by Anna Gracie
had no idea whether he snored or not.
Certainly no one had ever told him he did--but then he rarely slept
with the women he'd been involved with. Pleasured them, yes, and
gained his own pleasure. But he generally departed their beds after
the event and returned to his own. He was fastidious in that.
Perhaps he did snore. Would his bride wish to smother him in his
sleep? It was a most unsettling notion. Magnus finished his breakfast
in silence.
After breakfast he accompanied Tallie in an exploration of the town and
the waterfront, which, to his surprise, she seemed to find fascinating,
despite the smells. They climbed the Western Heights, where his wife
waxed rapturous about the view. And that, as far as Lord d'Arenville
was concerned, was the sum total of entertainment to be found in the
dreary little town of Dover.
But the more time he spent in his wife's company the more his thwarted
desire grew. She was such a contrast to the bored, world-weary women
he knew. She seemed to find unselfconscious pleasure in the smallest
things, and he could not help but wonder if she would react with equal
delight to the pleasures he planned to introduce her to--as soon as he
found the privacy in which to do so. In the meantime, the mere sight
of her pressing a shell to her ear to listen to the sea, or clambering
over a stile, or running down a hill shrieking with glee was enough to
have him almost moan aloud. He attempted to control his response to
her, but the very impossibility of it unsettled him and made him, on
reflection, furious.
He had never expected to desire his wife. He felt it was both unseemly
and foolish for a man to do so. He had seen other men in thrall to the
charms of their wives--his father, for one--and Magnus had observed
that it gave the wife an unwholesome influence over their husband. No
woman had ever possessed the slightest control over Magnus, and nothing
was going to change that. No, this unaccountable penchant he had for
his wife was merely a whim of the moment, a result of a recent lack of
female companionship. It would pass as soon as the marriage was
consummated--if it ever was!
Damn it! He had never been so desirous of coupling with a woman and so
utterly unable to find an opportunity to do so. With any other woman
he would have dealt with the matter by hiring a room at some low
tavern, or, if the worst came to the worst, there had always been the
coach. But Tallie was both a virgin and his wife. He owed it to her
to carry out the deed in an atmosphere of respectability, at least.
Lord d'Arenville prayed for wind.
The Channel remained smooth and still.
Her husband might have been acting like a bear with a sore head, but
Tallie did not repine. He was clearly a difficult man to please, but
she had known that from the start. In fact, marriage to Lord
d'Arenville was turning out vastly better than she had expected.
Despite his general air of bad temper, she had discovered several
unexpected aspects of his character which she found rather
endearing--unexpected flashes of kindness, for instance, like stopping
the coach so she could look at the sea. She had half expected him to
laugh at her ignorance--but he hadn't. And he'd made no demur about
escorting her along the waterfront--a place she had seen perfectly well
he disliked, wrinkling his long, patrician nose as he steered her
around a puddle of fish guts or a basket of live crabs.
Yes, Tallie thought, it felt wonderful to be strolling about the town
on the arm of such a handsome gentleman--it was still almost impossible
to believe such a magnificent-looking man was actually her husband. The
feeling of warmth that glowed within her as she laid her hand on his
arm, the occasional bumping of their bodies as they walked--it was most
agreeable. And when he smiled, as he had once or twice, and those
long, harsh lines down his cheeks deepened, and his sea- grey eyes
gleamed, she would look at him and feel her breath catch in her throat.
She could not help but enjoy all sorts of little things he did. Like
the way he placed himself protectively between her and the roadway as
they walked. And helped her over stiles as if she were some sort of
fragile, helpless creature, which heaven knew she wasn't, but still.
it was nice to be thought so, at times. And even nicer to reflect that
perhaps he didn't think of her as sturdy any more. Of course, it was
probably only good manners. No doubt he would do exactly the same for
Mrs. Entwhistle--if she ever stopped talking, that was. He had
beautiful manners--when he chose to employ them.
Tallie sighed. There were times when she felt as though she and her
new husband could come to some understanding,
when she felt that she could find some degree of happiness with him
after all. But then, for no reason she could see, he would suddenly
turn back into The Icicle, and any attempt of hers to thaw him out only
seemed to make him snappish as a wolf.
Then Tallie would recall she was not a beloved bride on her honeymoon,
but an inconvenient necessity who was putting him to a great deal of
trouble instead of quietly retiring to d'Arenville Hall to bear his
heirs. Well, she would go into rural seclusion--eventually--but she
had made up her mind to enjoy every moment of her bride trip, and enjoy
it she would!
So, she told herself, rallying, Dover was a fascinating place, and she
had much better things to do than fret herself to flinders over her
husband's disposition. There was nothing she could do about that,
after all. She was foolish to wish for anything more--she was nothing
but a brood mare to him-he had said as much to her cousin, that night
in the library. And, though he'd had enough of exploring the town, she
had not.
Each morning Tallie slipped away from the Ship Inn to visit the
waterfront, secure in her husband's belief that she was with Mrs.
Entwhistle. He himself could not bear the woman's inane chatter
without coldly excusing himself after a few moments, and so Tallie used
his ill-concealed antipathy to her own advantage.
She was intensely curious about every aspect of marine life. She
marvelled at the way gnarled and twisted fishermen's hands could knot
fine and delicate nets. She learned to identify brigantines, sloops
and schooners, and was most excited to have the Revenue cutters pointed
out to her. The fishermen filled her head with thrilling tales of
smugglers, shipwrecks and storms.
One morning a friendly seaman even offered to row her out and show her
over one of the ships. Delighted, Tallie accepted, and was deeply
impressed to discover the ingenious manner in which its interior was
fitted out. The seaman was rowing her back to shore when she noticed
the irate figure of her husband awaiting her. His arms were folded,
his legs braced, and his head was thrown back in a manner which told
her he was not pleased.
When their little boat reached the shore, he hauled her grimly
ashore.
; "What the deuce do you think you are doing, madam?" he said as he
escorted her away from the waterfront in such a rush that she would
have slipped on the wet cobblestones had he not been clasping her arm
so tightly.
"Exploring that big ship out there," she panted.
"It was really most interest--' " How dare you leave the inn
unescorted? " he raged in an undertone, propelling her onwards at a
great rate.
"Have you no idea of how to behave? No idea of the sort of villains
and ruffians who frequent places of this sort?"
Villains and ruffians indeed, thought Tallie crossly. As if she did
not know very well how to tell whether a person was trustworthy or not.
And, since he was so obviously bored by her fascination with things
nautical, what alternative did she have but to go by herself?
She was now a married woman, after all, and had much more licence than
an unwed girl to go where she pleased. It was just that he had these
stuffy ideas about her behaving more 'suitably', more like a
countess.
Well, it was not possible to go from being an unwanted poor relation to
feeling like a countess in a few days. Particularly when he kept
reminding her of her unsuitability!
"Oh, pooh!" she retorted.
"They are most of them very nice." She smiled and waved at an old
woman who sat smoking a pipe outside a tavern, knowing it would annoy
her husband.
"Hello, Nell!"
The woman took the pipe out of her mouth and raised it in a salute,
baring blackened stumps in a wide grin.
"Ar, Miz Tallie."
Magnus swore and lengthened his stride, forcing Tallie to hop and skip
to keep up with him. He stormed up the stairs of the Ship Inn and
flung open the door to Tallie's chamber.
"Oh, there you are, my dears--' began Mrs. Entwhistle.
Magnus bowed, slammed the door, and strode off along the corridor and
up the next flight of stairs to his own room, dragging Tallie with him.
He threw open the door to his own room and was about to usher Tallie in
when he halted abruptly, swearing. Tallie peered around her husband's
body. A halfdozen young sprigs of fashion were sprawled about,
smoking, drinking and playing cards.
"Come in, d'Arenville, of chap," called one young fellow, flushed with
drink.
"An' bring that pretty li'l filly with you."
Magnus seemed to harden with icy rage.
"You refer, sir, to my wife!"
he said in a soft, savage tone. It quite quelled the young gentlemen,
Tallie thought. He pushed her away from the door and shut it. Towing
her behind him, Magnus stalked downstairs and coldly summoned the
landlord.
"Kindly direct me to a private room immediately--one in which I can
speak to my wife without interruption."
"Regrettably," said the landlord, 'not a one is to be had, my lord.
People are even sleeping in the public rooms tonight. "
The reply fanned Magnus's temper to flames.
"Then summon my carriage!"
he snapped.
The carriage was duly brought round, and no sooner were they seated and
the driver directed to "Drive, damn it!" than Magnus began a tirade
which blistered Tallie's ears.
He began with her iniquity in sneaking out of the inn behind his back
and her perfidy in using a garrulous bloody cit as a smokescreen! He
condemned her lack of decorum in venturing out alone and unescorted in
such a filthy little town. He was scathing about her foolhardiness in
entering into conversations with the most unsuitable people--villainous
cut-throats, verminous old women dressed in rags, smoking God knows
what in evil-smelling pipes!
Tallie sat, her hands folded submissively in her lap, listening with
downcast eyes to all he had to say.
'and as for the utter folly of venturing aboard a strange ship in the
company of. of some tattooed ruffian with gold rings in his ears--why,
anything may have befallen you! You could have been kidnapped--or
worse. A villain like that would slit your throat as soon as look at
you! "
Tallie looked up at this.
"Oh, no, my lord. Jack may look a little rough, but truly he is a
decent fellow under all those tattoos. His wife in Jamaica gave him
the earring--' Magnus rolled his eyes and ground his teeth.
"He could have stolen you away on that boat--' " Ship. A boat is much
small--' "Will you listen to me, you foolish chit?" Magnus slammed his
fist onto the leather squabs.
"He could have drugged you, stolen you away and sold you as a white
slave in some foreign port!"
Tallie stared at him. She had heard of white slaves, of course. The
girls had talked of such things after dark in the dormitory. But she
had been in no such danger. Everyone on the waterfront had known where
she had gone.
"But how could he, my lord?" -she began.
"Quite easi--' " For there is no wind to enable the ship to sail away,"
she finished.
"That is why we are not yet in France. Have you forgot?"
Magnus glared at her, stumped for a response.
The coach rattled onwards. Tallie glanced out of the window. They
were well out of town by now, green hedges and trees whipping past in a
blur. It was remarkable how accustomed she had become to the speed of
coach travel. For a girl who'd never been anywhere, she was fast
becoming a seasoned traveller.
She looked back at her husband. He was staring out of the window, a
black frown on his face. He obviously still hadn't got over his
crotchets. She sighed. One would expect such a handsome man to have a
more agreeable temperament, but the least little thing seemed to set
him off. Still, anyone who had been reared in Miss Fisher's Seminary
for the Daughters of Gentlemen knew all about bad tempers. She sighed
again.
The sound made Magnus turn to look at her. She cocked her head and
smiled enquiringly at him.
It was the smile that did it, Magnus told himself later. Quite
obviously she still had no idea of the imprudence of her actions, of
the danger she'd been in. Her countenance showed not the slightest
sign of contrition. His temper, held rigidly in check, burst its
bounds again.
"And what if that damned filthy ruffian had decided to ravish you out
there on that boat?" he snarled.
"What then, eh? You could have done nothing'. Nothing to save
yourself! Did you think of that, madam, eh?
No, I am very sure you did not. You did not think of anything at all,
did you? "
"Oh, he would have done nothing of the sort," retorted Tallie
crossly.
"And if he had--' she glared at him defiantly '--I know very well how
to deal with such matters."
"What?"
"Well--' she began, but her words froze in her throat as Magnus
launched himself at her, lunging across the carriage to grab her
arms.
In seconds he had her hands pinioned behind her back and she was thrust
back along the wide seat of the coach, legs flailing, his muscular body
press
ed heavily on top of hers. She stared up at him, struggling, her
eyes wide with surprise.
"What if he'd had you like this?" Magnus growled.
"Your body vulnerable under his. Accessible to his every desire." He
pressed himself against her, his eyes devouring her face.
Tallie felt something hard pressing into her stomach. She tried to
wriggle away. Her husband's face loomed dark and angry over hers, his
flinty grey eyes boring into her. She could feel his breath warm on
her skin. Ignoring her struggles with ease, he gathered both her
wrists into one hand, leaving the other free.
"And what if he had wanted to do this to you? What would you have done
then, eh?" His hand moved slowly over her breast, stroking and
squeezing.
Tallie gasped in amazement. What on earth was he doing? To take such
liberties with her person. She knew about men taking liberties with a
girl's person from Miss Fisher--she had just never known what exactly
'liberties' were. And she knew very well what the correct response for
a genteel young lady was in this situation--she just wasn't sure she
wanted to make it--just yet.
These liberties felt remarkably pleasant, and she didn't want to stop
him. yet.
The big warm hand exploring her breast caused all sorts of wondrous
shivery responses in her body. Particularly when he touched her. like
that. Ohhh! Like ripples in a pond, the feelings started from her