by Lisa Follett
Lord William stood when she entered the room. She noticed her place was set next to her husband rather than at the end of the table. The warmth from the room and the thoughts of intimacy made her dizzy. She hid her shaking hands behind her back and pasted a smile across her face.
“My lord.”
William held out a chair for her. She was careful to ease herself down rather than flop. Her mother would be quite proud of her ladylike posture.
“Did you rest well? Did you find your bedchamber comfortable?” he asked.
“Yes, my room is lovelier than I could ever imagine.”
The footman set the first course before them, a bowl of soup, and an arrangement of meats, served on blue and white patterned Sevres china. The elegantly dressed table was unlike her usual meals at the vicarage, where simple and plain were preferred. Her mother’s finest china and crystal were reserved for holidays and special occasions. The luxury overwhelmed her. “Do you always dine in this fashion?”
“What do you mean?” He raised his brows in question before focusing his attention on a spoonful of soup.
“Everything is so elegant, so rich. I suppose I am not used to such finery.”
He chuckled before setting his spoon down and giving her an assessing look. She clenched her fist to keep from reaching out and touching his baby soft hair, thick and rich as a cup of chocolate. He beguiled her with his smile which revealed a small dimple in his cheek she had not noticed before. His large dark eyes peered into her soul, as if he knew all of her secrets. She looked into her soup to avoid the intensity of his gaze.
“You are a Prescott now. You will become used to the luxuries of your new station soon enough.” William picked up his spoon.
“I suppose, but it seems wrong to have so much when so many have so little.” Cassie pressed her lips together, thinking about the homeless children, and her father’s poorest parishioners.
“It is only wrong if we keep it all to ourselves. I contribute to the less fortunate, and I can only imagine that with your great heart, you will want to be involved in charity work. You have already made a fine start by helping Anne with her quest to create a home for the orphans.”
She studied her husband for a moment, and decided she was fortunate that she married a good and kind man. She knew young ladies who were married off to men of their station who did not see the injustices in the world, but instead, contributed to them. She wondered if Mr. Parker made charitable contributions, but somehow, in her heart, she knew he did not. On the day they broke off, Mr. Parker seemed more upset at not having what he wanted and of not getting his way. His mother and sisters would have suffered in the end, as well as any children they might have had. His behavior was spoiled and childish. Mr. Parker’s reaction startled her at the time, but now that she had more time to think about it, she realized he never showed any charitable characteristics.
William and Cassie talked about Anne’s orphan project, ideas for decorating the unfinished rooms, and plans for going to London when the Season began. Cassie had never been to London, never had a season, and never made a come out. This would be her introduction to Society, and her first whirl in London with balls, routes, and parties. She could hardly contain her excitement, and questioned William about everything from Almacks to Vauxhall Gardens. She wanted to visit the museums and Hyde Park, and to see the famed Thames River.
William told her stories of his sister’s come outs, the latest on dits, and the expectations of a nobleman’s wife. Their conversation over the meal was relaxed and comfortable, and it flowed freely throughout the evening. She almost forgot about the night ahead –the moment he would enter her bedchamber and make her his wife. The footman kept refilling her wine glass to the point where she lost count of how much she drank. Her head clouded in a strange fogginess. The room spun, making her woozy when William pulled out her chair so she could stand.
He grasped her elbow to keep her from falling. “I believe, my dear wife, you have imbibed in too much wine.”
“Oh, I never drink too much, my lord. I mean, William.”
His arm circled around her waist and pulled her close to lean into him. His warm, masculine body was softer than silk. She suppressed a giggle with her hand and wondered when he would take her to bed. The room shifted as her flesh heated, creating a warm pool of wetness in her most secret place. She thought he said something about going to the drawing room, but suddenly she was lifted into the air like a bird with wings, but instead of flying, he cradled her against his chest. She melted against him, wrapped her arms around his neck, then dug her fingers into his thick mane.
They entered their shared suite, then he carried her to his bedchamber door. Her aching peaks quivered in anticipation. She sighed in exhilaration. The room blurred from the light of dozens of candles, and the scent of roses overpowered her senses. He laid her down on his massive bed. The softness surrounded her and eased her into a quiet bliss.
Cassie closed her eyes and dreamed that William kissed her, touched her, made her his, before she fell into a deep and drunken slumber.
Chapter Seven
William sat on the bed next to his sleeping bride, and struggled to repress his laughter. He spent the last two days looking forward to tonight, to seeing her in his bed, and now she lay fast asleep. He shook his head in dismay. He would have to speak to the footmen about limiting his wife’s wine consumption.
The effect of the wine caused Cassie to become more and more animated. She was such a delightful little package when she lost her inhibitions and rattled on with so much excitement. He loved watching her, listening to her voice, seeing her smile, and hearing her giddy laughter. He watched her hands move as she talked. He was smitten, mesmerized, drawn into her.
He touched her shoulder. “Cassie?” She was out. He removed her slippers from her lovely and delicate little feet. He pushed her skirts up past her knees and swallowed hard. Long, well shaped legs. He slowly untied her garters and rolled her stockings down her legs. Sighs escaped her slumbering throat. He folded her stockings and placed them on a chair along with her garters and slippers.
Now for her dress. He rolled her to her side and undid each button, one by excruciating one, until the milky white skin of her shoulders and back were revealed. He took his time sliding the silk dress from her arms and down her body. He left her in her see through chemise, then laid her dress over the back of the chair and sat beside her to remove his own boots.
He could see her dusky peaks form into tight little buds of desire through the thin material. His eyes roamed her body past her small waist and womanly curves, to the golden thatch of hair at her woman’s core. His cock hardened. He wanted to wake her, to remove the rest of her clothing, to touch and taste her, to make her squirm beneath him and beg for more. He wanted to drive into her and make his rightful claim to possess her and make her his. Instead, he stripped off his clothes and eased his body beneath the covers. He wrapped his arms around her waist and cradled her into him. Her back was against his chest, and her bottom against his erection with her legs entwined in his.
“Sleep tight, sweetings.” He kissed her hair, drawing her lemony scent deep into his lungs, as he waited well into the night for sleep to claim him.
***
Light invaded Cassie’s eyelids. She squeezed her eyes tight, and willed the light and her headache to go away. She reached up and rubbed her throbbing head and groaned. Who opened the curtains? She turned onto her back and opened her eyes, blinking the sleepiness away. Since when did her bed curtains turn navy? She rubbed her eyes with her hands and looked again.
Realization dawned. She snapped upward and took in the masculine room. His room; his bed. The well appointed bedchamber was dark and manly. The solid navy blue covers and curtains matched the navy and gold stripes on the walls. His bed dwarfed the oversized one in her chamber. The four posters rose to the ceiling like towers rising to the sky. His bedchamber was majestic; a room fit for a lord with its’ fine English furniture and
masterpieces of art gracing the walls.
She pulled the covers around her to ward off the chill of the morning after the fire slowed to embers during the night. She looked down and gasped. She could not remember removing her clothes, but here she sat, in her chemise. Had Katie helped her into bed? Surely William would not have removed her clothes. She spied her dress lying across the back of a chair.
Cassie rubbed her temples and tried to remember. They had a lovely dinner and a great conversation. At some point, she began to feel flush with wooziness. The wine. The footman kept refilling her glass. How much did she drink last night? Think, think. The last thing she remembered was being lifted into William’s arms before they headed up the stairs. Did they consummate their marriage? Her clothes were removed, barring her chemise. But could they do that with her chemise on?
She did not feel any different. Her head throbbed and she was somewhat nauseated. Her mother told her she would be sore down there after the first time. Yet, there was nothing. She must have fallen asleep, and either Katie undressed her, or William did. Perhaps she removed her own dress. At least, she hoped.
A light knock at the door startled her. The door opened and Katie came in with a tray. “Good morning, my lady. Lord William told me to bring you up some breakfast.”
Katie sat the tray down on a nearby table and gave her a quick, but assessing look. Cassie squeezed her lips into a tight line. How utterly embarrassing! Surely the maid believed she did that last night with him. The contents of her stomach threatened to come up her throat. The smell of coddled eggs did not help.
“I believe toast and tea is all I can handle this morning. Could you take the rest away?”
“Of course, my lady.” Katie handed her the plate of toast and set a cup of tea on the table beside her bed. She removed the tray and quit the room. Cassie set the plate down on the bed then collapsed back on the pillows.
She never drank so much in her life. Her nerves were on edge last night, and the wine tasted so good. It warmed her throat and loosened her tongue. There was a sense of freedom, an openness she never before experienced. She ate and drank and laughed and talked. It all seemed so perfectly innocent.
Well, there was nothing for it now. She would simply have to pay attention to how much she consumed from now on. She finished her toast and tea then slipped out from under the warm covers, gathered her clothes and entered her own bedchamber. Katie sat and embroidered a piece of cloth while she waited for her mistress.
“Are you ready to get dressed, my lady?”
“Yes. I would like to wear my blue muslin, please.” As Katie went to the wardrobe to pull out her dress, Cassie scrubbed her face and cleaned her teeth, then set about brushing her unruly hair.
Her head still hurt, but the pain started to ease, so she decided a brisk walk would do her some good. She wanted to explore the gardens and the house. She needed to meet the staff as well, and consult with the housekeeper. She must keep busy. Her father always said idle hands belonged to the devil. She had no desire to sit around idle.
She wondered if William might join her to show her the grounds and give her a tour of the house. They got along well enough, and she could not deny her attraction to him. In time she hoped they would settle into a comfortable routine, a pattern acceptable for a marriage of convenience.
In her most intimate dreams, she wanted more, but she knew she could not expect more. He was a lord, a member of Society, and everything she knew about his class suggested they did not marry for love.
Of course, she planned to marry Mr. Parker for love. He told her he loved her when he sought her hand in marriage. He was the first man for which she felt a tender, the first man she loved, but, now, everything had changed, including her feelings. She thought herself in love with Mr. Parker for months. She dreamed of him, their wedding day, and the life they would have together. She pictured little blonde haired children with blue eyes, or possibly green eyes like hers. They made a handsome couple. Everyone said so.
William’s presence in her life baffled her. She did not understand how she could love one man, yet feel such a wild attraction for another. Was it lust she experienced? She almost made a horrid mistake with Mr. Parker, and nearly came to ruin until William swept in and made her his wife. It all happened so fast she could not process it, or figure out how she felt about it.
Cassie knew only one thing –once the decision was made she was committed, and there was no turning back. She was William’s wife now, and she vowed to be a good wife to him. They may not love each other, but they could respect each other. They could get along, and learn to be friends. What was a marriage if not one of companionship? She had accepted her fate when she spoke her vows.
Cassie headed downstairs, taking in her new home. The mahogany paneled walls throughout the house were bare of decor and paintings. She stumbled upon the drawing room with its’ cream walls, plush floral carpet, deep green curtains, and sparse furnishing. The room was light and airy, yet unfinished. She moved to the library, partially filled with books, a desk, and two leather brown chairs. Obviously, William only began to furnish and decorate his home. Maybe he would allow her to take over, or at least help. It would give her a purpose and keep her mind occupied.
The doors to the study were closed, so she knocked lightly and hoped William was in the room working. His voice called for her to enter. Her husband stood behind a large, imposing desk. The paneled walls held paintings of landscapes, ranging from the wild sea to flowers in a meadow. Shelves overflowed with books. Large, overstuffed chairs sat in front of the desk, and a couch and tables graced one corner of the room. The study was complete…finished. Masculine –like the man.
A shiver of awareness slithered down Cassie’s spine. Their eyes met and held for an eternal breath. He came around the desk and stepped in front of her, then stood only a few inches away. He did not greet her with words, but instead, pulled her into his arms and stole a kiss. As his lips, soft and probing, descended upon hers, she melted against him. He pinned her arms, but she wanted to fling them around him, and dive her fingers into his hair. She loved the feel of his hair, soft and thick.
He broke away. “Good morning, Lady William.”
“Good morning, Lord William.” William took Cassie’s hand and guided her to the couch. He sat beside her and looked into her eyes, which caused her to feel stripped raw and unnerved.
“Last night…”
“You fell asleep. I will have to make sure your wine is limited,” William chuckled. Cassie’s shoulders sagged with relief. She hated to think she could not remember her own wedding night.
William reached up and touched her face with the back of his hand. “I thought we could spend our first day together getting to know each other. I can show you the house and gardens, then we can take a ride around the estate. I already asked Cook to make us a picnic lunch. What do you say?”
“That would be lovely.” She smiled tentatively. She still did not know what to think of this man who was now her husband. He was so good to her, yet she barely knew him. She bit her bottom lip, considered him, and thought of the days, and the nights ahead. They had yet to become man and wife in the truest sense, and her blood boiled with fear and anticipation.
They began their day with a tour of the house. Most of the rooms were still unfurnished. William gave her carte blanche to decorate her new home as she wished. His trust in her caused her heart to tumble in her chest. She could not wait to tackle her new project, to let her imaginings become realities.
The room leading to the gardens delighted her senses. Sunlight streamed through tall, gleaming glass windows. She imagined a perfect sitting room, surrounded by bright colors: green plants and vibrant flowers, light colored furniture, and a breakfast table for two. A perfect room to begin their day.
They walked through French doors that lead to the gardens which stretched as far as the eye could see. Although she had seen many lovely gardens, she had never seen such a sight as this. Winding walkw
ays weaved throughout displays of flowers, plants, and trees. Babbling brooks and ponds with fish were interwoven with bridges, gazebos, statues, and benches.
“The gardens are one of the major reasons I purchased this property. The Duke of Wentworth is known for his gardens on each of his estates. There was a time when an invitation to visit Rosehill Manor was quite the coup. I have retained most of the gardeners who originally worked on the estate for the duke.”
“I can certainly see why. A person could easily become lost in the vastness of these gardens. This place is magical. I suspect I will spend a lot of time out here.”
They walked, arm in arm, along various paths, discussing the flora and the fauna, as well as plans for the house. William mentioned putting her in the care of his mother and sisters when they went to Town for the Season. She needed a wardrobe worthy of her station in order to attend all of the routes, teas, parties, dinners, and balls. He promised her a trip to the opera, something she dreamed about, but never had the opportunity to attend.
Suddenly, Cassie realized her lot in life might have been similar if she would have married Mr. Parker, who was the heir to a title after all. Somehow the thought did not give her the same sense of comfort as she walked through these lush gardens with her new husband, Lord William.
Cassie discovered a peace within herself, a rising sense of belonging and joy. She found it easy to talk with William, and he listened as if she were the only person in the world. There was a comfort in their blossoming relationship, along with an ease in their ability to get along. Although her nerves were still frayed in anticipation of his touch, and her gooseflesh rose simply because he was near, she believed she were a butterfly wrapped in a cocoon, preparing to spread her wings. The wondrous and delightful feeling made her pray for its continuance.