One Enchanted Evening (Marriage by Fairytale Book 2)

by Ruth Ann Nordin

  He was tempted to remind her that this room was already clean. They had worked on it a couple of days ago. But somehow, that didn’t seem appropriate.

  He took the cloth from her. “You know you can tell me anything, right? I’m your husband. If something is bothering you, I want to help you.”

  She let out an uneasy chuckle but didn’t pull away from him as he slipped his arm around her shoulders and drew her close to him. “Nothing’s bothering me. I suppose I’ve been a maid for so long that I got used to cleaning.”

  He knew she was lying, but he didn’t want to put a strain between them so he didn’t argue. So what if something was bothering her? It was probably insignificant. After all, it wasn’t like anything horrible had happened. Since he’d brought her here, they had taken walks, cleaned the entire place, and went to a ball. Everything had been wonderful. Ideal, even.

  So whatever was on her mind couldn’t be all that important. He was better off letting the matter go. He should focus on having an enjoyable day with her instead.

  He kissed her cheek. “I have good news.”

  “Oh?”

  “Remember the Duke of Larkinson?”

  “He’s the one Stephen wants to work out a business arrangement with.”

  “Yes. As it turns out, he agreed to work something out with Stephen. And,” he gave her an excited squeeze, “he’ll let me in on the arrangement, too.”

  She smiled then, and he was happy to note some of the familiar spark had returned to her eyes. “That is good news. I’m glad the ball proved to be such a fruitful evening for you.”

  “It was fruitful in more ways than that. I arrived there with you on my arm, and better yet, you left with me. I didn’t want to mention it at the time, but I noticed the way a few gentlemen glanced your way. If I wasn’t married to you, I would have been worried they would fight me for your attention.”

  She laughed. “Lewis, there could never be anyone for me but you.”

  “Well, I’m just glad I already secured your love.”

  “You have. I’m yours. Always and forever.”

  He kissed her again. “Why don’t we take a walk? We can get something to eat while we’re out.” Since the Duke of Larkinson had an impressive reputation for earning money, Lewis felt better about spending a little more on food, and it would be nice to give Marcy a reprieve from cooking.

  “It’s getting late.”

  “It’s not that late. It’s only three in the afternoon.”

  “Yes, but if we went for a walk and then got something to eat, it’d be late when we returned. I’d rather make something here and be able to play cards before retiring to bed.”

  Given how much work she’d done with the place, she was probably tired. It didn’t help that he’d kept her up late last night. Now that he thought about it, the poor thing hadn’t gotten much rest.

  “You’re right,” he replied. “We should take some time to rest up. You’ve worked hard.” Glancing at the cloth in his hand, he added, “You’re still working hard.”

  “It’s a force of habit. A maid keeps busy at all times.”

  “I know. Which is why you deserve a break.” He paused as he considered what they might do. It was too early to make dinner. Finally, he asked, “What would you like to do?”

  “I’d like to go upstairs and be in your bed.”

  Her answer surprised him. Yes, it delighted him. There was no denying that. He couldn’t think of anything he’d rather do than make love to her, but he’d assumed she’d want to play cards or some other game. Lovemaking required some physical effort, and she’d just said she needed rest.

  As if she detected his unasked question, she replied, “I like being close to you, Lewis. When we’re together, I feel as if there’s no one else but you and me. I want that right now.”

  Well, when she put it like that, he wasn’t about to deny her what she wanted. He gave her another kiss before he led her up the stairs.

  ***

  I know what you did six years ago to the decanter.

  No matter how often Marcy read the words, they didn’t change. She released her breath and glanced up from the missive she was holding. Dawn had just come, and she was sitting in the small room off to the side of her bedchamber. She’d spent the night in Lewis’ bed. But despite being in his arms, her sleep had been erratic.

  Her dreams had been fitful. She’d been haunted by images of her step-sister holding a decanter in the middle of the ballroom and pointing an accusing finger in her direction. She didn’t think she’d gotten more than a couple hours of sleep the entire night, and she wasn’t tired enough to return to bed.

  She glanced out the window. The morning was cloudy. The atmosphere was gray and dismal. Rain would soon be coming. Add to that how chilly it was this morning, and she couldn’t help but think of how fitting the weather was to the turmoil raging inside of her.

  I was such a fool. I should have known I was going to be caught if I came to London.

  With a shiver, she wrapped her arms protectively around herself. Where was Pandora? Had she married the Duke of Philton? If Marcy searched for the duke, would she find her step-sister?

  Did she want to find Pandora?

  I have to. I have to know where she is. How can I figure out her next move if I don’t know where she is?

  Right now, Pandora had the advantage. Pandora knew where she was. She had addressed the missive to Lady Pruett. She knew about Marcy’s marriage to Lewis. Plus, she knew where Marcy lived.

  It was the ball. She was at the ball. I didn’t see her, but she saw me. She inquired about me, and from there, she learned everything she needed to know.

  It was a shame other people didn’t do masquerade balls like Stephen and Patricia did. If they did, then this wouldn’t be an issue right now.

  Marcy scanned the townhouses around her. Pandora could be across the street from her, or she could be on the other side of town. Marcy had no way of knowing where Pandora was this morning, but she had no doubt Pandora was thinking of her. For all Marcy knew, Pandora was looking over here at this exact moment.

  Marcy shivered again and turned from the window. What was she going to do?

  The first thing you need to do is make sure Lewis doesn’t see this missive.

  She turned her attention back to the parchment in her hand. If Lewis saw this, he would ask her what it was about. And what was she supposed to say to that?

  She read the message one more time. Not that it would do any good, of course. But for some strange reason she couldn’t explain, she kept thinking if she read it often enough, it would change. And, of course, it stayed the same. No matter how much she willed it, it stayed the same.

  She needed to get rid of the missive. She thought about throwing it out, but that was too risky. What she needed was a way to get rid of it so that no one could ever read it.

  Burn it. If you burn it, it’ll be destroyed for good.

  Yes! That was perfect. She hurried to the main part of her bedchamber and retrieved the candle. She checked the door connecting her and Lewis’ bedchamber. Good. It was still shut.

  Being as quiet as possible, she returned to the small room and closed the door. She lit the candle then placed the missive over the small flame. This was the only way to get rid of it forever.

  But what if Pandora sends more missives? What then?

  She would just have to deal with that if it happened. Right now, she could only focus on one problem at a time. She couldn’t think beyond this moment. Doing so would only cause her more grief than she could handle.

  She watched as the flame took hold of the parchment. It swept up the paper, an angry hot fire that made Marcy unwittingly think of Pandora’s wrath. Pandora had to be angry at her. Marcy killed her mother. Marcy had been angry with Pandora’s mother for killing her father. Marcy recalled the bright red fierceness of her anger the day she’d found the will and hemlock. And it was because of the blinding rage that had built up within her during the cou
rse of the day that she’d put hemlock into her step-mother’s decanter.

  Justice had been delivered. Marcy had given to her step-mother the same penalty her step-mother had seen fit to give Marcy’s father. An eye for an eye. A tooth for a tooth. Justice wasn’t about mercy. It was about reaping what was sown.

  And what will you reap, Marcy? Even if you changed your mind at the last minute, you changed it too late. Your step-mother is dead. There’s no going back and changing it. Don’t you think your punishment is coming?

  A tear slid down her cheek.

  If only she could go back and do it all differently.

  The flames reached up to her fingertips, reminding Marcy that she was still holding the burning missive. She dropped it to the floor and threw off her nightshirt so she could snuff out the flames. She lifted her nightshirt. Only a few ashes remained. She would sweep those up later.

  She smoothed out the nightshirt. As she expected, the small fire had burnt a hole in it. There was no saving it. She would have to make rags of it. If there was one thing she’d learned from her penance as a maid, it was how to find a good use for everything. Little went to waste.

  She remained by the ashes for a minute, taking the time to regain her composure. Lewis would be waking up soon. She had to act as if everything was fine. Somehow, someway, she had to pretend like Pandora wasn’t watching her.

  Pandora might come to this townhouse for a visit. She might not send a missive next time.

  She shivered.

  No, she wouldn’t think of it. Not right now. One problem at a time. If she got overwhelmed, she wouldn’t be able to think clearly, and right now, she needed to think clearly.

  She went over to the candle and blew the flame out.

  One thing at a time. Focus on one thing at a time.

  At the moment, she needed to return to Lewis. She couldn’t worry about what Pandora was going to do next.

  She wiped away the few ashes that had gotten on the desk while she was burning the missive. Then she took the candle and returned it to its original place. Assured that Lewis wouldn’t be able to see what she’d done, she folded up the nightshirt and placed it in the top drawer of her dresser so she’d remember to make rags out of it later.

  She managed to get back into Lewis’ bed without waking him. She thought about going to sleep. Perhaps she might be able to get an hour’s more sleep in. But after ten minutes, she was still wide awake. This was pointless. She wasn’t going to sleep.

  She turned to Lewis and watched him as he slept. There was a hint of a smile on his lips. Sleep came so easy to him, but then, he didn’t have any deep, dark secrets to hide. Why wouldn’t his sleep be sweet?

  She didn’t realize she was crying until she felt a teardrop slide down her face. She quickly brushed the tears away in case he woke up and found her crying. He’d want to know what was wrong, and there was no way she could tell him. She loved the way he made her feel. He made her feel as if the past had never happened. She was the person she wanted to be when he was with her.

  I love you, Lewis. No matter what happens, that will never change.

  Once she could trust herself not to shed any more tears, she snuggled up to him. Instinctively, he put his arm around her and drew her closer. His embrace was warm. She had the image of being wrapped up in a cocoon. The rest of the world couldn’t touch her. She was sheltered from everything that haunted her. Nothing bad could reach her here.

  If only this could last forever.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Lewis sat across from Marcy at the small table in the drawing room during breakfast. She’d made porridge. Usually, he didn’t like porridge, but she added something sweet to make it taste better. To drink, she’d made black tea and added some honey to it. She probably did that because he’d mentioned liking sweeter things the other day.

  When she glanced up at him, he smiled. “This is good. I’m glad you weren’t Stephen’s cook. I never got to meet his cook. It was to my benefit you were Patricia’s lady’s maid.”

  She returned his smile. “From the moment I met Patricia, I enjoyed my job much more. She was always pleasant to talk to.”

  “We should go out there for a visit. I know Stephen will never venture into London because of his mask, and I don’t think Patricia would want to come if he’s not with her.”

  “I’d love to see them. I miss them sometimes, especially Patricia.”

  “Why don’t we go there tomorrow? I’m supposed to meet with the Duke of Larkinson this afternoon. I should have some useful information to give Stephen after this visit.”

  “Is this going to be a day’s visit, or will we spend the night there?”

  “Usually, I spend one or two nights at Stephen’s manor when I make the trip. The ride out there takes a good hour. I don’t want to spend two hours in a carriage in a single day.”

  “Two hours isn’t a long time, but I like the idea of staying out there for a couple of days.”

  “I’ll admit the time didn’t seem quite so long when you were with me, but an hour is a long time to sit in a carriage all alone.”

  “It’s a good thing you won’t have to be alone this time.”

  “It is. We’ll leave first thing in the morning.”

  He didn’t realize she’d been tense until he noted the way her shoulders relaxed. He watched her for a long moment. He wasn’t very good when it came to figuring out if something was bothering someone, but it seemed to him that something was bothering her. Maybe she missed Patricia. Maybe she’d gotten lonely. It wasn’t like she had any ladies to visit. When he left the townhouse, she remained here, often cleaning or sewing something.

  “I hope you don’t think I’m one of those husbands who want their wives to be at home all the time,” he told her after he swallowed some tea. “I know it’s awkward to have someone visit you here since we have no butler or maid, but if you want to visit a lady you met the other night at the ball, you have my permission to do so.”

  He couldn’t be sure, but he thought he saw a flicker of panic in her eyes. She glanced away from him, as if trying to think of an appropriate response, then turned her gaze back to him. The panic in her eyes had been replaced with a calm assurance.

  “I’m happy being here,” she said. “I like how peaceful it is. I enjoy tending to this townhouse. It’s soothing.”

  He couldn’t imagine what was so soothing about it. He, for one, was relieved the place was suitable for visitors again. Granted, they weren’t going to have any until they could at least hire a butler, but at least he could walk through the rooms without feeling a sense of dread over how unkempt everything was. She had done a marvelous job in making everything sparkle and shine. Yes, he had helped, but to be fair, she’d known the tricks on how to get even the most stubborn of dirt out of something.

  Even so, he never liked being here all by himself. The entire place was solemn and a bit eerie when it was just him. He wouldn’t want to stay here alone while she went out to visit other people. He had assumed she must feel the same way. But then, she did seem content to be alone. So maybe, for her, she really did feel at peace about the situation.

  “Well,” he began as he put his spoon back into his half-eaten porridge, “as long as you know I don’t expect you to stay here all the time, I’m happy with whatever you do.”

  She reached across the table and rubbed his arm. “I know. I’m not a prisoner here.”

  He placed his hand over hers and squeezed it. “I want you to be happy.”

  “I am. I’m happy because I’m with you.”

  He released her hand, and as she sat back, he said, “I don’t have to meet the Duke of Larkinson until two. Why don’t we take a walk through Hyde Park?”

  She glanced at the window. “It looks like it’s going to rain.”

  “We can take a parasol. You can use it.”

  She hesitated then asked, “What will you use?”

  He shrugged. “I’ll have a hat. I don’t mind if it rains on
me.” Unable to resist teasing her, he wiggled his eyebrows. “If I get wet, I’d have to take off my clothes. You could help.”

  Though she chuckled, he sensed an uncertainty in it. “It’s silly to risk getting stuck in the rain. It’s chilly outside today. That’s why I made a fire in this room.” She gestured to the nearby fireplace. “Would it be nicer if we sat by the fire and read a book?”

  He grimaced. “I don’t like to read.”

  “You say that because you haven’t read a book you’ve enjoyed. What kind of things are you interested in?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t want to read anything at all. I’m not like Stephen. I don’t acquire books. The only thing I have to read in this house are biographies my father loved, and I’m not interested in other people’s lives.”

  “We don’t have to read. We could just sit by the fire and talk.”

  “Or we could go outside and talk. I know it’s chilly this morning, but we have coats.”

  Her smile faltered, and he could tell she was trying to find a way to convince him to stay here.

  “What is it?” he asked, his tone gentle. “Why do you want to stay here all of a sudden? We’ve been taking walks all this time.”

  “It’s been warm and sunny all of the other times,” she said, her reply coming a little too fast.

  If he was right, that spark of panic had returned to her eyes.

  “What about a carriage ride?” she suggested. “Then we won’t risk getting stuck outside if it rains? It’s not good to be caught in the rain if it’s chilly. You could end up getting sick. I don’t want anything bad happening to you.”

  Noting the sincerity in her voice, he felt a surge of pleasure flow through him. She really loved him. Yes, he’d known she loved him, but it didn’t occur to him just how deep her love went for him until now. She would do anything for him.

  He didn’t know what he’d done to earn her devotion, but he was going to do everything possible to be worthy of her. If she wanted to stay inside, the least he could do was agree to it.