The Earl's Runaway Bride

by Sarah Mallory

  ‘Welcome to Rosthorne, my lady.’

  Even as he spoke the carriage emerged from the belt of trees and Felicity had her first glimpse of her new home. The sun, which had been fitfully breaking through the clouds all day, now made a final, blazing appearance, as if determined to present Rosthorne Hall at its best.

  The house stood on a slight rise. It was built of red brick and creamy stonework with three rows of windows that gleamed in the evening sunlight. A stone pediment containing the Rosthorne coat of arms stood over a central doorway, which opened on to a set of shallow stone steps. From the neat square windows of the semi-basement to the hipped roof with its dormer windows and tall chimney stacks, the whole house had such symmetry that Felicity thought it quite perfect.

  ‘You like it, I am glad,’ said Nathan, when she had voiced her opinion. ‘There have been some alterations and redecoration to the interior—for one thing the dining room is now much closer to the kitchens, so the food arrives hot at the table, but the outside is very much as it was when the house was built more than a century ago.’

  As the carriage came to a halt, a crowd of servants came running out and lined up on the steps. Anxiety fluttered through Felicity and must have shown in her countenance because Nathan grinned at her.

  ‘They wish to welcome their new mistress,’ he explained as he helped her to alight. ‘You need only smile at them for now, my dear—Mrs Mercer will introduce them all to you tomorrow, isn’t that so, Mercer?’

  The stately butler waiting at the door to receive them allowed himself a fatherly smile.

  ‘Indeed it is, my lord. Mrs Carraway has given instructions that dinner should be put back an hour and has requested that you join her in the little drawing room, if you are not too exhausted from your journey.’

  Nathan looked a question at Felicity. She nodded and they followed the butler into the hall where Nathan tossed his hat and gloves on to a console table and a wooden-faced footman waited for Felicity to divest herself of her bonnet and pelisse. She tried not to cling to Nathan’s arm, but as he led her into the little drawing room her heart was beating a rapid and nervous tattoo against her ribs.

  The likeness between mother and son was very marked. They shared the same keen brown eyes and both had an abundance of brown hair tinted with reddish-gold, although the lady’s was also sprinkled liberally with grey. Mrs Carraway was sitting in a wing chair beside one of the room’s long windows, an embroidery frame between her hands. A tall, thin woman in an iron-grey gown with hair to match was sitting opposite, reading to her in a low voice. As they entered she stopped reading and looked up. A rather overweight spaniel emerged from behind the sofa and ran forward, barking. Mrs Carraway put down her embroidery and held out her hands to Nathan, smiling.

  ‘So you are here, and in good time, too. Norton said you would be, but I did not look to see you before dark.’

  Nathan bent to make a fuss of the spaniel gambolling around his ankles, then went forward to take her hands, kissing each one in turn and then her cheek. ‘Mama! I promised we would be here in time for dinner. Mrs Norton knows I am true to my word.’ He paused to acknowledge her companion. ‘The roads were clear; there was nothing to delay us. And how are you, Mama? Well, I hope?’

  ‘I am very well, now you are come.’

  Felicity hung back, watching this interchange while the red-and-white spaniel snuffled around her feet.

  ‘You see, Mama, I have at last brought my wife home.’

  Felicity curtsied. ‘How do you do, ma’am?’

  Mrs Carraway held her hand out to her. ‘You must forgive me for not getting up. I am sure Nathan has told you I have a tiresome problem with my hip. Don’t mind Bella, she will soon lose interest in you once she knows you have no food for her.’

  ‘I do not mind her at all, ma’am,’ murmured Felicity, stooping to fondle the spaniel’s ears.

  ‘Well, that is fortunate,’ murmured Nathan, smiling, ‘because Bella has the run of the house.’ He clicked his fingers and the little dog ran over to him, gazing up adoringly with her big brown eyes while he scratched her head. ‘I bought her for Mama when I first joined up. Thought they would be company for each other.’

  ‘And she has been with me ever since,’ nodded Mrs Carraway. ‘She is very old now, of course. She has almost no sense of smell, and her eyes are growing weaker, but she is still my constant companion. Bella rarely leaves my side.’

  ‘Because you spoil her, Mama.’ He gave the dog a final pat and straightened. ‘You feed her far too many titbits.’

  ‘Perhaps I do, but I will not quarrel with you over that today, Nathan. I want to talk to your wife. Come along, my dear; come and sit over here where I can see you.’ She smiled as Felicity perched nervously on the edge of a chair. ‘Norton, I would be obliged if you would order refreshments to be sent up. And then you may take Bella out for her walk while I talk to Lady Rosthorne. That is, if you are not too tired after your long journey?’

  Felicity knew a craven impulse to say she was exhausted, but she suppressed it. In a very short time a jug of raspberry shrub had been provided for the ladies and Mrs Carraway ordered Nathan to go away and drink a tankard of ale with his steward, who had a mountain of notes to discuss with him.

  When she and Felicity were alone, Mrs Carraway fixed her dark eyes upon her guest and said gently, ‘Well, my dear, you have led my son a merry dance, have you not?’

  ‘Indeed, I am sorry for it, ma’am. I never intended to cause so much trouble.’ Felicity stared down at the cloudy liquid in her glass. ‘You have every right to condemn me.’

  Mrs Carraway was silent for a moment. ‘Any mother will tell you,’ she said at last, ‘that it is very hard to forgive an injury to one’s child. But I promised myself I would not judge you until I had met you. You have your chance to explain it all to me now, my dear. Nathan has, of course, told me his version of events, but only the barest details.’

  ‘Did he tell you I stole his money?’ asked Felicity bluntly.

  ‘He was very careful not to say so.’

  ‘I am no fortune hunter, ma’am, I assure you. I left him because…because he did not love me.’

  ‘Odd, then, that he should marry you.’

  ‘It was an act of chivalry, ma’am. He was in love with someone else. A—a married woman. When I found out, I was determined to go away. I needed the money he gave me to get to England and then…I was very ill for a while, you see, and there were doctors to be paid. I thought he would forget me.’

  ‘I thought he had,’ returned Mrs Carraway. ‘His attempts to find you evoked little interest and when he was obliged to return to the Peninsula, having heard nothing from you, I was more than happy to allow the matter to rest. After all, I had no real desire to find the woman who had deserted my son.’

  Felicity closed her eyes. ‘I am so sorry,’ she whispered.

  ‘The matter was forgotten. By the time Nathan became earl it was as if your marriage had never happened. Nathan never mentioned you, until a few months ago, when he came to tell me that you were alive and living in town.’

  ‘Was he…’ Felicity ran her tongue over her dry lips ‘…was he pleased to have found me?’

  ‘Perplexed, I think,’ Mrs Carraway said at last. ‘But he is determined to honour his obligations.’

  ‘Oh.’ That did not sound very encouraging. ‘I never meant for him to find me again, only…’

  ‘Only?’

  The gentle understanding in the lady’s countenance invited Felicity to confide. She said, ‘Lady Souden took me to London with her and once I had seen Nathan, I…I could not help myself. I wanted to see him again and again. I knew it was dangerous, that I should go away, but I could not resist. It was inevitable, I suppose, that he should discover me.’ She spread her hands. ‘And here I am.’

  ‘Yes, here you are,’ agreed Mrs Carraway. ‘You love him very much, do you not?’

  Felicity gave a little sigh. ‘Yes, I do. Very much indeed.’ She leaned
forward, saying earnestly, ‘Oh, ma’am, if only he will let me, I mean to be a good wife to him. It was very foolish of me to run away, but now I really do want to make him happy.’

  Mrs Carraway watched her and after a long moment she nodded, apparently satisfied. ‘Yes, my dear, I think I believe you.’

  There was a soft knock on the door.

  ‘May I come in?’ Nathan hovered in the doorway. ‘Collins has nothing for me that cannot wait until the morrow.’

  ‘Then by all means join us, Nathan.’ Mrs Carraway looked at the clock. ‘I was about to summon Norton to take me to my room, and you two must change for dinner. I told Mercer to lay covers on the table in the small parlour,’ she added. ‘Much cosier for just two of you.’

  ‘Oh, will you not be joining us, ma’am?’ asked Felicity.

  ‘Not tonight, my dear. I am a little tired, so Norton will bring my supper to my room. Besides, I think the two of you should have some time alone.’

  Chapter Thirteen

  The dining table in the small parlour was capable of seating only four couples in comfort but to Felicity, entering the room upon her husband’s arm, there seemed a vast expanse of white linen between the two places set at each end of the table. There was also an inordinate amount of silver on display, including an oversize salt cellar and mustard pot, a pair of bell-shaped goblets, a variety of candlesticks and a very ornate wine cooler.

  Nathan’s lips twitched and his glance flickered over Felicity. He turned to address the butler.

  ‘Are you trying to impress Lady Rosthorne with all this magnificence?’ He murmured a few brief instructions before leading Felicity back to the drawing room.

  ‘Is that your normal style of dining?’ asked Felicity, looking up at him with eyes that were at once apprehensive and wondering. Nathan was quick to reassure her.

  ‘When we have visitors of consequence, perhaps, but they would be entertained in the dining room, not the little parlour.’ He chuckled. ‘Poor Mercer. He was here in my uncle’s day, and the late earl enjoyed a great deal more ceremony than I care for. I am sorry to delay your dinner, my dear, but I think you will find it much more comfortable once Mercer has carried out my orders.’

  When they returned to the parlour a short while later, the table had been transformed. Most of the gleaming silver had been cleared away and the covers had been laid at one end of the table only with a place for Felicity set on Nathan’s right hand. A cheerful fire crackled in the hearth and instead of the glare of dozens of candles, the room was illuminated only by those in the gilded girandoles on the walls and one carefully placed branched candlestick on the table.

  ‘That is much better,’ Nathan approved.

  He led Felicity forward and held her chair for her himself before taking his place at the head of the table. After the soup she took a little of the fish and allowed Nathan to carve her a few slices of chicken. At first she was too nervous to eat more than a few mouthfuls from the array of dishes spread out on the table, but Nathan’s quiet attentions and gentle manner soon put her at her ease. She refused a second glass of wine, in favour of a glass of water, but when the dishes for the second course appeared she took a small helping of the fricassee and a little of the plum pudding.

  Conversation was desultory. Nathan was very aware of Mercer’s silent presence behind him at the sideboard. Ostensibly the butler was polishing glasses, but Nathan knew he was listening attentively to every word that was spoken.

  ‘We must hold a ball, my dear, to introduce you to the neighbourhood, but I would as lief wait a little while, until we are more settled.

  ‘There must be an announcement, of course; I shall send something to the London newspapers and journals tomorrow, but I see no reason for any formal entertaining until the new year.’

  ‘As you wish, my lord.’

  ‘Of course, it may be impossible to keep my aunt Appleby away,’ he mused. ‘She lives not twenty miles from here and will insist upon driving over to hear the whole story for herself.’ He laughed. ‘Do not look so horrified, I shall not allow her to bully you.’ He reached out and covered her hand with his own. ‘I shall not allow anyone to hurt you.’

  The sudden change in tone and the warm grasp of his fingers brought the blood rushing to Felicity’s cheeks. She raised her eyes to his but looked away immediately, for the intense glow in his eyes made her suddenly very shy. Nathan squeezed her hand before releasing her and they sat in silence while the covers were removed to reveal the highly polished mahogany table. A number of pretty little sweetmeat dishes were placed on its gleaming surface. Nathan raised his hand and signalled to the butler.

  ‘Leave the wines and glasses on the table, if you please. I will serve my lady. You may go now; I shall not need you again tonight.’

  Perhaps it was the removal of the snow-white linen that made the room seem smaller, and a little darker, but there was a different atmosphere in the parlour once she and Nathan were alone. She was intensely aware of him sitting beside her. She need only reach out her hand and she could touch him.

  She felt a sudden rush of affection for him. He was her husband, and he was exerting himself so much for her comfort.

  This is my life now, she thought. Serena Ansell and all the problems of the summer seemed as distant as the moon.

  He pulled one of the little dishes closer. ‘These confits are made by a French émigré in London. I have them sent down for my mother, she is especially fond of them.’

  Felicity shook her head. ‘I do not think…’

  He reached out and picked up a small shell-shape between his long fingers. ‘Try it.’ He held it up to her mouth. ‘It is chocolate.’

  Felicity’s lips parted and he slid the small, fragrant sweetmeat into her mouth.

  ‘There,’ he said, smiling. ‘Do you like it?’

  She could only nod, her mouth still full of the rich, velvety confection.

  ‘Good. Now let me find you a little wine to follow it. Which shall it be, the claret, port, or…?’ He reached out for one of the decanters. ‘Madeira, I think.’

  Felicity watched him pour the wine into two glasses. ‘I have never tried that,’ she admitted.

  ‘Then you shall do so now, and we shall drink a toast, to many such nights as this.’ He handed her a glass and she sipped at it, enjoying the slightly nutty flavour and warmth in her throat as she swallowed. Nathan was watching her, waiting for her opinion.

  ‘I like it, sir. Very much.’

  Nathan smiled, the slow curving of his lips drawing an answering smile from Felicity.

  Sitting within the golden glow of the candlelight, they began to talk. In response to Nathan’s gentle questions she found herself telling him about her years with Lady Souden, describing the joys and frustrations of life as a governess, albeit a well-loved one. She was encouraged by his mellow mood to ask Nathan about his work on the estates. She sipped at her wine and listened attentively as he talked to her of his various houses and the improvements he had put in progress. His deep voice flowed over and around her, smooth as the chocolate he had given her. She watched him, observing the animation with which he spoke of his plans for new building works, better drainage and crop rotation.

  ‘I think you love your role as Earl Rosthorne,’ she ventured when he paused to refill their glasses.

  ‘It was a little daunting at first, but I have some good people around me, like Collins, my steward here. There is much to be done, it is a lifetime’s work.’ He met her eyes. ‘And you can help me, Fee, and you will.’

  She returned his look, her spirits singing.

  ‘There is nothing I should like more, Nathan.’

  ‘Good. Then you must come riding with me—get to know the land and the people. That is the first step.’

  She sipped at her Madeira. A warm glow was spreading through her, making her feel comfortable, and happy and…reckless. Nathan gestured towards the sweetmeats.

  ‘Would my lady care for another?’

  ‘No.�
� She put down her glass. ‘It is my turn.’

  She selected a sugared plum and held it out to him. Smiling, Nathan opened his mouth. Her eyes widened as his teeth closed gently on her finger. He reached up to capture her hand and with infinite care he began to press kisses on her palm. Slowly he moved his mouth to the inside of her wrist, then placed a series of butterfly-light kisses along her arm towards the hinge of her elbow.

  Felicity stilled. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and tried not to move. The touch of his mouth on her skin was sending little shocks through her. A pleasurable lightness was pooling in her belly. She fixed her eyes upon him. The candlelight reflected in the red-gold tints in his hair and enhanced the strong lines of his countenance. She marvelled at the concentration on his face as he gave his attention to the soft white skin of her arm.

  ‘Oh, heavens,’ she whispered, unable to contain herself.

  Immediately he looked up. ‘Do you not like that?’

  ‘No—yes,’ she confessed. ‘Too much.’

  To her disappointment he released her hand.

  ‘I should go,’ she said, her voice not quite steady. ‘It is time for me to retire to the drawing room.’

  ‘What, would you leave me here in solitary splendour to enjoy my brandy?’

  ‘It is the custom, my lord.’

  ‘In general, of course, but not tonight.’

  ‘N-no?’

  The warmth was spreading through her again, but this time it was caused not by the wine but by the look in Nathan’s eyes. He rose and held out his hand to her. Silently she gave him her own and his fingers closed around it, safe. Secure. She followed him out of the room and up the dark stairs, the only light coming from the bedroom candle that Nathan picked up from the hall table as he passed. Her heart was hammering hard against her ribs. It was five long years since she had been in Nathan’s bed. Then he had been very patient with her. What would he expect of her now? She knew so little, she might as well be his bride of five days rather than five years.