Nigel did not stroke her then but, holding her eyes with his, lifted his hands to untie the bow at her neck. Her faint gasp of protest he responded to by kissing her forehead and turning over on his back, not touching her. Alicia could have cried with vexation. Slowly she wriggled out of the nightdress and pushed it onto the floor. He turned to her again and she could see his smile even in the dark room. “You are laughing at me,” she whispered fiercely.
“Never,” he replied, covering her lips with his. His hands found the soft skin of her breasts and a shiver ran through her, but it was of anticipation and not of fright. His hands explored her body then, as she clung to him. Slowly, patiently he excited and reassured her until she no longer cared that she was vulnerable. The knowledge that he loved her and would never hurt her now became something that she could feel as well as believe. And when his warm brown eyes regarded her inquiringly, she nodded and murmured, “I love you, Nigel.” He was well rewarded for his patience; her response was everything either of them could have hoped.
Alicia felt her cheeks wet with tears of relief and joy. Nigel kissed them away and held her close to him. “Will it always be like that?” she asked wonderingly.
“No,” he admitted. “But sometimes. I hope often. You are a very sensuous woman, my love.”
“Do you mind?”
Nigel laughed until his body shook against hers. “No, dear, I am very pleased.”
“I think I may still be afraid sometimes,” she confessed.
“Yes, for a while, but that will pass.” He let her go for a minute then and reached over to strike a flint and light the candle. She shyly pulled the cover about her, as he pulled his nightshirt over his head and tossed it to the floor. He shook his head when he saw her clutching the cover and gently removed it from her fingers. “Do not deny me the pleasure of seeing you, Alicia. I know it is difficult, but better now when you have experienced the pleasure your body has to offer than in the morning when it will be but a memory.”
Alicia blushed under his gaze but did not turn her head away. He tickled her feet and she reciprocated by tickling him under his arms. Their match soon degenerated into a pillow fight and when Alicia lay back exhausted, she was aware that she had in the course of it been exposed to his naked body. “How could you know that would be even harder?” she whispered.
“It just is,” he replied evenly. He put out the candle then and lay next to her in bed. “When you feel comfortable about...everything, I hope you will speak with Felicia. Rowland wishes to marry her, you know, and if she can see that you have left your bad experiences behind, she may be amenable. I think she cares for him.”
“Yes, I am sure she does. You would approve of such a match?”
“Certainly, but it has nothing to do with me. My sister already suspects what is going forward and she seems well pleased. He is a good lad, Alicia.”
“I know,” she mumbled sleepily. “He reminds me of you.”
Nigel laughed and kissed her. “Go to sleep, love. I have plans for you tomorrow.”
Chapter Twenty-four
“Would you mind if I join the hunt tomorrow, love?” Nigel asked a week later as they lay in bed. “It’s likely to be the last of the season and I seem to have been too occupied this winter to participate. I won’t go if you’d rather I did not.”
Alicia regarded him fondly. “Poor dear, you have spent the whole of the season too immersed in my problems to have any fun.”
“I have had a great deal of fun,” he retorted, touching her nose. “Would you like to come?”
“No, thank you, but I hope you will go. I have a stack of letters to answer, and I never seem to find the time when you are with me.”
With a sigh he murmured, “And here I thought you treasured every moment we shared.”
“I must accustom myself to a few moments from your side,” she declared virtuously.
“But not until morning,” he laughed as he gathered her into his arms.
* * * *
Alicia awoke for the first time since they had arrived at the estate to find him gone from the bed, and puzzled for a moment over his disappearance. When she remembered that he was to join the hunt that morning, she arose leisurely and rang for Mavis. “I shall have tea and toast here, Mavis, please and if you will, build up the fire. I think I shall write my letters at the escritoire.”
The snow was falling outside and she moved to the window where she caught a distant glimpse of scarlet coats through a break in the trees. Thinking that she would take a walk later in the snowy landscape, she picked up Felicia’s letter and reread it. Strange to be away from her, she mused, but she is growing up. The time will come...Well, there was no need to think of that now.
When she had spent an hour diligently scribbling answers to the half dozen letters before her, she was interrupted by a knock at the door.
“Begging your pardon, ma’am,” Mavis said, “but a Mr. and Mrs. Gray have come to call. The housekeeper says they are acquainted with his lordship and are neighbors.”
“Very well, Mavis. Have them put in the front parlor and I shall be with them directly.”
As she entered the room, Alicia surveyed the middle-aged couple with interest. They had not had many callers and she was curious about their neighbors. The woman was tall and angular, in contrast to her short and stocky husband. There was a look of long-suffering about Mrs. Gray’s eyes which was not entirely dissipated by her courteous smile.
“I hope we do not intrude, Lady Stronbert. It is so seldom that Lord Stronbert visits Ambleside and we wished to offer our felicitations on your marriage.”
“That is kind of you, Mrs. Gray. Unfortunately my husband is out this morning, but I hope you will have tea with me.”
Mr. Gray entered the conversation with boisterous alacrity. “Very thoughtful of you, my lady! Just the thing on a cold day! Quite a chilly drive over here, you know. Our estate is some five miles to the north, don’t you see? Didn’t think to have hot bricks for such a short journey, but it would not have been amiss, eh, Mrs. Gray?”
His wife murmured her assent as Alicia pulled the bell cord. “I trust you find yourself comfortable here. Our weather is so lovely in the summer that it seems a pity for you to visit here first when it’s so miserable out.”
“Oh, I enjoy the snow,” Alicia assured her before turning to advise the footman that they would have a tea tray. “I have not traveled much and I find the area lovely.”
“That it is!” boomed Mr. Gray. “No spot in all England to match it for my money!” No one could summon up more than a mumbled assent, so he proceeded, “I understand you come from Scarborough-way, Lady Stronbert.”
Surprised, Alicia agreed that she had lived there many years.
“And you’ve a charming daughter from your previous marriage?”
Although Alicia tried to tell herself that there was no cause for it, she experienced a stab of alarm. How did this man know so much about her? His wife wore a disapproving expression, but he paid no heed to it. “Yes, I have a daughter Felicia who is sixteen.”
“Yes, indeed. Mrs. Gray and I have not been blessed with children, and we regret it, I assure you. No one to carry on the name, and all that. A great comfort, children. And I imagine you especially are aware of that.”
This time Alicia did not attempt to ignore the alarm that gripped her. The man was purposely alluding to Sir Frederick’s desertion of her, and she had no doubt that he would manage to inquire into her shop next if she did not immediately turn the conversation. Very clearly she saw the words Tackar had penned to any number of people in England before his death, and she could easily believe that Mr. Gray had seen or heard of them. How could she have been so stupid as to believe that Nigel’s efforts to erase the rumor would be entirely effective? Somehow it had not mattered in Tetterton, and at the Court. But outside her narrow boundaries people could still believe, and spread, the gossip.
She pointedly turned to Mrs. Gray, who had suffered through her hus
band’s remarks uneasily. “My husband has joined the hunt this morning. He asked me if I should like to go, but I had some letters to write, and I have never hunted myself. Are there ladies in the neighborhood who do?”
Apparently Mr. Gray thought himself better equipped to answer than his wife. “Not many. The occasional hoyden joins the field, but the ladies are frowned on. Can’t keep up, and if they do they are forever overriding the hounds.”
A footman appeared with a silver tray laden with the tea apparatus and a plate of biscuits. Relieved, Alicia began to pour out for her guests as she offered some casual remarks on the merits of Gunpowder and Pekoe over Congou and Souchong.
“I have the greatest apprehension, myself, of green tea, Lady Stronbert. A slow poison, I assure you, and bound to destroy the nerves. Of course, each to his own, but I will not have it in my home.” Mrs. Gray seemed as eager as Alicia to keep their discourse on the most mundane level, and though Mr. Gray not infrequently attempted to enter the conversation with such remarks as “What a blessing your poor daughter should now have the marquis as her guardian!” or “It will be a relief for you to live out of town, without all the noise and shops about, after being in that market town, Lady Stronbert,” he was consistently ignored.
Refusing a second cup of tea, Mrs. Gray rose and said firmly, “We must be leaving, Mr. Gray. I hope you will convey our best wishes to your husband, Lady Stronbert.”
Alicia assured her that she would; she felt sorry for the woman, who obviously cringed at her husband’s rude conduct. Eager to see the two of them from the house, Alicia incautiously offered Mr. Gray her hand in parting. He grasped it tightly in his pudgy hand and squeezed it familiarly, at the same time offering a knowing wink. Since Mrs. Gray had preceded him and was out of earshot, Alicia quelled him with a cold stare and said softly, “We will not see you again, sir. You would do well not to believe every malicious bit of gossip to come your way. It does you no credit, and my husband less.”
An angry flush rose to his cheeks, but he made no reply as he stomped after his wife. Alicia watched the door close behind them before she seated herself once more on the sofa. Her head had begun to pound and she knew that she should lie down on her bed, but she had to think about what this meant—to her, to Nigel, to Felicia. Of course, few were as ill-mannered as Mr. Gray; she was unlikely to be confronted with such a blatant display if she remained at the Court. And Nigel, well, she could not imagine anyone having the nerve to pull their tricks with him. He was above reproach in her eyes, and she did not doubt that anyone who met him would feel the same. But Felicia, what weapons had she to fight such slander? Sooner or later she would be faced with a wider world than Tetterton, and could Alicia protect her in such a world?
This was not the time to worry over such problems—not on her honeymoon. By the time Felicia was old enough to venture beyond her new home perhaps sufficient time would have passed to eradicate any lingering rumor. It would not be fair to burden Nigel with the problem. When she thought of all the efforts he had made on her behalf in the last few months, she was ashamed to even contemplate mentioning the matter. Ridiculous to be so upset by Mr. Gray—uncouth and disagreeable as he was. What she needed was to clear her head, and a brisk walk outdoors was the perfect remedy.
Nigel rode up to find her tramping through the snow in a fur-trimmed scarlet mantle, her cheeks rosy from the cold. She turned eagerly at the sound of hoofbeats and smiled up at him. “I thought you would be longer. Did you have a successful morning?”
He swung himself down from his horse and kissed her cheek. “Not bad. There’s too much woodland for really good sport.”
“But did you get the fox?” she asked anxiously.
“Lord, no!” he laughed. “With all these woods for cover? A few of the men tried to tell me they sometimes do run one to ground, but I think it is only a glorious fantasy. Have you been worrying about the poor fox?” he quizzed her, laughter twinkling in his eyes.
“Actually I had not thought of it at all until you rode up. Foxes do a great deal of damage to the farms, no doubt, but it seems grossly unfair for a pack of hounds and dozens of riders to chase one poor little fellow.”
“So it does, my love, but the real sport is in the ride—over the hedgerows and fences.”
Alicia shook the snow from the hem of her mantle as she said, “We had some callers this morning, a Mr. and Mrs. Gray.”
“I remember them,” he replied with a slight frown. “Not a particularly endearing couple, as I recall. I hope they did not bore you.”
“They did not stay long. You must be famished. Shall I order a luncheon?”
Although he detected a slight undercurrent of disquiet in her, Nigel dismissed the thought when she smiled up at him, pink-cheeked and bright-eyed. “If you will, Alicia. I won’t be a moment in the stables.”
Determined to forget the morning’s less agreeable incident, Alicia chatted cheerfully over their meal. While her husband discussed estate matters with his agent, she finished several more letters, and rode out with him late in the afternoon. Still unable to shake her worries, she found it difficult to sustain a conversation at dinner and Nigel asked gently, “Are you missing Felicia, my love?”
“Why, no...well, perhaps a bit. Her letter was delightful and it is rather lowering to think that she goes on perfectly well without me.” Alicia assumed a mock distress, which did not entirely satisfy her husband, but he made no comment.
Instead of asking her to play for him, he suggested that he read to her. “I found Cowper’s Winter Evening in the library. We have all six books of The Task at the Court, but this is the only one I could find here. Certainly the most appropriate, in any case.”
Charmed by the exquisite description and the wealth of kindliness that flowed through the work, Alicia relaxed in the shelter of his arm, and watched the snow falling beyond the windows, until she fell asleep. For some time Nigel gazed down at the lovely face, with the long eyelashes fringing her cheeks and the lips soft in repose. Then he lifted her in his arms, and she snuggled sleepily against him while he carried her to her room.
Mavis was waiting there but he said, “I’ll see to her. She will call you in the morning.” Alone, he placed her on the bed and undressed her like a child, awkwardly shifting each arm and leg as she murmured unintelligibly. At last he managed to slip the nightdress over her and tuck her under the covers before he went to his dressing room. When he returned and slipped carefully into her bed he was surprised to find her awake.
She had had a nightmare. Once again she had been seated at her dining table in Tetterton with Francis Tackar seated opposite. The bonnet was no longer lying on the table, but she was seated naked before his gaze as he crunched fiercely at the partridge bones. He kept singing, “The bonnet, the bonnet, bring on the bonnet,” and Mr. Gray had appeared with the bonnet perched precariously on his head. From beneath the floppy brim he had ogled Alicia and protested, “I have the bonnet now. She is mine to do with as I wish. Don’t be so greedy; you can have the other one. A child needs a guardian. That’s it, you shall be her guardian. Children should be a comfort; she will be a comfort to you. This one is mine.” And he had reached out his pudgy hand to fondle her.
Confused, and with her brain still fogged by the dream, Alicia shrank away from Nigel as he climbed in beside her. An uncontrollable shiver shook her body.
“Are you cold, love? Shall I build up the fire?” he asked gently.
“No. No, I am fine.” She blinked nervously at him as he took her hand.
“You’re as cold as ice! Let me warm you.” When he held her to him he was aware of her rigidity and he stroked her hair to calm her. Although she warmed from his contact, she did not relax in his arms. “Are you upset, Alicia?”
Still in the grip of the fear from her dream, she shook her head, more to reassure herself than in answer to him. “I am ready,” she whispered.
“For what?”
“To oblige you.”
Nigel took h
er by the shoulders and held her away from him. “Don’t you ever do that again! Never, do you hear, Alicia?”
“Do what?” she asked on a sob. “What have I done?” Bewildered, and hurt by his anger, she could not restrain the tears that crept down her cheeks.
“Forgive me, love, for startling you.” He cradled her in his arms and rocked her until the tears dried. “Do you think I cannot tell when you are frightened, Alicia? Am I so demanding that you must offer yourself to me when you don’t want to?”
“I wanted to please you,” she choked.
“You would better please me by telling me what has upset you, my love.”
“I had a dream...about Mr. Tackar and Mr. Gray.”
“Gray? Just what happened here this morning, Alicia?”
Haltingly she repeated the remarks Mr. Gray had made. “It does not sound like much, I know, but I could tell that he had his information from those odious letters. He made my skin crawl, Nigel. I do not mind so much for myself, but Felicia. She will have to face people one day who will believe those lies.”
“And did you think to hide away at the Court, Alicia?” he asked seriously. “I have done what I could to banish the gossip, but it will be necessary for you to be seen to set matters straight.”
“I don’t care what they say about me, Nigel.”
“Well, I do.” The unbending steel was in his voice, though his hand continued to stroke her hair. “It is my intention to have you and Felicia presented at a drawing room this spring.”
“You never said so! Nigel, I have only once been to London. Really, there is no need.”
“It is important to me, Alicia. I have my own name to protect as well as yours. You must not forget my children. What scandal attaches to my name is inherited by them.”
Alicia Page 26