Aubree grew silent, but she could not sleep. She sensed he, too, lay awake well into the small hours of the morning. She did not disturb his thoughts, however, and eventually, they both fell into a restless slumber.
Rain pattered against the open casement, scenting the morning air with the damp earth and May flowers. Aubree tossed in her sleep, sliding closer to the source of heat between the covers. She warmed her backside against Austin’s hip and his lips curled in amusement as he considered turning to warm all of her against him. His loins leapt at just the thought, and had he not worn breeches, he would have had difficulty extricating himself from this position without embarrassment.
As it was, he chose caution over temptation, and tugging the covers around his wife’s sleeping form, he slid from the bed to close the window.
Hearing a stealthy movement beyond the heavy draperies of her bed, Aubree stretched, trying to orient herself. Something seemed lacking, though she could not put a name to it as she drew the sheets up under her chin. The brush of the covers against her nearly bare breasts enhanced the feeling of emptiness, but now she remembered her place, and her eyes opened in shock.
Austin chose that moment to lift one of the draperies and lean in. Aubree nearly shrieked with alarm at the sight of his bared torso. When one muscular arm reached for the covers, she rolled to the far side of the bed.
Blue eyes regarded her with amusement from beneath a shock of tangled curls, but instead of reaching for her, he only rubbed his forefinger along the bottom sheet, leaving a smear of blood.
At her wide-eyed stare, he shrugged. “There is some bloodshed that cannot be avoided, my lady, particularly if we wish to convince your father we are well and truly wed.”
Continuing to hold the sheet against her breasts, Aubree stared at him. “You mean. . . what happens between man and wife. . .” She shuddered. “Is it painful?”
“Only the first time.” Then, seeing she looked toward his finger, Austin grinned. “This? Not to notice.”
He tied back the other curtain, allowing light to flood in and illumine the tender morsel between the sheets. Disheveled golden curls fell deliciously over the ivory of her shoulders, and Austin wanted a reward for his good behavior.
“‘Tis time to begin your lessons, my love,” he announced, standing with hands on hips, half-naked, and grinning down at her. “It would be best if we appeared at breakfast together, and I am mortally starved. So let us rise and begin the day.”
Aubree watched him with suspicion. “When you are gone and not a moment sooner.”
“The moon is blue, Countess, and I wish to see you out of that bed before I leave.”
Scowling at his words from the night before, Aubree swept the covers around her and dangled her toes over the side of the bed farthest from him. “I’ve always hated indigo,” she stated crossly. “And I cannot see what I have to gain by agreeing with you.”
“Your privacy, my dear.” Austin eyed the straight line of her slender back with admiration. “Until your father is convinced that we are lovers and that I have you under control, he will not allow us out of his sight. The number of nights we spend in this bed together is directly related to the amount of loving obedience you show each day. Now come around here and practice a little before I go.”
Aubree threw him a disgruntled look over her shoulder. He waited for her compliance, and she sighed, flinging a corner of the sheet over her shoulder as she slipped to the floor, wrapping the linen around her.
“This is complete fustian,” she complained. “I have seen men ignore their wives for weeks on end and no one suspects that they are any less than married. The only obedient wife I can recall offhand is the vicar’s wife. Surely you cannot expect me to behave like the vicar’s wife?”
She came around the bed trailing the sheet, jade eyes regarding him warily. “I am up. Are you satisfied?”
“You are not supposed to glower at me like that. Lovers are supposed to look at each other with passion,” he stated critically.
Aubree bestowed a venomous glare on him. “How am I supposed to know aught of passion? You and my father have successfully stood in the way of my ever finding out.”
“Then, by all means, let me show you what you are missing.”
Without warning, he grasped her shoulders and pulled her toward him, sweeping the sheet to the floor as he slid his hands over bare back. Before Aubree could protest, he closed his mouth over hers.
Aubree shuddered and raised her hands to hold him off. He pressed her closer, and her palms flattened over his chest. He wanted to devour this delicacy he’d so surprisingly been handed, but respecting her innocence, he plied her lips with gentleness.
The shyness of her response warmed Austin’s blood, and he cradled her against him, pressing for that passion he had found once before in her kiss. Her hands prevented him from feeling the full curve of her breast, but he would be satisfied this first time with simply rousing her passions.
Aubree fell against him, clinging helplessly as he claimed her for his own. Reluctantly, knowing how far to test his control, Austin released her lips, spreading his kisses upward to her cheek and temple, giving her time to grow accustomed to his hold.
Still shaking, Aubree rested against his chest. Placing his finger beneath her chin, Austin tilted her head upward to meet his gaze.
“That is something of what passion is about, halfling. Keep that look in your eyes, and all will know we are lovers.”
He kissed each lid gently, then set her from him. Then, grinning broadly, he strode from the room, leaving Aubree to stare after him.
Chapter 11
Plagued by a spate of messages from London, the duke threw them back on the table. Down the hall, he heard his guests welcoming the bridal pair. Stopping in the door to the small parlor, he watched with suspicion as Aubree clung, giggling, to the arm of her gallant husband on their way to the breakfast table. Austin’s wide smile told the duke nothing.
Garbed in their traveling clothes, Aubree’s friends from Hampshire gathered, and his daughter flung her arms around Lexa while Austin genially shook Everett’s hand. From the looks and laughter between the two couples and the pretty blush of color on Lexa’s plain cheeks, the duke surmised another romance was in the making. But those simple children had not the experience at deception possessed by the earl and his new countess.
The duke strolled into the corridor just as Lady Clara joined them. Aubree hugged her aunt while Austin dutifully greeted him.
Releasing her aunt, Aubree smiled and took Austin’s arm as if he would protect her from all harm. The duke frowned at this indication of her preference, but after all, this was what he had intended.
“Good morning, Father. Have you eaten? Will you join us?”
“I ate hours ago. The news from London gives me indigestion. I will have to return today.”
Heathmont frowned. “I trust it isn’t bad news?”
The duke shook his head. “The news from Spain is all good. Wellington progresses nicely. No, the Prince Regent has decided to make a royal fool of himself as usual, and I am persuaded to return and plague him out of it. I have sent maids to pack your trunks. We will be returning sooner than anticipated.”
His daughter could not hide the hope in her eyes. “Surely you do not intend Heath and I to return with you? Many of the guests came expecting to stay some weeks. Someone must remain to entertain them.”
“Emery and Peggy are here, so is John, for all the entertaining he does. No, the two of you will come with me. There are matters pertaining to the dowry that have not been settled yet. You have not had time to purchase a trousseau. I am certain your husband will have no objection to seeing you garbed as befits his wife.” The duke sent a wry look to the expressionless earl.
“Of course, your grace. I am at your disposal,” Heath replied dryly.
Aubree watched in disappointment as her father walked off. “You are right. He does not mean to let us out of his sight. That’s not fai
r.”
“I will not argue with it so long as he is making efforts to keep his word.”
Aubree looked at him askance, but she could discern nothing in her husband’s expressionless demeanor. He had learned to hide his thoughts too well. Remembering what he had done to her with his kiss, she looked away in embarrassment. He had evidently only plied his more-than-expert skills to teach her a lesson, as he had said. The kiss meant nothing to him, or he would not be regarding their future with such dispassion. The idea of spending nights untold in this man’s bed frightened her more than she would admit.
Holding her head high, trying not to remember how her husband’s unclothed arm had felt against her not an hour before, Aubree proceeded into the dining room.
In London, a trio of gloomy faces contemplated their coffee with disgruntlement. Only the blond giant offered any hope to the mournful gathering.
“She didn’t appear too eager for rescue, seems to me,” he offered. It was little-enough excuse for his failure, but he felt comfortable with it. If the lady hadn’t interfered, he would certainly have accomplished his goal.
“Bahh, what do you know of women? They never know what’s good for ’em. She’ll be regretting your failure by now, I reckon.”
Geoffrey threw his older cousin a bleak look at this reminder of how Lady Aubree had spent the night. “Well, it is too late to help her now. He will be carrying her back to the abbey, I suppose. Rutting bounder,” he added, his dreams of grandeur crumbling.
The blond giant rose from the table. “Heard a lot of tales about Heathmont, but he seemed a decent sort. Looks to me like he’s shackled a wildcat. Never saw a lady holding a shotgun. Better off without her, Geoff.” With that parting remark, he ambled off, satisfied his mission had come to its best end.
The older man followed his departure with a look of scorn. “Fair enough for him to say. He never lacked for blunt. Your gentlemen ain’t got the backbone, Geoff.” He hid his scorn as he turned back to his younger cousin. “It may be best this way. She’ll come more willingly to heel after a few months at Atwood Abbey.”
Geoffrey sent his country cousin a despairing look. “But she’s married, Harry. It’s too late for me now.”
A smug look settled on Harry’s heavy jowls. “As I hear it, she ain’t coming into her money for some time yet. Knowing his noble lordship, he’ll be taking her dowry and slipping off on that smuggling sloop of his before long. The bride will need a bit of consoling in his absence. I think a lengthy visit with me will cheer your spirits, cousin, and if the earl should meet an untimely end in his endeavors, well, you’ll be there to console the grieving widow. Much better this way, I daresay. Dallying after married women is much more profitable than virgins, if you catch my meaning.”
Geoffrey’s expression reflected both doubt and hope. Polite courting bored him, but the possibility that he might gain more than a kiss for his efforts cheered him considerably. He dismissed his cousin’s hints at Heathmont’s demise. A man like that deserved to die but seldom did. Still, if there were any way he could gain a wealthy widow. . . The role of offering consolation suited him well.
Aubree stared bleakly out the carriage window as it rolled toward London. With Emery and Peggy staying at Ashbrook and Aunt Clara returning to Hampshire, she would be cast adrift in London alone. More and more it seemed like her father and husband were two of a kind. Petting the spaniel sprawled across her lap, she watched as these two men rode side by side, arguing vociferously. Neither one of them cast a glance in her direction.
So much for romantic daydreams. She began to have some understanding of why women sought wealth and titles instead of love. Love didn’t exist in the real world. It was a myth perpetuated by writers to feed the fancies of their readers and their own pockets.
Lady’s soulful brown eyes stared up at her sorrowfully. When Aubree finally turned her attention to the dog, her long golden tail thumped eagerly. Aubree’s smile brightened. Human affection might be fickle, but she was not without friends.
They reached Ashbrook House by midafternoon. While Aubree saw to the unpacking of trunks and pets, the two men disappeared into the city on business of their own.
She spent a lonely evening conversing with the kittens. There had been invitations she could have accepted, but it did not seem proper to go without her husband, or at least, his permission. Instead, she found a book and retired to her chambers—where Heath’s trunk rested at the foot of her bed.
She flung her book at the invader. She had ordered his things carried to the gentleman’s wing, but evidently her wishes had been countermanded.
She studied the room that had been hers alone these past months, until her gaze fell upon the chaise longue. Her lips curved up, and by the time Mattie came to help her undress, she was singing to herself as she unbound her hair.
Mattie clucked in protest as she chose a high-necked gown of heavy lawn for her bed attire, but the maid knew better than to argue. Instead, she pulled the girlish gown over Aubree’s unbound curls with silent disapproval, then gazed in contempt at the result.
Aubree admired the way the stiff material fell straight to the ground without any hint of the curves beneath and laughed at Mattie’s frowning expression.
“You don’t think his lordship will approve?” she asked teasingly.
“You look no more’n a babe straight from the nursery. His lordship will think he’s robbed a cradle and go lookin’ elsewhere for his comfort. You ought to be ashamed of yourself, miss.”
Aubree listened to this prejudiced speech from her loyal maid with curiosity. “You are on his side, Mattie? Do you not fear he will beat me as they say he did his first wife?”
“That’s just gossip, my lady, and I know better than to put faith in gossip. He’s a gentleman, your lordship is. He’s even asked me personally, himself, if I be willing to come with you and stay in his household. He even asked should I have anyone to recommend for other positions, since his is a bachelor household and not much attended to. He wants you to have people you know about you.”
That information did not startle Aubree, since she suspected Atwood Abbey suffered from a dearth of good help. The fact that the earl employed only one man to act as valet and groom spoke volumes, even had she not known of the deplorable state of his finances.
“Well, Mattie, and have you volunteered to follow me into exile? Or must I meet my fate alone?”
Mattie’s round face puffed up with indignation. “And did you think I would leave you to the hands of some poor wench with no skills at all? Why, who would know better than me how to fix them stubborn curls of yours? And I’ve sent to ask if me niece and nephew will come out. They be willing workers and will look after you as if you were their own.”
Remembering the pair to whom Mattie referred, Aubree smiled. She would not be completely alone in a strange place, and the mischievous twins would happily comply to all her requests. This had the makings of a merry jaunt, if she could only escape her father’s scrutiny and Heathmont’s proximity.
Dismissing Mattie, Aubree assembled sheets and covers and wove a cocoon of comfort upon the chaise. Since he had said he was unaccustomed to sharing a bed, surely Heath would not object to this arrangement. Come morning, they could hide the sheets and no one would be the wiser. It made the notion of sharing this room for an extended period more palatable.
Entering the chamber well after his wife had fallen asleep, Heath gazed upon their new sleeping arrangements with distaste. Removing temptation from his grasp would make sleeping easier, if not at all as satisfying. How they would survive these next six months was open to conjecture.
Chapter 12
With the excuse of pressing political matters preventing him from completing the final documents of their agreement, the Duke of Ashbrook succeeded in keeping the newlyweds in London for several days.
Heath itched impatiently for a return to his home so he might set the wheels of fortune in motion, but the duke had tied his hands. Instead, h
e passed the days escorting Aubree about town, purchasing a trousseau she did not want, and he did not expect to see.
Invitations arrived from those who craved recognition, but Aubree’s name had been dropped from the guest lists of the haut ton, where Heath’s had been banned long ago. Out of a sense of duty, the earl offered to escort his wife to those events of her choice, but after enduring an evening of whispers and innuendos and outright stares, Aubree showed a disinclination to accept any others.
Instead, she rebelled against any further civilities at all.
“I wish to see the lions and Vauxhall and go to the theater,” she declared when Austin suggested she might accept an invitation to tea at Lady Driby’s. “This may be my only chance to see London, and I wish to see something besides over-decorated drawing rooms. If you will not take me, then I shall go myself.”
She did not need to stomp her foot or pout to make her meaning clear. The flash of green in her eyes warned of a storm ahead. Not having any desire to parade himself as an ogre for the delight of Lady Driby’s guests, Heath readily agreed to her choice of plans.
Actually, the earl’s dry sarcasm and wry wit prevented Aubree from severe disappointment in the day of sightseeing. The sight of those poor, caged animals nearly ruined her day at the outset. Heath’s comparison of the various beasts to mutual acquaintances forced a giggle from her. When he carried the parallel further to visualize Geoffrey as a noisy peacock and Emery as a silent owl, she could not take offense but retaliated by calling him a black swan.
Taken aback by this description, the earl sent her a quizzical glance. “And how might I rate such a comparison?”
Aubree smiled sweetly. “They are said to be both beautiful and vicious, my lord. Or would you prefer to be a strutting gander?”
Austin eyed her with grave displeasure. “Then you should have to be a foolish goose. Take care, my lady, or you will be served up in sauce one day.”
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