The Notorious Marriage

by Nicola Cornick

  Eleanor knew that it was not that simple. In fact it was not simple at all. She knew it but she could not seem to focus on it, for Kit was kissing her again, ending both thinking and discussion. His mouth took hers in short, sharp little kisses that stole her breath. There was little of love in them and everything of desire and possession, but Eleanor still felt herself weakening. Her lips parted irresistibly beneath his and he kissed her again, with a deeper kiss that was slow and hungry this time. Eleanor let the coverlet fall from her fingers and caught hold of Kit’s arms as much to steady herself as to draw him closer. The linen of his sleeve was rough beneath her fingers and she clutched it for dear life, but he sat back a little.

  ‘You can stop me, you know, Eleanor. After all, I gave you my word. All it requires is for you to tell me to stop…’

  ‘Yes…’ Eleanor whispered. She was not at all sure what she was saying, but it certainly was not that he should stop. She could tell him that in a little while, perhaps. After he had kissed her some more…

  There was a pause, then Kit pulled her to him again, teasing her lips apart with his tongue so that Eleanor caught her breath and he moved quickly to take her mouth completely. His hand tangled in her hair, tilting her head so that he could taste her to the full. She felt as though she was falling, tumbling down into a pool of the most desperate desire. This was so sweet and she had longed for it. Tell him to stop…Well, there was plenty of time.

  Kit put his hand to the bow at the neckline of her nightgown and pulled the ribbon hard. It uncurled into his fingers. He eased the gown gently to her waist, dropping a kiss on the curve of Eleanor’s bare shoulder. She shivered, a rose blush colouring her skin, then closed her eyes as she felt Kit cup one breast in the palm of his hand and bend to kiss its tight crest.

  He sucked gently, first one breast then the other. Eleanor gave a small whimper of pleasure and almost fell backwards into the yielding softness of the mattress. Kit followed, leaning over to repeat his caresses with fingers and tongue, driving coherent thought even further from Eleanor’s mind. It had been a long time and she had ached for him, and under the onslaught of her senses her conscious mind was quiescent, her fears stilled.

  Kit drew the rest of the nightgown away from her so that she was lying on the coverlet, quite naked, her senses so dazed that she was utterly unselfconscious. Kit leant over her again, kissing her softly, tenderly. She was as innocent as when he had first taken her to his bed, her eyes slumberous with passion as she looked at him from beneath heavy lids.

  ‘Kit…’

  ‘Yes? Do you wish me to stop now?’

  ‘No, but…’ He saw her frown and bent his lips to touch the fullness of hers again, unable to resist. They were warm, damp and already swollen from his kisses. After a moment her eyelids flickered closed again.

  Kit parted her lips with his own, touching his tongue to hers. She was not passive—she accepted his caresses with pleasure and responded with a shy hesitancy that excited him more than the calculated embraces of the courtesans had ever done. Nevertheless, Kit mastered his own desire. This was all about Eleanor. He would never discover the truth if he blundered on, intent only on satisfying his own needs. He had waited this long and he could wait longer if it meant that he could claim his wife at the end and solve this perplexing mystery of the annulment.

  He pressed soft kisses gently against her neck and the hollow of her shoulder, watching all the time for a sign that Eleanor was uncomfortable with his attentions, waiting for a clue to her fears. It seemed that the reverse was true. She moved beneath his caresses with evident pleasure; her skin was pink and flushed with desire. Kit trailed kisses down her throat to the upper swell of her breasts. She moaned softly. He took one nipple in his mouth again, flicking it teasingly with his tongue whilst he cupped and stroked her other breast with his fingers. The touch and taste of her satin skin and Eleanor’s avid response were almost enough to drive him to the edge, but he concentrated hard on his predicament rather than his feelings. Unfortunately—or fortunately—he had not pushed her hard enough yet. There was more to learn…

  He allowed his lips to drift lower, across the sensitive skin of her stomach. In the candlelight her skin was pale golden, soft but firm. Kit’s fingers brushed across her thighs, softly parting her legs, subtly, so subtly stroking the soft, sensitive skin.

  ‘Eleanor?’

  An incoherent murmur was his only reply. Kit smiled and did not even bother to ask the question.

  When he finally stole a caress at the burning centre of her, he was gentle and tender, watching her, revelling in her instinctive gasp of pleasure and the way she writhed on the coverlet beneath his hands. She made no move to pull away from him and after a moment Kit resumed the intimate caress. She was utterly lost in a realm of pleasurable sensation. With infinite care he parted her thighs still further and touched her again.

  Eleanor shrieked, burying her face in the pillow. Her whole body went boneless, supine. Kit touched her again—and again, until she convulsed in sheer ecstasy. He no longer had any thought for anything other than the giving of pleasure—and the enjoyment it gave him to satisfy her so. At the end he rolled her into his arms and held her close, holding her sweet and softly scented body against his own aching one. Now…Surely now they could be reconciled…

  ‘I love you,’ he said, very softly.

  Eleanor opened her eyes and looked at him. For what seemed like minutes her gaze was dazed and dark, then awareness crept back and with it horror. The colour came into her cheeks then fled as swiftly as it had come. She pressed her hands to her face, and burst into a storm of tears.

  ‘No! Oh no!’

  Kit was horrified. He pulled the coverlet close about her and cradled her to him as she cried.

  ‘Eleanor? Sweetheart? Don’t cry—everything will be all right…’

  All he got in reply was a violent shake of the head and Eleanor cried all the harder. Kit gave up any attempt to speak and just held her closer, overriding her attempt to pull away. Eventually she started to speak. He had to bend his head closer still and strain to hear the words.

  ‘This is just what I did not want to happen because it is not fair…’ Eleanor sniffed piteously. ‘It is because of this that I have to go…’

  Kit frowned as he tried to make sense of this. ‘Why is it not fair, sweetheart? Fair to whom? You?’

  ‘No!’ Eleanor raised her head and looked at him angrily. ‘It is not fair to you, Kit! Every man wishes to make love to his own wife—it is only natural…’

  Whilst taking issue with the first part of this sentence, Kit knew that it was certainly true in his particular case. But it still did not make sense.

  ‘True—which we have just done—’

  ‘No!’ Eleanor said again. She sat up and the coverlet slipped. Kit tried not to look at the nakedness it revealed, for she looked like a tumbled angel and it was doing terrible things to his concentration. He wanted her so much, but this was more important. He took her hands in his.

  ‘Sweetheart, I am sorry but I still do not understand. Surely you are not telling me that you still wish for an annulment?’

  ‘Yes, I do!’ Eleanor cried wildly. ‘To avoid precisely this happening again…’ She started to cry again.

  Kit stood up abruptly and thrust one hand through his hair. He could not believe it; could not believe that she was being so stubborn, could not believe that what had seemed so sweet to him—and in the end so simple—was not the same for her. He took her by the shoulders and shook her gently.

  ‘Eleanor, look at me and tell me that you do not love me! Look at me!’

  Her head came up slowly. Her eyes were wide, her expression bruised. ‘I cannot tell you that, Kit. But it makes no difference!’

  Kit let his hands fall away. He felt baffled and he felt furious. ‘You love me yet you still want an annulment?’

  Her answer was a whispered breath. ‘Yes.’

  Kit looked down at her bent head. ‘Then you shall ha
ve what you want. I am too tired to fight this, Nell, when I do not understand what I am fighting.’

  He went out of the room and closed the door quietly behind him. Through the bolted door to his dressing-room he could hear her crying and he almost went back to her, but in the end he did not and they both lay awake all night, on separate sides of the door, in silence.

  Beth Trevithick was alone in her conservatory. It was very unusual to have time to herself, but this morning everyone had gone out and she, pleading tiredness, had snatched a few hours to herself potting cuttings for Lady Salome to take back to Devon with her. It was warm and airy in the conservatory and the scent of flowers was in the air. Beth was enjoying herself so much that she was quite annoyed to hear footsteps on the tiled floor—male footsteps, she thought, wondering if Marcus had returned early. She put down her gardening gloves and little spade in order to greet the newcomer.

  It was not Marcus but Kit who came round the corner, and Beth smiled when she saw her cousin.

  ‘Kit!’ She greeted him with unalloyed pleasure. ‘My dear, how delightful—and how brave of you to venture here! Is Eleanor with you?’ She paused, looking at him more closely. ‘Oh dear, you look quite dreadful! Whatever has happened?’

  Kit did not reply. He took a seat on the cushioned bench beside the pond, and after a moment Beth came to sit beside him. She could tell something was terribly wrong—they were friends from childhood as well as cousins, and Beth knew Kit as well as she knew Charlotte. Kit was not normally profligate in his emotions, but now she knew he was building up to tell her something truly dreadful and her heart began to race with fear.

  ‘I am only potting up some plants for Lady Salome,’ she said conversationally, to give him time, ‘for she wishes to have some cuttings for her own greenhouses. I do believe—’

  ‘It is Eleanor,’ Kit said abruptly, cutting across her as though she were not speaking. He swung round to look at her and Beth saw how haggard he looked in the bright morning light.

  ‘She has asked for an annulment, Beth, and I have agreed.’ Kit brought his clenched fist down on the arm of the chair with a force that made it shudder. ‘I came here because I did not wish you and Charlotte to hear the news from Eleanor herself, or worse, from Trevithick. I wanted to tell you myself!’

  ‘Kit…’ Beth put a hand on his and after a moment he looked up at her, though she thought that he was not really seeing her.

  ‘I cannot understand it.’ Kit’s lips set in a hard line. ‘She will not tell me her true reasons yet I know that she loves me! She told me so herself! It makes no sense!’ He shook his head. ‘I even wondered last night if one of those so-called admirers of hers had hurt her in some manner…’ he broke off, letting his breath out on an angry sigh ‘…yet I cannot think that true. I do not believe she has been with another man.’

  He swung round, suddenly concentrating on her so fiercely that Beth almost flinched.

  ‘Beth, you were with Eleanor during the time I was away. What happened to her?’

  Beth closed her eyes briefly. From the very first she had dreaded this, knowing that one day Kit might ask her this very question, knowing that she loved her cousin and could not lie to him. Yet she knew that Eleanor loved him too and that it was Eleanor’s place to tell him, not hers. But Kit had seen her hesitation now and his fingers bit into her wrist. His blue gaze narrowed on her.

  ‘You know something, don’t you! Tell me!’

  ‘Kit, you are hurting me,’ Beth said very steadily. ‘Let go of me and pray keep calm, for I cannot help you if you terrify me!’

  There was a moment of taut silence, and then Kit released her wrist and shook his head slowly, as though he were awaking from sleep.

  ‘Beth, forgive me. I did not mean to hurt you, but I am half out of my mind—’

  ‘I understand.’ Beth said. She patted his hand again. ‘Listen to me, Kit, and do not interrupt, no matter how tempted you are. I cannot lie to you. Yes, I do know what happened to Eleanor when you were away and no, I cannot tell you what it was. No!’ She held up an imperative hand as he was about to interrupt her. ‘Eleanor must tell you herself! Now, I will speak to her and try to persuade her, but Kit, the matter is so personal to her—and to you—that it would not be right for me to intervene. But I swear,’ she took his hand in a tight grip, ‘that no one has hurt her. Not in the sense that you mean. This is a matter between the two of you only. And I dare swear also…’ there were tears in Beth’s eyes as she looked at him ‘…that Eleanor loves you most truly, but she is desperately afraid, Kit. That is all I can tell you.’

  There was a silence, but for the splashing of the water into the ornamental pool.

  ‘Marcus is hosting a dinner tonight in Lady Salome’s honour,’ Beth said, disentangling herself a little. She sat back and smiled at her cousin.

  ‘I understand that it is the last thing that you would wish to do, Kit, but I beg you to come and bring Eleanor with you. It is very important. I believe that many things will be revealed.’

  Chapter Eleven

  The party that met at Trevithick House that night was hardly in celebratory mood and it was a tribute to Lady Salome that they were all there at all. The intention was for a family dinner followed by a ball for a small and select group of friends and acquaintances, and whilst the food was good the conversation was worse than stilted.

  Eleanor, who had been placed next to Justin on one side and Kit on the other, was finding it impossible to make even the slightest attempt to talk to either of them. Justin’s attention was focused on Charlotte with the single-minded avidity of a starving man who can see a meal just out of his reach. Kit was polite but so distant that he might as well have been an utter stranger. Eleanor nibbled her food and felt miserable.

  Further down the table, Lady Salome was chatting blithely to Marcus, who was glaring at Beth. The Dowager Lady Trevithick was surprisingly animated and had two bright spots of colour showing on her cheeks. Every so often she would surreptitiously tip some laudanum from her vial into her wineglass. Even Beth and Charlotte looked vaguely strained and were avoiding looking at their respective husbands.

  The dessert had just been removed and the ladies were preparing to retire, when Lady Salome stood up.

  ‘I should like to say a few words to you all,’ she said, twinkling at them roguishly. ‘It has been a great pleasure for me to have my family about me this evening and I wish to thank you all, particularly as I know you would probably not have chosen to be at the same table could you avoid it!’

  There was some movement around that very table as various members of the family shifted uncomfortably. Lady Salome had a talent for making them sound like difficult children.

  ‘And it is for that very reason that I intend to right some wrongs this evening!’ Lady Salome continued grandly. ‘Vengeance is mine, I shall repay, saith the Lord! But tonight, my dears, I shall do the repaying!’

  ‘Oh Lord,’ Marcus said, under his breath.

  Eleanor shot him a reproving look. She was glad that he was about to get his comeuppance. ‘Marcus, hush! This is a serious matter!’

  ‘At the beginning of the year I accompanied my brother St John to Ireland on a mission he was undertaking on behalf of the Bishop of Exeter.’ Lady Salome said, casting her gaze down sorrowfully. ‘I think you all know now that the trip was a disaster and that St John has subsequently retired. What you do not know…’ she paused for effect ‘…is that whilst we were in Ireland we were beset by difficulties that I was unable and St John—sadly—incapable of rectifying. Personal and financial difficulties…’ She let the sentence trail discreetly away.

  There was a silence. Kit moved slightly in his seat. Lady Salome turned to him.

  ‘I know that you had no wish for this to be disclosed, my dear Christopher, but I can be silent no longer! It pains me to see the unhappiness in this family! Where there is discord, let me bring harmony! Where there is feuding, let me spread peace!’

  Eleanor bit her lip
, surprised by an unexpected urge to laugh. There was no doubt that Lady Salome was playing to the gallery. Everyone had turned to look at Kit now, and he did not seem very pleased about it. She made an instinctive move to place a reassuring hand on his arm, and then drew back. No doubt the last thing that he would wish was for reassurance from her.

  Marcus raised his eyebrows. ‘I infer that Mostyn has rendered you some service that we are unaware of, Aunt?’ He sounded as displeased as Kit looked. ‘You have us all on tenterhooks! Pray enlighten us, if you please!’

  ‘Certainly, dear boy!’ Lady Salome said cheerfully. ‘It was my good fortune to encounter Christopher in Ireland. He was on the point of returning to this country and…’ she smiled at Eleanor ‘…a much desired reunion with his wife. I importuned him to help us—I do not believe we need the precise financial and personal details do we, Marcus?—and Christopher was honourable enough to put our needs before his own, most pressing, circumstances. I need hardly point out what a sacrifice this was for him, nor the troubles that ensued—’

  Kit held a hand up. ‘Dear Lady Salome, you have embarrassed me quite enough! I am sure your audience has all the information it needs!’

  This time the silence around the table was explosive. Marcus’s face was a picture. Beth caught Eleanor’s eye and pulled an expressive face.

  ‘You silence me, ma’am,’ Marcus said, at length. ‘Perhaps this would be an opportune moment for the ladies to retire? The gentlemen may then…ah…clarify a few matters…’

  Eleanor sat irresolute. She did not like the thought of leaving Kit alone with both Marcus and Justin for it felt a little like throwing him to the lions. Her support was unlikely to be what he wanted, however. Beth was coming to take her arm with an encouraging word and a smile for Kit, whilst Charlotte had fixed Justin with such a speaking look that Eleanor almost felt sorry for her cousin. The ladies went out, Lady Salome lending the Dowager an arm to lean upon.