His eyes caught in her hair. “They found flowers.”
She touched her crown. He was talking about the maids. “I didn’t tell them to.” Her bird pin was also in her hair. Did he not like it?
“I told them to.” He touched the bird. She felt it shake before it settled again. “I like flowers on you.” He liked her in color. He’d brought her a dress from her closet that she knew she hadn’t packed. It was a brilliant yellow with a red ribbons and ruffles.
He put his hand down as he stared at her. “I wasn’t sure about the pin, but it feels right.”
Irene thought so as well. In a way, it had brought them together. “What’s wrong?” she asked as took his arm.
“My family is here.” The words made his expression even more troubled.
“You mean Lord Edmund?” she asked.
“Not him. My sisters. Their children.”
“You saw them?”
“I hear their voices.” His profile looked haunted. “I heard my sister Claritia call for Otto, reprimanding him for something. He’s my eldest nephew. I’m certain my mother put them up to it, forced them to come.”
Did they not like Clive? That bothered her considerably. “Why would they need to be forced?”
“My stepfather told them terrible things about me while growing up,” he said. “They learned to fear me. I was their naughty older brother. The wayward son. Stealing your hairpin only made it worse.”
She hated the anger and hurt she saw on his face. She hated it even more that he would feel either on their wedding day. It angered and hurt her as well. “Well, we’ll just have to get them to see how wonderful you are.”
He’d been staring ahead at the empty foyer as he spoke, but upon those words, he turned to her. “You can’t make them like me, Irene.”
“Then we make them leave.”
“We can’t. My mother invited them.”
She pressed her lips together and then sighed. “Very well. Then we will have to try and get them to like you or at least respect you. If they cannot do that, then I’m afraid I’ll never like the lot of them.”
He stared at her. “Perhaps, they’ll be nice to you. You are innocent.”
“If they do not like you then I do not like them,” she said. “That goes for everyone. The only exception to that rule died.”
He squeezed the hand she had on his arm and then then took her down the stairs.
∫ ∫ ∫
2 6
* * *
He’d been wrong about his family. Minutes after Irene and Clive had spoken their vows and bound themselves to one another until the end of time, Irene finally managed to pull her eyes away from the man she adored more and look at the people who surrounded them.
Irene didn’t see contempt.
She didn’t see anger or annoyance at attending the ceremony. Instead, she saw wariness but genuine happiness, especially from the women. Did they fear Clive?
His family was beautiful. He had six younger sisters and a younger brother. They were all married. Their spouses were of the working class. A doctor, a teacher. His brother, Dombert, whom all called Dom was in the clergy. It was he who’d married them.
His siblings’ children numbered fifteen altogether. Irene’s question of just how long it had been since Clive had seen his siblings was answered when the children were introduced.
They didn’t know Clive. Not even the oldest, Otto, who was ten.
Lady Angelini wept during the entire ceremony but smiled brightly during the introductions that followed. Irene imagined the woman was glad to have all her children together in the same room. How strange that he didn’t know his family, especially since Irene knew him to be close to his friends and their families.
Cecilia and Harry had come along with their daughters Rachel, Winifred, and little Mary. Irene was more than thrilled to see a face she knew.
The girls hugged her. Lord Harry stayed back to speak with a gentleman from Clive’s family.
Winnifred grinned up at Irene. “Did Mama tell you?”
Irene looked at Cecilia.
Her friend blushed. “I didn’t want to say anything, since this is your wedding day,” Cecilia began. “But a certain young gentleman has already taken a liking to Winifred.” She grinned. “Aside from her beauty, it is her elegance I think he admires most. That is thanks to you.”
“I did everything exactly as you said,” Winifred said. “I’m going to be a viscountess. I’ll be married to a titled gentleman, just like you. Thank you for everything.”
Irene smiled. Then she gave Cecilia a hug and whispered, “Don’t you believe Winnie a little young for marriage?” In truth, had she’d had the opportunity to marry Clive at fifteen, she would have.
Cecilia was blushing when she pulled away. “Well, it’s a wonderful opportunity. He will inherit, after all. We’ll speak later. For now, congratulations.” Like a fine shepherdess, she steered her children away.
Clive’s friends were there as well. Irene was happy to see Lucy and the other wives. She was surprised when Kent approached.
“Congratulations, Lady Fawley,” Kent said. His green eyes were warm.
She couldn’t help but return the giant’s smile. “Thank you.”
“I know we’ve not gotten on well in the past,” Kent said. “But since Clive is like a brother to me, I hope we manage to get along as well.”
“I will do anything to make Clive happy,” she said.
Kent’s smile grew. “Of that, I never had a doubt.” With that cryptic message, he bent over her hand and walked away.
“This isn’t as dreadful as I thought it would be.” Clive’s breath tickled her nape. He moved to stand at her side. Then their eyes caught. His filled with shame. “Forgive me.” He took her hand. “I’m not speaking about marrying you. I mean…”
“I know what you mean. You mean meeting your family.” They were alone in the corner of the drawing room, but those who gathered watched them.
He nodded and looked over at them. “They fear me.”
“Do you think your stepfather said something?”
“I know he did.”
She looked at him. “I believe that character is the best defense. Your actions will mean more than anyone’s words.”
“But I’ve stolen in the past,” he said. “I stole from you.”
She fully understood his regret at stealing her hairpin now. His sisters looked at him with near longing and still there was a touch of trepidation. “But who are you now? That is what matters. That is what we shall make the world see.” And even if no one else ever saw how wonderful her husband was, she would know. “We’ll spend time with your family and—”
“No, we won’t.” He squeezed her hand as he held her eyes.
“What do you mean?”
“All I have is today with them,” he said. “They made that clear. They only came for the ceremony. This is all I shall have.”
“Why?” Hurt struck Irene’s chest.
Clive smiled sadly. “They came. I am happy. It is all that matters.”
Irene clinched her hand around his arm. She didn’t believe him. She was sure a part of him was happy, but he wanted more from his family. She didn’t understand, but she said the first thing that came to mind. “We’ll make our own family. Our house will be full of love. You’ll need for no one else.”
His smile grew. “You are… the most peculiar person I know.”
“Did you just call me odd?” she asked.
“Yes, you’re odd and most definitely someone I will never be worthy of.” He kissed her hand.
Her heart expanded.
Irene was polite when she and Clive saw his family away. The breakfast would be held at Marley’s. Lady Angelini would not be attending.
“I’m so glad I got to witness this,” she said as she kissed Clive cheek. She took Irene’s hand. Bending to her ear, she whispered, “I’ve never known anyone with so much faith. Thank you for not giving up on my son.” Then sh
e pulled away. “I look forward to getting to know you better.” To Clive, she said, “Do bring her for tea every so often.”
“I will.”
Irene looked forward to getting to know Lady Angelini better as well but couldn’t help but fear the woman was spiriting them from the house and couldn’t get rid of them soon enough. She’d witnessed a footman delivering her a missive earlier and wondered if that had anything to do with her nervousness at the end.
When their carriage pulled away, Clive looked back, as did Irene.
Another carriage arrived, but they were around the corner before they saw anyone get out.
Clive settled back in his seat. He was holding her hand and squeezing the life out of it.
Irene’s fingers turned red, but she said nothing to stop him. “I like your mother.”
He nodded absently.
“She invited me to tea, though I suspect she doesn’t mean for us to meet at her home.”
“She doesn’t.” He glanced at her. “We meet at Twinings once a month.”
“But you want more.”
“I don’t concentrate on matters that can’t be fixed.”
But couldn’t it?
Irene wanted to find a way and she would. She had so much to do. Her father’s business. Finding Mr. Crow. Finding the book. Learning the identity of her assailant.
“Will your cousin care that he missed the ceremony?” Clive asked. “I didn’t think to invite anyone close to you except for Cecilia.”
“I was so glad to see Cecilia.” She smiled. “Before my father’s death, I hadn’t seen Cass in years. He’d only became my father’s heir two months before his death and they hadn’t been close. My father was only ever close to me and Gregory. Cass offered to help me after the funeral, but I told him I wanted to be alone and so he left.”
“Just like that?”
“Cass is different,” she said. “He doesn’t do things like most people. He isn’t good with emotions either.”
“Most men aren’t. That’s no excuse.”
“Did you know Cecilia is my cousin as well?” She was speaking so they that could get their minds on something else.
“Is she?” Clive’s brow rose with interest.
“Through Harry,” she said. “Harry is my father’s cousin’s son, which makes him my second cousin, but again, we weren’t close. I believe he and Cass were close growing up. Cecilia likely knows Cass better than I do.”
Clive sighed. “There are many blood connections amongst the ton.” His expression closed once more.
“Would you like to earn another painting?”
He smiled and then chuckled. “I believe I’ve earned all the paintings.” His eyes were the blue of intense flames as he turned to her. “Marriage has made them mine.”
She placed her hand on his thigh. “Then perhaps, I will have to find something else to bargain with.”
“You have nothing.” He leaned close and caught her chin between his fingers. “Everything you have, everything you are is mine.” His eyes stroked her face.
Her breath caught.
No one had ever looked at her that way before.
She didn’t feel like art. She felt like the most desired woman in the world.
“You’re right,” she whispered. “I am completely yours. Forever.”
His lips crashed to hers. His tongue pried her mouth open and rolled with hers.
They was panting and moaning in seconds.
His hand slid up her hip. “I want to…”
“Yes,” she breathed into his mouth.
His other hand gripped her hair. “I want...”
She needed to be closer.
She crawled onto his lap. “Whatever you want.” She kissed him. “Whenever you want.” Another kiss. Her hands went around his shoulders. “You will never be denied any part of me.”
He used her hair to pull her face back gently.
His expression chilled her blood before heat was renewed by the intense fire in his eyes. He looked menacing and hungry in a way that made her feel she’d be nothing but a carcass when he was done with her.
“No one has ever given me that,” he said. It was a fact. A warning.
She shivered. “I’m giving it to you.”
“Why me?” He frowned as though he didn’t trust her. Then he pulled her face close. “Why me?”
She cupped his cheeks. “Because the more I learned of you, the more I knew you were meant for me and that I would stop at nothing to have you.” Her friends had called her mad and they’d likely been right. Her father had tried to change her mind, but her heart had been set. Clive had been a challenge, but Irene had always been stubborn.
He closed his eyes. His mouth tensed. Then he looked them and looked at her. The savageness in his expression gave her pause. He saw it and gripped her tighter. “Too late. You chose me. These are the consequences.” He tapped the carriage and it slowly came to a stop. Then he instructed the driver to take them home.
Irene’s eyes widened. “But our wedding breakfast.”
“Consequences,” he reminded her before he kissed her hard enough to knock all senses from her mind.
∫ ∫ ∫
2 7
* * *
“Clive.” Olivia’s voice startled him two nights later.
He turned to her and found her standing close, her expression anxious. He took a step back to take her in. He rarely saw her, now she seemed to be everywhere, though that was not entirely true. This was only the second time he’d spoken to her in six years. “Lady Olivia.”
“You let her convince you to marry her?” she asked in surprise.
He understood her shock. When last they spoke, she’d mentioned Irene’s feelings. He hadn’t sounded happy about them. Yet now Irene was his wife.
“She didn’t have to convince me. I decided to wed her based on my own conscience.” Not that it was any of Olivia’s concern. Clive glanced around them. The music in the ballroom and the voices of those around them were loud enough to cover their conversation.
“It’s guilt, isn’t it?” Olivia sighed, resigned. Lifting her fan that was the same crystal ice blue of her dress, she fluttered it furiously before turning toward dancers where Irene was currently enjoying herself on Garrick’s arm.
He smiled at his wife. “It wasn’t guilt.”
“If not guilt, then what? Pity? Those are the only options, poor dear. Let us hope your children look like you.”
He stiffened and looked down at Olivia. Olivia had always enjoyed speaking ill of others. Years ago, Clive would have joined her, laughed, done anything to feel connected to her, to make her want him just as much as he wanted her. He’d have done anything to make her his.
Now, he was disappointed in his former self, but glad his life hadn’t worked out the way it should have. Olivia wouldn’t have been good for him. Either that, or Clive would have eventually regretted marrying her. He allowed his anger to cool before he spoke. “I wouldn’t mind a daughter who looked just like her.”
Olivia laughed and looked at him. She thought him teasing. Those cool green eyes glittered as they always did when she thought he was joining in on her fun. “Truly?”
“I’m serious. My wife is beautiful, but I hope my children gather more than her looks. She has a kind soul.” It was that soul he needed. Every time she looked at him, he felt wrapped in her. If Clive didn’t find that love’s emotion was a complex burden and if he did work to avoid it at all cost, he might one day fall for her.
“She’s quite strong willed,” Olivia said with narrowed eyes.
“Thank God for that,” he countered. Where would he be if Irene had given up on him? He knew where he was now. With her. He didn’t think there a better place for him.
“Saint Irene they are calling her,” Olivia grunted. “She gave that mansion to the poor and then saved all those children at the shipyard.”
Clive had read the papers and he’d heard the whispers. A few gentlemen had even dared
to tell Clive that he’d married well, if only because Irene could restore his soul. He hadn’t been offended in the least. The truth was the truth.
He was about to excuse himself when Irene walked over. He hadn’t even noticed the music had changed until her arrival. Garrick had escorted her.
“You’re a wonderful dancer,” Irene told his friend. “We must do it again.”
Garrick nodded and signed.
Clive translated for him. “He said he’d enjoy it.”
Garrick bowed before he left.
Irene turned to Olivia, and Clive’s gut tightened. The past few days had been good. Having a wife was better than he’d ever dreamed, having Irene even more so. It would only take a single word from Olivia to ruin everything.
“Lady Olivia,” Irene said as she took Clive’s arm. “How are you?” The two had been acquainted since before Clive had met either of them.
“Well, Lady Fawley.” Olivia curtsied and her smile and enthusiasm almost looked genuine as she rose. But Clive remembered that Olivia always had two sides. She could be sweet to the point that his mouth would cringe. “I must congratulate you on your marriage. You’re a marchioness now. I’m sure your father would be proud of the nuptials.”
The words weren’t any different than what most had said to Irene. The world thought them evenly matched in money and power. Most people thought money to be the reason Clive had married Irene. That wasn’t the case, but neither was love.
Irene leaned into him as much as Society would allow a couple to stand. The move was possessive. Clive wondered what was going on. “Thank you, my lady. I am very happy. How is Mr. English?”
“He is well.” Olivia began to fan herself more urgently. Her gaze moved to where he and Irene’s arms were joined and then toward each of their faces before she said, “I should go find him. He promised me the next set.”
She left a moment later.
Clive turned to Irene to see her watching him closely. “What?”
“You almost married her, did you not?”
He was shocked and then wondered why. Irene rarely held her tongue about anything. “I don’t know if one could claim we were engaged. We weren’t, but yes, I was interested in her hand years ago.”
Pain of The Marquess: (The Valiant Love Regency Romance) (A Historical Romance Book) Page 13