The Wife He Always Wanted

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The Wife He Always Wanted Page 10

by Cheryl Ann Smith


  Noelle took a seat beside her and took her hand. “It cannot be that grim. Tell me everything.”

  Sarah recounted yesterday morning’s events, leaving nothing out. When she was finished with the sad tale, Noelle stood, went to the writing table, and scribbled a note.

  “Have you finally given me up as lost?” Sarah said, jesting. “What are you writing?”

  Noelle ignored her. She called for a maid and gave her low-voiced instructions. Puzzled, Sarah waited until the maid scurried off to level on Noelle a curious stare.

  Noelle shrugged. “I believe drastic measures are in order. I have called for assistance.”

  Though Sarah pressed her for information, it was nearly an hour before the butler came to announce a visitor.

  “Lady Har—”

  An attractive woman, her sable hair twisted into a knot at the base of her neck, came hurrying in past the butler, as if she were being chased by snapping hounds.

  “—rington.” The butler frowned and withdrew.

  “Noelle, what is the emergency? Is Kathleen ill? Lord Seymour? Do tell me nothing has happened to Brenna or the baby.”

  Noelle met her halfway. “Calm yourself, dearest. There is nothing so dire.” She took her arms and gave her a small shake. “Do take a breath, Laura, before you faint dead away.”

  “But your note said there was an emergency and to come straightaway.” She glanced around the room, spotted Sarah seated calmly on the settee, and looked back at Noelle. She settled slightly. “What is this about?”

  “I apologize for the clipped note. I know you have just returned from your country estate, but I had to see you.” Noelle led Laura to Sarah. “This is Sarah, Gabriel’s wife.”

  Laura appeared curious, though not entirely surprised. She’d clearly already heard about the newest Mrs. Harrington.

  The women exchanged pleasant greetings. Laura smiled. The smile tightened to a teeth-grit when she returned her attention back to Noelle. “Though I have been eager to meet both Gabriel and Sarah, Simon and I planned to call in a few days after we’ve had time to unpack and rest. Certainly introductions do not an emergency make?”

  Noelle shook her head. “This is not about introductions; this is about fixing a troubled marriage.”

  Laura stared. “I think you should explain yourself.”

  For the next fifteen minutes, the clock ticked while Noelle quietly explained their predicament. After the tale was told, Noelle and Laura fell silent while the duo sat on the settee facing her and stared. Sarah, remembering the rule about not fidgeting in social settings, sat with her hands clasped primly in her lap while they took her measure.

  Her burning cheeks refused to cooperate with her attempt to put forth a serene countenance.

  Laura finally spoke first. “I do not understand your cousin, Gabriel. Sarah is everything a man looks for in a wife. She is pleasant, pretty, and intelligent. What else is he looking for?”

  Noelle nodded. “I cannot agree more. I’ve been searching my mind trying to figure out why he is hesitant to pursue his marital rights. My only thought is that perhaps he is used to less, shall we say, innocent partners and is intimidated by her sweetness.”

  “Hmmm.” Laura tapped her chin. “From what I’ve heard about Gabriel, I do not think intimidation is his problem.” She paused. “Perhaps he sees her innocence as a barrier to his more robust attentions. Some men tread cautiously where their virginal wives are concerned.”

  “Yes. You could be correct,” Noelle said. “I had not considered that. And, do you think that for years his thoughts of her were sisterly, through the stories told by Albert in his letters? Those innocent images could certainly cool his ardor.”

  “But he married me,” Sarah protested. “We had our wedding eve. Sort of.” She blanched under the unbidden image of her nightgown being pushed up and then, nothing.

  “She’s blushing,” Noelle said to Laura.

  “Therein lies the problem,” Laura agreed. “How can she play a seductress when she cannot even say ‘wedding eve’ without turning puce?”

  They returned to staring at Sarah.

  “Why do I need to be a seductress?” Sarah asked. She felt entirely lost in this conversation. “Are wives not taught to lie back and wait for their husbands to finish, then roll over and go to sleep?”

  Two pairs of eyes widened. “Oh dear,” Noelle said.

  “Goodness,” Laura uttered under her breath. “Noelle, you are correct to call for me. This is an emergency.”

  Sarah’s comment had struck horror in the minds of the two women. Their faces made that clear. And she wasn’t entirely sure why. Everyone knew that beddings were for the pleasure of men, didn’t they?

  Laura drew in a deep breath and rubbed her palms together. Her concerned expression matched that of Noelle.

  “My dearest Sarah,” she said. “From this moment forward, you must forget everything, and I do mean everything, that your aunt taught you about men. First and foremost, you must know that a woman can find pleasure in her marital bed, with a husband who is unselfish and loving.”

  Sarah flicked a glance at Noelle. “Is this true?”

  “It is.”

  Sarah slumped back against the settee and thought of her aunt and all the dismal things she’d been told about marriage. And there were many. “I have been misled.”

  “Desperately,” Laura agreed.

  “By an aunt who clearly did not enjoy her own marriage,” Noelle added. “Thankfully, you have us to give you a clearer picture of marital expectations. And they do not involve lying back and thinking about the weekly menu.”

  They shared a nod. Sarah leaned her head back and closed her eyes. “If only it was possible to go back to the beginning of my developing years. That would be easier than unlearning all of her teachings.”

  The chatter stopped. Then, “What a splendid idea!” Noelle exclaimed, and Sarah’s eyelids snapped open. “We must start from the absolute beginning. We must treat Sarah’s lessons as if she is making her debut into society not as a married woman but as a virginal miss. We will teach her how to entice a mate, watch for rakes, flirt and laugh and dance with men . . . not Gabriel.”

  Laura bit her bottom lip. “Of course. Gabriel had his wife fall into his lap while making no effort whatsoever to court her. He must court her and woo her if he wants to keep her.”

  “I completely agree,” Lady Seymour said from the doorway. “I have said the same myself, although I could not come up with a way to make it work.” She joined them. “My son needs to earn his wife to appreciate her.”

  Noelle’s eyes lit up. Sarah braced herself.

  “I have just the way to start this game.” Noelle rubbed her palms together. “The plan was to launch Sarah into society at the Hollybrooks’ ball. I propose that instead we bring her to the Coventry Masque this Saturday. I will introduce her as a childhood friend, come to visit. Masked, she will be free to practice flirting, speaking of current events with Members of Parliament, or just making mischief, whatever suits her.”

  “I am not ready,” Sarah protested.

  “It’s an excellent idea,” said Lady Seymour and Laura in unison, ignoring the protest entirely.

  With that pronouncement, Sarah’s fate was sealed.

  * * *

  I do not like lying to Gabriel,” Sarah said Saturday evening as she got ready for the masque at Noelle’s town house.

  “Nonsense,” Noelle said and instructed the maid to add a bit more powder to Sarah’s face. “Lady Seymour gave her permission. There is nothing to do now but enjoy your first ball.”

  “And when Gabriel finds out that I went without him?”

  “You may lay the blame entirely at my feet.” Noelle stepped back and examined Sarah’s costume. Dressed as Anne Boleyn, wife of Henry VIII and once the most scandalous woman in England, Sarah wa
s as far from the late queen in both style and temperament as one could be.

  “This is a terrible mistake.” Sarah reached up to touch the headpiece covering her hair. “I should return home to my books.”

  Noelle let out a long-suffering sigh and took her by her arms. “When is the last time you felt youthful and carefree?”

  Sarah grimaced. “Never.”

  “Then hush about books and going home to that neglectful husband of yours. First, Gavin and I will watch over you so that you’ll be in no danger of being seduced by some rogue. Second, we will have you home by the time Gabriel notices you missing.”

  Meeting Noelle’s eyes, Sarah realized her friend was correct about everything. “I’ve gone from sheltered innocent to wife while experiencing none of the fun and frivolity most young women enjoy when launched into society. Oh, how I wanted to be frivolous!” A flush crept over Sarah’s face with her outburst.

  Noelle laughed. “Tonight you will have both.”

  Her friend’s confidence gave her courage. “Once my mask is in place, I will be anonymous, free to explore my first society ball without the impediment of doing so as Gabriel Harrington’s new bride, watched by everyone.”

  “Brava, dearest,” Noelle said. “That is the spirit I like to see from you.”

  “Then we must hurry or we will be late,” Sarah said. She walked to the dressing table to collect her mask and flounced to the door before she lost her courage. “There are men to charm with my saucy witticisms and flirtatious banter.”

  * * *

  The ball was in full whirl when Mister Blackwell led them into the house with his wife and Sarah on each arm. The house was lit with more candles than she would have been able to use for ten years in her cottage, Sarah thought, as she was whisked through the receiving line and into the ballroom.

  Within a half hour she confirmed Noelle’s assurance that in costume, and with being new to London, there was no chance of recognition. She even managed to return the smile of a passing man dressed as a glorified dandy.

  “See,” Noelle said in her ear as the man was whisked away by a woman dressed as a shepherdess. “You just flirted.”

  “Truly?”

  “Truly,” Noelle replied. “An innocent miss would look away, lowering her eyes to discourage him from approaching. You met his gaze and smiled back. If not for the shepherdess clinging to his arm, I believe he would have stopped for conversation.”

  “Who knew that a friendly smile could encourage a man’s attention?” Sarah puzzled over this. “If I allow a gentleman to kiss my hand, does that mean we are engaged?” she teased.

  “Not quite,” Noelle said. “Though if a young woman allows herself to be taken into a darkened garden by a man, and is caught, no matter how innocent the encounter, she could very well be ruined. Unless her irate father can get the cad dragged before a parson before gossip spreads about her downfall from grace.”

  “Hmmm. There are too many rules in your society.” Sarah glanced around the crowded room, taking care not to encourage any man to approach. “There should be a book for young ladies to carry in their pockets for guidance.”

  “Most women are taught the rules from birth,” Mister Blackwell added. He nodded to a passing devil. “You’ll need years to catch up.”

  With Noelle as her tutor, Sarah managed to laugh with the Blackwells’ friends and even attempted to flirt a bit with a pair of unattached men. Though it was awkward in presentation, neither of the men seemed to mind. They were both determined to see her unmasked and made a game of guessing her identity.

  “If I tell you who I am then you will lose interest and I will be left bereft of your company,” Sarah said. She waved her fan. “You shall just have to wait for the unmasking.”

  She knew they’d be gone before then and had no fear of losing her anonymity.

  “Then at least you should allow me a dance,” the bolder of the two men pressed. “I do enjoy dancing.”

  “I am afraid that I am not a very good dancer,” Sarah said with an exaggerated sigh. “The dance master has deemed me quite incompetent.”

  The man was not about to be put off. He took her gloved hand as his companion moved off to find a partner of his own. “They are lining up for a country dance. There is little fear of you damaging my toes.”

  With a nod from Mister Blackwell, Sarah accepted the invitation with a weak smile and was taken away to join the row of dancers.

  * * *

  W hat have you done with my wife, Noelle?” Gabriel said as he closed in on Noelle and Blackwell. He’d arrived in time to see his wife taken away by a man dressed as what he assumed was the great lover Casanova.

  Noelle startled and spun about. “Gabriel?”

  Gabe pushed his mask up and glared. “I thought she was spending a quiet evening at your home. Imagine my surprise when I discover her here, in costume, carrying on with a pair of dandies, and clearly doing so with your permission.”

  “She is not carrying on with anyone,” Noelle said, her tone brittle. “She is having fun. And since you seem perfectly content to leave her at home while you appear here without her, I have taken it upon myself to see that she gets out and enjoys herself as a woman of her young age should.”

  “She has a point, Harrington,” Blackwell said. “I assure you that your wife is perfectly safe.”

  Gabe stared at Sarah, who was smiling at her partner as he led her through the dance. Though she was not as polished as the other dancers, she did manage a respectable job of the steps.

  “If she wanted to go out, she could have said so,” Gabe grumbled. For some reason he could not fathom, it irked him to see her with another man. “I would have escorted her.”

  “As your duty, not because you wanted to,” Noelle snapped, drawing his attention back to her. “You barely notice her. So as you can see, she does not have that problem with other men. They genuinely enjoy her company.”

  His eyes flicked back to his wife. Over the course of the last few weeks, she’d put on some weight and had lost some of her skittishness, though he suspected this evening’s newfound confidence had less to do with a change in her personality and more to do with the mask covering her face. She did appear quite comfortable in this setting.

  “How I treat my wife is none of your concern,” he said. He’d not have Noelle interfering in his marriage.

  “You are correct. It is you who needs to concern yourself with your wife.” Noelle took her husband’s arm. “Sarah gains confidence every day. Soon enough, it will be you who is standing in the background while she lives a life without you.”

  With that, the Blackwells drifted off.

  Was he that much of a cad? He’d not mistreated Sarah, nor had he done anything to harm her. He’d fulfilled his promise to Albert, had he not? Why then did Noelle’s words send a sharp poker right into his gut?

  Because she was correct, damn her. His parents had also said as much. They all thought him failing as a husband.

  Though he’d planned to eventually seduce his wife, he’d not thought of how he’d treat her outside of bed. Damn his years away from society. He was most unprepared to act like a doting husband.

  Truthfully, he had been neglectful.

  Gabe knew there was much more to this marriage business than just what happened between the sheets. His parents had been the example of what a loving couple should be. However, he and Sarah were not a loving couple. They knew very little about each other and, well, he was not wildly mad for her like his father was for Mother.

  She was little Sarah. Albert’s sister. Why could he not move past thinking of her as such? Worse, from the moment they’d taken their vows, he’d considered himself shackled with an unwanted wife, as if she forced him into the marriage.

  Shamed, he vowed again to do something to change his thinking. She was his wife after all. Guilt and regret had no place any
more. Sarah did not deserve an absent husband.

  Glancing to where she’d last been, he saw Casanova escort her off the dance floor. Determined to remove Sarah from the clutches of the dandy, and to spend the rest of the evening dancing in attendance to her, he pulled his mask back down and went to stalk his wife.

  Chapter Nine

  Sarah smiled politely when her partner asked if he could bring her punch. “Thank you, no,” she said and withdrew her hand from his arm. The man was already too eager to impress her with his wealth, properties, and connections to the royal family. It was his want to blather on about these things in hopes of impressing her. Instead, she struggled not to yawn behind her hand.

  She wanted to return to Noelle and Gavin. They were much more interesting.

  “Would you care to dance again?” Casanova pressed. The man certainly was not timid. If only she could admit to being a married woman and send him on his way.

  “I fear my feet are tired.” Annoyance welled. He was beginning to turn from eager to downright pushy. “I think I shall sit out the next dance.”

  “Then I shall escort you back,” he said and reached for her arm. Sarah stepped back to avoid contact.

  “That will not be necessary.” She held up a hand and said firmly, “I am quite capable of finding my way around a ballroom.”

  “Yes, however—” His protest was cut off by the approach of a man in black. The stranger was not overly tall, and a mask covered most of his face. He carried himself with aplomb as he crossed toward them. When he drew close, Sarah felt a shiver crawl down her spine. His gray eyes were flat and cold, his thin lips curled into a smirk.

  “Your Lordship.” Casanova dipped into a bow.

  “Brightman.” The stranger greeted her partner, but his attention was on her. As with his eyes, his voice held no warmth. “You must introduce me to this enchanting young woman.”

  Casanova’s, or rather, Brightman’s, shoulders slumped.

 

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