by Raven, Sandy
His hand warmed hers as she took it. “Even through your gloves I can tell your hands are like ice.” He wrapped his arms about her, warming her. Leaning down to her ear, he whispered, “We need to get you into a hot bath. Perhaps I’ll even join you.”
She pretended to ignore him as she led the way up the narrow wooden steps from the landing to street level, but his words did melt her insides. The crewmen rowed back out to the ship, leaving them alone among the crowd on the dock.
They waited only a few minutes until a closed carriage came around the corner through the dockside traffic to stop behind the Custom House. The driver stood in his perch and scanned the heads of the people below him. Ren caught the man’s attention with a virtually unnoticeable lift of his hand. As the carriage neared, Lia sucked in her breath when she saw the glossy black finish with its ducal crest and the impeccably liveried driver. A footman in matching attire held the door open for them and Ren handed her up into the carriage. She sank into the deep squabs of dark gray velvet, taking the seat facing forward. Ren sat opposite her. When the vehicle lurched forward, she cried out, “No, stop!”
“What is it?,” Ren asked, leaning toward her.
“My brother? Aren’t we going to wait for him?”
“Don’t worry about Lucky. Cully will bring your brother with him when he comes to the house this afternoon.” She sat back, relaxing only slightly. “This way,” Ren continued, “you’ll get to rest and freshen up before he arrives.”
She crossed her arms and exhaled a deep, aggravated breath. “I don’t know why men think women need so much rest,” she muttered in Italian. “I have done nothing but rest for the entire time I was on your ship.”
He moved to sit next to her, then wrapped his arms about her, he whispered in her ear, “We did get some exercise during our voyage, wife.” His hot breath sent shivers through her, arousing her again, causing her to feel no more than an animal because of how easily he did so. “If you’ve forgotten, and are not tired, we can refresh your memory.” His finger lightly traced a path along her jaw, down her neck, stopping at the top button of her cloak. “Beginning with our bath.”
Lia sighed and melted into his embrace, smiling to herself as she rested her head on his chest. She cuddled nearer his warmth, comforted by his arms around her. It would be so easy to fall in love with him. So easy. But she had to keep in mind theirs was an arrangement, not a love match. And even though they shared passion, it wasn’t love.
She stared in wide-eyed wonder at all the passing sites. It was so unlike her home outside Naples. So different. Occasionally she would ask Ren what a building or landmark was, and he’d tell her. The docks were crowded, but the streets were positively overflowing with people. Traffic was heavy as they moved through the city at a crawl. She’d never seen such a multitude of inhabitants in one city. Seeing all the people moving about caused her to wonder what their jobs were, what purpose motivated their being where they were at that moment.
Ren stretched his legs out and lay against the deep-cushioned back. “I wish there was time to take you on an outing before we leave, but I’m afraid there isn’t.”
Lia turned to meet his steady gaze. “Surely we can stay a few days?”
He shook his head. “For safety’s sake, we must leave for Haldenwood as soon as possible. I have been away too long. After Thomas has been caught, we will return.”
She nodded in agreement, just as she heard church bells begin ringing a familiar hymn. The music was beautiful, almost heavenly. Closing her eyes, she could imagine she was in heaven. The sound got louder as they passed the front of the enormous cathedral from whence it came. Lia crossed herself, then stared in awe at the most beautiful church she’d ever seen. A single tear escaped and trickled down her face.
“Will you cry every day when St. Paul’s rings their bells?” Ren asked.
His words brought her out of her trance. She turned to his soft gaze. “What?”
“I just asked if you were going to cry every day when St. Paul’s—” He pointed out the window to the church now behind them, “—rings its bells?”
“Oh, no.” Lia wiped her cheeks. “I was thinking about my parents. I wish they could have seen this church. It is magnificent. It’s almost as beautiful as the Cattedrale di San Gennaro.”
“I’m sure they would have appreciated its beauty as much as you.”
The rest of the ride to Ren’s town house passed in silence. Lia continued to stare out at the sights of London as the carriage moved through the crowded streets. When they finally stopped in front of a four-story house faced with white stone, she knew she was again gawking, but couldn’t help herself. She’d never before seen anything so grand.
“Is this where you live?” she asked, her surprise evident in the cracking of her voice.
“It is where we live when we are in Town. This is Caversham House.”
“Santa Maria.” She stared in awe at her surroundings and turned to Ren with wide eyes. “I had no idea.”
“I never hid what I am. Why does this surprise you?”
“I knew you had a title, with perhaps a small fortune, but I did not expect this.”
The footman hurried forward to open the door for them.
“There is much I do not know about you, husband.”
“Welcome home, Your Grace,” the footman said.
Her husband nodded an acknowledgement to the man, and reached into the carriage for her hand. She moved to the door and as she was about to step down, he lifted her by the waist and set her gently onto the foot path.
Lia didn’t have time to scold him for lifting her, rather than assisting her, because another impressively-attired footman appeared and opened the tall, black painted door to the house for them. Her husband led her up the wide, marble steps into the foyer.
She continued to gape as she pushed the hood of her cloak back and simply stared at her surroundings. The black and white checkerboard marble floor and staircase certainly caught one’s eye, but the home’s furnishings wrapped her in a welcoming warmth. The highly polished, dark mahogany furniture was in startling contrast to the white walls. A gilt-edged mirror hung from the wall above an entry table, reflecting a delicate china vase which held fresh-cut flowers. Looking up she saw a massive crystal chandelier, and the leaded-glass fanlight window over the tall black-painted wooden doors.
“Welcome back, Your Grace,” the butler said as he removed Ren’s overcoat. The man’s voice brought Lia’s attention back, and now she noticed the staff had lined the hallway to welcome their lord. Her eyes met those of the butler and his steady, professional gaze showed no emotion. Ren came around to take her cloak, handing it to a footman, before turning his attention to the butler and the woman standing in front of the other servants.
“Niles, Mrs. Steen,” her husband said, “this is my bride, the new Duchess of Caversham.”
Lia watched as their eyes widened for just a moment, then their expressions were quickly under control. The two smiled, then congratulated Lia and their employer. Their marriage had obviously caught them by surprise. Straight-backed, her head held high, she smiled warmly and met each of their gazes directly.
Ren began to ease her toward the wide, curving staircase. “When Her Grace’s things arrive, have them sent to our rooms. A little boy will be arriving as well. He is my wife’s brother, Luchino. He will occupy my old room in the nursery. Have a bath brought up to my rooms, and a luncheon tray. For two, please. And afterward, we are not to be disturbed until dinner.”
He continued up the curving staircase, taking them two at a time. Lia had a difficult time keeping up with his pace, nearly tripping several times before they were halfway up. Ren turned and swung her into his arms.
“You are embarrassing me,” she whispered. Squeezing her eyes shut, she hid her face in the curve of his shoulder. They passed several house maids who curtsied as they went by, and Lia wondered how she was to ever gain their respect after his display of adolescent behavior. A
long walk down a thickly carpeted hallway led them to a doorway where another footman stood. He opened the door wide, closing it silently behind them as her husband carried her through, never letting her down.
Ren carried her to his bed and dumped her in the center. Her eyes flew open just in time to see him throw himself onto the bed next to her. His hand came around to brush the stray hair that had come loose from her braid. The delicate touch of his fingers wrapping themselves in her hair near her cheek warmed her. His eyes shone like fine silver, and his gaze never left hers.
“Didn’t I tell you it wouldn’t matter what you chose to wear for the ride home?” One hand dipped low into the square bodice of her pale rose muslin, causing her heart to skip a beat, then race, as he lightly stroked her bare skin.
“You need to cease behaving as an infatuated boy,” she teased. Her smile faded and another, more serious thought crept in. “How am I to gain the respect of the staff if you treat me like... like... a play thing? I’m a woman, fully grown, and must now behave in a way so as to reflect your status, making you proud. My job as your wife is to support your position in society honorably and with grace.” She closed her eyes again and inhaled a shaky breath. When she opened them she saw his crooked, devilish grin. “I’m serious, husband, do not laugh.”
She removed his hand from her bodice. “I shall require more gowns, respectable gowns, not with necklines such as these. I am no single miss that I must display my assets to attract a man. I already have one.”
“Then when the dressmaker comes tomorrow, tell her exactly what you want. You will need a few dinner dresses and formal gowns for those times we must make an appearance at some function or another.” His index finger traced a path along the edge of her neckline from one shoulder to the next, causing her breath to catch when he paused between her breasts. “But other than those occasions, I don’t see a need for any clothing whatsoever.” His head dipped to the valley where his finger had just been, and kissed her there. His lips lightly traced a path up the slopes of her breasts, kissing the full curve of each. “I rather like you as God made you,” he whispered. His warm breath sent a flood of shivers down her spine, feeding that familiar pool of desire in her core.
Frustrated with her own body’s weakness to resist his attentions, she tried to roll away from him but his muscled arm held her in place. “Our luncheon tray will....” she said.
He nuzzled the area just behind her ear, and chuckled softly at her attempt to stop his lovemaking. “It will keep in the sitting room.” He kissed the hollow of the base of her throat, and she tilted her head to offer him more. His tongue traced a path upward, over her chin. “Because I want you again,” he whispered before taking her lips in another of his whirlwind kisses.
Lia woke to the sound of a knock at the bedroom door. She reached for her husband, but the sheets on his side of the bed were cool. Sitting up, she pulled the covers up to her chin, nervously wondering from which of the four doors the sound came, and whether she should respond. A moment later, another knock came, louder this time. It came from an interior door, which she presumed led to a sitting room. “Yes?”
The door opened, and a dark head leaned in. When Lia saw the maid from the inn in Genoa, she cried out with delight.
“I thought we left you behind,” she said excitedly in her native tongue. “I asked my husband to bring you along after I witnessed... I’m so sorry, Ghita, for my part in what happened to you. Can you ever forgive me?”
“Oh, my lady, there’s nothing to forgive.” Ghita’s eyes widened when she stepped into the rich blue and dark mahogany room. “I have never in my life seen such a home! Every room I see is more beautiful than the last.” She picked up a robe, holding it out for Lia, who dropped the sheet, took the garment, wrapped it around herself and tied it about her waist.
Ghita crossed the carpet toward a door to Lia’s right. “Your rooms are through that door. I have all your dresses steamed and hanging in the wardrobe. You have but to tell me which you would like to wear for dinner and I’ll help you dress.”
“Thank you.” Lia scooted to the edge of the massive bed. It was so high, her feet could not reach the ground. She slid off and walked through the door Ghita held open for her. Her eyes took in the splendor of the room, a much more feminine version of her husband’s. A pale blue and gold, the room had textured silk wall coverings and velvet drapes. Sunlight poured through the lace sheers covering the windows. The furniture, all painted white and gold, gave the room a much lighter feel than the master suite, with its dark furnishings.
Her carpet was light blue with intricate patterns of white roses climbing a golden trellis. Barefoot, she sank her toes into the rich tufts, relishing its softness. “O, Dio mio!”
“I said the same thing, my lady,” the maid replied, as she opened one of the room’s three wardrobes. “His Grace said that dinner was in an hour. He is downstairs in the study waiting for you.”
“Is my brother here yet?”
“Sì,” Ghita held out several dresses for Lia to choose from. Lia chose one to wear, and the maid continued. “Luchino’s upstairs resting before dinner. He ate a big noon meal, and has been playing in the garden with a puppy he found at the dock. He petted the thing a few times while we waited for the coach. When we left, it followed us for several blocks. The boy begged Signore Cully to stop the carriage so he could fetch the beast. Signore Cully said no, but Luchino was rather insistent about it. So we picked up the animal and brought it home. His Grace said the dog was to remain in the stables. Your brother said no, the dog stays here in the house, with him. Eventually, a compromise was reached, and the pup has a bed in the back garden, and he has already given it a name.”
Lia sat at the vanity smiling, as Ghita began to style her hair. “What has he named the pup?”
Their eyes met in the mirror. Ghita smiled. “Brutto,” she said. “The name is appropriate, as the thing is very ugly, if I do say so myself. It has an enormous head, is bony and full of fleas.”
Lia laughed. “Did my husband make him bathe the pup?”
“Not His Grace. The butler made him do it,” Ghita struggled with the English butler’s name. “Signore Niles.” As she coiled Lia’s hair into a loose chignon, pinning it carefully, the maid continued, “Oh my lady, you should have seen the man’s face when Luchino walked in carrying the wriggling pup. He went mad! Veramente pazzo!”
As the maid continued to describe the scene as it played out, they both erupted in laughter, Ghita doubling over, holding her side. “I could have sworn the man was about to turn blue,” Ghita said. She caught her breath and continued, “Signore Cully stepped in and asked your brother to carry the dog around back and leave him in the garden.
“When Luchino came back in the house, he was nearly as dirty and flea-infested as that mangy pup. That’s when Signore Niles made your brother bathe—first the ugly creature, then himself.”
Lia smiled at the reflection in the small mirror before her, delighted that her brother was once again his usual self. She promised herself once more that she would do anything within her power to make Luchino’s life happy again.
Once her hair was styled, Ghita assisted her in dressing. It seemed to take forever for the new maid to fasten all the tiny buttons along her spine. Dressed, Lia walked to the gilt-edged cheval mirror and, smoothing her skirt needlessly, gave final approval to her appearance. Calming the butterflies in her belly, she hoped her husband’s family approved because she really did want to make the marriage a pleasant one for both Ren and herself. Ghita opened the door for her and she proceeded along the red-carpeted corridor to the marble staircase, then down to her first dinner in her new home.
Lia looked into the front rooms of the house’s main level, near the foyer where she’d entered, and discovered only parlors. She continued down the hallway, devoid of servants, knowing that eventually she would find her husband. Her search wasn’t only to find him, but also to learn where and what each room was as she’d not ye
t had a tour of the house. Finally she saw a footman enter the hallway carrying a tray with a pitcher and four goblets.
When he got closer, she asked, “I was wondering where I might find my husband and my brother.”
“Yes, His Grace is in his study, awaiting your company.” He set the tray on a commode table, and led her down the hallway. “The young man has already been roused, and is dressing for dinner as His Grace has requested the boy’s presence in the dining room this night.”
Lia nodded and thanked the man, following him the rest of the way, until he announced her entrance in the masculine room. She met her husband’s molten metallic gaze as she stepped forward. Ren rose from the chair behind his massive desk and came around to meet her in the middle of the long room. Taking her small gloved hand in his larger one, he turned it over and kissed it affectionately in the center, his eyes never leaving hers.
Time stood still for Lia as she savored the heat of his lips through the silk of her gloves. Even though they’d made love only hours before, his touch sent shivers racing through her body. She sucked in a breath, unaware that she’d stopped breathing, and broke eye contact when she realized there were others in the room.
Ren stepped aside and taking her hand, led her deeper into the long room. He stopped before his uncle and the men she remembered from Genoa, his cousins. The three men smiled as her husband introduced them.
“Lia, you remember, my uncle, Angus,” he turned to the older of the three men, now clean shaven and freshly bathed. He appeared a weathered old businessman in his finely tailored dinner clothing, and when he smiled, appeared fatherly and warm. “Mr. Angus Culloden Sewell, I’d like for you to meet my wife, Her Grace, Angelia Serena, The Duchess of Caversham.” Angus bowed to her and when he rose took her hand and placed a kiss above the knuckles.