Love and Marriage

by Alexandra Ivy

  The unfair accusation stirred Adam’s rare temper. “I see. You would not then be adverse to having me devote my life to cards and mistresses while our neighbors twitter behind your back?” he requested coldly.

  A faint hint of color touched her cheeks. “Do you think they do not twitter at the knowledge you prefer to ignore your bride in favor of your musty books and the War Department?”

  Adam was taken aback by her fierce words. “Addy ...”

  He did not know precisely what he intended to say and actually it did not matter as Humbly chose that moment to return to the room with his bright smile.

  “Here were are. I hope I have not kept dinner waiting?”

  “Not at all.” Moving toward the Vicar, Addy linked her arm through his. “Shall we go through?”

  Together they left the room, leaving Adam to follow behind.

  Glancing up at the lovely fresco painted on the ceiling, Adam grimly restored his composure. He would not be goaded into fleeing to the peace of his club. Addy had won that game on too many occasions.

  * * *

  Although Addy had never truly felt herself a wife, she did take a quiet pride in running the household with a smooth efficiency.

  Unlike her own mother who hired and fired staff on a whim, usually depending upon her need for models in her paintings, Addy had servants who had worked for the Drake family for years. It was more than a little intimidating when she had first arrived. What did a green country girl know of running a London establishment? But with the knowledge that the rather arrogant staff would be swift to take advantage of any scent of uncertainty, she had forced herself to take firm command.

  In time she had gained obedience and at last respect from the servants. Even from the temperamental cook who notoriously disliked interference in her sacred domain.

  Now as she watched Mr. Humbly sit back and pat his considerable stomach she felt a measure of satisfaction. She need have no fear her household would fail to provide every comfort to even an unexpected guest.

  “Delicious,” the Vicar said with a heartfelt sigh. “Truly the duck was a masterpiece.”

  “I shall convey your appreciation to Cook,” Addy retorted, rising smoothly to her feet. “If you will excuse me I will leave you to your port.”

  Without warning Adam rose to his feet with a shake of his head. “Nonsense. We shall join you in the salon if Humbly does not mind?”

  “Not at all,” Humbly denied. “I never much cared for port.”

  “I recall that you do possess a fondness for brandy,” Adam said with a smile.

  “Ah well, we must all have our small sins,” Humbly confessed as he struggled to his feet.

  “Yes.” Adam’s lips twisted as he politely moved to offer Addy his arm.

  With no choice Addy lightly placed her hand upon his forearm. Although they had been wed for months she had never entirely become accustomed to having his large male form near. Not even when he sought her bed in the shadows of the night. That no doubt accounted for the manner in which she instinctively stiffened as the heat and spicy scent wrapped about her. She felt almost smothered by the sheer force of his presence.

  They traveled the short distance in silence, then, leaving Addy beside the fire, Adam moved to pour two generous dashes of brandy for himself and their guest.

  Accepting his glass Humbly glanced about the room with an expression of contentment.

  “What a lovely home this is,” he said in satisfaction. “I can not say that I care for the new fashion of lacquer and heavy oriental draperies. Nothing quite so comforting as solid English furnishings, do you not think, my dear?”

  Addy forced a smile. She could hardly confess that she had never dared to suggest the house be altered in any way.

  “Oh yes, it is very comforting.”

  “And such a pleasant location,” the Vicar continued. “With a park just around the corner, one would not miss the country quite so much.”

  “Perhaps we shall take a stroll there tomorrow,” Addy suggested.

  “A lovely notion.”

  “I thought you were to meet with the Bishop?” Adam abruptly intruded into the conversation, his tone oddly sharp.

  Humbly waved a dismissive hand. “Plenty of time for such business. I far prefer strolling through the park with a beautiful maiden than debating theology with the Bishop in his stuffy office.”

  The lean countenance seemed to darken. “Of course.”

  “Perhaps you would care to join us, Adam?” the Vicar generously offered.

  “I fear that I have scheduled several meetings for tomorrow.”

  A ridiculous pang of disappointment flared through Addy. Ridiculous, because she had known when she had wed Adam that she was no more than a necessary duty to him.

  “You will discover, Mr. Humbly, that my husband is a great believer in scheduling meetings,” she retorted with a hint of tartness.

  Adam thinned his lips at the deliberate barb. “I merely prefer an orderly existence. Unlike most of the ton I have no desire to lay indolently in bed through the greater part of the day only to rise and dash about town in search of the latest gossip or flirtation.”

  “Oh, yes. Such foolishness,” Mr. Humbly murmured.

  Addy met the gray gaze without flinching. “They seem to enjoy their frivolous pursuits.”

  “Because they have nothing more substantial to fill their time. It is a pity more do not use their intellect upon occasion.”

  “There is nothing wrong with enjoying oneself upon occasion,” she perversely argued. “Life can be very dreary without some excitement.”

  He regarded her for a long moment then he gave a slow, rather weary nod of his head.

  “No doubt you are correct, my dear. If you will excuse me I believe I will retire. It has been a rather trying day.”

  With a correct bow Adam moved across the room and disappeared through the doorway.

  Addy discovered herself biting her lower lip, suddenly wishing that she had kept her hasty words to herself. Just for a moment she thought that she might have glimpsed something that was very close to pain in Adam’s smoky eyes.

  Disconcerted, she stared at the empty doorway, wondering if it was at all possible that her husband did indeed possess more than a schedule book where his heart should be. Then, realizing that Humbly was regarding her with a watchful gaze she hurried to fill the tense silence.

  “Adam possesses a dislike for frivolity, I fear,” she said in what she hoped was light tones.

  Humbly’s expression became somber. “It is not really surprising. His father was a very stern gentleman who demanded perfection from his only son. Adam was expected to assume responsibility from his earliest childhood. A pity, really. He has been given little joy in his life.”

  Addy gave a restless shrug, not wishing to acknowledge the pang within her heart.

  “His father died years ago.”

  “Yes, but he is still attempting to please him, even if he does not realize it,” the Vicar said softly. “It is odd, but sons never quite rid themselves of the need to seek their father’s approval. Especially when it has been withheld. Now, I believe I shall also seek my bed. I am unaccustomed to travel and I fear that my old bones are beginning to protest.”

  “Of course.” Addy gave a vague smile. “I shall have breakfast sent to your room.”

  “Thank you, my dear. Sleep well.”

  With a nod the Vicar ambled from the room, leaving behind a disturbed Addy.

  He has been given little joy in his life.

  The words echoed painfully through her mind.

  Absurd, of course.

  Adam had never sought joy from her.

  He had requested she be a proper, undemanding wife.

  She had done her best to be that wife. Even at the sacrifice of her own happiness.

  She had no reason to feel that renegade prick of guilt.

  No reason at all.

  Chapter Three

  Vicar Humbly was frankly mis
erable.

  Although the vast townhouse in the fashionable neighborhood of Mayfair was no doubt lovely with its crimson and gold decor and heavily gilded trim, at the moment it was unbearably crowded with a crush of elegant guests.

  Mopping his head with a large handkerchief, Humbly briefly longed for the quiet peace of his Vicarage. At such a late hour he would be cozily ensconced in his chair beside a lovely fire. No doubt he would be reading from his well-worn Bible while sipping a little of the brandy he kept cleverly hidden from Mrs. Stalwart’s sharp eyes.

  Precisely the manner in which he preferred to spend his evenings.

  Instead he was being rudely jostled and occasionally elbowed as the guests surged about in an effort to find their friends or merely the best position in the room to show off their finery.

  The Vicar sighed.

  There would no doubt be several more such evenings to be endured before he accomplished his goal, he predicted ruefully.

  Adam and Addy were in even more danger than he had feared.

  Adam was too proud to admit that he had been wrong to try to change his wife into an image of his own making. And too unyielding to realize that it was precisely Addy’s warm vivacity that he needed in his life.

  And poor Addy was too resentful at being forced into a marriage with a man she thought cold and indifferent to realize the dependable worth of her husband.

  Neither seemed willing to be first in offering the hand of peace.

  Putting aside the futile desire to be home in Surrey, Humbly glanced at the gentleman at his side.

  He sighed again at the cold, disapproving expression upon Adam’s handsome countenance.

  If the Vicar had hoped that time spent among the glittering gaiety of others would ease the tension between the two, he was doomed to disappointment.

  Rather than enjoying the festivities together, Adam had stoically remained in the shadows while Addy had allowed herself to be swept away by a series of charming rogues.

  It was all enough to make even the most kindly tempered vicar mutter a curse beneath his breath.

  “Gracious, it is very warm, is it not?” he at last shouted above the din, hoping to ease the tension he could feel radiating from Adam’s large form.

  “Smothering,” the younger man agreed.

  “Do you think they will open a door or two?”

  “Not likely.” Adam shot him a wry glance. “A hostess can not consider her party a success without at least one maiden fainting in the crush.”

  Humbly wiped the moisture from his forehead. “An unpleasant notion.”

  “Yes.” Adam’s gaze shifted as a new wave of guests pressed through the doorway. “Humbly, I should move back if I were you.”

  “What?” Humbly leaned forward in an effort to hear his companion’s low warning then he gave a sharp howl as a large matron with a hideous yellow gown stomped directly upon his foot. “Ye-ow.”

  Adam’s lips twitched. “One of the numerous dangers of society,” he drawled. “Never be in the path of a Marriage Minded Mama.”

  Humbly wiggled his toes, thankful to discover none were actually broken. “There are more dangers?”

  Adam shrugged. “Well, to begin with you must never linger near a gentleman in his cups because he will invariably spill whatever he is drinking upon your coat. And if you must dance, take care to avoid the candle grease, which can create a challenge to the most graceful sportsman. Oh, and beware of Lady Stopel, who is a consummate pickpocket.”

  Humbly gave a choked sound of disbelief, quite certain he had misheard.

  “A pickpocket?”

  “Yes.”

  “You must be jesting?”

  “Not at all,” Adam insisted. “She is quite talented and generally manages to lift a half a dozen purses during the course of an evening. Her niece, however, is quite dependable in returning the stolen items the next morning.”

  Humbly gave a click of his tongue. Oppressive heat. An aching head. Near broken toes. And now fear for his meager purse.

  “I begin to comprehend why you avoid such evenings,” he mourned.

  “I will admit that I far prefer a quiet evening at my club.”

  Humbly abruptly bit his tongue. Fool. He was suppose to be encouraging Adam to indulge his bride’s love for frivolous enjoyment, not encouraging him to disappear to his club.

  “At least Addy appears to be enjoying herself,” he said brightly.

  Adam abruptly shifted his gaze to his bride, who was currently chatting with a tall, bronze-haired gentleman.

  “Yes.”

  Humbly felt a flicker of recognition at the sight of the gentleman’s overly handsome features and lavish elegance.

  “Who is that gentleman she is speaking with?”

  “Lord Barclay,” Adam retorted in clipped tones.

  “He seems oddly familiar.”

  “He visited the Morrows last year.” Adam’s expression became even more grim as the handsome gentleman leaned close to Addy to whisper in her ear. “He is a notorious rake and fribble. I shall have to speak with Addy. I do not desire her to encourage such a connection.”

  Humbly’s heart sank. Dear heavens, how could such an intelligent man be so completely lacking in sense when it came to his wife?

  “I do not think a harmless encounter at a crowded ball is encouraging a connection,” he protested.

  Unswayed, Adam thinned his lips to a dangerous line. “Addy is very innocent and not accustomed to the nasty games that such men enjoy playing. She might very well plunge into disaster without realizing the danger.”

  Humbly thought it was far more likely this annoyingly stubborn gentleman at his side was about to blunder into disaster.

  Could he not realize that he had done enough damage with his absurd lectures?

  “Addy has always been very intelligent,” he said sternly. “I do not believe she will seek out scandal.”

  “And what of excitement?” Adam demanded, a hint of bitterness entering his tone. “Surely you have realized that my wife is bored and restless in her marriage?”

  “It is a very different life from what she was accustomed to.”

  “A fact that I absurdly presumed would please her.”

  Humbly abruptly stilled. He too had hoped that Addy would appreciate the solid security of her new life with Adam. He knew, after all, that she had not always approved of her parents’ outlandish habits. There had even been times when he had discovered her crying over one of their more scandalous exploits.

  But instead, she had come to feel trapped and smothered in her relationship with her husband. And, of course, resentful at being forced into marriage in the first place. She seemed to have forgotten the pain and uncertainty that could be caused by those who lived lives of frivolous indifference.

  Perhaps it was time she be reminded that it was not utterly horrid to possess a husband who was dependable.

  Humbly summoned the sweet smile that so effectively hid his devious intent.

  “A young woman’s or even a young man’s fancy is rarely taken by what is best for her or him,” he said with a lift of his hands. “Surely you have at one time or another been drawn to glitter rather than worth?”

  He gave a restless shrug, no doubt recalling the lures of a pretty actress or a night devoted to cards and drink.

  “Perhaps. But I have long since outgrown such nonsense.”

  “As will Addy.”

  The gray eyes abruptly narrowed. “Are you saying that I must be patient?”

  “Yes, patience is always a most admirable trait,” Humbly agreed slowly. “Of course, there is also something to be said for carpe diem.”

  “Seize the day?”

  The Vicar gave a self-conscious cough. “It is just a fanciful thought, but perhaps Addy would be more content in her marriage if she were to discover that shallow impulsiveness is a poor substitute for true dependability.”

  Adam blinked in confusion. “What?”

  Knowing he dare not press t
oo far too quickly, he gave a vague shake of his head. “Nothing, nothing. As I said, I am a foolish old man, prone to fancies.” His eyes widened as he glanced across the room at the bizarrely attired matron with something ominously hairy perched upon her shoulder. “Dear heavens, is that a monkey?”

  * * *

  Addy was thoroughly enjoying her evening.

  It had been so very long since she had been among society. To dance, to laugh, to have handsome gentlemen flutter about her soothed a pride that had been battered by Adam’s constant disapproval.

  For the first time in ages she felt able to loosen her constraints and truly enjoy herself. Tomorrow, she defiantly decided, would take care of itself. For this one evening she would soak up all the excitement she had so missed since becoming Mrs. Drake.

  With that thought in mind she regarded the handsome Lord Barclay who had efficiently maneuvered them to a shadowed corner. During his brief visit to Surrey the year before he had proven to be a charming companion. Tonight he was positively dazzling.

  As if noting the hectic glitter in her eyes, Barclay smiled down at her upturned countenance.

  “Are you warm?”

  “It is rather stuffy,” she agreed.

  “Allow me.” With an elegant motion the Lord removed the fan tied about her wrist and began to waft it before her in an effort to cool her heated cheeks.

  “Thank you.”

  “It is my deepest pleasure to be of service, my dear,” the gallant gentleman retorted. “After waiting for nearly a year to see you again I had almost given up hope.”

  Well acquainted with such banter, Addy gave a small laugh. “Fah. You never gave me a second thought after you left Surrey.”

  “That could not be further from the truth. You have haunted me since I first captured sight of you.” His gaze boldly roamed over her tidy curls and modest yellow gown. “Of course, I must say that I far preferred your previous style of bright colors and your hair loose about your shoulders. There was something very natural and free about you.”

  She gave a faint shrug. “I am a proper married lady now.”

  “Do not remind me.” He gave a dramatic shudder. “It breaks my heart to think of you tied to that pompous prig.”