The Bad Luck Bride

by Janna MacGregor

  If he had asked if he could sleep with her, she’d have said yes, without hesitation. Why couldn’t she summon the words herself?

  “Alex, stay,” she whispered.

  * * *

  Alex approached the carriage with a light step. Claire was already waiting, early for their ride to the village. He looked his fill at the delightful sight before him. His wife was a beauty. Her skin glowed with a natural vibrant color as she happily conversed with the groomsmen who would accompany them.

  The attendants scrambled to make the team of four ready. The corners of Claire’s mouth turned up more than they did down, a good sign this morning. If the servants’ argument over the curse bothered her this morning, she hid her discomfort with grace.

  “Good morning, my lord.” Claire glanced his way before she took Charles’s hand for assistance into the carriage. The warmth of her smile echoed in her voice.

  “Good morning, my lady.” Alex closed the door to the carriage and gave the signal to start. “You must have had a good night’s sleep to put the bloom in your cheeks.”

  Claire’s eyes twinkled with mischief as she tilted her head to examine him. Her morning gown, a simple design of turquoise muslin with pearls sewn on the bottom of the dress and a matching ivory spencer jacket, set off her figure. “I’m certain sleep is part of it. I got up early and rode Hermes around the estate. Nothing too strenuous, I assure you. Charles accompanied me, if you’re concerned I rode alone.”

  “Darling, that’s wonderful you’ve found the time for a ride.” Charles had taken his wishes to heart. This was excellent news, and a brilliant idea on his part if her exuberance was any indication. She’d taken a keen interest in exploring Pemhill. “I will attempt to have you back early enough for a rest before dinner.”

  Claire answered with a smooth hint of laughter in her voice that reminded him of honey, sweet and rich. “How thoughtful, but I assure you I’m up for anything today. As a way of showing our support to the local village, I thought we’d eat at the tavern.”

  Alex raised an eyebrow. “I wish I had known earlier. I have some estate matters that need attention today. Would you mind if we postponed that outing for another day?”

  “Please go ahead without me and take the carriage. I’ll have Charles accompany you to Pemhill, and he can return to escort me home.”

  With a spirited single-mindedness, Claire had outmaneuvered him. As the only recourse, he delivered his most roguish smile, regrouped, and attacked her flank from another direction. “I was hoping later in the afternoon we could plan the tenants’ baskets for the twenty-five families. Maybe go on that picnic I promised you. We could start the deliveries tomorrow.”

  All he wanted was time with her alone without any interruptions.

  Claire cocked her head as if examining a rare animal. A flash of humor fell across her face that caused her eyes to widen. He remembered that look from Lady Anthony’s ball. It still had the power to turn his insides out.

  He resorted to his last tactic to keep her visit short. “In the village, there’s not much to keep a lady entertained. My sister complains repeatedly that the shopping is nonexistent. You’ll be bored waiting for the carriage to return for you.”

  “You’re too kind, but I’ll have plenty to do. I thought I’d see if the butcher has enough smoked hams available for every tenant. I’d also like to purchase candies, toys, maybe some fresh fruit for the children. Mrs. Malone told me how many families have small children and their ages. Please, I want to meet everyone and see everything the village has to offer.”

  How could he deny such a simple request? He only hoped their day wouldn’t be too tedious for either of them. All he wanted was to spend time with her, preferably alone. If that was how she wanted to spend the day, it would be his pleasure.

  Alex found himself smiling like a fool in answer to his own wife’s excitement of spending the day in the village. If he could keep that expression on her face, he would deem today a success.

  He made a show of helping Claire down from the carriage when it stopped. When she stepped out, her eyes brightened as if the sun had favored her with a kiss. Quite a contrast from her mood when she’d first arrived at Pemhill.

  The village was small by most standards, but it had everything the community needed. There was a sundries store, a butcher, a blacksmith, and a small shop that carried fabric, trims, and other sewing items. It even had several ready-made dresses hanging in the window. Other businesses lined the rest of the street. There was a doctor, a solicitor, a church, and the local tavern.

  Alex escorted Claire into the sundries store, where the proprietors, Mr. and Mrs. Brown, waited and gave an appropriate bow. “My lord, to what do we owe the pleasure of your visit today?”

  Alex returned a nod. “Good morning, Mr. Brown. Lady Pembrooke, I’d like to introduce you to Mr. and Mrs. Brown. My wife, the Marchioness of Pembrooke. We’d like to acquire some necessities for the tenants’ baskets.”

  Claire carried herself confidently as she said, “It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”

  Mrs. Brown curtsied. “Good morning, my lady. What an honor our shop is part of your visit. Please accept our congratulations.”

  Claire returned her smile. “Thank you, Mrs. Brown. You have a lovely establishment. I’ll be picking up quite a few things for our baskets and for Pemhill, too. If you don’t mind, I’d like to browse before I start my selection.”

  Alex watched his wife work her magic on the Browns. She asked Mrs. Brown her opinion on the quality of the sugars and the flours available. Mrs. Brown’s face grew animated as she divulged all her knowledge within a one-sided fifteen-minute conversation.

  As Claire listened intently, she glanced at Alex and gave a quick wink. The day got a little brighter, and Alex quickly answered with a wink of his own.

  Midmorning they stopped at the butcher’s shop. Harold Higgenbottom was a beefy man with fists the size of a ham and an apron that readily displayed remnants of his work. Alex wondered how his wife would handle the big fellow, but before he could introduce Claire, she jumped to meet him herself.

  “Good morning, is it Mr. Higgenbottom? I’m Lady Pembrooke. I could smell the wonderful smoked meats from a block away,” Claire called as she walked right up to the man.

  Mr. Higgenbottom didn’t bow, no doubt because his large, rounded stomach got in the way. In fairness, he gave his best effort and briefly nodded toward Claire.

  Without taking his eyes off her, the butcher acknowledged Alex’s presence. “Good morning, Lord Pembrooke. I see the rumors were true. The Browns rushed to tell me I was on the list to meet Lady Pembrooke.” The butcher gave one of his rare, toothless smiles and asked Claire, “How may I help one of the prettiest ladies to grace my store outside of my own missus?”

  Alex’s mouth dropped open, until decorum and the buzz of a wayward fly demanded he close it. Claire had the curmudgeon eating out of her hands.

  “Thank you, sir. I am in high company indeed, if you’re comparing me to your wife.” Claire laughed. “Tell me, how many of those hams are available?”

  Claire and the butcher went to the back of the shop to work out the details of her purchase. She complimented his work after sampling, then ordered thirty hams, one for each basket and five for the house. Mr. Higgenbottom promised, as a special favor for the marchioness, to deliver the order tomorrow.

  Alex allowed Claire to lead him to the village doctor’s office. The young doctor, Wade Camden, met them outside.

  “Good morning, Lord Pembrooke,” Camden called out in greeting.

  Alex’s hand rested on Claire’s lower back. “Lady Pembrooke, this is Dr. Wade Camden.”

  Claire stepped forward. “It’s lovely to meet you.”

  “My lady, the pleasure is mine.” Camden bowed.

  She proceeded to inquire about his practice, her eyes trained on the good doctor. Intermittently, she asked about the scope of his work, if he had any assistants, and the special needs of the community.
Her genuine curiosity kept the doctor fully engaged.

  Alex gave his undivided attention to the conversation as the doctor explained that he had taken over the practice from the previous physician, who had retired last month. Camden, who had trained at the University of Edinburgh, was tall and about Alex’s age.

  The good doctor had an easy countenance and tawny-colored hair. His manners were kind, and he focused keenly on Claire. In Alex’s opinion, he was a true asset, and they were lucky he had wanted to settle near Pemhill.

  “If there is anything the marquess and I can do to help your practice, please don’t hesitate to ask. The community is a top priority for Lord Pembrooke.” Claire’s attention turned to Alex, and he was immediately lost in the serene green of her eyes. “My husband is very generous and committed to bettering the lives of his tenants and the others that are a part of Pemhill.”

  Their proximity and her praise drew Alex’s attention to her lips. The need to interrupt the doctor’s conversation and kiss her in front of the entire village became his only interest. She was pure sweetness and light. The faint blush on her cheeks and the slight flutter of her pulse mesmerized him.

  They had to return to Pemhill or he’d likely do something he’d regret, like swing her into his arms and find some private place where he could ravish her lips with a proper kiss. Alex shook his head to clear the fantasy. They still hadn’t met everyone.

  “Dr. Camden, it is a pleasure to see you again. My wife and I don’t want to take up any more of your time. Thank you.”

  Claire looked at Alex and said her farewell. Once out of hearing, she pursed her lips, then relaxed them into a smirk that announced she knew his game. “We weren’t finished.”

  “Darling, I didn’t want us to monopolize his time. I’m certain he has calls to make.”

  Claire grew pensive for a moment. With a quick recovery, she delivered a smile he could get lost in. “I never thought to keep him from his patients. You were right to take us away.”

  His relief was immediate at her swift acquiescence. With any luck, they could have a short meeting with the rector, then proceed to the tavern for a bite. His goal was to hurry home. He had lost his appetite when Claire announced she’d invited the young doctor to Pemhill so they could continue their discussion. How in bloody hell had he missed that part of their conversation? Proof he was completely disarmed when she appeared confident and happy in her role as his wife.

  God in heaven, what was the matter with him?

  Finally, after meeting the rest of the village proprietors and the rector, and securing various toys, candies, and ribbons for the tenants’ children from the last shop, they sat down at the tavern for a meal and a glass of ale. The increase in business had everything to do with his wife, as the entire village had decided to join them. He heard “the duke’s daughter” in several conversations.

  His wife was a success.

  Claire was in rare form. She welcomed and engaged every villager who crossed her path. After last night, he wasn’t at all certain how she would respond to his interests today. There had been nothing to worry about. Alex was proud to introduce her as his wife and pleased with their reception. They’d accomplished today’s agenda, and he was eager to leave. He wanted her attention devoted solely to him.

  He’d earned it.

  * * *

  The next two days went by in a blur. Claire and Alex made the rounds to their tenants, presenting the celebratory baskets. Mrs. Malone and Cook had added fruited breads, fresh-baked cakes, and apples from Pemhill’s pantry to the supplies purchased in town until each basket overflowed. Every tenant matched the gifts with their expressed joy and warm thanks. To Claire, their congratulations were the best wedding presents of all.

  The last stop was the Stoddards’ home, where two young children rushed out of the cottage to pet the horses. Claire had made a special addition to their basket—peppermints, gingerbread, ribbons, and knucklebones.

  Alex’s strong hands circled her waist, and he lifted her down as if she weighed nothing. He clasped her hand with a gentle squeeze.

  Mrs. Stoddard greeted them before they reached the door. She held a baby, a girl named Mary. “Welcome, my lord and my lady. Adam will be in shortly. I sent our Robbie to fetch him from the field. Please come in.”

  When Claire entered the homey cottage, the sweet smell of baking bread made her mouth water. It was a relief to escape the sunshine and the heat from the day. She’d noticed the wind coming from the west and a scattering of clouds during her morning ride with Alex. None of it had provided a respite from the heat.

  “How are you and Miss Mary this morning?” Claire rubbed the back of her finger across the baby’s red cheeks, hot with fever.

  “She’s still not her usual self. I’d like to call on Dr. Camden, but we need to wait until I sell some goods at market this week. She doesn’t seem to be getting any worse,” Mrs. Stoddard answered with worry in her eyes.

  Claire cooed to the baby. “May I hold her?”

  Alex came to her side after Mrs. Stoddard went to the other room for tea. “You look quite fetching with the little one in your arms.” He brushed his own finger against the baby’s hot cheek. “Perhaps we need one of our own?”

  Claire’s cheeks heated. “Hush.” She continued to keep her voice low so the others wouldn’t hear. “I met Mrs. Stoddard last week at the house, and the littlest was sick then. She’s such a tiny thing. I’d like to ask Dr. Camden to examine her. What if it’s worse than a simple fever?”

  Alex smiled at the baby in her arms. “Consider it done. I’ll send for him as soon as we return to Pemhill.”

  “This means so much … to me.” Claire’s heart skipped a beat at his tenderness and concern for the tenants and their families. At the idea of having a baby with Alex, the familiar quiver of longing began to take hold. He had no idea how much she wanted their own baby in her arms.

  After saying good-bye to the Stoddards, they started for Pemhill. At the end of the day, the sun was barely visible as the clouds had thickened in the sky.

  Claire’s skin glistened with sweat, while Alex appeared immune to the sweltering heat. Without a hair out of place or a wrinkle in his clothing, he drove the empty wagon looking as if he could step into a drawing room ready for an evening of entertainment with the local gentry. When she attempted to take her spencer off, the sleeves entangled her arms.

  Alex laughed at her antics and stopped the team with a one-word command. “Perhaps I could offer some assistance?” He slowly peeled the tight jacket from her, revealing her white gown underneath. He leaned over and kissed her full on the lips. “Your efforts with the farmers and their families made quite an impression.”

  Claire sighed and placed her neatly folded spencer on her lap. “I enjoyed the last two days more than you can imagine. All of your tenants are hardworking people, and the changes you’ve implemented have helped them become more productive. It’s no wonder your estate is profitable.”

  The compliment seemed to have pleased him. He leaned close and asked, “What scent are you wearing? What is that, bergamot mixed with something else?”

  Claire cheeks grew warmer. “Actually, it’s orange and sandalwood. My father’s favorite. A perfumer in London makes it exactly as he did for my father. He only makes it for me.”

  Alex pushed a stray strand of her hair behind her ear and his fingers lingered, stroking her neck.

  Claire worried about revealing this tidbit but prattled on. “Hopefully, it doesn’t offend your sense of smell. McCalpin and William always accused me of smelling like a man.” She offered a thin laugh to hide her embarrassment.

  A subtle look of amusement flickered in his eyes. “I find your scent to be a part of you, and you, my sweet wife, are very enticing.” Alex lowered his head to hers and kissed her again quickly. “Let’s go home.”

  His smile promised good things to come in her future.

  * * *

  Claire soaked in the warm bath and listened
to the wind whistle through the window. She enjoyed everything Pemhill offered. The past couple of days had showcased a variety of colorful people who offered her companionship and a sense of community. From Mrs. Stoddard and little Mary to the gruff Mr. Higgenbottom, the tenants and village represented people linked to her past, to Wrenwood and now Pemhill. Rationally, she needed to guard her heart in case of disappointment, but the words “kinship” and “belonging” pervaded her thoughts.

  She dressed for dinner and walked to the window. Clouds gathered in the distance. With the air heavy with moisture, unease made her skin prickle. A heavy cloak of dread held her chained to the window as she waited for the storm. The hairs on her arm lifted, and every one of her senses went on alert. She vowed not to succumb to the fear as she made her way downstairs.

  Alex had asked her to join him in his study before dinner. Handsome dark wood paneling surrounded the walls. Where the paneling ended, a navy silk wall covering extended to the ceiling. The entire room was a reflection of Alex’s taste, and Claire couldn’t help admiring it every time she entered.

  At the other end of the room, books lined several shelves. She pulled out one of the leather-bound tomes and began to examine the selection, a book of poems by Robert Burns.

  The door opened, and Claire looked up. The last remnants of Alex’s conversation with the steward entered before he did.

  Straightaway, he went to his desk. “If you’re looking for something naughty, you won’t find it there.” Without looking at her, he opened a drawer. “I keep mostly books on soil cultivation, livestock husbandry, and other titillating subjects on that shelf.”

  “Really? I found this book of poems here. Was it not shelved correctly, or are you not familiar with your own study?” she teased.

  “Madam, I know where everything is within my domain. Always.” He nodded his head at the book in her hands. “It belongs on that shelf because the majority of his poems reflect the nobility of agriculture.”