“It is no secret that I have nothing but contempt for the Earl of Aberdeen. I don’t give a rap what his older sons do, but I don’t want young Arthur to turn out like his father. I feel a responsibility for him, because my mother died when he was only three. I even allow him to live at Bentley Priory in Stanmore. Believe me, Thomas, I will put the fear of God into the irresponsible young devil.”
Abercorn strode to the library door and spied his daughter hovering in the hall.
“Harry, get your mother, then come and sign the marriage contract.”
In a few moments, his daughter and his wife came into the library. Thomas Anson stood so that the ladies could be seated in the brassbound Regency armchairs that would soon be restored to Shugborough.
Abercorn signed the contract, then handed it to Harriet. “I don’t think I need to caution you to read the document carefully before you put your signature on it.”
Harry dutifully began to read and when she got to the part where Thomas was to receive the books, paintings, and furniture that had once belonged to Shugborough, she raised her eyes to her groom. Her look of surprise quickly turned to admiration that he had negotiated so astutely.
Harry lowered her eyes and turned to the second page. When she read the part where her husband was to bequeath Shugborough to her in his will, she gave him a beatific smile, and a lump came into her throat at his touching generosity. Thomas is proving beyond a doubt that he loves me.
She signed the document and handed it to Thomas so he could affix his signature.
He signed his name with a flourish and passed it to the duchess.
Abercorn declared, “You are only witnessing that you saw them sign the contract, Lu. You are not approving its contents.”
The duchess quickly scanned the terms, and though she was shocked at Thomas Anson’s shrewdness, she kept it to herself. She affixed her signature and smiled graciously. “Thank you for allowing me to keep Émile, though I think it beyond the pale to snatch away my library chairs.”
Everyone laughed, though they knew she was being perfectly honest.
While Abercorn called for champagne, Thomas took Harry’s hand. “I’ve made arrangements for us to be married at St. George’s Chapel tomorrow at five o’clock.”
He looked at the duke and duchess. “I’m sorry everything has to be rushed.”
“We understand perfectly, Thomas,” Louisa assured him. “Harry has been packing all day. Let us hope that the warm weather stays with us so you can enjoy a couple of weeks at Shugborough.”
Abercorn poured the champagne and they toasted the happy couple. “Why don’t the two of you spend the night at Campden Hill before you set off for Staffordshire? The place has been sitting empty since Rachel left for Ireland.”
“Thank you, Your Grace. That is most generous of you.”
“Rubbish! Unbend a little, Thomas. From now on, you must call me Lu.”
Abercorn took the empty champagne glass from his wife’s hand and led her to the door. “I think the young people would appreciate a little privacy, Lady Lu.”
When they were alone, Harry suddenly felt shy and absurdly tongue-tied, though she was breathless with excitement.
Thomas drew her into his arms and when he kissed her, she opened her lips in eager invitation. She went weak at the mastery of his mouth, and clung to him for support when the kiss ended. “Oh, it’s true—opposites do attract!”
The following day at four, Thomas, dressed in his best gray suit, stood before his mirror and attached a white rosebud to his lapel. He was about to leave for St. George’s when his mother came to his bedchamber door and silently beckoned him.
She led the way to her husband’s bedchamber, opened the door, and closed it firmly behind them once they were inside.
Thomas approached the bed and looked down. He covered his father’s hand with his own, and though it was still warm, he knew that his father was dead. Thomas closed his eyes. “I can’t believe it.” He removed his hand. “Why did it have to happen now?”
“It is a fateful day, Thomas,” Barbara Anson murmured.
The wedding will be canceled. He clenched his fists and vowed, “I will not allow his death to spoil Harriet’s wedding day.” He turned to face his mother. “Will you help me to keep this quiet until tomorrow? Can you stay here and keep it from Norton until after midnight? First thing in the morning, send word to me at Campden Hill, Kensington. I will return immediately so we can carry out the necessary arrangements.”
“I think that’s a wise plan, Thomas.” She looked over at the bed. “He can’t do any more harm to us now.”
Let us fervently hope not.
He enfolded his mother in his arms and held her against his heart. “I’m sorry you’ll miss the wedding, but the nuptial ceremony will be short. Just a formal exchange of vows to make it a legal marriage.” He kissed her brow. “Remember that I love you.”
Thomas awaited the Hamiltons in the vestry of the chapel. When they arrived, he took Harriet’s hands in his and lifted them to his lips, one at a time. “My mother deeply regrets that she cannot join us for the ceremony. My father’s condition has deteriorated and she feels it is her duty to stay with him.”
Harry squeezed his hands, telling him she understood.
“That is most admirable of her, Thomas,” the duchess declared.
Hand in hand, the bride and groom approached the small chapel altar. Jane and James, who was leaving for Oxford shortly, followed them. Harry’s sister was maid of honor and her brother was acting as groomsman. Beatrix and D’Arcy were not yet in London. The Duke and Duchess of Abercorn stood a short distance behind their children.
Harry was wearing her presentation gown. I’m so thankful it is all white. Perhaps Fate knew it would be my wedding gown.
The reverend entered the chapel through the adjoining door of St. George’s Church.
He greeted the noble family with great deference and opened his prayer book.
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God, to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony.”
Harry gazed at the small window above the altar and decided she liked the chapel far better than the vaulted, cavernous church where Trixy had been married.
“Thomas Nathaniel Anson, wilt thou have this woman to thy wedded wife? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?”
“I will.”
His deep voice sent a shiver through her. I didn’t know his middle name was Nathaniel. That’s a lovely name. Mine is horrible.
“Harriet Georgina Hamilton, wilt thou have this man to thy wedded husband? Wilt thou obey him, and serve him, love, honor, and keep him, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?”
“I will.” Before God, I pledge that I love him with all my heart. She glanced up at his dark hair and eyes, in marked contrast with his gray suit. His features were solemn. I promised to obey him. I warrant it would take a great deal of courage to disobey him.
“Who giveth this woman to be married to this man?”
James Hamilton, Duke of Abercorn, stepped forward and said firmly, “I do.”
Harry’s eyes met her father’s. She fervently hoped that Thomas would come to love her as much as her father did.
The couple pledged their troths, and then Thomas produced a small gold ring and slid it onto her finger.
“For as much as Thomas and Harriet have consented together in holy wedlock, I pronounce that they be man and wife together, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.”
Thomas dipped his head and placed a chaste kiss on his bride’s lips. Harry lifted her bouquet of roses and breathed in deeply. Her eyes shone like stars. I smell jasmine and honeysuckle!
As the newlywed couple moved to a side table to sign the register, organ music piped in f
rom the church filled the air. When they reached the vestry, Abercorn kissed his daughter and shook hands with his new son-in-law.
Louisa kissed her daughter and hugged Thomas. “I sent word ahead to Campden Hill to prepare a wedding supper for around eight o’clock. You should be there just after seven if you leave right away.”
When they moved outside, Lady Lu showered them with rose petals.
Harry looked at Jane. “Did you bring the rice?”
Her sister nodded and scattered the rice.
Harry laughed up at Thomas. “It’s a treat for the pigeons.”
They all made their way behind St. George’s Church, where Riley had transferred Harry’s baggage to Anson’s phaeton. Abercorn wrapped a fur cloak about his daughter’s shoulders, and Thomas took up the reins. “Thank you for everything.”
“Good-bye, darling. Enjoy your honeymoon,” her mother cried.
As everyone waved the newlyweds on their way, Harry tossed Jane her bridal bouquet. Then she turned around to see what the thudding was. She began to laugh. “They’ve tied a string of old boots to the carriage!”
“We have your brother James to thank, I believe.”
“In a conspiracy with Riley, no doubt. It’s an old Irish tradition.”
He slipped his arm about her and drew her close. “I think it’s rather touching.” He saw her fingers twist her wedding ring. “I promise to buy you a diamond soon.”
“I’d much rather you spent your money on restoring Shugborough’s treasures.”
His arm tightened. “That’s precisely why I married you, Harry.”
It took just over an hour to get to Kensington, and when they arrived, it was starting to go dark. Thomas drove up to the stables, and when the head groom came out, he helped the man to unharness his matched pair of carriage horses.
“I’ll rub them down and feed them, Lord Anson. Yer not dressed for mucking about the stables.” The man’s broad grin told them he knew they had just been married.
Harry was impressed when Thomas carried her luggage to the house, when there were plenty of servants willing to do it. He set her bags down and went to get his own.
Campden Hill’s housekeeper, who’d known Harry since she was a baby, hugged her and wished her every happiness. “Since Lady Rachel’s been gone, we’ve been rattling about the place looking for things to occupy us. Cook and I enjoyed making you a special wedding supper. I’ll let you know when it’s ready.” She glanced up the staircase. “I thought you’d like the yellow room. It’s got such a nice, big bed.”
Harry blushed. “Thank you, Mrs. Bailey.” Bugger and balls, I’m all aflutter.
Thomas brought his own bag, then picked up one of Harry’s and headed to the stairs.
“I’ll show you which room we are in,” she said breathlessly, and ran up the steps. She led the way to the east wing. “This is the master bedchamber. It gets the morning sun; that’s why it’s called the yellow room. The windows overlook the lake.”
“I’ll fetch the rest of your bags.”
When Thomas returned, Harry was standing looking out the window. “It’s such a pretty view, but you can’t enjoy it tonight. It’s completely dark outside.”
“You are the only pretty view I wish to enjoy tonight.”
Harry laughed. “You are not usually given to flowery speeches.”
“I’ve hidden depths you’ve yet to discover. Perhaps you bring out the gallant in me.”
He took the fur from her shoulders and laid it on the window seat. “You are a very beautiful bride, Harriet. I’m a lucky man.” He brushed his lips across her brow.
“Oh, don’t start kissing me,” she said breathlessly. “We have to get through dinner.”
“In that case,” he said solemnly, “I think we’d better go downstairs.”
A small table was set for two, side by side. Thomas held her chair and lightly caressed her shoulders when she took her seat. Then he moved his chair and his place setting so that he could sit across from Harry, because he enjoyed watching her eat.
He lifted the bottle of chilled champagne and poured them each a glass. “I toast the lovely Lady Anson.” Tomorrow you will learn that you are the Countess of Lichfield.
Harry raised her glass. “And I toast the gallant Lord Anson.”
The first dish was sautéed shrimp and tiny scallops in a heavenly lemon sauce. Harry dipped in her finger and was about to taste it when Thomas captured her hand, drew her finger to his mouth, and licked it. “Sinful.”
When her lips curved into a smile, he knew the teasing gesture had pleased her. When she put the last scallop in her mouth, she closed her eyes. “Mmm. If I weren’t on my best behavior tonight, I’d pick up the dish and lick it clean.”
His eyes danced. “I wasn’t aware you were capable of restraint.”
“I warrant one of the reasons you married me was to bring mayhem and madness into your sober, straitlaced existence.”
She’s losing her shyness. He hid his amusement. That certainly didn’t take long!
Mrs. Bailey wheeled in a tray and lifted the silver cover to reveal a brace of roasted game birds stuffed with chestnuts. There was also a salad made from greens grown in Campden Hill’s kitchen garden. “I made the special wine and honey dressing you like.”
“Thank you. . . . That’s so thoughtful.”
“Nonsense! Everything should be special on your wedding day.”
“Mrs. Bailey is right.” I’ll do my damndest to make everything special for you. He watched with delight as Harry picked up the breast of roast game with her fingers, and devoured it with relish. She held up the wishbone. “Pull it with me?”
He reached across the small table, took hold of one end, and pressed down his thumb. He was left holding the smaller half.
“Oh, I get my wish! I’m sorry you didn’t win, Thomas.”
“I already have my wish,” he said gallantly.
Her mouth curved with mischief. “Whatever happened to that dark, dominant devil who wanted to tan my arse?”
“The night isn’t over yet,” he teased.
She wiped her fingers on her napkin and sighed with repletion. “I couldn’t eat another thing.”
When Mrs. Bailey and the cook wheeled in the dessert, Harry was so moved it brought a lump to her throat. “You baked us a wedding cake! Thank you both from the bottom of my heart.” She looked at her husband. “We have to cut it together.”
They got up from the table and stood together before the two-tiered cake, decorated with candied violets, and real white roses. He picked up the silver knife and handed it to Harry; then he placed his hand over hers and they made the first cut.
Thomas gifted the two women with a rare smile. “You must share it with us.”
Harry brought two glasses from a side table. “Wedding cake must be accompanied by champagne. It’s the law!”
“She’s a law unto herself,” he told the women, as he poured them wine.
“She is that, Lord Anson,” they both agreed, and lifted their glasses.
He watched Harry pick off the candied violets, one by one, and eat them.
“Is that your favorite part?”
“Oh no, my favorite is the almond paste. I have a voracious appetite for it.”
Once I get a taste of you, Harry, I warrant my appetite will be voracious.
Up in the master bedchamber, Harry said the first thing that came into her head. “You carried up all this luggage and I won’t need any of it except a nightgown. In the morning, you’ll have to carry it all back down. I can’t wait to see Shugborough again.”
“I carried it up to impress you.” He felt regretful that she wouldn’t see Shugborough tomorrow.
Harry opened her case and took out a white silk nightgown. Thomas removed his jacket and waistcoat. Then he took off his silk neckcloth and unbuttoned his shirt. “Let me help you.” He moved behind her and unfastened the back of her gown. She stepped out of it, and stood before him in her frilled white pettic
oat, which she removed herself.
She took both to the wardrobe. “I think I’ll leave these here. No point in packing them and taking them with me.” She was now clad in her white satin corset and stockings.
“You must take the corset.” It was a declaration. He stepped close and took the pins from her hair. The dark silken curls cascaded into his hands and he shuddered with desire. His fingers unfastened the strings at her waist, the corset fell away, and her breasts spilled into his cupped palms. “You are sinfully lovely,” he whispered.
She stood on tiptoe and wound her arms about his neck. He put his hands beneath her bum, and carried her to the bed. He sat her on the edge and slowly removed her stockings. When he saw her toes curl, he raised her foot to his lips and kissed her instep.
Harry wanted to scream with excitement. Her nightgown was forgotten as she reclined naked against the pillows and watched as Thomas undressed. When he was nude, she went weak at the sight of him. “Would you draw back the curtains and open the window? In the morning, I want the room to be bathed in sunlight.” I want us to be bathed in sunlight.
He raised the window and glanced at her over his shoulder.
“Thank you.” Then she confessed, “I wanted to see you walk across the room naked. And walk back again,” she added as her glance swept over him from his dark eyes to his glorious manhood. If I narrow my eyes, you look like a centaur. A shiver ran down her back at the thought of his body touching hers.
Thomas lay down and drew her into his arms. His kisses began at her temple; his lips touched her eyelid, then brushed across her cheekbone. He blew warm breath on the tiny spirals of dark curls that clustered about her ear and whispered, “I smell roses.”
“I smell jasmine and honeysuckle,” she murmured breathlessly.
He captured her lips in a long, slow kiss. “You taste delicious.”
“Like champagne?”
“Yes, like wine . . . and woman.”
Impulsively, she set her tongue to his throat and licked his skin. “You taste like more.” Her tongue moved up to the cleft in his chin. “And more.” With the tip of her tongue, she traced his bottom lip. “And more, and more, and more.”
The Dark Earl Page 24