by Dayna Quince
Once Hazel finished her breakfast, she bathed and dressed and went to see to her husband. He was still sleeping, his clothes from the evening before still on him. It was a quarter past ten. When she moved closer, he snorted and jerked awake.
“What the devil, Smith?”
“It’s not Smith.” Hazel hid her smile as she walked around the bed. He looked adorably rumpled and in need of his own tender loving care.
He rolled onto his back and stretched before sitting up and dropping his legs over the side of the bed. He rubbed his face. “What time is it?”
“A quarter past ten,” Hazel answered. She set her hands on his shoulders. “How was she last night?”
“Frail. The room was boiling hot. She had a fever, or so it seemed given the room was so hot. I should see to her. Has the doctor arrived?”
“I wasn’t informed of it yet.”
He pulled her close, resting his head on her shoulder. “She gave me a fright last night, talking as if she were moments away from her last breath.”
Hazel remained still. “Do you think she is really dying?”
“It’s hard to believe, but she does look unwell. I should see to her.”
“Have Smith clean you up first, or the good doctor will think you’ve caught it as well.” Hazel pulled away from him and pulled on the bell cord. “I’ll go see her right now,” Hazel offered.
“Thank you. You’ll be more use to her than I am.”
Hazel doubted it. She remembered how Emily had specified that only he was wanted. Hazel wondered how she would be received this morning.
She left Garrett in the hands of Smith and found her way to Mrs. Danford’s chamber. As she approached, a man with white hair and a white mustache exited the room carrying a bag.
“Oh, are you the doctor?”
He looked up in surprise. “Ah, the new Countess of Bainbridge. A pleasure to meet you at last. Dr. Opal, at your service.”
“Thank you for coming, Dr. Opal. How is Mrs. Danford fairing?”
“Well, she was not fond of my examination, but I persisted given His Lordship’s insistent note. Her maid is keeping the room too warm though Mrs. Danford claims she is chilled. She has no fever, her lungs sound clear, and her heart sounds fine to the ear. If she is ill, I don’t have a remedy for it.”
Hazel considered his words. “It is still reassuring that you have seen her.”
“Please, do not hesitate to summon me if the need arises.”
“Thank you. I will tell His Lordship all you’ve told me.”
Hazel waited as the Doctor passed down the stairs. She knocked lightly on Mrs. Danford’s door and waited. She could hear voices inside. The door was snatched opened and there Emily stood.
“Emily? I’d like to see Mrs. Danford.”
Emily didn’t budge. But she did look over her shoulder. Hazel couldn’t see beyond Emily.
“She is sleeping,” Emily responded.
Hazel would bet her best bonnet that was a lie. “Splendid. She will need all the rest she can get. I’ll tell His Lordship not to disturb her. The doctor was adamant that she not leave her bed or eat anything stronger than broth and weak tea for three days at least. He gave me a special powder for her to drink with her tea three times a day. His Lordship has already given the rest of the staff instructions.”
“I was not made aware of any of this.”
“Of course not. You were tending Mrs. Danford. We will have a cot set up for you in here so you can meet her every need.”
Hazel stifled a giggle. If Emily’s face became any harder, it would crack. “If that is what is needed,” Emily said tightly.
“Oh, it is, Emily. The state of Mrs. Danford’s health rests entirely on your shoulders. I must go now.” Hazel turned away as Emily closed the door. Hazel had to restrain herself from skipping. She’d told a very big lie, which she was not proud of, but she was enjoying it. She suspected she was not the only one lying through her teeth.
She needed to set things in place as soon as possible, first keeping Garrett from visiting and then making sure the staff was made aware of her strict rules for Mrs. Danford’s meals.
Chapter 12
The next day was a mixture of bliss and terror. Garrett had accepted her tale, with relief it looked like, and gone about his usual duties. Hazel enjoyed the freedom of the house without the shadow of Mrs. Danford following her. When she spoke to the staff, for the first time without Mrs. Danford, Hazel was worried they would refuse her, but instead, they seemed indifferent and carried out the orders without question. The only soul Hazel dared spill her secret was to Mary.
Mary had cackled wickedly that morning. Eager to make sure Emily did exactly as instructed.
“Oh, if only I could have seen the look on her face, you know the one. They look more alike every day.”
“What look?” Hazel asked out of curiosity. It was the second day of Mrs. Danford’s confinement, and Hazel was already feeling a bit guilty. Surely, the woman was desperate for something to chew. Hazel would be if it were her.
“Her lips scrunch up as tight as a knot, like a cat’s arse. All the staff laughs about it down stairs.”
Hazel was speechless. Once she pictured it in her mind, she couldn’t not see it. Her lips cracked into a smile. “I do see what you mean, Mary.”
Mary nodded. “It’s all right to have a laugh, ma’am. She’s done enough to you already.”
That made Hazel sober. “What do you mean?”
“What do I mean?” Mary shook her head at her. “She’s trying to drive you away.”
“No, she may not like me—she hardly knows me, but she wouldn’t want to drive me away. That’s insanity.”
Mary shrugged. “My sister’s husband, his mother was the same. He was her only boy. She couldn’t stand that he wanted to find work in London so Clara could keep her position. His mother threatened to kill herself if he left. They were only a day’s trip on the mail coach out of town. But leave he did.”
Hazel gasped. “Did she kill herself?”
“Heavens no. How would she pester them and make them worry about her if she were dead? She’s been dying for four years, I tell you, and every chance he gets he takes the mail coach to see her. It’s a hardship for them, spending so much money for visits. I think that’s why they haven’t been able to have a baby. When you marry, you make vows to forsake all others. Some mothers want to remain the only woman in their son’s lives.”
“That’s disturbing,” Hazel muttered.
“Yes. It is,” Mary said as she put the finishing touches on Hazel’s hair.
“Do you think that is how Mrs. Danford feels? Like I’m replacing her?”
Mary shrugged. “She wants his attention, I know that much.”
Hazel thought about that long after Mary departed. Hazel went down to the library and tried to distract herself with reading. She couldn’t sit still, so she wondered the halls until she found herself outside Garrett’s study door. He was meeting with a solicitor. She could hear them talking through the door. She moved on to the drawing room and settled herself into some needlework. At least her hands would be busy.
She thought about what Mary had said. Could Mrs. Danford really want to separate her and Garrett? They were married, for heaven’s sake! If she disliked Hazel, she should have said something before the wedding.
Maybe she did? If so, Garrett then knows that she doesn’t like her. So why is he so insistent that they only need time to grow a bond? Wishful thinking? Hazel found it hard to believe. She knew him to be intelligent and perceptive, but where his aunt was concerned, his fondness blinded him. Hazel didn’t know what to do. He just didn’t want to see what was in front of him.
Hazel became frustrated. He needed to see but wouldn’t, and Hazel was suffering for it. The time they spent together, when Mrs. Danford was not occupying Hazels mind, she couldn’t be happier. Marriage was everything Anabelle had said it would be and more. When she was with Garrett, the world fell away. She
existed only to feel his touch, to smell him and taste him. She felt free when she was with him, happy, joyful. The future was a bright horizon. But then Mrs. Danford would darken her thoughts like a menacing cloud.
A thorn in her side.
She was stealing Hazel’s joy. These days were supposed to be about her and Garrett, the delicate transition into husband and wife. Instead, they were poisoned. Her memories are tainted by Mrs. Danford. It was enough to make Hazel cry.
She dabbed her eyes with the surplus cloth outside her embroidery hoop. She hadn’t made a single stitch. Mrs. Danford was consuming her, even when she couldn’t leave her room, she tortured Hazel. Hazel needed to get away, needed to find a place outside these walls where she could think about what to do to be free of Mrs. Danford. She wanted to run to Garrett, seek comfort in his arms. She was standing before she even knew it. She walked back to his study, schooling her expression. She blinked her eyes rapidly to dispel any lingering tears. The door was open. Garrett and the solicitor were finished.
The solicitor caught sight of her in the hall which alerted Garrett.
“Lady Hazel, join us.” He beckoned.
Hazel summoned a serene smile and entered. “Good afternoon.”
“Lady Bainbridge, may I present Mr. Michaels, my solicitor. Mr. Michaels, this is my wife.”
“An honor, Lady Bainbridge.” Mr. Michaels greeted her.
“A pleasure, Mr. Michaels. I hope I didn’t interrupt important work.”
“We were just finishing. Come.” Garrett waved her to a chair.
“I will take my leave. Good day, sir, ma’am.”
Garrett and Hazel said goodbye and waited until he left before speaking.
“To what do I owe this pleasure?” Garrett put his hands on the arms of her chair. She looked up at him with a smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. She was sad again. He supposed it was better she was running to him, instead of running from him. His aunt was still convalescing in her room as far as he knew. He hadn’t been told otherwise, and he was relieved to let that duty fall to Hazel.
“I needed to see you.” She gave a small shrug.
He liked the sound of that. He liked that she needed him. “I am at your service.” He leaned down and kissed her softly. Her lips clung to his, but she pulled away. Garrett looked back to the still open door. That would not do. He straightened and fixed that problem with a click of the lock. Now they wouldn’t be disturbed.
“How is your day faring?” he asked as he returned to her and took the chair at her side. There was plenty of time to talk first. Perhaps she would tell him what was bothering her before he ravished her.
Hazel looked up and met his eyes. She knew she wasn’t doing well hiding her feelings. If she wanted him to help her, she would have to be honest, but that was the hardest part.
“Is it my aunt? Are you worried about her?” He interrupted her thoughts.
“One might say that.”
“She’ll be fine,” he assured her.
“I know she’ll be fine.” Hazel bit the inside of her cheek to rein in her temper. Did he think she was worried about his aunt’s health? That was laughable. “These two days spent without her have—”
“Wait, you haven’t seen her?”
Hazel shook her head.
“Who tends to her?”
“Emily,” Hazel said hesitantly.
“I thought you were seeing to her care. You haven’t seen her at all? Spoken to her?”
No, and it’s been wonderful, Hazel thought. “Did you think I would? She does not care for my company.”
“But it was you who spoke with the doctor and made sure everyone followed the doctor’s explicit orders.” He stepped back from her, his brow furrowed.
“Yes, but the doctor didn’t order her strict convalescence. I did. The doctor couldn’t find anything wrong with her.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“There isn’t anything wrong with her—not physically, anyhow.” Hazel pushed out of the chair and strode towards the bookcase. She let her anger out in agitated strides.
He was a silent energy behind her. He said nothing, but she could feel his tense presence.
“So that’s it then. You won’t like her. We must go on like this? Me always pulled between the two of you?”
Hazel took a deep breath. She was fighting a rush of tears. “I’m not pulling you, Garrett. I shouldn’t have to. There shouldn’t be an either and or. I’m your wife.”
“And she is like my mother.”
“But she isn’t your mother.” Hazel turned to face him. “And she hasn’t needed to be for a long time. She could have left years ago, but here she is, still trying to be your mother, still standing in between us. She refuses to let me have a place here.”
“You are my wife. That is your place here.”
Hazel wasn’t sure what that meant. She was not mistress of this house, she was not respected as the countess within its walls—would she be allowed to mother her own children? She felt hollowness spread throughout her. She was his wife, yes, but the only place that seemed to matter was in their bedroom. It was the only time she felt she had his undivided attention.
“Do you want me to send her away?” he said with a heavy sigh.
Hazel stiffened. Maybe it was just her raw feelings, but to her ears, his sigh was filled with blame.
“I don’t want it to be this way, but I cannot share my home with her and truly feel it is my home. Why can’t she have her own home? You don’t need her here, do you? Isn’t it time she began her own life? Has she nothing outside of you?”
He turned away and put his hands through his hair. It was the most expressive she’d ever seen him be outside of their amorous activities. He was losing his temper. She was fascinated and saddened by it. It was a side of him she’d never seen. She realized at that moment that she still saw so little of his deeper emotions. That thought awakened her. How much of his true self had he hidden?
“Hazel… I don’t know what it is you want from me.”
Hazel allowed herself to organize her thoughts before answering, but she didn’t know what to say. Hadn’t she been clear? What more could she possibly say? She looked at him. She willed him to understand, to rescue her from this chaos.
He turned to face her. His eyes caught hers and locked. Hazel couldn’t look away. It was the first time she ever saw such emotion in his eyes. He strode toward her. He held her face between his hands.
Her resolve weakened, her body responded to the proximity of his with its primal need for closeness and comfort.
“Just kiss me, Garret.” It was all she wanted that moment. To feel the turmoil that she saw in his eyes. To share it with him and know deep in her body she was not alone in this.
He looked confused, but then he kissed her. He kissed her harder than he ever had. She could taste his anger as his tongue surged into her mouth. Her heart was pounding. She didn’t know why, but she was excited. He pushed her against the bookcase, pulling up her dress in careless handfuls.
Hazel twisted her hands in his jacket, holding on as a roaring desire overtook her and washed away the hurt and confusion that had claimed her. Yes. She needed this, this she understood. This was when she felt them connect, where words were useless, and only emotions ruled. She always knew where she stood when she was in his arms. But was it enough? She pushed the thought away. She didn’t want to think, she’d been thinking all morning.
His hands grabbed her skin roughly, pulling one leg up to his hip. She hadn’t realized he’d bared her from the waist down, her dress bunched uncomfortably around her and between them. She reached down and fumbled with the placket of his breeches. His manhood lurched out into her hands, but before she could touch him further, Garrett lifted her, spearing the folds of her flesh. Hazel gasped as she came down on him, throwing her arms around Garret’s neck to hold on tightly, wrapping both legs around his hips. She was at his mercy, his thrusts hard and swift and his panting breath in her ear. C
ries escaped her, the pleasure crashing over her in harsh waves as she burst upon an orgasm that shook her body.
He groaned wildly, spilling himself inside her. Hazel still hadn’t caught her breath, but already it was over, and he was leaning heavily on the bookshelf behind her. He pulled out of her, and Hazel unwound herself, her feet tingling as she set them on the floor. Her knees were shaky. She braced her hands on the shelf to steady herself behind her, looking down and to the side as he tucked himself away and stepped back. Her skirts fell to her feet, wrinkled. She could feel his hot seed dripping out of her and embarrassment filled her. This was not the way they made love. This was different. It had been wicked and satisfying, but only on a physical level. Somehow, she felt worse.
“I have to go,” she muttered as she dashed away.
“Hazel.” He attempted to grab her arm, but Hazel was too fast.
She was out the door and to the back stairs in a heartbeat. Fresh hot tears clumped in her lashes, spilling over as she took the steps two at a time until she reached the solitude of her room.
Garrett watched her run from him with a scowl. He wasn’t going to chase her, not yet anyhow. What had just happened between them was still raw in his mind. He didn’t know what he was doing. He didn’t understand what was happening between them. She made him feel so much sometimes, so full of emotion he wanted to shout, but it was against his nature to express himself.
He felt lost. He moved to his desk and sat, dropping his head into his hands and closing his eyes. He could see things unraveling and it was all out of his control. He wanted nothing more than to make Hazel happy—and his aunt. She’d devoted her life to raising him, and now he was supposed to pack her off? It wasn’t that he wanted her near him always or needed her. It was that he felt an obligation to provide for her. Couldn’t Hazel understand that? If the situations were reversed, he would never ask the same of her. He would never ask her to turn her mother out into the streets simply because they didn’t get along. Garrett snorted.
Hazel wasn’t asking such a thing. She was only asking to be alone with him. Lord, what a mess things were. How did they get to this place? He could feel the animosity in the air. It was like wearing a hair shirt every time they shared a room. And he was in between them, wanting them to see the best in each other the way he did.