The English Bride

by Joan Wolf

  As he turned toward her, the light from the bedside candle reflected off his naked flesh and concentrated face and for a moment he saw fear flash in her eyes. "It's all right, Charity," he said, trying to speak quietly, soothingly, trying to keep his mounting passion from coarsening his voice. "Trust me. Everything is going to be all right." He stretched out beside her and began to kiss her and kiss and kiss her, trying to drug her with kisses so she would forget to be afraid and let him do what he had to do and not struggle against him.

  After a while he moved his kisses to her throat. Then he finished unbuttoning her nightdress and, laying bare her breasts, he closed his mouth on first one pink nipple and then the other. He felt her breath suck in hard and then her body arched up toward his, seeking him. He reached down and pushed up her nightdress, his hand running caressingly along her leg until it reached the place that would bring ecstasy to them both.

  Charity stiffened, and he kissed her some more and murmured to her and gently began to caress her soft, secret flesh, until her legs began to part voluntarily. When finally her hips began to lift toward his, he swung himself over her and, slowly and carefully, exerting such superhuman control that he was shaking with it, he slid into her.

  The feeling of her tightness closing around him almost sent him over the edge. Struggling for gentleness, he pushed and then set his teeth and pushed harder, until he heard her cry out and he felt himself pierce through the barrier of her virginity.

  "It's all right," he panted. "It's all right, Charity."

  Sweat was pouring off him and he shut his eyes.

  "Put your legs around my waist," he said.

  She did, and that was what finished him.

  When at last he came back to earth, his heart was hammering so hard he thought his ribs might break, and he was clutching Charity so tightly he thought he might break her too. He groaned, rolled off her, sat up, and looked apprehensively into her face. There were tears on her cheeks.

  "Charity!" He was horrified. "Did I hurt you that much?"

  She said in a small voice, "It wasn't that bad." Her still-damp cheeks gleamed in the candlelight and her long lashes were stuck together from her tears. Looking at her, he felt as if his heart would break. In the same small voice as before, she said, "Would you mind just holding me for a while?"

  "Of course I'll hold you." He lay back next to her and gathered her carefully into his arms, resting his cheek against her hair. "I am so sorry it was painful, my dear. I understand that the first time is always hard for a woman. It will get better, I promise you. It won't hurt like that again."

  She nestled closer. "The first part was very nice."

  He kissed her temple. "I'm glad about that."

  She felt so small, so slight as she cuddled against him. He thought with some degree of awe of the courage it must have taken for her to trust herself to him, who was so much larger and stronger than she. And she was a virgin. He was the first man she had ever known.

  At that thought, feelings he had never felt for a woman before, feelings of protection and possessiveness blazed in his heart. As he felt her stir in his arms, he vowed that the next time, he would show her the joy that a woman could find in a man's embrace. He would call upon all the skill he had learned from sophisticated women of the world to bring joy and rapture to his young wife.

  Charity said, "I like to be close to you like this. Are you going to go back to your own bed?"

  "Do you want me to?"

  "No. I want you to stay here with me."

  He smiled. "Then that's what I will do."

  Augustus proved true to his promise to himself, and in the following weeks his sexual awakening of Charity proved so successful that her whole idea of herself, of who and what she was, changed profoundly. For the first time in her life she became conscious of herself as a sexual being. She walked differently, held her head differently; she even had a different expression on her face.

  She had loved Augustus before, but in some ways it had been the love of a young girl for a man whom she placed upon a pedestal. Now that she was sleeping with him, now that she knew what it was like to feel him inside her, the quality of her love had deepened and become the love of a fully awakened woman.

  Sex is a powerful narcotic, and for the halcyon period of time that was her true honeymoon, Charity's satisfied body blotted out any doubts that Augustus' feelings for her might not be as strong as hers for him. Both her grandmother and his mother had emphasized his need for an heir. For the moment this practical consideration was buried. But it was not forgotten. Like the snake lurking in the garden of paradise, it awaited only the strategic moment to strike at Charity's heart.

  Late one evening in early December, Charity returned unexpectedly from a trip to Seista and the Prince came into her dressing room while her maid was helping her undress. He sat on the side of the chaise longue and watched in silence as Charity tied her velvet dressing gown and told Anna she could go to bed. Once the maid had left, he said, "I didn't think you were coming back tonight."

  She sat in a small upholstered chair. "I finished sooner than I thought I would and I decided to come home instead of waiting until tomorrow."

  He smiled, but made no attempt to approach her. "A wise decision."

  She scanned his face. "Has something happened, Augustus?"

  He gave her a quizzical look. "Am I as transparent as all that?"

  "Of course not," she replied soothingly. "I just thought you looked a little worried."

  He sighed. "Yes, well, something has happened today while you were gone. The emperor has appointed Franz to be his ambassador to Jura."

  Charity stared at him in amazement. "Franz? He can't have appointed Franz, Augustus. That would be the most dreadful insult to you."

  He ran his fingers through his hair. "Well, he has appointed Franz. I received official notification from the Imperial Court today."

  "Franz isn't even an Austrian!" Charity said indignantly. "How can he be the Austrian ambassador if he isn't an Austrian citizen?"

  "His mother is Austrian.”

  “Yes, but his father is a Jurian duke!”

  Augustus shrugged.

  "You must protest this appointment to the emperor, Augustus. Good God, if Franz comes to Julia, he will probably bring Lydia with him. Can you imagine the gossip that will cause?"

  Augustus said soberly, "There will be more gossip if I protest this appointment than if I accept it as if it were a matter of no consequence. Obviously, I am not pleased with the emperor's choice, but Franz will be as anxious to avoid scandal as we are. I will welcome him to Jura, accept his ambassadorial credentials, and you will welcome Lydia. We will behave in exactly the same way we would if Count Esterhazy had been appointed the Austrian ambassador. It is the only dignified way to handle this matter."

  There was a long silence. Finally Charity sighed. "I suppose you're right."

  "There's no 'suppose' about it. I am right."

  She stuck out her lower lip. "The difference between us is that you've forgiven Franz and I haven't."

  He stretched his arms over his head. "I have more than forgiven Franz. I am grateful to him." He stood up, crossed to her chair, and sat on his heels in front of her. "Just think, I might have been stuck for life with Lydia."

  He cupped his hands around her face and kissed her. She rested her own hands on his shoulders, closed her eyes, and kissed him back. After a few moments, he moved her hands behind his neck and began to rise, until he was standing fully upright and her feet were swinging off the ground. Holding her there, close to his chest, he looked into her eyes and said, "I'm glad you decided to come home."

  Her eyes sparkled mischievously. "My escort was very put out."

  "The hell with your escort."

  "That's what I thought."

  He began to walk toward the door that led into her bedroom, carrying her as if she weighed nothing. Charity felt her body moving along with his and her insides began to melt. The first time she had know
n this kind of desire, she had been frightened by the intensity of her own feelings. But she was no longer the girl who had first lain with Augustus all those weeks ago. All of her fear and shyness had been burned away by the blaze of passion that had ignited between them. Now when Augustus pulled off her robe and looked at her naked body, she reveled in the expression she saw in his eyes. He thought she was beautiful, and so she felt beautiful. She loved to look at him as well, to see his body, lean-muscled and golden in the light of the lamp that they always left on.

  Most of all, she loved to yield to him. To feel him filling her emptiness, his hardness softening her, opening her, until she was overwhelmed by such a flood of sensation that she actually cried out, so intense was the pleasure.

  The only thing missing was the words. I love you, Charity. I love you, Augustus. They were never said, but as soon as that thought surfaced, Charity pushed it away. She told herself that she didn't need words when she had this.

  They slept together in Charity's bed and made love again in the morning before they went off to attend to their separate duties.

  The days before Franz arrived in Jura went by with clocklike regularity. In almost every area of her life, Charity was having success. Her lessons with Louis were going better than ever; her plans to create an organized social assistance system for Jura's poor were beginning to coalesce; and, to her delight, she even had her beloved dog returned to her when Harry arrived unexpectedly one day with Hero in tow.

  Charity was in the stable yard having finished her lesson when the huge brown Newfoundland came galloping down the path and threw himself at her, barking hysterically.

  "Hero!" she cried with almost identical rapture. "How did you get here?"

  She tried to hug the dog, or even to pat him, but he was so excited that he couldn't stand still. He raced around her and then jumped on her, almost knocking her to the ground.

  Two grooms came running to her assistance, but she waved them away. "It's my dog," she said. "I can't believe it! Oh, Hero, I missed you so much."

  At last Hero was able to stand quietly enough for her to scratch behind his ears in his favorite spot. She was sitting on her heels next to the dog when she looked up and saw her brother coming into the courtyard.

  "Harry!" she shrieked, jumping up and running to him. Hero barked excitedly and followed, frisking around Harry too.

  He hugged her hard. "It's great to see you, Char." He held her away so he could look at her. "I see you're still wearing breeches."

  She was indeed wearing breeches, but her double-breasted green velvet coat flared out at her waist into a full skirt that reached to her knees, leaving visible only her polished black high boots. Her hair hung in a single braid from beneath her green-and-gold tricorn hat.

  She laughed. "But what are you doing here?"

  He shrugged. "Papa said he had promised you he would send Hero to Jura, and I volunteered to be the one to bring him."

  Charity looked up into her brother's wide green eyes and knew instantly that there was more behind his visit than merely transporting Hero. She decided diplomatically that she would not ask just yet. "I am so glad to see you, Harry. Come back to the palace with me and we'll see if Augustus is free."

  "I have a letter to the Prince from Papa," Harry said. "He wanted me to deliver it personally."

  Charity, her brother and her dog went up to the Pfalz, only to discover that Augustus had gone into Julia. Charity took Harry to her sitting room for a chat and sent for refreshments. Hero curled up next to her feet, so close that his fur spilled over onto her boots.

  They chatted about his journey until a servant had delivered a tray with biscuits and coffee. When they were alone again, Charity asked, "Do you know what Papa's letter is about?"

  "Well . . . I think part of it has to do with me." Harry was regarding his boot tips with great interest.

  "Oh?" Charity said mildly.

  Harry lifted his eyes from his boots. "The truth is, I got into a bit of trouble, Char, and Papa went into a rage. He said that I could spend the next six months in the country or I could keep you company in Jura." He gave her an engaging smile. "I decided it would be more fun here with you."

  Charity handed him a cup of steaming liquid. "What kind of trouble?"

  Harry's expression became so lugubrious it was almost comical. "You won't believe this, Char, but I let myself be taken in by a hardened gamester. Can you believe it? I never thought I could be such a gull."

  Charity, who did not find Harry's gullibility as astonishing as he appeared to, made noises of sympathy.

  He took a sip from his cup and looked at her in surprise. "Since when did you start to drink coffee in the afternoon?"

  "Augustus converted me. He drinks it all the time."

  "Oh." Harry took another sip and continued with his tale. "I thought Layton was a first-rate cove. He was an army officer, Char! He fought at Waterloo!"

  Charity widened her eyes in a semblance of horrified disbelief. "Did he cheat you, Harry?"

  Harry was evidently soothed by her response, for his gloom lifted slightly. He nodded. "He took me to this gambling hell and I lost a huge amount of money. He kept telling me that the luck was bound to change . . . Well, you know how it is, Char. It didn't."

  She nodded wisely. "Was Layton in partnership with the gambling hell?"

  He stared. "How did you know that?"

  "He wouldn't have bothered to set you up if he wasn't going to get a cut, Harry," she said practically.

  He was looking gloomy again. "Papa was enraged. You know how he is about gambling—I doubt if he's lost a hundred guineas in his entire life."

  Charity, who had heard her father lecture her mother many times about the evils of gambling, did know. "It is not a vice for which Papa has any sympathy."

  "He came down on me like a ton of bricks. Said I would have to go into the country, but then he changed his mind and said I could take Hero to Jura and deliver a letter to the Prince at the same time."

  At this point, as if responding to his name, Hero arose from his supine position to sit in front of Charity, his eyes fixed on her face, his tail wagging, his whole posture a mixture of adoration and hopefulness.

  "By any chance, do you want to be petted?" she asked him.

  His tail wagged faster.

  She laughed and began to scratch his chest. Hero's eyes glazed over in bliss. Over the dog's enormous head she said to Harry, "Lydia will be here in a few days as well. We shall be quite a family party."

  Harry, who had been drinking his coffee, looked thunderstruck. "Lydia? Are you serious? How can she have the nerve to come to Jura after what she did to Augustus?"

  "Franz has been appointed ambassador to Jura from Austria," Charity said. "Of course Lydia will come with him."

  Harry almost choked on his coffee. "Good God. The emperor appointed Franz?"

  "He did it to insult Augustus, of course," Charity replied. "But Augustus is perfectly willing to be friends with Franz, and now that you are here we can make it seem as if we are having a happy family reunion. The emperor won't like that at all."

  She stopped scratching Hero's chest, sat back in her chair, and met her brother's disbelieving stare. "Augustus is willing to be friends with Franz?" he repeated. "I should think he would want his head on a plate."

  Charity said demurely, "You see, Augustus thinks Franz actually did him a favor by saving him from Lydia. He is not angry with Franz at all."

  Harry looked at his sister's face, and for the first time appeared to register the change in her. "You look different, Char," he said. "More . . . grown up."

  Her lashes dipped in acknowledgment. Harry was still staring at her in wonder when the Prince walked in the door.

  20

  "Augustus!" Charity said. "I thought you had gone into Julia."

  "I just got back." The Prince looked at Harry, who had leaped to his feet and was beginning to bow. Augustus held out his hand and crossed the room to greet him. "How are you, H
arry? This is a pleasant surprise."

  "Thank you, Your Highness," Harry said.

  The Prince gave him a friendly smile. "I believe we can drop the titles now that we are brothers, Harry. Call me Gus."

  Harry felt immensely flattered and glanced at his sister to see her reaction. She was looking at her husband, and the expression on her face made Harry blink.

  Augustus turned to his wife. "I see you have been reunited with your faithful friend." He snapped his fingers and Hero came over to greet him. With a tone of sobriety that contrasted with the warm radiance of her face, Charity said, "Harry has a letter for you from Papa, Augustus."

  The Prince straightened up. "So you are more than just the dog-deliverer, Harry."

  "Yes," Harry said. "The letter is in my bag. Shall I go and get it?"

  "If you wouldn't mind," Augustus said quietly.

  Harry moved as fast as he could without running and was back in Charity's sitting room in less than five minutes. The Prince had joined his wife on the sofa and they were speaking together in low voices when he returned.

  Augustus held out his hand for the letter and then waved Harry to his original seat. Silence fell. Charity leaned toward the coffee table in front of the sofa and poured herself a cup while he read. The letter covered several pages and Augustus took his time.

  Harry, who knew that some of the letter was devoted to his own sins, shifted uncomfortably on his seat. Charity put the coffee cup she had just filled on the table and didn't drink a drop of it.

  At last Augustus looked up. "Apparently your father is unhappy with your behavior, Harry," he said mildly.

  Harry suddenly realized that he very badly did not want to look like a fool in front of Augustus. As he flushed, he thought that he should have gone into the country and let someone else deliver Hero. "I was a gullible idiot," he said bitterly. "Papa had a right to be angry."