Louise Allen Historical Collection

by Louise Allen

  ‘Be honest with me from now on. Tell me what you feel, what you need.’

  He watched her for a long few seconds and then shook his head. ‘No, I am sorry, my love, I cannot promise that. I can promise to try, but that is all.’

  ‘Then that will have to do,’ she said. My love. It is just an endearment. I am a fool to hope that one day you will call me your love, and mean it from the bottom of your heart. Something flickered in his eyes and was gone. ‘What is it?’

  Elliott shook his head. ‘A thought that you do not want to hear.’

  ‘Tell me.’ Bella went to him and caught his hands in hers. ‘Please.’

  ‘I want to make love to you,’ Elliott said. ‘Don’t ask me to explain why, now of all times. I know you won’t—’

  ‘Yes,’ she said, confused, but trying to understand. He needed to prove that she, at least, was his and no longer another man’s. ‘You are my husband and… Elliott!’ He scooped her up and was halfway up the stairs before she got her breath back. ‘Put me down…the servants will see…you’re drunk!’

  ‘They are paid to be blind, Arabella. And I am stone-cold sober.’ He shouldered open his bedchamber door, laid her on the bed and went back to close and lock the door.

  Bella sat up and watched as he tossed his coat and waistcoat on to a chair, unwrapped his neckcloth and began to unfasten his shirt. I have seen him naked, she told herself, forcing her fingers to unclench from the bedspread. But she had never seen him undress like this, stripping away his clothes, tossing them aside as though all that mattered was to get to her.

  ‘Your boots,’ she managed, hearing the way her voice quavered.

  ‘Don’t worry, Arabella, I’m not the sort of husband who comes to bed in his boots and spurs.’ He sat on a chair and dragged them off, pulling the stockings with them. Which left him, in broad daylight, in nothing but his breeches. He was very obviously aroused as he stood up and advanced purposefully on the bed. And so was she, with thudding heart, shortness of breath and the embarrassingly insistent intimate pulse between her legs. She ought to be alarmed, she knew. This was her husband, but in a mood she had never seen him before.

  Elliott put one knee on the bed and began to unbutton her simple afternoon gown. He bent and kissed her neck as he pushed off her gown. ‘And there is absolutely no hurry.’

  It took at least fifteen minutes to remove her petticoats, her chemise and her stays. Every tape, hook and button appeared to require a kiss or a nibble or a touch of his tongue. Bella closed her eyes and wondered if this was a branding, whether he was marking her entire body as his. She was uncertain, but she was also aching and needing and hot and restless. Her breasts were swollen and tender, the nipples hard, wanting his mouth to cover them.

  Finally all that was left were stockings and garters. Bella opened her eyes, found Elliott kneeling at her feet and closed them again as he began to untie the ribbons, peel down the stockings, his mouth following the silk to her instep. And then, to her utter shock, he took her toes in his mouth and sucked.

  ‘Elliott!’ She sat bolt upright, outraged. He looked up, his eyes challenging her to protest again and he kept right on sucking and nibbling until she flopped back, beyond any resistance or shame. Then the other stocking, the other toes, before his hands slid up to press her thighs apart and he began to torment the soft skin behind her knees.

  Bella reached for him, wanting to touch, but he evaded her easily. ‘Relax,’ he said harshly.

  ‘Relax?’ Impossible. There was too much to think about, to worry about. Then she arched off the bed like a bow with shock and delight as he pressed her thighs wider and licked right into the hot aching core of her. Thought became disjointed, feeling was everything—and she burned and throbbed and became liquid with desire. She felt him slip a finger, then another, inside her and felt only the delicious sensations, the urge to close around him, draw him deeper. But his tongue would not let her focus, concentrate, everything was blurring, dissolving and then splintering.

  There was a scream and she knew it came from her own throat. Elliott shifted his weight over her and she anchored herself to his big, strong body and held him close. Then, slowly, while her body was still rippling and quivering with delight, he slid into her, inexorable, delicious, until he filled her and she could embrace him with all of herself.

  ‘Arabella?’ She took one hand from his shoulder and used it to pull his mouth down to hers and kissed him as he started to rock gently, gently inside her. When it changed she did not know, but she was thrusting up to meet him, digging her nails into the tight buttocks to bring him closer still, desperate for him and the building, dizzying sensation that swept over her.

  She heard him groan as her body rippled around him and then he thrust hard and cried out and she felt the heat inside her as he came. And then he was lying on her, heavy and hot and male, and she tightened her arms around him and thought she would never let him go.

  Elliott was awake, she could feel the slight tension in his body as he tried not to move and wake her. Bella smiled, her cheek against his chest, and fluttered her eyelashes so they tangled with the dark springing hair.

  ‘Awake?’ he murmured and she nodded, tilting her head to look at him.

  He looks at peace with himself again, she thought. Sleek, satisfied male. My male.

  ‘It was good for you?’

  ‘Are you fishing for compliments?’ Bella asked, coming up on one elbow to study his face. ‘It was wonderful and you know it. Elliott, we must talk about the child.’

  ‘No. There is nothing more to be said.’ The warmth cooled as though a current of air had passed over their hot skin. ‘Bella, there is nothing you can do about this. I will just have to come to terms with it in my own way.’ Elliott pulled her in close to his side again. ‘You are very beautiful, you know.’

  He is avoiding it now. He only spoke of it before because he lost control of his temper. Now he is going to try and make me think he can forget. But there was no point in angering him again, not after that perfect love making. She made her voice light. ‘Liar. You told me I was not.’

  ‘I was wrong. You are graceful and charming and pretty always, but when you are on fire in my arms you are beyond beautiful, every inch of you.’

  And he has explored every inch, there cannot be anywhere his mouth and hands have not been.

  ‘I will be fat soon,’ she lamented. ‘My waist is thickening already. And look.’ She rolled on to her back and ran her hand over the curve of her belly. Oh Lord, of all the stupid things to say.

  ‘You are blooming,’ he contradicted her, pleasantly enough, but the intimacy that had briefly blossomed was gone again.

  Bella wriggled up against the pillows and pulled the crumpled bedspread around her. There seemed to be nothing to do but change the subject. ‘Tell me about the bishop.’

  ‘He was very understanding. Tutted a bit over the baby, but gave me no lectures. And he was not surprised when I told him about your father’s mental state; he had thought his letter intemperate considering your age. He will say nothing to your father’s diocese and will write back to him to say the marriage is legal and has his approval.’

  Bella let out a long breath. Thank goodness. The thought of the scandal and the embarrassment to Elliott if the bishop had not been sympathetic had been keeping her awake at night. If only her father would come round and accept this marriage. She did not hope for his forgiveness, just his indifference.

  ‘Then I did your shopping,’ Elliott continued, playing with her hair.

  ‘I asked for fabric swatches, not underwear and hats,’ she said, letting her fingertips trail down his ribs. ‘But they are very lovely. Thank you.’

  ‘My pleasure. And what have you been doing?’ There was that constraint again; he was avoiding telling her something.

  ‘Exploring, getting to know the staff and my way around. I visited the gardens. Elliott, did you know Rafe dismissed the assistant gardeners who used to help with the ornamental
work? Old Johnson says they have only been able to get labouring jobs and he has had to grass over most of the flowerbeds. Can we afford to employ them again?’

  ‘If you want.’ He was still sprawled against the pillows, looking up at her. ‘And what else did you do?’

  ‘I visited the Dower House and I went to church on Sunday—Matins. That was when Daniel arrived. He said he saw you in Worcester so he came to escort me in your stead.’ There it was again, that shuttered look. ‘Elliott, what is it you are not telling me?’

  ‘You can read me like a book, it seems. I went to the castle and I looked at the Army List. Arabella, there is no gentle way to say this—your brother-in-law, Lieutenant James Halgate, is dead, killed at Vittoria in August 1812.’

  ‘James? Oh, no.’James had been so alive, so vivid, so dashing, it was hard to believe. ‘But that is almost two years ago. Where is Meg now?’ Bella stared at him as though he could conjure the answer out of thin air.

  ‘I am sorry, I have no idea. I asked the militia commander who we should contact in London to find out about the widow’s pension, so we can do that. We will find her. And your other sister.’ Elliott pulled her to him in a hard hug. ‘I promise.’

  ‘Thank you. You are so kind to me,’ she murmured against his shoulder, grieving for James, aching for Meg.

  ‘You are my wife, Arabella,’ Elliott said. ‘Of course I will help. Your sisters are family now.’

  Not, I love you Arabella, I will do anything for you. Oh, Elliott. So kind, so supportive to his unasked-for, inconvenient, wife and the child he does not want.

  ‘I am so happy that Elliott has come back here to live,’ Anne Baynton said, as they braced themselves against the jolting of the carriage. The two women had decided upon a day in Worcester shopping while their husbands looked at woodland and then, Bella suspected, spent the rest of the time enjoying a holiday from domestic life. Goodness only knew, Elliott deserved one, she thought.

  Bella smiled back. It was good to have a friend, one that she would be able to confide in and to share the joy of her baby with. Nothing and nobody could replace Meg and Lina, but she had liked and trusted Anne from the start. ‘I thought that Elliott did not come here often since he left to go to university,’ she ventured.

  ‘He did not.’ Anne pursed her lips. ‘He and John knew each other as boys, but when Rafe inherited we only saw Elliott in London during the Season or when we visited Fosse Warren.’

  ‘You knew Rafe, of course.’

  As much as we cared to.’ Now Anne’s expression was positively disapproving. As neighbours, merely. I must confess to not liking his way of life.’

  Anne had already confided that she was with child again. Bella plucked up her courage. ‘May I tell you a secret?’

  ‘How secret?’ Anne asked, her smile reappearing.

  ‘You may tell Mr Baynton, but that is all.’

  ‘Very well, my lips are sealed, but tell me at once, I cannot wait.’ Anne leaned forwards, eyes sparkling.

  ‘I am expecting a baby.’

  ‘Wonderful!’ Anne leaned over and squeezed Bella’s hand. ‘I must confess to guessing that you were. Your figure, if you do not mind me saying so, has changed since the wedding! When is it due?’

  ‘Early December,’ Bella said. Anne froze halfway back against the squabs, her mouth forming an O as she did the calculation.

  ‘Yes, I am afraid things were anticipated more than a little,’ Bella admitted.

  ‘But it is very romantic—a clandestine love affair! And how dashing of Elliott, the sly dog!’

  ‘Oh, please do not tease him about it!’ Anne smiled and shook her head. ‘I so dread the gossip when I cannot hide it any more—which will be any moment now. My father did not approve—he thinks aristocrats are immoral—so it was all rather difficult, which is why we…which is why I ran away.

  ‘My mother died years ago, and my sisters have left home and I—Anne, I would so much value your advice. I have no idea what to expect and I want to be a perfect mother.’ She swallowed, suddenly emotional. ‘You see, I keep bursting into tears at the slightest thing. And I made Elliott alarmed and he called the doctor about something perfectly normal…’

  ‘Oh, my dear, of course you can talk to me. I was so lucky, I had Mama close by and my two older sisters both have children. But even then there was much to ask about. Now, I must have a boy and you must have a girl and then we can plan a marriage that will embarrass them enormously when we tease them about it in twenty years’ time!’

  Perhaps that was her best hope, a daughter. Surely Elliott would love a little girl and then his own son—their own son—would be the heir. But it seemed wrong to wish the child to be anything but who it already was. He or she should be loved unreservedly for themselves.

  But that nagging anxiety apart, this journey to Worcester was a far happier one than her trip with Elliott to meet the bishop, Bella mused when the pair of them sat back to draw breath after her long list of questions and worries had been discussed. She was married now, the baby’s future was at least secure, things with Elliott were as comfortable as she could hope, given that she was in love with him and he was simply being kind and doing his duty.

  In the bedroom comfortable was not quite the word, she thought, suppressing the smile that tried to escape every time she thought about their lovemaking. If it were not for the fact that she was terrified of losing control and blurting out her feelings, Bella thought that aspect of her marriage was almost perfect. Except, perhaps, that she wanted to do more, be more adventurous. Elliott appeared to like her touching him, but what if she tried to kiss him as he kissed her, intimately, and gave him a disgust of her for being wanton, just when he had begun to forget, she hoped, how badly she had behaved with Rafe?

  And she wished he would invite his friends to stay, or that they could go on visits. Or even tell her more about the estate and how she could help. When she asked he fobbed her off with concerns about her strength, her health, and she wondered if he thought she would blunder out of ignorance or try to interfere with what he saw as his business. She wanted to be busy, and of use, and sometimes she felt a little lonely.

  At three in the morning when she lay awake and her worst fears came to haunt her, she wondered if Elliott was ashamed of her. She was no beauty, whatever he told her, she had brought him no useful alliance, nor a dowry, and she had no idea yet how to go on in society. And there was the pregnancy, of course.

  But she must not be gloomy now, not with her new friend to bear her company and the prospect of an entire day shopping in front of them. ‘I have chosen the fabrics for my suite,’ she said, taking the samples from her reticule and showing Anne. ‘And I must visit the dressmaker to have some gowns altered and new ones made.’

  And we can look at things for the nursery,’ Anne suggested. ‘John asks what I can possibly want to buy, for everything I had for Prunella is wrapped up in the attic, but men never seem to understand about shopping.’

  ‘Elliott does, I think. At least, he seemed to enjoy buying clothes with me,’ Bella ventured.

  ‘All of them frivolous and most of them for the boudoir, if I can hazard a guess,’ Anne said with a grin. ‘That is characteristic of new husbands; it does not persist, or apply to everyday articles, I am afraid.’

  But even selecting new sheets for the servants’ rooms or choosing between one style of sensible walking boot and another had charm when it was done in company with a friend who had a lively sense of humour and excellent taste.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Bell a perched on a rather high stool at the counter of Messieurs Wildegrave and Harris, Linen Drapers, and decided on eight cotton towels at sixteen pence each instead of the cheaper ones at twelve pence. They would wear better. Ten shillings and eight pence, she wrote against that item on her list.

  ‘This poplin would be very suitable for the linings, Lady Hadleigh,’ the assistant said, placing a large roll on the counter before her.

  ‘Yes, I�
��’ There was a muffled exclamation beside her and Bella turned to see an elegant lady in her forties, accompanied by a pretty blonde. They were both staring at her.

  ‘Lady Hadleigh?’ the older woman said in tones of disbelief.

  ‘Why, yes.’ Bella stared back. She might not be entirely up to snuff in all matters of etiquette, but this abrupt question from a stranger was certainly not normal polite behaviour. ‘I am sorry, ma’am, but you have the advantage of me.’

  ‘Rafe Calne’s widow?’ the woman demanded. ‘I had no idea—’

  ‘No! Elliott’s Calne’s wife.’

  The younger woman gave a little gasp. ‘Elliott is married?’

  ‘Yes, he is.’ Bella was beginning to feel both embarrassed and irritated. People were looking, the sales assistant was standing there with his mouth open. ‘The announcement was sent to the newspapers.’

  ‘We have just got back from visiting Aunt Marjorie who is sick,’ the younger woman said. ‘She does not approve of newspapers—’

  ‘Frederica.’ Her mother silenced her with a gesture. ‘The engagement must have been of short duration.’

  ‘Madam, I have no idea who you are,’ Bella said, sliding off the stool where she was feeling at a decided disadvantage. ‘But—’ Her skirts pulled tight across her stomach for a moment as she got down. Both women’s eyes fixed on her midriff just as Anne came round the corner with her hands full of fine wool.

  ‘My dear Lady Hadleigh, do look at these charming baby shawls. I think we should both purchase one.’ She stopped at the sight of the group at the counter. ‘Lady Framlingham. Lady Frederica.’ Her expression became perfectly blank for a moment before it was replaced with a charming social smile. ‘You have met my friend Lady Hadleigh, I see. Arabella, have you been introduced to the Countess of Framlingham and Lady Frederica?’

  ‘No.’ Bella held out her gloved hand. Something was very wrong here; the countess had reacted badly to the news that Elliott was married before she had realised that Bella was with child.

  Lady Framlingham looked down her nose and merely touched the tips of Bella’s fingers with her own. ‘You have known Lord Hadleigh for some time,’ she stated.