The Marriage Contract

by Ruth Ann Nordin

  “I missed you,” Brad whispered.

  Stephen tried to say he had missed him, too, but he couldn’t because the tears wouldn’t stop. Everything was going to be all right. After all this time, everything was finally going to be all right between him and his brother.

  ***

  “I’m glad you came,” Stephen said an hour later when he and Brad were alone in the den.

  Patricia and Ava had decided to go for a walk with the children. They had done most of the talking in the drawing room, and most of the conversation had revolved around the children. Stephen hadn’t minded. He knew he had to talk to Brad at some point, but knowing his brother had forgiven him made the prospect of doing so much easier.

  Now that he and his brother were alone, it was time to say the things he needed to. He offered Brad a glass of brandy then sat across from him. “I was afraid you wouldn’t reply to my missive this time, so Patricia wrote it for me,” Stephen confessed.

  Brad’s eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean by ‘this time’?”

  “I had sent you missives before. You just never answered them.”

  “I never received any missives from you until yesterday. In fact, it’s the other way around. I sent you missives that you never answered.”

  “I didn’t get anything from you.”

  “I didn’t get anything from you, either.”

  Stephen frowned. “I don’t understand how that’s possible.”

  “I sent you a couple of missives shortly after you married Eloise. When I found out how bad your marriage was, I felt awful for what I’d done. I knew she was horrible, but I never imagined she’d stoop to the levels she did.”

  “I’m telling you the truth, Brad. I never received anything from you. If I had, I would have visited you. Being married to Eloise made me realize what kind of person I’d been, and I didn’t like it. For the first time, I saw the things I had said and done through your eyes. You have no idea how much guilt I’ve been carrying around. When I finally mustered up the courage to send you an apology, I didn’t receive a reply. The worst thing about it wasn’t that you didn’t reply. The worst thing about it was knowing I didn’t deserve a reply.” He blinked back more tears and lowered his gaze.

  “When did you send the missive?” Brad asked.

  “I sent the first one halfway into the first year of my marriage to Eloise,” Stephen said. “I sent the second one about two years after that.”

  “I didn’t get anything.” Brad set the glass down and leaned forward. “If I had received something, I would have responded to it.”

  “I would have done the same if I had received your missives.”

  Stephen paused as a thought occurred to him. Was it possible that Eloise had intercepted the missives and destroyed them? Eloise had been close to the butler Stephen had employed at the time. Stephen had fired the butler when he realized the butler had been one of her lovers. He might have had to tolerate other gentlemen sleeping with her, but he wasn’t about to tolerate it from one of his servants. And he hadn’t sent Brad anything after employing the new butler.

  “I know I haven’t given you a reason to trust me in the past,” Stephen began, “but I swear to you that I did send you missives and I never received any missives from you. I think Eloise talked my butler into getting rid of the correspondence that passed between us. I can’t prove it. But Eloise was vindictive enough to do that. I released that butler from my employment two years ago, and I hired another one.”

  Brad considered his words then said, “That sounds like something Eloise would do.”

  “The reason Patricia wrote the missive this time is because I was afraid you wouldn’t open it if you saw my handwriting.”

  Brad leaned back in the chair and let out a long sigh. “I suppose Eloise did a lot worse than that over the course of your marriage.”

  Sensing Brad was asking a question more than giving a statement, Stephen nodded. “Yes, she did.”

  He gestured to Stephen’s mask. “I heard about the hand mirror.”

  Without thinking, Stephen touched the mask. “You don’t want to see my face. I look more like a monster than a person.”

  It’d been hard enough for Stephen to reveal himself to Patricia. It was easier to do that with Susanna, but then, Susanna was a baby and hadn’t expected him to look normal. Patricia, thankfully, had accepted him. He realized it was still difficult for her to look at him and not cringe, but she loved him and it was her love for him that had enabled her to see the gentleman behind the beast.

  “I’ll take your word for it,” Brad said, breaking the silence that had fallen between them. “It sounds like Patricia is a good wife.”

  “She is.” Stephen sipped his brandy. “She’s nothing like Eloise.”

  “You have no idea how glad I am to hear that. I spent all this time in guilt because I’m the reason you were with Eloise. I’m sorry, Stephen. If there’s one thing I could go back and change, it would be that decision.”

  “I don’t blame you for doing it. I gave you plenty of reasons to hate me. I’d apologize for each one, but I’m afraid it’d take the bulk of the year to do so.”

  Brad chuckled. “That’s not necessary. I’m just glad we’re finally talking again.”

  “I am, too.” Feeling as if years of guilt had finally been lifted off of his shoulders, he asked, “Would you and your family like to stay here for dinner? I’ll make sure everything is in even numbers. We can even eat at seven.”

  Brad laughed harder. “You remember all of my quirks?”

  “How could I forget? I grew up with you.”

  “I do still eat at seven, but I’ll be happy to eat whenever you do, even if it’s at 6:20 or 6:40. Just so long as there’s a zero at the end of the time.”

  “I’ll tell Cook to have dinner ready at seven. I don’t care when dinner’s served.”

  “I don’t know if you’ll like hearing this, but you’re not at all like the person you used to be.”

  “I do like hearing it. I never want to be that person ever again.”

  Brad offered him a smile, and Stephen returned it, thankful Patricia had written that missive so he and his brother could get a second chance.

  Chapter Twenty

  Two weeks later, Patricia let out a cry as her orgasm swept over her. She stilled on top of Stephen. Her flesh clenched and unclenched around his penis, and he continued rubbing her sensitive nub in order to prolong her pleasure. Stephen was a very considerate lover. She didn’t reach her peak every time they made love, but he made sure she received pleasure during their lovemaking in some form every single time.

  It hadn’t been her intention to be intimate with him when she suggested bringing a blanket and some light refreshments to the maze so they could have a picnic by the fountain. But after they had settled on the blanket, he had started kissing her. She, in turn, had kissed him back. Before she knew it, he had lowered his breeches and drawers, and she had tossed aside her undergarments. Then she lifted her gown and took him into her.

  They hadn’t made love with so many clothes on, but she found it a thrilling experience since neither one had planned for this to happen. Better yet, she was safe giving herself completely to him regardless of where they were because he was her husband and he loved her.

  She let out a contented sigh as she descended back to earth. She opened her eyes and saw that Stephen was smiling at her. He’d put his mask by the basket, and now, as she looked down at him, she realized his face no longer startled her within the first few seconds of seeing it. She didn’t really even see the scars anymore.

  She returned his smile, leaned down to give him a kiss, and then straightened back up so that she could resume their lovemaking. He’d made sure she received her pleasure. It was only fair she do the same for him.

  She began to rock her hips, and with a groan, he closed his eyes and thrust deeper into her. The action felt good, so she moaned. Even if she wasn’t going to have another orgasm, she enjoyed the
feel of him as he moved inside her. Together, they worked to establish a rhythm that would guarantee his climax. When he reached it, he grew taut and murmured her name. She stilled and watched him, taking pleasure in knowing she’d satisfied him, just as he had satisfied her.

  When he relaxed, she leaned forward and gave him another kiss. He wrapped his arms around her and returned the kiss, letting his tongue brush against hers. They continued on like that, content to kiss each other, for a couple of minutes before he kissed her cheek and then her neck.

  “That was wonderful,” he whispered.

  “Isn’t it always wonderful?” she asked, her tone playful.

  “Yes, and that’s because I’m with you. It could never be this good with anyone else.” He kissed her on the lips again. “Tell me I’m not dreaming.”

  “You’re not dreaming. This is all very real.”

  “Good.”

  She got off of him, and they put their undergarments back on. By the time she had placed the tea set and biscuits out, he was buttoning his breeches.

  “I’m sure the tea isn’t hot anymore,” she warned him as she poured the cinnamon tea into their cups.

  “I don’t mind,” he said with a wink. “It’s worth it.”

  She chuckled and gave him a cup. “I had no idea that being married to you would be so much fun.”

  He took a sip of his tea. “To be honest, it’s been years since I had fun. I mean, I enjoyed seeing Loretta and her family…especially her children. The children always had a way of brightening my mood. But it seemed that as soon as they left, the darkness came back. With you and Susanna, it doesn’t go away.”

  “Does that mean you’ll change the color scheme in your bedchamber?”

  He reached over to take a biscuit. “I like the way black and gold look together.”

  “Yes, but I thought you chose black because it’s a reflection of the darkness that was in your soul.”

  “I understand what you’re saying, but I no longer see it that way. I think of the color as soothing. I like the way it looks in the bedchamber. I also like it in clothing. It has a distinguishing effect on a gentleman.”

  She bit into her biscuit and waited until she swallowed it before answering him. “I have to admit you do look good in that color.”

  “Which is why I wear it as often as I do. I know some gentlemen like Lewis enjoy wearing flamboyant colors, but I was never into that kind of thing. I might not be as bad as Brad is about making sure everything matches up, but I always liked clothing to match. The purpose of clothes, after all, is to accentuate a person’s good features.” Then, scanning her up and down, he added, “Except in your case. You look better with them off.”

  Amused, she smiled. “I happen to like you better when you aren’t wearing them, either.”

  “Are you saying I shouldn’t have put my breeches back on?”

  “It’s too chilly out here to be without clothes on.”

  “Not if we’re doing the kind of activity we were just engaging in.”

  “But we just finished doing that particular activity.” She shot him a pointed look then finished her biscuit.

  “I have a feeling if you were to remove your clothes, I might be inspired to engage in another round of lovemaking out here.”

  She bit her lower lip. Did she dare? She’d lost her nerve the last time they were out here when she had planned to make love to him. It’d been much easier getting caught up in the moment.

  He shifted so that he was closer to her. “I’ll keep you warm.”

  “But what about the tea? Do you want it to get cold?”

  With a shrug, he finished his biscuit then set their cups aside. “I happen to like cold tea.”

  He brought his mouth to hers, and before long, they were making love again.

  ***

  A week later, Patricia was getting ready for dinner. Lewis would be coming by that evening. He would spend the night, and then he planned to return to London. His missive hadn’t said much more than that. She was excited to tell him how well things were going between her and Stephen. She thought he might be glad to hear the good news. Plus, he’d get to see his niece.

  Marcy smiled as she brushed Patricia’s hair. “You’re in a pleasant mood this evening.” She giggled. “But then, you’ve been that way ever since Susanna was born. I’m starting to think she brought you good fortune.”

  “It seems that way, doesn’t it? I have a lot to be grateful for.” She glanced at Marcy’s reflection in the mirror above the vanity. “You’re a part of the wonderful things in my life. Sometimes you seem more like a friend than a lady’s maid.”

  Seeming touched, Marcy said, “You’re like a friend to me, too.”

  “In that case, why don’t you call me Patricia? I don’t need for you to address me formally, at least not when we’re in private.”

  “As you wish, Patricia.”

  While Marcy decorated her hair, Patricia asked, “Do you mind if I ask how old you are?”

  “I’ll be twenty-one next month.”

  “Really? I thought you were eighteen.”

  She shook her head. “I’m older than I look. I’ve always been that way. When I was ten, people thought I was eight. When I was eighteen, people thought I was fifteen.” She shrugged and slipped a pin into her hair. “I suppose that’s the way it’ll always be.”

  There was a knock on the door separating Stephen’s bedchamber from hers.

  Patricia’s heartbeat picked up as she called out for Stephen to enter the room. It seemed that every time he came into the room she was in, she experienced a wave of excitement that swept through her entire body.

  He opened the door, looking very attractive in his black frock coat with claw-hammer tails and gray long trousers. The gray shade in the trousers was so close to the silver color in his mask that one would swear the mask was part of his outfit.

  “Mr. Bachman, I’ve seen many gentlemen dress nicely for dinner parties, but I must say none are as well-dressed as you,” Marcy told him.

  “You are very attractive,” Patricia said.

  “You’re both very kind,” Stephen replied.

  Before he could continue, Susanna cooed from the chair she was propped up in near the fireplace.

  “It seems that your daughter agrees with us,” Patricia said with a grin.

  He chuckled and lifted the girl from the chair. “Did you miss me?” he asked her.

  The girl cooed again, and he tapped her nose. “I missed you, too. Maybe tomorrow we’ll take a walk to the covered bridge with your mother.” His gaze went to Patricia. “What do you say? It’s getting warmer out during the day. I’m sure the morning will be pleasant for a walk.”

  “I think it sounds like a splendid idea,” Patricia replied.

  This time when there was a knock, it came from the door leading to the hallway.

  “I’ll see who that is,” Stephen said.

  While he went to the door, Marcy whispered, “It’s nice to watch you and your husband. I’ve never seen a couple happier than you two.”

  Patricia’s face warmed with pleasure, and she smiled at Marcy to express her thanks.

  Stephen returned to Patricia. “Lewis is here. Mind if I take Susanna downstairs?”

  “No, I don’t mind,” Patricia said. “I’ll be down soon.”

  “Maybe he’ll feel more comfortable holding her now that she can hold her head up on her own,” Stephen began. “And if not, I’ll have to give him grief over it.”

  “Don’t give him too much grief,” Patricia said. “He did bring us together. We owe him for that.”

  “I won’t give him too much grief. Only a little.”

  She resisted the urge to shake her head in amusement as he left the room with Susanna. While Marcy slipped the next pin into her hair, she mused, “I have a feeling Stephen is going to tease Lewis this evening.”

  “Are they good friends?”

  “They are. I think they’ve known each other for about seve
n years. I came here to marry Stephen because Lewis suggested it. I wouldn’t have married him otherwise.”

  “You trusted Lewis’ judgment?”

  “I did. Lewis is a good and honest person.”

  “You don’t have to answer this, but since we are friends, I can’t help but wonder…why didn’t you marry Lewis? You two are close enough in age, and it seemed like it would have been easier to marry someone you know than to marry a stranger.”

  “The reason I didn’t marry Lewis is because he’s like a brother to me. We’ve never had a single romantic inclination toward one other. That was probably because I married his older brother. But then, his brother choked on his food and passed away.”

  “Oh dear. How terrible.”

  Yes, Patricia knew it was. Ichabod hadn’t been cruel. He’d allowed her freedom to do as she wished at his estate. But she was so happy here with Stephen that it was hard to be sorry Ichabod had died. If he had lived, she wouldn’t be here now.

  “I hardly knew my first husband,” Patricia confessed. “Lewis didn’t know his brother all that well, either. Lord Pruett liked to keep to himself.” Deciding to leave it at that, she continued, “Lewis is Lord Pruett now. It seems strange to think of him that way.”

  “Does he have a wife?”

  “No, and I suppose since the title has gone to him because I had a girl, he’ll need to get one. Titled gentlemen need heirs, and the only way they’ll get them is by having sons with their wives.” Realizing that Marcy was done, Patricia said, “Thank you.”

  Marcy offered a smile to say she was welcome then left the bedchamber.

  Patricia checked her reflection one more time. She’d never cared so much about how she looked during her ill-fated courtship with Barnaby or her marriage to Ichabod. But she cared now. She wanted to please Stephen when he looked at her.

  After taking a moment to make sure everything was as it should be, she stood up. Spotting a rattle by the window, she went to it and picked it up. Susanna had been holding it when she had been in the chair. Susanna must have dropped it when Stephen picked her up.