“Bella would like that.” She laughed. “And it will give me time to change her mind about her dress. That one would be far too old for her.”
He called for his curricle, and with her hand in his, they walked to the front door. His plans for the honeymoon he kept even from Carrie. He had booked passage for them to sail on the tide the day after their wedding, held on Sunday morning at St. James’s Church on Piccadilly.
Dominic was in London. Nicholas planned to seek him out at his club. He grinned, looking forward to it. Dom would be surprised to hear his news. Would he feel threatened? Another of his friends had succumbed to the parson’s mousetrap.
***
The two days following Nicholas and Jeremy’s departure, Carrie was still busy with the wedding arrangements. She persuaded Bella to accept a dress more suitable for a young flower girl and had a fitting for her wedding dress. She wrote a personal wedding invitation to Lady Penelope, adding how much they would like her there. Would she accept? Lady Penelope had mentioned that she did not go about as much as she used to, but she did seem to enjoy her stay at Elm Park.
As the wedding breakfast was to be at Gwen and Winston’s home, Gwen had taken over the arrangements.
When the third day dawned with no word from Nicholas, Carrie set out with Anna after breakfast to walk to his house, which was several streets away.
On arrival, a footman told her his lordship had not yet returned.
“They might have spent more time at the ruins than expected,” Anna said helpfully as they walked back.
“I shouldn’t worry,” Carrie said. “They’ll be here soon, I’m sure.”
Carrie angled her parasol over her head to block the bright sunlight.
A coach pulled up beside them, and the door opened.
“May I offer you a ride, young ladies?” Nicholas asked, jumping down.
Her heart beat fast at the sight of him, home, safe. She twirled her parasol. “I assume you offer this service to all young ladies?”
“Only the pretty ones.”
Anna giggled.
Once seated in the coach, Carrie heard Jeremy’s enthusiastic description of the Roman villa, its two bathhouses, and mosaics and artifacts. Pleased that her brother had enjoyed himself, she nodded and met Nicholas’s eyes, warm with promise.
When they entered the house, having learned where Bella was to be found, Jeremy ran upstairs.
“This came for you, Miss Leeming.” The butler handed Carrie a letter.
Carrie tore it open and perused it. “It’s from Lady Penelope. She must have sent it by return post. Although not at all surprised, she is most pleased. She was leaving directly and wishes me to please advise Nicholas to have a bedchamber prepared for her at Pennington Court.” Carrie giggled. “She prefers a northerly or westerly aspect, as she despises the morning sun.”
Nicholas laughed as they walked into the parlor. “Tell me what you have been up to while I’ve been away.”
Seated together on the sofa, she gave him a shortened version, making him laugh at her struggle with Bella’s gown. “What about our honeymoon, Nicholas? You haven’t said where we are going.”
He leaned over and kissed her, gazing deep into her eyes. “It’s a surprise.”
“I love surprises,” Gwen said from the doorway. “Good to see you back safely, Nicholas. Carrie has been extremely busy, seeing to the wedding gowns, the invitations, and consulting the rector about the church decorations. I’ve arranged the breakfast menu with my chef and hired the musicians. You will find everything has been miraculously completed in your absence. That trip of yours was remarkably well-timed, I must say.”
Nicholas chuckled. “I’ve always prided myself on my sense of timing.” He removed a piece of paper from his coat pocket and handed it to Carrie.
“The special license. How wonderful.” Carrie lifted her gaze to his.
Nicholas turned to his sister. “All jokes aside, you have been a tremendous help to us, Gwen, in all of this.”
“We are so grateful,” Carrie added warmly.
“I think this occasion calls for a glass of wine, don’t you?” Gwen said. “I’ll ask Winston to send for some of the French champagne he has secreted away in the cellar for a special occasion. That is, if he and his friends haven’t already finished it.”
“I heard that,” Winston said, coming into the room. “Rest assured, the champagne is on its way. Good to see you back, Nicholas.” He sat and crossed his legs. “How did you find the ruins?”
As the men talked, Gwen leaned closer to Carrie. “Do they remind you of Jeremy? Men are really little boys at heart.”
“I heard that, too,” Winston quipped. He turned back to Nicholas. “Two bathhouses, you say? Romans were remarkably clean in their habits, weren’t they?”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The day of the wedding, a few white clouds scudded across a pale blue sky after an early morning shower. Nicholas called to see the Rector of St. James’s church again. They talked together, while bunches of white roses were carried inside and arranged in vases on the altar, with others attached by ribbons to the ends of the pews.
Later, he drove Lady Penelope and Jeremy to Piccadilly. He discovered he was nervous. He’d never suffered such an affliction before, even when speaking passionately about some cause in the House. The coach deposited them outside the church, where he assisted Lady Penelope over the pavement. The small building of red brick and Portland stone was plain, but inside, the lofty interior created by a barrel vault and Corinthian columns made it appear much grander. It could house two thousand people, he’d been told, but given such short notice, their guests wouldn’t come close to filling it.
The usher seated Lady Penelope in the front row with Jeremy, while Nicholas took his place standing beside Charles, who wore gray, and next to him, Dominic in blue.
Morning sunlight imbued the stained-glass windows behind the altar with vibrant color. Nicholas kneeled in prayer. He added a special prayer for Max, assuring him that Carrie would never want for anything as long as he lived.
When he rose, he thanked his good friends for being here on the most important day of his life. Charles gave a reassuring pat on his shoulder, and Dominic grinned. Like him, they both wore white carnations in their buttonholes. Nicholas eyed his, hoping the flower wouldn’t wilt. He smoothed the sleeves of his dark blue coat and fiddled with his neckcloth.
The rector came to have a few brief words with them while the guests filed inside. After he left them, Nicholas turned to survey the guests. He acknowledged, with a nod, the dignitaries and friends who shared a pew with Lord Liverpool, the prime minister. The Regent was not in attendance but had sent his congratulations along with a case of champagne from Brighton.
Jeremy waved Lady Penelope’s painted fan before her face. Concerned, Nicholas stepped over to inquire if the lady was ailing.
“Don’t fuss, Nicholas. The boy is doing splendidly,” she said in her inimitable fashion. “It is quite warm in the church.”
Chastened, Nicholas returned to his position. When he’d first met Jeremy, he mused, he’d thought him a subdued boy, and it heartened him to see this bright-eyed lad now so very different.
Nellie, dressed in pale green, offered him a warm smile as she sat beside Lady Penelope.
The soft murmur of conversation fell away as the organ music swelled, filling the church. Nicholas turned as Carrie entered, a vision in white satin, with a bouquet of pink roses, her concession to his foolish request for her to wear the color pink, perhaps. She advanced slowly down the aisle, her hand resting on Winston’s arm.
Nicholas swallowed the lump in his throat. A small white veil, sheer as gossamer, covered her hair. She wore pearls at her throat and ears. How lovely she was and how blessed was he. Although her beauty needed no adornment, she would wear the Pennington diamonds to the first ball they attended when they returned to London.
As the orchestra’s notes soared above the assembled guests, Carrie
approached the altar. Behind her, Gwen, in rose-pink and then Bella in a paler hue, blushing and smiling as she measured her steps, a bouquet of white roses trembling in her hands.
Exquisite in her white gown, silver ribbons and lace, Carrie reached him, and with a misty smile, she stood beside him.
Winston bowed, stepped away, and joined Gwen in the front pew.
The rector cleared his throat and began.
The church grew hushed as the ceremony proceeded.
Once Nicholas slipped the ring on Carrie’s finger, their guests, as if they’d been holding their collective breaths, erupted with cheers.
After signing the registry with Charles and Nellie as their witnesses, Nicholas and Carrie emerged outside into the morning light. Traffic slowed while pedestrians gathered to form a crowd. Carrie tossed her bouquet to a woman in the crowd clustered around the church entrance. She caught it with a squeal of delight.
Nicholas laughed and took Carrie’s hand in his, and they climbed into the landau decorated with ribbons.
“Our life together begins with a kiss, sweetheart.” He framed her face with his hands and bent his head to hers. Boisterous merriment rippled through the crowd.
Their carriage lurched forward.
Nicholas placed an arm around her shoulders. “I want to have you to myself so very much.”
She placed her glove hand against his cheek. “And I.” The desire in her eyes made him want to kiss her again, so he did so as the carriage took them to the wedding breakfast.
***
It was almost time for Carrie and Nicholas to leave. Carrie asked Bella to come to the bedchamber while she changed.
Careful of her dress, Bella sat in a chair, while Anna assisted Carrie out of her wedding gown. “You were very poised,” Carrie said. “Papa would have been proud of you.”
At the mention of him, Bella’s eyes grew teary. “Papa would be so pleased that you married Nicholas.”
“Because he liked and admired Nicholas?”
“Yes, but also because Nicholas will keep Jeremy and me safe.”
Carrie came and sat down beside her. “Safe?”
“A housemaid told us about the man who killed Alex. She said he tried to kill us all.” Bella shivered. “Why would he do such an awful thing?”
Carrie frowned. “I don’t know why some people are so evil. But fortunately, most people are good. And they’ve gone to prison, and can’t hurt anyone, anymore, dearest.”
Bella jumped up. “I can’t wait to return to Elm Park with Scotty tomorrow and see my puppy. I’ve decided I must be patient, concentrate on my studies, become proficient in the French language, deportment, and dance, and wait for my Season.”
“Scotty will be pleased you feel that way.” Carrie smiled, hoping it would last. “Tell Jeremy I want to see him, will you, please?”
As Anna rearranged Carrie’s hair, Jeremy came in and stood beside her. He picked up an earring and twirled it.
Carrie took it from him. “Are you looking forward to school?”
“It will be good to see the fellows again, I suppose. I’ve missed playing cricket.”
She searched his face. He looked like a different boy these days. The haunted look in his eyes had gone, but it disturbed her he’d found out about the murder. “Nothing worries you?”
He shrugged. “What should worry me? Do you think Nicholas might take me to see another ruin during my next holiday?”
She smiled. “You’ll have to ask him.”
He shuffled his feet. “Is that all you wanted to say? I was about to have some cake, it’s got silver frosting.”
“Yes, that’s all. But you might kiss me goodbye.”
“Girls always want to kiss a fellow.” But he obligingly bent over her and kissed her cheek.
“I know. It will get worse, too,” Carrie said, trying not to laugh.
Jeremy widened his eyes. “Good grief.”
She stood. “Thank you, Anna.” With one more glance in the mirror, Carrie left and went to the stairs. There were many people she wanted to say goodbye to. Recently acquired friends and relatives who warmly welcomed the Leemings into the fold. She imagined her father smiling down at her with that quizzical, amused smile of his before he became ill.
She made her way down the stairs, planning to find Gwen and Winston and thank them for their perfectly wonderful wedding breakfast, then paused on a step to remember their wedding waltz. The way he looked at her as they danced made her draw breath. She was smiling when she reached the hall. Nicholas stood with a foot on the bottom step, smiling up at her.
“Was that smile for me?” he asked, putting an arm around her when she reached him.
“I shan’t tell you, you will become far too conceited.”
He spun her around with a wicked smile, his eyes filled with laughter. “Tell me, or I’ll pick you up and run off with you. It will cause gossip for years to come.”
She eyed him carefully. One never quite knew with Nicholas. She remembered him carrying her into the ballroom to the gasps of the guests. “You wouldn’t. Would you?”
“You think I wouldn’t? I’m growing impatient,” he said, and there was such desire in his eyes, she trembled.
Carrie placed her hands on his shoulders. “Of course I was thinking of you, darling. You fill my thoughts, my heart, and my soul.”
Nicholas enfolded her in his arms, his mouth finding hers in a passionate kiss.
“Well, you might wait until the honeymoon,” Gwen said from the doorway. “You’ll scandalize the guests.”
Nicholas smiled into Carrie’s eyes. “I doubt it. I think they’ve forgotten us.” He took Carrie’s hand, and they walked back into the ballroom, which was filled with lively laughter and music from the fiddlers, while couples danced a Scottish reel.
“Where are you two going for your honeymoon?” Dominic asked from the dance floor where he danced with a young lady.
“It’s a secret,” Nicholas replied, drawing Carrie onto the floor for one last dance.
“He won’t even tell me,” Carrie said. “Only that my maid must pack for a warmer climate.”
“That’s Nick for you.” Dominic laughed and shook his head.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Nicholas thought the marchioness’s cream and gold suite, with its light and elegant chairs and sofas, was an appropriate setting for his beautiful bride. “Leave us, Anna.”
When her maid bobbed and left the room, Carrie placed her hairbrush down carefully on her dressing table with a shy smile.
He had known once he’d committed himself to love, it would be forever. He had tried to ignore his feelings, tried to tell himself he would be better off alone, and all the while, Carrie slipped into his heart and became everything to him. And if he should ever lose her, he would lose himself. It was a startling thought.
Carrie’s hair was a like burnished gold cascading to her waist. Her deep brown eyes captured his, and something primal ignited between them, sending hot blood rushing through his veins.
Nicholas was familiar with the sexual fire between lovers, but nothing ever came close to this. His deep love for her and all they had shared over the previous months, which bound them together, became imbued with a hot, electrical charge and a fierce yearning to make her his.
He closed the short distance between them.
With a soft moan, he enfolded her slight body in his arms. In her lacy pink peignoir, her soft breasts, freed of the undergarments, pressed invitingly against his chest.
“Carrie.” His lips brushed against hers as he spoke, then he took her mouth in a forceful kiss, breathing in the feminine scents of her warm, perfumed skin.
When he broke away, she smiled demurely and reached up to trace across his smooth, freshly shaved chin with a finger. “Mmm. Your soap smells divine.”
Her attempt to appear calm didn’t fool him. He pressed a kiss to the rapid pulse in her throat. “So do you, darling.” His lips trailed across her soft cheek, and he se
ttled his mouth over hers, nibbling and teasing at her bottom lip.
When he plunged his tongue inside her mouth to lengthen the kiss, her fingers gripped his shoulders. “Nicholas.”
Nicholas picked her up in his arms and strode to the bed.
***
Carrie could feel the urgent thud of Nicholas’s heart as he carried her. She knew he loved her and wanted her, and she wanted to please him. She’d been confident she had learned all there was to lovemaking after Mary described it, but now she wasn’t so sure. The pain and the discomfort which apparently accompanied the act troubled her slightly, but she thrust it away, couldn’t think of it, or indeed, Mary, now.
He set her down on the floor beside the bed and undid the ribbons on her peignoir, slipping it off her shoulders. She stood unmoving, taking in every detail of this man she loved, as he gathered up the folds of her nightgown and pulled it over her head. The silk fell to the floor, a pale pink splash on the cream carpet. Her body tingled, and her nipples peaked against the cool air. She flushed and climbed onto the bed, her arms over her breasts. Her eyes fluttered shut.
When she opened them, Nicholas had divested himself of his dressing gown. How perfect his body was, broad shoulders tapering to narrow hips, his legs long and muscular. His skin looked smooth. A dusting of black hair covered the well-defined muscles of his chest, and a dark trail traveled down from his navel to… Goodness. Her thoughts fled.
Nicholas came to kneel on the bed beside her. “Don’t hide your beauty from me.”
Leaning over her, he stroked her hair back from her forehead and pressed a kiss there, then small kisses, feather-light on her nose, her cheek, and her throat. When he nuzzled the sensitive spot beneath her ear, Carrie trembled.
She caressed the strong tendons at the back of his neck and the silky hair at his nape.
His tongue toyed at the seam of her lips. When she opened, he slipped inside. Such an extraordinary sensation. Carrie tentatively touched his tongue with hers. It thrilled her to hear his appreciative moan.
Nicholas stroked over her sides to her hips and across her belly. He fondled her breasts and bent to suckle a nipple. “Like sweet strawberries,” he murmured. Her nipples tingled, his touch so arousing, her breath quickened as if she’d been running.
Never Dance with a Marquess (The Never Series Book 2) Page 23