The Rakehell Regency Romance Series Boxed Set 4 (The Rakehell Regency Romance Series Boxed Sets)

by Sorcha MacMurrough

  His brows drew downwards. "I don’t think we should go."

  "It will be fine, I promise. We can make ourselves comfortable and drowse in the coach. Besides, it will be about four days altogether, even if we ride post to get down to Somerset. I wouldn’t want to wait another five or six days to get there."

  At his frown, she kissed him on the cheek. "Don’t look so worried. I’ll be fine."

  He was worried, but also disappointed. He had hoped she would be-

  Isolde sensed his feelings. Did she dare say it aloud?

  "My dear Randall, I would be delighted if I were pregnant. But equally delighted if I’m not. I would never want there to be any questions about the legitimacy of any of our children, or your heir, if you want to take the old-fashioned view.

  "I personally think, as do the Rakehells, that inherited wealth can be very unfair. I know you feel guilty for being the one to inherit. You were very lucky. Many are not so fortunate. We won’t be like that with our little ones. And we are on our way to starting our new family already, with the children in Somerset as soon as we get settled in ourselves. It will happen in time, I’m sure of it. For now, though, please don’t be disappointed. It's only been a few weeks, after all. Let’s enjoy whatever each new day brings, without wishing for more than we have."

  He smiled at her. "You’re right, Isolde. I was disappointed. I want to keep you with me. I want a baby, so it will be another tie that binds us."

  She gave him a tender pat on the chest. "We already have so many, not least of which is my marriage vow. I never would have promised those oaths before God if I had not thought I could live up to them."

  "Not even now that you know what I am?" he whispered.

  "What you did! Not are. And the vows don’t say I will plight thee my troth so long as it suits me and I’m not angry with my husband. It says ‘til death."

  "I can’t tell you how relieved I am to hear you say that. I'm going to do my best to make you happy, but don’t be surprised if I try your patience from time to time."

  "Or me yours?"

  He kissed her. "Never."

  "Well, perhaps once or twice?" she said with agrin.

  "Only when you don’t get into bed quickly enough, and when you do that amazing thing with your mouth."

  She grinned. "Oh no, you’re trying to get me to do it now so we won’t have to go. But we need to leave. The servants are already closing up the house for the time being."

  "I hate shirking my Parliamentary duties."

  "Not shirking. You can handle all the paperwork from home. You can come up and down for the big votes. I can’t wait for you to make your maiden speech. Fro now, though, we need to get your mother settled. She’s been doing nothing but talking about going home to Somerset since she suggested it."

  "It was actually her home, you know."

  Isolde nodded. "Yes, she told me she grew up there, that it was part of her marriage settlement. That her parents moved down to Dorset to a new home. So she loves it there. From the way she's described it, I’m sure we all will. I liked Brimley well enough for my family the times I went to see Jasmine and Philip. Now with you as my husband I shall adore it."

  By two they were dressed and ready to make a start. Four days later, an exhausted trio of travelers descended at Barkston House.

  They settled his mother into an airy chamber at the front of the quaint early seventeenth-century mansion replete with wood panelling, and left her with a bevy of maids overseeing her unpacking. She was quiet but glowing.

  Once they had issued their orders for supper, they fell into the bed in the master suite, too tired to even disrobe.

  "Mmm, now this is what I call a bed," she sighed.

  "Good. I’m glad. I like it too."

  "What is it about inn beds that are so awful?"

  "The hardness, the rushes, the bedbugs… Shall I go on?"

  "No. It was bad enough putting up with them. I don’t need to be reminded."

  "I’ll run a bath for us in a minute," he murmured, snuggling against her.

  She sat up higher on the pillows and looked around. The room was vast, with a huge set of windows with seating extending along the width of both sides of the room. Everything was decorated in navy blue and gold. The bathroom was lovely, black, white and gold marble with terracotta inlays. It had a commode, bidet, an adjoining dressing room, and two twin sinks. Best of all, it had a massive tub.

  "My parents modernised everything about seven years ago," he told her as she took it all in.

  It was finer than anything she had ever seen, and she admired the walnut table and chairs in the center of the room for private dining, the bookshelves and the desk.

  "This is to be our own private little haven. No distractions cares or worries here, just happiness."

  "It’s lovely. I feel sure we will be very happy here."

  "Are you certain?"

  "Yes. Look at that view."

  "It will be wonderful to wake up to."

  "So is this one." She caressed his cheek.

  He smiled up at her. She pressed a kiss to his lips and rose to run the bath.

  Then she removed her husband’s dusty, travel-strained clothes piece by piece, starting with his boots.

  "I could get used to this devotion," he sighed.

  "I’m adore yours. Having you brush my hair is wonderful."

  "You need your own maid. We kept Mother waiting ages this morning."

  "Maybe I should cut it."

  "Don’t you dare, ever!" he growled.

  She smiled happy and quickly reassured him. "All right, if you like it so much."

  "Like it? I love it. I love everything about you."

  "The same for me."

  He sat up to help her take off his jacket, waistcoat and shirt. "I want us to be happy here. Anything you want, my love, you have only to ask."

  "All I need is you."

  "And I come along with the children, my mother, a tortured past—"

  She stroked his shoulders lovingly. "I’ve always taken the rough with the smooth. I have more than I ever dreamed with you. Please stop worrying so much."

  "All right. But you will tell me-"

  Isolde nodded. "I will. Now come. Let’s get you scrubbed and to bed."

  She helped him with his back and though he clung to her fiercely, she shook her head. "Rest now. You still haven’t caught up on your sleep from all our nights in London." She helped towel him off and wrapped him in his dressing gown, then led him to the bed and tucked him in.

  "Don’t be long, Isolde?" he asked softly. She could see from the glow in his eyes that even after weeks of wedlock he couldn’t bear to let her out of his sight for more than an instant.

  "I won’t be. A quick bath and I’ll be beside you in a moment."

  She was as good as her word, and she snuggled down beside him wrapped in her warmest dressing gown. He removed it in an instant, insisting on her bare flesh with no barriers between them.

  After a few moments of appreciative fondling of her breasts and belly, he moved lower in the bed and rested his head in the cradle of her thighs, threw his arm around her knees, and slept at last.

  Only then did Isolde breathe a sigh of relief. She adored his devotion, but sometimes it worried her. He was so needy. How on earth could she ever be enough for him?

  Chapter Seven

  The question of Randall’s overwhelming neediness for her love and affection was ever at the back of Isolde’s mind throughout the following weeks of their marriage, which they spent joyously in their new home.

  Randall’s lovemaking was as impassioned as ever. In fact it grew even more so as they got to know each other ever more intimately. Their passion became tuned to the finest pitch, so that one stroke of her breast or of his satin hardness was enough to set them off.

  Randall was nervous in the house at first, feeling like an interloper, haunted by memories of the past. He also seldom went near the stables, though they were the heart of the propert
y in many respects, with some of the finest horses in the County being trained there.

  Isolde knew there was no point in trying to force him. He would have to do things in his own time, in his own way.

  Randall did manage to ease into the affection and closeness of married life without continuously thinking that it had to lead to the whole act itself. He barely let Isolde out of his sight, however, and not finding her in the bed beside him sent into a panic.

  "It’s all right, Randall, my love. I was just bringing you a cup of tea."

  "I dreamt you were..." he said, looking wild-eyed.

  "What?"

  He shook his head. "No, the dream is gone now."

  She put the cup down on the bedside table, climbed back into the bed and wrapped herself around him soothingly.

  "Darling, I would never dream of complaining. I adore being your helpmeet in every way. But you have duties and responsibilities, and so do I. I’m just afraid if we spend all our time together you’re going to grow bored with me. Everyone needs some private time to do what they enjoy, even a busy earl with many commitments. We don’t need to be with each other all the time to prove we love each other."

  He sighed. "I know. I just get so anxious at the prospect of so many unseen enemies out there."

  "So many imagined ones. We know Howell hates us, but as for the rest?" She shrugged. "It is all mere supposition. We’re fine. No one else could possibly find fault with our marriage except for a couple of the society dames you rogered and ran from."

  "And possibly Clarissa’s family. They never did forgive me for her eloping and them never hearing from her again."

  "Not your fault."

  "All the same, they won’t be pleasant to you. They live over at Willesdon. Better to err on the side of caution and just avoid them."

  "Is it?" she challenged. "I’m not so sure. I don’t want to live my life in fear."

  He sat up and put his head in his hands. "I’m sorry. So sorry. I don’t mean to be so obsessive."

  "It’s all right. I know you don’t. I doubt you even realize you're doing it. So please, as a sign that you trust me, can I have a bath behind a closed door for a change?"

  He laughed. "Ah, but that has nothing to do with trust, and everything to do with admiring my lovely wife."

  "All right then, a walk."

  "A walk?" he asked nervously.

  "Yes, to Brimley and back."

  "Maybe I should go with you-"

  "You can go by yourself any time. I’m going to fetch a few sewing notions, and you are not to come," she said firmly. "Otherwise, no bathtime admiring."

  He sighed. "All right. I give in. But you’ll go in the morning, and be back in a hour."

  "I will."

  "I can’t help worrying you know, not after they tried to separate you from me in London."

  "I understand, really, but the authorities never came back. We're married. Even Howell has to admit defeat in the face of my avowal that I love you and married you of my own free will.

  "In any event, I can’t live my life in hiding. We have a wonderful life here at the House, with all we share, but I can’t be everything to you. We’ve sadly neglected the social rounds hereabouts, and I would like your friends the Rakehells to be my friends too."

  "They shall adore you, as I do." He kissed her.

  "Well then, so long as you are not ashamed of me, there are all sorts of local events and so on we ought to get involved in."

  "We've had other duties," he pointed out, rolling onto his side to look at her.

  "Yes, I know. But things are running so much more smoothly now."

  "Yes, thanks to you. I can’t understand Father at all. What was he thinking by leaving everything in such disarray?" he said in obvious confusion.

  For things had really been in a most disordered state, both here and in London. Isolde was only now starting to feel confident that she had enough time to be a mother to the children, who were set to arrive the following day. She was as ready as she could be, or so she hoped. She knew that once the children were there, her life with Randall was going to become even more unpredictable.

  She shrugged in answer to his question. "As people get older, they lose their mental acuity, and they also have different priorities. It could explain why he was accused of fraud, though. He didn’t do anything wrong, he just signed the wrong papers. Was confused."

  "We'll never know now."

  "No, I suppose not," she said, but wondered if it might not be possible to find out...

  "In any case, I’m sorry for the way I’ve been acting. I’ve been so selfish—"

  "Not selfish, no. I know you’re needy too, as am I." She kissed him tenderly. "I love all the attention I’m getting. After years of being fearful of marriage, viewing it with indifference at best, it’s just wonderful."

  "After years in a crowd, being alone with you is marvelous."

  "I understand. But there has been enough gossip about our hasty marriage, I’m sure, let alone our locking ourselves away in here as though we have something to hide. No, love, I know we’re not hiding. You’re fearful, I see that. So am I at times. But we can’t let fear take over our lives. We need to try to behave like a normal couple. Being in company might help keep me safe. It will be hard to snatch me out of a crowd if I have a group of vigilant protectors like the Rakehells on my side."

  "Oh, I’m sure there’s no need to trouble them about our little problem," he said sheepishly.

  "All right, whatever you say. I promise to be careful whenever I go out, but you need to let me go, trust me."

  "I do trust you. It’s Howell I don’t trust. Still, I suppose there is no harm in a trip out to the village. And women certainly do need to shop."

  She planted a warm kiss upon his cheek which soon set him sparking anew. "Thank you."

  "I love you, Isolde. I would do anything to keep you safe. And happy."

  It was hard for Randall to let Isolde out of his sight for so long that day, and there were several times when he almost went after her. In the end she came back safely in an hour with some fabric and buttons.

  She entered the study and gave him a warm kiss, and immediately began on a new waistcoat for him, with the finest embroidery he had ever seen.

  "Sapphire silk with gold," he observed.

  "It is. They are your colors."

  "Just as pale blue is yours."

  "You did well today."

  "It was hard, but I’m trying to take what you said to heart."

  "It’s for both our sakes, Randall. There are going to be times when you might not want me with you."

  "I can’t think of any."

  "Buying a new suit of clothes?"

  "I don’t need any, especially when everything you make is so fine."

  "Going to a doctor then, or the horse races, out hunting?"

  "I would not keep anything like that secret from you, and would not go if it excluded you."

  She smiled and shook her head. "I don’t want you to feel trapped either."

  "I don’t. I’m right where I want to be," he said, putting his arms around her and laying his head in her lap. "At home with my lovely wife."

  She laid her head on her shoulder and tried to convince herself he was sincere. That he was not just doing all this because he feared his own nature, or was trying to placate her so that she would not think he had returned to his rakish ways.

  Despite his letting her out occasionally during the day, Randall was still so nervous of losing Isolde in some manner that they did not go out in the evenings. She told him he did not have to fear for her safety, but he had hastily reassured her and said he simply loved being alone with her.

  In any event, he did not have too much difficulty in finding her during the third month of their marriage, for once the children arrived, she was always in company with them or his mother.

  Randall marvelled at her ability to organise their lives into a seamless and graceful whole. She seemed to thrive even in
the midst of chaos as the eight blonde or red-headed children arrived in their midsts like a comet blazing across the sky. The entire household now had to rotate around their needs, but she seemed to balance things so that no one ever felt neglected.

  The children were not always easy to deal with, especially when they grew fractious and tried to dominate one another. The five boys and three girls had their own distinctive personalities, and James, the eldest at eight, was quite bossy, and had an exaggerated view of his own importance which had to be tempered.