste.”
“Distaste?” Theo smiled. “My dear, in a very short time I can cure you of that.”
“No, not of the action itself,” Caroline continued, flushing a little. “I feel… like a head of cattle.”
“Cattle?”
“Well, that is all that I am, really, is it not? Breeding stock that you have purchased to improve your herd?”
Theo was thoroughly confused. “Herd? What ever are you talking about?”
She sighed, clearly irritated, and said, “I find it unpleasant that I have been bought.”
“But you have not been bought.”
Caroline seemed taken aback. “There was no exchange of funds between you and Uncle Harold?”
Theo’s brows drew together. “He told you about that?”
“About what?”
“Your Uncle tried to include a fee in the marriage contracts for himself. I refused to pay it.”
Now Caroline seemed confused.
“Then why was he so insistent on our marriage?”
Theo shrugged, then grinned impishly.
“I do not know, however I find myself quite pleased that he was so insistent.”
Theo had already left his cravat and waistcoat in his own chamber with Harris, who had given him a cheeky smile and a raised eyebrow in return. He unbuttoned some of the buttons on his shirt and kicked off his slippers. Sitting down beside his wife, he took her braid, which had ended up over the front of her shoulder and removed the ribbon from the end of it. The hair slithered apart with only gentle encouragement from him, rearranging itself into a vanilla-scented cloud around her face.
With his hands embedded in her dark hair, Theo could do nothing more than to lean in and kiss her. He noticed her lips trembling.
With a gentle smile he took his hands out of his wife’s hair and swiveled his body around so that he was laying on his side beside his wife. He propped his head up with one hand and stared at her, letting the heat of his arousal show in the smoldering of his eyes. He ran a finger down her arm and was pleased to see an answering shudder.
Emboldened, he continued his exploration, his hand working its way from arm to hand and then to where her leg rested under the covers. She gasped at the intimate touch.
But Caroline was not seduced so easily it seemed. She drew her legs away. “Sir Theodore,” she started formally.
“Theo.”
“Sir Theodore.” Her words were firm. “Before we cement this relationship, I wish to gain at least one small concession from you.”
Theo’s brow rose. The little minx had already learned how to use her sex as a weapon. Were women born with the skill?
“And what concession might that be?”
“I am only too happy to run your household and bear your children,” replied Caroline, her chocolate eyes smoking. “However, I am fit for so much more, if only you would let me be involved in my own investments.”
“I do not wish it,” replied Theo testily, emphasizing each word. “How is it that you cannot understand this?”
“Because I cannot understand someone who would refuse the assistance of another who is not only experienced in the matter, but also interested,” Caroline retorted. “If I were a man and offering you my assistance, you would jump at the chance.”
“If you were a man, I would not be married to you.”
“And if I were a man, this entire situation would not even be an issue.”
Caroline crossed her arms over her chest.
Theo sighed again. He was beginning to wonder if this was an argument he could ever actually win. Of course, he could just insist on his wife’s compliance. But that was not his way. His own parents’ marriage had been one of love and harmony, right up until the day his father died. And he desperately wanted his marriage to be similar.
Perhaps the modern woman did not quite conform to the image he had in his mind of a dutiful wife. What with the ideals of the enlightenment, and the publishing of pamphlets such as Beauty’s Triumph, women seemed to be changing, and perhaps not in the most amiable of ways. Mrs. Wollstonecraft’s essay A Vindication of the Rights of Women, had been particularly well received, and even now was studied by a good proportion of young women with an agenda beyond that of family and domesticity.
Was he wrong to insist that his wife remain housebound? Especially since she had not had that restriction previously?
Ruefully, Theo realized that the state of his body was as much to blame for his consideration of such things as his thoughts. He lay beside his lovely young wife, who was still pure, despite their being married for three days. Theo had thought about her introduction into the delights of the marriage bed often in those days, and in the weeks prior as the banns were being read.
Surely it would not hurt to give her some indication that he would at least listen to her thoughts? He need not act on them, or even really listen to them, if it came to that. And if the concession made his wife more congenial tonight, well, then, it would be worth it.
“Very well.”
Caroline’s head swiveled toward him; her eyes distrustful.
“If it means so much to you, we can discuss the papers in the morning over breakfast.”
“Really?” Caroline’s ire dissipated, replaced by shining eyed, rosy cheeked excitement.
“Yes really. But only over breakfast. I do not wish to be discussing business all day and night.”
“No, of course.”
“And if I s
ay we are done, we are done.”
“Certainly.”
“And if I say no to a certain thread of conversation, you must not pursue it.”
Caroline paused for only an infinitesimal second before she replied, “Very well.”
“Very well then,” Theo concluded magnanimously. “It is settled.”
He was pleased to see the smile on Caroline’s face, however there was still an air of shrewd consideration about her that concerned him a little. She seemed to be about to ask more questions, but he spoke before she could frame them.
“Caroline?”
“Yes?”
“You do understand why I am here in your bedchamber?”
She blushed adorably and he hoped all thoughts of business had left her head. “Of course.”
“Are you willing?”
Her blush deepened, and Theo saw her swallow nervously. “Yes, I am willing.”
“Good. Then let me show you the delights of the marriage bed.”
Chapter Eight.
It was a stunning day that had led into a lovely, crisp evening, and Theo had decided to walk home rather than flag down a carriage. Freddie had walked with him partway, and they had enjoyed some convivial conversation, unrelated to business before Freddie veered off to his own house a few blocks before Theo’s.
Theo whistled as he walked along, swinging the umbrella that Benton had pressed into his hand that morning. He looked forward to walking through his front door and greeting his wife. Their relationship had blossomed since they had consummated the marriage - but Theo knew it had as much to do with allowing Caroline conversation about business as it did the new physicality of their relationship. He smiled to himself. Caroline had shown that she had a good grasp of investment principles. She didn’t always reach the same conclusions as he, sometimes allowing her sensibilities to get in the way of good business sense, but all in all, he was proud of her acumen.
It felt good to have a clever wife. He could speak of her astuteness to his associates, impressing them with her conclusions. Despite his earlier thoughts, it seemed there was no humiliation in having a bride with a mind of her own. Certainly, Freddie was taken with her, and Ridgely and Quentin looked forward to making her acquaintance.
Too late, Theo noticed he was surrounded by three rough-looking men. In the gathering dark of the evening, before the streetlamps had been lit, their faces seemed sinister, their eyes glinting.
“I have no money on me,” said Theo, working to keep his voice from wavering. “I left my pocketbook back at my office.”
“It ain’t money we want,” replied one of the thugs in a gravelly tone. “Someone wants to see you dead, squire.”
The man to his right rushed him, and Theo spun around, using the umbrella to deliver a cracking blow to the man’s upper arm. It broke apart immediately, causing no damage at all to his assailant, who smiled unpleasantly before launching himself at Theo.
The other two joined in the fray, throwing punches at Theo’s head and chest that he tried desperately to avoid. Someone’s fist connected with his cheek. The pain was instant and explosive, and Theo, his teeth having pierced the inside of his cheek, spat out a mouthful of blood. He wavered on his feet, his eyes filling with tears. It took only one more blow to the jaw for Theo to fall.
But his beating was not yet complete. The thugs continued on, kicking him over and over again, seeming to take delight in sinking their boots into his tender flesh. He heard as well as felt one of his ribs break, and he howled in pain, but that only seemed to send the thugs into a frenzy, their boots assailing him again and again. This one kicked at his legs, another his stomach, and the third seemed to be aiming directly for his head.
From what seemed like a long distance away, Theo heard one of the thugs say, “Now, to business.” He cracked an eye open, only to find the man leering over him, a long, wicked blade glinting in the last rays of the sun. He closed his eyes again, waiting for the blade to pierce his skin and end his life.
Instead, he heard, “What the?” and a thump.
Forcing his eyelids open, he saw one of the thugs fly through the air and crash into the solid trunk of one of the oaks lining the street. The others, he noticed, took one look at their friend and legged it out of there.
And just before his eyes closed again, wobbly in his vision he saw two faces, one dark and one fair, incredibly beautiful and with concern in their eyes and, were those wings? He must have gone to heaven. A smile crossed his face as he drifted away.
Theo lay, semi-conscious on the cobblestones, curled up, instinctively protecting his vital organs. From what seemed far away he heard a carriage stop, and a voice say, “Are you alright there guv’nor?” Another voice, much more cultivated than the first, said, “Why, that’s Sir Theodore Longshore! Theo, are you alright, old man?” Theo wanted to say something scathing to the person - of course he wasn’t alright. “Help him into the carriage, won’t you?” said the cultivated voice. “But he’ll spill blood all over me upholst’ry,” the other man whined. “Believe me, you will be well compensated. Now hurry up, man! We have to get him home.” Someone lifted him from under his arms and he tried to fight them. “Easy, sir, easy. We ain’t here to harm you.” The action of lifting moved his ribs and he screamed from the sudden, intense pain. He very gladly slipped into oblivion.
* * *
Already concerned by Theo’s lateness, Caroline was surprised to hear Benton exclaim, “Sir!” Then she heard some kind of discussion in the doorway, and the sharp voice of the butler shouted, “We need some assistance here!”
Caroline rushed out of the front room.
There in the doorway, Sir Theo was being carried inside by a stranger. He was covered in blood.
To her immense relief, Theo groaned. At least he was not dead, although the pallor in his face was of great concern. At least that part of his face that was not smeared in blood or mud. Caroline took charge of the situation.
“Harris, I need you and Benton to carry Sir Theo up to his bed chamber. You,” she turned to one young footman who was looking decidedly queasy, “I need you to go fetch the doctor.” He nodded and was gone in an instant. “And James,” she turned to the other footman, “I need you to procure boiled water and long strips of linen.” He, too, left with a quick nod.
The manservant and the butler lifted Sir Theo as gently as they could, but he still cried out in pain. Opening his eyes for a moment, he said faintly, “I can walk by myself.”
“You most certainly cannot,” snapped Caroline as her husband sagged between the two servants. “And even if you could, we need to get you to bed immediately.” She nodded to the servants, who half carried, half shuffled Theo up the stairs and to his chamber.
Caroline hurried back into the parlor for a moment.
“Mama, I am just with Sir Theo for a short while. Dinner will be a little late.”
At her mother’s vague nod, Caroline swept up her embroidery scissors, and hurried up the stairs.
Caroline asked the two servants to sit Theo up, so they could remove his coat and shirt. She needed to see the extent of his injuries. With a nod, Benton and Harris lifted their master to a sitting position. He roared in pain, and then fell back into insensibility. The servants were forced to hold him in place.
Caroline cut away Theo’s coat and shirt with no regard for them. They were already torn and filthy anyway, and more than likely headed for the furnace.
Lifting his shirt away, Caroline drew in a breath through her teeth. Deep bruises spoke of broken ribs beneath. Caroline listened to Theo breathe for a moment and was pleased that she could not hear any errant gurgling, and that he didn’t seem to be labored in his breathing. It was a good sign that his ribs were merely cracked, not broken and that his lungs were not affected.
His forearm, however, was definitely broken. The bone stuck up at a strange angle, although it had not pierced the skin.
The footman brought the hot water and linen strips, and also Mrs. Benton, wh
o carried a bag with her containing a number of salves and ointments. Without a word she went to work, selecting a salve and applying it with careful fingers to Theo’s ribs. At Caroline’s questioning glance, she said curtly, “Knitbone.” Caroline nodded, satisfied that the woman knew what she was doing.
Caroline dipped some linen into the hot water and began patting at Theo’s bloodied face. He whimpered and a tear formed at the corner of his eye, still Caroline thought him to be unconscious. As she worked, she wondered who could have done such a thing to him. He had been beaten, that much was obvious. But by whom? And with what motive? Her brow darkened.
She uncovered a long, sluggishly-bleeding gash on his forehead and another along his cheekbone. She was afraid his cheek had been broken, but it was difficult to tell under the swelling. The doctor would need to confirm that. Both of his eyes were blackened and a cut at his jaw had dripped blood down his neck and on to his chest. Caroline cleaned it up as best she could, then went on to his hands.
She was somehow pleased to see that the knuckles on both of his hands were open and bleeding. He had put up a good fight by the looks of things.
Caroline’s temporary invigoration deserted her, and her knees collapsed under her. She leaned her head on Theo’s hand, weeping, as much in anger as in fright. Mrs. Benton stopped what she was doing and picked Caroline up, moving her away from Theo and into a chair by the door.
“No!” Caroline cried. “I wish to stay with him.”
“Do you really suppose he wishes to awaken to a wife whose eyes are red and whose nose is swollen from tears?”
Despite everything, Caroline had to laugh. “No, I suppose he wouldn’t.”
“You’ve done enough for now, Mrs. Longshore. Sit back here for a moment and let me work. The doctor will be here shortly.”
At just that moment, a loud commotion from the front door, followed by heavy footsteps up the stairs meant that the doctor had arrived. Caroline swiped the tears from her eyes as the whiskered gentleman entered the room.
“Good evening, Doctor,” she said shakily. “He has fractured ribs, a suspected fracture to the cheekbone, and a broken arm, as well as cuts and bruises to the face,” she said quickly. “I haven’t had opportunity to check his lower extremities, however he was trying to walk, so I suspect there will only be superficial injuries there.”