by Cheryl Bolen
She kept her arms around his rock hard back. Her face rested on his chest, his harsh, heavy breathing reassuring. She lay in the peace of him, a deep contentment washing over her.
His mind in a drug-like stupor from the sensations she had aroused and the overpowering emotions she touched, he held her close, delighting in her rose water scent and the feel of her smooth skin against his own. When the sensual fog began to clear from his brain, he remembered everything clearly. The way he languidly kissed her mouth and her extraordinary body. The way he had been more intent on giving her pleasure than in seeking his own. The way he called out her name repeatedly. In a lifetime of vagrant passion, he had never done these things with a woman before.
He held her close, stroking her satiny flesh with a gentleness that surprised himself. Soon, her rhythmic breathing told him she was asleep. While his own body craved sleep, his mind fought it, his thoughts racing with exhilaration brought on by the fragile beauty of the woman he held in his arms. The unnamed yearnings of the past sixteen days, he knew now, had been his deep hunger for Anna. His own Anna.
His arms cradled her. He reveled in the bliss of his possession. He remembered his vow to cherish her, and he knew that whatever lay ahead, he would protect her until his dying breath.
When he awoke in the morning, Anna's huge brown eyes peered into his own and a sweet smile lit her lovely face. She had pulled up the sheet to cover her nakedness.
He trailed a single finger along her cheek and the slope of her chest, then down further, to gently follow the contour of her breast. "Your aptitude for learning exceeds my expectations."
He stifled her smile with a heavy kiss. "Now, to continue your instruction."
Chapter 8
It was well past dark when Haverstock came home the next day. Anna had been watching from her chamber window and scurried down the broad staircase to greet him.
She watched warily as he gave his greatcoat to the butler. His step slow, his hair tousled, Haverstock looked tired enough to have performed yeoman's work at great length. Her heart caught at his haggard appearance. He looked to be twice her age. Then, she realized his secretive post at the Foreign Office was what drew all his strength, and a bitter anger welled within her.
At the foot of the stairs, she remembered Sir Henry's instructions to play the adoring wife. She held out her hands and forced a smile. "My lord, you look so very tired."
A flicker of pleasure passed over his face as he gazed at her. "That I am, my dear."
"Please bring a fresh pot of tea to my chamber," Anna instructed Davis, linking her arm through her husband's and mounting the stairs. "You must come warm yourself before my fire, Charles. A cup of tea is just what you need."
Haverstock collapsed on the settee in front of her fireplace. She bent over him, tenderly loosening his cravat. "There, now, get comfortable and relax." Their eyes met, merging them, driving the anger from her. She stroked the shadows of his beard. "You have worked far too hard today." She told herself she was merely playing the role Sir Henry demanded of her, winning her husband's confidence through her feigned devotion. The problem was, she feigned little where Haverstock was concerned. When she was with him, he earned an unpretentious affection.
Only when they were apart did she recall his traitorous deeds. Because then she was not drawn to the depth of his black eyes and not seduced by the nearness to his tall, golden-skinned body.
He took her hand and brought it to his lips. "Sit by me, Anna."
She obliged.
"It is so very good to be home. I will be fine now," he said. "It occurred to me today that I should like to possess a miniature of you so that I might look at it when I am away."
"I am greatly flattered," Anna said, hoping her voice did not reveal the leaping excitement in her pulse. She squeezed his hand and shot him a concerned glance. "Now tell me what is it you work yourself so hard for?"
He ran his large hands through his hair and sighed. "When my father died, I learned that he had foolishly lost most of the family's fortune. Since that day, I have contrived to restore the money as well as the Haverstock good name – neither of which have I been particularly successful."
"Oh, Charles, I would so very much rather you take my money and not work so hard. Your companionship, I find, far preferable to this house full of females." She had felt so alienated and lonely at Haverstock House without Charles. Though one day was no gauge of how well she would get along with his family, this first day brought bitter disappointment. Her mother-in-law had not come out of her chamber all day. Anna longed to get away from this house, to go to Haymore. "Could you and I not go to Haymore?" she suggested.
"Nothing would give me greater pleasure, my dear, but I cannot consider it at this time for I have far too much work."
The butler entered the room with a tea tray and set it on a table in front of the settee.
"Thank you, Davis," Anna said as he bowed and departed.
Haverstock watched Anna as she poured tea into a gilded cup. "It distresses me that you are so unhappy here, Anna. Has my family not made you welcome?"
"It is not that," she said, handing him is tea. "It is just that they kept to their rooms most of the day, except for Lydia, who has been quite wonderful. She gave me a tour of the house and explained the various family portraits and even showed me the butler's pantry."
"How do you like Lydia?"
"She is the most wonderful of sisters. I count myself very fortunate." Anna poured herself a cup of steaming tea from the silver pot. "She tells me she does not like town life. Perhaps that is what has me longing to go to the country. She described the green hills and country lanes. She's quite enamored of horses, isn't she?"
He laughed. "Yes, it's an enthusiasm not shared by my other sisters. Lydia very much enjoys the outdoors. When we were reduced to just one gardener at Haymore, Lydia actually took to working side by side with Benton trying to restore the park there to what it had once been – another futile effort, I'm afraid."
"I should love to see Haymore."
He took her hand in his and warmly pressed it. "And so you shall. I promise as soon as the war – I mean, as soon as I'm finished with my work, I shall take you there. It can be a honeymoon."
"You are so very good to honor your marriage vows when marrying me must have been extremely distasteful to you."
"Oh, yes," he said mischievously, "it is such a burden to be shackled to such an ugly woman." He cupped her breast. "I have to force myself to make love to the old dragon." His other hand began to unfasten the buttons on the back of her dress. "Such dreadful unpleasantness."
She ran a hand along the rigid planes of his face."Don't force yourself, my lord."
"In truth, I'm powerless to deny myself when I'm with you, Anna," he said in a low, husky voice.
Sated by his wife's compliant body and feeling her smooth warmth against him, Haverstock held her close long after they made love. Her touch had the power to free him from the discomfort of the day's long hours of writing down all the maneuvers Monsieur Herbert had painstakingly written in French.
Haverstock wanted nothing more than to trust Anna and felt guilty that he had not been honest with her about his duties. A marriage should be built upon truth and trust, and he fully intended this to be a real marriage.
But he did not really know Anna. He had been with her but three days. Three days that had reoriented his world. Nothing would ever be the same again. No woman had ever consumed him as engagingly as Anna. He could not be near her without experiencing an overwhelming rush of possessive tenderness, and more than that, an urge to make love to her until there was no breath left in his body.
Like the purity and passion Anna brought to their marriage bed, this wife of his was a paradox. It seemed inconceivable that the woman who likely cheated and schemed to gain his title could be the same gentle lover who offered herself so completely.
With thoughts of Anna circulating in his mind, he gave way to his exhaustion and fell to sl
eep.
He was awakened an hour later by Evans rapping at the door. Haverstock started up, then saw a fully-dressed Anna standing near the door.
"What is it?" she asked, her amused glance shooting from the closed door back to her naked husband.
"Her Ladyship asks if you plan to join the family for dinner."
"Tell her we will be down presently," Anna replied with authority.
Lighting a taper, she strode to the bed and leaned down to kiss her husband. "Shall I perform your valet's duties, my lord?" she asked with mirth.
"I beg that you don't," he said, climbing from the bed. "Your touch has a very devastating effect on me, I'm afraid. I would never make it to dinner were you to offer me assistance, and I fear my mother's wrath excessively."
Anna sat down the taper and bent to pick up her husband's clothes that had been rapidly discarded in his haste to bed her. "Do you think your mother knows what we've done here?"
He took the breeches she handed him, stepped into them and cast her a bemused smile. "Most certainly."
Anna blushed.
"It's nothing to be ashamed of, my dear," he said, lightly touching her chin. "All married people do it. Do not forget my mother gave birth to seven children, so she most certainly has done it any number of times."
The dowager and her daughters were already seated at the long dining table when Haverstock and Anna came down. He glanced at his mother, sitting at the foot of the table. "I see you still sit at the marchioness's place, Mother. How very kind of you to encourage Anna to sit by me." He slid out a chair for Anna beside his own at the head of the table.
She took a seat, casting a quick glance at her mother-in-law, who glared at the couple with her lips compressed. Once again, Anna felt like a horse being trotted out at auction as her sisters stared at her.
"That is a most becoming dress, Anna," Charlotte beamed.
"Thank you," Anna said as a footman uncovered salvers and heaped buttered crab on her plate. "I am blessed to be the owner of a fine wardrobe. The only thing I lack is lovely ball gowns. For reasons which I am sure you are aware, I have not been in society."
Charlotte lowered her eyes.
"We shall remedy that soon, my love," Haverstock said. "It will be my good fortune to escort the loveliest woman in London to all the balls this season."
"If she hasn't been in society, how did you meet her?" the dowager asked her son.
Anna's insides crumbled. She wondered how Charles would answer.
"Actually, Morgie knew her first," Haverstock replied truthfully, then took a bite of French beans.
Anna's pulse returned to normal, but she still felt slighted that her mother-in-law chose to address Haverstock instead of her.
Turning to his wife, Haverstock said, "With the Season just a few weeks away, I suggest you commission gowns, Lady Haverstock."
"Yes, my lord. I should like to pay Madame Devreaux a call tomorrow." She turned to the sisters. "Would you like to accompany me? No one can turn out the lot of us better than Madame Devreaux."
"Mama once had a gown fashioned by the modiste," Kate said. "It was quite the prettiest gown she ever owned. That was before Molly had to start making our clothes."
"Then you all must come with me tomorrow and select wardrobes for the season," Anna said, smiling. "We'll send the bills to Charles. Whether he wants to admit it or not, he is quite fat in the purse now that he has married me."
"Now that I have you as a sister," Lydia said to Anna, "I will not need to provide propriety for the girls. I would far prefer not to attend all the balls, and I care nothing for clothes."
Anna threw a dubious glance at Haverstock.
"I understand perfectly, Lydia. My marchioness can take your place, and you can be spared the tediousness of attending the functions I know you find so very unpleasant." Turning to his wife, he added, "Lydia would far prefer to sit home reading."
"Then I am happy to be of service," Anna said. "But should you need a new dress, please go to Madame Devreaux and send your dear brother the bill."
All of them, except for the dowager, laughed.
After dinner, they retired to the parlor where Haverstock and his mother played Anna and Lydia at whist while the other girls perused fashion magazines and discussed the various gowns they would request on the morrow.
The whist game was evenly matched, with both sets of partners displaying uncommon skill. The lead zig zagged until Anna and Lydia prevailed as the winners.
"I may have to take my wife as my partner next time, Mother," Haverstock said. "She possesses remarkable skill at cards."
"Of course she does," the dowager said, a sly smile on her face. "Look who her mother was."
As the family members prepared to go to their bedchambers, the dowager said, "A word with you, Charles."
Anna met his gaze, then began to mount the stairs.
"Of course, Mother," he said, staying back.
Once Anna was upstairs, the dowager said, "I find your conduct most inappropriate. You must be sensible to the fact that you have four maiden sisters in this house who do not need to be exposed to your lust."
"I presume you are referring to the fact I have spent much of my time in my wife's chamber."
"Yes," she said, her eyes cold.
"I must ask that you not use the word lust when you talk about anything that occurs between my wife and me. It is expected that a newly wed man enjoys the company of his wife. Granted, a husband and wife wanting to be with each other is a novel experience for our family," he said curtly.
She gasped as he turned his back to her and began to climb the wide staircase.
Chapter 9
Anna was hard pressed to determine if the three sisters or Madame Devreaux were the more excited over the flurry of measuring and ordering of dozens of dresses and gowns. Kate, Charlotte and Cynthia had timidly entered the shop bearing dog-eared copies of fashion magazines and brimming with ideas – all of which the French modiste was only too happy to accommodate. Madame Devreaux grew even more accommodating when she learned her long-standing patron, the exquisite Miss de Mouchet, was now the Marchioness of Haverstock. Anna could tell from the gleam in the French woman's eye, she was already planning on the commissions that would come her way when the Haverstock women were seen in society wearing her gowns.
Anna's ideas for her own ball gowns met with appreciative compliments from Madame Devreaux.
When they finished at the modiste's, the four young ladies happily stepped into the Haverstock barouche, Anna casting a dubious gaze at the grey skies as she allowed the coachman to assist her into the carriage. She hoped the rain that saturated the ground that morning would not return. Haverstock had promised to take her to the park this afternoon, and she wanted nothing to interfere with the outing.
Anna directed the coachman to the milliner's on Conduit Street.
"This has been so very much fun," Kate said.
"Especially for me," Anna responded. "I cannot tell you how delightful it is to finally have sisters. I do not at all recommend the life of an only child."
"I am sure you'll never be lonely again," Charlotte said. "It seems Charles can hardly bear being without you."
"Such a difference has come over him since his marriage," Kate added. "He is most certainly not the brother we have always known."
"Oh, not at all," Charlotte agreed. "What ever happened to that stern, tight-fisted brother of ours I am sure I cannot say."
"I beg you not speak ill of your brother," Anna said. "If he seemed parsimonious, it was because he worried excessively about providing well for all of you."
"It is so sweet to see how devoted you two are to each other," Charlotte said. "I hope the Season brings me a man as besotted over me as Charles is over you."
"He is indeed that," Cynthia concurred.
Anna wanted to protest. Charles certainly was not besotted over her. If he were, he surely would be with her every day instead of trudging off to his office. She had to admit s
he satisfied his. . .what had he called it? His sexual needs. But nothing more.
When the coach stopped in front of the milliner's, Anna urged, "Do hurry, girls, for I must be back in time to ride in the park with Charles." She fully intended to dress to perfection, hoping she could make him proud, fondly recalling his words the night before. "This will be my first opportunity to display my lovely wife," he had said.
"Do you mean to say Charles is actually going to stop working to take you to the park?" Kate uttered in shocked tones.
"He must be besotted," Cynthia added as she stepped from the coach.
The three girls purchased nearly every bonnet in the shop, so many that the coachman was obliged to make another trip after depositing the ladies at Haverstock House.
Colette's deft hands fashioned ringlets about Anna's face as Anna watched the artistry in her looking glass. From time to time, Colette would be seized by a coughing spell and have to stop.
"That's a terrible cough, Colette," Anna said, concern in her voice. "You've never been susceptible to taking a chill."
"Never before have I slept in so cold a room," Colette said, sniffing.
Anna spun toward her abigail. "Surely you don't mean there is no fire in your room."
Colette nodded.
"Come, show me your room," Anna instructed, her eyes flashing with anger as she leaped to her feet and headed toward the door.
Colette led Anna to a tiny, dark chamber on the fourth floor. Anna looked over the musty smelling quarters with dismay. The floors were of cold stone, with no rugs. A tiny straw bed took up most of the small room, which had just one casement, where cold air whistled through a jagged crack. There was no fireplace.
Her lips compressed in anger, Anna said, "This will never do."
Amidst a flurry of French protests from Colette, Anna stormed toward the dowager's royal blue chamber, where she found Lydia joining her mother, doing needlework before a crackling fire. The dowager directed a frosty gaze at Anna as her daughter-in-law entered the room unannounced.