by Louise Allen
Now Julia turned to him as he took the edge of lace and lifted it care fully back over the crown of her bonnet. She was pale and her eyes were huge and soft with an emotion he hoped was happiness. Or at least contentment. Perhaps that was the most he could hope for at first, to make her content.
Then she smiled at him, and Hal found he could smile back as he bent to kiss her. A sentimental sigh went round the congregation, Julia became pink and rather charmingly flustered and he turned for the endless walk down the aisle.
Bless her, he thought, as he glanced down at the brim of her bonnet. The tip of her nose was all he could see of his wife’s face. She doesn’t fuss, or suggest we go out of the side door; she just lets me set the pace as though I wasn’t half-crippled.
Faces on either side smiled at them, a few sentimental ladies sniffed into dainty handkerchiefs. Many of the men there had bandaged heads and arms in slings, but they were, thank God, all there. Or almost all. Major Jameson was still in his bed, but they thought he would survive the loss of his leg. Young Lieu tenant Hayden was dead, never to reduce the regimental dinner to gales of laughter with his female impersonation, never again to scrounge everyone else’s second helping of pudding.
Six of his surviving sergeants and troopers were outside, sabres lifting in a flash of steel as he and Julia came out onto the steps. They walked through the arch of blades and he realized that what he was feeling—the strange, intense pressure in his chest—was happiness. Which was unexpected.
The baron’s newest barouche was there at the foot of the steps, George grinning as he held the door. Hal helped Julia in, then sank down with a sigh of relief on the soft squabs beside her.
‘I thought I might feel different,’ she said, half laughing at herself as George climbed back onto the box. Rose petals floated in on top of them, Hal was hit by a painful shower of rice. ‘Oh, my bouquet.’ She stood up, turned her back and threw it so that it vanished into the press of laughing girls on the steps. ‘I meant it for Felicity,’ she said, sitting down again with rather a bump as the carriage moved off. ‘Did she catch it?’
‘I have no idea,’ Hal confessed. ‘I was watching you. You look beautiful, Mrs Carlow.’
‘Oh.’ Julia blushed. ‘Thank you. I have to say, you look very handsome, Major Carlow.’ She sent him a speculative look from under her lashes. ‘How on earth did you get into that tight uniform with all the bandages?’
‘I’ve lost weight and I bribed the surgeon to come and bandage me at the same time as I was getting into my uniform. So the bandages are tight and as thin as possible and my batman—who has turned up un scathed, I’m glad to say—inched me into my breeches.’
‘I am glad he is coming with us,’ Julia remarked, ‘or I would have to cut them off you.’
‘That would almost be worth sacrificing the breeches for,’ Hal murmured, then could have bitten his tongue as the pretty pink blush became red-cheeked embarrassment.
‘I hope the hotel in Gent is a good one,’ she remarked after a pause, her voice con strained. ‘The baron recommended it, but goodness knows what it is like after all the people who fled there have been crammed in.’
‘I am sure it will be perfect,’ Hal said. ‘And it is only for one night, after all.’ Lord, there he went again. Mentioning the wedding night for one thing, then speaking as though it were a matter of in difference what their accommodation would be like for such a significant occasion. ‘The barge to Ostend will be very pleasant,’ he promised, pushing on rather desperately. ‘I have travelled by them before. There’s a large public salon, and the food is excellent. And Phillip will enjoy it.’
‘Yes, of course.’ Julia was recovering her poise a little. ‘It is kind of the baron to take Mama and Phillip to Gent. We are quite a grand cavalcade, are we not? This carriage and then the baron’s and then the luggage with our maid and your batman. Oh yes, and the groom with the horses.’
‘He’ll go direct to Ostend and wait for us.’ Hal gave some thought to that. Trooper Godfrey, who had been so sick, had recovered suspiciously fast once Harris was dead. The man was unable to account for his violent stomach pains, but Hal had his suspicions that Harris had poisoned him in order to take over the care of Chiltern Lad and get closer to his target. Godfrey had jumped at the chance to accompany Hal as groom and Hal had felt a responsibility to him, so at least he did not have to worry about the horses.
‘I am glad Mama has decided to go straight to my aunt and uncle,’ Julia said after a few miles of silent travel. ‘Your poor family will be surprised enough to have me arrive.’
‘They will be de lighted to see you,’ Hal said warmly, convinced of that, at least. ‘Mama has been nagging me to get married for years, and she and Verity will be missing Honoria, I am sure. And Nell, Marcus’s wife, is increasing again, so she will be glad of the company of another married woman of her own age. My father is not in very good health, so you will find him a trifle quiet and retiring, but you must not take that as any reflection of his feelings towards you.’
‘You are close to him?’ Julia asked, with a faint air of self-consciousness that had him wondering how he had betrayed the constant edge to the relationship with his father.
‘No, not very,’ he admitted. ‘I am not, as you may imagine, the ideal son. But he will be pleased with me for finding you and will feel I have done something right for once.’
‘I hope so,’ she said with what he could only interpret as a brave smile. ‘I have to confess that I am glad we will be going into the country almost immediately. I think I will find London rather overpowering.’
‘We’ll just break our journey in town. They are sure to be at Stanegate Court,’ Hal said reassuringly.
‘But you haven’t heard from them?’
‘No,’ he admitted. ‘Not since just before the battle. I expect the mails are clogged with all the traffic, or a bag went astray.’ But either scenario left the possibility that something had gone very wrong at home, or that his family had no idea whether he had survived the battle or not. He had dictated letters, but no response had come. It was possible that he was going to surprise his family—not just by appearing on the doorstep, but with a new wife into the bargain.
‘I see,’ Julia said. ‘We could be quite a shock then.’ Hal tried to interpret her expression, but all he could read was polite interest.
Julia’s stomach lurched. She tried to tell herself it was simply the effect of not having eaten since just before the ceremony so they could make an immediate start, but she knew it was not. She was here in a strange hotel, alone with her new husband. It did not matter that somewhere else in the building Mama and Philip were settling into their rooms.
‘Thank you, Maria.’ The maid finished fastening the row of buttons on the evening dress and patted a loose hairpin into place. Julia regarded her reflection in the long glass. Her neckline was lower than she was used to, more suitable for a married lady. She resisted the temptation to tug it upwards and then caught a glimpse of the bed in the glass. If Hal came to her tonight, then in a few hours…
The wonderful glow that had seemed to fill her through out the wedding ceremony had all gone now. A long carriage ride with the man who was now her husband had replaced that romantic haze with so many sources for apprehension that she could hardly manage to worry about them all at once.
It seemed there was a strong possibility that Hal was going to turn up and introduce his bride to his parents when they had no idea she even existed, or before they had the opportunity to become resigned to the fact that she had neither wealth nor grand connections to bring to the match. Perhaps, she tried to console herself, they would be so happy to have Hal home, alive, even if wounded, that they would pay her no attention.
Then there was her anxiety about Hal. Was he wrong to under take this journey so soon? She was his wife, and she felt she had failed in her responsibility to care for her husband—but the wretched man would not let her so much as ask about his wounds, let alone fuss over them
. He wouldn’t even wear a sling.
And then there was the prospect of the rest of the evening, of the wedding night, stretching in front of her. That bed. Before the duchess’s ball, she had felt she could speak to Hal about anything; now her tongue seemed to freeze in her mouth before she could get out the simplest sentence, let alone ask him where he was going to sleep tonight.
And as for what would happen if he did come to her, she could not imagine. She could not get beyond kisses in her head. Kisses and that confusing, overwhelming feeling that he had created when he had caressed her in the woodland glade.
But first, she had to talk to him, begin the civilised routines of married life. Somehow her training was going to have to help her through, because this marriage that had begun on a battlefield was going to have to survive in a very different world.
Julia told herself that the man she loved could hardly be more difficult to converse with than Great Aunt Penelope. She ran through a mental list of topics. His country estate with the soup, the family home in Hertford shire with the removes. Then perhaps his interest in horse breeding during dessert. Eventually it would become easier, she was sure. She would discover his interests, tell him her own and they could begin to build their own shared reality.
She would go to the other end of the private sitting room and start embroidering her new initials on some hand kerchiefs, leaving him to his port and cheese at the dining table and then perhaps she should ask whether he had bought any lace for the ladies of his family and offer to do so in the few hours they had in Gent before the barge departed.
That all seemed very harmless, with plenty of scope for conversation. Julia fastened the diamond eardrops that Hal had given her, took a deep breath and opened the door to their sitting room.
‘…and so that is lace for your mother and Lady Verity and Lady Stanegate.’ Julia made a careful note. ‘How much may I spend?’
‘Whatever you think appropriate.’ Hal lowered himself into the chair on the other side of the cold fire place and stretched out his long legs slowly. Julia held her breath, waiting for a gasp of pain, but he seemed quite comfortable. ‘What is it?’ Bother, he had seen her watching him.
‘I cannot get used to you out of uniform,’ she said, truthfully. His valet had extricated Hal from his restricting dress uniform, and he was wearing loose trousers with his dark swallow tail coat. The formal severity of black and white showed off his blonde looks but turned him into a stranger, no longer either the rake or the officer, but a remote gentleman.
The evening had gone quite well, she thought. The conversation had not flagged, the topics they had discussed were personal without being intimate. It had all been very pleasant, except for that growing tension as the hour hand moved round the mantle clock towards ten.
Julia felt very aware of Hal and oddly aware of her own body. It was as though her skin was too tight, her breasts had grown heavy. There was an embarrassing and in sis tent pulse beating low down that made her want to shift nervously in her chair, and she was certain that Hal was purposefully averting his eyes from her neckline which felt more indecent every time she thought of it.
What on earth was the matter with her? If this was nerves, she had never felt like it before. The nearest was that long afternoon when Hal had rescued her from Major Fellowes in the forest and the after math of that short, passionate encounter.
The clock struck ten, making her jump. ‘I think I will go to bed,’ she announced, putting away the embroidery that had lain un touched for the past hour, giving Hal time to get to his feet.
She was so intent at looking at what she was doing and not hurrying him if getting up was painful, that it was a shock to find him standing so close when she finally stood up.
‘It seems a very long time since I kissed my bride,’ Hal said, tipping up her chin and smiling at her.
‘Yes,’ she agreed. In the church, with everyone watching them, the pressure of his lips had been the seal on the ceremony, part of the blessing, a sweet thing, not a carnal one.
Now the memory of how overwhelming it had been when she had kissed him as he lay in bed came flooding back. Somehow, she had to do it properly this time. Julia watched as Hal bent to her, his eyes intent on her mouth, his hand sliding round to cradle her head.
As his mouth closed over hers and he pulled her close, she suddenly realized why she had felt so strange all evening. Desire. Physical desire, all mixed up with love and nerves and apprehension. She wanted him, her body wanted him. It was going to be all right, but she had to be brave, to trust her instincts and learn to show him what she felt.
There was no painful bullion and braid against her bare skin above the edge of her silk gown, only the warmth of Hal’s body through linen and smooth broad cloth. She moved, restless, and her nipples hardened with the friction, making her gasp as he slid his tongue between her lips and tasted her, explored her mouth, teased her until she wanted to squirm against him to get closer. But should she, with the bandages beneath his shirt?
Just as she felt emboldened to try Hal lifted his head, his eyes bright in the candlelight. ‘You are very beautiful, wife. Does kissing begin to please you now?’
‘Yes,’ she admitted, wondering if that made her very wanton. Or whether wantonness would please him or disgust him. He was used to loose women, but men expected decorum from their wives. But decorum had not brought him into her bed so far.
‘I’m glad.’ He lifted his hand and brushed it gently over her mouth, tracing the shape of her lips. ‘It pleases me very much.’ He turned her, took her elbow and began to walk towards the bedroom door. ‘You must be tired. Sleep well, Julia.’
He opened the door for her, then stepped back and turned to the other door, the door to the dressing room, and left her alone.
Chapter Eighteen
‘That’s Burlington House, we’re almost there.’ Hal pointed out of the chaise window while Julia tried to take in the sights and control her jittery nerves.
There would be only the skeleton staff of servants at the town house, she reassured herself for the hundredth time. And it was not Hal’s house, even if it was his town home, so she would not be expected to give any orders to top-lofty London servants. Perhaps it was a good thing that Mama and Phillip had stopped with Uncle and Aunt Tresilian in Rochester: Phillip and a superior butler were hardly likely to make a harmonious couple.
A few days to them selves in London, the opportunity to rest and relax, to do a little shopping—to get to know each other.
Euphemisms, she chided herself sharply. Time for him to come to my bed, that’s what I mean. Oh, why doesn’t he want to make love to me? She had asked herself that over and over when the limit to Hal’s physical affection seemed to be kisses, the occasional touch on her hand. Admittedly, the kisses were passionate, but they left her feeling that she would burst into flames at any moment.
They had been travel ling of course—but from what she had heard, a man in the throes of amorous excitement was not to be put off by tiny cabins or the accommodations to be found at coaching inns. She could only conclude that she did not produce sufficient amorous excitement in him. But unless she had some practice, she was not at all certain how she was ever going to learn. And if they could not share the intimacy of the marriage bed, how were they ever going to become close enough to make this marriage work? Something had been there, so strongly between them, when he had lain with her in the grass, that day at the picnic. What was she doing wrong that he no longer wanted to caress her like that?
Or was there something she could do? Julia was not sure quite how, or whether she would dare, but she was going to find something, she vowed.
The post-chaise turned right, then stopped in front of a tall, double-fronted house. Hal jumped down and handed Julia out. ‘The knocker’s still on,’ he said, sounding puzzled. He handed notes up to the nearest postillion who stuffed the money down his heavy leather boot while his colleague unloaded their trunks.
‘Someone of the
family must still be at home.’ Hal took Julia’s arm and climbed the steps, his limp very pronounced after the long carriage ride. ‘Oh well, let’s see.’ He banged the knocker while Julia’s heart thudded in unison.
The door swung open to reveal a tall, balding butler whose expression of dignified solemnity lasted as long as it took him to recognize the man on the doorstep. ‘Major Carlow, sir! We had not hoped—Lord and Lady Narborough are in the—’
‘Hal!’ A tall woman hurried across the chequered floor of the hall, her hands held out. ‘Oh thank God!’ She threw her arms around him and burst into tears as a young woman came down the stairs.
‘Is that the post? Oh! Hal!’
Julia stepped aside, as Hal was embraced from the other side, then saw she had better intervene. ‘Please, do mind his arm, his ribs…Lady Verity—’ She supposed this must be Hal’s younger sister.
‘Hal.’ It was a man, rather stooped, greying, obviously a invalid. He did not come down the hall, but waited, leaning on a stick while Hal put his mother and sister gently to one side and went to him.
‘Father.’ Julia saw him hesitate, then he embraced the older man. ‘You all seem very surprised to see me. Have you not had my letters?’
‘The only letter we have had was from a Captain Grey to say you had been badly wounded, but that you had been removed from the battlefield and he had hopes of your eventual recovery,’ Lord Narborough said. ‘If we had heard nothing by the last post today, then Marcus was going to travel to Brussels to find out what had happened.’ His voice was measured, but even from where she stood, Julia could see his hands shaking as they held his cane.
‘I sent letters, I promise you,’ Hal said. ‘But if you have not had those, you will not know who this is.’ He turned and held out his hand to Julia. ‘Mama, Father, may I present my wife, Julia, the niece of Sir Alfred Tresilian of Rochester. Julia, my parents, my younger sister Verity.’