The Marquess Meets His Match

by Maggi Andersen

  “Why do you ask me to call you, Robert?” She sought to change the subject and lighten the mood a little. “Don’t ladies call their husbands by their title or surname?”

  His gaze returned to her mouth. “Perhaps I like to hear you say it and see your lips form my name.”

  It was the first flirtatious thing he’d said. At first surprised and pleased, she saw that he was teasing her again. “Robert,” she said, wanting to find out what he would do. With another question on her lips, he caught her to him and silenced her with a kiss.

  His lips were cool and soft, sliding across hers. When his arm tightened around her waist, her breath caught and her whole body felt odd. How extraordinary it was, how natural and intimate. With a gasp, she breathed in sandalwood, leather, and male. She’d never been clasped in a man’s arms before. And his kiss was not a peck like a relative might have given her, but a deeply probing kiss which stirred her body in an unfamiliar and deeply pleasant manner.

  When he pulled away, she almost staggered and was tempted to reach out to him. But she dropped her hands and tried to show some measure of calm acceptance as if this was an everyday occurrence. She couldn’t help hoping he would kiss her again.

  Apparently, he didn’t suffer a need for more kisses, for he smiled and turned away to untie the reins. She gazed shyly at him from beneath the brim of her hat as he gave her a leg up into the saddle.

  He seemed absorbed in his own thoughts as he mounted and reined in alongside her. They rode back to the castle, with Kate reliving the moment his arms came around her and his mouth settled over hers. She’d sought to gain his respect and make him understand that he could not take everything he wanted from her, but now feared she might have been hasty. Impossible to change her mind, for it would make her look foolish. And it would give him carte blanche to do with her as he wanted. While that caused a shiver of anticipation, it might not be wise. She should stick to her guns. She had to protect herself, and feared this man could hurt her badly if she let him.

  His gaze roamed her riding outfit as they rode across the field. “We’ll need to have a new wardrobe of clothes made. A marchioness cannot appear in society looking poverty-stricken. Some would say I kept a tight purse.”

  “Not to mention my embarrassment.” Tears filled her eyes. He was angry with her and perhaps even disappointed. Well, now she was angry with him and glad she’d made that request.

  “I didn’t mean to offend you, Kate. Surely you must agree. I would have expected you to relish a new wardrobe.”

  “Yes, I will of course.”

  “Good. Let’s give these horses a gallop.”

  The gallop was exactly what they both needed. He rode ahead on his strong stallion and she was left to admire how well he appeared in the saddle. His seat was truly splendid. She wondered how many things he excelled at. Random thoughts wandered from the playing of an instrument to his prowess in the bedchamber, and heated her face. She really must stop doing that. She was glad of the fresh cooling sea breeze as she rode up to the bridge where Robert waited.

  A gabble rose from the ducks and swans crowding beneath the willow fronds on the river. “Where will home be?” she asked, reining in beside him.

  He tipped back his hat with a finger. “I don’t plan to live here. Would you?”

  She was pleased to be considered. “I don’t mind where I live.” But not shut away in the country alone. “I love St. Malin castle. Are the other houses as charming?”

  “More comfortable. Hertfordshire is leased, at present. The house is not as old. I shall have to visit it later after I’ve attended to my more demanding business affairs. I prefer to live in London for most of the year, apart from quail shooting in autumn and the Christmas season when no one is in Town. Of course, you must come to London for the Season.”

  He had said it as an afterthought, as though he’d rather she didn’t. Kate firmed her lips, longing to give him a crushing set-down. “Perhaps I’ll live in Italy.” She tossed her head and was pleased when he swiveled to stare at her.

  “Italy?” he queried, drawing his mount alongside hers.

  “If I’m to spend most of my time alone, I fancy Italy shall suit my needs splendidly. I’ve heard it has a pleasant climate, and the people are warm. The gentlemen especially.” She urged her horse ahead of him and left him to mull over what she’d said, relishing the surprised glance he’d cast her.

  The next day, Robert departed for the Doctor’s Commons, planning to return with the special license within a sennight. Kate was left to ponder if he enjoyed escaping back to London and what he would do whilst there.

  She planned to spend the afternoons outdoors and was about to go to her chamber when the footman asked her if he could fetch her hat and shawl. “Why, thank you, James. I believe you know what I want before I do.” Kate smiled at the footman.

  People were so welcoming here. Kate hoped to delay things a little by suggesting to Robert that they had the banns read in the local church. He explained they would also have to be read in her parish and the whole thing would take far too long. Why it was such a rush was beyond her, she’d found nothing in the will to suggest a time limit had been placed on their marriage. It confirmed her suspicion that he wanted the matter dealt with before he returned to his old life.

  As the days passed, Kate investigated the castle. The library was her favorite room; the scent of old tomes made her think of her home in Oxfordshire. She spent hours there, reading by the fire with Felix stretched out on the rug beside her.

  Kate’s footsteps echoed as she walked beneath the high buttressed ceiling of the paneled great hall. She imagined a grand ball there with an orchestra in the minstrel gallery and ladies and gentlemen performing the steps of a country dance. Perhaps one day she and Robert would hold one. The responsibility of such an undertaking sent a prickle of unease through her even though she doubted it would appeal to him. He seemed to prefer the metropolis to the country.

  There were so many bedchambers she lost count, most furnished in heavy mahogany. Her chamber was one of the best, although Robert’s was larger. Would she join him there after they married? Another anxious shiver followed the first. The breakfast room was her favorite because it overlooked the sea.

  Each day she ventured farther, leaving the rounded walls of the castle which were shaped like the petals of a rose, and walked along a balustraded-walk leading to formal gardens to the north of the castle. Clipped yew hedges bordered the path. Bees buzzed among the roses along the sun-warmed stone walls, the majestic trees of the park in the distance.

  Her wanderings always led her back to the foreshore. She began collecting interesting pieces of driftwood that took her fancy, and soon had quite a collection. It might have been the mild weather and the beauty of the place, but she began to feel more at home. Every day, the chef sent a kitchen maid to inquire if there was anything special she’d like for her supper. It surprised and touched her as she wasn’t yet the mistress of the house. After she sent Rebecca to the kitchens to relay her approval of the day’s meal, the menu became more elaborate. She supposed the chef appreciated having someone to cook for. And the footman, James, danced attendance on her. She must tell Robert what a treasure he was.

  *

  Robert arrived back in Curzon Street. And after a bath and a change of clothes, he left for dinner with friends. It was close to ten of the clock when he abandoned them at Whites where they wandered the gambling tables, planning to visit the theatre later and be entertained by opera dancers.

  After the maid opened the door for him, he walked into Anastasia’s boudoir where she sat at her mirror.

  He rested his hand on his mistress’s slender shoulder. She was applying a patch to her cheek. “You are going out?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “I didn’t expect you to be back in London for some time, St Malin.”

  “I wasn’t sure myself.” He eased himself into an uncomfortable chair with spindly guilt legs. “I’m here in London for a special lic
ense.”

  Her eyes met his in the mirror. “You are marrying her then.”

  “I have little choice in the matter. It’s what my uncle wished.”

  She shrugged. “But your uncle’s wishes no longer matter, surely. What is she like, your fiancée?”

  “An unaffected country girl.”

  “How gauche.”

  “Gauche? No, I wouldn’t say that.” He’d found Kate refreshingly intelligent but considered it imprudent to say so.

  As Anastasia rose from the chair, her wrap parted to reveal a long, slim naked thigh. Robert cast an admiring glance over her flowing, fair hair and graceful slender body, which the silk wrap barely covered. Her likeness to his first love, Millicent Borrowdale, struck him again.

  She stepped close and ran a hand over his chest. “Is she pretty?”

  “I don’t intend to discuss my future wife with you.”

  “No?” Her hand moved lower. It reached its destination, and his cock tightened under her practiced touch.

  She smiled, her eyes filled with anticipation. “Can she do what I can do for you?”

  “I very much doubt it.” Robert picked her up in his arms and laid her on the bed. “We shall go on much as we did before, shall we not?”

  “If you wish it?”

  He stripped off her robe and bent to kiss a breast. “Oh, I do. I do wish it.”

  Chapter Three

  Robert had been gone almost two weeks when Kate wandered over to the water’s edge accompanied by Felix, who had become her firm companion. She stood with her gown whipping around her, watching a majestic tall ship far out to sea. The dog gave a bark and took off at a run. She turned to see Robert crossing the rocks toward her. Her ribs constricted, and a flush of heat rose to her face at the sight of him. He had come to find her, still in his brown greatcoat, striding out in fawn breeches and black riding boots. He swept off his cocked hat looking every bit as handsome as she remembered.

  A lock of her hair blew across her face and she tucked it behind an ear with trembling fingers, wondering again if she could make him a good wife.

  “Weren’t you to be my faithful escort, Felix?” she remonstrated, after the dog returned to dance around her legs. It gave her time to regain her composure. “I believe your friendship to be false.” Felix barked and joyfully returned to his master where he gained a pat for his pains.

  “My uncle was of the view that animals were never false.” He rose from the dog, a smile lighting his eyes. “What have you there?”

  Might he be pleased to see her? She held out a piece of flotsam from some sunken ship. “Nature has wrought a work of art. It has the look of a horse jumping a fence or some such, do you see?”

  He took the wood from her and turned it in his long fingers. “It has a little.”

  Kate’s stomach tightened. Her wayward mind returned to whether he would honor her wishes and refrain from making love to her on their wedding night. Apart from their first kiss, he hadn’t revealed an urgent desire to repeat it, but then they’d spent very little time together.

  He handed the driftwood back. “We are to travel up to London after the ceremony.”

  “So soon?”

  He chucked her under the chin and laughed. “Is that a pout? Don’t you wish to go to London?”

  “Of course, I do, but autumn is so agreeable here.” She waved her hand. “Don’t you love the sea? The smell and the sound of the waves on the shore? So rhythmic and soothing. Your uncle has accumulated an excellent library of books.” She sighed. “And I should love to be here when the bluebells flower beneath the trees. Where might one find servants as pleasant as these?”

  He looked at her, brows raised. “Are they?” He laughed again. “I’ve never heard a house and its servants praised quite so thoroughly before.”

  Kate knew he teased her, but his laugh warmed her and made her feel special. She was so glad to see him. If only they could stay longer here and grow more familiar with each other before she had to deal with the concerns and distractions in London. If they could laugh a little more and even become friends. She held the driftwood tight against her chest and sucked in an anxious breath. She’d learned much about London from her friend’s parents who visited that busy metropolis. The beau monde was known for their eloquence and cruel wit, couched in matchless manners. Their exquisite style would be difficult for her to emulate. And they would judge her. She would rather go to war in that ship on the horizon.

  *

  The wedding took place on Saturday morning in the gray stone parish church. The vicar and two witnesses were the only one’s present. Their words in the almost empty building, echoed around the vaulted ceiling, disturbing a flock of wood pigeons nesting in the rafters. No neighbors attended, for although Robert’s uncle had the respect of the community, Robert was a virtual stranger there.

  Villagers crowded around the entrance, ready to toss handfuls of wheat. When they emerged, Kate smiled and waved. She wished they could have given them more of a show. She had only her best gown, a cream silk chemise with a narrow sash, which apart from the neck ruffle, was a little plain. Rebecca had convinced her to wear her hair braided beneath a straw hat trimmed with wild primrose and Lily of the valley. Perhaps in sympathy with her, Robert had forgone his usual velvets and laces. Instead, he wore a matching coat, waistcoat, and breeches in olive green, the austerity of the suit lightened by the sheer white frill down the front of his shirt. He’d pinned a nosegay of yellow flowers to his coat, as a knight might do for his lady.

  He complimented her on her outfit, saying what a delightful rustic picture she made, like a true country miss. Although not what she hoped he would say, she would let nothing detract from this special day. Her heart thudded as he held her gaze and said the words that would tie them together, come what may until death.

  “I give thee my troth,” she answered solemnly, gazing into his blue eyes and, she suspected, a little in love with him, or certainly in danger of it. She searched for a sign he might have begun to feel some affection for her but found nothing beyond a courtliness he’d been taught from childhood. She struggled to believe they’d married.

  “With this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow.” Robert slipped his signet ring bearing the St. Malin coat of arms on her finger, which would suffice until they reached London. She hurriedly pulled on her gloves over the loose ring, fearing she might lose it.

  After paying the vicar enough money to make his eyes bulge, Robert proved as good as his word, for they departed for London straight away, sparing only enough time for her to change into a traveling gown.

  “I hope Felix doesn’t miss us too much,” she said as she traveled once again in the luxurious St. Malin coach. It seemed years since she’d last rode in it. So much had happened.

  They passed through Helston, and the smell of hops wafted in on the breeze from the Blue Anchor. “I trust James to look after him.”

  “But what if the dog continues to pine?”

  “Then James will let me know. I promised my uncle I’d take good care of Felix, and I honor my obligations.”

  She supposed that meant she was one of those obligations. It seemed to her that Robert didn’t want to admit to a fondness for the dog. “Felix loves you.”

  He looked surprised. “You believe so?”

  “Yes. Every time he sees you, he wags his tail.”

  “He does that at dinner time, too.”

  She fell silent. Did even an animal’s love bother him? She realized she knew very little about Robert’s past. And until she did, she would never understand him.

  She was to be closeted with her new husband for the best part of three days, and the prospect seemed daunting. She asked him to tell her more of London society, and he obliged. He made it sound exciting and completely unnerving. Why hadn’t the wedding been held in London at St. Paul’s with all the fanfare a man of his stature deserved? Might he be ashamed of the less than brillia
nt match he’d made? If so, why take her to London at all? He might tuck her away in the country if he chose. She had half-expected him to do it.

  Kate peeked at his fine profile. She wanted to ask him if he was happy but grew afraid that his answer might not be to her liking.

  Her gown billowed out, taking up far too much space in the carriage. The gentle pressure of his knee against hers through the yards of fabric disconcerted her. Every touch was electric, like some unspoken promise of what would come.

  “I can’t wait to meet your family.”

  His lips firmed. “I’m afraid you’re unlikely to.”

  Kate’s eyes widened. “Don’t they reside in London?”

  He leaned forward and flicked her cheek with a gentle finger. “You ask too many questions.”

  “If you supplied me with answers, I’d stop,” she said in a teasing tone.

  His amused eyes met hers. “I have reason to doubt it.”

  They spent their wedding night at a coaching inn in Honiton. Robert had engaged a private parlor and two bedchambers. The proprietor had lit a fire in the small, stuffy room papered in crimson stripes, despite the evening turning humid with coming rain. Kate observed Robert from beneath her lashes as he neatly sliced the sirloin of beef roast and placed several portions on a plate. He placed the plate before her.

  “Mustard?” He indicated the pot on the table.

  She shook her head as she could hardly eat a bite and sat twirling the stem of her wine glass in her fingers as he tucked into the meal. Obviously, his emotions weren’t overset by the occasion. It seemed entirely unreasonable, however, to accuse him of having too good an appetite.

  “Tired?” he asked after she tried to suppress a yawn.

  “A little.”

  She eased her stiff shoulders. She’d been tense since this all began.

  “We’ll retire directly after dinner,” he said ambiguously.