by Rose Gordon
“I must hand it to you, John. I have underestimated you yet again. You always seem to surprise me,” Andrew said, shaking his head.
“Yes, well, you’re not the only one,” John said, smiling. He leaned down and started dusting off the rest of his clothes.
“Do you like surprises, then?” Paul drawled, walking out from behind the plant.
John spun around so fast he almost fell over. “Paul,” he said breathlessly. His blue eyes had gone as big as two tea saucers. His suit was crumpled and covered in dust, and there was a large cobweb stuck the front part of his bright blond hair, hanging over onto his forehead. If not for his irritation, Paul would have laughed at the sight.
“Just tell me this,” Paul said, taking a menacing step toward John. “On our wedding day—whenever that may be—my bride will not find it a surprise that I am to be her groom, will she?”
“No,” John gulped, shaking his head violently. “Liberty is well aware she will be marrying you.”
“All right,” Paul said quietly. There was no point in asking her reaction to learning she would have to marry him, he knew it already. He was more interested in making sure she wasn’t going to learn for the first time that she was to become Mrs. Paul Grimes when she reached the church. He tried to convince himself he was only concerned about this so that she wouldn’t throw a fit at the chapel, but if he had to be honest, the real reason was he didn’t think anyone deserved that kind of a surprise.
“Care to stay for dinner, Paul?” Andrew asked, walking to the door.
***
“These two seats are for the happy couple,” Mama chirped, pointing to two chairs in Andrew’s dining room that were at the end of the small table and positioned unusually close together.
Liberty fought the urge to groan as she started to walk over to where her mother stood over by the two chairs, beckoning her with her finger. To her good fortune, just before she reached her spot, she caught sight of a smiling Brooke who was coming from the other direction and plopped herself down into one of the chairs. “Andrew dearest,” Brooke called to her husband. “Come sit. It’s time to eat.”
Liberty flashed a grateful smile to Brooke. She’d resigned herself to the fact she was going to have to marry Mr. Grimes, but that did not mean she wanted to sit so close to him that anytime either of them moved, they’d brush the other. Nor did she think anyone could possibly confuse them for a happy couple.
“Brooke,” Mama said with a speaking glance.
“Sorry, Mama,” Brooke said innocently. “I thought you were referring to Andrew and me.”
“Well, I wasn’t,” Mama said tightly.
“It’s of no account, Carolina,” Mr. Grimes broke in, “Liberty and I will have the rest of our lives to sit together. Besides, I should hate to inconvenience Lady Townson.”
“See, Mama, nobody minds,” Brooke said blithely. “Anyway, you can stop your matchmaking tricks; they’ve already agreed to marry.”
“Yes, I know,” Mama agreed. “All right then, for the rest of the seating arrangements, how about if—”
“Why doesn’t everyone just take a seat wherever they wish,” Andrew cut it smoothly, taking a seat next to his wife.
For the first time in Liberty’s life she agreed wholeheartedly with throwing propriety to the wind and sat in the end seat next to Brooke, the chair typically reserved for the hostess. It didn’t matter if she sat there since the hostess was sitting in one of the chairs that Mama had tried to get her to occupy. Madison shot her a curious look, but shrugged and plopped in the seat across the table from Brooke.
Mama looked disapprovingly at the trio that was sitting huddled together at the end of the table, but thankfully said nothing. Instead, she quietly took a seat on the other side of Andrew, with Papa on the end and Mr. Grimes resuming the vacant seat next to Madison.
“Thank you,” Liberty whispered to Brooke after everyone had started to eat.
“You’re welcome,” Brooke told her. “But Mr. Grimes was right, you know. You will have to sit next to him for the rest of your life. I won’t always be there to save you.”
Liberty swallowed. “I know.”
“And sitting next to him won’t be the only thing you’ll soon be expected to do,” Madison said with a wink.
Liberty felt her face heat up as the blood rushed to her head. The blood roaring in her ears was so loud she almost didn’t hear Brooke’s burble of laughter.
“Shhh,” Liberty hissed at them both. “That is not appropriate dinner conversation.” Although she dearly loved her sisters, neither one of them seemed to care one whit for propriety. Brooke was always doing outrageous things. As for Madison, well, as sweet as she was, she had a few of her own rude behaviors that were quite unbecoming.
“Oh, nobody can hear us,” Brooke assured her quietly, tucking one of her stray raven curls behind her ear.
“I can,” Andrew chimed in, smiling. “But not to worry, those three,” he sent a pointed glance toward their parents and Mr. Grimes, “cannot hear you. Your parents are too busy pounding Paul with questions about the wedding.”
Liberty’s eyes snapped to the end of table. Mama had a happy smile on her face. One which would suggest she was planning the wedding of the century, when in truth, neither the bride nor groom gave a fig about the wedding. Both of them cared about the marriage—being forced to live with the other until death do them part, that part they cared about—but the wedding itself was a different story. Papa looked normal, except for his ruddy cheeks and after every sentence Mama would say, he’d cough and pat his chest.
She imagined that was due to him being found out more and more. Papa had gone so far as to put the announcement in the paper, arrange for the special license and contact a local minister—all before trapping the reluctant Mr. Grimes into agreeing to marry her.
Speaking of the reluctant Mr. Grimes, his face was as grim as she’d ever seen it. She’d seen the man unhappy many times, but just now he looked angrier than she’d ever seen him.
Liberty grabbed her drink and guzzled it down in the most unladylike fashion imaginable, inadvertently drawing attention to herself.
“You have some on your face,” Brooke murmured to her, handing her a napkin.
“Thank you,” Liberty whispered uneasily. “He looks so angry. What am I to do?”
“I can suggest a thing or two that will improve his mood instantly,” Andrew offered with a teasing smile.
Liberty didn’t know exactly what he meant, but knew it had to do with something that should only be done in the dead of night in a locked bedchamber. Her suspicions were only confirmed when Brooke gave him a swat on the arm. “Don’t listen to him,” she told her sister. “Mr. Grimes won’t be mad forever. And if it becomes too unbearable, you can always do what I do and use quotes from the Bible to point out the error of his ways.”
“That’s true,” Liberty conceded. After spending nearly twenty years watching Brooke quote Bible scripture to their father as a means to extricate herself from trouble she’d wound up in, there was little doubt in Liberty’s mind that such a tactic would work.
“Perhaps you should just see how it goes and give him a chance,” Madison put in. “I may not know him well, but I do know that he has not given me a reason to dislike him.”
“Would you like to marry him in my stead?” Liberty asked Madison and laughed when Madison’s eyes bulged and she shook her head with so much vigor her coiffure started to slip.
“I agree with Madison,” Brooke said, nodding slightly. “I’ll admit when we were first introduced I thought he was a bit odd, but now that I’ve gotten to know him, I don’t think so anymore.”
“That, or you’ve just gotten used to it,” Liberty suggested. “Perhaps you’ve been around him and become so accustomed to his oddness you think he’s normal.”
Brooke rolled her eyes. “Does it matter?”
“I suppose not,” Liberty answered dully.
They ate in silence a few more minute
s until Madison whispered. “Well, if it helps, he’s already seen you naked and has still agreed to marry you.”
“Madison,” Liberty snapped disapprovingly. She shot a sharp glance to Brooke who was giggling outright, and caught sight of Andrew’s lips twitching.
“She has a point,” Brooke said a moment later when she got her giggles under control. “It will make your wedding night a bit easier.”
“Brooke,” Liberty said through clenched teeth. Did these two know no bounds? They were eating dinner, for goodness’ sake.
“By the bye,” Brooke continued, ignoring the scathing glance she was receiving, “after dinner come to my room. I want to have a little talk with you and this might be my last chance.”
Liberty had a good idea what kind of a talk Brooke wanted to have with her. “That won’t be necessary,” she said quickly.
“Yes, it will,” Brooke assured her. “If you’re counting on Mama to do it, you may not be properly informed.”
She looked skeptically at Brooke. Mama had been married for more than twenty five years and had three daughters, she obviously knew something.
“Just come see me,” Brooke repeated.
Liberty fought the urge to tell her there was no need since she had no plans to do whatever activity necessary to have children with Mr. Grimes. Not that she didn’t love children, because she did, she adored them in fact; but she just didn’t want to become that close with Mr. Grimes. Swallowing past the lump that had formed in her throat, she said, “All right.”
“Good,” Brooke said with a simple smile. “This way you’ll know what to expect.”
“If you’re going to describe that thing that dangles between his legs, don’t bother,” Liberty said, throwing good manners to the wind like the rest of the heathens she was seated with. “I’ve already seen it.”
“You have?” Brooke squealed.
All three of them, who had been huddled together talking like nobody else was in the room, suddenly felt the questioning gazes of the their parents and Mr. Grimes.
“Excuse my wife,” Andrew cut in evenly, sending the trio a laughing smile. “She was merely shocked when Madison said she’d already decided on the gown she was going to wear to the wedding.”
Mama shot Brooke a sympathetic look; then resumed her conversation at the end of the table.
“Sweetheart,” Andrew said to Brooke. “Do try not to squeal again. I don’t think I can make up another viable excuse.”
“Thank you,” Brooke said, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before turning back to Liberty. “Now you’ll definitely need to come to my room for a talk.”
“Fine,” Liberty ground out. “But only if Madison comes with me.”
Madison, who usually liked to be a silent member of the sisters conversations, put her drink down with an indelicate clang. “No, thank you. I think I’ll pass on having to hear any more about Mr. Grimes’ love musket,” she said dryly.
Brooke burbled with laughter; Liberty gasped; and Andrew choked on his bite of meat at her coarse and slightly unusual words. Madison, however, looked rather pleased with herself, Liberty noted when she got past her shock.
“Are you all right?” Mama asked Andrew.
He continued to cough and smack his chest while his face grew red.
“I think he’s choking,” Papa said, jumping up.
Brooke’s laughter dissolved on the spot and she pulled her arm back as far as she could before she used the heel of her hand to hit her husband with an echoing thwack squarely in the middle of his back.
Brooke’s smack must have done the trick because Andrew brought his napkin to his mouth for a moment, then turned to her and said, “Thank you, darling, I don’t know what I would do without you.”
“Think nothing of it,” Brooke answered, a sweet smile curving her lips.
“Perhaps you should cut your bites a bit smaller,” Mama suggested in a motherly sort of way.
“Perhaps you’re right,” he agreed, looking at Madison and trying not to laugh.
Their dishes were cleared away and dessert was served before anyone spoke again. “Ladies,” Andrew said in low tone, catching the attention of Liberty and her two sisters. “I believe for the rest of the meal the conversation shouldn’t stray from clothing and whatnot. However, Madison, I must commend you, even I had not heard that term before.”
“Thank you,” Madison said graciously, acting not the least bit embarrassed. But then again, why should she bother to act embarrassed when she wasn’t? The whole family knew she was wont to use a coarse word or a shocking phrase every now and again. Where else would Liberty have learned the ones she knew? It wasn’t until recently she’d ever heard her father use one.
When the dessert dishes had been cleared away, Mama was the first to get up from the table. Actually, from where Liberty was sitting, it looked like she literally sprang to her feet. “Shall we retire to the drawing room?” she suggested.
Andrew stiffened. Liberty could tell he wanted to say something. Perhaps something that most would not consider nice. After a little incident with a game of charades last year, he wasn’t nearly as tolerable of Mama’s parlor games.
“Actually, I must be going,” Mr. Grimes said, taking to his feet. “It appears I have a busy day tomorrow.”
Liberty knew what he was alluding to. It would seem that tomorrow was to be their Big Day. Poor man, he had no idea when he was summoned to London that his entire life was going to change so drastically before he went back home.
Shifting her glance to Papa, she saw he had a hesitant smile on his face, probably because he had just done a great wrong to someone he’d come to care about. Her heart sank. Papa would never have done the things he did if it weren’t for her. This was just yet another way she was a disappointment. Well, starting tomorrow that would all change. She would become Mrs. Paul Grimes and do her best to be a model wife. She may not be happy about it, but she’d do whatever she needed to.
Chapter 7
Paul had never had such a restless rest. Part of him was mad—nay, angry—nay, furious—with John. He understood John’s desire to protect his daughter, but he’d gone too far this time.
Pushing past his anger over John’s tricks, he found new anger in the fact he’d just agreed to die a virgin. Though he was a minister, he was not a monk and he’d be lying if he didn’t acknowledge his disappointment at the prospect of never being with a woman. Of course he could tell Liberty it was his husbandly right to make her share his bed, but that wouldn’t be very satisfying. Well, in a way it would be, he thought wryly. He had seen her naked once and despite his best efforts, every now and then the image popped into his head. At the time, he had just been doing his best to get her warm and had no other motives, but his brain must have absorbed more of her naked image than he’d originally thought.
After the first time he’d woken up in a cold sweat with a throbbing erection after having a dream about her, he’d lain awake for hours trying to make sense of it. Finally, just as the sun was rising, the simple—and obvious—solution hit him. It was because he’d never seen a naked lady before. Actually, that wasn’t exactly true, he’d seen one once, but she was no lady.
When he was eighteen, his father died and his brother inherited his title. That’s when he’d started to seriously pursue his life in the ministry and came to terms that he would be just as inexperienced as his future wife. That really hadn’t bothered him so much. First, she’d be a virgin and wouldn’t know the difference. Second, as a minister he couldn’t have a reputation for sleeping with unmarried—or married—women. And third, at least this way he would avoid getting a bawdyhouse disease.
That reason alone seemed good enough for Paul to keep it in his pants.
Two years before that when he was sixteen, however, he’d questioned if he would indeed go into ministry like his father had before inheriting his brother’s title due to lack of male issue. He knew that living a minister’s lifestyle he’d never get to experience many
of the same things his brother and friends would.
After a month’s contemplation, he asked his older brother to take him with him to a brothel the next time he went. Sam readily agreed and the next night Paul found himself at Lady Bird’s, a local brothel. Sam introduced him to the Madam, and together the two of them decided Ginger should be the one to introduce Paul to the enchanting world of bed sport.
Nervously, Paul took a seat in the front room and waited while Ginger “freshened up”. His brother sat next to him and informed him Ginger wasn’t the best looking, but she was the most patient. And if he should have any trouble, he should just close his eyes and imagine Lucy. Paul nodded with great enthusiasm. Lucy was their dairymaid, and a very fine looking girl. He’d had no doubt that thinking about her would solve a problem, should one arise, or lack thereof, as the case may be.
A few minutes later, a woman dressed in a tattered chemise walked up and grabbed Paul’s hand. Resisting the urge to pull from her clasp, he got up and followed her back to the room.
“I hear yer a virgin,” Ginger purred, clucking her tongue.
Paul nodded.
“Ginger’ll take care o’ that right away,” she said as if virginity was some pesky little thing he needed to be divested of post haste.
Paul smiled tentatively. Perhaps this was not such a good idea, he thought once he was in the room. His eyes swept his surroundings, causing his stomach to clench. In the middle of the room was a mattress with rumpled and stained sheets. Next to that was a half full chamber pot and half a dozen different articles of clothing were scattered across the floor, most of which belonged to men.
Paul took a deep breath and immediately regretted breathing through his nose. The room smelled of sex. Not that he was an expert, but he did know what semen smelled like, and this room reeked of it.
“Come here, you big boy,” Ginger called suggestively.